The Man of Change

"A speech may change an opinion, but never a vote," goes an old and cynical marim of French politics. Last week in the marble hall of the National Assembly, the maxim was dramatically shattered. The bright and comparatively young politician who did it transformed overnight, for good or ill, the French and the world political scene.

He made himself France's new Premier, he breathed new life (and danger) into the expiring Geneva Conference, and he revived the prospect of a negotiated settlement in Indo-China. He brought a transfusion of young, fresh blood into the trouble-hardened arteries of French government. He ended the long postwar dominance of France by the Catholic M.R.P. party, whose two leaders, Robert Schuman and Georges Bidault. have served as Foreign Secretary through 18 different postwar Cabinets. He promised to break the deadlock over EDC that has so long undercut the strength and frayed the tempers of the Western alliance.

The odds weighed against his accomplishing what he hoped to do. It was not certain that what he thought best would best serve the interests of the West in the struggle against Communism. But a man of fresh ideas and heartening determination had taken command in France. His name is Pierre Mendes-France, and Frenchmen call him "The Man of Change."

Two in a Pool. By custom, the search for a new Premier to replace the downfallen Joseph Laniel began with the man who had been most vigorous in opposition. That took President Coty straight to Mendes-France, a confident, energetic lawyer and economist (see box).

There was little questioning of Mendes' competence, but the pundits gave him almost no chance to get a majority. He vas ambitious and personally disliked by some. The M.R.P. feared his demands for an Indo-China peace and his unfriendliness to EDC. The proud, nationalist minded followers of Charles de Gaulle liked his reservations on EDC but suspected that he stood for ignoble surrender in Indo-China. In the press gallery, correspondents made up a pool. Only two guessed that Mendes-France would win a majority.

Peace First. In a tight, blue suit, Mendes-France stepped briskly forward and nervously began to speak in curt, matter-of-fact tones. It was a daring foray, lucidly drafted and powerfully put. At the center of France's illness, said Mendes-France, is the hemorrhage of war in Indo-China. "Peace negotiated with our adversaries is required by the facts, and such a peace in turn [requires] the putting in order of our finances, revival of our economy and its expansion." But peace first.

Was Mendes-France proposing peace at any cost, as he had seemed to some to suggest in the past? He brought cheers from those who feared that when he said: "France need not accept and will not accept conditions incompatible with its most vital interest, so France will remain in the Far East. Neither our allies nor enemies should harbor the slightest doubt on the meaning of our determination." But Mendes-France was convinced that an honorable end to the fighting could be negotiated with the Communists, so he made a startling proposal to the National Assembly: approve him as Premier, and he would achieve peace within four weeks --by July 20--or resign. "Today is June 17. I will come to this rostrum before July 20 and report on the results. If no satisfactory solution can be reached by that date, you will be free of the contract between us." Promises to Be Kept. To the surprised Deputies, he ticked off two other big promises of his proposed contract: P:By July 20, "at the latest," his government will submit "a coherent and detailed program for economic recovery." P:Before the Assembly adjourns for vacation (late July), he will lay before it a compromise proposal to settle the question of German rearmament and the European Army. "France," said he, "can no longer prolong an uncertainty which affects the interests of the Western alliance.

"Our rule," Mendes-France said, "will be never to make promises that we cannot keep, but to keep those that we do make, no matter what the cost." Implicit in his proposal: a go-ahead on West German rearmament, but no European army in which Frenchmen and Germans would serve in common uniforms. Of the present EDC treaty, Mendes-France said: ". . . In such a delicate matter, no solution can be good, or even admissible, if imposed by a slight majority upon an ardent minority. Large national support is necessary." Clearly gambling on shock appeal, he told the Deputies he would not follow the practice of "dosage"--the distribution of government ministries on the basis of parliamentary support--but would simply choose the men he thought best.

The Proposition. There, without cliche or frill, was a businesslike proposition.

The faction-riven French Parliament had not heard the like of it in all the long postwar parade of has-beens, would-bes and never-could-bes. The Deputies retired in lively confusion to caucus.

Bidault, back from Geneva, warned his M.R.P.: ". . . If you vote for Mendes, you reverse all that we have accomplished in seven years." Bidault won (37 to 16), and his party decided to abstain. The Socialists voted to support the Mendes government but not to enter it. The Communists, to the embarrassment of Mendes, decided to throw all their 95 votes in his favor.

"We will vote for you," announced the Red spokesman as the Chamber reconvened, "because we wish to do everything possible for restoring peace in Indo-China." Mendes gave the Communists an icy comeuppance. "I must tender my thanks ... for the precious support ..." he said. "[But] ... I ask what would be the feelings of our soldiers in Indo-China if they learned that a government was constituted thanks to the votes of those who have sullied men who devotedly died for their country . . .?" If he did not get a clear majority without Communist votes, Mendes said, he would consider himself rejected.

In a rage, Communist Jacques Duclos cried: "That's unconstitutional!" Non-Communists roared with laughter. When asked in the lobby if his party would still vote for Mendes, Duclos shrugged: "Yes, one is not always free to do as he likes." At 2 a.m. the voice of the Assembly President droned out: "419 for, 47 against. Monsieur Mendes-France is invested."

Across the Lines. To a rumble of amazement, France got a new Premier. Even without the Communists, his majority was 324, or ten more than required. Mendes had broken across party lines, won parties essentially hostile to much of what he proposed to do, even persuaded ten members of M.R.P. to support him.

Mendes and his pretty wife, Lily, drove off to the Elysee Palace for the formal visit to President Coty, and finally, not long before dawn, the new Premier went to bed. But in less than four hours, he was up and beating the political bushes for men who would join him in his 33-day marathon. By week's end Premier Mendes had a Cabinet notable for its youth (average age: 47, the same as the Premier's).

One new feature: a Ministry for Moroccan and Tunisian Affairs, as support of Mendes' promise to ease the explosive North African problem, giving more independence to the natives of French North Africa.

Gone from government was Foreign Minister Bidault; Mendes kept the Foreign Ministry for himself. The new Premier-Foreign Minister said he might personally go to Geneva to learn what the price of peace in Indo-China would be.

Much depended--for France and for the West--on how much France's "Man of Change" would prove willing to pay.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.