Traveling Tall

The glory that is Greece last week played host to the grandeur that is Charles de Gaulle. French Surete agents flew in ahead of time to go over the dossiers of resident foreigners and eye new arrivals at Hellenikon airport. Greek army engineers prowled the sewers of Athens, searching for hidden bombs; grey-uniformed cops stood guard 25 yards apart along the eight-mile parade route. Emotionally, a retired Greek general announced that he was personally ready to slash his wrists to give blood, if De Gaulle were shot. More prudently, Greece's Premier Constantine Karamanlis had his own blood typed, in case he got in the way of any shooting.

Drifting Smoke. In the event, the precautions seemed excessive. De Gaulle arrived promptly at noon in his blue-and-white Caravelle jet airliner, inspected an honor guard as cannon smoke from the 21-gun salute drifted into his face, then climbed into a Rolls-Royce convertible with Greece's tall King Paul.

As the motorcade reached the city limits, De Gaulle jumped to his feet, waved theatrically to the Athenians gathered under the pepper trees. At Hadrian's Arch, near the Temple of Olympian Zeus, he said with feeling: "No Frenchman, especially myself, could fail to be moved by this city, nor forget what has been accomplished here for liberty in 3,000 years." Then he plunged nearsightedly into the curbside crowd to shake hands--a procedure that gives his security guards perpetual jitters.

But the chance of a potshot at De Gaulle was not the only worry of Greek leaders. The government was also uneasy that De Gaulle might try to embroil Greece in his quarrel with Britain over the Common Market, and with the U.S. over NATO defense. It was France, not Greece, which had pushed the trip. De Gaulle had picked up an invitation made seven years before to then President Rene Coty. Paris also suggested that the French fleet drop anchor in the Piraeus to coincide with De Gaulle's arrival, and discreetly broached the plan of having De Gaulle address the Greek public, as he had done with such success during his German tour last year. When Greek reaction to both ideas was cool, they were abandoned.

The Hinge. Nevertheless, Greece was in a mood to be wooed by le grand Charles. Athens officials were shocked last summer, when the $20 million annual U.S. defense and economic aid was abruptly cut off on the theory that the Greek economy no longer needed it. De Gaulle is said to be prepared to climax his visit with an offer of a $10 million development loan; French investments in Greece already total $60 million and are second only to U.S. investment. At a palace banquet, De Gaulle made clear in a toast to King Paul that he hopes to extend France's influence from the "northern seas," which he called one of France's boundaries, to the eastern Mediterranean, where, he pointed out, Greece is the "hinge between the Latin and Slavic worlds, as well as between Western Europe and the Middle East."

These words, and De Gaulle's wooing manner, set diplomats everywhere to a fresh study of his upcoming ambitious travel plans: in October, Charles de Gaulle, 72, is scheduled to visit Iran, and he is considering later trips to Japan, South America, North Africa, and the newly independent nations of black Africa. "Today, France," murmured one dazzled observer. "Tomorrow the world."

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