The President's Week

All was now well between Douglas MacArthur, Averell Harriman and Harry Truman, and had been all along. So said they all last week. Anybody who said differently, declared General MacArthur, was guilty of "sly insinuations, brash speculations and bold misstatements." MacArthur had not overstepped his military bounds by his trip to Formosa; he was "a soldier," said Harriman, "and he will carry out any orders that the President gives him." The President, for his part, said he was satisfied with MacArthur in his job.

What, then, was all the fuss about? The fact seemed to be that in general the denials told the truth, but not the whole truth. Yes, the White House knew that General MacArthur had planned a trip to Formosa, but was surprised and embarrassed by the timing of it. Yes, MacArthur discussed only military matters with Chiang Kaishek, but so dramatic a trip to so controversial a spot had inevitable political consequences, too. All of the hullaballoo indicated the touchiness of the Formosa decision: to "neutralize" the island and still avoid a war with Communist China. Both MacArthur and the Administration seemed to be agreed on one hypothesis: that neither Stalin or Mao wanted to get into a war with the U.S. at this point. MacArthur, however, thought that the State Department should stop making a distinction between "good" and "bad" Communists; in effect, Mao is as bad as Stalin.

Both MacArthur and the President's friend Omar Bradley, who unfolds a map of Korea every morning at 9130 and points for the President to ground won or lost (red pins for North Korea, blue pins for U.N. forces), had been able to give Harry Truman an assurance: the U.S. beachhead in Korea was now considered safe, and it was only a question of time before the Reds would be back where they belonged. By October, the U.S. offensive might be well under way.

The President, at his weekly press conference, said that he was pleased also with the way things were going in the U.S. battle against Russia at the U.N. on Long Island. So that last week, for the first time since the Korean war, there was again a chance that Harry Truman, after a hot, hard summer, would be able in October to take off on a "nonpolitical" inspection tour; November would decide some crucial Senate elections.

The President, said his physician, needed a change, anyway. His day was long (5:30 a.m. to 11 p.m.), and though it was broken up by a nap after lunch, as often as not there was a briefcase full of evening homework. Harry Truman, said his doctor, was down to 173 Ibs.--about right--but he was "under a terrible strain. Ordinarily, he can pass things off, political battles and things of that kind. But this [Korea] is different."

The compartment in Harry Truman's mind that has politics written on it was still clicking away, in the midst of other decisions. F.D.R.'s sallow, fast-talking son Jimmy visited the White House (see PEOPLE) to talk over his campaign for the California governorship, and bury the hatchet. He got the President's blessing ("Keep pitching, son").

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