Monday, Oct. 05, 1953

EDC Wakes Up

The 16th century Villa Aldobrandini, which looks down on Rome from the Quirinal Hill, was built in the period of Europe's Renaissance. Last week the Deputy Foreign Ministers of France, Germany, Italy and Benelux met in its frescoed hall to map the way to a political renaissance: the United States of Europe.

Italy's Premier Pella welcomed the deputies and hoped that "you will find the road completely cleared of problems . . ." But he brought up the problem of Trieste (TIME, Sept. 21); the French delegation worried about France's claims in the Saar; the Dutch wanted to talk about trade barriers; only the Germans seemed keen on the real purpose of the meeting: to frame a political constitution for Europe with "as strong a supranational authority as possible." Once accepted, the political authority would be nourished by the European coal-steel pool (already in operation), and defended by the long-planned six-nation European Army.

Proposals. Somewhat to their surprise, the deputies did make some progress--at least on paper. Their tentative proposals: P: A European Assembly, elected by the direct votes of 155 million citizens of the U.S. of Europe.

P: A European Senate, similar in function to the Senate of the U.S. but appointed by the Parliaments of the six member nations. P: A Cabinet with executive powers, headed by a President of the United States of Europe elected by the Senate.

To allay the fears of France (pop. 42 million) that a reunited Germany (pop. 65 million) might one day dominate the European Assembly elections, a ceiling was fixed above which no nation's delegation might rise. Luxembourg (pop. 300,000) was pacified by a clause guaranteeing representation for states whose populations are too small to elect even one member to the supranational chamber.

Lively Issue. To most Europeans, the blueprint was one more of a succession of visionary goals that at best might become reality in a generation's time. But on the everyday level of practical politics, Europe last week was making faster progress towards it than it had in all of a year. EDC--the scheme to get the Germans into uniform on the side of the West within the straitjacket of a European Defense Community--had risen from its supposed deathbed. Buero Blank, the embryonic Defense Ministry of West Germany, casually let it be known that 105,000 volunteers are ready to don European Army uniforms; to prove that the Ruhr can arm them (a point that has been proved before), German industrialists staged an impressive display of military trucks and signals equipment.* Another German group even offered to show France how to build homes more quickly.

Such activity east of the Rhine, though dramatic evidence of Germany's astonishing comeback, did at least as much harm as good. The No. 1 obstacle to EDC is French fear of German arms; the more eager the Germans are to have them, the less willing are the French to let them have them. "Chancellor Adenauer is a man of high conscience," said Edouard Herriot, President of the French National Assembly, in a bitter speech last week. "But he is there for four years, and the treaty we are asked to sign is for 50 years." A German countered: "We are asked to solve the most difficult and intricate problem in history --namely, to raise an army larger than Russia's but smaller than France's."

Hefty Boost. To allay French fears, London, Washington and Bonn were busy searching for ways to make it easier for Paris to lay the European Army treaty before the Assembly. Konrad Adenauer began deliberately advertising his willingness to make concessions over the disputed Saar, even though they might cost him support in the nationally minded Bundestag. Britain, which has guaranteed French security on five separate occasions since 1945 ("Ever since I was a small boy," said one bored Foreign Office man), did it again. A British minister, said Whitehall, will sit in on the debates of EDC's governing Council of Ministers. By this formula of "association, but not membership," the British will still be free to withdraw their troops from Europe whenever they like; yet their move was enough to give EDC another boost in France. Guy Mollet, leader of the influential (105 seats) French Socialists, hinted that a majority of his party might now be willing to vote for ratification.

Theoretically, the help of some 80 of the Socialists would give Premier Laniel a majority in the National Assembly for ratification of EDC. But perversely, the debate would bring down his Cabinet, which contains no Socialists but does have several Gaullist ministers, all strongly opposed to EDC. The dilemma: without the Socialists, who oppose his domestic policies, Laniel cannot get ratification of EDC; without the Gaullists, who oppose EDC, he cannot govern France.

Like so many French Premiers before, Laniel's solution was to play for more time. "My government will ask parliament to put EDC on its agenda," he announced last week. But first, Foreign Minister Bidault and Chancellor Adenauer "must examine in common the problems concerning France and Germany . . ." Specifically, that meant the knotty Saar question. How long would that take? Laniel did not know--but it was pertinent that both he and Bidault are candidates to succeed President Vincent Auriol, whose term ends this year. Neither man is anxious to stake his candidacy on EDC, and the betting is that both will keep quiet about it until the election is decided.

But at least--and at last--Paris had promised to put the matter before its parliament. That fell under the heading of progress, with a small p.

* Germany is forbidden to build weapons until EDC is ratified, and then will be restricted to non-atomic ones.

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