Virtue and Necessity

"I would like to begin," said Vyacheslav Mikhailovich Molotov, "by expressing our sincere appreciation to Mr. Robinson, the mayor of San Francisco, for the hospitality accorded to us in this marvelous city." His voice was flat and expressionless; before him in anxious rows sat New Zealanders, Nicaraguans and Norwegians, Pakistanis, Panamanians and Paraguayans; the western suits of the Yemenites showed from beneath their Arab robes.

"We should not ignore the fact," Molotov was droning on, "that present-day international relations are marked by considerable tensions which are aggravated periodically by propaganda for a new war . . . constant stockpiling of atomic and hydrogen weapons . . . large-scale construction of military bases . . ." By contrast, said Molotov, it was the "peace-loving countries" that had terminated the wars in Korea and Indo-China, the deadlock on the Austrian State Treaty, the long quarrel with Tito's Yugoslavia.

"The warmongers enjoy no confidence and no credit nowadays," Molotov continued, his words punctuated at times by applause from supporters in the public gallery. Molotov demanded Formosa and U.N. membership for Red China: "It must not be forgotten that the country in question has a population of 600 'million and that one out of every four persons living on this globe is a Chinese." He demanded that the U.S. dismantle its overseas bases and quit its embargo on trade in strategic materials with the Communist empire.

He suggested that the big powers seek agreement on withdrawing their troops from Germany "with the exception of small contingents to be temporarily left behind": he left unsaid the usual Communist corollary that Germany must first be neutralized.

He also vaguely said that Russia might lift the Iron Curtain to Western traders and tourists "to facilitate the creation of an atmosphere of trust."

"Make the Next Move." Moving briskly to his "action passage," Molotov chose to restate the Soviet disarmament plan presented in London on May 10. It was a clever document, advocating 1) a reduction in conventional armaments (Russia, Red China and the U.S. down to 1,000,000 to 1,500,000 men each, Britain and France to 650,000) and 2) a world conference to prohibit atomic weapons.

"It can no longer be said," exulted Molotov, "that the Soviet Union, China and others would have any special advantages in conventional armaments as compared to the other powers . . .

"It is up to the U.S.A. and other Western powers to make the next move . . .

They should agree to renounce the use of atomic and hydrogen weapons." Vyacheslav Molotov was ready with seeming concessions. He accepted a Western disarmament point that atomic weapons, prior to prohibition, could be used for defense against aggression--but with the proviso that the U.N. Security Council (where Russia has a veto) is the sole arbiter of what constitutes an act of aggression.

He insisted that international disarmament controls on both sides of the Iron Curtain must be limited to "large ports . . . railroad junctions, highways and airports in the countries concerned"--precisely the kind of rickety setup the Communists have found easy to violate in their illegal military buildups since the truce agreements in Korea and Indo-China.

Bang Went the Gavel. The spirit of San Francisco was such that a lot of delegates were more impressed by Molotov's unaccustomed way of speaking, polite and quiet, than by the unpromising substance of what he said. Dr. Emilio Nunez-Portuondo, the little-known delegate from Cuba, set out to restore the perspective.

"The Soviet Union has brought the U.N. to the verge of collapse," he said. "The Soviet Union . . . has occupied and enslaved Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia against all right and reason, unless might be right . . ."

At this point Dr. Eelco van Kleffens of The Netherlands, the chairman, decided that things were getting too controversial for comfort, and he banged his gavel. Up jumped the Philippines' Carlos Romulo to protest that no one had gaveled Molotov: "You can't apply one rule to a big nation and another to a small nation." Chairman van Kleffens ruled both the Cuban and the Filipino out of order, but let Nunez-Portuondo proceed. "To sum up," the Cuban blandly continued, "in Europe alone, [the Soviet Union] has conquered 1,187,252 square kilometers of foreign land and has enslaved 98 million human beings . . ." Bang went the gavel. "Molotov painted his nation as a dove of peace," complained the Cuban, with a wry look of pain.

The following day, France's Pinay pinned down Molotov on one of his fundamental theses: that U.S. overseas bases are unwelcome. "I state it frankly and bluntly," said Pinay. "My country is not prepared to abandon the security ensured it by the Atlantic organization . . . I know of no foreign military bases. I know only that common means are made avail able to serve a common, peaceful idea."

Nationalist China's George Yeh said that the advance of Communism had been gained by just the tactics that Molotov was now using: "Carefully timed periods of alternating tension and relaxation -- a calculated plan to exploit the world's longing for peace."

"No Fighting-- But Why?" The U.S.'s Dulles replied formally to Molotov point by point, forbearing to puncture crudely, but with great seriousness and detail. "The U.S., which in 1914 and again in 1939 sought safety in neutrality, has now learned by that hard experience that security is best found by collective arrange ments . . . We believe that the power which we possess ought to be made avail able for the protection of others, just as we desire the help of others for our own defense. So the U.S. is today a party to mutual security treaties which bind us collectively to the defense of no less than 44 countries. We are proud of these multiple ties of trust, confidence and honor . . Out of the evolutionary process I describe, much good has come."

John Foster Dulles developed his point. "Speakers who preceded me have referred to encouraging international developments . . . significant developments. But in our rejoicing let us not forget why they have occurred, or forget the sequence of events that have brought us where we are . . .

"Today there is no longer fighting in Korea--but why? The reason is that 16 members responded to the call of the U.N. and fought the aggressor . . ." There was an armistice in Indo-China because several members of the U.N. felt that more fighting there would invoke the need for collective defense. There was good news too from Austria and Yugoslavia, but why? Because the West there too had stood firm, and the other side eventually came to terms.

Dulles summed it up: "Some say that what has happened marks the beginning of a new era. I believe that can be . . . But we do not forget, we dare not forget that some of those who now hail the recent developments are precisely those who sought for years to stop them.

"It is not unprecedented to see men make a virtue of necessity. Today the necessity for virtue has been created by a stalwart thwarting of efforts to subvert our Charter. And if we want to see that virtue continue, I suggest that it may be prudent to continue what has produced it."

"That Threat Should End." Dulles called for an end to the division of Germany, "an evil which cannot be indefinitely prolonged without breeding more evil to plague the world." He reminded the U.N. of the plight of the captive satellites of Eastern Europe, "many with a long and proud record of national existence." He recalled that Red China had been condemned by the U.N. as the aggressor in Korea; that Red China had promoted aggression in Indo-China and was now threatening to fight "to support its ambitions" in the Formosa Straits.

Shrewdly, however, Dulles kept his sharpest point for the Soviet soft spot, where even the neutralists dislike the Soviet line, to wit, the dreaded Cominform. "We cannot forget the existence of that apparatus known as international Communism," he said. "It constitutes a worldwide conspiracy to bring into power a form of government which never in any country, at any time, was freely chosen by the people . . . That threat should end." As for the Russian disarmament plan, Dulles quietly reminded the delegates that the U.S. stood ready to internationalize atomic energy in 1946, when it had the atomic monopoly. The U.S. was firm, now as then, for any disarmament treaty that was "dependable and not a fraud."

Seventeen Handclaps. Turning to the third-row left, where Molotov squarely sat, Dulles said: "There is one extremely simple method of bringing an end to what is called the 'cold war.' It is this: observe the Charter of the U.N.; refrain from the use of force or the threat of force in international relations [and] from the support and direction of subversion against the institutions of other countries . . . It is in that spirit that we shall next month be going to Geneva . . . and we hope that we shall find there the spirit of which I speak."

Through the Opera House, in the midst of the white city, the applause rolled--seventeen brisk and incisive handclaps of it from the Soviet Union's Molotov.

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