Foreign News: Vyacheslav’s Better Baggage

Before flying back to Geneva for the second week of the foreign ministers conference, Russia’s Vyacheslav Molotov attended a bibulous Moscow reception celebrating the38th anniversary of the

Bolshevik Revolution. It was a heady affair ringing with Old Bolshevik Kaganovich’s boast that the 20th century would be “the century of Communism, was a tonic to abstemious old Vyacheslav Molotov who has never been able to disguise his implacable hostility to the West or to play with any conviction the role ot a man out to relax tensions. That night he exulted to a newsman: “I have heard many good things in Moscow. I am leaving for Geneva with even better baggage than I brought.”

There were some in the West who took this to mean that Russia would be more reasonable about German reunification. Molotov did not wait long to disabuse them. Back in Geneva, face to face with the Western Big Three around the green-topped table in the Salle du Conseil, Molotov revealed with relish that the “better baggage” he brought from Moscow was a fresh blast of cold war.

Two Germanys. As the Russian began to speak, John Foster Dulles made notes, France’s Pinay chain-smoked, Britain’s Macmillan sat erect as a Grenadier Guardsman (which he once was). Harshly Molotov plunged in. He rejected out of hand the West’s plan for German unity. He accused the Western powers—including, of all people, the French—of seeking “a revival of German militarism.” What the West wants, he said, is to re-establish throughout Germany “the rule of big monopolies, Junker and militarists” and to “liquidate the social gains of the [East German Communist Republic].” The West had pleaded with Moscow to let the Germans decide for themselves; Molotov would have none of that. The Soviet Union, he said without a trace of embarrassment, could not stand idly by and watch free elections “lead to the infringement of the interests of the working masses.” Molotov then made plain what the West had long suspected: that the Kremlin intends to partition Germany indefinitely. “There are two Germanys, he said, and only one of them—the Communist East—is the “real Fatherland.”

When the Russian finished speaking, a chill silence lay across the conference table. In Molotov’s brutal frankness, the Western Ministers recognized a deliberate shattering of the Geneva spirit. In their hearts, the Western Big Three had not expected the Soviet Union to set the East Germans free, but Molotov had gone further than that. By espousing partition, he and the Soviet Union were openly disavowing Bulganin’s promise, made at the summit parley, to find ways of uniting Germany and making Europe secure.

After a moment’s silence, John Foster Dulles asked for time out. Over drinks in the delegates’ bar, he agreed with Macmillan and Pinay that the conference must go on, but that the West should delay its reply until the next day.

Item I. Overnight the West worked out a common strategy. Molotov had accepted the onus of keeping Germany divided: the West would therefore see to it that the onus stuck. Promptly at 4 p.m., the conference came to order and Harold Macmillan took the floor. His voice was icy with anger.

“The Soviet Union,” said Macmillan, “is prepared to use the happiness, the unity and the independence of the German people as pawns in its game to break up [NATO] . . . They must accept the odious system which has been imposed on East Germany or else continue to remain divided … If the German people were ever allowed to express their feelings at free elections, the puppets who are held in power in East Germany by Soviet arms would be swept away … for the Soviet government, the only acceptable guarantee for the reunification of Germany is the Bolshevization of the whole country.”

John Foster Dulles joined in. “So far as the U.S. is concerned,” said the Secretary gravely, “what has happened here has largely shattered such confidence as was born at the summit conference.” The session quickly degenerated into an exchange of invective and sarcasm, with Pinay, who cannot abide Molotov, leading the Western attack. When it was all over, the Kremlin was clearly labeled as the Divider of Germany.

Item 2. Next day the West insisted on passing on to Item 2—disarmament. Molotov had a few unkind words to say on this subject too. Kept in the background during the Parley at the Summit, Molotov now had his chance to attack President Eisenhower’s plan for mutual air inspection of U.S. and Soviet arms installations (TIME, Aug. 1). With a perfectly straight face he charged that it would “increase” the danger of atomic war.

“We have no doubt,” he said, that President Eisenhower was “guided by good intentions.” With that, he proceeded to “prove” that the West’s most experienced military leader was really just a hopeful ignoramus, misled into his proposal by scheming “military circles.” The Western delegates were more amused than shocked at Molotov’s rantings; yet as one of them put it afterwards: “When you start to laugh out loud you look at that face and realize it’s no laughing matter.”

John Foster Dulles delivered the U.S.’s reply. Eisenhower’s plan, he said, was never intended to be a “cureall” but is an “essential prelude” to a practical system for arms control. Dulles even offered to extend the system of mutual inspection to all U.S. bases overseas. But the U.S., said Dulles flatly, will not allow its security to be dependent on Soviet promises. So ended Item 2.

Item 3. In another room, the ministers’ deputies had taken up Item 3—the improvement of East-West contacts. They too disagreed. Both sides had expected this to be the easiest subject on the agenda, but when the West asked the Soviet delegates to abolish censorship and admit more foreign tourists, the Russians replied with the demand that Nationalist China should give up its blockade on the Red Chinese coast.

By week’s end the Big Four conference found itself at a dead halt. On one point all were agreed: the conference should break up this week after exactly three weeks in session.