Travel, Trouble

Five Premiers, 16 Foreign Ministers and numberless secretaries journeyed toward Geneva, last week, on their way to attend the extraordinary session of the Assembly and Council of the League of Nations especially convoked for the purpose of admitting Germany to the League, as provided for in the Locarno Treaties.

New President. When all were ready, onetime Premier of Portugal Agusto DaCosta assumed the presidential chair and spoke perfunctorily: With the entrance of Germany assured, the U. S. was missed more keenly than ever by the League; a new League era was dawning. . .a turning point. . .highest hopes and dreams, etc.

Waiting Delegates. Meantime, not far away, Germany's delegates waited, not in hopes and dreams, but pondering what they knew would be two causes to delay translation of the words of Locarno into action: 1) political upheavals in France which robbed the French delegate temporarily of his right to vote; 2) deadlock over the creation in the Council of seats for Brazil and Spain. They refused to commit Germany to any policy to be pursued once she should be admitted to the League. They waited.

Poland's ten delegates waited too, to see how another matter that the president had not mentioned was going to develop. They watched particularly a certain delegate who looked a trifle harassed. Upon him and upon affairs in Paris hung quite a little "old business" that would come up before the Locarno could be fulfilled.

Harassed Delegate. Sir Austen Chamberlain was that harassed delegate. Before going to Geneva he had been mercilessly grilled in the British House of Commons as to whether he would attempt to support the candidacy of Poland for a permanent seat in the League Council. (See TIME, March 8, THE LEAGUE; and FRANCE, "Briand Falls," herein).

Earlier in the week, Premier Baldwin of Britain barely tided over an open Cabinet split on this issue, and the British press continued to flay "Monsieur" Chamberlain for having allegedly gained M. Briand's support at Locarno by promising to champion France's ally, Poland, before the League.

In the Commons, Mr. David Lloyd George was in high feather as he twitted Sir Austen. Mr. George openly hinted that the Foreign Secretary had agreed to help France "pack" the League Council against Germany. Said he: "Aha! to Poland in this connection.

So there was poison in the Locarno Loving Cup! Locarno was only the beginning, but its wine is already badly corked."

Sir Austen replied with frigid caution: "For myself and for the Government let me say that we share the regret that these large issues as to the composition of the Council should arise on this occasion and have to be discussed now. ... I do not think that the interests of peace and international understanding will be served by the members of individual governments saying what they would do or what they would not do at the forthcoming meeting of the great world council. I do not see how we will ever come to an agreement if each of us announces beforehand our policy and is unwilling to make any concessions."

Up to the moment of his departure for Geneva, Sir Austen steadfastly refused to declare publicly he would not offer British support to Poland in this connection.