Pact of Sinaia?

Back from a state visit to Rumania which Jugoslav editors called "momentous," His Majesty King Alexander began to play the role of Ruthless Dictator last week, dropping that of Constitutional Sovereign.

Without bothering to trump up charges, the royal police pounced on Rev. Anton Koroshetz, Slovene minority leader and on Dr. Vladko Matchek, Croat minority leader who was dragged at night out of a restaurant at Zagreb, hustled off to Belgrade without being permitted to say good-by to his wife & children.

Without a trial, Dr. Matchek was simply informed by Belgrade's Police Chief that "during His Majesty's pleasure" he will be interned in a village near ominous Sarajevo, birth village of the World War. Father Koroshetz will be interned at another village. Belgrade newshawks heard that King Alexander "is now determined to crush Croat and Slovene discontent with iron severity." How did His Majesty, recently reported suffering from a bad case of nerves, suddenly recover and become so cocky? The answer seemed to be "Sinaia."

Sinaia. in the mountains north of Bucharest, is the snug retreat of Rumania's King Carol. Hostess there during the Jugoslav royal visit was Divorce Carol's sister, ex-Queen Elisabeth of Greece. Italian newsorgans were furious. Rumania lately turned down a proposal by Benito Mussolini that she sign a treaty pledging assistance to Italy in case of a war with Jugoslavia. From Italy's standpoint the Rumanian Government, by consenting to a Jugoslavian state visit, was offering a rebuff to Italy, putting Il Duce's political nose out of joint.

On the station platform King Carol & Hostess Elisabeth made a handsome couple. "Oh there's Auntie Marie!" shouted Crown Prince Mihai as the Jugoslav royal train chuffed in. Out bounced plump Queen Marie of Jugoslavia, embraced her brother Carol. Out stepped Jugoslavia's dentist-like King Alexander dressed as a Rumanian commander of artillery. Carol, dressed as a Jugoslav infantry officer, kissed Alexander while a Rumanian brass band blared the amazing three-ply national anthem of the Kingdom of the Serbs, Croats & Slovenes, officially called "Jugoslavia."*

That night, while the four Majesties banqueted at Sinaia, Rumania's greatest diplomat, Foreign Minister Nicholas Titulescu, was seized in the Royal Chateau with acute inflammation of the middle ear. While he writhed in pain, the four Majesties were startled to discover that they had not a doctor among them. What to do?

Politically, Premier Vaida-Voevod of Rumania is no friend of M. Titulescu. "I studied medicine in my youth at Vienna," he admitted diffidently. "I never practiced. Still, do you want me to see what I can, do?"

Statesman Titulescu writhed "yes." His friendly foe, the Premier, fixed his ear, put him to bed until a specialist arrived by roaring motor from Bucharest.

Two days later Jugoslavia's sovereigns left Sinaia for Belgrade. What pact or agreement, if any, had the two kings and their attendant statesmen made? Bucharest was mum. Belgrade buzzed with rumors of a secret agreement which was said to have bucked King Alexander up to the drastic measures that he took against his discontented subjects last week.

The pact, according to Belgraders highly placed, is double-edged. Rumania agrees to support Jugoslavia, in the event she is attacked; and Jugoslavia agrees to back Rumania in case Russia attacks with intent to wrest from Rumania the once Russian province of Bessarabia. To King Carol, King Alexander was rumored to have said, "We fear an attack from Italy next spring, probably delivered through Albania" (now a puppet state with Il Duce pulling the strings [TIME, Jan. 16]).

* Played and sung all together, the anthem consists of what used to be the first stanzas of Serb, Croat and Slovene national songs, each with music of a different type, the first religious, second lively, third militant:

First (Pious Serb) Verse

God of Justice! Thou who has saved us from
disaster till now,
Hear our voices, and henceforward,
Be our salvation evermore!
Oh Lord, save us!
Oh Lord, guard our king and our race!

Second (Cheerful Croat) Verse

Oh beautiful fatherland!
Oh dear heroic country,
Seat of ancient glory,
Be forever glorious!
Your valleys are dear to us,
Your mountains too!
You only are dear to us!

Third (Martial Slovene) Verse

Forward with the flag of glory!
Fight, you of heroic race
For the welfare of the country!
Let the guns talk!
The dear mother pleads,
Her arms about his neck.
"Stay here, my dear son."
He cries, ''My country is my mother,
"And my rifle is my sweetheart!"
Forward, forward, forward!

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