Conference in Rio

Every attack . . . against the territory . . . sovereignty or political independence of an American State shall . . . be considered as an act of aggression against the other States which sign this declaration.

This ringing declaration, formulated two years ago in Mexico City and agreed to by all 21 of the American republics, is the heart of the Act of Chapultepec. It has brought a new concept to hemispheric policy.

Next week, in the salmon-pink Boite of Quitandinha, a hotel and onetime gambling casino in the cool mountains north of Rio, the top brass of hemispheric diplomacy will meet to put the Chapultepec agreement into permanent, postwar treaty form. Secretary of State George Marshall will be there; so will Republican Senator Arthur Vandenberg, Warren Austin, U.S. representative to the U.N. and Texas Democrat Senator Tom Connally. President Truman might show up.

Against Aggressors. In an uneasy world, split between East and West, the very fact that the 21 nations of the Western Hemisphere could discuss their common problems was reassuring and hopeful to the people of the Americas. For the U.S., deeply involved in both Europe and Asia, there would be satisfaction in knowing that the southern flank was secure.

The Rio Conference will heal some old sores, may reopen others. Scheduled for war's end, the conference was summarily torpedoed a year ago by headstrong Assistant Secretary of State Spruille Braden on the ground that the U.S. had no business sitting down at the same table with Argentina. The scorching, inside battle that Braden's bull-in-china-shop action precipitated among U.S. diplomats made confusion of the U.S.'s Latin American policy, which was not too clear in the first place. Now that Braden and ex-Ambassador George Messersmith, his chief antagonist, are out, and the Administration has had a chance to collect its wits, U.S. policy is more sure, although there is still some Bradenism in the State Department.

Opposite Corners. Despite the kiss-&-make-up act that followed Braden's resignation, the U.S. and Argentina still stand in their traditional opposite corners. Argentina, fearful of her sovereignty, demands unanimous agreement among the Americas before squelching aggressors. She is alone in her stand. Last week the conference host, aging Brazilian Foreign Minister Raul Fernandes (TIME, Aug. 4), said publicly that he hoped Argentina would change her mind.

Whatever happens at Rio, one man stands to gain. He is sharp-eyed Joaquim Rolla, owner of the Quitandinha Hotel. Anxious to stamp a legitimate "Quitandinha" dateline on the deliberations, Rolla got the Brazilian Government to install a postoffice in the building. Recently his pressagent, dining a group of reporters at the lakeside chalet, hopped up and cried, "Wait a minute, gentlemen." The reporters, forks in midair, waited. "Remember," he shouted, "this is to be the Quitandinha Conference.

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