Egypt, Argentina and Us

Canada's tradition of silent partnership with the U.S. was sharply ruptured in November 1949 when Lester B. Pearson, Canada's Minister for External Affairs, proclaimed that Canada is no American "camp follower." Since then, Pearson has hammered on the same theme. But the U.S. seemed not to hear; it kept right on assuming that good relations with Canada just came naturally. Last week, on the day that General MacArthur was fired, "Mike" Pearson straightened his bow tie, got up at a Toronto luncheon and fired his heaviest salvo. Said he: "The days of relatively easy and automatic political relations with our neighbors are, I think, over."

Fractious Fractions. The U.S., said Pearson, must realize that "while we are most anxious to work with her and support her in the leadership she is giving to the free world, we are not willing to be merely an echo. [Americans] should not attempt to tell us that until we do one-twelfth or one-sixteenth, or some other fraction as much as they are doing in any particular enterprise, we are defaulting. It would also help if the United States took more notice of what we do do, and, indeed, occasionally of what we say . . . The only time the American people seem to be aware of our existence ... is when we do something that they do not like."

Touching on the sorest spot of all, Pearson conceded that Ottawa has failed to match, even proportionately, the U.S. effort in Korea. But he chose a surprising way to justify the Canadian position. Explaining that the rest of the world needed time to catch up with the U.S., he said: "Canada . . . should surely not be criticized more than, say Argentina, or Egypt, or Sweden." Fortunately for the blood pressure of Canadian editorial writers, no U.S. official was likely to take Pearson's advice and link Ottawa with Strong Man Peron or Playboy King Farouk.

Jumping Jitters. Pearson's odd comparison with the three countries clearly reflected his defensive feeling toward U.S. policy. In U.N. discussions of the Chinese Communist aggression in Korea, his fear of U.S. "rashness" has made him a leader of the let's-pretend-it-isn't-there-and-maybe-it-will-go-away school of thought. Aside from that, he feels that the U.S. has an unhappy way of either stalling interminably (as on the St. Lawrence seaway) or plunging ahead brusquely without consulting its allies (as with the sudden suggestion for a Japanese peace treaty or the proposal to rearm Western Germany). In conversation last week, he commented glumly that Canada has "more outstanding problems with the U.S. this year than in any year of our history."

One thing his latest speech did accomplish: it brought in an unprecedented flurry of mail. Wrote an irate Texan: "Keep your nose out of our affairs." Secretary of State Dean Acheson let it be known that he was annoyed. Said the New York Mirror, in an editorial: "Hey, Canada, what goes?" Pearson was pleased. He told a newsman: "That's the only way Canada can get U.S. attention."

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