Chilling Temperature

Of all the striking features of the massive Soviet embassy in East Berlin--the sword-bearing guards, the half-ton crystal chandeliers, the stained-glass picture of the Kremlin clock tower--the most striking was the cold. It was so chilly that a couple of the diplomats clustered around the table turned up their collars. The temperature was symbolic.

In its second week, the Big Four Foreign Ministers' Conference was caught in the ice floes of deadlock over Germany. Molotov had plainly shown that he was no more willing than Stalin had been to break the jam over divided Germany's future. The Westerners had to keep chipping away anyhow: they had come to Berlin either to 1) find agreement, or 2) show all the world that Moscow's policy is still not peace but pretense.

If there had been any hope that Molotov would prove conciliatory, it ended when the Russian presented Moscow's version of the way to reunite Germany:

P: A coalition government, blending the freely elected West German regime with the fraudulently elected East German Communists.

P: National elections, to be held under conditions set up by this coalition with "antidemocratic elements" banned.

P: A direct ban on Germany's alliance with "any power" which fought against Hitler. It would be allowed "such national armed forces (land, air and naval) as shall be required for the country's defense."

P: A ban on what Russia calls "Fascist, militaristic and other organizations," which are hostile to "democracy."

It was the same plan the Russians had proposed nearly two years before, but with one new twist: a proposal to withdraw all occupation forces from Germany before elections.

The Western ministers flatly rejected Molotov's proposal. Their objections were many. The Russian plan would set up all Germany for an ultimate Communist coup. Even those Frenchmen who oppose German rearmament inside a European Army (EDC) were alarmed at German "national armed forces" as an alternative. It looked dangerously like the Reichswehr, which Hitler had built into the Wehrmacht. As for Molotov's proposal that each occupying nation withdraw all its troops from Germany, Bidault commented wryly: "I can well see the advantages for the Soviet Union in withdrawing part of its troops a few dozen kilometers [the distance from Berlin to Poland: 50 miles] to the rear, if it could thus achieve . . . the departure of American and British troops from Europe."

The Western strategy was to expose and exploit Russia's fear of entrusting the future of Germany to the ballot box. With skill and force, France's Bidault led the prodding and taunting. "In all political systems, freedom has a synonym--that is, risk," said Bidault. "A united Germany will have freedom to choose . . . We are prepared to take that chance."

Quotes for Salt. Faced with Molotov's icy rigidity, the Western ministers replied with polite but telling effect. To Molotov's monotonous charges that the West is conspiring to start a new world war, John Foster Dulles pointed out:

"He has sometimes been wrong . . . I recall that Mr. Molotov was wrong in October 1939, when he condemned France and Britain as being aggressors and praised Hitlerite Germany as being the peace-seeking country." Dulles threw in a batch of Molotov's own 1939 quotes to make the wound saltier. Example: "It is not only senseless but criminal to wage such a war--a war for the destruction of Hitlerism camouflaged as 'a fight for democracy.' "

At this uncomfortable reminder of an episode no longer discussed in polite Communist society, Molotov energetically took notes. He did not even try to reply until next day.

Bogus Legalism. Molotov scored one diplomatic finesse during the week. Again and again, he raised a bogus legalism: under the European Army treaty, he insisted, a unified Germany would be forced to join the Western alliance and be subject to it for 50 years. Thus goaded, the Western Foreign Ministers were lured into emphasizing and repeating that Germany, once united, would be free to accept or reject Western commitments already made by West Germany. "A reunited Germany . . . cannot be bound by the obligations of its predecessors," Eden emphasized. Inevitably, EDC opponents in France could make much of that admission. Did this mean that France would be asked to surrender sovereignty to EDC while a rearmed Germany would be free to quit EDC when it achieved unification? The question, however, was largely academic as long as Germany remained divided. Divided it seemed doomed to be, in view of Molotov's intransigence last week.

Scraps to Be Burned. Except for their one embarrassing admission, Dulles, Eden and Bidault held the offensive throughout the week. Their teamwork was so good that, in contrast to last week's daily huddles, they met only twice to mesh plans. Besides, they could only assume that the sumptuous "private" quarters provided for each delegation in the Soviet embassy would be as full of hidden wires as a television set. Around the conference tables in their quarters, beneath portraits of Lenin and Stalin, delegation members spoke not a word, communicated by scribbling notes on pads. Later each tore up his notes, pocketed them and took the scraps back to West Berlin to be burned.

This week, having reached disagreement on Germany, the Big Four went on to the next topic--an Austrian treaty. On this or further subjects (Korea, Indo-China), there might yet come some change or break in the cold-war temperature. On the issue of Germany, the Berlin meeting was plainly a failure. But the West had established an important point. It had disposed, once and for all, of the hope that some in the West had cherished, from Churchill on down, that Soviet policy had somehow mellowed with the death of Joseph Stalin. A false hope was better dead.

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