P. M. I.

As it shrilled to a new high last week, the will-Ike-run-again chatter changed its script. For months hopeful Democrats have been solemnly guessing that he would not, and hopeful Republicans that he would. Suddenly, pro-Ike Republicans were expressing doubt that President Eisenhower would be a candidate for a second term in 1956.

Only two were on the public record.

The Kansas City Star's President Roy Roberts, longtime friend of the President, wrote that Ike's decision "is still wide open." Maine's Senator Margaret Chase Smith told 1,700 Republican women meeting in Washington that she had the impression the President "prefers to retire in 1956."

Much more agitating to Washington than these public statements was the cumulative effect of private reports from Eisenhower visitors who emerged last week from the side door of the White House. Their theme: the President did not see why he owed the Republican Party a duty to run; its right wing was bucking him day after day on foreign policy, world trade and other matters.

Speculation on 1956. These reports rolled around Washington, gathering weight as they went. The bulk of Republican speculation stood firm against them. House Republican Leader Joe Martin, speaking to the same group of Republican women, contradicted Senator Smith. "You will send him back," said he, "with a tremendous majority in 1956."

Nevertheless, the new doubts of Ike's availability creased the forehead of many a Republican who knew that the party has no comparable vote getter. The doubt had a far different effect in other quarters.

California's Governor Goodwin Knight came into Washington sure that Ike would run. He listened to the speculation and went home with a vision in his eyes of life at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington. "Goody's" particular mirage could not be seen by many, if any, Republican leaders outside California.

Effect on 1955. The emphasis on Ike's reluctance to run might have political effects in the immediate future far more meaningful than distant speculation about 1956. A popular President is in a peculiarly strong position during the third year of his first term. A Pentagon staff planner might call that year the President's P.M.I.

--period of maximum influence. At this point the President does not have to say whether he will or won't run. If he says he won't, he loses any control he might have on dissidents in his own party. If he says he will, he throws away an instrument of party discipline and unity.

If a President during his P.M.I, is sincerely (as distinguished from tactically) in doubt about his future plans, his leverage is even greater. Few believed that Eisenhower for tactical purposes would conceal a decision that he had actually made. If he is really undecided, as Washington thinks, then that ought to strengthen his hand during the coming months in dealing with the G.O.P. right-wingers.

What cuts down Ike's leverage is the extraordinary independence of party shown by some anti-Eisenhower Republicans.

Senators Knowland, McCarthy, Millikin and Malone are not trying to grab the party leadership from him. Each goes his own way, seeks his own following. A mere hint of Ike's own reluctance to run will have little effect on such men, even though they know that Ike's unavailability might cost the party millions of votes. But an Eisenhower withdrawal that was attributed in part to the opposition inside his own party might have a drastic effect on party workers, who, after all, like to win elections. These party stalwarts could turn and blast forever the careers of men they held responsible for Ike's refusal to run.

Ike's decision and its timing is his own problem, one full of conflicting elements that no observer can assess. But viewed objectively, there is no political reason why Ike should hasten to make up his mind. The longer his P.M.I., the tougher he can make it for the men who have made it tough for him.

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