Man of the Hour

With the U.S. and Russia warily sidling toward negotiations in Laos (see THE NATION), the man in the middle of the muddle was sleek and equivocal Prince Souvanna Phouma.

A man who has made a career of ambiguity, Prince Souvanna may just possibly be the perfect expression of Laos' national Geist. As Premier from 1956 to 1958, Souvanna tried to make a deal with the Pathet Lao, which happens to be headed by his half brother, Red Prince Souphanouvong. Souvanna's view is simple: no Laotian could possibly be a Communist, least of all his brother. When bouncy little Captain Kong Le and his paratroopers staged an exasperated and successful revolt last August against the current pro-Western Laotian government, he installed Souvanna as Premier as the Laotian who most deeply believed that Laotians should not fight each other. Outraged when Souvanna again began dickering with his Communist half brother, another army man, General Phoumi Nosavan, organized a rebellion in his turn. Souvanna begged the Russians for help, then fled into exile at a flower-trimmed estate in Cambodia.

Souvanna has done better in exile than most Laotian premiers have done in power. The Russians (and the Pathet Lao) still recognize him as the "legitimate" government of Laos--despite the fact that a majority of the Laotian legislature approved the installation of Prince Boun Oum as General Phoumi's candidate for Premier. Unofficially, the British, French and Indians have let it be known that they consider Souvanna the best of all possible Laotians. Two weeks ago, Souvanna took off on a junket to seek support in the world's capitals.

He called on India's Nehru, and while in New Delhi, had a long talk with roving U.S. Ambassador Averell Harriman, who said later: "He thinks he is the man of the hour." Souvanna may be right. Last week British Foreign Secretary Lord Home rushed back from the SEATO meeting in Bangkok to have dinner with him in London. In Paris, Souvanna conferred with De Gaulle and awaited a call to Moscow--even as Khrushchev was grumpily wondering aloud to U.S. Ambassador Llewellyn Thompson why "Souvanna doesn't go home where he can do some good," a thought that has also crossed U.S. minds.

In Paris, Souvanna puffed on a meerschaum, claimed that since he had asked for Russian aid in the first place, he could stop it when he pleased. But he obviously wanted to be back on top in Laos before he gave peacemaking a try. And he was waiting for the big powers to put him there. "Kennedy is my sole hope," he said. He might have added Nikita Khrushchev. Either way, his hope seemed fairly well founded.

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