Toward Vienna

John F. Kennedy wanted a size-up, not a summit. And he had been wanting it for a longer time than he had let on. Last week he made it official: on June 3, just after his visit to France's President Charles de Gaulle, President Kennedy will fly to Vienna for two days of informal, agenda-free talks with Nikita Khrushchev. Said the White House announcement, carefully worded to avoid raising any false hopes--or fears--of specific settlements: "The President and Chairman Khrushchev under stand that this meeting is not for the purpose of negotiating or reaching an agreement on the major international problems that involve the interest of many other countries. The meeting will, however, afford a timely and convenient opportunity for the first personal contact between them, and a general exchange of views."

At first look. President Kennedy's decision to meet with Khrushchev seemed a hasty and perhaps dangerous effort to redeem recent U.S. failures in Southeast Asia, Cuba and other cold war hot spots. But, it now turns out, deep-secret negotiations for the Kennedy -Khrushchev confrontation began a mere three weeks after Jack Kennedy's inauguration.

Before the Boiling. On Feb. 11, 1961--a time when the Congo was aflame but neither the Laos nor the Cuba crisis had yet boiled over--U.S. Ambassador to Moscow Llewellyn ("Tommy") Thompson was in Washington for top-level consultations on U.S.-Russian relationships. He met lengthily in the White House with President Kennedy, Vice President Lyndon Johnson, State Secretary Dean Rusk, and three of his predecessors in Moscow: Averell Harriman, George Kennan and Charles Bohlen. The question of a Kennedy-Khrushchev meeting came up--and the consensus was that it might be worthwhile. Thompson returned to Russia with a Kennedy letter expressing hope for a meeting, possibly in late spring, in a neutral European city. Thompson delivered the letter to Khrushchev in Novosibirsk, Siberia, on March 9 and got Khrushchev's "very favorable" response.

On March 27, Soviet Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko went to the White House to see Kennedy, principally about Laos. Again the matter of a meeting of the two K.s came up, and Kennedy said he was willing. Two weeks later, Khrushchev took visiting U.S. Pundit Walter Lippmann aside in the garden of a villa in Sochi and confided the news to him.

After the Fiasco. All that happened before the Cuba fiasco and the sudden collapse of the Western position in Laos. Then Jack Kennedy had more than enough to cope with. On May 4 Ambassador Thompson reported from Moscow that the Russians wondered if Kennedy was still interested in seeing Khrushchev. With the report came hints that Khrushchev might even be willing to avoid talking about such embarrassing--to the U.S.--things as Cuba. Kennedy remained willing: he checked with Republican Richard Nixon, won Nixon's endorsement and the promise that Nixon would publicly approve a Kennedy-Khrushchev meeting even before it was officially announced

(Nixon did so--but with a politically edged suggestion that Kennedy could prove he was strong even though losing his battles). Kennedy also cleared the Vienna meeting with Britain's Harold Macmillan and France's De Gaulle. Last week, just before President Kennedy flew off to Canada for a state visit, Soviet Ambassador to the U.S. Mikhail ("Smiling Mike") Menshikov appeared at the White House with a letter reaffirming Khrushchev's interest in a meeting. Kennedy gave his consent.

State of Disarray. In the past, U.S. Presidents, ranging from Franklin Roosevelt through Harry Truman to Dwight Eisenhower, have never fared too well in face-to-face meetings with Soviet dictators--even when the U.S. was dealing from strength. There was no doubt that Jack Kennedy, his New Frontier foreign policies currently in a state of some disarray, was taking a chance. But Kennedy felt confident that he could look Khrushchev squarely in the eye and effectively warn him that despite recent reverses, neither the President nor the U.S. could safe ly be pushed around. There were some who argued the necessity of the exercise: the Communists are pretty cock-a-hoop these days, sure that they can toy with the nuclear talks, conquer Laos, wreck the U.N., and maybe start something in Berlin.

There was another consideration beyond Kennedy's making a strong personal impression on Khrushchev. In his inaugural speech, John Kennedy had demanded national sacrifice to meet the challenges of the cold war. "Ask not what your country can do for you," he cried. "Ask what you can do for your country." Since then. President Kennedy has talked often and eloquently of sacrifice--without telling Americans just what they are supposed to do. Presumably, through his personal confrontation with Russia's Nikita Khrushchev, the President can complete his assessment of just how acute he thinks Communism's cur rent threat to be, and what form it will take. Then President Kennedy may be able to come home with specific measures of the sacrifices that the U.S. must make. If so, Vienna will have been of historic value.

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