Familiar Noises

Taking a leaf from the book of his democratic rivals, Nikita Khrushchev went before Moscow's TV cameras for a fireside chat of his own. In the bare, floodlighted studio, he seemed a little lost without an audience, speaking more slowly, peering at his manuscript, pausing often to gulp at the glass of mineral water at his side. On disarmament, on Laos, on Communism's future, what Khrushchev said added little to the world's knowledge of the Kremlin's inner thinking. But on the subject of Berlin, his voice had a new take-it-or-leave-it brusqueness. "We cannot delay a peace treaty with Germany any longer," rumbled Khrushchev. "A peaceful settlement in Europe must be achieved this year!"

Thus, as in November 1958, the West by implication again faced a six-month "deadline" on the security of its travel and supply routes to its isolated West Berlin outpost; for, as Nikita put it, "after the treaty, any countries wishing to maintain ties in West Berlin will have to reach agreement with the government of the German Democratic Republic." Ominously but somewhat ambiguously, he added: "If any country should violate the peace and cross the borders of others --by land, air or water--it will assume full responsibility for the consequences of aggression and will be dealt the necessary repulse."

Down with RIAS. It had all been said before, but in East Berlin the little spade beard of East German Communist Boss Walter Ulbricht fairly bobbed with joy at Khrushchev's words. Glittering, prosperous, capitalist-run West Berlin stands in humiliating contrast to Ulbricht's own drab, run-down capital just across the sector border; moreover, West Berlin's refugee centers provide the escape route for most of the 200,000 skilled workers, engineers, farmers and white-collar professionals who flee Ulbricht's miserable country for the West each year, sapping East Germany's very lifeblood.

"All refugee camps must be closed," snapped Ulbricht before a huge East Berlin press conference. RIAS, the U.S.-run radio station heard by hundreds of thousands of East Germans, must be "liquidated." And Tempelhof, the big airport in the heart of West Berlin, would have to go out of business. "The present danger, noise and nuisance of low-flying planes over the central districts of Berlin must cease," Ulbricht insisted indignantly.

Except for such minor restrictions, said Ulbricht, the Western allies could come and go as they pleased along the air corridors, railway lines, highways and canals that cut through 100 miles or more of East German territory on the way to West Berlin. But of course, he added, the West must in the future negotiate with East Germany for permission to use the routes. "We shall make our proposal," said Ulbricht. "They will make theirs."

Border Bonfires. Everyone understood Nikita's problems. He had to keep Walter Ulbricht happy and hopeful, for beleaguered East Germany is still the machine shop of the Communist bloc, supplying tools, autos and heavy equipment to virtually all the satellite nations in the COMECON trade partnership. Khrushchev was also under pressure to produce a success of some kind for October's 22nd Party Congress in Moscow, when all his policies will come under scrutiny.

No one in the West was going to war if Khrushchev simply signed a peace treaty with East Germany's Ulbricht. But the Western allies were pledged--and prepared--to fight if necessary to protect the 2,200,000 doughty West Berliners and their life line to the West.

As usual, the West Berliners were the least intimidated. For fear of an incident, the Bonn government nervously canceled plans to hold a symbolic meeting of the Bundesrat (upper house) in West Berlin. Chancellor Konrad Adenauer grimly called on West Berliners to "hold firm on the certain hope for reunification, peace and freedom." Needing no urging, tough West Berlin Mayor Willy Brandt defied Ulbricht's warnings, addressed a mass rally at city hall to mark the eighth anniversary of the East German uprising. At dusk, thousands gathered to hear Brandt cry: "We will survive because we have good friends." All over the city, West Berliners put candles in their windows and lit huge bonfires plainly visible in the Communist sector as the signal of their determination to keep the flame of freedom alive.

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