The Great Decision

The dream of a United States of Europe has captivated statesmen from Charlemagne to Churchill. But for Britain, still dreaming of the days when it was the greatest power on earth, togetherness with the Continent has always seemed a kind of national capitulation, and it has remained proudly aloof across the 20 miles of Channel water separating it from Europe. The more Britain's relative power in world affairs ebbed, the more Britain seemed afraid that her own prideful identity might be lost in a vast new European nation. Stretching from the Atlantic to the Iron Curtain, from the Arctic Circle to the Mediterranean littoral, a united Europe would dwarf Russia in the world's industrial hierarchy. Its literate, highly skilled peoples would outnumber those of the U.S. by many millions.

Despite Britain's reluctance, the dream of union has survived. And last week Britain finally succumbed to its lure. In a House of Commons so packed that even the chamber gangways were stuffed with squatting M.P.s, Prime Minister Harold Macmillan waited for a tense, expectant hush. Then he announced that Great Britain had finally decided to apply to join the Common Market, the three-year-old and amazingly successful economic union of France, West Germany, Italy, Belgium, Luxembourg and The Netherlands.

His long face flushed with emotion, Macmillan spelled out his message in slow, measured tones. The Common Market, he said, was helping "to promote unity and stability in Europe, which is so essential a factor in the struggle for freedom and progress. I believe it is both our duty and interest to contribute toward that strength by securing the closest possible unity within Europe."

National Disaster. Backbench Tories hooted with cries of "Shame!" Conservative M.P. Anthony Fell.* a former New Zealand sheep farmer, leaped to his feet, rudely accused Macmillan of making "a shocking statement, full of political doubletalk." When Macmillan rose magisterially to protest, Fell yelled, "No! I can be told to sit down by Mr. Speaker, but I cannot be told to sit down by the Prime Minister," went on to call Macmillan a "national disaster" and urge him to resign.

If anyone else felt as strongly, he did not say so. Nonetheless, feelings were high. Opposition Leader Hugh Gaitskell favors joining the Common Market but feared dividing his party over it. He lamely said Labor would simply reserve judgment on the government motion, voting neither for nor against it. As a result, the historic decision was carried by a resounding 313-5 (voting against: Tory Fell and four dissident left-wing Socialists).

It was hardly a triumph of personal leadership on either side. Macmillan had been pushed by a Britain ready to take the cross-Channel plunge long before its shivering Prime Minister even stuck a toe in the water.

Little & Late. Ever since he began tentative talks with the Six, nine months ago, it has been increasingly evident that a majority of articulate Britons are anxious to get into the Common Market. Most of British industry, eager for the vast new selling opportunities in Europe, has favored the idea from the start. Fleet Street newspapers, left and right, with the conspicuous exception of Lord Beaver-brook's isolationist Daily Express, have urged a move to market. Even British farmers, whose subsidized foodstuffs would have to compete with French and Dutch produce, have been assured that their interests would be looked after.

Still Macmillan hung back. He sent three of his Cabinet ministers touring the Commonwealth, neglected to arm them with any practical proposals for the protection of Commonwealth interests should Britain join. Predictably, all came back with briefcases full of angry objections to Britain's entry (TIME, July 21). Only the onset of Britain's sixth major postwar economic crisis, and the full realization, as the conservative Daily Telegraph noted, that "we cannot be again what we once were, and we cannot go on as we are," finally forced Macmillan to a decision. By then, as Australia's Adelaide Advertiser acidly observed, "No decision of such potential importance to the world caused less surprise."

Self-Confident Speed. Now Macmillan and Britain must pay the price of their hesitation: invited to get in on the ground floor when the Common Market was started in 1957, Britain flatly refused, moved by its Commonwealth ties, its historic insularity and a smug conviction that the Market would never succeed. The Common Market's progress has surprised even its most fervent backers.

Trade between the Six jumped 19% during their first year as a Common Market, 25% last year, continues its headlong rise this year. It now amounts to a billion dollars a month. As a result, the Six will reduce tariffs among themselves by 20% next January, v. the 10% scheduled. Moving into the future with self-confidence and speed, the Six will brook little quibbling on the part of Suitor Britain. France, in particular, is likely to insist that Britain accept all the Common Market's basic aims--including the political goal of some kind of a federated, united Europe.

The Six welcomed Macmillan's announcement and pointedly emphasized its political implications. "I see this decision," said West German Foreign Minister Heinrich von Brentano, "as a step of extraordinary political importance." France's Foreign Minister Maurice Couve de Murville asked the Six to get to work immediately to make way for Britain's entry. Two of Britain's partners in the rival Outer Seven block, Norway and Denmark, promptly asked for admission too. Sweden and Austria, always hesitant about joining Western groupings, asked to be considered as associate members.

Vindication & Victory. For two of the Common Market's farseeing architects. Britain's overture was both a vindication and a victory. France's Jean Monnet, 72, who conceived the idea of a Common Market and is now head of the informal Action Committee of the United States of Europe,* has lobbied constantly and quietly in Britain ever since the Common Market began, encouraging Britain to join. Monnet praised Macmillan's decision as "an act of political courage.''optimistically expressed the hppe that Britain might be in by the end of the year (most observers expect the negotiations will take nearly a year). Belgium's Paul-Henri Spaak, 62, who presided over the drafting of the Treaty of Rome that put the Common Market in business, was equally delighted. He volunteered to preside over the delicate negotiations, and may get the job.

The Commonwealth, which now sends its exports into Britain under preferentially low tariffs, acted predictably with less enthusiasm. In New Zealand the Christchurch Press, which speaks for the country's farms that now send some 90% of their meat and dairy produce to Britain, mourned that "the easy years may be over; and they have been easy years." Australia, though worried, made the best of it. "We hope, with the assistance of Britain," said Prime Minister Menzies, "to be participants in the negotiations, which I believe to be the most important in time of peace in my lifetime."

Somebody else who had reason to worry was Nikita Khrushchev, who has recurrent nightmares over the prospect of a powerful, prosperous, united Europe as a next-door neighbor. "Never before in Britain's history has there been such a case of economic and political capitulation," raged Radio Moscow, added nervously, "nor one so overt and far-reaching in its consequences." For not the least of the gains from the emergence of a united Europe would be an incalculable strengthening of the Western alliance. Said British Labor M.P. Desmond Donnelly, summing up the significance of entry into the Common Market: "Britain's frontier will be not at Dover, but at the Brandenburg Gate."

*Reminiscent of Oxford's 17th century dean, Dr. John Fell, whose reputation survives in one lethal quotation. He once threatened Poet Thomas Brown with university expulsion, promised to rescind the order if Brown could deliver an impromptu translation of Martial's 32nd Epigram ("Non amo te, Sabidi, nee possum dicere quare; Hoc tantum possum dicere, non amo te"). Brown's translation:

I do not love thee, Dr. Fell;

The reason why, I cannot tell;

But this I know, and know full well;

I do not love thee, Dr. Fell.

Brown's wit won him a reprieve.

*His latest enthusiasm: a common monetary reserve, looking toward a common European currency. The plan is now under Common Market study.

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