Cassava, Anyone?

Every Great Man has one Great Moment in life. For Indonesia's President Sukarno, it may well have come at 10:30 one sticky night last week in Djakarta's sports stadium. There, before thousands of cheering admirers, Bung drew himself up to his full height (5 ft. 4 in.), pointed a finger toward the sky, and announced his country's withdrawal from the United Nations.

It was one way to fame. In the U.N.'s .19 years of existence, no other nation had pulled out. There were those who thought it good riddance. But others pleaded earnestly with the stubborn leader to think twice. Japan's Premier Eisaku Sato, for instance, is said to have sent Sukarno a personal letter recalling the tragic path Japan followed, which led to Pearl Harbor, after it had been the first to abandon the League of Nations in 1933.

Swollen Ankles. But there was no backing out now. What was more, Sukarno said, Indonesia wanted no more aid from U.N. agencies--a remark that must have stirred the bellies of his underfed audience. "What is UNICEF?" cried Sukarno. "It is powdered milk. I prefer to eat cassava [a flour-yielding root]. FAO sends experts who know nothing about Indonesia's agriculture. I say to them, To hell with your aid!' "

Ostensible excuse for Indonesia's withdrawal was the seating of its fancied archenemy, British-backed Malaysia, as a nonpermanent member of the U.N. Security Council. But it had been known for months that Malaysia was assured the seat, and when the actual vote came in December, Indonesia's delegates made no protest. Could it be that Sukarno's sycophantic ministers might have kept him in the dark about the whole thing until now? True, the 63-year-old Sukarno has had his health problems. One kidney is said to be out of commission, and the other has a stone; of late Sukarno has sometimes appeared in public barefoot, with swollen ankles. Did health account for his erratic behavior?

The Forces. Probably not. A better guess seemed to be that Sukarno was bent on forming a new organization to rally what he calls the "NEFOS" (New Emerging Forces) against the "OLDE-FOS" (Old Established Forces) and thus put an end to "NECOLIM" (NeoColonialist Imperialism). There were those who feared that Sukarno was now in full collusion with Red China in a master plot to establish a Peking-Djakarta axis.

It was obvious that Sukarno was caught between his country's 2,500,000-member, Peking-controlled Communist Party (P.K.I.), third largest in the world, and the nationalist forces led by the army. It was also true that Sukarno has leaned toward the Communists of late. Last month he surprisingly dissolved the "Body for the Promotion of Sukarnoism," an organization created to counter the P.K.I. Last week Sukarno also made the decision to ban the Murba (Proletariat) Party, an anti-P.K.I. splinter group that expounds "national Communism."

Strategic Strait. Whether or not anyone buys the theory of collusion with China, eyebrows in the West rose at news of the surprise visit to Djakarta in November by Red Chinese Foreign Minister Chen Yi. Last week, while Russia was among those trying to head off Indonesia's U.N. walkout, Peking applauded it, ridiculing the world organization as "a vile place for a few powers to share the spoils." In any case, the objectives of Sukarno and Mao Tse-tung on Malaysia clearly converge: both want the downfall of its pro-West regime--a prospect that holds grave political and strategic implications for the West.

A hostile Malaysia aligned with a powerful Indonesia would halt the flow of East-West shipping through one of the world's busiest waterways--the vital Strait of Malacca (see map). And since Indonesia lies athwart other passages north of the 10th Parallel, a sea voyage from Hong Kong to Rangoon would require a detour of some 7,000 miles. Should Viet Nam also fall, west bound jetliners that now fly to India via Thailand would have to be rerouted via Australia--double the distance.

But these problems were small beside the enormous political implications. The ultimate collapse of Malaysia and Indo-China could be a coup de grace to the West's remaining position in all of Asia. The next target might well be the Philippines. Japan would be put under serious new pressure. And the psychological shock waves in Africa and the Latin American countries would be very grave indeed.

Up the Ante. Aware of the long-range stakes, the British last week poured still more reinforcements into Malaysia. Airlifted from London to Singapore were the first of 1,000 paratroopers and Scots Guardsmen. Husky, ruddy-cheeked young tommies in heavy suits and bulky sweaters, they looked like members of an oversize Rugby team. Not many miles away, other British troops stripped protective covering off small, grey woodhull ships--mothballed minesweepers and patrol boats that have been kept ready for use ever since World War II.

From East Africa steamed Britain's biggest aircraft carrier, the 44,000-ton, missile-armed H.M.S. Eagle, bringing to 70-odd the number of British vessels on patrol in Malaysian waters. Singapore bristles with British warplanes. In London, Prime Minister Harold Wilson, re-emphasizing the "resolve and determination with which we stand by our partner Malaysia," revealed that British military personnel in Malaysia total 50,000--the greatest concentration of British forces in the Far East since the Korean War.

In recent months Sukarno has enlarged his nasty little campaign against Malaysia. Formerly content with guerrilla raids across the border on Borneo, where last week Indonesia was reported massing more troops, he has sent waves of sampans loaded with armed infiltrators across the Malacca Strait into the Malay Peninsula. Most have been caught or killed. Last week another band of 14 piled ashore in swampy Johore State above Singapore; security forces quickly rounded up half a dozen.

Malaysian Prime Minister Tunku Abdul Rahman advised the U.N. that in the event of "more intensive Indonesian attacks" Malaysia "would immediately seek United Nations assistance." At home, he called for preparations for "retaliatory action." British officers are restrained on the subject of "hot pursuit" of Indonesian marauders back into Indonesia. They would seriously strike Indonesia only if it actually bombed Malaysia or launched a massive invasion. What the British really expect is more of the same sort of hit-and-run harassment. But they have beefed up their guard, as one Whitehall official put it, in case "Sukarno goes off his nut."

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