Toward the Summit of Truth

"At the Copenhagen summit," said a top-ranking American diplomat last week, "Europe will make its declaration of independence." That prediction is potentially true, possibly exaggerated. A Liberty Bell will not be rung in Copenhagen, but the statement of principles that is expected to come out of an extraordinary meeting of Western Europe's heads of government this week may one day be considered as symbolically important to Europeans as the Declaration of Independence is to Americans. A generation after the end of World War II, Western Europe seems determined to begin charting its own course--independent of the U.S.

Europeans have often been vexed before by their dependence on the U.S., but never quite so annoyed as to agree on common policies. A combination of events--the Middle East war, the oil shortage, detente and what Europeans consider American arrogance--may, however, be the catalyst that brings unity. "We have lost a decade in European unity," says an aide to French President Georges Pompidou. "But because of the Middle East war we are moving once again. Europe has always advanced only in crises and never in calm. Copenhagen will be the summit of truth to see whether or not there is the political will for Europe to go forward."

The Copenhagen summit was set up within 24 hours after Pompidou proposed it last month. To underscore its urgency, the day-and-a-half meeting has been stripped of the usual bureaucratic trappings, so that the discussion can proceed, as French Foreign Minister Michel Jobert phrases it, "without constraints, without procedure and with an open heart." The nine heads of government will meet alone in a Copenhagen exposition hall, with only their translators. To achieve intimacy, as well as to preserve secrecy, even their dinners will be small affairs; the heads of government will dine in one room while the Foreign Ministers eat in another. There will be no formal agenda--for this will be what the French call an informal, "fireside" summit--merely a list of topics. Among them:

THE MIDDLE EAST AND OIL. Far more hurt by the Arab oil cutback than the U.S., the Europeans are outraged that no European country has been invited to the Geneva peace conference. The British and the French are particularly frustrated. Britain once considered the Middle East almost its own; France, since Charles de Gaulle, has been consistently pro-Arab. Both countries nonetheless find themselves now suffering from the oil shortages.

In a spirit of near-desperation, Jobert, who recently complained that the superpowers had treated Europe like a "nonperson" in the Middle East negotiations, last month suggested a conference between the Arabs and the Europeans, without American or Russian participation. The Arabs, however, have not yet responded.

Besides feeling left out, some Europeans believe that the U.S. seriously bungled in the Middle East. The Germans insist that they gave Washington notice last March that the Arabs were ready to negotiate peace--or go to war. "Washington dragged its feet," says one Bonn official. "We sent people to Washington to explain the situation. We were ignored. The Americans said we had to wait until after the Israeli election [originally scheduled for Oct. 30]. We told them that the Arabs wouldn't wait, that it was a war situation again. They didn't listen." Washington, for its part, argues that there was no clear evidence of another Middle East war.

EAST-WEST DETENTE. The European distrust of detente--as defined by Washington and Moscow--grows every week. The French believe that, at best, the relaxation of tensions allows the superpowers to carve up the world into neat spheres of influence, and, at worst, that it is pure collusion based on raw power. The outspoken French attitude has angered the Russians who find a similarity between the Paris line and Peking's. As a result, a chill has come over the Paris-Moscow friendship so carefully nurtured by De Gaulle, and the French are busily strengthening neglected ties within the Common Market.

THE ATLANTIC ALLIANCE. At the same time that the French are turning more toward their neighbors and allies, other European countries are turning to the gospel as written by Charles de Gaulle--at least as far as the U.S. is concerned. De Gaulle never trusted the Americans; some other Western European nations, which once thought that he was espousing divisive heresy, now tend to believe that he was right. Particularly disturbing was the worldwide alert of American armed forces during the supposed confrontation with the Soviet Union in October. The Europeans are still not sure that the U.S. did everything it could have to inform them.

The Europeans now take it for granted that American troops will one day be withdrawn from the Continent. For the first time--belatedly--they are thinking about the unthinkable: what they will do then. There is some talk of a common European defense policy, outside of NATO. The Europeans are now seriously studying how they would build a truly credible Continental nuclear deterrent in the 1980s.

Mistrust of the U.S. has been a long time growing, but it has gained sudden force within the last year. The political assassinations and riots of the '60s, together with the undertone of violence in the U.S., had already shaken confidence in the stability of American society. The twin disasters of Viet Nam and Watergate have raised serious doubts about the quality of American leadership. These events, coupled with the decline of the dollar, have raised questions about the viability of the alliance with the U.S. Europeans are under no misconceptions about their own meager military strength, but they do feel that they can no longer rely so heavily on their principal transatlantic ally.

Eroding Reputation. The Europeans are also angry about the Nixon-Kissinger policy toward Europe itself. A year ago, Kissinger was regarded with awe in the capitals of the Old World, but his reputation is eroding--often for petty reasons and without understanding that the real issues go deeper than personality. In a typical remark, a member of the Belgian Cabinet says: "Maybe it's because of his European background, but he thinks he has to be tough with us to prove himself to Americans. It's like the convert becoming more Catholic than the Pope."

The U.S., of course, has some complaints about its allies; one of them is that Western Europe has largely itself to blame for the present plight. American taxpayers have long been forced to bear a disproportionate share of NATO defense. The weakness of the dollar can be blamed in part on overseas expenses involved in keeping American troops on European front lines. Kissinger, moreover, has long argued that Europe should speak with one voice rather than nine --one of his key points in calling for a new Atlantic charter. Both Europe and the U.S. would benefit, he has said, if Europe were less dependent on Washington. If Europe was not treated like an equal in Middle East negotiations, or anywhere else, it is mainly because it is in fact not an equal. The major European countries are simply no longer world powers as they were until World War II; a united Western Europe with accepted leadership and coherent policy could be a world power, but that is precisely what Western Europe has failed to achieve.

Both sides of the Atlantic are somewhat apprehensive about the summit. Washington knows that a unified Europe might oppose the U.S. as often as it agrees with it. The Europeans realize that independence may be now or never, and they are frightened of either prospect. "External pressures can push us to faster and better progress," explains a French official. "But if the challenge is too great, it can also destroy."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.