In Egypt

There are times when indiscretion is the better part of diplomacy. No one knows it better than Professor James Henry Breasted, celebrated Egyptologist of the University of Chicago.

For six months he had been trying quietly to persuade the Egyptian government to accept a large number of John Davison Rockefeller Jr.'s dollars for a museum to house the relics that diggers of all nations are constantly extracting from the soil of the oldest nation. Mr. Rockefeller had written King Fuad a personal letter, and Professor Breasted was there to back it up.

Proud Egyptian nationalists had maintained a muttering opposition. Sensitive Egyptian government archeologists had been afraid it would cast a slur on their efficiency, as they had felt when Carter and Carnarvon entered Luxor. Egyptian liberals, Egyptian scholars and King Fuad were of course quite overcome with astonished gratitude and eagerness, but they could not offend the mutterers, and an amazing bit of munificence hung fire because of a hitch at the receiving end.

So last week Professor Breasted was indiscreet. He announced Mr. Rockefeller's offer prematurely, that is, before Egypt's acceptance was certain. The figure announced was the exceedingly plump one of ten millions. So swift and sweeping was public enthusiasm that the opposition could but dwindle. King Fuad waited to compose his reply, but a Rockefeller architect, fresh from Cairo, declared that all was well, that plans were already being draughted for two one-story buildings to stand on the island of Gezira, opposite Cairo's richest residential quarter. These are to cost about five and a half millions, the balance of the gift being banked to maintain them.

Some of the nationalist opposition to Mr. Rockefeller's gift was excited by his stipulation that the museum be for 30 years under an international directorate of scientists, headed by Professor Breasted.