Surprise Visit

King Ahmed Fuad of Egypt, fat and happy, now on an official tour of Europe, last week paid a surprise visit to the League of Nations at Geneva. He caused a mild panic among the staid members of the Secretariat. Little used to entertaining pompous monarchs who travel as does Egypt's Fuad with a small army of retainers, Secretariat members thought only in the nick of time to provide a throne for the dusky, red-fezzed potentate. Acting Secretary General J. A. M. C. Avenol, flustered in the absence of his chief, suave, assured Sir Eric Drummond, madly canvassed Geneva's second-hand shops until he found a massive chair heavy with carvings and bright red plush into which the king of Egypt would decorously fit. The democratic, glass-walled Council Chamber of the Secretariat was made into a temporary throne-room, memoranda of etiquette were issued to the press, warning them to appear in sombre and respectful clothes. Wives of League officials were cautioned against offending Moslem sensibilities with bare arms, short skirts.

A last-minute blemish on the scene was abruptly removed when Secretary Avenol spied a disobedient British correspondent in a checkered suit, pushed him into an alcove.

Serene as always, King Fuad arrived, noted the makeshift throne, diplomatically tested only the edge of its capacity. To M. Avenol, still warm from his recent labors, King Fuad hinted: "Each time Egypt has been invited to international meetings under the auspices of the League she has been happy to participate."

Common knowledge is Egypt's long-standing wish to have her status as an independent kingdom confirmed by membership in the League. Equally aware, however, is the League of Great Britain's strong opposition to this step, for Egypt, which Britain relinquished as a Protectorate in 1922 but which she still maintains the right to control because of the Suez Canal, is the chief route to India, vital artery of British trade.

Easy-going King Fuad's surprise visit was not regarded, last week, as more than another impotent gesture, destined to bear little fruit.