Stubborn v. Stubborn

In an atmosphere of frustration, the International Civil Aviation Conference drew to a close last week. Five weeks of conferences in smoky rooms in Chicago's Hotel Stevens failed to resolve the fundamental differences between the U.S. and Great Britain. But they stretched tempers wire-taut.

From a delegate of one of the 50 other nations, who huddled on the sidelines while the giants fought, came a tactfully worded explanation for the conference's failure. Said he: "The British are stubborn, but disagreeably so. The Americans are stubborn, but charmingly so." This hard rock of stubbornness had, time and again, tripped up the cautious diplomatic steps to find a compromise on the big question of an all-powerful global air authority, the smaller problem of the "five freedoms of the air" under which global flying would be done. Actually, the withdrawal of Russia--occupying one-sixth of the earth--made many of these arguments academic.

Out Cartel. Britain's tall, lean-jawed Lord Swinton had steadfastly plumped for the all-powerful authority to fix plane rates, routes, and passenger and cargo quotas--in effect, he wanted to cartelize postwar air transport. Otherwise, Britain feared that the sky-filling transport fleet of the U.S. would monopolize global flying. Stubbornly, Adolph A. Berle Jr., nimble-witted chairman of the U.S. delegation, demanded the freest of competition, argued that cartelization would hamstring postwar progress in aviation.

By last week, as more than half the nations ranged themselves behind the U.S. --and free competition--the all-powerful authority had been whittled down to an international body (one vote to each nation) which would have only an advisory power on global air matters. There was also agreement on such technical matters as uniform landing signals, weather reports, etc. As New York's Mayor LaGuardia, a conference delegate, quipped: "Gentlemen, everybody is against bad weather."

In the Freedoms. Having lost his main battle, Lord Swinton fought a rear-guard action under cover of the five freedoms. Complaining that the freedoms, as drawn, were too favorable to the U.S., he blocked any agreement. (One British delegate talked bitterly of "the freedom to strangle small nations.") In a final attempt to end this deadlock last week, Berle, who resigned as Assistant Secretary of State this week (see U.S. AT WAR), presented a "take it or leave it" version of the freedoms.

Under them, signers would permit 1) flying across their territory by any signatory, 2) landing only to refuel, repair, etc., 3) unloading passengers and freight taken on in the plane's home nation, 4) loading passengers and freight destined for the plane's home nation, 5) loading passengers and freight in one nation and carrying them to any other signatory.

Take Two, Leave Three. After a careful look, Lord Swinton took the first two proposals. But he left the other three, particularly the last, which would have permitted a U.S. plane flying to Paris via London to pick up passengers in London, take them to Paris. This, he argued, might "freeze out" British short-haul airlines. The Netherlands and France sided with England. But other nations, notably Latin American and Scandinavian countries, agreed to all five.

Even these agreements were hedged, will be made outside the general agreement on the international body. With nations approving all five, the U.S. will now have multilateral agreements. Private U.S. airlines can fly to these nations--or expand present routes--as soon as war conditions permit. But with the others the U.S. will have to negotiate bilateral agreements, which it could have done in the first place. Still, the U.S. had gained what it had long wanted: the right to fly over other nations. And what the U.S. principally wants is to fly as world-widely as possible.

For those who had hoped that all the problems of global flying could be settled now and through some form of international body, the conference was a failure. But it accomplished some things (many an airman, for instance, well aware of the difference between the postwar fares which Britain and the U.S. expect to charge, cheered when rigid fare-fixing and quotas went by the board). But the U.S. is in favor of minimum fares (to prevent over-subsidization), which the airlines themselves are conferring about but which will not be a part of the pact. The net effect of the conference was: the U.S. would be free to put to best use its vast store of know-how, and its planes.

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