A Wreath for Marx

In London's Lancaster House last week the foreign ministers of the Big Four gathered for one more try at a German peace treaty. The ministers no longer expected to discover much common agreement; so they were not astonished when the first week produced one more collision of East & West.

Good Saint. Russia's Vyacheslav Molotov was given the seat with the best view, through the front windows overlooking St. James's Park and, in the distance, Buckingham Palace. Across from Molotov sat France's Georges Bidault, unobtrusive, yet bearing himself as though France were in the European ascendancy.

At the other compass points of the conference table were the U.S.'s George Marshall and Britain's Ernie Bevin. Marshall dominated the room. He sat quite erect as always, listening to everything, talking least of all. But whenever he did speak, or even when he made a discernible movement among his papers, he got instant, taut attention. Bevin spoke in bursts, slumped back in his chair betweentimes. Sometimes, to the horrified fascination of others at the table, he rolled his false teeth (new last year) gently back & forth in his great jaws.

Molotov was in familiar form, thundering that only the Soviet Union desired a "democratic, peace"--that the other great powers sought an "imperialist peace" and were stirring up a new war. Bevin turned his heaviest humor on that. Said he: "We are used to it now, being called warmongers. The only good saint in the world is the Soviet Union. As for the rest of us, we all come from somewhere down below, I suppose." Molotov smiled a wintry ghost of a smile.

"The Only Unanimous Thing. . . ." But encased among the Molotov allegations that day had been the pregnant phrase "a central democratic all-German government." The others appeared to pay no attention, at first. But next morning, studying the transcripts, U.S. and British delegates realized that the phrase could not be ignored. Molotov was talking straight to German nationalism and the grandstand of German public opinion, while Communist fellow travelers in the U.S. were accusing Washington of bidding for German favor.

Marshall had resolved to stay out of a propaganda contest with the Russians, yet Marshall answered: "We . . . sincerely desire to see a democratic government established in Germany at the earliest possible moment." Said Bevin: "It is the desire of the British government that at the earliest possible opportunity a central government should be established. But . . . how is it to be elected? What powers is it to have? . . ."

Bevin summed up the first few sessions with a sigh: "The only unanimous thing we can do is disagree."

The conferees had little time for parties and games. Thanksgiving Day, Bevin and Marshall found time for a noon meal of turkey and brussels sprouts with the American Society. One day Marshall dropped around to 28 Hyde Park Gate and had lunch with Winston Churchill. On Sunday, Molotov, with some dialectical-devotional time on his hands, drove out to Highgate Cemetery, where he laid a wreath on the grave of Karl Marx. Next day, pleading previous engagements, he turned down George Marshall's invitation to lunch.

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