"Time Presses"

One minute the water was calm. The next, surging waves crashed against the piers, ships rolled at anchor. Then the stooping, kind-faced man leaned forward and pressed a button--and in a few seconds the water was still again.

Premier Robert Schuman, who had started and stopped the tempest in the model harbor at the French government's new hydraulic laboratory at Maisons-Alfort last week, was pleased. "What control! It's uncanny," he remarked.

High Winds. A toy storm was pleasant, for a change. All week Robert Schuman had been grappling with man-sized tempests. He badly needed a magic button to press--but nowhere in the jittery, confused National Assembly was there the solid majority which could provide it.

His first gale blew up when Socialists suddenly bucked at the idea of firing 150,000 surplus government workers--though Socialists in the Schuman cabinet were committed to the economy. The Premier demanded a vote of confidence and got it, 402-183 (his ninth in nearly seven months). Only the Communists voted against him. The size of his majority seemed almost a promise of sunny weather.

But the clouds closed in again. This time it was a group of the Assembly's rightists, Radicals and Gaullists, who were after the government. They criticized the way the nationalized utilities were being run. When the matter was put to a vote, the government squeaked by, 294-288.

And Schuman could see an even blacker cloud on the immediate horizon. The six-power London agreement to set up a provisional Western German government would soon have to be laid before the Assembly for ratification. The Communists, of course, were against it. Maurice Thorez had already called it "a national disaster." And General Charles de Gaulle promised a public statement on the subject before the debate began. That De Gaulle would be critical, there was no doubt. If he were violently critical, Radical and rightist deputies would not vote the ratification.

Pressure Area. Moreover, there were signs that De Gaulle was stepping up his campaign for new elections. The general spent most of the week closeted with aides. While bodyguards--husky youths in gaudy sweaters or black leather jackets --lounged outside the building, De Gaulle issued peremptory orders.

"Time presses," he said. "Every day brings a loss of substance to the nation. Il faut en finir [Let's put an end to it]. Parliament must be dissolved . . . and elections held as soon as possible."

As for Robert Schuman, his storms proved more than figurative. On one of his solitary walks among the Left Bank bookstalls he was caught in a cloudburst, returned home drenched. His secretary scolded him. Said Schuman: "I suppose I have too much confidence." After a pause he added: "In a manner of speaking, of course."

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