Hot Wind

"It's nothing but a bloody schmozzle," growled a British union leader as he wiped his sweating neck and swigged a pint of beer. "A damnable piece of impertinence --Cripps at his blasted governessing again," said an industrialist, sipping his Pimm's No. 1 on the terrace of Pall Mall's Royal Automobile Club. In London last week there was thunder from both left and right when Britain's economic boss, Sir Stafford Cripps, announced that he had asked for American advice on how to increase British production.

Britons sweated in record-breaking heat and a torment of national pride. The nation that had cradled the Industrial Revolution bristled at the thought that it needed industrial advice. Murmured one observer: "It's the psychological reaction of a once-great power when she realizes she's got to be dependent on another."

"A Sellout!" Economic Cooperation Administrator Paul G. Hoffman had set up a $6,000,000 fund for U.S. technical advisers to EGA countries. Cripps summoned the National Production Advisory Council of Industry and proposed a joint Anglo-American Council of six labor men from Britain's Trades Union Congress, six manufacturers from the Federation of British Industries and six American industrial experts, including labor leaders. The NPACI agreed.

That was all Cripps needed. He promptly arranged matters with Hoffman--and told the press about it before he told Parliament.

Next day, in a crowded, angry House of Commons, the storm broke. Though yellow linen blinds shaded the open windows, the atmosphere was like a, hothouse. Majority Leader Herbert Morrison took off his spectacles to wipe his eyes and forehead. Spruce David Eccles on the Tory bench discreetly eased his tie. Cripps looked comfortable and unperturbed when he described the plan in a short statement. Twenty M.P.s leaped up to cross-examine him.

"What is the need for a council of this kind?" asked Anthony Eden. "How can any industrial country give us instructions on how to conduct our business?" Communist Willie Gallacher backed Eden, shouting "A sellout!" Cripps's own Socialist supporters asked if the nationalization of iron and steel would be delayed if U.S. private enterprise was called in as adviser. The fears and frustrations of a dogged, weary nation came tumbling out. Was this council an economic instrument whereby America could keep a hold on Britain through EGA? Would it cut British exports? Would it give Americans a competitive advantage?

"Fancy 'avin' John L. Lewis." The opposition demanded a debate on Cripps's action before the House adjourned for its summer recess the next day. Eden suavely offered to give it the Conservative allotment of time that same evening. But by now the governess in Cripps was rampant; primly, he said that he had to be in Bristol that night for "a very important meeting."

Winston Churchill was up at once. Clutching the dispatch box with both hands, he thrust out his chin and growled ominously, "With great respect, may I plead humbly with the right honorable and learned gentleman to allow his duties to the House on an occasion of so much interest as this to take precedence over almost any engagement in the country?"

Cripps stiffened at the rebuke, barbed as it was with parliamentary courtesy--acquiesced and strode out to telephone Bristol. Next day the debate took place. Once again, the thermometer and the debaters' temperature soared. But the Federation of British Industries and the Trades Union Council had meanwhile cut the ground from under Parliament by backing Cripps.

Most Britons still felt fear, suspicion and indignation. "Just fancy 'avin' John L. Lewis comin' over here and tellin' us 'ow to do our bloody jobs," snapped President Will Lawther of the National Union of Mineworkers. "I'd say to 'im, 'When you take our two-foot-nine [coal] seams and give us your eight-foot seams, we might listen to yer.' "

Amid the angry babble were a few thoughtful voices. The London Times greeted the council as a "welcome means of gaining the benefits of American experience in industry."

At week's end, when the House of Commons left for its summer recess, one observer commented: "So Don Quixote has tilted at his windmills. We've all made our stand for British independence, but time and circumstances and Sir Stafford Cripps will see that the windmills go on turning just the same."

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