Story of a Cause

The Berlin crisis was by far the gravest issue yet referred to U.N.'s uncertain authority. It represented a crisis for U.N. itself: it was the first time that one of the Big Two (on whose supposed unity U.N. was based) had directly accused the other of threatening the peace. Yet, for free men, there was inspiration in U.N.'s General Assembly. In Paris unfolded the story of people with a cause, who had found words of force and dignity to tell it.

"There Is No Plot." George Marshall's was the first major speech of the session. No parade ground general, he spoke, in the undramatic tones of an economics professor, to a soberly attentive audience. Said he: "Systematic and deliberate denials of basic human rights lie at the root of most of our troubles . . . [There is a] persistent refusal of a small minority to contribute to the accomplishment of our agreed purposes . . . There is no plot among members of this organization to keep any nation or group of nations in a minority. The minority position is self-imposed . . ."

Two days later, Russia's Andrei Vishinsky strode to the rostrum. In his best prosecutor's fashion, he once more listed U.S. citizens whom he considered warmongers (Secretary James Forrestal, Senator Styles Bridges, et al). Vishinsky proposed an international control body under the Security Council (where Russia has a veto) to supervise a general 33 1/3% armament reduction. He also repeated Russia's demand for the immediate outlawing of the atomic bomb. That was the old story --Russia wants the U.S. to destroy its bombs but at the same time Russia refuses to accept an international control and inspection system, proposed by the U.S., which would see to it that the bomb's "outlawing" is adhered to by all parties.

Said Scotsman Hector McNeil, a member of the British delegation: "Cauld kail het again" (Cold cabbage warmed over).

"Open Up the World." Then the world's town meeting saw an awesome spectacle--a Briton in a rage. For almost a year Ernest Bevin's voice had been subdued; illness had weakened him, and the protracted Palestine struggle, in which he often found himself at odds with Washington, had embittered him. He has made some of the dreariest speeches in the 700-year history of the House of Commons. Last week, he was the old Ernie Bevin again, the great commoner who--when Russia first threatened to sink U.N. 2 1/2 years ago--had lifted U.N. above its fears. He was the same Bevin who, as labor leader and as war leader, had learned how to get up and yell for freedom. His speech embodied the West's great and simple moral cause.

Said Bevin: "If the black fury, the incalculable disaster of atomic war, should fall upon us, one power, by refusing its cooperation in the control and development of those great new forces . . . will alone be responsible for the evils which may be visited upon mankind . . ." Swiveling his great bulk toward Vishinsky, Bevin cried: "If the Soviet representative had any feeling for the simple people of Europe or the world, if he were animated by anything but out-of-date, backward, unscientific doctrine, he would be the first to applaud the great, unselfish contribution of the United States to world recovery . . ."

He called Vishinsky's complaints against a Western cold war "nonsense."

Said Bevin: "What about the Soviet war of nerves . . . which has been carried on against Turkey so long? . . .

"How can you stand before us now and make these accusations? . . . We are cooperating with our friends but we are not suggesting any attack on anyone . . . Nevertheless it is better to have our difficulties now than to live in a fool's paradise ... If ... we cannot proceed on a world basis as we had hoped, we must proceed on a regional basis. We must agree with whom we can agree, work with those with whom we can work, understand and trust those who willingly enter into trust and understanding with us ...

"Is it true that notwithstanding everything you say from this platform, it is the Marxist-Leninist conception that there can be no final agreement with non-Communist states? That everything the Soviet government does is tactics? ... To restore confidence now we need deeds, not words. Show us the deeds, give us proof of good faith . . ."

Bevin's voice broke with emotion as he cried: "Open up the world and let light and knowledge come in!"

The delegates (except the Slav bloc) were on their feet when Bevin finished. A great wave of cheering rose in the hall; there were cries of Bravo! and Tres bien! Andrei Vishinsky strode from the hall, his face a grim mask.

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