The Hard Bargainer

All week long, a sour little man in a rumpled blue suit, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, darted among the Homburg-hatted diplomats of the West and flummoxed them. France's Pierre Mendes-France was something new to postwar diplomacy. He made no effort to appear obliging, did not seem to care whether anybody liked him personally or not. He had little to bargain with except the hopes he himself had aroused by pledging his troth to Western European Union in London. Now, with all the invitations issued, the guests on hand, the church bells pealing and the altar in sight, he was using that hope as a lever, threatening to balk unless he got his way on just one little matter.

The Germans arrived in Paris in high spirits. "Since the French did not want us to have an army, we agreed to EDC. Now they don't want us to have EDC, so we will oblige them by agreeing to have an army," cracked one German. "I've come with great hope," said Konrad Adenauer. But Mendes soon let Adenauer know what his little matter was. It was the Saar.

Hope & Cold Flame. To broach the matter, Mendes invited Adenauer out to a small 17th century chateau near Versailles which French kings had maintained for favorite mistresses. In a small chamber warmed by a fire on the hearth, the two faced each other across a narrow table: Mendes, hooded, saturnine, a man like a cold, dark flame that cuts through difficulties or friendships with impartial efficiency; old Konrad Adenauer, German man of good will, behind whose craggy face still loomed the memory of his nation's blood-ridden record.

"We've got to take all the dossiers out of the drawer," said Mendes. He began that afternoon with hope. He spoke of a Moselle canal to link Lorraine's economy with the Ruhr, of a Rhone canal to open the Mediterranean to Germany, of joint arms plants, of joint German-French companies to develop France's North African territories. The Saar, Mendes indicated, could be just a small item in a new, sweeping Franco-German era of partnership.

At 5:30 the two Premiers took a break to stroll around the pond in the autumn dusk. Then Mendes broached the question on which the week's success (and German sovereignty) depended. The French Assembly would not tolerate any economic isolation of the Saar from France, Mendes said bluntly, or agree to its political union with Germany. It must remain "European-ized," even if there was no longer any European community to which to attach it. Adenauer was reluctant to renounce all claim to the Saar as German territory. Mendes conceded that any agreement reached would be provisional pending a final German peace treaty. But until then, Mendes insisted, the agreement must be "definite." There could be no agitation for return to Germany. The Saar Landtag must pass laws punishing anyone who wrote, spoke or acted against the agreement, making it as sacrosanct as the Swiss policy of neutrality (a Swiss may not agitate against neutrality).

Adenauer was taken aback. Mendes shrugged. It had to be, he insisted. Adenauer objected that his coalition leaders would never agree in effect to muzzle German parties and newspapers. Ask them, suggested Mendes. Adenauer said he would see them when he got back to Bonn, and let Mendes know. That would not do, said Mendes; he had to know this week. Adenauer agreed to summon his coalition leaders to Paris.

Before breaking up for dinner, Mendes asked when Adenauer was returning to Bonn. Probably Saturday night, said Adenauer. "Oh, hell," said Mendes. "That means we've got to get this agreement on the Saar by Saturday then." Mendes likes deadlines, and Adenauer understood: if he did not agree to a Saar solution by Saturday, Mendes would not sign Germany into sovereignty. Der Alte drove back to Paris tired and discouraged. "Many things lie heavily on my heart," he told his aides.

Good Will, Vague Promises. They still lay heavily next day as John Foster Dulles and Sir Anthony Eden flew in for the four-power meeting designed to restore German sovereignty.

But when the Saar was not concerned, Mendes was all reason and optimism. He politely declined the chairmanship of the four-power meeting, saying that this was only a continuation of the London Conference, and Sir Anthony should preside. Soon other diplomats were swarming into Paris (and it took a practiced diplomat to know which was a meeting of the Big Four, the Big Nine, or the Big Fourteen). Smoothly, as if he had not a reservation in the world, Mendes joined with the other four members of the Brussels Treaty, plus Canada and the U.S., to approve the admission of West Germany and Italy into a Western European Union or WEU. And with Dulles and Eden he quickly assented to the legalese worked out by the experts to restore German sovereignty. Mendes turned to Eden, remarked: "You see, I told you yesterday it wouldn't take more than 15 minutes." That night Adenauer returned to his hotel tired but happy. Brussels was settled. Sovereignty was in sight.

But ignored in the atmosphere of good will, a French and a German representative had been haggling all day in the Hotel Bristol over the Saar settlement. The French kept insisting on the word "irrevocable." Adenauer's coalition leaders, arriving from Germany, were firmly opposed to any concession which would permanently detach the Saar from Germany. "I cannot go to my Parliament with some vague promise that we will agree on the Saar sometime in the future," Mendes told Adenauer.

Miracle in Sight. The next day brought the crisis. At breakfast, the German representative told Adenauer that the French would not give an inch. There was no use continuing the haggling. Mendes retorted by summoning his Cabinet, extracting a unanimous declaration of support for his stand. To make his point emphatic, Mendes announced he would not sign anything at all until he had a Saar settlement, proved he meant what he said by refusing to sign a purely procedural letter from the occupying powers to Adenauer.

In the afternoon, the ministers of the 14 NATO powers gathered. "As a matter of courtesy" they invited Chancellor Adenauer to attend the session as an observer. While Adenauer watched silently from a corner of the table, the council swiftly ground through its business. It approved a protocol inviting West Germany to join NATO and a resolution giving the Supreme Allied Commander Europe added powers to station troops and establish supply bases wherever he chose. Mendes haggled politely over what military items Germany was to manufacture, but dropped his expected demand that German forces be "integrated" at the division level, and accepted instead integration at army group (200,000 men) or army (100,000 men) levels. Mendes, too, was taking risks. For the only protection France had left against Germany's new might was the NATO commander's ability to "turn off the gas" by cutting off its supplies.

With success in sight, the ministers burst into encomiums. Dulles spoke of "a near miracle ... a shining chapter of history." Said Mendes: "Tomorrow we shall put a happy end to our work together. We shall be able to tell our Parliaments and our public that we have reached agreement." Said Konrad Adenauer: "The German people feel with great emotion the importance of this day." The formal signings were scheduled for next day.

But as Mendes left, he reminded reporters that there was still that small hitch. Said he: "I'm going to see Chancellor Adenauer tonight. I won't sign anything unless we can agree."

Exhausted Talk. Mendes and Adenauer both dined at the British embassy. After dinner, as the other diners settled down to brandy and coffee, Mendes stood up, bowed to Adenauer, and said: "Let's get on with it." Adenauer sighed and rose from his chair. Eden escorted the two of them, each with two aides, upstairs to the library. The doors closed.

The talk was hard and humorless. Small talk and jokes were ignored. Now and then Mendes rose, went to the window, stared into the courtyard. Adenauer remained seated. Downstairs, Eden waited.

At 3 a.m. Mendes and Adenauer emerged. Ashtrays were overflowing with cigar and cigarette butts. Paper littered the rugs, protruded from the pockets of tired diplomats. Exhausted, both Mendes and Adenauer left hastily, not realizing that Eden was waiting up for them. At Adenauer's hotel, waiting newsmen asked him if the agreement would be signed. Said Der Alte wearily: "I think so--I mean, I hope so. I won't bet money on it."

Price Paid. After a few hours' sleep, Der Alte faced his assembled coalition leaders in his headquarters in the Bristol Hotel, told them the price he had had to pay for sovereignty. In the political field, he had been forced far beyond the limits they had set for him. The settlement puts the Saar under the Western European Union. Adenauer agreed to a plebiscite within three months on the agreement, in which German parties will be free to campaign for or against it--but for nothing else. Once the agreement is approved by plebiscite, anyone assailing it will be liable to punishment. At the time of the peace treaty, another plebiscite will decide whether the Saarlanders want to keep their "European" status. Erich Ollenhauer, leader of the Socialist opposition, flatly opposed the terms. Adenauer's own coalition leaders argued bitterly for an hour, but finally swallowed the pill. Mendes-France had won his concessions.

The Deadline. All morning long negotiators haggled over details, reached agreement only one hour before the signing ceremonies were scheduled. With only 15 minutes to go, Mendes rushed over to the Quai d'Orsay to get his Cabinet's approval, then met Konrad Adenauer in his private office. They signed. Then the Premier hustled the Chancellor down the hallway to the state dining room where Eden, Dulles and the other WEU ministers were waiting.

There, sitting on ornate chairs so high that little (5 ft. 6 in.) Mendes-France could not touch the floor with his toes, the ministers signed the documents restoring Germany's sovereignty and establishing WEU. Then they all hurried across the Seine to the Palais de Chaillot, where the 14 NATO powers signed Germany in as a member. Early in the alphabetical order, Mendes-France signed for France, then busied himself with the afternoon newspapers, taking no further interest in the proceedings. He did not have to. He had gotten what he wanted.

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