The Perils of Peace

In the restored House of Burgesses at Williamsburg, where Patrick Henry declaimed against the Stamp Act ("If this be treason, make the most of it"), a Virginia lady in lace cap and farthingale had words last week with Georgy Zarubin, emissary of the biggest colonial power on earth. "This is hallowed ground," Mrs. John Henderson, a guide, explained to Soviet Ambassador Zarubin, who was there with 30 fellow diplomats for the 180th anniversary celebration of the Virginia Declaration of Rights. "This is a shrine to the principles of freedom," she went on, "and for us Americans the greatest meaning, the greatest joy and the greatest pride lies in the knowledge that this shrine which is ours is not ours only, but for freedom-loving peoples all over the world. And they come here from all over the world, as you, to sit in this building in reverence and homage."

Georgy Zarubin surveyed the ceiling and the woodwork with the detachment of a minion of George III; then the Soviet ambassador smiled a faint smile. "Yes, of course. I understand." he commented on Mrs. Henderson's little talk. "Very nice."

The Battle for Minds. Georgy Zarubin's pilgrimage to Williamsburg was a symptom of the new phase in the battle for men's minds, which last week flared with new intensity throughout the free world. The Soviet policy of smiles was picking up mileage and momentum by the minute, relaxing freedom's watchfulness, exacerbating the free world's differences, as the urgency of fear was removed. In suburban Hyattsville, Md., First Secretary Alexander Zinchuk of the Soviet embassy made a jovial pitch for a U.S.-Russian bridge across the Bering Strait so man could ride by road and rail from Hyattsville to the Kremlin. Back home in the U.S.S.R. Nikita Khrushchev feted Premier Guy Mollet of France as the "flying swallow of peace." Along with the smiles, the Communists offered what appeared to the world's unwise to be a substantial concession: the demobilization of 1,200,000 fighting men (see FOREIGN NEWS).

The Western position was under fire on many fronts. Nasser's Egypt excoriated the U.S., recognized Red China and shouted about buying more Communist arms. British and Malayans broke off talks on the future of strategic Singapore. Algeria boiled in the biggest shooting war since Dienbienphu.

The Powerful Force. In the face of such fire the U.S. remained cool. Making its own maneuvers in the game of international hostmanship, Washington entertained one of Asia's most important neutralists, with appropriate allusions to the struggles of a new nation for independence and stability (see below).

On a broader scale Secretary of State John Foster Dulles sought to counteract the softening effect of the Soviet manpower cut on Western alertness. The U.S. welcomes the cut, he said, "if this proves to be evidence of an intent to forgo the use of force in international affairs. However, the obvious explanation is a need for greater manpower in industry and agriculture. It would be very foolish for us to drop our guard."

From Williamsburg to Cairo to Moscow, the events of last week made a sharp reminder that the perils of peace, mercifully less brutal than the horrors of war, are nevertheless real.

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