Painting the Radishes Red . .

Ask Frenchmen where France's famed Radical Socialist Party stands, and nine out of ten will first explain that it is neither radical nor socialist. "Their hearts are on the left, their pocketbooks on the right." wrote Commentator Andre Siegfried. Someone else has described them:

"They are like radishes, red on the outside, white inside, and always surrounded by plenty of butter." Last week, gathered in annual conference, the Radical Socialists sat down for their traditional congress luncheon in the gastronomic paradise of Lyons in hope of enjoying their butter, not to mention truffled pate, quenelles au fromage and assorted other delicacies. But they were not allowed to eat in peace.

A longhaired, blue-jawed little man in a tight suit kept glancing at his watch and staring at his colleagues. "But we've got an hour," protested one Radical. "Only 50 minutes!" snapped party First Vice President Mendes-France. Then, at the fourth course (with three to go), the impatient Mendes rose: "I realize it's against all civilized rules," he said, "but I must say a few words before the dessert. The renovated Radical Party intends to start anew by beginning its sessions on time."

They're Mendesists. This was not the first Radical precedent shattered by ambitious ex-Premier Mendes-France. Since taking over the party leadership from ancient (84) Edouard Herriot 17 months ago, he had organized a party press and a political-action school for young party members, increased party membership by 30,000. As a result the Radicals, in decline since World War II laid a shadow over their 19th century republicanism, were moving toward a comeback--one that Mendes hoped would eventually return him to a position of power. In last January's general election they polled 13% (2,500,000) of the votes, now have 55 Deputies (out of 586) in the National Assembly. Last week at Lyons the old leaders in their black coats, wing collars and walrus mustaches looked askance at the new Radicals, the young men in their sports coats and the pretty girls in ponytails. "They're not Radicals," said one, "they're Mendesists."

In the glass-ceilinged Bourse du Travail, decorated with 54 tricolors and huge quotations from such Radicals as Philosopher Alain ("Everything would rot without the Radical salt"), Mendes-France set out to reconcile the two wings, the old and the new, of his party. His first move was to have the congress confirm his expulsion of former Premier Edgar Faure, who, by his precipitate dissolution of Parliament last November, brought on the general election before the Radicals (or Mendes) were quite ready for it. He then won re-election as Vice President by a vote of 1,298 to 202. The oldsters' reaction was to demand the election of an ex ecutive committee that would curb his action. But the oldsters were outnum bered, outmaneuvered and outvoted by the youngsters.

Before It's Too Late. Advocating a policy of negotiation in Algeria, the young Radicals demanded that present Radical Ministers (there are now three) follow the example set by their idol, Mendes, when he resigned from Socialist Premier Mollet's coalition Cabinet. Yet Mendes was mindful of Socialist support that he himself wants in the future, so he got the young Radicals from Algeria into a smoke-filled hotel room, worked out a reformist policy for Algeria. Said he: "We must show the Moslems our good faith and our good will . . . Confidence must be restored. We won't get it with cannon, machine guns and airplanes." But he did not go so far as to condemn the Mollet government outright. "We don't want to change the government. We want to act together ... to do something before it is too late," he said.

The young Mendesists shouted approval, but the Old Guard was furious. Cried Deputy Andre Morice: "How can you remain in a government when you oppose it?" Morice took a dozen delegates to midnight supper, proposed that they quit the party with him. Most important of the Deputies: former Premier Henri Queuille. Hearing of the meeting, aged Party President Herriot appealed to Queuille for unity, but the leader of France's postwar immobilisme refused. Said Morice: "We've made our decision to quit. It's a fait accompli." "I will not be president of a divided Radical Party," croaked Herriot, and then resigned.

Early this week it looked as if Rebel Morice might take a number of Radical Deputies with him into a splinter group. Thus Mendes-France would be left unchallenged leader of a party with old traditions and a young membership, a situation much to his liking. Said he last week, not without a touch of complacency: "It's always the right that attacks leftist leadership."

In thus characterizing himself, Mendes was acting in the old Radical tradition of calling Red what is white inside. In Paris skeptical ex-Radical Edgar Faure said he was waiting to see how much doctrinal vigor and firmness of conduct would result from Mendes' own "renovated radicalism." So were other Frenchmen.

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