Who's for Whom?

Around the world, friends, allies and newsmen were beginning to devote themselves to the study of John F. Kennedy and Richard M. Nixon. For most of them, it was largely unfamiliar territory. So far, the most common preliminary response was to find more similarities than differences between the two candidates (see cartoon). More maliciously, Paris' satirical Le Canard Enchaine saw the election as "Tricky Dicky v. Johnny the Pinup Boy." And Paris-Jour called it a "fight of middleweights." On the strength of their own interests, their instinctive prejudices and a considerable amount of downright misinformation, the nations of the non-Communist world last week were starting to choose up sides.

In general, those nations that sigh for some way to negotiate an end to the cold war leaned to the Democrats; those that believe in the tough line felt better on the side of the Republicans. Formosa's daily Lien Ho Jih Pao suspected that "Senator Kennedy is not mature on the China problem." Many Turks seemed to agree with an Ankara businessman who said: "Nixon was willing to stand up to the Russians, but we don't know anything about Kennedy." In Britain and the Scandinavian countries, where nostalgia for Adlai Stevenson remains high, much sentiment favored the Democrats. They did not know Kennedy, but had lingering doubts about Nixon.

The Adlai Factor. Often the greatest curiosity developed over Kennedy's likely choice as Secretary of State. Indians were excited by the talk that he might pick Chester Bowles, who as Ambassador to India was an ardent Nehru fan. For the same reason, many Pakistanis leaned toward Nixon. Said one Karachi newsman: "I get cold shivers every time I think of the specter of Chester Bowles peering over Kennedy's shoulder."

West German Chancellor Konrad Adenauer was described by a recent visitor as "totally preoccupied" with the possibility that Stevenson might become Democratic Secretary of State and launch a "soft" policy on Berlin. Throbbing with suspicion, Adenauer fortnight ago sent his press chief, Felix von Eckhardt, to the U.S. to sound out Adlai's chances. (Eckhardt's conclusion, after seeing Kennedy, Stevenson, former New York Governor Averell Harriman, and "using my ears, not my mouth": nobody knows right now.)

The Esthetic Factor. As U.S. voters have been known to do, many Europeans reached their choice by tortuous paths. Some Italian anticlericals favored Roman Catholic Kennedy because he would "tell off Cardinal Spellman and set an example to our own Christian Democrats." France's tabloid Paris-Jour, after rhapsodizing over Jackie Kennedy's French ancestry and artistic leanings, declared with evident approval that she "wishes to admit to the White House the Latin Quarter, the quays of the Seine and Montparnasse." The Quai d'Orsay remembered Kennedy's explosive 1957 speech calling for independence for Algeria.

One feeling that almost all U.S. allies seemed to share was the uneasy (and exaggerated) suspicion that Dwight Eisenhower--and hence U.S. foreign policy--would be in a state of drift from now until election time, and that the U.S. had already suffered a fall in prestige. French diplomats talked of "flottement" (vacillation) and the British of "vacuum." The politest way of expressing this was the London Daily Telegraph's feeling that Ike was a "consolidator," while Kennedy or Nixon would be "innovators." Under either Kennedy or Nixon, one ingredient of the Western alliance would soon be missing: the so-I-told-Winston and remember-back-in-Africa camaraderie that has linked Ike with De Gaulle and Macmillan. But almost everybody seemed ready and eager to trade old palships for new vigor. Declared Britain's Manchester Guardian hopefully: "Whatever happens, both the Los Angeles and Chicago conventions must give America's friends the feeling that they are on the move."

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