Britain: Sunny Acceptance

Harold Macmillan had been looking pale and tired lately. His cheeks were sunken, and in Parliament his replies lacked their old flash and fire. He and his country were on the sidelines of world affairs last week, waiting until Kennedy arrived to tell how he had fared with Khrushchev. It was a strange place for a nation that had long been the world's greatest and a man who had prided himself on being "honest broker'' between the Big Two. But by and large Britons took it rather well. "We understand and approve of the Kennedy-Khrushchev meeting." said a British official matter-of-factly. "We know that Khrushchev is no longer interested in us.''

Parochial? Some saw in the new British mood a dangerous complacency, even isolationism. Britain has ended the draft and apparently has no intention of boosting its troop commitments to NATO. The ban-the-bombers grow noisier every year--fortnight ago, 1,000 of them stormed down on Holy Loch, the inlet where Polaris subs base, and had to be driven off with fire hoses. Wrote visiting New York Timesman James Reston from London: "Just as we lived our own isolated lives behind the British navy in the 19th century, so the British are now living in their own parochial way behind the American Air Force and rockets."

But Britain is engaged in the distinctly unparochial task of bringing freedom and order to vast sections of Africa. The government, under pressure from big industry and public opinion, is ready to abandon Britain's 1,000-year policy of insularity and offer to join the Common Market --just as soon as it can get decent terms from Charles de Gaulle. The vast majority of Britons wholeheartedly support maintenance of the nuclear deterrent and NATO. In fact, the ban-the-bombers, despite their noise, seem to be losing ground as a political force. Last month two big British unions reversed their stand in favor of unilateral disarmament. If a few more unions follow suit. Labor Party Leader Hugh Gaitskell will have the block votes to repeal the disastrous unilateralist defense policy approved by the annual Labor Party conference last summer.

Agitating some parochial types is the "Americanization" of Britain. They worry about the U.S. stake in the British economy--now $3 billion and growing by $450 million a year. "The takeover men are constantly on the lookout for more." warned the New Statesman's Francis Williams. "American films. American books. American songs shape the pattern of our thinking."

Pay Up. But such American invaders as Huckleberry Hound, instant cake mix. Perry Como, planned kitchens and Seventh Avenue dresses are getting an enthusiastic welcome from the public. Arrow shirts are blossoming on the most decorous male chests, and even musty Savile Row is turning to untraditional ways. Though one of the classic descriptions of an English gentleman is that he always owes his tailor, Gieves Ltd., which dresses 90% of all naval officers (including Prince Philip), recently sent an astonishing letter to its clients. Pointing out that they owed a total of $1,732,018, Gieves announced that the firm would start charging a penny a month interest on every pound.

With unemployment at only 1.3%, Britons were enjoying unprecedented prosperity. Shops were crowded and spring was sunny. At the annual running of the Derby last week (see SPORT), the total money bet set an alltime record. The British spend less time than Americans worrying about Berlin or Laos--and almost none worrying about Castro, who is widely regarded as just another Nasser. In fact, Kennedy has been frankly concerned that the British might be getting ready to make concessions in Berlin rather than face the possibility of war. But last week British Defense Minister Harold Watkinson declared that the West would meet force with force--nuclear if necessary--if Berlin was threatened. On the record, there was no reason for the U.S. to doubt that the British meant what they said.

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