How the U.S. Got the Word

Unknown to the world outside, Warsaw Pact troops were pouring across Czechoslovakia's borders. In his White House basement office, Walt Rostow was routinely examining the backlog of paper that accumulates each evening on the desk of the President's special assistant for national security. The first hint of crisis came at 7:05 p.m., when Soviet Ambassador Anatoly Dobrynin told Rostow by telephone: "I have a message from Moscow which I am translating. I have been instructed to give it orally to the President."

In Russian-American intercourse, this ranks just below the hot line in urgency. Rostow arranged an 8 p.m. appointment with Lyndon Johnson.

Meanwhile Johnson and Rostow con ferred by phone with Secretary of State Dean Rusk. They were not sure the subject was Czechoslovakia, but they suspected as much. At the President's regular Tuesday luncheon a few hours earlier, a major topic had been Soviet military preparedness for an invasion. Rusk went ahead to a Democratic Plat form Committee hearing.

Inevitable Pause. Dobrynin arrived on time. While waiting for the presidential summons, he complimented Rostow on his tan, recently acquired in the Virgin Islands, and complained genially about the capital's damp heat. "But Moscow does not regard Washington as a hardship post," he chuckled. Then they went upstairs to the first-floor Cabinet Room. Johnson joined them after a few minutes. He ordered a Scotch and soda for his guest, a Fresca for himself. He took his cus tomary seat at the table's center, with Rostow on his left to take notes. Do brynin, across six feet of dark mahogany, settled down in Hubert Humphrey's chair. There was some more small talk, then the inevitable pause in such a meeting, signaling the transition to serious business. It was about 8:30.

For the next five minutes, Dobrynin read from two pages of handwritten notes. What he said paralleled the message released later that night by Moscow: the occupation was in response to a Czechoslovak invitation; Czechoslovakia's security had been threatened from within and without; the entire affair was strictly internal Communist business.

Overtaken by Events. Johnson appeared impassive throughout. While he gave no hint of his innermost thoughts, White House correspondents guessed that his feelings were ambivalent. The invasion damaged his master plan for further accommodation with the Rus sians. But it also put him back in the center of action and, all too clearly, discomfited the Democrats who most loud ly condemn his war policy.

Johnson called a National Security Council meeting for 10 p.m., then settled back to watch Rusk's televised tes timony, expecting the Secretary to make the announcement. Instead, a news bulletin from Prague was handed to an NBC reporter in the hearing room moments before the White House message reached Rusk. It was passed to Rusk and then to Platform Chairman Hale Boggs, who read it to the committee. Back at the White House, Johnson told Rostow: "Our plans have been overtaken by events."

The NSC meeting was relatively routine. The participants reviewed the skimpy information available, speculated on the Soviets' motives, decided that a response be given to Dobrynin immediately. Rusk summoned the ambassador to the State Department for an 11:30 p.m. meeting to hear a strongly worded U.S. protest against the invasion. Rusk specifically rejected the contentions that Prague invited the intervention and that there had been any external threat to Czechoslovakia. Between the lines was Washington's all too apparent awareness that it could do as little in secret as it could openly to save Czechoslovakia from its fate.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.