Descent from the Summit

IT is generally expected of great historic events these days that they should have some immediate, dramatic consequences. No one could deny that Richard Nixon's Peking summit was such a historic moment, or that the public's expectations were intensified by its being the first event of such magnitude ever to be staged for television. Even so, there is a widespread feeling that what followed the President's dramatic voyage was somewhat anticlimactic, a bit of a letdown--except, perhaps, for returning journalists and officials, who found themselves instant celebrities in demand for interviews and talk shows. Abroad, the trip caused plenty of comment and speculation, both favorable and unfavorable. By contrast, the U.S. reaction was rather uncritically enthusiastic.

One of the larger controversies over the China voyage, in fact, seemed to be about who could, or should, visit the People's Republic next. In the wake of the President's trip, the lineup of Americans eager to go to China was growing almost as long as the Great Wall. Julie and David Eisenhower and Tricia and Eddie Cox have been invited to Peking as tourists. Invitations have also been extended to Senate Leaders Mike Mansfield and Hugh Scott--much to the annoyance of House Speaker Carl Albert and Minority Leader Gerald Ford, who wondered why they could not go too. Albert warned that if the institutional slight was not corrected, "appropriate action" would be taken. An apologetic White House assured the Congressmen that other invitations from Peking would be forthcoming.

When the Spirit of '76 brought the President home last week, he was clearly euphoric. The festive atmosphere at Andrews Air Force Base --where Vice President Spiro Agnew headed the welcoming committee --more than made up for the tepid reception that greeted Nixon in Peking. While trumpets blared out Hail to the Chief, the plane taxied up to the edge of the crowd of cheering thousands, with the whole scene captured on television.

"We have demonstrated," said Nixon, "that nations with very big and fundamental differences can learn to discuss those differences calmly, rationally and frankly, without compromising their principles. This is the basis of a structure for peace."

Quick Mind. To keep up the spirit of summitry, Nixon and Foreign Policy Adviser Henry Kissinger spent much of last week briefing Cabinet officers, congressional leaders and newsmen on what had gone on behind the scenes in Peking. The President laid to rest all doubts that Mao Tse-tung is nothing more than a senile figurehead. For all his years and illnesses, Nixon said, he has a "very quick mind." (Kissinger also described Mao as having an earthy sense of humor.) Why, then, did the President talk with the Chairman for only an hour? The time was sufficient, Nixon replied, because the talk was kept on a high philosophical plane. How profitable that summit conversation was can only be conjectured, since philosophy is not generally considered Nixon's strong point.

Nixon was equally impressed with Chou En-lai and awed by his energy. "He was as fresh at the end of a long conversation as at the beginning," the President said. "Here is a man of 73 who acted like he was in his 40s." Nixon and Kissinger were struck by Chou's toughness and assurance as a bargainer as well as by his mastery of detail--when it served the Premier's purpose. He was well-briefed on the facts of Nixon's life, for instance. At a banquet in Shanghai, he studied the menu to make sure that changes he had ordered had been made. Chou may, in fact, have been a little too attentive to detail. After American reporters discovered that the well-dressed, cheerful Chinese milling about the Ming tombs with transistor radios had been planted there to impress the visitors, he told Nixon by way of apology: "We don't claim to be perfect. We shouldn't have done it."

Pragmatic Way. In the briefings Nixon and Kissinger expressed enthusiasm about the communique, though perhaps with less justification. They argued that the statement had been more trouble for the Chinese than for the Americans. The U.S. negotiators approached the document in a pragmatic, legalistic way; the ideological Chinese labored over every word to make sure that it was in harmony with principle --the thought of Chairman Mao. Although the communique contained no concessions by Peking, Nixon felt that it was the most moderate statement of the Chinese position he had ever seen. That was important, since the document was to be published in every newspaper in China. For the first time since the Communists came to power, a complete American statement of policy would be read by the Chinese masses, and Nixon wanted it to contain nothing offensive or seemingly belligerent.

The stickiest point, of course, was Taiwan. Kissinger insisted that, appearances to the contrary, the U.S. had not given anything away. The promise ultimately to withdraw all U.S. military forces from the island, he said, was a symbolic concession to get negotiations started with Peking. It would have been too much for the U.S. to ask the Chinese to accept a mere positive statement, such as a reaffirmation of the American defense treaty with Taiwan.

Remarkably enough, much of the U.S. political right bought Kissinger's argument. "I am satisfied," said Arizona Senator Barry Goldwater,* and so was California's Governor Ronald Reagan. Anna Chennault, a longtime supporter of Chiang Kaishek, signaled agreement by permitting her name to appear on a slate of delegates pledged to Nixon at the Republican National Convention. Some conservatives, of course, reacted as Nixon may have expected them to. Ohio Congressman John Ashbrook, who is challenging Nixon in the New Hampshire primary, called the Taiwan statement a "sellout" that will lead eventually to a Communist takeover of the island. As he arrived back in the U.S., Columnist William F. Buckley Jr. announced, "I am no longer interested in Richard Nixon," and went off to New Hampshire to aid John Ashbrook's campaign. Buckley's brother James complained in the Senate: "I felt that Richard Nixon would not repeat the mistakes of everyone else who has tried summitry."

Conservative objections were echoed by Taiwan, which denounced the communique during a visit by Assistant Secretary of State Marshall

Green, who had been dispatched to reassure U.S. allies in Asia (see THE WORLD). But the White House appeared to be convinced that it could ride out the criticism at home and abroad. As Democratic Senator Gale McGee of Wyoming put it: "You never can quiet the extreme right. Not until you drop a bomb on Peking or Moscow. But their claws have been pulled, even though they may not know it."

Top-Level Talks. For several different reasons, the State Department was also unhappy about the trip. Already nettled because so much of the nation's foreign policy is shaped by Kissinger, State officials were outraged at the treatment William Rogers received in Peking. The Secretary of State was relegated to lesser negotiations with Foreign Minister Chi Pengfei, while Kissinger attended top-level talks--a slight that a Dulles or an Acheson would never have tolerated. Even the Chinese were perplexed, some of them asking the Americans if Rogers had had a falling out with the President. He hasn't; Nixon takes Rogers' friendship and loyalty for granted, but he relies more on Kissinger for foreign policy advice.

Because Rogers is so often ignored, morale at State is by and large lower than at any other time since the late Joe McCarthy was ferreting out supposed Communists in Foggy Bottom. The hurt feelings of career diplomats were not soothed by Humorist Art Buchwald. In a cruelly funny column last week, he suggested that a top Administration secret had been blown in Peking: "The American people have discovered that there is a highly confidential organization advising the President on foreign affairs which is called the State Department." Buchwald went on to say that a "sandy-haired man" had accompanied the President and that reporters had "assumed he was a Secret Service man and paid no attention to him. When questioned about what the person was doing on the trip, Ron Ziegler reluctantly admitted that the man's name was William Rogers, he held the title of Secretary of State and he had something to do with foreign affairs."

Other Visits. Only time will tell how successful the summit actually was, and whether the President's current euphoric sense that history has been changed is justified. The story will gradually unfold as other Americans encounter the Chinese. It is expected that U.S. businessmen will soon be allowed to visit China for trade discussions; there may also be an exchange of athletes, actors, musicians and scholars. From time to time, U.S. officials will pay other visits to China, and a permanent diplomatic contact will be maintained in a neutral third country. Nixon reached the summit that he sought, in short, but the climb toward closer Sino-American relations has just begun.

* While talking to congressional leaders, Kissinger harped on the point that Chou En-lai would have a harder time selling the new policy to his conservatives than the President would to the American variety. "I wonder what Chou is saying to his right wing," mused Kissinger. Cracked Goldwater: "In other words, what is he saying to his Barry Goldwater?"

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