One-Upmanship

Scarcely a day goes by that Peking and Moscow do not trade insults from Marx's Dictionary of Dirty Names. Lately the focus of their dispute has shifted to Southeast Asia, where the two Communist superpowers are racing to see which can give more gifts and win more friends. Little Laos, indeed, seems about to sink under the weight of the gifts--and the givers.

In Vientiane, the administrative capital, Russian is now heard almost as much as French, the language of the country's colonial rulers for 60 years. Soviet advisers are often seen riding side by side with Communist Pathet Lao officials, looking even bulkier than usual beside the slight Laotians.

8,000 Tons. The Soviets have agreed to rebuild Phonesavang on the Plain of Jars. Phonesavang, once considered a strategic village, was destroyed by U.S. Air Force bombing raids. Just as U.S. pilots and planes used to ferry non-Communist troops and officials to trouble spots around the country. Soviet pilots and planes now transport the Pathet Lao. The Russians currently have about 500 to 800 diplomats and technical experts in Laos, and reinforcements are arriving every month.

Not to be left behind, the Chinese, who had already pushed a road from Yunnan province into northern Laos, recently agreed to extend it 80 miles down to Luang Prabang. Both Moscow and Peking have worked out deals with Royal Dutch/Shell to give the Laotians gasoline--8,000 tons from the Russians. 7,600 from the Chinese.

The Russians have so far spent more money than the Chinese, but the game of oneupmanship, which the Chinese probably invented, may have already been won by Peking. In Luang Prabang, the capital of figurehead King Savang Vatthana, the Chinese have promised to build a new National Assembly building that will overshadow Moscow's projected gift, a giant statue of the King.

To make matters even worse for the Russians, a cost-conscious Moscow apparatchik decided that, though the Soviets would donate the statue--a duplicate already stands in a Vientiane park --the Laotians would have to transport it through the countryside to Luang Prabang. Miffed by such commissar chintziness, the Laotians have not bothered to move Luang Prabang's bronze statue out of storage in Vientiane.

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