(2) Some of the most ardent advocates of Britain's entry into the Common Market are also dedicated proponents of a federal Europe, which is as unacceptable in London as in Paris. Thus opponents of European integration have often combined forces with dedicated advocates of it to advance sweeping schemes certain to be vetoed by the French President.

This confusion has been magnified by the role of the United States. Our strong support of supranational, federal institutions has contributed to the stalemate in European discussions. While not sufficient to bring about our preferred solution, our influence is strong enough to block approaches with which we disagree. Moreover, despite our ardent support for European unity, our impact has often been the contrary of what was intended. While affirming the need for European integration, we have unintentionally tended to undermine a European sense of identity.

During the long period of American predominance, a group of experts comfortable with the existing relationship has grown up on both sides of the Atlantic. Having worked well together for many years, they tend to see problems from the same perspective. Though they generally favor European integration, they consider the quest for European autonomy inherently divisive. According to them, if United States policy is wise, European autonomy will be unnecessary. If United States policy is mistaken, an independent European policy would only magnify the problem. Thus, both in Europe and the United States, many who urge European integration balk at the prospect of an autonomous European policy—which is one of the likely results of European integration.

This attitude is particularly noticeable in the field of defense. Were Europe thrown on itself, it would probably unite sufficiently to assure its security. It clearly has the potential to do so. But, having been sheltered by American power for nearly two decades, many Europeans are concerned that the emergence of an autonomous Europe in the area of defense will undermine the American guarantee and force them into assuming direct responsibilities. American pronouncements sometimes encourage this concern. The threat to withdraw American forces has been used to obtain European support for American strategic preferences. Proposals such as the MLF have the practical consequence of preventing the emergence of a European point of view on nuclear matters. These American attitudes have inhibited a European quest for autonomy; they have also caused some advocates of European identity in the defense field to give their case an anti-American cast.

These tendencies are reinforced by the fact that some Europeans prefer an Atlantic structure based on the existing NATO states to a united Europe. The smaller countries in particular fear that European integration will result in the hegemony of powerful neighbors. They see no advantage in European autonomy. Since they must follow the lead of a

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dominant country in any event, they prefer the hegemony of an ally 3,000 miles away and with a tradition of using its power with restraint. Consequently, these countries are a ready-made constituency for schemes to perpetuate the relationship between Europe and the United States that developed after the war.

In short, American policy has been extremely ambivalent: it has urged European unity while recoiling before its probable consequences. We have sought to combine a supra-national Europe with a closely integrated Atlantic Community under American leadership. These objectives are likely to prove incompatible. Indeed, the United States will have to reconcile itself to the fact that no matter what structure emerges in Europe, a difference in perspective with the United States is probable, particularly about policies outside of Europe. A wise policy will try to mitigate the impact of this difference; it will not be able to remove it.

This latent difference could well be accentuated by the manner in which European unity is achieved. History teaches that the more abrupt the political transitions, the more drastic have to be the efforts to reestablish some sort of cohesion. A Europe that grows out of the collapse of all traditional loyalties must have as its primary problem the discovery of some specific purpose for its existence. Too doctrinaire an approach to European unity could produce either a collapse of political will or, more likely, a new and virulent form of nationalism, perhaps even more intense than the nationalism of *patries*. A Europe constructed largely on theoretical models might be forced into an anti-American mold because its only sense of identity could be what distinguished it from America.

It is hard to understand why many European federalists believe that a European parliament would mitigate this danger. The decline in the role of the European national parliaments has been apparent for decades. In no European country—not even Great Britain—does parliament exercise an effective control over the formulation or the conduct of foreign policy. Party discipline has become so pervasive that in European parliaments the majority almost always ratifies the decisions of the cabinet. And where the party system is ineffective—either because the parties are weak or because there are too many of them—the result is paralysis of government rather than parliamentary control.

These conditions are likely to be magnified by all-European elections. The need to establish a consensus comprising Schleswig-Holstein and Sicily, Scotland and Bavaria will surely tempt demagogic appeals. A parliament emerging from such a process of direct elections may be completely unrelated to the calm deliberative body envisaged by so many European federalists.

This suggests the need to reexamine American priorities. The mechanical notion that one particular form of European integration automatically will solve the problem of Atlantic partnership should be abandoned. The United States should leave the internal evolution of a united Europe to the Europeans and use its ingenuity and influence in devising new forms of Atlantic cooperation. The passionate commitment of so many American policymakers to a single formula of European integration, that of supranationality, confuses form

leave the internal evolution of a united Europe to the Europeans and use its ingenuity and influence in devising new forms of Atlantic cooperation. The passionate commitment of so many American policymakers to a single formula of European integration, that of supranationality, confuses form and substance. It could in fact bring about results quite contrary to those intended. Many European federalists have been devoted adherents of Atlantic partnership: Jean Monnet, their most significant figure, has been a staunch and remarkable friend of the United States. By contrast, President de Gaulle's career is filled with examples of abrupt and unilateral tactics designed to exalt the status of France, occasionally at our expense. It would be one of history's frequent ironies if the structure for Europe proposed by Monnet would generate the greatest pressures for the kind of policy generally described as Gaullist, while the structure advocated by De Gaulle turned out to be best suited for flexible Atlantic arrangements. Our bent for structural remedies sometimes blinds us to the fact that institutions produce their own momentum, which cannot necessarily be foreseen from the intentions of their founders.

While the United States should welcome any unified Europe that reflects the desires of Europeans, it is doubtful that either our national or Atlantic interests require our passionate commitment to a supranational structure for Europe. A very schematic and rigid conception of Atlantic partnership can easily fail to do justice to the richness and variety of relationships possible within the Atlantic context. Is each European country always inherently closer to its European neighbors than to the United States? If we separate the question into political, military or economic components, is the answer always uniform and does it always point in the same direction? Would it not be wiser to retain some flexibility?

There may be various roads to European unity. The one traced by the Fouchet Plan—calling for institutionalized meetings of foreign ministers and subcabinet officials—is not the least plausible, and indeed it is the one most consistent with British participation. It has the advantage that it would produce some immediate progress without foreclosing the future and thus would put an end to the process of demanding the desirable in order to defeat the attainable. It would also permit a more flexible arrangement of Atlantic relations than the “twin pillar” concept now in vogue. A confederal Europe would enable the United States to maintain an influence at many centers of decision rather than be forced to stake everything on affecting the views of a single, supranational body.

Every European state was formed through some process of integration during the past four centuries, and Germany and Italy achieved unity less than 100 years ago. European history suggests that there is more than one way to build unity. In Italy, it came by way of plebiscite and annexation abolishing the individual states. In Germany, unification occurred under the aegis of one state but as the act of sovereign governments which remained in existence after unity was

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In order to give this Executive Committee appropriate status, membership should be no lower than Deputy Foreign Ministers meeting at least bi-monthly. In the interval between meetings, the NATO ambassadors could act as deputies.

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achieved. The resulting structure clearly did not lack cohesiveness. History is rarely so linear and simple a process as some of the enthusiasts for a particular form of European integration suggest.

European history demonstrates also that stability in Europe is unattainable except through the cooperation of Britain, France and Germany. Care should be taken not to resurrect old national rivalries in the name of Atlanticism. The United States should not single out one ally as its special partner. The attempt to force allies to choose between us and France—a tendency which, despite all disavowals, is real—must magnify the European nationalism that French policy has already done so much to foster.

Our concern thus returns to the somewhat out-of-scale figure of President de Gaulle. Conceivably he is as petty and as animated by remembered slights as some of our commentators suggest. It is also possible that a man so conscious of his historic role has larger purposes. In a period of detente with the Soviet Union, it should not be impossible to conduct a serious conversation with a traditional ally. President de Gaulle has repeatedly expressed his willingness to coordinate strategy rather than to integrate it. It is a welcome sign of progress that, at the NATO meeting of December 1964, Secretary McNamara and French Defense Minister Messmer agreed on a procedure to begin exploring what this means with respect to strategic nuclear forces.

But a more fundamental dialogue is needed. Irritation with De Gaulle's tactics does not change the fact that in his proposal of 1958 for a Directorate he pointed out what has remained the key problem of NATO: If the Atlantic Alliance is to retain any vitality, it requires a common foreign policy—or at least an agreed range of divergence. In its absence, the attempt to devise a common military strategy is likely to prove futile. As long as the Alliance cannot agree even on a common trade policy toward the East, it will be impossible to convince the Allies to relinquish their freedom of action over decisions affecting their very survival. Lord Avon and Dean Acheson have come to the same conclusion. The time seems ripe to create a political body at the highest level for concerting the policies of the nations bordering the North Atlantic.

Organizational devices should never be confused with substantive solutions. Nevertheless the following outline could serve as an illustration of a desirable direction if not as a detailed blueprint for action. The political body could be constituted as an Executive Committee of the NATO Council. It could be composed of six members: five permanent members (the United States, Great Britain, France, the Federal Republic and Italy) and one rotating member representing the smaller NATO countries. The rotating member could be elected by a vote of the NATO Council from which the permanent members are excluded, thus protecting the rights of the smaller countries. The Allies would agree to accept a two-thirds vote as binding with escape clauses to be described.

The Executive Committee should formulate common Atlantic purposes and define the limits of autonomous action where interests diverge. It should give political guidance for

accept a two-thirds vote as binding with escape clause to be described.

V5

The Executive Committee should formulate common Atlantic purposes and define the limits of autonomous action where interests diverge. It should give political guidance for the military arrangements described in the previous chapters. It should be the political authority for the proposed Allied Nuclear Force. It should be charged with developing a common strategic doctrine.

As long as the Alliance is composed of sovereign states, the delegation of authority will clearly have to be limited. Each Ally, whether or not a member of the Executive Committee, would have to be given the right to appeal its decisions to the NATO Council, where a two-thirds majority would carry. Each Ally should have the right, for an interim period at least, to refuse to be bound by such a vote. However, it should be required to make a formal declaration to that effect within a given time. A negative vote either in the Executive Committee or in the NATO Council would not be taken as an indication of non-compliance. Instead, a formal notification that a country refuses to carry out the common decision would be required. The purpose of separating the two stages would be to enable the Allies to record their disagreement and yet to carry out the majority's decision for the sake of unity.

Within this framework, the European countries could, if they wished, form a closer association. For example, the Western European Union might well be given responsibility for the European component of the Allied Nuclear Force and, indeed, the European contribution to joint NATO plans. As Europe gains structure, the Executive Committee could draw nearer to the "twin pillars" concept. But Atlantic partnership, in this approach, could become operative even if European unity were delayed. Atlantic partnership and increased European cohesion thus could be pursued simultaneously, with no advance commitment to giving priority to either course. An Atlantic Community could thus develop on a two-pronged basis.

Conceivably such a policy could end the sterile debate over the relative benefits of integration and coordination. It might heal a rift that, if continued, is bound to hazard everything that has been painfully built up over fifteen years. It would leave the internal evolution of Europe to the European countries and concentrate our efforts where we can be most constructive: in the elaboration of Atlantic relationships.

This requires that we become clear about the notion of Europe as a Third Force which is used so often in a pejorative sense in our discussions. In the sense of being powerful Europe is bound to be a Third Force, partly because we ourselves have made it so. Whether Europe will use its strength for a narrow or a wider conception depends in large part on the ability of leaders on both sides of the Atlantic to develop common purposes and a structure to give them effect. We can best counteract Third Force tendencies based on a form of neutrality by conducting ourselves so that most of our Allies will always consider the advantages of an At-

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lantic partnership greater than those which could be gained
by a more parochial approach.

For this purpose steadiness and reliability are more im-
portant assets than an erratic quest for ever-more refined
formulae. Confidence presupposes that the leaders of other
countries can gear their actions to ours over a period of time.
The United States should use its ingenuity to forge a variety
of Atlantic institutions not only in the political realm but also
in the spheres of economics, scholarship and the arts.

But institutions based on present concepts of national
sovereignty are not enough. The West requires a larger goal:
the constitution of an Atlantic Commonwealth in which all
the peoples bordering the North Atlantic can fulfill their aspi-
rations. Clearly, it will not come quickly; many intermediate
stages must be traversed before it can be reached. It is not too
early, however, to prepare ourselves now for this step beyond
the nation-state.

A FINAL WORD

When the Atlantic Alliance was founded in 1949, no one
would have thought it possible that within fifteen years its
pervasive problem would turn out to be the growing strength
and self-confidence of Europe. In the face of what was be-
lieved to be the imminent threat of Soviet aggression, it
would have seemed absurd to predict that fissures would
open because the fear of Communist invasion had largely
vanished. When Europe dreaded the return of America's
traditional isolationism, it would have been incredible that
some day our Allies would feel so confident of our support
that they would consider it safe to disagree with our policies
or even to oppose them.

In a way, then, many of the difficulties in the Atlantic
Alliance could be a source of pride for the United States.
They are the result of the success of policies ushered in by the
Marshall Plan and consistently pursued through four postwar
administrations. The West today is less imperiled by outside
pressures than by a tendency to consume its own substance.

Yet it is easy to draw too much comfort from this. History
is the tale of civilizations that sought their future in their
past. There are no plateaus in international affairs; what is
not a stepping stone soon becomes the beginning of a decline.
Succeeding generations will not be able to draw comfort
from the fact that an unmet challenge was produced by great
achievement.

In the life of societies and international systems there
comes a time when the question arises whether all the possi-
bilities of innovation inherent in a given structure have been
exhausted. At this point, symptoms are taken for causes; im-
mediate problems absorb the attention that should be de-
voted to determining their significance. Events are not
shaped by a concept of the future; the present becomes all-
intrusive. However impressive such a structure may still ap-
pear to outsiders, it has passed its zenith. It will grow ever
more rigid and, in time, irrelevant.

The West today confronts such a challenge. It has had
centuries of great achievements punctuated by catastrophic

The West today confronts such a challenge. It has had
centuries of great achievements punctuated by catastrophic
upheaval. Its propensity for disaster has been high; but here-
tofore each tragedy was followed by a new burst of creativity.
Are the stresses of today a sign of consolidation or the first
symptoms of decay? Will they lead to renewal or to disinte-
gration?

For a while longer the West can continue along familiar
routes. The traditional machinery of the Atlantic Alliance is
well designed to produce the appearance of amity. But if the
Alliance continues to confuse form and substance, energy
will increasingly have to be spent in reconciling illusion with
reality. Each nation will be thrown on its own resources and
will emphasize policies that magnify divisions. At each previ-
ous critical juncture the West—though with much travail—
found political forms adequate for its needs. It made the
transition from feudalism to the nation-state. Its challenge
now is whether it can move from the nation-state to a larger
community and draw from this effort the strength for another
period of innovation.

Its ability to master this problem will largely determine
whether the West can remain relevant to the rest of the world.
Confronted by turmoil and hatred in the former colonial
areas, the West desperately searches for means to demonstrate
its good faith to its erstwhile subjects. But every satisfied de-
mand spawns new pressures. The inward insecurity produced
by centuries of subordination is not allayed by dealing with
its manifestations any more than a tidal wave is understood
by studying the surface of the ocean. In many of the new
nations, popularity is unattainable partly because of the
memory of colonial rule, partly because these nations often
do not know what they really want. Their greatest need is a
sense of purpose. But this can be conveyed only by example,
not by preachments or by efforts to ingratiate that compound
the new nations' sense of insecurity with our own.

What the West can mean to others depends therefore in
great part on what it means to itself. In the heyday of coloni-
alism, Western political forms were widely imitated. The
leaders of independence movements fought their oppressors
in the name of principles they had acquired from them. The
reason was that for all the wrongs it committed, the West
appeared dynamic, creative and vital. If the West is still to
contribute to the rest of the world, it will have to begin by
demonstrating in its internal relationships that its well-
springs of creativity have not run dry.

The opportunity is great. The dynamic periods of West-
ern history occurred when unity was forged from diversity.
This is the task once again. The struggles for prestige and
influence can be salutary if at some point they lead to a
heightened sense of community. Conversely, fifty years from
now no one will care who was "right" with respect to the
issues that form the headlines of the day if in the process the
West has torn itself to pieces.