troops be withdrawn, that the three western sectors be made
self-governing free city with international guaranties of its
independence and access to and from West Germany. Moscow
has made it clear that, while it is prepared to discuss how
and when, it will not discuss whether the withdrawal will take
place. Furthermore, solution of the Berlin question must be
found, so Moscow says, in a plan which provides for the dem-
ilitarization of Germany, the withdrawal of foreign troops
from Germany and of both East and West Germany from
the Warsaw and NATO alliances.

The Western Allies were given six months from last No-
vember twenty-seventh to think this proposal over and to dis-
cuss it with the Russians, or to negotiate a German peace
treaty with a group of twenty-eight nations chosen by the
Russians. If no progress has been made by May twenty-
seventh, the Russians will move their troops out of Berlin and
turn over the control of all traffic, including military traffic,
between the city and West Germany to East Germans, with
whom everyone must deal in the future. Finally, a warning is
given that any violation of the frontiers of East Germany will
be regarded as aggression against all Warsaw Pact countries,
of which the Soviet Union is one, and will result in retaliation.

This is pretty strong medicine. Its strength is not diminished as the exultant East Germans point out that the proposal presages the incorporation of West Berlin into Communist East Germany.

Why, one asks, have the Russians chosen this moment to
face the West with so brutal a challenge? What's it all about?
Do they mean what they say?

As for the moment, have they chosen so badly? We are in
the last two years of an administration under Constitutional
sentence of death. Nor is the Constitution the only cause of its
failing health and vigor. The British may be in the throes of a
general election as the critical month of May approaches.
The new French Republic still suffers from the inherited mal-
ady of Algeria. Italy has not the parliamentary basis for a
strong and stable government. In Germany the great chan-
cellor is passing the mid-eighties. And so the political

more. Berlin, the greatest manufacturing city of all Germany,
still thought of as the capital city, standing as a flaunting re-
nder to the East Germans of their ill lot as citizens of a
Russian satellite, offering to the best and most skilled East
Germans an avenue of escape to a new life in Western Ger-
many and beyond—it would mean much to Khrushchev to
control all this. When Khrushchev called Berlin a "cancerous
tumor" and said that it must be cut out, it is certainly pos-
sible—indeed, I believe that it is very probable—that he
meant precisely what he said.

But it would mean even more to force the Americans out
of Europe, to have no force in Europe or the Middle East or
Africa which could oppose his will. Berlin, he could hope—
and, perhaps, expect—might open the way to the final isola-
tion of the United States in North America, not daring to use
its thermonuclear weapons unless attacked. And Khrushchev
would have no need to attack a North America impotent else-
where. For if Khrushchev could split the western alliance over
Berlin and force the Allies ignominiously to withdraw, aban-
doning the 2,500,000 citizens of West Berlin whom we had
sworn to defend, Germany and all Europe would know that
Khrushchev was master of Europe. And we Americans
would have shown that we, too, knew that Khrushchev was
master.

These are the stakes. Do the Russians really mean that
they are playing for them? I see no reason to doubt that they
do, though many in Washington and London, for reasons
which they cannot make clear, persist in doubting. Since all
sound policy calculations ought to include the possibility that
the other view could be right, they should also consider the
consequences. What would happen if the Russians did with-
draw their troops and turn over all traffic control to the East
Germans, who already control civilian traffic? First, do we
deal with the East German officials?

This is purely a maneuvering point on which Allied agree-
ment is important. If trouble is coming, we had all best be
agreed that none of us would hasten it by ill-considered stiff-
ness of attitude. But whatever we
(Continued on Page 85)

86

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

To rely upon passive resistance to blockade, trying to stick it through and hoping for the best, would seem in all probability to result in the capitulation of the city within measurable time on terms not far from those now laid down by the Russians. Berlin would become a Communist city. Resistance by its citizens after the Allied troops had gone would be suppressed, as in East Berlin and in Hungary. Such a patent and spiritless submission by NATO to Russian power could conceivably lead to a united effort among the Allies to breathe new life and strength into it as the sole means of resisting further demands. On the other hand, and perhaps more probably, it could lead to the collapse of NATO and the withdrawal of American forces from Europe, leaving no effective obstacle to Russian will on the continent.

The only visible alternative is to use western conventional power to remove obstacles to traffic to and from Berlin, both on land and in the air. This course presents grave dangers, but also possibilities. The dangers are very real. If the Soviet Union wished to employ enough of its conventional force, it could prevent an opening of traffic with Berlin. To respond to the superior Russian power with a nuclear strategic attack would be as unwise as to initiate one at the outset—even more unwise since any possibility of surprise would be gone. And the Soviet Union might be able not only to stop the forcing of traffic through to Berlin but also to occupy some or all of West Germany.

Moreover, if this third alternative is to have a real chance of success, the Soviets must be convinced that we are genuinely determined to keep traffic to Berlin open, at whatever risk, rather than abandon the people of Berlin and permit the whole western position to crumble. To that end, there is much to be done between now and the end of May and little sign of its being done—a real concerting of plans with our allies, a building up of NATO power in Europe, an increase in American troop strength and a return of British and French divisions to the continent, possibly Turkish and Italian reinforcements, and a strengthening of NATO's tactical air force. At home the unwise demobilization of our army strength since Korea should be reversed and a crash ICBM program put into immediate effect. All of this is of

opponent. All of this the Kremlin must weigh in the scales. The stakes are high; so are the risks. Judged on past performance, Soviet leadership has not been reckless.

So we begin to see that, as in all crucial decisions, the choice lies between alternatives neither of which holds out clear promise of success and both of which bristle with danger. To choose a passive resistance to a blockade offers little hope of raising it or of saving Berlin. It also runs grave risk of ending NATO and leaving Europe, and probably the Middle East and North Africa, under Russian hegemony. On the other hand, to move vigorously to prepare as substantial a force as possible to keep communication with Berlin open and to be united in the determination to use it, if necessary, has one advantage. It might prevent a blockade or end one. It is also true that it might fail to do either; and it might precipitate a nuclear strategic exchange.

Is it likely to do the latter? As already suggested, insofar as conduct in Moscow will, when the time comes, be guided by reason, the chances are against all-out nuclear war. But this conclusion is only tenable if Moscow should believe from the extent of the preparations made and from the posture of NATO—and I do not mean from speeches and communiqués—that both the will and quite considerable capacity existed to keep routes open. The Kremlin would be acting with unaccustomed recklessness if it responded to an attempt to open a route to Berlin by a nuclear attack on the United States.

It would be only a little less reckless to throw large Soviet conventional forces into a great battle in Germany. If this, however, should be done, the chances of intercontinental nuclear war begin to in-

crease, for reasons already given. And if Soviet strategists were determined to push through to an invasion of Western Europe, as a measure of retaliation, it is difficult to believe that they would do so without trying to eliminate the Strategic Air Command by nuclear strikes. All of this, as already stated, seems to involve a willingness on the part of the Kremlin to assume risks to expand its power which would not be characteristic. But it is possible.

One further contingency must be examined. It is the possibility that a military effort to keep the routes to Berlin open—prepared as well as possible and executed as well as possible—may fail without a nuclear strike by either side. Such a situation would show wisdom and restraint by both sides, but one should not rely on its probability. However, would the West be better off, or worse off, than if it had adopted a purely passive resistance and arrived at the same result? The arguments that it would then be in a better position seem the stronger.

For suppose that there is a battle for Berlin, and the battle is won by the Communists, without global nuclear war. Then, at least, the bitter experience of defeat would have driven home a lesson and might well have inspired the will to act upon that lesson. For there would then be only one course left open to the western alliance, which would have to be pursued with the utmost urgency, in the interests of simple survival.

Politically this would be the unification of Western Europe under the leadership of France and Germany and the closest political and military attachments with the United Kingdom and North America. It would call also for the immediate stepping up of military preparations, with a

view to developing a conventional defense in Europe strong enough in modern nonnuclear weapons—and possibly strategic nuclear ones—to be secure against any threats or force exceptionally a scale certain to precipitate nuclear exchange. And finally, it would require an organization for economic expansion and development in the free world which no Communist system could rival.

Only this could turn an unparalleled disaster and hazard into an asset, as was done in both 1947 and 1949, and with the same stimulus.

Does this analysis depict a progression of events in which the world is moving inevitably to disaster either by the disappearance of the free part of the world or by mutual destruction? I do not think so. At every step in the analysis we see that Khrushchev has the advantage of being able to turn back from the use of force at any time, without loss of prestige and, perhaps, with gain of it. The West, which has the task of holding—not expanding—its position, does not have this freedom. Its policy, therefore, must be to give Khrushchev positive as well as negative inclination to peaceful adjustments. This is not likely to be found in a "solution" of the "Berlin question" or of the "German question," but might come through discussion of all sorts of matters and negotiations upon those where agreement might offer not one-sided but mutual benefit. The difficulty in the way of a solution of the Berlin question or of the German question, as the Russians use these terms, is that to them the solution of the former is a surrender of Berlin and of the latter, a defenseless Germany. Either or both mean the withdrawal of the United States from Europe.

However, in related fields interests on each side of the Iron Curtain may be served. The discussions on the stopping of nuclear tests and prevention of surprise attack could, if the Kremlin really wants mutually fair agreements, be pushed to conclusions. A European zone free of nuclear weapons might be quite possible if all parties involved would reconsider their military strategy from a fresh and wholly modern point of view.

But none of these avenues will lead to possible agreement if the Russians attempt to use them to break the West European-

there is much to be done between now and the end of May and little sign of its being done—real concerting of plans with our allies, a building up of NATO power in Europe, an increase in American troop strength and a return of British and French divisions to the continent, possibly Turkish and Italian reinforcements, and a strengthening of NATO's tactical air force. At home the unwise demobilization of our army strength since Korea should be reversed and a crash ICBM program put into immediate effect. All of this is of the greatest importance, but it does not decide—though it helps in the decision—what to do if Berlin is again blockaded.

Suppose these things are done. Let us then consider the matter of enforcing a blockade from the Soviet view. For it presents problems for them too. If NATO should assemble a substantial force, as has been suggested, and be prepared to fight for the route to Berlin, what are the possible costs of fighting to the Kremlin? These the Russian leaders would have to consider carefully, since quiet and undisclosed preparation by the West would have disclosed the will to resist.

The costs could be considerable. Khrushchev has threatened to use the forces of the Warsaw Pact countries. But these countries are none too reliable. Fighting over Berlin might lead to explosions in East Germany, Poland, Hungary and, possibly, in Czechoslovakia. The Russian rear could be in turmoil overnight. Then, too, while no sensible man on either side would advise the use of nuclear weapons, strategic or tactical, no one can be sure what might happen as tensions rose with actual fighting. Especially unpredictable would be the course of events if Russian troops attempted to occupy West Germany. Either side could believe that such an extremity would lead the other to seek the advantage of the first nuclear blow and, hence, to anticipate its

"He thinks girls are a dime a dozen—
wait till my lawyer quotes him my price!"

THE SATURDAY EVENING POST

But none of these avenues will lead to possible agreement if the Russians attempt to use them to break the West European-North American connection. That is vital, absolutely vital, to the whole future of civilization. And that is precisely what is at stake in Berlin, if Khrushchev means what he says. Perhaps he does not. Perhaps the official optimists may be correct, and Khrushchev's threat to Berlin will turn out to have been only a tactical bargaining move. But it is a fearful chance to take.

Wiser men would remember that "the mode by which the inevitable comes to pass is effort." They would know that the best way of bringing about the outcome is to convince Mr. Khrushchev, by quiet action rather than loud words, that we and our allies are genuinely determined to maintain our right of access to Berlin—on the ground as well as in the air. To do so will involve great risks and mortal dangers. But we have taken risks and faced dangers before in our history, and we have survived them and even profited from them. To fail to face the dangers now will vastly increase the risk of disaster in the end.

Never has there been greater need to follow Spartan practice as one of her kings described it: "In practice we always base our preparations against an enemy on the assumption that his plans are good; indeed, it is right to rest our hopes not on a belief in his blunders, but on the soundness of our provisions."

THE END

556 RIDING THE STORM

effective judgement. Matsu and Quemoy were merely incidents in an extension of the Chinese civil war. Meanwhile the Chinese had hinted to the Indians (presumably for transmission) that if there were an agreement over the islands they would forget about Formosa for a while. This, coupled with the revival of the Warsaw talks, seemed to give some hope of a temporary solution without too much loss of face, oriental or occidental. This, in fact, was what happened. The dispute was never settled. It just began to fizzle out, like the last cracker in a fine display of fireworks.

On 6 October Marshal Peng Teh-huai blandly announced that the bombardment of Quemoy would be suspended for a week. The Nationalists would be able to bring in any supplies they wished provided these were not accompanied by American escort vessels. This strange truce actually continued unbroken for a fortnight. Then on 20 October the bombardment was resumed, the Marshal alleging that American escorts had come to the island. But five days later, since there seemed some uncertainty about the intervention of American ships, the Marshal reached a solution which even the British gift of compromise could hardly have bettered. He declared on 25 October that the bombardment (like parking on one side of the street) would only take place on the odd days of the month. This curious state of affairs continued to the end of the year. Then a conflagration which had burned so fiercely and so threateningly in the summer and autumn of 1958, after flickering on for six months, was finally extinguished. By the end of March 1959 all was quiet in the Formosa straits.

When I was visiting Washington about that time I made the following note.

Americans do not see any signs of the Chinese starting up anything very drastic against the off-shore islands. But they confessed that they had completely failed in persuading Chiang to evacuate them or even to reduce the garrisons substantially.¹

So ended, at least so far as I was concerned, this strange episode. I am still wondering just what is the moral to be drawn.

¹ 22 March 1959.

Harold MacMillan; *Riding the Storm 1956-59*, Harper & Row, copyright 1971 by Thomson Newspapers Limited; Index copyright 1971 by Macmillan & Co., Ltd.

## CHAPTER XVIII

# A Voyage of Discovery

IN spite of, or perhaps because of, my preoccupations with the dangers which might arise from the tense situation both in the Middle East and the Far East, my mind, in August 1958, began to turn once more to the prospects of some relaxation between the formidable groupings of powers now ranged round Russia and America and facing each other, in every part of the world, with growing antagonism.

I arrived back on 12 August from an apparently fruitless visit to Athens, Ankara and Cyprus. I was consoled to find the situation at home, in spite of all our difficulties, by no means discouraging. The Press had been consistently friendly during my absence. A few days later there was published

a Gallup Poll which was very favourable to the Conservatives and to the Prime Minister. On this showing, we could win an election now. Therefore everyone is speculating about the likelihood of an Autumn election.

These polls are encouraging when they are good, and we tend to regard them as of little value when they are bad. The truth is that the great British—and especially London and English—democracy is very fickle.¹

A day or two after my return I read an illuminating despatch from Sir Patrick Reilly, our Ambassador in Moscow, which led me to pose a number of enquiries. The first was about Khrushchev's own character. His sudden rise to supreme power was a fact of vast significance. But how should it be interpreted? I wrote to Reilly on 13 August:

> You are, I am sure, right in putting your finger on the most dangerous feature about Mr. Khrushchev-megalomania. This

¹ 19 August 1958.

558

RIDING THE STORM

could not be said of the wicked men who began the revolution or guided it through its earlier years. Lenin, Stalin, etc., were pretty cold fish I should imagine; but megalomania frightens one because people who get it can do very stupid things and lead to great disasters. I wonder whether I am right in this; but I have an instinctive feeling that this is the most perilous point in the whole complex of confusion in which the world finds itself. Could Khrushchev do as foolish things as Hitler did?

The answer which history may well give to my question is that this tendency in Khrushchev's character grew with the exercise of power and found its final expression in the Cuba crisis four years later.

My second question concerned the 'emergency' Summit, which had been proposed in various forms, to deal with the problem of the Middle East:

> There is a point which interests me. Of course, your despatch was written while there was still a chance of a meeting between the Heads of Government either in New York or in Geneva. The Summit is now obscured with clouds, but I would be interested to know whether you think Khrushchev has gained or lost by his controversy with the President and me. Do they publish my replies in Russia? Am I right in trying to make my replies short and clear? Orientals are apt to think that unless you write at immense length you have nothing much to say. I would like your views on this for future use.

Turning to the immediate situation, I asked:

> Thirdly, what about the real Summit—I mean the old one we have been climbing slowly towards for so long? Ought we to take a new initiative from your point of view, and when?

My final paragraph referred to a project which I had long had in mind, and towards which I had made some hesitant and cautious advances. It was that of a personal visit to Russia. So far my colleagues had not been enthusiastic, nor were our allies likely to be any more understanding. Yet I felt unhappy at the steady deterioration and anxious to take some initiative.

It is difficult now, when visits to Moscow are almost *de rigueur* for any aspiring statesman, in or out of office, to recall the frigid

A VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY

559

atmosphere that prevailed some twelve years ago. A visit from a British Prime Minister at a period when Britain's power in the world was still formidable and her prestige following the Second War still undiminished would be no mere conventional courtesy, but rather a startling and almost sensational event. I therefore put frankly to the Ambassador, an old friend and colleague from Algiers days, the vital issue:

> The last and most important thing is the question of returning the Khrushchev-Bulganin visit. If the negotiations for the Summit fail altogether and nothing happens, I have it in mind to suggest a visit on my own in the course of the spring. What would you think about this? Would they regard it as just a climb-down or not?

To my first three questions the Ambassador, as I would have expected, sent replies admirably composed and argued. The fourth was not to become a matter for detailed discussion and decision until the beginning of the following year. Meanwhile there was at least some improvement in the commercial if not in the political sphere. On 14 August Britain, together with most other NATO countries, announced major relaxations of trade both with the Soviet bloc and with Communist China. The extensive list of prohibited raw materials and manufactured goods which had hitherto proved a serious obstacle to commerce was substantially modified. Only a few items remained, and those could really be defended on technical grounds as of vital military importance. The United States announced at the same time parallel reductions so far as the Soviet bloc countries were concerned. They maintained, however, a complete embargo on American trade with China, North Korea and North Vietnam. On 16 August:

> the Foreign Secretary has sent a telegram from New York to say that Foster Dulles now has in mind that we should abandon nuclear tests, pending a workable agreement on inspection. The question is now complicated by the French claims. I sent a holding reply and we will have to send something fuller tomorrow.¹

A subsequent message, however, showed that Dulles, in the course of a private dinner with Selwyn Lloyd, was merely thinking

¹ 16 August 1958.