Ed & His Friends

Beyond all doubt, Ed Stettinius knew how to run his railroad. Some of the San Francisco delegates wondered whether he knew exactly where he was going. But he got full marks for speed and efficiency; he made the rest of the U.S. delegation feel that they were in on the doings; and on occasion he even broke into warm, human rage.

The biggest testimony to his early success at the conference was a perceptible change in the kind of things people said about him. When he arrived in San Francisco, some of his own associates were asking each other how long he was going to be Secretary of State. Now the talk was that his ability to run the State Department and front for the U.S. in world affairs was no longer in serious question. What worried the new powers in Washington, said the conference grapevine, was the thought that Ed Stettinius, as Secretary of State, was next in line of succession to the Presidency.

The Companions. Stettinius made capital of his frequent telephone checks with President Truman and Cordell Hull, never failing to give them credit for advice or decisions, when doing so would strengthen the U.S. position. He relied on daily, minute "briefings" by his department experts, remembered what he was told with amazing exactitude, and did not hide the fact that he would often have been at a loss without this assistance.

Once or twice, when he was in a tight corner at committee meetings, he looked to Anthony Eden for guidance. By comparison with Eden, whetted by 19 years of disciplined British diplomacy, or with Molotov, the hardened product of ruthless revolution, Ed Stettinius seemed almost callow. But when the chips were down, he earned their respect and that of the conference.

Some of the wisest diplomats in San Francisco felt that his seeming victory in getting the shabby Argentine Government admitted to the conference (TIME, May 7) had in fact been a triumph for Molotov, Stettinius' forthright support of Argentina, said they, unnecessarily pointed up the disproportionate voting strength of the U.S.'s noisy Latin American bloc, gave Molotov a brilliantly used opportunity to pose as the conference's moral spokesman in opposing the Argentine jingoes, and generally cost the U.S. more than it gained.

But Stettinius could hardly have taken any other course. The recent trend of hemisphere policy, not to mention the pledges at the recent Mexico City conference, had committed the U.S. to a straight power game, as amoral as Russia's game in eastern Europe. In the case of Argentina the two gamesters clashed, and the U.S. won the dubious showdown. Thoroughly at home in that kind of contest, Molotov next day blandly joshed Stettinius and Eden: "You know, gentlemen, that little voting game we had yesterday may become a dangerous game. Imagine a country having at her disposal the 19 Latin American votes, plus that of the Philippines, plus that of Liberia, plus its own one. Well, that country would have all of the votes."

Anthony Eden must have smiled to himself. It was all very well for Molotov to deplore the strength of blocs--when Russia's growing bloc was not in question. The combined might of Russia and its European satellites had gravely worried the British, always sensitive to any shift in continental power. San Francisco, drawing the U.S. deeper & deeper into the world game of power, seemed also to be drawing the U.S. and Britain closer together. For the British, that was a comforting thought.

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