The Cook & the Potatoes

Russia's Andrei Vishinsky had fun with the Danube last week. He swam in it, fixed Soviet trade domination over it and turned the Danube conference into a thoroughfare for Soviet propaganda. He was able to steal the show because the Western powers missed a tailor-made chance to unfold point by point Russia's responsibility for the grave economic plight of her satellites.

The U.S., Britain and France were outvoted 7-to-3 at the Belgrade conference; but they had known for months they would be and during those months could have prepared the kind of "educational" performance the Russians stage when they are in a minority. The Danubian countries, which are being sucked dry by the one-way trade treaties with Russia, might have been told eloquently and in detail that a Red-dominated Danube meant more poverty for them. They could also have been told convincingly that the U.S. wanted a Danube open to all nations which would mean more trade and fewer restrictions for the Danube nations.

Instead, the Western nations let Vishinsky steal the show. They heard him make the fantastic charge that they were trying to treat the Danubian states "as a cook treats potatoes." That was too much for icy, pink Sir Charles Peake, Britain's delegate. Stung, but not exactly hopping, Sir Charles announced that he would reply to Vishinsky the next day. When Sir Charles was ready to speak, Vishinsky cracked that he was happy to note that the British representative "after 72 hours had gathered enough strength to answer me."

Sir Charles, waving his glasses in the air and pointing them towards Vishinsky, replied with icy indignation: "I will not jump at the crack of Mr. Vishinsky's whip . . . But I have been here three days listening to Mr. Vishinsky and I wonder who at this table is the cook?"

That was the last real peep out of the Western powers. Soft-spoken U.S. Ambassador Cavendish Cannon could hardly be heard across the conference table.

He and Sir Charles left France out on a limb by accepting the Russian draft as a basis for consideration. France's chief delegate, Adrien Thierry, was so infuriated that he wouldn't speak to the Anglo-U.S. delegates after the session.

Vishinsky was clearly the cook at Belgrade--and the Western powers looked last week like very small potatoes, indeed.

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