Monday, Jan. 10, 1955

Reluctant Yes

Outside, newspaper headlines proclaimed the moment decisif. Long lines of Communist demonstrators stood stolidly in the fog and rain, and in distant capitals, statesmen kept anxious watch. Inside the Palais Bourbon, Premier Pierre Mendes-France wrestled grimly with the French Assembly, trying to drag France back into the ranks of the Atlantic Alliance from which these same Deputies had all but resigned the week before.

The Deputies seemed somewhat sobered by the world's reaction to their 280-259 rejection of German admission to the Western European Union. The moderates, a 115-man group of splinter-party Deputies, met and decided to "dose" the vote: shifting some abstentions to yes and some negative votes to abstention. Carefully, they picked the men to switch--no Deputy wanted to be the only one in his area to vote for German arms. The Catholics of the M.R.P. had already heard from their Christian Democrat colleagues in Germany and Italy (Amintore Fanfani, boss of the Italian Christian Democrats, made a missionary trip to Paris). In their caucus, "good European" Robert Schuman announced that he intended to vote yes, and was greeted by jeers from the unforgiving followers of Georges Bidault.

Spoilers at Work. With only a normal amount of querulous debate, Mendes won, 289 to 251, his first vote of confidence --German admission to NATO. Nine MRPers joined Schuman in voting for approval. Briskly, Mendes proposed an immediate vote on the second question of confidence--reversal of last week's vote on an armed Germany in the Western European Union.

Instantly, the Assembly's spoilers reacted. They argued that the WEU bill had been amended since last week and that a new bill had to be drafted. The Foreign Affairs Committee rejected Mendes' draft. He drafted another version, carrying an amendment by Gaullist Leon Noel, onetime ambassador to Poland, to create a watchdog committee on German rearmament. That made it a new bill, the spoilers declared, and it must have a new vote of confidence, which requires 24 hours delay. Wearily, Mendes had to yield.

Next day, Noel blandly withdrew his amendment. It had lost its "utility," he explained. Socialist Chief Guy Mollet tried to bring the Deputies to a sense of reality with the most forceful speech of the twelve-day debate--and the first with high praise for the U.S.'s role. "Why is the question of German rearmament posed?" asked Mollet. "It's because of the policy conducted by the Soviet Union which menaces the peace of the world, and denies liberty to millions of men." Only the presence of U.S. troops in Europe could prevent a war, and only ratification of the Paris accords could assure the U.S.

presence. "We must avoid the errors of the past. If there had been a single U.S.

division in Europe in 1914 and 1938, neither Kaiser Wilhelm nor Hitler would have launched the catastrophes we have known." But the deputies had hit upon a new dodge. Since they had approved German membership in NATO "to satisfy our allies," why couldn't they safely reject German rearmament and admission to WEU? Snapped Mendes: "This is a package deal, and there is no possibility of escaping from it." To the M.R.P. Mendes insisted: "There is no alternative solution, and it is no longer possible to proceed with new meetings. Our allies are not willing." Old Edouard Herriot quavered a plea for "some more time for reflection." Said Mendes: "We've had four years. We can't abuse the patience of our allies." As he had all through the debate, Mendes argued not that the Germans had to be armed for France's safety, but that rearming the Germans would make negotiations with Russia more useful. Said Mendes: "If we reject the agreements . . . we shall be isolated from our allies.

You may have a two-power or three-power conference, but France will not be there; we shall not be invited, because we will practically have left the Atlantic Alliance." By midnight, the Assembly was talked out. But the spoilers were not through.

Since Noel had withdrawn his amendment, they insisted, it was a new bill requiring yet another 24 hours delay.

Frantically, Mendes men paged Noel to get him to restore his amendment. Noel had gone home. A government minister telephoned him. Would he come back to the Assembly? Said Noel, who does not like Mendes-France and hates Germany: "Certainly not. I am in bed and I intend to stay here."

Confidence Accorded. But next day the Assembly's delays ran out. Facing up to the inevitable, Bidault bargained with Schuman: they agreed to cancel each other out by both abstaining. Another 16 MRPers decided to forget their bitterness against Mendes for the sake of Western unity. It was enough. From a slip of paper, the Assembly president read: "287 votes for, 260 against. Confidence is accorded."

For an instant, the Assembly sat silent. There were no cheers. Then the Communists rose on their benches and loosed a flood of abuse. "Assassins, bandits, varlets, Nazis," screamed a tiny Communist woman Deputy, shaking her fist at her Socialist neighbors. But the issue that had racked France, divided its citizens, and paralyzed its governments for four years was settled.

The majority was thin and feeble, far short of a real majority of the whole 627-man Assembly. Six ex-Premiers took refuge in abstention; every party except the Communists split. But by forcing the Assembly to a decision, Mendes had done what three predecessors had not dared do. He had not succeeded, any more than they, in obtaining the "massive majority" he had asked. But in the end, even a slim majority is still a majority: the bill which officially created the Third Republic (1870-1940) was instituted by but one vote.

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