A QUIET LITTLE DINNER WITH KHRUSHCHEV

THE top leaders of the Labor Party had planned a quiet little dinner for B. & K. in a private dining room in the Houses of Parliament, and looked forward to the kind of pleasantly informal discussion they had had with Georgy Malenkov. They knew there would be differences, but hoped these might be cordially discussed. So they planned. But they expected too much of their No. 1 guest. Churlish Nikita Khrushchev made it a night to remember.

The chill of the British crowds had begun to get under the skin of the burly Khrushchev, and he was obviously feeling edgy. So, for different reasons, was George Brown, a tough, belligerent trade unionist who is slated to become a minister if Labor gets back into office.

After the toasts, Brown began picking on Khrushchev's studious young (22) son, seated near by. "You don't always agree with your father on everything, do you?" Brown demanded. Young Khrushchev replied that he did. "I have a daughter about your age in the university," bellowed Brown. "She disagrees with me all the time. That's the difference between your country and ours."

Khrushchev noticed something going on, asked the interpreter to tell him what Brown had said to his son. When he understood, Khrushchev flushed and said: "Interference in family affairs is even worse than interference in another country's internal affairs." Abruptly, the pleasant little dinner became taut with strain.

Menacing Pause. Bulganin tried to retrieve the situation with an urbane, jolly-fellow speech regretting that they had not seen all they wanted because he and Khrushchev were "slaves of protocol." But when Bulganin sat down, Khrushchev lumbered to his feet and, flushed with anger and alcohol, launched into an hour's tirade.

He accused Britain and France of turning Hitler eastward against Russia, of betraying Russia at Munich--leaving the Soviet Union no choice but to conclude the Hitler-Stalin pact in self-defense. As he blustered on into a discussion of World War II which depicted Russia as beating Germany singlehanded, the irrepressible Brown muttered: "God forgive you!" Khrushchev stopped abruptly.

"What did you say?" he demanded. There was a menacing pause. Khrushchev roared: "Don't be afraid. Say it again!" Brown blurted: "God forgive you." Khrushchev and Brown broke into an angry exchange. Khrushchev reiterated his story of how the war was won; Brown retorted as angrily that thousands of British men were killed in the period when Russia and Hitler were allies.

Khrushchev plunged on, ignoring the traditional cry from a policeman in the corridors ("Who goes home?") announcing that the House of Commons had adjourned for the night. Khrushchev sneered at NATO; he threatened to deal with West Germany alone if the West persisted in rearming it; he brushed aside Eisenhower's proposed aerial inspection plan as "a fantasy," and added: "We don't want people walking into our bedroom."

Who's an Enemy? When Khrushchev finally subsided, Labor Leader Hugh Gaitskell rose to reply. He was pale and his voice trembled with indignation. Nobody expected such a mendacious and false account of history to be given on such an occasion as this, he said, but added bitingly that he saw no need to start a controversy, since all authoritative historians on earth, "with the exception of Mr. Khrushchev and his colleagues," were of a different opinion.

Then, though the atmosphere was tense, Gaitskell plunged ahead. He raised the question of anti-Semitism in the Soviet Union. He asked Khrushchev to consider the release of Social Democrats imprisoned in Eastern Europe, and proffered a list of 150 names furnished by U.S. union leaders.

Brusquely, Khrushchev refused even to lay his hand on the document. Furthermore, he snapped, it was "nonsense" to talk of anti-Semitism in Russia, and there were no Social Democrats in Russia. How the Eastern European countries handled Social Democrats was none of his business. "Why should we care what happens to enemies of the working class?" he demanded truculently.

Up jumped Aneurin Bevan--Nye, the fiery Welsh rebel whose basic anti-Communism is too often obscured by his demagogic anti-Americanism. Shaking a finger at Khrushchev, ruddy-faced Nye answered: "Your view of who is an enemy of the working classes is not our view. Conduct an inquiry into this matter, or, better still, let them all come to England, where we are quite willing to receive them."

Said Khrushchev: "We are Communists. Don't ask us to give up our principles." Said Nye: "Don't try to bully me!"

Throughout, Bulganin sat silent. At midnight the dinner broke up, in an atmosphere of sullen ill-feeling. When someone proposed a toast to "our next meeting," Khrushchev gave him a cold stare. Later, he growled: "It is far more difficult to discuss things with you Labor leaders than with the Conservative government of this country."

Second Thoughts. Next day, Khrushchev was still as surly as a Siberian bear. He muttered that if this was British Socialism, he preferred to be a Tory. At a lunch given by the Speaker of the House of Commons, Khrushchev interrupted another of Bulganin's speeches to grunt: "And I hope next time we come, the Labor Party will be more friendly." When Brown came up to offer his hand, Khrushchev curtly said "Nyet," and turned away.

At a stormy Labor Party meeting next day, Emanuel Shinwell, Defense Minister in the last Labor Cabinet, proposed that the Labor Party send an apology to B. & K. for Brown's behavior. The party indignantly refused. "It would be like apologizing for criticizing someone for knifing your brother," said one M.P. But next day Gaitskell called on the Russians at Claridge's, brought Brown's personal regrets, and expressed his own regret that the dinner had turned out badly. Khrushchev was unappeased.

Line Demolished. By losing his temper and his good sense, Khrushchev had demolished one of the Kremlin's best current lines--that Socialists and Communists are really brothers at heart, both working for the same objectives. In their candid moments, Communists have always considered democratic socialists and trade unionists dangerous antagonists, for they are living proof that societies can reform themselves without revolution and terror. Said Gaitskell with satisfaction: "Even left-wing members cannot have had any but the most ghastly experience."

Khrushchev had also destroyed the personal image of himself as the jovial, rough, goodhearted peasant. "The man's impossible," snapped Nye Bevan. "A fanatical Communist-- very different from Malenkov," said Gaitskell.

Labor's quiet little dinner party may prove the most instructive lesson of the great visit. Before a knowledgeable audience, it was the sharpest glimpse of the reality behind the beaming smiles of the Kremlin's Traveling Illusionists.

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