A Socko Performance at the Summit

Summitry has been in bad odor of late, criticized as a worthless exercise at best, or an outright danger at worst. But in an era of increasing global interdependence, the ritual gathering of government leaders serves one unquestionably valuable purpose: it enables them to take one another's measure at first hand, to size up their fellow leaders' abilities and weaknesses.

Over the past weekend Jimmy Carter's measure was taken by perhaps the toughest jury he has yet encountered --the heads of the West's major democracies. The early verdict appeared to be unanimous. The new U.S. President passed muster with high marks and was received into the exclusive ranks of world statesmen. In fact, Carter's debut was nothing short of socko.

The President radiated enthusiasm and confidence as he set off on a hectic five-day swing, the first trip abroad since he took office. His itinerary included at least three multilateral conferences, tete-`a-tetes with about a dozen heads of government, assorted airport statements, and carefully phrased toasts at lavish state banquets.

Tight as a Tick. Arriving in London aboard Air Force One with an entourage that included more than 50 Secret Service agents, Carter was grandly welcomed by Prime Minister James Callaghan "on behalf of the whole Continent." The President responded warmly by emphasizing "the special and very precious relationship" between the U.S. and Britain. He dramatized those ties the next day when he visited Newcastle -upon-Tyne, ancestral home of George Washington (see box).

Carter, who was driven around London in a tan bulletproof Lincoln, stayed at the heavily guarded Winfield House, the elegant Regent's Park residence of the U.S. Ambassador to the Court of St. James's. Senior members of his staff, like Secretary of State Cyrus Vance and Treasury Secretary Michael Blumenthal, did not fare nearly so well. Originally booked into Claridge's, the posh hostelry favored by Henry Kissinger, they had to revise their plans. Bent on frugality, Carter decreed that they join the rest of the U.S. party in the more modest Hotel Britannia. "He's tight as a tick," said presidential Press Secretary Jody Powell of his boss. "He always has been; he always will be."

His sightseeing over, Carter spent his second evening in Britain at an informal dinner given by Callaghan. Gathered around the table at 10 Downing St. were Japanese Premier Takeo Fukuda, Canadian Prime Minister

Pierre Trudeau, West German Chancellor Helmut Schmidt and Italian Premier Giulio Andreotti. A notable absentee: French President Valery Giscard d'Estaing, who boycotted the dinner. Reason: he was piqued that British Laborite Roy Jenkins had been invited to both Callaghan's dinner and some of the summit sessions in his capacity as president of the European Community's Brussels-based commission. Like his predecessors, Giscard is determined to keep the Common Market and its representatives from getting too uppity.

Carter appeared buoyant after returning to Winfield House from the dinner. "I could see a great confidence among the leaders about the future of democratic society," he told newsmen. The President even seemed a bit awed by the company he was keeping--a world away from Plains, Ga. Said he: "I was impressed with the great experience that the other leaders have in economics, which I didn't have." Could it be that he, of all people, had an inferiority complex? Confessed Carter: "Well, I do--on economics."

During four formal sessions over two days, the seven heads of government met in the wood-paneled state dining room of the Prime Minister's residence. Each leader was accompanied by his foreign affairs and economics ministers. Vance and Blumenthal thus flanked Carter, while experts like National Security Adviser Zbigniew Brzezinski and Trade Negotiator Robert Strauss were on call nearby. Between the meetings, ministerial-level officials conferred on special problems. Vance, for instance, huddled with British Foreign Secretary David Owen on strategy for a peaceful solution to the racial troubles in Rhodesia.

Economic topics--including uses and controls of nuclear energy--dominated much of the summit, although human rights and other political issues were also discussed. There was agreement that the global economic recovery has not been proceeding quickly enough and that unemployment and inflation remain twin dangers (see ECONOMY & BUSINESS). Each leader recited his country's growth-rate target for 1977 and pledged to do what was needed to meet it. The leaders also agreed that: 1) protectionism poses dangers to international trade; 2) the International Monetary Fund should be supported in its efforts to reduce imbalances in international payments resulting from the huge monetary surpluses of the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries; 3) there should be greater cooperation between the industrial north and the underdeveloped countries of the south.

Germany's Schmidt publicly committed himself to a 5% annual rate of economic growth, even if it requires stimulating his economy a bit more than he would prefer. Most of the other leaders had been pressing a reluctant Schmidt to do more to help world economic recovery.

For a while it had been feared that bitter feelings between Carter and Schmidt might sour the meeting's mood. In fact, there were reports from Bonn that Schmidt was in a combative spirit and had even boasted to aides that he had "at least fifteen tough questions I will put to him [Carter], and we'll see how he manages those." The Chancellor made no secret of his distaste for what he regards as Carter's preachy moralism on such issues as human rights and nuclear proliferation. Nor did he conceal his bitter resentment over what he felt was Carter's persistent schoolmasterly advice to Bonn on its duty to do more to stimulate its economy.

Despite this bad start, the wooing of Schmidt seemed to be one of Carter's most impressive successes. To clear the air as quickly as possible, the President asked Schmidt to sit beside him at Callaghan's informal dinner. The two men engaged in a lively give-and-take (helped by Schmidt's excellent English) on the issue of nuclear power and non-proliferation of atomic weapons. The German repeated his familiar assertion that the future development of his country's nuclear industry depends in large part on its continued access to U.S.-produced highly enriched uranium and on its ability to export power plants. He fears that this development may be stunted by Carter's desire to ban the sale of certain types of nuclear technology. While U.S.-German differences on nuclear controls were by no means reconciled, the exchanges in London on this question were not as acrimonious as had been feared. Reason: Carter last week removed a serious bone of contention between Bonn and Washington. He decided to resume exports of the highly enriched uranium on which many of Europe's reactors depend. By the summit's conclusion, there was agreement that a committee of experts should be formed to study ways of increasing production of nuclear energy without adding to the proliferation of weapons.

Tunicked Trumpeters. The morning after the 10 Downing Street dinner, Schmidt joined Carter for a 7:30 breakfast. Unlike Carter, Schmidt is not a morning man, and he was obviously impressed--perhaps even appalled--when Carter told him that he normally began his day at 6 a.m. Over melons, omelettes, sausages, rolls and coffee in Winfield House's family dining room, the two men resumed the previous evening's conversation. The President also invited Schmidt to Washington in July, and the Chancellor accepted. By the end of the 70-minute breakfast, Carter was addressing his guest as "Helmut" and even embracing him. Said Presidential Adviser Brzezinski: "The two leaders got along awfully well. They are both bright, sharp [and] know their stuff." Schmidt, in an aside to an aide, was heard to say that the meeting had been "ausgezeichnet"--excellent. When a newsman asked Schmidt if the nuclear issue could be resolved, the Chancellor replied: "Anything can be resolved. We are resolved to resolve anything."

In addition to breakfasting with Schmidt, Carter was planning to squeeze in meetings with Italy's Andreotti and France's Giscard, who had never met the U.S. President before the summit. Carter also saw Tory Leader Margaret Thatcher, whose party swept last week's local elections in England.

As the summit's hosts, the British demonstrated that they remain the grand masters of pomp. Jimmy Carter may be a no-frills President, but that did not deter the British from launching one extravagant scene after another. At the Buckingham Palace dinner given by Queen Elizabeth II, gold-tunicked trumpeters of the Household Cavalry heralded the approaching guests. In the sumptuous state dining room, all rich red damask, velvet, marble, mahogany and gold, an eight-course feast (including salmon, chicken, carrots and string beans) was served on gold plates by footmen in scarlet tails and white waistcoats, assisted by pages. Jimmy Carter dined between the Queen and her sister, Princess Margaret. Early Sunday morning Carter attended services at a nearly empty Westminster Abbey.

Not surprisingly, the summit's final communique, issued before hundreds of newsmen and staffers, produced no blueprint for curing the world's economic and political ills. A British official suggested that the conference's greatest success was simply that it had taken place. As Schmidt noted at one point, "We will leave with clearer ideas about each other's problems."

Intimate Brainstorming. After the summit Carter was to remain in London, ostensibly to discuss Berlin with Callaghan, Schmidt and Giscard. In fact, that was merely a pretext (also used by Henry Kissinger) to enable the West's four major military powers to hold an intimate brainstorming session about pressing global political issues. Since there are currently no major problems over Berlin, the Big Four were expected to discuss the Middle East, conventional arms exports, nuclear proliferation and the SALT talks.

From this minisummit, Carter would head to Geneva for a half-day meeting with Syrian President Hafez Assad on the prospects for an Arab-Israeli peace settlement. An intensely proud man, Assad is the only Middle East leader who declined an invitation to Washington; he even balked at meeting Carter in London. The President, however, apparently decided that it would be worth going the extra half-step to see Assad, the only major Arab chieftain with lines open to the Soviets.

After Geneva, Carter planned to double back to London to address NATO leaders. This extra day in the British capital will give him a valuable opportunity to confer separately with Greek Premier Constantine Caramanlis and Turkish Premier Sueleyman Demirel.

Tops on both agendas: the Cyprus controversy, which has bitterly divided Turkey and Greece (see WORLD).

By the time he returns to Washington at midweek, Carter will have every right to feel exhausted--but also exhilarated. He could hardly feel otherwise, especially after reading tributes like the one that appeared on the editorial page of the Times of London: "At a time when [West European leaders] face democracy's sternest test since the war, the inspiration of Mr. Carter's confidence, energy and fresh mind is sorely needed. [He could prove to be] a worthy successor to Roosevelt, Truman and [George] Marshall." Of course anyone embodying the power of the U.S. is going to be treated with respect abroad. But Carter, deploying the same combination of disarming charm and unexpected intelligence that he used so skillfully to propel himself into the Oval Office, earned much of this deference on his own.

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