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It was an improbable locus for a superpower collision. But the shape and location, if not the history and social reality, of Angola were being firmly impressed upon the minds of millions of American television viewers. At issue, they learned from the Secretary of State, testifying before a Senate subcommittee on African affairs, was this basic principle: "The Soviet Union must not be given any opportunity to use military forces for aggressive purposes without running the risk of conflict with us."1 Angola was to be the post-Vietnam testing ground of American will and power in the face of the global expansion of a bullish rival whose recently realized military outreach was seen to be leading it toward dangerous adventures.
"Israel," as Mrs. Meir put it, "is entitled to defensible borders." But where might such borders be drawn? The lines on which Israel's army stood at the end of the war of June 1967 seemed formidable, but have disappeared into history. The U.N. Security Council, in its celebrated Resolution 242 of November 1967, visualized that "secure and recognized boundaries" might be placed essentially along the lines obtaining before the outbreak of the June hostilities. Although it has refused to "draw maps," Israel has made it plain that the old lines will not do, in part owing to security concerns. But genuine security depends on regional accommodation, which the Arab states say cannot occur until all of the occupied territory is returned. All parties agree that some kind of demilitarization arrangement in returned territory would be needed in any overall settlement, but little serious public attention has been given to ways in which comprehensive demilitarization might be useful as a security safeguard in the context of comprehensive territorial return.
If the October 1973 War represented the zenith of pan-Arab solidarity, the Sinai Accord, concluded in September of 1975, must surely represent its ebb and disintegration. With the outbreak of the October War and the deployment of the oil weapon, the dreams that had for some time tantalized the minds of politically conscious Arabs appeared to be coming true. A traditionally divided Arab world was acting in unison and Arab armies were finally getting a chance to redeem their honor in a sharp break with a humiliating record of defeats. And the superior and resented West was finally being humbled and made to pay for the psychological scars and political and cultural dislocations that its dominance had inflicted upon the Arab world.
In the coming months, the Ford Administration must decide either to offer the Soviet Union compromises on the Vladivostok SALT Accord, permitting completion of the agreement as a permanent treaty, or to face the prospect of a prolonged period of strategic competition with the U.S.S.R., unconstrained by formal limits on strategic offensive forces. If the agreement is completed, the Congress must then decide on ratification or rejection. While this issue will occupy center stage in the strategic debate until it is resolved, the United States also faces a second major decision regarding its strategic program: whether to respond to the ongoing Soviet deployment of new, large, land-based missiles equipped with multiple independently targetable reentry vehicles (MIRVs). This Soviet deployment is not affected by the Vladivostok Accord. Thus, if it is important to respond by adjusting our strategic program, we will have to do so whether the agreement is completed or not.
The recent revelations of abuses by all our intelligence agencies and the multitudinous investigations of the CIA in particular have raised serious questions as to whether the United States can and should continue to maintain a capability to conduct any clandestine operations. Most of the horror stories have related to what is known as covert action-i.e., operations to secretly influence foreign governments, groups or individuals, often by illegal means. The Chile case is the most highly publicized. Almost none have involved the collection of intelligence abroad, but many of the techniques used in foreign countries have been occasionally practiced at home where the CIA cannot legally carry out such operations and where the responsibility rests with the FBI. As a consequence of these activities, there is widespread belief that the CIA should halt all covert operations and disband that part of the organization which has been responsible for carrying them out.
Thirteen years ago, in January 1963, Konrad Adenauer, 87, arrived in Paris to sign the Franco-German friendship treaty with Charles de Gaulle, 73. The "mystical communion" between these two old Catholics was strong enough that not even de Gaulle's veto of British entry into the Common Market the week before could stay the signing. Both men also shared the same political belief: Europe was no stronger than the bonds that linked France and Germany. It was a far-reaching treaty, unique for both countries in the kind of consultative machinery it set up. Yet de Gaulle's veto of Britain did, in fact, send it into a quick eclipse. A few months later Adenauer and his "German Gaullists" were gone, Chancellor Ludwig Erhard and Atlanticism had arrived, the Bundestag had added a preamble to the treaty that de Gaulle told Willy Brandt was a "personal offense," and the General, wearily, would remark that treaties, like young girls and roses, faded all too quickly.
A tiresome element of drama enters most appraisals of Italian affairs. It is common enough to hear well-wishers say with an apologetic sigh that the Italians are too inclined to dramatize their problems. They have this inclination, certainly. But there is another side to their posturing, and that is that the reactions elsewhere to what Italians do are also frequently exaggerated. I believe it was Ugo La Malfa who said a dozen years ago (at a time when he was Minister of the Budget), in answer to a rather irate question as to why the Italian economy was faltering after a long period of expansion, that it had not been the Italians who had imposed the term "miracle" on Italy's expansion, or given an Oscar to the lira. In plain words, outside observers who insisted on exaggerating achievement must expect to be disappointed when miracles were quite quickly spent. And there was also an implied confirmation in what he said of the fragility of the Italian economy, which was hidden during the years of expansion. Much more recently, Enrico Berlinguer, leader of the Communist Party, a man who visibly weighs his words, commented that the international press had regularly written of the better times in Italy as marvelous and the less good times as catastrophic, usually with a coup imminent.
Not quite a decade ago, Arvid Pardo, Maltese delegate to the United Nations, startled much of the international community with his proposal that the United Nations declare the seabed and ocean floor "underlying the seas beyond the limits of present national jurisdiction" to be "the common heritage of mankind," and not subject to appropriation by any nation for its sole use. In the face of a steady increase of unilateral seaward encroachments by nation-states, Pardo's call-to-arms launched the international community as a late entry in the race for control of the oceans and their vast resources, a race between "the good of one" (the nation-state acting in its own selfish interests) and "the common good." To achieve the latter, he urged the United Nations to create a new kind of international agency to assume jurisdiction, as a trustee for all countries, over the seabed and to supervise exploitation of its resources-with the net financial benefits, which he hoped would be considerable, to be used primarily to promote the development of poor countries.
The conflict between the poor developing nations living in the Southern Hemisphere and the rich industrial countries of the North has entered a new phase in recent months. At long last the countries of the world are coming seriously to grips with the growing material inequalities between a handful of affluent nations in North America, Western Europe and Japan (which account for less than 18 percent of the world population but more than 60 percent of world income), and the scores of poor countries in Asia, Africa and Latin America which constitute the bulk of humanity but enjoy very little of the earth's bounty.
Only yesterday, globalism was dismissed as an overreaching foreign policy style, a dangerous magnification of national interests and ambitions. How surprising that now, in slightly different form, it should come to be regarded as the best means for nation-states to coexist and prosper in an intimately interconnected world.
"All is well that ends," Treasury Secretary William Simon said jokingly at the cocktail party that followed the conclusion of the recent Jamaica Conference. It would indeed be hard to give in a few syllables a more discerning judgment about the long drawn-out international monetary negotiations of the past four to five years, since the suspension of the convertibility of the dollar into gold in August 1971, and the resulting collapse of the system of par values or fixed exchange rates which had existed since 1944.