The Global Zeitenwende
How to Avoid a New Cold War in a Multipolar Era
IN the closing days of the General Assembly last December one heard even responsible heads of delegations remark, sadly, bitterly: "The United Nations is done for." Others exulted. They took the visible discouragement of the Western delegations as a sign that the "interference" and "one-sided intervention" of the United Nations in places and problems around the world would soon be terminated. They were correct, of course, in calling the U.N. interference one-sided. By definition and in fact the United Nations is on the side of the weak and threatened against the strong and greedy.
The United Nations, though not yet done for, is indeed on trial for its life--at any rate in the incarnation that enabled a country like the United States to think of it, as statesmen said so often, as "a cornerstone of American foreign policy." The verdict may be rendered sooner than anyone expected, as we see from the manner in which the Soviet bloc and fellow-travelling states exploited the crisis precipitated by the death of Patrice Lumumba. They pounced on the killing to attack ferociously and with preposterous untruth the United Nations itself, its operations in the Congo, the office and person of the Secretary-General and all countries which recognized the government of President Kasavubu. To add intimidation to calumny they organized attacks on foreign embassies (including in some instances those of the United States) in capitals where no public act can be spontaneous and the only demonstrations possible are those approved by the government itself.
If the assault succeeds, if the power to manipulate the United Nations for its own designs passes to the Soviet Union, or if the organization is rendered impotent by the structural changes which Mr. Khrushchev has demanded, it is indeed "done for" as a functioning agency of world collaboration. And though Moscow may be frustrated now, the trial is merely adjourned.
When the final showdown comes, whether on the Congo, the Secretary-General or some other issue, the result will depend on the answer to this question: Are enough members willing to take the risks necessary to ensure the United Nations a new span of life in something like its original form and with something like its intended functions? If not, it will be condemned to desuetude by disillusionment, confusion, lassitude and fear among its earlier supporters, indifference and "disengagement" on the part of many of the new members and the persistent hostility of one of the two strongest. In that case the outlook would be gloomy enough. Many of the chief functions of the United Nations would be moribund and whatever was left of them would become subject to strong Communist influence. But since Moscow began to heighten by every means possible the crisis that followed the Lumumba murder an even more sombre possibility is in view: the Soviet leaders may be prepared to bring the United Nations to an abrupt end. If they fail to paralyze it or gain a controlling influence in it, they may decide to set up a rival organ of their own composed of Communist and fellow-travelling states plus as many of the unaligned states as can be intimidated or lured into disowning neutrality. Mr. Khrushchev and his deputies have found the United Nations useful as a forum for propaganda, blackmail and intimidation, a place to test the nerves of both opponents and in-betweeners. But as originally conceived, and even as now constituted, its liabilities for the Soviets are greater than these assets and give them reason to hate and fear it and wish to kill it, either outright or in everything but name.
The United Nations has thwarted major Soviet designs on half a dozen occasions; and so long as it exists and has the support of the United States it poses the sobering possibility that even minor pickings and stealings brought there for discussion can develop into an all-out trial of strength between the Soviet Union and its major antagonist. Some time back, therefore, the Soviet leaders saw the importance of bringing that support to an end. They could hardly count on mustering enough votes in the General Assembly to pass measures directly injurious to the United States--a development which supposedly might persuade the American public that U.N. membership is too risky to be continued. But they saw that with the obedient votes of their satellites plus the support of a considerable group of African and Asian states and a few others they might be able to line up the one-third of the General Assembly membership needed to thwart positive actions under the Charter; and in this way they might hope to demonstrate to the American public that the United Nations had become helpless and useless and that continued membership was a waste of effort and money.
Concurrently, the Soviets organized a drive to paralyze the United Nations at its operating center by abolishing the office of Secretary-General. The Secretary-General is chosen as the embodiment of the ideal of an impartial civil servant, imbued with the United Nations spirit and responsive to the instructions of the Security Council and the General Assembly. Mr. Khrushchev decided that the office must be abolished because these qualities obstruct his efforts to use the United Nations for his own purposes. His determination hardened as the crisis in the Congo deepened, for the present Secretary-General, Mr. Dag Hammarskjold, proved stubbornly determined that U.N. operations there should be conducted in a neutral manner as between opposing local factions in strict compliance with the instructions of the Security Council. On February 4, Moscow's personal attack on Mr. Hammarskjold reached some sort of a summit of unreason and untruth when he was branded as an accomplice and organizer of Mr. Lumumba's murder.
Mr. Khrushchev's manœuvre takes the form of a demand that the Secretary-General shall be replaced by a triumvirate representing the Western, Communist and unaligned states. He has not made clear how he would want the triumvirate to function. Would each of its three members have the right to veto every U.N. operation? Or would whichever of the two more powerful members recruited the unaligned member thereby attain majority control? One can see a situation developing in which the neutralist representative, wavering between the arguments of the other two (and perhaps their promises and threats) would delay any decision until an emergency had developed into a catastrophe. In all circumstances, decision by committee is notoriously unsatisfactory. To substitute it for a single official acting under instruction from constituted authorities and accountable to them at every moment would damage the organization irreparably. Soviet control in the proposed triumvirate might be equivalent to a veto in the Assembly.
The proposal to replace the Secretary-General by a three-man directorate was in part designed to please the unaligned states, particularly those that might hope to serve on it. But Prime Minister Nehru took warning, at least for the time being; he advised against attempting "at this juncture" to effect structural changes by revising the Charter. Other governments had second thoughts also. A substitute that might be acceptable to the Soviets as a stopgap would be for the General Assembly to appoint an Advisory Committee to work with the Secretary-General. Would it advise him or control him? Either way the plan is only somewhat less objectionable than Mr. Khrushchev's project to replace him outright. Either the Advisory Committee would be in agreement and would try to impose its will on the Secretary-General; or it would be unable to agree and this would be interpreted as meaning that he should refrain from any action. Whether or not the Secretary-General followed the Committee's advice he would be in trouble. If he did, he would be accused of being its catspaw; if he did not, it would be said that he was acting rashly on his own. There is no acceptable substitute for a single chief administrative officer, responsible for his actions directly to the sources of power designated in the Charter.
Warning came on November 11, 1960, that the Soviet delegation might be in sight of the time when it could carry out some of its destructive designs. It came in the form of a sudden proposal by the Nigerian delegation that the General Assembly postpone the election of new members of the Security Council and the Economic and Social Council, thereby putting off the choice between rival Soviet and Western plans for providing better Asian and African representation on those bodies. The Soviet plan was to displace enough Western members to make room for members from Asia and Africa; the Western plan was simply to enlarge the Councils and add Asian and African members. The Western states opposed the Soviet plan for the obvious reason that it would cut down their own representation, and they opposed the Nigerian proposal because they did not want to risk paralyzing two key U.N. organs, as would happen if the delay lasted beyond the end of the year. The Western delegations (except Finland, which abstained) and those from Latin America (except three mavericks, Cuba, Haiti and the Dominican Republic) voted against the Soviet proposal. The Soviet delegation, however, had some time back introduced a factor into the discussion of this question which it now revived and which proved decisive; it made known that it would not accept any plan, even its own, until Red China had been admitted to U.N. membership. With this veto in the Security Council staring them in the face,[i] most of the unaligned states joined the Communist bloc in voting for delay, and the Nigerian motion was carried 51 to 38.[ii] Two special factors affected the outcome: one of the Western candidates, Portugal, was particularly unacceptable to the anti-colonialists; and there was a valid argument that no action should be taken until a special committee appointed to study the question had been able to agree on a report. But it was the Soviet Union's threat to prevent any change whatsoever in the Councils except on its own terms that settled the matter. The ulterior purpose was clear--to secure wider backing among the unaligned states next autumn for the move to admit Red China to membership.
The writing was now on the wall of the General Assembly for all to see; henceforth Western arguments and Western votes would not necessarily be effective against a coalition put together by the Soviet delegation by the simple tactic of facing the unaligned states with a choice between reward and punishment. When this happened, the result at best would be a stalemate which would prevent the General Assembly from taking any action.
The Soviet delegation would obviously exploit its advantage to the full and at once. One argument for speed was that although the Soviets currently exercise great influence with certain ambitious African leaders, they must foresee difficulties in holding all of these in line indefinitely. Aid programs and anti-colonialist oratory will not be enough to satisfy them once they begin vying in earnest for supremacy, demanding preferential economic treatment, and, even more embarrassing, political support against their rivals. Soviet encouragement of the Pan-African movement has been profitable and will continue to be up to a point; but there are differences within the movement which orators on the theme of "the African personality" skim over lightly. Already these differences--national, tribal, cultural, linguistic and religious--reveal the outlines of serious future disputes. (Europeans, after all, live on one compact continent, have skins of the same color and have fought each other for centuries.) It will tax Soviet skill to maintain an influence with various clients who are on opposite sides of these disputes.
There was another reason for the Soviet Union's wishing to mount its full offensive in and against the United Nations as soon as possible. Some of the newer states (and some not so new) appear not to understand that decisions on even purely organizational issues will affect the capacity of the United Nations to intervene promptly in disputes in which they themselves may become involved. This unawareness, however, may change. Forces beyond Moscow's control may jolt these Asian and African states into realizing that though the old European empires have crumbled others are in the making. Soviet leaders must leave as little opportunity as possible for repetitions of the rude lessons given Prime Minister Nehru by Red China when she repudiated the Panchsheel principles of live and let live, massacred thousands of Tibetans and invaded Indian territory.
By every sign the United Nations was destined in 1961 to become a principal testing ground of Soviet and Western statesmanship. How successful either would be was evidently to depend largely on its flexibility and skill in working with the new world forces there represented and in adjusting to the new ways in which the traditional machineries of negotiation and conference now operate. The murder of Patrice Lumumba gave the Soviets the opportunity they wished to bring the two forces into head-on collision in conditions which they hoped would not be favorable to the West.
A member wanting to use the United Nations for selfish purposes has found increasing scope for manœuvre as the membership has grown. In favor of the intriguer, too, is the fact that no one of the organization's key bodies--Security Council, General Assembly, Secretariat--is functioning today as was planned 15 years ago at San Francisco.
The Security Council was intended to act as the U.N. executive organ with primary responsibility for the maintenance of international peace and security. But as all the world knows, it is held in a state of chronic stalemate. By the latest count the Soviet Union has used the veto 94 times; the other four permanent members have between them used it seven times (the United States so far has not been one of those using it). All the permanent members consider the right of veto a necessary safeguard, and none would relinquish it, although Secretary Marshall proposed unsuccessfully in 1947 that its use might be restricted.
Because the Security Council is disabled the General Assembly has edged further and further into the field of action. Recognition that its functions ought to be expanded came principally in the "Uniting for Peace" Resolution of 1951, which among other things authorized it to meet in emergency session at short notice when the Security Council was prevented from taking action, and to recommend collective measures, including if necessary the use of military force.[iii] Today, however, the General Assembly is not what it was in 1945 or 1951. Its original membership has nearly doubled; over half the present members are from Asia, the Middle East and Africa; and perhaps a score of prospective candidates from those areas are gathering in the wings and will one day be admitted. All the 99 delegations represent sovereign nations and are dependent on instructions from home governments, which in the case of the states only recently organized suffer from a crippling lack of trained personnel. As a result, the General Assembly has become unwieldy and the discussions diffuse and lacking in spontaneity; there is neither crisp debate nor prompt action. Instead it is the arena for the battle of the blocs. For the 99 delegations divide roughly into three categories-Western, Communist and what is usually called neutralist, meaning more accurately states not formally aligned in the cold war. In this division, the unaligned states hold the balance of power--not of real power in the world, of course, but of voting power. So far they have not formed a cohesive bloc, and even if they did so the bloc would not have the votes to enforce its separate will. The situation would be different, of course, if any number of the Latin American republics entered the doubtful column on critical issues. At present the strength of the unaligned states is simply that they can block the proposals of either of the two other sides, and they can negotiate with them collectively and individually as to which way they will swing their votes.
The arithmetic of the situation is not what has been the most disturbing to Western delegations. They accept as a matter of course the Charter provision that a third of the membership can block a substantive motion; and when they make a proposal they expect the Soviet Union to try to secure the support of enough unaligned states to defeat it. Their fear comes from the fact that the General Assembly seems particularly likely to be incapacitated in just those moments of extreme crisis when it is called on to take unpleasant decisions and risky actions. The pacifist creed professed by many unaligned states is not fully credible; one thinks of India and Pakistan, Indonesia and New Guinea, Ghana and Togo, and others. But it will give them a ready excuse to fall in with the arguments against effective collective action sure to be put forward by the Soviet Union when either it or a state in its camp is accused of threatening aggression.
It is not only in moments of world crisis, however, that U.N. decisions of the highest importance may be warped by high idealism and pacifist prejudice untainted by specialized knowledge, to say nothing of less admirable motivations. Surely no subject is more important than disarmament and surely none is more highly technical or more baffling even to experts who have lived with it for years. Yet representatives of states which have no technology, few if any men of science and probably not a single official assigned to full-time study of disarmament problems are expected to have opinions not only on goals but on the staggeringly complex steps suggested for reaching them. No wonder that, as one weary expert has put it, "They do not greet our proposals with hostility, just with incomprehension." In these circumstances the most vague and far-reaching programs, the ones that promise most and dwell least on the land-mines dotting every foot of the way, are bound to attract wide support. The Soviet proposal of complete and immediate disarmament is calculated to make this appeal and attract this support.
Leaders of countries next door to Red China or Soviet Russia might have been expected to realize even more clearly than others the risks lurking in this simplified approach to the disarmament problem. The abolition of all military force, international or national, would automatically give an overwhelming advantage to nations of mass population and ambitious leaderership. What, for example, would then hinder the leaders of Red China from loosing hordes of their people in a "peaceful" surge into adjoining territories? Partisans of non-resistance might think it admirable that no shot had been fired. But when the day came, would submerged small countries be so philosophic? Unfortunately, not all Asian spokesmen gave signs of real alarm at the Soviet suggestion to abolish at one blow all deterrents to mass movements, armed or unarmed.
The change in the character of U.N. membership began some years ago when India, Indonesia and other important states proclaimed devotion to what was loosely called neutrality. The formulas differed in name but were alike in seeming to rule out support for the U.N. purposes and principles enumerated in the first paragraph of Article 1 of the Charter. The repudiation was not explicit; but from what various leaders said time and again in speeches it became plain that escape from the risks of collective U.N. action, under the banner of pacifist neutralism, was the bedrock of their foreign policy (except of course where their own frontiers or nationalist claims were involved; there they could be intransigent, even militant). Development of the theory of pacifist neutralism helped erode what remained of the concept of collective action after the Soviets had made plain in the Security Council and otherwise that they would permit such action only when it favored them and their protégés. Many members followed an attractive lead which seemed to offer U.N. benefits without sharing U.N. duties and dangers; and most of the newly admitted states have done so as a matter of course.
All this was highly significant once it became necessary to rely on the General Assembly not just to talk but to take the responsibility of acting in crisis when the Security Council is helpless; for although talk in the General Assembly knows no bounds, there is no assurance that if it is required to act it can muster the courage to do so.
The potential value of the members of the young delegations in the work of the United Nations must not be underestimated. Arriving in New York, they find themselves in an unfamiliar environment and called on suddenly to participate in decisions for which they have had only brief preparation; but many among them are men of the first order, highly cultivated and conscientious, and some have already begun to play useful roles both in their own right and as intermediaries between West and East. As was inevitable, however, delegates from states which had not yet been born at the time of the last great war know little about the depth of feeling which brought the United Nations into being and the reasons for the presence in the Charter of each long-debated article. The Allied peoples who sent their delegates to San Francisco in 1945 held certain beliefs, formed from their experiences in two world wars and their previous attempt and failure to create an effective world organization. They were determined that there must be a new international organization and they knew that it must demand more from its members than the old League of Nations had done if it was to work better and last longer.
The majority of the new states of Asia and Africa were spared these experiences and looked on what the Allied nations had tried to do at San Francisco in their own special way. Their whole life, in so far as it was politically conscious at all, had been dominated by one concern: the struggle for independence. They had lived outside the international scene. Today, they are less concerned with what often seem to them theoretical formulas of how world peace is to be preserved than with immediate problems of how they can give their new independence a stronger economic and social base and help other colonial peoples to independence also. In their imagination, the purpose of the Charter adopted in 1945 was not the idealistic one of preserving peace. They cannot help suspecting that the long orderly procedure set up for dealing with international disputes--from conciliation and arbitration to collective measures to defeat aggression--had the hidden purpose of freezing the status quo and thus perpetuating the colonial régime. They still mistrust the colonial powers, even the ones now rapidly freeing their colonies; and since the same powers are prominent in the effort to preserve the integrity of the United Nations they have some suspicions about their motives there too.
In recent years the United States has found itself included in the general mistrust because it has maintained links with its wartime allies in defense organizations against Communist aggression. Several of the NATO countries still have colonies, and the demand of those colonies for independence has placed the United States Government in a dilemma: to weaken the alliance by following its own traditions and openly favoring independence movements, or to keep the alliance intact at the cost of damaging the confidence of the African peoples. On the whole it has tried to straddle the issue, without remarkable success. A case in point was the Declaration stating "the necessity of bringing to a speedy and unconditional end colonialism in all its forms and manifestations" which came before the General Assembly last December. Western opinion about it was divided. Some observers considered it on the whole innocuous. Others pointed to the article reading: "Inadequacy of political, economic, social or educational preparedness should never serve as a pretext for delaying independence." This, they emphasized, was an encouragement to create more Congos. Two Soviet amendments that would have set a 1961 deadline and imposed other undesirable conditions were defeated. In view of this, some Americans felt that the Declaration indicated a general direction more than it set forth a timetable, and would have liked the United States delegation to put itself on that side. On December 14 the Declaration was adopted by a vote of 89 to 0. The United States abstained.
On occasions when specific colonial issues were before the Trusteeship Council or the General Assembly the African and Asian states also have been critical of what seemed to them an inability of the American delegation to make up its mind, pro or con. One such case was when India and eleven other states last November introduced a resolution calling on the Portuguese Government to supply information about Angola, Mozambique and other overseas territories under its administration, something they claimed it was bound to do by Article 73 of the Charter, under the heading "Declaration Regarding Non-Self-Governing Territories." The Portuguese Government has refused to transmit such reports, on the grounds that the territories are not colonies but provinces of Portugal proper. In arguing its position it also gave very different interpretations of Article 73 and the Charter's intent in promoting the welfare of peoples. The Soviet delegate, Mr. Kuchava, said the resolution was shockingly weak and accused the sponsors of having been "forced by the colonialist powers to accept this emasculated thing." To which the Indian delegate, Mr. Jung, replied spiritedly: "My country, for one, needs to be given no lessons in anti-colonialism." The resolution was adopted, 45 votes to 6, with 24 abstentions. The United States was one of those that abstained, giving among its reasons that some of the phraseology was objectionably broad (which was true) and that it was not proper to single out countries to remind them of their obligations under Article 73 (which the sponsors considered a quibble, since Portugal is now the only power refusing to report on its overseas territories).
South Africa does not present, properly speaking, a "colonial problem," yet in anti-colonialist quarters it has been the origin of resentment against the United States for not condemning racism more formally. Washington did issue a critical statement after the Sharpeville shootings, and this created a sensation in Africa because it was so prompt and explicit; but its effect was dissipated when Washington seemed to have second thoughts about the wisdom of speaking out so frankly. In discussions of the South African question in the United Nations, the United States has shown great reserve. Its caution may spring partly from the knowledge that racism also exists in the United States, even though the United States Government, unlike the Union of South Africa Government, does not make discrimination an official policy but on the contrary condemns and fights it. But the caution comes more directly from a determination not to intervene in matters which, in the language of the Charter, "are essentially within the domestic jurisdiction of any state." That Charter provision was universally demanded at San Francisco, and without it not merely the United States but many other nations around the world would have refused to accept the duties of U.N. membership. In the realm of feelings as distinct from actions, Prime Minister Macmillan's "winds of change" speech revealed that his government is as convinced as ours that apartheid offers no solution for the racial conflict in South Africa. But the Union is an independent member of the British Commonwealth and there is no way in which London could coerce Pretoria if it would. On one matter which concerns the Union the United States need not maintain the same reserved attitude that it does toward racial problems within the Union. The lineage of South West Africa as a mandated territory seems clear enough to justify the United Nations in requiring that the Union submit reports on conditions there, and to permit the United States to support the demand with vigor.
The Algerian war presented the United States with perhaps its most perplexing difficulties in satisfying a NATO partner and at the same time avoiding involvement on the "colonialist" side. We have come to place our hopes on President de Gaulle's patient efforts to end the struggle and, incidentally, save us from our dilemma; and in past months the chances that this might in fact happen have on the whole improved. The United States has felt a special duty not to do anything that might lessen de Gaulle's chances of success. This would have been its position even if France were not a NATO member, for it could not in conscience take any action which risked blocking the only hopeful exit in sight in Algeria, thereby increasing the danger that the war might even ignite civil war in France itself. The American attitude has been resented in many parts of Africa, but not everywhere. The French-speaking Republics now grouped in the Community or the Entente have favored de Gaulle and approved our wish not to hamper him. Tunisia has tried as earnestly to be helpful in the Franco-Algerian negotiations as Morocco, Guinea, Mali and the U.A.R. have tried to sabotage them.
When it comes to dealing with problems like these Mr. Khrushchev does not have to weigh alternatives of responsible statesmanship. His choice is predetermined. He will take whatever course promotes the disintegration of the Western alliance; favors turbulence in Africa or anywhere else that will permit Soviet penetration; and damages as much as possible the reputation and influence of the United Nations as a force for the orderly settlement of disputes and resistance to aggression and blackmail. He feels quite uninhibited--indeed takes a self-righteous tone--in attacking colonialism and imperialism, and when he does so he wins applause from many of the neutralist delegations (and not the smallest or most inexperienced only). The applause is exhilarating, and he gazes contemptuously around the chamber at the stony-faced Western delegates. But his deeper aims are clear: to make the lie that the Soviet Union is the paladin of the oppressed so familiar by endless repetition that in the face of all the evidence the credulous in the end feel there is something to it; and to divert attention from Soviet oppression and from the Soviet form of colonialism which, fortunately for his argument, fastens itself on regions comfortably far from the tropics.
The fact is that there is very little interest in the uncommitted states in the issues of the East-West struggle. Differences between the ultimate goals of Communism and democracy seem irrelevant to leaders just starting from scratch to build viable national economies and political régimes that can run them (and that they can run). They look for aid where they can get it. They do not waste time speculating about what may be the outcome of the present world struggle; and they disregard the possibility that it will determine their own fate.
The attitudes of individual unaligned states and their allegiance to the groups with which they usually are identified are less clear-cut, of course, than has appeared from the foregoing attempt to give an idea of the play of forces in the General Assembly.
Certain unaligned states maintain a fairly steady orientation, departing from it only occasionally if at all; others belong to regional or other groups but usually do not vote with the majority; others occupy positions between the two extremes. Delegates from the older Asian states--Japan, the Philippines, Thailand and Turkey--meet regularly with the representatives of the more recently established nations of Asia and Africa. Their views are usually quite different, however, for the four states mentioned have defense ties with the West and usually vote on that side. So do Pakistan and Malaya, unless their Western partners take unsatisfactory positions on colonial issues. As a rule, the former French colonies in Africa which now belong to the Community or the Entente are still favorable to the West, if only to the extent of withholding their votes on various controversial issues; the exceptions have been on questions of African independence, though even here, as noted above, they have sympathized with de Gaulle's efforts for a peaceful solution in Algeria. On the other hand, a considerable number of states such as Afghanistan, Ghana, Indonesia and lately Morocco line up as a rule on the Soviet side; recently the United Arab Republic and the former French territories of Guinea and Mali have done so almost invariably.
India's attitude has special importance because of her size, her prestige and the lofty moral principles expressed by her leaders. She was one of the first declared neutrals and she is the one whose wish really to be neutral is least open to doubt. When other countries that had supplied contingents for the U.N. force in the Congo were withdrawing them and the whole operation seemed on the point of collapse, Prime Minister Nehru uttered cautionary words and offered to send combat troops to help fill the gap. Yet on other occasions the actions of the Indian delegation in the United Nations have been perplexing unless they are thought of not as originating so much in neutrality as in a desire to keep Russian friendship as a brake on Chinese belligerency.
Americans do not much mind Mr. Nehru's condemnation of American materialism; they themselves think it has been overdone. But they may be uncharitable enough to have read without profound sympathy his recent plaintive comment about another country's lack of gratitude for the aid which it had received from India. Speaking of Nepal's hostility, he said: "That is what we are getting in exchange for all the friendship and help we have given in the last ten years or so." On the whole, however, homilies on spiritual versus material values, East and West, or doubts as to whether sufficient recognition is given the role played by American material prosperity in keeping India's five-year plan going, leave Americans unruffled. What would worry them would be if they saw signs of an increasing tendency among the hitherto unaligned states to adopt anti-American attitudes automatically or, carrying this a step further, form themselves into an anti-American or anti-Western voting bloc in the United Nations. This does not exist so far. But some factors do operate, consciously or unconsciously, to create the impression that one day it might. Occasions when Indian delegates take a middle-of-the-road position, attempt to modify Soviet measures or vote against them have unfortunately attracted less attention than the occasions when Mr. Krishna Menon's zeal as grand marshal of the Asian and African states has resulted in their lining up against some Western measure.
Jugoslavia presents an altogether different aspect of "neutralism," one which in recent months has become quite enigmatic. Jugoslavia is not aligned with the Soviet Union; indeed, she has been threatened in the past by Soviet military and economic power and has escaped from Soviet domination only by a marvelous display of courage. She has repeatedly received loans and credits from the United States to strengthen her army and economy and help her maintain independence from Soviet or other control. President Tito has stated categorically that the United States has never sought to use this aid to influence his domestic or foreign policy. As recently as December 27, 1960, his government announced a monetary reform linking the Jugoslav economy more closely to the capitalist West, based on credits of more than a quarter of a billion dollars pledged by the International Monetary Fund and a group of Western countries, including the United States. In her own society, Jugoslavia pursues Marxist goals in a manner radically different from what is approved in Moscow, and this has brought down concerted ridicule and abuse on President Tito from Soviet and satellite leaders and press. Nevertheless, President Tito stated recently that "on the most important issues of the day" Belgrade and Moscow hold identical views; in the last session of the General Assembly, Jugoslavia's votes were consistently the same as the Soviet Union's; and the Jugoslav delegation has been as active in colonial issues as any former colony in Asia or Africa.
Even friendly observers cannot help wondering what President Tito's "most important issues" are. Evidently, by the record, maintenance of national independence and removal of threats to it are not among them. Is one of them coexistence? If so, this would indicate that the West has shown less desire than Moscow to coexist peacefully with Jugoslavia. Or disarmament? This would imply that President Tito would really feel at ease if the armed forces of Jugoslavia (population 18,000,000) and Soviet Russia (population 210,000,000) were simultaneously disbanded. (Actually, he has implied that he believes graduated disarmament would be more practical.) Or anti-colonialism and anti-imperialism? These expressions cost nothing to use, and may be profitable psychologically in preparing the way for a spread of Jugoslav popularity and trade in Africa (to the disadvantage, moreover, of Red China's influence there).[iv] Closer home, President Tito can hardly have forgotten how often Soviet leaders and press have lumped him with other imperialist miscreants and have accused him, in vile terms, of committing a crime which in essence has been only to take help where it could be found for defending his country's independence. He has been too courageous on occasion in defying the Soviet Union to be suspected of appeasing it now. The enigma remains.
Viewing the tendency of some newer African and Asian states in the General Assembly to be "neutral on the side of the Soviets" one must remember that they may vote as they do out of what they consider necessity, or simply because it seems advantageous, and that often their motivation has little or nothing to do with their conception of the merits of Soviet policy. It is not that they love us less, supposing for a moment that sentiment of any sort comes into their attitudes, but that they fear the displeasure of the Soviets more. Those that need to turn to both East and West for help with their social and economic problems are always under temptation to talk and vote against the United States; they know they can do it with impunity, and they know that opposite behavior would awaken damaging Soviet displeasure. Their realistic appraisal simply calls attention once more to the handicap of having a reputation for acting with reasonable decency and understanding.
Until the autumn of 1960, Secretary-General Hammarskjold seemed to have a fairly stable footing amid the swirling currents and shifting sands of the General Assembly. The results of his "preventive diplomacy" in the Middle East had not been approved in the West, especially when it became evident that it left Egypt free to prevent the transit of Israeli ships through the Suez Canal. On the other hand, his manœuvre in persuading the Security Council (by a procedural vote) to establish a United Nations "presence" in Laos, though at first it achieved the desired calming effect, was for that very reason not at all satisfactory to the Soviet Union, which questioned the legality of the action and criticized him for it freely. In the end, the U.N. action in Laos did not succeed because only a policy in which the United States and the Soviet Union were in agreement could succeed (unless, that is, one side gave way before the other's threat of war). The incident epitomized the grounds on which Mr. Hammarskjold has been criticized on other occasions, including the Congo crisis, namely that unless an ambitious political program conducted by the United Nations has the backing of the "veto" powers in the Security Council and of two-thirds of the General Assembly it may be frustrated and eventually fail. Specific criticisms aside, however, Mr. Hammarskjold was respected for his independence and integrity and for his calm demeanor amid storms. In particular, a number of the smaller states seemed to realize that he was the principal custodian of their interests.
The generally favorable attitude toward the Secretary-General reached its high-water mark on September 20, 1960, during the special emergency session of the General Assembly called to consider the Congo crisis. On that date, on a motion sponsored by 17 African and Asian countries, the Secretary-General received a vote of 70 to 0 in support of the policy he had been following in the Congo. The Soviet delegation had done everything it could to turn the General Assembly into the opposite course. Only the day before it had introduced a draft resolution holding the Secretary-General guilty of violating Security Council directives in the Congo and specifically of removing the legitimate Congolese government and Parliament. But the strong African and Asian support which he had at this point induced the Soviets to withdraw their own resolution; and in the end they decided it would not be politic to vote against the other one, and simply abstained.
Only two months later the situation had been reversed by the growing African fear that Belgium was seeking to regain control of the Congo and that U.N. operations were favoring this result. Some 20,000 Belgians had stayed in the country despite the terror which followed the revolt of the Congolese National Army. Later an estimated 3,000 returned. Many Belgian technicians were retained in their previous jobs, often because only they could keep necessary public services running. In Katanga, Belgians were prominent as advisers to Mr. Tschombé in his self-styled independent government and in the Katanga military and police. Others--estimated at 1,200--were active in the entourage of President Kasavubu and in government services in and around Leopoldville (in the past, those services had been staffed by about 4,500 Belgian officials and technicians).
The U.N. resolutions under which Secretary-General Hammarskjold was acting in the Congo stipulated that he must show strict neutrality as between Congolese politicians and factions, and at the start the African states had favored this policy. But many of them came to feel that what they had favored in principle worked in practice against ex-Premier Lumumba, who had more and more become a symbol in their eyes of extreme nationalism and, in distinction from President Kasavubu, of resistance to the former colonial power. In retrospect they regretted the U.N. recognition of President Kasavubu and blamed it on American influence. They particularly resented the Secretary-General's decision that U.N. forces could not be used to put down the Katanga secessionists. (Before long, Messrs. Kasavubu and Tschombé also would be complaining about Mr. Hammarskjold's bias--on the opposite side, of course.) Radical African leaders who had ulterior purposes may also have thought that Mr. Lumumba would be accessible to their influence and would join with them in building an African power bloc. Little by little a number of African and Asian states turned against Mr. Hammarskjold and against the Western powers who were sticking by the agreement not to send aid to the Congo except through the United Nations.
The extent of the shift in African and Asian opinion became clear on December 20, just before the General Assembly adjourned. An effort had been made in the Security Council to secure approval of the U.N. course in the Congo, but the Soviet Union had intervened with a veto. In the General Assembly two rival resolutions were introduced. One, sponsored by India, Jugoslavia and six other states, and backed by the Soviet Union, called among other things for the liberation of former Premier Lumumba and all other political prisoners and the neutralization of Colonel Mobutu's armed forces. It withheld any approval of Secretary-General Hammarskjold's past policy or any authorization for him to continue it. The other resolution, introduced by the United States and Britain, called on President Kasavubu to summon a round-table conference of Congolese leaders with a view to reconvening Parliament; and it contained instructions for the Secretary-General to continue to discharge the mandate given him earlier by the Security Council and the Assembly. Neither motion secured the necessary two-thirds support of the members present and voting. The Indian-Jugoslav resolution had 28 favorable votes and 42 against, with 27 delegations abstaining and 2 absent. The Western resolution had 43 favorable votes and 22 against, with 32 abstaining and 2 absent. In each case, the opposition votes were enough in view of the abstentions to block adoption of the motion. If the 20 African and Asian nations that were among those abstaining on the Indian-Jugoslav resolution had voted for it, it would have been adopted. If only one of the 32 nations that abstained on the U.S.-British resolution (they included France and Portugal) had voted for it, it would have been adopted.
Secretary-General Hammarskjold deplored what he called the "dual failure" of the Security Council and the General Assembly to give him the necessary new directives. He said firmly: "Naturally, the operation will be continued under the previous decisions." But he can have had no doubt as to the portent of the December 20 vote, especially in light of the violent offensive launched against him and his office by Mr. Khrushchev. Not only would he face the unremitting hostility of the Soviet bloc; from now on it was doubtful that a majority of the Africans and Asians in the General Assembly would make common cause with the Western nations when they went to his defense and the defense of his office.
The split in the General Assembly did more than damage Mr. Hammarskjold's personal position; it was a blow to the efficiency of the operations themselves, for it diminished the authority of his representatives on the spot and gave warning that whatever they did by his orders might be repudiated later--certainly would be if Moscow could manage it. It also whetted the appetite of various African leaders who thought that by favoring the Congolese extremists they could spread their fame and influence throughout the continent; and it encouraged the Soviets to increase their unilateral intervention, hoping that if the United Nations undertaking failed spectacularly they could exploit the even more ferocious personal, tribal and provincial struggles which would certainly follow.
In January, while a U.N. Conciliation Commission with Jaja Wachuko of Nigeria as Chairman was at work in the Congo, the heads of five purportedly unaligned African states--Ghana, Guinea, Mali, Morocco and U.A.R.--met in Casablanca and announced their intention of pulling out their contingents from the U.N. Congo force. Indonesia had already shown the way on December 13 by stating that its troops would be withdrawn. The withdrawals announced at Casablanca would reduce U.N. effectives to some 14,000--to maintain order in an area one-quarter the size of the United States. Did some of the Casablanca leaders imagine that by bringing things to a head in the Congo they would open the way for African states, their own not laggard among them, to take over the whole Congo situation? Whatever the motives, the withdrawal of African contingents promised to increase the anarchy in the Congo, with the Soviet Union as ultimate beneficiary.
The killing of Patrice Lumumba, announced from Katanga on February 13, was the signal for the Soviet Union to withdraw its "recognition" of Secretary-General Hammarskjold and label him an "assassin." It already had refused to recognize the government of President Kasavubu and instead had recognized the Lumumba régime in Stanleyville; now it transferred its recognition to Mr. Lumumba's deputy, Antoine Gizenga, and promised him "all possible assistance and support." The United Arab Republic also accepted the Stanleyville régime and was followed by Communist East Germany, Jugoslavia, Ghana and others.
Within a few days, however, there were indications that African sentiment did not unanimously favor a course leading so obviously to civil war, with Africa's deeper involvement in the cold war to follow. The U.N. Conciliation Commission headed by Mr. Wachuku, of Nigeria, which had been conducting an investigation in the Congo for six weeks, now cabled from Leopoldville "certain principal conclusions." These all opposed what the Soviet Union and fellow-travelling states had been aiming to accomplish. Among its recommendations were that the newly-formed Provisional Government of Prime Minister Ileo should be the basis for a broadened government of national unity; that the Congolese National Army should be insulated from politics and reorganized under the authority of the central government; that a "summit meeting" of political leaders should be convened at a neutral place; that the aim should be a federal system as the only form of government able to preserve national unity and territorial integrity; that political prisoners should be released and a general amnesty granted; and that Parliament should be reconvened either at once or after the above steps had been taken.
Meanwhile the debate in the Security Council reached if not a climax a pause in the early morning of February 21, when two significant things happened, one negative, one positive. The Council defeated a Soviet resolution to oust Secretary-General Hammarskjold, repudiate his policy in the Congo and order the withdrawal of U.N. forces within 30 days. The vote was eight against, with the lone Soviet vote in favor, and with two abstentions (significantly the United Arab Republic and Ceylon). And it adopted a resolution by Ceylon, Liberia and the United Arab Republic affirming previous Council and General Assembly resolutions under which the Secretary-General had been acting, urging the United Nations to take appropriate measures to prevent civil war in the Congo, including "the use of force, if necessary, in the last resort," and asking the immediate withdrawal "of all Belgian and other foreign military and para-military personnel and advisers not under the United Nations command, and mercenaries." The vote here was 9 to 0, with the Soviet Union and France abstaining.
Thus one of Ambassador Stevenson's first important votes found the United States delegation lined up with the African and Asian group while the Soviet Union stood apart. Another resolution adopted urged the convening of Parliament, the reorganization of Congolese armed units and the coöperation of members in implementing these objectives. Mr. Hammarskjold said that while these actions gave him "a stronger and more clear framework for U.N. action" they also increased U.N. duties. He was certain, he added, that the states which favored the Security Council's action, many of which had troops in the Congo, would realize the necessity of strengthening the U.N. force "by further generous contributions." India, Malaya and others had already signified they might help. It seemed that on this occasion the Soviet Union had overplayed its hand.
Without losing a day Mr. Khrushchev returned to the attack. In a letter to Prime Minister Nehru and others he proposed that an all-African commission take over in the Congo, in coöperation with the "legitimate" Gizenga government in Stanleyville. This went a recent proposal by President Nkrumah one better, for the Ghana leader's suggestion had been simply to place the Asian and African forces in the Congo under an all-African U.N. command. Mr. Khrushchev meant to rule the U.N. out of the Congo entirely. Just how the commission was to finance and munition its troops was not clear. Would the money and supplies come from the Soviet Union? The Soviets have refused to contribute a ruble toward the cost of the Congo operation, which has been borne by the other U.N. members, chiefly, it must be said, by the United States. They also have refused to share in the cost of the two other main U.N. undertakings--care of the Arab refugees from Palestine and maintenance of the U.N. Emergency Force in the Middle East. Together the costs of the three undertakings amount to several times the normal U.N. budget. The refusal of the Soviet Union to pay its share saves its money. More important in its eyes, it enables Soviet propagandists to argue that the operations themselves are "imperialist plots." The proof? Simply that the "imperialists" have been left to pay for them.
It remains to be seen, as these lines are written, what the effect of this manœuvring might be. Recent events had shocked many hitherto uncertain Asian and African states into a new sense of responsibility. How much of it would carry over into the General Assembly? Would it prevent the Soviets from putting together a large enough group of unaligned states to hold up the work of the United Nations to the point where Mr. Hammarskjold might feel impelled to resign? In earlier U.N. crises he had been willing to take on responsibilities which stronger collective shoulders should have been prepared to bear, but were not. In carrying them out he had often been subjected to criticism. But not even Britain or France at the time of Suez had said he was animated by prejudice. Now the Soviets had been so outraged by his impartiality in the Congo crisis that they promised to destroy both him and his office. He himself said he was conscious of having made some errors of judgment; perhaps they have been magnified in retrospect, but they did cause some of his losses of African support. How much following would the Soviets now be able to drum up in the attempt to sweep him out of their path? They were not able on September 20 of last year to get the General Assembly to repudiate him, but with the aid of unaligned states they prevented the formation of a majority to approve him. They failed in the effort to have the Security Council censor him on February 21, and instead saw it confirm its earlier instructions to him. Certainly the attack on him, and through him on the United Nations, will continue--in this session of the General Assembly, and if turned back there, in the General Assembly next fall, and relentlessly thereafter. For the moment, the omens are in his favor. While the Soviet Union tries, and tries again, he is not likely to give way in dismay. His future is now bound up with the future of the organization he serves, and for its sake he will not fail to fight.
All the problems touched on in these pages face the United States delegation in one form or another at this moment, or will do so before the end of the year. Some raise questions of principle, some of tactics, some of both. Where the integrity of the United Nations is at stake its position will undoubtedly be stonily firm. Where questions of general policy are involved its attitude may succeed in being less doctrinaire than it sometimes has seemed in the past.
On colonial issues, for example, the United States may take fresh account of the fact that by virtue of the speed with which former colonial empires have been disintegrating, and because of the volume of new admissions to the United Nations, the issues that remain cannot be viewed solely within the framework of traditional political relationships. The world-wide impulse toward independence for everyone, ready or not, has gained such momentum that though it may be influenced by arguments of reason, and assisted by prompt material aid for new nations as they emerge on the international scene, it cannot be thwarted except by incurring greater risks than those involved in accepting it and working with it. We have every duty to advise delay when a rush toward unprepared independence is going to result in chaos and suffering for the people concerned or the establishment of a new form of colonial domination, or first one and then the other. But in viewing the issue of colonialism as such, that is, in general terms, we should be able to put ourselves on the side of independence more clearly than we have done so far. The temptation to let our sentiment and our traditions determine our action was very strong, one hears, at the time the Declaration on Colonialism was coming up to a vote in the General Assembly last December. The Soviet Union had proposed a Declaration of its own, couched in extravagant terms; and it offered two amendments to the Declaration as adopted that would have set an immediate deadline for the fulfillment of the most extravagant hopes, besides raising innumerable difficulties in execution that could not have been solved and were not intended to be. The Soviet Union lost on both points. But when the United States abstained, the sting of the Soviet defeat was removed. What the African and Asian world remembered was that on the general anti-colonialist issue the United States had not supported them. The objections to certain passages in the text were not insignificant; but in retrospect we see that the purport of the Declaration was more significant than individual phrases.
In several matters of less scope but hardly less consequence the United States position should be unyielding. It must use all its resources to defeat the Soviet effort to replace the Secretary-General by a three-man directorate or to destroy his effectiveness by encumbering him with an Advisory Committee. It must continue to press for giving the Asian and African states adequate representation on the Security Council and the Economic and Social Council. If its proposal to enlarge the Councils to match the growing membership of the United Nations is adopted, the Soviet delegation, if it is as good as its word, will have the happy task of slapping down the hopes of the nations which it has been cultivating so assiduously.
Mr. Khrushchev coupled his demand to abolish the Secretary-Generalship with complaints that the Soviet Union, like many of the new states in Asia and Africa, was inadequately represented in the Secretariat. His protest was based on the undisputed fact that the number of Soviet officials having professional rank is not proportionate to the Soviet financial contribution to the organization. The stipulations that must guide the Secretary-General in selecting his staff are laid down in the Charter; his "paramount consideration" shall be to secure a staff with "the highest standards of efficiency, competence, and integrity," and he also shall pay "due regard" to recruiting it "on as wide a geographical basis as possible." Mr. Hammarskjold has faced a difficulty in observing the stipulated "paramount consideration" when he has tried to enlist citizens of Communist countries. A Communist is by definition devoted exclusively to the interests of the Communist Party and the government which the Party controls; that is, he is precluded from becoming what the United Nations needs and wants, a true international civil servant. The difficulty has been increased by the Soviet Government's insistence that when the Secretary-General wishes to recruit Russian citizens he must simply accept the candidates which it names. Evidently the Secretary-General must continue his effort to solve this problem. The United States should support him in refusing to accept arbitrarily nominated candidates, dedicated to serving national aims that conflict with the international aims of the United Nations.
The Secretary-General has had less trouble, of course, in recruiting qualified officials in Asian countries where there is a civil service tradition. Three or four Indians, as well as Iranians, Burmese and others, fill high U.N. posts in New York and in the field with high distinction. The number of Asian countries supplying U.N. personnel must nevertheless be increased, not to lessen Asian support for Soviet proposals but because it is fair and proper in itself, and indeed overdue. The Secretary-General is known to want to appoint a qualified African as Under-Secretary if one can be found who is not so desperately needed at home that his government can spare him. In these projects he is sure of American support.
To work seriously and successfully through the United Nations we must not expect that the majority will always be on our side. But whenever possible we must have a side for the majority to be on. In his first press conference, Secretary of State Rusk said, apropos of the Congo: "It would not be correct to say that we have proposed an American plan. What is needed is a United Nations plan . . . . " He very likely was right not to reveal the existence of an American plan at that moment. But as a general rule the emphasis should be in the opposite sense. More specific U.S. policies have been needed in the U.N. in the past, and will always be needed if we are to show the way and win majority support. Most of all, of course, we want to have the majority on our side on important issues. As a matter of pure tactics, we should avoid making every issue seem important to us. Where we have no direct stake we can afford to be relaxed and let events take their course. The less we engage our prestige on secondary issues, and the less we ask our friends to engage theirs, the fewer will be the occasions when we may be defeated and the more support we shall have when we need it and set out in earnest to rally it. It is not at all impossible to build majorities in the General Assembly if we follow this pattern and take time to negotiate painstakingly for acceptable compromises. It is harder to do so successfully than it was before a nucleus of the supposedly unaligned states became habitual supporters of the Soviet view. But the attempt must be made and presevered in.
Dynamism is a key element in successful parliamentary manœuvring. An example of when the American delegation should have seized the initiative was the moment following President Eisenhower's speech in the General Assembly proposing increased aid for underdeveloped countries. The proposals were not presented in detail; but that was all the more reason why they should have been "worked up" and put forward for debate. The United States delegation never made any attempt to do so. It was a pity, for the sake of the proposals themselves and because the Soviets would have been hard put to oppose them without alienating the Asians and Africans.
Successful leadership is not domineering. Its keys are consultation and persuasion. In the past the American delegation has sometimes been criticized for failing to consult fully with allies and neutrals. Often the fault has been in the White House or the State Department, where decisions were delayed and instructions withheld till the eleventh hour. The delegation then had no time to explain the American position at length, and the requests for support which it hastily sent out were so urgent that they sounded peremptory and as though they took the recipient's vote for granted. That is not leadership.
In the best sense, moreover, leadership is not provided just in formal speeches and committee debates or in lobbying for votes in the corridors; it is exercised by all the members of a delegation, informally and in a friendly spirit, inside and outside U.N. head-quarters. Congress has made such parsimonious provision for American delegation members that it has foreclosed any really adequate performance of the hospitality functions which the United States as the host country might be expected to fulfill naturally and gladly. Social activities may not seem worth mentioning in the present context; in all earnestness, they deserve to receive much more attention than they have in the past, especially since many delegates who find themselves in strange surroundings will be as grateful for friendship and guidance as they will resent being ignored, particularly if they have reasons to imagine that this may be because of their color.
The over-all American performance in U.N. committees will depend not on the competence of the Permanent Mission alone, but on the quality of the delegations appointed each autumn to the General Assemblies. In recent years, some members of these annual delegations were wholly inexperienced in the sort of tasks they were invited to undertake. Race, color, religion, sex and party do not, by themselves, constitute qualifications for helping the Permanent Representative and his associates negotiate on some of the most difficult and important problems in the world.
President Eisenhower opened a new discussion of neutrality on June 6, 1956, when he remarked in a press conference that a nation has the right to be neutral and that a decision to keep clear of military alliances may in some circumstances even be prudent. Not long thereafter the State Department came to accept the thesis that present-day neutrality is something different from what the term had traditionally meant in textbooks of international law, that it is a political expedient, that (as the present writer once wrote in these pages) "it is a jumble of wishful, hopeful, opportunistic but not necessarily unfriendly propositions." It became established policy in Washington that provided neutrality was not in fact unfriendly, provided, that is, it was practiced sincerely, it was enough that a neutral nation was not militarily aligned against the United States for it to have American friendship and qualify for American aid.
We are now entering a new period of international negotiation. The political and psychological aspects of the world's major problems, including disarmament itself, are more important than those that are strictly military. When each principal antagonist can destroy the other, and be destroyed, the relatively small additions of military strength which a neutralist nation might bring to one side or the other cannot be decisive; what matters is its political weight in the world forum where its vote counts equally with the vote of any of the larger powers. Perhaps the United States will not be able to continue accepting indefinitely the statement of certain nations that their neutrality is simonpure simply because in a formal sense they are militarily unaligned. Not long ago Mr. Nasser boasted that the last 14 votes cast by the United Arab Republic in the United Nations had all been with the Soviet Union and "not once with the Americans." Does the boast sound like that of a sincerely "uncommitted" leader of a sincerely "unaligned" nation? To be 100 percent pro-Soviet in foreign policy and 100 percent anti-Communist in domestic policy does not equal neutrality.
The United States has counted on the United Nations as the chief instrumentality existing in the world (apart from its own military strength and that of its allies) to deter aggression. It has hoped that by acting to settle disputes in different parts of the world the United Nations would lessen the chance that the United States might become involved in them directly, and it considered this a substantial contribution not only to world peace but to American security. If the political weight of a growing number of nations were to be almost automatically thrown against American efforts to keep the United Nations in effective operation, this would be seriously damaging to the American interest. Their votes might delay or defeat resolute action by the General Assembly in a moment of extreme danger; and more immediately they would be assisting those members of the United Nations which are out to weaken or destroy it. Because of the political balance which the unaligned states hold in the United Nations their actions there become a principal criterion by which the United States must judge whether the neutrality of each one of them is sincere. It has no right to expect more from them than independence of mind on the issues of the day; it will find it increasingly hard to accept what consistently seems to be less.
[i] A Charter amendment adopted by a two-thirds vote in the General Assembly must be ratified individually by two-thirds of the members of the United Nations, including all the permanent members of the Security Council.
[ii] As the question was procedural, a simple majority was sufficient. Of the African states, Dahomey was the only one to vote against the motion, while Gabon abstained. Japan, China and Turkey also abstained.
[iii] The resolution was adopted November 3, 1951, by a vote of 52 to 5; only the Soviet bloc opposed it and only India and Argentina abstained. As early as 1947 the present writer made a somewhat similar proposal to strengthen collective security through a protocol to be signed by all members wishing to do so. It would provide for collective resistance to armed attack if two-thirds of the signatories so decided and if the Security Council failed to act ("The Calculated Risk," New York, Macmillan, 1947). Authority for the procedure was found in Article 51 of the Charter, reserving the right of individual states or groups of states to resist armed attack. Senator Vandenberg endorsed the proposal (New York Times, October 6, 1947). The same basis served later for NATO and other regional defense organizations.
[iv] In 1959 and 1960 Jugoslavia provided credits to Ethiopia, Guinea, Liberia, Morocco and the Sudan for the purchase of Jugoslav goods or services. A trade agreement was also signed with Tunisia and trade negotiations were opened with Ghana and the U.A.R.