As usual, the headlines out of Berlin were dramatic—an American commandant held up at the East-West frontier; a Soviet jeep chased by U.S. troops in retaliation. General Lucius Clay, the President's special representative in Berlin, flew to Washington to demand that the local commander get more freedom to slug back at Communist provocations, unhampered by "contingency plans" requiring a check with Washington before action.
But the big news came in Washington, where Secretary of State Dean Rusk was proposing a change in U.S. policy. After all the talk of a new Berlin agreement, the U.S. seemed, in effect, ready to settle for the status quo—including the Wall. In exchange, the U.S. expected Nikita Khrushchev to relax some of his pressure on Berlin, agree informally to a modus vivendi that would leave Western rights in the city undisturbed.
First hints of the new line went out to Moscow via the shrewd, cautious U.S. Ambassador in Moscow, Llewellyn E. Thompson. Donning his karakul hat, Thompson paid a call on Soviet Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko. His task was once again to probeMoscow's intentions. After 2-½ hours of cautious verbal fencing, Gromyko still wanted to talk only about getting Western troops out of Berlin, offered no hint whatsoever of any Russian concessions. "It was agreed that the discussions will be continued," Thompson announced carefully.
If this indeed signaled a "standstill" in Berlin, it meant, at best, that the West was postponing a crisis that Moscow can reopen at any time. Moscow might be agreeable, since continued uncertainty would be a serious strain on West Berlin's morale. Dean Rusk was aware of this. But he was apparently determined to find a device that would permit both sides to back away from a crisis that had moved too close to flashpoint.
Two other touchy areas kept U.S. diplomacy busy last week:
Congo. The tenacity of able U.S. Ambassador Edmund Gullion in Leopoldville helped bring Katanga's stubborn Moise Tshombe and Central Congolese Premier Cyrille Adoula together in a pact at Kitona (TIME, Dec. 29). Now the problem was to enforce the pact, and to bring Tshombe's secessionist province back into a unified Congo. Last week, as promised, Tshombe sent Katanga delegates to Leopoldville to sit with Adoula's commission in drafting revisions for the Congolese constitution. Other omens were less favorable. In Elisabethville, Tshombe rose before his provincial assembly to hedge his promises, still holding out for as much autonomy for Katanga as he could wangle. On Washington's orders, more pressure on Tshombe was applied in Brussels, administrative headquarters of the rich Union Miniere du Haut Katanga, which provides Tshombe with most of his revenue. Said a State Department official: "We hope to work something out." By now, Moscow was getting back into the act. When U.S. Air Force planes flew live cattle, food and engineering equipment to help towns along a flooded stretch of the Congo River, Russia kept the Red flag flying by sending in two planeloads of medical supplies and some doctors and nurses.