FOREIGN RELATIONS
Yugoslavia's Communist President Tito has long hankered to tread Washington's official red carpet. He almost got there as Eisenhower's guest in 1957, but church groups, veterans' organizations and politicians raised such a fuss that his proposed state visit was called off. He got as far as Manhattan in 1960, when he addressed the United Nations and chatted with Ike at the Waldorf-Astoria. But still nobody asked him to come on down to Washington—and Tito's feelings were hurt. Last week, at the invitation of President Kennedy, Tito, 71, finally made the grade.
Kennedy was anxious to shore up Yugoslavia's status as a "neutral," seemingly dissident Communist country. But to protect his own domestic political position, the President arranged a welcome that was courteous, correct—and about as cold as a stripper in a snowstorm.
When the news of Tito's visit was released, there were predictable protests. In California, a scheduled stopover on Tito's ten-day itinerary, demonstrators hanged him in effigy from trees, fences and buildings, even drowned him in effigy at a ferry terminal in San Pedro. In the Senate, Democrats Frank Lausche of Ohio and Tom Dodd of Connecticut blasted the visit, and Barry Goldwater, referring to the White House boycott of South Viet Nam's Mme. Ngo Dinh Nhu (see following story), complained: "We are dining with our enemy and slapping our friends in the face."
But the reaction was nowhere near as violent as it had been in 1951, and so the state visit was consummated. Fresh from a month-long tour of Brazil, Chile, Bolivia and Mexico, Tito flew into Virginia's Langley Air Force Base a full hour ahead of schedule. It was not that he was overanxious—just that he was operating on Standard Time instead of Daylight-Saving Time. From Langley, Tito and his statuesque wife Jovanka, 39, drove to colonial Williamsburg and spent 30 minutes touring the town that the Rockefellers restored to 18th century authenticity at an expense of $72 million. Their home for the night was Williamsburg's 200-year-old Allen-Byrd House.
By the Book. The following morning a jet-powered helicopter zipped the visitors to Washington, but had to spend several minutes circling the Washington Monument because they had arrived too early. Below, 100 Serbs and Croatians from points as distant as Detroit and Chicago picketed the White House, carrying placards inscribed,
MURDERER, RED PIG and J.F.K., DON'T SHAKE HANDS WITH THE KILLER.
J.F.K. did shake hands, but he saw to it that no cameraman recorded the event. Even the customary rocking-chair photos were ruled out in favor of a stiff shot of Kennedy and Tito facing each other across a conference table. Everything was done according to the book, from the traditional 21-gun salute to a luncheon for 59 guests at the White House—but without notable enthusiasm. After lunch, Tito and Jovanka took in Washington's sights, but the route of their ten-limousine motorcade was kept so secret—to avoid demonstrations-that puzzled pedestrians along the way asked, "Who is it?" No Yugoslav flags decorated the thoroughfares—only some Irish banners left over from Prime Minister Sean Lemass' visit earlier in the week.