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Beneath Berliners' skepticism and grumbling lies a profound conviction, born of intimate acquaintance with tyranny, that liberty is a highly tangible good that is worth a considerable price. In pursuit of that good, postwar Berliners have demonstrated their political maturity by choosing leaders of rare sophistication, ability and high principle. When the Berlin blockade struck in 1948, West Berlin rallied behind the late great Mayor Ernst Reuter (TIME, Sept. 18, 1950), a tough, aristocratic Socialist with a deeply etched face, who fought Communism with the scornful courage of a man who had known it from the inside. And when Nikita Khrushchev touched off the second Berlin crisis last November, the city was in the hands of a man who may one day loom even larger in German history than Reuter—magnetic, hard-driving Willy Brandt.
The Tailored Socialist. A meticulous dresser with a penchant for vests—his opponents call him "the Socialist in the tailored suit"—Brandt has a tousled, bear-like charm that reminds some U.S. acquaintances of Wendell Willkie. An intense man of vast nervous energy, Willy is fundamentally so reserved that people who have known him for years argue that he has no true intimates outside his immediate family. But his quick humor and casual, common touch have given most West Berliners a sense of personal friendship with their mayor, and a proprietary interest in all his affairs. Where Ernst Reuter, the well-born Prussian, invariably got a respectful tip of the hat, ordinary Berliners hail Brandt with the familiar greeting, " 'n Abend, Willy."
Politically as well as personally, Willy fits no standard pattern. Keenly aware that he has an international responsibility, Willy keeps on good terms with his avowed political opponent, Christian Democrat Konrad Adenauer. And though Willy never directly attacks the dreamily neutralist foreign policy espoused by his "superiors" in the Socialist Party, he blithely ignores it by declaring: "We cannot with clear conscience accept any East-West solutions that would weaken the overall Western position."
No More Banners. In public, Willy's relations with West German Socialist Boss Erich Ollenhauer are polite. But pudgy, ineffectual Ollenhauer recognizes in Willy an increasingly dangerous contender for party leadership. Last winter, when an excited aide burst into Ollenhauer's Bonn office to report that Willy had led West Berlin Socialists to a smashing electoral victory, Ollenhauer growled: "What's so wonderful about that?"
The conflict between Willy and Ollenhauer is also an ideological conflict between two generations of Socialists. Many of the party's senior bureaucrats cling to the gospel according to Karl Marx, still talk wistfully of a "state-guided economy." They have lost the last three national elections. Willy argues that "the magic word 'nationalization' is no longer justified. The problem is how . . . private and public capital are to be harmonized." If German Socialism is to get more than its immovable 30% of the votes, he insists, "it must have a wider base than a single class," must become less doctrinaire to win middle-class appeal. "Let's not start making any new red banners," he says. "It's not the fashion nowadays."