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A tall man with a weathered, homely face, in which there was the visible touch of greatness, stepped briskly down the ramp of the plane from China. Three months, almost to the hour, after he had left for Chungking, U.S. Special Envoy George Catlett Marshall was back in Washington. He had time for a broad, boyish grin and two kisses for his waiting wife, quick handshakes for a cluster of welcoming dignitaries. Then he hurried away, in a long black Packard, to report to the White House on the most significant mission undertaken by a U.S. citizen since the end of World War II.
He had found a nation of 450 million war-sick people on the verge of civil war; he had left it not at peace, but in truce and hope. For his part in that rescue the Chinese could—and warmly did—thank him. The U.S. and the world could thank George Marshall for an even more important service. For the first time in a major postwar issue, the power, prestige and principles of U.S. democracy had been brought to bear in constructive, positive fashion.
Danger Ahead. Everywhere else democracy and U.S. policy were on the defensive or in a frustrated deadlock with their enemies. Eastern Europe was closed to U.S. influence. Occupied Germany was a deepening morass of four-power conflict. France, Italy, The Netherlands and Belgium were allowed to drift through a year of chaotic "peace." Spain was an embarrassing problem. Even U.S.-British relations had soured over the bungled preparations for the British loan. In the Americas, Perón prospered on Washington's opposition. In southeast Asia and Indonesia, restless peoples, driving for freedom, were losing faith in a U.S. which appeared only as an associate of their masters. Russian power waxed, but not all the reasons were to be found in Moscow.
Had the U.S. failed to move affirmatively and effectively in China, the world could only have come to the disillusioning conclusion that U.S. democracy was not an exportable commodity.
Marshall was well aware of the danger. In a valedictory message as Army Chief of Staff last October, he asked: "Are we already shirking the responsibility of victory? . . . Are we inviting the same international disrespect that prevailed before this war?" He had given his rhetorical question a ringing answer: "We must not waste the victory. ..."
Challenge Ahead. No single mancertainly no foreigner—could have preserved the victory in China. The Chinese masses passionately wanted what U.S. policy wanted for China: a strong, independent, unified, democratic nation. This intense popular demand restrained Chinese Communist intransigence and gave Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek a chance to set in motion the machinery of political reconstruction. But China needed outside help—guidance, mediation and the confidence of a strong friend who would not exact a price by undermining Chinese independence. For three months Marshall had filled the role of the strong friend. The morning after his arrival in Washington he reported to a press conference what had been accomplished—with scarcely a word of his own part in it: