In different ways, some of the world's most colorful leaders last week were coping with the central dilemmas of their trade: once having gained power, how to hold on to it—and how to yield it gracefully. Sweden's Olof Palme, in a poor showing at the polls, managed to hang on to it; Yugoslavia's Josip Broz Tito, after a remarkably long run of 25 years in full control, took the first steps toward relinquishing it; and Malaysia's Tunku Abdul Rahman did the hardest thing of all: he gave it up of his own accord.
Together Again
For all their sophistication, Swedes seem to prefer politicians with a down-home touch. Tage Erlander, a big, shambling, avuncular sort, who retired as Prime Minister in 1969 after 23 years on the job, was perfectly typecast. But Erlander's hand-picked successor—Olof Palme, 43, a sophisticated aristocrat—was a far cry from that grass-roots stereotype. "Palme doesn't even look like a Swede," says one of his friends. "He's not tall, not blond. He's smart and he shows it. Will this go down with the Swedes? Will they take this international character, not the provincial Swedish politician of the old type?"
In parliamentary elections last week, voters took Palme—but with some reservations. Gathering 46% of the total vote and 166 seats, Palme's Social Democrats lost their absolute majority in the 350-seat Riksdag.* What is more, they will be forced to rely for support on the Communist Party, whose vote spurted from a post-Czechoslovakia low of 3% in 1968 elections to 4.9% this time out. With 17 seats, the Communists hold the balance of power.
Troubles Ahead. These have been exceedingly lean times lately for European socialist parties. The French and Italian parties are in bad shape. Social Democratic governments have fallen in Norway and Denmark, as has the Labor government in Britain. Though Sweden's Social Democrats are rounding out nearly four decades in power—a political survival record unequaled in the Western world—the election signaled difficulties ahead.
The reasons for the Social Democrats' loss of strength were plain enough. Sweden's brand of state-supervised capitalism has given the country Europe's highest per capita Gross National Product in 1968 ($3,230 v. $4,305 in the U.S.), shortest factory hours (35.4 per week) and highest retirement pensions (two-thirds of peak earnings). Despite those pluses, the country has a ringingly familiar list of social complaints.
Inflation has sent the cost of living soaring by nearly 5% since January. Beefsteak sells for $2 a pound, eggs 90¢ a dozen, cigarettes $1 a pack, and whisky $11 a fifth. Waiting lists for housing are years long. Taxes are sky-high and inching still higher; an across-the-board sales tax covering everything from food to services will rise by a third to a dizzying 16.5% next January. The once pristine countryside is being polluted, jobs are disappearing because of mechanization and there is a growing law-and-order problem.