Part 7 (2/2)

aWas it the danger of the Western response?a he asked.

Lord Home said he thought Khrushchev awouldnat lay off much longer.a Amba.s.sador Charles E. aChipa Bohlen agreed. The State Departmentas leading Soviet specialist, who had been amba.s.sador to Moscow from 1953 to 1957, believed the rising Chinese challenge and astrong importunities from the East Germansa were forcing Khrushchev into a more militant position. It wasnat that the Soviets cared so much about Berlin, Bohlen insisted, but that they had concluded its loss could lead to the unraveling of their entire Eastern empire.

Kennedy brought the discussion back to Achesonas paper. If Khrushchev had been contained by the threat of a military confrontation with the West, Kennedy said, awe should consider how to build up this threat. On Berlin, we have no bargaining position. Thus we ought to consider, as Mr. Acheson suggested yesterday, how to put the issue to Khrushchev as bluntly as possible.a With the return of Achesonas ghost, the group gamed Khrushchevas next likely move and the Westas potential response. The British didnat see how talks could be avoided, while most of the U.S. contingent doubted their utility. Kennedyas amba.s.sador to the United Kingdom, David Bruce, a former intelligence officer who had been Eisenhoweras amba.s.sador to West Germany, said that the United States could not cede its few remaining rights in Berlin. aWe cannot disregard the consequences that would flow in Central Europe and in West Germany from weakening on Berlin,a he said.

As his meetings with Kennedy neared an end, Macmillan was dissatisfied. He still did not know, he said, at what point the West awould breaka and take action against Russian moves on Berlin. Without such a clear line, he feared that Kennedy could be drawn into a war he didnat want, over far too little causea”and might then drag Britain into the hostilities.

Differing with Acheson, Kennedy responded that he believed it was the nuclear deterrent effect that akeeps the Communists from engaging us in a major struggle on Berlin.a Thus, he said, it was necessary to keep the fact of that deterrent awell forward.a Macmillan, however, wondered what would happen in West Germany after Adenauer dieda”whether the Berlin game might be lost to the Soviets under a less resolute leader. aSooner or later, say in five or ten years, the Russians might try to offer the West Germans unity in return for neutrality,a he ventured, repeating Britainas stubborn doubts about German reliability.

Bohlen told Macmillan that he thought the time was past when West Germans would take athe bait of neutrality.a The Soviets as well, he said, could no longer afford to let socialism go down the drain in East Germany. Bruce argued that the larger issue for the moment was that East German refugees were aweakening all that goes to make up the normal life of a state,a with 200,000 leaving in 1960, and some 70 percent of those from vital age groups.

A final internal memorandum on the meeting papered over the two sidesa dispute. It noted that both the U.S. and the UK expected an escalation of the Berlin Crisis in 1961, that they agreed the loss of West Berlin would be catastrophic, and that they believed the Allies needed to make clearer their seriousness over Berlin to the Soviets. The doc.u.ment also called for intensified planning of military contingencies.

In the brisk spring suns.h.i.+ne of the White House Rose Garden, Kennedy stood by Macmillan and read a one-page joint statement that spoke of a avery high level of agreement on our estimate of the nature of the problems which we face.a It glossed over the considerable disagreements with mushy language, saying that the two men agreed on athe importance and the difficulty of working toward satisfactory relations with the Soviet Union.a Macmillan had achieved little with Kennedy. What he gained was that Kennedy had endorsed Britainas efforts to join the Common Market as part of his aGrand Design,a a crucial voice of support given French opposition. The two men also had further built a personal bond through two long, private talks.

Despite that, Macmillan had failed in many of his most important aims. Kennedy had opposed Britainas efforts to get China into the United Nations, and had made it clear that, unlike Eisenhower, he did not intend to use Macmillan as an intermediary with Moscow. Most important, the Americans planned to convene a summit with a Soviet leader for the first time on European territory without inviting their British or French allies to partic.i.p.ate. It seemed Kennedy had clearly bought Achesonas line that London was too soft on Berlin.

British officials surprised the Americans by leaking to their home press that the Kennedya”Macmillan talks were arough, touchy,a in many ways inconclusive, and certainly more difficult than the communiqu suggested.

And much worse was to follow.

8.

AMATEUR HOUR.

The European view was that they were watching a gifted young amateur practice with a boomerang, when they saw, to their horror, that he had knocked himself out. They were amazed that so inexperienced a person should play with so lethal a weapon.

Dean Acheson on President Kennedyas handling of the Bay of Pigs debacle, June 1961 I donat understand Kennedy. Can he really be that indecisive?

Premier Khrushchev to his son Sergei after the Bay of Pigs THE WHITE HOUSE, WAs.h.i.+NGTON, D.C.

FRIDAY, APRIL 7, 1961.

It was Was.h.i.+ngtonas first warm spring day, the perfect temperature for President Kennedyas walk through the White House Rose Garden with Dean Acheson. Kennedy had suggested the stroll, explaining to Acheson that he sought urgent advice. Though Kennedy was in s.h.i.+rtsleeves, Acheson remained his usual formal self in jacket and bow tie. In his only compromise with the weather, Acheson removed his bowler hat and carried it under his arm.

Trumanas former secretary of state expected Kennedy to quiz him on his ongoing NATO or Berlin projects, as he was leaving the next day for Europe to brief the Allies on his progress. Instead, Kennedy said he had another, more pressing matter in mind. aCome on out here in the garden and sit in the sun,a the president said, directing Acheson to a wooden bench, then settling down beside him. aDo you know anything about this Cuba proposal?a Acheson conceded he did not even know there was a Cuba proposal.

So Kennedy sketched out the plan that he said he was considering. A force of 1,200 to 1,500 Cuban exilesa”soldiers who had been trained by the CIA in Guatemalaa”would invade the island. They would be supported by the air cover of B-26 bombers, also flown by exiles. The idea was that once the exiled Cubans established a beachhead, as many as 7,000 insurgents and other Castro opponents already on the island would rise up in revolt. Without requiring the use of American troops or aircraft, the U.S. would remove Fidel Castro from power and replace him with a friendly regime. The plan had been hatched by the Eisenhower administration, but it had been revised in Kennedyas early weeks. It was supported throughout by U.S. intelligence equipment, trainers, and planners.

Acheson did not hide his alarm. He said that he hoped the president wasnat serious about such a crazy scheme.

aI donat know if Iam serious or not,a Kennedy said. aBut this is the proposal and Iave been thinking about it, and it is serious in that sense. Iave not made up my mind but Iam giving it very serious thought.a In truth, the president had already given the plan his go-ahead almost a month earlier, on March 11, 1961. He had signed off on the last details on April 5, just two days before his conversation with Acheson. He had altered only two important aspects, having moved the landing place to allow for a less spectacular invasion, and ensuring that there was a suitable airfield nearby for tactical air support. Otherwise, aOperation Mongoosea was much the plan that the Eisenhower administration had pa.s.sed down to Kennedy.

Acheson said he would not aneed to phone Price Waterhousea to determine that Kennedyas 1,500 Cubans were no match for Castroas 25,000 Cubans. He told Kennedy such an invasion could have disastrous consequences for Americaas prestige in Europe and for relations with the Soviets over Berlin, where they likely would respond with their own aggression.

Yet it was precisely because of Berlin that Kennedy wanted there to be no obviously American a.s.sets involved. He wanted to avoid giving the Soviets any pretext to do something similarly disruptive in Berlin.

The two men talked awkwardly for a little longer before Acheson left the Rose Garden without having exchanged a word with the president about anything other than Cuba. As he left for Europe, Acheson dismissed the Cuban matter from his mind, as ait seemed like such a wild idea.a He was confident wiser minds would prevail.

RHONDORF, WEST GERMANY.

SUNDAY, APRIL 9, 1961.

West German Chancellor Konrad Adenaueras concerns about how to manage his relations.h.i.+p with Kennedy had grown so great that he summoned his friend Dean Acheson to meet with him in Bonn to talk strategy before his visit to the U.S. a few days later.

Legions of Germans were out for Sunday walks on pathways under the flowering fruit trees beside the Rhine River as Adenauer, in a less leisurely manner, sped by them with Acheson in his Mercedes from the airport to his home. The chancellor savored high-speed drives in the well-engineered German cars that had become such an export hit, and Acheson held tightly to his seat as Adenaueras driver accelerated to keep pace with a lead jeep.

A soldier sat in the jeepas open back, providing directions with outstretched paddles. If the soldier extended a paddle out to his right, it was a sign to Adenaueras driver that he was going to pa.s.s traffic by driving up over the sidewalk. If he pointed one up to the left, it meant the driver would scatter oncoming traffic as he pa.s.sed to that side. Acheson smiled grimly at Adenauer and noticed that athe old man was just having a wonderful time.a A small group of Adenaueras neighbors had gathered to applaud the legendary political coupleas arrival at the chancelloras home in the Rhine-side village of Rhndorf. The eighty-five-year-old Adenauer looked to the zigzag stairway heading up the hill about a hundred feet from the street to his door and said to his sixty-seven-year-old guest, aMy friend, you are not as youthful as you were the first time we met, and I must urge you not to take these steps too fast.a aThank you very much, Mr. Chancellor,a Acheson replied, smiling. aIf I find myself wearying, may I take your arm?a Adenauer chuckled. aAre you teasing me?a aI wouldnat think of doing so.a Acheson smiled. The good-natured banter was an elixir for Adenaueras troubled spirit.

Acheson spent much of the day calming an Adenauer whom he found aworried to deatha”just completely worrieda about Kennedy. Adenaueras greatest concern was that Kennedy was scheming to make a peace deal behind his back with the Russians on any number of issues that would sell out German interests and abandon Berliners. He worried as well about the rise of a new hostility among Americans toward Germans after years of postwar healing, inflamed by the shocking revelations of William s.h.i.+reras newly published book, The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich, and the imminent trial of n.a.z.i war criminal Adolf Eichmann in Israel.

Beyond that, Adenauer said, he was disturbed by reports that the Kennedy administration was s.h.i.+fting its deterrence strategy from its overwhelming reliance on nuclear weapons to the relatively new notion of aflexible response.a That would involve a greater emphasis on conventional weaponry in all military contingencies regarding Berlin. Though such a policy change could have significant impact on West German security, the Kennedy administration had neither consulted nor briefed Adenauer or other West German counterparts.

As he argued against the new strategy, what Adenauer didnat realize was that Acheson was one of its leading proponents and architects. Adenauer was convinced the West could only contain Moscow if Khrushchev was certain a Soviet move on Berlin would prompt a devastating U.S. nuclear response. He feared that Moscow would regard any change in the U.S. approach as an invitation to test Was.h.i.+ngtonas resolve. Though he did not say so to Adenauer that day, Acheson disagreed because he doubted any U.S. president would ever risk millions of American lives for Berlina”and he reckoned Khrushchev knew that as well.

So Acheson instead focused his efforts on rea.s.suring Adenauer that Kennedy was as determined as his predecessors had been to defend West German and West Berlin freedoms. Acheson briefed Adenauer in some detail on the Kennedy administrationas military contingency planning regarding Berlin and on Kennedyas own skepticism about Russian intentions.

Adenauer sighed with satisfaction. aYou have lifted a stone from my heart.a But at the same time, Acheson had to disappoint the chancellor about one of his fondest dreams. For the moment, Kennedy had rejected the plan considered by Eisenhower to place a fleet of U.S. Polaris missile submarines under NATO control, thus making the alliance a fourth nuclear power. The U.S., Britain, and France would keep their monopoly. Instead, Kennedy would put five or more Polaris submarines at the disposal of NATO, but under U.S. fleet commanders, and with caveats on their use so restrictive and the process of using them so complicated that it would fail to satisfy Adenaueras desire for a more easily accessible nuclear deterrent.

In short, Kennedyas evolving view toward handling Berlin military contingenciesa”reflected in KGB reports at the time from Paris and elsewherea”was that he wanted to ensure that any Berlin conflict remained local in character and would not escalate into a world war. That required not only backing off American reliance on nuclear arms in any Berlin confrontation, but also opposing the notion of NATO possession of atomic weapons.

Adenauer closed the day in typical fas.h.i.+on, inviting his guest to the rose garden to play the Italian bowling game of bocce. Removing his jacket but leaving on his tie, with sleeves rolled down, Adenauer looked disarmingly formal as he began the precision throwing game by tossing the smaller ajacka ball forward, then following it with larger b.a.l.l.s, the goal being to land closest to the initial throw.

When Acheson was near victory, the chancellor changed the rules and began to carom shots off the sideboards.

At Achesonas protests, Adenauer smiled: aYou are now in Germanya”in Germany I make the rules.a Acheson smiled, knowing his mission had achieved its aim. He had reduced Adenaueras alarm over Kennedy, he had predelivered whatever disappointing news Adenauer would get in Was.h.i.+ngton in a more palatable manner, and he had set a more promising tone for the first Adenauera”Kennedy meeting.

What Acheson couldnat control were two events that would overshadow Adenaueras visit: a historic Soviet s.p.a.ce shot and the U.S. debacle in Cuba.

PITSUNDA PENINSULA, SOVIET UNION.

TUESDAY, APRIL 11, 1961.

On the day of Adenaueras flight to Was.h.i.+ngton, Khrushchev was in retreat at his villa in Sochi, on the Pitsunda Peninsula of the Black Seaas eastern coast, where he was resting and receiving regular updates on the Soviet plans to put the first man in s.p.a.ce the following morning. He had also begun preparations for the 22nd Communist Party Congress in October.

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