AT THE LEAGUE'S ASSEMBLY

Evening Star, Issue 18809, 6 December 1924, Page 17

AT THE LEAGUE'S ASSEMBLY

A FEW PORTRAITS. [By E. IT. Baldwin, in New York - 1 Outlook.’] ' A great St. Bernard dog walks slowly 1 and solemnly up and down before the Palais des Nations, where sits the Council i —the Upper House of the League of La; ■ tions. He is a dozen years old or so, and has been on duty here a long time. He is peaceable and friendly, but, ae was sai i of a famous English schoolmaster by nis pupils, ho is a “just beast.” At the meetings of the Assemblv—the Lower House, over in the Salle do la l'Cformalion—the fifty-five member States are represented by several delegates each. Even more than last year and the year before I am impressed by the great variety among the delegates, because there are steadily more ot thm. At our House oi Representatives in Washington we see Yankees contrasted with Southerners and I’ar Westerners with islanders. Here one has the greater variety among Europeans, Canadians and Latin-Americans, Asians and Africans of varying hues. Despite the diversity, there Is a really impre&sivQ atxnosphero of friendliness; never have I seen so much and so constant hand-shaking or so many amicable and even affectionate glances; you might fancy yourself in a veritable mutual admiration society. Like the St. Bernard dog, so all the delegates here at this autumn session of the. Council and the Assembly of the League seem amiably and peacefully disposed; and I hope tliat, as in the case of the dog, the ruling thought hero is justice first, then peace. Among the delegates aro_ half a dozen women—from Groat Britain, Australia, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, RumaniaHowever worthy their heads and hearts, their toilets arc tasteless compared with - the smart attire of the_ ono American j woman of official position in the Assembly to-day. I was surprised to see that ono or more artists had been admitted to the floor and were busily sketching the heads of presumably not unwilling delegates. It was amusing to note that those delegates, especially those of idealistic tendencies, were trying to appear quite unconscious of what was going on. Certainly this por-trait-making innovation did not add to the dignity of what otherwise was a decorous and dignified assemblage. The delegates most quoted Imre happen to bo men all physically small but mentally big—Adnchi,* of Japan; Benes, c. Czecho-Slovakia; Boncour and Briand, of Franco; Hymans, of Belgium; Motta, of Switzerland ; Politis, of Greece. Of these, Eduard Bones, Foreign Minister of Czecho-Slovakia, is the most quoted —indeed, the epoch-making scheme evolved at this year’s meeting of the Assembly is generally referred to as the “Benes plan.’ Its chief originator is a remarkable combination of Slav, Teuton, Latin, and what seem to me distinctly American traits. His head is patently bulging with brains; he has piercing but wonderfully kind eyes; his facial expression is sympathetic, but be speaks with a rather harsh voice. If is most taking feature is his smile—an instant smile and one full of understanding and appreciation for the circumstance eliciting it. Ho speaks French with poor Parisian accent; but, alert, supple, lucid, constructive, full of resource, lie gives you a clear picture of the statesmanlike end ho is working for, with his various sanctions (for security) as precedent to armament limitations. lie speaks with surprising authority for a man still comparatively young until von realise that ho never permits his talk to degenerate into mere sentimentalism. Ho, is a practical politician. He does not dream dreams. Nicolas Politis, cx-Grcck Foreign Minister, and now Ambassador at Paris, closely and effectively associated with Dr Benes in the limitation of armament plan, is a signally handsome man, as becomes ono of Greek ancestry. Yesterday I heard him speak smoothly and cogently for threequarters of an hour without a note and without the slightest hesitation for a word. Ho was developing the principle of compulsory arbitration. He spoke in absolute harmony with the words that I hoard from President Motta concerning him: “A scholar and a. statesman. His is a_ penetrating and clear mind; his a logician’s thought ; his speech has the measure of the Greek masters—indeed, measure, balance, that is the divine virtue the Greeks have bequeathed to us.” Paul Hymans, Belgian Foreign Minister, has been a live wire hero for five Assemblies. President of the first Assembly (1920), ho is now President of the Council. Good as an executive, he is better as an orator. It does not appear to comport with his restive, restless nature to sit qnietlv and calmly in a chair as a presiding officer. It does appear entirely his nature to put every ounce of his spare, nervous .self into gestures of force and words of thunder —the while keeping legs busy, too. His thin face seems continually consumed by some internal fire ; certainly inspiration and experience alike inform* his speech. Mine-ichiro Adachi, Japanese Ambassador at Brussels and Vice-President of 1 lies Institute of International Law, is the League’s Tom Thumb, Ho is a wonderfully able, hard-headed little person. He looks like an ivory idol yellowed with age. His shining and almost bald pale and the wee. wisps of hair he wears on his face only accentuate his inscrutable expression. Wc have yet to understand just why ho waited until the closing day of the usual four-week term of the Assembly before springing his remarkable proposal. Perhaps, feeling sure of getting half a. loaf anyway, he wanted to avoid too long a tight with the representatives of the British dominions and with some others on the Commission. He refused to agree that the. International Court should have the final voice in determining whether or not a dispute was solely ono of domestic jurisdiction, and insisted that the Council (on which Japan has a permanent scat) must bo given the last word. Aristide Briand, repeatedly French Premier, is about as graceful as a cow. Short, solid, ungainly, seemingly a bit lazy, he looks like a blacksmith in retirement; certainly ho has a blacksmith’s gestures. Ho seems the Vulcan of the Assembly. Clumsy physically, there is nothing clumsy about his very "’masculine and forceful French. It commanded universal attention yesterday. There was no paper-rustling or nose-blowing. No ono stirred. The speech received the unwonted compliment of a translation by M. Camorlynck (the official translator, and a master of his art; ho sits at the President’s right; Sir Erie Drummond, Secretary-General, sits at Ids left) instead of a translation by one of tho half-dozen translators occupying tho lower tribune, from which tho orators of tho day address tho Assembly. V hen a word like “ forsooth ” appeared in M. Camcrlynck’s translation, even non-Fro.nch speakers rightly assumed that tho original was as subtle as it was strong. Of all tho orations from the speakers’ tribune, however, Paul Boncour’s this morning is generally accounted the best, j His is a face for a camera or a medallion. | Pure Greek in outline, it is surmounted j by a shock of shaggy grey hair. His ex- | quisite French is spoken in melodious voice —would that all other Socialists spoke thus I Ho speaks, do I say? But not as, do ordinary orators, by deliberately prepared texts to be learned by heart dr read to a patient audience. No, this orator , seems thinking before you and paying you , the compliment of voicing his thought as it develops, lie walks—thinking and talki ing—up and down tho platform. Has ho been going pretty far in his radical expressions? Then ho stops, folds his arms, ! and defies the Assembly—Athanasius con- : tra imindum. Ho interests and fascinates everyone, does this Paul Boncour. Tho closing event of this year’s Assembly , was tho Presidential address this afterj noon. I have often heard Giuseppe Motta, , from the Italian canton of Hcino, exI President of Switzerland, but never when i he so appealed to his auditors. They rose in_ a body and cheered him for several minutes. That was not a long time, I ( know, compared with the manufactured cheering of our political conventions at 1 home, but its spontaneity was "going some ” for this sedate place* Signor Motta

was visibly affected. For tho first time in this Assembly he was standing at his place instead of remaining seated. What an attractive figure! A marekd power of youth lit up his face, and you noted again that, despite his grey hair, how like a child’s is his rosy complexion, how blue and limpid arc liis eyes. Of course, there is a great difference among the many speakers. "So much big talk makes me tired,” remarked a young girl to me coming out of the Strangers Gallery after five hours of steady oratory. Yet she has missed hardly a meeting, so enthusiastic is she about the best orators; it was only the more nebulous texts of the others that she dubbed "big talk.”