Uranium Curtain

When the U.S. Chess Federation issued an invitation to its Russian counterpart, it could hardly have expected a favorable reply. If it had, it would have given more thought to the McCarran Act's subversive clause. Thus, when the Soviet, flapping benignly in its latest peace offensive, allowed its team to take up the challenge, there was acute embarrassment in American chess circles, relieved only when the State Department-surely loaded with chess enthusiasts itself-promised the Russians visas on the grounds of "national interest."

While it is nice to see that the State Department recognizes this noble sport as vital to the country, it is surprising that the Russian chessplayers succeeded where hundreds of talented men from allied nations have failed. Most incredible of all, a majority of those who have been refused visas on account of the McCarran Act have been scientists and educators, men of equally noble calling and of much greater importance to the United States' welfare.

Some may try to excuse this glaring inconsistency by pointing out that Russian chess players hardly constitute a menace to the nation, and such specious use of the "national interest" loophole is harmless. While true, this reasoning hardly justifies the contrast, for under the Act's provisions men as safe as any pawn-pusher and many times more worthy are refused entry by the score.

To obtain a visa, an applicant must list this associations for the last fifteen years, often explain his political views and detail his opinions on issued like Korea. The answers are often unacceptable to the U.S. Security officers, but any softening of personal beliefs whether by way of soft soap or of an honest attempt to state his beliefs fully is considered perjury.

Even those men who can satisfy the McCarran Act's super-sensitive requirements for political purity might as well not try, for the convention or conference they wish to attend is usually long since over by the time they have waded through this long-winded procedure. Only those whose purpose in the United States does not depend on more or less precise timing find this ordeal worthwhile, and they, like the others, have little chance of succeeding anyway.

Europeans have a phrase for this official myopia-"the Uranium Curtain." Inherent in those words are all the scorn, the disgust, and suspicion which Europeans feel when their educators, their scientists, and their other leading men of affairs and letters are refused entry to this country. Think, for a moment, of what would happen if a number of leading American industrialists were refused visas for travel in Europe because they did not think "straight" on Korea. The bellows from the halls of Congress would dwarf in noise, if not in idealism, the fabled shot heart round the world.

The Eisenhower Administration has recognized this. In particular, the Republican State Department, by flouting the Act's spirit so blatantly in the chessplayers' case has shown itself particularly aware of McCarran's folly. Apparently, however, this simple truth has not yet percolated down to the silver miners and sheep herders, to the Wisconsin farmers, or to the others on whom the likes of McCarran depend. Eisenhower, can hardly wait the many years this will take, though, for revision is already sixteen months overdue. Rather than anger everyone further by ludicrous exceptions, he and his legislative captains should make an immediate effort for comprehensive revision.