A Summit of Substance

Call it the summit of good feelings. As the leaders of the seven major industrial democracies concluded their twelfth annual economic conference in Tokyo last week, their assessments of the meeting went beyond the typical rote claims of harmony. Japanese Prime Minister Yasuhiro Nakasone declared that the conference "reaffirmed mutual understanding and trust between us." British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher uttered a hearty "mission accomplished." Even that perennial summit spoilsport, French President Francois Mitterrand, exulted that the meeting was "the most relaxed" he had experienced. Said the most triumphant of the summiteers, Ronald Reagan: "It's no exaggeration to describe the Tokyo summit as the most successful of the six that I have attended."

While the meeting yielded up no declarations that will be remembered for their ringing prose, it did produce two carefully wrought but unusually direct communiques, one condemning state-sponsored terrorism, another supporting a plan to stabilize currency-rate fluctuations. The statements represented personal victories for two members of the Reagan Cabinet. Secretary of State George Shultz has waged a long and sometimes lonely struggle to develop a consensus in the U.S. and among America's allies on the need to strike back against states that sponsor terrorism; Tripoli and Tokyo are proof that he has succeeded. Treasury Secretary James Baker, with the pragmatic shrewdness of a Texas pol, has been stroking and cajoling his fellow finance ministers in hopes of finding better ways to manage world trade and finance policies; after cagily downplaying the chance of significant agreements, he came away from Tokyo with a plan for guiding the international economy.

The summit started with a bang. During a series of welcoming ceremonies for the leaders (from the U.S., Britain, France, West Germany, Japan, Italy and Canada) at Akasaka Palace, five homemade missiles fired from crude tubes in an apartment window nearby sailed over their target and fell harmlessly to earth. The summiteers were hardly fazed. When asked if he was disturbed by the rockets, Reagan quipped, "No, they missed."

The radicals' salvo may even have worked to the President's advantage, lending a certain immediacy to his call for a tough declaration against terrorism. During dinner with his fellow leaders on the first night of the summit, Reagan distributed a rambling ten-page position paper that Shultz, White House Chief of Staff Donald Regan and National Security Adviser John Poindexter had hurriedly drafted during the Air Force One flight. Thatcher, much to everyone's surprise, then pulled out a two-page proposal of her own. It included a checklist of direct measures that the allies could undertake.

While the summiteers slept, their aides (known as Sherpas) toiled until 4:30 a.m. on a statement. Copies were waiting for the leaders at their Monday conference. A Thatcher aide had scribbled on the British Prime Minister's copy: "P.M.: Report on the Sherpas' efforts. It's pretty weak." The Iron Lady emphatically agreed. Leaning toward her microphone, she declared, "I still don't think this is strong enough. It doesn't reflect our discussion last night." Reagan, happy to have someone else take the lead, quickly sided with her, as did Canadian Prime Minister Brian Mulroney.