WHEN MR. DULLES was exploring the heights of moral indigna-
tion over the Chinese threat to Formosa last year we took the line of realism and horse-sense. 'How can we treat with the ingrates who killed American boys in Korea?' said Mr. Dulles, and Britain went to great lengths to point out that, when all was said, China was under Communist, not Kuomintang, rule, and that if America wanted any sort of Far Eastern settlement it would in the first place be obliged to recognise the fact. No doubt our realism gave us a warm sense of moral superiority. But this comfortable attitude usually has to be paid for in the same coin. So we are discovering in the matter of Cyprus. 'How can we treat with Archbishop Makarios,' says the Prime Minister, 'when he is in touch with the nationalist organisation that is throwing bombs at British boys in Cyprus?' And so we pounce on Archbishop Makarios and, without benefit of legal sanction, sail him off to exile in the Seychelles; while the Americans, taking the line of realism and horse-sense, let it be known that, in their opinion, we should recognise the fact that Makarios is the only Cypriot leader with whom we can effectively treat. Their realism must almost certainly give them a warm sense of moral superiority. I wish to draw no moral from this except that moral superiority is a luxury which nations can afford even less than individuals.