Word: rum
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...were trying to settle the status of West New Guinea (or Irian, as the Indonesians call it), knew that negotiations had reached a delicate impasse. It was no time to confront the sensitive Indonesians with a blunt question, so the newsmen last week delicately sounded out Foreign Minister Mohamed Rum. "Are you happy?" they asked. "I am not happy," answered Rum. What he meant was: "The conference has failed. The political weather ahead...
...Union, 4) continued negotiation through the U.N. Last week, on the conference's closing day, the Indonesians rejected all halfway measures: "We cannot accept the continuation of Dutch administration in West Irian ... a territory which in our opinion is a part of our country." Two days later Minister Rum flew back home...
Against this background last week Dutch and Indonesian representatives met in The Hague for the parley that would determine Irian's destiny. Soekarno's men, led by Foreign Minister Mohamed Rum, demanded control within six months. Led by Foreign Minister Dirk Stikker, The Netherlands' men testily replied that they could not negotiate on the basis of such a proposal. They argued, in effect, that they were more capable and responsible colonial administrators than the untried Indonesians, and that West New Guinea's primitive inhabitants needed their benevolent aid. "Whoever calls this task of civilization colonialism...
...reception, he did his best to make up for his shadow's overzealousness. The Russian delegation had pointedly refrained from applause, and Vishinsky, when the President was introduced to the delegates, hesitated until the last second before shaking hands. But after a U.N. birthday cake (a rum and butter cake which bore five candles) was cut, and champagne poured, Truman walked across to the Soviet Foreign Minister, shook hands with him again and spent seven minutes in animated and obviously pleasant conversation...
...hens "happened to be laying." A well-stuffed tea bin is hastily attributed to "hoarded American gifts," while the gay poppings of corks (which resound throughout the book) are thanks to "a pal at Portsmouth" or even "an old pal of mine, Pinky Smith [who] sends me . . . rum from the West Indies." There is also an enviable abundance of maids, nannies and cooks, which Author Thirkell explains by declaring that their employers have "a genius for getting people to work for them...