by Bret Baier
Indeed, as he approached his fourth summit with Gorbachev, scheduled for three days in Moscow at the end of May 1988, his sense of mission had never been stronger. If he’d held his rhetorical fire against communism while he and Gorbachev were establishing their relationship and taking cautious steps toward the eradication of nuclear weapons, he now felt liberated to address the issue of human rights head-on.
He sensed that the people of the Soviet Union were ready to do so, even if their leaders were not quite there yet. In a New Year’s message to the Soviet people, part of the good-faith exchange he and Gorbachev had continued, Reagan highlighted the achievement of the INF Treaty before turning to the matter of human rights:
As you know, we Americans are concerned about human rights, including freedoms of speech, press, worship, and travel. We will never forget that a wise man has said that: “Violence does not live alone and is not capable of living alone. It is necessarily interwoven with falsehood.” Silence is a form of falsehood. We will always speak out on behalf of human dignity.
When he addressed Congress later in January, he said that the results for peace that they had achieved in seven years had been nothing less than “a complete turnabout, a revolution.” He also told them to put on their work shoes, as there was much left to be done. For those who might be tempted to let their guard down in the rosy aftermath of Gorbachev’s visit to the United States, he wanted to stress that the battle was only partly won. A treaty signed on nuclear arms was an important step, but the cruel realities of life behind the Iron Curtain had only nominally improved as a result of Gorbachev’s reforms.
Part of the caution was an acknowledgment that Gorbachev’s position had grown tenuous. By the beginning of 1988, he was racing against time. His political career was in jeopardy as he continued to push for change that was more fundamental than the window dressing even old Party hands approved of. “Talk about reform was one thing,” Jack Matlock, now the US ambassador to the Soviet Union, wrote. “Almost everybody did that. But now it seemed that Gorbachev was encouraging criticism of past practices and even the system itself, and who knew where that might lead?” Matlock sensed a shifting of opinion. Would Gorbachev’s ambitions threaten the very existence of the Communist Party? That was the fear among many nervous Party leaders. Gorbachev’s own second in command, Yegor Ligachev, was sowing dissent among the hierarchy. The situation had become serious enough that he had received a reprimand from Gorbachev and was rumored to have been relieved of some of his duties in advance of the summit.
Gorbachev was watching his back. At the same time, he dared to hope that the Moscow summit would cement his position, show the Party leaders how he had restored Soviet prestige and caused the Americans to back down in important ways, especially on the START treaty. It was a bold pose, though as Weinberger later noted, “What he didn’t understand, what nobody understood, was the fact that Gorbachev was sowing the seeds of his own disaster.” He couldn’t see the ways that his bold initiatives were wearing away his popularity, that in bringing the Soviet Union into a modern, more open era, he would lose his own place. But that was a worry for another time.
As the summit approached, Gorbachev was most concerned about Reagan’s newly abrasive language on human rights. He took note of the speeches Reagan had been giving and thought their tone was offensive. “Could it be that President Reagan’s recent remarks represent the groundwork for his visit to the Soviet Union?” he angrily challenged Shultz in April while the secretary of state was in Moscow. “Does he really intend to bring this ideological luggage to Moscow? He must realize that we will answer back. And with what result? We’ll have an argument, and we might as well forget everything we have achieved with so much effort. Who needs that?”
No, Shultz assured him, reminding him of all they’d accomplished so far. Reagan was committed to the process. But there was no sugarcoating the hard truths he was determined to speak about.
In a secure internal memo describing his mission for the summit, Reagan wrote:
My visit to the Soviet Union should not be seen as a dialogue only with the Soviet government, but also as a way of communicating with the Soviet people. I want to emphasize throughout my trip that the democratic values that make our country great are those toward which much of the world—including, we hope, the Soviet Union—is moving. At the same time, I wish to make clear that, while we welcome promises of reform within the USSR, the policies of the United States and the West toward Moscow must be based on Soviet deeds rather than words.
It helped that the Soviet withdrawal from Afghanistan was under way.
Ever since he had taken office, Gorbachev had known that getting out of Afghanistan was absolutely necessary. The question was how. The war was unimaginably costly, not just financially but also in terms of prestige and world opinion. It was a morass, an unwinnable conflict. Finally, in 1988, he set about the painful process of cutting the cord. In advance of the summit, Soviet forces began withdrawing from Afghanistan.
It was a sign of the beginning of the end of Soviet expansionism, which had been the state’s model from the outset. Reflecting on this shift, Krauthammer said, “This is an expansionist empire. It’s in their blood, it’s pre-Communist. And then it all falls apart. It’s a terrible paradox for the Russians. They’re so big; they have so many frontiers. They have so many potential enemies. But that makes them want to take more territory . . . which makes them bigger. Is it expansionism in their blood? I don’t know, but it’s defensive. They’re always threatened.”
Naturally, Reagan was supportive of the Afghanistan withdrawal, although he acknowledged having concerns about what would happen next. (A modern president could surely sympathize with the maddening difficulty of accomplishing anything of real value in Afghanistan.) But Reagan was buoyed by the trend line, which he referred to as a reverse of the “Domino Theory”: instead of countries falling to communism, it was communism that was in retreat.
Krauthammer could see a vindication of the Reagan Doctrine in the growing resistance to Communist control. “The interesting thing about the Reagan Doctrine is that Reagan never used the term,” he said. “Reagan is so smart in a way that he disguised. That was the brilliance of Reagan. He disguised his intelligence, and he was so sure of himself as a person that he didn’t need to show off.” In that way, Reagan, like Eisenhower, had a winning “hidden hand”: the ability, when necessary, to mask his true intentions until the moment was right.
Unfortunately, focusing on high-minded goals wasn’t always possible when the nation was awash in frivolous sideshows. The tabloid media environment wasn’t as voracious as it is today, but people were still willing to be distracted by juicy gossip when it appeared. In April and May, just as Reagan was preparing for his historic Moscow trip, two biting memoirs by former staff members captured the headlines for days.
Larry Speakes’s Speaking Out: The Reagan Presidency from Inside the White House, which landed in April, was particularly embarrassing on the eve of the summit. After serving as Reagan’s spokesman for just short of six years, he chose that point to reveal that he had invented quotes by the president, most notably a remark he was said to have made to Gorbachev in Geneva: “There is much that divides us, but I believe the world breathes easier because we are talking here together.” True or not, it set the media atwitter. Fitzwater and the speechwriters were outraged. It was such an obvious betrayal, with no other purpose than to make the president look inept. After all, hadn’t it long been rumored that people were putting words into his mouth? Reagan himself was nonplussed. To his credit, he shrugged it off with a laugh, privately commenting that at least Speakes had gotten it right! In the end, the revelation hurt Speakes more than it hurt Reagan; he was forced to resign from his cushy new job as head of communications for Merrill Lynch.
Then, in May, Don Regan exacted his revenge on Nancy (and by extension Reagan) in For the Record: From Wall Street to Washington, which included the bombshell revelation that Nancy relied on
a San Francisco astrologer to plot the president’s every move. It was extremely mean-spirited and hurtful—George Will called the book “an act of spite.” According to Reagan’s diary, long hours and days were devoted to discussing Regan’s charges. Nancy’s explanation was that she had begun talking to the astrologer Joan Quigley as a coping strategy after the assassination attempt and had never taken it too seriously, but that wasn’t the way Regan described it. Recalling the agony and humiliation of that period in her memoir, Nancy wrote, “I had become the national laughingstock. I was the butt of countless jokes on television, radio, and in the press. From the moment I got dressed in the morning until the time I got ready for bed, no matter what channel I turned to, there was Don Regan, talking about me and astrology. The man was everywhere. It was almost as if he had put a hit out on me.”
She apologized profusely to her husband. “I feel terrible about this,” she told him. “I’ve put you in an awful position.”
“No, honey, it’s all right,” Reagan said, ever loving. “I could see what you were going through. It’s all right.” Reagan was angry at Regan, but there was not much he could do about it. He had more important matters on his mind that May. Fortunately for him, his legacy wouldn’t be scorched by the revelation. The same could not be said for Don Regan.
THE SIGNING CEREMONY IN Washington, DC, for the INF Treaty was only the first step in the process of enacting the treaty. It had still required ratification by Congress, and Reagan was pleased when that happened days before his trip to Moscow. But there was more to be done. Everyone wanted to know what great sign of progress would be unveiled in Moscow. Gorbachev desperately wished to show the Politburo a tangible result. Even so, it frustrated both Reagan and Gorbachev that people judged the success of summits by the big reveals. The work of diplomacy was more nuanced, and the negotiations over actual treaties took longer. For example, the elusive deal on START that would reduce US and Soviet strategic arsenals by half was still being debated and would not be accomplished in Moscow. As the date of the summit grew near, Reagan envisioned his mission as a rare opportunity for a personal outreach.
Even with the friendly relationship between Reagan and Gorbachev, there was a sense of mystery about the Soviet leader, as though he stood behind a curtain. In a meeting Reagan had with nongovernmental Soviet experts in early May, James Billington, the Librarian of Congress, urged Reagan to use the summit to learn as much as he could about Gorbachev the man—his personal views and his vision of the future. Billington also advised that while promoting democracy, the president should avoid the “Rodney Dangerfield effect”—an appearance of disrespect—and give the Soviets their due in the struggle for moral recovery.
Reagan agreed with that approach. He had often wondered what had inspired Gorbachev to abandon so many manifestations of Communist doctrine. Reading Gorbachev’s new book, Perestroika, a treatise on the changes he sought, Reagan saw something he had never expected to see: a leader who wasn’t afraid to address the crippling corruption and inefficiency in his government. Perhaps, Reagan thought, Gorbachev had discovered, just as he had, that once you’re in office you see things you hadn’t before. At the same time, he thought that Gorbachev was deceiving himself in trying to achieve a middle ground, a way to make the socialist state more free, equal, and economically productive. Reagan had never believed that the Soviet Union could be “reformed.” However, he was very interested in seeing how far Gorbachev could take his plans.
Also at the meeting was Suzanne Massie, an author and private citizen who had served as an informal advisor to Reagan and a conduit to Gorbachev for years. When she first met the president in 1984, after he had admired her book, Land of the Firebird: The Beauty of Old Russia, she was struck by his interest not just in Kremlin politicos but in the Russian people. Now she reminded him that it was important he not in any way look down on the Soviet people but rather show empathy for them. She also mentioned that the people of Leningrad were quite disappointed the president wouldn’t be visiting their city. Reagan interrupted her to say that Nancy would be making a day trip to Leningrad during the summit.
Massie urged Reagan to praise the role of Soviet women. He grumbled that whenever he suggested in America that women were a civilizing force, he got castigated by the media. However, he would take her advice; in Moscow, he frequently praised the strength and devotion of Russian women.
Improved bilateral relations, one of the goals of the summit, were also discussed with great enthusiasm. The Russian scholar Maurice Friedberg thought Reagan should suggest opening an American bookstore in Moscow, since Russian literature was so widely available in the United States. The musician and Russia expert Frederick Starr added that cultural and educational exchanges, which were already occurring at Reagan’s behest, were beneficial in alleviating some of the anxiety people felt over the changes that were occurring. It was a free-flowing discussion, with many good ideas that strengthened Reagan’s commitment to forging a personal bond with the people.
Reagan had a four-part plan for the Moscow summit. As he later explained to reporters:
As you know, our relationship with the Soviets is like a table. It’s built on four legs: arms reduction, resolving of regional conflicts, improvement of human rights within the Soviet Union, and expansion of bilateral exchanges. The Soviets have indicated many times that they’d prefer the discussions be confined to the arms issues alone, but we believe that sustained improvement in relations can’t rest stably on one leg. We saw what happened in the detente period of the early seventies. There were arms and trade agreements and what was billed as a general thaw, but because of Soviet behavior in so many areas, these could not be sustained. Weapons are a sign of tensions, not a cause of them. I know all of you have heard me say this time and again, but let me repeat it here: Nations do not distrust each other because they’re armed; they are armed because they distrust each other.
Human rights remained his greatest ambition. In an April 21 speech in Springfield, Massachusetts, he put the Soviets on notice that he had more than arms control on his mind in Moscow. “In the past, the full weight of the Soviet-American relationship all too often seemed to rest on one issue, arms control,” he said, calling it “a plank not sturdy enough to bear up the whole platform of Soviet-American relations.”
On May 4, just weeks before the summit, he set a more conciliatory tone about human rights in a speech before the National Strategy Forum in Chicago. Instead of lambasting the Soviet Union for its human rights failures, he highlighted the small signs of progress that were being made: “We applaud the changes that have been taking place and encourage the Soviets to go further. We recognize that changes occur slowly, but that’s better than no change at all.”
He went on to describe the human rights agenda he would be taking to Moscow, which had four parts: freedom of religion, freedom of speech, freedom of movement (including the right to emigrate), and making those rights permanent.
Reagan had begun to see human rights not only as a moral issue but as a pragmatic one for the Soviets. He wanted to frame the idea in such a way that Gorbachev could clearly see its advantages. No longer would human rights be something the West was trying to force down his throat. “I’m going to tackle him on religious freedom—not as a deal with us but as a suggestion to him as an answer to some of his problems,” he wrote in his diary.
“What Reagan was doing was putting together a kind of ‘four freedoms’ presentation, à la FDR,” said Fitzwater. FDR’s version, in 1941, had named four fundamental freedoms that were the birthright of all people: freedom of speech, freedom of worship, freedom from want, and freedom from fear. Reagan’s version, forty-seven years later, included freedom of religion, freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, and freedom of travel. It was, Fitzwater said, an effort to prepare the Soviet people for a better world. “I think he looked at what Gorbachev was doing and said, ‘You know, he might not make it, but it looks to me like it’s heading there.’ ”
While stopping in Helsinki on the way to the summit, Reagan made remarks to the League of Finnish-American Societies. He spoke about the Helsinki agreement on human rights, which the Soviet Union had signed along with other nations way back in 1975. In spite of Reagan’s objections to some aspects of the agreement, human rights had never been one of them. He now asserted that human rights would be an integral component of the talks in Moscow. “There is no true international security without respect for human rights. . . . The greatest creative and moral force in this new world, the greatest hope for survival and success, for peace and happiness, is human freedom.” At the president’s side, Shultz was in full agreement and even attended a highly publicized Seder in Helsinki. It set a perfect tone for Moscow.
Chapter 10
Cry Freedom
The Reagans arrived in Moscow on May 29 to find a polished city scrubbed of its decay. As Washington Post journalist Don Oberdorfer described it, “The streets had been cleaned, the trashy residue of the Russian winter had been hauled away, and nearly every place on the official program had been painted and refurbished. The drab, ugly city I had seen in April had become, for a few days at least, a beautiful, gleaming capital.”
When Reagan and Gorbachev sat together privately after the arrival ceremony, the tone was open and friendly, their guard down as never before. They were “Ron” and “Mikhail” now, and they marveled at the journey they had taken from Geneva. Both felt that, though it had been difficult, the seeds of their ultimate accomplishments had been planted there. Everything they did now would build on Geneva.
Still, the human rights question was a sticking point. Gorbachev felt that the Soviet Union was moving, albeit slowly, in the right direction. There was more freedom of expression, greater openness in the press, a plan for limited free elections, and experiments in the free market. But certain issues, such as the right of refuseniks to emigrate and the crackdown on dissidents, would take more time. There was only so much he could do. He sincerely hoped that Reagan wouldn’t embarrass him on the matter, especially considering that the United States was not without its own issues: civil rights, unemployment, economic inequality, foreign military adventures, consumerism. He also pointed out to Reagan that the United States was engaged in a debate about building a fence between the United States and Mexico, although the analogy didn’t fly with Reagan. He informed Gorbachev that a fence might be necessary because so many people wanted to come into the United States, not because they wanted to leave!
