BACK TO THE BUSINESS OF REFORM

In this world of ours, little nations must not be seen to triumph over great powers. Otherwise, there can be no triumph.

That was how one Czechoslovak leader explained the mood of Prague last week. In the aftermath of their victory over the Soviets at Cierna and Bratislava, Czechoslovakia's rulers were carefully masking their jubilation. In the showdown, Dubcek had had an unusual weapon in reserve. It was a promise from the Communist world's first successful rebel, Marshal Josip Broz Tito of Yugoslavia, to fly to Prague on three hours' notice if Dubcek needed help in facing down the Soviets. As it turned out, Dubcek was quite capable of handling the Kremlin phalanx at the summit meetings on his own. But it was nonetheless fitting that Tito should journey last week to Prague to share in the Czechoslovaks' victory and to receive the grateful thanks of Dubcek and his people.

Tito received a hero's welcome. As he stepped from his Ilyushin-18 turboprop at Prague's airport, pretty girls in Moravian and Bohemian costumes pressed bouquets of carnations into his arms. In counterpoint to a thunderous 21-gun salute, thousands of Czechoslovaks chanted "Tito! Tito! Tito!" The route to the city was packed with thousands more, waving Yugoslav flags. At Prague's Hradcany Castle, Tito's residence during his two-day visit, a huge crowd kept up a continual clamor until Tito finally appeared on a balcony. "Long live Czechoslovak and Yugoslav friendship!" he shouted. The people roared their approval.

No Secret Deals. In the eyes of ordinary Czechoslovaks, Tito's visit put seal and confirmation on the reality of their triumph at Cierna in defense of their new freedoms. Until he arrived, many Czechoslovaks had found the sudden letup in Soviet pressure almost too good to be believed. Young Czechoslovaks milled around Prague's Jan Hus monument, puzzling over what had happened. The nagging suspicion lingered that their leaders had undertaken a secret sellout to the Soviets that only later would become apparent. Those fears were reinforced by the fact that Dubcek and his colleagues purposefully played down the scope of their victory in order to be able to keep it. They seemed grimly determined not to antagonize Russia by gloating.

In fact, only after Dubcek sensed the extent of the nation's misgivings did he and other leaders publicize the real significance of the showdown. Six thousand party workers from all across the country were called into Prague for briefings on the conferences. The press, which had been asked by the regime to tone down its anti-Soviet polemics, ran reassuring editorials. "The sovereignty of Czechoslovakia has remained and will remain untouched," wrote Lidova Demokracie, a Prague daily. Dubcek, again on radio and TV, spoke to his people. "Fears about any secret deal are unfounded," he declared.

Lesson from Stalin. Tito's visit, and the response it elicited, no doubt infuriated the Soviets, worried as they are about the consequences of the Czechoslovak precedent elsewhere in Eastern Europe.

Hungarian Party Boss Janos Kadar, for example, might be tempted to enhance his dwindling popularity by adopting a more assertive attitude toward the Soviet Union and granting greater freedom at home. For years Poland has seethed with discontent, and the Soviet Union last week doubled its divisions there to four, as a precautionary measure against an outbreak of the Czechoslovak virus. The Kremlin was also plainly worried about its own people. Pravda harshly condemned any Czechoslovak-style relaxation of central control within Communist parties. It cited an example of how Stalin squelched a similar movement within the Soviet party in the late 1920s by shouting "Enough, Comrades, an end must be put to this game!"

The Czechoslovak episode seemed to make Old Stalinist Walter Ulbricht in East Germany more rigid and unyielding than ever. There was widespread fear that the Soviets had induced Ulbricht to go along with the backdown at Bratislava by allowing him to tighten the screws even further on West Berlin. The suspicion seemed borne out when his Foreign Minister warned that the Western airlines that fly into West Berlin may be required to get permission from East Germany.

Within Bounds. Dubcek and his supporters are well aware that the Soviets might reapply the pressure at any time. So Dubcek wants to get on with the job of carrying out his reforms as quickly as possible. On the political front, he is determined to hold the party congress scheduled for Sept. 9, at which time he intends to purge the last of the Novotny conservatives from party and government posts. In addition, he wants to rush into law a whole series of reforms. Among them: 1) a new press act that will guard publications not only against censorship but also against more subtle forms of interference by the party and government; 2) a bill that would grant non-Communist groups greater freedom to recruit members and protest government policies albeit within the bounds of the Communist-controlled National Front.

In direct opposition to Pravda's pronunciamento last week, the Czechoslovaks intend to unbend the rigid rules of their own Communist Party to allow for greater diversity. Under the new statutes, Czechoslovaks would be able to join and quit the party as they please. While members, they would be free to criticize its policies and its leaders without fear of punishment. Furthermore, in an effort to separate party and state, the regime is writing new rules to forbid one person to hold both the top party and government posts.

Economics of Freedom. Dubcek is enough of a pragmatist to realize that Czechoslovakia can never fully free itself from the Soviet grip until it achieves a large measure of economic independence. At present, the country's export industries are tied almost totally to the Soviet Union, which supplies raw materials in return for machine tools and autos. At home, a complicated system of state subsidies encourages unproductive plants to turn out shoddy goods that not even the Czechoslovaks want to buy.

Deputy Premier Ota Sik, the country's top economist, wants to eliminate price supports, close inefficient plants, retrain workers and import Western goods so that Czechoslovak consumers can become accustomed to--and demand from their own manufacturers-better-grade products. In order to slip away from the Soviet embrace, Sik wants to borrow $500 million in Western Europe if the Soviets will not provide what he needs. With that money, Czechoslovak plants could buy the new equipment that they need to turn out high-quality products to sell in competitive Western markets.

Dubcek realizes, however, that economic reforms, which will inevitably mean some unemployment and rising prices, are going to be harder to bring off than political ones. For this task, he needs the same outpouring of allegiance from the Czechoslovaks as that which buttressed his stand at Cierna and Bratislava. There was some early evidence that Dubcek might get it. In a voluntary effort to strengthen the economy, thousands of Czechoslovaks last week began donating money and jewelry to the government. The one-week total: $3,000,000 in cash and gold.

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