Also-Rans Who Still Have Clout

By John Kohan

Brezhnev's heir will have to work with, and watch, these men

If Yuri Andropov happens to glance over his shoulder, he will see a dozen or so men who thought they too had a shot at the top job.

Indeed, a number of them could still have a chance. Probably not Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko, 73, a career diplomat who may have to be content with the largely symbolic post of Soviet President. Or Boris Ponomarev, 77, a onetime historian, who seemed the ideal candidate to fill the role of party "theologian" before Andropov took the job held by the late Mikhail Suslov. Not elder statesmen like Brezhnev's Premier, Nikolai Tikhonov, 77, a man with more experience in government than in the party apparatus, or the widely traveled and urbane Central Committee Secretary Konstantin Rusakov, 72, who lacks a vital prerequisite: Politburo membership. One contender seems to be on the way out. Party Secretary Andrei Kirilenko, 76, used to be Brezhnev's understudy, but apparently lost out on a chance for the starring role because he is in poor health or political disgrace. But the new man could have cause for concern about the ambitions of tough Ukrainian Party Boss Vladimir Shcherbitsky, 64. Half a dozen others figured in the handicapping for the succession to Brezhnev and still wield great power. Five of them are voting members of the Politburo. The six:

Political Valet: When Konstantin Chernenko, 71, won East Germany's highest honor in 1979 (the Order of Karl Marx), Party Chief Erich Honecker described him as Brezhnev's "closest comrade-in-arms." Others have had less kind things to say of the stocky, silver-haired bureaucrat, labeling him Brezhnev's "briefcase carrier." "page turner" and "political valet." No one else on the Politburo owed his position so completely to Brezhnev.

Born to a Russian peasant family in the Krasnoyarsk region of Siberia, Chernenko was trained as a party propagandist. After a meeting in postwar Moldavia with Brezhnev, then local party boss, Chernenko was brought to Moscow in 1956. By the time Brezhnev took over the party in 1964, he had made Chernenko his chief of staff. Chernenko arranged Brezhnev's appointment schedule and kept close watch on the daily operation of the party bureaucracy.

Chernenko traveled widely with Brezhnev, giving rise to speculation that the Soviet President had picked him as his heir apparent. But without his patron's protection, Chernenko was apparently unable to win votes from Politburo members who remembered all too well how he had opened mineral-water bottles for his boss during Kremlin meetings.

Dark Horse: With his puffy face and bulbous nose, Viktor Grishin, 68, is a ringer for Chicago's late mayor Richard Daley. He resembles him in more than just appearance. As First Secretary of the Communist Party apparatus in Moscow, Grishin can deliver the Soviet equivalent of the Cook County vote to anyone vying for the top party slot. Like onetime Moscow Party Boss Nikita Khrushchev, he could use his post to help himself.

An anomaly among Soviet leaders, Grishin is a Russian who was actually born and bred in the Moscow region. Trained as a land surveyor, he instead followed in his father's footsteps and became a railroad worker. Grishin eventually landed a post supervising the machinery industry for the Moscow Regional Party Committee. He became a member of the Central Committee of the Communist Party and, for eleven years, was chairman of the All-Union Central Council of Trade Unions, gaining foreign exposure at international labor conferences. In 1967 he became First Secretary of the Moscow Party Committee, and in 1971 was elevated to full Politburo membership.

Thought to be a political hardliner, Grishin has proved equally tough in Kremlin infighting. With fewer marks against him than other contenders, he is a dark-horse candidate for future power. But poor health (he had a heart attack in 1981) could sidetrack him.

Civilian Soldier: At Red Square parades and Kremlin galas, Marshal Dmitri Ustinov, 74, bristles with campaign ribbons, yet he has no experience commanding troops in the field. Still, as Minister of Defense at a time when the Soviet Union is carrying out one of the most ambitious arms programs in history, he could pull a great deal of rank in any future power struggle.

Born to a working-class family in Kuibyshev on the Volga, Ustinov made his career in the civilian arms industry.

Trained at a Soviet naval artillery institute, he became director of a weapons factory in Leningrad. He caught the attention of Marshal Mikhail Tukhachevsky, and though his patron was purged in 1937, the young, sandy-haired weapons builder fared well under Stalin, who nicknamed him "the Redhead" and appointed him People's Commissar of Armaments. After the Nazi invasion in 1941, Ustinov proved his worth by evacuating the arms industry beyond the Ural Mountains. Except for a brief stint in the civilian economy, Ustinov worked almost exclusively in the postwar period on weapons, from the atomic bomb to the Backfire bomber, and on the Soviet space program.

A full member of the Politburo since 1976, the civilian soldier has an almost unbeatable base in the military and the government. But as Defense Minister he may be hampered by the traditional wariness of Soviet officials toward those with strong ties to the armed forces. Advancing age and poor health might also hurt.

Raw Youth: When Mikhail Gorbachev, 51, was named a full member of the Politburo in 1980, surprised Kremlinologists immediately pegged him as a man to watch. Since the average age of the Communist Party's ruling body was then 71, Gorbachev seemed a child at 49, eight years younger than Leningrad Party Boss Grigori Romanov, then junior member of the Soviet hierarchy.

The son of peasants from the Stavropol region, Gorbachev at one time operated a grain harvester. A graduate of the Stavropol Agricultural Institute, he has shown a willingness to tamper with agriculture, the Achilles' heel of the Soviet economy, and has considered allowing farmers to decide what they will plant.

One of a new, better-educated generation of Soviet leaders, Gorbachev holds a law degree from Moscow State University. Well-tailored and self-confident, the short, round-faced Gorbachev has the air of an intellectual, and can make perfunctory speeches sound almost interesting. As a newcomer to Moscow politics, he has yet to attract a following in the party bureaucracy. Says a Western analyst: "He's only served in one part of the country, dealing with one issue. His party and functional bases are very narrow." But as a member of the Party Secretariat as well as a full member of the Politburo, an overlapping of posts matched only by Kirilenko, Chernenko and Andropov, seasoning could favor Gorbachev next time around.

Young Brezhnev: Tall, dark-haired and well-dressed, Vladimir Dolgikh, 57, moves graciously at party functions, chatting and smiling with the ease of a youthful Brezhnev. He has traveled more widely in non-Communist-bloc countries--Austria, Algeria, Japan, West Germany--than most of his peers, impressing Western observers as an intelligent manager. Now that he has attained nonvoting membership in the Politburo, he could go far.

An ethnic Russian, Dolgikh was born in Ilansky, a Trans-Siberian railway town about 2,000 miles east of Moscow. He is thought to be the son of a former senior official in the Ministry of the Interior. After brief service with the Red Army in World War II, he earned a scientific degree from the Mining and Metallurgy Institute in Irkutsk. Sent to the mining-smelting plant in the northern Siberian city of Norilsk in 1958, he won high marks in the Kremlin for his skill in coordinating industrial development in the severe Arctic environment. Dolgikh was appointed party boss of his home base, the Krasnoyarsk region, in 1969, reportedly at the direct behest of Brezhnev. Three years later he was named a Central Committee secretary and has managed heavy industry for the party since 1976.

Dolgikh, who seems to have taken on the job of overseeing development of West Siberia's extensive oilfields, has been cast as a man who might be able to improve the struggling Soviet economy. But his relative youth could keep him from being given the chance for some time.

Imperial Air: Soviets like to joke that one thing working against Grigori Romanov is his surname, the same as Russia's former royal family. Romanov, 59, is not laughing. After a meteoric rise to candidate membership in the Politburo in 1973 and full membership three years later, he appears to be going nowhere. Still, as First Secretary of the Leningrad Communist Party he cannot be completely counted out for the party's top office.

Born to a Russian peasant family in the Novgorod region, Romanov helped to defend Leningrad during the 900-day Nazi blockade in World War II. Eventually landing the top post of party boss in the city where the Bolshevik Revolution began, Romanov gained the admiration, and perhaps envy, of party colleagues for his success in revitalizing Leningrad's aging industry.

Part of the problem for the short, salt-and-pepper-haired Romanov may be that he has a reputation for being imperial in more than name. When his daughter was married in 1979, Romanov is said to have ordered the Hermitage Museum to hand over Catherine the Great's dinner service for the reception. Conservative Kremlin leaders could hardly have been pleased by subsequent press reports in the West that carousing guests smashed priceless pieces of the royal china. But if the aging post-Brezhnev leadership is in need of some new blood, Romanov could always be brought to Moscow to learn proper table manners.

--By John Kohan. Reported by Erik Amfitheatrof/Moscow and Bruce W. Nelan/Washington

With reporting by Erik Amfitheatrof, Bruce W. Nelan

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