Soviet Union a Tough Customer Shows His Stuff

By John Moody

A nervous silence fell over the audience as the General Secretary paused to catch his breath. Throughout the opening day of the 27th Soviet Communist Party Congress, Mikhail Gorbachev, standing behind a polished wood lectern emblazoned with a hammer and sickle, had hectored and preached with passion and zeal. Caught by a momentary fit of coughing, he inhaled deeply and scanned the thousands of faces that filled the plush red seats before him. Offhandedly, Gorbachev remarked, "I am coming to the end." Hesitantly at first, then in mounting waves, appreciative laughter swept through the cavernous Kremlin Palace of Congresses.

Times have changed. When Gorbachev concluded his marathon 5 1/2-hour keynote speech last week, he had proved beyond a doubt that he is a determined foe of social corruption and economic inefficiency. He demanded radical improvements in the feeble Soviet agricultural program and lashed out against the misuse of power by Soviet officials. He also etched an acid appraisal of the 18-year rule of the late Leonid Brezhnev, who presided over the 26th Congress in 1981. Back then, laughter from delegates would have been unthinkable.

Gorbachev aggressively reminded Washington that he can be a tough customer. He scoffed at a counterproposal by President Reagan for eliminating medium- range nuclear missiles by 1990 and, along the way, displayed a penchant for bareknuckle bullying reminiscent of Nikita Khrushchev. Indeed, the General Secretary showed little inclination to tone down his anti-U.S. rhetoric. Quoting Karl Marx, he described capitalism as a "hideous pagan idol, who would not drink nectar but from the skulls of the slain." The U.S., he declared, is "the metropolitan center of imperialism." In part such pronouncements were intended to appease the party's Old Guard, some of whom are still suspicious of the 55-year-old leader. Television monitors at the press center for foreign journalists repeatedly flashed anti-U.S. "news headlines." Read one: U.S. CHILDREN DIE OF CRUEL TREATMENT.

Gorbachev's overall performance was a Jekyll-and-Hyde melange of personal charisma and calibrated bluster. He used stock phrases and body language to cajole applause from the 5,000 delegates, who first greeted his criticism of Soviet poor production practices with timid silence. The Pavlovian technique paid off. The second time he complained about slipshod work habits, he received an instant ovation. Jested Gorbachev: "Now I see I have twice won your applause by reminding you of the need for change." At the end of his speech, he glanced at his watch after a minute of applause. The cheers ceased abruptly.

Gorbachev conveyed a sense of urgency about the economic problems faced by the Soviet Union. Said he: "Comrades, a problem we will have to solve in the shortest time possible is that of fully meeting our country's food needs." His prescription for progress in agricultural production: better and more independent management of farms, more efficient harvest and transport of crops, and improved farm technology. He also promised to carry on his purge against corruption and laziness, which have driven hundreds of party and government officials from jobs they once regarded as sinecures.

Nothing seemed immune to criticism during Gorbachev's speech. He declared, "The party will continue to get rid of all those who discredit the name of Communist." Gorbachev boasted that his self-proclaimed war against alcoholism is getting results. "Drunkenness has been elbowed out of factories, and there is less of it in public places," he said. Later, at an unusual news conference, Politburo Member Geidar Aliyev said that half of the state's retail trade revenue, worth about $446 billion a year, had come from alcohol. He claimed that reduced liquor sales had slashed that income by $66 billion, and said, "We have to sell other commodities to make up for the sale of alcohol." Western diplomats said Aliyev's figures sounded implausible. If they are accurate, it means every man, woman and child spent $800 a year on liquor before the anti-booze initiative.

Although Brezhnev was not mentioned once by name, the late party leader was a prime target of Gorbachev's scorn. Said he: "For a number of years, the deeds and actions of party and government bodies tailed behind the needs of the times and of life . . . The situation called for change, but a peculiar psychology--how to improve things without changing anything--took the upper hand." His final warning: "We have to part ways with those who hope that everything will settle down and return to the old lines. That will not happen, comrades." Even to the staunchest members of the Old Guard, it was clear that an era had ended.

Gorbachev's heavy-handed battering of the U.S. may have reflected Kremlin irritation at the timing of the American reply to a sweeping Soviet arms- control proposal. Reason: the U.S. response came only two days before the congress convened, forcing Gorbachev to shoehorn a Soviet answer into the most important political address of his career. Gorbachev had offered on Jan. 15 to take a step toward complete nuclear disarmament by the end of the century. The first stage called for the Soviet Union and the U.S. to remove their intermediate-range missiles from Europe within five to eight years on the condition that Britain and France did not modernize their nuclear forces. The Soviet proposals held out the prospect of eliminating all nuclear weapons by the year 2000, provided all other countries with nuclear weapons dismantled their arsenals as well.

The apparent simplicity of the plan, and the vision of a nuclear-free 21st century, caught the Reagan Administration off guard. Gorbachev seemed to be taking the high road in arms control and outflanking Reagan in the propaganda war (see following story).

Reagan's counteroffer was spelled out in a letter to Gorbachev. The purpose: to call the Soviets' bluff by advancing the timetable for mutual reductions. Instead of five to eight years, the U.S. called for eliminating all U.S. and Soviet medium-range missiles in Europe as well as Central Asia within 3 1/2 years. In the U.S. plan, 50% of all intermediate-range weapons in both Europe and Central Asia would have to be dismantled next year, and the remaining medium-range weapons would be removed by 1990.

Gorbachev was dismissive of the American offer but did not reject it outright. Said he: "Since the reply was received literally on the eve of this congress, the United States apparently expects our attitude to the U.S. stand to be known to the world from this rostrum . . . It is hard to detect any serious proposals on the part of the U.S. Administration to get down to resolving the cardinal problem of eliminating the nuclear threat." Gorbachev went on to hint that fixing a date for his next summit meeting with Reagan would depend on progress at the U.S.-Soviet nuclear arms talks in Geneva. Said he: "There is no sense in holding empty talks." Responded White House Spokesman Larry Speakes: "We can meet and have a productive meeting without progress at Geneva."

European reaction to the Reagan plan was generally favorable, with some misgivings. Said one West German arms control expert: "It speaks well for the credibility of the Americans that they were ready to listen to their European allies." British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher's government supported Reagan's plan but insisted that any agreement on nuclear missiles include two shorter-range tactical Soviet missiles--the SS-21 and SS-22--that are stationed in Eastern Europe. Thatcher is unwilling at the moment to abandon plans to modernize the British force with new Trident II (D-5) submarine- launched nuclear missiles. In France, the prospect of a reduction in medium- range missiles raised old fears that Western Europe would be "decoupled" from the U.S. Said a former French defense-policy planner: "The probability of American engagement is much higher if the Pershings and cruises remain than if they are scrapped."

For all the momentous goings-on inside the Moscow hall, reaction among ordinary Soviets to the congress, which will end this week, was subdued. A giant television screen on Moscow's Kalinin Prospect carried Gorbachev's speech live, but most pedestrians passed it by without a glance. Said a 49- year-old schoolteacher: "I've seen a lot of congresses. One more won't turn the world upside down." That cynicism, though, seems to be as outdated in Moscow as vodka-swigging parties. Said one elderly Muscovite: "It's good to have a nice young man like Gorbachev in charge." Indeed, the Soviet leader proved that underneath his aura of charm there is a rock-hard pragmatist and a firm adversary of the U.S. And he left no doubt whatever that he is, completely and confidently, in charge.

With reporting by James O. Jackson and Nancy Traver/Moscow