Monday, Dec. 14, 1987

Newswatch

By Thomas Griffith

In a curious way, NBC's exclusive televised one-hour "conversation" with Mikhail Gorbachev in Moscow last week seemed to pose more of a challenge to NBC and Tom Brokaw than it did to Gorbachev.

The world is now accustomed to the contrast between Gorbachev's style and that of his thuggy Soviet predecessors -- brutal, cunning, stony-faced -- but it still marvels at how the sterile Soviet system could produce a leader so articulate and reasonable in tone if not substance. Too adroit to be trapped into indiscretions, he made no news and obviously did not intend to. But he left the impression he wanted, of a man prepared to be conciliatory who would never give away the store. Television is no place for serious argument anyway; the eye demands distraction, and the camera zeroes in on Gorbachev's gesturing hands. Where television is unexcelled is the chance to observe a man's demeanor as he answers questions that he has not seen in advance.

And how did the representative of our side do? Tom Brokaw seemed awed and a bit nervous. The night before, he says, "I woke up in the middle of the night and reviewed some of my notes. I laughed at myself because I knew I was awake and I was sure Gorbachev was sleeping soundly." Perhaps to many Brokaw seemed not weighty enough to put up against Gorbachev; he is handsome, easy, youthful-looking ("What year were you born in?" Gorbachev asked him. 1940). Walter Cronkite would have looked more mature, Dan Rather more aggressive (though when he feels the need to, Rather can play respectful). But Brokaw can be fast on his feet, and was well prepared. His usual interviewing style, honed in years of showbiz chatter on the Today show, is to be friendly, ingratiating, nonthreatening. In Moscow, Brokaw was so uncharacteristically solemn that he sometimes covered his mouth as if determined not to grin back at Gorbachev's smiles. Brokaw's behavior was remarkably self-effacing, and for the occasion quite appropriate. It was a welcome relief from those television news performers who through hyperconfidence or gall treat everyone they face as their intellectual equals (or perhaps inferiors). After all, a meeting between a television journalist and the Soviet dictator is not a battle of the giants.

Brokaw was neither stooge nor combatant. His tactic was to ask sharp, tight questions but rarely argue back. His concern, he says, was not to "showboat" himself and not to let Gorbachev filibuster with windy answers, though there was no way to stop him, says Brokaw, "short of reaching over and grabbing him by the tie, which I almost did." Gorbachev is unabashable, as seasoned politicians come to be, but as a salesman and defender of Communism, he was nowhere. He was more convincing on the question of how much he wants, and perhaps needs, to reduce the arms race. A Mike Wallace might have increased the temperature of the exchanges, but Gorbachev doubtless would have made the same points and in his own way.

Among Brokaw's closing human-interest questions was "Do you go home in the evening and discuss with ((wife Raisa)) national policies, political difficulties and so on in this country?" "We discuss everything." "Including Soviet affairs at the highest level?" "I think I have answered your question in toto." That was the only exchange that was truncated when the interview was broadcast to the Soviet people.

Then Brokaw hurried back to Washington, where 72 hours later he was the ringmaster of the first televised debate in history between all the Republican and Democratic candidates. On his own turf, relaxed and sure of himself, Brokaw was the star of the evening. But this too is television. The twelve candidates were disadvantaged by their numbers. Brokaw put them through the hoop, cutting them off on cue, egging them on to criticize one another. Trial by sound bite -- surely a poor test of presidential capacity.

For Brokaw it was the biggest week of his career. Along with Peter Jennings, his rival anchor over at ABC, and Public Television's MacNeil-Lehrer, Brokaw epitomizes a welcome trend in television newscasting -- urbane, intelligent and low-keyed.