Once a Gray Monolith, The
By Bruce W. Nelan
His face flushed with anger, Mikhail Gorbachev sat stiffly in the Kremlin's Hall of Meetings as the Supreme Soviet thundered through its most tumultuous session yet. For hours last week, speaker after speaker denounced the Soviet leader's request for sweeping new executive powers. Without using those precise words, they accused him of edging back toward Stalinism, of reaching for dictatorial rule. Scowling down from the tribunal at the offending delegates behind rows of desks, he leaned toward the microphone and pointed an accusing finger.
"Calm down, calm down, calm down," he ordered. Those who opposed his plan, he said, were "trying to sow mistrust." This was no time for "cheap demagoguery." He had contemplated not running in the next presidential election, he said, but decided that to withdraw now would be cowardly. The national interest demanded "quick action on this matter." The chastened legislators listened well: they voted 347-24 to pass the bill and send it on to the Congress of People's Deputies for final approval.
Three days earlier, in the Lithuanian capital of Vilnius, a meeting of some of Gorbachev's much more determined opponents had added special urgency to his demand for expanded authority. As results of local elections flowed into the headquarters of Sajudis, the Lithuanian popular front, the architects of the independence movement gathered to take stock. The election for the republic's parliament had amounted to a referendum on secession from the Soviet Union. Backing a candidate in each district, Sajudis captured 72 of the 90 seats decided. "If this isn't a landslide, what is?" asked Algimantas Cekuolis, a Communist Party member endorsed by Sajudis. Predicted Virgilijus Cepaitis, secretary of the popular front: "This means we will have independence in the spring or summer."
Lenin once referred to the vast, polyglot Russian Empire of the Czars as a "prison of nations." Most of those captive nations, set loose briefly by the Bolshevik Revolution and the aftermath of World War I, were reconquered by the Red Army and reforged into the modern Soviet Empire: 15 ethnically diverse republics spreading almost 7,000 miles from the Polish border to the Sea of Japan.
This immense landmass, so long made immutable and monolithic by rule from the Kremlin, is now quaking under the impact of Gorbachev's reforms. The Soviet republics are beginning to snap the political and economic bonds linking them to the once all-powerful center in Moscow. With the Baltic states of Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia in the vanguard, some of the imprisoned peoples are battering the outside walls and intend to leap to freedom. It now seems certain that the center cannot hold onto all 15 republics. What was unthinkable only a few months ago has now become reality: the largest country in the world is on the brink of shrinking. Politics in the U.S.S.R. has turned into a race between the republics trying to break out and Gorbachev with his determination to build new fences and structures to keep them in.
The diminution of the colossus of the East can only ease the minds of the nations of Eastern Europe that are slipping out of its political grip and those of Western Europe that have fearfully armed against it since the end of World War II. Amid the rejoicing, however, some cautionary notes are in order. A fragmenting giant with an immense nuclear arsenal must be carefully watched for signs of instability. That would be particularly true if the U.S.S.R. unraveled to a point at which a Russian chauvinist republic might control it. Such concerns are real, if premature. As William Webster, the director of the CIA, testified in Washington last week, it is possible that Gorbachev's enemies could one day try to oust him. But for now, "those demanding an acceleration of reform still have the upper hand."
The epicenter of the Soviet secessionist quake is in the Baltic states, which enjoyed 20 years of independence before being re-annexed by the Soviet Union in 1940 under a cynical deal between Stalin and Hitler. As a result, says Sajudis president Vytautas Landsbergis, Lithuania "is not seeking to establish independence, but working to restore it." Visiting the republic in January, Gorbachev tried to apply the brakes with an offer to create a new Soviet federation with increased autonomy for all republics. While every republic had a constitutional right to leave the Union, he said, a law on secession procedures first had to be passed in Moscow. Give autonomy a chance, he urged, pointing out, "You have never lived in a federation."
Lithuanian leaders denounced Gorbachev's arguments as "trickery" and pressed ahead. The republic's Communist Party organization had already declared itself independent and moved closer to Sajudis in an attempt to build some credibility among the voters who now would decide its future. Last month the local parliament declared its 1940 accession to the U.S.S.R. "unlawful and invalid."
While the Baltics have a special claim to independence, visible fault lines have appeared among several republics as glasnost allowed the non-Russian peoples to speak their hidden thoughts and demokratizatsiya opened the door to new organizations and popular movements. National fronts were formed in almost every part of the country to advance ethnic, linguistic and cultural causes. Marx and Lenin had held that life under socialism would submerge such differences in the sea of workers' internationalist unity. As has so often been the case, Marxist-Leninist theory was wrong.
Unity was enforced and nationalist ambitions suppressed over the decades with ruthless coercion by the KGB, supplemented by privileges for the local party leaders who carried out Moscow's directives. Under Gorbachev, the use of force inside the Soviet Union was discouraged, and the party's hidebound patronage system came under direct attack. By denouncing the government's "command-administrati ve" methods, Gorbachev hoped to invigorate the system and increase its efficiency.
Gorbachev's missile, however, also hit the colonial administration that maintained the Soviet empire. Glasnost naturally entails talking about past injustices and that has led to a new emphasis on ethnic grievances. Local party leaders, feeling the heat from Moscow, discovered that they could keep a grip on their jobs only by throwing in their lot with the nationalist forces in their regions -- actually representing their constituents' interests in dealing with Moscow. In most republics, it has now become good politics for Communist officials to shake a fist at the Kremlin.
Once Gorbachev's democratization had lifted the lid, fiery-eyed nationalism leaped out. Azerbaijanis and Armenians fell upon one another as if centuries of Muslim-Christian warfare had never seen a truce. Moscow sent in peacekeeping troops, and Azerbaijanis denounced the government, publicly burning their red party cards. Soviet forces killed 20 demonstrators in Georgia. Fueled by anger over chronic unemployment, housing shortages and catastrophic damage to the environment, a spate of violent riots in Tadzhikistan, Kirghizia and Kazakhstan turned anti-Russian. With less bloodshed but equal vehemence, national movements in the Ukraine, Moldavia and Belorussia are demanding an end to Russian domination. Since December 1986, at least 408 people have died in clashes around the empire. No fewer than 60 million Soviet citizens live outside their home republics, and the ethnic upheavals have made 500,000 of them refugees.
Moscow is visibly scrambling to find a way to contain this spreading chaos without resorting to repression. Like every Soviet leader since Lenin, Gorbachev faced a nationalities problem; he simply did not know how to solve it. A special party Central Committee meeting on the issue was repeatedly delayed. When it finally convened last September, it was evident that the postponement had done little good, and Kremlin planners continued to underestimate the strength of rising nationalism. The policy they put forth was a vague collection of homilies on the inadmissibility of secession and the importance of economic integration. "Our party," said Gorbachev, "is in favor of a large and powerful federal state." While republics should aim for "self-management," they should remember their duty to develop "the whole country." The tendency toward independence, he said, would "have exceedingly negative consequences for those who embark on that path."
The Baltic states dismissed Gorbachev's plea. Says Valery Chalidze, an exiled dissident and editor: "I think ((the Soviet leaders)) are very far from any clear ideas on what they want in any new constitution." Peter Reddaway, senior Soviet specialist at George Washington University, agrees: "I don't think Gorbachev has any realistic design for a particular type of federation. He is under so much pressure from so many problems that trying to devise something stable is really hopeless."
In the republican elections that began last December and will continue in various parts of the country through June, the clearest campaign theme to emerge is the public's rejection of Communist Party candidates. Gorbachev hopes to save the Union by decreasing the importance of the much hated party and enhancing the powers of the central, duly elected government. Like an admiral on a sinking warship, he is transferring his flag to another vessel.
Though Gorbachev remains head of the party, he is investing the office of the President with precisely those powers that he hopes will allow him to control the centrifugal forces pulling the Soviet Union apart. As chairman of the Defense Council, he is already commander in chief of the armed forces. But the new law passed last week will formalize the President's control not only of the military but also of Interior Ministry troops and the KGB. He will appoint and preside over the Cabinet of Ministers, declare emergencies and martial law, issue executive orders, veto laws and dissolve the legislature. One of the debaters who annoyed Gorbachev last week, Sergei Stankevich, a liberal Moscow Deputy, said, "We can still feel the great totalitarian tradition in this country." The President responded, "It has nothing to do with Gorbachev's power. What does Gorbachev have to do with it? Life has brought us to this point, nothing else."
His meaning was perfectly evident to delegates from the rebellious Baltics. They refused to participate in the voting, arguing that because they will soon be independent they should not take part in creating new Soviet institutions. After the session, Gorbachev invited six Baltic delegates to his office to explain their position to him. He then told them he stood firmly on his plan to create a new federation and would stick to it in future negotiations with the Baltic states. Said Estonian journalist Tarmu Tammerk: "This was the first time he has admitted that Baltic independence is something we can legitimately talk about."
Gorbachev's reach for such extraordinary powers prompted Lithuanian leaders to advance to March 4 runoff elections in 20 of the 51 undecided districts. That will enable them to convene the new Lithuanian Supreme Soviet before Gorbachev is officially invested with his new powers at a Congress of People's Deputies session scheduled to begin on March 12. Reflecting on the possible threat of martial law, Cekuolis said, "We want to keep one jump ahead of Moscow." The republic's president and Communist Party chief, Algirdas Brazauskas, called on Moscow to begin independence negotiations "in the near future" to establish "stable international relations and economic cooperation between the U.S.S.R. and Lithuania."
While the Lithuanian parliament has set up a committee to draft a declaration of independence, some nationalists favor a statement that Lithuania remains a sovereign state that has been occupied by the Soviet Union for 50 years. This would establish a firm legal basis for the independence decree and also allow Lithuanians to claim the republic's property, including 95 factories that still obey orders from ministries in Moscow. Before taking such a step, however, some Sajudis leaders would prefer to hold a referendum, in which they estimate about 75% would favor independence.
Sajudis officials say they will nationalize those 95 factories at first, though they intend to sell them to Lithuanian buyers later. "We'll simply do the same thing they did in Russia 70 years ago," says Leimut Andrikene, a member of the government's economic reform committee. Moscow argues for a transition period during which accounts would be drawn up to provide for compensation, including the bill for the factories. But the Lithuanians are putting together a counterclaim, which will include costs of property the Soviets seized in 1940. "They have been lining their pockets with profits made on Lithuanian soil for 50 years," says Andrikene.
In nearby Estonia, the Supreme Soviet recently passed a resolution calling for an immediate start on negotiations toward re-establishing the republic's independence. But some Estonians have come up with an ingenious path to secession. Two weeks ago, they held elections for the old 499-member Estonian Congress, which claims direct descent from the body that existed before the Soviet annexation. Organizers claim that more than 500,000 people participated -- almost 90% of the eligible voters. Independence activists are now urging that elections for the Estonian Supreme Soviet, scheduled for March 18, be canceled and local authority handed over to the Congress.
No matter what avenue the secessionists choose, Gorbachev hopes to be ready for them with blocking legislation. As promised, he is planning to introduce a bill in the Soviet legislature on the right to withdraw from the Union. It will require a republic to hold a referendum in which at least three-quarters of adults cast ballots and two-thirds of the votes cast favor secession. The People's Congress in Moscow would then check the results and set a transition period of up to five years to settle all "questions arising" and reach "corresponding agreements and consents." Clearly, Moscow would demand payment for what it considers state property and compensation for those groups that want to remain inside the Soviet Union.
Gorbachev's plan seems to be to delay the process as long as possible to give him time to design a federation that might satisfy national sensibilities in most republics. The Baltics almost certainly will proceed to independence, but as they rightly point out, they are a special case. Their departure would not mean they would start a stampede or that Gorbachev would fall from power. After Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia, most speculation has centered on Moldavia, Georgia, the Ukraine and the predominantly Muslim Central Asian republics. None of them are rushing for the exit at the moment, and none seem likely to break away in the near future.
Secessionist sentiment is strong in the western Ukraine, which was seized from Poland in 1939, but only moderate in the rest of the republic. The Ukrainian national front, Rukh, claims several hundred thousand members and widespread support, but says it does not favor full independence. Rukh aims for a new treaty of union in which the republics would be able to gain more control over their own economies -- an important point for the grain-rich region. The Ukrainian Communist Party is still rigidly conservative, and managed to limit Rukh's candidates to only about a third of last weekend's races for Supreme Soviet seats.
Similarly, in Moldavia the Popular Front, which claims a million supporters, demands that the term Soviet Socialist be dropped from the republic's name, but has not put separation on the agenda. It calls for "sovereignty," presumably inside a new Soviet federation. With neighboring Romania in turmoil and elections there set for May, talk of unification with the Bucharest government has been replaced by a wait-and-see attitude.
Georgia, once a kingdom and still fiercely nationalistic, might follow the Baltics out of the Union. Its newly revived Georgian Social Democratic Party has announced that it will enter candidates in the March 25 elections for the Supreme Soviet. In spite of the ethnic feuding and anti-Russian feeling in the Central Asian republics, however, none of them have mounted a significant independence movement. On balance, they receive more economic support from Moscow than they contribute to the Union. Their real aim is increased state investment, and they are worried that the center will order them to operate self-sufficiently. In Uzbekistan, for example, says Carnegie-Mellon University Professor Nancy Lubin, "the Popular Front wants to answer the needs of its own people first, and it wants Moscow's help to do it."
Economics cannot be separated from politics, least of all in the Soviet Union, and in those terms the republic with most of the cards is Russia, officially called the Russian Soviet Federative Socialist Republic. With just over half the Soviet population, the R.S.F.S.R. produces 63% of the country's electricity, 91% of its oil, 75% of its natural gas, 55% of its coal, 58% of its steel, 50% of its meat, 48% of its wheat, 85% of its paper and 60% of its cement. Its treasury subsidizes inefficient industries in all the republics. Siberia supplies 3.5 times more raw materials than the rest of the country, and most of those are then shipped at below-market prices to other republics. The Soviet domestic price for oil, for example, is less than half the world price. Encountering world-market prices will be a rude awakening for the Balts, who have few significant natural resources. That prospect is not likely to deter such ardent nationalists, but it could have a chilling effect on some of the other republics.
If Gorbachev succeeds in holding most of the country together for a while, he still faces the task of designing a workable new relationship. The lackluster party platform on nationalities and federation that was approved at last month's Central Committee meeting will be presented this summer to the 28th Party Congress. It calls for a federation of "free and equal republics, voluntarily delegating part of their rights to the Union in order to attain common goals." The wording is vague enough to suggest everything from an acceptance of separate republican flags to noncommunist governments. Foreign Minister Eduard Shevardnadze, a Georgian, put it more clearly last month when he said, "If we want to preserve our commonwealth of fraternal peoples, then we must reconstitute it as a treaty union of genuinely sovereign states."
If that is what the Kremlin means, it will have to say so. Thus far, its plan talks of "economic independence" for the republics, but also insists on "the center operating at the macro level." Does this imply a federation, with a central government? A confederation, with no central authority? An economic community? Gorbachev will have to decide whether he favors revising the present Union through legislation or dismantling the whole Soviet structure by writing a new constitution. He has taken for himself the chairmanship of the congress's Constitutional Commission and set a one-year deadline for drafting a new document. He told the Central Committee last month that the sooner decisions are made to define "the competence of the Union and that of republics," the sooner everyone will see "the enormous advantages of the new federation."
Does he have a year? Paul Goble, deputy director of research at Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty, argues that if Gorbachev still intends to follow the path of perestroika and demokratizatsiya, he will have to allow the Baltics to break away by Christmas and possibly Moldavia not long thereafter. Some experts, such as Francois Heisbourg, director of the London-based International Institute for Strategic Studies, believe Gorbachev will use military force as a last resort to hold things together. Western intelligence officers, however, say the army has intervened very reluctantly in ethnic conflicts in the Caucasus and Central Asia and will not do so indefinitely.
Russians do not indicate that they are determined to hold on to the empire at all costs. Indeed, the costs of the empire, rather than its glory, seem uppermost in their minds. Both Gorbachev and Shevardnadze have assured President Bush that Moscow will not use force against the Baltic states. A senior Soviet diplomat says of the Baltics, "Of course they can choose independence. But the laws have to be observed, and they must keep in mind that they will have to pay a heavy economic price." In Paris last month, Gorbachev's adviser Andrei Grachev said if Lithuanians cannot be convinced that it is in their interest to remain in a new federation, "they make the decision, and no one can prevent them from fulfilling it." Says the Carnegie Endowment's Dimitri Simes: "During the Civil War, there were strong imperial patriots who made keeping the country together their highest priority. Now I do not see any strong constituency for maintaining the empire with blood and violence."
Thus it is possible that the Baltic leaders racing so anxiously to independence are hurrying unnecessarily. Gorbachev could have entirely different crackdowns in mind as he gathers in his new powers to declare emergencies and maintains them "to defend the interests and security of the U.S.S.R." It is the decay of the center rather than the demands of the periphery that is most threatening to his reforms. His biggest immediate problem is likely to be the millions of Soviet citizens who are sick of communism, angry at the government, in despair at their living conditions -- and have no plans to leave the country.
But there is also no doubt that at some point soon -- a few months from now, perhaps a year, who can say for sure? -- the world's largest country will begin to contract. As future historians contemplate the Soviet Empire of the 20th century, they may wonder not why it collapsed but how it lasted so long.
CHART: NOT AVAILABLE
CREDIT: TIME Map Designed by Nigel Holmes
Text by Bruce W. Nelan, Brigid O'Hara-Forster
Cartography by Paul J. Pugliese
Research by Deborah L. Wells
CAPTION: PRODUCTION LINE
With reporting by Paul Hofheinz/Vilnius, John Kohan/Moscow and J.F.O. McAllister/Washington