VISIT TO THE SOVIET UNION, JUNE 1990
On my visit to the Soviet Union in June 1990 I was to encounter all the different elements which constituted Soviet politics at this time — not just President Gorbachev, but also more radical reformers, nationalists and those who posed the greatest potential threat to reform, that is the military. I flew into Moscow on the night of Thursday 7 June to be met by Prime Minister Ryzhkov. The following morning I met the reforming Mayor of Moscow, Mr Gavriil Popov. I had never met a Russian like Mr Popov. He was the complete opposite of the staid Soviet bureaucrat — informal, slightly scruffy and (as I was subsequently told) probably wearing a tie for the very first time, in honour of my visit.
I found him a devotee of Milton Friedman and the Chicago School of Economics. He had grasped the crucial point that you could not create a market economy in Moscow — or anywhere else for that matter — without both private property and a clear framework of law. It was the fact that the distribution of property was lagging far behind the other reforms which he saw as at the root of the current political turmoil. So he wanted people to be encouraged to own their own flats and shops and he wanted the service industries to be transferred to private ownership.
I went on to talks and a working lunch with President Gorbachev. I found him rather less ebullient than usual but equable and good-humoured. I took the opportunity to tell him that I continued to believe passionately in what he was trying to achieve in the Soviet Union. Many commentators and journalists had become blasé about how much had already changed. I assured him that he would have my full support both privately and publicly. As regards the changes which were taking place in central and eastern Europe, I tried to convince him that it was in the Soviet Union’s own interests that a unified Germany should be part of NATO, because otherwise there would be no justification for the presence of US forces in Europe. It was this presence which was the crucial condition for European peace and stability. I also described to him my ideas about the development of the CSCE. Slightly to my surprise, I noted that at no stage did he say that a united Germany in NATO was unacceptable; so I felt on this matter at least I was making progress. The only significant differences between us were over Lithuania — as I have mentioned earlier — and my decision to raise with him the evidence which we had gleaned that the Soviet Union was doing research into biological weapons — something which he emphatically denied, but nonetheless promised to investigate.
That afternoon I had an hour’s discussion with the Soviet military leadership. I had decided that I wanted to see how they were thinking and also let them know precisely what my own views were. Marshal Yazov, the Soviet Defence minister, was very much in charge and the others — including Marshal Moiseev, whose interventions and demeanour marked him out as someone of unusual intelligence and strength of character, only spoke when the Defence minister had nothing to say. This was a pity because what Marshal Yazov did say was conventional and predictable. I quickly turned the conversation to the subject of East-West relations. I said that it was good that we were entering a new period of better relations but that we should each of us understand the need for strong defence. There was scope for reducing conventional forces and nuclear weapons and for modifying our strategy to new circumstances. But we would continue to need some nuclear weapons which were the only effective deterrent. Marshal Yazov took up the line that I had heard so many times from the Soviets before about the need to do away with nuclear weapons altogether. I said that I took leave to doubt whether the views of Marshal Yazov and his colleagues on nuclear weapons were really very different from mine. After all, they did have an awful lot of them and presumably for some purpose. Unlike President Gorbachev, Marshal Yazov stated that the Soviets would simply not accept a united Germany in NATO. But whether this was because his views were genuinely different from the Soviet leadership or because he expressed them less subtly I could not fathom.
The following morning I flew to Kiev. My main purpose was to attend the ‘British Days’ Exhibition which was the return leg of an exchange which had opened with a ‘Soviet Month’ in Birmingham in 1988. When the idea of my going had first been mooted I had made enquiries with the Foreign Office about how much was being spent on the exhibition and — as usual — found that it had been subject to some penny pinching. Partly as a result of my pressure, the Kiev Exhibition turned out to be very good indeed. The intention was to portray a typical street in a typical British northern town showing shops and, in particular, the house of an ordinary working-class British family. When the local people looked around at the hi-fi and other domestic gadgets and luxuries and the car standing in the garage at first they could not believe their eyes. As I went round, they asked me whether this could really be true; did ordinary British people really live like this? I said that indeed they did. Well, came the reply, all we have been told was a lie and this proves it. In fact, everything in that house was typical, even down to the teenager’s bedroom which — like most teenagers’ bedrooms — had clothes and other possessions strewn about it. My immediate reaction was that it should all have been tidied up, but I was eventually persuaded that this was more authentic.
But if the Ukrainians had not been prepared for what life was like in Britain, I found that I had not been properly briefed on the situation in Ukraine. Everywhere I went I found blue and yellow bunting and flags (the colours of pre-Soviet Ukraine) and signs demanding Ukrainian independence. This put me into something of a quandary. Much as I admired General de Gaulle, I was not going to outrage my Soviet hosts by proclaiming the Ukrainian equivalent of ‘Vive le Quebec Libre’. It was not just that I was convinced that Mr Gorbachev was never going to let Ukraine out of the Soviet Union without a struggle. That not just the USSR but even Russia would be threatened by the emergence of a separate Ukraine was a view that non-communist Russians as well as communists held. (In fact, since the break-up of the USSR, the emergence of an independent Ukraine has proved to be strategically advantageous for Europe and the West and much still rides on its economic and political stability and success.)
Any hope that I could avoid saying something which would be misinterpreted by one side or the other quickly evaporated. The recently appointed First Secretary of the Ukrainian Communist Party, Mr Ivashko, said that it was a pity that I had made no time in my schedule to meet members of the newly elected Ukrainian Supreme Soviet. Would I be prepared to do so? I agreed. I imagined that this would be a modest and informal reception. I entered the Parliament building and then went through the door into the Chamber to find, to my horror, that the whole hemi-cycle was full. I had no prepared speech and it was clear that they were expecting one. I thought that at least I would be able to think up something to say while I was being introduced. But Mr Ivashko simply welcomed me and then asked me to speak. I managed well enough, as I always do. But then came questions. One of the questioners told me that there were ten deputies present who used to be political prisoners. He said that he knew that it was due to my efforts and the efforts of President Reagan that he was there as a deputy able to see me today and not still a prisoner. But what I could not do was to agree to set up an embassy in Kiev; nor could I put Ukraine in the same category as the Baltic States. I felt that I disappointed them. But I went away understanding just how fundamental the whole problem of nationality was becoming and doubtful about whether the Soviet Union could — or should — ultimately be kept together.
The final leg of my visit to the USSR was Leninakan in Armenia, where I was to open a school built with British aid after the earthquake of 1988. It was another politically sensitive occasion for there had been fierce fighting between Armenia and Azerbaijan over the enclave of Nagorno-Karabakh and the Soviets were very jittery about security. The school itself was one of the few buildings which had been reconstructed: the general Soviet performance of rebuilding the area had been lamentable. I found myself engulfed in huge, enthusiastic crowds — to such an extent, indeed, that I was turned back by the security people from
my original route. Though I had to cut short my visit I came away with no more doubt than in the Ukraine of the immense national fervour of the people around me.
VISIT TO CZECHOSLOVAKIA AND HUNGARY IN SEPTEMBER 1990
I shall always be glad that I was able to visit two former communist countries while I was still Prime Minister. In Czechoslovakia and Hungary in September 1990 I found myself speaking with people who not long before had been totally excluded from power by the communists and who were coming to grips with the communist legacy of economic failure, pollution and despondency.
I had been greatly impressed by the inaugural speech of President Havel of Czechoslovakia. He had spoken of ‘living in a decayed moral environment… [in which] notions such as love, friendship, compassion, humility and forgiveness have lost their depth and dimension’. He had described the demoralization which communism brought about, how ‘the previous regime, armed with its arrogant and intolerant ideology, demeaned man into a production force and nature into a production tool. In this way they attacked their very essence and the mutual relationship between them.’
Czechoslovakia was lucky to have President Havel as an inspiration, but no less lucky to have Václav Klaus as a dynamic, convinced free enterprise economist for its Finance minister (now Czech Prime Minister). Together they were rebuilding the social and economic foundations of the country. Apart from the obvious problems which confronted them, there was also the tension between the Czech and Slovak elements of the Federal Republic. I spent most of my time in Prague — a city which I did not know but where all my surroundings reminded me that I was genuinely at the heart of Europe. But I also visited Bratislava, whose economy and built environment bore many more scars of communist vandalism. The Slovakian Prime Minister, Mr Meciar, assured me that Czechoslovakia would remain a federal state and this seemed to me sensible until more economic progress had been made. But it was not to be.
Back in Prague I had discussions with President Havel. I had met him before when he came to Britain and though his politics were to the left of mine it was impossible to avoid liking and admiring him. He for his part shared my views about the need to have the eastern European countries in the Community as soon as that was practically possible. He also liked my ideas about a European Magna Carta and the development of the CSCE. I felt that he would be an ally in the course on which I had embarked in Europe.
Then I went on to Hungary. Among the eastern European countries Hungary had three important advantages. First, substantial economic and a large amount of political reform had occurred under the previous communist regime. So the transition was less difficult and painful. Second, in Jozsef Antall, the Hungarian Prime Minister, the country was in the safe hands of a genuine Conservative. I had met Mr Antall on several previous occasions and he and I shared very much the same political approach. Third, the Hungarians had held together their governing coalition rather than splitting up in divisions on minor points. Mr Antall had the skills and was quickly developing the authority to give Hungary the leadership and continuity it needed.
Yet the task of economic reform was still daunting. The Hungarians were tackling the key questions relating to property — both the ownership of land, which exiles and their families wanted back, and the privatization of industry. There was also a wider strategic issue. Even more than Czechoslovakia and Poland, the Hungarians were keen to break free once and for all from Soviet influence. Mr Antall had announced that Hungary would leave the Warsaw Pact and wanted closer relations with NATO or at least the Western European Union (WEU). Poland and Czechoslovakia were toying with the same idea. He assured me that the Warsaw Pact was indeed on its last legs. When it finally expired I favoured a special associate membership of NATO being offered to the eastern Europeans.
Another problem which the Hungarians, Czechs and Poles faced was that their security services were deeply penetrated by the KGB and this was a major obstacle to their taking a full role in intelligence co-operation with the West. In Czechoslovakia the Government had expelled Communist Party members from the old Intelligence Service altogether. My discussion with Mr Antall in his office in the Parliament building — which I was delighted now to see used for its intended purpose, unlike the time of my visit in 1984 — illustrated just how careful they had to be. At one point he pointed across to a statue presented to his liberal communist predecessor, Mr Nemeth, by the Soviet Prime Minister, Mr Ryzhkov. Apparently, on close examination it had turned out to be bugged. I said that I hoped it was still being monitored. On further inspection it seemed so ugly that I suggested he throw it away altogether. If only disposing of the rest of communism’s legacy were so easy.
RESHAPING NATO
However fascinated I was by events in the Soviet Union and eastern Europe, I could not forget that the strength and security of the West ultimately depended upon the Anglo-American relationship. For reasons I have explained — partly personal chemistry and partly genuine differences of policy — that relationship had become somewhat strained. I regarded it, therefore, as essential that the talks I was due to have with President Bush in Bermuda in April 1990 should be a success. This would be as much a matter of tone as substance. Generally speaking, I now waited for the President to set out his views before explaining mine. In Bermuda we deliberately sought to create the kind of relaxed atmosphere which I now knew he preferred. It was almost a ‘family’ affair and concluded with the President and Denis playing eighteen holes of golf in the pouring rain — a very British occasion.
It was the future of NATO and decisions about the defence of Europe which were in the forefront of my and the President’s minds. I sought to leave him in no doubt about my strong commitment to NATO which my earlier telephone conversation about the CSCE and the reasons for retaining the Warsaw Pact had apparently somewhat scrambled. The President was keen to have an early NATO summit. So, it seemed, was the NATO Secretary-General, Dr Woerner. I would have preferred one in the autumn in order to allow for more preparation. But it was clear that the President wanted a June summit and would like Britain to host it. (In fact it took place in early July.) He had also concluded that Congress was going to withhold funds for the development of a Follow-On to LANCE. He therefore wanted to announce its cancellation. I accepted that there was very little which could be done about this, but I thought it crucial to secure firm assurances about the future stationing of nuclear weapons in Germany, in particular TASM. The real question was how we were most likely to achieve this. In fact, this approach turned out to be a key to the Americans’ thinking in the run-up to the NATO summit. Their aim was to make it a public relations success, so that we could win German support for SNF and Soviet acceptance that Germany should remain in NATO. When I got back to London I set in hand the arrangements for us to host a NATO summit. There was only one complication, which was that a meeting of the North Atlantic Council — that is NATO Foreign ministers — was scheduled for June at Turnberry, a few miles south of Ayr on the west coast of Scotland. I wanted this to go ahead because it was where the more significant decisions were likely to be made about how NATO’s forces might be reshaped.
Not for the first time, I found myself at odds with the Americans and indeed with the NATO Secretary-General about how we should approach the NATO summit. The Americans were keen to announce a range of initiatives, proposing deep cuts in conventional forces and still deeper cuts in the nuclear stockpile. Messages flew back and forth between me and President Bush and some of the more eye-catching and less considered proposals were dropped. Not that I disagreed with everything the Americans wanted from the summit. In particular, I was strongly in favour of Jim Baker’s ideas about strengthening political consultation, as opposed to just military planning, as one of the functions of NATO. I believed — as did the Americans — that the importance of NATO as a means of avoiding friction between America and Europe was greater than ever.
What I was unhappy about was the American proposal formally to change in the communiqué the traditional NATO
strategy of flexible response. They were insistent on the insertion of the phrase that nuclear weapons were ‘weapons of last resort’. This, I felt, would undermine the credibility of NATO’s SNF. We should continue to resist any qualification of the role of nuclear weapons in NATO, just as we had always done. We were slipping towards — though we had not reached — that fatal position of undertaking that there would be ‘no first use of nuclear weapons’, on which Soviet propaganda had always insisted. Such an undertaking would leave our conventional forces vulnerable to attack by their superior numbers. In the end the first phrase did appear hedged around in the following form:
Finally, with the total withdrawal of Soviet-stationed forces and the implementation of a CFE Agreement, the allies concerned can reduce their reliance on nuclear weapons. These will continue to fulfil an essential role in the overall strategy of the alliance to prevent war by ensuring that there are no circumstances in which nuclear retaliation in response to military action might be discounted. However, in the transformed Europe, they will be able to adopt a new NATO strategy making nuclear forces truly weapons of last resort, [my italics]
I cannot say that I was satisfied with this unwieldly compromise. But in the end military strategy is not dependent upon pieces of paper but on the commitment of resources to practical military objectives. The review which was begun at Turnberry and which in Britain’s case would be put into effect through the ‘Options for Change’ exercise that Tom King conducted as Defence Secretary had to concentrate on where the priorities for inevitably decreased expenditure would now be.
The Downing Street Years, 1979-1990 Page 106