An American Life

by Ronald Reagan

  I was struck by how deeply affected Gorbachev appeared to be by the Chernobyl accident. He commented that it was a great tragedy which cost the Soviet Union billions of rubles and had only been barely overcome through the tireless efforts of an enormous number of people. Gorbachev noted with seemingly genuine horror the devastation that would occur if nuclear power plants became targets in a conventional war much less a full nuclear exchange. Gorbachev agreed that Chernobyl was a “Final Warning” as Dr. [Robert] Gale had called it in his book. It was obvious from that evening that Chernobyl has left a strong anti-nuclear streak in Gorbachev’s thinking.

  Gorbachev showed open pride in your accomplishments together, mentioning that the INF treaty was an accomplishment for the entire world. While the Gorbachevs commented on the good press coverage of the Moscow Summit in our two countries and around the world, they betrayed some frustration at Western media stories on them personally. Gorbachev registered an interest in more discussions with us on regional issues, and his joke about dressing a Brazilian soccer team like Georgians so their Armenian opponents would get fired up was an ironic reference to his major nationality problems at home.

  Finally, both the Gorbachevs revealed something of themselves during the evening. Evidently true lovers of the ballet, they recalled fondly how they had watched standing from the upper balconies in their student days. Gorbachev noted that his only two connections with religion had been his baptism which he could not remember and a recent meeting with Soviet church leaders. His comment that he had never used his law degree brought out a strong defense of his successes in life from Raisa. She also remarked to you on the responsibilities and burdens of leadership. Both expressed a confident sense of national pride in their descriptions of the variety of the Soviet Union, remarks which came across to me as genuine and not overbearing.

  In sum, Mr. President, the evening was a fitting climax to your four summits with General Secretary Gorbachev. O’Bie and I were honored to take part.

  There were many high points of our visit to Moscow, one of them being when I stopped the car so Nancy and I could take a walk in Red Square at midnight, on the way back from dinner at the Gorbachevs’ dacha. Gorbachev and I had been there earlier in the day, when we chatted informally with a group of Muscovites, and I was so taken with it that I wanted to take Nancy there. Another high point was a night at the Bolshoi Ballet with the Gorbachevs. From the moment we walked into that famous hall, we were overwhelmed by its beauty. Resplendent in gold and red, richly detailed and elegant, the magnificence of the hall was surpassed only by the grace and elegance of the dancers. I knew the world was changing when we stood with the Gorbachevs in our box, with the Soviet flag on one side and ours on the other, and “The Star-Spangled Banner” was played. To hear that song, which embodies everything our country stands for, so stirringly played by a Soviet orchestra, was an emotional moment that is indescribable. Around us were our respective teams of advisors, experts and aides—but for a few moments, at least, official business was far from our minds as we were treated to a performance by one of the world’s truly great cultural institutions.

  After we returned to Washington, I sent a letter to Gorbachev thanking him for his hospitality and expressing pleasure at the evolution of our relationship. In his reply, Gorbachev agreed: “Indeed, along with significant political results, our meetings in Moscow have been given an encouraging human dimension—not only in terms of our personal liking for each other, but also in terms of warmer relations between our peoples and their more correct perception of each other. The importance of all this transcends even the U.S.-Soviet dialogue.”

  85

  FOR MORE THAN THIRTY YEARS, I’d been preaching about freedom and liberty. During my visit to Moscow, I was given a chance to do something I never dreamed I would do: Gorbachev let me lecture to some of the brightest young people of Moscow—among them some of the future leaders of the Soviet Union—about the blessings of democracy and individual freedom and free enterprise.

  On what was for me an extraordinary day I never thought possible, I tried in a few minutes at Moscow State University to summarize a philosophy that had guided me most of my life.

  Many countries of the world, I said, had constitutions, but in almost every case they were documents in which governments told their people what they could do. The United States had a constitution, I said, that was different from all the others because in it the people tell their government what it can do. Its three most important words are “We the people,” its most important principle, freedom. Then I said something about the great economic engine that had made America what it was.

  “The explorers of the modern era,” I told the students,

  are the entrepreneurs, men with vision, with the courage to take risks and faith enough to brave the unknown. These entrepreneurs and their small enterprises are responsible for almost all the economic growth in the United States. They are the prime movers of the technological revolution. In fact, one of the largest personal computer firms in the United States was started by two college students, no older than you, in the garage behind their home. Some people, even in my own country, look at the riot of experiment that is the free market and see only waste. What of all the entrepreneurs that fail? Well, many do, particularly the successful ones; often several times. And if you ask them the secret of their success, they’ll tell you it’s all that they learned in their struggles along the way; yes, it’s what they learned from failing. Like an athlete in competition or a scholar in pursuit of the truth, experience is the greatest teacher. And that’s why it’s so hard for government planners, no matter how sophisticated, to ever substitute for millions of individuals working night and day to make their dreams come true. . . .

  We Americans make no secret of our belief in freedom. In fact, it’s something of a national pastime. . . . Freedom is the right to question and change the established way of doing things. It is the continuing revolution of the marketplace. It is the understanding that allows us to recognize shortcomings and seek solutions. It is the right to put forth an idea, scoffed at by the experts, and watch it catch fire among the people. It is the right to dream—to follow your dream or stick to your conscience, even if you’re the only one in a sea of doubters.

  Freedom is the recognition that no single person, no single authority or government has a monopoly on the truth, but that every individual life is infinitely precious, that every one of us put on this world has been put there for a reason and has something to offer. . . .

  Your generation is living in one of the most exciting, hopeful times in Soviet history. It is a time when the first breath of freedom stirs the air and the heart beats to the accelerated rhythm of hope, when the accumulated spiritual energies of a long silence yearn to break free. I am reminded of the famous passage near the end of Gogol’s Dead Souls. Comparing his nation to a speeding troika, Gogol asks what will be its destination. But he writes, “There was no answer save the bell pouring forth marvelous sound.”

  We do not know what the conclusion will be of this journey, but we’re hopeful that the promise of reform will be fulfilled. In this Moscow spring, this May 1988, we may be allowed that hope: that freedom, like the fresh green sapling planted over Tolstoi’s grave, will blossom forth at last in the rich fertile soil of your people and culture. We may be allowed to hope that the marvelous sound of a new openness will keep rising through, ringing through, leading to a new world of reconciliation, friendship, and peace.

  One of my regrets as president is that I was never able to take Mikhail Gorbachev on a trip across our country: I wanted to take him up in a helicopter and show him how Americans lived.

  “You choose the route,” I was going to say. “I don’t want you to think we’re showing you a Potemkin Village. We’ll go where you want to go . . .”

  Then, from the air I would have pointed out an ordinary factory and showed him its parking lot filled with workers’ cars, then we’d fly over a residential neighborhood and
I’d tell him that’s where those workers lived—in homes with lawns and backyards, perhaps with a second car or a boat in the driveway, not the concrete rabbit warrens I’d seen in Moscow—and say:

  “They not only live there, they own that property.”

  I even dreamed of landing the helicopter in one of those neighborhoods and inviting Gorbachev to walk down the street with me, and I’d say, “Pick any home you want; we’ll knock on the door and you can ask the people how they live and what they think of our system.”

  The greatness of America, of course, doesn’t lie in its houses and cars and material riches.

  Democracy triumphed in the cold war because it was a battle of values—between one system that gave preeminence to the state and another that gave preeminence to the individual and freedom.

  Not long ago, I was told about an incident that illustrated this difference: An American scholar, on his way to the airport before a flight to the Soviet Union, got into a conversation with his cab driver, a young man who said that he was still getting his education. The scholar asked, “When you finish your schooling, what do you want to be, what do you want to do?” The young man answered, “I haven’t decided yet.” After the scholar arrived at the airport in Moscow, his cab driver was also a young man who happened to mention he was still getting his education, and the scholar, who spoke Russian, asked, “When you finish your schooling, what do you want to be, what do you want to do?” The young man answered: “They haven’t told me yet.”

  The battle of ideas and values between East and West isn’t over—far from it. In dealing with the Soviet Union, we must remain vigilant and strong. I’ll say it one more time: “Dovorey no provorey—trust, but verify.”

  There will be bumps in the road. But after talking with these bright young people in Moscow and seeing what was happening in their country, I couldn’t help but feel optimistic: We were at the threshold of a new era in the political and economic history of the world.

  I can’t wait to see where it will lead us.

  After my trip to Moscow, our teams continued work on the START treaty, but there were too many mountains to climb—not only the complex problems of reaching agreement on how to verify cutbacks in sea-launched and other missiles but the continuing refusal of the Soviet Union to destroy the huge radar station it was building at Krasnoyarsk, twenty-one hundred miles east of Moscow.

  By early September, four months before I was scheduled to move out of the White House, it had become apparent that we weren’t going to resolve the remaining problems on the START agreement before I left office. Gorbachev sent me a letter that expressed his regrets and looked back on the journey the two of us had traveled together:

  Dear Mr. President:

  I take advantage of the visit by Minister of Foreign Affairs Eduard A. Shevardnadze to Washington in order to continue our private discussions.

  In one of our conversations in Moscow, it was suggested that we might have a chance to meet once again this year to sign a treaty on drastic reductions in strategic offensive arms in the context of compliance with the ABM treaty. Regrettably, this goal that both of us share has been set back in time, although I continue to think it can still be attained, even if beyond this year.

  I take some consolation in the awareness that still in effect is our agreement to do the utmost in the remaining months of your presidency to insure the continuity and consistency of the fundamental course that we have chosen. As I recall, you said you would do your best to preserve the constructive spirit of our dialogue, and I replied that in that respect our intentions were quite identical. And so they are indeed, which is a source of great hope for our two peoples.

  Four months have gone by since the summit talks in Moscow—a short period of time given the dynamic and profound developments in international affairs and those that fill the political calendar in the Soviet Union and the United States. Still, a great deal has been accomplished in putting into effect the jointly agreed platform for the further advancement of Soviet-U.S. relations. For the first time in history, nuclear missiles have been destroyed . . . nuclear disarmament is becoming an established and routine practice.

  In several regions of the world, a process of political settlement of conflicts and national reconciliation has got under way. The human dimension of our relations, to which we have agreed to give special attention, is becoming richer. Ordinary Soviet people continue to discover America for themselves, marching across it on a peace walk, and right now, as you are reading this letter, another public meeting between Soviet and U.S. citizens is being held in Tbilisi.

  Someone might object that in the past, say in the 1930’s or 1970’s, Soviet-U.S. relations also had their upturns. I would think, however, that the current stage in our interaction is distinguished by several significant features. The four summit meetings over the past three years have laid good ground work for our dialogue and raised it to a qualitatively new level. And, as you know, from high ground it is easier to see the path we have covered, the problems of the day, and the prospects that emerge.

  A unique arrangement for practical interaction has been established, which is supported by fundamental political affirmations and, at the same time, filled with tangible content. This has been facilitated by the principal approach on which we agreed already in Geneva, i.e. realism, a clearer awareness of the essence of our differences, and a focus on active search for possible areas where our national interests may coincide. Thus, we gave ourselves a serious intellectual challenge—to view our differences and diversities not as a reason for permanent confrontation but as a motivation for intensive dialogue, mutual appreciation and enrichment.

  Overall, we have been able to achieve fairly good results, to start a transition from confrontation to a policy of accommodation. And this is, probably, not just a result of a frank and constructive personal relationship, although obviously personal rapport is not the least important thing in politics. Paraphrasing a favorite phrase of yours, I would say that talking to each other, people learn more about each other.

  And yet, the main thing that made our common new policy a success is, above all, the fact that it reflects a gradually emerging balance of national interests, which we have been able in some measure to implement. We feel, in particular, that it is favorable to the development of new approaches, of new political thinking, first of all in our two countries—but also elsewhere. The experience of even the past few months indicates that increasing numbers of third world countries are beginning to readjust to our positive interactions, associating with it their interest and policies.

  Ironic as it may sound, it is our view that the strength of what we have been able to accomplish owes quite a lot to how hard it was to do.

  It is probably not by a mere chance that the jointly devised general course in the development of Soviet-U.S. relations is now enjoying broad based support in our two countries. So far, as we know, both of your possible successors support, among other things, the key objectives of concluding a treaty on 50 per cent cutbacks in Soviet and U.S. strategic arsenals. In the Soviet leadership, too, there is a consensus on this. And yet, it has not been possible to bring the Geneva negotiations to fruition, a fact about which I feel some un-happiness. It is our impression we have to tango alone, as if our partner has taken a break.

  In another letter to you, I have already addressed the matter which you raised in your letter of August 12 regarding compliance with the ABM treaty. I think you would agree with me that it would be unforgivable if our mutual complaints of violations of the ABM treaty resulted in undermining what we have been able to accomplish to rectify Soviet-U.S. relations through the efforts of both sides. I would like Eduard Shevardnadze’s visit to the United States and his talks with you and Secretary Shultz to result in reviving truly joint efforts to achieve deep cuts in strategic offensive arms. Our minister has the authority to seek rapid progress on the basis of reciprocity in this exceptionally important area.

  Today, the process of nuc
lear disarmament is objectively interrelated with the issues of deep reductions, and the elimination of asymmetries in imbalances in conventional arms and complete prohibition of chemical weapons. In these areas, too, there is a good chance of making headway toward agreements.

  I am confident, Mr. President, that you and I can make a further contribution to the emerging process of settlement of regional conflicts, particularly to a consistent and honest compliance with the first accords that have already been concluded there.

  In Moscow we also reinforced the foundation for a dynamic development of our bilateral relations and helped to open up new channels for communication between Soviet and American people, including young people and artists. All these good endeavors should be given practical effect, and we stand ready to do so. I am aware of your deep personal interest in questions of human rights. For me, too, it is a priority issue. We seem to have agreed that these problems require an in-depth consideration and a clear understanding of the true situation in both the United States and the Soviet Union. Traffic along this two-way street has begun and I hope that it will be intense.

  Our relationship is a dynamic stream and you and I are working together to widen it. A stream cannot be slowed down, it can only be blocked or diverted. But that would not be in our interests. Politics, of course, is the art of the possible. But it is only by working and maintaining a dynamic dialogue that we will put into effect what we have made possible, and will make possible tomorrow what is yet impossible today.

  Sincerely,

  Mikhail Gorbachev

  September 20, 1988

  A year later, Gorbachev announced that the Krasnoyarsk radar station would be dismantled. A month after that, Foreign Minister Shevardnadze, in a public apology, said the facility, an earth station “equal in size to the Egyptian pyramids,” represented, “to put it bluntly, a violation of the ABM treaty,” and in the same speech, he apologized for the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan.