It is just as well, however, that we don’t fight this battle right now, and if we can just find a way to get the proper language so that we can negotiate it in October and November—and also get the Soviets to agree to some proper numbers, then I think we will have rendered a great service to our national security as well as to some sort of balance in forces generally.
Many of the Defense people don’t want any agreement because they want to go ahead willy-nilly with all the defense programs they possibly can and they do not want constraints. The situation has been compounded by the fact that Henry hasn’t been able to work on it. He has been so tied down with the Mideast that he hasn’t been able to pull this other one together. Maybe it’s just as well, however, because this as I said is not the time to fight this battle.
The battle with the military was not the only major problem affecting Summit III. For the first time since the Watergate break-in, Brezhnev expressed concern about my ability to make decisions domestically. He had gone very far out on a limb for détente, and he was understandably concerned that my sudden or unexpected departure from office would leave him in an embarrassing and exposed position within his own hierarchy.
In April 1974 we received a report from Walter Stoessel, now ambassador to Moscow, describing a meeting at which Brezhnev had seemed particularly concerned that our domestic problems could hinder the course of events. “Brezhnev said he respected the President for fighting back, calling this one characteristic of a statesman, and expressed amazement that the United States had reached a point where the President could be bothered about his taxes. He viewed the President’s opponents as ‘senseless,’ ” Stoessel reported.
When Gromyko came to see me on April 11, he opened by reassuring me that despite the anti-Soviet stories and articles that appeared in the American press, the Soviets were firmly in support of détente. Then, in an unusually personal moment, Gromyko said that he simply wanted to say to me that he admired my standing up, “despite certain known difficulties,” as he put it. “We admire you for it on the human plane,” he said.
The rest of our meeting was spent in a wrangle over SALT numbers, a preview of what was to come in Moscow. Thus far, the Soviets were not yielding. Neither were we. When I walked Gromyko to the door of the West Lobby, he said, “We trust you understand that we want you to come and have the meeting and that nothing should interfere with it.”
I indicated that I understood. “We will be cursed by future generations if we fail,” I said. “We must succeed.”
We left Washington on June 25. Our first stop was Brussels, where I attended ceremonies marking the twenty-fifth anniversary of NATO. I thought that it would be especially useful to dramatize the continuing viability of the Atlantic alliance before sitting down with Brezhnev. In my formal statement to the NATO Council, I said that the period of détente was one of great opportunity but also of great danger. We had to face the fact that European politics had changed completely. We had to accept the fact that fear of communism was no longer a practical motivation for NATO; if NATO were to survive, it would need other binding motives to keep it together.
It was just before I left for Brussels that the story of my phlebitis attack during the Mideast trip broke in the American press. The reporters immediately watched my every movement for signs of a limp or pain. In fact, my leg was still swollen and painful, but I was determined not to betray how much.
Diary
It’s amazing that my health is as good as it is, and, as I told Ziegler, the main thing about this leg situation is not to let them build it up in a way that they think the President is crippled mentally as well as physically. I feel that at the present time we have it relatively under control but we must make sure that people never get the idea that the President is like Eisenhower in his last year or so, or like Roosevelt, or, for that matter, even like Johnson when everybody felt that Johnson was probably ready to crack up, and was drinking too much and so forth. I think we can avoid this by proper handling.
With our airport reception in Moscow on June 27, Summit III got off to a very auspicious start. Brezhnev himself was there, bounding across the tarmac, to greet me. A fairly large crowd had been allowed to stand behind barriers and wave paper flags. Unlike 1972, there were also crowds along the streets as we drove to the Kremlin.
Shortly after we arrived, Brezhnev invited me to his office for a private talk. He told me about his recent meeting with Teddy Kennedy and Averell Harriman and said that they both supported détente. I told him it was fine for him to meet with leaders of both parties between now and 1976 because we wanted them all to be in support of détente. “Let’s get them all a little pregnant,” I said.
He said that he had followed the political situation in the United States, and he was convinced that I would be in until 1976.
After the state dinner that night I suggested to Kissinger and Haig that we have a brief meeting in my car, where we could talk without being bugged. Kissinger had seemed depressed all day. As I had guessed, the domestic harassment over the wiretaps still bothered him, as well as his realization after his talks with Gromyko during the afternoon that our negotiating position had been seriously undercut by the anti-détente agitation within the administration.
On the first day of formal sessions we took up the question of a nuclear test ban. The Soviets, as in the past, would not agree to the necessary on-the-ground verification procedures. I was convinced that without such ironclad verification procedures to make sure that they were abiding by the terms, a total test ban was too dangerous to consider. We also had to take into account that such a ban was no longer as meaningful as it would have been when we were the only two nuclear powers, and in those days the Soviets had refused even to consider it. Now neither France nor the P.R.C.—about which the Soviets were especially sensitive—would halt nuclear testing regardless of what we did; nor would Israel or India stop nuclear research.
During Kissinger’s preliminary visit to Moscow in March the Soviets had suggested a “threshold” test ban. Under such an arrangement, nuclear weapons could be tested as long as they did not cross a certain threshold of size and force. Since these infractions could be determined by seismic equipment in each country, on-the-ground verification would not be necessary. But at our afternoon session on the first full day of Summit III Brezhnev suddenly suggested that, instead of wrangling about the threshold levels for a limited test ban, we solve the question by agreeing on a comprehensive test ban.
I recorded in my diary, “During this session, Brezhnev was very tough, just like at the dacha in 1972 on Vietnam. He rewrote the script here, and none of us were prepared because it had been their idea in March, which they had explored with Kissinger, to have a threshold test ban.”
Since there was no way to forestall this digression if Brezhnev was determined to have it, I decided that the only way to counter was with a vigorously frank and pragmatic approach. If Kosygin and the others expected me to hedge uncomfortably, they would be disappointed by the tone and substance of my reply. “We discussed this issue in very great depth before I came,” I replied. “It is true that some in our Senate favor a comprehensive test ban. At the other end of the spectrum, however, there are equal numbers who favor no ban at all, having in mind the problem of verification. We have tried to restrain both sides by setting a low threshold. This is the only way we will get the support of the majority of our Congress. We cannot go to a total test ban,” I said.
After a bit of verbal jousting I came back to the subject: “Speaking quite candidly, we have an ironic situation in the United States, as 1976 approaches, with respect to détente. Those who applaud our efforts toward détente over the past two years now, for reasons that are more partisan than philosophical, would like to see our efforts fail. So, I would not make any enemies if I were intractable here today.
“I do not raise these points to indicate that my position is based simply on these political considerations. I will move in the direction of détente be
cause it is indispensable for the peace of the world, and that is why we want every possible agreement we can make and implement.
“I am in a unique position of being able to bring the American public along in support of détente. I can handle our so-called hawks—but only one step at a time, and I do not want this process to be interrupted. I want it to continue.”
I pointed toward the massive gold doors at the entrance to the room. “As we look to those golden doors,” I said, “we could say that we all want to reach them. But we will not make it if we try to do it in one step. We will always find, Mr. General Secretary, various factions in the U.S. and in other countries who, for differing reasons, want to see détente fail. And we, on our part, do not want to take a step that we have not prepared the support for. If we did that, we would simply be looking for repudiation.”
This bit of plain speaking broke the rhetorical spiral they were building. Brezhnev said he would have to consult with his colleagues and discuss it again later. Then we turned to deciding how early we would have to leave Moscow in order to arrive in the Crimea before nightfall so that I would be able to see the countryside.
I made a diary note of this long and difficult session: “My leg began to swell again after this plenary session. I think I crossed my leg a great deal during it and that seems to start the swelling. It was a pretty tiring exercise, just to hear them go through their usual hard-line statements.”
Pat and I flew with Brezhnev from Moscow to the Crimea, where we would continue our discussions at his villa on the outskirts of Yalta on the Black Sea. Since the name Yalta still carried unfavorable connotations, we called this the Oreanda Summit, after the area in which the dacha is situated.
On the way to the Crimea, Brezhnev called his wife from a phone on the plane, and as I noted in my diary, “He is like a child with a new toy when it comes to that sort of thing.” I talked to Mrs. Brezhnev and said, “Ochen priatno,” a Russian phrase of greeting I had learned, which seemed to please her.
Diary
I told Brezhnev on the plane that the ceremonies at the tomb of the Unknown Soldier in D.C. and in Moscow, where I had laid wreaths, always made me feel the profound importance of the work that we are doing. I said, “That’s what our negotiations are all about.”
Brezhnev talked about how terrible it was to see thousands of dead people in the war. In winter, he said, it was particularly bad to see them frozen in grotesque shapes. I said, “Like a tragic ballet.” Gromyko added, “In the summer when it’s hot and the bodies rot it’s just as bad.”
They have been through some pretty horrible experiences.
The mood lightened during the sixty-four-mile drive from the airport to Oreanda. Brezhnev mentioned my Marine aide, Lieutenant Colonel Jack Brennan. “I like him very much,” he said, “he is young and strong and handsome.” “The girls all think so, too,” I replied, and Brezhnev chuckled for a moment. Then he turned completely serious and looked right at me and said, “Although you and I are older, in history we may do more for our people for peace than any of these younger people.”
For most of the hour-and-a-half drive we looked out the windows at the rolling green mountains covered with blue and gold wild flowers. Occasionally we would catch glimpses of the sea in the distance.
Brezhnev clearly loved being in the Crimea, and he enjoyed taking me for walks through the lush greenery surrounding his hillside villa and along the low sea wall. On the first day after we arrived we walked to a small building built partly into the rock, with large picture windows looking out to the sea. He called it a cabana. We went in, took off our coats, and talked privately for over an hour before the others joined us for a plenary session.
Diary
We had a very frank and forthcoming discussion on the subjects he had apparently wanted to talk to me alone about. He looked out to the sea as we sat there and pointed to the hydrofoil. He did some doodling—what it looked like was an arrow with a heart—an arrow through the heart. He first brought up his new idea of a U.S.-Soviet treaty, which others could join, where each country would come to the defense of the other if either country or one of its allies were attacked. This, of course, smacks of condominium in the most blatant sense.
One thing that was particularly interesting about our conversation at the cabana was Brezhnev’s complete switch on China. In 1973 he had expressed great concern about it, but now he affected almost complete lack of interest. “Mao is a god,” he said, “a very old god. And when he dies there will be a new god.” Gromyko, however, took the opposite approach when we talked privately at one of the dinners, warning that the Chinese were a great threat to peace because they had a huge population and would sacrifice anything, including their own cities and their own people, to accomplish their goals.
Diary
Going back to the private session with Brezhnev, I pointed out that if détente unravels in America, the hawks will take over, not the doves, and I urged him to make some sort of a gesture on Jewish emigration if only to pull the rug out from under Jackson and some of the media critics. He proceeded to pull out from his folder the statistics and said he would give them to Dobrynin and Dobrynin would pass them on to Kissinger.
Our conversation ranged freely from the proposed conference on European security to the reduction of nuclear weapons.
Diary
He pointed out, incidentally, that his predictions with regard to the Mideast proved to be true. He said that under no circumstances, however, did he expect that there would be an Arab attack when he warned me about the explosive situation. That they, as a matter of fact, had done everything that they could to stop it. He was expressive with his gestures at this point—grabbed me by the arm and said, trying to hold them back, but, he said, “We were unable to do so.”
When the others joined us at the cabana, the conversation returned to the impasse we had reached over multiple-warhead nuclear missiles, or MIRVs.
“Well, let us examine this question,” I said, “because if nothing can be agreed upon, we should know it now.” I had concluded that he decided to use this ostensibly casual conversation as the final go-round on SALT at Summit III.
Kissinger stated bluntly that the numbers proposed by the Soviets were impossible for us to accept. If we did, we would have to stop MIRV construction within a year, while the Soviets would be able to continue for four more years.
“This will be represented in the U.S. as our accepting a freeze while permitting the Soviet Union to catch up,” Kissinger said. Lest the discussion lose sight of the reality of the situation, he introduced a gentle and subtle threat. “This agreement should be seen not only in terms of the numbers that are established but in terms of what each side could do without an agreement,” he said. “Without an agreement, for example, we could put MIRVs on 500 more Minuteman missiles.”
“In this period?” Gromyko asked, somewhat taken aback.
“Yes, in two years,” Kissinger replied firmly. He then introduced our counterproposal on MIRVs. It did not go as far as the Pentagon had urged, but it still provided for a substantially greater number for the U.S. than for the U.S.S.R. “We are restraining our possibilities much more than we are asking for your restraint,” Kissinger stated.
The wrangling went on for almost an hour. Suddenly Brezhnev looked across the table at me. In a heavy voice he said, “Mr. President, let me say that if what Dr. Kissinger has outlined is the last word on this subject, there is no basis for an agreement.”
He immediately returned to resume the argument with Kissinger, but from that moment I knew that there was no hope for a SALT agreement at Summit III.
Kissinger kept up the fight brilliantly and valiantly. At one point I passed him a note: “Use that ‘forensic ability’ Schlesinger told us would be sufficient to convince them.” But Kissinger could not afford to smile even for a moment. Eventually I sent him another note: “Should be a recess—we appear to be in for endless emphasis on the obvious,” and he began steering the discussio
n to a close. At the first opportunity I broke in and suggested that we keep to the schedule and go on the boat ride that Brezhnev had planned for us.
“I agree. It is time to go out on the water,” he said, and immediately led us down to the dock, where we boarded Brezhnev’s Soviet Navy yacht for a sail on the Black Sea.
Diary
The boat trip was really done in high style. It was a little rocky and on one occasion some of the plates fell off, but after we all sat down Brezhnev was in good form and the toasts went rather well.
The spirit of Oreanda I described as peace where we reach agreements equally fair to both sides. I also proposed a toast to the diplomats who do the work so that the leaders can rest.
The Brezhnev-Nixon doctrine I described as one that was fair to both nations and one which would leave a legacy of peace for generations to come.
The most interesting session was after lunch, when he joined me in sitting at the back of the boat and we just talked together. He pointed out Yalta and Bear Mountain and all the other points of interest. He became very emotional; he said that he wanted this summit to be one that would be remembered as were the other great events that had taken place, obviously referring, but without saying so, to Yalta.
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