Chapter Twelve
After the Earthquake
The last time I was to meet Ceausescu was on December 4, 1989. The representatives of the Warsaw Pact had gathered on my initiative.... There were many new faces.... I said (to Ceausescu) that the process we were living through at the moment had a clearly democratic character, despite all of its contradictions and the pain it was engendering. Due to this fact, there was no reason to fear the collapse or the end of socialism.
Mikhail Gorbachev (1995)[1]
A Difficult Reconciliation with Reality
Most of Gorbachev's collaborators and the entire Soviet leadership, just like the Western world, were caught unprepared by the rapidity and breadth of the earthquake which shook Europe at the end of 1989. In that context, the attitude which guided their behavior in the following several months was marked by three general characteristics. It consisted of refusing, to a certain extent, to see and admit the depth of the change which had taken place and the consequences which could arise from it. Soviet attitude was also characterized by some attempts to slow down the course of events. But, despite that, the dominant and most remarkable aspect of its behavior was its attempt to adjust to the new situation which had been created.
The first characteristic fulfilled a necessary function for the third. In other words, in order to be able to adapt themselves (with great difficulty) to the changes which had taken place, the Soviet leaders needed to deny, or at least to minimize somewhat, the depth of these transformations.
At the beginning of 1990, and for several more months, the main Soviet media and most Soviet leaders continued to speak of the "socialist countries" of Eastern Europe.[2] It is true, technically, that the economic
[1] Mikhail Gorbachev [Michail Gorbatschow], Erinnerungen (Memoirs) (Berlin: Siedler Verlag, 1995), pp. 925-926; translated from German for this book by Laure Castin.
[2] See A. Bogaturov, M. Nosov, and K. Pleshakov, "Kto oni, nashi soiuzniki?" (Who are they, our allies?), Kommunist, 1, January 1990, pp. 150–114.
structure and property relations had not changed from one day to the next in the region. And, for the next few months, the reformist Communists continued everywhere, albeit to varying degrees, to have a share of power. But for the Soviet leaders, educated in the school of Leninism and used to seeing the primacy of political factors, it must have been particularly difficult to downsize the radical character of the political transformation which was taking place in front of their very eyes. Even if the term "revolution" (and, a fortiori, "counterrevolution") was systematically avoided,[3] that was exactly what was happening.
The fall of the Honecker regime, followed by that of the Berlin Wall, and their acceptance by the USSR burst the main valve holding back changes elsewhere and limiting them from turning into a disaster. We have seen the result in Czechoslovakia and Romania, even if, in the latter case, the ultimate result was satisfactory for Moscow. In the case of Poland, the preservation of General Jaruzelski as head of state and of the armed forces and the presence of Communists at the head of the "power ministries" lost their meaning. On October 3, during a PUWP Central Committee meeting, one could still hear calls from its leading circles for a reconquest of power. But, as Georges Mink points out, "if the PUWP members did not immediately realize the irreversibility of the situation, the revolutionary wave which swept the East managed to destroy their morale...."[4] In the weeks that followed Honecker's ouster, the PUWP disintegrated. In various places, the cells declared their own dissolution. In January 1990, in confusion and disarray, the remnants of the PUWP, which dissolved itself, gave birth to two new parties which defined themselves as social-democratic. Even the more important of these two, the Social-Democratic Party of Poland (despite the dynamism of its new head, Alexander Kwasniewski) did not appear, in the conditions of the time, to have a future.
In Hungary, as planned, the Communist Party had held a congress in October to complete its transformation into a social-democratic party. The leaders committed a serious error in judgment in asking the HSWP members to formally apply for membership in the new party. They
[3] Later in 1990, some authors were to use the term "democratic revolution," but still in terms of linking it to a renewal of socialism. See Iurii Kniazev, "Demokraticheskie revoliutsii v Vostochnoi Evrope" (Democratic Revolutions in Eastern Europe), Kommunist, 14, September 1990, pp. 106–115.
[4] Georges Mink, "Pologne: le paradoxe du compromis historique," p. 58, in Pierre Kende and Aleksander Smolar, eds., La grande secousse: Europe de l'Est, 1989–1990 (Paris: Presses du CNRS, 1990).
expected to gather together about 70 percent of the 720,000 members still remaining, at that moment, in the HSWP. In fact, in the political context of fall 1989 and despite the fact that the new party still remained in power through its leaders, only 50,000 supporters had applied by the end of 1989. The setback was all the more bitter since those who, under the political leadership of Karoly Grosz, had refused to transform the HSWP and decided to maintain it, succeeded, for their part, in gathering 100,000 members. This was not the only disappointment for the new party. Denouncing the accord between the Hungarian Democratic Forum and the reformist Communists designed to favor Imre Pozsgay's election to the presidency, the radical, minority faction of the opposition succeeded in obtaining the holding of a referendum. The goal of the referendum-seekers was to push back the presidential election (which was to be held by direct popular vote) until after the election of a new Parliament, which would then elect the president. It was meant to assert the political primacy of the Parliament. On November 29, by a very narrow vote, the presidential elections, which Pozsgay was still sure to win just a few weeks earlier, were cancelled. While opinion polls had given the HSWP on the road to transformation 40 percent of decided votes in the summer, at the end of November, after the opening of the Berlin Wall, they were only estimated to have 16 percent support.[5]
Certainly, Soviet commentators close to the dominant ideology recognized that "world socialism" and the East European Communist Parties were undergoing new, and very serious, difficulties and that their relationship to power was changing fundamentally. But, in a more social-democratic than Communist perspective, they stated that, by developing their relations with the other Leftist parties, they could remain one of the essential, determinant political forces within their respective societies, if they knew how "to stay on the 'train' of processes common to all civilizations."[6] Others insisted on the objective resistance which the socioeconomic structure and property relations in Eastern Europe posed to a pure and simple changeover to capitalism.[7] In early 1990, a report of the Bogomolov institute, while recognizing that several Communist
[5] See Zoltan D. Barany, "The Hungarian Socialist Party: A Case of Political Miscalculation," Radio Free Europe Research (RAD Background Report-227, Hungary), 22 December 1989.
[6] See S. Kolesnikov and G. Cherneiko, "V stranakh sotsializma: dostizheniia, problemy, poiski. Vremia peremen" (In the Countries of Socialism: Realizations, Problems and Research. The Time of Changes), Kommunist, 18, December 1989, pp. 73–77.
[7] See L. Shevtsova, "Kuda idet Vostochnaia Evropa?" (Where is East Europe Going?), Mirovaia Ekonomika i Mezhdunarodnye Otnosheniia, 4, April 1990, pp. 86–105.
Parties would be ousted from power, stated that, apart from Poland, there were "strong chances that the GDR, Czechoslovakia, Hungary and Bulgaria will successfully embark on a social-democratic road of the type taken by Sweden...." Whatever the outcome, the report underlined that the changes taking place in the region "cannot adequately be characterized by the old bipolar categories of a 'capitalist-socialist' view of the world."[8]
The efforts made by perestroika 's leaders and ideologues to downsize the upheavals going on in Eastern Europe can be explained in several different ways. They were aimed at not ceding too much ground to their political adversaries within the USSR. But it also simultaneously helped them to rationalize what was happening and not to lose, all of a sudden, the compass which had guided them up to that point. Between rationalization and belief, the border is often very fine or even impossible to draw, and we are touching here on the complex issue of the role of ideology in political action. Soviet leaders still needed to give a meaning to their actions, even when these began seriously slipping away from them. This writer asked Gorbachev, in light of the remarks (cited at the beginning of this chapter) he had made to Ceausescu in early December 1989, well after the fall of the Berlin Wall, if he really believed that reformed socialism still had a chance in Eastern Europe or if it had been statement of convenience, given his interlocutor. He answered: "Yes, at that moment, we believed that the guarantee of real freedom of choice and of real sovereignty in Central and Eastern Europe would act in favor of socialism."[9]
In a speech given to a foreign audience at the end of December 1989, Eduard Shevardnadze made remarks in this regard that must be considered significant. Speaking before the European Parliament in a slightly defensive tone, he warned against "the eagerness to make declarations about the end of History and of socialism." What was necessary, he said, was to make "a distinction between a specific model of socialism ... and the idea of socialism as a component of the global process of civilization." Speaking of Eastern Europe, he declared himself "convinced that socialist-type orientations will continue to guide these societies." He
[8] Marina P. Sil'vanskaia and Vyacheslav Dashichev, Preobrazovaniia v Vostochnoi Evrope i pozitsiia SSSR (The Transformations in Eastern Europe and the Position of the USSR), nonpublished report to the Central Committee; text presented to the author by Marina Sil'vanskaia.
[9] M. S. Gorbachev, Otvety na voprosy professora Zh. Leveka (Responses to Questions from Professor Jacques Lévesque), Moscow, 12. July 1995.
chose to see the recent events as proof of the compatibility between Western values and those defended by Gorbachev in the USSR, and of East-West convergence: "Now, while socialism is undergoing an evolutionary process, it is legitimate to dream and to speak of the future as a time when, on the basis of new, common, universal values, a synthesis of the best and most generous realizations of political and social thinking on a world scale will become reality."[10]
Still abroad, but this time in private during the Malta summit, Gorbachev made similar remarks to George Bush. Joined by Yakovlev, he asked his American counterpart, with some irritation, "Why are democracy, transparency and the market [!] 'Western' values?" Bush responded that this was "because they have long been those of the United States and Western Europe," to which Gorbachev retorted, with insistence, that "they are also ours" and that "they are universal values."[11] It was as if he feared that the USSR might be in the process of losing its own identity.
His illusions about the preservation of a certain form of socialism in the region seemed to be supported by the new leaders there, or maybe by how he chose to understand what they were saying. He relates, for instance, that during a meeting with President Vaclav Havel in February 1990, the latter had told him that it was erroneous "to believe that Czechoslovakia will return to capitalism."[12] Havel supposedly even added that "if the Soviet press were to state that I want to liquidate socialism, they would be mistaken."
Nearly one year later, at the end of 1990, when Communist reformers had been ousted from power nearly everywhere in Eastern Europe, and the new governments were doing everything in their power to eradicate the entire Communist and socialist legacy, Yakovlev (who at that time had been totally marginalized within Gorbachev's entourage) told Lilly Marcou:
Despite the confusion of the current situation, I believe that the Left will win. Through the return to universal values and the process of European integration, the socialist idea is taking root in Europe. The way out of this dead end that was the Cold War will be through perestroika in the USSR and through the evolution in the other East European nations. In the middle range, a great
[10] Pravda, 20 December 1989.
[11] Transcript of the conversation reprinted in Mikhail Gorbachev, Avant Mémoires (Paris: Odile Jacob, 1993), p. 127.
[12] Gorbachev, Erinnerungen, p. 887.
process of positive reappraisal of what has been rejected is inevitable; in the long range, the Left will rediscover other horizons. For the moment, the people are refusing socialism: the idea has stumbled on the real conditions of East European countries; it was destroyed by the Stalinist counterrevolution. Now that the Stalinist model has been eliminated, we will see the emergence of a post-Thermodor socialism. This new socialism, which will no longer know bureaucratic oppression, will be made in the name of mankind.[13]
Several years later, in 1994, the entourage of Gorbachev, with the exception of Yakovlev, who was no longer part of it, could take some consolation from the return of the reformed Communists to power in Poland, Hungary, and Bulgaria, and to see in it "a positive reappraisal of what has been rejected." But in 1990, the crest of the wave had yet to come—and it was to come for the Soviet Union itself.
The CPSU's Adaptation
If the whole Soviet political world was caught unprepared, to varying degrees, by the collapse of the East European regimes, it must be said that Gorbachev and his team were able to recover more quickly than their conservative adversaries. This fact is all the more striking since the conservatives, without having been able to predict the pace, had not stopped warning in private about the disastrous consequences which the Party leadership's policy risked engendering. Nonetheless, it took them several months before they were able to offer Gorbachev's policies a resistance that was relatively efficient and sustained. This opposition only began to be felt as such from September 1990. The chronic incapacity of the conservative forces to reverse Gorbachev's policies, if not to overthrow the leader himself, constitutes one of the most remarkable characteristics of the political process that lasted from his accession to power until the end of the USSR. It is notably due to their strongly ingrained habit to operate under a clearly identified command and in solidly established institutional framework and rules.[14] But this subject, in itself, would merit an in-depth study.
[13] Aleksandr Yakovlev, Ce que nous voulons faire de l'Union soviétique, Entretiens avec Lilly Marcou (Paris: Le Seuil, 1991), p. 104.
[14] Ligachev's memoirs bear eloquent witness to his continual loyalty to the cadre and to the leading bodies of the Party, and ultimately to Gorbachev himself, despite the continual political divergences with him and his circle. See Yegor Ligachev, Inside Gorbachev's Kremlin (New York: Pantheon Books, 1993).
In the months that followed the collapse of the East European regimes, and in large measure as a result of it, the reformist camp in the Soviet Union fragmented, with the most radical elements abandoning the Party and even the idea of reformed socialism itself.
In a surprising way, it was Gorbachev and his immediate entourage who succeeded in getting back on track most quickly. As he had been able to do with success in the past under difficult conditions, the Soviet leader again managed to retake the initiative in order to accelerate changes within the USSR. It somewhat resembled the aftermath of the March 1989 elections for the Congress of People's Deputies (CPD), when, faced with the unexpected extent of the apparatus's defeat, he had seized the opportunity and demoted a considerable number of Central Committee members—something he had not been able or dared to do before.
If the Soviet leadership had great difficulties recognizing the new realities in Eastern Europe and adapting itself to them, it was still, overall, adjustment which won out over resistance, in its global political approach and its "program," even if this term, which presupposes an articulated, structured vision, cannot truly be adequate. Tangible proof of this is offered by the Central Committee's adoption in early February 1990 of a resolution, which Gorbachev succeeded in pushing through, abandoning Article 6 of the Soviet constitution, which guaranteed the Communist Party's leading role. At the same time, he had the principle of political party pluralism adopted, with the conditions of accreditation remaining to be fixed by a new law. This was a crucial step in the process of social-democratization which the CPSU never fully achieved. The decisions pushed through by Gorbachev actually meant the abandonment of the "dictatorship of the proletariat" (in reality, the dictatorship of the Party), which had been the main traditional line of demarcation between Leninism and social democracy. They sought to give a new legal, definitive form to the slogan of perestroika, according to which power for the Party ought to be gained and preserved through political means. These decisions did not, though, signify an admission of socialism's possible defeat in the USSR. On the contrary, they were aimed at assuring its viability through its adaptation to the "universal values." On the other hand, the preservation of a certain number of safeguards, notably on the ownership of land, were to continue to be ensured by law.
One can see a dialectic relation between the evolution of Gorbachev and the CPSU, and the events in Eastern Europe. On the one hand, it was marked by a willingness of the Soviet Union to adapt, to a certain
extent, to the new realities which had been created in Eastern Europe. On the other, as we have seen in chapter 7, the issue of party pluralism had already been debated, behind closed doors, in the CPSU leadership during the summer of 1989. That is why the Gorbachev leadership was able to accept, even though with considerable reluctance, the transformations which took place in the region in late 1989. In a certain way, one can agree with Karoly Grosz when he says: "It is not the collapse of the East European regimes that led to the collapse of the USSR.... It is the opposite which took place."[15] If the USSR's collapse is understood as being the erosion of Leninism, then it is indeed due to this that the Soviet leaders accepted and encouraged the political changes which led to the earthquake of 1989.
The opposite of Grosz's proposition nonetheless remains true as well. Just as the fall of the Berlin Wall precipitated the collapse of the East European regimes, the latter also gave a formidable accelerating push to the USSR's implosion, which had hardly begun in 1989. And just like the countries of Eastern Europe flooded through the breach which opened up in the Berlin Wall, Lithuania would seek, as of early 1990, to escape through the enormous chasm which had suddenly been formed to the west, in its immediate neighborhood.
The Baltic Republics: A Domestic Microcosm of Eastern Europe
Mikhail Gorbachev's policy toward developments taking place in the Baltic republics in 1989 is extremely revelatory about Soviet policy in Eastern Europe during the same period and helps to illuminate it. The parallels in the Soviet leadership's approach and behavior are striking on several levels. But the parallels stop in 1990. However, the parallels of 1989 as well as Soviet behavior of 1990 and 1991 with respect to the Baltic states allow for rejecting the thesis that the Soviet leaders had wanted to abandon or get rid of Eastern Europe.
The creation of the Popular Fronts in the Baltic republics in the summer and fall of 1989 was perceived in Moscow by Gorbachev and his reformist assistants as a positive development. In fact, the Lithuanian front "Sajudis" ("the Movement"), which was to become the most radical of the fronts, had taken as its full name "the Movement for Perestroika ." Clearly nationalist from the beginning, it did not immediately
[15] See chapter 7.
advocate independence or separation. As we have already underscored, at least 50 percent of its members were also members of the Communist Party, and the latter's first secretary had participated with benevolence and consent at its founding congress. In both Moscow and among the reformist leadership of the Lithuanian Party, a relationship of osmosis between the two organizations was expected to emerge. In this way, the Party was to be "revitalized," becoming more sensitive to national aspirations and giving a more nationalist content to its actions. On the other hand, by joining and enveloping Sajudis, the Party could help to keep nationalism within acceptable limits. We know what happened. From the end of 1988 into 1989, Sajudis became openly pro-independence. Without going that far, the Lithuanian Party, in order to adjust to and follow the general trend, used an increasingly nationalist discourse, concentrating on the demand for sovereignty in various spheres. Despite this, Gorbachev, according to one of his most important lieutenants, bristled on several occasions against Ligachev's alarmism on these questions and his insistent desire to reestablish order there.[16]
In the March 1989 federal elections, Sajudis had won 75 percent of the seats reserved for Lithuania in the USSR Congress of People's Deputies. in addition, if the Lithuanian Party's first secretary, Algirdas Brazauskas, was elected to the CPD, it was because Sajudis did not field an opponent against him. Certainly, the presence of a group of pro-independence deputies in the CPD of the Soviet Union did not modify Lithuania's status. Moreover, Sajudis had not yet set a date for realizing independence. Nonetheless, these events made it possible to predict the turn that the situation in Lithuania could take at the next elections at the level of the Union republics. Two months later, in May, a Politburo meeting, of which we now know the contents, was dedicated to the situation in the Baltic republics. The heads of the Communist Parties of the three republics had been called to Moscow, and a report prepared by six Politburo members was discussed. The report found that a "disaster" (razgromnaia ) situation existed and underscored that power was in the process of slipping into the hands of the Popular Fronts. At the end of the discussion, Gorbachev outlined the conclusions he had drawn and simultaneously set the course of policy to be followed. Addressing the heads of the Baltic Parties, he told them: "We have confidence in the three
[16] See Anatolii Cherniaev, Shest' let s Gorbachevym: po dnevnikovym zapisiam (Six Years with Gorbachev: From Journal Notes) (Moscow: Progress Kul'tura, 1993), pp. 249–250.
of you, and it cannot be otherwise.... It is impossible that the Popular Fronts, to which go percent of the people in the republics adhere, could be considered extremists. We must learn how to have discussions with them."[17] He expressed his conviction that "if we hold a referendum there, none of the three, not even Lithuania, will leave." He recommended delegating governmental responsibilities to the leaders of the Fronts, in order to give them the opportunity (or responsibility) of matching their words to their actions, presuming that it would not be the inverse which would occur. He added that there was no need "to become anxious about a differentiation in their use of sovereignty."
One is struck here by Gorbachev's serenity and the faith he could have in perestroika . A given republic's secession seemed to him absurd, and hence unthinkable. He totally underestimated the force of nationalism, persuaded that a number of concessions and adjustments would be enough to appease it. Certain of the Soviet Union's fundamental solidity, he was convinced that it possessed sufficient powers of retention to circumscribe and manage this type of problem, which he visibly did not believe to be a priority. Beyond Yakovlev, he was not the only reformer to see things in this way.[18]
Just as when confronted with other problems, Gorbachev saw in perestroika as much a necessity as a panacea. This explains why he added, under the cover of a conclusion, that it was necessary "to ponder and ponder again on how to transform our federation in practice. Otherwise everything will, indeed, disintegrate."[19] Yet, a special Central Committee plenum on the nationalities question, long announced, kept being put off. We also see here Gorbachev's ascendancy in the Politburo at the time, given the way he was able to shrug off rather easily a report of six of its members.
[17] See a report of Gorbachev's conclusions in Cherniaev, Shest' let s Gorbachevym, p. 295.
[18] In February 1989, upon returning to Moscow from a stay in Vilnius, the author of this book had a discussion with the economist Nikolai Shmelev about the situation in Lithuania and the political preponderance that Sajudis and its pro-independence option had secured there. I asked him if he did not believe that this was the most difficult problem which the USSR would have to face in the near future, barring a resort to the mechanisms of repression, with all the consequences that would engender. He expressed the opposite opinion. Speaking of the Lithuanians and the Baltic peoples, he said: "These are civilized people, with whom we will necessarily find common ground. The demands for independence are a bargaining position to gain the maximum possible, but a compromise will certainly be found. The most vexing and dangerous problem is the absence of economic reform taking off."
[19] Cherniaev, Shest' let s Gorbachevym, p. 295.
Several months later, quite soon after the debacle in Eastern Europe, on December 20, 1989, the Lithuanian Communist Party, despite warnings from Gorbachev, declared its independence from the CPSU. It understood this as a move to adjust itself to the ongoing evolution. Moscow hence formally and definitively lost all control over the Lithuanian Party and therefore over the principal political lever it counted on to retain and circumscribe nationalism in that Baltic republic. Rather courageously, Gorbachev personally went to Vilnius on January 11, 1990, in order to try, by persuasion, to reverse the course of events. It was the first time that a general secretary had gone to the small Lithuanian capital while in power. He mixed with the crowds and harangued them, using all imaginable arguments to convince them of the absurdity and dangers of secession. He expressed thinly veiled threats of economic reprisals. At the same time, he promised a law which would specify the procedures for exercising the right to secession enshrined in the constitution since Stalin's days. The law which was to be promulgated contained enough rules and constraints to make secession practically impossible.
In early March, Sajudis easily won the Lithuanian Supreme Soviet elections. Despite warnings from Moscow and the United States (communicated to the leader of Sajudis by the American ambassador), the new Supreme Soviet unilaterally declared Lithuania's independence on March 11, 1990. This was the first attempt at secession and the first proclamation of independence on the territory of the Soviet Union. Without the collapse in Eastern Europe, Sajudis would still have won the Lithuanian elections, but it certainly would not have dared to defy the center's power so rapidly and totally nor would the Lithuanian Communist Party have dared to leave the CPSU.
Just as in the case of Eastern Europe, Gorbachev's behavior toward Lithuania until the end of 1989—the encouragement given to the Lithuanian Party in its transformations, his permissiveness, the refusal to listen to warnings, and his neglect—might have led to the belief that he had decided to abandon the Baltic republics. His later behavior clearly proved the contrary. Indeed, after having had the Lithuanian declaration of independence voted illegal and without standing by an overwhelming majority of the USSR Supreme Soviet, he used all of the legal, economic, and political means, including the threat of using force, to stop its independence, without going to the ultimate end of his threat. He never accepted the secession of Lithuania and the other Baltic
republics.[20] It was only after the August 1991 coup, when he had lost all real power and was under pressure from Yeltsin and the United States, that he was obliged to resign himself to the fait accompli.
In the case of Eastern Europe, which belonged to the sphere of international relations, the means for stopping the course of events were more limited and the possible consequences of their use much more costly. That is why adjustment and adaptation won out over resistance, even if both components remained present. Even if they had to progressively bury their idea of a reformed socialism in Eastern Europe, Gorbachev and Shevardnadze continued to cling, as much as they could, to their project of a new European order. They did so through a constant, forced process of rationalization and adjustment that, at the end of the day, resulted in emptying the project of its initial meaning.
In December 1989, they could state with superficial calm, and not without reason, that a giant step had been taken toward ending the division of Europe and that the Cold War belonged to the past. But the configuration of Europe's possible future was likely to be very different from that which they had envisaged and sought. They began to feel it shortly after the fall of the Berlin Wall. They believed, however, that they had given enough proof of good behavior, and that they still had enough political instruments and guarantees from their foreign partners, to be able to save the essence of their European policy.
The policy which they followed until the summer of 1990 with respect to the process of German reunification gives eloquent testimony to the efforts they deployed to defend the European project which had so conditioned and permeated their policy in Eastern Europe and which continued to do so, even more than before.
[20] In his memoirs, Cherniaev recounts how he was harshly dressed down by Gorbachev for suggesting to him in a private conversation that it might be better to let the Baltic republics go (ibid., p. 338).