On August 1 in the Ukrainian capital of Kiev, Bush warned in a public speech that Americans would not aid those “who promote a suicidal nationalism based upon ethnic hatred.” Bush’s “Chicken Kiev” speech, as it was dubbed by American columnist William Safire, delighted Gorbachev and infuriated Ukrainians who were moving fast towards a break with Moscow. It was widely seen as evidence that Bush was as seriously out of touch about what was happening in the Soviet Union as Margaret Thatcher, who a year before said she could no more open an embassy in Kiev than she could in San Francisco.
With the Americans heading home, Gorbachev prepared to depart for a vacation at his presidential dacha at Cape Foros on the Black Sea. He told Chernyaev, using the diminutive of his aide’s first name, “I’m tired as hell, Tolya. Everywhere you look things are in a bad way.... Everything has become so petty, vulgar, provincial. You look at it and you think, to hell with it all! But who would I leave it to? I’m so tired.”
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He had everything riding on the new union treaty now. Before leaving on vacation, the Soviet president personally supervised preparations for a grand signing ceremony in the Kremlin’s St. George’s Hall on August 20, the day after he was due back from Foros. He spent hours with staff discussing the placing of flags, the arrangement of chairs for the republic presidents and diplomats, the state banners to be displayed behind them, the delicacies and champagne to be served, and even the typeface for the treaty document.
Before he set off for the three-hour flight to Crimea on August 4, Gorbachev had a visit from his disillusioned old friend Alexander Yakovlev, who informed him he was quitting as his adviser. He warned Gorbachev that if he didn’t get rid of the “dirty circle” around him, they would seize power. “You exaggerate,” replied Gorbachev dismissively.
A few days later a KGB source tipped off Yakovlev that hard-liners were conspiring to take control and that he and Shevardnadze were on a death list.
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Yakovlev sought out a radical ex-KGB officer, Oleg Kalugin, for advice. They met in a busy street to avoid listening devices. Would the security organs really try to kill them? he asked. “Kryuchkov is a madman—he might resort to anything,” replied Kalugin. KGB archives would later reveal that their conversation in the roadway was monitored by more than a dozen agents.
On August 16 Yakovlev resigned from the Communist Party and wrote an explanation for his action in the newspaper
Izvestia.
He had evidently got wind of the same information that Popov had. An “influential Stalinist group,” he warned in the article, “is planning an imminent coup.”
CHAPTER 16
DECEMBER 25: LATE AFTERNOON
“Dorogoi
(Dear) George, Happy Christmas to you and Barbara!” Gorbachev cries.
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It is late afternoon in the Kremlin, early morning in Camp David. His interpreter, Pavel Palazchenko, has succeeded at last in making the connection between the two presidents. Gorbachev takes the call at his office desk, as Palazchanko listens on a separate handset. Ted Koppel and his ABC crew are seated in front of Gorbachev, their sensitive microphone picking up both ends of the conversation. The president’s press secretary, Andrey Grachev, has brought them into the office to witness the historic exchange.
Speaking in Russian and addressing the U.S. president as ty, the form used for family and close friends, Gorbachev says, “George, let me say something to you that I regard as very important. I have here on my desk a decree as the president of the USSR on my resignation. I will also resign my duties as commander in chief and will transfer authority to use nuclear weapons to the president of the Russian Federation. So I am conducting affairs until the completion of the constitutional process. I can assure you that everything is under strict control. As soon as I announce my resignation, I will put these decrees into effect. There will be no disconnection. You can have a very quiet Christmas evening.”
Palazchenko is painfully aware that he is translating the last formal consultation between the two presidents, for whom he has interpreted many times. He cannot help wondering what is going through their minds. “Was Gorbachev perhaps thinking that Bush could have done more for him? Was Bush trying to rationalize some of his decisions?” Was the American president concluding that he has “done his best” but that things in Russia are “beyond his control”?
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Speaking as if he still has influence over events, Gorbachev tells the U.S. president, “The debate on our [new] union [treaty], on what kind of state to create, took a different tack from what I thought right. But let me say that I will use my political authority and role to make sure that this new commonwealth will be effective.”
It is important to promote cooperation rather than disintegration and destruction, Gorbachev adds. “That is our common responsibility. I emphasize this point.”
Knowing of Bush’s concern about the security of the USSR’s nuclear arsenal, Gorbachev promises him that he will ensure the safe transfer of the nuclear suitcase to the president of the Russian Republic this evening, immediately after he has left office.
“I am pleased that already at Alma-Ata the leaders of the Commonwealth worked out important and strategic agreements.... I attach great importance to the fact that this aspect is under effective control. I’ve signed a decree on this issue that will come into effect immediately after my final statement. You may therefore feel at your ease as you celebrate Christmas, and sleep quietly tonight.”
Unable to bring himself to mention Yeltsin by name, Gorbachev promises to support the new administration in Moscow. “But watch out for Russia,” he says. “They will zig and zag. It won’t all be straightforward.” As for himself, “I do not intend to hide in the taiga. I will be active in political life. My main intention is to help all the processes here, begun by perestroika and new thinking in world affairs.”
Glancing at the ABC crew, he adds “Your people, the media here, have been asking me about my personal relationship with you. I want you to know at this historic time that I value greatly our cooperation together, our partnership and friendship. Our roles may change, but I want you to know that what we have developed together will not change. Raisa and I send to you and Barbara our best wishes.”
Bush reassures Gorbachev that their friendship is as strong as ever, “no question about that.” He lavishes praise on his Kremlin counterpart. “What you have done will go down in history, and future historians will give you full credit for your accomplishments.”
He is also delighted to hear that his friend does not plan to “hide in the woods” and will stay involved politically and publicly. “I am totally confident that will benefit the new commonwealth.”
The American president recalls a visit Gorbachev made to Camp David the previous year and how to everyone’s amazement the Soviet leader tossed a ringer at his first try at the horseshoe pit where the president played one of his favorite games. Bush had presented Gorbachev with a horseshoe as a keepsake, and Gorbachev had given him in turn a map of U.S. military bases compiled by the KGB.
“You have found me up at Camp David once again,” he says. “We’re here with Barbara and with three of our children’s families.... The horseshoe pit where you threw that ringer is still in good shape.... I hope that our paths will cross again soon. You will be most welcome here. And indeed I would value your counsel after you have had a little time to sort things out. And perhaps we could do it right back up here at Camp David.”
Out of deference to Gorbachev, Bush also avoids mentioning the Russian president by name. He indicates that the White House’s relationship with Yeltsin will be cautious but not quite as friendly. “I will of course deal with respect—openly, forcefully and hopefully progressively—with the leader of the Russian republic and the leaders of these other republics . . . but none of that will interfere with my desire to stay in touch with you, to welcome suggestions from you as you assume whatever your new duties will be, and furthermore to keep intact the friendship that Barbara and I value very, very much.
“And so at this special time of year and at this historic time, we salute you and thank you for what you have done for world peace. Thank you very much.”
“Thank you, George,” replies Gorbachev, his hazel eyes growing misty. “I am glad to hear all of this today. I am saying good-bye and shaking your hands.”
Bush is deeply affected by the exchanges and the expressions of endearment. He senses that Gorbachev is drained of energy and uncertain about the future of the country he loves. He is taken aback later, when watching an account of the last day on ABC television news, to learn that his exchanges with Gorbachev were picked up by the camera crew. Normally conversations between himself and Gorbachev are private, overheard only by the interpreters and stenographers. “I could hear Bush clearly,” recalled Koppel. “It was one of those truly bizarre moments. Bush did not know I was listening and recording.”
After putting down the phone at Camp David and ending the telephone connection with Moscow, the U.S. president switches on a little tape recorder in which he sometimes confides his private thoughts after encounters with world figures. Gorbachev’s “was the voice of a good friend,” he murmurs into the machine. “It was the voice of a man to whom history will give enormous credit. There was something very moving about this phone call.... I don’t want to get too maudlin or too emotional, but I literally felt like I was caught up in real history with a phone call like this. It was something important. Some enormous turning point.” Before switching off the recorder, he adds, “God we’re lucky in this country! We have so many blessings.”
Anatoly Chernyaev feels that the ending of the Gorbachev-Bush tandem is an enormous loss to the world and that it is “ridiculous, provincial and unworthy of Russia to ignore Gorbachev’s contribution.” After the call he wonders if the rest of the world knows better Gorbachev’s contribution to the advance of civilization than the Russians themselves. “There has been an unwavering, genuine respect [abroad] for Gorbachev and gratitude for what he did. This is simply a matter of historical fact, and his epoch stands out as one of the most remarkable of the centuries.”
Andrey Grachev too has mixed feelings. He ponders how George Bush and James Baker wasted valuable time after coming to office in 1988 before engaging Gorbachev, and he convinces himself that they must share some of the blame for what is happening. “To Gorbachev the value of historic time was different. The balloon was losing air, approaching the earth. While the drama in the Soviet Union was Shakespearean, Baker’s reaction was methodical, calculated in America’s interest.”
Gorbachev takes one more international call—his last as president—from Hans-Dietrich Genscher, foreign minister and vice chancellor of Germany. Genscher wishes him well, a gesture that pleases Gorbachev, as their relationship had become frosty over what he thought was Genscher’s shabby treatment of him on a visit to Moscow in the autumn.
As Koppel begins another taped interview with Gorbachev for his documentary, Yegor Yakovlev asks Palazchenko in a whisper what the interpreter will do for a job, now that Gorbachev is resigning. Palazchenko tells Yakovlev that he hasn’t figured anything out yet. He has been offered employment in the Russian foreign ministry, but when Chernyaev had asked him if he had accepted, he had replied indignantly, “You can’t think I would do anything other than leave government.” He mutters to Yakovlev, “I know I just can’t go over to work for the new boss, like the staff of the Kremlin cafeteria.”
“That is my problem too,” confesses the Russian television chief, who seems to Palazchenko to be on the verge of tears.
3
At that moment Gorbachev looks over and notices how distressed Yegor Yakovlev is. Finishing his remarks to the ABC camera, he comes to commiserate with his old friend, like a bereaved person who finds the strength to comfort someone grieving on his behalf. “Well, Yegor, keep your chin up,” says the soon to be ex-president. “Everything is only just beginning.”
As the weak winter sunshine fades and the lights start coming on in the Russian White House on the other side of the city center, Boris Yeltsin decides that the time has come for him to talk to the world on television, to display his responsibility and statesmanship, before Gorbachev gives his farewell speech. He instructs his information minister Mikhail Poltoranin to call CNN and tell them the moment has arrived.
The CNN television crew come hurrying from their office in Building 7/4 on Kutuzovsky Prospekt, just across Novo-Arbatsky Bridge from the White House.
4
They are immediately let through security at the entrance and admitted to an ornate marble-walled banquet room.
Yeltsin has chosen this grand auditorium with massive chandeliers and large tapestries portraying pastoral scenes as an imposing backdrop for the big occasion. The crew arrange camera, lights, and chairs. They get a two-minute warning that Yeltsin is on his way.
For CNN this is an outstanding triumph, getting exclusive access on the last day of the Soviet Union to the president of Russia. The transition of power in the Soviet Union is the most important world story since the Gulf War ten months back, when the network scored a spectacular success with its coverage of the bombing of Baghdad. The Atlanta-based outfit has not only secured the sole television interview with Boris Yeltsin on his day of triumph. It has also acquired exclusive rights to broadcast live Gorbachev’s farewell speech to the globe from the Kremlin later in the evening. Ted Koppel and Rick Kaplan of ABC are already in the Kremlin but have nothing like the personnel and equipment needed for such a major television operation.
Founded by Ted Turner in Atlanta in 1980 as the world’s first round-theclock television news service, CNN invested heavily in the Soviet Union during its first decade. It located one of its pioneer foreign bureaus in the Russian capital. Turner brought the Goodwill Games to Moscow in 1986 to encourage competition between U.S. and Soviet athletes, after the United States boycotted the 1980 Olympic Games over the Soviet Union’s invasion of Afghanistan. On a trip to Russia during the early days of Gorbachev’s reforms, the CNN founder was so impressed by the new Communist Party general secretary that he suggested to a bewildered Soviet official that he should be made an honorary member of the party. The official politely demurred and offered him instead membership in the Soviet Union of Journalists, which Turner in turn declined, citing his distaste for trade unions of any kind.