The Soviet rim.

The Soviet Rim

WE HAVE BECOME accustomed to odd sights appearing on the television transmissions from Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union, but the spectable of the president of the Soviet Union arguing--arguing!--with Lithuanians about the prudence of secession from the USSR was a particularly jolting one. Fantastically and unexpectedly, the Soviets have apparently decided that they would turn Eastern Europe free from Communist rule; now, it appears, they may be willing to let some of the republics of the Soviet Union itself secede. Its an exhilarating prospect, but two notes of caution are in order. First, there is no guarantee that this will happen peacefully, on the basis of comfortable, American-style compromises. The Lithuanian crowds, though reasonably affectionate toward Gorbachev, showed him precious little deference, and there was nothing to indicate that they would accept anything less than independence, and that right quickly. Nor will the wave of secession stop here: many of the other republics are no less bent on getting out from under not only Communist but Russian rule. Indeed, at this very moment mobs of Azerbaijanis are sacking Communist Party offices in their republic, lynching Armenians, and tearing down the border with Iran. Beyond all this lies the great prize: the Ukraine, the Soviet Union's bread basket and its ancient heartland. Hardheaded Soviet leaders might think themselves well rid of troublesome Balts and Moslems, but if they shed all of the dissident nationalities they will be left with a rump Russian republic, huge and well-populated by most standards, but a humiliating remnant of the the Czars' patrimony. It is almost inconceivable that they would permit such disintegration without a fight, and impossible that this could happen without the usual horrors of imperial collapse--the flight of refugees, outbursts of aggrieved hypernationalism, the settling of old scores.

Secondly, we should take note of Gorbachev's speeches to the Lithuanians, for what they tell us about him. Characteristically, the Western media has picked up on his sidelong acceptance of a multiparty system, but they neglected other remarks worthy of attention. Gorbachev told the Lithuanians that he seeks to restore the original Leninist conception of the USSR, discarding merely its Stalinist perversions. And he informed them that they must stay in the Soviet Union because "politics follows economics," and economics dictates the continuation of the old empire. Both remarks suggest that this remarkable man remains in the grip of at least some Marxist-Leninist concepts. As Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn so brilliantly demonstrated in the Gulag Archipelago, however, all that made the Soviet Union a totalitarian regime stems from Lenin. And if the history of the Soviet emprie teaches anything it is that economics follows politics--that the manifold ruin of production, of society, and nature has resulted from the political system imposed by the Bolsheviks.

All this means that Gorbachev, who is a brilliant politician, is not, pace his unthinking admirers, necessarily a visionary statesman. His campaign against vodka not only failed to stop alcoholism (such unusual beverages as perfume and antifreeze went into short supply, and sugar for home brewing disappeared from the shops): it contributed to a massive budget deficit by cutting off a large chunk of state revenue. His economic reforms have gone nowhere. Thus, we may be seeing not the careful planning of a leader of genius, but the expedients of a clever--but increasingly desperate--improviser. Conceivably, one day he will run out of tricks, and the forces that he has unleashed will carry him and his nation to the abyss. One hopes policy-makers have begun thinking how they might contain such a catastrophe, while preserving the good that has, undeniably, occurred thus far. At the bare minimum, the events in Lithuania should cool our ardor for precipitate cuts in the defense budget and large withdrawals of our forces from the Soviet periphery.