Reagan: The Life (104 page)

The topic of elections prompted Reagan to say that the United States supported Gorbachev’s steps toward democracy under
glasnost. He said he didn’t want to offend the general secretary, but he couldn’t resist telling a story he had recently heard from an American academic who visited the Soviet Union. The professor said that as he left his house in his home city, he was taken to the airport by a part-time taxi driver who was about to finish college. He asked the young man what he would do after he got his degree. “He replied that he had not yet decided,” Reagan said. In the Soviet Union the professor had ridden in another taxi, similarly driven by a college student. He posed the same question as to what would come next. The driver said he didn’t know—“they haven’t told me yet.”

Gorbachev frowned. He said he knew the president liked anecdotes,
and Russia was a land rich with them. But he said he had a request to make of the president: “that you not ask Matlock to collect anecdotes for you.”

The meeting ended with nothing accomplished or agreed upon. Yet Gorbachev, referring to the treaty signing, said the day had been a success. “It is a bridge to the future. The Soviet side is ready to build it over. By the time the president comes to Moscow, the two sides of the bridge should be locked together.”

“They should meet in the middle,” Reagan replied.

Gorbachev said he concurred completely.

T
ALKS THE NEXT
day produced modest progress. Reagan pitched a START package that included 50 percent reductions in strategic weapons and an explicit acknowledgment of the right of both sides to test defensive systems outside the laboratory, including in space. Ignoring the reservations of Weinberger, Reagan proposed that each side commit to share with the other what it learned from the testing.

Gorbachev, as before, rejected the concept of strategic defense. The president’s proposal, he said, would simply trigger a new arms race. Gorbachev repeated what he had said at Reykjavík about the Soviet Union’s not intending to match the Americans SDI for SDI. “
It would develop a response,” he said. “But that response would take a different path from SDI.” For this reason alone the president’s technology-sharing provision was unacceptable.

Gorbachev nonetheless made a crucial concession on SDI. He accepted the principle of 50 percent cuts in strategic arms while saying nothing about confining SDI testing to the laboratory. He insisted only that the United States commit to a period of nonwithdrawal from the
ABM Treaty; during that time testing, but not deployment, of SDI could proceed. Gorbachev indicated that the Soviet Union considered SDI a losing proposition, regardless of what the Americans did. “It could wear out the Soviet economy,” he said. “It is up to the United States to decide if SDI makes sense for itself in economic terms; the Soviet Union has decided it does not.” Should the United States deploy SDI at the end of the nonwithdrawal period, the Soviet Union would respond, but by more cost-effective methods than SDI. “For the Soviet side, it would be less expensive to explore ways other than through SDI-type deployments to ensure its security,” Gorbachev said.

Reagan reiterated that SDI was central to his vision of a nuclear-free world. “The secret of nuclear weapons is spreading inexorably,” he said. “If the U.S. and the Soviet Union ever reach the point where they have eliminated all their nuclear arms, they will have to face the possibility that a madman in one country or another could develop a nuclear capability for purposes of conquest or blackmail.” Reagan knew Gorbachev would cringe, but he trotted out once more the analogy from the period after
World War I, when
poison gas had been outlawed. “People kept their gas masks,” Reagan said. “There will always be a need for defense.”

Gorbachev said he needed an American commitment to nonwithdrawal from the ABM regime. “If the U.S. wants the 50 percent reductions, there has to be a commitment of ten years on the ABM Treaty.” He observed that nothing would come of SDI before that time anyway.

Reagan refused to limit SDI in any manner. He didn’t think he should have to. His voice rising, he said, “I don’t want to talk about links to SDI but about 50 percent reductions, about how the hell the two sides are to eliminate half their nuclear weapons. I want to talk about how we can sign an agreement like the one we signed yesterday, an agreement which made everyone in the world so damned happy it could be felt in the room at dinner last night. Let’s get started with it!”

“I’m ready,” Gorbachev said. But he could not go forward without reaffirmation of the ABM Treaty.

N
ANCY
R
EAGAN MADE
certain to participate fully in this summit. And she found
Raisa Gorbachev as insufferable as ever. “
Raisa and I hadn’t seen each other in two years, but nothing much had changed,” Nancy wrote later. While their husbands prepared to sign the
INF Treaty, Nancy hosted a reception for Raisa,
Barbara Bush, and several other women. “I had a fairly good idea of what to expect, but my guests were taken completely aback when Raisa proceeded to lecture us for the entire hour about the history of Russia, its political system, and how there were no homeless people in the Soviet Union,” Nancy recalled. “Later, one of the guests came up to me and said, ‘That was the rudest thing I’ve ever seen.’ The others just shook their heads in amazement. I was glad that other people could see what I had been going through.” Nancy noted disapprovingly that Raisa didn’t ask about her struggle with cancer or offer condolences on the death of her mother. “The Soviets know everything, so I can’t believe she didn’t know what I had gone through only a few weeks earlier. Maybe I was overly sensitive, but I don’t think so.”

Nancy grudgingly took Raisa on a tour of the White House. She had extended an invitation three weeks earlier, but Raisa had been slow to respond. “I was offended,” Nancy said. “In the circle we moved in, you don’t ignore an invitation from the head of state or his wife.” Eventually, Raisa said she would come but at a different time than Nancy had mentioned, as her schedule was very demanding. Yet she made time to speak with reporters. One asked her whether she would like living in the White House. She said that it seemed like a museum rather than a regular house. Nancy simmered. “It wasn’t a very polite answer,” she said, “especially from somebody who hadn’t even seen the private living quarters.”

Nancy’s vexation extended into the state dinner she had arranged for that evening. “The Gorbachevs were understandably tired from their long trip,” she recounted. “Because they had specifically requested an early evening, we made several changes in our routine to allow them to leave by ten o’clock, as they had asked.” Nancy canceled a private reception she had planned for the Yellow Oval Room. She ordered that coffee be served at the dining tables in the State Dining Room rather than separately in the Blue Room. She told the violinists she had hired for the evening to trim their repertoire. Even
Van Cliburn, the musical star of the evening, was urged to keep it short.

“After making all these changes to ensure an early evening, I was slightly annoyed when the Gorbachevs arrived late for dinner,” Nancy recalled. Yet that wasn’t the worst. “The real holdup came in the receiving line. Maybe it’s a cultural difference and she was merely trying to be polite, but Raisa tried to have a real conversation with practically every guest. ‘What is your name? How many children do you have?’ She seemed very well briefed on who many of our guests were, and she obviously wanted them to know this. But the line was moving like molasses, and I thought I would go crazy.”

I
F
R
AISA
G
ORBACHEV
registered Nancy’s annoyance, she gave no sign. Neither did her husband, who seemed to enjoy himself at the dinner. Nancy seated
Richard Perle, the combative assistant secretary of defense, at the same table as Gorbachev, doubtless in part so she, seated at Gorbachev’s side, wouldn’t have to carry the conversation. Perle, a stout man, had been played by a slim actor in a British television re-creation of the Reykjavík summit. Gorbachev teased him: “
When I saw you on television, you were a lot thinner.”

Perle responded by asking Gorbachev what percentage of Soviet economic production went to the military.

“That’s a secret,” Gorbachev replied.

“Are you sure you know?” Perle demanded.

“I know
everything
,” Gorbachev said. “I’m head of the defense council, so you’re dining with a military man.”

“I think you’re spending twenty percent, and probably more,” Perle said.

Gorbachev turned away, leaving Perle to guess. But he enjoyed the evening. “
During those days so full of interesting meetings there were
some truly emotional moments,” he wrote in his memoir. “One was the dinner at the White House.
Van Cliburn gave a recital after dinner. We remembered him as the young pianist who had won the 1958 Tchaikovsky Prize in Moscow for his rendering of the great Russian composer’s first piano concerto. After exchanging an affectionate hug with us, Van Cliburn sat down at the grand piano and started softly playing and singing ‘Moscow Nights.’ This was a genuine gift for the Soviet guests. The song, which had been written by Soloviev-Sedoi for the 1957
Moscow Youth Festival, had become virtually an informal popular anthem. We could not resist the temptation and joined in, Russian and English lyrics blending into one emotion.”

Gorbachev’s good cheer infused his visit. He worked a Washington street crowd like a seasoned American pol. Ordering his limousine to stop, he leaped out and shook hands. “
Hello, I’m glad to be in America,” he told the first person he encountered, a woman. “I’m glad to be friends with all of you.” To another observer he said, “My people are pushing me very hard to come to a better understanding of the American people.” His exuberance took hold. A restaurant owner invited him in for borscht. A group of expense-account lunchers burst into applause when he waved. “Even from the balcony you could sense the charisma of the man,” one said. “It was almost like a parade or a celebration. There was a world leader out shaking hands and you kind of felt the world was going to be okay. None of us wanted to let go of the moment. It was such a warm moment, of love. I’m a cynic, but I got chills.”

He stirred an audience at a State Department reception hosted by
George Shultz. “
Today, hundreds of millions of people are gradually realizing that the end of the twentieth century represents a watershed for mankind,” Gorbachev said, “a watershed which separates not so much political systems and ideologies but common sense and the will to survive on the one hand, and irresponsibility, national egotism, prejudices—in short, the old thinking—on the other hand. Mankind has come to realize that it has had enough wars and that it is time to put them to an end for good.” Peace in the past had been based on a balance of force. This was dangerous. “Peace from a position of force is inherently weak, whatever people say about it. It is in the nature of such peace to be founded on confrontation, hidden or open, and on the permanent danger of flare-ups and the temptation to use force.” The world could not afford to continue to indulge this misconception. The
INF Treaty represented a first step beyond deterrence toward a new era of security based on trust. “To put it
in simple, human language, what we have achieved is—both in Russian and English—the revival of hope.”

He gave Reagan a parting gift. For years the president had complained about Soviet shipments of weapons to the Sandinistas in Nicaragua. Gorbachev had countered by criticizing the United States for arming the anti-Soviet
mujahedeen in Afghanistan. Gorbachev had already agreed in principle to withdraw Soviet troops from Afghanistan, rendering moot the arms question in that country. Now he told Reagan he would cut off the Sandinistas.

Reagan had hoped for greater progress on START. But he was willing to accept what he got. “
I think the whole thing was the best summit we’d ever had with the Soviet Union,” he wrote that evening.

R
EAGAN USUALLY CELEBRATED
St. Patrick’s Day. Being Irish was good fun and often good politics. But March 17 wasn’t fun in 1988. “
First talk was about 23 indictments against Col. North, John Poindexter, General Secord and Hakim,” he wrote in his diary, referring to
Richard Secord and
Albert Hakim, intermediaries in the Iran-contra affair, as well as his former national security adviser, Poindexter, and Poindexter’s deputy, North. “Nothing much to say really.”

Nor did he say much as the prosecution went forward. When questioned by reporters, he took refuge in the separation of powers: the courts must be allowed to do their duty. Politics constrained him no less than the law, for he couldn’t say anything without reminding his constituents of the most egregious blunder of his presidency.

He had more to say on a related but differently embarrassing topic. Don Regan’s anger didn’t diminish upon leaving the administration; he exacted his revenge in a memoir published in the spring of 1988. He led with the story of Nancy’s astrologer, which naturally riveted the attention of the media and the public. Reagan dismissed it, even to himself. “
The media are behaving like kids with a new toy,” he wrote. “Never mind that there is no truth in it.” The next day he recorded, “
A short meeting—some talk about this astrology mess Don Regan’s book has kicked up. Some gal in L.A. claims she’s a visitor to the White House and that she gives us frequent readings. She even claims she advised me on choosing George B. We’ve never seen her in our lives and don’t know her at all.”

Reagan was equally categorical in public, at first. During a business awards ceremony honoring ice-cream makers
Ben Cohen and Jerry Green
field, a reporter shouted a question: “
Mr. President, will you continue to allow astrology to play a part in the makeup of your daily schedule, sir?”

“I can’t,” Reagan replied, “because I never did.”

White House staffers were more circumspect. They didn’t deny the essence of the story, but they said Nancy hadn’t consulted her astrologer for months.
Joan Quigley thereupon told reporters she had been in contact with Nancy that very week.
Marlin Fitzwater, Reagan’s new chief spokesman, stood up for the First Lady even while implicitly undercutting the president. “
She certainly has every right to consult an astrologer,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I object to the implication it is wrong and therefore has to be discontinued.”