Soviet Union: The Andropov Era Begins

A new leader takes charge, but his skills remain to be tested

In his first week in office, Yuri Andropov, the newly appointed head of the Soviet Communist Party, moved quickly and confidently to convey the impression that he was in charge. Meeting with the largest group of world leaders to converge upon Moscow in Soviet history, Andropov behaved with the consummate skill of an experienced statesman, stressing old alliances and signaling new approaches with a judicious handshake, a perfunctory nod or a quiet invitation for future talk.

The Soviet Union’s first transfer of power in 18 years had apparently gone smoothly. Most important, the replacement of a leader who had been a virtual invalid for several years by a man with proven abilities as a decision maker offered hope that Moscow could finally begin to deal with issues that had long been neglected. Said a top British official: “The vibes we are getting from Moscow suggest a strong emphasis on continuity in domestic and foreign policy, but with the odds on longer-term initiatives in the economy and foreign affairs.”

Yet no one could be sure that the leadership battle was definitely over. Although Andropov decisively occupied center stage at the elaborate ceremonies surrounding the funeral of his predecessor, Leonid Brezhnev, leaving any rivals far in the background, the country’s gerontocratic leadership had not substantially changed. Only when Andropov faces this week’s meeting of the 308-man Central Committee will his skills as a political infighter and his ambition to put his mark on the Soviet Union be tested.

The tone for the past week, indeed perhaps for the Andropov era, was set by the military honors that were accorded to Brezhnev on his final appearance in Moscow. The coffin carrying Brezhnev’s body was borne from the House of Trade Unions, where it had lain in state for three days, by six high-ranking officers as a procession of generals and admirals carried his medals on red cushions. The coffin was placed on a gun carriage drawn by an amphibious army scout car, the modern-day Soviet equivalent of the traditional horse-drawn caisson. Soldiers with fixed bayonets goose-stepped alongside the carriage as a military band played Chopin’s Funeral March. Said a Western diplomat: “It seemed as much a military event as the Nov. 7 parade.”

When the coffin reached Red Square, it was placed, with its lid removed, on a red-draped bier facing the Lenin Mausoleum. Three battalions of cadets from the three services stood at attention. Remarked the TV announcer describing the scene to a nationwide audience: “The most important goal of the last decade of his life was detente. Of course, he was deeply disappointed by the sharp change of policy of the U.S.” After speeches by Andropov, Defense Minister Dmitri Ustinov, Academy of Sciences President Anatoli Alexandrov and a factory worker, pallbearers led by Andropov on the left and by Premier Nikolai Tikhonov on the right carried the coffin to another bier behind the mausoleum. There the family bade its last farewell to Brezhnev. His widow Victoria was overcome by emotion as she kissed her husband’s face according to the Russian tradition. As an artillery salute boomed out and a military band played the national anthem, the coffin was lowered into its grave.

Most of the foreign dignitaries were intensely curious as they then waited for their first face-to-face meeting with Andropov at a reception in the Great Hall of St. George, the resplendent vaulted ceremonial room in the Grand Kremlin Palace. Few foreign leaders had ever seen much more of Andropov than his face in a line-up of Soviet leaders on a reviewing stand or a meticulously airbrushed photo that shaded out a decade or so of his 68 years. Unlike other Politburo members, Andropov had never traveled to the West, and during his 15-year tenure as head of the Committee for State Security (KGB) he had kept a conspicuously low profile.

As Andropov came in through a side door, accompanied by Tikhonov, Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko and Supreme Soviet Deputy Chairman Vasili Kuznetsov, the new Kremlin leader surprised everyone with his appearance. Pale and looking far older than in his official portraits, Andropov walked with a slow, distinctive gait. He put each leg forward cautiously, his head down as if he were studying the design on the red carpet laid in his path. One guest, a Briton, whispered, “Why, he can hardly see!” Indeed, as Andropov raised his head to face the waiting foreign envoys, his thick bifocal glasses betrayed a vision problem that seemed to explain the stooped, hesitant walk.

There was nothing hesitant, however, about the way he greeted the visitors, who included 32 heads of state, 15 Prime Ministers, 14 foreign ministers and four princes. Filing in first were the envoys from the Communist states of Eastern Europe. Andropov expressed no particular warmth toward General Wojciech Jaruzelski, Poland’s military ruler. Next came such allies as Cuban Party Chief Fidel Castro and Afghan President Babrak Karmal. They passed by briskly, exchanging only a few phrases with Andropov. But when Chinese Foreign Minister Huang Hua extended his hand toward Andropov’s, the slow-moving queue of dignitaries came to a halt for three minutes while the two men talked volubly through an interpreter. The tall, stooped Soviet leader looked more than ever like a Russian zhuravl, or crane, as he bent forward to speak to the diminutive Chinese envoy. By contrast, Andropov’s other greetings seemed lukewarm, even toward such friends of the Soviet Union as Indian Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and Syrian President Hafez Assad.

Finally, it was the turn of the U.S. delegates, Vice President George Bush and Secretary of State George Shultz. The Americans and the Russian looked at each other carefully as Viktor Sukhodrev, who had been Brezhnev’s interpreter, translated for Andropov. The new Soviet leader showed no inclination to display his reputed command of English. Knowing they had been invited to talk privately with Andropov in two hours, the Americans then moved on toward a large portrait of Brezhnev, draped in black, that had been set up on a table just beyond the receiving line. Nearly every delegation had stopped to face the portrait for a moment of silent contemplation. But Bush and Shultz, either deliberately or because they were absorbed by the prospect of the forthcoming meeting with Andropov, barely paused to glance at it.

At their meeting in the Green Room in the Kremlin, Andropov continued to speak exclusively in Russian. Bush and Shultz put forward the three main areas of U.S. concern: the Soviet Union’s attitude toward human rights; regional issues, like Afghanistan; and the U.S. hope for progress in the two sets of nuclear-arms-limitations negotiations now under way in Geneva. But what mattered most for the Americans at this first meeting was to get a measure of the new leader in the Kremlin. Concluded a Western diplomat in Moscow: “The main impression Bush and Shultz had was of Andropov’s great self-confidence and control. Andropov has been receiving one delegation after another as if he had been in office for months.”

Perhaps the most significant of Andropov’s encounters was with Huang, the first Chinese foreign minister to travel to Moscow since 1964. Huang had arrived from Peking with a message from the Chinese leadership expressing a desire to speed up consultations designed to normalize relations between the two Communist giants. Following his meeting with Andropov, Huang conferred for 90 minutes with Soviet Foreign Minister Gromyko. The same day, Pravda Editor Viktor Afanasyev told a group of visiting Japanese journalists that both Peking and Moscow might agree to reduce their military forces along the Soviet-Chinese border. Though just such a proposal has been expected by diplomats since Brezhnev made overtures to Peking earlier this year, the timing of Afanasyev’s statement seemed designed to give Andropov credit for a foreign policy initiative.

When Huang returned to Peking after his four-day stay in Moscow, he told reporters that he and Gromyko had discussed “ways of removing obstacles and promoting consultations between deputy foreign ministers to achieve progress on substantive matters.” A new round of talks would be held in Moscow, he said. Asked about the probable outcome, Huang replied: “I am optimistic.” When an announcement came the next day that Huang was retiring for reasons of health, to be replaced by his senior deputy, Wu Xueqian, China experts took a closer look at Huang’s seemingly unexceptional remarks. Inevitably, there was speculation that Huang might have exceeded his instructions in Moscow or that the Peking leadership was retreating from its friendlier stance toward the Soviets. Still, analysts in Peking and Washington doubted that the 69-year-old Huang, who is known to have been ill, would have been ousted for pausing too long to talk with Andropov on the Kremlin receiving line.

There were also some strangely discordant notes in Moscow. Just one day after Andropov held his cordial get-together with Bush and Shultz, Georgi Korniyenko, first Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs, blasted the Reagan Administration at a lunch in honor of 234 U.S. businessmen who had come to Moscow to discuss East-West trade. Speaking in English and without notes, he launched into a 90-minute attack on the Administration that seemed to reflect all the grievances of the Kremlin over the past three years. Korniyenko lambasted Washington’s trade sanctions and its policy toward Eastern Europe, but reserved most of his fire for the U.S. failure to ratify SALT II. He assailed Secretary of Defense Caspar Weinberger by name, saying that “Weinberger continues cursing the SALT II treaty, and he hasn’t even read it. He seems to be saying, ‘My mind is made up, don’t confuse me with the facts.’ ” At the end of the tirade, Korniyenko did urge talks between the businessmen and the Soviets, but then he curtly added, “Let’s meet and discuss whether it is better to have a democracy where everyone works, or one where there is 10% unemployment.”

The U.S. Ambassador, Arthur Hartman, who attended the lunch and sat patiently through the attack, decided to mount a counterstrike. At a panel discussion in front of the same group of U.S. businessmen, Hartman berated the Kremlin for a host of actions, including the invasion of Afghanistan and the Soviet Union’s human rights record. He defended U.S. trade sanctions, saying that “it is not realistic to isolate our economic relationship from our overall political relationship.” Hartman’s speech, which was unusually harsh for the ambassador, drew an immediate rebuttal from Georgi Arbatov, a fellow panelist and director of the Soviet Institute of the U.S.A. and Canada Studies. Denouncing Washington’s talk about human rights as “hypocritical,” Arbatov angrily criticized Washington’s treatment of American Indians and its role in El Salvador. Said he: “Don’t think we owe you something. We will not pay for the lifting of sanctions by changing our society.”

But then the verbal volley suddenly stopped. In a warm, conciliatory speech before the assembled businessmen at a Kremlin dinner, Premier Tikhonov called for “normal and, even better, friendly relations” between the two countries. At the end of Tikhonov’s talk, Hartman told the Premier, “Now that’s what I call a good speech.” Tikhonov smiled faintly.

What lay behind Korniyenko’s initial outburst? Soviet officials explained, with some embarrassment, that Korniyenko had simply been spouting on his own. Said a Soviet journalist: “It was a bureaucratic screw-up.” Perhaps. Although Soviet trade officials were taking the American businessmen aside last week and telling them to ignore Korniyenko’s speech, no one could be sure that it had not been intended as a deliberate warning that, however much Andropov may want to ease tensions with the U.S., he will not do so at the cost of abandoning fundamental Soviet policies.

The Reagan Administration certainly does not expect any major changes to come from Andropov soon. Said a senior State Department analyst last week: “We will probably see more of the same, a militant peace offensive, continued arms buildup at home and sidling up to China.” Still, most U.S. analysts admit that they do not really know much about Andropov’s views or, indeed, whether he possesses the power to carry out new ideas.

In spite of Andropov’s dramatic display of authority and self-assurance during his first week in office, many Sovietologists still doubted that he was as firmly entrenched as he seemed. Said a French government analyst: “If he has won the first round, he has not necessarily won the second. Though it is incontestable that Andropov seems to have things well in hand so far, there could be other rounds, especially in the realm of domestic policy. If he tries any reforms that are too threatening to the party bureaucracy, there could be a counterattack.” One top U.S. Sovietologist believes that Andropov’s appointment to the job of party chief, because it was announced only two days after Brezhnev’s death, must have been the result of a deal made within the Politburo alone. Says he: “The real views of the Central Committee and the rest of the party bureaucracy are still unclear.”

According to Cornell University’s Myron Rush, a specialist on how the Soviet Union changes its leaders, Andropov’s position in the Politburo remains vulnerable. Says Rush: “It will take six months to a year for Andropov to prevail over supporters of [his rival] Konstantin Chernenko—if he makes it at all. In spite of the fact that Andropov has initially prevailed in the Politburo, he cannot maintain control without placing his own partisans in the Politburo and building a following among other top party officials.” Rush notes that, unlike Chernenko, who was apparently Brezhnev’s choice, Andropov does not have a network of proteges in the party organization.

In Italy, a source close to the Prime Minister said that the biggest change Andropov can bring to the Kremlin is one of personality and style. Says he: “That is not enough to make a great deal of difference. The policymaking machinery of the Kremlin is so laborious, so heavy, that one man’s personality can make little difference—at least until Andropov has clearly consolidated his power. As of now, he is not supreme in the Politburo, and it may take many months for him to be sure enough of himself to take decisive action.”

The conservative government of British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher adopted an attitude that was, if anything, more cautious than that of the Reagan Administration. Said Thatcher in an address at the Guildhall in London: “In the weeks and months ahead we shall watch the new Soviet leadership earnestly for solid evidence of a willingness to work for genuine multilateral disarmament… But I cannot forget that over the past years, where the Soviet Union has advanced, it has done so not by the force of ideas but by force pure and simple.”

Other West Europeans hope that Andropov’s ascendancy will break the pattern of worsening East-West relations. Says Enrico Jacchia, director of Rome’s Center of Strategic Studies: “Our colleagues in the Soviet Union who were in close contact with Andropov before Brezhnev’s death have often spoken of him as a focal point for more flexible East-West relations.” Jacchia, like many Europeans, fears that Washington may pass up an opportunity to exploit openings. “Clearly, there is something new beginning to move in Moscow. Will Reagan and his people react positively to this?”

The first clues to Andropov’s relative strength will emerge this week when the Central Committee meets in Moscow. To build his strength, Andropov will probably seek to place his supporters in the key positions that are now vacant on the Politburo (see box). Still, whether Andropov succeeds in getting his allies into the Politburo and the Central Committee Secretariat will not be evident for some time, simply because no one outside a small circle of top party leaders knows precisely who Andropov’s supporters are.

Far easier to interpret will be the choice of a new President of the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet, a.government post that Brezhnev held concurrently with that of Party General Secretary for the last five years of his life. Although the presidency is largely a ceremonial position, it does confer an aura of importance on the man who fills it. Speculation in Moscow last week centered on Chernenko or Tikhonov for the presidency if Andropov does not aspire to it himself. Andropov’s behind-the-scenes maneuvering should keep him fully occupied as he moves to consolidate his power. Meanwhile, the signals emanating from Moscow are likely to remain ambiguous, if not downright confusing. —By Patricia Blake. Reported by Erik Amfitheatrof/Moscow