The Soft-Sell of the Soviets' Top Salesman

Whatever else they may do, Soviet leaders seem to travel well.

In the first visit to the U.S. of a Soviet party boss since Nikita Khrushchev's boisterous tour in 1959, Leonid Ilich Brezhnev spent eight days in America, apparently taking ebullient joy in almost every moment of his stay as Richard Nixon's guest. His mission was, of course, deadly serious: he wants U.S. money, technological know-how and hardware to develop the Soviet economy. In return, he implied future flexibility on arms control and proffered access to the Soviet Union's cornucopia of raw materials and a considerable amount of purposeful good will and bonhomie. It was a masterly performance aimed at erasing in American minds the cold war image of Russia as antagonist and replacing it with a vision of a peaceful, stable and sophisticated trading partner.

One result was a marked contrast in the demeanor of host and guest. Shadowed by Watergate, Nixon often seemed subdued and ill at ease, anxious to stick to the schedule and limit the hoopla. Brezhnev, though largely kept out of public range for security reasons, acted when he had an audience like a back-slapping drummer. He took every opportunity to clown for photographers, converse with reporters and mix with folks, chatting and shaking hands. There were moments when the President of the U.S. almost found himself shunted to the sidelines, and on one occasion Nixon observed: "He's the best politician in the room."

Out of range of cameras and crowds, Brezhnev reverted to the more familiar role of the tough bargainer who has staked his own political career on improving relations with the U.S. for the benefit of the Soviet economy.

There were no monumental accords signed; yet the meetings enhanced both leaders' images as international statesmen. Overall, even the minor agreements served to spur on the momentum of cordial top-level negotiations between the two countries that began with Nixon's visit to Moscow last year.

Code of Ethics. The ritual of summitry requires that there be one surprise, no matter how mild. This session's package was an agreement of mutual forbearance from nuclear war, which included such points as consulting with each other if there is a risk of war and trying not to provoke confrontations with third countries. In essence, the document formalized practices already followed by both sides, like the Moscow-Washington hot line. But it also amounted to a pact between the two superpowers to cooperate--if not in managing the world, in managing world peace. Thus it applies to their relations with China as well as the Middle East and other world flashpoints, though the wording is vague enough to allow each government to pursue present policies, for instance American bombing in Cambodia or Russian intervention in Eastern Europe.

Of equal importance to that nuclear code of ethics was an agreement to complete SALT II negotiations for a permanent limit on offensive nuclear arms by the end of 1974, three years before the end of the five-year temporary "freeze" reached as part of SALT I last year. As further earnest of Brezhnev's good intentions, he joined with Nixon in concluding a wide range of agreements that had been worked out before the summit began. The two leaders also pledged their countries to:

> Increase cooperation in developing the peaceful uses of atomic energy, especially control of thermonuclear fusion and design of fast-breeder reactors.

> Exchange information on agriculture, particularly Soviet crop estimates that will enable U.S. and other Western farmers to plant in advance to meet likely Soviet demands.

> Swap technology on transportation. Some obvious topics: Soviet experience in cold-weather railroad operation and new underground mass transit systems; U.S. expertise in highway engineering and cargo containerization.

> Expand cooperative research in oceanography, including study of ocean currents and marine biology.

> End the double taxation of private citizens and companies of one country residing or operating in the other. For example, U.S. citizens in Russia now pay a flat 15% Soviet income tax.

> Continue cultural exchanges for another six years. This agreement dismayed some Americans because it freezes exchanges at present low levels.

> Create a Soviet-U.S. Chamber of Commerce to promote contacts between U.S. businessmen and Russian trade officials.

> Expand facilities to allow for Soviet and American embassy commercial counselors in Moscow and Washington, as well as grant permanent representation in Moscow to ten U.S. business firms and banks.

> Extend the routes of Aeroflot, the Soviet airline, beyond New York to Washington, and give the U.S. a run to Leningrad.

Verbally, the two leaders also agreed to continue their summitry. Nixon accepted Brezhnev's invitation to come to Moscow next year--perhaps in time to sign a SALT II agreement--and the Soviet leader said that he would like to return to Washington in 1975.

Brezhnev's thorniest selling problem turned on his desire for most-favored-nation status for Russia. That status was part of the Soviet-American trade treaty signed last October and would mean tariff cuts of 50% or more on Soviet imports into the U.S. But 77 Senators and 284 Representatives have backed legislation to deny M.F.N. to any nation that limits free emigration. Their chief concern is the plight of Soviet Jews who want to leave Russia.

Brezhnev met the problem head on. In an extraordinary gesture, he invited 25 leading Senators and Representatives to a luncheon at Blair House, his guest quarters in Washington. The meal was prepared by a Soviet chef, and over caviar, roast beef and five varieties of Russian wines and liqueurs, he tried to convince American Congressmen that nearly every Jew who had applied had been allowed to leave. Although Soviet emigration policy has eased markedly under pressure from the U.S., some of the Congressmen feared that the liberalization might end if M.F.N. were granted. Asked about this, Brezhnev declared: "We came here to consolidate good things, not to quarrel. We can stay at home and quarrel. I cannot understand why these things should impair good relations between us." The legislators were by no means entirely persuaded, and there was no immediate sign that they were willing to compromise on the issue.

Brezhnev also made his pitch to Treasury Secretary George P. Shultz and 52 U.S. bankers and businessmen -potential sources for Russia of credit and advanced technology. In a two-hour monologue, he explained Soviet desires to expand commercial and economic relations with the U.S. (see box). He offered for now no specific deals; it was scene-setting soft-sell for Soviet emissaries who will come after him.

Much of the week was ritual, relaxation and quiet conferences between Brezhnev, Nixon and their men. The sessions ranged from the White House to Camp David to San Clemente.

On arrival at Camp David, Brezhnev spotted a bicycle parked at the door of his cottage, slung a leg over it and told Assistant Protocol Chief William Codus with a grin: "Now you can report that I arrived by bicycle." He found the retreat meticulously prepared for his visit. There was a blue windbreaker with a presidential seal, and next to his bed in the rustic cottage named Dogwood was a Russian-language guidebook to the presidential hideaway. During his stay, the Soviet leader preferred hiking along the wooded paths to using the extensive recreational facilities. In the luxurious Blair House, diagonally across Pennsylvania Avenue from the White House, his bedroom was supplied with bowls of cherries, a silver carafe of tea and an assortment of U.S. cigarettes. The larder was amply stocked with Russian vodka and wild honey to sweeten the yogurt he likes as a midnight snack. The bathroom, with its gold faucets, contained an elegant array of men's toiletries--shaving cream, aftershave lotion and hair spray. In California, the Nixons introduced Brezhnev to some 200 guests--many of them Hollywood celebrities--at a poolside, fiesta-style party at San Clemente.

Gold Teeth. Characteristically, Brezhnev repeatedly disrupted Nixon's careful schedules. He passed up lunch with his staff to keep the first day's talks going for four hours--twice the allotted time. It was an obvious attempt to throw Nixon off balance and a ploy used by Brezhnev when he met with West German Chancellor Willy Brandt in May. That night, the lobster supreme and fillet of beef had to be kept on the warmer at the White House for an hour while Brezhnev socialized with the 120 guests, his gold teeth flashing and his heavy boxer's face creased into genial folds. He fingered the two gold stars dangling from his left breast pocket, proudly identifying them as the Hero of the Soviet Union and the Hero of Socialist Labor awards. "Pure gold," he said. "There is a certificate, too, that proves I am a hero." After dinner, he looked as if he wanted to tarry with the guests again, prompting Secretary of State William Rogers to remark: "I don't think he wants to go." But Nixon firmly grasped the Soviet party leader's arm and steered him out the door.

In the State Department's ornate Benjamin Franklin Room, Brezhnev turned what was supposed to be a formal occasion for signing agreements Tuesday morning into a jovial get-acquainted party. For 17 minutes, he circulated like a favorite uncle at a wedding reception, with a word, a grin or a handshake for everyone within reach--Senators, Congressmen and Administration officials.

The night before his departure, Brezhnev spoke on television, as Nixon had done in Moscow. "The Soviet Union and the U.S. are self-sufficient, but to remove cooperation is to turn down substantial benefits," he told Americans. "Mankind has outgrown the cold-war armor which it was once forced to wear. It wants to breathe freely and peacefully." The U.S. and Russia are only at the "beginning of a long road" that will require "constant care, tireless efforts and patience."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.