Monday, Sep. 09, 1991

A Chastened Character In Search of a Role

By John Kohan/Moscow

One thing can be said for Mikhail Gorbachev: he certainly has a strong survival instinct. After committing enough errors of judgment to have wrecked the careers of a dozen or so Western politicians, he was back on the job at the Kremlin last week, chastened, humiliated, but as determined as ever to hold on to his powers as President of the Soviet Union. Never mind that the Communist Party was no more, the central government dissolved, the security services and armed forces undergoing a painful purge and the Soviet parliament in total disarray. The failed putsch may have left a gaping hole at the very center of power, but Gorbachev was toiling to fill it by the sheer force of his presence.

Flushed with their victory on the barricades of Moscow, the resurgent Russians, led by Boris Yeltsin, seemed to have had other plans in mind for the President once they restored him to power. Yeltsin has been thinking of a considerably weakened role for his former rival in a future bare-bones Union: Gorbachev glad-handing visiting heads of state, Gorbachev keeping the country's electric grid in working order or Gorbachev making certain the trains run on time. As one brazen Russian slogan put it, "Misha, don't forget under whose flag you were rescued."

But the Soviet President signaled last week that he had not returned from house arrest in the Crimea to become a hostage of the Russians. He cautioned the parliament against jumping to the conclusion that "the Russian leadership has shoved aside the President of the country." He felt sufficiently confident to chastise Yeltsin for meddling in the affairs of the larger Union. Gorbachev obviously believes he still has an independent role to play in shaping the evolution of a new Soviet Union. But does anyone else?

In the immediate aftermath of the coup, bookmakers would have set odds against a Gorbachev comeback at 100 to 1. But his chances seem to be improving with each passing day. His fervent conversion to the cause of radical reform has no doubt helped boost his standing, but he has probably benefited even more from the erratic behavior of Yeltsin. The Russian president cuts a commanding figure on flag-draped balconies, issuing stirring calls for the defense of freedom, but he seems uncomfortable maneuvering in the corridors of power, where Gorbachev is most at home.

In contrast to the mercurial Yeltsin, Gorbachev is safe and sound. Consider, for example, Yeltsin's statement on Russian territorial claims against other republics. It seemed to explode on the political scene like a firecracker tossed by some impish prankster. Then, in characteristic style, the Russian leader slunk out of Moscow, leaving no official word of his whereabouts, though he was presumed to be on his way to one of the Baltic republics. Such acts are the stuff of grand legends, not sound policies. And they are most definitely not characteristic of the cautious Gorbachev style of leadership.

Detractors of the Soviet President have accused him in the past of wanting to be a dictator. He did have such power, but he was always reluctant -- sometimes too reluctant -- to use it. When the conspirators asked Gorbachev to join the plot, he refused and honored his vow as the first President of the Soviet Union to "defend the constitution." He speaks often now about the importance of zakonnost -- legality -- in the aftermath of the coup. Such admonitions are of crucial importance if a law-governed state is to emerge on the territory of the shattered Union -- and Gorbachev still has the authority to utter them.

The passive failure of the Soviet Union's new parliamentary democracy during the coup has bolstered the case for rule by presidential decree. Unlike Gorbachev, Yeltsin has shown no hesitation in forcing the pace of democratic change by ukase. But his order to muzzle the Communist Party press was an early warning signal of how fundamental rights might be endangered in the process. Gorbachev remains the only leader of sufficient stature to put a check on the excesses of the new Russian revolution -- and of Yeltsin -- if only because of the constitutional office he holds.

Yeltsin may talk about doing away with the central authorities, but he still wants some kind of union. Yet the failed coup has inspired a mass exodus of republics, fearful of the restoration of a new Russian empire under Czar Boris. Although Gorbachev's statement that "the Soviet President and the Russian parliament need each other" drew jeers from Russian Deputies, that claim may yet be vindicated. Gorbachev can certainly play a crucial role now as an independent mediator, power broker and guarantor of a new Union.

Gorbachev proved his skills as a go-between when he negotiated the last, never signed union treaty. Whether the nation that emerges out of the rubble now takes the form of a federation, confederation or commonwealth, there will still be a need for some kind of governmental body to judge the conflicting claims of the member states. The President of the Soviet Union is the logical candidate to assume such an executive role, and that means Gorbachev.

The coup has taken some of the luster off the Kremlin's Nobel Peace laureate in the eyes of the outside world, but Gorbachev still remains the one Soviet politician with whom international leaders feel comfortable doing business. In diplomacy the Yeltsin factor looms large. His heroic stand against the conspirators won him applause abroad, but foreign diplomats are less enthusiastic about what they have seen of the Russian president since the putsch was crushed. Gorbachev's prestige abroad will prove to be important capital in the bank, especially now that his homeland is entering a new era of absorption with domestic problems.

There is also the question of who will speak for this new conglomerate of states, who will guarantee treaties signed with the old Soviet Union, who will provide continuity with the foreign policy of the past and help interpret the themes and variations of each republic pursuing its own national interests. The international community may be lining up to grant recognition to the three Baltic republics; how it will deal with seven more candidates clamoring for full admission into the club is another matter. For the interim, foreign visitors will still want to stop first at the Kremlin to catch the familiar voice of Gorbachev above the babble.

A Gorbachev-Yeltsin alliance has long been an axiom of reform politics in the Soviet Union. The combination may not make for the most stable relationship, but the two complement each other neatly in experience and temperament. Gorbachev is the cautious infighter who thinks out every move in advance; Yeltsin is the street brawler who goes with his heart and throws caution to the winds. Gorbachev is the sophisticated world traveler who shows presence of mind in the White House or the Vatican; Yeltsin is the blunt- spoken man of the people, comfortable mixing with workers on a shop floor. The fact that the power balance has shifted in Yeltsin's favor and made Gorbachev the junior partner does not change the basic formula.

That is not to say that Gorbachev might not be out on the street in the coming months. He might also find himself relegated to the role of caretaker President, able like the prophet Moses to lead his people to the promised land but not destined to enter himself. It is simply too early to tell. When leaders of the newly registered Democratic Party of Russian Communists, a radical reform group founded by Yeltsin's vice president, Alexander Rutskoi, were asked last week if they thought Gorbachev had any chance of winning a popular election for President of the Soviet Union, they were noticeably hesitant about giving a direct answer. "Who can say?" one speaker finally ventured. "Look at how much Gorbachev's image has changed over the past few days. Who knows what it will be like in even a month's time?" If events of the past fortnight have taught any lesson, it is this: no one should rush to write off Mikhail Gorbachev.