TIME: Almanac 1990/1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso/time/032089/03208900.034

Text File | 1990-09-17 | 11KB | 194 lines

WORLD, Pag 32

EAST-WEST

Let's Count Down

The superpowers want to shrink conventional arms, but don't

agree how

By Jill Smolowe


    For omen seekers, the outward signs were propitious. Secretary
of State James Baker bounded down the stairs, hurried to Soviet
Foreign Minister Eduard Shevardnadze's side and offered a hearty
handshake. Smiling and pumping arms, they then began their maiden
meeting in the glittering, baroque Festsaal in the sprawling
Hofburg, that imperial crescent of stone buildings in the heart of
Vienna. The locale was rich with inspiration: in 1815 the Congress
of Vienna convened at the nearby chancellery to redraw the
political face of Europe. Last week's gathering of 35 foreign
ministers ushered in a modern-day reprise to redraft the
Continent's military map. The talks, called CFE -- Negotiations on
Conventional Armed Forces in Europe -- are destined to be the
arms-control battlefield of the 1990s.

    Certain to become every bit as familiar and contentious as the
SALT talks on limiting nuclear arsenals that dominated the 1970s,
the far more complex CFE talks aim to eliminate the threat of
conventional war in Europe. At issue are not only the more than 5
million armed troops deployed throughout the Continent but also,
by NATO's count, some 70,000 tanks, 140,000 armored troop carriers,
68,000 artillery pieces and 12,000 combat aircraft. The overriding
goals of the talks will be to reduce the possibility of surprise
attacks and large-scale offensive operations and to diminish the
oppressive levels of firepower and military manpower. Optimally,
both NATO and the Warsaw Pact will be restructured along defensive
lines, with no country or alliance having the power to attack
others. Acknowledges a Soviet expert on conventional arms: "This
is the most complicated diplomatic task since the end of World War
II."

    While the opening atmospherics were promising, the devil, as
arms controllers say, is in the details. The Soviets scored early
with ambitious unilateral initiatives that went a long way toward
meeting the basic Western criterion of trimming the Warsaw Pact's
alarming and unmatched capacity to overrun Europe. Beyond that, the
East bloc is prepared for a fundamental restructuring of the
Continent's military balance that could sharply diminish the
dangerous confrontation across Europe's political fault line.

    By way of response, the U.S.-led NATO proposal sounded modest
and a bit miserly. British Foreign Secretary Sir Geoffrey Howe
spelled out the West's starting position, warning that NATO was not
interested in a "competitive striptease." The plan, which he said
went "far beyond bean counting," in essence called for deep cuts
in the Eastern forces, with only minor reductions of up to 10% in
NATO dispositions. Baker gave a more philosophical speech, but it
was thin on specifics and failed to counter Shevardnadze's
longer-range proposals.

    Despite the daunting negotiations ahead, which optimists say
will last at least two years, both sides showed a rare eagerness
to make these talks succeed. If a pragmatic tone distinguished
their formal speeches, a private meeting between Baker and
Shevardnadze at the official residence of U.S. Ambassador Henry
Grunwald plainly left the two statesmen in high spirits. "My
impression is that both sides are willing to cooperate,"
Shevardnadze said enthusiastically. A relieved Baker said, "The
proposal (the Soviets) advanced was really remarkably close to the
NATO proposal . . . (we're) off to a pretty good start."

    The atmosphere of promise contrasts sharply with the record of
CFE's moribund predecessor, the Mutual and Balanced Force
Reductions negotiations, known inelegantly as MBFR. For 15 years,
NATO and Warsaw Pact negotiators never moved beyond a stalemate
over head counts, with both sides arguing fruitlessly about how
many troops and weapons the other had deployed. Soviet leader
Mikhail Gorbachev broke that logjam in April 1987 by admitting that
the East bloc has a clear edge in conventional forces, then
accepting the logic that the Warsaw Pact will have to absorb deeper
cuts. Says Stephen Ledogar, head of the U.S. delegation to the CFE
talks: "We're not hearing the old thinking, `What's mine is mine,
and what's yours is negotiable.' "

    As Shevardnadze detailed Moscow's opening position last week,
several encouraging points of convergence emerged. By calling for
weapons reductions to 10% to 15% below present NATO levels, he
signaled Moscow's willingness to make asymmetrical cuts. His
proposal for an eventual conversion of remaining forces to a
"strictly defensive character" echoed NATO's call for "the
restructuring of armed forces to enhance defensive capabilities."
Perhaps most important, the two sides agreed that verification of
any conventional-arms pact must be rigorous. Shevardnadze gave the
nod to on-site inspections "without right of refusal," adding that
all verification measures would be accepted, provided there is
reciprocity. "We would like to hope," he said, "that our way of
thinking and acting is no longer identified in the West with ill
will or evil intentions."

    Still, the potential for irreconcilable differences looms. In
putting forward his proposal, Shevardnadze pushed beyond the talks'
mandate on several key points. Concerned about NATO's superior air
power, Moscow listed tactical aircraft and combat helicopters among
the "most destabilizing categories of armaments" that need to be
cut back. The West has consistently maintained that aircraft should
not be included in the negotiations, as they cannot seize and hold
territory. Similarly, Shevardnadze indicated that while naval
forces are not officially part of the talks, they must eventually
be considered. Washington currently considers the matter
non-negotiable.

    Then there was Shevardnadze's vague mention of "zones" or
"strips" in which little or no military activity would be allowed.
Playing directly to West Germany, which shares the longest frontier
with the East, Shevardnadze suggested a rollback of short-range
nuclear forces and a lower conventional presence in the zone
bordering both Germanys. The idea has appeal in Bonn, where some
officials have been pressing for a two-track approach in which
reductions of short-range nuclear forces would parallel those
achieved in the CFE talks. They suggest that if the Warsaw Pact
agrees to eliminate its conventional superiority, the West might
agree to eliminate some or even all battlefield nuclear weapons.
NATO is divided, however, over just how tightly the two weapons
categories should be knit.

    The alliance is also deeply rent over the question of
modernizing its short-range nuclear forces. Debate rages within
NATO over the replacement of 88 aging Lance missile launchers. West
Germany argues that any decision should be postponed until after
1990, thus wielding the threat of modernization as a means to
increase pressure on the Soviets to make concessions on
conventional arms. The U.S., Britain and France counter that the
modernization should go forward, to position NATO better now to
negotiate reductions with the Soviets later. Determined to keep
West Germany firmly in the NATO camp, Baker reached out to Bonn
last week with an unexpected gesture. He suggested that the Bush
Administration might speed up the withdrawal of chemical weapons
from West Germany, currently targeted for 1992.

    But disagreements over issues like modernization handicapped
NATO as the CFE negotiations got under way. The equivocations of
West Germany's Ostpolitik troubled the U.S. and Britain, and recent
conflicts between Greece and Turkey nearly scuttled the talks
altogether. Negotiators are also wary about the participation of
the French, whose Gaullist aloofness toward NATO led them to snub
the MBFR talks; so far, the French have shown a prickly
independence in preparatory discussions for CFE. France does not
want to appear to be reintegrating its forces into the NATO
structure, so each of the 16 NATO and seven Warsaw Pact countries
theoretically stands independently in the CFE talks, worrying the
American delegation, which prefers to control the course of
negotiations.

    Western diplomats also anticipate difficulties within NATO on
the pace of the talks. Some, seeing in Gorbachev an eager partner,
will seek to speed up the bargaining. Others will try to slow the
process of disarmament for fear of bringing about a greater erosion
of NATO's will to defend itself or a complete withdrawal of the
American troops stationed on European soil. Warns Martin McCusker,
director of the military committee of the North Atlantic Assembly,
NATO's parliamentary wing: "The talks are bound to bring out many
of the intra-alliance tensions we've tried to keep buried and which
Soviet obstinacy has helped stifle."

    The Soviets have looked decidedly less threatening since
Gorbachev indicated that he would consider asymmetrical cuts in
Europe's defenses. He went a well-received step further in his
address before the U.N. General Assembly last December by
announcing the unilateral withdrawal of 500,000 Soviet troops and
10,000 tanks, to be made over the next two years. In recent months
the Soviets have further swayed public opinion in Western Europe
by adopting a 10% cut in defense spending and publishing detailed
figures of troop and arms levels. Moscow has also acceded to
Western demands that the talks cover all of Europe -- not just
Central Europe, as in the MBFR negotiations -- thus taking into
account some Soviet troops stationed on home soil. Gorbachev
expansively describes the new zone as running "from the Atlantic
to the Urals."

    At the heart of Moscow's newfound flexibility is Gorbachev's
need to transfer scarce resources from the military to the civilian
economy if he is to improve living conditions at home. By paring
the military, Gorbachev aims to free not only investment resources
but human resources as well. With public pressure building to
reduce or even abandon the Soviet Union's unpopular conscription,
Gorbachev said last October that the length of military service may
be shortened. Presumably, for each good soldier lost, Moscow hopes
to gain a good worker.

    As the two sides go through a diplomatic grope in search of
common ground, neither expects the CFE talks to be a kaffeeklatsch.
(The talks were originally given the acronym CAFE, but that was
discarded as too frivolous.) It is a promising sign that
negotiators chose last week to accentuate the positive. "They
called for several things which sound pretty reasonable," said
Ledogar of his East bloc counterparts. Concurred Oleg Grinievsky,
chief of the Soviet delegation: "The very first hours witnessed an
exchange of positions, rather than recriminations." Baker and
Shevardnadze boosted optimism by setting a May date in Moscow to
discuss resumption of Strategic Arms Reduction Talks and explore
the timing of a superpower summit. But, cautions Baker, "we've got
some hard bargaining ahead of us."