Soviet Union Nothing Less Than a Coup

By JOHN KOHAN MOSCOW

Question: What is the difference between the Soviet Union and the U.S.?

Answer: In the U.S., Gorbachev would probably be elected President.

Popularly elected he was not, but Mikhail Gorbachev nevertheless swore himself in last week as the first real President the U.S.S.R. has ever had. As the parliamentarians at the third session of the Congress of People's Deputies rose to their feet, Gorbachev walked from his seat to a small table by a red hammer-and-sickle flag. Placing his right hand on a copy of the Soviet constitution, he intoned, "I solemnly swear to serve faithfully the peoples of our country, to strictly abide by the constitution of the U.S.S.R., to guarantee the rights and freedoms of our citizens and conscientiously fulfill the high duties entrusted to me as President of the Soviet Union."

For seven decades Soviets have heard countless promises from their Communist leaders, but never an official oath to honor the constitution. The document in question was an outdated product of the Brezhnev era. Gorbachev's new office, and the expanded powers that go along with it, were won by parliamentary, not popular, vote. But there was no denying the fact that almost five years to the day after he assumed the position of General Secretary of the Communist Party, Gorbachev had engineered nothing less than a coup d'etat, effectively ending his party's monopoly on power. Said he: "We all can feel the first real results of political change. A system of genuine people power is being created and the groundwork laid for building a country governed by law."

Some Soviets complained that Gorbachev's accession to executive power hardly resembled true democracy. Others grumbled that his political changes have brought precious little improvement to a distressed economy. Gorbachev would probably win election if tested at the polls -- for want of a real alternative. Yet despite his sweeping new powers, he faces a populace disenchanted with his failure to fulfill the promises he has made and increasingly skeptical that he is moving radically enough to do so.

During the four-day congress the Soviet leader heard some of the bluntest public criticism to date of his policies. Economic reformer Nikolai Shmelev complained that "as far as the economy is concerned, we have built a madhouse and continue to live according to the laws of a madhouse." Conservative Deputies warned that society was "slipping into a swamp even more boggy than in the stagnation period." At one point Deputy Teimuraz Avaliani, from a Siberian coal-mining region, even urged the parliamentarians "not to vote for Gorbachev under any circumstances."

They did, but his victory was a far cry from the 99.9% landslides once manufactured for Soviet leaders. Now allowed to vote their own minds, 495 Deputies opposed Gorbachev, 54 abstained, another 122 walked off with their ballots to protest the undemocratic spectacle and as many as 245 failed to participate at all. Against no competition, he won with a victory majority of only 59%.

The President will need all the support -- or courage -- he can muster to handle the challenges of his office. Conspicuous by their absence during the voting were most of the Lithuanian Deputies. Four days before, their state parliament had picked a President of its own, Vytautas Landsbergis, the soft- spoken head of the Sajudis popular-front movement. In one of his first official acts, Landsbergis proclaimed Lithuania an independent state. The bold show of defiance drew a rebuke from the congress, which overwhelmingly affirmed that Soviet laws "continue to apply on Lithuanian territory." Gorbachev labeled the Lithuanian decision "illegal and invalid," winning applause from the assembly when he ruled out negotiations on the grounds that "you carry out negotiations with a foreign country." On Friday he gave the republic three days to renounce its independence declaration.

Lithuania's rush to secede was prompted in part by fears that Gorbachev might use his new powers to declare a state of emergency in the republic as a way to regain control. But Gorbachev appears to be committed to finding a political solution to the crisis. "There would not be negotiations but a repectful dialogue," he said. Even Politburo conservative Yegor Ligachev firmly ruled out military intervention, noting that "tanks cannot help in this business."

Moscow may be hoping that an economic cold shower will be enough to douse some of Lithuania's ardor. The Baltic state may produce more than enough food to feed its population of 3.7 million, but it depends almost entirely on the Soviet Union for oil, natural gas and raw materials, running up a yearly trade deficit with the union of $2.3 billion. Engineers at the Vilnius Furniture Factory, which buys 30% of its timber from other republics, say Moscow has already cut back on supplies and intends to increase timber prices one-third. Other Soviet enterprises may also decide not to supply Lithuania with goods unless they are paid in hard currency. Such pressures could bring on factory closures, unemployment and inflation.

Despite some morning-after trepidation, the Lithuanians are determined to establish customs and visa procedures, print their own currency and even lease planes from state-owned Aeroflot to start a Lithuanian airline. If Gorbachev continues to demand an indemnity of some $34 billion for Soviet investment during the past five decades, the republic is prepared to submit a bill of its own for compensation for the 300,000 citizens that the Lithuanians claim were killed, imprisoned or exiled as the Soviets took control of their homeland and for economic mismanagement by the Kremlin. An equally contentious issue is what to do about the 50,000 Lithuanian soldiers currently in the Soviet armed forces, now that the Supreme Council has passed a law abolishing compulsory military service.

Secessionist fever has been simmering as well in neighboring Estonia, which last week followed its sister republic in requesting talks with Moscow. The Caucasian republic of Georgia is also flirting with defection, after parliamentarians in Tbilisi denounced their incorporation into the union. Local nationalists are calling for a boycott of parliamentary elections on March 25.

To stem the separatist tide, Gorbachev announced plans to press for a new treaty of the union, confirming the sovereignty of the republics. But he also promised to "radicalize" perestroika, speed up the timetable of the government economic-reform program, cut the state budget deficit, cope with the crisis in agriculture and food supplies, solve the growing refugee problem and guarantee the "stability of public order and the security of citizens" -- a tall order for any leader, much less one as beset as Gorbachev.

Where does this leave the party's ruling Politburo? Lost in the dust, it would seem. Last week the congress formally amended Article 6 of the constitution to eliminate any reference to the party's "leading role." Now Communists must share political influence with "other political parties, trade unions, youth organizations and mass movements." But Gorbachev continued to hold on to his own leading role in the party. That may only be a question of months, at least until the party holds its congress in early summer. "As President," he told the parliamentarians, "I want to wish the Communist Party -- the country's most influential political force -- success in implementing its platform for its 28th Party Congress." Those words had the sound of a fond farewell.

With reporting by Anne Blackman/Moscow