H-Diplo Roundtable, Vol. XX
Total Page:16
File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb
2018 H-Diplo Roundtable Editors: Thomas Maddux and Diane Labrosse @HDiplo Roundtable and Web Production Editor: George Fujii Introduction by Vladislav Zubok Roundtable Review Volume XX, No. 1 (2018) 4 September 2018 William Taubman. Gorbachev. His Life and Times. New York and London: W.W. Norton, 2017. ISBN: 978-0-393-64701-3 (hardcover, $39.95); 978-0-393-35620-5 (paperback, $24.95). URL: http://www.tiny.cc/Roundtable-XX-1 Contents Introduction by Vladislav M. Zubok, London School of Economics and Political Science ..... 2 Review by Alex Pravda, University of Oxford ......................................................................................... 6 Review by Sergey Radchenko, Cardiff University ................................................................................. 9 Review by Ronald Grigor Suny, University of Michigan ...................................................................12 Review by James Graham Wilson, Office of the Historian, U.S. Department of State ............17 Author’s Response by William Taubman, Amherst College, Emeritus ........................................20 © 2018 The Authors. Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 United States License. H-Diplo Roundtable Review, Vol. XX, No. 1 (2018) Introduction by Vladislav M. Zubok, London School of Economics and Political Science illiam Taubman’s book on Mikhail Gorbachev is not just another biography. It is the culmination of this scholar’s life-long efforts to understand Soviet history. All of the reviewers concur in their W superlative assessments of the book. Alex Pravda and James Wilson call it the best, most detailed and comprehensive book about Gorbachev ever written. Ronald Suny believes it is “an even better book” than Taubman’s Pulitzer prize-winning biography of Nikita Khrushchev.1 And Sergei Radchenko describes “a beautiful narrative that draws the reader in, informs, fascinates, excites, surprises on occasion…” Naturally, the unity breaks down when the reviewers deal with Gorbachev’s agency and meaning for history. The enormity of change, domestic and international, that Gorbachev’s policies produced guarantee that debates about alternatives and options, missed opportunities and false hopes will continue in the future, depending on—or perhaps independently of—new sources and revelations. Taubman’s book is written for a broader audience and is above all about the life of a man, his wife, and his life-path. Yet it is not one of many bios of politicos from cradle to retirement. Dealing with a major living historical figure whom one admires (Taubman never conceals his admiration for Gorbachev) required tact, empathy, open-mindedness, and a certain sense of humility, in addition to methodological mastery. The book also tackles a question that preceded and survived Soviet history: zigzags of Russian society between hope and tragedy, liberalisation and despotic authoritarianism. The historian’s personal engagement with this subject has always been deeper than his interest in Soviet geopolitical exploits. Taubman’s ancestors had escaped tragedy by emigrating from the imperial Pale of Settlement before the Russian revolution. In the mid-1960s, a young student of history from Harvard, Taubman spent a year at the Moscow University at the time of hopeful reformist ferment and published his first book about it. In August 1968 Soviet forces invaded Czechoslovakia and crushed ‘the Prague Spring’; a conservative reaction set on that lasted for fifteen years. After a stint in the Cold War history in the 1970s, Taubman returned to his main interest. His familiarity with the Moscow liberal-minded intelligentsia contributed to his liberal bias. His magisterial biography of Khrushchev was a tribute to the ‘people of the 1960s,’ many of whom had become his friends. As Taubman worked on Khrushchev’s book, Gorbachev raised the hope of peaceful change to previously unimaginable heights, only to trigger a tragedy, this time not one of despotism and terror, but of socio-economic collapse, ethnic violence, and criminal lawlessness. Taubman’s Gorbachev sums up the scholar’s life-long intellectual quest. The reviews in this roundtable present a good mix of perspectives and views. Alex Pravda inquires as to what made Gorbachev “a transformational leader,” and finds in Taubman’s book a paradoxical, if not entirely new, answer: disdain for preconceived, detailed plans and actionable policies; overconfidence and a highly personalised way of making crucial decisions; and moral values, including the rejection of force. This is a bit a faint praise: what kind of a transformational leadership owes more to flaws and misjudgements than to perspicacity and political will? Ronald Suny spots other clues in the chapters about Gorbachev’s earlier life. Gorbachev had grown up in a loving, and divided family; one of his grandfathers was against collectivisation, another was for it. This had increased his penchant for consensus politics, reluctance to side with ‘radicals’ against ‘conservatives’, and desire to end the perennial ‘civil war’ that had riven Russian society. Suny also highlights how Gorbachev’s “improbable career formed by a socialist affirmative action program” made him adhere to the socialist project to the end, while rejecting the Stalinist system. Both reviewers admire 1 William Taubman, Khrushchev, The Man and His Era (New York: W.W. Norton, 2003). H-Diplo Roundtable Review, Vol. XX, No. 1 (2018) Taubman’s Gorbachev, but from different perspectives. For Pravda, Gorbachev deserves admiration for letting communism in Eastern Europe and in the Soviet Union go to its grave without violence. For Suny, he is “a decent, moral man,” who rightfully sought to build a social democracy in Russia, but stumbled because of “personal flaws, most importantly over-confidence, even arrogance.” Suny also finds that Gorbachev’s policy of perestroika was betrayed “by many of his comrades, by the Soviet intelligentsia, and by the Great Power allies.” While Pravda and Suny inquire, two other reviewers engage the book on a more polemical level. James Graham Wilson takes issue with the book’s claim that the George H. W. Bush Administration could have made a difference in the drama of perestroika, had it provided an early active support to Gorbachev. He also refuses to give weight to the contemporary debate about the Western ‘broken pledge’ to Gorbachev not to extend NATO eastward. Taubman’s reply at the end of this roundtable demonstrates that he supports Gorbachev’s foreign policy vision with more conviction than his domestic reforms. At the same time, the polemics leave a big question in the air: could the U.S.-led West have indeed granted Gorbachev—and the Soviet Union—more time and chances for evolutionary reformation, instead of letting ‘the Soviet empire’ dissolve. One can fancy how many scholars, not to mention those from the Baltics and Ukraine, would vehemently dispute this point. Taubman seems to find this question legitimate, and I side with him on this point. Radchenko’s review takes a revisionist stance on Taubman’s main conclusion: Gorbachev is a tragic hero who deserves to be admired. His scepticism reflects a prevalent ex-Soviet opinion about Gorbachev but also invites reconsideration of the familiar debate about ‘democracy vs. an iron hand.’ Taubman and three reviewers have no doubt that Gorbachev’s goal of building democracy (or social democracy) in the late Soviet Union was both moral and practical. The problem, in Taubman’s conclusion, was with the “raw material”: it would take Russian society much more time to arrive to this destination than Gorbachev had imagined. For Radchenko, however, it is hard to accept Taubman’s conclusion without hard questioning. Considering the long and tragic history of revolution, reform, and despotism in Russia and the Soviet Union, how could any realist leader have expected a quick democratic transition? Perhaps a future debate about a flawed leader vs, a flawed society should be less constrained by liberal-democratic teleology. In a choice between the ‘Chinese road’ of Deng Xiaoping and ‘the Czech reforms’ of 1968, Gorbachev’s heart clearly was with the latter. The main factor in his decision seems to have been his personality, his unwillingness to be a strong authoritarian and to use force (Taubman, 217-218). In Gorbachev’s adviser Anatoly Chernyaev’s diary and Politburo minutes, Gorbachev constantly fretted about madness of Moscow intelligentsia, who flooded the streets with demands of immediate ‘freedom’ and direct forms of democracy. Yet at a deeper cultural level Gorbachev seemed to be sympathetic to this madness. His other personal predilections caused him to misjudge the main challenges to perestroika. He saw the old authoritarian state and party structures as his main opponent and wanted to weaken and balance against it. At the same time, he seemed not to realise that his improvised liberalisation, economic and political, generated new monsters that destroyed Soviet economy and governability. Taubman takes Gorbachev’s side in his epic battle against Boris Yeltsin, the main destroyer of the Soviet Union. So did all the reviewers. I also agree: Yeltsin’s neoliberal turn, applauded by many in the United States, destroyed the fragile democracy in Russia and paved the way for its return to authoritarianism. But would a post-coup Gorbachev have been preferable than his radical, power-grabbing successor? Last chapters of Taubman’s book about Gorbachev’s ‘anti-career’ after his forced resignation in December