Mikhail Gorbachev, the
son of an agricultural mechanic on a collective farm, was born in
Privolnoye in the Soviet Union on 2nd March,
1931.
Gorbachev's grandfather,
Pantelei Yefimovich Gopkalo, was a staunch member of the Communist
Party (CPSU) and was chairman of the village kolkhoz. In 1937
he was arrested by the NKVD Secret Police
and charged with being a leader of an underground organization supporting
Leon Trotsky. After enduring nearly two
years of torture and imprisonment, his grandfather was released in
December 1938.
In his memoirs Gorbachev
argues this incident had a dramatic impact on his political development.
His grandfather remained a committed communist and introduced his
grandson to the works of Karl Marx, Frederick
Engels and Lenin (although not Leon
Trotsky).
During the Second
World War Gorbachev's village was occupied by the German
Army. He later
wrote: "I was fourteen when the war ended. Our generation is
the generation of wartime children. It has burned us, leaving its
mark both on our characters and in our view of the world."
Gorbachev worked as a combine
harvest operator before studying law at Moscow University. While a
student Gorbachev joined Communist Party (CPSU)
and married Raisa Titorenko.
After leaving university
Gorbachev became a full-time official with Komsomol (Communist Youth
Organization). In 1955 Gorbachev he was appointed first secretary
of the Komsomol Territorial Committee. Gorbachev made rapid progress
and by 1960 he was the top Komsomol official in Stavropol. The following
year he was a delegate from Stavropol to the 22nd Communist Party
Congress in Moscow.
Gorbachev studied for a
second degree at the Stavropol Agricultural Institute (1964-67) and
in 1970 was appointed First Secretary for Stavropol Territory. His
work in this post impressed Yuri Andropov,
who was at that time the head of the Committee
for State Security (KGB). Andropov now used his considerable influence
to promote Gorbachev's career.
In 1971 Gorbachev became
a member of Communist Party Central Committee.
He later moved to Moscow where he became the Secretary of Agriculture.
In 1980 Gorbachev became the youngest member of the Politburo
and within four years had become deputy to Konstantin
Chernenko.
On the death of Chernenko
in 1985 Gorbachev was elected by the Central Committee as General
Secretary of the Communist Party. As party
leader he immediately began forcing more conservative members of the
Central Committee to resign. He replaced them with younger men who
shared his vision of reform.
In 1985 Gorbachev introduced
a major campaign against corruption and alcoholism. He also spoke
about the need for Perestroika
(Restructuring) and this heralded a series of liberalizing economic,
political and cultural reforms which had the aim of making the Soviet
economy more efficient.
Gorbachev introduced policies
with the intention of establishing a market economy by encouraging
the private ownership of Soviet industry and agriculture. However,
the Soviet authoritarian structures ensured these reforms were ineffective
and there were shortages of goods available in shops.
Gorbachev also announced
changes to Soviet foreign policy. In 1987 he met with Ronald
Reagan and signed
the Immediate Nuclear Forces (INF) abolition treaty. He also made
it clear he would no longer interfere in the domestic policies of
other countries in Eastern Europe and in 1989 announced the withdrawal
of Soviet forces from Afghanistan. The following year he was awarded
the Nobel
Peace Prize.
Aware that Gorbachev
would not send in
Soviet tanks there were demonstrations against communist governments
throughout Eastern Europe. Over the next few months the communists
were ousted from power in Poland, Hungary,
Bulgaria,
Romania, and East
Germany.
Gorbachev's attempts to
make the Soviet Union a more democratic country made him unpopular
with conservatives still in positions of power. In August 1991 he
survived a coup staged by hard-liners in the Communist
Party. Gorbachev responded by dissolving the Central Committee.
However, with the Soviet Union disintegrating into separate states,
Gorbachev resigned from office on 25th December, 1995.
(1)
Mikhail Gorbachev, Memoirs (1995)
As a child, I still found
vestiges of the way of life that was typical for the Russian village
before the Revolution and collectivization. Adobe huts with an earthen
floor, and no beds at all: people slept either on planks fixed above
the stove or on the pech (the Russian stove), with sheepskin coats
or rags for a cover. In winter, the calf would be brought into the
hut from the freezing cold. In spring, hens and often geese would
be brought inside, there to expedite hatching. From a present-day
point of view people lived in wretched poverty. The worst part was
the back-breaking labour. When our contemporary advocates of peasants'
happiness refer to the 'golden age' of the Russian countryside I honestly
do not understand what they mean. Either these people do not know
anything at all or they are deliberately misguiding others - or else
their memory has totally failed them.
On a bookshelf knocked
together in my grandfather Pantelei Yefimovich's house, I discovered
a series of slim booklets: Marx, Engels and Lenin. There were also
Stalin's Principles of Leninism and Kalinin's essays and speeches,
while the other corner of the room was adorned by an icon with an
icon-lamp: Grandmother was deeply religious. Under the icon, on a
little home-made table, stood portraits of Lenin and Stalin. This
'peaceful co-existence' did not bother Grandfather in the least. He
was not a believer himself, but he was endowed with admirable tolerance.
(2)
Indictment against Pantelei
Yefimovich Gopkalo (grandfather
of Mikhail
Gorbachev)
in 1938.
(a) He impeded harvesting
operations and thus created conditions for the loss of
grain. Pursuing the destruction of the kolkhoz livestock he artificially
reduced the fodder base by ploughing up meadows which resulted in
kolkhoz cattle starving;
(b) He obstructed the
progress of the Stakhanovite movement in the kolkhoz by repressing
Stakhanovites. On the basis of the facts stated heretofore he is charged
with anti-Soviet activities: being an enemy of the CPSU (B) and of
the Soviet system and having established ties with the members of
an abolished anti-Soviet right-wing Trotskyist organization, he carried
out their instructions of subversive acts at the 'Red October' kolkhoz
which were aimed at undermining the economic well-being of the kolkhoz.
(3)
NKVD
Secret Police report on Mikhail Gorbachev's
grandfather's interrogation in 1938.
"You have been arrested
on the charge of being a member of a counter-revolutionary right-wing
Trotskyist organization. Do you plead guilty?"
"I do not plead guilty.
I have never been a member of a counterrevolutionary organization."
"You're not telling
the truth. The prosecution has at its disposal precise information
about your membership of a counterrevolutionary right-wing Trotskyist
organization. Give us truthful evidence in the case."
"I repeat, I have
not been a member of a counterrevolutionary organization."
"You are lying. A
number of people charged in this case testified against you, corroborating
your counterrevolutionary activity. The prosecution insists
on obtaining truthful evidence."
"I deny the accusations
categorically. I don't know of any counterrevolutionary organization."
(4)
Mikhail
Gorbachev, Memoirs (1995)
I remember well the winter
evening when Grandfather returned home. His closest relatives sat
around the hand-planed rustic table and Pantelei Yefimovich recounted
all that had been done to him.
Trying to get him to confess,
the investigator blinded him with a glaring lamp, beat him unmercifully,
broke his arms by squeezing them in the door. When these 'standard'
tortures proved futile, they invented a new one: they put a wet sheepskin
coat on him and sat him on a hot stove. Pantelei Yefimovich endured
this too, as well as much else.
Those who were imprisoned
with him later told me that all the inmates of the prison cell tried
to revive him after the interrogation sessions. Pantelei Yefimovich
recounted all this just once - that very evening. Nobody ever heard
him speak about it afterwards.
(5)
Mikhail Gorbachev, Memoirs (1995)
Since Father had left
for the front, I had to take care of a multitude of household chores.
In the spring of 1942 I also worked in the vegetable patch which provided
food for the family. Later my main duty consisted in stocking up on
hay for the cow and on fuel for the house. Our way of life had changed
completely. And we, the wartime children, skipped from childhood directly
into adulthood.
Towards the end of summer
1942 a wave of refugees from Rostov passed through our region. The
people dragged themselves along, some carrying knapsacks or kit-bags,
others pushing prams or handcarts, exchanging their goods for food.
Herds of cows and horses as well as flocks of sheep were driven back
from the advancing Germans.
Grandmother Vasilisa and
grandfather Pantelei packed up their belongings and left for an unknown
destination. The fuel tanks at the rural oil base were drained; all
the fuel poured out into the shallow River Egorlyk. The crops in the
field were set on fire.
On 27 July 1942 our troops
withdrew from Rostov. It was a hurried retreat. Tired, glum soldiers
passed through, their faces marked by sorrow and guilt. The explosions,
the roar of heavy guns and the sound of shooting were approaching
- as if circumventing Privolnoye on both sides. Together with the
neighbours we dug out a trench in the river embankment and for the
first time I saw the volley of the Katyusha guns: fiery arrows crossing
the skies with a frightening whistling sound.
(6)
Mikhail
Gorbachev, Memoirs
(1995)
Khrushchev's secret speech
at the XXth Party Congress caused a political and psychological shock
throughout the country. At the Party krai committee I had the opportunity
to read the Central Committee information bulletin, which was practically
a verbatim report of Khrushchev's words. I fully supported Khrushchev's
courageous step. I did not conceal my views and defended them publicly.
But I noticed that the reaction of the apparatus to the report was
mixed; some people even seemed confused.
I am convinced that history
will never forget Khrushchev's denunciation of Stalin's personality
cult. It is, of course, true that his secret report to the XXth Party
Congress contained scant analysis and was excessively subjective.
To attribute the complex problem of totalitarianism simply to external
factors and the evil character of a dictator was a simple and hard-hitting
tactic - but it did not reveal the profound roots of this tragedy.
Khrushchev's personal political aims were also transparent: by being
the first to denounce the personality cult, he shrewdly isolated his
closest rivals and antagonists, Molotov, Malenkov, Kaganovich and
Voroshilov - who, together with Khrushchev, had been Stalin's closest
associates.
True enough. But in terms
of history and 'wider polities' the actual consequences of Khrushchev's
political actions were crucial. The criticism of Stalin, who personified
the regime, served not only to disclose the gravity of the situation
in our society and the perverted character of the political struggle
that was taking place within it - it also revealed a lack of basic
legitimacy. The criticism morally discredited totalitarianism, arousing
hopes for a reform of the system and serving as a strong impetus to
new processes in the sphere of politics and economics as well as in
the spiritual life of our country. Khrushchev and his supporters must
be given full credit for this. Khrushchev must be given credit too
for the rehabilitation of thousands of people, and the restoration
of the good name of hundreds of thousands of innocent citizens who
perished in Stalimst prisons and camps.
Khrushchev had no intention
of analysing systematically the roots of totalitarianism. He was probably
not even capable of doing so. And for this very reason the criticism
of the personality cult, though rhetorically harsh, was in essence
incomplete and confined from the start to well-defined limits. The
process of true democratization was nipped in the bud.
Khrushchev's foreign policy
was characterized by the same inconsistencies. His active presence
in the international political arena, his proposal of peaceful co-existence
and his initial attempts at normalizing relations with the leading
countries of the capitalist world; the newly defined relations with
India, Egypt and other Third World states; and finally, his attempt
to democratize ties with socialist allies - including his decision
to mend matters with Yugoslavia - all this was well received both
in our country and in the rest of the world and, undoubtedly, helped
to improve the international situation.
But at the same time there
was the brutal crushing of the Hungarian uprising in 1956; the adventurism
that culminated in the Cuba crisis of 1962, when the world was on
the brink of a nuclear disaster; and the quarrel with China, which
resulted in a protracted period of antagonism and enmity.
All domestic and foreign
policy decisions made at that time undoubtedly reflected not only
Khrushchev's personal understanding of the problems and his moods,
but also the different political forces that he had to consider. The
pressure of Party and government structures was especially strong,
forcing him to manoeuvre and to present this or that measure in a
form acceptable to such influential groups.
(7)
Mikhail Gorbachev, Perestroika (1987)
Europe is indeed a common
home where geography and history have closely
interwoven the destinies of dozens of countries and nations. Of course,
each of them has its own problem, and each wants to live its own life,
to follow its own traditions. Therefore, developing the metaphor,
one may say: the
home is common, that is true, but each family has its own apartment,
and there are different entrances too.
The concept of a 'common
European home' suggests above all a degree of integrity, even if its
states belong to different social systems and opposing military-political
alliances.
One can mention a number
of objective circumstances which create the need for a pan-European
policy:
(1) Densely populated
and highly urbanized, Europe bristles with weapons, both nuclear and
conventional. It would not be enough to call
it a 'powder keg' today.
(2) Even a conventional
war, to say nothing of a nuclear one, would be disastrous for Europe
today.
(3) Europe is one of the
most industrialised regions of the world. Its industry and transport
have developed to the point where their danger to the environment
is close to being critical. This problem has crossed far beyond national
borders, and is now being shared by all of Europe.
(4) Integrative processes
are developing intensively in both parts of Europe. The requirements
of economic development in both parts of Europe, as well as scientific
and technological progress, prompt the search for some kind of mutually
advantageous cooperation. What I mean is not some kind of 'European
autarky', but better use of the
aggregate potential of Europe for the benefit of its peoples, and
in relations with the rest of the world.
(5) The two parts of Europe
have a lot of their own problems of an East-West dimension, but they
also have a common interest in solving the extremely acute North-South
problem.
Our idea of a 'common
European home' certainly does not involve shutting its doors to anybody.
True, we would not like to see anyone kick in the doors of the European
home and take the head of the table at somebody else's apartment.
But then, that is the concern of the owner of the apartment. In the
past, the Socialist countries responded positively to the participation
of the United States and Canada in the Helsinki Process.
(8)
Alexander
Dubcek,
Hope
Dies Last (1992)
Like everyone else, I
often reflect on the causes of the collapse of the Soviet Union. How
could this giant power crumble so quickly and so completely? There
are many learned theories about it, but I think that underlying all
of them is one elementary explanation: the system inhibited change.
It fed on dead doctrine and prevented a natural replacement of leaders.
When they finally tried to do something about it, it was too late
for remedies.
In 1968 we ran into this
dinosaur of a system still in working condition. The Politburo held
together the external empire that Stalin had grabbed and saw to it
that opposition arose nowhere. I had seen it in Dresden in March,
and then in Moscow in May. What we were trying to do was beyond their
comprehension.
The challenge was to maneuver
around them long enough to make them accept us on civilized terms.
I thought, optimistically, that we could prevail because their bullying
would not exceed certain limits. The 1956 crushing of Hungary was
way behind us: this was a different era. I think most of the world
agreed with me.
Beyond the Soviets' empty
phrases about "counterrevolution," the core of the dispute
was not our social system but our political reforms. We believed that
socialism - in our country at least - could not exist without democracy.
But the Soviets wanted us to reinstitute their model of one-party
dictatorship. Still, I did not believe that they would launch a war
against us just because of this disagreement. After all, we were bound
by a valid alliance treaty, and Czechoslovakia was avoiding anything
that might throw doubt on her loyalty. Moreover, the Soviets had for
years preached the principle of peaceful coexistence and noninterference
in the internal affairs of other countries. Was it rational to expect
that they would contradict all this by attacking us militarily? I
did not think so, and I do not think I was a dreamer. I did not expect
that they would commit an act that was bound to carry catastrophic
consequences for their own cause (which it did as no one today would
deny). And I simply did not expect the perfidy they were soon to display.
(9)
Mikhail Gorbachev, Nobel Lecture (5th June, 1991)
Today, peace means the
ascent from simple coexistence to cooperation and common creativity
among countries and nations.
Peace is movement towards
globality and universality of civilization. Never before has the idea
that peace is indivisible been so true as it is now.
Peace is not unity in similarity
but unity in diversity, in the comparison and conciliation of differences.
I consider the decision
of your Committee as a recognition of the great international importance
of the changes now under way in the Soviet Union, and as an expression
of confidence in our policy of new thinking, which is based on the
conviction that at the end of the twentieth century force and arms
will have to give way as a major instrument in world politics.
I see the decision to award
me the Nobel Peace Prize also as an act of solidarity with the monumental
undertaking which has already placed enormous demands on the Soviet
people in terms of efforts, costs, hardships, willpower, and character.
And solidarity is a universal value which is becoming indispensable
for progress and for the survival of humankind.
But a modern state has
to be worthy of solidarity, in other words, it should pursue, in both
domestic and international affairs, policies that bring together the
interests of its people and those of the world community. This task,
however obvious, is not a simple one. Life is much richer and more
complex than even the most perfect plans to make it better. It ultimately
takes vengeance for attempts to impose abstract schemes, even with
the best of intentions. Perestroika has made us understand this about
our past, and the actual experience of recent years has taught us
to reckon with the most general laws of civilization.
This, however, came later.
But back in March-April 1985 we found ourselves facing a crucial,
and I confess, agonizing choice. When I agreed to assume the office
of the General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union
Central Committee, in effect the highest State office at that time,
I realized that we could no longer live as before and that I would
not want to remain in that office unless I got support in undertaking
major reforms. It was clear to me that we had a long way to go. But
of course, I could not imagine how immense were our problems and difficulties.
I believe no one at that time could foresee or predict them.
Those who were then governing
the country knew what was really happening to it and what we later
called "zastoi", roughly translated as "stagnation".
They saw that our society was marking time, that it was running the
risk of falling hopelessly behind the technologically advanced part
of the world. Total domination of centrally-managed state property,
the pervasive authoritarian-bureaucratic system, ideology's grip on
politics, monopoly in social thought and sciences, militarized industries
that siphoned off our best, including the best intellectual resources,
the unbearable burden of military expenditures that suffocated civilian
industries and undermined the social achievements of the period since
the Revolution which were real and of which we used to be proud -
such was the actual situation in the country.
As a result, one of the
richest countries in the world, endowed with immense overall potential,
was already sliding downwards. Our society was declining, both economically
and intellectually.
And yet, to a casual observer
the country seemed to present a picture of relative well-being, stability
and order. The misinformed society under the spell of propaganda was
hardly aware of what was going on and what the immediate future had
in store for it. The slightest manifestations of protest were suppressed.
Most people considered them heretical, slanderous and counterrevolutionary
Such was the situation
in the spring of 1985, and there was a great temptation to leave things
as they were, to make only cosmetic changes. This, however, meant
continuing to deceive ourselves and the people.
This was the domestic aspect
of the dilemma then before us. As for the foreign policy aspect, there
was the East-West confrontation, a rigid division into friends and
foes, the two hostile camps with a corresponding set of Cold War attributes.
Both the East and the West were constrained by the logic of military
confrontation, wearing themselves down more and more by the arms race.
The mere thought of dismantling
the existing structures did not come easily. However, the realization
that we faced inevitable disaster, both domestically and internationally,
gave us the strength to make a historic choice, which I have never
since regretted.
Perestroika, which once
again is returning our people to commonsense, has enabled us to open
up to the world, and has restored a normal relationship between the
country's internal development and its foreign policy. But all this
takes a lot of hard work. To a people which believed that its government's
policies had always been true to the cause of peace, we proposed what
was in many ways a different policy, which would genuinely serve the
cause of peace, while differing from the prevailing view of what it
meant and particularly from the established stereotypes as to how
one should protect it. We proposed new thinking in foreign policy.
Thus, we embarked on a
path of major changes which may turn out to be the most significant
in the twentieth century, for our country and for its peoples. But
we also did this for the entire world.
We want to be an integral
part of modern civilization, to live in harmony with mankind's universal
values, abide by the norms of international law, follow the "rules
of the game" in our economic relations with the outside world.
We want to share with all other peoples the burden of responsibility
for the future of our common house.
A period of transition
to a new quality in all spheres of society's life is accompanied by
painful phenomena. When we were initiating perestroika we failed to
properly assess and foresee everything. Our society turned out to
be hard to move off the ground, not ready for major changes which
affect people's vital interests and make them leave behind everything
to which they bad become accustomed over many years. In the beginning
we imprudently generated great expectations, without taking into account
the fact that it takes time for people to realize that all have to
live and work differently, to stop expecting that new life would be
given from above.
Perestroika has now entered
its most dramatic phase. Following the transformation of the philosophy
of perestroika into real policy, which began literally to explode
the old way of life, difficulties began to mount. Many took fright
and wanted to return to the past. It was not only those who used to
hold the levers of power in the administration, the army and various
government agencies and who bad to make room, but also many people
whose interests and way of life was put to a severe test and who,
during the preceding decades, had forgotten how to take the initiative.
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