The military was indeed an immense drag on the Soviet economy—by some estimates devouring as much as 16 per cent of the GDP. Revealingly, even Politburo members knew little about the military budget and its impact on the economy; only in the autumn of 1986 did they learn that defence consumed 40 per cent of the state budget, not counting the subsidies and aid given to allies in the communist bloc and to developing countries. The sheer size of the armed forces, together with the gargantuan costs of maintaining nuclear parity, diverted critical resources that could have been funnelled towards such urgent priorities of revitalization as investment in the industrial sector. As Gorbachev stressed in May 1986, it was essential to reduce the crushing pressure generated by ‘the vice of defence expenditures’.
It was not just finances that concerned Gorbachev: he also came to believe that nuclear disarmament was an urgent priority. He was already familiar with the writings of the nuclear disarmament movement and, revealingly, authorized the return of Andrei Sakharov—a leading exponent of nuclear disarmament—from exile in Gorkii. Gorbachev’s personal commitment was greatly strengthened by the events of 26 April 1986, when a nuclear power plant in Chernobyl exploded and spewed immense amounts of radioactive materials into the atmosphere. The disaster cost dearly in terms of human life (thousands killed, nearly half a million exposed to high doses of radiation) and resources (billions of roubles). The disaster hardened Gorbachev’s resolve to reverse the nuclear arms race; as he told members of the Politburo, ‘we learned what nuclear war can be’.
All this propelled Gorbachev’s bold initiative for disarmament. In August 1985 his government announced a unilateral moratorium on nuclear tests and internally began to revise its nuclear strategy, shifting the goal from ‘nuclear parity’ to ‘nuclear sufficiency’—that is, a downscaled military which would reduce costs yet guarantee deterrence. Sensitive to economic imperatives, Gorbachev warned that Moscow must avoid being ‘drawn into an arms race which is beyond our capacity’ and which Moscow was bound to ‘lose’. Gorbachev’s charm offensive won strong support from European leaders, most notably Margaret Thatcher, the arch-conservative British prime minister, who wrote to US President Ronald Reagan that Gorbachev ‘was much less constrained, more charming, open to discussion and debate, and did not stick to prepared notes’.
The United States, however, was a hard nut to crack. The conservative administration of Ronald Reagan was aggressively anticommunist; in 1983 the president himself characterized the Soviet Union as the ‘evil empire’ and shortly afterwards announced the Strategic Defence Initiative (SDI, popularly known as ‘Star Wars’)—a defensive missile system designed to negate parity and mutual deterrence. Key officials, such as CIA director Robert Gates, dismissed perestroika as a sham and Gorbachev’s overtures as a ruse. The ideological intransigence in Washington, predictably, strengthened the hand of Politburo critics who regarded an agreement with the anti-communist Reagan as impossible. Such pessimism seemed justified by the stalemate at Reykjavik (11–12 October 1986), when Reagan—largely because of SDI—spurned Gorbachev’s proposals to achieve nuclear disarmament within a decade. A conservative like the KGB head Viktor Chebrikov thereupon argued that ‘the Americans understand only power’, and the military redoubled its demand for still more resources.
But Washington was not the only obstacle to improving Soviet–American relations: a fair share of the blame rests with Moscow itself. Gorbachev himself was loath to abandon Soviet clients in the third world, despite the fact that they cost the Soviet Union immense sums—in financial and military assistance—that the Kremlin could ill afford. The Afghan conflict was particularly troublesome. Although some in Moscow (including the military) endorsed rapid disengagement, Gorbachev and others feared that a precipitous withdrawal would unleash a bloodbath and gravely compromise Russia’s vital interests. As an interim solution, Gorbachev proposed to ‘indigenize’ the conflict: that is, promote ‘Afghanization’—making pro-Moscow Afghanis responsible for combating the Islamists. But that policy too ran afoul of America’s engagement, especially its clandestine support of Islamic insurgents; the Afghan question, which had ended détente, continued to weigh heavily on Soviet–American relations.
Perestroika: From Modest Renovation to Fundamental Reconstruction
