U.S.-Soviet Relations: The Long Road Back

William G. Hyland

From Foreign Affairs, America and the World 1981

Summary:  American presidents have usually inherited poor relations with the Soviet Union. President Eisenhower, of course, was confronted by the tensions of Korea and President Kennedy by the Berlin crisis. Lyndon Johnson was a temporary exception, but Richard Nixon inherited Vietnam and the Czech crisis. Gerald Ford had to deal with a faltering détente, and Jimmy Carter was embroiled in early disputes. In January 1981, Ronald Reagan found himself in much the same position as his predecessors, except that relations were worse than usual. Indeed, relations were frozen. Even the outgoing Administration was pessimistic. The departing American Ambassador to the U.S.S.R., Thomas J. Watson, Jr., summed up the prevailing gloom: "I don't think the West has any conception of how dismal the future looks for East-West relations."

William G. Hyland is currently a Senior Associate at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace. He served in the Department of State in 1974-75 and as Deputy Director of the National Security Council Staff from 1975 to 1977.

The Reagan Administration inherited what seemed to be a series of crises, beginning in the Middle East and the Persian Gulf and stretching as far as El Salvador and Cambodia. The approach advocated by the new Administration flowed from an analysis that was almost the reverse of Carter's priorities. Whereas the old Administration had initially attempted to relegate the Soviet problem to a secondary position, the Reagan Administration ostentatiously restored Soviet relations to the central position. Indeed, it tended to assign Moscow a pervasive responsibility for international disorder. Even some fundamental North-South issues were seen as an indirect Soviet challenge, and old issues such as the Arab-Israeli dispute were re-examined on the basis of a need for a broad anti-Soviet "consensus." Finally, in the initial phase "linkage" was heavily stressed on the grounds that restraint in Soviet behavior was a prerequisite to real relaxation of tensions.

The Soviets, of course, brusquely dismissed any notion of preconditions. In April, Brezhnev said that the Soviets would be "simpletons" if they were to insist that Washington abandon all foreign bases before talks could begin. Yet for a number of reasons the Soviets have been cautious and circumspect in their behavior.

Of course, the opportunities were narrow. There was nothing resembling the openings in Angola in 1975 or Ethiopia in 1977-78. Throughout 1981, in each of the minor crises-Syrian missiles in Lebanon, the shootdown of the Libyan aircraft, the Sudanese-Chad-Libyan dispute, even El Salvador and Nicaragua-the Soviets did not continue the broad offensive of the late 1970s, but stopped well short of their capabilities for exploitation.

It may be that the Reagan position on linkage had some deterrent value; some Soviet officials indicated that it was desirable to insulate regional conflicts from broad U.S.-Soviet relations, thus acknowledging the practical impact of linkage. But probably the most important reason for Soviet caution was the need for a period of consolidation. The problems of Afghanistan and Poland, the inability to formulate a new five-year plan (finally published nine months late), and the need to evaluate carefully the Reagan policies, all combined to recommend a Soviet holding action, a watching brief. And this, indeed, seems to have been the main characteristic of Soviet policy in 1981.

Developments in the Middle East and Persian Gulf were additional reasons for Soviet caution. The Iraqi attack against Iran in late 1980 created a new situation: should Moscow support its treaty partner in Baghdad or play for larger stakes to influence the future alignment of Iran? In effect, the Soviets chose to hold the door open to Iran. This meant they could act with restraint in the war and even claim some international credit for doing so. Despite the bloody record of the Iranian regime, Moscow refrained from virtually any criticism, even though many of its sympathizers and supporters were being put to death. The Iranian revolution remained anti-imperialist "in essence" and thus was still a major prize to be won over.

Moreover, Pakistan was showing the signs of prolonged strain under the pressures emanating from Afghanistan, Moscow and New Delhi. Though all of the various efforts to open genuine negotiations over Afghanistan proved abortive, Western and Pakistani persistence in pursuing them may well have suggested to Moscow that it really had little to fear. (Whether it could somehow bring the Afghan rebellion under control was a different matter.) Added to the potential for significant gains in Iran and perhaps in Pakistan, there was a potential for further upheavals following the death of Sadat, the new alliance of Libya, South Yemen and Ethiopia, and the struggle for Chad and the Sudan. All of this turmoil probably encouraged Moscow to wait for new opportunities-a style well-suited to Soviet policy in any case.

This period of relative restraint facilitated a dialogue of sorts between Washington and Moscow. Despite some stringent qualifications, both sides indicated that it might be worthwhile to explore some ground rules to regulate their competition. Secretary Haig alluded to such an effort early in the year, Brezhnev took it up in April, and later in September President Reagan in his note to Brezhnev made it an agenda item. The President took the position that Soviet-American relations could not really improve without clear Soviet restraint in the Third World. Foreign Minister Gromyko responded by proposing to Haig negotiations on a set of principles of U.S.-Soviet relations. Whether drafting such principles remains on the agenda is not known, but the issues such a process would raise would strike at the heart of the relationship.

In May 1972 the two superpowers agreed on a set of principles which its principal architect, Henry Kissinger, described as expressing the "necessity of responsible political conduct." Their principal defect was that they lent themselves to varying and even contradictory interpretations (which the drafters, of course, recognized). The United States basically wanted to preserve the status quo, or at least regulate change in a measured fashion. It sought Soviet cooperation. The U.S.S.R., however, wanted to challenge if not assault the existing order whenever and wherever it was relatively safe to do so. A spheres of influence agreement might have resolved the conflict, but this was impossible. Therefore, a large area of the world has remained open to competition, because a code of conduct could not be translated into a meaningful set of understandings and agreements.

This issue, of course, has yet to be resolved. To reject out of hand any code of conduct would be an invitation to anarchy, if not confrontation. But to agree on generalities might also invite an inadvertent clash. Both sides seem well aware of the alternatives, and have been proceeding without much fanfare, but probably without any great expectations.

The issues are by no means abstract ones. In the Persian Gulf, the United States would have to seek guarantees that the U.S.S.R. would not pursue "unilateral advantage" by exploiting growing instabilities to occupy northern Iran. A similar guarantee for Pakistan from both the Soviet Union and India would be desirable if the area is to achieve any long-term stability. Similarly, Soviet restraint in the Arab-Israeli dispute is a condition to any durable long-term settlement. But Soviet statements suggest Moscow would, in return, be seeking the reduction or withdrawal of American influence and power in the Middle East and the Persian Gulf, as well as a political neutralization of Southwest Asia. It is difficult to foresee the basis for any fundamental settlement between the two powers. Continued conflict seems far more likely.