The Third World War: August 1985

CHAPTER 7: Summit and Aftermath

Preparations for a summit meeting continued, but, by tacit mutual consent, at a rather slower tempo than that originally demanded by Moscow. As a first step the US and Soviet Foreign Ministers visited their respective allies in Europe. The Secretary of State found Western European opinion torn between two opposing anxieties. In spite of the North Sea, West Europe was still heavily dependent on Middle East oil. From this point of view, therefore, they hoped that the United States would secure the reopening of the oil route by firm action in the Gulf, the Indian Ocean and Southern Africa. But they were reluctant to advocate this too openly because they feared the obvious American rejoinder: ‘If you want the oil as much as we do, come and help us get it.’ Very few of them had any significant capability for military action outside Europe. Most of them pleaded the old argument that NATO’s area of responsibility was limited to Europe and a defined area of the North Atlantic — north of the Tropic of Cancer — and that the action was likely to lie outside those limits. They were faced, not for the first time, with this basic inconsistency between the terms of the Alliance and the real situation on the ground. The line of demarcation on the continent of Europe was better defined and had a history of thirty-five years of stability, due to the concentration of NATO defence on the maintenance of that line as inviolate. But if the causes of tension were outside, where no clear lines existed, and if the tension spread around the world until Europe was encircled by conflict, could the states of Western Europe afford to stay in their tight little laager?

Alternatively, the question was put with some irony from the American side: if the Europeans can’t or won’t help to keep the oil producers free and the sea lanes open, will they do more in Europe and the Atlantic so that US reinforcements can in some part be diverted from Europe to other areas more immediately at risk?

At this point the other latent anxiety of the Europeans began to show itself more clearly. If the US, with direct or indirect help from Europe, took a strong line with the Soviet Union or its Middle Eastern or African supporters, and if this action were successful, would not the Soviet Union be tempted to restore its overall situation and acquire a major bargaining counter by attacking in Europe? This might be particularly tempting if US forces in Europe were to be reduced, or if it was known that fewer US reinforcements were available.

Europe’s will to win and power to make decisions were further sapped by internal developments. The Community, now enlarged to include Spain, Portugal and Greece, had taken some steps towards the common production of military equipment, but had not yet acquired the institutions necessary for the formulation of a common foreign policy or for more effective pooling of military forces in the field. Moreover, Western Europe had not yet fully decided how to live with Euro-communism. In Italy the Communist Party had gained ground by its reputation for restoring law and order, but its very success, and its participation in government, made it more vulnerable to the corruption of power. On the other hand, being now about as powerful as it wanted to be in Italy, without having full responsibility for all the country’s problems, the Party was no more inclined than before to a Soviet takeover, and therefore maintained, in those uneasy years of peace, a reasonably satisfactory degree of Italian participation in NATO.

In France, on the other hand, now under a Popular Front government, the balance of political forces was more precarious. The French Communist Party was still divided between those who maintained the purity of dogma above all and those who saw a modicum of flexibility as required both to keep alive the floundering unity of the left and to win back more votes from the post-Gaullist right. France’s ambivalent attitude to common defence seemed still to suit most political persuasions, but there was much greater divergence on how to handle the crisis of the early 1980s. The nuclear power programme had been limited by environmentalist protests, and even in its reduced form the stations were not fully on stream. Possessing very little native oil, France was heavily dependent on imported energy. With the East-West frontier now bisecting the Middle Eastern suppliers, would oil be more securely acquired by private deals with the USSR and Egypt, or by backing the US counter-offensive to re-open traditional routes? Or would a crafty combination of the two be best — negotiations tous azimuths, as it were?

The United Kingdom, at the peak of its oil production, was less sensitive than others to a threat to external supplies, and even the return to comparative prosperity and a Conservative government had done little to diminish the parochialism of the seventies.

In Germany the wilder excesses of the urban left had been contained, not without difficulty and with much soul-searching about the increasing power of the police. Disillusion with the European Community helped to foster a revival of the historic belief that in the long run economic prosperity would depend very largely on the development of markets and supplies in Eastern Europe. The industrial and commercial pre-eminence of the Federal Republic in Western Europe was matched by that of the German Democratic Republic in the East. Some more daring politicians were tempted by this coincidence to wonder what they might do together. The majority, while still rejecting dreams of even an economic pan-German superpower, nevertheless accepted the importance of maintaining the advantages which accrued almost imperceptibly to a people who had a foot in either camp. While it might be dangerous to envisage a removal of the barrier between them, the sharpening of its prongs by renewed East-West conflict would be decidedly uncomfortable.

So the Secretary of State did not gather a very united or determined impression of European feelings from his tour of some of the more important Western capitals. The United States would as usual have to go it largely alone in the Middle East and the South Atlantic, and would no doubt be blamed for the consequences if things went wrong — though perhaps a rather longer exposure than usual to the rough and tumble of world politics and to the shortages and privations resulting even from the present situation would encourage the European doves to grow some beaks and claws. The position papers flew thick and fast in the State Department and the options remained irritatingly open.

The Soviet Foreign Minister did not fare much better in his rather more perfunctory tour of Eastern capitals. These countries saw their painful gains in economic prosperity endangered by Soviet brinkmanship. They found it hard to believe Soviet warnings about an energy shortage by the end of the century, which could only be remedied by laying hands directly or by proxy on a large slice of Middle Eastern oil supplies — upon which was based Soviet support for Egypt’s incursion into Arabia. They feared that Soviet moves towards a war footing would put further and intolerable pressure on the supply and price of consumer goods, including food. They pointed out — in vain — that while the Soviet secret police had to deal only with a handful of known intellectual dissidents, they (in Poland, for example) were faced by a movement much more widely and solidly based on the workers’ expectation of a standard of living that would approach first that of East Germany, then that of West Germany. Except in most aspects of military technology and the technology of space, the gap was increasing between the inefficiency of Soviet production and the far greater technical and managerial skills of East Germany, Hungary, Poland and Czechoslovakia. Western methods and Western technology were increasingly seen as more relevant and more desirable. The example of Euro-communism in the West suggested that Party cadres could restore some of their tarnished popularity by keeping their distance from the Communist Party of the Soviet Union.

So, when the Secretary of State and Foreign Minister Baronzov met at Geneva at the end of January 1985, each had to look not only at his interlocutor across the table, but also, even more searchingly, over his shoulder at the silent ranks of his allies and supporters. A week was spent agreeing on the agenda for their meeting and a further two weeks on that for the summit. At last it was settled that President Thompson and President Vorotnikov (the offices of President of the USSR and Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union (CPSU) had by then long been firmly unified) should meet on 15 February to discuss all threats to peace and any situation likely to lead to nuclear hostilities.

Political observers and media commentators were puzzled and divided over the mood of the participants and the prospects for peace or war. Each side had stepped further into the uncharted sea of confrontation than any of their predecessors since Cuba and the Berlin blockade. The point was, did they find the temperature to their liking? Each had found a keen front man — the US in Iran and the Soviet Union in Egypt — but both were aware of the instability of such protagonists. Their more solid supporters were more than usually hesitant. In one respect each had a similar requirement: to be sure of energy supplies from the Middle East until alternative sources could be established. Public opinion in the US still felt that abundant cheap energy was a god-given right of the American people. They had elected Thompson in the belief that he would be better at getting it for them than Carter had been at persuading them they didn’t need so much. Vorotnikov had other preoccupations. The Russian people could be relied on to accept what they were given, but with Eastern Europe the choice was more difficult: either to advance more quickly towards Western consumer standards, or to restore the somewhat eroded dictatorship of the CPSU and enforce acceptance of a lower standard. The former would require more oil, the latter more Soviet troops. Both, with the growing threat from China, might be in short supply. A foreign bogey would, as usual, encourage compliance, but a bogey in the Indian Ocean might be inadequate for the purpose.

After two days of recrimination and brinkmanship, the result emerged — one that should perhaps have been more easily predictable: peace with honour. The standstill was confirmed; the control of oilfields remained as it was, that is, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Iraq stayed with Egypt and the USSR, Iran and the Lower Gulf stayed with the West. There was to be no supply of arms to either side in Africa or Arabia (significantly, there was no reference to Iran, Cuba or Jamaica); mutual notification of naval movements was agreed, with exchange of satellite photographs to confirm it; and there would be a resumption of SALT and negotiations for MBFR (mutual and balanced force reductions).

In fact no one was satisfied with what they had got, but some were more dissatisfied than others. Thompson made much of having snatched peace out of the jaws of war (with a confused memory of a Churchillian antithesis mixed with a phrase of Chamberlain’s), and of the time won to build more ships and develop indigenous oil resources. He did not actually wave a piece of paper from the White House balcony, but the general atmosphere had more than a hint of August 1938.

The Soviet Union started building pipelines and oil terminals to move her new oil north instead of south, its former direction. More important in the short term, the Soviet leaders devoted urgent attention to the means of restoring Soviet authority in Eastern Europe, penetrating the communist parties in Western Europe, and guarding their frontier republics against the growing presence of China. The build-up of Soviet military strength continued.

The Chinese were perhaps the most disappointed of all. In the uneasy triangle of forces so accurately forecast for 1984 by George Orwell they had hoped for much from the sharpening of US-Soviet confrontation in the Middle East and Southern Africa. They feared little from the US. Their doctrines led them to believe in the ultimate victory of their system over capitalism. They could afford to wait for history to produce its inevitable result. But rivalry with another seat of communism was different. There was nothing in holy writ to show how this would turn out. Besides, even in an age of rockets, a land frontier seemed a good deal more vulnerable than several thousand kilometres of Pacific Ocean. The standstill agreement at the US-Soviet summit deprived China of the good fortune which had seemed to be coming its way in an intensified struggle between the two rival superpowers. The ensuing reassessment showed China still a long way behind in nuclear potential and conventional sophistication. Numbers of men seemed hardly to make up for these deficiencies. It was necessary to seek some other way of compensating for the Soviet predominance in armaments.

The home front in the USSR — or at least in the Soviet areas contiguous to China — seemed to offer a possible target. It would have been dangerous for China to invoke nationalism as a subversive slogan before Sinkiang and Tibet had been fully brought under control. Now the risk of regional insurgency was far less there than in the Soviet republics in central Asia. Moreover, there were elements from many of these Moslem people, ethnically and linguistically Turkish, living in China’s far west. With a modest growth of cultural freedom and with economic development springing from Japanese investment in the new co-prosperity sphere, it should not be too difficult to create centres of attraction in China for the Uzbeks and the Kazakhs. A movement for real autonomy in the Soviet republics on the Sino-Soviet border could have enormous advantages for China, at least in providing another preoccupation for Soviet policy makers, in drawing off Soviet troops who might otherwise be threatening China, and in creating suspicion as to the loyalty of units recruited in those areas.

Meanwhile, back in the West the phoney peace was beginning to wear thin. It goes without saying that neither the US nor the USSR trusted the other enough to make any real attempt at disarmament. On the contrary, Warsaw Pact preparedness increased at the same rate as before while NATO continued to make some modest improvements. Political skirmishing was resumed. Three elements in particular contributed to the build-up of instability: oil, the Middle East and the Balkans, none of them new but each spreading its effects like secondary growths after an unsuccessful operation.

The disruption of oil supplies and the resulting shortages all over the world were like a running sore, making calm thought more difficult, leading to internal and international tensions, distorting economies and increasing unemployment. The new patterns of distribution were fragile and susceptible to political uncertainty. The control of the North Arabian supplies by the Egyptian-dominated UAR was in these circumstances hardly a guarantee of stability.

This was the sixth attempt at Arab union in which Egypt had been involved. All the previous ones had failed after longer or shorter periods. The few centres of population in Saudi Arabia could be controlled by military force. The association with Iraq was more uneasy. The age-old cry of Arab unity was tarnished by the only too visible presence of Soviet technicians at the oil fields and the ports. Even in this day and age the old hatreds between Sunnis and Shias were likely to erupt when Saudis and Iraqis were too closely intermingled. Arab unity is a dream which has inspired some of the noblest thinkers of that race, but in actual history Arab division has been more constant and more influential. The personal rivalries of Arab politicians have always fed on the discrepancies of tribe and dogma and social stratification.

The new union had stalled before accomplishing its full purpose. With all the Arabian oil (especially if Iran had dissolved into chaos, as Arab propagandists had persuaded themselves would happen) the Arab union might have stood a chance of real independence. It might even have held the superpowers to ransom, from the moment when Middle Eastern oil was seen to be essential for their survival. But now, with Arabia only half won, and with Iran resurgent and better armed, the divisions of the Arab world were compounded by the contest between Soviet Russia and America. Imperialism was back under other names, and it was no wonder that disillusion had set in.

Assassination was not far behind. The association between the Shias in Iraq and the godless Russians provoked a resurgence of that orthodox fanaticism which had claimed so many political victims in the past. The murder of the Egyptian Prime Minister not only left a power vacuum in the Council of the Union, but caused ripples and echoes among the Moslem subject races of the Soviet Union, already wooed by China.

A new government was patched together with military participation, but the seeds of doubt had been sown in the Politburo about the viability of control by proxy in so vital an area. Plans were made and forces earmarked for a more direct Soviet intervention. Equipment, clothing and warlike stores appropriate for hot climate operations were issued, and an urgent programme of modification to vehicles and weapons put in hand. Crash courses in Arabic were undertaken and encyclopaedia articles rewritten to prove the fundamental compatibility between the social principles of Islam and those of Marxism-Leninism.

Meanwhile, a new crisis began to develop nearer home. After Tito’s disappearance from the political scene Yugoslavia had survived the succession problem in the first instance with less difficulty than had been forecast. Inevitably the regions had obtained a little more power and the economic arrangements in each region had diverged a little more from the general norm, mostly leaning even further than before towards the market economy, but the basic federal organization remained more or less intact. Now, however, the general difficulties caused by oil shortages and price increases added to the latent tensions between the richer north and the poorer south of the country. The non-aligned group of countries, of which Yugoslavia and Egypt had been founder members, had been brusquely reduced by Egypt’s acceptance of Soviet tutelage. As the path of non-commitment became narrower, Slovenia began slipping off to the West and Serbia to the East.

West Germany had for some time seen Ljubljana as one of the gateways to the development of the more intensive trade with Eastern Europe which its industry seemed increasingly to require. The Slovenian provincial administration responded to West German advances with an alacrity that went beyond merely commercial advantage and suggested a vision of a new Balkan Switzerland where East and West could meet on equal terms. The central government took fright at this separatist trend and sought to redress the balance by turning a blind eye to pro-Soviet groups which had always been in existence and had lately been sharpening up their capability for agitation against just this eventuality. Their danger signals to the CPSU lost nothing in transmission. The restoration of orthodox communist control in Yugoslavia was now moved up to quite near the top in the Kremlin’s list of objectives.