6/06/00 9:30 a.m.
Misunderstanding Moscow
As expected, the Moscow Summit closed without a deal.

By Paul Saunders, director of The Nixon Center

s expected, the Moscow Summit closed without a deal on the modification of the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty to permit America to deploy a limited national missile defense. Though the U.S. and Russia did sign agreements on the destruction of plutonium stocks and the creation of a joint early-warning center, as well as a something-for-everyone declaration of principles on missile defense, the agreements hardly merited a meeting of the two presidents. This perception was shared on the Russian side; Russian State Duma Deputy Speaker Vladimir Lukin, of the pro-Western Yabloko faction, said on a Russian television news program that every one of the agreements could have been signed without a summit. As a former Russian Ambassador to Washington, Lukin would be in a position to know. Because the official meetings during the summit were so predictable, the most significant aspect of President Clinton's trip to Moscow was in some respects his address to a joint session of the Russian parliament on Monday, June 5. No previous American president has had such an opportunity. Curiously, in the Russian television broadcast of the speech, the president appeared somber and somewhat ill at ease as he read his prepared text — an unusual sight for Americans used to his often more energetic and emotive presentations. Still, the speech was interesting in that it demonstrated what the Clinton Administration has learned — and not learned — about dealing with Russia.

First, for example, the president has clearly become wary of U.S. domestic criticism of a Russia policy that has often seemed to be based primarily on American advice to Russia and a sense that if Russia's leaders would just listen, they would understand why it was really in their best interest to avoid intervention in Chechnya, to support NATO's campaign against Yugoslavia, or to take other steps in line with U.S. preferences. Thus, the president humbly said, "we Americans have to overcome the temptation to think that we have all the answers." But the statement seemed aimed at deflecting criticism rather than signaling a change in approach; just paragraphs later, he listed "institutions of a modern economy" that he hopes the Russian parliament will establish. "Clinton spoke as if he were president of the whole planet, preaching to us how to live," complained one Communist governor in an interview.

This reaction is indicative of the fact that the administration has yet to learn how to deal with the Russian parliament. Strangely, the format of the speech — which included an extensive introductory section replete with citations of local developments across Russia, brief references to most of the key issues in the U.S.-Russian relationship, and a call to cooperative action — seemed almost like a State of the Union address. Mr. Clinton's reference to "the people of Gadzhiyevo on the Arctic Circle who organized a referendum to protect the environment of their town" could easily have been exchanged with similar action by concerned homeowners in America's Midwest.

His general comments on international affairs ("Real peace in life comes not when you give up the feelings you have that are wrong, but when you give up the feelings that you have that are right, in terms of having been wronged in the past") echoed also his domestic rhetoric. It was almost as if Mr. Clinton's speechwriters were unsure how to deal with the potentially hostile Russian parliament and decided to use their experience with his presentations to the Republican Congress as a model--but without the attempts at humor. Given the very limited time and attention the administration has given to understanding and building bridges to the State Duma and the Federation Council (not to mention the Supreme Soviet before them), it would not be surprising if this were in fact the case.

The president's treatment of Chechnya in the speech to the parliament demonstrated a similar lack of understanding. Though Mr. Clinton sought to express sympathy for Russia's predicament by saying that Russia "has a right to combat terrorism and to preserve the integrity of [the country]," the attempt backfired when he attempted to equate the dispute between Russia and America in Kosovo with their differences over Chechnya. Boris Gryzlov, the head of the Duma's pro-government faction, responded after the speech that "it is an incorrect comparison to make. It shows that he does not understand the situation in our country." Other Russian lawmakers were disturbed that Clinton tried to juxtapose what they consider to be a matter of Russia's internal policy with America's (and NATO's) attack on a sovereign state.

Ultimately, of course, the best barometer for a speech is the reaction of the audience, which, in this case, yields yet another similarity with the president's State of the Union experiences. According to one Russian parliamentarian friendly to the U.S., Russian legislators reacted coolly to Mr. Clinton's remarks — what applause there was came primarily from the almost two hundred Americans who accompanied the president to the parliamentary chambers. Unfortunately, as the president has already discovered, it is difficult to make much progress with applause on only one side of the aisle.