On the Scene: A Lecture in Moscow

WHEN I last visited the Soviet Union, in November 1979, I swore vigorously that I would never return. Through a blend of bureaucratic incompetence, sheer deceit, and a sharpening of the cold war following the seizure of the U.S. hostages in Teheran, my trip stalled in Moscow-all we saw here was the rehearsal for Red October Day. Sitting like robots on their self-propelled guns in freezing weather for hours on end, the troops looked terrifyingly menacing. Moscow seemed infinitely oppressive—and sinister.

This year, on the exact place where I had witnessed all those tanks, there was a huge anti-Gorbachev demonstration. Masses of police lined the street; but they were good-humored and restrained (much more so than riot police in Paris would have been). Looking on, as some of the demonstrators brought out old tsarist flags, was a returning boyar, Prince V-from London, now resident as a merchant in Moscow. It was a scene that, in 1979, would have stretched the imagination of even a science-fiction writer.

AH

About the Author

Alistair Horne

Sir Alistair Horne’s Kissinger: 1973, The Crucial Year is published by Simon & Schuster.

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WHEN I last visited the Soviet Union, in November 1979, I swore vigorously that I would never return. Through a blend of bureaucratic incompetence, sheer deceit, and a sharpening of the cold war following the seizure of the U.S. hostages in Teheran, my trip stalled in Moscow-all we saw here was the rehearsal for Red October Day. Sitting like robots on their self-propelled guns in freezing weather for hours on end, the troops looked terrifyingly menacing. Moscow seemed infinitely oppressive—and sinister.

This year, on the exact place where I had witnessed all those tanks, there was a huge anti-Gorbachev demonstration. Masses of police lined the street; but they were good-humored and restrained (much more so than riot police in Paris would have been). Looking on, as some of the demonstrators brought out old tsarist flags, was a returning boyar, Prince V-from London, now resident as a merchant in Moscow. It was a scene that, in 1979, would have stretched the imagination of even a science-fiction writer.