Eagle, I don't want to form an alliance anymore.

At 3 a.m., all the issues had progressed, except for SDI, which remained deadlocked.

At 6:30 a.m., both groups reported to their respective leaders. Schultz said to Reagan:

"We have gone further than in any previous negotiation."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The negotiations collapsed the next day.

The talks resumed at 10 a.m., and both sides realized they were on the verge of a historic moment.

Before noon, the two reached a consensus on a proposition—the precise wording of which is still debated by historians because the two sets of meeting records from the US and the Soviet Union differ:

The US record states that both sides agreed to eliminate all ballistic missiles within ten years, while the Soviet record states that both sides agreed to eliminate all strategic nuclear weapons within ten years.

Gorbachev then proposed: "Let's just say it directly: eliminate all nuclear weapons in ten years."

Reagan nodded: "If this is what you mean, I agree. We will eliminate all nuclear weapons in ten years."

This was the closest the Cold War had ever come to complete nuclear disarmament.

The two fell silent for a moment—perhaps they were both stunned by what they had just said:

Eliminate all nuclear weapons.

The things that humanity has created, enough to destroy civilizations dozens of times over, may be consigned to history within ten years by a single sentence from these two people sitting in a haunted old house, sharing a toilet!

Then they began to address the last issue—SDI.

Gorbachev: "We agree with all of this, but on the condition that SDI research is confined to the laboratory and not deployed within ten years."

Reagan: "Mikhail, I can't do that."

Gorbachev: "Then we'll have nothing left."

Reagan: "I cannot back down on your use of the word 'laboratory'."

The closest agreement in human history to complete nuclear disarmament has been stalled at this word.

At 3 p.m., the two made one last attempt to salvage the agreement.

Reagan: "Are we really going to push aside a historic agreement over just one word?"

Gorbachev: "Ronald, if I give in, the Politburo will hang me from a tree."

Reagan took this as a helpless joke about Gorbachev. But only Slava and the reformist coalition, who had united their positions, knew that if Gorbachev dared to concede here, they would really make him attend the meeting unarmed.

At 6:30 p.m., the two left the Hofdie residence and parted ways in the cold, rainy Icelandic weather.

The television cameras captured Reagan, his jaw clenched, saying something to Gorbachev. Reagan later recalled that the words were, "I truly believe we were just a hair's breadth away from achieving it," to which Gorbachev nodded, pale-faced.

This scene of parting in the rain became one of the most iconic images of the Cold War in the 1980s.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

In the West, some rejoiced while others grieved. Paul nearly choked up at a press conference that evening: "We are very close, very, very close, we are about to succeed..."

That seems to indicate a basic success.

American conservatives, such as Pearl and Weinberg, privately rejoiced, believing that an agreement would undermine America's nuclear deterrent. Former British Prime Minister Thatcher immediately called Washington to strongly oppose the agreement—she feared Europe would lose the US nuclear umbrella.

The Americans withdrew their nuclear weapons and ballistic missiles. What will happen when the Soviet Union's armored onslaught hits Western Europe? Only God knows.

At the press conference, Gorbachev did not blame Reagan: "I think we have climbed very high. Although we haven't crossed the summit, we can see the horizon from this height."

This was the first time the Communist Party of the Soviet Union had allowed its leaders not to criticize their opponents in international settings.

Slava watched Gorbachev's press conference on television in the Far East. Now, the Soviet Union could wait for domestic pressure in the United States, for pressure from its Western European allies, and for the SDI to reveal its unfeasibility. Then, at the appropriate time, they could separate the European Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces (INF) missile program from the SDI and negotiate it separately.

A prophecy.

"In December 1987, General Secretary Ivanov and President Reagan signed the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Forces Treaty in Washington, D.C. This was the first treaty in human history to eliminate an entire class of nuclear weapons, and it was based on the reformist consensus in Reykjavik. —History of the CPSU, Volume VI"

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Slava's trip to the Far East was unusual, as it marked his first major inter-provincial inspection since assuming the position of Director of the National Economic and Information Commission.

In theory, he did not have the authority to conduct the inspection; it should have been General Secretary Gorbachev who did it. However, the moderate reformists withstood the pressure in the Politburo and unanimously agreed to let Slava go to inspect the border.

Of course, Gorbachev would only know that Slava's trip was to "supervise the development of economic informatization and the promotion of industry-academia collaboration in the Far East."

What Slava really wanted to do was far more important than that statement; he wanted to see for himself what the reforms in the Far East had become as the wave of openness swept across the Soviet Union.

He wants to put the brakes on some policies that have already gone too far.

Khabarovsk. Evening of October 28.

According to the original itinerary, Slava was supposed to go directly to the state guesthouse and begin his formal inspection the next day. But he suddenly said this after stepping off the gangway.

"Let's go to the city center, Lenin Square first." "Comrade Ivanov, the State Guesthouse is already there—"

"I know, but I'll go to the square first."

Over the past year, Slava has developed a good habit that both respects and intimidates grassroots cadres: he never follows the carefully planned tour route, but always makes impromptu detours to places that have not been cleaned or rehearsed.

Lenin Square is the center of Khabarovsk. It is a typical city square with a statue of the Mentor in the center, surrounded by administrative buildings and department stores.

As evening approached, the square was filled with citizens passing by after get off work or taking a stroll. When Slava's convoy stopped at the edge of the square, and when people recognized the short man who stepped out of the car as Ivanov, who often appeared on television, a small group of people quickly gathered around.

Slava walked into the crowd and began chatting with people. A television crew accompanying him set up cameras; the conversation would be broadcast live.

A middle-aged female worker squeezed to the front. She was wearing a blue work jacket issued by the factory and carrying a net bag containing several kinds of food. Her face showed the weariness and fatigue etched by years of working in the workshop.

She asked kindly, "Velikoslav Ivanovich, may I say a few words to you?"

"Of course, comrade, please speak."

“We’ve been in a lot of chaos lately,” the female worker’s words caused the official next to her to change his expression drastically. In a daze, the cadre could already see his future in Siberia.

"Our living standards have indeed improved. Stores no longer only sell canned goods and salt; there's more meat and vegetables now. That's a good thing. But now many people say we need to learn more from the Western system, saying that only then can we live a better life. I don't quite understand—which path should we take?"

Slava looked at her. This issue was precisely the popular version of the most central debate in the entire Soviet Union at that moment.

He countered with a question: "Let me ask you first—do you feel that your current work environment, benefits, and labor protections are all in place? What do you think of those who say we should learn from the West?"

The female worker thought for a moment and said, "I can't say I'm completely satisfied. But I can clearly feel that everything is getting better—since the factory implemented the information technology and established the committee, we workers have known about the factory's accounts for the first time, been able to vote democratically on factory matters for the first time, and felt that our labor has been rewarded for the first time. To be honest, this is the first time in all my years of working that I have felt like the people are the masters of the country."

She paused for a moment, then frowned.

"But the newspapers don't say that, many scholars don't say that, and many young students don't say that either. They say that this isn't enough; they say we should be like the West, with a multi-party system and a free market."

I'm so confused—I clearly feel that things are getting better, so why do those learned people say we're on the wrong path?

Slava remained silent for a few seconds.

He finally spoke: "Yes, comrade, that's the problem."

Those who work feel that life is getting better, while those who don't work feel that everything should be rebuilt from scratch.

However, the direction of history is often not determined by the former.

On the morning of October 26, Slava held talks with the commander of the Far Eastern Military District and the secretary of the Khabarovsk Krai Party Committee.

Article 1: "Without deepening economic reforms, we are headed for a dead end."

The Soviet Union's economy had experienced a sustained slowdown over the past decade, with shortages of consumer goods, technological backwardness, and residents of its border regions traveling to China to buy things—these are facts that no amount of ideological debate can obscure. Reform was not an option; it was the only way for the country to survive.

The second point, and the most important one in this speech, was that he proposed a completely new standard for judging the direction of reform.

"Comrades, there is a debate within the Party now—should economic reform or political reform be given priority?"

I think this debate should stop. It's a false dichotomy; it wastes our energy on arguing about which to do first, while forgetting the very purpose of our reforms.

“I propose using three criteria to judge whether anything we do is right or wrong—I call it the ‘Three Benefits’.”

He held up three fingers.

"Whether it is conducive to developing productive forces and improving people's living standards; whether it is conducive to the people being masters of their own affairs and realizing genuine Soviet democracy; whether it is conducive to improving the country's comprehensive national strength."

"Whether you're implementing economic or political reforms, whether you're using planned or market mechanisms, and no matter how impressive your theories sound—measure them against these three criteria!"

Anything that benefits these three points is right, and anything that opposes them is wrong. This is far more useful than arguing about whether to prioritize the economy or politics.

A round of applause rang out in the auditorium. These three favorable criteria pragmatically bypassed the ideological debate that was tearing the Soviet leadership apart, drawing everyone's attention away from the ideological struggle and back to the debate on practical results.

The third point concerns information technology and the nature of systems like OGAS.

"Many comrades are worried that if we learn from Western science and technology and draw on American computer technology to develop OGAS, automated planning systems, and information technology, are we introducing 'capitalist stuff'?"

I want to make it clear that this concern is unnecessary because it misses a fundamental point: tools and systems are two different things!

Automated systems like OGAS are simply production tools, like tractors, electricity, or computers themselves. Socialism can use them, and capitalism can use them too!

A hammer can build a house in the hands of a worker, and injure someone in the hands of a robber; the hammer itself has no class attribute. The important thing is not whether we use this tool, but whether, when we use it, we can guarantee the public ownership of the means of production, the rights of the working people, and a fair distribution system!

As long as these three principles are upheld, no matter how advanced the technology or tools we use, we will not be able to change the nature of socialism.

"If you can't uphold these three principles, even if you smash all the computers, socialism will still degenerate!"

When he got to the fourth point, Slava's tone became stern.

"Fourth, I want to issue a clear warning here—the main danger we face in our reforms now comes not from the left, but from the right!"

It comes from those who, under the banner of reform, advocate wholesale Westernization; it comes from those who advocate abandoning public ownership, abandoning the leadership of the Party, and pursuing bourgeois liberalization; it comes from those capitalist roaders who want to lead socialist reforms toward capitalist restoration!

The auditorium fell silent. It took considerable courage to say these words at a time when the wave of public speaking was at its peak, as it directly contradicted the most fashionable political trends of the time.

"The Party's main task now is to guard against the right, against Western liberals, and against capitalist roaders," Slava said, emphasizing each word. "I, Ivanov, will make this clear—whoever dares to promote bourgeois liberalization will step down!"

"If they don't change their mindset, we'll replace them!"

Those present could tell that this was not a casual statement: moderate reformers would not sit idly by and watch the reforms be led toward complete Westernization; they would use organizational means to defend the socialist nature of the reforms.

The fifth point also served as the closing statement of the speech, as Slava said:

"I'll say this last thing. The Party's basic line must not be shaken until we achieve material abundance, the people's Soviet democracy, and fair distribution."

"Reform is to make socialism better, not to eliminate it! What we want is a more efficient, more democratic, and more equitable socialism, not capitalism disguised as socialism."

This route must not be deviated from even a step before we reach our goal!

Applause rang out in the auditorium.

Chapter 62 For the People, Let's Launch a Heavy Blow Against the Gobi Map! (1.2 words)

When Slava returned to Moscow from the Far East, the city was enveloped in unprecedented excitement and restlessness.

The wave of openness reached a new height in the last two months of 1986.

On November 20th, a film titled "Confession" premiered in Moscow. This political allegory, directed by a Georgian director, was completed in 1984 and had been banned for two years.

The film uses the image of a dictator (a composite of Hitler, Mussolini, Beria, and Stalin) to provide the first concrete critique of Stalinism in the history of Soviet cinema.

Yakovlev personally reviewed it and approved its public screening.

Now openness has truly gone from a slogan to practice, and the number of viewers reached seven million in the following year—an astronomical number for a Soviet art film, which usually only had a few hundred thousand to a million viewers!

The fact that seven million people went to the cinema to see a film criticizing Stalin speaks volumes about how emotions suppressed for decades were being directed toward a fatal outlet.

Slava, accompanied by the director, also went to see the film. He remained silent for a long time after leaving the theater.

He said, "The filming was alright; some of the points were correct, some were incorrect, but—"

"But what?"

"But when a society begins to collectively criticize its past, it is difficult for it to stop at some point."

Today we criticize Stalin, and tomorrow someone will ask—what about Lenin? What about the October Revolution? What about the legitimacy of the entire party?

I worry that "Confession" is not opening a door to openness, but rather a floodgate.

The CPSU has made far too many mistakes over the years. We must first repair the party's image and gain the people's satisfaction before the party can withstand the subsequent criticism. Some of those who engage in public discourse are truly overly idealistic.

“In most cases, pure idealists only have suicide as their way out,” Slava commented.

Director Nian held Slava's arm without saying a word.

She knew Slava was right; from her position in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, she could feel the water pressure building up behind the gate.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

But what stirred the nerves of the entire Soviet intellectual community even more than the film was something else—Sakharov.

The trigger for the incident was a death.

In the early hours of December 8, prominent dissident Anatoly Marchenko died in a prison in the Autonomous Republic of Tatarstan. He had been on a hunger strike for 12 days, demanding the release of all Soviet political prisoners.

Any leader with a sound mind would not agree to the unconditional release of all political prisoners!