Tuesday, October 30, 1962
Moscow, the Kremlin
“I think that you and I, with our heavy responsibilities for the maintenance of peace, were aware that developments were reaching a point where events could have become unmanageable … Mr. Chairman, both of our countries have great unfinished tasks and I know that your people as well as those of the United States can ask for nothing better than to pursue them free from the fear of war…”
“Do we respond to President Kennedy today, Premier?”
Khrushchev put down the paper, looked at his aide.
“Not yet. There is no urgency. We have reached an understanding. What remains is to carry it out. Is Marshal Malinovsky present?”
The aide made a short bow.
“I shall check with his office. I believe I saw the marshal a short time ago.”
His aide moved out, the door closing, and Khrushchev scanned Kennedy’s note again. He speaks of controlling nuclear weapons, he thought. As we have learned, there could be a time when there is no such thing.
There was a short rap on his office door, a familiar rhythm, and he called out, “Come in, Rodion.”
Malinovsky entered, no smile, moved to a chair, sat without speaking.
Khrushchev said, “One would detect that you are in a foul temper, my friend. This should be a day for rejoicing.”
Malinovsky looked at him.
“Rejoice what? The Soviet Union has been ultimately humiliated. And, as if that is not enough, Castro is refusing to allow UN inspectors onto Cuban soil. Thus, all inspections of our ships and their cargo will have to be done at sea, by the American navy. Now, I am hearing that you are being pressured to remove our IL-28 bombers from Cuban soil. Those planes were given to Castro as a gift. He is already growling about that, as he seems to growl about everything else.”
“I agreed to remove all weapons from Cuba that the Americans defined as offensive. In the end, what use could the IL-28s be, if not offensive? They are long-range bombers that serve little use unless you plan to send them off to attack across distant borders. That sounds fairly offensive to me. The Americans have threatened to destroy them on the ground if we do not comply. Such harshness was unexpected, especially with an agreement on the missiles in place, but if I were in Kennedy’s shoes, I would probably demand the same. Besides, the IL-28s are old and obsolete, and if he was thinking clearly, Castro would understand that he has no use for such a weapon, certainly not now. It is one more example of his need to hold on to anything that gives him power.” He paused. “We should have recognized that part of Castro’s character. It might have saved us some trouble.”
“But the bombers … Kennedy never before mentioned them specifically. If you now agree to remove them … well, Nikita, the Americans will crow like bantam roosters over that one.”
Khrushchev tossed Kennedy’s note aside.
“I do not believe there is crowing at all, Rodion, or if there is, it is kept tightly under wraps. Kennedy is no fool, no matter how I may have disregarded him in the past. He will not have his people, his military, parade their part in this negotiation as a great victory. They are doing nothing to jam our faces into humiliation. And for that reason, we will not take these events as a defeat. All of us, the Americans and the Soviets, have avoided a nuclear holocaust. There is victory aplenty in that.”
“Nikita, with victory comes joy. There is no joy here.”
Khrushchev was annoyed, but he knew to expect this.
“I will be blamed for our loss of prestige, for our loss of Cuba as a strategic military base. Castro is blaming me right now for every ill he can conjure up. I accepted Kennedy’s demands, though even he would not label them as such. But the Americans did what they had to do to avoid an enormous threat to their country. Would we not do the same?”
Malinovsky seemed surprised.
“Nikita, there are still missiles in Turkey staring at us across the Black Sea. You have taken the word of the Americans that those will be removed … eventually. Some would say … that is the height of blind optimism. You are trusting Kennedy, that their secret pledge, the pledge they insist we never mention … that they will honor that. You must admit … it was a foolish gambit to accept those terms.”
“I admit nothing of the kind. I accepted their pledge because I believe it to be genuine.” He was angry now. “Rodion, no one benefits from threats of nuclear war. No one benefits from staring into the abyss. The Americans have a greater number of intercontinental ballistic missiles than we do, but throwing that into our faces would not benefit them in any way, because our missiles, though fewer in number, are just as capable of destroying every inch of the United States. What we avoided, what I avoided, Rodion, was losing control. No matter how much effort is made, once a war begins, no one truly has control. Look at the U-2 we shot down. A ridiculous mistake, a lack of control. Our field commanders reacted to a situation that seemed to be escalating. Many of those same field commanders were equipped with nuclear artillery shells. What if the Americans had made a foolish landing on the Cuban coast, and one of our officers, some nameless colonel, took it upon himself to respond with such weapons? If a thousand Americans had died as a result, there would have been a hard response, yes? There were opportunities for deadly accidents, Rodion. If even a single ground-to-ground missile had been fired, we would not be having this conversation, nor would you have had this pleasant opportunity to scold me for my failings. If I am to be condemned for this so-called failure, let me ask you this: Would you prefer seeing Marshal Kochov in charge? Would we prefer it if Kennedy was not president, and instead, we had to negotiate directly with the generals of their Joint Chiefs, perhaps General LeMay?”
Malinovsky stared down for a long moment.
“I understand all that you say. I understand, because you are my friend. But there are others, members of the Presidium, of the military, who see what you gave the Americans as a defeat. Your prestige … and possibly your power … is damaged.”
Khrushchev sat back, could not be angry at his friend, could not be angry at the truth.
Wednesday, October 31, 1962
Gagra, Crimea, the Black Sea
He had left Moscow by plane, if only for a couple of days, an aching need to be away from scowling faces, from backroom cursing on his behalf. He walked now along the water with Nina, a long quiet stroll, the only sound the lapping of the surf on the rocky sand. He reached gently for her hand, still the quiet, and he turned to the water now, said, “You know, the scientists say the deepest waters here are anoxic. Nothing lives. It is why we occasionally find shipwrecks in such superb condition.”
She stopped walking, stared at him, laughed.
“You have been in the center of one of the most dangerous crises the world has ever known, and you think of shipwrecks?”
He shrugged.
“It’s why I come here. I can think about things that have nothing to do with governments or wars or Marshal Kochov. I do not concern myself here with legacies, whether Stalin’s or my own.”
She wasn’t smiling now, took his hand again, said, “I am concerned about your legacy. Because I know it matters to you. Your greatest hope, always, has been to leave this nation in a more prosperous way than you inherited it. I have always thought you would succeed.”
“Until now?”
She didn’t respond, and he felt a thick blanket of gloom settling over them both.
“Have I failed so badly? The Chinese are positively ecstatic over this, condemning us for our Cuban folly. Already they are sidling up close to Castro to cozy his favor. They too might learn the foolishness of that one day. But I must wonder, Nina. Has Cuba been my great mistake?”
“It’s not for me to say, Nikita.”
“You don’t have to say anything. The Kremlin is full of voices, all judging me. I cannot seem to make them understand that by agreeing to Kennedy’s conditions, I most likely prevented a war, a war like this world has never seen. Why do they condemn me for that?”
They took a few more steps in silence, then she said, “Pride, my darling. To some of those people, it is better to die with your head held high, than to accept peace by walking away.”
He sniffed.
“That’s all well and good in the nineteenth century. A man dies from a bullet to his heart. His comrades fight on. Today, that bullet is a missile, and it destroys a city. How do you educate generals to understand that firing your best weapon at your enemy is no longer sound strategy? It is madness. And, it is suicide.”
After a long pause, she said, “What will happen now, Nikita?”
“My hold on the Presidium will loosen. Some of the loud voices will grow louder still, and those who oppose my policies will be energized. And, in the end, if the voices become loud enough, they will remove me as Premier, as chairman of the Presidium.”
“Surely they will not.”
“Not right away. But those who seek opportunity will now believe they have one.” He laughed. “Somehow, I do not believe this is what Kennedy was hoping for. It’s a shame, really. He and I were just beginning to understand each other. Who knows, it’s possible we could have become friends.”