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Brezhnev has appeal for the ordinary citizen. Russia's old imperial regime is long dead, but Russians still like a leader who displays power and can make a show. When he first assumed power, Brezhnev was underestimated, dismissed as a faceless bureaucrat. Later it became clear that this was a mistake. He proved to be an outgoing politician, a strong leader and, for all his preaching of frugality, a man who likes pomp and the good things in life. His passion for expensive foreign cars, yachts and luxurious surroundings is well known, and in his beautifully cut dark suits and fine shirts he is one of the best-dressed men in Russia.
He was wearing one of those elegant dark suits when the door to his imposing Kremlin office was opened for the visitors from TIME: Corporate Editor Henry Grunwald, Managing Editor Ray Cave, Chief of Correspondents Richard Duncan, Moscow Bureau Chief Bruce Nelan and Moscow Reporter Felix Rosenthal. Brezhnev stood in the center of the room to greet them and solemnly shook hands, establishing glinting blue eye contact as each of his guests was introduced. His medals—Orders of Lenin, Hero of the Soviet Union, Hero of Socialist Labor—shone in the bright lights as Soviet television cameras whirred.
He walked slowly to one side of a long green-baize-covered conference table, accompanied by Leonid Zamyatin, chief of the Central Committee's information department. The TIME delegation sat down opposite them. Though the room is large, it is rather bare. On the off-white silk walls hang two portraits, Karl Marx and Vladimir Lenin. In one corner stands Brezhnev's working desk with its three white phones and large pushbutton console with direct lines to senior officials. At the far end are curtained double doors that lead to the study-bedroom where he takes meals and naps. Brezhnev is known as a clean-desk man; there was little on the desktop except a calendar and clock.
It is true that Brezhnev does not look well. His face was flushed, his eyelids red, his mouth and jaw contorted. He moved slowly and wrote painstakingly as he inscribed one of his autobiographical books as a gift. It seemed to take a long time before he looked up through his famous eyebrows, over his rimless reading glasses and said: "There, I've settled my accounts." He was wearing a hearing aid in his left ear, and his interpreter addressed him in a slightly raised voice.
Brezhnev replied to both written and oral questions. No matter how often one might have listened to his voice on Soviet television, it is still almost painful to hear at close quarters how slurred and labored his speech can be. But as the discussion continued, Brezhnev seemed to warm to the task; his words came more quickly and clearly, his gestures sharpened, his eyes flashed. There was plainly nothing slow about his thought processes, and the aura of command around him was almost tangible.