(10 of 20)
In the West, there has been a view that Khrushchev undertook the Cuban operation at the instigation of the military. This is incorrect. Khrushchev imposed an arbitrary decision on the political and military leaders. They were not interested in "quick fixes" and surrogate nuclear missile capability. They wanted solid, long-range programs to achieve parity with the U.S. in both quantity and quality of strategic nuclear weaponry and later to pursue superiority. That would take time and would involve astronomical expense, but there was no risk. But such expenditures would inevitably undermine Khrushchev's plans to aid the consumer. Khrushchev had unrealistically committed himself with widely touted promises "to catch up with and surpass America" by 1970 in overall production. He wanted guns and butter, or a modest amount of butter anyway.
Once the Cuban missile crisis developed, in October 1962, Khrushchev had only two options: nuclear war, for which the U.S. was much better prepared; or a war limited to the area, also advantageous to the U.S. Given the American geographical position and strength in the area, the Soviets would find it costly to penetrate the blockade imposed by Kennedy or defend their ships. Vladimir Buzykin, head of the Latin American Department of the Foreign Ministry, told me that there was no contingency plan in the event the Cuban operation failed. By establishing the quarantine, Kennedy had presented Khrushchev with a fait accompli instead of the other way around.
As a result of the missile crisis, military arguments prevailed: the Soviet Union opted for numbers and quality of strategic nuclear weapons. In ensuing years, whenever opposition to the idea was voiced, someone would be sure to say, "Remember Cuba?" I recall a usually calm Deputy Foreign Minister Vasily Kuznetsov declaring emotionally that in the future we would "never tolerate such humiliation as we suffered in the missile crisis." Khrushchev had to forget butter.
SUDDEN CHANGES AT THE TOP
In the summer of 1963 I joined the Soviet mission to the U.N. Ambassador Nikolai Fedorenko, head of the mission, was an elegant man and a lenient boss whose consuming interest in foreign affairs lay in China. He was a true expert, a member of the Academy of Sciences. As time went on, he delegated more and more responsibility to others and retreated into scholarly pursuits. This earned him Gromyko's distrust.
To Gromyko, there could be no greater sin than a casual approach to one's duties. His reputation had earned him the nickname Grom, the Russian word for thunder. One victim of his thunderbolts was Rolland Timerbayev, a senior political officer in the U.N. mission, who had the thankless task of supervising the mission's move from Park Avenue to East 67th Street. When Gromyko was shown the completed work that autumn, he spent more than half an hour stuck between floors in a faulty elevator. Finally freed, he decided that Timerbayev should have a new career. "Let him sit at the reception desk and keep an eye on the elevator to make sure it's working." The poor man occupied his new post for the rest of Gromyko's stay.