The View from the Guesthouse

By John Kohan/Beijing

The sight was enough to give a Soviet advanceman heartburn. There, in the Great Hall of the People, was a long table set up with microphones and teacups. The rows of chairs were filled with hundreds of journalists, all of whom had to dodge banner-waving marchers, speeding ambulances and mazes of bicycles in Tiananmen Square to make what was supposed to be a 5:45 p.m. press conference by Mikhail Gorbachev. Then, just at showtime, came the news: the session was being moved five miles away to the state guesthouse where Gorbachev was staying in the Diaoyutai compound.

For the fifth -- and by no means final -- time last week, the Gorbachev schedule was changed to keep as much distance as possible between the guest and the million Chinese cheering his policies of openness and democratization. When the relaxed and smiling Soviet leader finally made his appearance at 7:30 p.m., he was asked about the demonstrations paralyzing the Chinese capital. "I've seen the students," said a bemused Gorbachev. "But perhaps not as many as you have."

What began for Gorbachev as a diplomatic mission aimed at normalizing relations with the People's Republic of China quickly evolved into a diplomatic mission of another sort: how to pretend your hosts are not trying to put down a revolution at the same time they're teaching you how to use chopsticks. This scenario, alas, was not covered in the slim white protocol books given to the Soviet entourage and the 80 or so reporters who accompanied Gorbachev from Moscow. What the book did cover often proved useless. Gorbachev did not "arrive by car" at Tiananmen Square nor, accompanied by two soldiers of the Chinese honor guard, did "the distinguished guest" lay a wreath at the Monument to the People's Heroes. And what about that passage on proper behavior at the Beijing Opera? Mikhail and Raisa never enjoyed a night out.

The Soviet delegation was careful not to do or say anything in public that might offend the Chinese. When a briefing by Soviet cultural luminaries was dominated by questions about the student demonstrations, the director of the Soviet press center at the Beijing International Hotel finally blew up. "You are putting us in a difficult position," he snapped. "Ask questions about our country." Foreign Ministry press spokesman Gennadi Gerasimov resorted to irony when queried about the wreath-laying ceremony. "We are guests and never argue with our hosts," he replied. "We recognize that it would be physically impossible to carry out this part of the program. But it is a matter for the Chinese."

Even Soviet journalists proved to be diplomats at heart. Despite persistent questions about Gorbachev's reaction to the protests, a Soviet correspondent evaded the topic and kept insisting that the real story was the renewed friendship between two great countries. In private, however, Gorbachev could not control his curiosity. Late Monday evening he summoned Soviet journalists to his country's embassy and peppered them with questions about what was happening in the streets.

TV viewers back in the U.S.S.R. saw footage of the protesters only on the day their leader left China, and even then the events were presented as two completely different stories. During Gorbachev's stay, Soviet television had blacked out the demonstrations. However, within minutes after Gorbachev boarded the plane in Shanghai and headed home, TASS carried its first detailed story on the crisis. What the Soviet press has yet to report, of course, is what Gorbachev, Foreign Minister Eduard Shevardnadze and the other members of the Soviet diplomatic team really thought about their extraordinary visit. Quipped a Soviet journalist: "We will never really know the true story until Shevardnadze retires and writes his memoirs."