Soviet Union Look Who's Feeling Picked On

By GEORGE J. CHURCH

Russians suffering discrimination in the Soviet Union? It sounds about as likely as the English becoming second-class citizens in parts of Great Britain. But that is how many of the 30 million Russians feel who live in the U.S.S.R.'s restive "ethnic republics" like Moldavia, the Ukraine and the Baltic states of Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia. In the throes of a quest for their own independence, nationalists in those areas are denouncing the Russians living among them as "occupiers" and "migrants." They are enacting voting laws that disenfranchise many Russians and are forcing them to learn the local languages or lose their jobs.

Russians often see this as an attempt to kick them out of the homes they have inhabited for generations. So they have been hitting back with strikes that, if they persist, could wreck the economies of some republics. And in Moscow, Communist conservatives have seized on the Russians' plight to justify a crackdown on the nationalist movements. News reports in the capital deliver a crude subtext: ethnic Russians are the victims of nationalist extremists. Politburo members like Victor Chebrikov, former KGB chief, thunder that those whipping up ethnic strife "should not go unpunished, no matter what flags they raise and what brightly colored national costumes they wear."

Mikhail Gorbachev needs this ruckus about as much as Custer needed more Indians. The Soviet President is already trying to cope with a sour national mood that is turning bitter amid steadily worsening shortages of meat, sugar, butter, salt, matches, soap and even warm winter clothing. Now tea, a beverage the Soviets consume in vast quantities, has suddenly disappeared from store shelves. Said a woman standing in line for lemons in Moscow: "They talk about the years of stagnation ((Gorbachev's term for the Brezhnev era)), but at least while we stagnated we ate."

In a country where problems are endemic, things seem to be spiraling out of control, and the possibility that Gorbachev's great experiment could collapse has gained currency. Rumors of coups or impending civil war have circulated so widely that Gorbachev felt obliged to denounce them in a TV speech early this month, accusing both left and right of spreading false alarms. The Communist Party Central Committee is scheduled to meet this week to discuss the nationalities crisis; Gorbachev reportedly will seek its backing to fire more of his critics from the Politburo.

But cooling the country's ethnic strife will take more than a few dismissals. How does Moscow satisfy the growing hunger for self-rule in the republics without aggrieving the large numbers of local Russians? In Estonia, where Russians and other minorities comprise 40% of the 1.7 million population, the Russians complain that personal snubs abound. Alexander Yashugin, a decorated World War II veteran who lives in a suburb of Tallinn, said an Estonian shopkeeper refused to let him register to buy a TV set, and would not even put him on a waiting list. "On the front, they didn't discriminate between Balt and Russian," he said.

A new electoral law, Russians protest, will exclude 80,000 to 100,000 of them from voting in Estonia's first competitive elections in December. Another law makes it necessary for all people to speak Estonian (as different from Russian as Hungarian is from English) to get a job. Though Russians have four years to comply, they protest angrily that there are not enough teachers or textbooks available for all of them to learn.

Last month 35,000 to 40,000 Russians went on strike to protest those laws. Though the walkouts have been suspended, strike leaders still meet three times a week to prepare for a possible resumption. "The strikes are a strong influence on the government to revise the laws," said factory worker Vladimir Shorikin. Igor Shepelevich, director of a computer-chip plant, explained that new strikes could pretty well close down Estonia. "The republic's railroads, airports, seaports and power systems are all run by Russians," he pointed out. In Moldavia recent strikes by Russians left tomatoes rotting in fields and railroad cars standing empty at stations, worsening the Soviet Union's food shortages.

Estonian nationalists contend that Russians are exaggerating their plight and playing into the hands of Gorbachev's opponents. "It comes down to the question of who is for perestroika and who is against it," said Rein Kaarapere, an economist with the republic's Council of Ministers. He may have a point. Early this month delegates from Intermovement, which claims to represent 100,000 Russians in Estonia, joined members of similar groups across the country to found the United Front of Workers of Russia. The front is dedicated to battling nationalist movements, but it also expressed opposition to Gorbachev's plans to introduce more private enterprise.

Gorbachev had once hoped to make the Baltic states a showcase for perestroika. But he now faces a painful dilemma. If he allows the nationalist movements to run unchecked, he risks worsening ethnic tensions on top of all the Soviet Union's other problems. But if he cracks down, he will hearten the enemies, who are already making rich political capital out of the discrimination against Russians. The Soviet leader met with Baltic party and government officials last week to seek some compromise of their demands. This week's oft-postponed plenum may show if he has found a way to calm the potentially explosive ethnic hostilities threatening to shake his rule.

With reporting by Ann Blackman/Tallinn