Beginning with the leadership succession after Brezhnev, first Andropov's spurt of new policy initiatives, then an interregnum of drift under Chernenko, and finally the emergence of the vigorous and relatively youthful leadership of Mikhail Gorbachev, the future of the Soviet political system has been thrust once again into wide public attention. It promises to remain there for some time, maybe several years, as the new General Secretary tries to push through major reforms and to engage the West to support him in his undertaking.

To keep our bearings in the flood of Gorbachev's novel rhetoric and its amplification through the Western media, it would be useful to put the issue into a context more historically grounded than the turmoil of current events and fashions. To do that, we need to ask at least two questions. First, what features of the Soviet historical legacy constrain and direct change in the USSR? Second, against this legacy, can we recognize the practical dilemmas any would-be reformer must face? In light of the answers, it is possible to reduce our surprise about the way the present reform efforts eventually turn out.

The Historical Legacy

It is commonplace to speak of continuities in Russian history, to observe that authoritarianism has deep roots in Russia and that much of the present Soviet system is a historical legacy. It is also commonplace to observe that autocratic systems in other parts of the world have evolved into liberal systems and that one should not rule out liberalization in the Soviet Union a priori simply because of its long tradition of authoritarianism.

Mikhail Gorbachev's program for the renovation of the Soviet political system is a reform of considerable magnitude. The sequencing of policies provides important information about the nature of the Soviet system and the dynamics of change, and in that sequence, communications policies shifted earliest and most radically. Virtually from the beginning of Gorbachev's tenure in power, an observer of Soviet politics could detect in the use of the media the operation of a key mechanism in effecting major change. Glasnost, the new openness and public discussion, is a media phenomenon. The new role accorded the media is in many ways a revolutionary one. The expanded functions of the media in the Gorbachev administration require them to precipitate institutional change in the Soviet political system. Mobilization will be temporary if there is insufficient structural change to support it, and the media system itself has become a principal factor in breaking down dysfunctional institutions inherited from previous regimes, strengthening weak institutions (such as the Soviets) and developing new types of institutions. As a consequence of this dynamic, systemic change in the media system precedes other large-scale change, and, in fact, before any major economic and political reforms of the Gorbachev administration were launched, extensive changes in the system of political communication had been made.

There are times when the issues we analyze as scholars suddenly become front-page news. This has happened to me with the increase of ethnic protests in the Soviet Union. Balts, Armenians, and others, are in the news daily and commentators are debating what their demands mean for the future of the Gorbachev program. What indeed?

I shall venture an analysis, but with a disclaimer that much is uncertain due to the fluidity of events and the continuing lack of comprehensive information from the Soviet political scene. Part of what I say may be dated by the time this is printed.

Gorbachev has called the nationalities problem “the most fundamental, vital issue of our society.” Even though the multiethnic dimension of Soviet politics has now become more apparent, it has always been there. Non-Russians make up half of the Soviet population and most live in their traditional homelands currently constituting federal subunits of the “Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.” It is quite natural that their political role becomes more prominent in the course of a program emphasizing democratization; it is also natural that their views can differ from those of the center (Rothschild, 1981). Those commentators who depict the nationalities as spoilers endangering Gorbachev's reforms seem to think that democratization is possible without the participation of all segments of society.

Events in the non-Russian republics of the USSR can be properly analyzed only within the context of political change at the center of power in Moscow.

New thinking (novoye myshleniye) is the foreign policy component of Gorbachev's systemic reforms, which include the more familiar perestroika (restructuring) and glasnost (openness). These three elements of reform are integral and mutually supportive: new thinking in foreign policy contributes to the restructuring of the Soviet economy, and domestic economic reform and political openness influence the implementation and direction of Soviet foreign policy. Therefore, new thinking in foreign policy must be understood in the larger context of Mikhail Gorbachev's vision of the Soviet future, rather than merely as a revision of certain aspects of Soviet international behavior.

As with perestroika and glasnost, Gorbachev has had a difficult time translating “new thinking” into new policy. Internal political resistance, systemic inertia, and ideological obstacles have hampered the implementation of all Gorbachev's reforms, but the implementation of “new thinking” in foreign policy has encountered the additional obstacle of a skeptical international audience that must be convinced by Soviet deeds that new thinking is more than declaratory policy. The problem for Gorbachev is that he must simultaneously convince the world that his new thinking is, in fact, “new,” and his comrades that new thinking is consistent with the fundamental principles of Marxism-Leninism.

After four years in power, Gorbachev is beginning to face the ideological, political, and economic inconsistencies and contradictions of perestroika, glasnost, and new thinking. It is now clear, for example, that perestroika of the economy will not result from bureaucratic restructuring but must include a fundamental change in the role of the market in pricing, allocation, and production decisions.

The patterns of international power established in 1945, which pitted the United States and the Soviet Union against one another in a global competition for power and influence, seem to be dissolving. Though the two countries are still the dominant military powers, they no longer dominate the international landscape as they did only a few years ago. As occurred in the United States more than a decade ago, the Soviet leadership has begun to recognize the objective limitations placed on its ability to control global events (Izyumov and Kortunov, 1988). Evidence of this can be seen in developments in Soviet policy on arms reductions, the Soviet withdrawal of troops from Afghanistan, the encouragement given client states to resolve conflicts in Cambodia and Angola, and the apparent permitting (even encouraging) of greater autonomy among subject nationalities in Eastern Europe and the USSR itself.

Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev explains this policy shift in terms of “new political thinking” that recognizes the realities of global interdependence and the potentially disastrous implications for the human race of global problems such as nuclear warfare or growing ecological damage (Gorbachev, 1986a, pp. 18–19, 55, 64). Gorbachev and other Soviet political leaders have relegated class warfare, the key concept in Marxist socialism for more than a century, to a secondary position as a determinant of Soviet foreign policy (Zagladin, 1988; Plimak, 1987). More important, they argue, is overcoming the threat to human existence posed by global problems.

Absolute systems are strong as long as they are absolute. When they begin to reform, they are lost. Yet they cannot avoid reform, or they will explode.

Milovan Djilas

It is easy to make a strong case for economic and political reforms in Eastern Europe. First, this is what Mikhail Gorbachev wants, and what a Soviet leader wants carries special weight in the bloc. Second, it is clear that socialist economics does not work, especially in Eastern Europe. It is not just that four of these states—Romania, Poland, Hungary and Yugoslavia—have suffered an actual decline in their standard of living since 1980; it is also that there has been a longterm decline throughout the region in capital and labor productivity. Finally, the political future of the region is mortgaged as well. Many of these parties, most notably in Hungary, Poland and Yugoslavia, can be termed mere shadows of their former Leninist selves. What is a communist party, after all, if it cannot manage the economy, agree on policies or control the public?

If the pressures for reform are great, however, so are the pressures against reform, and for many of the same reasons. Faltering economies, divided parties, nervous privileged interests and angry, impatient publics are hardly the stuff out of which a reform coalition can be cobbled. This is the lesson of Poland from 1956 to the present (Bunce, 1989b). Second, even if such a coalition could somehow be constructed, there is no guarantee that reforms would solve the problems of socialism. Indeed, they could make matters worse.

I am the first passenger of LAN flight #145 from Miami to Santiago to go through immigration. My brother Andrés is waiting for me in his car just outside the terminal. Two carabineros berate him for illegal parking. I try to argue with them, but Andrés quietly tells me to shut up. “It will be all over by Wednesday,” he tells me, as he hands over his driver's license to the stern officers in green uniforms. They let him go with a warning, and we're off to the new highway that links the airport with Santiago's Barrio Alto. It is one of a number of public works inaugurated in the past few months in a frantic effort to bolster support for the government in the upcoming October 5 plebiscite.

At my brother's home I unpack, and we quickly sit down to look at the tapes of the franja publicitaria, the 15-minute TV programs for the “Yes” and “No” options aired since September 5. They have provided the opposition access to television for the first time in 15 years. Despite the absurd time slot allocated to it (10:45 to 11:15 p.m.), the franja has commanded huge audiences. Between 80 and 90% of all Chileans in urban areas have seen it; about a third watch it every day and another third occasionally. Andres believes the opposition is in good shape for the plebiscite, but he is worried about the negative impact of Volodia Toitelboim's statement.

A simulation is a working model of a system. Simulations are useful when interaction with real systems is not possible (e.g., giving students a chance to be president) or when mathematical models cannot be solved but only approximated.

One of the many ways that simulations may be described or categorized is in terms of how they may be utilized (such as teaching or research). Another important distinction, completely independent of the first, is whether a simulation is interactive or noninteractive. An interactive simulation involves a set of transactions or turns between or among participants and a computer. The operation of a noninteractive simulation generally involves the setting of values for variables after which the simulation is begun and operates on its own with no user intervention. Simulations may also be distinguished by whether they are based on theory and include little data (e.g., prisoner's dilemma) or whether they are based primarily on empirical data supported more or less rigorously by a theory. They may also be characterized in terms of technical concerns such as whether they model continuous or discrete change.