Sunk by Star Wars

It had the potential, or so it seemed for a while, of producing the most sweeping arms control agreement in the history of the nuclear age. The most dramatic proposal was to slash in half the long-range nuclear missiles in the arsenals of the superpowers and eventually eliminate them altogether. Until a half-hour before the meeting broke up on Sunday evening, virtually all the pieces seemed to be in place. Yet in the end, the Iceland summit broke down over a single word: laboratory.

After two intensive days of bargaining, Mikhail Gorbachev would not relent in his insistence that Ronald Reagan's cherished Strategic Defense Initiative, designed to serve as a space-based shield against ballistic missiles, be confined to "laboratory research." And Reagan was equally adamant that the U.S. retain the right not only to conduct scientific research on new Star Wars weapons but to develop and test them as well.

The first indication that the hastily called meeting in Reykjavik would be more than merely a modest presummit planning session came right at the start. President Reagan and Soviet General Secretary Gorbachev had ceremonially shaken hands, posed for photographers and then sat down to business, alone except for interpreters and notetakers. Reagan assumed their opening discussion would be a general one, each man outlining his broad vision of ways to manage the superpower rivalry. But after the President suggested they move from their armchairs to a rectangular wooden table, the Soviet leader pulled a detailed set of notes out of his briefcase. Then he proceeded to read. What he had brought with him, it turned out, was a series of sweeping new Soviet proposals on the whole gamut of arms-control issues: medium-range missiles, long-range strategic weapons, space defenses--the works.

As soon as the morning session ended, Secretary of State George Shultz hurriedly summoned five top American officials into "the bubble," a tiny secure room at the U.S. embassy in Reykjavik, to consider a reply. A brief session in the bubble with his advisers, followed by more discussions over a lunch of baked chicken, produced a revised set of talking points for the President to read at his afternoon session, ones that took into account Gorbachev's morning proposals and dwelt on the areas of potential agreement.

The sessions were supposed to end on Sunday morning, but with the chance of an agreement of historic proportions in sight, the two sides met on into the evening. It was only after sunset that the optimism began to unravel. To the Soviets, every element of the deal, it seemed, hinged on the curtailment of Star Wars. When that proved impossible, there was nothing left to do but offer grim handshakes and go home. The original purpose of the meeting--to set a date for a full-scale summit in the U.S. and work out a frame work for an agreement on medium-range missiles that could serve as its centerpiece--was lost in the dust. No deal, no date, no plans for future summits.