Russia: An Edgy Anniversary

The occasion was certainly right for a party, and the trappings were all that anyone would wish: the sweep of Red Square, an entertainment cast of thousands, the backdrop of the Kremlin and, later, the elegant Palace of Congresses as a banquet hall for 2,000 guests. But the hosts seemed downright edgy, as if expecting one of the guests to swing from a chandelier or pour champagne on someone's head. Indeed, some of the partygoers at last week's celebration of the Soviet Union's 50th anniversary figuratively jangled a few chandeliers and threw a goodly amount of cold water, if not champagne, over the proceedings.

Lessons from Tito. Touring a Soviet factory, President Josip Broz Tito shocked the Russians accompanying him by extolling progress in Yugoslavia instead of Russia and boasting about "a new phase" of socialism in his country. Rumanian Party Boss Nicolae Ceausescu stayed around in Moscow just long enough to make the point to all who would listen that "Rumanians are masters in their own house"—meaning that they like their new independence from Moscow. Fidel Castro had snubbed the Kremlin by sending Public Health Minister Dr. José Ramón Machado in his place; when the peeved Russians would not let Machado speak before the Central Committee like the representatives of other Communist states, he departed for home in a huff two days early.

The Chinese did not come at all, but they were not silent for the occasion. The New China News Agency denounced the Soviet leaders as "something filthy and contemptible—like a dog's dirt," and Defense Minister Lin Piao accused them of bringing about "an all-round capitalist restoration in the Soviet Union." Then, even as glasses clinked in the Kremlin, both the Chinese and the Albanians called upon the Russians to overthrow the "renegade revisionist clique" in Moscow. With comrades such as these, the Soviet leaders were probably grateful when a cordial message arrived from Lyndon Johnson, offering "heartfelt greetings and best wishes."

Tweeds & Transistors. As for the Russian people, they savored their longest holiday ever from the rigors of socialist labor: four days. They attended dinners in restaurants and homes and shopped for luxuries especially imported for the occasion, including British tweeds, Italian shoes and Japanese transistor radios. In Moscow, they rose early to find a crisp, sunny autumn day for the anniversary, were soon milling in Red Square wearing their holiday best. Everywhere in the parks and squares, Muscovites danced and sang. At night, as celebrators floated down the Moscow River in barges, searchlights illuminated a giant balloon bearing a portrait of Lenin in the skies above. About 6,500 couples took advantage of the holiday to get married (the normal nuptial rate for Moscow: 300 a day).