Soviet Union Why the Bear's Cupboards Are Bare

Nearly four years ago, Mikhail Gorbachev pledged that the payoff for perestroika (economic restructuring) would be an increase in the quality and availability of consumer goods. So far, to the profound distress of Gorbachev's supporters and the growing impatience of Soviet citizenry, precisely the opposite has taken place. The arrival of the new year, traditionally a time of gift giving and feasting in the Soviet Union, served only to highlight the burgeoning list of products that are hard to find, rationed or simply unavailable. Even Gorbachev sounded dispirited over what has turned into the most severe consumer crisis in recent memory. "Perestroika gave rise to great expectations in society," he noted in his New Year's message. "But changes are not coming as fast as we would all like them to."

That assessment, if anything, understates the level of disillusionment. Soviet products that have often been in short supply, like meat and butter, are scarcer than ever this year. In the Russian Republic, the Soviet region that is home to about half the country's population, meat available at state stores is so scarce that 1 out of every 3 consumers obtains a ration card to ensure a supply. Now, however, everyday items like good shoes and toilet paper are also missing from the shelves. Shoppers in Moscow are queuing for laundry detergent, and last week the capital was virtually bereft of gasoline.

Nor do the shortages seem to lend themselves to quick solutions. When sugar suddenly grew scarce 18 months ago, most consumers blamed Gorbachev's antialcoholism drive, which diverted substantial quantities of the commodity into home brewing. Authorities have somewhat relaxed their original strictures on liquor production, but sugar is still rationed in 67 of the Russian Republic's 86 administrative districts. Other goods that are frequently hard to find: good cheese, coffee, chocolate, fresh fruit and bath towels. "Fruit and vegetables have always been scarce in the Russian winter," said a gray- haired man shopping on Moscow's Kutuzovsky Prospekt. "But it's worse than ever this year."

"The planners of perestroika are baffled," says Marshall Shulman, professor emeritus of Russian studies at Columbia University. "They don't know how to proceed because they found the economic situation far worse than their worst expectations. They are searching for new ways, but without luck so far." Price reform, perhaps the key element in perestroika's ultimate success, has been postponed until at least 1990.

Glasnost has made the shortages seem even more acute. Soviet publications have lately devoted page after page to the plague of consumer shortages, documenting their intensity in editorial columns and letting readers vent their rage in letters sections. "Shortages attack us literally from all sides," complained the daily Vechernyaya Moskva. "It seems that soon it will be difficult to name an item that doesn't fall into a shortage category."