Thomas Watson: A Capitalist for Disarmament

When Thomas J. Watson Jr. returned from Moscow in January after a year as ambassador to the Soviet Union, he wrote, "The leaders of the Soviet Union have both the will and the means to match any arms build-up we make. All we will accomplish is to throw good money after bad and to heighten the dangers of an accidental nuclear exchange. Like it or not, we have to acknowledge that the Soviet Union will not accept second-class status."

But he continued, "On the other hand, neither should we accept second-class status." He went on to outline a "carefully considered program" for facing the Soviet challenge: an increase in conventional arms, universal military service, reduced government spending, and a foreign policy that would "allow us to stand up to the Soviet Union when our national interests are at stake." It's not an easy philosophy to classify; as one Harvard foreign policy specialist said recently, "Campaign-for-nuclear-disarmament types will agree with half of what he says and Reaganauts will agree with the other half." But it reflects the curious combination of roles Watson has taken on during his career: on the one hand, an ardent proponent of nuclear disarmament and on the other, a man Fortune Magazine called "the most successful capitalist who ever lived."

President Carter's appointment of Watson as ambassador to the Soviet Union in 1979 marked the first time in 27 years that a career diplomat was not sent to Moscow. Watson was best known for his spectacular tenure as president and chairman of the board of IBM, during which he pioneered the company's trend-setting manufacture and distribution of computers. When he stepped down as chairman of the corporation in 1974, following a heart attack, Watson had turned IBM into what Business Week called "perhaps the most efficient and responsive manufacturing and marketing operation in business history," and raised its annual revenues 22.5 times over the level it was when he took control of the company from his father.

But was he qualified to serve in America's most sensitive diplomatic post? His knowledge of Russian was slim, and his experience in the country was limited to five months in World War II flying lease planes from Moscow to Alaska. An editorial in the New York Times following Watson's appointment noted that it would serve as a discouragement to foreign service officers who have devoted their careers to Communist affairs but added, "Mr. Watson's service at this stage can prove useful...He has impressed Washington officials with the forceful use of (his access to President Carter) while serving as head of the general advisory committee to the President on arms control. The respect that Mr. Watson enjoys among businessmen should help the cause of ratification of the SALT II treaty. It will also impress the Russians, who want to help in building their trade with the United States."

"It was a strange appointment," says Marshall Goldman, associate director of the Russian Research Center. "As it turned out, it was a good appointment. The Soviets wanted to get close to Jimmy Carter and in their mind the business community had contact with Carter. And Watson was with the most important corporation in the United States."

Mark J. Garrison, who was the number-two official in the Russian embassy both before and during Watson's post, recalls. "I was disappointed that the career service was not able to put forward a strong candidate to be ambassador. But the president chose someone with the prominence and knowledge of the strategic situation the post demanded."

Watson had been in Moscow for three months when Soviet troops moved into Afghanistan. In response, in January 1980, Carter summoned Watson back to the United States, a move officially called "a return for consultations," but publicly described by White House officials as "a diplomatic act of retaliation." In similar situations in the past--Hungary in 1956 and Czechoslovakia in 1968--the U.S. ambassador had remained in Moscow, Some, including the unidentified State Department officials, saw Watson's recall as indication that he had "no special background in foreign affairs" and "no particular access to Soviet leadership." "Is Watson the Right Man?" asked an article in Newsweek in February. "As many people now see it, what the embassy now needs is a hard-nosed professional diplomat who can deal with a new kind of cold war."

But today, some specialists in Russian affairs do not fault Watson for what they agree was his low profile as ambassador, explaining that the post is traditionally not an influential one.

"It was a difficult year," says Adam B. Ulam, Gurney Professor of History and Political Science and director of the Russian Research Center. "But then the ambassador to Russia cannot usually do much anyway," he adds.

Also noting the difficult circumstances of Watson's tenure. Abram Bergson, Baker Professor of Economics, says, "I don't have a sense of any sharp involvement which would make him stand out from the country's general pursuit at that time. But maybe there was something going on behind the scenes."

One source in the Carter administration said in a recent interview that Watson's influence at the White House during the Afghanistan incident may have been greater than reports at the time indicated. "He recommended most of the measures the president took after the intervention into Afghanistan," says the official, who asked not to be identified. These measures included the boycott of the Olympic Games in Moscow, a grain embargo, and restrictions on exports of high technology.

"There's no way of knowing whether other people in Washington were thinking along the same lines or whether Watson thought these measures up," the official said, adding, "But as far as I know, the ideas were cooked up at the Russian embassy and the president carried them out."

He adds that the position of ambassador to Russia is "certainly not a social post," saying, "nobody goes there for the fun of it--it's not like London, Paris or Rome. The ambassador makes his recommendations on what U.S. policy ought to be."

Two weeks ago, Watson visited the Kennedy School of Government for an informal lunch with several Harvard specialists in Soviet affairs and international security. As professors who were in attendance recall, his remarks at the lunch were variations on a theme that has run through Watson's entire career--even before his duty in Moscow--and one that will probably show up in his commencement speech this afternoon.

"His basic premise is this," says Albert Carnesale, a professor of Public Policy at the K-School. "If the two superpowers continue to do business in the nuclear power regime, eventually they're going to blow up the world. As he sees it, we need some recognition of the instability and futility of the arms race; if it fails, it's likely to fail catastrophically. And ultimately it's likely to fail," Watson refused last week to discuss his views on the arms race, but in a 1970 speech to the Bond Club in New York City he had this to say: "It's a happy, comfortable thought to believe that we can indeed make ourselves relatively safe and the Soviet Union relatively unsafe with anti-missile missiles and so forth. But think a little deeper. Our efforts might leave 50 million survivors here at home instead of 25 when the holocaust is over, while we kill two-thirds of the Russians instead of only half. This, to me, is only half thinking."

And one final Watson speech is particularly revealing--a 1974 commencement address at Lafayette College in Easton, Pennsylvania. Recalling his own commencement at Brown University in 1937, he told the graduating seniors: "Strangely enough, the one thing about that day that I cannot remember is what the commencement speaker had to say. My thoughts, like yours, were targeted upon my family and my friends and my plans for the summer. But of one thing I'm sure: If the speaker made a short speech, I know I blessed him."