Foreign Relations of the United States, 1981–1988, Volume I, Foundations of Foreign Policy

232. Address by Secretary of State Shultz ¹

San Francisco, February 22, 1985

America and the Struggle for Freedom

A revolution is sweeping the world today—a democratic revolution. This should not be a surprise. Yet it is noteworthy because many people in the West lost faith, for a time, in the relevance of the idea of democracy. It was fashionable in some quarters to argue that democracy was culture bound; that it was a luxury only industrial societies could afford; that other institutional structures were needed to meet the challenges of development; that to try to encourage others to adopt our system was ethnocentric and arrogant.

In fact, what began in the United States of America over two centuries ago as a bold new experiment in representative government has today captured the imagination and the passions of peoples on every continent. The Solidarity movement in Poland; resistance forces in Afghanistan, in Cambodia, in Nicaragua, in Ethiopia and Angola; dissidents in the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe; advocates of peaceful democratic change in South Africa, Chile, the Republic of Korea, and the Philippines—all these brave men and women have something in common: they seek independence, freedom, and human rights—ideals which are at the core of democracy and which the United States has always championed.²

The American Tradition

All Americans can be proud that the example of our Founding Fathers has helped to inspire millions around the globe. Throughout our own history, we have always believed that freedom is the birthright of all peoples and that we could not be true to ourselves or our principles unless we stood for freedom and democracy not only for ourselves but for others.

And so, time and again in the last 200 years, we have lent our support—moral and otherwise—to those around the world struggling for freedom and independence. In the 19th century Americans smuggled guns and powder to Simon Bolivar, the Great Liberator; we supported the Polish patriots and others seeking freedom. We well remembered how other nations, like France, had come to our aid during our own revolution.

In the 20th century, as our power as a nation increased, we accepted a greater role in protecting and promoting freedom and democracy around the world. Our commitment to these ideals has been strong and bipartisan in both word and deed. During World War I, the Polish pianist Paderewski and the Czech statesman Masaryk raised funds in the United States; then Woodrow Wilson led the way at war’s end in achieving the independence of Poland, Czechoslovakia, and other states.

At the height of World War II, Franklin Roosevelt set forth a vision of democracy for the postwar world in the Atlantic Charter and Four Freedoms. The United States actively promoted decolonization. Harry Truman worked hard and successfully at protecting democratic institutions in postwar Western Europe and at helping democracy take root in West Germany and Japan. At the United Nations in 1948 we supported the Universal Declaration of Human Rights³—which declares the right of every nation to a free press, free assembly and association, periodic and genuine elections, and free trade unions. John F. Kennedy drew upon the very essence of America with his call to “pay any price . . . to assure the survival and success of liberty.”⁴

The March of Democracy

The struggle for liberty is not always successful. But those who once despaired, who saw democracy on the decline, and who argued that we must lower our expectations were, at best, premature. Civilizations decline when they stop believing in themselves; ours has thrived because we have never lost our conviction that our values are worth defending.

When Indira Gandhi, the Prime Minister of the world’s largest democracy, was assassinated, we were shocked and saddened.⁵ But our confidence in the resilience of democracy was renewed as millions of India’s people went to the polls freely to elect her successor. As Rajiv Gandhi leads his nation to new greatness, he demonstrates more clearly than any words or abstract scientific models that democracy is neither outmoded nor is it the exclusive possession of a few, rich, Western nations. It has worked for decades in countries as diverse as Costa Rica and Japan.

In the Western Hemisphere, over 90% of the population of Latin America and the Caribbean today live under governments that are either democratic or clearly on the road to democracy—in contrast to only one-third in 1979. In less than 6 years, popularly elected democrats have replaced dictators in Argentina, Bolivia, Ecuador, El Salvador, Honduras, Panama, Peru, and Grenada. Brazil and Uruguay will inaugurate civilian presidents in March. After a long twilight of dictatorship, this hemispheric trend toward free elections and representative government is something to be applauded and supported.

The Challenge to the Brezhnev Doctrine

Democracy is an old idea, but today we witness a new phenomenon. For many years we saw our adversaries act without restraint to back insurgencies around the world to spread communist dictatorships. The Soviet Union and its proxies, like Cuba and Vietnam, have consistently supplied money, arms, and training in efforts to destabilize or overthrow noncommunist governments. “Wars of national liberation” became the pretext for subverting any noncommunist country in the name of so-called “socialist internationalism.”

At the same time, any victory of communism was held to be irreversible. This was the infamous Brezhnev doctrine, first proclaimed at the time of the invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968. Its meaning is simple and chilling: once you’re in the so-called “socialist camp,” you’re not allowed to leave. Thus the Soviets say to the rest of the world: “What’s mine is mine. What’s yours is up for grabs.”

In recent years, Soviet activities and pretensions have run head on into the democratic revolution. People are insisting on their right to independence, on their right to choose their government free of outside control. Where once the Soviets may have thought that all discontent was ripe for turning into communist insurgencies, today we see a new and different kind of struggle: people around the world risking their lives against communist despotism. We see brave men and women fighting to challenge the Brezhnev doctrine.

In December 1979, the Soviets invaded Afghanistan to preserve a communist system installed by force a year and a half earlier. But their invasion met stiff resistance, and the puppet government they installed has proved incapable of commanding popular support. Today, the Soviets have expanded their occupation army and are trying to devastate the population and the nation they cannot subdue. They are demolishing entire Afghan villages and have driven one out of every four Afghans to flee the country. They have threatened neighboring countries like Pakistan and have been unwilling to negotiate seriously for a political solution.

In the face of this Soviet invasion, the Afghans who are fighting and dying for the liberation of their country have made a remarkable stand. Their will has not flagged; indeed, their capacity to resist has grown. The countryside is now largely in the hands of the popular resistance, and not even in the major cities can the Soviets claim complete control. Clearly, the Afghans do not share the belief of some in the West that fighting back is pointless, that the only option is to let one’s country be “quietly erased,” to use the memorable phrase of the Czech writer, Milan Kundera.

In Cambodia, the forces open to democracy, once all but annihilated by the Khmer Rouge, are now waging a similar battle against occupation and a puppet regime imposed by a Soviet ally, communist Vietnam. Although Vietnam is too poor to feed, house, or care for the health of its own population adequately, the Stalinist dictators of Hanoi are bent on imperial domination of Indochina—much as many had predicted before, during, and after the Vietnam war. But 6 years after its invasion, Vietnam does not control Cambodia. Resistance forces total over 50,000; of these, noncommunist forces have grown from zero to over 20,000. The Vietnamese still need an occupation army of 170,000 to keep order in the country; they even had to bring in two new divisions to mount the recent offensive. That offensive, while more brutal than previous attacks, will prove no more conclusive than those before.

In Africa, as well, the Brezhnev doctrine is being challenged by the drive for independence and freedom. In Ethiopia, a Soviet-backed Marxist-Leninist dictatorship has shown indifference to the desperate poverty and suffering of its people. The effects of a natural disaster have been compounded by the regime’s obsession with ideology and power. In classical Stalinist fashion, it has ruined agricultural production through forced collectivization; denied food to starving people for political reasons; subjected many thousands to forced resettlement; and spent vast sums of money on arms and “revolutionary” spectacles. But the rulers cannot hide the dimensions of the tragedy from their people. Armed insurgencies continue, while the regime persists in relying on military solutions and on expanding the power and scope of the police and security apparatus.

In Angola, a Marxist regime came into power in 1975 backed and sustained by 30,000 Cuban troops and substantial numbers of Soviet and East European “advisers.” The continuation of this Soviet/Cuban intervention has been a major impediment to the achievement of independence for Namibia under the terms of UN Security Council Resolution 435;⁶ it is also a continuing challenge to African independence and regional peace and security—thus our sustained diplomatic effort to achieve a regional settlement addressing the issues of both Angola and Namibia. In Angola, UNITA [National Union for the Total Independence of Angola] has waged an armed struggle against the regime’s monopoly of power and in recent years has steadily expanded the territory under its control. Foreign forces, whether Cuban or South African, must leave. At some point there will be an internal political settlement in Angola that reflects Angolan political reality, not external intervention.

Finally, an important struggle is being waged today closer to home in Central America. Its countries are in transition, trying to resolve the inequities and tensions of the past through workable reforms and democratic institutions. But violent antidemocratic minorities, tied ideologically and militarily to the Soviet Union and Cuba, are trying to prevent democratic reform and to seize or hold power by force. The outcome of this struggle will affect not only the future of peace and democracy in this hemisphere but our own vital interests.

In Nicaragua, in 1979 the Sandinista leaders pledged to the Organization of American States (OAS) and to their own people to bring freedom to their country after decades of tyranny under Somoza. The Sandinistas have betrayed these pledges and the hopes of the Nicaraguan people; instead, they have imposed a new and brutal tyranny that respects no frontiers. Basing themselves on strong military ties to Cuba and the Soviet Union, the Sandinistas are attempting, as rapidly as they can, to force Nicaragua into a totalitarian mold whose pattern is all too familiar. They are suppressing internal dissent; clamping down on the press; persecuting the church; linking up with the terrorists of Iran, Libya, and the PLO [Palestine Liberation Organization]; and seeking to undermine the legitimate and increasingly democratic governments of their neighbors.

This betrayal has forced many Nicaraguans who supported the anti-Somoza revolution back into opposition. And while many resist peacefully, thousands now see no choice but to take up arms again, to risk everything so that their hopes for freedom and democracy will not once again be denied.

The Sandinistas denounce their opponents as mercenaries or former National Guardsmen loyal to the memory of Somoza. Some in this country seem all too willing to take these charges at face value, even though they come from the same Sandinista leaders whose word has meant so little up to now. But all you have to do is count the numbers: more people have taken up arms against the Sandinistas than ever belonged to Somoza’s National Guard. In fact, most of the leaders of the armed resistance fought in the revolution against Somoza; and some even served in the new government until it became clear that the comandantes were bent on communism, not freedom; terror, not reform; and aggression, not peace. The new fighters for freedom include peasants and farmers, shopkeepers and vendors, teachers and professionals. What unites them to each other and to the other thousands of Nicaraguans who resist without arms is disillusionment with Sandinista militarism, corruption, and fanaticism.

Despite uncertain and sporadic support from outside, the resistance in Nicaragua is growing. The Sandinistas have strengthened their Soviet and Cuban military ties, but their popularity at home has declined sharply. The struggle in Nicaragua for democracy and freedom, and against dictatorship, is far from over, and right now may well be a pivotal moment that decides the future.

America’s Moral Duty

This new phenomenon we are witnessing around the world—popular insurgencies against communist domination—is not an American creation. In every region, the people have made their own decision to stand and fight rather than see their cultures and freedoms “quietly erased.” They have made clear their readiness to fight with or without outside support, using every available means and enduring severe hardships, alone if need be.

But America also has a moral responsibility. The lesson of the postwar era is that America must be the leader of the free world; there is no one else to take our place. The nature and extent of our support—whether moral support or something more—necessarily varies from case to case. But there should be no doubt about where our sympathies lie.

It is more than mere coincidence that the last 4 years have been a time of both renewed American strength and leadership and a resurgence of democracy and freedom. As we are the strongest democratic nation on earth, the actions we take—or do not take—have both a direct and an indirect impact on those who share our ideals and hopes all around the globe. If we shrink from leadership, we create a vacuum into which our adversaries can move. Our national security suffers, our global interests suffer, and, yes, the worldwide struggle for democracy suffers.

The Soviets are fond of talking about the “correlation of forces,” and for a few years it may have seemed that the correlation of forces favored communist minorities backed by Soviet military power. Today, however, the Soviet empire is weakening under the strain of its own internal problems and external entanglements. And the United States has shown the will and the strength to defend its interests, to resist the spread of Soviet influence, and to protect freedom. Our actions, such as the rescue of Grenada, have again begun to offer inspiration and hope to others.

The importance of American power and leadership to the strength of democracy has not been the only lesson of recent history. In many ways, the reverse has also proven true: the spread of democracy serves American interests.

Historically, there have been times when the failure of democracy in certain parts of the world did not affect our national security. In the 18th and 19th centuries, the failure of democracy to take root elsewhere was unfortunate and even troubling to us, but it did not necessarily pose a threat to our own democracy. In the second half of the 20th century, that is less and less true. In almost every case in the postwar period, the imposition of communist tyrannies has led to an increase in Soviet global power and influence. Promoting insurgencies against noncommunist governments in important strategic areas has become a low-cost way for the Soviets to extend the reach of their power and to weaken their adversaries, whether they be China or the democracies of the West and Japan. This is true in Southeast Asia, Southwest Asia, Africa, and Central America.

When the United States supports those resisting totalitarianism, therefore, we do so not only out of our historical sympathy for democracy and freedom but also, in many cases, in the interests of national security. As President Reagan said in his second inaugural address: “America must remain freedom’s staunchest friend, for freedom is our best ally and it is the world’s only hope to conquer poverty and preserve peace.”⁷

In many parts of the world we have no choice but to act, on both moral and strategic grounds.

How To Respond?

The question is: How should we act? What should America do to further both its security interests and the cause of freedom and democracy? A prudent strategy must combine different elements, suited to different circumstances.

First, as a matter of fundamental principle, the United States supports human rights and peaceful democratic change throughout the world, including in noncommunist, pro-Western countries. Democratic institutions are the best guarantor of stability and peace, as well as of human rights. Therefore, we have an interest in seeing peaceful progress toward democracy in friendly countries.

Such a transition is often complex and delicate, and it can only come about in a way consistent with a country’s history, culture, and political realities. We will not succeed if we fail to recognize positive change when it does occur—whether in South Africa, or the Republic of Korea, or the Philippines. Nor will we achieve our goal if we ignore the even greater threat to the freedom of such countries as South Korea and the Philippines from external or internal forces of totalitarianism. We must heed the cautionary lessons of both Iran and Nicaragua, in which pressures against rightwing authoritarian regimes were not well thought out and helped lead to even more repressive dictatorship.

Our influence with friendly governments is a precious resource; we use it for constructive ends. The President has said that “human rights means working at problems, not walking away from them.” Therefore, we stay engaged. We stay in contact with all democratic political forces, in opposition as well as in government. The historic number of transitions from authoritarian regimes to democracy in the last decade, from southern Europe to Latin America, demonstrates the effectiveness of this approach—as well as the essential difference between authoritarian and totalitarian regimes. There are no examples of a communist system, once consolidated, evolving into a democracy.

In June 1982, addressing the British Parliament, President Reagan endorsed a new effort—including leaders of business, labor, and both the Democratic and Republican Parties—to enlist the energies of American private citizens in helping to develop the skills, institutions, and practices of democracy around the world. Today, the National Endowment for Democracy, the concrete result of that initiative, is assisting democratic groups in a wide variety of countries. The endowment represents practical American support for people abroad working for our common ideals.

Second, we have a moral obligation to support friendly democratic governments by providing economic and security assistance against a variety of threats. When democratic friends are threatened by externally supported insurgencies, when hostile neighbors try to intimidate them by acquiring offensive arms or sponsor terrorism in an effort to topple their governments, international security is jeopardized. The more we can lend appropriate help to others to protect themselves, the less need will there be for more direct American involvement to keep the peace.

Americans have always responded with courage when overwhelming danger called for an immediate, all-out national effort. But the harder task is to recognize and meet challenges before they erupt into major crises, before they represent an immediate threat, and before they require an all-out effort. We have many possible responses that fall between the extremes of inaction and the direct use of military force—but we must be willing to use them, or else we will inevitably face the agonizing choice between those two extremes.

Economic and security assistance is one of those crucial means of avoiding and deterring bigger threats. It is also vital support to those friendly nations on the front line—like Pakistan, Thailand, or Honduras and Costa Rica—whose security is threatened by Soviet and proxy efforts to export their system.

Third, we should support the forces of freedom in communist totalitarian states. We must not succumb to the fashionable thinking that democracy has enemies only on the right, that pressures and sanctions are fine against rightwing dictators but not against leftwing totalitarians. We should support the aspirations for freedom of peoples in communist states just as we want freedom for people anywhere else. For example, without raising false hopes, we have a duty to make it clear—especially on the anniversary of the Yalta conference—that the United States will never accept the artificial division of Europe into free and not free. This has nothing to do with boundaries and everything to do with ideas and governance. Our radios will continue to broadcast the truth to people in closed societies.

Fourth, and finally, our moral principles compel us to support those struggling against the imposition of communist tyranny. From the founding of this nation, Americans have believed that a people have the right to seek freedom and independence—and that we have both a legal right and a moral obligation to help them.

In contrast to the Soviets and their allies, the United States is committed to the principles of international law. The UN and OAS Charters reaffirm the inherent right of individual and collective self-defense against aggression—aggression of the kind committed by the Soviets in Afghanistan, by Nicaragua in Central America, and by Vietnam in Cambodia. Material assistance to those opposing such aggression can be a lawful form of collective self-defense. Moral and political support, of course, is a longstanding and honorable American tradition—as is our humanitarian assistance for civilians and refugees in war-torn areas.

Most of what we do to promote freedom is, and should continue to be, entirely open. Equally, there are efforts that are most effective when handled quietly. Our Founding Fathers were sophisticated men who understood the necessity for discreet actions; after the controversies of the 1970s, we now have a set of procedures agreed between the President and Congress for overseeing such special programs. In a democracy, clearly, the people have a right to know and to shape the overall framework and objectives that guide all areas of policy. In those few cases where national security requires that the details are better kept confidential, Congress and the President can work together to ensure that what is done remains consistent with basic American principles.

Do we really have a choice? In the 1970s, a European leader proposed to Brezhnev that peaceful coexistence should extend to the ideological sphere. Brezhnev responded firmly that this was impossible, that the ideological struggle continued even in an era of detente, and that the Soviet Union would forever support “national liberation” movements. The practical meaning of that is clear. When Soviet Politburo member Gorbachev was in London recently, he affirmed that Nicaragua had gained independence only with the Sandinista takeover.⁸ The Soviets and their proxies thus proceed on the theory that any country not Marxist-Leninist is not truly independent, and, therefore, the supply of money, arms, and training to overthrow its government is legitimate.

Again: “What’s mine is mine. What’s yours is up for grabs.” This is the Brezhnev doctrine.

So long as communist dictatorships feel free to aid and abet insurgencies in the name of “socialist internationalism,” why must the democracies, the target of this threat, be inhibited from defending their own interests and the cause of democracy itself?

How can we as a country say to a young Afghan, Nicaraguan, or Cambodian: “Learn to live with oppression; only those of us who already have freedom deserve to pass it on to our children.” How can we say to those Salvadorans who stood so bravely in line to vote: “We may give you some economic and military aid for self-defense, but we will also give a free hand to the Sandinistas who seek to undermine your new democratic institutions.”

Some try to evade this moral issue by the relativistic notion that “one man’s freedom fighter is another man’s terrorist.” This is nonsense. There is a self-evident difference between those fighting to impose tyranny and those fighting to resist it. In El Salvador, procommunist guerrillas backed by the Soviet bloc are waging war against a democratically elected government; in Nicaragua and elsewhere, groups seeking democracy are resisting the tightening grip of totalitarians seeking to suppress democracy. The essence of democracy is to offer means for peaceful change, legitimate political competition, and redress of grievances. Violence directed against democracy is, therefore, fundamentally lacking in legitimacy.

What we should do in each situation must, of necessity, vary. But it must always be clear whose side we are on—the side of those who want to see a world based on respect for national independence, for freedom and the rule of law, and for human rights. Wherever possible, the path to that world should be through peaceful and political means; but where dictatorships use brute power to oppress their own people and threaten their neighbors, the forces of freedom cannot place their trust in declarations alone.

Central America

Nowhere are both the strategic and the moral stakes clearer than in Central America.

The Sandinista leaders in Nicaragua are moving quickly, with Soviet-bloc and Cuban help, to consolidate their totalitarian power. Should they achieve this primary goal, we could confront a second Cuba in this hemisphere, this time on the Central American mainland—with all the strategic dangers that this implies. If history is any guide, the Sandinistas would then intensify their efforts to undermine neighboring governments in the name of their revolutionary principles—principles which Fidel Castro himself flatly reaffirmed on American television a few weeks ago.⁹ Needless to say, the first casualty of the consolidation of Sandinista power would be the freedom and hopes for democracy of the Nicaraguan people. The second casualty would be the security of Nicaragua’s neighbors and the security of the entire region.

I do not believe anyone in the United States wants to see this dangerous scenario unfold. Yet there are those who would look the other way, imagining that the problem will disappear by itself. There are those who would grant the Sandinistas a peculiar kind of immunity in our legislation—in effect, enacting the Brezhnev doctrine into American law.

The logic of the situation in Central America is inescapable.

• The Sandinistas are committed Marxist-Leninists; it would be foolish of us and insulting to them to imagine that they do not believe in their proclaimed goals. They will not modify or bargain away their position unless there is compelling incentive for them to do so.
• The only incentive that has proved effective thus far comes from the vigorous armed opposition of the many Nicaraguans who seek freedom and democratic government.
• The pressures of the armed resistance have diverted Sandinista energies and resources away from aggression against its neighbor El Salvador, thus helping to disrupt guerrilla plans for a major offensive there last fall.
• If the pressure of the armed resistance is removed, the Sandinistas will have no reason to compromise; all U.S. diplomatic efforts—and those of the Contadora group—will be undermined.

Central America’s hopes for peace, security, democracy, and economic progress will not be realized unless there is a fundamental change in Nicaraguan behavior in four areas.

First, Nicaragua must stop playing the role of surrogate for the Soviet Union and Cuba. As long as there are large numbers of Soviet and Cuban security and military personnel in Nicaragua, Central America will be embroiled in the East-West conflict.

Second, Nicaragua must reduce its armed forces, now in excess of 100,000, to a level commensurate with its legitimate security needs—a level comparable to those of its neighbors. The current imbalance is incompatible with regional stability.

Third, Nicaragua must absolutely and definitively stop its support for insurgents and terrorists in the region. All of Nicaragua’s neighbors, and particularly El Salvador, have felt the brunt of Sandinista efforts to destabilize their governments. No country in Central America will be secure as long as this continues.

And fourth, the Sandinistas must live up to their commitments to democratic pluralism made to the OAS in 1979. The internal Nicaraguan opposition groups, armed and unarmed, represent a genuine political force that is entitled to participate in the political processes of the country. It is up to the Government of Nicaragua to provide the political opening that will allow their participation.

We will note and welcome such a change in Nicaraguan behavior no matter how it is obtained. Whether it is achieved through the multilateral Contadora negotiations, through unilateral actions taken by the Sandinistas alone or in concert with their domestic opponents, or through the collapse of the Sandinista regime is immaterial to us. But without such a change of behavior, lasting peace in Central America will be impossible.

The democratic forces in Nicaragua are on the front line in the struggle for progress, security, and freedom in Central America. Our active help for them is the best insurance that their efforts will be directed consistently and effectively toward these objectives.

But the bottom line is this: those who would cut off these freedom fighters from the rest of the democratic world are, in effect, consigning Nicaragua to the endless darkness of communist tyranny. And they are leading the United States down a path of greater danger. For if we do not take the appropriate steps now to pressure the Sandinistas to live up to their past promises—to cease their arms buildup, to stop exporting tyranny across their borders, to open Nicaragua to the competition of freedom and democracy—then we may find later, when we can no longer avoid acting, that the stakes will be higher and the costs greater.

Whatever options we choose, we must be true to our principles and our history. As President Reagan said recently:

It behooves all of us who believe in democratic government, in free elections, in the respect for human rights to stand side by side with those who share our ideals, especially in Central America. We must not permit those heavily armed by a far away dictatorship to undermine their neighbors and to stamp out democratic alternatives at home. We must have the same solidarity with those who struggle for democracy, as our adversaries do with those who would impose communist dictatorship.¹⁰

We must, in short, stand firmly in the defense of our interests and principles and the rights of peoples to live in freedom. The forces of democracy around the world merit our standing with them, to abandon them would be a shameful betrayal—a betrayal not only of brave men and women but of our highest ideals.

1. Source: Department of State Bulletin, April 1985, pp. 16–21. All brackets are in the original. Shultz spoke before the Commonwealth Club of California. For the text of a question-and-answer session following the address, see ibid., pp. 21–23.
2. In a January 23 action memorandum to Shultz, Rodman wrote: “For the Commonwealth Club date, I would suggest that we make a pitch for Contra funding, because I am convinced the political/psychological balance in Central America will tilt irretrievably against us if we lose that battle. I mentioned to you Mark Palmer’s idea of a speech on the subject of today’s anti-Communist freedom fighters—in Afghanistan, Nicaragua, Cambodia, Angola, etc. We would invoke the long-standing American tradition of support for those fighting for democracy against repressive governments, harking back to Bolivar and the Polish patriots of the 19th century. Thus the issue of covert action can be tackled on a higher moral plane. Mark is going to write up some of his thoughts on this theme, and I think it would make a good speech.” (Reagan Library, Peter Rodman Files, NSC Subject File, Reagan Doctrine: 1985) In his memoir, Shultz recalled: “I continued to work on the conceptual side of our approach to the Soviet Union and on February 22, 1985, at the Commonwealth Club in San Francisco, spoke on ‘America and the Struggle for Freedom,’ a statement that enunciated what came to be known as the Reagan Doctrine. I had gone over my speech carefully with the president, who approved wholeheartedly, and had shown it to Bill Casey, Cap Weinberger, and Bud McFarlane at one of our Family Group lunches. Casey said, ‘Don’t put this into the interagency clearance process; don’t let anyone change a word.’ I considered the speech an important complement to my June 1983 Senate testimony, which initially set out our four-part agenda, and my October 1984 RAND/UCLA speech calling for us to move beyond the concept of linkage in our policy toward the Soviet Union.” (Shultz, Turmoil and Triumph, p. 525) See Documents 158 and 209, respectively.
3. See footnote 9, Document 104.
4. Reference is to Kennedy’s January 20, 1961, inaugural address; see footnote 2, Document 191.
5. Gandhi was shot and killed by two members of her security detail on October 31, 1984.
6. See footnote 10, Document 63.
7. See Document 226.
8. Gorbachev paid a week-long visit to London in December 1984.
9. Possible reference to Robert MacNeil’s interview of Castro, conducted in Cuba on February 9, 1985, and broadcast in segments on the PBS MacNeil-Lehrer Newshour public affairs program the week of February 11.
10. The President offered these remarks at the Western Hemisphere Legislative Leaders Forum, co-sponsored by the Western Hemisphere Affairs Subcommittee of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, Boston University, and the Center for Democracy, held on January 24 at the Old Executive Office Building. For the text of the remarks, see Public Papers: Reagan, 1985, Book I, pp. 66–68.