254 THE END OF THE COLD WAR
her packet of wet mini-wipes afterwards. The American side described
this as her Pontius Pilate syndrome.^41 Americans were accustomed to
their own First Lady buttoning her lip when on public display. They
disliked Raisa’s opinionated outbursts.^42 But Gorbachëv knew that
there was much more to his wife than her image in Europe and North
America and he was comforted by her presence.
Not everyone thought ill of her. On the trip to India in Novem-
ber 1986, she earned approval for her ‘philosophical curiosity’.^43 Her
problems arose when people had definite expectations about her.
She bristled. She got bored very easily. She talked a lot. Underneath
her brash exterior she was a pensive observer who wanted the best for
her husband and their country.
In December 1988, when Gorbachëv drew together the Soviet
team in New York before giving a big speech to the United Nations
General Assembly, he felt no embarrassment in tenderly and respect-
fully asking for Raisa’s opinion in front of the others.^44 She gradually
learned to be less assertive. For instance, she deliberately moved to the
side when Gorbachëv and Thatcher posed for photographers outside
10 Downing Street in April 1989.^45 She tried to avoid flamboyant
clothes that might irritate the average Soviet TV viewer. At her hus-
band’s speech in the Guildhall on the same London trip, she decided
not to wear a hat and gloves. (Mrs Thatcher, apparently wishing to
make things easier for her, did the same.)^46 Soviet diplomat Anatoli
Adamishin had not been among her sympathizers until he sat next to
her at a performance by the Harlem Ballet in New York in May 1988.
Her voice full of emotion, she exclaimed: ‘. . . But what difficult times
we’re living through!’ From that moment Adamishin began to see her
as the woman who had come to Moscow as a poor girl from the prov-
inces and made a success of herself.^47 But ordinary Russians saw
nothing of this vulnerability. They thought of her as pushy whereas
Gorbachëv in reality badly needed her in the role of political confi-
dante.
O’Bie Shultz and Nanuli Shevardnadze were content to stay out of
the limelight, and they formed a friendly bond after meeting in 1985.
The two couples got on well. Shevardnadze and his wife were people of
emotional sensitivity – Nanuli looked after her autistic granddaughter
during weekdays when their daughter was at work.^48 O’Bie, a former
nurse, warmed to her. Their friendliness contrasted with the frostiness
that separated Raisa and Nancy.
Shevardnadze enjoyed Shultz’s company, sensing that he had a