For all the White House’s talk about a tougher, less Yeltsin-centric approach to Russia’s rogue behavior, Clinton still seemed oddly protective of his counterpart. Senate Majority Leader Bob Dole branded the gathering “a failure” and called for a reassessment of U.S. aid. Even nonpartisan observers were nonplused. “This reinforces the impression that this administration has a pro-Yeltsin policy, not a pro-democracy policy,” says Michael McFaul of the Carnegie Endowment in Moscow.

Knowing what was coming, the White House had labored for weeks to lower expectations. The U.S.-Russian relationship, it argued, was too important to be “held hostage” to a few thorny issues. As he flew home, a weary Clinton appealed for a new view of summitry in the post-cold-war era, in which the stakes-and the prospects for breakthroughs–are diminished. “Once in a while something spectacular will happen. Once in a while a wheel will run off and something bad will happen,” he said. “But we need to view this in the context of a steady effort.” No wheels fell off in Moscow, but a couple continued to wobble.

Yeltsin was unyielding about his brutal suppression of the Chechen rebellion, ignoring Clinton’s entreaties for a political solution. He likened the uprising to Oklahoma City-style terrorism and characterized Russian activity in the region as mostly “creative work,” such as rehabilitating buildings. Clinton’s attitude to such egregious rhetoric seemed perfunctory, even apologetic. He urged Yeltsin to negotiate but also said the multiple nationalities inside Russia posed “a special problem with no strict parallel in the American experience.” Symbolically, Yeltsin prevailed just by getting Western leaders to celebrate VE Day in Chechnya’s shadow.

Deeply worried about Tehran’s nuclear intentions, the administration insisted that it would be satisfied only with a total cancellation of Yeltsin’s reactor deal with Iran. All Clinton got was a promise to withhold the later sale of a gas centrifuge. The two sides agreed that a commission headed by Vice President Al Gore and Prime Minister Viktor Chernomyrdin would review the deal for its military implications. To press the U.S. case, Clinton handed Yeltsin a manila folder full of intelligence data on the Iranian nuclear program–written in Russian to head off creative translations by internal proponents of the sale. But a Russian Atomic Energy Ministry spokesman predicted that the commission “will thoroughly analyze the contract details and not find a single rotten thing in it.”

On the delicate question of European security, Clinton did manage to wrest a concession. Yeltsin agreed to move Russia into the Partnership for Peace-a U.S.- and NATO-inspired organization designed to foster cooperation with countries of the old Soviet bloc. Yeltsin’s willingness to sign membership documents eases tensions triggered last December when he predicted that NATO plans would bring about a “cold peace.” But deep differences over NATO’s expansion to the east remain unresolved. The two men agreed to discuss the matter again at the G-7 meeting in Halifax next month, but they are unlikely to come to terms. And despite U.S. insistence that Russian opposition won’t slow expansion, some Eastern European countries are dubious.

Clinton did his best work last week outside the Kremlin, face to face with the Russian people. In a thoughtful speech at Moscow State University, he urged students to stay the course with democracy. He ate breakfast with opposition leaders, who told him how moved many people were by his presence at a parade of Russian veterans. Such gestures won’t win him votes in 1996 or support on Capitol Hill. But in a country where the authoritarian pulse still beats, they are an investment in a warmer future.