Mongolia Government

The labor union activists rallying in a downtown square clearly enjoyed new freedoms, but that did nothing to tone down their angry rhetoric. A string of speakers denounced Mongolia's reformist government for failing to cope with spiraling prices that threaten a sharp fall in living standards during the long cold months that lie ahead. "Senior citizens are beginning to starve," declared one protest placard. "The children in the cradles are crying," read another.

This little island yearns for international recognition. It's desperate for membership in world bodies such as the United Nations. Its people want to be seen as players in their own right, not just as a rich appendage of the Chinese mainland. Its government coddles the few diplomatic allies it has left, mostly impoverished countries that receive hefty financial aid in return for not moving their embassies to Beijing.

A congress of Mongolian dissidents meeting here Sunday proclaimed the creation of an opposition political party, called for the resignation of the nation's top Communist leaders, and demanded the trial and punishment of "those officials who brought the country its foreign dependence and economic crisis."

Oidov Enhtuya never intended to go into politics. A tiny woman with a confident saunter and soft freckles across her round face, Enhtuya was front office manager at the Genghis Khan Hotel until the winds of political change swept across Mongolia in 1990, abruptly ending nearly seven decades of communism. To fill the political vacuum, Enhtuya hastily mobilized her friends to launch the Liberal Women's Brain Pool.

Why Mongolia? What is it about this remote, lightly populated Central Asian land that tugs at the heart of the usually unsentimental Secretary of State James A. Baker III? Over the last 2 1/2 years, while often proclaiming the importance of American interests across the Pacific, the secretary of state has shown little, if any, eagerness for travel in Asia. He has, so far, made at least 25 visits to Europe since taking office, and only four to Asia (excluding the Middle East).

The newly formed Mongolian Democratic Assn. will hold its first congress in Ulan Bator today, at which about 500 national delegates are expected to make radical demands and proclaim themselves Mongolia's first opposition party. Signaling a concession to democratic demands, the government is removing the last statue of dictator Josef Stalin in Ulan Bator, a state-run newspaper said. "The statue has received much (public) displeasure," the newspaper said.

This country's 2 million people, some riding to the polls on horseback, voted Sunday in their first free elections since the Communist Party's surrender of its guaranteed monopoly on power. More than three-quarters of the electorate had voted four hours before the polls were to close, officials said. Diplomats in the capital, Ulan Bator, predicted that the Communist Party would win but that its authority, unchallenged for 69 years, would be much weakened. "Everything is peaceful.

Mongolia's Communist leaders offered to resign Friday in the face of protests by thousands of people calling for multi-party democracy, East Bloc news agencies reported from the capital Ulan Bator. The East German news agency ADN and the Soviet news agency Tass also said a national referendum will be organized to give the people an opportunity to say whether they had confidence in the Mongolian Parliament, the People's Great Hural.

Thousands of pro-democracy demonstrators streamed into central Ulan Bator, the capital of Mongolia, to demand the dissolution of Parliament and call for reforms, including an end to government funding for the ruling Communist Party. Leaders of 11 loosely aligned pro-democracy groups made anti-government speeches before about 7,000 banner-waving protesters.

Mongolia's new Communist Party leader criticized his predecessors for stifling democracy and promised to hold the country's first free elections after 69 years of Communist dominance. Reformist Gombojavyn Ochirbat, chosen Wednesday as general secretary of the ruling Mongolian People's Revolutionary Party, said the failures of former leaders had caused economic crises and fomented public indignation.

The Mongolian People's Revolutionary Party (MPRP), which ruled for decades under the Communist banner, holds a key congress beginning Wednesday at which it will discuss its own future amid an economic crisis that has seen Mongolia's gross national product drop by 10% in the last year. While it still dominates the government, the MPRP began moving two years ago to accept multi-party politics and a market economy, and it now has coalition partners.

The labor union activists rallying in a downtown square clearly enjoyed new freedoms, but that did nothing to tone down their angry rhetoric. A string of speakers denounced Mongolia's reformist government for failing to cope with spiraling prices that threaten a sharp fall in living standards during the long cold months that lie ahead. "Senior citizens are beginning to starve," declared one protest placard. "The children in the cradles are crying," read another.

Two child monks climbed a tower outside the scripture-reading hall of Erdene Zuu Monastery, then blew long blasts on conch-shell horns in a call to prayer. The temple air, heavy with incense and smoke from butter lamps, soon filled with Tibetan Buddhist chants and the sound of cymbals, drums and horns as 50 lamas gathered in worship.

Why Mongolia? What is it about this remote, lightly populated Central Asian land that tugs at the heart of the usually unsentimental Secretary of State James A. Baker III? Over the last 2 1/2 years, while often proclaiming the importance of American interests across the Pacific, the secretary of state has shown little, if any, eagerness for travel in Asia. He has, so far, made at least 25 visits to Europe since taking office, and only four to Asia (excluding the Middle East).

President Bush accorded Mongolia most-favored-nation trade status and saluted the democratic and economic reforms unfolding in the once-Communist state. Mongolian President Punsalmaagiyn Ochirbat, the first Mongolian head of state ever to visit the United States, said the new trade arrangement will foster U.S. investment.

Dismantling seven decades of communism at surprising speed, Mongolia's new-look socialist party plans to give away state assets in equal lots to every citizen--man and woman, baby and retiree. "We have no time to lose to transfer to a market economy," Deputy Prime Minister D. Dorligjav said in an interview.

Mongolia's Communist Party newspaper warned a pro-reform group Friday not to push too far in its efforts to promote democratic change. It was the first official public criticism of the remote Asian nation's fledgling reform movement. A foreign source in Ulan Bator, the capital, said the comments in the daily newspaper Unen came after a street rally Jan. 13 that attracted up to 5,000 people, and several incidents of vandalism this week, including the theft of a small statue of Stalin.

Elections in Communist-ruled Mongolia have given opposition parties nearly 40% of the seats in a key legislative body, according to results released Tuesday. Communist Party chief Gombojavyn Ochirbat, speaking at a news conference in the Mongolian capital of Ulan Bator, said opposition representatives will be invited to join the new government's Cabinet. This step is "vital for political stability and national unity," he said.

Voters in Mongolia on Sunday gave opposition parties a role in government for the first time in nearly seven decades of Communist rule, according to early results released today. Sunday's vote, the final round of the first free elections ever held in any Asian Communist country, climaxed a hard-fought but peaceful campaign. Rock bands performed for the opposition. Men on horseback handed out leaflets at a Communist rally. Voters in many districts questioned candidates at public forums.