Impeachment

by Mark Spivak

  “Well, Mr. Fixit?” He spoke without opening his eyes. “Any ideas?”

  “You have to deport the immigrants.”

  “I won’t do it.”

  “You have to,” said Gottbaum. “The House Republicans will eat you alive. Send them back, and you can be full of moral outrage for the rest of your term. Maybe it even leads to meaningful immigration reform down the road.”

  “I’m not going do it, Joel.”

  “Somebody set you up. You were snookered. Now you’re marching right into the center of the trap.”

  “What if they were Black, instead of Latino?”

  “They’re not Black. To be honest, it doesn’t even matter. It’s time to dial back your empathy and look at the big picture. When you sleep on it, you’ll realize you have to send them back.”

  Chapter 39

  On a cool, crisp day in early November, Khaleem Atalas and Curt Bassen approached the microphone in the Rose Garden.

  “Good morning, everybody,” said the President. “We both have statements for you today. I’m going to let Curt go first, after which I’ll have something to add. In keeping with the seriousness of this occasion, we will not be taking any questions. Curt?”

  “Thank you, Mr. President.” Bassen squinted into the sun. He seemed to be looking at a distant point on the horizon, rather than at the assembled group of reporters and staffers. “Ladies and gentlemen. For nearly five years, I’ve been blessed with the honor to serve in this administration and give something back to my country. Of the many advantages I’ve had in life, one of the most significant has been the opportunity to work side by side with one of the greatest Presidents in modern history. It has been my good fortune to get to know him and to be able to call him a friend as well as a colleague, and I’m extremely proud of everything we’ve accomplished together.

  “I’ve been faced with some challenges in recent months. I’ve had some family issues, which have been difficult but still surmountable—as many of you know, I’ve faced tragedies in my family before. However, my recent heart attack has made me acutely aware of my own mortality. Simply put, I’m not as young as I used to be, and I don’t have the stamina I wish I had. I could certainly slow down a bit and continue to execute the responsibilities of my office at a more reasonable pace, as my doctors have advised me to do, but that would create an acute moral dilemma for me. I would not be performing at a peak level, which is what this office—and this country—is entitled to.

  “Therefore, I have decided to step down as Vice President so that the work of the republic may be continued by someone younger and healthier than myself. I make this decision with both sorrow and regret, yet I am convinced that it is the right thing to do. I will work closely with the President and offer any assistance I can render in helping him select a replacement, and I will be available to provide advice and counsel to the man or woman who succeeds me.

  “I could not possibly begin to thank everyone who participated in my extraordinary journey. I’m deeply indebted to my family, friends and colleagues, to the staffers who have worked so long and hard on my behalf, to the President and to the people of this great land. To anyone who is disappointed by my decision today, I say this: The republic will endure without me, just as it prospered before I came along. I look forward to watching its progress from my rocking chair.”

  He turned away from the microphone, and the two men embraced. After the back slapping, Atalas approached the podium with a sober expression.

  “Thank you, Curt. As you can imagine, I’m more disappointed than anyone here today. Having Curt Bassen by my side has been one of the blessings of my presidency. I can’t begin to express my gratitude for his help and his service to our nation. At the same time, I respect his decision and want the healthiest outcome for him.” He flashed his trademark grin. “You better keep a phone near that rocking chair, because I’ll be calling you frequently.

  “In the weeks to come, I’ll form an exploratory committee to assist me with the difficult task of replacing Curt Bassen. I’ll quickly walk you through this process, since many of you weren’t around the last time it happened, in 1973. According to the Twenty-fifth amendment to the Constitution, it’s my responsibility to appoint a successor to fill the job of Vice President. That person will need to be approved by a majority vote of both the House and the Senate. As I have so many times in the past, I’m going to seek Curt’s input on this decision and rely on his judgement to help me select the most qualified person to help carry on the work of this administration. There is no possible way that I could ever replace Curt Bassen, but I’m confident that we can find someone who will assist me in taking our mission the rest of the way. When history judges this administration, I’m confident it will rate Curt Bassen as an outstanding public servant, and an even greater man.

  “Thank you.”

  As the two men turned away and walked under the portico toward the White House, the press shouted questions at their backs.

  “Mr. President, will you deport the immigrants on the southern border?”

  “What’s the status of your appeal of the Repatriation Act to the Supreme Court?”

  “Mr. President, Jorge Mendoza recently said that if the immigrants were White, their civil rights would have been protected. How do you feel about that?”

  “This is just the damnedest thing I’ve ever seen,” said Bull Caldwell, as he reached for another slice of pizza.

  “That’s the third time you’ve said that,” said Chet Wallko. “Care to enlighten us as to the cause of your amazement?”

  “I’m no fan of Khaleem Atalas, but he’s not a stupid man. I have no idea of why he’s doin’ this to himself. For God’s sake, the man taught Constitutional law—he knows damn well he can’t reverse the Repatriation Act. Looks to me like he’s spoilin’ for a fight. It’s like he wants to get himself impeached.”

  “I don’t see the House voting impeachment,” said Bob Insfield. “They know very well it doesn’t go anywhere. He’ll never get convicted in the Senate.”

  “Damn, you’re naïve,” said Caldwell. “It doesn’t have to go anywhere. They got these cowboys over there in the House who are eatin’ their Wheaties, guys like Barrett. And then you’ve got a whole bunch of spineless members who are catchin’ hell from the folks back home. The redder the district, the more they want the President’s ass on a platter. Gottbaum should know that.”

  “You just gave your own answer,” said Carlton Bridges, the Senate’s lone Independent. “It doesn’t have to go anywhere. The guys from the redneck districts will make a statement, their constituents will be pacified, and they can get on with the daily process of doing nothing.”

  “And what about this whole business with Curt Bassen?” Caldwell looked like a toddler confronted with a complex puzzle he couldn’t unravel. “That deal is stranger than strange. If it were me, God forbid, I’d lock Curt in the basement for the rest of the term and hire a body double to take his place.”

  Wallko laughed. “They’ve probably done that already.”

  “Don’t joke, bubba,” said Caldwell. “You may end up playing a bigger role in this than you want to.”

  “There’s nothing to fear.” Wallko stretched and looked at his watch. “He’ll just appoint Marcus Kaplan as Vice President, and everybody will live happily ever after.”

  “Why the hell didn’t he wait a few months to announce Bassen’s retirement?”

  “Probably because he doesn’t want Curt dying on him,” said Insfield. “He has enough problems as it is. Anyway, let’s take Bull’s hypothetical and kick it around. Say the House votes impeachment and dumps it into our laps. What happens then? You need a two-thirds majority to convict, which means you’ve got to get 18 Democrats to defect and vote against Atalas.”

  “It’ll never happen,” said Charles Moscone of Pennsyl-vania.

  “The vote on the Repatria
tion Act was 58-42,” said Wallko. “That means you had nine defections. Another nine is always possible.”

  “Chet’s right,” said Insfield. “You’ve got about 110,000 immigrants in these camps right now. Say it’s a few months from now, and you’re pushing 200,000. The inmates are rioting, they’re dying like flies from a cholera epidemic, and the entire world is aghast. Do you stand by Atalas?”

  There was silence as the group looked at Moscone.

  “There you go,” said Insfield after twenty seconds had passed. “He’s from your state, and you can’t even say you’d vote for him. What does that tell you?”

  “It won’t come to that,” said Moscone.

  Insfield gave him a broad smile. “Everybody loves a dreamer.”

  Chapter 40

  Supreme Court Refuses to Hear Appeal ofRepatriation Act

  Lower Court Ruling Stands; President is Defiant

  November 10: Special to The Washington Post

  By Kenneth Jablonski, National Editor

  In a stunning rebuke to the limits of executive power, the U.S. Supreme Court today declined to hear an appeal in the case of Atalas v. The Congress of the United States.

  Their refusal means that the lower court ruling will stand, and the Repatriation Act is the law of the land. President Atalas is legally obligated to begin deportations of the approximately 115,000 immigrants currently being detained in tent cities on the U.S.-Mexican border.

  In a terse statement, Chief Justice Paul Gilliam noted that “The legislation is binding. According to the separation of powers outlined in the Constitution, the administration has no standing in this case. It is surprising to a majority of this court that the appeals were even heard in the first place, and we will not pursue this matter further.”

  It was widely expected that the Court would agree to review the case and give a final ruling to settle the issue. Legal experts observe that four Justices are normally sufficient to hear an appeal, leading to speculation that the Court suspended their normal procedure and made their decision based on a majority vote.

  No immediate reaction was forthcoming from the White House. At his daily briefing, Press Secretary Josh Rulander said: “The President is disappointed with the Court’s lack of action, and he believes strongly that the Repatriation Act violates the constitutional rights of the immigrants currently detained on the border. He is consulting with his advisers on the best way forward.”

  Supporters of the Repatriation Act, on the other hand, were quick to make their feelings known.

  “The legal charade is over,” said Rep. Jeffrey Barrett (R-Texas), sponsor of the legislation and head of the American Values Caucus in the House. “It’s now time for the President to stop stalling and obey the law, which is what he was elected to do.”

  “For the past six months, this country has witnessed a violation of civil rights on an unprecedented scale,” said Jorge Mendoza, leader of Criollos Unidos, the nation’s largest Hispanic advocacy group. “Khaleem Atalas has allowed more than 100,000 Latino immigrants to live in subhuman conditions, while voicing empty promises about due process. The legal system has now forced him to treat these immigrants as human beings.”

  The Supreme Court’s refusal to hear the appeal brings to an end a month of legal wrangling between the President and the Congress, which passed the Repatriation Act on October 7. According to the provisions of the law, the President is obligated to begin the deportations “without any delay,” and failure to do so would require the Congress to “take all necessary steps to safeguard the nation’s security.” Many observers have interpreted that last sentence as an implied threat about impeachment.

  For his part, the President has consistently contended that the immigrants are entitled to protection under the Constitution, and he has refused to begin the deportations until they have received legal hearings. It’s not known how many of the detained immigrants have applied for asylum, but the core of the administration’s position is that the lives of the asylum seekers could easily be in jeopardy under the scenario of a mass deportation.

  The three tent cities were originally built to accommodate no more than 10,000 people, and the population in each of them has swelled to nearly 40,000. According to reports published in the Post, conditions in the camps are unpredictable and dangerous. Riots are frequent, and health conditions are unsanitary. As of today, the death toll in the camps stands at 287. Officials at Doctors Without Borders, which is currently organizing an immunization campaign among the population, have expressed surprise that a full-scale epidemic hasn’t yet occurred.

  The crisis on the U.S.-Mexico border began earlier this year, when a group called the Angels of Democracy assisted the U.S. Border Patrol in detaining immigrants who had crossed illegally. Despite the insistence of President Atalas that the immigrants deserve due process, fewer than 2,000 have received hearings on their requests for asylum.

  “Thanks for my tour of the White House kitchen,” said Chet Wallko as he settled into a chair across from Khaleem Atalas in the Oval Office. “You know, I worked my way through college and washed my share of dishes. I could always lend a hand, if you’re having trouble finding help.”

  The President grinned. “I thought that respecting your privacy was the best way to go.”

  “Plus, if I came in the front entrance, people would think I was being considered for Vice President. And we both know that’s not going to happen.”

  “Actually, you were near the top of my short list. But I wouldn’t offer, because I know you’d never accept it.”

  “It’s worth a chuckle to contemplate.”

  “It’s not as far-fetched as you might think. Remember Lincoln and his team of rivals.”

  “Sounds good in theory, but we both know the value of presenting a united front. You and Curt might have disagreed in private, but he always toed the line when the cameras were rolling.”

  “I’m going to miss him. He’s a good man.”

  “One of the best.” Wallko’s eyes glanced around the room, and they came to rest on the bust of Martin Luther King Jr. on a shelf behind the President. “I think it’s more likely that you brought me here to get a reading on your support in the Senate.”

  “Among other things, yes.”

  “Why not ask Marcus Kaplan?”

  “Because I want the truth. You and I may disagree on many issues, but I value your honesty.”

  “Well, I’m glad somebody does.” Wallko hesitated. “It’s hard for me to say, because I haven’t had a lot of ‘what if’ conversations. I can tell you, though, that the few I’ve had haven’t come out in your favor. The public is outraged about the situation on the border, and their elected representatives are feeling the heat.”

  “So I understand.”

  “Remember that you had nine defections on the Repatriation Act vote. If push comes to shove and the House votes impeachment, that puts you nine votes away from going home early.”

  “Just out of curiosity, what would you do?”

  “I assume you’re asking about the immigrants. I would have sent them back a long time ago. They broke the law.”

  “To you, it’s that open and shut?”

  “To me and many others. Look, sir, you say you value my honesty. I say you walked into a trap here.”

  The President smiled. “That’s what Gottbaum tells me.”

  “The DNC had intelligence before all this started on the Angels of Democracy. They were also aware of the camps being constructed on the border.”

  “That’s true, but no one put it all together at the time. Hindsight is always perfect.”

  “But here’s the thing: If you’re sounding me out on your support in the Senate, that presupposes that you’re not planning to send the immigrants back.”

  “I haven’t made a final decision.”

  “Frankly, I don’t see what the
re is to decide. They’re here illegally, the conditions are horrible, and you’re concerned about their constitutional rights. It’s a lose-lose situation.”

  “That’s exactly the difficulty. If I keep them here, we’re all in violation of the law. If I send them back, I’m condemning them to the misery of the life they tried to flee. Plus, I’m probably sentencing the asylum seekers to death.” The president leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temple. “You know, I keep thinking about my father, who came here from Indonesia. He escaped poverty, and he dodged the possibility that he could be killed in some meaningless tribal warfare. Everyone deserves a chance.”

  “Sounds like my father’s father, who came here from Poland. He came here legally, as I bet your father did.” Wallko paused. “With all due respect, sir, that’s the crux of it—you’re entitled to your opinion, like any other citizen, but you can’t arbitrarily decide which laws you’re going to follow. You say you’ll be sentencing the asylum seekers to death if you send them back. The way things are going, they’ll die in the camps if they stay here. It’s a miracle there hasn’t been some sort of epidemic.”

  “I’m aware of that. We’re working on improving the conditions.”

  “Improving the conditions?” Wallko could barely contain himself. “The number of detainees is increasing every day. You can’t stop the Angels of Democracy, because they’re not doing anything illegal. With all due respect, sir, you’re missing an opportunity here. This is your chance to talk about significant immigration reform—or at least it was, before this thing spiraled out of control.”

  “I’m afraid you’re right. It’s now to the point where I have to make a decision.”

  “If I were you, I’d send the immigrants back yesterday.”

  “Good thing you’re not me.” Atalas rose and offered his hand. “Thanks for coming. I appreciate your input.”