The Price Of Power

by James W. Huston

  “Mr. President, do you think that those who harbor ill will against us have much doubt that if they attack us, we will respond militarily?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know who you’re talking about or what attack you’re talking about.”

  “Do you believe in the concept of deterrence?”

  “In what sense?”

  “That the there presence of the ability to defend oneself deters someone else from attacking you. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, I understand.”

  “Well, do you agree with the concept?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “So you agree that the United States should have a military force?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  The murmuring in the gallery increased.

  “But as with nuclear weapons, you refuse to say whether those are for show only, or might actually be employed, is that your testimony?”

  “I wouldn’t put it that way. And that’s your comment, not what I said. I’ve already answered that question.”

  “Mr. President, if you are a private citizen and you entrust your safety to the police of the city in which you live, don’t you think you should know whether or not the police would in fact exercise the use of force if necessary to defend you?”

  “I’m afraid I’m not following you.”

  “Well, how about the Prime Minister of Great Britain? Don’t you think the Prime Minister would like to know whether or not the bobby standing outside Ten Downing Street is actually inclined to use force to protect him?”

  “I don’t know, perhaps you should ask the Prime Minister.”

  Dillon smiled, picked up his light-pen, and ran it across a bar code. “Let me show you a speech you made during the campaign for the presidency, the office you now hold, Mr. President. This is before the Society of Foreign Affairs in New York City on September eighteenth. Do you remember that speech?”

  “I remember presenting the speech.”

  “What I have in front of you is page five of a transcript of that speech. I have highlighted the portion in the middle that I want to ask you about. Would you take a moment and read that to yourself.”

  Everyone read the language on the screen as the President read as well.

  “This country has long held a leadership position in the world based on its military power. But we must not forget that we are the largest economy in the world. The greatest impact and influence that we can have on the rest of the world is through peace, diplomacy, and through commerce. I want to replace gunboat diplomacy with diplomacy through commerce.”

  “Do you remember saying that, Mr. President?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you meant it, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “What that really means, sir, is that you would like to do away with the military and replace it strictly with commerce, correct?”

  “No. That means what it says.”

  “You are critical of the United States in the past when we attempted to influence other countries through the presence of the military, isn’t that right?”

  “You would have to be more specific. There are certain things that I would criticize, and others I might not.”

  “What about Vietnam?”

  The President breathed deeply. “I think our involvement in Vietnam was ill-advised.”

  “From the start?”

  “From the start. Any basic review of the history of France in Southeast Asia should have alerted us to the quagmire that lay ahead. It was a bad idea that went sour.”

  “What about Korea?”

  “I don’t know what I would have done about Korea.”

  “What about World War II, Mr. President?” Dillon asked, pressing. “Should the United States have sent troops to help fight the war in Europe? Should the United States have fought back after Japan attacked?”

  “I think the United States caused Japan to be in such an untenable situation by the sanctions placed upon it that Japan felt it had no alternative. I would have approached it very differently.”

  “What about Germany? Germany declared war on the United States without any attack by us. Are you saying that the United States should not have fought Germany?”

  “Germany did not attack the United States.”

  “But Germany declared war, Mr. President. Should the United States have fought?”

  “I think it could have been avoided. There are diplomatic and other steps that could have been taken much earlier than they were that might have avoided the European war altogether.”

  “I understand that. I’m not asking you if history could have been different. The question is, once war was declared on the United States, is it your testimony, under oath, before this Senate, that the United States should not have fought Germany in World War Two?”

  “It is my testimony, sir, that the United States did not have to fight Germany and it could have been avoided.”

  “But once Germany declared war, should we have fought back?”

  “It wasn’t a matter of fighting back. Germany did not attack the United States. We sent troops to Africa and Europe to attack Germany.”

  Dillon grew frustrated. “Let me show you another speech, Mr. President.”

  Dillon again passed his light-pen across a bar code and a video clip of the President speaking came on the monitors. “This is from your speech of October twelfth to the American Association of Manufacturers. Do you remember that speech?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  They watched Manchester on the monitors. “ ‘I think it is time that America stop using its military to influence other countries to be our friends, but instead use commerce, mutually supportive, to achieve that end …’ Is that an accurate quote from your speech?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “You do not believe in using the military to show the flag around the world.”

  “I don’t think it is an effective tool to convey the message that I want to convey, which is one of peace and commerce.”

  “Mr. President, there are a lot of other documents and speeches that I can walk you through. I have read every speech you have given as a politician—”

  Potts stood. “We don’t need to hear what Mr. Dillon has done,” he said. “If he has a question, I’d request that he ask it.”

  “Overruled, Mr. Potts. I think we’re getting to the crux of the matter.”

  “You’ve never employed,” Dillon said, raising his voice, “the American military in such a way that called for them to fight any other force of any kind. Correct?”

  “I think that’s right.”

  Dillon thought he was finally making progress. “And you had several opportunities to so employ troops, did you not?”

  “I suppose one could pick fights in many instances.”

  “So you admit there were times when you had the opportunity to employ the military of the United States to defend or protect whatever interests were at stake, correct?”

  “I’m not sure I’d phrase it that way, but I think I understand what you’re getting at, and the answer is that there were such opportunities, and no I did not do it.”

  “And, Mr. President, the thing which started all this, the reason we’re here, was the attack on the Pacific Flyer in the Java Sea by pirates. Do you remember that event?”

  “Of course.”

  “American citizens were attacked and murdered, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you didn’t do anything about it, did you?”

  “I did a lot about it.”

  “You did not employ the American military at all, did you?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  Whispering could be heard around the gallery and in the Senate chamber. Dillon raised his head as if he’d been slapped. “You employed the U.S. military?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  Dillon stared at President Manchester, his breathing shallow and quick. “Would you please explain to the members of the Senate and the
rest of the world, how you employed the military to stop that attack.”

  Manchester picked up the water pitcher next to him on the stand. “Would you mind if I poured myself a small glass of water?”

  “Not at all, please help yourself,” Dillon said, waiting.

  Manchester’s steady hand poured the water slowly. He set the pitcher down and took a short drink. He was completely in control. He went on in a low tone, which made those straining to hear listen even harder. “When the attack initially occurred, we had a battle group within five hundred miles, I believe. I ordered the battle group west toward the site of the attack.”

  Dillon almost laughed. “And that’s all you did, isn’t it, Mr. President,” he asked quietly. “You sent a ship westward toward an event, correct?”

  “No, not at all. As soon as they got within launching range, I had them launch a group of Navy SEALs, the special forces with which I’m sure you’re familiar, and told them to free the men being held captive on the Pacific Flyer. And they did just that. The entire detachment of SEALs landed on the Pacific Flyer within a few hours after we heard about the incident.”

  “And you ordered them to go after the terrorists at the time?”

  “Yes, I did,” the President said almost smugly.

  Dillon was stunned at first, then remembered his conversation with Lieutenant Jody Armstrong. “President Manchester, isn’t it true that the order you issued the Navy SEALs from the USS Wasp read that they were to incur no casualties?”

  “I don’t think that’s what it said.”

  “The actual wording was that there were to be ‘no casualties.’ Correct?”

  “I think we made it clear that we did not want there to be any casualties.”

  “So you sent Navy SEALs aboard a ship full of armed men with the instruction that they were to get twenty-six hostages off and have no casualties on either side, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  Dillon fought to keep a smile off his face. “It’s difficult to issue orders as unrealistic as that, isn’t it, Mr. President?”

  “I’m not sure I follow you.”

  “Well, that’s very unrealistic, isn’t it?”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  “You thought that Navy SEALs with their commando training would go aboard a ship that had been taken hostage and free twenty-six Americans in broad daylight without causing or incurring any casualties?”

  “That’s what I expected.”

  Dillon studied the President’s face. “And you thought they would be able to do that?”

  “Certainly. They’re a very talented group of men.”

  “So you did not employ force in any meaningful way by those SEALs? You expected them to not use force at all? Correct?”

  “That was my expectation,” Manchester said.

  “As I was saying before, Mr. President, in all the things that I’ve reviewed, many of which I have here, that I can show you and walk through sequentially, I could find no example at any time of any statement by you where you said that you would in fact deploy the United States military if it was called for. Can you point me to any such statement that you’ve ever made?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember everything I’ve said in a political realm.”

  “I understand that,” Dillon said. “And I wouldn’t ask you to try to remember everything. My question is, can you remember offhand any statement you’ve ever made in public, of which there is some record, that you would employ the U.S. military if the circumstances called for it?”

  “I don’t remember using such words. But I can’t be asked to remember all my speeches.”

  “Well then, let’s ask the question directly,” Dillon said, swallowing. “Are you willing to employ the American military under any circumstances?”

  “As I said before, Mr. Dillon, I don’t answer hypothetical questions.”

  “That answer is insincere.”

  Potts rose to object. “We don’t need his characterization of the President’s answers—”

  “Sustained,” Chief Justice Ross said. “Mr. Dillon, please refrain from giving us your interpretation of the answer.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Chief Justice.” Then to the President, “You do believe that certain things are right or wrong, do you not?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you believe as a politician that certain things are good or bad and that certain things should be done as a matter of principle and others not?”

  “Of course.”

  “You would agree for example that as a general concept, helping the poor might be a good thing, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “You don’t need to tell me for example that it would depend on the circumstances as to whether helping the poor is a good thing or a bad thing?”

  “It might very well depend on the circumstances as to whether a particular ‘help’ was in fact a ‘help.’ ”

  “I understand that. But in terms of principle, you can say that you would do certain things and not others. Correct?”

  “In general, I suppose so, yes.”

  “And that’s the idea of a campaign, isn’t it, Mr. President? That you tell people what your principles and ideas and objectives are so that the people of the United States can vote based on that. Because obviously when you’re running for President, you’re not yet facing the decisions you have to make. You have to indicate to the people what your decisions are likely to be in the future, don’t you agree with that?”

  “Yes, I actually do.”

  “Then why is it that you can’t tell us as a manner of principle whether you’re willing to employ the defenses that are at your command?”

  “I’ve already answered that.”

  “Would you employ the Peace Corps?”

  “I’m not following you.”

  “The Peace Corps is at your command. It is part of the United States government. Are you willing to employ them, or does that also ‘depend on the circumstances?’ ”

  “I don’t think others await our intentions before determining their initial plans, based on the Peace Corps. Defense is different.”

  “I appreciate it is different. Let me ask you again, would you employ the United States military under any circumstances that you can imagine?”

  “I think there would be times, yes.”

  Dillon raised his eyebrows. “Like when?”

  “Oh, in the evacuation of people after disasters, like in the Philippines. As peacekeeping forces in various places, those kinds of things.”

  “And times where they would be required to fight?”

  “It would depend on the circumstances.”

  “You’re unwilling to answer for the American people the simple question of whether you are a pacifist, aren’t you?”

  The entire country waited, anticipating the President’s answer. He looked at Dillon and sat up taller. “What I am, Mr. Dillon, is a person who dislikes war. Perhaps even hates war. I hope you feel the same. But I need to answer your questions directly, Mr. Dillon. This has gone on long enough.”

  Dillon gripped the podium.

  “I am not a pacifist,” Manchester said directly. “I never said I was. This started because you and your boss, the Speaker of the House, decided to push an issue that didn’t even exist. I didn’t deny it, because I did believe in nonviolence in my youth. I had heard and read of Gandhi, of course. But most recently I had seen the nonviolence of Martin Luther King, Jr., and the civil rights movement. As I grew older, I realized on a national level, in foreign affairs, such an approach was probably unworkable. By then I had left the Mennonite Church and was no longer following their doctrine of nonresistance. You asked me whether I had taken the oath of office as President. I told you I had. A Mennonite would never take that oath. He would make an affirmation. Article Twenty of the Mennonite Confession tells Mennonites to avoid oaths. In fact,” Manchester said with a slight smile, “with your attention to detail, you should have known
that. But I don’t mind. I think it’s time that we as a country had this discussion. That’s why I was willing to go through this.”

  Dillon was sweating. “Then why—”

  Manchester put up his hand. “Because our country is losing sight of where the authority to use power comes from. Power is the proper use of force. Force without justification is just violence.” Manchester looked around at the senators. “We need to consider whether the use of force is ever justified. I’m sure many people were wondering whether I would ever use force. That is a good question to ask of anyone. What if instead of me sitting here it was Martin Luther King, Jr.? What if he had brought the tactics of the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee to this office? Would we have told him he was unqualified?” He waited for the idea to sink in. “Frankly, Mr. Dillon, if it weren’t for Dr. Martin Luther King and his nonviolence, we might still be a segregated country. Could such an approach work in the international arena? I don’t think so. But I, for one, think Dr. Martin Luther King and others like him should not be automatically disqualified from ever holding the office.”

  Dillon hesitated. His mind was racing.

  Manchester waited for another question, then spoke. “Are you familiar with Michelangelo?”

  “The artist?” Dillon asked, not sure what else to say.

  “Yes. Perhaps you’re aware that one of his earliest pieces was of Hercules. Unfortunately, it has been lost. But there are many people from his day who wrote about it. They described its tremendous power and strength. We can only imagine how powerful it was. Think of a figure of the strength shown in his Moses, for example. But those who comment on it go on to remark on the face Michelangelo gave Hercules. Unlike the Greek statues of Hercules, Michelangelo’s Hercules has a face of grace and kindness. That’s how I see America, Mr. Dillon: The most powerful country in the history of the world, with muscles every bit as powerful as those of Hercules. But unless we have a face like Michelangelo’s Hercules, we are just a bully.