Everywhere else, things had gone just about as wild as Joe Benton could have imagined.
It was almost disorientating, the chain reactions happening out there over which he had no control. Markets had plunged on the tone of confrontationalism in the president’s speech, then plunged further when the documents were released on the White House website and the economic implications of the Carbon Plan became apparent. Rumors were being reported and then denied of Chinese mobilization and the dispatch of American forces to the Pacific and of actual clashes between forces that were, in reality, thousands of miles apart. The Taiwan lobby was demanding an explicit statement that the United States would defend Taiwan from Chinese aggression. Leaders of the Chinese-American community in the United States called on the president to cease what they described as his vilification of China and remove the threat of sanctions. The AFL-CIO condemned the president’s action and said it would oppose any sanctions that cost Americans jobs. Every business and trade group in the country was issuing statements.
The U.S. media was divided. Overnight, it seemed, Joe Benton had become the darling of his political enemies on the right. They trumpeted his strong stance and his refusal to be sucked into the quagmire of multilateral negotiations. Simultaneously, he had lost his support in the liberal press, which castigated him for the very same actions. John Eales had the results of overnight polling that showed a similar shift among voters. Politically, Benton was moving into a dangerous position. The solutions he was offering, and particularly the additional government programs he would be proposing over the coming weeks to ease the pain of economic contraction, were going to set the right howling with rage. If he hadn’t recaptured the center and the left by then, he’d have no one backing him.
Kay Wilson, Don Bales, Cee Amadi and Val Birley had come in to see him. The movement of opinion mirrored what was happening in the media. Their conclusion was the same as that of Benton and his advisors—the risk was that over the next couple of months the president would get left with no substantial base of support. The president, Kay suggested, needed to speak to the Democratic Caucus, the sooner the better. He needed to launch a lobbying operation that would dwarf anything he had done so far. And he needed to get Angela Chavez, who was well regarded for her work on New Foundation in the spring, prominently involved.
Joe Benton also found time to speak to Marty Montag, the ex-senator whom he regarded, more than anyone, as his political mentor. Marty advised him that all he could do now was hold on while the dust settled. He had set his course and he would have to let the forces it unleashed play themselves out. But when Joe asked him what he thought about the course he had set, Marty’s response was evasive. He wasn’t privy to the full range of information. Joe pushed him again. He had never held executive power, said Montag, which was hardly an answer.
Few international leaders were prepared to talk with him. Throughout the day, Ben Hoffman’s team tried to set up calls. Prime Minister Nakamura of Japan agreed, and Benton spoke with him for twenty minutes. Nakamura wouldn’t commit to the Carbon Plan and managed to drop heavy hints about support on the Kurils against Russia. The president told Hoffman to keep trying to get to other leaders. Hugh Ogilvie, at least, would surely be prepared to have a conversation.
~ * ~
The president took the call in his study on the residence floor of the White House. It was six p.m. in Washington, eleven o’clock in London. Bill Price, one of the president’s political aides, was listening in to take notes.
“Hugh,” said Benton, when the British prime minister came online. “Good to talk with you.”
“Joe,” said Ogilvie. There was silence. Then Ogilvie laughed briefly. “That was quite a speech you made yesterday. One doesn’t quite know where to start.”
“I guess it must have come as a shock,” replied Benton cautiously.
“Well, it would have been nice to have been ... I won’t say consulted, because it’s clear that consultation isn’t uppermost in your mind. Let’s say it would have been nice to have been warned.”
“Would have loved to, Hugh. Just wasn’t possible.”
“Well, there we are.” Ogilvie sighed. “Look, I have to tell you— Secretary Olsen will be getting an official response, of course—but I have to tell you, Joe, I don’t think that was the best way to do things. I know you didn’t ask me, but I’m going to be blunt.”
“I respect your views, Hugh. Tell me why it wasn’t the best thing to do.”
“Right now you need allies, and you don’t keep your allies onside by blindsiding them. I think you’ve thrown away whatever international goodwill and credibility the United States had managed to recover for itself. After Iraq it took both our countries years to get that back, and with Colombia, I’m afraid President Shawcross threw a lot of it away again. But I have to say, Joe, now you’re looking like the biggest unilateralist of the lot.”
“You know I’m not a unilateralist.”
“I know you’re not,” replied Ogilvie. “That’s what makes this so depressing. Maybe there’s something about being the American president that would turn any person into a unilateralist.”
“Just hold on there, Hugh.”
“I’m sorry, Joe. But I’m . . . frankly, I’m shocked.”
“Well, I’m afraid I just couldn’t consult, Hugh, much as I wanted to. The situation didn’t allow it. It wouldn’t have worked.”
“You need allies, Joe. I’m saying this to you as the prime minister of the United Kingdom, which is the best friend the United States has. If I’m saying these things, imagine what everyone else is saying. Have you stopped to think what will happen if you get no support for this from anyone else? What will happen if you end up trying to go it alone?”
Joe Benton shook his head impatiently. He glanced at Bill Price. Price’s face was grim.
“Hugh, put yourself in my shoes. Something has to happen here. I’ve been trying to make it happen but that hasn’t worked. Now, what would you have done?”
“I would have used the mechanisms that are available.”
“Kyoto? We both agreed the very first time we met Kyoto’s a busted process.”
“Then set up your own international forum, for God’s sake, if nothing else will work. But to come along and lay down the law and say, here it is, here’s my Carbon Plan, take it or leave it. Well, I just—”
“That’s what we’ve all been doing for the last forty years. Forums. Channels.” Benton was exasperated. “Where’s it got us? Into this godawful mess! Have you seen the figures we released today? Have you seen them, Hugh?”
“Not yet. My people are still—”
“Well, you look at them. Look at them! And then tell me whether this isn’t the right thing to do!”
There was silence.
“Hugh. Listen to me. Much against my own will, it’s my honest judgment that this is the only way to get something to actually happen. And God knows we need that. We can’t just keep talking about it. And to your point, maybe that is why American presidents turn unilateralist in office. Maybe you’re right. Because everyone will just talk and talk until someone does something, and the only person who can do anything—the only ones with the credibility to do it—seems to be us.”
“That’s a very U.S.-centric way of looking at the world, if I may say so,” replied Ogilvie. “Reminds me of a certain attitude that was common during the days of the British Empire. White man’s burden, they used to call it.”
“I don’t think that’s fair, Hugh.”
“Granted, the parallel isn’t exact. Yet it’s not entirely inappropriate.”
“Hugh,” said Benton solemnly, “my number one, my number one absolute priority, is to deal with this issue. If that’s all I do as president, I’ll count myself a success. And I’d like to know, what’s wrong with that? It has to be dealt with. You look at the figures. Go look at them and come back and tell me something different.”
“I’m sure that’s true. But my fear, Joe, is that
by taking this step, you move yourself further away from achieving what you want. What we all want. After this, it’s just going to be all the harder for everyone to come back to the table.”
“Maybe you’re right. On the other hand, if I didn’t do this, I know I’d never succeed. So I guess it’s a gamble. It might not work, but it’s the only card I can play.”
“We differ there,” said Ogilvie.
“I guess we do.” The president paused. “Hugh, now that I’ve laid my cards on the table, I need help to make this gamble work.”
There was silence. Benton waited. Ogilvie didn’t take the cue.
“What are people saying?” asked Benton eventually. “Have you spoken with anyone?”
“Koslowski, Gorodin, Ingelbock, de Silva. Rumain wouldn’t talk. I think he wants to work up a full Gallic head of steam before he speaks to anyone.”
“Great. What did the others say?”
“They’re outraged. They say, even if the measures are sensible, the way you’ve done it makes it impossible for them to accept.”
“Yeah, right.” Benton glanced at Bill Price and rolled his eyes. “What about Gorodin? What did he say?”
“The same. Joe, what happens if they all say no? Are you going to apply sanctions to everybody? Are you going to shut down world trade? Do you have any idea what that will do to the global economy?”
“Well, I guess that’s one way to deal with emissions,” quipped Benton, and it was only half a joke.
“That’s funny,” said Ogilvie, without a hint of humor in his voice. “You’re the ones who’ll suffer more than anyone. Everyone else can still trade together even if you cut access to your market.”
“Only if no one joins us.”
“That’s what I’m trying to say!”
Benton knew he needed support. He knew it way better than Ogilvie. That’s what this call was about.
“Hugh, I know what effect these sanctions will have. I can send you a whole bunch of models my people have done and not one of them looks pretty. But that’s the point. That’s how important this is. That’s the size of what we’re facing. The effects of a global shutdown for a few months—if that’s what we have to go through —are only a fraction of what will happen in the longer term if we don’t get this thing dealt with. So maybe people will have to have a taste of that. And you know what, if they do, they do. That’s okay.”
“Maybe it’s okay for you.”
“We can’t think in the short term!” Benton knew what was on Ogilvie’s mind. As British prime minister, Ogilvie had discretion over when he called an election, but he couldn’t go more than another year now. It was common knowledge that he was intending to run in the spring. The last thing he needed was a global economic recession brought on by an American president with whom he had been notably friendly. “Hugh, that’s always been the problem. I will not think in the short term. And if that means I don’t get a second term, I don’t. If I get this done and the American people throw me out, I don’t care. I’ll have got it done. And you know, I’m sorry if that affects you. I really am. That’s not what I want, Hugh, but this is just too big.”
Ogilvie didn’t reply.
“I’m sorry, Hugh. I’m really sorry. But I can’t fit in with every electoral cycle in the world.”
“Of course not,” said Ogilvie quietly.
“So what are you going to do? Are you going to come on board?”
“My people haven’t had a chance yet to look at the proposals properly,” said Ogilvie.
“Fair enough. But they’re fair. They’re equitable. At the margins, of course, you can always quibble. And the United States will be taking pain. Believe me, we’ll be taking pain.”
“My people will have to look at them, Joe.”
Benton frowned. He needed support early. He needed a critical mass of countries to get behind him so he’d have momentum. The longer things drifted the harder it would be to get anyone else on board.
“We need someone to say yes, Hugh. I need someone to break out of the flock and say yes. I need someone to show leadership. Right now—not in a month’s time.” Benton waited, listening tensely for Ogilvie’s reply. Nothing came. He spoke again. He said it as plainly as he could short of begging. “Hugh, I need someone to be strong on this. This is a moment when the United States needs the United Kingdom. I’m telling it to you straight. Now’s the time. We need your support.”
There was silence again.
“My people haven’t had a chance to look at the proposals yet,” said Ogilvie plaintively.
Benton didn’t reply.
“Jesus Christ, Joe! It’s the way you’ve done it. Makes it so bloody hard.”
~ * ~
After the call, Price left. Benton stayed at his desk, working through a summary of international reaction that Larry Olsen had provided. When he looked up again, Amy was standing in the doorway.
“Hey, honey,” he said.
Amy didn’t come in.
Benton smiled. “Just got off the phone with the Prime Minister of Britain. I sure hate to see a grown man squirm.”
Amy watched him with angry, accusatory eyes. He hadn’t seen her since he gave the Carbon Plan speech. She’d had a whole day to brood on it, to talk with people, to hear what they were saying.
“What is it?”
Amy shook her head, almost trembling.
“Amy?”
“What have you done?” she said suddenly. “How could you do that? How could you say the things you said last night?”
“Amy, you heard my reasons. I have to do what I believe is best for this country—”
“Best? Best for this country?” demanded Amy. “You’re no better than Gartner. You’re no better than Bush! You’re George W. Bush!”
Joe Benton couldn’t quite keep the smile off his face. Amy hadn’t even been born when Bush was in office.
“Don’t look at me like that! You said you were going to be different, but you do exactly what everyone else does. Once you get your finger on the button, all you can think about is how you can use it.”
“What button?”
“What are people going to think? They’re going to think what they’ve always thought about America. We don’t listen, we don’t care. We make demands and if someone disagrees we nuke the hell out of them.”
“Amy, I don’t believe we’ve ever nuked the hell out of anyone because they didn’t agree to our demands.”
“All right, we attack them, then.”
“I haven’t said I’m going to attack anyone.”
“What about sanctions?”
“Amy, have you read the plan? It’s carefully—”
“Sanctions are an attack. And the worst kind of attack, an attack on poor people. Poor people are going to suffer because of your sanctions.”
“Not if their governments do the right thing.”
“But they won’t, will they? They never do. And who is it that suffers? Not the guys in the big mansions. Poor people. And you know that, Daddy. It’s like you’re taking the food out of their mouths with your own hand.”
“Amy, do you really think the guys in the mansions would do anything differently if I invited them all over here and asked them to sit down and help me come up with a solution?”
Amy stared at him.
“Do you really? I’m doing this for you and—”
“Don’t say that!”
“I’m doing it for you and Greg and every other person who’s going to be living on this planet long after I’m gone.”
Amy shook her head. “You don’t understand.”
Joe Benton got up. He started to come toward her. “What don’t I understand?”
“You make me ashamed to be an American!”
Benton stopped. “Amy, how can you say that? This should make you proud to be an American. Didn’t you hear what I said last night? This country is taking a lead. Finally, this country is living up to its responsibilities and showing the rest of the world how
they can as well.”
“This country is wielding a big frigging stick and beating the crap out of everyone else!”
Amy turned and headed down the corridor.
“Where are you going?” called the President.
“I’m going back to New York.”
“I thought you’d finished in New York.”
Ultimatum Page 40
