Promise of Joy

by Allen Drury

  He turned directly to Lin and Shulatov.

  “Will you do that?”

  He paused and waited, and for a long moment, while the tension rose to a level almost unbearable, no one in the room spoke or stirred. Shulatov remained expressionless, turned away from the table, rigid and unyielding. Lin stared straight ahead, blank and impassive. The moment lengthened.

  “Very well,” he said quietly. “Mr. President, I renew my request for a vote on the resolution.”

  “Yes,” Australia said promptly. “On this roll call the voting will start with Lesotho. The Secretary-General will call the—”

  But here attrition set in, and although he knew he would fight it to the end, the President of the United States of America also knew that in all probability he was beaten before he began.

  Time had run out and the gallant dream of saving mankind by relying on its sanity was over.

  “Mr. President,” Raoul Barre said, clearing his throat with a precise and delicate sound, “if the government of France might be permitted a comment?”

  “Certainly,” Australia said, his expression showing that he and Orrin were thinking the same thing.

  “Thank you,” Raoul said with a little smile. “I promise I shall be brief.

  “Mr. President, we are faced with what appears to be an insoluble impasse, a direct confrontation between the desires of the world for peace and the desires of the governments of China and Russia for the recognition of their sovereign independence and their right to be consulted without coercion or threat. These are the things we all wish to retain, as sovereign governments. We cannot, I submit, be too unsympathetic toward these desires nor too arbitrary in our dismissal of them.

  “To do so,” he said, while both Lin and Shulatov began subtly but unmistakably to relax, “would be to set a precedent which perhaps might come back someday to haunt any one or all of us. We must be careful about that.

  “Mr. President”—he gave Orrin a direct, gracious little bow—“the world can never be grateful enough for the magnificent effort you have made in its behalf over these past ten days. You have traveled many, many thousands of miles, conducted detailed and exhausting conversations, sought with all the resources of a courageous heart and a supremely intelligent mind to bring about an end to the war between Russia and China and a start upon that era of permanent universal peace which men and women everywhere desire with all their beings. We cannot thank you enough for that.

  “But, now, my colleagues of the Council, it may be that the time for what might be termed such—such”—he hesitated delicately—“crisis diplomacy—is over. It may be that the time has come to discuss and to reason, to abandon arbitrary demands or commands, to consider the finding of a middle path between the understandable desires of the governments of Russia and China to be treated as what they are, sovereign powers, and the possibly somewhat”—again he made a delicately regretful gesture—“overly emphatic, shall we say, approach of the world’s leading citizen, the President of the United States of America.

  “In that effort to find a middle path,” he concluded blandly, “the government of France, as always, stands ready to offer its good services and friendly counsel.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Bill Abbott whispered to Orrin. “Wouldn’t you know!”

  “Every time,” Orrin agreed somberly. “Every time.”

  “Do you want me to reply to him?” the ex-President asked.

  “Sure,” the President said. “Why don’t you?”

  “Mr. President!” William Abbott said, raising his hand for recognition.

  “The distinguished delegate, the former President of the United States of America,” Australia said, and again the intent and listening silence came.

  “Mr. President,” Bill Abbott said, his tone only a little sardonic, “I think I speak on behalf of the American people, whom we represent here, when I thank the distinguished delegate of France for his kind words regarding President Knox. We are glad he appreciates the very extensive and exhausting hard work the President has done in the past ten days for the people of the world, in attempting to end the war between Russia and China and in attempting to erect the foundations of permanent peace.

  “It is nice to know how warmly France supports him in that effort.

  “In his zeal to find the ‘middle path’ he talks about, however, it appears to my delegation that the French Ambassador may be treating just a shade too gently the arbitrary and uncooperative attitudes of the new governments of Russia and China—particularly the government of Russia. You will recall, because you have all read the transcripts, that the new government of Russia from the beginning was opposed to any concessions to world needs in the way of disarmament and universal peace-keeping. Indeed, it has refused to allow even a purely humanitarian effort, the International Relief Commission, to move freely within its borders to do the enormous work of human rehabilitation which is still untouched in the war zone and in the cities devastated by the atomic exchange. And incidentally, let’s don’t forget that’s what we’re discussing here—atomic exchange. It happened two weeks ago, and we are dealing here with the dreadful potential that at any second it can happen again. Let’s don’t forget that.…

  “The new government of China, it must be remembered, took at least a first step toward cooperation. The idea of meeting in Geneva to start work on the details of disarmament came from the distinguished delegate who sits at this very table, the President of the United Chinese Republic. Whatever his position here today, he did make the original offer, Mr. President. He withdrew it only when it became clear that the President of the United States of Russia intended to reject out of hand the whole idea. Some tolerance must be accorded President Lin for that. Equally, condemnation must lie where it belongs, with President Shulatov.

  “Presently, however, both appear to be defying the will of the United Nations and the earnest, one could say almost frantic, desire of the world’s peoples for peace. So they must be on an equal footing as regards the resolution introduced by my delegation—although in its operations later, perhaps, the world might again remember, with gratitude, the initial good will of President Lin.…”

  (“How to separate two dogs who both hate cats,” The London Times whispered. “A nice trick,” The New York Times agreed. “If you can do it.”)

  “So, then,” William Abbott said, “we return to the resolution and what should be done by the world in the immediate situation. The United Nations is faced by open defiance of its will. The war is not ended, only suspended.

  “Casualty reports are still coming in and it now appears that upward of thirty million are dead or dreadfully wounded. Many cities lie devastated. Typhus, plague and other war-borne diseases are racing across the face of middle Asia. At any moment, as I said, it can all erupt again. Is there time, I ask the Council, for the delicate ‘middle path’ diplomacy advocated by our friend from France?

  “I do not think so, Mr. President. I do not think so. I think the stakes are too high, the gamble too terrible. We must move and move now to make very sure that the war will end and not break out again. We must guarantee by the massed weight of all the nations the cooperation and disarmament we cannot seem to secure by persuasion. The United States resolution, like the United States offer of cooperation, is very strong, and necessarily so. It seems to us, Mr. President, that the saving of the world both requires, and is worth, a few strong measures.”

  He sat back and the President murmured, “Good try, Bill.”

  “Yes,” William Abbott agreed grimly. “But they’re both too smart to answer when they have others to do their work for them.”

  And another hand went up and Lord Maudulayne said politely, “Mr. President?”

  “The distinguished delegate of the United Kingdom,” Australia said, and again the room was silent while Shulatov and Lin, both now much more openly at ease, looked blandly, for the first time, at the President of the United States of America.

  “Mr. President,�
�� the British Ambassador said, “Her Majesty’s government wish to associate themselves completely with the position taken by the government of France.”

  There was a sharp intake of breath from around the room.

  (“The landslide begins,” The New York Times said grimly. The London Times looked vaguely polite but said nothing.)

  “We, too,” Lord Maudulayne went on, “gladly render to President Knox the great tribute which all nations must accord him for his most gallant and valiant endeavor in the past ten days. It has been a supreme effort on behalf of all mankind, and nothing can ever take away from him the honor and gratitude which will forever be his.

  “But, Mr. President”—his tone, too, became politely regretful—“it is with considerable sadness that we say that we cannot follow him now. We, too, believe that the hour has come for gentler and more friendly methods. We believe that the new government of China has indeed, as President Abbott reminds us, given proof of a basic willingness to cooperate; and we feel that if a similar willingness can be elicited from the new government of Russia, we will be well on our way to a constructive—and peaceful—solution of the world’s problems.

  “It is our belief that the United Nations, far from offering the two governments the mailed fist on an or-else basis, should instead offer its good offices to provide the atmosphere in which such a voluntary agreement can be reached. We believe the two governments clearly understand the anxiety of the world and its earnest desire that they end the war, become friends and so provide a firm foundation for universal peace.

  “We believe the world can then begin work on the noble objective of a general and very substantial disarmament, to which Her Majesty’s government has always given their most earnest adherence.

  “My government, too, Mr. President, like the government of France, wish to offer their good offices in achieving all these results so greatly to be desired; and accordingly Her Majesty’s government, in equal partnership, good faith and good will with the government of France, offer this resolution which I send to the desk and ask the Secretary-General to read.”

  And while a youthful member of his staff walked around the circle to hand the paper to the Secretary-General, he smiled in a kindly way at Orrin and Bill Abbott, as though he might have been seeing them at one of Lady Kitty’s teas. The President and ex-President smiled somewhat grimly back.

  “Be it resolved,” the Secretary-General read in his gravely beautiful voice, “that the resolution of the United States of America be amended as follows:

  “Strike all after the first four paragraphs and substitute the language herein subsequent, so that the resolution in final form will read:

  “‘Whereas, it is imperative for the peace and safety of the population of Earth that the present conflict between Russia and China be speedily ended, and that there be no more war; and,

  “‘Whereas, the United Nations has established an International Peace Force to achieve these purposes; and,

  “‘Whereas, the United States of America has voluntarily offered to undertake an immediate disarmament program to reduce its armed forces to a defense-force level and contribute to the International Peace Force all funds, troops and matériel which the United Nations command may require for the successful completion of its purposes in China and Russia and its permanent mission of peace; and,

  “‘Whereas, the United States of America, acting on behalf of the United Nations, has approached the governments of the United States of Russia and the United Chinese Republic seeking their agreement to an equal disarmament; and,

  “‘Whereas’—and here, Mr. President,” the Secretary-General interpolated, “begins the new language—‘such agreement should be reached in an atmosphere of willing cooperation and amity if it is to be firm and lasting; and,

  ‘“Whereas, it is the duty of the United Nations to encourage and support such a willing, cooperative and friendly atmosphere with due regard and respect for the independence, sovereignty and legitimate self-interest of all the governments of the world:

  “‘Now, therefore, be it resolved:

  “‘That the United Nations hereby urges the convening of a world disarmament conference in Geneva, to begin one week from today, such conference to consist of all interested governments that may wish to send delegations; and further be it resolved:

  “‘That all governments that wish to participate should attend such disarmament conference in good faith and good will, with sincere determination to achieve an agreement that will both respect the independence, sovereignty and legitimate self-interest of all governments, and provide a firm and lasting foundation for universal peace; and further be it resolved:

  “‘That the operations of the International Peace Force should be conducted in the spirit of this resolution, with due respect for the independence, sovereignty and legitimate self-interest of the governments of the United States of Russia and the United Chinese Republic, and that the said governments are hereby urged to cooperate in sincerity, good will and good faith with the operations of the International Peace Force.’”

  The even, dispassionate voice of the Secretary-General stopped. Into the silence the President of the United States of America inquired with a blank surprise:

  “Is that all?”

  “That is all, Mr. President,” the Secretary-General said gravely.

  “The United States of America,” Orrin said, and there was an instant uneasy murmuring through the room at his tone, “would like to comment. I ask recognition for the distinguished Ambassador of the United States.”

  “With pleasure,” Australia said. At her microphone Ceil leaned forward, looking a little tense but otherwise perfectly composed.

  “Mr. President,” she said, “I am afraid that the amendment offered by the governments of the United Kingdom and France does not go to the heart of the matter. No doubt it is offered, as the distinguished Ambassador of the United Kingdom says, in ‘good faith and good will, with sincere determination to achieve an agreement,’ but after we have accepted that fine declaration of intent we must move on to find out exactly how it is to be achieved. The prospects as he outlines them, I am afraid, are bleak.

  “The world is confronted here, I suggest to the Council, not with good will, good faith and a sincere determination to reach agreement, but with stubbornness, hostility and an outright refusal to cooperate with the International Peace Force, a duly constituted arm of the United Nations, and a similar refusal to cooperate with a genuine attempt to secure universal disarmament. Why, then, must we bow to this kind of response? Why must we humble ourselves before it and use soft words? Why can we not have the courage to judge it for what it is, a blatant attempt to bluff the world into backing away from its imperative need for peace, so that these two governments may once more return to the old ways of hatred, mistrust, conquest and war?

  “I submit, Mr. President, that the governments of France and the United Kingdom are unwittingly playing the game of a new imperialism. They mean well, their desire that we all love one another is very nice, but let us face it: we don’t all love one another, and unless there is a strong, powerful, no-nonsense international force to step between us, then many of us will go on warring. And with a third of Asia already devastated by the atomic exchange, we simply cannot afford that any longer. It will mean the death of us all.

  “We must take strong and affirmative action to support the International Peace Force we have established. We must insist upon a genuine and very thorough disarmament of the major powers, and soon thereafter of all powers. We must face head on and unafraid exactly what confronts us at this moment in the world’s history.

  “President Knox has offered a tough resolution because these are tough times. The only way to survive them is to be tough. We most respectfully urge the Council to meet the challenge, defeat the amendment, support the resolution. Otherwise, in the estimation of my government, we are signing a sure ticket to disaster.”

  “Mr. President!” Krishna Khale
el cried quickly as she pushed away the microphone and sat back. “Mr. President, India wishes to be heard, if you please!”

  “Certainly,” Australia said with a certain sarcasm. “No one would deprive India of that privilege.”

  “Mr. President,” Krishna Khaleel said sternly, picking it up at once, “you may jest and be sarcastic, but this is serious business here. Rather serious business, I think!

  “My government, Mr. President, appreciates the good faith and serious intent of the governments of the United Kingdom and France. It also appreciates the good faith and serious intent of the government of the United States of America. And it understands and sympathizes with the concern and anxieties of the new governments of Russia and China.”

  (“That pretty well covers the field,” The New York Times murmured. “But wait,” The London Times advised. “Out of it all will come a synthesis uniquely Indian.”)

  “However,” K.K. said, and his tone became severe, “my government does not agree that the President of the United States of America, my dear old friend Orrin Knox, is approaching this in the right fashion. In fact, we are concerned that the record of the past ten days may indicate that he possibly has never approached it in the right fashion.

  “Oh, Mr. President!” he cried, as Orrin shot him a skeptical glance and stirred in his chair. “We appreciate his sincerity! We appreciate his honor! We appreciate his idealism! It is simply his methods we deplore!”

  Despite the gravity of the moment, there was a burst of genuine amusement, momentarily uniting them all. Even Lin and Shulatov condescended to smile.

  “What?” K.K. cried indignantly. “What, then, have I said something funny? Is it so jolly here that delegates can laugh and chortle at me amongst themselves? Is it a matter for fun-making of India, then, Mr. President, I demand to know!”

  “The delegate is advised,” Australia said, making himself suitably solemn, “that fun-making of India is the last thing anyone has in mind. Does he care to proceed, or shall we—”