First Among Equals

by Jeffrey Archer

  Question time that day had been allocated to Welsh Affairs, so the Chamber itself did not start filling up until nearly three-fifteen although the Palace of Westminster was already packed and buzzing with each new snippet of information. Political correspondents waited hawklike in the Members’ Lobby seeking opinions on the crisis from any senior politicians as they passed to and from the Chamber. Few were rash enough to say anything that might be reinterpreted the next day.

  When Andrew came into the Chamber he took his seat next to David Owen on the Opposition front bench below the gangway Since Andrew had the overall responsibility for the Alliance Defense portfolio he was expected to represent the other twenty-two Alliance members. At three-twenty-seven the Prime Minister, followed by the Foreign Secretary and the Secretary of State for Defense, filed into the House and took their places on the Treasury bench. All three looked suitably somber. The last two questions on Welsh Affairs had the largest audience of members since the Aberfan disaster of 1966.

  At three-thirty Mr. Speaker Weatherill rose and called for order.

  “Statements to the House,” he announced in his crisp, military style. “There will be two statements on HMS Broadsword before the House debates Welsh Affairs.” The Speaker then called the Secretary of State for Defense.

  Simon Kerslake rose from the front bench and placed a prepared statement on the dispatch box in front of him.

  “Mr. Speaker, with your permission and that of the House, I would like to make a statement concerning Her Majesty’s frigate Broadsword. At seven-forty GMT this morning HMS Broadsword was passing through the Gulf of Surt between Tunis and Benghazi when a group of guerillas, posing as official coast guards, boarded the ship and seized the officer in command, Captain Lawrence Packard, and placed the crew under arrest. The captain and his company did everything possible to resist but were outnumbered three to one. The guerillas, claiming to represent the People’s Liberation Army, have since placed Captain Packard and the crew in the engine room of the ship. As far as it is possible to ascertain from our Embassy in Tripoli no lives have been lost, although Captain Packard sustained severe injuries during the battle, and we cannot be certain of his fate. There is no suggestion that Broadsword was doing anything other than going about her lawful business. This barbaric act must be looked upon as piracy under the 1958 Geneva Convention on the High Seas. The guerillas are demanding the release of all Libyan prisoners in British prisons in exchange for the return of HMS Broadsword and her crew. My Right Honorable friend, the Home Secretary, informs me there are only nine known Libyans in British jails at the present time, two of whom have been sentenced to three months for persistent shoplifting, two who were convicted on more serious drug charges, and the five who tried to hijack a British Airways 747 last year. Her Majesty’s Government cannot and will not interfere with the due process of law and has no intention of releasing any of these men.”

  Loud “Hear, hears,” came from all sections of the House.

  “My Right Honorable friend, the Foreign Secretary, has made Her Majesty’s Government’s position clear to the Libyan Ambassador, in particular that Her Majesty’s Government cannot be expected to tolerate this sort of treatment of British subjects or of British property. We have demanded and expect immediate action from the Libyan Government.”

  Simon sat down to loud and prolonged cheers before the leader of the Opposition rose from his place to say that he would wish it to be known that the Opposition gave the Govemment their full backing. He asked if any plans had been formulated at this early stage for the recovery of Broadsword.

  Simon rose again. “We are, Mr. Speaker, at present seeking a diplomatic solution, but I have already chaired a meeting of the Joint Chiefs and I anticipate making a further statement to the House tomorrow.”

  “Mr. Andrew Fraser,” said the Speaker.

  Andrew rose from his place. “May I inform the Right Honorable Gentleman that we in the Alliance also concur with his views that this is an act of piracy. But can he tell the House how long he will allow negotiations to continue when it is well known throughout the diplomatic world that Gaddafi is a master of procrastination, especially if we were to rely on the United Nations to adjudicate on this issue?” From the noise that greeted Andrew’s question it seemed that his views were shared by the majority of the House.

  Simon rose to answer the question. “I accept the point the Honorable Gentleman is making but he will know, having been a Minister of State for Defense himself, that I am not in a position to divulge any information which might imperil the safety of Broadsword.”

  Question after question came at Simon. He handled them with such confidence that visitors to the Strangers Gallery would have found it hard to believe that he had been invited to join the Cabinet only five weeks before.

  At four-fifteen, after Simon had answered the last question the Speaker was going to allow, he sank back on the front bench to listen to the statement from the Foreign Office. The House fell silent once again as the Foreign Secretary rose from his place and checked the large double-spaced sheets in front of him. All eyes were now on the tall, elegant man who was making his first official statement since his appointment.

  “Mr. Speaker, with your permission and that of the House, I too would like to make a statement concerning HMS Broadsword. Once news had reached the Foreign Office this morning of the plight of Her Majesty’s ship Broadsmord my office immediately issued a strongly worded statement to the Government of Libya. The Libyan Ambassador has been called to the Foreign Office and I shall be seeing him again immediately this statement and the questions arising from it has been completed.”

  Raymond looked up at the Strangers’ Gallery from his place on the Opposition front bench. It was one of the ironies of modern diplomacy that the Libyan Ambassador was sitting in the gallery making notes while the Foreign Secretary delivered his statement. He couldn’t imagine Colonel Gaddafi inviting the British Ambassador to take notes while he sat in his tent addressing his followers. Raymond was pleased to see an attendant ask the ambassador to stop writing; the prohibition dated from the time when the House had jealously guarded its privacy. Raymond’s eyes dropped back to the front bench, and he continued to listen to Charles Seymour.

  “Our ambassador to the United Nations has tabled a resolution to be debated by the General Assembly this afternoon, asking representatives to back Britain against this flagrant violation of the 1958 Geneva Convention on the High Seas. I confidently expect the support of the free world over this act of piracy against Her Majesty’s ship Broadsword. Her Majesty’s Government will do everything in its power to ensure a diplomatic solution bearing in mind that the lives of 217 British servicemen are still at risk.”

  The leader of the Opposition rose for a second time and asked at what point the Foreign Secretary would consider once again breaking off diplomatic relations with Libya.

  “I naturally hope it will not come to that, Mr. Speaker, and I expect the Libyan Government to deal quickly with their own mercenaries.”

  Charles continued to answer questions from all sections of the House but could only repeat that there was little new intelligence to offer the House at the present time. Raymond watched his two contemporaries as they displayed over twenty years of parliamentary skill in presenting their case. He wondered if this episode would make one of them Mrs. Thatcher’s obvious successor.

  At four-thirty, the Speaker, realizing nothing original had been said for some time, announced that he would allow one further question from each side before returning to the business of the day. He shrewdly called Alec Pimkin who sounded to Raymond like “the very model of a modern major-general” and then Tom Carson who suggested that Colonel Gaddafi was often grossly misrepresented by the British press. Once Carson had sat down, Mr. Speaker found it easy to move on to other business.

  The Speaker rose again and thanked the Honorable Gentleman, the member for Edinburgh Carlton, for his courtesy in informing him that he would be making an appl
ication under standing order number ten for an emergency debate. The Speaker said he had given the matter careful thought but he reminded the House that, under the terms of the standing order, he did not need to divulge the reasons for his decision, merely decide whether the matter should have precedence over the orders of the day. He ruled that the matter was not proper for discussion within the terms of standing order number ten.

  Andrew rose to protest but as the Speaker remained standing he had to resume his seat.

  “This does not mean, however,” continued Mr. Speaker, “that I would not reconsider such a request at a later date.”

  Andrew realized that Charles Seymour and Simon Kerslake must have pleaded for more time, but he was only going to allow them twenty-four hours. The clerk at the table rose and bellowed above the noise of members leaving the Chamber, “Adjournment.” The Speaker called the Secretary of State for Wales to move the adjournment motion on the problems facing the Welsh mining industry. The Chamber emptied of all but the thirty-eight Welsh MPs who had been waiting weeks for a full debate on the Principality’s affairs.

  Andrew went straight to his office and tried to piece together the latest information from news bulletins before preparing himself for a full debate the following day. Simon made his way back to the Ministry of Defense to continue discussions with the Joint Chiefs of Staff, while Charles was driven quickly to the Foreign Office.

  When Charles reached his room, he was told by the Permanent Under-Secretary that the Libyan Ambassador awaited him.

  “Does he have anything new to tell us?” asked Charles.

  “Frankly, nothing; it seems that we’re not the only people who are unable to make any contact with Colonel Gaddafi.”

  “Send him in then.”

  Charles stubbed out his cigarette and stood by the mantelpiece below a portrait of Palmerston. Charles had never met the ambassador before, largely because he had taken over at the Foreign Office only five weeks previously.

  When Mr. Kadir, the five-foot-one, dark-haired, immaculately dressed Ambassador for Libya entered the room, the office resembled nothing so much as a study in which a headmaster was about to tick off an unruly boy from the lower fifth.

  Charles was momentarily taken aback when he noticed the ambassador’s old Etonian tie. He recovered quickly.

  “Foreign Secretary?” began Mr. Kadir.

  “Her Majesty’s Government wishes to make it abundantly clear to your Government,” began Charles, not allowing the ambassador to complete his sentiments, “that we consider the act of boarding and holding Her Majesty’s ship Brosdsword against her will as one of piracy on the high seas.”

  “May I say—?” began Mr. Kadir.

  “No, you may not,” said Charles, “and until our ship has been released, we shall do everything in our power to bring pressure, both diplomatic and economic, on your Government.”

  “But may I just say—?” Mr. Kadir tried again.

  “My Prime Minister also wants you to know that she wishes to speak to your Head of State at the soonest possible opportunity, so I shall expect to hear back from you within the hour.”

  “Yes, Foreign Secretary, but may I—”

  “And you may further report that we will reserve our right to take any action we deem appropriate if you fail to secure the release into safe custody of HMS Broadsword and her crew by twelve noon tomorrow, GMT. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Foreign Secretary, but I would like to ask—”

  “Good day, Mr. Kadir.”

  After the Libyan Ambassador was shown out Charles couldn’t help wondering what it was he had wanted to know.

  “What do we do now?” he asked when the Permanent Under-Secretary returned, having deposited Mr. Kadir in the lift.

  “We act out the oldest diplomatic game in the world.”

  “What do you mean?” said Charles.

  “Our sit-and-wait policy. We’re awfully good at it,” said the Permanent Under-Secretary, “but then we’ve been at it for nearly a thousand years.”

  “Well, while we sit let’s at least make some phone calls. I’ll start with Secretary of State Kirkpatrick in Washington and then I’d like to speak to Gromyko in Moscow.”

  When Simon arrived back at the Ministry of Defense from the Commons he was told that the Joint Chiefs were assembled in his office waiting for him to chair the next strategy meeting. As he entered the room to take his place at the head of the table the Joint Chiefs rose.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Simon said. “Please be seated. Can you bring me up to date on the latest situation, Sir John?”

  Admiral Sir John Fieldhouse, Chief of the Defense Staff, pushed up the half-moon glasses from the end of his nose and checked the notes in front of him.

  “Very little has changed in the last hour, sir,” he began. “The Prime Minister’s office has still had no success in contacting Colonel Gaddafi. I fear we must now treat the capture of Broadsword as a blatant act of terrorism, rather similar to the occupation seven years ago of the American Embassy in Iran by students who backed the late Ayatollah Khomeini. In such circumstances we can either ‘jaw-jaw or war-war,’ to quote Churchill. With that in mind, this committee will have formed a detailed plan by the early evening for the recapture of HMS Broadsword, as we assume the Foreign Office are better qualified to prepare for jaw-jaw.” Sir John replaced his glasses and looked toward his minister.

  “Are you in a position to give me a provisional plan which I could place in front of the Cabinet for their consideration?”

  “Certainly, Minister,” said Sir John, removing his glasses again before opening a large blue file in front of him.

  Simon listened intently as Sir John went over his provisional strategy. Around the table sat eight of the senior ranking staff officers of the Army, Navy, and Air Force, and even the first draft plan bore the stamp of their 300 years of military experience. He couldn’t help remembering that his call-up status was still that of a Second Lieutenant. For an hour he asked the Joint Chiefs questions that ranged from the elementary to ones that demonstrated a clear insight into their problems. By the time Simon left the room to attend the Cabinet meeting at No. 10 the Joint Chiefs were already updating their plan.

  Simon walked slowly across Whitehall from the Department of Defense to Downing Street, his private detective by his side. Downing Street was thronged with people curious to see the comings and goings of ministers involved in the crisis. Simon was touched that the crowd applauded him all the way to the front door of No. 10, where the journalists and TV crews awaited each arrival. The great television arc lights were switched on as he reached the door and a microphone was thrust in front of him, but he made no comment. Simon was surprised by how many of the normally cynical journalists called out, “Good luck” and “Bring our boys home.”

  The front door opened and he went straight through to the corridor outside the Cabinet room, where twenty-two of his colleagues were already waiting. A moment later the Prime Minister walked into the Cabinet room and took her seat in the center of the table with Charles and Simon opposite her.

  Mrs. Thatcher began by telling her colleagues that she had been unable to make any contact with Colonel Gaddafi and that they must therefore decide on a course of action that did not involve his acquiescence. She invited the Foreign Secretary to brief the Cabinet first.

  Charles went over the actions in which the Foreign Office was involved at the diplomatic level. He reported his meeting with Ambassador Kadir, and the resolution which had been tabled at the UN and was already being debated at an emergency session of the General Assembly. The purpose of asking the United Nations to back Britain on Resolution 12/40, he said, was to gain the diplomatic initiative and virtually guarantee international sympathy. Charles went on to tell the Cabinet that he expected a vote to take place in the General Assembly in New York that evening which would demonstrate overwhelming support for the United Kingdom’s resolution, and which would be regarded as a moral victory b
y the whole world. He was delighted to be able to report to the Cabinet that the Foreign Ministers of both the United States and Russia had agreed to back the UK in her diplomatic endeavors as long as she launched no retaliatory action. Charles ended by reminding his colleagues of the importance of treating the whole affair as an act of piracy, rather than an injury at the hands of the Libyan Government itself.

  A legal nicety, thought Simon as he watched the faces of his colleagues round the table. They were obviously impressed that Charles had brought the two super powers together in support of Britain. The Prime Minister’s face remained inscrutable. She called upon Simon to air his views.

  He was able to report that Broadsword had, since the last meeting of the Cabinet, been towed into the Bay of Surt and moored; there was no hope of boarding her except by sea. Captain Packard and his crew of 216 remained under close arrest in the engine room on the lower deck of the ship. From confirmed reports Simon had received in the last hour it appeared that the ship’s company were bound, gagged, and that the ventilation systems had been turned off. “Captain Packard,” he informed the House, “had refused to cooperate with the guerillas in any way, and we remain unsure of his fate.” He paused. “I therefore suggest,” Simon continued, “that we have no choice but to mount a rescue operation in order to avoid a protracted negotiation that can only end in grave loss of morale for the entire armed forces. The longer we put off such a decision the harder our task will become. The Joint Chiefs are putting the final touches to a plan code-named ‘Shoplifter’ which they feel must be carried out in the next forty-eight hours, if the men and the ship are to be saved.” Simon added that he hoped diplomatic channels would be kept open while the operation was being worked out, in order that the rescue team could be assured of the greatest element of surprise.

  “But what if your plan fails?” interrupted Charles. “We would risk losing not only Broadsword and her crew but also the goodwill of the free world.”