First Among Equals (35 page)

Staying near a
radio most of the morning, Raymond learned that HMS

Broadsword was
now in the hands of over a hundred guerrillas. They were demanding the freedom
of all Libyan prisoners in British jails in exchange for the two hundred and
seventeen-strong crew of the Broadsword, who were being held hostage in the
engine room.

By lunch time
the ticker-tape machine in the members’ corridor was surrounded by members with
craning necks, and the dining rooms were so full that many of them had to go
without lunch.

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.

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 her place on the
front bench. All three looked suitably somber.

At three-thirty
the Speaker 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
ftorn the ftont 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
guerrillas, posing as official coast guards, boarded the ship and seized her
captain, Commander Lawrence Packard, and placed the crew under arrest. The
guerriflas, claiming to represent the Libyan Peoples Army, have since placed
Commander 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.

There is no
suggestion that Broadsword was other than going about her lawful business. This
barbaric act must be looked upon as piracy under the 1958 336

Geneva Convention on the High Seas.
The guerrillas 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 four known Libyans in British prisons at
the present time, two of whom have been sentenced to three months for
persistent shoplifting, while the other two were convicted on more serious drug
charges. Her Majesty’s Government cannot and will not interfere with the due
process of law and has no intention of releasing 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 Raymond Gould rose from his place. The
House went silent as everyone wanted to discover what the Labour Party line
would be.

“Mr. Speaker,”
began Raymond, “we in the Labour Party also look upon this barbaric act as one
of piracy on the high seas. But can I ask the Secretary for Defense if he has
any plans 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.”

Raymond rose
again from his place on the front bench. “But can the Right Honorable Gentleman
tell the House how long he will allow negotiations to continue when it is well
known throughout the diplomatic world that Qaddaft is a master of
procrastination, especially if we are to rely on the United Nations to
adjudicate on this issue?” From the noise that greeted Raymond’s inquiry, 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 in the last Government himself, that I am
not in a position to divulge any information which might imperil the safety of
Broadsword.” Raymond nodded his acquiescence.

Question after
question came at Simon. He handled them with such confidence that visitors in
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 Broadsword, 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 after this statement and the questions arising from it have
been completed.”

Raymond looked
up at the Strangers’

Gallery from his place on the Opposition front bench.
It was
one of the ironies of modem diplomacy that the Libyan ambassador was in
Parliament making notes while the For338 eign Secretary delivered his
statement. He couldn’t imagine Colonel Qaddafi 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 secrecy.

Raymond’s eyes
dropped back to the front bench, and he continued to listen to Charles Hampton.

“Our ambassador
to the United Nations has presented 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. Her Majesty’s Government will
do everything in its power to insure a diplomatic solution, bearing in mind
that the lives of two hundred and seventeen British servicemen are still at
risk.”

The Shadow
Foreign Secretary rose 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 new 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 modem
major-general,” and then Tom Carson, who suggested that Colonel Qaddafi was
often misrepresented by the British press. Once Carson had sat down, the
Speaker found it easy to move on to other business.

The Speaker
rose again and thanked the Honorable Gentleman, the member for Leeds North, for
his courtesy in informing him that he would be making an application under
Standing Order Number 10 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 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 10.

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

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

Raymond
realized that Charles Hampton and Simon Kerslake must have pleaded for more
time, but he was only going to allow them twenty-four hours. The
clerkat-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.

Simon made his
way back to the Ministry of Defense to continue discussions with the Joint
Chiefs of Staff, while Charles was driven immediately to the Foreign Office.

When Charles
reached his office, 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.”

“Send him in.”

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

Mr. Kadir, the
dark-haired immaculately dressed five-foot-one ambassador for Libya entered the
room.

“Foreign
Secretary?” began Mr. Kadir.

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

“Her Majesty’s
Government wishes to make it abundantly clear to your government,” began
Charles, not allowing the ambassador to continue,

“that we
consider the act of boarding and holding Her Majesty’s ship Broadsword against
her will as one of piracy on the high seas.”

“May
I
say-T’ began Mr. Kadir again.

“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 – T’ 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-T’

“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 tier crew by twelve noon tomorrow, GMT. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Foreign
Secretary, but I would like to ask – -2’

“Good day, Mr.
Kadir.”

After the
Libyan ambassador was shown out, Charles couldn’t help wondering what it was he
had wanted to say.

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

“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 C ommons 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 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 Qaddafi.

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 Sir Winston. 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 is better qualified to prepare for jaw-jaw.” Sir
John looked toward his Minister.

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