The General's President (29 page)

Jaruzelski laughed, taking his own interpreter by surprise, and a frown of annoyance crossed the ambassador's face. The president noticed.

"Tell me, General Jaruzelski," Haugen went on, "how do you get along with Ambassador Tyler?"

For a moment, Tyler's mouth fell open. He flushed. The general too was clearly taken by surprise. "Ambassador Tyler? I hardly know him; we have little contact. It would be helpful though if he spoke Polish.

"I believe your State Department did not consider it important to have an ambassador here," he continued. "I believe Ambassador Tyler, through no fault of his own, is intended as a token—a symbol, rather than as an executor, of foreign policy." Jaruzelski eyed Haugen thoughtfully.

"Hm-m." The president pursed his wide mouth. "Perhaps that foreign policy has changed.

"General," he went on, shifting gears, "you agreed to let me address the Polish people on television, on the condition that my speech was not dangerous to the welfare of your country. I have it here to show you." Zale opened an attaché case and took out two thin sheaves of papers, handing one to the president and one to the premier. "It is in Polish," Haugen continued. "Mr. Zale assures me that I read it convincingly. Perhaps you and I can go over it together and determine whether changes need to be made."

He turned to the ambassador. "Mr. Tyler, you might as well leave. This will take some time, and the speech is in Polish. Take Mr. Marovich if you'd like, to see you back to the embassy."

Tyler flushed again, got up with a curt nod, and beckoning Marovich to follow, left the room.

Once more Jaruzelski's eyebrows had raised a few millimeters. Now he leaned over the large print and began silently to read.

***

The Sejm, the Polish parliament, was not in session, but a number of its members were in the chamber. The rest of the seats had been taken by the Polish and foreign press, representatives of labor and the Party, their wives, and the foreign diplomatic corps. There were no permanent facilities for televising, and cables snaked across the floor. Lights glared hotly at the rostrum, and dollies with camera booms stood strategically. The speech would be beamed not only over all of Poland, but upward to a satellite that would send it to most of the world.

A world that was very interested in this unusual American president. A world hopeful and afraid, hopeful of someone who might make progress toward peace, afraid that Haugen instead simply marked the end of democracy or perhaps a policy of truculence.

Jaruzelski introduced the president and first lady. Then the president stepped to the lectern, seated reading glasses on his broken nose, and looked out at the audience.

"I am glad," he said in Polish, "to be in Poland, and to speak to the Polish people. A people I have long respected and admired."

That was as far as be was willing to go in speaking Polish off the cuff. He looked down at his speech and began to read, hesitating occasionally at a pronunciation.

"I especially respect your unusual accomplishment in retaining such a large degree of independence from foreign rule. You have faced severe problems, and your success is a result both of your great courage as a nation and the skill and patience of your government in dealing with foreign powers."

No one in the audience failed to know who in particular the American president meant by "foreign powers." Not even Tyler, who was watching in his embassy office, with Marovich interpreting.

"And in this world of ours," Haugen continued, "skill and patience are as important as courage. Courage without skill and patience can lead to destruction. Skill and patience without courage are fruitless.

"One of the central realities that we must face, both Poles and Americans, is the Soviet Union. We must face it with courage, but we must also face it with patience, with wisdom and watchfulness."

He glanced up at his audience, then back to his speech. "My own patience and desire for peace have been shown by American forebearance with Russian imperialism in southern Asia. For that matter, it seems that the Russians have greatly harmed their own cause by their imperialist assault on Iran. It is proving a pit of trouble for them, far worse than Afghanistan.

"And their problems in Afghanistan were not truly solved by declaring it to be the Afghan SSR. Nor did the rest of the world consider it a Soviet domestic matter when the Red Army used poison gas against the mountain peoples there. It is especially interesting that they did this on the largest scale
after
they'd declared the Afghan people to be citizens of the Soviet Union.

"We should not doubt for one minute that the Russian Empire is powerful and dangerous. But at the same time, the Kremlin is aware that America and its allies are also powerful."

He let his gaze rest on his audience again before looking back at his speech. "Yet in this time of Soviet troubles at home and abroad, I have not considered an attack on the Soviet Union. Nor will I, even if the Soviet government collapses. Certainly not then.

"Nor do we expect the Soviet Union to attack the West. Russia's ability to expand its empire is weakening under Kremlin mismanagement, and under the continuing resentment and lack of cooperation of the subject peoples it has conquered. And also under the cynicism and apathy of so many of the Russian people themselves.

"Of course, America has troubles of its own. But the American people and the American government are moving effectively to correct our problems. While the Kremlin seems to have given up on correcting theirs, and is trying unsuccessfully to draw their people's attention away from those problems by making war in the Middle East.

"Russia is a nation of large resources and notable qualities. It is interesting to speculate on what the Kremlin might accomplish at home if it discarded its mental fixation on world domination—that old Russian imperialism which it tries now to disguise as 'world revolution.'

"It will be fascinating to see how the Soviet factions resolve their present difficulties. Perhaps the result will be a government clear-sighted enough to recognize that every nation should be allowed to work out its own destinies free of dictation by some great power.

"The United States is perfectly willing that Russia—
or any other nation
—be a Marxist state,
if that is what that nation, that people, truly wishes.
But we insist upon our right to be a nation free from Russian dictation. On our right to evolve politically, technically, and economically in our own directions. We also support the right of our allies to do the same. And fortunately we are in a position to defend that right. And we
will
defend it if it comes to that."

The president scanned the room. "But enough talk of fighting. I doubt very much that the United States and Russia will ever go to war against each other. We don't want to and they don't want to, and I would much prefer to be a friend to Russia than an enemy.

"It is time to build, not destroy. It is time to create, to allow each other to build futures instead of armies. In the United States we are renewing not only our economy but our spirit of democracy and personal liberty. And we are creating new technology, much of which is not the technology of war. A generation from now, we may reasonably hope to have entered a truly golden age.

"That golden age, of course, is still speculation. But what I will tell you next is fact. Within the next few weeks you can expect to see the release of a major new technology. A new, peaceful technology, the result of a basic scientific breakthrough that will change the welfare of mankind for the better, both economically and in our understanding of the universe.

"That will not mean the end of problems. But along with recent and future developments in computer technology, superconductors, genetics and other fields, it will move this planet to a new level of accomplishment and human opportunity.

"And the United States will not hide this technology. It will send it promptly to many nations. Before the end of winter, it will go to Mexico and Australia, Britain and West Germany, Scandinavia and Japan and China. And to Poland. I have agreed to that today with General Jaruzelski."

Again he looked at his audience and then at the center camera. "Thank you for listening to me, people of Poland," he said. "Once again your premier has demonstrated his courage, by letting me speak to you like this. I value your friendship, and I want to close by wishing you happiness and prosperity."

He looked up at his audience then. "Long live Poland!" he cried. "Long live the Polish people!"

He stepped back from the lectern, and the Polish audience, silent till then, began to applaud. Not wildly, not enthusiastically, but strongly, until, after standing there for twenty seconds, the president bowed and left.

***

The premier's escorted limousine took Arne and Lois Haugen and John Zale to the American embassy, where they were to spend the night. After they arrived, Lois went to their suite and Zale to his room. No ambassador had met them, no deputy ambassador, only marine guards, so the president asked a marine to take him to the ambassador's office. No one was there, so he looked over the in-house directory beneath the glass top of the ambassador's desk. Then he dialed the ambassador's apartment and told him he wanted to speak with him personally, in his office.

Tyler kept him waiting a quarter hour, but when he arrived, Haugen didn't comment on it. "Mr. Tyler," he said, "we have things to talk about. And apparently there's something you'd like to tell me. I'd like to hear it."

"Mr. President," Tyler said, and his voice was husky with emotion, "you have humiliated me in front of the premier. I can no longer serve here effectively."

The president bit back the impulse to tell him he never had served effectively. Instead he said, "All right, I got that. You shouldn't have been sent here anyway. There's got to be hundreds of persons who could serve here who speak Polish, and..."

Tyler interrupted angrily. "I'm learning Polish! I get an hour of lessons daily."

"For how long? When did you start?"

"Two weeks ago."

"When did you get here?"

Tyler reddened. "May fifteenth."

Gentle Jesus
, Haugen said to himself.
He's been here more than six months. What the hell is this? Our ambassadors in Scandinavia seemed competent enough.

"Well, you've started anyway. What are your qualifications for the job?"

"I have a degree in International Affairs from Harvard, and I worked in the State Department for six years before being posted here."

"For six years? In Washington, or abroad?"

"In Washington."

Well
, Haugen thought,
they knew what they were sending anyway. They can't claim ignorance; not of this.
He was beginning to see an explanation. This embassy was a listening post inside the Iron Curtain; its main function was intelligence gathering. The ambassador was window dressing. But even window dressing should be good.

"All right, William. Now let me point out something. First of all, an ambassador is supposed to be a diplomat. I suggest you look up the word. An American diplomat does not behave arrogantly, not in this era. Certainly not to the point of keeping his own chief of state waiting without telling him he'll be delayed, or even explaining afterward. Certainly not to the point of waiting six months to begin learning the language.

"And secondly, a diplomat should not display petulance toward a head of state as you did this morning toward the premier. That was totally unacceptable behavior."

While Haugen had spoken, his tone had shifted from mild and patient to sharp and metallic. Now he changed tone again, speaking more mildly.

"Who recommended you?" he asked. "I suppose President Donnelly must have appointed you, and the Senate confirmed it, but who sponsored you?"

"Secretary Coulter."

"I see. And who recommended you to Secretary Coulter?"

"I have no idea. Probably no one. He'd probably noticed me."

"Did it seem to you today that General Jaruzelski lacked respect for you as ambassador?"

"Jaruzelski is a Soviet stooge! It doesn't make a damn bit of difference whether he likes me or not!"

Abruptly the president stood. "Tyler," he said, and his voice was suddenly intense, almost menacing, "You are done here. Get your stuff packed and be on a plane out by Tuesday. You are no longer ambassador, as of this moment. You will no longer give orders here."

He turned and strode out of the room, then hunted up the aide in charge for the night. The place seemed dead. He found the man reading a recent issue of
Newsweek
.

"Who's second in command here?" Haugen snapped.

The man looked up, then jumped to his feet. "Mr. Bennett, sir."

The president took the edge off his voice. "Get him for me, please."

"Yes Mr. President." The man hesitated. "I believe he's in the radio room, sending the daily intelligence report."

"Thank you. Get him for me now." Haugen watched while the man sat back down and dialed.
So the second in command is BIR
, he thought—the State Department's Bureau of Intelligence and Research. And maybe CIA too. It occurred to him that he wasn't really clear on the lines of responsibility in intelligence; perhaps they weren't distinct.

He was willing to bet though that this second in command was a lot sharper than Tyler.

Suddenly weary, the president took a deep breath and asked himself again how something like this could have happened.

TWENTY-SIX

Almost daily, Jumper Cromwell could be found in the vice president's West Wing office at the White House for an hour or two in the afternoon, but the rest of the day he usually spent in a small office at the Pentagon. Of course, he had no authority there now, but a vice president didn't have much authority anywhere, normally.

With the president out of the country, the routine had been different. Cromwell had been "camping out" in a White House guest room, and spending his workdays in his White House office handling paperwork and being available.

After four days he needed a break, so early the fifth morning he left the White House, Secret Service men in tow, and took a helicopter to the Pentagon to catch up on his IN basket there.