Brad Thor: Blowback

THE WHITE HOUSE

President Jack Rutledge waved his chief of staff, Charles Anderson, into the Oval Office and signaled that his phone conversation was almost complete.

“Yes, Your Majesty, I realize that, and we appreciate the lengths you have gone to to keep militants in your own country in check. Your help in the war on terror has been invaluable. Let me assure you that this is one of my top priorities and we are going to get to the bottom of it,” the president said. He paused and then said, “I’ve heard that rumor, too, and I can understand why your people would be upset, but let me again state that there are always two sides to every story. We’re going to get to the bottom of this, and as soon as we do, we’ll brief you on our findings. I guarantee you that we are taking this very seriously.”

The president paused again and then answered, “And I thank you for your time as well. Goodbye, Your Majesty.”

As the president hung up, he turned to Anderson and said, “This is an absolute nightmare. That’s the sixth call I’ve had today from an Arab head of state. You know what they’re calling it over there? The showdown at the al-Karim corral.”

“Yeah. I’ve heard that one,” replied Anderson. “Not very original, if you ask me.”

“Original or not, this is a big black eye for us. The Muslims take an extremely long view of history, Chuck. Much longer than we do. To many of them, the crusades are as fresh in their minds as if they happened last week. All of this on the heels of the whole Abu Ghraib prison fiasco. That might as well have happened ten minutes ago as far as they’re concerned.”

“Abu Ghraib was bad. No question about it. And this al-Jazeera thing has got the potential to be much worse-”

“The potential? Chuck, I have no idea how the view is from where you’re sitting, but this has gone way beyond the potential for being worse. It is worse. Monumentally.”

“I’ll admit it doesn’t look good, but I want to remind you, as you yourself just said, we don’t have all the facts yet.

“That soldier is an American. That’s all that matters,” said the president. “We’re not fighting this war on terror in a vacuum. Every single move we make is watched around the world. Every single thing we do has countless repercussions. It takes us years to gain a mere foot of credible ground in that region and only seconds to lose it.”

“Agreed,” said Anderson, “ but the Muslims’ long view of history notwithstanding, I don’t think the United States should have to wear the weight of the crusades around its neck. America didn’t even exist in the eleventh century. Europe launched the crusades.”

The president leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling. “It doesn’t matter. In their minds we’re an extension of Europe. Everything the West does, whether it’s Europe or America, is connected. Seven minutes or seven centuries ago, it’s all the same to them. They paint us with the same brush. It’s frustrating as hell, but these people just don’t think the way we do.”

“Nobody thinks the way we do. We have a unique spirit, and that spirit is what defines America. Freedom, democracy, liberty, and the willingness to use force when necessary to help preserve those ideals-that’s what we’re all about. You pick any man or woman on the street in the Middle East and give him or her the option of staying put or coming to America to start their lives over again with the rights and freedoms we identify ourselves by, and they’ll choose the good ol’ USA every time. They might burn our flag for the cameras, but throw a handful of green cards in the air and they’d cut each other’s throats to get their hands on them.”

“I wonder what al-Jazeera would do with that footage,” said the president as he shifted his gaze and focused on his chief of staff.

“Don’t get me started on al-Jazeera. We could be passing out blankets, medicine, and gold-plated copies of the Koran over there, and they’d still find a way to make us look like the bad guys.”

“Too true,” replied Rutledge, “but lack of journalistic integrity at al-Jazeera is a conversation I’m tired of having. What did you want to see me about?”

“I take it that was King Abdullah you were speaking with?” asked Anderson.

The president nodded his head.

“And the rumor you were referring to was that the man seen being beaten by our soldier was just a nobody, a fruit stall vendor, right?”

Again the president nodded.

“Well, that’s not a rumor any longer. He is a fruit stall vendor.”

“That’s fantastic,” said the president, as he threw up his hands and stood up from behind his desk. “It couldn’t have been a terrorist off our most wanted list, could it? That would have been too easy. Heaven forbid we get an opportunity to bolster our credibility in the region by taking a known killer out of circulation.”

“Even if the guy was a known terrorist, from a PR standpoint I still don’t think this is how we would have wanted it to go down for the cameras,” replied Anderson as he watched the president pace.

“You know what I’m trying to say. Our credibility is so thin over there, all you have to do is hold it up to a light bulb and you can see through it. We talk about being a just nation-a nation that observes the rule of law, a place where people are innocent until proven guilty-but those are only words, aren’t they? And what speaks a thousand words? Pictures. And what pictures are being watched the world over by anyone who has turned on a television set in the last eight hours? A faceless American soldier beating the pulp out of an Iraqi fruit stall vendor. What a picture that made, straight out of Central Casting. A uniformed American GI and a typical local citizen complete with turban. “

“It was actually a kaffiyeh, sir, not a turban. There’s a difference.”

“I know there’s a difference, and you don’t have to tell me,” barked Rutledge. “I saw the footage.”

“Of course. I’m sorry, sir.”

“My point is that we can’t just talk the talk. We have to walk that talk-all of us. From the lowliest buck private all the way to the people working in this building. Damn it. Just when it seemed we were getting some PR traction in that part of the world, this happens.”

Anderson waited a moment for the president to cool down and said, “There may be a piece of information that could work to our favor in all of this.”

Rutledge stopped pacing for a moment and raised his eyebrows. “Really? Like what? Are you going to tell me that the attack was self-defense somehow? Maybe the fruit vendor was selling bad dates, because if he was, then this whole thing is okay, isn’t it? I mean, if this guy had the balls to sell bad dates, then the gloves understandably come off. God knows we’re not a nation that stands for bad dates, and heaven help any fruit vendor who tries to sell them to us.”

The chief of staff knew that the president was only one step away from blowing his stack and decided to tread very lightly. “The fruit vendor’s stall was nowhere near where this incident took place. In fact, it’s completely on the other side of Baghdad. He should have been manning his stall when this all went down, but it turns out he paid one of his cousins, and not a small amount of money, to man it for him.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because somebody paid him even more money to take the day off and hang out a couple of blocks from the al-Karim bazaar.”

“Who? And why?”

“The Iraqi Security Forces have been trying to get that out of him, but the man claims he doesn’t know,” said Anderson. “And before you make any remarks about the effectiveness of the Iraqi Security Forces, keep in mind that they were almost immediately on the scene at al-Karim and shut the al-Jazeera crew down before they could get our soldier’s face on tape. We’re lucky that it was all shot from behind.”