Jeffrey Archer - First Among Equals

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 application 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 Broadsword 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 by 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.