Do you have a source for that? I thought I remembered something like that too, but I couldn't find a list of the candidates anywhere.The UK had selected 5 astronauts by February 1984. They never flew in @ for a number of reasons, including the Challenger Disaster. That might be different in TTL.
I do wonder if NASA has a powerful enough booster to get Sharkey Ward's ego into orbit.
NASA's Waterloo: A Realistic Mission to Mars Post Apollo
- Thread starter prolemasses
- Start date
I found a Wiki page on the UK Space Programme that lists British astronauts. The ones selected in '84 are in the third paragraph under the table of Brits who did fly - https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/British_space_programme#British_astronauts.
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Sorry for the long gap everyone, still writing stuff, just got home for the holidays, expect a post within the week. After that, I will aim for a biweekly post schedule.
no pressure - BUT MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ;-)
post at your own speed and keep the quality as high as previously and there can be no complaints!
Part V Chapter 8
Part V Chapter 8:
“A space station will permit quantum leaps in our research in science, communications, and in metals and lifesaving medicines which could be manufactured only in space. We want our friends to help us meet these challenges and share in their benefits. NASA will invite other countries to participate so we can strengthen peace, build prosperity, and expand liberty for all who share our goals.”
-Ronald Reagan
After being delayed for years, and exceeding the planned budget by over a billion dollars, space station Liberty was finally ready for launch in early 1989. On March 17, 1989, the core module of the station was rolled out to the pad, mounted on the final Saturn V that would ever launch, SA-619. Due to the main body of the core module being nearly twice the length of Skylab, Starlab, or the Ares Mission Modules, but still retaining the same 6.6 meter diameter, the stack had a very skinny, strange looking appearance. Despite being physically smaller than the massive PPMs that the Saturn VB had launched over the past decade, the core module of Liberty, was just as massive. The discrepancy in size was due to the low density of the liquid hydrogen propellant used by the PPMs. Spectators flocked to watch this final Saturn V launch, but not in numbers like those seen for Apollo 11 or Ares 2. Space station Liberty was to be the crux of NASA’s spaceflight policy for the next decade at minimum, and almost certainly longer. Everything was riding on this launch. In case of catastrophe, a backup launch vehicle had been earmarked, and a spare core module had been constructed, though to save money, it was not fully outfitted. Despite the backup existing, if worst came to worst and it was actually required, that would likely mean an additional year or more of delays, along with another billion dollars or two. Everyone who had gathered to watch Liberty launch waited with bated breath, and a sense of anxiety permeated Kennedy Space Center. Finally, on April 13, the countdown began. The rocket was fully fueled, all the systems were checked, and the clock ticked down. With just 14 minutes to go, the launch was scrubbed, due to a boat wandering into the maritime exclusion zone, to the frustration of all. The second launch attempt occurred four days later, on April 17, and this time, everything went smoothly. For the last time, controller went through the now familiar Saturn V launch sequence. These titanic rockets had been at the forefront of American spaceflight for more than twenty years, and were iconic symbols of spaceflight. When anyone in America thought of a rocket, they thought of the towering black and white Saturn, with its four strap on boosters. A few seconds before the clock struck zero, the massive F-1A engines ignited for what would be the last time. At zero, the solid boosters ignited, and the clamps were released, and Liberty lifted off from the pad. The vehicle rocketed into the sky, carrying America’s next space station into the sky. After the boosters burned out, they fell away, followed less than a minute later by the S-ID first stage. The F-1 engines on a Saturn V fell silent for the last time, and the S-ID tumbled away, as the J-2S engines ignited on the S-IIB upper stage. Finally, after several minutes, the S-IIB shut down, leaving the whole stack in an elliptical parking orbit. The whole thing coasted to apoapsis, where the J-2S engines of the S-IIB reignited to circularise the orbit. This feature, which had not existed on earlier versions of the Saturn V, had been introduced on the Saturn VB, as it had been required to place the PPMs into their parking orbits. Once the S-IIB had placed the stack into the correct orbit, 430 by 430 kilometers and thirty degrees, the J-2S engines shut down, and the core module separated from the stage. It drifted free, and transmitted an all clear signal to the ground. Once it was clear that the station was safely in orbit, cheers erupted from Florida, to Houston. Shortly after separation, the massive solar arrays began to unfurl. The station had four arrays, each of which was 150% the size of the arrays used by the Ares Mission Modules and Starlab, meaning Liberty had three times the surface area of solar panels. Due to to improvements in solar technology, the station produced close to four times as much power as its predecessors, providing ample margin for life support systems and experiments. Though Liberty would be augmented by modules added later, it was not really a true modular space station, in the spirit of Zvezda. All of the basic functionality of the station was self contained within the monolithic core module. The core would provide power, propulsion, life support, crew quarters, and storage to support station operations, and would even be home to around 50% of the experiments aboard station. Even if every other module was not launched at this point, be it due to funding issues or launcher explosions, the station would still be able operate fine, if under expectations. The main issue, aside from the science lost without the international lab modules, was that without the additional docking ports provided by the node modules, managing station operations would be trickier, with the four crew vehicles and three to five cargo vehicles that needed to dock with Liberty every year having trouble finding somewhere to berth. As is, Liberty had a docking adapter similar to its predecessors, in addition to a forward and rear port, leaving the baseline station with six open ports. Just two days after Liberty was launched, it would receive the first of many, many visitors. Launched by a Titan IIIM, the first operational Kronos ACV would approach the massive station, guided under remote control from the ground. It was carrying a full cargo load of the supplies and equipment that would be necessary to outfit the station. After a slow approach, it carefully inched forward, right towards the rear port of Liberty, ground controllers guided it in, but the onboard computer would make small adjustments, using laser rangefinders and signals sent from a transponder aboard the station to guide it closer, and keep it on track. As the name suggested, the Automated Cargo Vehicle was eventually intended to be able to dock under its own control, with no ground intervention. However, for safety, this first approach would involve the hybrid control system, with fine corrections being handled automatically, and the big picture stuff being handled from the ground. It successfully mated with Liberty, slightly expanding the station.
On May 25, 1989, a Saturn II lifted off from LC-34, carrying the first crew bound for Liberty. The expedition was commanded by longtime astronaut and Command Module Pilot on Apollo 15, Vance Brand. Brand was joined by Command Module Pilot John Casper, and Mission Specialists David C Hilmers, and Mary Cleave. The crew rode aboard an Apollo Block V CSM, on its maiden manned mission. The Block V was only a minor upgrade over previous CSMs, modernising the interior, and optimising the craft to support four man, six month space station operations. The Saturn II, which had been the cornerstone of NASA’s manned spaceflight missions for more than a decade, had also seen some minor modifications over the years. The RS-27 engines that powered the first stage had seen some minor improvements to their thrust and specific impulse, while manufacturing improvements to the first stage allowed a small amount of structural mass to be shaved off. These small upgrades increased the payload of the Saturn II by a hair, which, combined with mass optimisations to the CSM, meant that the Apollo Block V could carry more cargo than any other variant. The Saturn II performed as advertised, delivering Liberty Expedition 1 to a low rendezvous orbit, ready to catch up with the station. On May 27, Expedition 1 docked to Liberty on the forward port, and boarded the massive station for the first time. Though all astronauts training for Liberty missions had trained on the ground mockups of the station, and were aware of the general dimensions, the sight of the station’s interior was still mightily impressive. The station was 6.6 meters wide, just like all previous American stations, but was more than twice as long. Though the core module was divided into two, Mission Module sized pressurised compartments, with a tunnel between them, when the hatches were opened, astronauts at one end could see all the way to the other side, 30 meters away. It was quite large, to say the least. Crew members compared it less to a station, and more to a cave, or a skyscraper, depending on your position and orientation. Surrounding the tunnel that connected the two massive compartments were lots of tanks for the life support system, and a large amount of the station’s computers. The crew of Expedition 1 would dedicate their mission to setting up the station, and unpacking everything, a daunting task. They would unload the Kronos ACV, and would get to work activating organising the remainder of the station. To completely fill the 240,000 kg capability of the launch vehicle, Liberty had been filled to the brim with consumables, equipment, scientific experiments, spare parts, and everything else needed by the station. It was hoped that all of this extra “stuff” packed in would help bring the station online as quickly as possible, with fewer supply flights required. Once station operations were up and running, two to four Kronos ACVs would fly every year, but critically, unlike Starlab, no manned “milk run” supply flights would be required. The four crew members of Expedition 1 would be very, very busy with station setup during their time onboard Liberty. This inaugural flight would be marked by very full schedules, and lots of unpacking and relocating of cargo. Liberty also had state of the art amenities for the crew though, including small private quarters, a very functional kitchen that included a refrigerator, multiple toilets and showers, and plenty of leisure time activities, like a small movie theater, books, music, and board games. The same teams that had worked on keeping the Ares crew occupied and comfortable were brought in for Liberty, and did a very fine job making the station relatively comfy. After six months of hard work, the crew of Expedition 1 welcomed the crew of Expedition 2 in late October of 1989. Expedition 2, commanded by Donald Williams, with Richard Covey, Judith Resnik, and ESRO astronaut Richard Farrimond. The two crews would share the station for three weeks, an easy feat since Liberty was designed with a crew of eight in mind. After Expedition 1 departed, Expedition 2 would see the arrival of an additional Kronos ACV, bringing more supplies for the station. Also, in March of 1990, the crew of Expedition 2 would oversee the addition of the first module to Liberty. Launch on March 21, 1990 by a Saturn II, the Harmony node module was designed to provide five additional docking ports for the station, freeing up several on the current docking adapter for future modules. Harmony had been built, and mostly funded by, NASDA, the Japanese Space Agency, for NASA, in exchange for the launch of their own laboratory module to the station aboard a Saturn II. To help the module dock itself to the station, it launched attached to a small “tug module”, derived from the Block V CSM. This tug would be used to dock all of the large planned modules, providing propulsion and maneuvering capabilities, and using the same guidance systems as the Kronos ACV when it came time to dock. On March 25, under close supervision from the crew and steered by ground controllers, Harmony would be docked to the forward port of Liberty, which had been freed up as planned by the departure of Expedition 1. The module attached itself to the station, connecting to the power, life support, and maneuvering systems. On March 27, the crew would open the hatch for the first time, checking out Harmony. It was mostly empty, as aside for some minor storage use, its main responsibility was as a node and a connector. On March 30, Covey and Resnik would perform an EVA, to install several external connection points on Harmony, to make sure that it remained connected to the station, both through all of its systems, and structurally and physically. In late April of 1990, the crew of Expedition 3 would arrive, and, after a two week overlap period, the crew of Expedition 2 would return to Earth. The crew of Expedition 3 would continue with setup, but would also be the first crew to engage in any level of scientific study. Another important first would occur in July of 1990, three months into their stay, with the arrival of Expedition 4. Expedition 4 would bring the station up to its operational crew of eight. It was planned that, with crews staying on station for six months, every three months a new crew would arrive, and would stay alongside one other crew for three months, and another for the next three. The addition of four more crew made Liberty the space station with the largest ever operational crew, surpassing Zvezda. Once this crew was aboard the station, Kronos flights began picking up, from two in 1990, to four in 1991. Starting with Wubbo Ockels on Expedition 4, the station would maintain a permanent ESRO crew member, and starting with Chiaki Mukai on Expedition 6, the station would maintain a permanent Japanese crew member. While the majority of the remaining six crew were typically American, it was not unusual for a Canadian or a second ESRO astronaut to fly along as the sixth crew member. In addition, once “double shift” missions began taking place semi-regularly, starting with Expedition 9, more guest astronauts would visit the station for anywhere from two weeks to three months, taking advantage of the seat freed up, including astronauts from Brazil, Mexico, Israel, and Saudi Arabia. With a full permanent crew of eight occupying the station at all times, Liberty was declared to be at “Initial Operating Capability”. This meant that, the station could now dive into its scientific exploration in earnest, but it's capabilities would soon be expanded with the arrival of future modules.
In February of 1991, during the stay of Expeditions 5 and 6, the station would receive further expansion, with the arrival of the Japanese laboratory module Kibo. Kibo was also launched by a Saturn II, attached to the same tug module that had docked the Harmony node module. The module was designed to house Japanese and partner nation experiments. It also contained a small scientific airlock, and a vacuum exposure facility, to allow for materials, components, and experiments to be directly exposed to the harsh environment of outer space for long durations. However, due to the massive internal volume of the 240 metric ton station, a 16 metric ton lab did not meaningfully expand the station. The main use would be in providing a location for Japanese experiments to be conducted. A central experiment carried was the Centrifugal Gravity Experiment. The CGE would allow for new field of study previously impossible: long duration microgravity testing. While the space stations and the Ares missions had allowed a large amount of zero g experiments to be conducted, almost no data existed on the long term effects of Lunar or Martian gravity on biology. The CGE would use a small centrifuge that would spin up, providing up to 0.17 or 0.38 g, to simulate long term exposure to the Moon or Mars. While too small to be used for tests on mice or any large animals, tests would be possible on bacteria, and insects. This would provide useful data for any future potential Moon or Mars bases. Kibo was attached to the Zenith node of Harmony on February 13, 1991. The module was immediately put to use, with the CGE being used on microorganisms, and insects, primarily to study the effects of Lunar gravity. A Moon Base was a more realistic concept in the near future than a Mars base, and so the main field of study was centered around providing information to enable that. Kibo would be joined aboard the station in December of 1991 by the ESRO lab module Vespucci, launched by a Saturn II with the same docking tug. Like Kibo, Vespucci was intended to serve as the host for a variety of European experiments, though it did not contain the exposure platform, or the CGE, intended as a more general purpose lab. Vespucci was docked to the Nadir port, which would help to better serve one of the great features of the lab: the Cupola. The Cupola was a module built by Italy, on the far end of Vespucci, that contained a large amount of windows to provide unprecedented views of the Earth. Though the main station was massive, with many windows, they were still the same small windows that had been used since Skylab. The largest windows ever put in space would allow for fabulous photographs, fantastic video opportunities, and just a great place for astronauts to relax. To facilitate this last function without disturbing the occupants of Vespucci, the Cupola compartment contained a door that allowed it to be sealed off from the lab. Initially hypothesised as being part of the cancelled US habitat expansion module, the Cupola design had been picked up by the Italians after that module was written off, and incorporated into the ESRO module. Indeed, the Cupola would wind up being a favorite location aboard Liberty for the crew during their leisure time.
With the addition of the two foreign lab modules, space station Liberty was declared to be at “Full Operational Capacity”. The crew embarked on a full program of scientific exploration. Unlike Skylab and Starlab, previous US stations, Liberty was not intended as a testbed for duration life support for Ares, but as its own, full fledged orbital outpost. As such, though many experiments on the biological effects of microgravity were performed, the station’s crew often focused on other areas of study, and a variety of microgravity applications. The crew would use a suite of astronomical instruments to study the cosmos, looking at cosmic rays and far away galaxies. Like on Skylab, they would study the Sun in depth as well, observing the sunspots, corona, and even peering below the surface. Crews would also study zero gravity manufacturing techniques, and crystal growing, to see if there was any future in industrial or pharmaceutical space based manufacturing. In fact, some of the major US pharma companies, including Pfizer and Johnson and Johnson, would provide experiments that would be flown to the station. While the station would indeed yield some interesting results on the feasibility of in space manufacturing, the dreams of brand new alloys developed in zero g, or super drugs manufactured in space, would not really materialise, limited by the economic realities of space travel. These same factors impacted the ability for Liberty to be used as a “space dock”, where satellites and space probes might be serviced, or even manufactured. The farthest down this path Liberty would venture was as a launching point for a few NASA and student smallsat payloads. Thus, many of the fantastic dreams that the station had been partially sold on, did not materialise fully, and mostly what Liberty ended up being was a research laboratory, just like the other space stations, just a lot bigger. However, as an orbital lab, Liberty excelled. It provided more room than any other, being a cavernous, massive vessel. With eight crew aboard, a lot could be done, with much more being accomplished every hour and day than had been possible on any previous outpost. There was ample opportunity for NASA to conduct public educational outreach, filming videos aboard station to demonstrate scientific principles, or simply how the astronauts lived. Many discoveries would be made aboard Liberty, in a variety of fields. These included: the dynamics of flames and combustion in zero g, which helped explain much about the fundamentals of combustion, how microgravity affects infectious bacteria like MRSA, more data on mysterious nature of dark matter, using the Alpha Magnetic Spectrometer instrument, a new treasure trove of data on the effects of zero g, and lunar gravity environments on biology, human and otherwise, and many more scientifically valuable discoveries.
The international nature of the station was an important factor in the large ground swell of support for the station. Collaboration helped to strengthen national partnerships, help ease some budgetary issues by spreading out the cost, and help make things a bit more resistant to cancellation. The international nature of the station emerged not just in the scientific modules and experiments, but in the makeup of its crew, with a guaranteed slot for both European and Japanese astronauts. And soon, it was planned that the station would be serviced by an international fleet of vehicles, supplementing the current American ones. By 1991, ESRO’s Ulysses program was rapidly approaching its first flight. In July of 1989, a prototype of the capsule had been launched on a suborbital flight by a Europa 4 booster. The quick hop had served to test the heatshield, reentry maneuvering systems, and parachutes of the new spacecraft, along with the necessary infrastructure used to recover it. The French Frigate Duquesne would pull the first capsule from the Pacific Ocean, after a perfectly executed suborbital flight. The program as a whole was proceeding smoothly, and was surprisingly, pretty much right on schedule. The Europa 4 Heavy that was planned to launch the capsule was also proceeding smoothly, with the baseline Europa 4’s flying in 1988, and a test flight of the Heavy planned for early 1992. Though ESRO had flown their own astronauts before, aboard NASA missions, their astronaut corps was fairly small, and not ready for the high crew loads necessary to support regular operation of Ulysses. And though their astronauts normally had some aviation backgrounds, none of them had been trained as pilots in the NASA program, flying as mission specialists. The new capsule would be very advanced, with much of its operation being automated. Nevertheless, in order to command Ulysses, many of ESROs new and old astronauts would be trained to pilot the capsules. There was briefly a debate within ESRO on the terminology to use for their own indigenously launched space travelers. The British wished to retain the familiar “astronaut”, while other nations, led by the French, wished to better distinguish European space travelers by labeling them “Spationauts”. This name, though French in origin, made sense to the romance language, and related tongues, including the English, and eventually gained the backing of a majority of ESRO member states. The name was then officially adopted. An important step in advancing the capsule to flight ready status was the demonstration flight for its booster, the Europa 4 Heavy. The Heavy was rolled out to the pad at Kouru for its demo flight on January 12, 1992. The rocket was the largest ever built outside of the US or USSR, but was still modestly sized as far as rockets went. The Blue Streak derived first stage was flanked by two additional Blue Streak boosters. Stacked on top was the Etoile B second stage, powered by four HM-7B rocket engines. Stacked on top of that was an additional Etoile A2, powered by two HM-7Bs. Finally, sitting on top of all of them was a 12 metric ton Ulysses mass simulator. Externally, the stack resembled an operational Ulysses launch, with an escape tower and everything however, the mass simulator had little of the same internal components as the real thing. On January 25, the rocket lifted off on its maiden flight. Shortly after takeoff, the two engines on the center core were throttled down slightly, to save fuel. The two outer stages provided the majority of the thrust propelling the vehicle skywards. Shortly before the two outer rockets were due to burn out, the center was throttled back up to 100%. The two boosters were exhausted and fell away, leaving the center to push the stack towards orbit. When that too burned out, the upper stage ignited. Once both upper stages were expended, the payload was left in orbit, the whole mission being a success! The boilerplate, having been left on a deliberately low orbit, would fall back to Earth and burn up within three weeks. The rocket having demonstrated itself so far, the Ulysses team went ahead with the program, working towards the next planned test flight. In April, the inflight abort test was performed. This would be similar to the pad abort test which had taken place in mid 1991, in that it would demonstrate the critically important launch abort system that would pull the crew to safety in case of emergency. For the inflight abort, a Ulysses capsule with an attached escape tower, would be launched onto a brief suborbital flight by an older Blue Streak booster left over from the Europa 2 program. Less than a minute into the flight, the capsule would simulate an emergency by activating the escape tower, rockering it away from the booster, which was then destroyed by the range safety officer. The test went successfully, proving that a crew would survive, if not with dry pants, an inflight booster failure. The capsule would parachute down into the Atlantic, where it would be recovered by a waiting ship. In September of 1992, the first fully functional Ulysses capsule was delivered to Kourou, to be fitted to its launch vehicle. This vehicle was destined to fly an unmanned test flight, proving all systems to be functional before the first manned flight was made. The rocket lifted off on October 28, 1992, carrying the capsule, which had been nicknamed “Ariane” by ground crews, into space. It reached orbit successfully, where it was jettisoned from the upper stage. The solar panels on the Service Module unfolded, providing power for the craft as it began the first of its trials: maneuvering. The inflight propulsion system would be used to adjust the orbit of Ariane, making slight adjustments to the altitude and inclination. The flight computers would be tested, being instructed to rendezvous with pre-programmed waypoints as if they were actual docking targets. The guidance software was the most advanced used on any manned spacecraft, able to fly basically the entire mission without human control. It could also perform autonomous rendezvous and docking, allowing for a large degree of mission flexibility. Ulysses performed spectacularly, going through all of the motions perfectly. Also tested during this flight were the life support and electrical systems, which were put through the same level of stress that they would be on a normal flight. After five days on orbit, with everything going smoothly, and all the mission goals met, the flight was deemed successful. Ariane was deorbited, reentering and splashing down in the Atlantic, to the north of Kourou, where it would be picked up by the recovery ship.
While the Europeans worked on their spacecraft contribution to Liberty, on the other side of the world, the Japanese worked on theirs. NASDA and its contractors were hard at work developing and building both the Hayabusa cargo ship, and to a lesser extent, the Fuji manned capsule. Efforts to develop a manned spacecraft had never been abandoned, just sidelined in favor of developing the cargo vessel. Thankfully, forgiving budgets allowed work to continue on the manned capsule, even if as a side project to the main focus. The Japanese were partially funding their contribution to the station via resupply services with Hayabusa, so it was important that they get the craft up and running. Fortunately (and intentionally), development on Hayabusa assisted development on Fuji in several fields. The service modules planned to be used by the two were very similar, and the crew capsule on Fuji would just be a scaled up version of the capsule that would be used to bring pressurised cargo up and down from Liberty. This was a major advantage Hayabusa offered over Kronos, the ability to bring substantial amounts of cargo back from the station. This would allow many experiments to be returned to Earth, where their results could be analysed in-situ, a very useful feature. Hayabusa would also ease part of the load currently filled by Kronos, allowing for one of the annual ACV flights to be eliminated. This was an important contribution, because the rising price tag of the Titan IIIM launch vehicle was causing the operational cost of the Kronos ACV to rise above expectations. Because of this, development of Hayabusa was prioritised over Fuji, though development was continued in parallel. It was planned that the cargo ship would be ready by the first flight of the H-II rocket in 1993, while the manned vehicle would fly around 1995 or 1996. However, in 1991, these plans had a wrench thrown into them. The Japanese economy, which had been the second largest in the world, crashed in late 1991. The popping of the bubble would lead to a rapid decline in the Japanese economy, and would lead to the 90s being referred to as “the lost decade” in Japan. As a result of harsh economic realities, to save money, the Japanese space program's budget would be slashed. Part of this involved shelving the manned spacecraft, and delaying Hayabusa. NASDA would be put through the ringer, jumping through hoops to keep the program afloat. After some rough months, the project was close to back on track. The teams managed to keep the development of Hayabusa roughly on the schedule of the H-II rocket that would launch it. The H-II was the first 100% domestically developed Japanese liquid fueled rocket, capable of lifting 11 metric tons to orbit. It used an upper stage powered by the same LE-5 engine that had powered the Japanese upper stage of the H-I rocket, and a brand new Japanese first stage powered by an LE-7 engine, and two solid rocket boosters. Unusually, the rocket was powered by liquid hydrogen on all stages, a decision that had been made based on Japanese familiarity with hydrogen engines. Due to the low density of liquid hydrogen, the H-II was physically much larger than other rockets with similar capabilities. It was 4 meters in diameter, the width of an Energia booster. The H-II had some difficulties in development, with the maiden flight in April 1993 ending in an explosion. However, by late that year, engineers were confident that they had addressed all of the H-II’s issues. On the second H-II launch in November of 1993, a prototype Hayabusa reentry capsule was included aboard as the payload. While the H-II continued on to orbit, the capsule was left on a suborbital trajectory, which would test its heatshield during reentry. The test went perfectly, and the capsule was pulled from the sea for further analysis. The first full up flight test was now planned for 1995, with operational flights to begin shortly thereafter.
On April 14, 1993, the big day for ESRO arrived. A Ulysses capsule sat atop a Europa 4 Heavy at Kourou, and a crew sat in the ready room, preparing to pilot it to orbit. Today, the first Spationauts would fly. This was to be the manned demo flight for Ulysses, which would see the crew take it to orbit, perform some maneuvers, dock to Liberty, spend three days there, and then return to Earth. If this went well, crew ferry flights to Liberty would begin within the year. For this first mission, only two crew members were selected, partially due to the risk and unknowns involved. Commanding the mission would be the Frenchman Jean-Loup Chrètien, a veteran who had flown on NASA missions twice, once to Starlab, and once to Liberty, and had been the first French person in space. Flying alongside him would be another veteran, Italian Maurizio Cheli. Cheli had flown to Liberty on Expedition 5 in 1990. Both of these men were highly trained, and veteran astronauts, but soon they would be the first Spationauts. They boarded their capsule, which they named Jules Verne, in the morning hours of April 14, and the hatch was sealed behind them. Reporters gathered at Kourou from across the world, including one from every European nation, and several from France and Italy. This was going to be a historic moment. The launch clock ticked down, and as each milestone was reached, the vehicle was safed for liftoff. Fuel transfer stopped, the vehicle was switched to internal power, the huge room of controllers each sounded off, reporting themselves as “go for launch”. At 1:03, the clock struck thirty seconds, and the countdown was soon echoed by the throngs of spectators, chanting it out loud, as if their voices would lift Chrètien and Cheli to the stars. At three seconds, the engines of the Europa 4 Heavy roared to life, first the outer boosters, and then the core. At zero, the launch clamps separated, releasing the rocket to lift off towards the sky. It soared upwards, lifting the Spationauts towards space. The rocket lifted off. Controllers in Darmstadt monitored every parameter, knowing that one little mistake could cost the crew their lives. The Europa 4 Heavy flew its normal launch profile, with the center core throttling down shortly after liftoff. At just under three minutes, the center core throttled back up, just as the booster cores began to run dry. They burned out, and were jettisoned, falling away. Less than a minute later, the vehicle passed 100 kilometers in altitude, the official boundary for space. When this was announced, massive cheers broke out across the world, wherever people were observing. Whatever happened next, Chrètien and Cheli were now, officially, the first Spationauts, having technically reached space. Even if the mission was aborted right then, their spaceflight would still count. However, everything went flawlessly, with the core burning out and the Etoile B second stage igniting, which, after it burned out, was followed by the Etoile A2, which would circularise the orbit. When the Etoile A2 burned out, the capsule Jules Verne was left in a 340 kilometer orbit, and ESRO’s first Spationauts were now in orbit. This made the agency only the fourth to accomplish this feat. Properly awarding the honor was tricky though, since all previous manned spaceflights had been launched by a single nation. Should all thirteen nations that were ESRO members be listed collectively, should the organisation be listed separately from any nation, should France and Italy receive the award? Record keeping organisations across the world would all arrive at their own solutions. But these Earthly matters did not occupy the occupants of the Jules Verne, who were too busy flying their craft. Though both Chrètien and Cheli had flown into space before, they still felt a sense of wonder, particularly because this flight was 100% European. They were not hitching a ride, they were commanding their own spacecraft. Indeed, though both of them had been Air Force pilots in their respective nations prior to joining ESRO, on their previous flights they had not been trained to fly the Apollo CSM, due to a NASA policy of not allowing foreign astronauts to fly as pilots. And so, as they orbited Earth in the Jules Verne, they would fly the Ulysses capsule, becoming the first Europeans to pilot a spacecraft. During their first day in orbit, their tasks were minimal, as they conducted a few press interviews, filmed some videos, and snapped pictures, of both inside the spacecraft and out the windows, to document their flight. After a good night’s sleep, they awoke on April 15, and began to ready themselves to put the Jules Verne through its paces. Their final planned destination, space station Liberty, was in an orbit almost 100 kilometers higher than Ulysses, whose initial parking orbit was placed low on purpose. This was to insure maneuvering room, and also to make a more challenging approach, to put the systems of Ulysses through a more rigorous test. Over the next two days, the crew would maneuver, lining up the orbit of Jules Verne with the station. On April 19, after five days in space, the station came into view out the windows of Jules Verne. The crew would make a very careful approach, monitored by the crew of Liberty. Finally, after several hours, Jules Verne would dock to the starboard port of the Harmony node. The hatch was opened, and Chrètien and Cheli boarded the station. This would bring the total complement of the station to ten, a new record. The crew would spend three days aboard Liberty, mingling with the crew. The Liberty Expedition crew members would take turn entering the Ulysses capsule, getting an up close tour of the new spacecraft. After three days, Chrètien and Cheli reboarded their capsule, and pulled away from Liberty. They would return to Earth two days later, being recovered from the Atlantic. The first Spationauts were given a hero’s welcome, being paraded throughout Europe. ESRO continued preparing for Ulysses’s debut as a crew ferry to the station, planned for December of that year. The station was becoming more and more international.
“A space station will permit quantum leaps in our research in science, communications, and in metals and lifesaving medicines which could be manufactured only in space. We want our friends to help us meet these challenges and share in their benefits. NASA will invite other countries to participate so we can strengthen peace, build prosperity, and expand liberty for all who share our goals.”
-Ronald Reagan
After being delayed for years, and exceeding the planned budget by over a billion dollars, space station Liberty was finally ready for launch in early 1989. On March 17, 1989, the core module of the station was rolled out to the pad, mounted on the final Saturn V that would ever launch, SA-619. Due to the main body of the core module being nearly twice the length of Skylab, Starlab, or the Ares Mission Modules, but still retaining the same 6.6 meter diameter, the stack had a very skinny, strange looking appearance. Despite being physically smaller than the massive PPMs that the Saturn VB had launched over the past decade, the core module of Liberty, was just as massive. The discrepancy in size was due to the low density of the liquid hydrogen propellant used by the PPMs. Spectators flocked to watch this final Saturn V launch, but not in numbers like those seen for Apollo 11 or Ares 2. Space station Liberty was to be the crux of NASA’s spaceflight policy for the next decade at minimum, and almost certainly longer. Everything was riding on this launch. In case of catastrophe, a backup launch vehicle had been earmarked, and a spare core module had been constructed, though to save money, it was not fully outfitted. Despite the backup existing, if worst came to worst and it was actually required, that would likely mean an additional year or more of delays, along with another billion dollars or two. Everyone who had gathered to watch Liberty launch waited with bated breath, and a sense of anxiety permeated Kennedy Space Center. Finally, on April 13, the countdown began. The rocket was fully fueled, all the systems were checked, and the clock ticked down. With just 14 minutes to go, the launch was scrubbed, due to a boat wandering into the maritime exclusion zone, to the frustration of all. The second launch attempt occurred four days later, on April 17, and this time, everything went smoothly. For the last time, controller went through the now familiar Saturn V launch sequence. These titanic rockets had been at the forefront of American spaceflight for more than twenty years, and were iconic symbols of spaceflight. When anyone in America thought of a rocket, they thought of the towering black and white Saturn, with its four strap on boosters. A few seconds before the clock struck zero, the massive F-1A engines ignited for what would be the last time. At zero, the solid boosters ignited, and the clamps were released, and Liberty lifted off from the pad. The vehicle rocketed into the sky, carrying America’s next space station into the sky. After the boosters burned out, they fell away, followed less than a minute later by the S-ID first stage. The F-1 engines on a Saturn V fell silent for the last time, and the S-ID tumbled away, as the J-2S engines ignited on the S-IIB upper stage. Finally, after several minutes, the S-IIB shut down, leaving the whole stack in an elliptical parking orbit. The whole thing coasted to apoapsis, where the J-2S engines of the S-IIB reignited to circularise the orbit. This feature, which had not existed on earlier versions of the Saturn V, had been introduced on the Saturn VB, as it had been required to place the PPMs into their parking orbits. Once the S-IIB had placed the stack into the correct orbit, 430 by 430 kilometers and thirty degrees, the J-2S engines shut down, and the core module separated from the stage. It drifted free, and transmitted an all clear signal to the ground. Once it was clear that the station was safely in orbit, cheers erupted from Florida, to Houston. Shortly after separation, the massive solar arrays began to unfurl. The station had four arrays, each of which was 150% the size of the arrays used by the Ares Mission Modules and Starlab, meaning Liberty had three times the surface area of solar panels. Due to to improvements in solar technology, the station produced close to four times as much power as its predecessors, providing ample margin for life support systems and experiments. Though Liberty would be augmented by modules added later, it was not really a true modular space station, in the spirit of Zvezda. All of the basic functionality of the station was self contained within the monolithic core module. The core would provide power, propulsion, life support, crew quarters, and storage to support station operations, and would even be home to around 50% of the experiments aboard station. Even if every other module was not launched at this point, be it due to funding issues or launcher explosions, the station would still be able operate fine, if under expectations. The main issue, aside from the science lost without the international lab modules, was that without the additional docking ports provided by the node modules, managing station operations would be trickier, with the four crew vehicles and three to five cargo vehicles that needed to dock with Liberty every year having trouble finding somewhere to berth. As is, Liberty had a docking adapter similar to its predecessors, in addition to a forward and rear port, leaving the baseline station with six open ports. Just two days after Liberty was launched, it would receive the first of many, many visitors. Launched by a Titan IIIM, the first operational Kronos ACV would approach the massive station, guided under remote control from the ground. It was carrying a full cargo load of the supplies and equipment that would be necessary to outfit the station. After a slow approach, it carefully inched forward, right towards the rear port of Liberty, ground controllers guided it in, but the onboard computer would make small adjustments, using laser rangefinders and signals sent from a transponder aboard the station to guide it closer, and keep it on track. As the name suggested, the Automated Cargo Vehicle was eventually intended to be able to dock under its own control, with no ground intervention. However, for safety, this first approach would involve the hybrid control system, with fine corrections being handled automatically, and the big picture stuff being handled from the ground. It successfully mated with Liberty, slightly expanding the station.
On May 25, 1989, a Saturn II lifted off from LC-34, carrying the first crew bound for Liberty. The expedition was commanded by longtime astronaut and Command Module Pilot on Apollo 15, Vance Brand. Brand was joined by Command Module Pilot John Casper, and Mission Specialists David C Hilmers, and Mary Cleave. The crew rode aboard an Apollo Block V CSM, on its maiden manned mission. The Block V was only a minor upgrade over previous CSMs, modernising the interior, and optimising the craft to support four man, six month space station operations. The Saturn II, which had been the cornerstone of NASA’s manned spaceflight missions for more than a decade, had also seen some minor modifications over the years. The RS-27 engines that powered the first stage had seen some minor improvements to their thrust and specific impulse, while manufacturing improvements to the first stage allowed a small amount of structural mass to be shaved off. These small upgrades increased the payload of the Saturn II by a hair, which, combined with mass optimisations to the CSM, meant that the Apollo Block V could carry more cargo than any other variant. The Saturn II performed as advertised, delivering Liberty Expedition 1 to a low rendezvous orbit, ready to catch up with the station. On May 27, Expedition 1 docked to Liberty on the forward port, and boarded the massive station for the first time. Though all astronauts training for Liberty missions had trained on the ground mockups of the station, and were aware of the general dimensions, the sight of the station’s interior was still mightily impressive. The station was 6.6 meters wide, just like all previous American stations, but was more than twice as long. Though the core module was divided into two, Mission Module sized pressurised compartments, with a tunnel between them, when the hatches were opened, astronauts at one end could see all the way to the other side, 30 meters away. It was quite large, to say the least. Crew members compared it less to a station, and more to a cave, or a skyscraper, depending on your position and orientation. Surrounding the tunnel that connected the two massive compartments were lots of tanks for the life support system, and a large amount of the station’s computers. The crew of Expedition 1 would dedicate their mission to setting up the station, and unpacking everything, a daunting task. They would unload the Kronos ACV, and would get to work activating organising the remainder of the station. To completely fill the 240,000 kg capability of the launch vehicle, Liberty had been filled to the brim with consumables, equipment, scientific experiments, spare parts, and everything else needed by the station. It was hoped that all of this extra “stuff” packed in would help bring the station online as quickly as possible, with fewer supply flights required. Once station operations were up and running, two to four Kronos ACVs would fly every year, but critically, unlike Starlab, no manned “milk run” supply flights would be required. The four crew members of Expedition 1 would be very, very busy with station setup during their time onboard Liberty. This inaugural flight would be marked by very full schedules, and lots of unpacking and relocating of cargo. Liberty also had state of the art amenities for the crew though, including small private quarters, a very functional kitchen that included a refrigerator, multiple toilets and showers, and plenty of leisure time activities, like a small movie theater, books, music, and board games. The same teams that had worked on keeping the Ares crew occupied and comfortable were brought in for Liberty, and did a very fine job making the station relatively comfy. After six months of hard work, the crew of Expedition 1 welcomed the crew of Expedition 2 in late October of 1989. Expedition 2, commanded by Donald Williams, with Richard Covey, Judith Resnik, and ESRO astronaut Richard Farrimond. The two crews would share the station for three weeks, an easy feat since Liberty was designed with a crew of eight in mind. After Expedition 1 departed, Expedition 2 would see the arrival of an additional Kronos ACV, bringing more supplies for the station. Also, in March of 1990, the crew of Expedition 2 would oversee the addition of the first module to Liberty. Launch on March 21, 1990 by a Saturn II, the Harmony node module was designed to provide five additional docking ports for the station, freeing up several on the current docking adapter for future modules. Harmony had been built, and mostly funded by, NASDA, the Japanese Space Agency, for NASA, in exchange for the launch of their own laboratory module to the station aboard a Saturn II. To help the module dock itself to the station, it launched attached to a small “tug module”, derived from the Block V CSM. This tug would be used to dock all of the large planned modules, providing propulsion and maneuvering capabilities, and using the same guidance systems as the Kronos ACV when it came time to dock. On March 25, under close supervision from the crew and steered by ground controllers, Harmony would be docked to the forward port of Liberty, which had been freed up as planned by the departure of Expedition 1. The module attached itself to the station, connecting to the power, life support, and maneuvering systems. On March 27, the crew would open the hatch for the first time, checking out Harmony. It was mostly empty, as aside for some minor storage use, its main responsibility was as a node and a connector. On March 30, Covey and Resnik would perform an EVA, to install several external connection points on Harmony, to make sure that it remained connected to the station, both through all of its systems, and structurally and physically. In late April of 1990, the crew of Expedition 3 would arrive, and, after a two week overlap period, the crew of Expedition 2 would return to Earth. The crew of Expedition 3 would continue with setup, but would also be the first crew to engage in any level of scientific study. Another important first would occur in July of 1990, three months into their stay, with the arrival of Expedition 4. Expedition 4 would bring the station up to its operational crew of eight. It was planned that, with crews staying on station for six months, every three months a new crew would arrive, and would stay alongside one other crew for three months, and another for the next three. The addition of four more crew made Liberty the space station with the largest ever operational crew, surpassing Zvezda. Once this crew was aboard the station, Kronos flights began picking up, from two in 1990, to four in 1991. Starting with Wubbo Ockels on Expedition 4, the station would maintain a permanent ESRO crew member, and starting with Chiaki Mukai on Expedition 6, the station would maintain a permanent Japanese crew member. While the majority of the remaining six crew were typically American, it was not unusual for a Canadian or a second ESRO astronaut to fly along as the sixth crew member. In addition, once “double shift” missions began taking place semi-regularly, starting with Expedition 9, more guest astronauts would visit the station for anywhere from two weeks to three months, taking advantage of the seat freed up, including astronauts from Brazil, Mexico, Israel, and Saudi Arabia. With a full permanent crew of eight occupying the station at all times, Liberty was declared to be at “Initial Operating Capability”. This meant that, the station could now dive into its scientific exploration in earnest, but it's capabilities would soon be expanded with the arrival of future modules.
In February of 1991, during the stay of Expeditions 5 and 6, the station would receive further expansion, with the arrival of the Japanese laboratory module Kibo. Kibo was also launched by a Saturn II, attached to the same tug module that had docked the Harmony node module. The module was designed to house Japanese and partner nation experiments. It also contained a small scientific airlock, and a vacuum exposure facility, to allow for materials, components, and experiments to be directly exposed to the harsh environment of outer space for long durations. However, due to the massive internal volume of the 240 metric ton station, a 16 metric ton lab did not meaningfully expand the station. The main use would be in providing a location for Japanese experiments to be conducted. A central experiment carried was the Centrifugal Gravity Experiment. The CGE would allow for new field of study previously impossible: long duration microgravity testing. While the space stations and the Ares missions had allowed a large amount of zero g experiments to be conducted, almost no data existed on the long term effects of Lunar or Martian gravity on biology. The CGE would use a small centrifuge that would spin up, providing up to 0.17 or 0.38 g, to simulate long term exposure to the Moon or Mars. While too small to be used for tests on mice or any large animals, tests would be possible on bacteria, and insects. This would provide useful data for any future potential Moon or Mars bases. Kibo was attached to the Zenith node of Harmony on February 13, 1991. The module was immediately put to use, with the CGE being used on microorganisms, and insects, primarily to study the effects of Lunar gravity. A Moon Base was a more realistic concept in the near future than a Mars base, and so the main field of study was centered around providing information to enable that. Kibo would be joined aboard the station in December of 1991 by the ESRO lab module Vespucci, launched by a Saturn II with the same docking tug. Like Kibo, Vespucci was intended to serve as the host for a variety of European experiments, though it did not contain the exposure platform, or the CGE, intended as a more general purpose lab. Vespucci was docked to the Nadir port, which would help to better serve one of the great features of the lab: the Cupola. The Cupola was a module built by Italy, on the far end of Vespucci, that contained a large amount of windows to provide unprecedented views of the Earth. Though the main station was massive, with many windows, they were still the same small windows that had been used since Skylab. The largest windows ever put in space would allow for fabulous photographs, fantastic video opportunities, and just a great place for astronauts to relax. To facilitate this last function without disturbing the occupants of Vespucci, the Cupola compartment contained a door that allowed it to be sealed off from the lab. Initially hypothesised as being part of the cancelled US habitat expansion module, the Cupola design had been picked up by the Italians after that module was written off, and incorporated into the ESRO module. Indeed, the Cupola would wind up being a favorite location aboard Liberty for the crew during their leisure time.
With the addition of the two foreign lab modules, space station Liberty was declared to be at “Full Operational Capacity”. The crew embarked on a full program of scientific exploration. Unlike Skylab and Starlab, previous US stations, Liberty was not intended as a testbed for duration life support for Ares, but as its own, full fledged orbital outpost. As such, though many experiments on the biological effects of microgravity were performed, the station’s crew often focused on other areas of study, and a variety of microgravity applications. The crew would use a suite of astronomical instruments to study the cosmos, looking at cosmic rays and far away galaxies. Like on Skylab, they would study the Sun in depth as well, observing the sunspots, corona, and even peering below the surface. Crews would also study zero gravity manufacturing techniques, and crystal growing, to see if there was any future in industrial or pharmaceutical space based manufacturing. In fact, some of the major US pharma companies, including Pfizer and Johnson and Johnson, would provide experiments that would be flown to the station. While the station would indeed yield some interesting results on the feasibility of in space manufacturing, the dreams of brand new alloys developed in zero g, or super drugs manufactured in space, would not really materialise, limited by the economic realities of space travel. These same factors impacted the ability for Liberty to be used as a “space dock”, where satellites and space probes might be serviced, or even manufactured. The farthest down this path Liberty would venture was as a launching point for a few NASA and student smallsat payloads. Thus, many of the fantastic dreams that the station had been partially sold on, did not materialise fully, and mostly what Liberty ended up being was a research laboratory, just like the other space stations, just a lot bigger. However, as an orbital lab, Liberty excelled. It provided more room than any other, being a cavernous, massive vessel. With eight crew aboard, a lot could be done, with much more being accomplished every hour and day than had been possible on any previous outpost. There was ample opportunity for NASA to conduct public educational outreach, filming videos aboard station to demonstrate scientific principles, or simply how the astronauts lived. Many discoveries would be made aboard Liberty, in a variety of fields. These included: the dynamics of flames and combustion in zero g, which helped explain much about the fundamentals of combustion, how microgravity affects infectious bacteria like MRSA, more data on mysterious nature of dark matter, using the Alpha Magnetic Spectrometer instrument, a new treasure trove of data on the effects of zero g, and lunar gravity environments on biology, human and otherwise, and many more scientifically valuable discoveries.
The international nature of the station was an important factor in the large ground swell of support for the station. Collaboration helped to strengthen national partnerships, help ease some budgetary issues by spreading out the cost, and help make things a bit more resistant to cancellation. The international nature of the station emerged not just in the scientific modules and experiments, but in the makeup of its crew, with a guaranteed slot for both European and Japanese astronauts. And soon, it was planned that the station would be serviced by an international fleet of vehicles, supplementing the current American ones. By 1991, ESRO’s Ulysses program was rapidly approaching its first flight. In July of 1989, a prototype of the capsule had been launched on a suborbital flight by a Europa 4 booster. The quick hop had served to test the heatshield, reentry maneuvering systems, and parachutes of the new spacecraft, along with the necessary infrastructure used to recover it. The French Frigate Duquesne would pull the first capsule from the Pacific Ocean, after a perfectly executed suborbital flight. The program as a whole was proceeding smoothly, and was surprisingly, pretty much right on schedule. The Europa 4 Heavy that was planned to launch the capsule was also proceeding smoothly, with the baseline Europa 4’s flying in 1988, and a test flight of the Heavy planned for early 1992. Though ESRO had flown their own astronauts before, aboard NASA missions, their astronaut corps was fairly small, and not ready for the high crew loads necessary to support regular operation of Ulysses. And though their astronauts normally had some aviation backgrounds, none of them had been trained as pilots in the NASA program, flying as mission specialists. The new capsule would be very advanced, with much of its operation being automated. Nevertheless, in order to command Ulysses, many of ESROs new and old astronauts would be trained to pilot the capsules. There was briefly a debate within ESRO on the terminology to use for their own indigenously launched space travelers. The British wished to retain the familiar “astronaut”, while other nations, led by the French, wished to better distinguish European space travelers by labeling them “Spationauts”. This name, though French in origin, made sense to the romance language, and related tongues, including the English, and eventually gained the backing of a majority of ESRO member states. The name was then officially adopted. An important step in advancing the capsule to flight ready status was the demonstration flight for its booster, the Europa 4 Heavy. The Heavy was rolled out to the pad at Kouru for its demo flight on January 12, 1992. The rocket was the largest ever built outside of the US or USSR, but was still modestly sized as far as rockets went. The Blue Streak derived first stage was flanked by two additional Blue Streak boosters. Stacked on top was the Etoile B second stage, powered by four HM-7B rocket engines. Stacked on top of that was an additional Etoile A2, powered by two HM-7Bs. Finally, sitting on top of all of them was a 12 metric ton Ulysses mass simulator. Externally, the stack resembled an operational Ulysses launch, with an escape tower and everything however, the mass simulator had little of the same internal components as the real thing. On January 25, the rocket lifted off on its maiden flight. Shortly after takeoff, the two engines on the center core were throttled down slightly, to save fuel. The two outer stages provided the majority of the thrust propelling the vehicle skywards. Shortly before the two outer rockets were due to burn out, the center was throttled back up to 100%. The two boosters were exhausted and fell away, leaving the center to push the stack towards orbit. When that too burned out, the upper stage ignited. Once both upper stages were expended, the payload was left in orbit, the whole mission being a success! The boilerplate, having been left on a deliberately low orbit, would fall back to Earth and burn up within three weeks. The rocket having demonstrated itself so far, the Ulysses team went ahead with the program, working towards the next planned test flight. In April, the inflight abort test was performed. This would be similar to the pad abort test which had taken place in mid 1991, in that it would demonstrate the critically important launch abort system that would pull the crew to safety in case of emergency. For the inflight abort, a Ulysses capsule with an attached escape tower, would be launched onto a brief suborbital flight by an older Blue Streak booster left over from the Europa 2 program. Less than a minute into the flight, the capsule would simulate an emergency by activating the escape tower, rockering it away from the booster, which was then destroyed by the range safety officer. The test went successfully, proving that a crew would survive, if not with dry pants, an inflight booster failure. The capsule would parachute down into the Atlantic, where it would be recovered by a waiting ship. In September of 1992, the first fully functional Ulysses capsule was delivered to Kourou, to be fitted to its launch vehicle. This vehicle was destined to fly an unmanned test flight, proving all systems to be functional before the first manned flight was made. The rocket lifted off on October 28, 1992, carrying the capsule, which had been nicknamed “Ariane” by ground crews, into space. It reached orbit successfully, where it was jettisoned from the upper stage. The solar panels on the Service Module unfolded, providing power for the craft as it began the first of its trials: maneuvering. The inflight propulsion system would be used to adjust the orbit of Ariane, making slight adjustments to the altitude and inclination. The flight computers would be tested, being instructed to rendezvous with pre-programmed waypoints as if they were actual docking targets. The guidance software was the most advanced used on any manned spacecraft, able to fly basically the entire mission without human control. It could also perform autonomous rendezvous and docking, allowing for a large degree of mission flexibility. Ulysses performed spectacularly, going through all of the motions perfectly. Also tested during this flight were the life support and electrical systems, which were put through the same level of stress that they would be on a normal flight. After five days on orbit, with everything going smoothly, and all the mission goals met, the flight was deemed successful. Ariane was deorbited, reentering and splashing down in the Atlantic, to the north of Kourou, where it would be picked up by the recovery ship.
While the Europeans worked on their spacecraft contribution to Liberty, on the other side of the world, the Japanese worked on theirs. NASDA and its contractors were hard at work developing and building both the Hayabusa cargo ship, and to a lesser extent, the Fuji manned capsule. Efforts to develop a manned spacecraft had never been abandoned, just sidelined in favor of developing the cargo vessel. Thankfully, forgiving budgets allowed work to continue on the manned capsule, even if as a side project to the main focus. The Japanese were partially funding their contribution to the station via resupply services with Hayabusa, so it was important that they get the craft up and running. Fortunately (and intentionally), development on Hayabusa assisted development on Fuji in several fields. The service modules planned to be used by the two were very similar, and the crew capsule on Fuji would just be a scaled up version of the capsule that would be used to bring pressurised cargo up and down from Liberty. This was a major advantage Hayabusa offered over Kronos, the ability to bring substantial amounts of cargo back from the station. This would allow many experiments to be returned to Earth, where their results could be analysed in-situ, a very useful feature. Hayabusa would also ease part of the load currently filled by Kronos, allowing for one of the annual ACV flights to be eliminated. This was an important contribution, because the rising price tag of the Titan IIIM launch vehicle was causing the operational cost of the Kronos ACV to rise above expectations. Because of this, development of Hayabusa was prioritised over Fuji, though development was continued in parallel. It was planned that the cargo ship would be ready by the first flight of the H-II rocket in 1993, while the manned vehicle would fly around 1995 or 1996. However, in 1991, these plans had a wrench thrown into them. The Japanese economy, which had been the second largest in the world, crashed in late 1991. The popping of the bubble would lead to a rapid decline in the Japanese economy, and would lead to the 90s being referred to as “the lost decade” in Japan. As a result of harsh economic realities, to save money, the Japanese space program's budget would be slashed. Part of this involved shelving the manned spacecraft, and delaying Hayabusa. NASDA would be put through the ringer, jumping through hoops to keep the program afloat. After some rough months, the project was close to back on track. The teams managed to keep the development of Hayabusa roughly on the schedule of the H-II rocket that would launch it. The H-II was the first 100% domestically developed Japanese liquid fueled rocket, capable of lifting 11 metric tons to orbit. It used an upper stage powered by the same LE-5 engine that had powered the Japanese upper stage of the H-I rocket, and a brand new Japanese first stage powered by an LE-7 engine, and two solid rocket boosters. Unusually, the rocket was powered by liquid hydrogen on all stages, a decision that had been made based on Japanese familiarity with hydrogen engines. Due to the low density of liquid hydrogen, the H-II was physically much larger than other rockets with similar capabilities. It was 4 meters in diameter, the width of an Energia booster. The H-II had some difficulties in development, with the maiden flight in April 1993 ending in an explosion. However, by late that year, engineers were confident that they had addressed all of the H-II’s issues. On the second H-II launch in November of 1993, a prototype Hayabusa reentry capsule was included aboard as the payload. While the H-II continued on to orbit, the capsule was left on a suborbital trajectory, which would test its heatshield during reentry. The test went perfectly, and the capsule was pulled from the sea for further analysis. The first full up flight test was now planned for 1995, with operational flights to begin shortly thereafter.
On April 14, 1993, the big day for ESRO arrived. A Ulysses capsule sat atop a Europa 4 Heavy at Kourou, and a crew sat in the ready room, preparing to pilot it to orbit. Today, the first Spationauts would fly. This was to be the manned demo flight for Ulysses, which would see the crew take it to orbit, perform some maneuvers, dock to Liberty, spend three days there, and then return to Earth. If this went well, crew ferry flights to Liberty would begin within the year. For this first mission, only two crew members were selected, partially due to the risk and unknowns involved. Commanding the mission would be the Frenchman Jean-Loup Chrètien, a veteran who had flown on NASA missions twice, once to Starlab, and once to Liberty, and had been the first French person in space. Flying alongside him would be another veteran, Italian Maurizio Cheli. Cheli had flown to Liberty on Expedition 5 in 1990. Both of these men were highly trained, and veteran astronauts, but soon they would be the first Spationauts. They boarded their capsule, which they named Jules Verne, in the morning hours of April 14, and the hatch was sealed behind them. Reporters gathered at Kourou from across the world, including one from every European nation, and several from France and Italy. This was going to be a historic moment. The launch clock ticked down, and as each milestone was reached, the vehicle was safed for liftoff. Fuel transfer stopped, the vehicle was switched to internal power, the huge room of controllers each sounded off, reporting themselves as “go for launch”. At 1:03, the clock struck thirty seconds, and the countdown was soon echoed by the throngs of spectators, chanting it out loud, as if their voices would lift Chrètien and Cheli to the stars. At three seconds, the engines of the Europa 4 Heavy roared to life, first the outer boosters, and then the core. At zero, the launch clamps separated, releasing the rocket to lift off towards the sky. It soared upwards, lifting the Spationauts towards space. The rocket lifted off. Controllers in Darmstadt monitored every parameter, knowing that one little mistake could cost the crew their lives. The Europa 4 Heavy flew its normal launch profile, with the center core throttling down shortly after liftoff. At just under three minutes, the center core throttled back up, just as the booster cores began to run dry. They burned out, and were jettisoned, falling away. Less than a minute later, the vehicle passed 100 kilometers in altitude, the official boundary for space. When this was announced, massive cheers broke out across the world, wherever people were observing. Whatever happened next, Chrètien and Cheli were now, officially, the first Spationauts, having technically reached space. Even if the mission was aborted right then, their spaceflight would still count. However, everything went flawlessly, with the core burning out and the Etoile B second stage igniting, which, after it burned out, was followed by the Etoile A2, which would circularise the orbit. When the Etoile A2 burned out, the capsule Jules Verne was left in a 340 kilometer orbit, and ESRO’s first Spationauts were now in orbit. This made the agency only the fourth to accomplish this feat. Properly awarding the honor was tricky though, since all previous manned spaceflights had been launched by a single nation. Should all thirteen nations that were ESRO members be listed collectively, should the organisation be listed separately from any nation, should France and Italy receive the award? Record keeping organisations across the world would all arrive at their own solutions. But these Earthly matters did not occupy the occupants of the Jules Verne, who were too busy flying their craft. Though both Chrètien and Cheli had flown into space before, they still felt a sense of wonder, particularly because this flight was 100% European. They were not hitching a ride, they were commanding their own spacecraft. Indeed, though both of them had been Air Force pilots in their respective nations prior to joining ESRO, on their previous flights they had not been trained to fly the Apollo CSM, due to a NASA policy of not allowing foreign astronauts to fly as pilots. And so, as they orbited Earth in the Jules Verne, they would fly the Ulysses capsule, becoming the first Europeans to pilot a spacecraft. During their first day in orbit, their tasks were minimal, as they conducted a few press interviews, filmed some videos, and snapped pictures, of both inside the spacecraft and out the windows, to document their flight. After a good night’s sleep, they awoke on April 15, and began to ready themselves to put the Jules Verne through its paces. Their final planned destination, space station Liberty, was in an orbit almost 100 kilometers higher than Ulysses, whose initial parking orbit was placed low on purpose. This was to insure maneuvering room, and also to make a more challenging approach, to put the systems of Ulysses through a more rigorous test. Over the next two days, the crew would maneuver, lining up the orbit of Jules Verne with the station. On April 19, after five days in space, the station came into view out the windows of Jules Verne. The crew would make a very careful approach, monitored by the crew of Liberty. Finally, after several hours, Jules Verne would dock to the starboard port of the Harmony node. The hatch was opened, and Chrètien and Cheli boarded the station. This would bring the total complement of the station to ten, a new record. The crew would spend three days aboard Liberty, mingling with the crew. The Liberty Expedition crew members would take turn entering the Ulysses capsule, getting an up close tour of the new spacecraft. After three days, Chrètien and Cheli reboarded their capsule, and pulled away from Liberty. They would return to Earth two days later, being recovered from the Atlantic. The first Spationauts were given a hero’s welcome, being paraded throughout Europe. ESRO continued preparing for Ulysses’s debut as a crew ferry to the station, planned for December of that year. The station was becoming more and more international.
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Part V Chapter 8 Illustrations
Here are some illustrations for Ch 8:
Europa 4 Family
Space Station Liberty
Europa 4 Family
Space Station Liberty
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Maybe it's time for the record keeping agencies to simply list "Europe". After all, from up there, it's pretty hard to distinguish borders, right?I mean, it's obvious France should get the award, the commanding officer is french afterall
If you are going to write an alt-space history about NASA, you absolutely need a sentence like this appearing prominently if you want to achieve real plausibility. Well done!
Very odd that stage 3 has half the thrust of stage 2. I would have expected a single engine on the third stage.
???
Perhaps for the same reason Starliner will use the Atlas V422 IOTL? For no Black Zones?
The normal GTO version of Europa 4 will have a single engine upper stage, but to launch Ulysses, like Bahamut said, you need a little more thrust to avoid black zones.
Part V Chapter 9
Part V Chapter 9:
“No one has a right to grade a President—even poor James Buchanan—who has not sat in his chair, examined the mail and information that came across his desk, and learned why he made his decisions.”
-President John F. Kennedy
Authors Note:
All right, this one is just a big long dump of the US and its politics in the late 80s and 90s. I promise that it is interesting though, some cool things happen. If you are just here for the space stuff, feel free to skip, as I am fairly certain that, aside from finding out who becomes president, the contents of this chapter mostly stay within this chapter, and are not mentioned again, outside of the other political chapter. Hope you enjoy.
President Gary Hart was very popular during his two terms. Hart's approval ratings remained high throughout his time in office, and his administration saw several impressive accomplishments. While running in 1984, Hart had positioned himself as a young, fresh faced candidate, bringing new ideas and new values to the Democratic party, which many felt was still stuck in the past, having never moved on from FDR and JFK. Politically, he appealed to a broad range of Democrats, being more moderate than someone like Jesse Jackson, but without seeming tired and establishment. As a handsome, charismatic leader, with a knack for witty response, and a talented orator, he reminded many of the Kennedy's. His selection of John Glenn, an astronaut and national hero, as his Vice President only helped to cement his reputation as a nontraditional politician. On the policy, front, Hart focused on what he termed the “Strategic Investment Initiative”, a large scale program aimed at investing in the improvement of American science, technology, infrastructure, and education, in the belief that money spent to improve the frameworks of the American economy would pay off in time. Under the auspices of the SII, President Hart would spearhead several high profile and majorly impactful pieces of legislation. One of the first was the American Defense Education Act, a bill based off the 1958 National Defense Education Act, and which was intended to provide funding for American universities, both to help subsidize research, and to help contain the rising costs of a college education. The act also, in addition to providing direct federal funding, incentivised states to also subsidize universities, particularly state schools. Hart also increased or at least prevented cuts to federal funding for science programs across the board. This included protecting NASA programs, and funding the Superconducting Super Collider program. The SSC was a massive particle accelerator, the largest in the world, being built in Texas, and it was hoped that it would help make major advancements in human understanding of particle physics, quantum mechanics, and the nature of the Universe. Though the expensive program had been threatened in the past, Hart managed to secure funding, citing the need for America to remain the world leader in science. Another major piece of SII legislation was the National Reconstruction Act, a bill aimed at repairing and updating the American infrastructure. The program, which would provide jobs for thousands of Americans, would work to repair, replace, or build brand new roads, bridges, highways, and railroads. This would help make American roads safer and more efficient, while replacing older infrastructure that was crumbling, some of which had been built fifty years prior under a similar program as part of Roosevelt's New Deal. However, the economy of the 1980s was in a much better state than it had been in the time of the New Deal, and so the scale of the program was smaller, as there were simply less people in unemployed, and thus a lower demand for large scale government jobs. Despite this, language was included in the bill to ensure that this program would not be a one time thing, providing only fleeting jobs. The infrastructure program would continue indefinitely, albeit at a lower rate of funding, both to maintain the jobs created by the program, and to continuously improve and repair the nations infrastructure, when necessary. In this way, Hart and the authors of the bill hoped that they would create another bedrock program, like Social Security, Medicaid, or Food Stamps, that would remain a fundamental part of the American government. These large government programs, and the taxes necessary to fund them, were not popular with Republicans, who sought to oppose them in any way possible. However Hart was helped by the fact that Democrats controlled both houses of Congress at the beginning of his term. The party would retain control of the House of Representatives until the last two years of his term, and though Republicans would take the Senate in 1988, they would never hold more than 53 seats, which limited their influence. Thus, the Democrats did not encounter much effective resistance to their programs. Pundits on the right decried the expansion of government power, and the “burdensome tax increases” (that were not much greater than tax increases passed under Reagan, and fell mostly on the upper middle, and upper class) that were needed needed to fund these “naively idealistic programs” (that found much support with scientists, economists, and policy advisors, as well as the public at large). Despite the outcry, Democrats pointed to the generally favorable public approval ratings for SII programs, as well as their own electoral success, as a mandate from the American people to continue the programs, which they proceeded to do. President Hart had always been critical of wasteful military spending, and so another main focus of his administration was to address this. Despite what his critics said, Hart would accomplish this not by seeking cuts to military spending, but instead by seeking to make programs more efficient, and by conducting audits of, and if necessary, cancelling certain projects. Hart heavily scaled back Reagan's Strategic Defense Initiative. He also saw that the vast capabilities of the US armed forces were put to use on non-military programs at home and abroad. The US Army Corps of Engineers would be heavily involved with the infrastructure programs, and the shipping and airlift capabilities of the Navy and Air Force would be put to use in a record number of foreign aid missions. The US Air Force would fly in large quantities of food during the Ethiopian famine in the early 1980s. In addition to these economic plans, Hart would also nominate three members of the Supreme Court during his time in office. One consequence of Democrats holding the presidency from 1961 to 1977 was that they were able to fill the Supreme Court with liberal leaning and moderate justices, something that did not change under Reagan, despite him nominating two very constitutionalist judges, and was only helped by Hart.
Another massively important change that occurred under Gary Hart was the ratification of the 27th Amendment to the Constitution. This Amendment would finally give the more than half a million people living in Washington DC representation in congress. For the longest time, the citizens of DC would have no say in the administration of their District, as it had been directly under the control of Congress, it had not been until 1960 that they had been granted the ability to vote for the President, under the 23rd Amendment, and the city could not even elect a mayor or city council until the passage of the DC Home Rule Act in 1973, which still contained many asterisks that further limited the power of even this small amount of home rule. The District of Columbia Voting Rights Amendment had passed in the House, and had been submitted to the states for ratification in 1978. Though Hart had nothing to do with the proposal, he became a champion of it. The proposal was set to expire August 22, 1985, and at that point, only 20 states, out of 38 necessary, had ratified the amendment. However, President Hart pushed congress to extend the deadline*, and voiced his support for groups who were acting to persuade more states to ratify the amendment. The request for an extension was approved in April of 1985, pushing the bill’s expiration date back another four years to 1989. With the President’s support helping to draw attention to the issue, and large well funded advocacy campaigns airing commercials in key states, the public was made more aware of an issue many of them had generally not even given a second thought. DC advocates adopted the classic American Revolutionary slogan “No taxation without representation”, a clever use of iconic American ideals that made some initially opposed to the idea reconsider. Opinion polls taken in 1986 showed that some 62% of Americans supported the measure, with an additional 41% agreeing with the sentiment that DC should be allowed to join the Union as a full fledged state. However, this was not in the text of the amendment, and purposefully so. The amendment stated that for the purposes of representation in Congress, election of the Presidential ticket, and amending the constitution, the District should be treated like a state, without making it one. This meant that the district would gain two Senators, one representative (with more being added if future census figures showed that a change might be warranted), and the number of electoral votes that DC could cast for the President would no longer be constrained to the same number as the least populous state (three, the same as Wyoming), as it had been under the 23rd Amendment. This last change would in fact, repeal the 23rd Amendment, though this would not have too much of an effect, since the population of DC was not high enough to qualify it for more than three electors anyway, but it helped prevent another messy fight in the future when that threshold was crossed. The crucial difference between the DC Voting Rights Amendment and proposals to make the District a state was that the amendment did not remove Congress’s final authority over DC. This careful tiptoeing approach around statehood had been deliberately chosen to prevent a massive contentious fight for power between Congress, who were given a constitutional mandate over the District, and any new State government. In August 1986, Representative Don Edwards of California, who had proposed the amendment in the first place, would cosponsor another bill, the District of Columbia Self Determination Act, along with a large bipartisan group of Representatives, including the symbolic support of the non voting shadow congress members of DC, to grant additional home rule to DC. The DCSDA would place some limits on the power of Congress to modify or place “rider” amendments on legislation passed by the District Council, but without removing Congress’s power to review DC legislation. This relatively moderate bill would indeed be passed by Congress by the end of 1986, riding a wave of public support for the people of DC. Less crucial, and not publicly stated, but still important and definitely considered, the issue of statehood was not broached to avoid the topic of potentially changing the name of the District from Washington DC (as it would be very confusing to have two states named Washington), to “New Columbia” or whatever new name was thought of, and to preclude any changes to the American flag. Though these seemed like silly reasons, they were nevertheless influential, since many Americans, for whose lives the measure would have close to little influence, might change their mind and oppose it, if it meant changing the name of the nation’s capital, or the beloved flag. Some opponents of the amendment would seize upon this, playing up American patriotism, and painting a future where the flags in millions of American homes, offices, and schools would be made obsolete, and millions would need to be spent to replace them. One Texas State Representative, when the measure was being discussed within the State House, would run television ads, saying that he had fought and his buddies had died under that flag during WWII, and that he opposed any measure that might change the flag. Somehow, the Representative had failed to realise that at the time, prior to the introduction of Hawaii and Alaska to the Union, the US flag had only been adorned with 48 stars, and that the flag he had fought for had already been changed, back in 1959. Once this was point out, the rep would pull his ads. Other opponents appealed to the Constitution, pointing out that this measure would involve repealing one Amendment (though it was an amendment that applied only to DC), and going against Article I, Section 8 of the constitution. More rational opponents argued that granting more power to DC would lead to conflicts between the District and Congress, and would vastly complicate politics in the district. Those on the other side of the aisle countered by pointing to the relatively weak home rule provisions DC would have, even after the passage of the DCSDA. They even further argued that if the District were to become a state in the future, or otherwise given total home rule, that the area around the physical buildings that made up the federal government could be excluded, and remain under the direct control of Congress, leaving the residential and business parts of the District under local control. None of the arguments against the amendment would hold much water among anyone but the strictest constitutionalist, and they generally did not sway the public at large. It was widely understood that the primary reasons there were opponents to the proposal was due to DC’s politics, and how it would vote. Being a diverse, liberal city, with a mostly black population, DC was pretty solidly blue. Ever since it had been granted the power to vote for President, it went Democratic everytime, and it was not hard to imagine that it would vote the same way when it came to its congressional delegation. While the votes for President, or a single Representative would not be that consequential, being just drops in the bucket, having essentially two additional guaranteed Democratic Senators was frightening to Republicans, who just so happened to be the group that most opponents identified with. However, this was not brought up in debates often, especially not amongst actual politicians, since it probably would not help one sides cause to state that they were against giving voting rights to half a million Americans because they might vote differently to you. That idea went against American principles. When the topic was brought up, amongst academics, by some very opinionated media commentators , or just in everyday discussion, Democrats pointed out that because of the non proportional nature of the Senate, and because Republicans had an advantage in rural states with smaller populations, the Democrats already faced disadvantages in the Senate. Despite hardline Republicans being biased against the idea, especially in the deep south, where racial fears made “giving voting power to 300,000 more Black Democrats” seem like the scariest thing in the world, the increasing level of public support for the idea eventually led to every Democratically controlled State Legislature, along with several moderate Republican ones, ratifying the amendment. This effort was assisted by the fact that Democrats had gained majorities and or Governorships in many states during the 1984 election. Finally, on April 5, 1987, the legislature of Alaska ratified the Amendment, becoming the 38th state to do so, and thus achieving the required majority to officially amend the United States Constitution.
When the news broke, activists celebrated across the country, and people went crazy in DC, with some celebration parties shutting down streets. The amendment would eventually be ratified by 42 states, with only the states of Texas, Mississippi, Alabama, Arkansas, Georgia, South Carolina, Kansas and Tennessee not ratifying it. On April 19, the US Administrator of General Services confirmed that the amendment had been through the proper procedures, and officially became part of the United States Constitution. In a speech the next day, standing next to mayor of DC Marion Barry, President Hart praised the accomplishment as “A New Day in Democracy”. Mayor Barry would soon have the responsibility of appointing interim representatives for the district, until special elections could be held. Because DC was now somewhere between a federal district and a state, the Mayor of the city would serve in a similar role to a Governor, like when it came time to fill seats in congress. Because of this, Marion Barry and future mayors of DC would be referred to by some as “the most powerful mayor in the country”, even more so than the mayor of New York, or LA, due to their strange in between status. On May 15, Mayor Barry announced that, after consultation with his advisors and the DC council, he had selected former council chairman Arrington Dixon to serve as the at large Representative of DC. For the Senators, he selected former DC mayor, and the first one to actually be elected by the people of DC after the passage of the home rule act, Walter Washington, and the current chairman of the DC council, David A. Clarke. Barry had made a point of selecting Clarke, a white man, to avoid confirming racist assumptions made by some who had been against the entire process in the first place that as the Black mayor of a majority black city, he would only pick “his own kind”. Clarke was a natural choice, because, although he was white, he had been at the forefront of both the DC Home Rule movement and the DC Voting Rights Movement. He directly participated in the civil rights movement, had run the Washington office of Martin Luther King’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference, and had been a founding member of the DC council. Also, while DC was majority black, it still had a substantial white minority, most of which were well educated and middle class, and would be very unhappy if they felt that they were left out. Nevertheless, even with addition of Clarke, the congressional delegation was majority African-American, something not seen since Reconstruction. When Walter Washington was sworn in on June 1, he became the sole Black member of the Senate, only the fourth ever, and the first Democrat. The Senate had not seen any African-American members since Massachusetts Senator Edward Brooke had left office in 1979, having been the first Black Senator to be popularly elected. On November 3, 1987, special elections were held, to allow the people to vote for their own representatives, a right they had fought hard for. Because of this, all of the representatives elected would serve partial terms, with the Representative serving just one year until the midterms in 1990. Arthur A. Clarke’s seat, being a “Class 1” Senate seat, would serve three years, until an election was held in 1990. Washington’s seat however, was a “Class 2” seat, and thus would be up for election in 1988, so if re elected, he would have to serve just a single year before his name would appear on the ballot yet again. Because of this, there was briefly a push to simply allow Washington to serve until he could be elected to a full term in 1988, so he wouldn’t have to face two elections in a little over a year. However, Mayor Barry felt that it was important to give the people of DC a chance to vote for all of their Representatives, as they had earned the right. He had discussed this with Washington before his appointment, and Washington had agreed with the decision, also emphasising the importance of giving the people a chance to vote. All of the appointees ran to actually be popularly elected in November. The Republicans did run a candidate in each race, but it was widely understood, that, just like a Democrat running in Mississippi, a Republican in DC would have a very low chance of winning. Unsurprisingly, Dixon, Washington and Clarke were re elected, and with Washington becoming only the second Black Senator to be popularly elected. Shortly after the election, Walter Washington made the surprise announcement that he would not be running for reelection in 1988, leaving his seat open for the taking. Perhaps it was because after going through one election cycle, and, at the age of 73, he could not handle another so soon, or perhaps he really did want to spend more time with his family and work on writing his book, as his official press release had said. Whatever the reason, one of the DC senate seats would be up for grabs. Candidates scrambled to file their paperwork, and get their donors in order. In February of 1988, minister, civil rights leader, and former presidential candidate Jesse Jackson announced that he would run for the seat. After that, it was pretty much over in the Democratic primary. As a civil rights hero, who had marched with Martin Luther King, and was the first African-American to get close to receiving a major party’s nomination for President, Jackson was hero to many Black people. He won the primary by more than 20 points, and in the general election in November, easily defeated the Republican nominee, former DC council member, and fellow baptist minister Jerry A. Moore Jr, winning 61% of the vote. It was noted that, in all the elections in DC thus far, the voter turnout had been fantastic, even in the primaries, with 73% of eligible adults voting in the 1987 special elections. This was probably due to the novelty of the vote, and the numbers probably would not stay that high, but the figures were still impressive, especially considering that one of the groups of people that tended to vote the least were those that lived in impoverished inner city neighborhoods, like a good chunk of DC’s residents did. The success of voting reform in DC had consequences across the nation, as the composition of Congress was permanently altered. The addition of Arrington Dixon to the House of Representatives would raise the total number of members from 435 to 436, until 1990, when, after the census, reapportionment and redistricting reduced the total back down to 435, meaning one unlucky bastard somewhere in the House was told that their district had been merged with another, and they couldn’t run for reelection in 1992. In the Senate, the number was simply raised from 100 to 102. Since new seats hadn’t been added to the chamber since 1959, 28 years prior, this meant that new seats literally had to be installed, to give Washington and Clarke, and their successors a place to sit. Pleasingly, to some perfectionist types, the addition of one extra Senator each to Classes 1 and 2 made it so that every class of Senator now contained an even 34 members. From 1987 onwards, the Washington DC delegation to the US Senate would always contain at least one African-American member, something that made it unique. Jesse Jackson would be joined in the Senate in 1993, when Carol Moseley Brown of Illinois was sworn in. After David Clarke decided not to run for reelection in 1996, after being diagnosed with lymphoma, he would be succeeded by Florence Pendleton, who would become the first female congressperson from DC, and would make the DC delegation entirely African-American, a first for the US Congress.
The success of DC voting reform was the spark that helped to reignite a similar movement in the US Territory of Puerto Rico in the late 1980s. The statehood movement, backed by the New Progressive Party, had had quiet advocates, but after they saw what happened along the banks of the Potomac, a huge campaign was begun to push for Puerto Rico to become the 51st state, or at minimum, get a deal similar to Washington DC. On the surface, it seemed like it would not be that difficult, after all, many of the same arguments that had been used to support DC could be applied to Puerto Rico. There had been half a million people in DC without a vote? In Puerto Rico there were 3.5 million. And they still could not even vote for the President! In addition, Puerto Rico was not restricted by being a special district given directly to Congress by a constitutional mandate, it was just a territory of the US. Theoretically, it would be able to join the Union in the same way that other US territories had in the past, like Tennessee, Oregon, or New Mexico. However, in reality, there were a lot of factors that made Puerto Rico’s situation a lot more complicated, and made their process potentially much more challenging than it had been for DC. For starters, not everyone on the mainland United States even knew that Puerto Rico was even part of the United States. After all, it was some Spanish speaking island in the Caribbean, and people from the island in the US were usually referred to not as Americans from Puerto Rico, but as Puerto Ricans. To some in the United States, saying that Puerto Rico should become the 51st state made just as much sense as saying that Haiti, or Jamaica should become the 51st state, or hell, why not Australia? After all, we speak the same language, unlike Puerto Rico. Without the instant name recognition that goes along with being the nation’s capital, many conversations between mainland Americans on the status of Puerto Rico would have to prefaced with an explanation of the island’s situation, and that, yes, it was part of the US already. The language barrier, along with the nearly entirely Latino population of the island, put up more mental roadblock. Though English was more common in Puerto Rico than other Spanish speaking places, only around 20% of the inhabitants spoke it fluently. To those that had disliked granting additional rights to majority Black DC, the idea of adding a star to the flag, and two more seats in the Senate, for an island full of “foreigners”, speaking another language was downright terrifying. Xenophobia would serve as a major barrier to the conversation among a certain subset of the American electorate. Also, similar fears about the political leanings of the island scared away both potential allies Republican and Democrat. In the US, Latinos generally voted for Democrats, mainly due to their higher level of poverty on average, and the tough, occasionally racist stances that Republicans took on immigration. However, Puerto Rico was very heavily Catholic, and since the Republican party was usually the American party that most appealed to heavily religious voters, especially with its stances on school prayer, abortion, gay rights, contraception, pornography, teaching of intelligent design, and so on. Puerto Rico had elected both right and left wing politicians in its history, and did not have an obvious political leaning in the same way that DC did. In some ways this was a benefit, as neither side could claim that they were only supporting Puerto Rican statehood to gain a reliable vote for their side. On the other hand, neither party wanted to be the one that died on the cross of Puerto Rico, only to have the state flip to the other party every election. Something similar had happened with Alaska, which had been predicted to be solidly Democratic, but had actually swung to more reliably vote for Republicans, many of whom had originally opposed admitting it into the Union. To make matters even more complicated, not everyone on the island was in favor of statehood. Unlike in DC, where opinion polling had put public support for voting rights and/or statehood at over 85%, opinions in Puerto Rico were more divided, with support for statehood ranging from 45-55% depending on who you asked. In 1967, a referendum had been held on the status of Puerto Rico, and 60% of voters had selected to preserve the status quo and remain a US associated commonwealth. However, the vote had been boycotted by several pro-statehood groups, so it was not considered to be a reliable measure of public opinion. Even the best numbers only put the percentage in favor of statehood at a simple majority, not the overwhelming consensus of DC. The division was such that the two primary political parties of the island being differentiated in part, by whether they supported the status quo, or statehood. The Partido Popular Democrático (Popular Democratic Party, PND), a center left party that had been in power more often than it hadn’t throughout the history of the island, was in favor of maintaining the status quo. Meanwhile, the Partido Nuevo Progresista (New Progressive Party, PNP), a center right party, was in favor of statehood. The fringe Partido Independentista Puertorriqueño (Puerto Rican Independence Party, PIP) advocated for the total independence of Puerto Rico from the US, but they never managed to capture more than 2.5% of the vote. The division over statehood existed because there was a legitimate debate to be had. In the same way that many Americans felt separate from an island in the Caribbean that spoke Spanish, many inhabitants of Puerto Rico felt alienated by the US, as a place that was linguistically and culturally different, feeling more kindred to their neighbours in the Dominican Republic, or even Mexico. In addition, unlike in DC, which had simply been part of the US that, if you happen to live in it, you didn’t representation in Congress, Puerto Rico’s status as an unincorporated territory of the United States conferred upon it some benefits and some disadvantages. The first and most obvious disadvantage was the disenfranchisement. Puerto Ricans, despite being American citizens, living on American soil, were not allowed to vote in US elections, had no senators, no representatives, nothing. Unlike DC however, they were allowed a level of self governance similar to a US state, with Governor, Senate, House, and Supreme Court. Still, to be subject to most of the laws of nation across the water from you, laws you couldn’t vote on, felt a little too much like colonialism to many Puerto Ricans. On the benefits side, Puerto Ricans were exempt from federal income tax, and some US law did not apply on the island. In addition, the aforementioned cultural and linguistic differences made some Puerto Ricans uncomfortable with becoming part of the US, the same as Connecticut, or Iowa. In response, some pro statehood advocates would point to Hawaii, which had a unique history, culture, was in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and even had a non-White majority, or Utah, which, though it was very White, had its own unique cultural identity stemming from the Mormon church. These points were shot down by pro status quo activists, who argued Puerto Rico was different, and the debate continued.
However, when news of what had happened in DC got to the island, how people campaigned in every state, how there had been a groundswell of popular support, and how the campaign was ultimately successful, it struck a nerve in Puerto Rico. A rising number of pro statehood, and anti-colonialist protestors, activists, and political candidates began appearing, and Governor Rafael Hernández Colón, of the PND party began to grow nervous. In the 1988 elections in Puerto Rico, the pro-statehood PNP party swept to an absolute majority in the Senate and the House of Representatives. Colón managed to hold on to the governor’s office, likely due to his high approval ratings, and long political career, which made many Puerto Ricans see him as experienced and trustworthy, his reelection in 1988 making him the first governor to win three terms in office. However, Colón found himself basically stuck, since his party had lost control of the other two houses of government. Under the leadership of Congressman Pedro Roselló, the PNP began organising, planning to hold a referendum on the status of Puerto Rico. While statehood had always been a talking point and a plank in the platform of PNP, under the leadership of Roselló, it became the central issue of the party. When Colón made it clear he would not support such a plan, the PNP began conducting local plebiscites, to try and gauge what the public’s opinion really was on the matter. When PNP began publishing results that showed independence holding a strong lead, Colón relented, and agreed to allow a general referendum on the future status of Puerto Rico. He believed that the pro-statehood movement was just a noisy minority, who had managed to get their members out to the poles for the previous elections. He hoped that the referendum would proved that the majority of Puerto Ricans were not ready for statehood. Hopefully, by 1992, the invigorating motivator that had been the DC amendment would be out of people’s minds, and the PND would be able to hold onto the Governor’s mansion, and take back congress. And so the referendum went ahead. There was some minor disagreement between the two sides over the phrasing of the question. Colón had wanted a simple “Are you happy with the Current Status of Puerto Rico?”, Sí o No question, while the PNP pushed for the referendum to specifically list the options of “Commonwealth” and “Statehood”. In the end, Colón agreed, but on the condition that “Free Association/Independence” also be an option. In this way he hoped to to split the vote. In the lead up to the vote, both sides ran aggressive ad campaigns, with the PND emphasising the good economy and how a move towards statehood would lead the island down and uncertain path, tying them up for years, for potentially nothing. The PNP however, ran ads showing the people of Washington DC celebrating in the streets, with text that read: “They fought for their rights, will you do the same?”. The also made liberal use of the main slogan of the ad campaign, No más colonialismo, no more colonialism. The referendum occurred on March 13, 1990. Because the referendum was agreed to by both parties, neither side boycotted the referendum, and turnout was fairly high, at 68.5%. When the votes were tallied on the morning after, the results were a surprise to pretty much everyone, but especially Colón. 59% of voters had selected Statehood, and, surprisingly, 9% had selected Free Association/Independence, leaving only 32% in favor of continuing the status quo. It was an overwhelming victory for the PNP, who saw the results as a mandate for them to stop talking about independence, and start working towards it. The PNP would retain control of both houses in the 1992 elections, and Pedro Roselló was elected Governor. He immediately began working towards his goal, making diplomatic channels with the mainland. As another, symbolic but powerful measure, Roselló decided to appoint Puerto Rican “Shadow Congresspeople”. He would appoint, and the people would later vote for, two Senators, and two Representatives that would travel to DC. Though these Congresspeople would not be allowed to vote, they would spend their time in DC advocating for the island, and getting people used to the idea of Puerto Rican Representatives. It was hoped that this high profile decision would help shine a spotlight on Puerto Rico’s situation, and hopefully bring about a level of public support like that DC had gotten. Congress, after some debate, decided to allow the shadow members to attend sessions of Congress, but would not allow them to vote, would not allow them in meetings relating to national security, and would not even give them desks within the chambers of Congress. Nevertheless, by the early 1990s, in the aftermath of what had happened to the District of Columbia, a renewed debate on the status of Puerto Rico had begun within the United States. Only time would tell if the movement made any progress.
Unlike with the DC issue, while President Hart made a few comments that threw some light support towards Puerto Rico, he did not take a firm stand. Perhaps he did not want to anger people who otherwise supported him, but disagreed on Puerto Rico, or perhaps he was actually unsure on the issue. Whatever the case, many Puerto Rico advocates found themselves very disappointed by his weak stance on the issue. After all, Hart was a very respected, well liked President, who might have been able to lend real credibility to the movement. Hart’s approval ratings were some of the highest since the early days of Robert Kennedy. In 1988, he soundly defeated the Republican ticket of Bob Dole and former California Senator Pete Wilson. In fact, except for Lyndon Johnson’s drop in the polls due to his handling of Vietnam, the past three US presidents, despite being from across the political spectrum, were pretty popular with the public as a whole. Despite many conservatives disliking Hart, with some calling him a “Socialist”, the public seemed to hold a favorable view of his administration, and his policies were generally popular. Hart earned much respect for his accomplishments in foreign relations. He sought peace and cooperation wherever possible, as opposed to the combative, aggressive foreign policy of his predecessor. Hart worked towards, and largely succeed at improving relations with the Soviet Union, with things particularly picking up once Gorbachev took office. Hart took many steps towards nuclear non proliferation, leading the talks to revive the Strategic Arms Limitations Treaty, which Reagan had let expire after the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan soured relations between East and West. When things started to go downhill for the Soviets during Hart’s second term, Hart would earn the respect of historians for “not doing a victory lap”, and continuing to work with the changing government in Moscow. Hart would also oversee the imposition of additional sanctions of Apartheid South Africa. However, the foreign policy decision that would garner Hart the most criticism, even though he had little to do with it, would be the 1987 Cairo Accords. Ever since the establishment of Israel in 1948, there had been near constant conflict between it and the Arab world. Though initially it had been planned for the Arab population of the former British Mandatory Palestine to have their own state, this had never been achieved, and soon, the territories not occupied by Israel after the ceasefire for the first war was over, the Gaza strip, and the West Bank, fell under the control of Egypt and Jordan specifically. After Egypt closed the straits of Tiran to Israel in 1967, Israel attacked Egypt, Jordan, and Syria in what was the Six Day War. They quickly occupied all of the former Palestinian territory, as well as the Sinai peninsula, the Golan Heights in Syria, and even took control of the Suez Canal. Another war would be fought in 1973, the Yom Kippur war, in which the Egyptians seized the Suez Canal once more, but little else about the status quo would change. Through the Camp David Accords, in 1976**, and other negotiations, Israel would eventually retreat from the Sinai Peninsula, and return it to Egypt. Also, relations between Israel, Egypt, and Jordan would be slightly normalised, if not made friendly. Israel did not relinquish the Golan Heights or the occupied Palestinian territories however. Also, when Israel offered to Egypt to hand over the Gaza strip, Egypt would refuse, not wanting the territory. However, after years of stalled negotiations, in 1985, under the mediation of Egypt, and the United States, Jordan and Israel sat down in Alexandria to discuss the matter of the West Bank. The West Bank comprised the majority of Palestinian claimed territory, and had been controlled by Jordan prior to 1967. The Israelis had been having serious issues with the territory, and were inclined to give the responsibility over to someone else. Jordan too, was interested, because in addition to the national prestige, and the desire to see the Palestinians free from Israel, control of the territory would give the Jordanians considerable rights over the Dead Sea, as they would now control the majority of the coastline. Thus, discussions began on the handover of the West Bank to Jordan. The Arab League, though they did not participate, did not issue any statement against the negotiations, as they recognised Jordan as the nation with the strongest claim to the territory***. Noticeably absent at the talks was any kind of representation for the Palestinian people. Israel was willing to give the territory to Jordan, but only if it's control of other territories was not affected or discussed, and only if it's annexation of East Jerusalem was accepted. Jordan wished to annex the West Bank, and would accept Israeli control over Jerusalem, but only if free passage to the holy city was permitted for Muslims, particularly those from Palestine and Jordan. After weeks of negotiations, a formal agreement was reached. The West Bank, except for East Jerusalem would become a semi-autonomous region of Jordan, with all Palestinians becoming Jordanian citizens, free travel for Pilgrims was allowed to the holy city, the rights of Arab citizens within Israel would not be affected, and citizens of East Jerusalem would be allowed to choose whether to become Israeli citizens, or Jordanian ones. On November 13, 1985, the Alexandria Accords were signed, to the celebration of many. The West and the East generally celebrated the move, citing it as a step towards peace in the Middle East. However, the reaction within the Middle East was mixed. Many hardliners saw Jordan and Egypt as traitors. Others who had argued for a two state solutions still believed that the sovereign rights of Palestinians were being violated. The issue of the Gaza strip or the Golan Heights had not been addressed. In addition, a step towards peace was actually a bad thing for several authoritarian leaders, who were used to using the plight of the poor Palestinians, and the evil Israelis as issues to unite the people around. In addition, within the West Bank itself, there was controversy. While some were happy that they were now part of an Arab state, some felt that they had simply exchanged one overlord for another. The Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine would continue to fight a campaign for the freedom of Palestine, but against the Kingdom of Jordan. There was even some pushback within the US from right wing pro-Israeli elements, and there was resistance in Israel from hardliners who believed that a massive swathe of Israeli territory was being given up. Nevertheless, especially for the Democratic base, the Alexandria Accords generally worked in President Hart’s favor, as someone who would work towards peace across the world. On June 10, 1986, the 70th anniversary of the Arab Revolt, the Jordanian flag was hoisted over the West Bank, and it officially became part of Jordan. Though this was only the beginning of a long process, and peace would not descend over the Middle East all at once, a step had been taken towards peace.
By the end of his term, Gary Hart was already regarded by many as a successful president. Nevertheless, the right, who had never really liked Hart, was ready to take back the White House. By 1991, they had taken control of both houses of Congress, and the Presidential Primaries were already underway. Vice President Glenn had surprised many people by not deciding to run, and so on both sides of the aisle, there was a rush of candidates, all competing for the top job. The Republicans were still dealing with the same internal struggle that they had faced in 1984, that between the Reaganite conservatives, and the more moderate establishment. However, the strength of the conservatives had swelled in recent years, and the Republican base had grown somewhat tired of the status quo. This quickly became clear in the primaries, as establishment candidates like Utah Senator Orrin Hatch, California Senator and former VP nominee Pete Wilson, and former Governor of Tennessee Lamar Alexander, fell behind in the primaries. Eventually, three unorthodox front runners emerged, each unique in their own way. Conservative commentator and author Pat Buchanan, who represented the far social right pulled a strong third place, after winning second in Iowa. Businessman Steve Forbes emerged as the second place candidate, running on a flat income tax, and other right wing, Reaganesque economic issues. However, the front runner was freshman Senator from Arizona, and Vietnam war hero, John McCain. Though initially dismissed by many as a long shot, due to his relatively brief political career, and a scandal in 1988, that though he had been mostly exonerated in, still was seen as a blemish on his career, McCain was very popular, for his Maverick reputation and brash speaking manner. He argued for a stronger position on Communism and was generally more hawkish, but was also known for a degree of bipartisanship and broke with the Republicans occasionally on issues he believed in. He argued for campaign finance reform, making it a central issue of his campaign. McCain was difficult to categorize politically, but he was anti-establishment and was definitely seen as a man of principles. By March of 1992, McCain had gone from being the frontrunner, to the presumptive Republican nominee. The Democrats similarly found themselves in an open field after vice president Glenn announced that he would not run. A large field of candidates was eventually whittled down to a contest between Massachusetts governor Michael Dukakis and Arkansas governor Bill Clinton. Clinton was the initial frontrunner, portraying himself as the young, charismatic moderate, very similar to Gary Hart’s campaign. Dukakis, meanwhile was seen as the more liberal candidate, which was either a plus or a minus, depending on who you asked. Eventually, Clinton would emerge victorious, due to his appeal to both Southern and Black voters. Clinton was charming, and it was hoped that his southern charm would help him carry some Southern states in the general, which were typically seen as the realm of the GOP ever since 1964. At their respective conventions, the nominees would officially select their running mates, going in opposite directions with their choices. To further shore up his southern advantage, Clinton would select Tennessee Senator Al Gore. McCain however, decided to instead address his weaknesses, and selected Texas Senator Phil Gramm, to counter those who attacked him on his “lack of political experience”. In the general election, polls were very close. The candidates both had record approval ratings, and both received support from across the aisle, both being relatively young, and unorthodox presidential candidates. The election would come down to the wire. In the end, the results were very unusual looking. True to expectations, Clinton carried some southern states, Arkansas, Tennessee, Louisiana, and Kentucky. However, McCain would carry some more typically Democratic states, like Pennsylvania, Colorado, and Ohio. In the end, after a razor thin margin, John McCain was elected the next president of the United States.
*IOTL, this was not possible, due to the deadline being written into the text of the bill, but here, due to butterflies, the amendment was worded differently, which allowed it to be extended once public support was high enough to warrant doing so.
**Talks begin earlier under RFK, because I figured once Reagan took over in 1977, there would be less of a cordial atmosphere.
***IOTL, they recognised the PLO as controlling the territory in 1974, overruling the Jordanian claim. ITTL, the PLO loses a great deal of support from even the Arab world due to a series of horrific terrorist attacks, including an bombing in 1972 that inadvertently destroyed a school bus, killing 44 Israeli schoolchildren, attacks by more militant anti-Israeli members of the PLO against pro-peace protestors in 1975, and the bombing of the newly established Egyptian embassy in Tel Aviv in 1979, that leads to the death of the Egyptian ambassador. These attacks lead to the PLO being diplomatically isolated, and Jordan's claim to the West Bank being credible. Also, all this is a work of fiction and does not necessarily represent my views on the Israel-Palestine dispute, please do not get mad at me, this is purely an intellectual exercise.
“No one has a right to grade a President—even poor James Buchanan—who has not sat in his chair, examined the mail and information that came across his desk, and learned why he made his decisions.”
-President John F. Kennedy
Authors Note:
All right, this one is just a big long dump of the US and its politics in the late 80s and 90s. I promise that it is interesting though, some cool things happen. If you are just here for the space stuff, feel free to skip, as I am fairly certain that, aside from finding out who becomes president, the contents of this chapter mostly stay within this chapter, and are not mentioned again, outside of the other political chapter. Hope you enjoy.
President Gary Hart was very popular during his two terms. Hart's approval ratings remained high throughout his time in office, and his administration saw several impressive accomplishments. While running in 1984, Hart had positioned himself as a young, fresh faced candidate, bringing new ideas and new values to the Democratic party, which many felt was still stuck in the past, having never moved on from FDR and JFK. Politically, he appealed to a broad range of Democrats, being more moderate than someone like Jesse Jackson, but without seeming tired and establishment. As a handsome, charismatic leader, with a knack for witty response, and a talented orator, he reminded many of the Kennedy's. His selection of John Glenn, an astronaut and national hero, as his Vice President only helped to cement his reputation as a nontraditional politician. On the policy, front, Hart focused on what he termed the “Strategic Investment Initiative”, a large scale program aimed at investing in the improvement of American science, technology, infrastructure, and education, in the belief that money spent to improve the frameworks of the American economy would pay off in time. Under the auspices of the SII, President Hart would spearhead several high profile and majorly impactful pieces of legislation. One of the first was the American Defense Education Act, a bill based off the 1958 National Defense Education Act, and which was intended to provide funding for American universities, both to help subsidize research, and to help contain the rising costs of a college education. The act also, in addition to providing direct federal funding, incentivised states to also subsidize universities, particularly state schools. Hart also increased or at least prevented cuts to federal funding for science programs across the board. This included protecting NASA programs, and funding the Superconducting Super Collider program. The SSC was a massive particle accelerator, the largest in the world, being built in Texas, and it was hoped that it would help make major advancements in human understanding of particle physics, quantum mechanics, and the nature of the Universe. Though the expensive program had been threatened in the past, Hart managed to secure funding, citing the need for America to remain the world leader in science. Another major piece of SII legislation was the National Reconstruction Act, a bill aimed at repairing and updating the American infrastructure. The program, which would provide jobs for thousands of Americans, would work to repair, replace, or build brand new roads, bridges, highways, and railroads. This would help make American roads safer and more efficient, while replacing older infrastructure that was crumbling, some of which had been built fifty years prior under a similar program as part of Roosevelt's New Deal. However, the economy of the 1980s was in a much better state than it had been in the time of the New Deal, and so the scale of the program was smaller, as there were simply less people in unemployed, and thus a lower demand for large scale government jobs. Despite this, language was included in the bill to ensure that this program would not be a one time thing, providing only fleeting jobs. The infrastructure program would continue indefinitely, albeit at a lower rate of funding, both to maintain the jobs created by the program, and to continuously improve and repair the nations infrastructure, when necessary. In this way, Hart and the authors of the bill hoped that they would create another bedrock program, like Social Security, Medicaid, or Food Stamps, that would remain a fundamental part of the American government. These large government programs, and the taxes necessary to fund them, were not popular with Republicans, who sought to oppose them in any way possible. However Hart was helped by the fact that Democrats controlled both houses of Congress at the beginning of his term. The party would retain control of the House of Representatives until the last two years of his term, and though Republicans would take the Senate in 1988, they would never hold more than 53 seats, which limited their influence. Thus, the Democrats did not encounter much effective resistance to their programs. Pundits on the right decried the expansion of government power, and the “burdensome tax increases” (that were not much greater than tax increases passed under Reagan, and fell mostly on the upper middle, and upper class) that were needed needed to fund these “naively idealistic programs” (that found much support with scientists, economists, and policy advisors, as well as the public at large). Despite the outcry, Democrats pointed to the generally favorable public approval ratings for SII programs, as well as their own electoral success, as a mandate from the American people to continue the programs, which they proceeded to do. President Hart had always been critical of wasteful military spending, and so another main focus of his administration was to address this. Despite what his critics said, Hart would accomplish this not by seeking cuts to military spending, but instead by seeking to make programs more efficient, and by conducting audits of, and if necessary, cancelling certain projects. Hart heavily scaled back Reagan's Strategic Defense Initiative. He also saw that the vast capabilities of the US armed forces were put to use on non-military programs at home and abroad. The US Army Corps of Engineers would be heavily involved with the infrastructure programs, and the shipping and airlift capabilities of the Navy and Air Force would be put to use in a record number of foreign aid missions. The US Air Force would fly in large quantities of food during the Ethiopian famine in the early 1980s. In addition to these economic plans, Hart would also nominate three members of the Supreme Court during his time in office. One consequence of Democrats holding the presidency from 1961 to 1977 was that they were able to fill the Supreme Court with liberal leaning and moderate justices, something that did not change under Reagan, despite him nominating two very constitutionalist judges, and was only helped by Hart.
Another massively important change that occurred under Gary Hart was the ratification of the 27th Amendment to the Constitution. This Amendment would finally give the more than half a million people living in Washington DC representation in congress. For the longest time, the citizens of DC would have no say in the administration of their District, as it had been directly under the control of Congress, it had not been until 1960 that they had been granted the ability to vote for the President, under the 23rd Amendment, and the city could not even elect a mayor or city council until the passage of the DC Home Rule Act in 1973, which still contained many asterisks that further limited the power of even this small amount of home rule. The District of Columbia Voting Rights Amendment had passed in the House, and had been submitted to the states for ratification in 1978. Though Hart had nothing to do with the proposal, he became a champion of it. The proposal was set to expire August 22, 1985, and at that point, only 20 states, out of 38 necessary, had ratified the amendment. However, President Hart pushed congress to extend the deadline*, and voiced his support for groups who were acting to persuade more states to ratify the amendment. The request for an extension was approved in April of 1985, pushing the bill’s expiration date back another four years to 1989. With the President’s support helping to draw attention to the issue, and large well funded advocacy campaigns airing commercials in key states, the public was made more aware of an issue many of them had generally not even given a second thought. DC advocates adopted the classic American Revolutionary slogan “No taxation without representation”, a clever use of iconic American ideals that made some initially opposed to the idea reconsider. Opinion polls taken in 1986 showed that some 62% of Americans supported the measure, with an additional 41% agreeing with the sentiment that DC should be allowed to join the Union as a full fledged state. However, this was not in the text of the amendment, and purposefully so. The amendment stated that for the purposes of representation in Congress, election of the Presidential ticket, and amending the constitution, the District should be treated like a state, without making it one. This meant that the district would gain two Senators, one representative (with more being added if future census figures showed that a change might be warranted), and the number of electoral votes that DC could cast for the President would no longer be constrained to the same number as the least populous state (three, the same as Wyoming), as it had been under the 23rd Amendment. This last change would in fact, repeal the 23rd Amendment, though this would not have too much of an effect, since the population of DC was not high enough to qualify it for more than three electors anyway, but it helped prevent another messy fight in the future when that threshold was crossed. The crucial difference between the DC Voting Rights Amendment and proposals to make the District a state was that the amendment did not remove Congress’s final authority over DC. This careful tiptoeing approach around statehood had been deliberately chosen to prevent a massive contentious fight for power between Congress, who were given a constitutional mandate over the District, and any new State government. In August 1986, Representative Don Edwards of California, who had proposed the amendment in the first place, would cosponsor another bill, the District of Columbia Self Determination Act, along with a large bipartisan group of Representatives, including the symbolic support of the non voting shadow congress members of DC, to grant additional home rule to DC. The DCSDA would place some limits on the power of Congress to modify or place “rider” amendments on legislation passed by the District Council, but without removing Congress’s power to review DC legislation. This relatively moderate bill would indeed be passed by Congress by the end of 1986, riding a wave of public support for the people of DC. Less crucial, and not publicly stated, but still important and definitely considered, the issue of statehood was not broached to avoid the topic of potentially changing the name of the District from Washington DC (as it would be very confusing to have two states named Washington), to “New Columbia” or whatever new name was thought of, and to preclude any changes to the American flag. Though these seemed like silly reasons, they were nevertheless influential, since many Americans, for whose lives the measure would have close to little influence, might change their mind and oppose it, if it meant changing the name of the nation’s capital, or the beloved flag. Some opponents of the amendment would seize upon this, playing up American patriotism, and painting a future where the flags in millions of American homes, offices, and schools would be made obsolete, and millions would need to be spent to replace them. One Texas State Representative, when the measure was being discussed within the State House, would run television ads, saying that he had fought and his buddies had died under that flag during WWII, and that he opposed any measure that might change the flag. Somehow, the Representative had failed to realise that at the time, prior to the introduction of Hawaii and Alaska to the Union, the US flag had only been adorned with 48 stars, and that the flag he had fought for had already been changed, back in 1959. Once this was point out, the rep would pull his ads. Other opponents appealed to the Constitution, pointing out that this measure would involve repealing one Amendment (though it was an amendment that applied only to DC), and going against Article I, Section 8 of the constitution. More rational opponents argued that granting more power to DC would lead to conflicts between the District and Congress, and would vastly complicate politics in the district. Those on the other side of the aisle countered by pointing to the relatively weak home rule provisions DC would have, even after the passage of the DCSDA. They even further argued that if the District were to become a state in the future, or otherwise given total home rule, that the area around the physical buildings that made up the federal government could be excluded, and remain under the direct control of Congress, leaving the residential and business parts of the District under local control. None of the arguments against the amendment would hold much water among anyone but the strictest constitutionalist, and they generally did not sway the public at large. It was widely understood that the primary reasons there were opponents to the proposal was due to DC’s politics, and how it would vote. Being a diverse, liberal city, with a mostly black population, DC was pretty solidly blue. Ever since it had been granted the power to vote for President, it went Democratic everytime, and it was not hard to imagine that it would vote the same way when it came to its congressional delegation. While the votes for President, or a single Representative would not be that consequential, being just drops in the bucket, having essentially two additional guaranteed Democratic Senators was frightening to Republicans, who just so happened to be the group that most opponents identified with. However, this was not brought up in debates often, especially not amongst actual politicians, since it probably would not help one sides cause to state that they were against giving voting rights to half a million Americans because they might vote differently to you. That idea went against American principles. When the topic was brought up, amongst academics, by some very opinionated media commentators , or just in everyday discussion, Democrats pointed out that because of the non proportional nature of the Senate, and because Republicans had an advantage in rural states with smaller populations, the Democrats already faced disadvantages in the Senate. Despite hardline Republicans being biased against the idea, especially in the deep south, where racial fears made “giving voting power to 300,000 more Black Democrats” seem like the scariest thing in the world, the increasing level of public support for the idea eventually led to every Democratically controlled State Legislature, along with several moderate Republican ones, ratifying the amendment. This effort was assisted by the fact that Democrats had gained majorities and or Governorships in many states during the 1984 election. Finally, on April 5, 1987, the legislature of Alaska ratified the Amendment, becoming the 38th state to do so, and thus achieving the required majority to officially amend the United States Constitution.
When the news broke, activists celebrated across the country, and people went crazy in DC, with some celebration parties shutting down streets. The amendment would eventually be ratified by 42 states, with only the states of Texas, Mississippi, Alabama, Arkansas, Georgia, South Carolina, Kansas and Tennessee not ratifying it. On April 19, the US Administrator of General Services confirmed that the amendment had been through the proper procedures, and officially became part of the United States Constitution. In a speech the next day, standing next to mayor of DC Marion Barry, President Hart praised the accomplishment as “A New Day in Democracy”. Mayor Barry would soon have the responsibility of appointing interim representatives for the district, until special elections could be held. Because DC was now somewhere between a federal district and a state, the Mayor of the city would serve in a similar role to a Governor, like when it came time to fill seats in congress. Because of this, Marion Barry and future mayors of DC would be referred to by some as “the most powerful mayor in the country”, even more so than the mayor of New York, or LA, due to their strange in between status. On May 15, Mayor Barry announced that, after consultation with his advisors and the DC council, he had selected former council chairman Arrington Dixon to serve as the at large Representative of DC. For the Senators, he selected former DC mayor, and the first one to actually be elected by the people of DC after the passage of the home rule act, Walter Washington, and the current chairman of the DC council, David A. Clarke. Barry had made a point of selecting Clarke, a white man, to avoid confirming racist assumptions made by some who had been against the entire process in the first place that as the Black mayor of a majority black city, he would only pick “his own kind”. Clarke was a natural choice, because, although he was white, he had been at the forefront of both the DC Home Rule movement and the DC Voting Rights Movement. He directly participated in the civil rights movement, had run the Washington office of Martin Luther King’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference, and had been a founding member of the DC council. Also, while DC was majority black, it still had a substantial white minority, most of which were well educated and middle class, and would be very unhappy if they felt that they were left out. Nevertheless, even with addition of Clarke, the congressional delegation was majority African-American, something not seen since Reconstruction. When Walter Washington was sworn in on June 1, he became the sole Black member of the Senate, only the fourth ever, and the first Democrat. The Senate had not seen any African-American members since Massachusetts Senator Edward Brooke had left office in 1979, having been the first Black Senator to be popularly elected. On November 3, 1987, special elections were held, to allow the people to vote for their own representatives, a right they had fought hard for. Because of this, all of the representatives elected would serve partial terms, with the Representative serving just one year until the midterms in 1990. Arthur A. Clarke’s seat, being a “Class 1” Senate seat, would serve three years, until an election was held in 1990. Washington’s seat however, was a “Class 2” seat, and thus would be up for election in 1988, so if re elected, he would have to serve just a single year before his name would appear on the ballot yet again. Because of this, there was briefly a push to simply allow Washington to serve until he could be elected to a full term in 1988, so he wouldn’t have to face two elections in a little over a year. However, Mayor Barry felt that it was important to give the people of DC a chance to vote for all of their Representatives, as they had earned the right. He had discussed this with Washington before his appointment, and Washington had agreed with the decision, also emphasising the importance of giving the people a chance to vote. All of the appointees ran to actually be popularly elected in November. The Republicans did run a candidate in each race, but it was widely understood, that, just like a Democrat running in Mississippi, a Republican in DC would have a very low chance of winning. Unsurprisingly, Dixon, Washington and Clarke were re elected, and with Washington becoming only the second Black Senator to be popularly elected. Shortly after the election, Walter Washington made the surprise announcement that he would not be running for reelection in 1988, leaving his seat open for the taking. Perhaps it was because after going through one election cycle, and, at the age of 73, he could not handle another so soon, or perhaps he really did want to spend more time with his family and work on writing his book, as his official press release had said. Whatever the reason, one of the DC senate seats would be up for grabs. Candidates scrambled to file their paperwork, and get their donors in order. In February of 1988, minister, civil rights leader, and former presidential candidate Jesse Jackson announced that he would run for the seat. After that, it was pretty much over in the Democratic primary. As a civil rights hero, who had marched with Martin Luther King, and was the first African-American to get close to receiving a major party’s nomination for President, Jackson was hero to many Black people. He won the primary by more than 20 points, and in the general election in November, easily defeated the Republican nominee, former DC council member, and fellow baptist minister Jerry A. Moore Jr, winning 61% of the vote. It was noted that, in all the elections in DC thus far, the voter turnout had been fantastic, even in the primaries, with 73% of eligible adults voting in the 1987 special elections. This was probably due to the novelty of the vote, and the numbers probably would not stay that high, but the figures were still impressive, especially considering that one of the groups of people that tended to vote the least were those that lived in impoverished inner city neighborhoods, like a good chunk of DC’s residents did. The success of voting reform in DC had consequences across the nation, as the composition of Congress was permanently altered. The addition of Arrington Dixon to the House of Representatives would raise the total number of members from 435 to 436, until 1990, when, after the census, reapportionment and redistricting reduced the total back down to 435, meaning one unlucky bastard somewhere in the House was told that their district had been merged with another, and they couldn’t run for reelection in 1992. In the Senate, the number was simply raised from 100 to 102. Since new seats hadn’t been added to the chamber since 1959, 28 years prior, this meant that new seats literally had to be installed, to give Washington and Clarke, and their successors a place to sit. Pleasingly, to some perfectionist types, the addition of one extra Senator each to Classes 1 and 2 made it so that every class of Senator now contained an even 34 members. From 1987 onwards, the Washington DC delegation to the US Senate would always contain at least one African-American member, something that made it unique. Jesse Jackson would be joined in the Senate in 1993, when Carol Moseley Brown of Illinois was sworn in. After David Clarke decided not to run for reelection in 1996, after being diagnosed with lymphoma, he would be succeeded by Florence Pendleton, who would become the first female congressperson from DC, and would make the DC delegation entirely African-American, a first for the US Congress.
The success of DC voting reform was the spark that helped to reignite a similar movement in the US Territory of Puerto Rico in the late 1980s. The statehood movement, backed by the New Progressive Party, had had quiet advocates, but after they saw what happened along the banks of the Potomac, a huge campaign was begun to push for Puerto Rico to become the 51st state, or at minimum, get a deal similar to Washington DC. On the surface, it seemed like it would not be that difficult, after all, many of the same arguments that had been used to support DC could be applied to Puerto Rico. There had been half a million people in DC without a vote? In Puerto Rico there were 3.5 million. And they still could not even vote for the President! In addition, Puerto Rico was not restricted by being a special district given directly to Congress by a constitutional mandate, it was just a territory of the US. Theoretically, it would be able to join the Union in the same way that other US territories had in the past, like Tennessee, Oregon, or New Mexico. However, in reality, there were a lot of factors that made Puerto Rico’s situation a lot more complicated, and made their process potentially much more challenging than it had been for DC. For starters, not everyone on the mainland United States even knew that Puerto Rico was even part of the United States. After all, it was some Spanish speaking island in the Caribbean, and people from the island in the US were usually referred to not as Americans from Puerto Rico, but as Puerto Ricans. To some in the United States, saying that Puerto Rico should become the 51st state made just as much sense as saying that Haiti, or Jamaica should become the 51st state, or hell, why not Australia? After all, we speak the same language, unlike Puerto Rico. Without the instant name recognition that goes along with being the nation’s capital, many conversations between mainland Americans on the status of Puerto Rico would have to prefaced with an explanation of the island’s situation, and that, yes, it was part of the US already. The language barrier, along with the nearly entirely Latino population of the island, put up more mental roadblock. Though English was more common in Puerto Rico than other Spanish speaking places, only around 20% of the inhabitants spoke it fluently. To those that had disliked granting additional rights to majority Black DC, the idea of adding a star to the flag, and two more seats in the Senate, for an island full of “foreigners”, speaking another language was downright terrifying. Xenophobia would serve as a major barrier to the conversation among a certain subset of the American electorate. Also, similar fears about the political leanings of the island scared away both potential allies Republican and Democrat. In the US, Latinos generally voted for Democrats, mainly due to their higher level of poverty on average, and the tough, occasionally racist stances that Republicans took on immigration. However, Puerto Rico was very heavily Catholic, and since the Republican party was usually the American party that most appealed to heavily religious voters, especially with its stances on school prayer, abortion, gay rights, contraception, pornography, teaching of intelligent design, and so on. Puerto Rico had elected both right and left wing politicians in its history, and did not have an obvious political leaning in the same way that DC did. In some ways this was a benefit, as neither side could claim that they were only supporting Puerto Rican statehood to gain a reliable vote for their side. On the other hand, neither party wanted to be the one that died on the cross of Puerto Rico, only to have the state flip to the other party every election. Something similar had happened with Alaska, which had been predicted to be solidly Democratic, but had actually swung to more reliably vote for Republicans, many of whom had originally opposed admitting it into the Union. To make matters even more complicated, not everyone on the island was in favor of statehood. Unlike in DC, where opinion polling had put public support for voting rights and/or statehood at over 85%, opinions in Puerto Rico were more divided, with support for statehood ranging from 45-55% depending on who you asked. In 1967, a referendum had been held on the status of Puerto Rico, and 60% of voters had selected to preserve the status quo and remain a US associated commonwealth. However, the vote had been boycotted by several pro-statehood groups, so it was not considered to be a reliable measure of public opinion. Even the best numbers only put the percentage in favor of statehood at a simple majority, not the overwhelming consensus of DC. The division was such that the two primary political parties of the island being differentiated in part, by whether they supported the status quo, or statehood. The Partido Popular Democrático (Popular Democratic Party, PND), a center left party that had been in power more often than it hadn’t throughout the history of the island, was in favor of maintaining the status quo. Meanwhile, the Partido Nuevo Progresista (New Progressive Party, PNP), a center right party, was in favor of statehood. The fringe Partido Independentista Puertorriqueño (Puerto Rican Independence Party, PIP) advocated for the total independence of Puerto Rico from the US, but they never managed to capture more than 2.5% of the vote. The division over statehood existed because there was a legitimate debate to be had. In the same way that many Americans felt separate from an island in the Caribbean that spoke Spanish, many inhabitants of Puerto Rico felt alienated by the US, as a place that was linguistically and culturally different, feeling more kindred to their neighbours in the Dominican Republic, or even Mexico. In addition, unlike in DC, which had simply been part of the US that, if you happen to live in it, you didn’t representation in Congress, Puerto Rico’s status as an unincorporated territory of the United States conferred upon it some benefits and some disadvantages. The first and most obvious disadvantage was the disenfranchisement. Puerto Ricans, despite being American citizens, living on American soil, were not allowed to vote in US elections, had no senators, no representatives, nothing. Unlike DC however, they were allowed a level of self governance similar to a US state, with Governor, Senate, House, and Supreme Court. Still, to be subject to most of the laws of nation across the water from you, laws you couldn’t vote on, felt a little too much like colonialism to many Puerto Ricans. On the benefits side, Puerto Ricans were exempt from federal income tax, and some US law did not apply on the island. In addition, the aforementioned cultural and linguistic differences made some Puerto Ricans uncomfortable with becoming part of the US, the same as Connecticut, or Iowa. In response, some pro statehood advocates would point to Hawaii, which had a unique history, culture, was in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and even had a non-White majority, or Utah, which, though it was very White, had its own unique cultural identity stemming from the Mormon church. These points were shot down by pro status quo activists, who argued Puerto Rico was different, and the debate continued.
However, when news of what had happened in DC got to the island, how people campaigned in every state, how there had been a groundswell of popular support, and how the campaign was ultimately successful, it struck a nerve in Puerto Rico. A rising number of pro statehood, and anti-colonialist protestors, activists, and political candidates began appearing, and Governor Rafael Hernández Colón, of the PND party began to grow nervous. In the 1988 elections in Puerto Rico, the pro-statehood PNP party swept to an absolute majority in the Senate and the House of Representatives. Colón managed to hold on to the governor’s office, likely due to his high approval ratings, and long political career, which made many Puerto Ricans see him as experienced and trustworthy, his reelection in 1988 making him the first governor to win three terms in office. However, Colón found himself basically stuck, since his party had lost control of the other two houses of government. Under the leadership of Congressman Pedro Roselló, the PNP began organising, planning to hold a referendum on the status of Puerto Rico. While statehood had always been a talking point and a plank in the platform of PNP, under the leadership of Roselló, it became the central issue of the party. When Colón made it clear he would not support such a plan, the PNP began conducting local plebiscites, to try and gauge what the public’s opinion really was on the matter. When PNP began publishing results that showed independence holding a strong lead, Colón relented, and agreed to allow a general referendum on the future status of Puerto Rico. He believed that the pro-statehood movement was just a noisy minority, who had managed to get their members out to the poles for the previous elections. He hoped that the referendum would proved that the majority of Puerto Ricans were not ready for statehood. Hopefully, by 1992, the invigorating motivator that had been the DC amendment would be out of people’s minds, and the PND would be able to hold onto the Governor’s mansion, and take back congress. And so the referendum went ahead. There was some minor disagreement between the two sides over the phrasing of the question. Colón had wanted a simple “Are you happy with the Current Status of Puerto Rico?”, Sí o No question, while the PNP pushed for the referendum to specifically list the options of “Commonwealth” and “Statehood”. In the end, Colón agreed, but on the condition that “Free Association/Independence” also be an option. In this way he hoped to to split the vote. In the lead up to the vote, both sides ran aggressive ad campaigns, with the PND emphasising the good economy and how a move towards statehood would lead the island down and uncertain path, tying them up for years, for potentially nothing. The PNP however, ran ads showing the people of Washington DC celebrating in the streets, with text that read: “They fought for their rights, will you do the same?”. The also made liberal use of the main slogan of the ad campaign, No más colonialismo, no more colonialism. The referendum occurred on March 13, 1990. Because the referendum was agreed to by both parties, neither side boycotted the referendum, and turnout was fairly high, at 68.5%. When the votes were tallied on the morning after, the results were a surprise to pretty much everyone, but especially Colón. 59% of voters had selected Statehood, and, surprisingly, 9% had selected Free Association/Independence, leaving only 32% in favor of continuing the status quo. It was an overwhelming victory for the PNP, who saw the results as a mandate for them to stop talking about independence, and start working towards it. The PNP would retain control of both houses in the 1992 elections, and Pedro Roselló was elected Governor. He immediately began working towards his goal, making diplomatic channels with the mainland. As another, symbolic but powerful measure, Roselló decided to appoint Puerto Rican “Shadow Congresspeople”. He would appoint, and the people would later vote for, two Senators, and two Representatives that would travel to DC. Though these Congresspeople would not be allowed to vote, they would spend their time in DC advocating for the island, and getting people used to the idea of Puerto Rican Representatives. It was hoped that this high profile decision would help shine a spotlight on Puerto Rico’s situation, and hopefully bring about a level of public support like that DC had gotten. Congress, after some debate, decided to allow the shadow members to attend sessions of Congress, but would not allow them to vote, would not allow them in meetings relating to national security, and would not even give them desks within the chambers of Congress. Nevertheless, by the early 1990s, in the aftermath of what had happened to the District of Columbia, a renewed debate on the status of Puerto Rico had begun within the United States. Only time would tell if the movement made any progress.
Unlike with the DC issue, while President Hart made a few comments that threw some light support towards Puerto Rico, he did not take a firm stand. Perhaps he did not want to anger people who otherwise supported him, but disagreed on Puerto Rico, or perhaps he was actually unsure on the issue. Whatever the case, many Puerto Rico advocates found themselves very disappointed by his weak stance on the issue. After all, Hart was a very respected, well liked President, who might have been able to lend real credibility to the movement. Hart’s approval ratings were some of the highest since the early days of Robert Kennedy. In 1988, he soundly defeated the Republican ticket of Bob Dole and former California Senator Pete Wilson. In fact, except for Lyndon Johnson’s drop in the polls due to his handling of Vietnam, the past three US presidents, despite being from across the political spectrum, were pretty popular with the public as a whole. Despite many conservatives disliking Hart, with some calling him a “Socialist”, the public seemed to hold a favorable view of his administration, and his policies were generally popular. Hart earned much respect for his accomplishments in foreign relations. He sought peace and cooperation wherever possible, as opposed to the combative, aggressive foreign policy of his predecessor. Hart worked towards, and largely succeed at improving relations with the Soviet Union, with things particularly picking up once Gorbachev took office. Hart took many steps towards nuclear non proliferation, leading the talks to revive the Strategic Arms Limitations Treaty, which Reagan had let expire after the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan soured relations between East and West. When things started to go downhill for the Soviets during Hart’s second term, Hart would earn the respect of historians for “not doing a victory lap”, and continuing to work with the changing government in Moscow. Hart would also oversee the imposition of additional sanctions of Apartheid South Africa. However, the foreign policy decision that would garner Hart the most criticism, even though he had little to do with it, would be the 1987 Cairo Accords. Ever since the establishment of Israel in 1948, there had been near constant conflict between it and the Arab world. Though initially it had been planned for the Arab population of the former British Mandatory Palestine to have their own state, this had never been achieved, and soon, the territories not occupied by Israel after the ceasefire for the first war was over, the Gaza strip, and the West Bank, fell under the control of Egypt and Jordan specifically. After Egypt closed the straits of Tiran to Israel in 1967, Israel attacked Egypt, Jordan, and Syria in what was the Six Day War. They quickly occupied all of the former Palestinian territory, as well as the Sinai peninsula, the Golan Heights in Syria, and even took control of the Suez Canal. Another war would be fought in 1973, the Yom Kippur war, in which the Egyptians seized the Suez Canal once more, but little else about the status quo would change. Through the Camp David Accords, in 1976**, and other negotiations, Israel would eventually retreat from the Sinai Peninsula, and return it to Egypt. Also, relations between Israel, Egypt, and Jordan would be slightly normalised, if not made friendly. Israel did not relinquish the Golan Heights or the occupied Palestinian territories however. Also, when Israel offered to Egypt to hand over the Gaza strip, Egypt would refuse, not wanting the territory. However, after years of stalled negotiations, in 1985, under the mediation of Egypt, and the United States, Jordan and Israel sat down in Alexandria to discuss the matter of the West Bank. The West Bank comprised the majority of Palestinian claimed territory, and had been controlled by Jordan prior to 1967. The Israelis had been having serious issues with the territory, and were inclined to give the responsibility over to someone else. Jordan too, was interested, because in addition to the national prestige, and the desire to see the Palestinians free from Israel, control of the territory would give the Jordanians considerable rights over the Dead Sea, as they would now control the majority of the coastline. Thus, discussions began on the handover of the West Bank to Jordan. The Arab League, though they did not participate, did not issue any statement against the negotiations, as they recognised Jordan as the nation with the strongest claim to the territory***. Noticeably absent at the talks was any kind of representation for the Palestinian people. Israel was willing to give the territory to Jordan, but only if it's control of other territories was not affected or discussed, and only if it's annexation of East Jerusalem was accepted. Jordan wished to annex the West Bank, and would accept Israeli control over Jerusalem, but only if free passage to the holy city was permitted for Muslims, particularly those from Palestine and Jordan. After weeks of negotiations, a formal agreement was reached. The West Bank, except for East Jerusalem would become a semi-autonomous region of Jordan, with all Palestinians becoming Jordanian citizens, free travel for Pilgrims was allowed to the holy city, the rights of Arab citizens within Israel would not be affected, and citizens of East Jerusalem would be allowed to choose whether to become Israeli citizens, or Jordanian ones. On November 13, 1985, the Alexandria Accords were signed, to the celebration of many. The West and the East generally celebrated the move, citing it as a step towards peace in the Middle East. However, the reaction within the Middle East was mixed. Many hardliners saw Jordan and Egypt as traitors. Others who had argued for a two state solutions still believed that the sovereign rights of Palestinians were being violated. The issue of the Gaza strip or the Golan Heights had not been addressed. In addition, a step towards peace was actually a bad thing for several authoritarian leaders, who were used to using the plight of the poor Palestinians, and the evil Israelis as issues to unite the people around. In addition, within the West Bank itself, there was controversy. While some were happy that they were now part of an Arab state, some felt that they had simply exchanged one overlord for another. The Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine would continue to fight a campaign for the freedom of Palestine, but against the Kingdom of Jordan. There was even some pushback within the US from right wing pro-Israeli elements, and there was resistance in Israel from hardliners who believed that a massive swathe of Israeli territory was being given up. Nevertheless, especially for the Democratic base, the Alexandria Accords generally worked in President Hart’s favor, as someone who would work towards peace across the world. On June 10, 1986, the 70th anniversary of the Arab Revolt, the Jordanian flag was hoisted over the West Bank, and it officially became part of Jordan. Though this was only the beginning of a long process, and peace would not descend over the Middle East all at once, a step had been taken towards peace.
By the end of his term, Gary Hart was already regarded by many as a successful president. Nevertheless, the right, who had never really liked Hart, was ready to take back the White House. By 1991, they had taken control of both houses of Congress, and the Presidential Primaries were already underway. Vice President Glenn had surprised many people by not deciding to run, and so on both sides of the aisle, there was a rush of candidates, all competing for the top job. The Republicans were still dealing with the same internal struggle that they had faced in 1984, that between the Reaganite conservatives, and the more moderate establishment. However, the strength of the conservatives had swelled in recent years, and the Republican base had grown somewhat tired of the status quo. This quickly became clear in the primaries, as establishment candidates like Utah Senator Orrin Hatch, California Senator and former VP nominee Pete Wilson, and former Governor of Tennessee Lamar Alexander, fell behind in the primaries. Eventually, three unorthodox front runners emerged, each unique in their own way. Conservative commentator and author Pat Buchanan, who represented the far social right pulled a strong third place, after winning second in Iowa. Businessman Steve Forbes emerged as the second place candidate, running on a flat income tax, and other right wing, Reaganesque economic issues. However, the front runner was freshman Senator from Arizona, and Vietnam war hero, John McCain. Though initially dismissed by many as a long shot, due to his relatively brief political career, and a scandal in 1988, that though he had been mostly exonerated in, still was seen as a blemish on his career, McCain was very popular, for his Maverick reputation and brash speaking manner. He argued for a stronger position on Communism and was generally more hawkish, but was also known for a degree of bipartisanship and broke with the Republicans occasionally on issues he believed in. He argued for campaign finance reform, making it a central issue of his campaign. McCain was difficult to categorize politically, but he was anti-establishment and was definitely seen as a man of principles. By March of 1992, McCain had gone from being the frontrunner, to the presumptive Republican nominee. The Democrats similarly found themselves in an open field after vice president Glenn announced that he would not run. A large field of candidates was eventually whittled down to a contest between Massachusetts governor Michael Dukakis and Arkansas governor Bill Clinton. Clinton was the initial frontrunner, portraying himself as the young, charismatic moderate, very similar to Gary Hart’s campaign. Dukakis, meanwhile was seen as the more liberal candidate, which was either a plus or a minus, depending on who you asked. Eventually, Clinton would emerge victorious, due to his appeal to both Southern and Black voters. Clinton was charming, and it was hoped that his southern charm would help him carry some Southern states in the general, which were typically seen as the realm of the GOP ever since 1964. At their respective conventions, the nominees would officially select their running mates, going in opposite directions with their choices. To further shore up his southern advantage, Clinton would select Tennessee Senator Al Gore. McCain however, decided to instead address his weaknesses, and selected Texas Senator Phil Gramm, to counter those who attacked him on his “lack of political experience”. In the general election, polls were very close. The candidates both had record approval ratings, and both received support from across the aisle, both being relatively young, and unorthodox presidential candidates. The election would come down to the wire. In the end, the results were very unusual looking. True to expectations, Clinton carried some southern states, Arkansas, Tennessee, Louisiana, and Kentucky. However, McCain would carry some more typically Democratic states, like Pennsylvania, Colorado, and Ohio. In the end, after a razor thin margin, John McCain was elected the next president of the United States.
*IOTL, this was not possible, due to the deadline being written into the text of the bill, but here, due to butterflies, the amendment was worded differently, which allowed it to be extended once public support was high enough to warrant doing so.
**Talks begin earlier under RFK, because I figured once Reagan took over in 1977, there would be less of a cordial atmosphere.
***IOTL, they recognised the PLO as controlling the territory in 1974, overruling the Jordanian claim. ITTL, the PLO loses a great deal of support from even the Arab world due to a series of horrific terrorist attacks, including an bombing in 1972 that inadvertently destroyed a school bus, killing 44 Israeli schoolchildren, attacks by more militant anti-Israeli members of the PLO against pro-peace protestors in 1975, and the bombing of the newly established Egyptian embassy in Tel Aviv in 1979, that leads to the death of the Egyptian ambassador. These attacks lead to the PLO being diplomatically isolated, and Jordan's claim to the West Bank being credible. Also, all this is a work of fiction and does not necessarily represent my views on the Israel-Palestine dispute, please do not get mad at me, this is purely an intellectual exercise.
That looks interesting, but I have to say those huge paragraphs are nigh unreadable on a mobile. ANy chance you can break them up?
I’ll try and say something more interesting later.
I’ll try and say something more interesting later.
I have to agree, those massive Walls of Text are, frankly, unreadable.
They need to be broken down into much smaller chunks.
They need to be broken down into much smaller chunks.