#6
View attachment 414294
Early 1981
As the president-elect, John B. Anderson had received top level updates from many government agencies, as well as intelligence briefings on all the global hot spots since November. But it’s only now that he’s found the time to drill down into some of the seedier aspects of semi-secret American foreign policy. He’s asked his chief of staff to join him. He's not in a good mood.
“I feel like such a fool.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Have you read this? I mean beyond the cover memo? Have you really dug into it?”
“It’s bad.”
“It’s bad? It’s...disgusting! We’re supporting this! What a damn fool I am…”
“Come on, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“We all knew it was happening. I mean I wasn’t on the Foreign Affairs Committee, but we all knew we were in bed with some nasty creatures down there. But this? It...exceeds everything. We’re behaving like fascists.”
“Mr. President, you can’t-”
“Look at this! Women. Children. Priests! The drug trade. Murder squads. Assassination. Torture. And it goes on for page after page, country after country.”
“Mr. President, I’m sensing a bout of morality on the horizon.”
“Ohoho! Wrong, Bill. Look up. You’re in the eye of the storm. Set a meeting.”
----
A Few Weeks Later
Felix is a noted foreign policy analyst and current professor at the School of Advanced International Studies, specializing in Latin America. Though he was born in Mexico, his father was American, and he opted for service in Washington rather than Mexico City. He still sometimes consults with the State Department on a casual basis through his friend, Frank. He’s in Frank’s office now, looking over a policy memo from the White House.
“This new
Jefe acts fast.”
“He’s a doer.”
“Has he even been sworn in yet?”
“He wrote this up before that.”
“He needs to relax.”
“I’ll pass that along.”
“Take some time to enjoy the victory. He’s gonna burn out. He’s got a rose garden now. Stop and smell them!”
“Do you moonlight as Hints from Heloise when you’re not serving as an analyst?”
“Ah, I quite like her! See these pants? Ruined last week. Salt and lemon juice. I’m wearing them today!”
“So anytime you want to steer the conversation back to peace in Central America would be just aces with me.”
He reads over the memo again.
“This is very basic.”
“It’s early days.”
“Well, no one could object to anything on here. You know they’re willing. México, Venezuela, Colombia, Panamá. They’ve been anxious to get started for a year now, but Carter was…how to put it…”
“...Wishy-washy?”
“Wishy-washy? This is a real phrase?”
“Noncommittal, like?”
“English is a terrible language.”
“Fine.”
“No poetry.”
“We’re getting off topic again.”
“So ugly coming off the tongue.
Wishy-washy!”
“I swear to god if you don’t finish this brief I’ll ruin those pants but for good this time.”
He puts up his hands in surrender and returns to the document.
“It’s sound. It does what you want it to do. Probably.”
“And what do we want it to do in your analysis?”
“Well that’s pretty clear! Don’t play coy. You want to pivot away from this mess you created in Central America. My guess, though I can’t prove it, is that Anderson was briefed on what’s been going on with Argentina and that boy scout said
No Mas.”
“The president’s motivations are not at qu-”
“So you need to pivot. You need to get out of bed with Argentina. You need to get your hand out of the beehive in Latin America. And you need to do it without ceding the region to Cuba. So your solution? You finally remember there are other countries in the world and you ask for help.”
“And they’ll play ball?”
“If you give them a chance for real power, absolutely. Latinos securing peace for Latinos? Every church bell in the old Spanish Empire will ring for a year.”
“And you don’t think Cuba or Nicaragua will sabotage it?”
“If you give the group real independence they won’t be able to. They’ll make this hurt you as much as Cuba, but Cuba is always willing to take the hit as long as you come out looking bad. Don’t fool yourself: there’s probably going to be a sting at the end of this for you. And who's to say? Maybe Cuba goes left when we expect them to go right, wouldn't be the first time. There's only one thing that would guarantee them, in my opinion."
"And that would be?"
"Well...why don't you go have a talk with Cuba?”
“The United States doesn’t talk to Cuba.”
“Oh really? So much for the brand new day. Remember when the United States didn’t talk to China? I remember that. You remember that?”
Frank stares at his friend, assessing his current level of seriousness. It’s not always easy to tell with Felix.
“...Hypothetically-”
“Oh but of course.”
“Hypothetically, where does this begin?”
“Ha! The same place every negotiation begins, whether it’s with a dictator or your seven year old daughter:
leverage."
Felix makes "leverage" an approximately seven-syllable word.
"Leverage."
"You find the thing they want that you have, you dangle it within their grasp, you hold tight to the other side, and when they take the bait you pull with all your god-damned might. You’ve tried it before with Fidel. You’ve always failed. The question is, can Anderson handle it, or does he piss himself like the others?”
“Thankfully, I’m not the one who has to answer those questions. So as far as the others- Mexico, Colombia et al- we go to next steps with this?”
“Absolutely. Best of luck.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem. Oh, and Frank?”
“Yeah?”
“If he does piss himself?”
“Yeah?”
“Salt and lemon juice.”
----
A plaque adorns the ballroom wall in the Grand Hotel on Contadora Island:
In this room on September 7, 1982 was signed the Treaty of Contadora, setting up the framework for a lasting peace in Central America.
“A new and sweeping utopia of life, where no one will be able to decide for others how they die, where love will prove true and happiness be possible, and where the races condemned to one hundred years of solitude will have, at last and forever, a second opportunity on earth.”
- Gabriel Garcia Marquez