The Art of Leadership
"The Art of Leadership is saying no, not saying yes."
Do we have a date for withdrawal? War too expensive.
- G. Brown
Tony crumpled up the note from his Chancellor and tossed it into a nearby rubbish bin. Of course he didn't know when the war would be over - and Brown knew that - but he had another agenda to asking. He always had an agenda, he had wanted to be party leader since that fateful election... when electability had trumped the left at last. He couldn't be leader - Tony was leader, and he was going to be for at least another six years. Twelve would be enough, I'd have got the job done at any rate. Brown would have to wait it out.
That wasn't to say he wasn't anxious to find out more about the war, he'd said as much to President Bush over the phone only an hour ago, but Brown didn't have to know that. Didn't deserve to know that. It was all seeming rather a mess now, of course, but Britain could hardly drop out of the coalition and withdraw after everything that they'd been through. There was too much at stake to drop out, both in terms of the country's prestige and in terms of the great work that they were doing to save a country from dictatorship.
Bush had said he would call back later on if news came from the front, but it didn't look like it was going to. Bush was a tricky man though and, for all that he played the fool in public, he was damn smart and certainly not an ideological ally. Sometimes Tony wished that Bush's predecessor was still in office, unfelled by that sexual scandal and the constraints of American term limits. The last President had been a good chap, he'd driven the Democrats to the right in the same way that Tony had for Labour, he'd certainly modernised the party in a lot of ways. Yes, it was safe to say that he was a damn sight better than Bush could ever be.
Thankfully the right in Britain wouldn't be seizing power in the same way any time soon - that "quiet" fool was dragging the Tories further and further to the right with every turn, his mumbling breaking only briefly to roar out something vitriolic and insane. At least he supported the war, which was a damn sight better than a lot of the left of Tony's own party. The nerve of them to campaign actively against the Prime Minister! The Foreign Secretary had had to go for it, which was a dreadful shame... Tony had always rather liked Jim. The intimacy they had once shared was gone now though.
Another new Foreign Secretary might be needed at some point, come to think of it, and David certainly wouldn't be a bad chap. He was certainly to the right of the party, not one of the batty left-wingers opposing Tony at every turn, but he was a little too young still - maybe better saved for when - if - Brown became PM. There'd be a nice, moderate, cabinet of all these younger chaps lined up by then. Maybe he could hold out more than six years if he tried hard enough...
He'd called his close advisors half an hour ago, and been assured that they would be arriving at Downing Street by each of them soon enough. The war had become a worry, and his "Kitchen Cabinet's" advice was needed before he could make any decision either way. A lot of people criticised him for his increased reliance on Special Advisors outside the cabinet, but he honestly didn't give a damn, these were the best people that he could find and they would be the ones advising him. Besides, when the other option was an increasingly hostile Brown then he didn't really have any choice did he? Pragmatism was the core of his government, it would have been hypocritical to ignore it...
Eventually he heard a knock on the door, and he called for whoever it was to be let in.
"Good evening." He called softly to the entrant, still studying a report in front of him.
"Good evening." The man returned, before settling down in an armchair quietly and taking a document of his own from his briefcase. For a man dubbed "The Dark Lord" in the press he didn't look the slightest bit sinister.
After a moment more the Prime Minister looked up at the Home Secretary and smiled slightly. It was hard not to smile at one of his oldest friends and most dedicated followers... one of the men who had helped propel him to the leadership after his predecessor’s ill-fated death. It ought to ought to have been him, Tony thought, He laid so much of the groundwork for this, for their ascendancy. The consequences of a Heart Attack on the party... too massive to consider at sometimes. The fact that his entire career had been a success off the back of another man's death was an especially troubling notion for Tony to consider.
"Are we going to begin?" His colleague asked at last, looking up.
"Yes, we ought to." Tony replied.
"What am I here for then?" His friend asked, cultured tones making him sound more fit to be PM than Tony... That was what was holding him back though - the faux aristocratic mannerisms that he adopted... that was where the "lord" in "The Dark Lord" had come from after his clashes with the church over legalising Homosexuality.
"President Bush called earlier." Tony said.
"Oh?"
"Yes, the Americans want to occupy the whole country after the next offensive, that's what they're saying at least." Tony explained, "I don't know how that'll play here..."
"Not well I should imagine. Maybe we should conside..." He was cut off as the door slammed open.
"What the hell is going though Bush's mind?" Said the livid, red-faced Chancellor as he barged into the room. He stank of alcohol already.
"Now see here, Brown, who let you in?" Tony demanded.
"Never mind that, why the hell has Prescott Bush just declared his intention to occupy the whole of Vietnam at the end of the war?"
"Pwescott Bush Junior." The Home Secretary chipped in pedantically.
"Shut up Roy." Brown spat. The Home Secretary stood up, his own face flushing red.
The Prime Minister sat and watched as Roy Jenkins and George Brown tore into each other in front of him, screaming about nothing and everything all at once. What a dysfunctional little family we are, the Prime Minister thought. Brother fighting brother, a voice in his head commented, I wonder if this is what the Vietnamese feel with that Civil War of theirs. He doubted President Bush had though of it that way, his relationship with little George always seemed so harmonious...
As his Home Secretary and the drunken Chancellor screamed at each other the PM idly wondered whether the Foreign Secretary would burst in at any moment to form a complete tableau of his cabinet. Wilson's probably too busy brooding over the failure of his silly little DEA or ranting at that young Miss Williams like he does every night, Tony thought. His thoughts briefly turned to Powell, and wondered if his opponent across the aisle had any similar problems with his cabinet - no, as unelectable as he was Powell seemed to be a party darling. Quiet and clever even after "Turning up the volume" with that tasteless little Virgil speech.
Whilst the two men in front of him continued to argue about Britain's policy in Vietnam the PM murmured "So this is the future of socialism". Neither of them heard him, of course, but as he referenced his own book Tony Crosland couldn't help but chuckling.
- G. Brown
Tony crumpled up the note from his Chancellor and tossed it into a nearby rubbish bin. Of course he didn't know when the war would be over - and Brown knew that - but he had another agenda to asking. He always had an agenda, he had wanted to be party leader since that fateful election... when electability had trumped the left at last. He couldn't be leader - Tony was leader, and he was going to be for at least another six years. Twelve would be enough, I'd have got the job done at any rate. Brown would have to wait it out.
That wasn't to say he wasn't anxious to find out more about the war, he'd said as much to President Bush over the phone only an hour ago, but Brown didn't have to know that. Didn't deserve to know that. It was all seeming rather a mess now, of course, but Britain could hardly drop out of the coalition and withdraw after everything that they'd been through. There was too much at stake to drop out, both in terms of the country's prestige and in terms of the great work that they were doing to save a country from dictatorship.
Bush had said he would call back later on if news came from the front, but it didn't look like it was going to. Bush was a tricky man though and, for all that he played the fool in public, he was damn smart and certainly not an ideological ally. Sometimes Tony wished that Bush's predecessor was still in office, unfelled by that sexual scandal and the constraints of American term limits. The last President had been a good chap, he'd driven the Democrats to the right in the same way that Tony had for Labour, he'd certainly modernised the party in a lot of ways. Yes, it was safe to say that he was a damn sight better than Bush could ever be.
Thankfully the right in Britain wouldn't be seizing power in the same way any time soon - that "quiet" fool was dragging the Tories further and further to the right with every turn, his mumbling breaking only briefly to roar out something vitriolic and insane. At least he supported the war, which was a damn sight better than a lot of the left of Tony's own party. The nerve of them to campaign actively against the Prime Minister! The Foreign Secretary had had to go for it, which was a dreadful shame... Tony had always rather liked Jim. The intimacy they had once shared was gone now though.
Another new Foreign Secretary might be needed at some point, come to think of it, and David certainly wouldn't be a bad chap. He was certainly to the right of the party, not one of the batty left-wingers opposing Tony at every turn, but he was a little too young still - maybe better saved for when - if - Brown became PM. There'd be a nice, moderate, cabinet of all these younger chaps lined up by then. Maybe he could hold out more than six years if he tried hard enough...
He'd called his close advisors half an hour ago, and been assured that they would be arriving at Downing Street by each of them soon enough. The war had become a worry, and his "Kitchen Cabinet's" advice was needed before he could make any decision either way. A lot of people criticised him for his increased reliance on Special Advisors outside the cabinet, but he honestly didn't give a damn, these were the best people that he could find and they would be the ones advising him. Besides, when the other option was an increasingly hostile Brown then he didn't really have any choice did he? Pragmatism was the core of his government, it would have been hypocritical to ignore it...
Eventually he heard a knock on the door, and he called for whoever it was to be let in.
"Good evening." He called softly to the entrant, still studying a report in front of him.
"Good evening." The man returned, before settling down in an armchair quietly and taking a document of his own from his briefcase. For a man dubbed "The Dark Lord" in the press he didn't look the slightest bit sinister.
After a moment more the Prime Minister looked up at the Home Secretary and smiled slightly. It was hard not to smile at one of his oldest friends and most dedicated followers... one of the men who had helped propel him to the leadership after his predecessor’s ill-fated death. It ought to ought to have been him, Tony thought, He laid so much of the groundwork for this, for their ascendancy. The consequences of a Heart Attack on the party... too massive to consider at sometimes. The fact that his entire career had been a success off the back of another man's death was an especially troubling notion for Tony to consider.
"Are we going to begin?" His colleague asked at last, looking up.
"Yes, we ought to." Tony replied.
"What am I here for then?" His friend asked, cultured tones making him sound more fit to be PM than Tony... That was what was holding him back though - the faux aristocratic mannerisms that he adopted... that was where the "lord" in "The Dark Lord" had come from after his clashes with the church over legalising Homosexuality.
"President Bush called earlier." Tony said.
"Oh?"
"Yes, the Americans want to occupy the whole country after the next offensive, that's what they're saying at least." Tony explained, "I don't know how that'll play here..."
"Not well I should imagine. Maybe we should conside..." He was cut off as the door slammed open.
"What the hell is going though Bush's mind?" Said the livid, red-faced Chancellor as he barged into the room. He stank of alcohol already.
"Now see here, Brown, who let you in?" Tony demanded.
"Never mind that, why the hell has Prescott Bush just declared his intention to occupy the whole of Vietnam at the end of the war?"
"Pwescott Bush Junior." The Home Secretary chipped in pedantically.
"Shut up Roy." Brown spat. The Home Secretary stood up, his own face flushing red.
The Prime Minister sat and watched as Roy Jenkins and George Brown tore into each other in front of him, screaming about nothing and everything all at once. What a dysfunctional little family we are, the Prime Minister thought. Brother fighting brother, a voice in his head commented, I wonder if this is what the Vietnamese feel with that Civil War of theirs. He doubted President Bush had though of it that way, his relationship with little George always seemed so harmonious...
As his Home Secretary and the drunken Chancellor screamed at each other the PM idly wondered whether the Foreign Secretary would burst in at any moment to form a complete tableau of his cabinet. Wilson's probably too busy brooding over the failure of his silly little DEA or ranting at that young Miss Williams like he does every night, Tony thought. His thoughts briefly turned to Powell, and wondered if his opponent across the aisle had any similar problems with his cabinet - no, as unelectable as he was Powell seemed to be a party darling. Quiet and clever even after "Turning up the volume" with that tasteless little Virgil speech.
Whilst the two men in front of him continued to argue about Britain's policy in Vietnam the PM murmured "So this is the future of socialism". Neither of them heard him, of course, but as he referenced his own book Tony Crosland couldn't help but chuckling.