“I tell you this for your own good, and for the good of the Democratic Party. This issue has disaster written all over it. There won’t be much of a national Democratic party without Jewish support. I know that, even if I don’t especially like it. But if it looks like we’re knuckling in to Jewish pressure, then this party will only have Jewish support and nothing else.”
Sen. Farrell looked back and forth between the president and his chief of staff. Farrell knew he didn’t have the same history with Lawrence Quaid that Brown had, but it was Farrell’s job to look out for the party. Brown’s job was to look out for Quaid.
“We have to watch ourselves on this one, Mr. President,” Farrell continued. “Make the right decision, sir, whatever that is, but be sure to make it in the right way, in a way the rest of the party won’t have to explain in Congressional hearings someday. I don’t want to be placed under oath and asked what role Mr. Brown played in this decision. For the good of the country, for the good of the Democratic Party, I suggest that Mr. Brown voluntarily absent himself from this discussion.”
President Quaid continued staring out the windows. Before he could say anything, his wife spoke up.
“Larry, you tell Bobbie to leave and I’m walking out with him. He’s your best friend and most trusted advisor. He won’t do anything to hurt you. The three of us are the home team, remember, the three of us. We’re the good guys. Lose one member of this team and I swear you’ll lose the other one, too, at least on this issue.”
President Quaid spun around.
She stared him directly in the eyes until he looked away. The president walked to his wife and took both her hands in his.
“Catherine, the last time I disagreed with you was when I wanted to buy a bass guitar and you said it had four strings and I only knew one note. I bought it anyway and never got past the first string.”
Quaid stared silently at the ceiling, paused, then turned back to his wife.
“What Grant says is right. We both know it is. This is the toughest issue of my presidency. How I handle this will define me. This is my moment in history. The way I handle it is as important as the result I achieve, or don’t achieve. It can’t appear that any decision I make is a payback for Jewish support, especially for Jewish financial support.”
Quaid turned to his chief of staff. “Bob, I think it would be best for all of us if you would decide that your presence is needed elsewhere. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be.”
Brown stood, looked at Quaid, shook his head in disbelief and walked from the room. The door swung shut.
Catherine walked to the door without looking at Quaid. It slammed behind her, loud enough to startle the Marine guard.
“Now let’s do what has to be done, Mr. President,” Farrell slowly said.
“Okay,” Quaid replied. “But this better be worth it. I’m paying an awfully heavy price for following your advice.”
The five men met in the family quarter of the White House: the majority and minority leaders of the House and Senate, and President Quaid. No staff. No record was kept of meetings in the family quarters, unlike in the Oval Office, where every visit was tape-recorded for history. Their conversation was unofficial, off the record, not for repetition outside the room.
“The problem,” Sen. Farrell began, “as we well know, is that the real minority in this country is those of us not identified with any minority. Add up all the blacks, Latinos, and Asians and collectively they outnumber ordinary white folks in this country. Throw in the whites who identify with some ethnic or religious minority and you’ve got a small group of what would be called traditional Americans. Now, Mr. President, I’m not saying there’s anything particularly wrong about this, but, well, it sure is an eye-opener when you think about it.”
“And it has potentially unpleasant implications for the current situation,” House Majority Leader Frent Gastly added. “I don’t see that we’ve got much of a choice on this Jewish refugee business. We can’t make exceptions for these Jews. We do that and every city in the country will be up in flames.”
“And don’t forget the oil problem. It could be a damn cold winter in New Hampshire,” said Senator Wayne Giddings, the conservative New Hampshire Republican majority leader. Giddings’state had shivered through a winter that saw oil prices nearly double. He wasn’t about to go through another such winter, with even higher oil prices caused by an Arab oil boycott. One more winter like the last one and his free-market preachings would ring on cold ears.
Congressman Gastly joined in.
“I’ve been speaking with some leaders of my evangelical base,” he said. “They’ve been stronger backers of Israel than even most Jews. Second Coming and all that. Every person I spoke with, half a dozen or so, made just the opposite choice our Jewish citizens seem to be making. When Israelis start killing Americans, especially American military, especially in America, well, American Christians are putting the America first, to coin a phrase. American Jews seem to put Jew first, American second. The born-againers are waving their flags and turning their backs on Israel.”
“It’s more than just these two ships, Mr. President,” Sen. Farrell said. “We let these people in and the doors are flung open. There are how many million Jews left in Israel? They damn well all need someplace to go—those that are still alive, those that are allowed to leave. We aren’t going to send in troops to get their country back—need I say that Iraq word, sir—and we just can’t take them all in here.”
“We’ve got to find every damn person who came on those ships and boot them out, turn them over to somebody, anybody but us. But that’s only half of it,” Giddings continued, locking eyes with the president. “A crime has been committed, hell, five thousand crimes. What made thousands of Americans do what they did, kill ten coastguardsmen, sink two ships, hide all those escapees? Who knows? Whatever made them do it, they’re criminals, too. Criminals who have to be arrested. Tried. Punished. There’s no getting around that, sir.”
“I hear what you are saying. I see the inevitability of what we have to do,” Quaid said. He shook his head. “Damn, but it feels wrong. Look, my wife and my oldest friend are barely speaking to me over this. They know what I’m going to decide and they don’t like it. Don’t like it is putting it mildly. I’m having some pretty chilly nights myself, gentlemen.”
They all smiled.
The First Lady had announced she was going to visit their daughter at Harvard, and while she was in Massachusetts she might attend a fundraiser for Israeli refugees.
Quaid walked to a window. The illuminated spike of the Washington Monument drew his eyes toward the sky, where the first stars were becoming visible. There’ll surely never be a Quaid Monument, he thought. I’ll be lucky to escape as a historical footnote. Damn those Jews and Arabs, all of them.
“Look,” Quaid said, turning to face the two Republican leaders. “If I do this, if I round those people up and prosecute them, I want your complete support. I’m not going to hang myself on the line for every liberal to take shots at if I’ve got to worry about being kicked in the butt by the Republicans. I’ll do this, but only if you sign on all the way. Otherwise, hell, otherwise I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’m not going to have to duck for cover from both the left and the right on this one. Do I have your words on that? No half-hearted support, either. I want you right there in front of the cameras with me when this gets announced.”
“We’ve discussed this with our folks already,” Sen. Giddings said. “You arrest those people, try them, send the illegals back where they came from and throw the book at everybody involved in killing those ten Coasties, and we’ll stand side by side with you. If ever there was an issue that actually did rise above politics—and I’ll admit I haven’t seen one yet—this could be it.”