Ice Station - Matthew Reilly [16]
The occasion, the reaffirmation of an alliance.
International alliances are not exactly the friendly affairs the TV news makes them out to be. When Presidents and Prime Ministers emerge from the White House and shake hands for the cameras in front of their interlocking flags, they belie the deal-making, the promise-breaking, the nit-picking and the catfighting that goes on in rooms not unlike the one in which George Holmes now stood. The smiles and the handshakes are merely the icing on very complex, negotiated cakes that are made by professional diplomats like Holmes.
International alliances are not about friendship. They are about advantage. If friendship brings advantage, then friendship is desirable. If friendship does not bring advantage, then perhaps merely civil relations may be all that is necessary. International friendship – in terms of foreign aid, military allegiance and trade alignment – can be a very expensive business. It is not entered into lightly.
Which was the reason why George Holmes was in Washington on this bright summer’s day. He was a negotiator. More than that, he was a negotiator skilled in the niceties and subtleties of diplomatic exchange.
And he would need all his skills in this diplomatic exchange, for this was no ordinary reaffirmation of an alliance.
This was a reaffirmation of what was arguably the most important alliance of the twentieth century.
The North Atlantic Treaty Organisation.
NATO.
‘Phil, did you know that for the last forty years, the one and only goal of French foreign policy has been to destroy the United States’ hegemony over the western world?’ Holmes mused as he waited for the French delegation to return to the meeting room.
His aide, a twenty-five-year-old Harvard Law grad named Phillip Munro, hesitated before he answered. He wasn’t sure if it was a rhetorical question. Holmes swivelled on his chair and stared at Munro through his thick glasses.
‘Ah, no, sir, I didn’t,’ Munro said.
Holmes nodded thoughtfully. ‘They think of us as brutes, unsophisticated fools. Beer-swilling rednecks who through some accident of history somehow got our hands on the most powerful weapons in the world and, from that, became its leader. The French resent that. Hell, they’re not even a full NATO member any-more, because they think it perpetuates US influence over Europe.’
Holmes snuffed a laugh. He remembered when, in 1966, France withdrew from NATO’s integrated military command because it did not want French nuclear weapons to be placed under NATO – and therefore, US – control. At the time the French President, Charles de Gaulle, had said point blank that NATO was ‘an American organisation’. Now, France simply maintained a seat on NATO’s North Atlantic Council to keep an eye on things.
Munro said, ‘I know a few people who would agree with them. Academics, economists. People who would say that that’s exactly what NATO is designed to do. Perpetuate our influence over Europe.’
Holmes smiled. Munro was good value. College-educated and an ardent liberal, he was one of those let’s-have-a-philosophical-debate-over-coffee types. The kind who argue for a better world when they have absolutely no experience in it. Holmes didn’t mind that. In fact, he found Munro refreshing. ‘But what do you say, Phil?’ he asked.
Munro was silent for a few seconds. Then he said, ‘NATO makes European countries economically and technologically dependent upon the United States for defence. Even highly developed countries like France and England know that if they want the best weapons systems, they have to come to us. And that leaves them with two options – come knocking on our door with their hats in their hands, or join NATO. And so far as I know, the United States hasn’t sold any Patriot missile systems to non-NATO countries. So, yes, I think that NATO does perpetuate our influence over Europe.’
‘Not a bad analysis, Phil.