calls, their position, and their degree of passion, which was running pretty high.
On top of that came the notices from the religious communities, virtually all of which China had managed to offend at once.
The one unexpected but shrewd development of the day didn’t involve a call or letter to anyone in the government. Chinese manufacturers located on the island of Taiwan all had lobbying and public-relations agencies in America. One of these came up with an idea that caught on as rapidly as the powder inside a rifle cartridge. By midday, three separate printers were turning out peel-off stickers with the flag of the Republic of China and the caption “We’re the good guys.” By the following morning, clerks at retail outlets all over America were affixing them to items of Taiwanese manufacture. The news media found out about it even before the process had begun, and thus aided the Republic of China industrialists by letting the public know of their “them not us” campaign even before it had properly begun.
The result was that the American public was reacquainted with the fact that there were indeed two countries called China, and that only one of them killed people of the clergy and then beat up on those who tried to say a few prayers on a public street. The other one even played Little League baseball.
It wasn’t often that union leaders and the clergy both cried out so vociferously, and together they were being heard. Polling organizations scrambled to catch up, and were soon framing their questions in such a way that the answers were defined even before they were given.
The draft note arrived in the Beijing embassy early in the morning. When decrypted by an NS employee, it was shown to the embassy’s senior watch officer, who managed not to throw up and decided to awaken Ambassador Hitch at once. Half an hour later, Hitch was in the office, sleepy and crabby at being awakened two hours before his accustomed time. The content of the note wasn’t contrived to brighten his day. He was soon on the phone to Foggy Bottom.
“Yes, that’s what we want you to say,” Scott Adler told him on the secure phone.
“They’re not going to like it.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, Carl.”
“Okay, just so you know,” Hitch told the SecState.
“Carl, we do think about these things, but the President is seriously pissed about-”
“Scott, I live here, y’know? I
“What are they going to do?” EAGLE asked.
“Before or after they take my head off?” Hitch asked in return. “They’ll tell me where to stick this note-a little more formally, of course.”
“Well, make it clear to them that the American people demand some sort of amends. And that killing diplomats cannot be done with impunity.”
“Okay, Scott. I know how to handle it. I’ll get back to you later.”
“I’ll be awake,” Adler promised, thinking of the long day in the office he was stuck with.
“See ya.” Hitch broke the connection.
CHAPTER 33 Square One
You may not talk to us this way,” Shen Tang observed. ”Minister, my country has principles which we do not violate. Some of those are respect for human rights, the right of free assembly, the right to worship God as one wishes, the right to speak freely. The government of the People’s Republic has seen fit to violate those principles, hence America’s response. Every other great power in the world recognizes those rights. China must as well.”
“Must? You tell us what we
“Minister, if China wishes to be a member of the community of nations, then, yes.”
“America will
“We do not claim to be. But we can choose those nations with whom we have normal relations, and we would prefer them to recognize human rights as do all other civilized nations.”
“Now you say we are uncivilized?” Shen demanded.
“I did not say that, Minister,” Hitch responded, wishing he’d not let his tongue slip.
“America does not have the right to impose its wishes on us or any other nation. You come here and dictate trade terms to us, and now also you demand that we conduct our internal affairs so as to suit you. Enough! We will not kowtow to you. We are not your servants. I reject this note.” Shen even tossed it back in Hitch’s direction to give further emphasis to his words.
“That is your reply, then?” Hitch asked.
“That is the reply of the People’s Republic of China,” Shen answered imperiously.
“Very well, Minister. Thank you for the audience.” Hitch bowed politely and withdrew. Remarkable, he thought, that normal-if not exactly friendly-relations could come unglued this fast. Only six weeks before, Shen had been over to the embassy for a cordial working dinner, and they’d toasted each other’s country in the friendliest manner possible. But Kissinger had said it: Countries do not have friends; they have interests. And the PRC had just shit on some of America’s most closely felt principles. And that was that. He walked back out to his car for the drive to the embassy.
Cliff Rutledge was waiting there. Hitch waved him into his private office.
“Well?”
“Well, he told me to shove it up my ass-in diplo-speak,” Hitch told his visitor. “You might have a lively session this morning.”
Rutledge had seen the note already, of course. “I’m surprised Scott let it go out that way.”
“I gather things at home have gotten a little firm. We’ve seen CNN and all, but maybe it’s even worse than it appears.”
“Look, I don’t condone anything the Chinese did, but all this over a couple of shot clergymen …”
“One was a diplomat, Cliff,” Hitch reminded him. “If you got your ass shot off, you’d want them to take it seriously in Washington, wouldn’t you?”
The reprimand made Rutledge’s eyes flare a little. “It’s President Ryan who’s driving this. He just doesn’t understand how diplomacy works.”
“Maybe, maybe not, but he is the President, and it’s our job to represent him, remember?”
“Hard to forget it,” Rutledge groused. He’d never be Undersecretary of State while that yahoo sat in the White House, and Undersecretary was the job he’d had his eye on for the last fifteen years. But neither would he get the job if he allowed his private feelings, however justified, to cloud his professional judgment. “We’re going to be called home or sent home,” he estimated.
“Probably,” Hitch agreed. “Be nice to catch some baseball. How do the Sox look this season?”
“Forget it. A rebuilding year. Once again.”
“Sorry about that.” Hitch shook his head and checked his desk for new dispatches, but there were none. Now he had to let Washington know what the Chinese Foreign Minister had said. Scott Adler was probably sitting in his seventh-floor office waiting for the secure direct line to ring.
“Good luck, Cliff.”
“Thanks a bunch,” Rutledge said on his way out the door.
Hitch wondered if he should call home and tell his wife to start packing for home, but no, not yet. First he had to call Foggy Bottom.
So, what’s going to happen?” Ryan asked Adler from his bed. He’d left orders to be called as soon as they got word. Now, listening to Adler’s reply, he was surprised. He’d thought the wording of the note rather wimpy, but evidently diplomatic exchange had even stricter rules than he’d appreciated. ”Okay, now what, Scott?”
“Well, we’ll wait and see what happens with the trade delegation, but even money we call them and Carl Hitch home for consultations.”
“Don’t the Chinese realize they could take a trade hit from all this?”
