Ultimatum (46 page)

“This won’t change what I’ll tell the guys on the ground here,” said Lisle. “I’m still going to tell them, if they don’t come back with a proposal next time, that’s it. This is just to make sure Wen knows we’re really serious, that this is his last chance.”

Olsen was silent.

“So what do you think about sending your guy to Beijing?”

“Do you really think now’s the time?” said Olsen.

“Mr. Secretary, I can just see we’re going to have this sequence of stuff and it’s going to be very difficult to be sure we have enough evidence that they actually aren’t committed to enable us to talk away. I’ve seen it happen. A leader-to-leader contact, even through a trusted intermediary, is what we need to short-circuit that.”

“You don’t think it might confuse things?”

“No. You said you wanted to find the point where they bust. You said that was critical. Mr. Secretary, believe me, that’s going to take forever unless we do this.”

There was silence again.

“Mr. Secretary?”

“Let me think about it.”

~ * ~

Thursday, June 23

President’s Study, The White House

It was the heat coming from the Taiwan lobby that Benton found perplexing. For a couple of weeks they had been talking up, with a number of congresspeople who were in their pocket making statements calling on the president to affirm his support for the continuing autonomy of the island. Joe Benton had made no specific statements about Taiwan during the campaign, and it had never featured as a major element on his agenda. Why were they starting now?

Otherwise, the news was better. F. William Knight was back from Beijing. He reported that it had taken him only a day to see Wen and their conversation had had a notably positive tone. Wen said he understood President Benton’s interest to advance to substantive proposals. He said he wasn’t aware his people had gone back to ask for more data and he promised to look into it and see whether any more data were really needed before progress could be made. If not, he would send his negotiators back with a proposal and the talks could proceed.

“That sounds about as good as we could expect,” said the president.

Olsen didn’t reply. He could have scripted Wen’s response himself.

“What do you think we’ll get back?” said John Eales.

Olsen shrugged. “Any proposal that does come back will likely have caveats about verification of the raw data. They have to do that to save face. They can’t demand access to the raw data one day and then turn around and say they don’t need it the next, not without paying some kind of lip service to that point.”

“They can have their caveats,” said Benton. “We can live with that as long as they come back with a serious offer and we can see they want to do a deal.”

Olsen nodded. The skepticism was in his eyes.

“I realize we haven’t passed that test yet, Larry.”

“They’re going to start with cuts on a per capita basis. The day we see them moving from that, that’s the day we know we’re in business.”

Benton shook his head, smiling. He felt a lot more hopeful than his secretary of state.

“How long until we expect to see their proposal?” Eales asked.

Wen had told Knight he didn’t want to delay. “If he wants to show us he’s serious,” said Olsen, “probably two to three weeks.”

“They must have had some kind of a proposal ready when they were talking to Gartner.”

“Not necessarily. If they never treated it seriously, it’s possible they never formulated a position. Just kept saying no and watched Art Riedl turn up with something new every time. My guess,” said Olsen, turning to the president, “is that they do have something and have had for a while. But they can’t come back with it tomorrow. They have to make like they’re only doing it now because they only just accepted our data.”

“Well, if they have to do it like that, they have to do it. Whatever. You think two or three weeks?”

“I’d say that’s optimistic.”

The president thought about the implications of the timing. The opportunity for a Fourth of July announcement had closed, but that had always been a remote possibility, and an arbitrary deadline. There were more important considerations. The budget bill, which was the linchpin of the New Foundation package, was still caught up on the Hill, and he and Angela Chavez were having to spend all the time they could find lobbying the waverers in both houses. The G9 meeting in India was coming up in a little over a month. Time-tabling meetings for the fourth Kyoto round were about to start, and the first UN-sponsored agenda discussions were due to begin in Bangkok in November. Benton was under extreme pressure to go further publicly in his commitment to Kyoto. His secretary of environment, Andrea Powers, was becoming increasingly frustrated at his unwillingness to do that. And now there was this sudden awakening of the Taiwan lobby. That disturbed him. It made him feel how vulnerable he was to a leak about the Oslo channel—not necessarily the content of the talks, but even a rumor that talks were taking place—and how painful the ramifications would be for everything he was trying to achieve.

“What do we know about this Taiwan thing?” he asked.

“I’m meeting Alderman and Tang tomorrow,” said Eales, naming two of the congresspeople who were most vocal on the issue. Eales had had people trying to find out why the lobby was talking up. He had put off meeting with the congressmen in case his interest fuelled their activity, but he hadn’t been able to get to the source of the matter any other way.

“You think someone’s picked up a hint about talks between us and the Chinese and jumped to the conclusion it’s about Taiwan?”

“That would be logical,” said Olsen. “Any substantive talks between us would be assumed to include Taiwan.”

“You think the Norwegians have leaked?”

“They’re usually pretty good.”

“Anything could have happened,” said Eales. “Some journalist in Oslo spots us coming or going…”

“John, we don’t exactly line up at immigration.” Olsen turned to the president. “Let’s remember, Mr. President, we’re in a negotiation. Everything’s a weapon for your adversary.”

“Larry, seriously, you think Wen’s behind this?” Benton smiled. “You’re starting to worry me.”

“It’s like a pressure valve. Mr. President, don’t fool yourself. Wen can turn the pressure up on you just by getting his people to put out a hint to the Taiwan lobby that we’re talking. We don’t have that kind of weapon to use against him in China. But he has it here, and he’ll use it.”

“I don’t buy it,” said Eales. “Larry, it works against him. Pressure from the Taiwan lobby makes it harder for us to do a deal with him.”

“Does it?” Olsen looked at Eales knowingly. “Or does it makes us want to do it quicker? Wen’s smart. If the pressure’s getting too much for us to bear, maybe we’ll give him more in Oslo just to get it done.”

~ * ~

Tuesday, July 12

Eidsvoll, outside Oslo, Norway

It happened quicker than Pete Lisle expected. Less than four weeks after the last, aborted meeting in Oslo, they were back again. That was encouraging. What happened next wasn’t.

Pete Lisle opened his briefcase and reached inside.

“We are pleased to say we are authorized to receive your proposal,” said Lin, “even before you provide the data we requested last time.”

Lisle stopped, hand on the file with the U.S. proposal. Neither of the Chinese delegates seemed to be getting anything out of their briefcases.

He let go of the file and closed his case. “We’re exchanging proposals, right?”

The Chinese pair looked at him blankly.

Lisle glanced at Oliver Wu, then turned back to the Chinese negotiators on the other side of the table. “We’re swapping proposals. That was the deal we agreed.” Lisle made a giving movement with one hand, and a taking movement with the other.

“We give you ours, you give us yours.” “We are authorized to receive you proposal,” repeated Lin. “As you remember, last time we asked for further information and the raw data so that we could perform an independent analysis, but out of consideration for the seriousness of the matter and his regard for President Benton, President Wen is prepared to consider your proposal even without receiving this, although we must later receive this as well.”

Pete Lisle stared at Lin. “Let me get this straight. You haven’t brought a proposal?”

“Please show us your proposal,” said Gao Jichuan. His English was more heavily accented than Lin’s. “The reason we are here is we understand you have a proposal.”

Pete Lisle took the briefcase right off the table. “We swap proposals. That’s the reason we’re here.”

“Are you saying you don’t have a proposal?” said Gao.

“I’m not saying that. I’m asking you for yours.”

“President Wen has made a very generous concession to consider your proposal even though the data has not yet been given to us,” said Gao. “To ignore the gesture of President Wen is a great insult.”

Pete Lisle glanced at Lin. The other man didn’t meet his eyes.

Lisle turned back to Gao. “We have no intention to insult President Wen.”

Gao smiled. “Then please show us your proposal.”

“I’m unable to show you anything unless you provide your proposal as well.”

“Do you want me to insult President Wen with that answer?” said Gao.

“I’m not insulting President Wen.”

“Then hand it over,” said Gao peremptorily. “Give us the proposal and we can move on.”

“I’m not handing anything over. You provide your proposal as well, like we agreed, and we can talk.”

“Are you stopping the talk? Is that what you want to do? You came to us! You came to us and said you want to talk and now you want to stop it? The fault will be on your hands.” Gao lapsed into Mandarin, talking rapidly to Lin. Wu listened. It was meant for him, he knew.

“They know the risk they’re running,” Wu whispered, translating Gao’s words for Lisle as the Chinese negotiator gesticulated. “They know the risk they’re running and they still want to do it. President Wen won’t send us back again. This is their last chance and they refuse to go on.”

There was silence.

Lin Shisheng smiled at Lisle. “Pete, you should give us the proposal. Then we can see what happens. Don’t let us finish like this. President Wen has made a big concession.”

Asking for something he was never going to get, thought Lisle, and then trying to gain an advantage by conceding that he wouldn’t demand it after all. Like that was a trick he hadn’t seen before—about a thousand times.

“I’m sorry, I’m not in a position to do that,” said Lisle.

“Then please consult your president.”

“No. I can’t consult the president on this. I have clear instructions. Lin, we have an agreement.”

“President Benton would not want to insult President Wen,” said Gao. “I can only imagine President Benton is not aware of the concession President Wen has made.”

“President Wen would not want to go back on a deal he has done,” said Lisle. “I can only imagine, therefore, that President Wen’s instructions have been misunderstood.”

“You should consult.”

“
You
should consult.”