Come Nineveh, Come Tyre: The Presidency of Edward M. Jason Read online

  “Well,” Tom August said doubtfully. “Well—yes, I guess I am. I guess I have stated the issues, basically. As I see them, anyway.”

  “Good,” Ted Jason said. “Mr. President, did you wish to add anything further in support of your position and your nomination of Mrs. Knox?”

  The President gave him a look as thoughtful as his own and spoke with an equal calmness.

  “No,” he said slowly, “I don’t think I have much to add—except possibly this. We are still confronted here, as Tom says, with exactly the same issues we were confronted with at the convention and in the National Committee. Violence masquerading as peace on the one side, a genuine concern that the country remain strong in spirit and in fact on the other. And, as before, no real compromise possible between the two unless there is genuine desire for compromise on the part of those most directly involved.” His face became grave, his voice touched with sorrow. “Until four days ago, that meant two people. Now it means just you. Maybe you should tell us how much you want to compromise between these two points of view. Our opinions and desires, after all, are probably academic alongside yours.”

  But Governor Jason, as the President surmised, was not to be drawn into a revelation of his position just yet.

  “I am open to suggestion at this point,” he said quietly.

  “Very well, then,” the President said, somewhat tartly. “I have suggested Mrs. Knox as the best candidate to unify the party and the country. How about it?”

  There was an uneasy, and in some cases angry, stirring along the table and before anyone could respond Roger P. Croy had his hand up and his mouth open.

  “Governor—” he said. “Governor—if I may. It seems to me there are further things to be said before we can proceed—you can proceed—to a decision. Possibly also there are other candidates to be proposed. With all respects to one of the most gracious, most attractive and most intelligent ladies in American politics”—Beth gave him a wry smile, but he was, as usual, impervious—“the President’s suggestion may be too pat. It may be too neat for the grave problems that confront the country. It may be one of those solutions which, seeming on their faces perfect and profound, exacerbate differences rather than settle them. How would the selection of Mrs. Knox, one wonders, settle anything, any more than the selection of her husband did?”

  “He had the choice,” Cullee Hamilton said with a sudden anger, “and he chose Ted Jason. You thought that solved plenty at the time. Now that your boy is on top, you don’t see it that way. You’re a great man, Governor Croy. You’ve got real character, that’s for sure.”

  “Well, Mr. Chairman,” Roger P. Croy said blandly, “I really see no need to indulge in personalities. I am sure the Congressman will not deny that the situation has sharply and tragically changed from what it was when the late Secretary of State had the choice he refers to. For one thing, even conceding Mrs. Knox’s many virtues—which all of us concede, all admire and none deny—there is no single figure of her husband’s stature remaining on the national scene to represent his point of view. Unless, of course,” he said with a sudden soft blandness, “the President himself might wish to step down and run for Vice President, as a contribution to national unity?”

  But at this, to Roger Croy’s obvious delight, both Ted and the President answered together.

  “I have said repeatedly—” the President began.

  The President has said repeatedly—” Ted began.

  Then they stopped and laughed a little, while varying degrees of amusement flickered down the table.

  “Obviously we agree,” the President said, “so that ends that ploy—that Croy ploy, perhaps I should say. We could, on our part, give you alternatives, despite your kind statement, Governor, that we are so devoid of brains and ability that we have none. There is, for instance, Congressman Hamilton. How about a black on the ticket? Surely that would please a great many. How about Mr. Leffingwell, here? He has quite a constituency among those who are honest enough to appreciate an honest man who has had an honest change of heart. We have the Senate Majority Leader, certainly a man who has proved through many a long season and many a legislative battle that he is deeply and devoutly devoted to the preservation of America.… We have candidates, you see, Governor Croy. It is not as though we are completely devoid of anyone at all. Who, might I ask, do you propose? Yourself?”

  At this Roger P. Croy, who had indeed indulged such ambitions at the national convention a couple of weeks ago when it appeared Ted might beat Orrin for the nomination, uttered a deprecating laugh.

  “Mr. President,” he said, “your humor does you credit. But it is not to my poor person that Governor Jason should turn for running mate. Surely he has better alternatives than that. We might, for instance, propose the distinguished chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. How about that?”

  This time the President shared his reaction with Tom August.

  “What?” he demanded with an indignant disbelief, and,

  “What?” cried Tom August with a ludicrous dismay.

  “Certainly,” Roger Croy said calmly. “Who more fitting? He has just given us a most cogent and effective statement of the issue before the country. He has just shown himself a most reasoned and powerful spokesman for the point of view held by many of us, including, I believe, our candidate for President. So, why not?”

  “Well, if you really want to know—” the President said; and then he smiled. “But that would take too long. Anyway, you don’t really want it, do you, Tom? I seem to have that impression.”

  “Gracious,” Senator August said. “My gracious! I never thought—”

  “Neither did anyone else,” Fred Van Ackerman agreed with a brutal flatness, “so that takes care of that.”

  “Well—” Tom August began indignantly, stung out of his usual meekness. “Well, I—” But no one came to his aid, and after a moment his voice trailed away.

  Into the silence there intruded the flat, heavy voice of Walter Dobius in his most pompous, Moses-leading-the-Israelites-out-of-difficulties manner.

  “Governor Croy is too modest,” he said calmly. “Surely he is far and away the most qualified candidate of the group which, I believe, represents the present mood and intention of the country. And we do not yet know how Mrs. Knox feels about it. Perhaps—” he turned to peer at Beth down the length of the table—“she is not as eager as her supporters.”

  Called thus directly to their judgment, she returned his look with a gaze which she hoped was as bland and steady as his own, though she felt a sudden desperate trembling inside. If you were only here, she thought; but the other half of the great Illinois team of “Orrin and Beth” would never be with her again. She drew a deep breath and spoke in a voice that shook only slightly.

  “Yes, Walter: perhaps that would be advisable, to find out what I think. Looking at it from a strictly pragmatic political point of view—” and even the harshest critics of her husband around the table listened with close attention, for Beth Knox had the reputation of being as shrewd and practical a politician as any in Washington—“having me on the ticket would of course greatly strengthen Governor Jason’s chances, because it would bring to him all the many Americans—and they are not, perhaps, so much in the minority as Tom assumes—who supported my husband and believe in the policies he stood for. On the other hand—” and she gave a small, rather wistful smile—“does Governor Jason need any strengthening? Isn’t he already so strong that his election is a certainty? And where else can my husband’s supporters go, if not to him? And so why does he need me?

  “I will leave aside any question of whether or not I would like to be on the ticket, because I regard that as quite academic under the circumstances. It is not a necessity for victory, and so what I might feel about it myself is really not important at all. If you should wish me to serve—” and she looked straight at Ted to emphasize the choice of pronoun—“I should of course be willing to do so. If you decide otherwise, I should of cours
e support your choice and the ticket.

  “I would, though,” she said, as they all listened intently, studying her pleasantly attractive, comfortable face, “like to make just one point about it. You do have the power, Governor, of course. You can choose anyone you like. You don’t have to choose anyone from the ‘war party,’ if we have to use Tom’s rather unpleasant way of putting it. But you perhaps ought to keep in mind that there are a great many people who believe in these policies, and that they are not bloodthirsty, not ravenous for war, not irresponsible. They just have a different way of looking at the same set of facts involving Communist power, particularly Soviet power; and they see a different solution and a different way of meeting the challenge. Basically, maybe, the difference is that they admit the challenge, while many on your side of it—or so it seems to us—will not.

  “So: I think you would be taking quite a gamble, and perhaps be making quite a mistake, to dismiss them summarily and ignore them completely in making your choice for Vice President. You can do it, your power of selection is absolute; but it might be really a very ungracious thing, and also one that would weaken your hand in the White House. Because the country really should be unified, Ted; we need it desperately, after these recent months and years; and it can’t be done by deliberately ignoring a great segment of the population.…

  “That, at any rate,” she concluded quietly, “is how I see it. Those are my thoughts on it. I offer them to you for what they are worth.”

  And she sat back with a little sigh, brushing a stray gray hair with a hand that trembled slightly, as Governor Croy leaned forward again to speak in a calm and well-reasoned voice.

  “Which, if you will forgive me, Mrs. Knox, is not, perhaps, as much as they should be worth at such a time and given such a serious situation in the country.

  “We all appreciate, I am sure,” he went on smoothly as the President and Bob Munson showed signs of protesting his comment, “the great patriotism with which you speak, and the profound and sincere concern that prompts your remarks. You have made a most generous and becoming offer—to serve or not to serve as it suits Governor Jason’s pleasure; and there is no one of us, I am sure, who has any doubts whatsoever that you have the ability, the intelligence and the character to fill the high office of Vice President of the United States if Governor Jason should so desire. I for one would rest very comfortably with it, I will state to the group—under present circumstances. But, Mrs. Knox and ladies and gentlemen—” and his voice sank to a hushed and thoughtful low—“as we all are so tragically aware in these times—circumstances change.

  “Twice in recent days hands unknown have struck down the leaders of America. And even you, Governor, may not be immune.…

  “I don’t want to raise hobgoblins,” he said firmly, as an uneasy stirring greeted his remark, “but it is necessary for us to face these things. If by any tragic mishap, yet a third leader should be removed from us—and if he were then in the White House—and if Mrs. Knox were his Vice President—then she would be President.”

  “And would that be so bad?” Bob Munson demanded with a sudden sharp impatience.

  “Ah, Senator,” Governor Croy said gently, “it would not be bad in the sense you mean it, or in the sense that the country would not have a wise and steady leader. But don’t we come back, right here, to Mrs. Knox’s own point? Aren’t we faced with the possibility that the vast numbers who place their faith in Governor Jason and his policies would thereby be, in a very real sense, summarily disenfranchised?

  “Would his policies, even with the best will in the world on the part of his successor, not be inevitably and perhaps harshly reversed in some major degree? Should he not in short, have someone beside him who would continue to carry out his policies of peace, the policies, which I happen to believe, are favored by the great majority of our countrymen?

  “It is, I suggest, something to think about. It is something to consider most carefully. It is, to me, the kernel of what we are discussing here. It is not so much continuity of office. It is continuity of ideas.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned,” Bob Munson said. “And isn’t that what’s involved right now? Continuity of Orrin Knox’s ideas—continuity of the ideas that won endorsement of the national convention and the National Committee—continuity of the ideas that won the victory and took control of the party not a week ago?”

  “But are not,” Roger P. Croy pointed out softly, “in control of it now. That is what you must remember, Senator: which are not in control of it now.”

  Again there was a silence as all along the table they studied one another carefully and then turned at last to the silent figure at their head. But from the handsome face, the distinguished profile, the tired, deep-set eyes, they did not, for several moments, receive response. Then abruptly Ted spoke, passing across his eyes a hand, which, like Beth’s, trembled, slightly from emotion and fatigue.

  “You have all been very kind to come here today,” he said, “and I appreciate your giving me your advice. But, as you truly say, Beth, it is my decision, and I think I have to make it—alone.

  “I am aware,” he went on, as again there was the fitful, restless, demanding movement along the table, “that time is of the essence. I am aware you need—the country needs—I need—a decision at the earliest possible moment. The things you have said, particularly the President, Mrs. Knox, Senator August, Governor Croy, have needed to be said, they are important and I have had to have them in order to make up my mind. But now I—” and he repeated the pronoun and gave it a slight but unchallengeable emphasis—“I must make up my mind. And no one can do it for me.

  “Also,” he added with a sudden little smile that foreshadowed the return of his considerable charm, “I am feeling a little tired and a little rocky still, and I think maybe it’s time for me to take a little snooze and gather myself together. But I promise you,” he concluded, abruptly grave again, “that I shall have a decision for you by tomorrow and no later. And now—” he stood up, slowly and somewhat awkwardly, but managing reasonably well; and they perforce stood with him.

  After they had come forward to shake his hand and pay their respects, and just before they began to move slowly and somewhat uncertainly toward the door, he held up a hand and smiled again.

  “Keep the wolves outside at bay,” he commanded. “No statements, please, no interviews, and no comments on me, my appearance, the Vice Presidency or anything.”

  “What do you think?” Bob Munson murmured to the President as they left the room and started along the hallway to the front door.

  The President shrugged.

  “Who knows?” Then he frowned. “He’ll call in Croy and Dobius and the NAWAC crew again later, I suppose, and they’ll decide it without us.”

  But in this the President was mistaken, for no one was called back to Patsy’s house that night, no one was telephoned, and all who tried to telephone were politely brushed off. And at Press Club bar and Georgetown cocktail party, in humble home and stately mansion, on tube and airwave and printed page, the speculation raged and grew through the night and into the morning and on into the afternoon of the following day, while the nominee for President rested and repaired his health further and, not entirely without calculation and not entirely without enjoyment, let the world dance to the tune he set.

  2

  The announcement, when it finally came at 6 p.m. on the day after the meeting at Patsy’s, was surprising to some, anti-climactic to others, worrisome to many, and for all those around the world whose plans and strategies were geared to the troubles of what they regarded as the West’s bemused, uncertain and declining giant, a pleasing and encouraging sign.

  Dutifully, at home, the build-up began.

  “The selection of ex-Gov. Roger P. Croy of Oregon as Vice-Presidential running mate for Gov. Edward M. Jason of California,” Walter Dobius wrote busily in his 436-newspaper column at beautiful “Salubria” in the steaming Virginia countryside near Leesburg, “gives great a
nd justified hope to a war-weary nation and a war-weary world that the United States is finally going to turn away from the international aggression and adventurism which has characterized these past few frustrated years.

  “The endorsement of the National Committee, given in a brief pro forma session immediately following Governor Jason’s formal announcement of his choice for running mate, makes the fact clear for all the world to note: A peace ticket is in the field in America, and in America a peace ticket is going to be elected.

  “This fact is as certain as anything in American history has ever been.

  “With it come still wider certainties, more profound and more gratifying to all who believe in the concepts of lasting peace among nations and the ability of mankind to live in harmony with itself.

  “Now the unjust decisions of the war in Gorotoland will inevitably, in due course, be reversed by a Jason-Croy Administration. Liberal, democracy-loving Prince Obifumatta will be assisted to replace his corrupt, reactionary, fascist-minded cousin, Prince Terry.

  “Now, more importantly, the shameful conflict in Panama, which is threatening to turn into another Viet Nam on America’s very doorstep, will be ended. Canal and country will be placed in the hands of their rightful owners, the democratic and forward-looking Panamanian People’s Liberation Movement led by Felix Labaiya-Sofra.

  “And most importantly of all, new, genuine and really good-faith negotiations will begin with the Soviet Russians, whose military might increasingly surrounds us and whose earnest desire for genuine world peace is apparent everywhere their ships, subs, missiles, planes and bases encircle and embrace the earth.

  “All of these, and more, will come from the triumph of Governor Edward Jason and Roger P. Croy, the very able man he has chosen to run with him and assist him as Vice President.… ”