PDLP Chapter 276 A weak nation has no diplomacy
Chapter 276 A weak nation has no diplomacy
Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. King Fahd's Palace.
The hot, dry monsoon winds blowing from the Red Sea, carrying fine sand, continuously pounded against the towering blast walls surrounding the palace.
Inside the palace, large areas of hand-woven Persian carpets covered the entire floor of the reception room.
U.S. Defense Secretary Dick Cheney sat on a dark leather sofa.
He was wearing a dark black suit and took out a stack of documents with a top-secret CIA watermark from a black leather briefcase placed on the carpet beside him.
Sitting opposite him was Saudi Arabia's King Fahd.
Cheney didn't rush to speak. He pulled out several high-resolution black and white photographs with a grainy texture and laid them flat on the marble coffee table between the two of them.
In the photo, large, dense black shadows are arranged in a wedge-shaped array, covering the background of endless yellow sand.
"His Majesty."
Cheney's voice was steady. He didn't even point to the photos, but simply folded his hands on his knees.
"I imagine your country's foreign ministry received the official notification from Baghdad yesterday, didn't it?"
Fahd's gaze fell on the photograph on the marble tabletop. He held a string of gold prayer beads in his hand, his thumb moving the beads at a steady pace.
"Received," Fahd said, and the royal translator beside him immediately switched from Arabic to English in a low voice. "Just yesterday afternoon. The diplomatic note from Baghdad was sent directly to Riyadh. In his report, Saddam defined this cross-border military operation as... the recapture of the nineteenth province that had been illegally stripped from history."
Fahd looked away from the photo and at Cheney across from him.
"President Saddam's special envoys subsequently gave clear assurances. They declared that the military crackdown triggered by Kuwait's malicious overproduction of oil was entirely an internal affair of the Arab world. The advance of the troops was limited to resolving the historical territorial dispute between the two countries."
The golden rosary beads made a soft clinking sound between her fingers.
"The envoy promised that Iraqi tanks would absolutely not cross the sea route in southern Kuwait, nor did they intend to violate Saudi Arabia's borders."
Cheney looked at Fahd, his eyes completely calm.
"That's a truly sincere promise."
Cheney leaned forward slightly, his gaze falling on the coffee table.
"Then, Your Majesty, please take a look at these satellite images." He paused for two seconds, giving the other party time to observe. "Just four hours ago, these armored groups had completely taken control of the entire territory of Kuwait. But their vanguard did not set up camp as promised."
Fahd paused for a moment as he moved the prayer beads.
"Their tracks are still running," Cheney said, looking into Fahad's eyes. "And their heavy supply convoys are gathering south. The entire attacking line is now at your country's border."
Fahd frowned. He stared at the armored formations arrayed in battle formation in the photograph.
"This...maybe it's just their routine defensive deployment along the border." Fahd's voice carried a hint of hesitation. "There is still room for mediation between Arab brothers through the Arab League."
His gaze fell on Cheney's face. He roughly understood what these Americans wanted to do.
"Making an overreaction in military matters at this time could have disastrous consequences."
"Mediation requires both sides to be seated at the table," Cheney said firmly. "And right now, the other side is sitting in a main battle tank."
Cheney straightened up.
"The straight-line distance from their current position on the Kuwaiti border to the Ghawar Field, the core of your country's eastern region, is less than 200 kilometers."
"And this 200-kilometer stretch is entirely flat desert, with no natural geographical barriers to defend. Once Saddam's armored vehicles cross that border, how long can your country's eastern province's defenses hold out? Two days? Or one day?"
"Are you really going to gamble the lifeline of the entire kingdom on a dictator who has just annexed a neighboring country?"
Fahd's breathing became heavy. He stared at the armored formations arrayed in battle formation in the photograph.
The golden rosary beads made a soft clinking sound between her fingers.
"Your Excellency Cheney," Fahd gripped the rosary in his hand, "Mecca and Medina (the two holiest cities in Islam)... are both within our territory."
He looked up. The royal translator beside him immediately switched from Arabic to English in a hesitant voice.
"Sending hundreds of thousands of foreign troops of different faiths, armed and ready, onto the Arabian Peninsula will thoroughly enrage the Ulama (religious scholars) within the country." Fahd looked at the US Secretary of Defense opposite him, speaking slowly. "If those scholars were to cause trouble in the mosques, the royal family would face unpredictable internal pressure."
"We need time to calm them down and find a reason that they can accept."
"By the time religious scholars reach a consensus, the eastern oil fields will already be a sea of fire," Cheney said calmly. "Losing those oil fields will cause Saudi Arabia's economic backbone to collapse instantly. Then, who will protect your kingdom?"
Cheney stared directly at Fahd.
"The 1st Tactical Fighter Wing of the Air Force and the advance units of the 82nd Airborne Division of the Army are already on standby at Fort Bragg. If you give the order, our fighter jets will be able to land on the runway at Dhahran Air Base within fifteen hours."
"Survival, or taboo?"
You must make a choice now.
The room quieted down.
Fahd closed his eyes. The golden rosary between his fingers stopped turning.
At an emergency meeting of the Arab League in Cairo, diplomats were still arguing over the wording of a statement of condemnation. Hoping for political maneuvering within the Arab world to halt the 120,000-strong army is undoubtedly a pipe dream.
Bin Laden did submit a defense plan. Although his forces were filled with religious fanaticism and had extensive guerrilla warfare experience, they were mostly light infantry.
To use flesh and blood to withstand hundreds or thousands of main battle tanks on a desert plain? What a joke! Even the Soviet army couldn't do that.
Agreeing to the deployment of US troops would cause far more than just a religious "spiritual loss." The Saudi King's official title is "Guardian of the Two Holy Sites" (Mecca and Medina). In Islamic doctrine, a large-scale invasion of the Arabian Peninsula by infidel armies is a grave act of "blasphemy." If he agrees today, the authority of the royal family will be severely damaged, and the difficulty of governance will increase significantly.
Moreover, in the foreseeable future, in order to quell the discontent of the clergy, the royal family will have to give more domestic voice to extreme conservative religious forces, which will, to some extent, hinder the process of social modernization in the country.
Most importantly, bowing to Washington means completely surrendering the country's defense autonomy. In the future geopolitical chessboard of the Middle East, Saudi Arabia will be permanently branded as dependent on a superpower, losing its voice in the Arab world. (Following this, Saudi Arabia will lose its independent diplomatic bargaining power for a considerable period, and will have to coordinate with the United States in its global strategy during the late Cold War and post-Cold War era.)
Fahd's breathing became heavy, his chest heaving beneath his magnificent robes.
Washington would never tolerate one-fifth of the world's oil reserves falling into Saddam Hussein's hands. If he had rejected Cheney today, the United States could have simply stood by and watched Iraqi armored vehicles crush the royal palace in Riyadh, and then forcibly taken over the land and oil fields as "liberators."
Dignity, sovereignty, religion.
All of this is contingent on the continued existence of Saudi Arabia. The Ghawar oil field is less than 200 kilometers from the border, and Iraqi tank tracks could reduce it to ashes in just one day.
The gold rosary beads left a deep red mark on the pad of the thumb.
Fahd's taut back slumped slightly for a moment.
Is this the powerlessness of a monarch of a weak nation...?
Faced with a life-or-death situation, his proud royal power and dignity had no right to negotiate.
Ten seconds later.
Fahd opened his eyes, but seemed to have aged ten years in an instant.
The fingers that had been moving the golden prayer beads resumed their steady motion.
"Open the airspace and runways of all eastern bases." Fahd looked at his defense advisor beside him and gave the order, "Let the US troops in."
……
Washington, D.C. The Oval Office of the White House.
The air in the Oval Office, a symbol of the highest power in the United States, is filled with the aroma of freshly brewed black coffee.
George Bush sat behind a desk made of oak from the retired HMS Resolute of the Royal Navy.
Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Colin Powell stood in front of his desk. He pointed to a map of the Persian Gulf defense line spread out on the table, his finger tracing the long Atlantic shipping route heavily.
"Mr. President, sending 100,000 young men, along with their heavy armor and logistical supplies, into a desert halfway around the world... far exceeds the Pentagon's current conventional deployment capabilities."
Powell looked up, his tone becoming very serious.
"The reports submitted daily by the Military Sealift Command and the Airlift Command are all about requesting ships and aircraft. They're also requesting parts for armored vehicles and air defense radars, and even fresh water for 100,000 people to drink every day in the desert. If we rely on ourselves to transport them, our logistics will break down at any moment."
He looked into Bush's eyes.
"This war cannot be fought solely at the expense of the United States. We must involve our allies who also rely on Persian Gulf oil. Whether it's deploying their cargo ships or directly contributing military funds, they must share this burden."
Bush nodded slightly. He reached out and picked up the confidential diplomatic telegram from the Japanese Embassy in the United States, which was on the table.
His gaze lingered on the paper for a few seconds. He placed the cipher machine on the table.
"One hundred and thirty billion US dollars," Bush said calmly. "That's Tokyo's reply."
National Security Advisor Brent Scowcroft stood by, offering timely supplementary information.
"Prime Minister Kaifu stated his position during a parliamentary inquiry. Due to Article 9 of the pacifist constitution, Tokyo cannot send Self-Defense Forces to participate in military operations in the Gulf region. This $13 billion is their final solution to share the costs of the multinational force."
A brief silence fell over the office.
Bush extended his finger and tapped it slowly twice on the heavy oak table.
"One hundred and thirty billion dollars." Bush looked up at Scowcroft. "It can cover most of our military spending in the early stages of our operations in the Middle East."
He paused for a moment, looking at the two of them.
"More importantly, this is equivalent to directly siphoning off $13 billion of fiscal surplus from the Japanese Ministry of Finance's treasury."
Bush stood up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked out at the street scene of Washington.
"Over the past few years, Tokyo has used its huge trade surplus to cause us a lot of trouble in the semiconductor and automotive industries. Now that this money is in our military spending account, they have less confidence to subsidize domestic companies."
Scowcroft nodded slightly.
"In terms of weakening a competitor's economic strength, this is indeed a worthwhile deal. However, Mr. President," Scowcroft flipped through the memo in his hand, "the domestic media and voters are now very dissatisfied with Japan's 'spending money without shedding blood' attitude. They believe that Japan is free-riding on the collective security of the United States."
Bush turned around.
"This is exactly the kind of public opinion effect I wanted, Brent."
He walked to the resolute table and pressed his fingertips heavily on the confidential diplomatic telegram from Tokyo.
"We bleed in the Middle East to protect an oil route that the Japanese depend on every day. Meanwhile, politicians in Tokyo sit comfortably in their air-conditioned offices writing checks. Of course, voters are furious."
He pushed the coded message forward half an inch.
"Free ride" and "Checkbook diplomacy"
Bush looked at Scowcroft.
"Have the State Department's press officer brief the media. Encourage them to use that vocabulary. In every public forum, ridicule Japan's actions to the fullest extent. Portray them as cowards hiding behind the dollar, seeking only to live in peace."
Powell frowned.
"Mr. President, the Tokyo cabinet's behavior is truly infuriating."
"But... Article 9 of that Constitution was written under the personal supervision of General MacArthur."
He shrugged.
"Legally, they don't have the authority to send troops overseas. Even if the Navy wants to appease us, it's impossible for them to bypass Congress and amend the constitution in just a few weeks. If we force them to bleed in this dead end, isn't that a bit...?"
That's not very ethical.
Powell did not say the second half of his sentence.
"Colin. The Berlin Wall has fallen."
Bush's voice softened.
"The Warsaw Pact is falling apart. The leader in Moscow is being dragged into a quagmire by their country's dire economic situation, and they are no longer able to exercise their veto power against us in the UN Security Council. The greatest threat to the United States in Europe is receding."
Bush placed his hands on the table and looked directly at Powell.
"The old Cold War framework is crumbling. The United States is about to establish a new world order led by us. In this new order, we need to redistribute global security costs."
"Japan is a massive economic giant. But a giant with enormous wealth but no military projection capabilities is an uncontrollable variable for us on the future geopolitical chessboard."
Bush pointed to the diplomatic cable with his finger.
"We need to break through their so-called veneer of peace. Today we'll force them to contribute money, tomorrow we'll force them to contribute personnel. We'll use public humiliation and diplomatic isolation to test their limits in crossing constitutional red lines. We'll gradually pull them into our global strategic system."
"When they are ridiculed in front of the whole world, when they find that their proud yen cannot buy an ounce of international dignity without a military umbrella."
"This sense of defeat as 'second-class citizens' can greatly undermine their psychological defenses at the negotiating table."
Bush looked at Scowcroft.
"At that point, if we make any demands at the Japan-U.S. Structural Inequality (SII) trade negotiating table, they will become incredibly weak and submissive."
Scowcroft quickly jotted down these strategic tones in a memo.
"I understand. The State Department will continue to pressure Tokyo to demonstrate 'leadership' commensurate with its economic strength."
"Very good." Bush straightened up.
"If their constitution forbids sending military personnel, then let them send civilians. Medical teams, engineering teams, logistics teams. To move supplies to Saudi ports, to build runways in the desert."
"Anyone with an Asian face will be included on our logistics list and sent to the war zone. I want the whole world to see that they are already tied to our war machine."