Authors: Joel C. Rosenberg
“There’s really that much oil and gas there?” asked the vice president.
“There is,” said the president. “In fact, when you factor in all the other potential products and sources of revenue for which we—well, not me anymore—for which GSX and the Joshua Fund have developed a detailed business plan, Medexco could, before too long, do gross annual sales of somewhere on the order of $180 billion to $220 billion a year.”
“That’s more than Israel’s entire GDP right now,” noted the VP.
“That’s right. That’s the magnitude we’re talking about. Israel’s GDP is about $120 billion a year at the moment. This oil deal would absolutely change everything. And that’s not all. All this would make Medexco one of the largest oil companies in the world, on the order of, say, ExxonMobil, which does about a quarter of a trillion dollars a year in gross sales.”
“The company will be worth a bloody fortune,” Secretary Paine gasped, previously unclear about what Bennett had been cooking up.
“Now, of course,” continued MacPherson, “all of these figures were best-case scenarios based on low-intensity violence in the region, but no war. Obviously, these massive oil and gas drilling platforms and refinery facilities would be incredibly vulnerable to attack, making the investment practically worthless to most investors if the region were to see continually aggressive terrorism or plunge into a war.”
“That’s how Bennett got in so cheap?” asked the VP.
Bennett looked back at the president, who nodded assent for him to speak.
“That’s true, sir,” said Bennett. “Remember John D. Rockefeller’s little investment in Standard Oil back in 1862? He invested just $4,000 at the time. But seven years later…”
“…he owned about ninety percent of the company,” finished the VP, “and was sitting on a gold mine.”
“Exactly,” said Bennett. “And the rest is history. That’s why GSX so strongly recommended that the Joshua Fund invest a billion dollars in this project immediately. Because few others would take the risk in such an environment. Now, of course, if we had peace…”
“You mean if Iraq was essentially eliminated from the face of the planet,” Secretary Paine corrected.
Bennett refused to take the bait.
“…if we had peace—real peace, lasting peace of some sort—all these calculations become moot, or conservative at best. The real value of the company could be many times higher, virtually overnight.”
“Where would you go from there?” asked the VP.
Bennett looked back for guidance, but the president didn’t stop him.
“My sense is that we’d be able to leverage our initial investment into an IPO and raise hundreds of billions of dollars in capital to complete all the necessary facilities much faster than expected. We’d see the creation of huge shipping ports in Gaza. We’d see the Egyptians involved very quickly. I imagine they’d be interested in building huge refineries in the Sinai desert.”
“What about Jordan?” asked Paine.
“I think Jordan’s going to absolutely love this,” said Bennett, smiling. “Erin?”
“Absolutely,” McCoy jumped in. “Jon and I war-gamed this out. We believe the Jordanians could either invest in Medexco directly—or build refinery facilities and the like on their own land—or, Jon and I think more likely, they’d move quickly to develop high-end housing communities, resorts, golf courses. Their competitive advantage is they’ve got land and space and a good workforce. You put some serious capital in that country and look out. Our projection is that Gaza, the West Bank, and the Sinai would likely become the new Saudi Arabias, focusing on the actual drilling, refining, and industrial development of the petroleum. We believe Israel would become the new Silicon Valley and Switzerland of the region, emerging as one of the world’s great high-tech, banking, financial services and health-care capitals. Jordan, we suspect, could become the Palm Springs or Phoenix of the region—you know, tourists, trade, resorts, luxury spas…”
“A world of Biltmores and Ritz-Carltons?” asked the VP.
“Something like that,” McCoy agreed.
Now MacPherson stepped back into the conversation.
“The opportunities would be extraordinary,” said the president. “Israel and any Palestinian entity or state that emerged from a final peace negotiation could both potentially become wealthier and more powerful economically than most of the other OPEC countries—combined.”
Bennett noticed the Secretary of State, among others, was clearly intrigued by what he was hearing.
“And a publicly traded Medexco,” Bennett interjected, “with the vast majority of shares held, at least initially, by Israeli and Palestinian citizens—unless they chose to sell off—would be a godsend to the people there, particularly Arab families, many of whom are absolutely destitute and poverty-stricken.
“Best guess, Jon?” asked the president.
Bennett turned to McCoy.
“Erin?”
“Mr. President, our projections suggest that every Israeli and Palestinian could, one year from an IPO, be holding stock worth somewhere between a half a million and a million dollars per family.”
“Are you serious?” asked the vice president.
“A couple of years from now,” McCoy added, “if things stay peaceful and on track—and if people keep their stocks rather than sell out after the IPO and the subsequent holding period—they could very well be sitting on several multiples of that.”
“Just to put it in perspective,” Bennett added, “the average Palestinian family today earns less than $1,500 a year. We’d be turning most of them into multimillionaires essentially overnight.”
“Unbelievable,” remarked Kirkpatrick, rapidly calculating the cost-benefit analysis as well. “The incentives for peace—real peace, lasting peace, a secure peace—would be extraordinary.”
“What are the implications for the U.S. in your estimation, Jon?” asked the VP.
“Well, sir, I think I’d better defer to the president on that,” Bennett said, turning to MacPherson.
“Thanks, Jon,” said the president, already formulating his reply. “I guess, Bill, what I’d say is that this could seriously jump-start the global economy and avoid the total collapse in consumer and investor confidence we could see soon if we don’t move decisively on a series of fronts. I’d say that the pure psychic shock of neutralizing the planet’s greatest evil, and then—in fairly short order—announcing the discovery and development of oil and gas in the Holy Land, followed by a major peace treaty ceremony on the South Lawn of the White House, would absolutely electrify investors and consumers all over the world. Suddenly, anything and everything would seem possible. Peace and prosperity would be seen as the defining charter of the new millennium. I think consumer confidence would come roaring back instantly. It could be unlike anything we’ve ever seen before.”
“Or not,” added Mitchell.
“Right,” agreed the president. “Or not. We have one opportunity to make all this work. If we get it right, the rest of the world will have a chance to get it right. But if we blow it, we and the rest of the world will be in very, very serious trouble.”
Everyone now contemplated the enormity of the decisions about to be made. But clearly the mood and momentum were changing dramatically.
“Now, obviously, I could be totally wrong about this,” the president added. “But, you know, my gut instincts have served me well over the years.”
“So they have, Mr. President,” said the VP.
“But, sir,” interrupted Secretary Paine. “We are still talking about having to use nuclear weapons to achieve all this.”
“That’s true.”
“Then, Mr. President, I must repeat once again that it is not worth it. I beg you. I implore you. Please don’t do this.”
“Mr. Secretary, I hear what you’re saying. I do.”
“How can you even begin to consider incinerating several million souls with the push of a button, in the blink of an eye? We cannot become the barbarians we’ve been forced to fight. The end never justifies the means. Never. That was the lesson of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. That was the lesson of Vietnam. And that was the lesson of the Soviet experience in Afghanistan. My God, how can you…”
“Mr. Secretary, that’s absolutely not true,” the president shot back, firmly but fiercely. “That is not true. It just isn’t. The lesson of Vietnam was never fight a just war—a war against an Evil Empire and its proxies who seek to enslave mankind—unless you intend to win. The lesson of Afghanistan was don’t fight a war you have no business winning. And the lesson of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Mr. Secretary, was that a president must never—
never
—flinch from using any and all means necessary to prevent the wholesale slaughter of American citizens and our allies.”
“Sir, this is repaying evil for evil. It’s becoming the very essence of what we hope to defeat.”
“No, no, no—it’s not. It’s not. It’s stopping evil once and for all.”
“How? By using the instruments of evil, the instruments of war?”
“The instruments of war are not evil, Mr. Secretary. Not in and of themselves. Not unless they are in the hands of those who use them for evil. Preventing the slaughter of innocent Americans is not evil. It is profoundly moral and inherently just.”
“Mr. President? Do you hear yourself? Do you? Let’s say we invade Iraq. Maybe—maybe—we’ll lose fifty thousand Americans. Maybe. But maybe not. It’s a worst-case scenario. But you’re talking about murdering fifty times that number, guaranteed, and civilians at that.”
“Whose side are you on here, Tucker?”
Paine looked stunned.
“I resent that, sir.”
“So do I,” the president continued. “My oath was to uphold the U.S. Constitution and protect and defend the American people from all threats, foreign and domestic—
not
to protect and defend every man, woman, and child on the face of the earth. I am not God. I am not responsible for everyone. I am responsible to make sure our innocents—American innocents—are not slaughtered. Not by Saddam Hussein. Not by Mohammed Jibril. Not by the next Osama bin Laden. Nobody. Ever. Period. End of story. I didn’t bring us to the point of nuclear war, Mr. Secretary. Saddam did. But I am not sending ten thousand or twenty thousand or fifty thousand or even five hundred Americans to their certain deaths in a protracted ground war in Iraq—not when I know that Saddam has nuclear weapons and anthrax and Sarin gas and VX…not when I know Saddam is dying, desperate, hates us, and might think he has nothing to lose…not when I know that our people could be slaughtered by the Butcher of Baghdad.
That
, Mr. Secretary, would be evil. And I won’t be part of it, and you shouldn’t be either.”
For the first time, Bennett was glad these two men were not in the same room. It might have come to blows, no matter how badly injured the president was. Nevertheless, as much as he loved the president and thought he made sense, Bennett found himself internally siding with Paine.
He didn’t know what the president should do beyond launching air strikes. But he knew that under no circumstances should he resort to nuclear weapons. And in the end, Bennett was convinced that no matter how powerful and passionate an argument MacPherson was making now, in a few hours he would cool down and change course. Of this he had no doubt.
“It is this that I won’t be part of,” the secretary responded, just as passionately. “You are talking about pushing the button and then drilling for oil and making everyone in Israel and Palestine fat and happy. You’re talking about your little pipe dream, Medexco. And I agree, it
is
compelling. It
is
attractive. And under other circumstances it might be perfect. But right here, right now, it does not wash. You cannot kill millions of innocent Iraqis with a nuclear weapon and then hold an IPO. It is wrong, Mr. President. Profoundly wrong. And it is conduct unbecoming of you and the American people.”
“You are out of line, Mr. Secretary,” said the president. “Let me be perfectly clear. If the United States decides to use nuclear weapons against murderous enemies, it will not be in order to bring peace and prosperity to Israel and the Palestinians. No. It will be to protect the lives and vital national interests of our people and our allies—and to rid civilization of a mortal threat to its very survival. Period. What I was asked, Mr. Secretary, is what might come next. What I was asked was where we might go next after making such a dreadful and horrible decision. And what I’m saying is that this is one answer. Not the only answer. It’s not a panacea. But it is one answer among many. Yes, the world will still have problems. Yes, we’ll still have to deal with North Korea and China and the Sudan and AIDS and cancer and poverty and racism and all the other sins and ills and plagues that existed last week and last month. But I’m saying this could be one of many silver linings to a very dark cloud. This could be the dream of a sunny day after a terrible gathering storm. That’s what I’m talking about, Mr. Secretary. And I deeply resent your implications to the contrary.”
Bennett’s back and necked ached terribly.
He found himself hunched over, clenched up, deeply anxious about where this was leading.
“Mr. President, we only have eighteen minutes.”
It was Mitchell. Time was running out.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the president, “we need to begin to set things in motion. There will be time to make a final decision. But there are some things we need to do immediately.”
Bennett instinctively reached for McCoy’s hand under the table and squeezed gently. She glanced over at him, and squeezed back.
“Secretary Trainor.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I hereby direct you to commence Operation Imminent Cyclone immediately. Begin massive bombing runs against Baghdad, Tikrit, and all Iraqi air bases. Use conventional munitions only. Flush the bombers—the B-52s, F-18s, F-111s, the whole team. Use conventional cruise missiles and Tomahawks off the carriers to begin with—and make it hurt.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. President.”
“Get the 82
nd
and Delta Force on the ground immediately, hunting down those Scuds. How far away are they right now?”