When Snowden reached Russia for political asylum (oh, the irony) protocol was to cancel the G-20 summit meeting with President Putin after he refused to cooperate with US authorities on Snowden’s extradition. Vlad “the dad” was protecting a kid with unrestricted access to the US intelligence honeycomb, very precarious to American interests. The CIA enlisted Snowden’s real father to facilitate some form of pressure (basically emotional blackmail) on the young whistleblower. So far, nothing had worked, and the media portrayed Russia as an enemy once again.
The president set up another meeting with Putin, but this time, he had an ace up his sleeve. Before their official press gathering that would be subject to body language experts and general speculation, Air Force One made an unofficial stop in the Russian countryside for an actual discussion away from the media frenzy.
“Are you sure you want to do this Mr. President?” asked SS#1. “We’re practically naked out here in the middle of the Soviet Union.”
The President smiled, “It’s called Russia now hoss, you better catch up on modern geography. Seriously though, I don’t believe Mr. Putin wants to start WWIII…or IV or whatever it is we’re up to now.”
“The Cold war was III, the current Information war is IV, and I'm not worried about Putin as much as his dissent out here in the wild east.” SS#1 wore no smile. “The Cossacks didn’t just disappear, you know.”
“Well, I’m willing to trust my man Vlad with that. He’s been around awhile, and he understands the virtues of more options.” The sound of aircraft resonated through their feet. On the horizon, three massive helicopters appeared moving slowly toward them.
SS#1 checked his mic: “All right guys, the golden goose is a sitting duck on the pond, so be on high alert and ready for immediate evac.” The helicopters touched down a thousand feet from them. Several troops formed a double line from the center chopper. Putin marched out.
The secret service formed an arc behind the President. “Hold your position boys. All eyes on the goose. Be prepared for anything.”
The President walked forward with his interpreter, as did Putin with his. WOW, thought the president, it’s go-time. They shook hands and met each other’s gaze, neither looking away. After some quick introductions, and an understanding that the interpreters would help guide the conversation with accurate translations (as objective as possible) by double checking each other, the President opened up first.
“Mr. Putin, I’m in a bit of a bind with the current US government. The status quo has me nailed down for it’s agenda, but I’m doing my best to work with them. The Republicans are running me around with their obstruction, but I’m letting them for now. The American people are fed up and subject to propaganda of all kinds, but I’m trying to fight for them too. All in all, it’s a lot of work, but I’m learning.” The Russian translator spoke in Putin’s ear, while the other nodded along, listening for inaccuracies of any kind.
He continued, “I’m gonna shoot you straight.” The Russian translator paused, unsure of what to say. “Whoops,” the president’s translator quickly filtered his metaphor. “Sorry about that. I mean to say, I know your leaders have been lied to by our leaders many times in the past, but I’m here to level with you. I’d like to work with you in a way that helps both of us and our countries.”
Putin uttered one word. The president’s translator asked, “how?”
“I’m going to suggest war with Syria using their chemical weapons cache and crimes against their own people as precedent.” Both translator’s eyes widened. The translation continued.
“I will then attempt to enlist my government and any in Europe that want in on the action so we can go in there and take out a corrupt regime.”
Putin’s poker face showed nothing, but he listened.
“My strategy is this: if I clang the bells of war, I’ll be pre-empting all of the war mongers in congress, most of whom don’t like me. This will force them to choose to support me and go against their party policy or fight me and look like hypocrites. Likewise, the American people will be equally divided, but all-in-all, those in favor of war will be far less, and those against war will make a mighty noise. Furthermore, my own soldiers will come ‘out of the closet’ with a massive opposition to any more war in the middle east. The only people in favor of this kind of action will be the status quo, so it’ll look like I’m aiding and abetting their agenda, but that in itself will expose them to the public…and then here’s where you come in.”
Putin smirked.
“I want you go on record that we should not go to war, but open up talks with the Syrians to avoid any more bloodshed. Why? Your history of human rights violations will be forgiven by many, my people will realize how much they have in common with you and your people, my government will be caught in the middle trying to figure out whom to support without pissing off their task masters and the Syrian government will have to work with both of us to avoid being ousted from power. But most importantly: I will ‘agree’ with you, and the fear of war will be subverted by an agreement to work together for peace instead of violence.”
As the translator continued, Putin’s smirk faded.
“The press will call me a hypocrite, a liar, a puppet. They will say you ‘owned’ me or I caved, but in the end, there will be no war, and you will ‘help’ me achieve it.” The president paused. “I offer this plan with the utmost respect for you, your people and the rest of the world, in hopes that we can all get along and stopped being sidetracked by the corporate interests who profit from war. I’d really like to see this happen in my lifetime. Does this sound interesting to you?”
When the translator finished, Putin took a big breath and exhaled through clenched teeth. “Da.”
this would be great. use your enemies strength against them.
ReplyDeleteWe can only hope.
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