Dragon Strike -- A Novel of the Coming War with China (Future History Book 1)

by Humphrey Hawksley

  The FT-SE 100 share index shed 136 points to 6,347 and Wall Street was faring no better. The Dow Jones Industrial Average had sailed through the 8,000 barrier in January but on Monday morning it opened 300 points lower at 7,838. The rise in the oil price and the prospect of higher inflation and interest rates unnerved an already uneasy Wall Street. In the executive suites of corporate America, anxiety was growing. Reece Overhalt for one knew that that China's actions presaged ill for Boeing. The company's move into China was deeply unpopular with sections of the Boeing workforce, and the International Association of Machinists, Boeing's main union, was bound to exploit it.

  The House of Commons, London

  Local time: 1530 Monday 19 February 2001

  Mr Stephenson, the Prime Minister:... That, Mr Speaker, is the situation as it stands right now. As I said, the Chinese have continued to attack Vietnam. There are civilian casualties, including Europeans and Americans. We do not have specific information about British subjects. We are hoping therefore that British casualties are slight. I have talked personally to my American and European colleagues and we have decided that nationals being detained on oil rigs captured by Chinese troops should be regarded as hostages, although we do not believe they are in any danger. No demands have been made for their release. We believe the Chinese are facing a logistical problem in getting them to a place where they could be freed.

  Mr Andrew Dixon, Leader of the Opposition: While thanking the Prime Minister for his statement, I remain confused about his government's policy. I have heard no condemnation of the Chinese action. I see no indication that we will support Vietnam, as the French have done. I see no moral stand upholding the democratic principles which once made this country great. So could the Prime Minister, before the House, tell us whose side he is on in this conflict, and will he condemn the violence of a non-democratic, one-party state against that of new Asian democracy?

  Mr Stephenson, the Prime Minister: Clearly the right honourable gentleman is unused to the responsibility of government. I understand that and should he come and sit on this side of the House, he would realize that glib comments and cheap political point-scoring are more often than not against the national interest. Often ministers must put aside their personal views and consider the wider issues. Long gone are the days when Britain sent expeditionary forces all over the world. Could he tell us if his party would support risking the lives of British servicemen in an area of the world where we have no substantive national interest and no substantive treaty obligation to the nation coming under attack? Could he tell us if he advises taking action against China which could throw British people onto the dole queues with little prospect of finding new employment? Could he not agree for once, instead of chirping like an untrained parrot, that it is right for Britain to wait and assess the South China Sea crisis and only then, after talking to our allies, to formulate a policy which could well dictate the global geopolitical structure for the next fifty years?

  Mr Andrew Dixon, Leader of the Opposition: Then tell us, yes or no, whether you support the French action?

  Mr Stephenson, the Prime Minister: France has treaty obligations towards Vietnam. I support governments who honour their treaty obligations.

  Mr George Cranby: In order to silence the Opposition benches and bring some national consensus to bear with this problem, could my right honourable friend tell us with which countries in the Far East do we have treaty obligations and in what way do we plan to honour them?

  Mr Stephenson, the Prime Minister: We have long-standing arrangements with Malaysia, Singapore, and Brunei. Through the 1984 joint declaration with Hong Kong we have responsibility to ensure that the Chinese military campaign does not interfere with the Special Administrative Region in any way whatsoever. We also have military contractual arrangements with Indonesia and Malaysia which are included in the sale of aircraft and other equipment. We plan to honour all our commitments when and if we are asked to do so. So far no requests have come across my desk.

  Sir George Fallon: The government has known for many years the nature of the Chinese government. It is a ruthless and repressive dictatorship which is no different from Saddam Hussein's Iraq, Gaddaffi's Libya, or Hitler's Germany. Frankly, I am appalled when the Prime Minister tells us that British jobs are dependent on doing deals with such a disgusting regime. Would we have let the Nazis across the white cliffs of Dover because BMW owned Rover? We on this side of the House have warned against your policy of `economic interdependence' with China and `constructive engagement'. Could the Prime Minister now tell us that his policy has been shamefully and morally wrong and that no more secret deals will be done with the regime in Peking?

  Mr Stephenson, the Prime Minister: No.

  Mr Fred Clarke: Could my right honourable friend assure us that he is not simply waiting for the telephone to ring to receive instructions from either Germany or the United States as to what path to pursue and that he will continue to ensure that Britain will safeguard its own national interests with its own policies in this most crucial time in world affairs?

  Mr Stephenson, the Prime Minister: Britain will and always has followed its own path in foreign policy consultation with our allies. Nothing has changed in the past twenty-four hours to change that.

  Ms Clare Truman: Then could the Prime Minister explain this to the House: if we honour our contractual arrangements to the authoritarian governments of Indonesia and Malaysia, because of our weapons sales to them, how can we bring pressure to bear on the Russians who as we speak are supplying hundreds of military advisers and tons of equipment to ensure that the Chinese war effort continues to be a success? And with that problem unsolved, Mr Speaker, could the Prime Minister tell us whether he welcomes a Newer World Order with a nuclear, non-democratic, expansionist China as the rising military superpower?

  Mr Stephenson, the Prime Minister: I refer the honourable lady to the answer I made a few moments ago.

  The White House, Washington, DC

  Local time : 1030 Monday 19 February 2001

  GMT: 1530 Monday 19 February 2001

  President Bradlay's Private Secretary alerted him to the incoming call from Japanese Prime Minister, Noburo Hyashi. The two were not close, in spite of Hyashi's more than passable command of English. They had crossed swords in the mid-1990s, when after the collapse of the Liberal Democratic Party Hyashi had made a push for prominence on a veiled nationalist ticket that was implicitly hostile to the US. Bradlay was an up and coming senator who had sought to project himself as someone with a deep understanding of international affairs.

  `Mr President,' Hyashi intoned.

  `Nobby, is that you?' Bradlay replied.

  `Yes, Jim, it's me.'

  `And how's Mitsuko? I trust she's well?'

  `Yes, Jim, she is just fine. And the First Lady?'

  `Fine, fine. You've got a bit of a problem in the South China Sea over there . . .'

  `We have a problem, Jim, and that's the reason for this call. Have you learned of the catastrophe with the Philippine Marines on Mischief Reef? My cabinet colleagues and I feel that we must invoke our security treaty. We need a combined show of force here to demonstrate to the Chinese that they have gone far enough.'

  `We certainly need to do something, Nobby, I agree with that. This morning in New York we will be calling upon the Security Council to censure China and demand that it withdraw from the Spratlys and Paracels and compensate Vietnam for the loss of life and equipment over the past two days.'

  `As you Americans would say to chance. The Chinese will use their veto to quash any such resolution. I think we need something firmer than just mere words. The French have sent troops to Vietnam.'

  `We have been down that route before, Nobby. The American people have little appetite these days for foreign wars, let alone wars in that particular part of Asia.'

  Bradlay returned the receiver of his secure telephone to its cradle. Hyashi had a point, but so too did the Washington Post's latest poll. Its polling agency
had pulled out all the stops on Saturday night, with a telephone survey of opinions about the Chinese seizure of the South China Sea and what, if anything, the US should do about it. A thumping 79 per cent of Americans, or at least 79 per cent of the 1,036 randomly selected Americans, thought the US should have no part of it. Moreover, an analysis of past crises and their effects on presidential popularity underlined the mixed nature of such events, from a domestic political point of view.

  The piece pointed out that international crises historically tended to improve presidential standing. In three quarters of the cases studied from the 1940s to the 1980s, presidents received boosts in popularity in the month following international incidents. The President's approval ratings rose 5 points after the CIA-backed invasion of Cuba at the Bay of Pigs in 1961, even though the operation failed. Lyndon Johnson's popularity went up after the 1965 invasion of the Dominican Republic; Gerald Ford's improved 11 points after the 1975 Mayaguez incident in which a US merchant vessel was seized by Cambodia; Ronald Reagan's approval ratings went up 5 points after the 1983 US invasion of Grenada; and George Bush's increased 14 points after he announced the Persian Gulf military build-up in 1990 and another 18 points when he launched the war against Iraq in January 1991.

  So far so good. But this poll showed people saw the fight in Asia as unwinnable. There was also a racial tinge. The main body of the poll showed a rising concern about Japan and dislike for the Japanese. Anti-Japanese feelings had increased sharply in the United States. A growing majority of Americans were saying they were trying to avoid buying Japanese products. The constituency in the American heartland for risking American lives to protect Japanese interests was as thin a gruel as anyone could make. Unhappily it was a Republican, Mr Joseph Borchert, Senator for Washington state, who caught the popular mood. `The overwhelming majority of Americans do not want the United States, by itself or in concert with other nations, to interfere in Asia,' Borchert said. `There is no national security threat, no public policy reason, no excuse at all.'

  Borchert had read the national mood with uncanny accuracy. As events unfolded that Sunday it became plain that whatever constituency there might have been in favour of United States intervention was evaporating quickly. Congressional leaders would have none of it. Congressional feeling was carefully stoked by some astute media management by Bland, Michael & Judd, PR adviser and chief lobbyist for the Communist Party. With a couple of telephone calls to leading Washington and West Coast think tanks Judd pointed out that the various institutions' China experts' continued access to China might be helped if they adopted a balanced approach to the South China Sea gambit. At the same time others at the firm were making sure that talk show hosts knew the right experts from whom to seek comment. Throughout the day the White House switchboard was inundated with telephone calls, mostly from citizens opposed to any intervention. Messages via less public points of access also started arriving from the chairmen and chief executives of some of the nation's leading companies, Boeing and Microsoft in Seattle, General Motors in Detroit, Compaq in Houston, and others. By the time the President was readying himself for a public engagement that evening he had pretty well made up his mind that the US would try and stay out of the conflict and seek to play the role of `honest broker'.

  The presidential motorcade drew up outside the severely classical entrance to the National Gallery. It had been built by a banker to house his collection, which he had generously donated to the nation. I. M. Pei, the Chinese/ American architect, had designed a dramatic glass and poured-concrete extension to the main gallery but even that had failed to soften the severity of the building. The party at the National Gallery was one of those Washington events. The diplomatic corps rubbed shoulders with the cream of the Senate, the House as well as the administration. When Makoto Katayama, the Japanese Ambassador, first sighted Bradlay he was deep in conversation with the senators from Kansas and Washington state, a Long Beach, California congressman, and the chief Washington representative for Bland, Michael & Judd. With such a coalition there could be only one topic of conversation: China. These states were so enmeshed with the Chinese economy — aerospace in California and Washington, wheat in Kansas — that their representatives were sometimes referred to as the Congress's China clique. Katayama circulated as diplomats do on such occasions awaiting his opportunity to engage Bradlay.

  Just then Katayama noticed a third secretary from the Japanese embassy making his way through the crowd. At the same time a White House aide was working his way towards the President. Both officials met their objectives at the same time. Katayama listened as the embassy official told him about the UN Security Council vote. As expected the Chinese had exercised their veto. There would be no UN condemnation of China's actions in the South China Sea. What was worse, however, was how the other members of the Council had voted. A smattering of African and South Pacific nations who sat on the Council by rotation had abstained. They were beneficiaries of Chinese military aid. Britain and France were prepared to condemn the Chinese but Japan's permanent representative at the UN had observed a certain reluctance on the part of the US to embrace the toughest language put up by London and Paris. Russia had abstained. In the end, however, the US had sided with its Atlantic partners.

  As Katayama considered what he was hearing, another of Bradlay's aides approached. The President, he said, would like to talk to him. An ante-room in the museum was being prepared. When the President was due to leave he would make as if he was doing so, but stop by the anteroom on his way out. Could the Ambassador be waiting for him there? Katayama was more than pleased. He had not relished the task Tokyo had set: sounding out Bradlay at a public function.

  The meeting, having been arranged in such an ad hoc fashion, lacked the usual formality that attends a meeting between the President of the United States and the Japanese Ambassador. For a start it was held in English, a language Katayama knew frighteningly well, although he affected to be a poor student. The encounter got off to a good start with Bradlay warmly shaking Katayama by the hand, but soon deteriorated when the Ambassador pressed Bradlay on what the United States would do about China's behaviour in the South China Sea.

  `Well, Mr Ambassador, it seems as though we are back to the bad old days of the Cold War at the UN. As I think you already know, the Chinese representative vetoed a resolution at about the time we both arrived at this reception. It was no surprise to us. Indeed, we were less keen than our allies that we should attempt such a manoeuvre. China was always going to veto it.'

  `Quite,' said Katayama.

  `I spoke with the Prime Minister this morning,' Bradlay said. `I appreciate the concerns you must have.'

  That was the opening Katayama wanted. `Indeed, sir. I am asked by Tokyo to convey your assurance that the United States intends to live up to its treaty obligations.'

  The President stopped. He replied: `Well, Mr Ambassador, you know as well as I do that our mutual security treaty which has served both parties well s drawn up during the Cold War, when the threat posed by Russian and Chinese Communism was at its height. Russia has changed. China has changed. The world has changed. We must change with it. Tell your government that I give the highest priority to settling this crisis in the Pacific in a peaceful way.'

  Xiatong village, Sino-Vietnamese border

  Local time: 2330 Monday 19 February 2001

  GMT: 1530 Monday 19 February 2001

  The guerrillas looked for all the world as if they were wearing black pyjamas. On closer inspection they were armed with the deadly attributes of highly trained assassins sub-machine-gun with silencer, knives, a wire garrotte. There were eight in all and they clung to the shadows as they passed through the virtually empty streets of Xiatung, a village some 7 kilometres across into Chinese territory from the Vietnamese border. Between the jungle fringe on the outskirts of the village and their objective — the compound housing of the Party Secretary and the Head of Public Security — they had encountered only two Chinese. One, an alcoholic vagran
t, the other, a woman on her way home, were killed efficiently and cleanly, their bodies dragged deep into the shadows to hide them.

  It was nearly midnight and the moon was obscured when they came upon the compound at Huaihai Avenue where the village leadership lived. The entrance to the compound, 200 metres ahead, was guarded by one dejected-looking guard in the sloppy green uniform of the People's Liberation Army. He didn't even have time to lift his weapon to firing position before three rounds of silenced automatic gunfire ripped into his chest. They placed him inside his sentry box and moved through the open gate. Not a soul stirred. On gaining entry to the compound they spilt into two groups: one would take care of the Party Secretary and the other the Head of Public Security. They knew where the officials lived and moved with speed and economy of action towards their objectives.

  The Xiatong Daily reported that both men put up a stout fight against their assailants. The truth, however, was more prosaic. The Party Secretary, a Mr Zhou Hua, lay asleep when the guerrilla leader came into his bedroom. His wife woke first and lived long enough to see her husband die before she too was gunned down. The Head of Public Security, Mr Sun Ping, was reading when he heard a knock at his door. To his horror he admitted four Vietnamese guerrillas. The leader, speaking rough Chinese, told him to kneel. He begged for his life before it was taken.