MARION ELLMAN DIDN’T know that Bob Livingstone was meeting with the Chinese ambassador in Washington. She had her own meeting arranged with a different ambassador from Beijing.
It was her idea to have lunch with Liu. She had met the Chinese ambassador to the UN numerous times, both formally and in informal encounters in the UN corridors, but in the nineteen months since she had taken up her post she had never sat down with him for a private, open-ended discussion. By all accounts he was an affable character and most people who knew him liked him. Prior to the Uganda resolution their dealings had been cordial. Marion thought it was probably a good idea to make sure they were still on that footing.
Besides, there was an issue she wanted to talk to him about.
They had lunch in one of the rooms of the US mission in New York. The aide who organized it had arranged for Tex Mex to be served. According to their information, that was the Chinese ambassador’s favorite.
Liu was a short, dapper man. Ellman towered over him as she greeted him.
‘I thought we could just talk over some stuff,’ she said after they sat down. ‘In a personal capacity.’
‘Yes,’ said Liu. ‘That sounds like a good idea.’
Ellman smiled. There was a knock on the door and two serving staff came in. Liu watched as a dish of chilli con carne was set down and chicken fajitas were placed on the table.
‘I see your intelligence services have been at work, Ambassador,’ he remarked wryly.
Ellman laughed. ‘I hope they got it right, otherwise I’m going to feel an awful fool.’
‘No, they’ve done a very good job.’
One of the waiters put a Coke in front of the ambassador.
‘A very good job. I appreciate this, Ambassador. My only reservation in coming here was the thought that I would have to eat a Chinese banquet.’
‘Call me Marion, please.’
‘Yes. And call me Simon.’
‘Simon. Good.’
The waiters left.
‘Start, please.’ Ellman herself took a taco to get things going.
Liu took a fajita. ‘I love these,’ he said. ‘Just like Peking duck.’
Ellman smiled.
‘There is no Peking duck in Beijing. Only in the west.’
‘Really? There’s no chilli con carne in Mexico either. Only in Texas.’
‘Strange how we attribute to others the things we wish they had,’ said Liu, and took a bite of his fajita.
Ellman nodded. She had heard that Liu could be somewhat of a philosopher when the mood took him.
‘Is it okay? My kids love this stuff.’
‘And you don’t?’ Liu looked at her in dismay. ‘Please don’t tell me I’m forcing you to eat this because of me.’
Ellman laughed. ‘No, I like it too. But my kids love it. Their father feeds it to them all the time. I’ve got two, Ella and Ben. They’re nine and four.’
‘I have one,’ said Liu. ‘I would have liked to have another. He is now in the Ministry of Security.’
‘Really?’
Liu raised an eyebrow rogueishly. ‘I cannot tell you anything of what he does, in case that is why you have asked me here.’
‘I’ll let you off this time,’ said Ellman.
Liu laughed. ‘Very good.’
They ate. There was a little more small talk. Liu was proving just as charming as everyone said he was. But he was waiting, Ellman knew, for what this really was about.
‘Let’s talk about South Africa,’ she said.
Liu nodded, taking another bite out of his fajita.
‘What are we going to do?’
The Chinese ambassador frowned. He raised his napkin and dabbed at his lips, then put the napkin down again.
In June of that year, South Africa’s ANC government had imposed a state of emergency when it became convinced that it was going to lose the upcoming election. Citing unrest in KwaZulu Natal as a pretext, it invoked the clause of the post-apartheid constitution allowing for a state of emergency in event of insurrection and clamped down hard. Now, four months later, the date for the elections had come and gone, police brutality was turning the unrest in KwaZulu Natal into something approaching the insurrection that the government had originally pretended was taking place, and with every passing week it looked as if the ANC seizure of the state was going from temporary to permanent.
In the early days after the announcement of the state of emergency the Security Council had managed to get unanimous agreement on a non-binding resolution ‘expressing the hope’ that South Africa would ‘speedily’ resume its normal constitutional path and that free and fair elections would be held on the scheduled date. That had about as much effect as most Security Council resolutions. Continuing to remain silent now would be tantamount to a tacit acceptance of the status quo and a virtual imprimatur from the international community for the transition of South Africa to one-party autocracy. The British government was pushing the case for a new, hard-hitting resolution demanding the immediate restoration of constitutional rule and holding of free, internationally monitored elections within three months, proposed under Chapter VII of the Security Council, which would open the path to sanctions if the ANC refused to agree. The US and France were backing it. Whether such a resolution would pass without a veto from Russia or China was extremely doubtful. Both countries had invoked constitutionally sanctioned states of emergency in various parts of their countries in recent years. And China, of course, was a one-party autocracy, which was what the ANC was in the process of creating. Russia was just about one, hidden behind a thin veil of spasmodic democracy.
The British push for a resolution was intensifying. Sir Antony Seale, their UN ambassador, had been on the phone to Marion three times in the past week, and had twice cornered her after meetings. Ellman was aware that there was domestic pressure in the UK, which had been active in leading the anti-apartheid movement thirty years earlier, to see concrete steps taken. The British labor prime minister was coming under attack from within his own party. He had to be seen to be acting.
Marion wanted action as well. What was happening in South Africa broke her heart. At sixteen years old, a schoolgirl in Philadelphia, she had watched pictures of Mandela walking free and would never forget the emotion of that day. Four years later, in her junior year at Georgetown, she had watched pictures of the queues of people lining up to vote in the first free election in South Africa’s history and her heart had filled with emotion once more. Now she didn’t know whether she’d ever see such pictures from South Africa again.
And yet the resolution the Brits had drafted had about as much chance of success as had her attempts to build a coalition for Uganda. They had circulated the draft to all the members of the Security Council. Nothing had come back from the Russians or the Chinese. The French ambassador had told her that his government believed they should push ahead anyway, despite the certainty of defeat, if nothing else at least to preserve the moral authority of the Council, or at least of themselves. But the moral authority of a few members of the Security Council, however well preserved, wasn’t going to bring democracy back to South Africa.
It put her in despair. The longer the state of emergency went on, Marion knew, the more fixed it would become. Reversal would be increasingly difficult. She could see the dark path ahead unless something could be done to prevent it, years of rhetoric and sporadic pressure from outside the country, violence and suppression within it. It made her wonder what she was doing here at the UN, what any of them were doing here, if they couldn’t stop it.
Liu cleared his throat.
‘This is a difficult situation in South Africa,’ he said. ‘China does not feel that it should impose a political system on any other country. You know our principle of non-interference. That has always been our position. We ourselves ask to be left alone, and therefore how can we say that others should not be left alone? I think that is maybe a difference between us.’
‘But South Africa already has a system,’ said Ellman. ‘We’re not trying to impose it. What you’ve got is a group within that country who are subverting it.’
‘That’s true.’
‘All we’re saying to them is, respect your system. Put your system back in place.’
‘The old revolutionaries would say, systems sometimes must change.’ Liu smiled his mischievous smile and took a bite out of his fajita.
Marion smiled as well. That line would get a laugh even in China. Then she was serious again. ‘We have to do something. This isn’t like … with respect, Simon, this isn’t the same as China. By doing something about this we’re not saying anything about China.’
Liu frowned. But she could see he was listening as he ate.
‘There’s no comparison with China. The South African government isn’t one that has done a great job for its country and has boosted its living standards and has developed its potential as a power on the world stage. Or even as a regional power. Speaking completely personally, if it was the Singapore of Africa you might say, okay, maybe the one-party thing might work. For a time. But it isn’t like that. The ANC is a corrupt party, it’s increasingly brutal, and it’s taken all the huge potential of South Africa and turned it into a basket case. And that’s when it
had
, theoretically, the risk of being kicked out in democratic elections. How much worse is it going to be when it doesn’t face that risk?’
‘So you’re saying there’s none of your American ideology behind what you’re suggesting.’
Marion shrugged. ‘Sure there is. Of course there is. I think personally, and all of America thinks everyone has the right to democracy. But I’m saying, in this case, we can make an argument on pragmatic grounds even without that. And I’m saying if we all stick to the pragmatic argument, if we say, this is not a party that has served South Africa well, this is not a party that should govern unquestioned, then I think we can all come together with a demand that this party should face the people and the people should have a right to find someone to do things better. We can make this a pragmatic argument, Simon, not an ideological one, and by doing that, if we stick strictly to that and stay away from the ideology, we can all work together to restore South Africa to its own constitution.’
Marion took a bite of a taco as she waited for Liu to respond.
‘Pragmatics have ideological implications,’ he said eventually.
‘But it is a pragmatic argument, isn’t it? They’re a terrible government. South Africa deserves better.’
Liu smiled. ‘That’s true. They are a terrible government.’
‘So let’s help put that poor country out of its misery. We stood by for years while Zimbabwe was almost done to death by a one-party dictator. Surely we’re not going to do it again.’
Liu was silent for a moment. ‘We don’t want this either. That’s why we supported the first resolution. We don’t think this is good for South Africa. We don’t think it’s good for China.’
‘So you would support the kind of resolution Britain is proposing?’
Liu grimaced a little.
‘Have you looked at the British text?’
‘Marion, the text is ridiculous.’
‘Then work with us on an alternative. Join us in a resolution that mandates sanctions. Let’s do it ourselves. Forget the British. We could word it so it’s not ideological. Simon, I don’t think the Council can be silent on this. I don’t think the United States can do nothing, or at least not try to do something.’
‘China does not think a resolution is the best way.’
‘Then what is?’
‘Give us some time to work with the government of South Africa.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘We have influence there.’
Marion watched him. China’s penetration of the South African economy was extensive. It had funded widespread mineral exploration through partnerships with South African businesses, many connected with corrupt officials high in the ANC. According to intelligence reports that Marion had seen, the Chinese government was now trying to broker the political crisis in South Africa by persuading the ANC to bring a token opposition presence into a national unity government that in effect would keep the ANC in power. Then there would be some kind of rigged election that would return the ANC and they would be able to say the constitution had been reinstated. The Chinese saw it as their chance to establish themselves as the ANC’s protector, which would guarantee them preferred access to the country’s mineral resources. Liu’s plea for time sounded as if it was designed to allow them to finish the job.
‘The British are nothing but an old colonial power,’ said Liu. ‘What they say carries no weight. In fact, it has the opposite effect. By associating yourselves with the British, you lose credibility in South Africa. Only economic clout carries weight. Give us some time to work with the South Africa government. Talk to the British and tell them to slow down. Put some pressure on them.’
‘I don’t think that’s going to work,’ said Marion.
Liu nodded. He smiled for a moment. ‘What is happening in Uganda?’ he asked.
Marion looked at him carefully. Was he trying to draw a connection between the two issues? What was he suggesting? That China would trade one for the other? Or was he just being polite, changing the subject when it seemed they were at an impasse that threatened the congenial spirit in which they had sat down together?
‘It’s going fine, to the best of my knowledge.’
‘Good.’
There was silence.
‘Why don’t you join us?’ said Marion suddenly.
Liu looked at her uncomprehendingly.
‘In Uganda. Why don’t you come be part of the operation?’
Liu smiled. ‘This is not your government speaking. This, I’m sure, is you speaking personally, Marion.’
‘Why don’t you? Put some of your guys in with ours. Let’s make it a joint mission. Why don’t we talk about it? What can be controversial about getting rid of the LRA?’
Liu laughed.
‘You think it’s a crazy idea?’
‘Personally, I think it’s wonderful. If you and I could agree it in this room, Marion …’ he clicked his fingers, ‘I would do it now.’
‘Just think about what the effect would be. Just think what a statement it would make.’