In High Places

It was Arthur Lexington who interposed quietly, 'Whatever the motives, Mr President, it isn't a slight matter to abandon independence and change the course of history overnight.'

'Nevertheless,' the President observed, 'the course of history will change whether we direct its course or not. Borders are not immutable, Arthur; nor have they ever been in human history. Every border that we know will change or disappear in time, and so will our own and Canada's, whether we hasten the process or not. Nations may last a century or two, or even more; but in the end there's no forever.'

'I agree with you. there.' Lexington smiled faintly. He put down the drink he had been holding. 'But will everyone else?'

'No, not everyone.' The President shook his head. 'Patriots – the ardent ones, at least – have short-term minds. But others – if it's put to them plainly – will face facts when they have to.'

'Perhaps they may in time,' James Howden said. 'But as you point out, Tyler – and I agree – time is the one commodity we lack.'

'In that case, Jim, I'd like to hear what you suggest.' The moment had come. This was the time, Howden thought, for plain, hard dealing. Here was the crucial point at which Canada's future – if one existed – would be determined. True, even if broad agreement were reached now, there would be more negotiating later on, and specifics – many specifics and infinite detail – would have to be hammered out by experts on both sides. But that would come afterwards. The big broad issues, the major concessions – if any were to be swung -would be determined here and now between the President and himself.

It was quiet in the oval room. There were no longer noises of traffic or children outside – perhaps the wind had changed; and the typewriter had stopped. Arthur Lexington shifted position on the sofa; beside him Admiral Rapoport remained still – as he had from the beginning – as if lashed in place. The President's chair creaked as he swung it slightly, his eyes troubled and questioning across the desk, fixed on the Prime Minister's hawklike, brooding face. We are merely four men, Howden thought… ordinary mortal men, of flesh and blood, who will die soon and be forgotten… and yet, what we decide today will affect the world for centuries to come.

For a moment, as the silence hung, James Howden's mind was torn with indecision. Now that reality had come, doubt -as earlier – assailed him. A sense of history wrestled with a sane appraisal of known facts. Was his presence here, by its very nature, a betrayal of his own country? Was practicality -which had brought him to Washington – a matter for shame and not a virtue? There were spectres he had already faced, fears he had allayed. But now they arose, fresh and challenging again.

Then he reasoned, as he had in the days past, that the course of human history had shown national pride – the inflexible kind – to be mankind's worst enemy, and ordinary people paid the price in suffering. Nations had gone down because of vainglory, when moderation might have civilized and saved them. Canada, he was determined, should not go down.

'If this is to be done,' James Howden said, 'I shall need a mandate from our own voters. That means I must fight an election – and win.'

'I'd expected that,' the President said. 'Will it be soon?'

'Tentatively I'd say early June.'

The other nodded. 'I don't see how you could do it faster.'

'It will be a short campaign,' Howden pointed out, 'and we'll have strong opposition. Therefore I must have specific things to offer.'

Arthur Lexington put in, 'I'm sure, Mr President, that as a practical politician yourself, you'll see how necessary that is.'

The President grinned broadly. 'I'm almost afraid to agree for fear you fellows will hold me to ransom. So let me say: yes, I'm sure you'll get hell from your Opposition, but after all that's no novelty for any of us here. You'll win, though, Jim;

I'm sure of it. But as to the other – yes, I do see.'

'There are a number of points,' Howden said.

The President leaned back in his swivel chair. 'Shoot! '

'Canadian industry and employment must be safeguarded after the Act of Union.' Howden's voice was clear, his tone emphatic. He was no supplicant, he took pains to make clear, but an equal discussing equalities. 'United States investment and manufacturing in Canada must continue and expand. We don't want General Motors moving out because of customs union, consolidating with Detroit; or Ford with Dearborn. The same thing goes for smaller industry.'

'I agree,' the President said. He toyed with a pencil upon the desk. 'Industrial weakness would be a disadvantage all round. Something can be worked out, and I'd say you'll get more industry, not less.'

'A specific guarantee?'

The President nodded. 'A specific guarantee. Our Commerce Department and your Trade and Finance people can devise a tax incentive formula.' Both Admiral Rapoport and Arthur Lexington were making notes on pads beside them.

Howden got up from the chair facing the President's, took a turn away, then back. 'Raw materials,' he announced, 'Canada will control withdrawal permits and we want a guarantee against plundering. There's to be no bonanza for Americans -taking everything out for processing elsewhere.'

Admiral Rapoport said sharply, 'You've been ready enough to sell your raw resources in the past – if the price was high.'

'That's the past,' Howden snapped. 'We're discussing the future.' He was beginning to understand why dislike of the presidential assistant was so widespread.

'Never mind,' the President interceded. 'There should be more secondary manufacturing on the spot and it will help both countries. Next!'

'Defence contracts and foreign-aid buying,' Howden said. 'Canada will want some major manufacturing – aircraft and missiles, not just screws and bolts.'

The President sighed. 'There'll be hell to pay from our own lobbies. But somehow we'll do it.' More notes.

'I'll want one of my own cabinet ministers here in the White House,' Howden said. He had seated himself again. 'Someone who can be close to you to interpret both our points of view.'

'I'd planned to offer you something of the kind,' the President observed. 'What else do you have?'

'Wheat!' the Prime Minister announced. 'Your own exports and giveaways have taken over what were once our markets. What's more, Canada can't compete with production subsidized on your scale.'

The President glanced at Admiral Rapoport who thought briefly, then stated, 'We could give a no-interference guarantee, I suppose, affecting Canadian commercial sales, and ensure that the Canadian surplus – up to last year's figures – is sold first.'

'Well?' The President cocked a quizzical eyebrow at Howden.

The Prime Minister took his time about answering. Then he said carefully, 'I'd prefer to accept the first part of the deal and leave the second to negotiation. If your production increases, so should ours, with matching guarantees.'

With a trace of coolness the President asked, 'Aren't you pressing a little, Jim?'

'I don't think so.' Howden met the other's eyes directly. He had no intention of conceding yet. Besides, his biggest demand was still to come.

There was a pause, then the President nodded. 'Very well -negotiation.'

They continued to talk – of trade, industry, employment, foreign relations, consular activities, foreign exchange, domestic economics, authority of Canadian civil courts over US forces… In each instance the concessions the Prime Minister sought were granted, sometimes with minor modifications, in some cases after discussion, but mostly with none. It was not surprising really, Howden thought. Obviously there had been anticipation of most of the things he asked and the President had entered their parley prepared for speed and action.