Power and Empire

“But in all seriousness,” Adler said, “it’s a brave new world out there. Everyone with a smartphone is an on-the-scene reporter. The Communist Party of China has worked very hard to gain back the hearts of the population after President Wei lost control and killed himself before he could be arrested. They’re doing that by whipping up a nationalist fervor. Xinhua is running multiple stories this morning about the ‘illegal encroachment’ of American warships into their waters over which China has ‘indisputable sovereignty’—complete with photographs of the San Antonio that were presumably taken from the Chinese guided missile frigate.”

Mary Pat raised her pen and conceded the secretary of state’s point. “Weibo is abuzz with nationalist fervor.”

Ryan mulled that over but said nothing. State controlled, Xinhua News ran nothing that was not filtered and approved by the Communist Party. Weibo was the microblogging site that was the Chinese answer to Twitter.

DCIA Jay Canfield added, “There are more than a few folks in the micro-blogosphere calling our actions nothing less than an act of war.”

“That’s not unusual,” Burgess said. “Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent of those buzzing voices are, no doubt, spewing forth from columns of Terra Byta warriors marching in lockstep in some information warfare battalion or 50 Cent Army in a Beijing warehouse — or working directly for the Ministry of State Security. In any case, this nationalism is likely voiced by the same government propaganda machine that submits stories to Xinhua. As you just pointed out, it wasn’t too long ago that a large part of the PRC’s population was so fed up with the Communist Party that they threatened to storm the Zhongnanhai and drag their bastard leaders to the guillotine.”

Mary Pat raised an eyebrow. “The guillotine?”

Burgess shrugged but held his ground. “The sword, the firing squad… You know what I mean.”

Ryan sighed. “President Zhao’s relatively new, but my read is that he’s made of much tougher stuff than Wei ever was. He’s a princeling — and with that comes a certain amount of old-guard support among the Central Committee. He appears to be using that support to gobble up power like Pac-Man, all while he sees to the rebuilding of national pride along with the thousands of acres of new islands in the SCS. People can be fed up with the party and still have a hell of a lot of contempt for us.”

“True enough,” the secretary of state said. “I’m just saying that it’s one thing for the party to know you mean business, but the broad media coverage of our warship sailing through what the average Chinese citizen views as their waters could force President Zhao to respond. He can’t afford to appear to be letting his power slip. As Bob says, Zhongnanhai leadership knows all too well what happens if the masses smell blood in the water. I’m in no way suggesting that Freedom of Navigation exercises are a bad thing. But the optics are something to be aware of.”

“Interesting stuff,” Ryan said. “But nothing here is surprising. Maybe this FONOP will be nothing more than a little bump under the tires of our week.”

Mary Pat scoffed. “I’m sorry, sir,” she said, “but did I ever tell you about the tiny little tick bite that put me in the hospital for a week when I was ten years old?” She pulled back the collar of her silk blouse to reveal a dime-sized scar on her neck. “Sometimes it’s the little things that scare me the most.”

“There’s that old Chinese curse,” Burgess said. “May you live in interesting times.”

Ryan sat back in his chair. “I think Bobby Kennedy just made that one up.”

Burgess started to add something, but Ryan said, “Optics noted.” He was ready to move on. “Scott, put together the usual statement reiterating our position that the U.S. Navy and U.S. merchant ships have been operating freely in the South China Sea for many decades — and we don’t intend to leave anytime soon. Note that LCS San Antonio was on an innocent and routine mission to visit our friends in Thailand. And have someone leak informally to the Chinese ambassador that I’m pretty pissed about the way they hid behind a bunch of innocent fishermen and put them in danger.”

Adler made a note in his folio. “Yes, Mr. President.”

Ryan looked at the DNI. Her lips were pursed in thought, eyes twinkling and narrow. They’d worked together long enough that he knew when she was chewing on something that might interest him.

He prodded. “What is it, Mary Pat?”

She gave an almost imperceptible nod, as if still working through a thought.