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“Not a chance. The Brits have cut back some, but any more sanctions aimed at Pretoria are going to have to be their own idea. The EEC’s been all over them for years, and they’ve never been able to influence London. Besides, the UK’s backed us too many times in some real tight spots. You don’t twist your best friend’s arm. I’d get killed in the full committee if I tried to push a bill like that.”

Blackman looked up from his legal pad, his pen tapping rhythmically against his lower front teeth.

“How about direct financial support for the ANC or some of the other black opposition groups?”

The other lawyer, a recent Harvard graduate named Harrison Alvarez, laughed cynically.

“Jesus, the Republicans would love that.”

He mimicked the hushed, breathless tones so common in campaign hit pieces:

“Did you know that Senator Travers supports U.S. taxpayer funding for a terrorist movement with socialist aims?”

Alvarez gestured toward a stack of press clippings on Travers’s desk.

“I

mean, Ken, get real. The ANC just killed half the South African government, for Christ’s sake!”

“They deny responsibility,” Blackman retorted.

“You better believe it, after all the heat they’ve taken lately.” Travers shook his head slowly.

“Let’s face facts. The ANC is the prime suspect in the attack on Haymans’s train. Now, I wouldn’t put it past a thug like

Vorster to manufacture black guerrilla bodies on demand, but why should he need to?”

He shrugged his shoulders, as if admitting that his own question was unanswerable.

“Besides, even if the ANC’s not responsible for the train massacre, the Republicans would still beat us over the head with it. We have to hold the high ground on this issue-call for popular actions while the administration refuses to move. Feeding money to guys with AK-47s isn’t going to cut it.”

The others muttered their agreement.

Blackman started pacing again.

“Okay, if we can’t affect the South Africans themselves, how about doing something to ease their stranglehold on their next-door neighbors?”

“Like what?” Travers sounded tentative.

Blackman persisted.

“A large-scale aid program for all the countries bordering South Africa. Economic assistance, maybe even military help.”

Lewin stepped in, eager to score a few more points at his rival’s expense.

“We’d still be giving aid to Marxist governments. The Republicans-“in this day and age being a Marxist isn’t a crime. It’s just stupid,”

Perlman cut in. He looked thoughtful.

“It’s a good dynamic. All of those countries are dirt-poor. Even if their governments are corrupt or Marxist or both, we can still show real need.”

He grinned at Travers.

“Yeah, Steve, I can see your speeches now. The

Republicans, using ‘petty politics’ to decide whether or not kids get the food they need. We could do a lot with that. “

Blackman looked faintly disgusted. The senator’s friend and longtime advisor always saw everything through a tightly focused political lens.

Sometimes it seemed that simple right and wrong escaped his notice.

And Blackman was sure that expanded aid to the front line states was right. South Africa had kept its neighbors weak and poor for far too long-locked into total dependence on the white regime’s industries, transportation system, and power supply. U.S. assistance that reduced that state of helplessness would be the surest way to strike at the Vorster government.

Alvarez looked less certain.

“And how much of any money we send over there is really going to get past these corrupt governments?”

“Who cares?” Travers shrugged.

“Once we’ve passed the dollars on to them, it’s out of our hands. We can find some villages where they’re unloading bags of food, or building roads. We’ll make a trip there, take some dramatic pictures. Should be good for a few TV spots. ” He winked at

Perlman,

Blackman ignored the crasser political implications. They were a necessary part of working in Washington.

“I’d suggest going to

Mozambique. They’ve been trying to build that railroad through to

Zimbabwe for years, but South Africa’s pet guerrilla force, Renamo, keeps blowing it up. If we could help Mozambique finish that rail line

.. .

Travers rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Yeah. I like it.” He sat back in his chair and gazed up at the ceiling.

“You know the more I think about this the more I like it. ” He rocked forward.

“Here’s what I see. We put together a good sized package of civilian and military aid for the front line states, focusing on areas hit by South African-backed insurgencies. Say a five or six hundred million dollars’ worth. Enough to really sting Pretoria. I think I can get something like that through the committee without too much trouble. “

Lewin frowned.

“The Appropriations Committee’s going to be the big stumbling block. Where do we get the money?”

Travers grinned.

“Simple. We reprogram the bucks out of the defense budget. Hell, the administration’s already done that for Nicaragua and

Panama. They’ve set the precedent. We’ll just follow their lead.”

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