Chapter 319: What? Me?
“Professor, I hope you go to Geneva once, as the White House’s ambassador plenipotentiary and conduct private peace talks with the Soviet side on the Vietnam War issue.”
Lin Ran was still resting in New York, and the White House side kept calling one after another.
They kept urging Lin Ran to return to Washington, saying Mr. President had something extremely urgent to discuss with him.
Lin Ran could of course guess what it was about—nothing more than the Vietnam War and the election situation.
What could make Lyndon Johnson so anxious was nothing but this; in New York, he could feel a very obvious anti-war atmosphere, almost everyone thinking this war was not just and should not continue.
With such a public opinion foundation, plus this year being an election year, the pressure on the White House was very real.
But Lin Ran never expected Lyndon Johnson’s first words to be this.
Go to Geneva for negotiations? It really left Lin Ran feeling baffled.
No, not to mention Lin Ran’s past work had nothing to do with diplomacy, sending Lin Ran to conduct diplomatic peace talks with the Soviet Union was purely an outsider doing an insider’s job.
More fatally, sending someone who most desperately wanted your Vietnam War to drag on forever to talk ceasefire? It was like putting a rat in charge of the granary; no wonder if things didn’t go well.
When Lin Ran heard it, he felt the world was a bit too crazy; Lyndon Johnson not stepping down would be doing a disservice to his own wild maneuver.
“What, me?” Lin Ran wasn’t pretending to be surprised; he really was surprised. “Mr. President, this probably isn’t appropriate.”
“No, Professor, Dobrynin privately indicated that you are the only official in the entire White House whom the Kremlin trusts.” Lyndon Johnson had no bloodshot eyes, but his dark circles were particularly obvious; the whole person was completely different from five years ago when he was sworn in on the presidential special plane.
After thinking for a moment, Lin Ran said, “You hope I play a role similar to Robert Kennedy’s?”
This was a past event: back then, when the Cuban Missile Crisis was brought to an end, the one responsible for the private negotiations was President Kennedy’s brother, then-Attorney General Robert Kennedy. The brothers bypassed Congress, the White House, and the military; Robert Kennedy acted as special envoy and negotiated with Dobrynin in a hotel in Washington D.C.
Dobrynin was the Soviet ambassador.
As for why Lin Ran knew, because V’s appearance had made the American public pay extra attention to Kennedy’s death, with all sorts of revelations emerging endlessly. Before even the 1980s, the private negotiations between Kennedy and the Soviet Union had already been leaked to the media by “insiders,” exposing almost everything.
Lin Ran was on good terms with the Hearst Group and had been mingling in Washington for years; it would be strange if he didn’t know.
Lyndon Johnson shook his head: “No, of course not. I don’t want to end up like President Kennedy. Your negotiations with the Soviet Union will absolutely be public; the White House will appoint you as ambassador plenipotentiary.
The Soviet side trusts you, and likewise, I trust you. Besides your loyalty to America, I believe even more in your ability. Besides you, no one can stop this war.”
Lyndon Johnson’s tone was full of emotion; he had also watched the son of Fred’s “Apprentice,” and Lyndon Johnson even complained to his wife that “Apprentice” would be more fittingly renamed “Clown Interview Record,” and that the red on big T’s body shouldn’t be on the tie but on the nose.
A barrage of sarcasm.
But sarcasm was sarcasm; it didn’t stop Lyndon Johnson from seriously watching the entire program.
He originally thought Lin Ran went on Fred’s son’s program to mock him, teaming up with big T to criticize the White House’s decision-making mistakes on the Vietnam War. Unexpectedly, Lin Ran actually vigorously defended him and McNamara on the program. Of course, Lyndon Johnson felt the defense of him was enough; McNamara really couldn’t shake off the blame.
In short, Lyndon Johnson felt he had been too petty in the past, and Professor was a great good person, loyal! Honest!
This was also one of the reasons that prompted him to feel Lin Ran could indeed go to Geneva for negotiations; others might not succeed, but maybe the professor could?
At the same time, this was the ripple effect of Kosygin failing to hold the Gettysburg meeting with Lyndon Johnson, because the agreed Gettysburg negotiations didn’t happen, Rusk visited Yanjing, all of which caused further distrust of Washington by the Kremlin.
Later, his wife’s words woke him up: “If even the professor can’t negotiate, then replacing him with someone else would be even less likely.”
This made Lyndon Johnson resolute.
Because Lin Ran’s duties didn’t include this area, he could only adopt an attitude of consultation.
“Professor, you’re no newcomer in the diplomatic field. The hotline concept was proposed by you. Back at the Palais des Nations during the Berlin Crisis negotiations, you gave me the idea of the paper airplane; you keenly captured the Soviet person’s psychology of wanting to ease the Berlin Crisis.” Lyndon Johnson reminisced about the past; at that time, he was still vice president.
Lin Ran said quietly, “Mr. President, so what you need is a complete resolution to this war, or just a temporary ceasefire?”
Lyndon Johnson stood up, leaned forward overlooking Lin Ran, maintained this posture for two minutes, then returned to his chair.
“I hope the Vietnam War can ultimately end decently.” After Lyndon Johnson finished speaking, he said nothing more.
Lin Ran understood the other’s meaning; what “decently” meant was obviously to continue fighting. If it was just a ceasefire ending without result, that had nothing to do with decency.
Ceasefire first, then continue fighting after the presidential election ends, until America wins.
After thinking, Lin Ran had a more precise grasp of Lyndon Johnson’s idea: to put it simply, there were two things during his term that he personally led—the Great Society and the Vietnam War; later Lin Ran helped him add Star Wars.
The Great Society was nearing bankruptcy, and the federal finance simply couldn’t afford to expand welfare coverage to the public while fighting the Vietnam War and Star Wars; even Lyndon Johnson himself rarely mentioned it anymore.
Star Wars definitely wouldn’t show results in the short term; at least by the end-of-year voting, there would be no achievements to show.
So wasn’t only the Vietnam War left?
Lyndon Johnson would never easily let the Vietnam War go bankrupt; if the Vietnam War also bankrupted, his term would be close to achieving nothing.
This was something a person like Lyndon Johnson could not accept.
When Lin Ran caught this signal—that truce was for better resumption of war—he decided to agree: “Okay, Mr. President, I’m willing to go to Geneva.”
Lyndon Johnson had thought Lin Ran, after hearing his answer, would refuse because he only wanted a brief peace.
Lin Ran continued, “Mr. President, do you know what I saw when I was on the moon?”
This time it was Lyndon Johnson who was baffled. “Professor, when did you go to the moon?”
“When I gazed at Earth from the moon, I felt the fragility of life and the vastness of the universe. Earth’s existence itself is a miracle; humanity needs Earth, not Earth needing humanity.” Lin Ran didn’t answer Lyndon Johnson’s question but answered himself.
He finally said, “So, Mr. President, what are my bargaining chips for the negotiations? What conditions can you promise the Soviet side?
Nuclear disarmament, arms control, or economic concessions?”
What Lin Ran listed were all things the media reported that the Soviet Union hoped to gain.
“Mr. President, you know, the longer you want the truce to last, the greater the price we may have to pay,” Lin Ran said.
For negotiations, he definitely needed to know the bottom line—what was the White House’s bottom line.
Hearing Lin Ran’s question, Lyndon Johnson no longer cared to think about what Lin Ran meant by standing on the moon; clearly Lin Ran had never been to the moon. He could only interpret it as looking at the imagery and information brought back by the astronauts.
Lyndon Johnson said, “We can ceasefire.”
Lin Ran waved his hand. “That’s obviously not enough. In the past, we already passed a ceasefire suggestion to the Kremlin through the London side; Hanoi has rejected this proposal.
I have doubts about this condition.”
“Sign a nuclear non-proliferation agreement?” Lyndon Johnson said hesitantly after a moment.
At this time, the Soviet Union was eager to advance strategic arms limitation talks (the precursor to SALT).
“I’m not optimistic.” Lin Ran said quietly.
Lyndon Johnson asked, “Then Professor, what conditions do you want?”
Lin Ran said, “We can create bargaining chips out of thin air.”
Lyndon Johnson repeated, “Create bargaining chips out of thin air?”
“Exactly, create transaction chips out of thin air,” Lin Ran said. “For example, we can order B-52 bombers to approach the Soviet border, hinting that we might end the war at any cost.”
After hearing this, Lyndon Johnson waved his hands repeatedly: “Isn’t this too crazy?”
Historically, the Nixon Administration created the Madman Theory—simply put, making the rival Soviet Union believe Nixon was irrational and unstable, so the Soviet leaders would avoid provoking America out of fear of unpredictable reactions.
In 1517, Machiavelli once argued that sometimes “simulating madness is a very wise thing.”
Nixon independently formulated this strategy in the Vietnam War, which observers considered a product of practical experience combined with observations of Dwight Eisenhower’s handling of the Korean War.
Doesn’t it feel familiar? Later, the White House president used this trick too.
However, the Madman Theory had two difficulties: one was making others believe you were really crazy, and the other was that a crazy person couldn’t assure others that even if they yielded to a specific demand, he wouldn’t go back on his word.
For example, big T; his image made it hard to believe he would fulfill his promises.
And what Lin Ran proposed—sending B-52 bombers near the Soviet border—was exactly what Nixon did.
Lin Ran first introduced the Madman Theory, then said, “Mr. President, in my view, this strategy fits you perfectly right now.”
Lyndon Johnson narrowed his eyes, signaling him to continue.
Lin Ran said, “Because of your current situation, sir—your competitors within the party have already begun attacking you; polls show you might not even get the Donkey Party nomination.
Downfall crisis is imminent; of course that’s bad, but if we are to implement the Madman Theory, this is good—it’s your advantage!
Because you have nothing left to lose. Anyway, the presidential seat is gone; why not go all out for a big play? Make the Soviet people think you’ve gone mad because facing failure, you’ll stop at nothing.
Send B-52 bombers near their border, simulate nuclear alert exercises, even hint in public speeches: if Hanoi doesn’t yield, Washington will escalate to unimaginable levels.
Make them think you’ve completely lost it, ready to ignite World War III at any moment.
Waiting for the turning point to appear—I believe the turning point will come. Once Hanoi yields, the war comes to a halt; Mr. President, isn’t the timing you’ve been waiting for right there?”
Lin Ran’s tone was flat, but Lyndon Johnson felt infinite temptation in it.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the snowscape outside the window, his mind churning like a storm: unrestrained? It sounded absurd, but also relieving. For years, he had been shackled by Congress, the media, and those hippie anti-war radicals. Now, with downfall imminent, why not try? Maybe this could force the Soviet Union to pressure North Vietnam for a ceasefire, letting him stay in the White House as a hero instead of slinking away as a failure.
Moments later, Lyndon Johnson murmured, “Professor, you mean… let me play the fool?”
“No, Mr. President, strategic madness.
Soviet people fear uncertainty the most.
They will be afraid and make those guys in Hanoi sit down to talk.
To put it simply, Soviet people absolutely do not want direct war with America, let alone nuclear war; I’m very certain of this.”
In the White House Oval Office, the wall clock ticked; Lyndon Johnson was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded, a long-lost ruthlessness surging in his heart: alright, why not? Anyway, I have nothing left.
“Professor, I’ll consult with the White House staff as soon as possible; then trouble you to make a trip to Geneva,” Lyndon Johnson said.
Lin Ran nodded: “Mr. President, whether my negotiations in Geneva can achieve results depends on whether your mad performance works.
If you make the Soviet Union believe we might really flip the table, then whether nuclear disarmament or ceasefire will work; if you can’t make the Soviet people believe it, neither condition will have any effect.”
“Everyone, let’s discuss your views on the professor’s proposal?” Lyndon Johnson said.
White House Cabinet meeting room, with confidential documents and long-cooled coffee on the oak long table, and in the center a map marked with war zones and the Soviet border line.
President Lyndon Johnson sat at the head of the table, his face tired and stern; his approval rating had fallen to around 35%, the challenge from Eugene McCarthy within the Donkey Party was spreading from Minnesota, and the shadow of the New Hampshire primary made his re-election prospects dim.
The Vietnam War’s consumption had exceeded expectations; Soviet Union and China’s aid made North Vietnam resist stubbornly. Cold War realism logic told him he must seek a breakthrough within the framework of mutual deterrence, or America’s global credibility would suffer.
But Lin Ran’s proposal—using the “Madman Theory” to create nuclear uncertainty—sounded bold and dangerous but indeed had some feasibility; he needed to hear the core team’s opinions to avoid going all-in recklessly.
Johnson scanned the room; the summoned advisors took their seats one after another: Secretary of State Dean Rusk, Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, National Security Advisor Walter Rostow holding thick memos with optimistic realism in their eyes; and diplomatic advisor Clark Clifford.
Clark was also Lyndon Johnson’s long-term advisor; he could provide legal and diplomatic dual perspectives.
If not for Lin Ran dissuading McNamara, McNamara would have already submitted his resignation to head to the World Bank by now, and replacing McNamara would be Clark Clifford.
McNamara spoke first: “I approve of the professor’s proposal!”
Just short of raising hands and feet in approval; even aside from his personal friendship with Lin Ran, he was also a hardliner against nuclear disarmament.
(Lyndon Johnson, Dean Rusk, and Robert McNamara)
