Chapter 423: He Has No Choice
After the Nixon press conference ended, the White House East Room fell into chaos.
Reporters rushed out of the hall, scrambling for telephone booths to send this shocking news back to their respective editorials.
Amid the crowd’s clamor, two editor-in-chiefs from different media squeezed together, their dialogue filled with argument and unease.
“This is too crazy, Luce!” The Washington Post’s editor-in-chief Ben Bradley found it difficult to accept: “Just based on a blurry video tape and a ballistic report from half a year ago? He just destroyed the hope of peace that we had finally seen?”
Time Magazine’s editor-in-chief Henry Luce retorted in a low voice: “The video is not blurry, Ben. I’ve looked at it carefully; Dobrynin’s face is very clear.”
“So what? Does this prove that the Soviet Union government ordered Hoover’s assassination?” Ben Bradley’s voice was also kept very low, after all, such a viewpoint was not so appropriate to express now: “This can only prove that Soviet Union embassy personnel appeared there. It could be a coincidence, or it could be a trap.
Our president, just because of this, is going to scrap the peace agreement, and make more American young people go to their deaths?”
Henry Luce fell silent; he knew what Ben Bradley said was the truth.
From the chain of evidence, Nixon’s conclusion was not rigorous.
“This is not a matter of rigorousness or not, Ben; this is politics.” Luce said slowly, his voice filled with helplessness: “You have to understand Nixon’s situation. He promised during the campaign to bring peace, but peace has been delayed.
Anti-war sentiment has already made him overwhelmed, and now Hoover’s assassination has happened; the public’s anger has reached its peak.
He has no choice; he has no choice.”
He looked at Ben Bradley, his gaze filled with insight into political reality.
Luce continued: “In my feeling, Nixon can be criticized by history for mistakes in diplomacy, but if he ignores the public’s anger over Hoover being killed, he will be spurned by the public.
Hoover was not a good person, but in the public eye, he was a big figure who worked for America for more than forty years, and worked in an institution like the FBI for more than forty years.
Even such a big figure could be publicly executed in a way that could be called humiliating; the public’s dissatisfaction with the Soviet Union has reached its peak.”
Ben Bradley felt deeply helpless because he knew what Luce said was the truth.
“He knows what the public wants,” Luce continued: “They want peace, but they want dignity even more.
They cannot accept a national hero being assassinated by foreign forces while their president remains indifferent.
If Nixon insists on the peace agreement in this situation, he will lose voter support.
The opponents have been eyeing Nixon covetously anyway.”
Frustration was written all over Ben Bradley’s face: “That’s right; the big figures in Washington are always like this.
This time it’s just a repetition of history; he would rather use war to exchange for his own political life.”
Luce looked at the spire of the White House in the distance and repeated what he had just said: “He has no choice.
Because choosing toughness is his only choice.
If any other president were in his place, at this point in time, they could only make such a choice.”
Since the news broke, the Soviet Union embassy in Washington has been surrounded.
Angry crowds, FBI and Secret Service vehicles, protesters from all directions.
Since V’s video tape was exposed, it has never enjoyed peace here again.
After President Nixon’s press conference ended, the angry crowd outside the White House quickly turned toward the Soviet Union embassy in Washington.
More and more people gathered here.
Because of the Vienna Convention on Diplomatic Relations signed in 1961, diplomatic personnel enjoy immunity; both the Soviet Union and America are signatories to the convention.
Ambassadors enjoy complete criminal jurisdictional immunity and will not be arrested or prosecuted for any criminal offense.
But inside the embassy, the sounds of telephones and telegraphs rose and fell; the atmosphere was tense to the extreme.
Dobrynin was pale-faced; he knew that at this point in time, they had no choice.
He had to personally face this crisis.
And he was waiting for the final decision from the Kremlin.
Whether to publicly reveal the inside story of Hoover working for the Soviet Union.
This was almost the only way to clear their suspicion.
But this would also have problems.
That is, even if Hoover worked for the Soviet Union, it cannot explain that it wasn’t you who did it; after all, what if you fell out? What if Hoover defected and planned to surrender to Washington?
This would instead corroborate that the Soviet people had full justification for killing Hoover.
It would just cause a public trust collapse and put the White House in an extremely passive situation with this bigger news.
Why would it cause a public trust collapse?
Because Hoover was the banner against G, one of the important promoters of McCarthyism, and publicly supported Joseph McCarthy’s expanded investigation in 1950.
And now you’re telling me that Edgar Hoover worked for the Soviet Union?
This is a bit like homophobes being deep in the closet, like telling you that a church bishop who advocates conservatism, says homosexuality is a disease and should be exiled to the edges of the world, is actually gay in private.
This would cause the believers’ inner collapse.
“Execute Plan A.”
The telegraph from the distant Kremlin had only a short sentence.
Dobrynin knew that the Kremlin had made the decision.
He came to the front of the embassy gate, surrounded by armed American police and frenzied reporters.
At this moment, there was not a trace of fear on Dobrynin’s face, only the calmness and determination of a seasoned diplomat; he knew that at this crossroads of the world, he should make the due contribution.
“I stand here not to defend myself,” Dobrynin’s voice echoed through the microphone on the clamorous Washington street. “But to defend the dignity and reputation of the Soviet Union.
The accusations of the American president are outright lies, malicious sabotage of world peace.”
He took a deep breath and continued: “I admit that my personnel and I did appear at Mr. Edgar Hoover’s villa on the night Mr. Hoover passed away.
But our purpose was not as Mr. Nixon said.
We received an anonymous tip-off that someone would harm Mr. Hoover; we went to prevent a tragedy from happening, not to create a tragedy.”
The scene was in an uproar.
This was a bit too ridiculous.
Would Soviet people go to protect Hoover?
Even if what Dobrynin said was true, and they learned in advance that Hoover was going to be assassinated, then the Soviet people going to the scene would also be to make sure Hoover didn’t survive, to finish him off.
Dobrynin’s gaze swept over every reporter present; his voice became even more firm: “I swear here on my personal honor and that of my homeland that I, Anatoly Dobrynin, did not kill Mr. Hoover.
Nor have I ever ordered my subordinates to do anything harmful to Mr. Hoover.”
He knew how powerless his words sounded.
He had no evidence to prove his innocence; more accurately, the Kremlin did not allow him to publish any evidence.
In this situation, his defense seemed so ridiculous.
However, he had no choice.
He had to persist, had to deny, had to push the responsibility for this political storm back onto the American government.
“This is a conspiracy,” Dobrynin said finally, his voice filled with anger and accusation: “This is a conspiracy carefully planned by conspirators, by V; they do not want peace, they crave war.
They do not hesitate to sacrifice a hero’s life to find an excuse for themselves to start a war.”
After speaking, he turned and returned to the embassy.
The iron gate behind him slowly closed, blocking out the reporters’ questioning voices and the flashes of cameras.
Dobrynin knew that his statement could only make this storm more fierce, and he and his homeland would have to face the anger from America.
What Dobrynin did not know was why the Kremlin did not reveal Hoover’s true identity?
They had too many cooperation records with Hoover that could be brought out; just publishing one would be enough to bankrupt the accusation that they killed him.
Hoover was our man; why would we kill our own man?
This is the simplest logic.
As for falling out, Hoover did so much for us; could there possibly be a falling out?
Dobrynin could not understand.
Could it be that the people in the Kremlin do not want peace either?
At this moment, he particularly missed Nikita.
Compared to Nikita, Leonard was far too radical.
Leonard’s radicalism was fake radicalism.
It was using others’ blood to prove his own toughness, never daring to let Soviet people shed blood from beginning to end, not daring to cross the red lines drawn by Washington.
Every time it was quick to act, it was always against betraying allies, never daring to hit allies within America’s designated range.
That’s right, the Soviet Union hits the Soviet Union’s allies, threatens, squeezes, or even directly attacks, but does not hit America’s allies.
The Kremlin had Dobrynin execute Plan A because they thought they could not be the ones to publicly reveal Hoover’s other side.
Moscow, Kremlin, a secret emergency meeting room, was full of people.
Those who could sit here were all Moscow’s core decision-making layer.
The room was filled with cigarette smoke.
At such times, cigarettes were essential.
After all, this was not a routine meeting, but an emergency debate concerning the survival of the world.
Leonard sat at the head of the long table, his gaze sweeping over every committee member’s face, searching for answers.
The red telephone on the table remained quiet, but everyone knew it could deliver the ultimatum from Washington at any moment.
Nuclear war, everyone thought almost simultaneously.
Leonard broke the silence: “Comrades, V is a madman; they really are. He really made public that video.
He is very likely a remnant of the Third Reich, the most elite warrior of the Third Reich, all for the revival of the German Empire.
He is pushing our world to the brink of war.
I need a decision, a decision that can stop this disaster.
Now, please speak freely.”
The first to speak was Marshal Grechko, a firm hardliner.
“Comrade Leonard, we cannot retreat.
This is an open provocation against the Soviet Union!
Americans think we fear war, think we dare not fight back!
If we show weakness now, that will be the biggest mistake.
We should deny all accusations and immediately order our army to enter the highest state of combat readiness.
We must use steel and determination to tell the Americans that any provocation will be met with devastating retaliation!”
Grechko’s words rang out forcefully, filled with a soldier’s resolve.
In the meeting room, some nodded in approval.
They believed that in the Cold War, any compromise would be seen as weakness and exploited by the opponent.
At this time, KGB Chairman Andropov spoke slowly; he was always known for his calmness and thoughtfulness:
“I understand Marshal Grechko’s anger, but we must clearly recognize that this game is no longer a simple propaganda war.
The trump card in Nixon’s hand is not lies, but Hoover’s body and our embassy’s vehicles.
If war breaks out, we will lose everything.
Our economy cannot bear a total war, let alone the consequences of nuclear war.”
He paused, his gaze fixed on Leonard.
“General Secretary Comrade, the crisis we face now is both military and political.
We must address both.
Directly publicizing Hoover’s identity, while it could immediately clear our innocence, would be too reckless.
It would be seen by Americans as our intimidation, a naked threat, a declaration of war to the world.
Moreover, the credibility of doing so would be very low.”
Andropov’s words shocked everyone present.
“Our purpose is to undermine Nixon’s political foundation, not to corner him.” He continued, “If we directly announce that Hoover was our man, all those working for us in the West will fall into panic, which would cause incalculable damage to our intelligence network.”
He paused, a gleam of shrewdness in his eyes.
“Our strategy should be more subtle.
We cannot step forward directly, but we can let the truth speak for itself.”
“How?” Leonard asked.
“We hold all the evidence of Hoover working for us for eight years.
We can selectively, through our reliable media channels in Europe, slowly leak this evidence.
Let public opinion fall into chaos over Hoover working for us.
We throw out evidence, the White House denies it; we throw out more evidence, the White House denies again; we produce decisive evidence.
The White House’s public credibility will suffer the harshest blow.
America’s public will be in chaos.
In such a situation, the unified anger will be replaced by chaos.
We do not issue a statement; we let London’s The Times or France’s Le Monde speak for us.”
Andropov’s proposal made Marshal Grechko angry.
“This is self-mutilation! To save a motorcade, we will expose our most precious asset of decades! The intelligence network around Hoover will all be destroyed.” He denounced.
“What we face now is not the survival of the intelligence network, but the survival of human civilization!” Andropov’s voice carried rare agitation: “Compared to the risk of nuclear war, any intelligence loss is negligible.
This is a huge sacrifice, but it is also the only effective means to avoid total war.
We use the identity of a traitor to exchange for peace.
We use a secret to dismantle a possible war.”
Leonard fell into deep thought. He knew Andropov was right.
Nixon’s toughness was because he faced pressure from the public.
If he could make America’s public direct their anger at Hoover and become chaotic, instead of at the Soviet Union, then Nixon’s political pressure would be greatly relieved, thereby reopening the door to peace talks.
After thinking for a moment, he said:
“Comrade Andropov,” Leonard finally ordered, his voice calm and decisive: “Act immediately; let the Europeans announce this explosive news.”
Washington, Washington Post editorial department
Executive editor Ben Bradley felt the past week was particularly chaotic; the White House made the decision to send more troops, determined to turn Annam into a bastion of the free world.
President Nixon, in an interview, expressed distrust of McNamara, while emphasizing that the other party must go to the front lines and could no longer continue to stay in the White House commanding battles from thousands of miles away.
The Kremlin side categorically denied the White House’s accusations.
Dobrynin appeared on several programs trying to convince America’s public that this matter had nothing to do with them, but he could never explain the core problem: why he was there at that point in time.
The professor was kept at the White House by the president for ready consultation; Kissinger was sent to Europe to discuss with European allies the matter of deploying more missiles in their countries.
Washington was like a gigantic war machine starting to operate.
The telephone rang:
“Hello, this is John Haley; I received a letter from V saying that Hoover had been working for the Soviet Union all his life.”
Sir Haley, The Times editor-in-chief.
