It was remarkable how quiet the White House was. Other than the air-conditioners, there was hardly a sound; most of the staff having headed out for the holiday weekend. The president contemplated what most would consider a pretty sky, the sunset burnishing the wispy clouds with streaks of lavender and pink, but with no effect on his ever-souring mood.
His desk in the Oval office was stacked high with memos and correspondence and folders. There were probably forty position papers in the mix, but the one he was obsessively concerned with had to do with the bombing campaign in Iraq, and whether to expand it into Syria. And would it even end in Syria? What if the Islamic State shifted territory into Lebanon or Yemen. Much like Nixon’s predicament with the Vietcong in Cambodia, would he, once started, be forced to rain death from the sky on militants in violation of several countries’ sovereign air space?
He thought for the ten-thousandth time about his Nobel Peace Prize. Even when he was so prematurely given the honor, he wondered if it would become a millstone around his neck when faced with military decisions. Now that quandary had indeed set itself on his doorstep. At the very least he had to exhaust non-military alternatives, and seek to form a coalition to face this threat, a threat much more dangerous than any Saddam or the Taliban had posed.
So, while his enemies accused him of dawdling indecisiveness, the leader of the free world had instigated dozens of conversations with leaders in the Mideast, as well as Europe. While these heads of state unanimously agreed that the Sunni militants had to be eradicated from the world stage, they also were uniformly hesitant to ascribe their names and resources to the task, lest they be subjected to reprisals in their homelands.
And civilian casualties were a huge issue in the matter (what was that phrase he hated? “Collateral damage”). Islamist State soldiers clothed themselves with the innocents in the various towns they occupied. Heavy bombing would likely leave more non-combatants dead than militants.
POTUS went to his intercom and summoned Susan Rice. She came in, her eyes reddened. She had obviously been crying again. And had misplaced her purse. Again. He let her go to continue her search.
Deciding to stretch his legs for a minute, Obama walked out a few feet from the office, where he spotted Hillary walking briskly by with a bag full of carpet samples and color swatches. These she said she was just taking to a friend in Georgetown. He didn’t detain her, and walked back into the Oval Office, his cocoon for longer and longer periods lately. He ruminated bitterly how the attack dogs (Foxes?) had yelped and howled when he played the occasional game of tension-relieving golf.
Thinking of his enemies, the president pulled out his personal cellphone and called John McCain. “John, I have a question to ask you. Should I order bombings of –“
“A loud “Yes” came the reply. “And right away.” Then a click and the senator was off the line.
Obama thought of calling the Veep but had earlier seen Biden with a Boy Scout troop that had won some award. They were explaining things about nature to the Vice President, and it looked like it was going to take a while.
On a sudden whim the president had a call put in to Henry Kissinger, who quickly answered. He had a difficult time understanding the former Secretary of State/ Warmeister, who was rumbling on about territorial embolisms (“embolisms”?) and shifting geopolitical paradigms. He thanked him politely and hung up.
Time to call the Secretary of State, he concluded. He found John Kerry sailing on Cape Cod, but got patched through. Kerry said that he could go either way on the presidential decision, but whatever the president decided, he mustn’t flip-flop. “Must not change your mind, sir,” he repeated. As this was advice given freely and often by the Secretary, Obama bid him a good weekend and got off the line.
Finally he did the thing he hated to do, although it was usually a helpful move; he called Bill Clinton.
“Barack, I can only tell you what I would do, and keep in mind that on balance my Bosnian policy was considered a success. I’d bomb the bastards wherever they have strongholds between now and the elections -- of course protecting the party’s flank -- then assess the situation at that point. If by then you’ve managed to put a serious hitch in their giddyup, go to Congress and ask for a 30-day mission of around a hundred thousand of our best troops – Special Forces, SEALS, Marines and combat-hardened foot soldiers. It’ll be ugly, but necessary to clean out the rats nests.” The ex-president paused, then added, “Don’t leave us much of a mess if you can help it, Barack. We’ve got a boatload of plans ready going forward.”
The president calmly and sincerely thanked the ex-POTUS, disconnected the line, then started arrangements for a 7am Tuesday meeting in the War Room.