‘It’s quite simply beyond comprehension! Who the devil do they think they are? The fact that we’ve deployed soldiers to Afghanistan doesn’t mean they are to interfere with anything! Can’t they understand that the deployment was an opportunity for the armed forces? A chance to legitimise our ongoing defence spending, now that the Russians have actually lost the Cold War?’ The Prime Minister was talking through his clenched teeth. He tried to regain his composure as he turned towards the press secretary, who sat relaxed on the sofa.
‘Not only did those Jaegers have to play macho and seize a load of drugs, instead of concentrating on hunting down terrorists. But someone at our embassy has also written a report on the drug problem to the Foreign Secretary, for crying out loud! A report that was given to the press, without an iota of brain applied to the matter,’ he continued and slammed his fist onto the table, jolting the teaspoon in his coffee cup.
‘ISAF HQ wrote it, and it’s primarily statistical information on production in the various regions. The aim is clearly to secure continued funding for the military presence. However, the fact that Afghanistan is now a larger producer of opium than Colombia can 60hardly be characterised as news. The narcotics information office of the police has been on the road with that message for quite a while,’ the press secretary tried, cautiously.
‘Exactly! So let the police get on with it. ISAF is only getting involved because Britain and the US want support for burning poppy fields as an offensive against drugs. I accept that opium production is a massive problem for western Europe, but I don’t buy the claim that it funds global terrorism. It’s a police matter, with political implications that soldiers simply cannot comprehend! We should ban our troops from taking part in such operations, like the Germans have done,’ replied the Prime Minister, agitatedly, leaving no doubt that he would not let the matter go.
‘The Foreign Secretary has only let the forces make their mark in the drugs area because he intends to use it as a lever for his political platform in the election campaign. He’s bloody exasperated by the fact that I, as Prime Minister, get to articulate the government’s policy after the election. To think that he can steal some limelight by whipping up a debate about drugs just shows what an amateur he is. I’ve never liked him, and I’ll soon put a stop to his attempts to undermine my authority in the middle of an election campaign.’
The Prime Minister squirmed in the oversized leather chair and cleaned up some spilled coffee with a piece of paper, catching the press secretary’s stare.
‘What’s your take on this? Shall I embark on my own offensive together with the Leader of the Opposition, or do we have anything on the Foreign Secretary that we can leak to the press to get him to pipe down?’
He left the words suspended in mid-air, and experience told 61the press secretary not to attempt a reply. The questions were rhetorical – designed to show the Prime Minister’s belief in his own superiority. To demonstrate that he had several courses of action available to him.
‘I think we should come up with something on the Foreign Secretary,’ the Prime Minister continued, pensively, as he leaned back in the big leather chair like a cat that’s got the cream.
‘You must be able to come up with a few cases that were handled clumsily by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, mistakes the Foreign Secretary has made. Something that makes him appear utterly incompetent. I’m sure you can provide some inspiration to the opposition’s press office, based on unnamed sources.’
A smile flared across his face, and his cheeks blushed as he leaned forward over the desk:
‘That will put him in his place – in this and the next Cabinet. After all, it wasn’t his party that got us into power at the last election, and it won’t be this time either!’
The Prime Minister had an abstracted look in his eyes, and he started shuffling the papers on the desk; the press secretary realised the audience was over. As soon as the door had closed, the Prime Minister looked up from his papers and picked up the phone.
‘Gitte, get the Defence Secretary on the line.’
He cast a broody look around the office as he waited to be connected.
‘Jørgen, listen, I’m calling about that press release from Foreign Affairs. You know, the one on ISAF and Afghanistan’s opium production. Undoubtedly, it’s a brilliant report; only soldiers aren’t supposed to play at policemen. I’m sure you would agree with me on that. You’ve always made sure that military personnel are 62not causing the government any headaches,’ the Prime Minister paused for effect. ‘From now on, I want them to keep their heads down, and if publicity is needed, it must show government policy to be unconditionally successful. I have no problem with soldiers parading as heroes, on those terms. That goes down well with the constituents. The election campaign has just been launched, and I simply will not accept that the agenda for upcoming election rallies is being hijacked. If you catch my drift, I refuse to conduct this campaign in the shadow of poppy fields. The plan is for you to continue in the Cabinet after the election, as you’ve always been loyal to the party, right?’
The Prime Minister hung up before the Defence Secretary could answer. And that was how you got your big break in the Ministry of Defence playpen, he thought as he rose from his desk and walked to the gilt Empire mirror on the wall, where he adjusted his immaculate tie knot.