Chapter 95: Differences
As the cruise ship slowly docked, the chill on shore felt far sharper than the relaxed atmosphere that had prevailed on board.
By all diplomatic convention, a special envoy of Jörg's rank could be received with courtesy, even with unusual warmth, but not to the extent of having the President appear in person at the harbor.
There were unwritten rules in international diplomacy. Between great powers, the rank of the welcoming party was generally expected to match that of the visiting representative. That showed respect without implying weakness. More importantly, Jörg had not come under the title of Deputy Commander in Chief of the Reichswerh. Officially, he was part of the Foreign Ministry's inspection delegation and was visiting in a diplomatic capacity.
By that standard, even a reception led by the Vice President would already have been considered generous. Given Dawes's personal friendship with him, it was not entirely unreasonable.
And yet, at that moment, two striking black Cadillacs were parked at New York Harbor.
One belonged to Vice President Dawes, whose formal standing more or less matched Jörg's role in this visit.
The other belonged to President Calvin Coolidge.
That peculiar double reception instantly set every reporter's imagination on fire. Combined with the rumors that had been circulating even before the presidential inauguration, speculation about a rift between the President and Vice President practically wrote itself.
For once, the press was not entirely wrong.
Standing by the red carpet, Coolidge rested one hand against the lowered car window and looked down at the pocket watch in his palm.
The second hand moved with mechanical steadiness.
Beside it, tucked inside the case, was a black and white photograph of his recently deceased son.
Unlike Dawes, who stood outside the carpet wearing an easy smile, Coolidge had always been known for his reserved and opaque temperament, and he remained so now. His lowered gaze and faintly mournful expression made him seem especially distant, almost severe.
The reason he had appeared here, against his own preferences, was simple.
Dawes had gone too far.
After returning from Norway, the Vice President had grown increasingly overbearing. His prestige from restructuring Germany's economy had indeed helped the administration secure its electoral victory, but the rising fame of Dawes stock had made him far too confident. At banquets, public events, and private gatherings alike, he spoke as if Europe had already fallen fully under American influence because of him alone. Whenever diplomacy was discussed, he claimed the triumphs for himself and treated the President as a ceremonial accessory.
If that had been the extent of it, Coolidge might still have endured it.
What truly angered him was Dawes's complete disregard for presidential authority.
Coolidge had originally intended to draw Dawes into cabinet affairs and use him to reinforce the administration's line against the alliance of Democrats and Progressives. Dawes had not only refused, he had declared that attending cabinet meetings in such a manner would violate the spirit of the Constitution.
That alone was irritating.
What made it unforgivable was that the fool had even sent the letter to the press.
Had it not been intercepted in time, the entire country would have read on the front page that the Vice President had publicly slapped the President in the face. Was Dawes trying to pressure him with public opinion? To box in his decisions? To tell America that the true power in Washington sat in the Vice President's office?
Coolidge's fingers tightened slightly around the watch.
Since his son's death, even Dawes had begun to notice the change in him. His patience had shortened. His temper had grown less predictable. At several state functions, he had already expressed his dissatisfaction more openly than usual.
And this time, his presence at the harbor had a purpose.
First, he wanted to break the impression that he was weak in diplomacy.
Second, he meant to show every watching politician, journalist, banker, and foreign envoy that Dawes was merely a loudmouth with good timing and an even better instinct for self advertisement. Without him, the United States could still conduct diplomacy just fine.
By the other Cadillac, Dawes hid his displeasure beneath a polished smile.
He did not believe he had done anything wrong. He had merely made his position known. As far as he was concerned, Coolidge's arrival here without warning was a childish attempt to put him in his place, to vent resentment about the letter and embarrass him in a diplomatic setting.
Ever since his son died of infection, Dawes had felt that his old friend had grown increasingly sensitive, increasingly irritable, increasingly difficult to predict.
A hard job, being Vice President.
Dawes sighed inwardly.
If Coolidge had informed him in advance, he would not have let things sour so badly. Public embarrassment at the harbor would benefit no one. But since the President had chosen to appear without notice and make a show of it, Dawes was already thinking of a way to counter him.
He had one.
As he watched the cruise ship draw near, he had already settled on a reason to bring Jörg, the key diplomatic figure he had personally invited, into his own car.
A long whistle cut through the harbor wind and reached Jörg's ears.
Standing at the rail, he looked down at the strange scene below and was briefly taken aback. The surprise lasted only a moment before it turned into a faint smile.
He knew Dawes and Coolidge had their disagreements, but he had not expected the conflict to arrive so quickly, so openly, and in such a useful form.
This was good.
Conflict always created profit.
Lia, who had already noticed the situation as well, stepped closer and asked quietly, "Mr. Jörg, whose car should we enter?"
Jörg considered it for only a moment.
"We enter the car of the man with the higher formal rank," he said. "But that does not mean we neglect the other. Diplomatic intent must never be too obvious."
His purpose in coming to America was, on the surface, to inspect various companies. But that was only the surface.
In truth, he wanted to move two shipbuilding firms that had already been selected into Germany. He did not expect that to be easily permitted. He had personally screened both companies. Their ties to American naval construction were substantial. Even if the transfer was disguised as a subsidiary arrangement or a commercial partnership, restrictions from Washington were inevitable.
Before leaving Germany, Jörg had already settled on his broader strategy.
Use the Soviet Union to pressure the United States.
Create the appearance of mounting international tension.
Then, at the proper moment, sign a lukewarm agreement that would create the illusion of Germany inclining toward America. Political concessions would be exchanged for industrial gain.
It would not damage relations with the Soviet Union. Their conduct at the military academy had already shown that they would not expose the base merely because of treaty wording. They were beneficiaries too.
But now, seeing this scene on the dock, Jörg realized he might be able to extract even more than he had planned.
With that thought, he led the delegation down the gangway.
Dawes moved first and extended his hand.
"Long time no see, Jörg. Please convey my regards to President Hindenburg."
They shook hands.
"Long time no see, Mr. Dawes."
Then Jörg turned at once and extended his left hand toward Coolidge.
"And this must be Mr. Coolidge. Mr. President, I must confess I did not expect someone as insignificant as myself to be personally received by you."
Coolidge had been considering how to justify his presence in a way that would not sound petty. He had not expected the young German to hand him an opening so neatly.
He took it at once.
And, almost against his will, developed a favorable impression of him.
"Mr. Jörg von Roman," Coolidge said, "I have heard a great deal about the role you played in the economic agreement. Speaking only for myself, I suspect the Nobel Peace Prize ought to have gone to you."
The moment those words were spoken, the air on the dock tightened.
Dawes's smile barely changed, but the change in his eyes was obvious.
He was just about to answer when Jörg moved a step ahead of him and dissolved the tension with a light, almost playful tone.
"That would never do, Mr. President," he said with a faint laugh. "If a German won the Peace Prize, Paris would be furious."
.....
[If you don't want to wait for the next update, read 50 chapters ahead on P@treon.]
[[email protected]/FanficLord03]