Technology invades the modern world

Chapter 420: No Glory, No Peace

On the shores of Lake Geneva, after concluding negotiations with North Vietnam, Lin Ran met with Mr. Qiao, a diplomat from China.

To be more precise, it was the other party who arranged to meet him.

The Alps in the distance have already seen their first snow.

Lin Ran was taking a walk alone by the lake, the entire area heavily guarded by America's security personnel.

After passing through security checks, Chinese diplomats slowly approached from a distance.

"Professor, it's been a long time." Mr. Qiao's voice came before he even arrived.

As an indispensable figure in the modern diplomatic history of China, Qiao was someone Lin Ran first met in Geneva.

That was a negotiation about the Berlin Crisis. China played the role of mediator. The other party came with the Chinese delegation and was considered the third most important person in the Chinese delegation at the time.

“Professor, we hope to promote the normalization of relations between China and America, and ideally, to return to the United Nations.” Mr. Qiao had already made preparations after learning that Lin Ran had accepted his request for a meeting.

The instructions given to him by the Yanjing side were that he needed to be as honest as possible with the other party, to tell them our true purpose, and even what we were willing to give and our bottom line in the negotiations.

After receiving such strange instructions, Qiao once doubted whether Lin Ran was really one of their "own people" as rumored.

Then he felt a pang of regret, because if the other party was really one of his own, it would be such a shame.

Our country's top talents cannot be directly used by us.

"Of course, of course, that time will come soon, but that's far from enough," Lin Ran said quietly, turning to look at the calm lake.

He could tell from Joe's clothes and complexion that China in this timeline was much wealthier than the original China. The country had money, so the living conditions of these diplomats were much better.

From her clothing to her complexion, there was no sign of distress.

Not enough? What's not enough? A question arose in Joe's mind.

“We once stationed troops in Japan. At that time, the occupying forces' garrison was centered on Aichi Prefecture and included Shizuoka and Mie Prefectures.”

Later, for various reasons, they withdrew from Japan in 1946, but legally speaking, China had this right.

Your desire to rejoin the United Nations means you must accept all the rights granted by the ROC and be recognized globally as the sole legitimate representative of China.

Lin Ran spoke calmly, but his words made Qiao's blood boil.

This is of great significance to every Chinese person, and Joe is no exception; just thinking about it makes him very excited.

The red tide in Tokyo would only become more ferocious, America's situation in the Vietnam War would only become more difficult, and Nixon's attempt to push the dollar out of the Bretton Woods Agreement at this timeline would become an impossible task.

The entire east hall was packed with reporters and photographers, with flashes going off constantly.

The reporters were filled with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation.

Three chairs were already prepared on the dais.

In the center is President Nixon, to his left is Randolph Lin, the current NASA administrator and the negotiator for this mission, and to his right is Secretary of State William Rogers.

Nixon and Rogers took their seats first, and Lin Ran arrived later.

But when he arrived, the intensity of the flashes suddenly increased, and the reporters began to whisper among themselves.

The reporters hadn't seen Lin Ran for two months and were practically dying of longing; this was a guarantee of sales.

President Nixon cleared his throat, and the entire hall fell silent instantly.

“My fellow Americans,” Nixon’s voice was loud and powerful, yet carried an unusual solemnity: “I stand here not to declare a victory, but to declare the beginning of peace.”

He paused briefly, his gaze sweeping over the reporters below the stage:

“Over the past few weeks, we have held an unprecedented secret meeting in Geneva.”

I sent my special representative, the most sincere and wise person I could find, to engage in direct dialogue with the Hanoi side.

He came without any preconditions, without any boasts of victory; he brought only our sincerity and our deepest desire for peace.

Nixon nodded to Lin Ran.

Everyone already knew about Lin Ran's negotiations with the Hanoi representative in Geneva.

A special Geneva report from Jenny Hearst, editor-in-chief of The New York Times, revealed that while Lin Ran was on his flight back to Washington, the latest issue of The New York Times, containing the report, had already been sent to America's countless mailboxes like scraps of paper.

“Now I can tell you that we have reached an agreement in principle.” Nixon’s words were like a bombshell, detonating the atmosphere: “According to the agreement, America will withdraw all combat troops from Baiyue in phases within a clear timetable.”

At the same time, North Vietnam will immediately release all American troops prisoners of war and pledge to exercise restraint in the peace process.

“This was a difficult decision, and a courageous one,” Nixon continued. “It wasn’t a perfect agreement, but it was the most genuine one.”

It means that we will bring our boys home and we will end this war that is tearing our country apart.

It also means that we will hand over the future of the Baiyue people to them.

After Nixon finished speaking, he leaned back in his chair, gesturing for Lin Ran to speak.

Randolph didn't hold the microphone; he just leaned forward slightly.

"All I've done is bring human language to the negotiating table." Randolph's voice was deep and clear, penetrating the entire hall: "I don't represent the interests of any party; I only represent one fact: war is humanity's greatest defeat."

Peace is truly possible when two opposing systems are willing to sit down and talk about their shared suffering, rather than their positions.

This agreement is not a victory for anyone, but a relief for everyone.

His words did not elicit a round of applause from the audience.

Next was the Q&A session. A reporter from The New York Times was the first to ask a question. He stood up and asked loudly:
"Mr. President, does this agreement mean that we have not achieved a glorious peace? Can it be seen as a unilateral concession to the enemy?"

Before Nixon could answer, Rogers preempted him, taking the microphone and speaking in his characteristic, somewhat arrogant, rational tone:
"My friend, this is a real-world question."

In any conflict, glory is defined by the cost of bloodshed.

Mr. Randolph, in his way, saved us from further bloodshed.

This agreement may not be glorious in the traditional sense, but it won America the most valuable thing: an opportunity to reunite the country and restore its vitality.

From this perspective, it is more valuable than any military victory.” Nixon then replied:
"This is a glorious peace, without a doubt."

During President Johnson's administration, he even raised the issue of reparations to Vietnam in an effort to persuade North Vietnam to agree to peace talks.

During the Paris negotiations at that time, we proposed to provide aid to Vietnam in an attempt to promote peace talks.

However, due to serious differences between the two sides, and North Vietnam's insistence on reparations rather than aid, the Paris negotiations were temporarily suspended.

Yes, Lyndon Johnson wanted to resolve the issue through aid, but North Vietnam wanted to define it as reparations.

Aid and compensation are vastly different.

"I think you all remember how much President Lyndon Johnson asked Congress for? A full $10 billion."

PS: On April 7, 1965, Johnson reiterated his willingness to engage in unconditional discussions with Hanoi. To increase attractiveness, Johnson suggested economic cooperation among Southeast Asian countries, stating, "Once peaceful cooperation becomes possible, we hope North Vietnam will join in," and that he would request the U.S. Congress to provide $1 billion for Southeast Asian economic development plans. (Lyndon B. Johnson, Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States: Lyndon B. Johnson, 1965, I, pp. 394-399)

"Only the professor can do it, without spending a single dollar, to bring our soldiers back to America peacefully."

Nixon concluded.

His summary left the reporters in the audience somewhat bewildered.

This has been the case countless times in the past at press conferences held in the East Room of the White House, with the professor sitting next to the president, accomplishing one feat after another that others could not.

It doesn't matter who the president is, from Kennedy to Johnson to Nixon; what matters is that the professor is still in the White House.

Thinking of this, the reporters below the stage erupted in the loudest applause since the start of today's press conference.

"We desire peace, we yearn for peace, we value peace, and I will bring peace."

Lin Ran concluded.

Washington, D.C., editorial office of The Washington Post
The press conference in the East Room of the White House had just ended when the phone line in the editorial office nearly went dead.

Chief Executive Editor Ben Bradley paced back and forth in the room like a lion in a cage, picking up the phone to listen to news from the scene from reporter Carl Bernstein.

“There was no victory, Ben,” Bernstein’s voice sounded somewhat agitated. “But the professor brought back peace! He did it.”

Bradley hung up the phone and looked around the room at each reporter and editor waiting for instructions.

He knew this was no ordinary news article; it would be the starting point for discussions about the Nixon administration for decades to come.

He pointed to a senior editor, Howard Simmons.

"Howard, what do you think?" Bradley asked.

Simmons took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"It's complicated, Ben."

Nixon's speech sounded like an apology for his campaign slogan.

The glorious peace he promised has not materialized, and no matter how eloquent the slogans are, they cannot stop the fact that we will lose South Vietnam.

This is appeasement peace, this is abandoning the Baiyue people.

More importantly, this was entirely due to the professor, not Nixon.

Even if Lyndon Johnson were sitting in the White House right now, we would still hear similar things.

We cannot simply define it as Nixon's success or failure.

Bradley nodded, his gaze shifting to a young reporter, Bob Woodward.

"Woodward, what's your opinion?"

Woodward had only recently joined the White House press corps, but his observational skills were already remarkably sharp.

"It's like Nixon telling the people of America: 'I can't win, but I can end it.'"

President Johnson's problem in the past was that he refused to admit defeat because he had started the war.

Bradley picked up his favorite red marker and wrote heavily on the whiteboard: "Not victory, but peace."

“This is our core,” Bradley’s voice was filled with a sense of mission. “We will approach it from this angle. We are not reporting on the glory that Nixon wanted us to see, but on the peace that this country truly faces, a peace fraught with contradictions.”

We want to tell our readers why this peace only brings applause for the professor, not for peace itself; and why, regarding the Vietnam War, we can only sigh.

He began assigning tasks, his tone decisive:

"Front-page headline: We must use the most concise and powerful language to directly point out the core issue."

The main manuscript was co-authored by Bernstein and Woodward.

Bernstein was tasked with obtaining more details from sources within the White House, especially the professor's remarks during the Geneva negotiations; he needed more memorable quotes similar to his concluding remarks.
Woodward was responsible for depicting the atmosphere of the scene, providing a deep portrayal of the subtle emotions between the professor and Nixon.

The editorial was written by Simmons.

We need to analyze, from a historical perspective, the profound impact of this peace agreement on America's foreign policy, and whether it was truly glorious. Furthermore, we need to define Nixon's so-called glorious peace, and what he actually accomplished to qualify it as such.

Bradley concluded that his voice was imbued with the critical and reflective spirit characteristic of The Washington Post.

"We are not the mouthpiece of the White House, we are the eyes of the American people."

Our responsibility is to uncover the truth, no matter how complex it may be.

Today, we do not take sides; we only care about history.

Go forth, children, and write down the stories of this era.

Just as he finished assigning tasks, a commotion arose outside. Jimmy Wicklin, the intern in charge of odd jobs, walked in, and Bradley was sure he looked like a dead man.

This was the most unpleasant look on his face he had ever seen.

It was as if we had experienced some unprecedented disaster.

“Mr. Bradley, V sent a videotape. The Soviets killed Edgar Hoover.”

(End of this chapter)