particularly.”
Benton smiled. “I had one year at Arizona State. I’ve had some bad years, but that was a bad one.”
“It has its compensations.”
“Like what?”
“It’s a job.”
Benton laughed. “Why’d you leave the State Department?”
“Let’s just say I didn’t see eye to eye with all the people who mattered.”
That’s what Joe Benton had heard. And that Olsen had a habit of getting under the skin of his superiors, which Benton could believe after only two minutes in the same room with him. But also that he was very smart, decisive, able to get stuff done and with a peculiar ability to gain the loyalty of the people who reported to him.
Benton liked him. Instinctively. And yet he felt in Olsen’s case that was something he needed to guard against.
“You come highly recommended,” he said.
“As what?”
“Why don’t you tell me?”
“Look, Senator,” said Olsen, “I’m flattered to be asked down to talk to you, I really am. But I don’t think you really want to hear the kinds of things I have to say. Your position is more, let’s say, inward-looking. This country’s foreign involvements are a background, if you will.”
“I’m not sure that’s right,” said Benton. “I can see why you might say that. It’s a matter of degree. Primarily, I see this country’s foreign policy as a means of creating the best conditions for prosperity within the United States. You could say that’s pretty limited. But in our global world, I don’t underestimate how much influence conditions abroad have on prosperity within this country. I don’t underestimate how important—from a domestic perspective—it is to do the right thing in relation to our friends and allies. And our enemies, I might add. So I think you can come at it from one direction or you can come at it from the other, but fundamentally, I don’t think it makes too much difference.”
“I think there is a difference.”
“Perhaps. Some. I’m no expert, Dr. Olsen.”
“If we don’t lead, Senator, we will be led. Therefore we must lead.”
“Again, agreed. There are different ways of leading, though, don’t you think?”
“Only if they achieve the necessary effect.”
Benton looked at the other man with interest. “Is that important to you? Having an effect?”
“What else is diplomacy for?”
Benton shook his head. “You must sure as hell hate teaching.”
For the first time, Olsen smiled. Ruefully.
“Tell me more about yourself,” said Benton.
Olsen did. He kept the detail sparse.
“You know Alan Ball?” asked Benton.
“Sure, I know Alan.”
“What do you think of him?”
“Alan’s got a fine mind. Always makes a good contribution. I don’t often agree with him. His outlook is probably more in keeping with where you’re coming from. I heard you’ve got him down for national security advisor.”
Benton didn’t respond to that.
“I understand you’re announcing some nominations tomorrow.”
“The economic team. The security posts are taking a little longer.”
“Well, I’m sure Alan will do a fine job.” Olsen took another sip of his scotch.
“Can I top you up?” said Benton. “Go ahead. Do it yourself.”
Olsen got up and poured himself more whiskey. Benton watched him.
“You ever read Machiavelli?” asked the senator.
“Sure,” said Olsen, sitting down. “When I was a freshman.”
“What happens if I surround myself with people who all think like me?”
“You’ll probably have very harmonious meetings.”
The senator laughed. “Good answer.”
Olsen put down his glass. “Senator, I think the secretary of state you’re looking for—if you asked me here to get my opinion, if that’s what this is about—is someone who’s going to be content to see this country play a largely reactive role. My
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