The Candidate
The night before, he spoke to his wife about it.
‘Everyone I’ve spoken to thinks it’s a terrific idea,’ he said.
‘I know. It is.’
‘Some say it’s too radical to get any traction, but others say it’s an idea whose time has come.’
‘I know, Sweetie.’
‘Some reckon it’s just wild enough to work. Some – good friends who know they can be honest with me but I suspect of flattery – tell me it can’t fail. That it will make history.’
‘Oh, it will.’ She was filing her nails.
‘The thing is, I’ve spoken to a lot of people about this, and not one said don’t do it. “What have you got to lose?” they say. Jack said to me, “What’s the worst thing that can happen? That they’ll laugh at you? They won’t. They’ll respect you. And at the very least you will have given them something to think about. You will perhaps have planted a seed.” But I don’t know...’ His voice trailed off.
She put down her nail file and looked at him. Her eyes were soft. Loving. Worried. Confident.
‘We’ve had this conversation every night for months,’ she said. ‘You know my thoughts. It’s a noble thing you’re doing. Quite possibly a brilliant one. You’ve got a lot of support. And in any case, you’re committed now. You’ve already crossed the Rubicon. So why worry?’
He lifted his head. ‘Caesar didn’t cross the Rubicon alone, you know,’ he said. ‘He had an army with him.’
‘I know.’ She smiled
‘The one thing I won’t have.’
‘I know,’ she said, and her smile was a cheeky grin. ‘I was being ironic.’
****
He stood at the podium. The crowd was larger than he’d anticipated, with a lot more media than he’d expected. The air was thick, the buzz of people talking intruded on his nervous thoughts, and the lights made him hot. He lifted his hands, and silence fell like a curtain. That was a good start. A few people even put away their telephones, and that was an even better start, he felt. Quite a few held their phones up towards him, though, ready to record this moment for posterity. He hoped history would be kind to him.
‘I’m a simple man,’ he said. ‘I’ve spent my life building bridges.’ This was true. He was in fact recognised as an expert in bridge design and construction worldwide. He’d made hundreds of them in all parts of the globe, and he’d made a lot of money along the way. Enough to fund this campaign.
‘The thing about bridges is,’ he continued, ‘they are a means of communicating between two different points. Riverbanks, valley slopes, gorge walls, rail crossings, whatever. Wherever a bridge is, it brings two formerly separate, discrete places – points of view – together. There are a lot of ways a bridge can be constructed. Some, like suspension bridges, require equally strong and deeply anchored piers on either side of the span. In some, like arch bridges, the strength is in the structure below the span, holding it up. And in some, like the box girder bridge, the strength is the deck itself – the part that also forms the connection between the two opposite sides. Today, I wish to offer myself as the box girder bridge this country needs.’
There, it was out. Not that it wasn’t the world’s worst kept secret anyway – half the country knew he was going to run. That accounted for the media presence, he supposed. Still, he had a surprise or two for them yet.
‘I intend to run on a unique platform. To build the bridge that nobody expected. Indeed, to build many bridges of the same design. A bridge that I call Peace.’
A few interested looks from the media, a lot of approving looks from friends and supporters who’d known what was coming. A relieved, reassuring smile from his wife.
‘You may have noticed,’ he continued, ‘that no candidate in years – decades, generations – has ever mentioned peace as a goal. Many have suggested or outright vowed that this country of ours would somehow gain the upper hand over our neighbours, and over some who are not our neighbours but whom we have designated competitors or enemies. They have pledged large sums to “defence”. They have paid homage to our numerous wars, past and present, and they have honoured the many men and women – children, really – who have fought those wars. But they have never, in my lifetime, made so much as a passing reference to peace as a personal, national or global objective.
‘I stand before you to break that taboo. If elected, my efforts will be primarily directed to building bridges between our great nation and the other nations with whom we share this globe. I happen to believe that economics, politics and trade are not and should never be regarded as zero sum games. The notion that the only way we can win is for our brothers and sisters elsewhere to lose is a diabolical premise. It’s like saying the only way we can cross the river is to tear down the opposite bank and use the debris as our stepping stones. It is a bridge to war. I embrace the belief that when we help our neighbours grow and prosper, we grow and prosper too.
‘I stand on a platform of peace, co-operation, mutual respect and assistance, and that platform will inform every one of my policies. The money that we currently pour in endless streams into what we so egregiously misname defence, will be put to peaceful uses. Education, healthcare, building. Helping our neighbours to learn and advance, and to share in our good fortune so that we may share in theirs.
‘Stand with me and we can change the world.’
The applause was thunderous. Like a stone tossed into a pond, the ripples spread quickly to even the furthest reaches. He was, for a time, the man of the moment. A wave of hope swept the country, and then the world. If one man can believe in peace, why can’t we all?
Calculations were made as to the true cost of making war and avoiding peace. Opinions about the nature of our neighbours and those we have historically hated and feared were debated and reformed. The idea that peace is not impossible took hold – no thanks to the media, who sneered at the candidate as haughtily as the incumbents and their opposition. They derided him as a dreamer, a child, a madman and a dangerous threat to the world order.
And then came Election Day.
He was beaten by the candidate who promised full employment. Also by the candidate who promised to upgrade healthcare, increase funding for education, and reduce taxes. Also by the candidate who promised that ours would be the first nation on earth to establish a permanent colony on Mars.
In the wash-up after the election, it was widely agreed that he’d lost because his campaign platform had just been too unrealistic.
‘Everyone I’ve spoken to thinks it’s a terrific idea,’ he said.
‘I know. It is.’
‘Some say it’s too radical to get any traction, but others say it’s an idea whose time has come.’
‘I know, Sweetie.’
‘Some reckon it’s just wild enough to work. Some – good friends who know they can be honest with me but I suspect of flattery – tell me it can’t fail. That it will make history.’
‘Oh, it will.’ She was filing her nails.
‘The thing is, I’ve spoken to a lot of people about this, and not one said don’t do it. “What have you got to lose?” they say. Jack said to me, “What’s the worst thing that can happen? That they’ll laugh at you? They won’t. They’ll respect you. And at the very least you will have given them something to think about. You will perhaps have planted a seed.” But I don’t know...’ His voice trailed off.
She put down her nail file and looked at him. Her eyes were soft. Loving. Worried. Confident.
‘We’ve had this conversation every night for months,’ she said. ‘You know my thoughts. It’s a noble thing you’re doing. Quite possibly a brilliant one. You’ve got a lot of support. And in any case, you’re committed now. You’ve already crossed the Rubicon. So why worry?’
He lifted his head. ‘Caesar didn’t cross the Rubicon alone, you know,’ he said. ‘He had an army with him.’
‘I know.’ She smiled
‘The one thing I won’t have.’
‘I know,’ she said, and her smile was a cheeky grin. ‘I was being ironic.’
****
He stood at the podium. The crowd was larger than he’d anticipated, with a lot more media than he’d expected. The air was thick, the buzz of people talking intruded on his nervous thoughts, and the lights made him hot. He lifted his hands, and silence fell like a curtain. That was a good start. A few people even put away their telephones, and that was an even better start, he felt. Quite a few held their phones up towards him, though, ready to record this moment for posterity. He hoped history would be kind to him.
‘I’m a simple man,’ he said. ‘I’ve spent my life building bridges.’ This was true. He was in fact recognised as an expert in bridge design and construction worldwide. He’d made hundreds of them in all parts of the globe, and he’d made a lot of money along the way. Enough to fund this campaign.
‘The thing about bridges is,’ he continued, ‘they are a means of communicating between two different points. Riverbanks, valley slopes, gorge walls, rail crossings, whatever. Wherever a bridge is, it brings two formerly separate, discrete places – points of view – together. There are a lot of ways a bridge can be constructed. Some, like suspension bridges, require equally strong and deeply anchored piers on either side of the span. In some, like arch bridges, the strength is in the structure below the span, holding it up. And in some, like the box girder bridge, the strength is the deck itself – the part that also forms the connection between the two opposite sides. Today, I wish to offer myself as the box girder bridge this country needs.’
There, it was out. Not that it wasn’t the world’s worst kept secret anyway – half the country knew he was going to run. That accounted for the media presence, he supposed. Still, he had a surprise or two for them yet.
‘I intend to run on a unique platform. To build the bridge that nobody expected. Indeed, to build many bridges of the same design. A bridge that I call Peace.’
A few interested looks from the media, a lot of approving looks from friends and supporters who’d known what was coming. A relieved, reassuring smile from his wife.
‘You may have noticed,’ he continued, ‘that no candidate in years – decades, generations – has ever mentioned peace as a goal. Many have suggested or outright vowed that this country of ours would somehow gain the upper hand over our neighbours, and over some who are not our neighbours but whom we have designated competitors or enemies. They have pledged large sums to “defence”. They have paid homage to our numerous wars, past and present, and they have honoured the many men and women – children, really – who have fought those wars. But they have never, in my lifetime, made so much as a passing reference to peace as a personal, national or global objective.
‘I stand before you to break that taboo. If elected, my efforts will be primarily directed to building bridges between our great nation and the other nations with whom we share this globe. I happen to believe that economics, politics and trade are not and should never be regarded as zero sum games. The notion that the only way we can win is for our brothers and sisters elsewhere to lose is a diabolical premise. It’s like saying the only way we can cross the river is to tear down the opposite bank and use the debris as our stepping stones. It is a bridge to war. I embrace the belief that when we help our neighbours grow and prosper, we grow and prosper too.
‘I stand on a platform of peace, co-operation, mutual respect and assistance, and that platform will inform every one of my policies. The money that we currently pour in endless streams into what we so egregiously misname defence, will be put to peaceful uses. Education, healthcare, building. Helping our neighbours to learn and advance, and to share in our good fortune so that we may share in theirs.
‘Stand with me and we can change the world.’
The applause was thunderous. Like a stone tossed into a pond, the ripples spread quickly to even the furthest reaches. He was, for a time, the man of the moment. A wave of hope swept the country, and then the world. If one man can believe in peace, why can’t we all?
Calculations were made as to the true cost of making war and avoiding peace. Opinions about the nature of our neighbours and those we have historically hated and feared were debated and reformed. The idea that peace is not impossible took hold – no thanks to the media, who sneered at the candidate as haughtily as the incumbents and their opposition. They derided him as a dreamer, a child, a madman and a dangerous threat to the world order.
And then came Election Day.
He was beaten by the candidate who promised full employment. Also by the candidate who promised to upgrade healthcare, increase funding for education, and reduce taxes. Also by the candidate who promised that ours would be the first nation on earth to establish a permanent colony on Mars.
In the wash-up after the election, it was widely agreed that he’d lost because his campaign platform had just been too unrealistic.