Backstabbing for Beginners

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1

My name is Michael Sullivan

and I have a story...

I think you're gonna want to hear.

Michael Sullivan?

How long have you been

a lobbyist at Belasquian Banks?

Two years.

A lot of strategy, research and support.

That's a good job.

You're not happy there?

No, I just... I don't want to wake up

when I'm 40 and discover

the only thing I've contributed

to the world is tax shelters,

sweatshops, and holes in the ozone.

You're an idealist?

You know, for as long as I can remember

I've wanted to be a diplomat.

I want to make a difference in the world.

Your father was a diplomat.

- Yeah, US State Department, he...

- Lebanon. 1983.

I'm sorry for your loss.

My father passed away

when I was little.

He was killed in the bombing

of the US Embassy in Beirut

when I was five years old.

One of my earliest memories

is my father telling stories

about the founding of the United Nations.

We'll find a way to end war.

He made it sound like modern day knights

sitting around the Round Table.

I wanted to follow in his footsteps.

By the fall of 2002,

I had applied for a job

at the United Nations four times.

- Hey!

- Uncle Michael!

My sister says it's because

foreign service is in our family legacy.

- Hey little brother, how are ya?

- Hey, good.

- Sorry I'm late.

- You look good.

And just like my mother,

she married a guy she met

while interning at the UN.

So I got you something small,

but something else is on its way, okay?

- Hey, Trevor.

- Hey.

- Nice cake, Lily. Got enough Danish flags?

- Yeah, yeah.

Well, did you hear anything?

No. I'll hear tomorrow.

But how'd it feel?

Good?

No, I was too nervous.

Oh, well, it's their loss.

I'm sure you'll get it.

You've been working so hard for this.

Yeah.

And it's somebody's birthday,

so should we do cake?

Yes!

Happy Birthday to you

Happy Birthday dear Kate

Best candidates keep getting

hired away by f***ing hedge funds.

Michael Sullivan.

I knew his father.

Danish passport.

His mother's side,

but he's only 24 years old.

He'll do.

I thought I would start

with some entry-level assignment.

Instead I got a dream job.

Special Assistant

to the Under-Secretary-General...

running the largest humanitarian program

in the United Nations' history.

I couldn't believe my luck.

All I kept thinking was,

"Don't f*** this up. "

The program is called

Oil-for-Food.

It's created in 1995

by Security Council resolution 986,

which has stated that the UN

would manage the sale of Iraqi oil

and use the profits to provide

humanitarian relief in the country

to alleviate the hardship.

Which basically means that our office

is in charge of trying to feed

an entire nation,

over 20 million people.

You have a little reading to catch up on.

We are woefully behind schedule

on our funding status report

to the Security Council.

Your immediate task will be

to help facilitate its completion.

Your predecessor was due to brief

the undersecretary tomorrow.

Tomorrow?

What happened to him?

A car accident in Iraq.

Jesus Christ! Is he all right?

No, he didn't make it.

A bullet-point summary will do.

Pasha will be in his office at nine.

Got a couple of minutes, Michael?

Justin Cutter, Central Intelligence.

Really?

Yeah. We come in all shapes and sizes.

Okay, can I help you with something?

Listen, we think Oil-for-Food

is being gamed for private gain

by a bad guy or bad guys unknown.

Possibly with help from the inside,

- which is where you are, so...

- Look, I... I just got this job.

I'm not gonna... I'm not gonna spy for you.

Oh, God, no.

No, no, leave that to the professionals.

I don't want you to do anything

that makes you uncomfortable, Michael.

Just keep your eyes and ears open,

that's all.

For God and Country.

I was aware going in

that the Oil-for-Food program

had become something

of a political football.

The program budget

was 10 billion dollars a year.

The entire rest of the UN

operational budget was only two.

There was crazy money to be had.

Special interests circling like buzzards.

The program was simple.

Because of the economic sanctions imposed

against Saddam Hussein

after the first Gulf War,

Iraq's economy had crashed.

People were starving and dying

from a lack of basic medicine and staples.

The Oil-for-Food program

was designed to provide Iraqi citizens

with what they needed to survive.

While at the same time, preventing Saddam

from developing his alleged

weapons of mass destruction.

Under UN supervision,

Iraqi oil was being sold at market prices

to pay for humanitarian aid.

Our job was to keep it funded

by making sure everything

went by the book.

I'm here to present the summary.

He'll be with you in a minute.

...this f***ing regime!

Unbelievable.

Yes, I sorted it.

There's always a solution.

No, we chartered

a load of taxis, filled them.

That should last the outlying villages

till we get the trucks back.

You call this a summary?

F***ing War and Peace.

Sorry, sir, I was trying to be thorough.

Thorough?

Yes, sir.

F***.

Well, just give me the highlights, kid.

Otherwise we'll be here till spring thaw.

Yes. We have,

decreased the malnutrition rate,

reduced child mortality.

We've also,

made big strides

in access to water and electricity.

There are, however, some,

systemic distribution failures,

particularly in the North.

The Kurds are getting shorted,

wheat, milk, diesel fuel

to the benefit of Tikrit,

who are getting seemingly

more than their fair share.

Saddam's hometown, what a surprise.

Yeah.

There are also all these

after service fees, in the contracts.

I'm pretty sure they're kickbacks.

If you wanna take a look,

I highlighted and aggregated them

on page 26 to 29.

It's a lot of money, sir.

In some places it's as much as 30 percent.

Sit.

Kid.

Sit down!

The first rule of diplomacy

is that the truth is not a matter of fact,

it's a matter of consensus.

The consensus right now

is that the sanctions are here to stay.

The Americans and the British

will never lift them,

which means... that if you want

the people of Iraq to survive,

we have to keep Oil-for-Food running.

- Even with all its warts and flaws.

- Sir, you do not need to...

The second rule

is to keep your mouth shut and listen.

Then if it suits, you can talk.

With discretion.

Otherwise, keeping your cards

close to your vest.

Yeah.

Your father was a good man.

You should be so lucky

as to have his heart.

Yeah, so I've been told.

We crossed paths a couple of times.

Must have been '79, '80.

What a tragedy.

Beirut.

F***. I'm sorry.

That must have been hard,

a boy growing up without a father.

It was my normal.

I had my cry.

Good.

Fix your summary.

Go home and pack.

We leave for Baghdad on the red-eye.

What? You have other plans?

No, I don't.

Of course not.

Thank you.

I was swept up

in the romance of it.

I mean, this is what I wanted:

high adventure and a worthy cause.

It's like Baghdad was my Casablanca.

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