A WEEK LATER, the inspector general’s office called me in for questioning. I wound my way from the E Ring to the C Ring, where two guys waited for me in a room with a conference table. Both were civilians and had that tightly wound, self-important “I’m an investigator” air about them—dark suits, white shirts, pagers on their belts. One was dark-haired and heavyset. The other was thin and wiry. The skinny one introduced himself as a lawyer.
We all sat down at the conference table. A microcassette recorder sat in the center of the table. The big guy reached forward to switch it on, and a quiet hiss spun up from the table. Then he read me my rights.
My rights. That immediately pissed me off. Not because they did it—I knew they had to, and expected it—but because I was being read my rights over unsubstantiated allegations reported in the media. As though I was a criminal suspect. My anger might have passed, but then the suits started treating me like a criminal suspect.
“We’ve looked at tapes of your speeches,” the big guy said. “What do you mean the real enemy of this country is Satan? Who authorized you to wear your uniform while giving these speeches?”
Then Skinny chimed in: “Did you have your JAG review your planned speaking activities?” He meant the judge advocate general, or command attorney, at the JFK Special Warfare Center and School where I had served at the time of my talks.
The interrogation, as I quickly came to think of it, went on for two hours. The big guy kept worrying with the cassette recorder, checking it to be sure the tape was still documenting my evil deeds. I tried not to let my frustration show, but I’m not sure I did a very good job of it.
Finally, Skinny said, “That’s all we have for now. We’re going to go down to Bragg and speak to some people. We’re also going to talk with people at those places where you spoke. We’ll contact you when we’re ready to talk to you again.”
I was dismissed.
On October 28, I watched from the secretaries’ office as President Bush held a Rose Garden news conference. He had just returned from a trip to Asia and Indonesia, and was set that night to meet with Muslim leaders at an Iftaar dinner, a breaking of the fast during the Islamic holy month of Ramadan. During the press conference, the president called on reporter Tom Hamburger.
“I wondered if you could tell us your reaction when you encountered Muslim leaders in Indonesia,” Hamburger said. “I understand that some of them brought up specific comments made by General Boykin—”
“Yes, they did,” the President said.
Hamburger continued: “I wondered if you would address those comments and whether you think that General Boykin ought to be disciplined or resign.”
The President didn’t answer that last question. Instead, he said three Muslim leaders he met with wanted to know why Americans think Muslims are terrorists.
“My answer was, it’s not what Americans think,” President Bush said. “Americans think terrorists are evil people who have hijacked a great religion. That’s why Mr. Boykin’s comments were—General Boykin’s comments don’t reflect the administration’s comments. And by the way, there’s an IG investigation going on inside the Defense Department now about that. He doesn’t reflect my point of view, or the view of this administration.”
I was crushed. How could my commander-in-chief say that to the whole world without first finding out the truth? And how could he spin the IG investigation to make it look like the administration was taking action against me? I was the one who requested the investigation.
“Our war is not against the Muslim faith . . . ,” the President continued. “We welcome Muslims in our country. In America, we love the fact that we are a society in which people can pray openly—or not pray at all, for that matter.”
I had defended that right for more than three decades. I had defended Muslims against their enemies and persecutors in two different countries. And I never said or implied that America was against the Muslim faith. Now the President of the United States was reinforcing the idea that I had.
That moment was the lowest of my Army career.