How much better our world would be if more politicians followed the Masterclass in Statesmanship as epitomized by George H. W. Bush.
—Sir John Major
What was it about George Herbert Walker Bush that made him such an effective leader?
For that matter, what is the definition of “leadership”?
Former White House staffer Roman Popadiuk tried to answer that question in his book The Leadership of George Bush.1 He began by making this observation:
“It is debatable whether or not leadership can be taught. Many believe it is an innate quality or somehow a combination of natural ability and conscious development. Irrespective of that debate, one can learn much from observing the qualities and characteristics of successful leaders in whatever field they occupy. This is particularly true of George Bush, whose style and personal demeanor serve to underscore that leadership is a fusion of character and experience, with character being at the forefront.”
Lucky for us, some of the people who worked with President Bush closely over the years—especially when he was President—gave us their insights.
We’ll start with some of his peers on the world stage:
John Major, former prime minister of the United Kingdom:
The older I get, and the more politics I see, the more I miss President George H. W. Bush.
In many ways, George was the antithesis of the stereotypical politician. He could be shy; diffident; was a good listener; and spoke only when he had views worth sharing. He was also decent, wise, incorruptible, and had a gift for seeing the best—or, at least, finding some good—even in the worst of people.
George found his personal relationships of great strength, and none more so than the force of nature that was Barbara Bush. Forever watching George’s back and poised to protect him from all comers, Barbara had an acute antenna for political danger well before it materialized.
In government, George gathered real talent around him. His foreign policy team of Jim Baker as secretary of state and Brent Scowcroft as national security adviser was the most formidably impressive I have ever known, and the friendship of the three remained close and lifelong.
But what of George Bush the man? He was a patrician with the common touch. It is inconceivable that he would ever be unkind—most especially to those who served him, or who were in no position to answer back. His God, to him, was real—and he strove to maintain the Christian standards that were the framework of his life. He had more friends—real friends, not merely acquaintances—than anyone I knew. In good times he was the first to praise; in bad, the first to console; and at all times he kept in touch. He was, without doubt, a world-class user of the telephone.
Nonetheless, George was no paragon. Few of us are, especially those who get to be President of the United States. But he did not possess the “black arts” that are so commonly assumed to be in the armory of every politician and, even had he done so, his character and conscience would have always dissuaded him from deploying them.
He loved gossip—and had a great sense of the absurd. Immensely competitive in all things, he would drive his cigarette boat at great speed around the waters of Kennebunkport, with the Secret Service trailing in his wake. “What if they lose you?” I asked, as yet another wave bounced me out of my seat.
Don’t worry. It’ll be reported and they’ll get a faster boat. Then we can have even more fun!
We once met up in the Middle East—long after we had both left office—and were invited into the desert for a tented lunch with a member of the ruling family who had a passion for the game of boules.2
Before the game began, our respective ambassadors whispered in our ears that our host was “expected” to win. The heck with that, proclaimed George.
Our host came in third.
There was an audible intake of breath from those around us. “Aha!” our host exclaimed. “You never told me you were both star players. That’s the best game I’ve ever had.” George beamed. I beamed. Our host beamed, before leading us both arm in arm for some more refreshments.
There are so many other memories of our time together, all of which I will cherish for the rest of my days.
What are the “life lessons” I learned from George H. W. Bush?
I learned that it was possible to be the most powerful politician on the planet, without ever once abusing that power to impress or influence others. I learned that—through his modesty, wisdom, empathy, infectious sense of mischief, and deep-down decency—I had found a friend for life.
How much better our world would be if more politicians followed the Masterclass in Statesmanship as epitomized by George H. W. Bush.
Brian Mulroney, former prime minister of Canada:
George Bush was truly a great international leader. The day after the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait, he invited me to Washington, DC, to join him for dinner in the family quarters of the White House. Present were Barbara; National Security Adviser General Brent Scowcroft; Deputy Secretary of State Larry Eagleburger; my chief of staff, Stanley Hartt; the Canadian ambassador to Washington, Derek Burney; and me, to whom President Bush handed the raw CIA intelligence report just received from Baghdad.
This was a very alarming situation, but the President discussed options in a thoughtful and careful manner. Questions raised and resolved included: Immediate response? Should we seek a UN Security Council resolution to ensure the creation of a strong coalition? Size of military force to be raised? And when to counterattack?
In a discussion of the role of our allies, I urged that he call President Mitterrand first. As head of America’s oldest ally in Europe, it would be vital for him to feel he was a trusted and important player in what was to become a vast military and diplomatic operation. I further indicated that he should reach Mitterrand in Paris at the start of business the next day because Mitterrand would know—and greatly appreciate—that President Bush had gotten up at 3:00 a.m. Washington time to call.
The President thought for a moment, then picked up the phone that was anchored just under the dining room table to his right. Please awaken me at 3:00 a.m. and put me through to President Mitterrand at Élysée Palace at 9:00 a.m. Paris time, he told the White House operator.
He did precisely that and Mitterrand, deeply appreciative of the fact that he was the first European leader approached, turned out to be one of our most supportive allies from beginning to end.
I mention this only to indicate the Bush approach to important matters: careful planning, consideration of allies, respect for international institutions, and a sensitive understanding of human relations. To him, no detail was unimportant in the successful prosecution of a historic military operation.
Which, under his leadership, the first Gulf War turned out to be.
And now a few stories from some of his staff who witnessed the President at key decision-making moments—moments that truly defined his character.
In late 1989, the relationship between the United States and Panama was deteriorating at a rapid pace. The Panamanian de facto leader, General Manuel Noriega, was wanted in the United States for racketeering and drug trafficking; he had overturned by brute force a democratic election to stay in power; and he was threatening Americans who lived in Panama, including our military serving in the Panama Canal Zone.
The “last straw” for President George Bush was the death of a Marine and the harassment of several other Americans. As the President wrote in his diary on December 17:
Last night a young Marine was killed in Panama. Hectored by blockade guards, the Marine and his three companions tried to get away from a roadblock, but they had gotten lost, and they were shot at. The Panamanians claim that the Marines fired on them, which was bull because none of them had any ammunition or guns.
Shortly after that a Navy lieutenant and his wife were taken in by the same check point people and harassed for 30 minutes. He was kicked and brutalized, kicked in the groin. A day or so before that, the Panamanians declared war on the United States, and they installed Manuel Noriega as the maximum leader…
We’ll turn the story over to Andy Card, who was then deputy White House chief of staff:
On December 17 there was an Oval Office meeting with Secretary of State James Baker; Secretary of Defense Dick Cheney; National Security Adviser Brent Scowcroft and his deputy, Bob Gates; and the director of operations for the Joint Chiefs, Lieutenant General Thomas Kelly.
And me. As deputy chief of staff, my job was putting up the easel and displaying the photos and charts provided by the CIA and the military.
At issue: Should we go to war with Panama?
After much discussion, Jim Baker stood up and said to the President that he had all the information available, and it was his decision to make. Baker then walked out of the room. It was an awkward moment as everyone else then walked out too.
I was the only one in the room with the President as I was picking up documents and photos from the floor. The President got up and went to sit at the desk and closed his eyes with his hands folded. I am fairly sure he was praying.
He opened his eyes, looking at me but really right through me, and then said:
I am making a decision that will cost young men their lives.
He then got up and walked out the door to the Rose Garden.
As I continued cleaning up the Oval Office, I thought to myself: “I just watched the President make a presidential decision.”
The moment left a lasting impression on me. He was decisive and sure, but with tremendous empathy for those who would have to implement that decision and with concern for the unintended consequences.
The war ended fairly quickly, with Noriega surrendering to American forces on January 3 (after hiding out in the Vatican embassy for about ten days), but not until twenty-three of our soldiers died.
In January the President was making a trip to Cincinnati to highlight an education program for disadvantaged youth at Taft High School. Prior to any trip, I would always ask for a summary of letters that had been sent to the President from zip codes in which the President was to travel. The idea was to determine if there were any issues of which we should be aware and what was on people’s minds in that area of the country.
I noticed one letter in the Cincinnati zip code sent by a woman, Sandra Rouse, who wanted to meet with the President to call him a murderer to his face because he killed her son. Her son was Private First Class James Markwell, killed in Panama.
When I followed up, I discovered that a letter had been sent from the President to Mrs. Rouse, as he wrote the families of any soldiers who died.
Just moments after I found this letter, my pager went off. The President needed me in the Oval Office.
As he was giving me instructions for a new task, he noticed I was troubled. He stopped the conversation and asked what was bothering me. I told him about the letter.
He immediately said he would like to meet with her.
Brent Scowcroft was not happy when he found out I had mentioned the letter to the President. He insisted the President should not meet with a woman who wanted to call him a murderer to his face.
Nevertheless, the meeting was arranged.
In Cincinnati, while the President was giving his speech at Taft High School, Marlin Fitzwater and I went to the classroom where Mrs. Rouse; her husband, William Rouse, who was James’s stepfather; and James’s brother Brandon and sister Dawn were waiting.
When we walked into the room, Mrs. Rouse verbally ripped me apart and was very angry. Shortly thereafter, the Secret Service told me the President was on his way. I stepped out of the room to warn him this was not going to be easy.
When the President entered the room, Mrs. Rouse was visibly upset and stepped up to only about six inches from him before saying: “You murdered my son.” The President just stood there and let her speak. When she was done, he said:
Your son was a hero. I could not do my job if not for people like your son. I want to hear all about him.
The President then talked to the stepfather, the brother and the sister, and then the mother again and listened to their stories.
Everybody was crying.
The mother then took an envelope out of her purse, which she gave the President. He put it in the inside pocket of his jacket, hugged everyone, and left.
Once in the limousine, he pulled out the envelope from his suit pocket. There was an essay and a letter. The essay was written when James was fifteen: “When I grow up, I want to be a soldier and fight for my country.”
The letter was written to his family shortly before he died, as he tried to prepare them for the worst: “Remember I joined the army to serve my country and to ensure that you are free to do what you want and live your lives freely. But most of all don’t forget that the Army was my choice, something that I wanted to do.”
There were tears in the President’s eyes.
It took incredible courage for the President of the United States to walk into that classroom to face a family who swore they hated him. But he knew what they were feeling. And he knew they needed their son’s commander in chief to let them cry on his shoulder.
What makes a leader? Empathy. And the courage to show it.
As a footnote to Andy’s story, I found a letter that President Bush wrote his mother, his five children, his five siblings, and several uncles about this meeting with the mother of a fallen solider. Here are parts of his letter:
At our meeting Mrs. Rouse was courageous and strong; her faith in God sustaining her. She cried. I put my arm around her shoulder.
I thought—I sent her son into this battle and here she is telling me with love about her son and what he stood for. She said, “You did the right thing.”
PFC Markwell died, I’m told, as he attended to a wounded man. Yes, he was taught to kill and to save…
I just wanted to share this with the family… When I mourn our dead and wounded, when I think of their families and loved ones, I also think of the courage of our troops.
I expect I’ll remember PFC James W. Markwell as long as I live. I’ll remember a loving mother’s grief but also her pride in one young, courageous, and patriotic soldier.
Marlin Fitzwater, White House press secretary:
The history of President George H. W. Bush is replete with stories of courage and character—in war as a Navy pilot in the Pacific; as an oil executive who spent hours in the air looking for a lost oil rig; as a father who lost his daughter to leukemia; and as an envoy to China when he could have gone to Paris or London.
Less understood was as President, how he guided the United States and the Soviet Union to the end of the Cold War.
As the White House press secretary, I was lucky to have a front-row seat as the drama unfolded. I was not a decision-maker, but President Bush was great about keeping me in the loop so I could do my job of keeping the press—and therefore the American people—informed the best I could.
My story is really about one key effort, and one very special relationship, in changing the direction of those years. In December 1989, President Bush opened the door at the Malta Summit between himself and Mikhail Gorbachev when two men of courage, compassion, and strength agreed to a new direction for their countries.
President Bush had met the new leader of the Soviet Union a few times during the Reagan administration, though not often enough to establish a personal relationship. But he wanted to because that’s how George Bush does business. So as the new occupant of the Oval Office in 1989, he started calling Gorbachev to talk about issues between our countries, and especially about scheduling their first meeting as leaders.
Meanwhile, the media did not think the President was doing his job when it came to Gorbachev. Gorbachev was making headlines as he toured Europe while our President stayed quiet. The American press corps was clamoring for a summit meeting.
Finally, after several months of dealing with the demands from the reporters, the President called me to the Oval. He wanted to give me some advice on how to handle the situation from the White House press room podium.
Only Baker and Scowcroft know this, but I want to tell you that Gorbachev and I have agreed to a summit meeting in December. No one else knows. And I have told President Gorbachev that we will not leak this meeting to the press. I just wanted you to know so you could say the right thing.
This was typical George Bush. He had taken charge of arranging for a summit, deciding the agenda, and working directly with President Gorbachev. This said a lot about the courage and independence of the President, and it sent a message to staff that George Bush was running the show, knew what he wanted, and put a high value on loyalty. These qualities became part of the Bush presidency, known to everyone.
It soon became clear to President Bush that Gorbachev was very loyal to his country. But Gorbachev also knew his country needed economic help. As the months passed, and the two men had further discussions about their economic and political needs, President Bush—with Baker and Scowcroft—started to develop ideas about how the US should relate to the Soviet Union, and how the two countries could work together while still respecting their political differences.
After many internal discussions, President Bush asked Secretary Baker and the State Department team to put together a list of items that could form the basis for the President’s opening statement at the Malta Summit. They did, and it looked very good, outlining the steps that America could consider in helping the Soviet Union’s economy. But that would be a big step, and a big risk, in helping Russia after seventy years of cold war.
Nevertheless, the President wanted to do it. High risk always requires courage. He wanted to consider his words carefully.
As the President and his staff boarded Air Force One for Malta, there was still an ache in his mind that something wasn’t quite what he wanted. So about halfway across the ocean, he asked General Scowcroft, Chief of Staff Sununu, myself, and about a half dozen others regardless of rank or position to join him in the plane’s conference room.
The State Department contingent was meeting elsewhere on the plane, and the President decided not to interrupt them. I actually think he wanted to hear reactions to his remarks by people not directly involved.
He started by asking this question: Do you all believe in President Gorbachev? The President called on Brent for a first opinion, which put the staff at ease. The general said yes. Then the President went around the room asking for opinions. In one way or another, everyone there said yes.
He said that if we believe in Gorbachev, why are these talking points so conditional? Why don’t we just say we’re going to do it?
Then the President started reading, speaking as if talking to Gorbachev.
What’s wrong with saying I’m going to waive Jackson-Vanik.3 Let’s not be negative. I want to be positive. I want to do it, so let’s say it. I propose we start NOW to negotiate a trade agreement.
I want you to be an observer at GATT.4
I want to be very frank in our talks. No hidden agenda.
The more you can intersect with the OECD the better—the better to see how free market economies work.5 After you get some of these things, then you can get Most Favored Nation status.
Here’s a list of 20 refuseniks,6 96 divided families. Let’s have a goal of getting all these contentious cases cleared up by the 1990 Summit. And let’s set a date for our next summit.
On almost every one of these points, the President took his pen and crossed out the “conditional” words. His main purpose was clear: To help bring Mr. Gorbachev into the world economy. And to help the people of the Soviet Union. And to do it NOW.
When we arrived in Malta, the President met with Secretary Baker and his team. He presented the exact same words to this group. These were our foreign policy experts, and I think they were surprised by the directness of the ideas. But they approved.
The next morning, at the opening of the summit, Gorbachev said he wanted to first voice a concern about the term “Western values,” a term that some people and press used in discussing their differences with Eastern Bloc countries.7 Gorbachev said this term was offensive to his people. Secretary Baker asked if “democratic values” would be a better term. Gorbachev considered it, and said he thought it would. The first bump in the road had been resolved.
Then President Bush asked if he could go first in opening remarks. Gorbachev agreed. The President gave his presentation for the third time in two days.
When he finished, there was silence in the room as everyone waited for Gorbachev’s reaction. Gorbachev said nothing at first. Then he pushed his chair back from the table and looked at the floor. Then he looked forward, put his hands on the table, and said, “That is exactly what I wanted to hear.”
Everyone relaxed. And the summit began in earnest.
The next morning, Gorbachev began with this sentence: “The Soviet Union no longer regards the United States as an adversary.”
It was the beginning of the end of the Cold War, as orchestrated by George H. W. Bush.
Robert Gates, former secretary of defense and head of the CIA:
It was my great good fortune to serve as deputy national security adviser to President Bush during the historically momentous years 1989–1991. I spent time with him almost every day during those years. I also saw him often in his post-presidential years, especially when I was dean of the Bush School8 and president of Texas A&M University, the site of his presidential library and museum.9 Every day I was around him was a learning experience, and I am happy to recount a few of those many lessons.
I learned from him the importance of loyalty, both up and down. Just as I watched him be deeply loyal to Ronald Reagan for eight years, I saw him be just as loyal to those working for him. Everyone who worked closely with him experienced it. In 1991, when my confirmation hearing to become director of Central Intelligence ran into rough water, I learned that several senior White House advisers were urging President Bush to pull the plug on my nomination. But the President stood by me and, in ways small and large, public and private, made his firm support known to all who mattered—and especially to me. At one point, Senate Minority Leader Bob Dole told the President I might not have the votes to get confirmed. Bush replied that that would be the country’s loss but his gain because then he could keep me by his side at the White House. Ultimately, I was confirmed by a comfortable margin thanks to the President’s steadfast support—his loyalty to me.
He showed everyone that you could have the weight of the world on your shoulders and still have a great sense of humor. The President was fun to work for. He loved jokes, including practical jokes—even when played on him—and could give as well as he got. Garry Trudeau’s Doonesbury comic strip often starred the President’s invisible other self—“President Skippy”—represented in the strip simply with an asterisk. One morning, when the President stepped out of the Oval Office during a meeting with John Sununu, Brent Scowcroft, and me, we had a photographer come in and take a picture of the three of us gesturing vigorously at an empty presidential chair. We later presented a framed copy of the photo (which we all had signed) to him inscribed, “To President Skippy, from the gang that knows you best.” He smiled, and then turned the tables on us. He faked a look of horror and, framed photo in hand, suddenly got up, then strode out of the Oval Office and down to the press room to show them the photo, declaring there was a plot against him in the White House. I should add his unannounced appearance nearly provoked a press riot.
He then blamed the entire thing on a completely innocent Marlin Fitzwater, his press secretary. Our prank became his joke on us.
There were many other things I learned from President Bush, but three major ones will have to do:
The first is the importance of a leader having vision—the ability to see a better, different future and the equally important ability to bring that vision to reality.
President Bush was often accused of not having “the vision thing.” Far from it. Just ask any disabled person who has benefited from his 1990 Americans with Disabilities Act or consider the impact on the environment of the 1990 Clean Air Act. But my favorite example of his vision was the peaceful reunification of Germany. The Bush administration rightfully gets credit for bringing about reunification, but it was Bush personally—not his advisers—who was the moving force.
On September 18, 1989, I flew with him to Helena, Montana, where he celebrated the state’s centenary. He later gave a press conference at the statehouse, where he was asked whether he thought a reunified Germany would be a stabilizing or destabilizing force in Europe. He responded:
If that was worked out between the Germanys, I do not think we should view that as bad for Western interests. I think there’s been a dramatic change in post–World War II Germany. And so, I don’t fear it… I think there is in some quarters a feeling—well, a reunified Germany would be detrimental to the peace of Europe, of Western Europe, some way, and I don’t accept that at all. Simply don’t.
After his statement, I immediately called Brent and asked him if the administration had a position on German reunification. He said no, the bureaucracy was tied up in knots over the issue. He then wondered why I asked, and I replied, “Well, if we didn’t have a policy on reunification before, we have one now—the President just announced he’s all for it.” That was nearly two months before the Berlin Wall came down, and I learned a powerful lesson about both vision and bold leadership.
A second big lesson I learned from President Bush came through observing how he treated people.
In personal relationships, he was oblivious to rank. He was as interested in the lives, families, and well-being of the White House groundskeepers as he was in those of his cabinet members and other world leaders.
He especially was most interested and solicitous if someone had an ill family member. I saw this firsthand when Brent’s wife, Jackie, who had long been in ill health, periodically would be taken to the hospital. Brent worked outrageous hours, often in the office until nine or ten o’clock in the evening. Even when Jackie was in the hospital, Brent wouldn’t leave the office to visit her until the President had left the Oval Office and gone to the residence for the evening. So he and I conspired against Brent. When Jackie was in the hospital, I would surreptitiously let the President know. He then would call Brent about five o’clock and tell him he was headed home for the evening. Brent would make a beeline for the hospital and, once he had gone, I’d sound the all clear, and the President would return to work. Such presidential empathy and caring were familiar experiences for many in the President’s orbit.
I had another, exceptionally moving experience with those qualities of the President. On April 19, 1989, a gun turret on the battleship USS Iowa exploded, killing forty-seven sailors. I accompanied President Bush in the Marine One helicopter to the memorial service in Norfolk on April 24. On the way, as he was going over his speech, he kept tearing up as he reviewed passages about the lost sailors. At one point, he paused his reading and told me he had once asked President Reagan how he got through emotional passages in speeches. Reagan had said that he just kept practicing the passages over and over. With tears in his eyes, Bush told me, That doesn’t work for me. He was later criticized for rushing through his remarks at the ceremony; I knew from the helicopter ride that that was the only way he could get through the remarks without breaking up.
He cared deeply about people, but especially men and women in uniform. Years later, as secretary of defense in wartime, I very often thought of him and how much he cared when I likewise would weep for the fallen.
There is one more big lesson I learned from George H. W. Bush. In a short biography of Winston Churchill, Paul Johnson wrote that “Churchill wasted an extraordinarily small amount of his time and emotional energy on the meannesses of life: recrimination, shifting blame onto others, malice, revenge seeking, dirty tricks, spreading rumors, harboring grudges, waging vendettas… [T]he absence of hatred left plenty of room for joy in Churchill’s life.”
I saw repeatedly the absence of meanness and hatred in President Bush. And so the biggest lesson he taught me, by his example, was the importance of living a life of service and a life with plenty of room for joy.
Condoleezza Rice, former secretary of state:
As one of Brent Scowcroft’s deputies, I was the young Soviet specialist for President Bush when the extraordinary events of 1989–1991 took place. I was well known in academic circles but not in government ones. I was thirty-four years old.
Imagine my surprise at the Malta Summit when the President called me over to introduce me to Gorbachev. He put his hand on my shoulder, turned to Gorbachev, and said:
This is my Soviet adviser, Condoleezza Rice. She is a professor at Stanford University. She tells me everything I know about the Soviet Union.
Gorbachev mumbled something in Russian like, “I hope she knows a lot.”
But of course the President’s comment wasn’t really meant for Gorbachev. It was meant for all of those people standing around—including US and Soviet government officials who were twice my age. I was a young, Black woman in whom the President was investing great trust and confidence at a critically important time in his presidency. I was grateful that I never had to worry that I might somehow be discounted by others.
There are often questions about how people who look different are treated. We talk about inclusion and empowerment. The very best empowerment that you can give to a young person is to let it be known that you trust them and that everyone else had better do so too.
This was a great act of mentorship for which I will always be grateful. And it allowed me to do an even better job for the President, fully empowered by him. And it was pure George H. W. Bush—understated, elegant, and yet a powerful signal.
John Sununu, White House chief of staff:
As chief of staff to President George H. W. Bush during the collapse of the Soviet Union, I had the privilege of witnessing the power of earned trust in the hands of a strong leader. President Bush demonstrated that personal relationships and credibility, built over a lifetime of fair treatment, integrity, and humility, can be invaluable in achieving success in even the most monumental negotiations.
President Reagan had set the foundation for the demise of the Soviet Union with his strategy of “peace through strength.” When President Bush succeeded Reagan, he recognized that the task of achieving global consensus and ending nuclear confrontation required the committed support and assistance of strong and independent world leaders, including British prime minister Margaret Thatcher; French president François Mitterrand; German chancellor Helmut Kohl; Canadian prime minister Brian Mulroney; and Soviet president Mikhail Gorbachev.
Through decades of public service, President Bush already had earned their respect. They trusted him. And it was that trust that made possible the cooperation that led to the demise of the Soviet Union, the end of the Cold War, and the reunification of Germany.
As President of the United States, it was his responsibility to define and implement a strategy to lead them all to real consensus and, in partnership with them, bring closure to a half century of East-West conflict. George Bush knew that each of these political leaders, and the countries they led, had very different perspectives on how to move forward, with different ideas on what steps should be taken, and even different visions of what the results should be.
It was not going to be easy.
I watched how, over a period of around a year and a half, the President was able to convince them all—individually and collectively and through frequent phone calls, face-to-face meetings, and international conferences—to embark on a strategy that would change the world. He listened to their concerns, answered their questions, found compromises to their conflicts, and patiently moved the process forward.
He convinced Mikhail Gorbachev that it would be better for the Soviet Union and its people to be part of a mutually beneficial world economy.
He convinced Margaret Thatcher and François Mitterrand, leaders of two nations that only a generation before had been devastated in war by Germany, to support the reunification of Germany to create what would become the most powerful nation in Europe.
He convinced Helmut Kohl to accept East Germany as a partner and provide significant economic aid to the former Soviet puppet state to rebuild a unified Germany.
President Bush’s decades of integrity and credibility allowed him to move these powerful leaders in unison toward a common goal. They trusted his tactics and strategy, and most importantly they trusted that he would ensure that they shared the credit for the success of this world-changing effort.
The collapse of the Soviet Union demonstrated the power of earned trust in the hands of a strong leader. George H. W. Bush’s personal relationships and credibility—cultivated over a lifetime of fair treatment, integrity, and humility—were invaluable in achieving monumental negotiations and bringing closure to a half century of nuclear confrontation.
To illustrate the great diversity of George H. W. Bush’s life, we’ll end this chapter with thoughts from two close friends: the first, a story from Senator Alan Simpson; the last, from President Bill Clinton.
Alan Simpson, Republican senator from Wyoming:
I first met my dear friend in 1962. My father, Milward Simpson, was elected to the US Senate, and I accompanied him to Washington, where he was assigned a new office being vacated by one Senator Prescott Bush—George’s father! A life-changer for me.
Before I tell my story, you need to know I have a rather checkered past from my tenure in Washington—I tumbled down from the A social list to the Z list, and never came back up! Most of my wounds were self-inflicted. Some thought I was “thin skinned.” I responded, “You couldn’t find my skin with an electronic microscope!”
Once, in the midst of my miasma, George called early one morning (always early), with country music blaring in the background, and said, I see the media is shooting you pretty full of holes! Actually he said it with more pungency! He chuckled and then said, Why don’t we go to Camp David and have a weekend together?
His popularity rating was then 93 percent; mine was .93 percent.
The media were gathered around as we four—George of course invited my wife, Ann, as well—headed to Marine One.
Now, Al, wave to all your pals over there in the media!
They didn’t wave back.
The next morning, going through all the newspapers and also looking at network television, he said, Ah-ha! This is what I’m looking for! A picture of Barbara, Ann, and George—with his arm and hand on my back.
After a vigorous day of competitive sports, we were having a sauna, and I said, “George, I’m well aware of what you are doing here—you’re salving my recent wounds and here you are at the top of your game, and you reach out to me while I’m tangled up in rich controversy taking my lumps from the Fourth Estate.”10
Yup. There are staff members who told me not to do this. But Al, it’s about friendship and loyalty.
Sound familiar?
We always had a great deal of fun too. One night we four went to see Michael Crawford, singing the songs of Andrew Lloyd Webber. We were singing as we went back to the White House, “Don’t Cry for Me Argentina” and songs from The Phantom and other magic of Webber. A few days later he’s getting hammered by the press for some petty bit of trivia, and suddenly he blurts out, Don’t cry for me Argentina! The press then reported he was surely losing his marbles! I found them to be a rather humorless bunch.
We often shared a fact our mothers taught us that “humor is the universal solvent against the abrasive elements of life.” And so it is! We also compared our beautiful mothers as loving “velvet hammers.”
Any President knows well of “the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.” It goes with those who hold that office. He was a class act—from birth to death.
The history books will—and are—treating him most fairly while noting his most powerful traits: his great competitiveness, character, raw courage, kindness, loyalty, humility, and self-discipline. He was a living vessel of those traits.
Recall that those who travel the high road of humility in Washington, DC, are not bothered by heavy traffic!
When those really tough choices came to his desk, he would say:
It’s the country, it’s not me, or the Democrats, or the Republicans, this is for our country that I fought for.
He had one serious flaw known to all close to him. He loved a good joke—the richer the better—and he’d throw his head back and give that great laugh—but he never could remember a punch line! Ever!
He never hated anyone, and knew well what his mother and my mother both knew: “Hatred corrodes the container it’s carried in.”
His words and presence are always in my mind: What would we do without family and friends?! He lived that.
He also would say, If you have integrity, nothing else matters—and if you don’t have integrity, nothing else matters. Not a day goes by where I don’t think of my old chum. A most comforting thought for me in the remaining time I have on this Old Apple! My life is richer for having shared a portion of it with him.
Bill Clinton, forty-second President of the United States:
My friendship with President George H. W. Bush was one of the great privileges of my life.
His inherent decency and the firm strength of his personal character have become part of his enduring public legacy, but from the first moment I met him, I was also struck by his devotion to his family and how he saw his public life as inextricably connected to the families of others, particularly children and young people.
Maya Angelou famously said, “When people show you who they are, believe them.” George showed me from the start that families and children mattered to him. In the summer of 1983, when I was a young governor, we held the National Governors Association annual meeting in Portland, Maine, and we were all invited to a cookout at then Vice President Bush’s house in the beautiful oceanside town of Kennebunkport. George and Barbara were gracious hosts, but George took it to the next level when Chelsea, who was three years old then, marched up and said she needed to go to the bathroom. The Vice President of the United States took her by the hand and led her there himself.
Nobody who knew George would have been surprised by that. As a young congressman concerned about American families being able to have a decent home, he supported the Fair Housing Act and defended his vote superbly in a speech before members of his conservative—and deeply skeptical—Houston district, in the end getting a standing ovation from the crowd.
As President he championed and signed the Americans with Disabilities Act and specifically mentioned Lisa Carl, a teen with cerebral palsy who had been kept out of her local movie theater due to her wheelchair; and a group of Little Leaguers who teamed up with disabled players to make sure they weren’t missing out on all the fun.
When George and I worked together to raise funds and awareness in the aftermath of the terrible South Asia tsunami in 2004, we traveled all over the devasted region, including a trip to Sri Lanka, where we visited a coastal city that had been hard hit, with tremendous damage and heartbreaking loss of life. Grief counselors there had been working with local children who had lost loved ones by encouraging them to make drawings to express their feelings, many of which portrayed their personal traumatic images of destruction, but some eventually showing tentative rays of hope in the form of playing children and a bright sun.
Before we left, a few of the drawings were gifted to George and me. I’ll never forget the compassionate way George responded to those kids who had lost so much, or how he treasured their drawings, holding them as if they were priceless masterpieces. For him, they were.
A few years before he died, the internet celebrated the gracious note George left for me in the Resolute Desk when he departed the White House. I won’t include the whole thing here, but just mention that after several lines of encouragement and wisdom about the challenges of the office, he said:
I wish you well. I wish your family well.
That was vintage George, taking a moment to include Chelsea and Hillary in that note from one President to another, reminding me that we’re all people in the end, with families, children, and the hopes and dreams we all carry for them.
In countless moments small and large, fleeting and historic, there was an essential part of George’s character that embraced our common humanity as surely as he held Chelsea’s hand so many decades before. I think George saw in young people the same limitless possibilities that he saw in himself as a young man, his life of tremendous achievement still ahead of him, already determined to take chances and do well in a life devoted to public service.
He did just that, showing us all, time and again, who he truly was.
1 Published in 2009 by Texas A&M University Press.
2 Boules is the French version of boccie ball, and the American version is bowling.
3 According to the Wilson Center: The “Jackson-Vanik Amendment, enacted as part of Title IV of the Trade Act of 1974, prohibits any nation with a non-market economy that restricts the emigration of its people from achieving most-favored nation status with the United States.”
4 Per Wikipedia: “The General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade is a legal agreement between many countries, whose overall purpose was to promote international trade by reducing or eliminating trade barriers such as tariffs or quotas.”
5 Quoting Wikipedia: “The Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development is an international organization with 38 member countries founded in 1961 to stimulate economic progress and world trade. Member countries describe themselves as committed to democracy and the market economy,”
6 Soviet citizens who had been denied the right to emigrate.
7 Countries aligned with the Soviet Union.
8 The Bush School of Government and Public Service: Part of the library center, the school opened in 1997 and is part of Texas A&M University. The Bush School offers undergraduate degrees in international affairs and political science; master’s degrees in international affairs, international policy, national security and intelligence, and public service and administration; an online executive master’s degree in public service and administration; and a PhD program in political science. The school also has a teaching site in Washington, DC. When I talk about the Bush School, I mean this school.
9 The George H. W. Bush Library and Museum, opened in 1997 on the campus of Texas A&M in College Station, Texas, are part of the National Archives. All of President Bush’s presidential papers, and most of his personal ones, are housed in the library. The Bushes are buried on the library grounds. In this book, when I talk about the library, I mean this library.
10 A nickname for the media.