On April 8, Condi was sworn in before the 9/11 Commission, standing behind the center of a large table that faced the panel. At the beginning of her opening statement, she admitted that the United States had been slow to react to a long-developing terrorist threat before the 9/11 attacks. “The terrorists were at war with us but we were not yet at war with them,” she said. She overviewed several events in history in which the United States was slow to act to looming danger, such as “the growing threat from Imperial Japan until it became all too evident at Pearl Harbor.” She defended the administration’s strategy on terrorism, citing the president’s briefing schedule and her own meetings with intelligence officials, and outlined various initiatives such as bolstering the Treasury Department’s power to track and seize terrorist assets.
The highlight of the testimony surrounded the content of an intelligence memo given to the president on August 6, 2001, which contained information about Osama bin Laden’s plans to attack on U.S. soil. Condi stressed that the memo did not contain new warnings about an impending attack, but was based on “historical information based on old reporting.” She summarized the memo as follows:The briefing team reviewed past intelligence reporting, mostly dating from the 1990s, regarding possible Al Qaeda plans to attack inside the United States. It referred to uncorroborated reporting that—from 1998—that a terrorist might attempt to hijack a U.S. aircraft in an attempt to blackmail the government into releasing U.S. held terrorists who had participated in the 1993 World Trade Center bombing. This briefing item was not prompted by any specific threat information. And it did not raise the possibility that terrorists might use airplanes as missiles.
During the question-and-answer period, Condi stressed that the administration did not anticipate any strikes within the country, but was focused on terrorist activities in other parts of the world. Commission member Richard Ben-Veniste brought the subject back to the memo, however, to point out that its very title pointed to a domestic attack. The sharp exchange began as follows:BEN-VENISTE: Isn’t it a fact, Dr. Rice, that the Aug. 6 P.D.B. warned against possible attacks in this country? And I ask you whether you recall the title of that P.D.B.
RICE: I believe the title was “Bin Laden Determined To Attack Inside the United States.” Now, the P.D.B.—
BEN-VENISTE: Thank you.
RICE: No, Mr. Ben-Veniste—
BEN-VENISTE: I will get into the—
RICE: I would like to finish my point here.
BEN-VENISTE: I didn’t know there was a point.
RICE: Given that—you asked me whether or not it warned of attacks.
BEN-VENISTE: I asked you what the title was.
RICE: You said did it not warn of attacks. It did not warn of attacks inside the United States. It was historical information based on old reporting. There was no new threat information. And it did not, in fact, warn of any coming attacks inside the United States.
Throughout her testimony, including the heated exchange above, Condi remained calm and steady, just as she had in every other public appearance when discussing the president’s controversial policy on Iraq. Viewers did not witness any attitude or behavior that contrasted with Condi’s previous appearances on television talk shows. And as one reporter observed, war continued to rage in Iraq during her testimony, a reality that concerned Americans as much, if not more, than the dramatic televised hearings. “Although Rice’s testimony produced no bombshells, there were plenty exploding in Iraq even as she spoke,” wrote Tony Karon in Time magazine. “The uprising among both Sunni and Shiite Iraqis that has shaken Coalition forces there and thrown U.S. transition plans into crisis may be a more immediate concern on the minds of the American electorate than the increasingly partisan post-mortem over 9/11.”
In June 2004, the 9/11 Commission released a statement that refuted the administration’s argument that the terrorist threat—which president Bush had acknowledged as specifically a threat from al-Qaeda—lay in Iraq. “We have no credible evidence that Iraq and al-Qaeda co-operated on attacks against the United States,” stated the report. Critics of the president’s decision to go to war in Iraq found new fuel for their case in this dramatic statement. The commission’s declaration supported the view of those like Scowcroft who did not believe that the war on terrorism should be fought in Iraq, but by that time the war had gone on for fifteen months. As of this writing in January 2005, American casualties in Iraq numbered 1,340, with total coalition deaths numbering 1,491.
During the presidential campaign of 2004, Condi accompanied Bush to several cities, such as a September 2 trip to Columbus in the battleground state of Ohio. In the following weeks leading up to the November 2 election, she made speeches in key states including Oregon, Washington, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Michigan, and Florida. “The frequency and location of her speeches differ sharply from those before this election year,” reported the Washington Post, “and appear to break with the long-standing precedent that the national security advisor try to avoid overt involvement in the presidential campaign.” A New York Times editorial complained that Condi appeared so often “on the campaign trail that she sometimes seemed more like a press secretary than a national security advisor.” Condi refuted these charges, however, stating on the National Public Radio, for example, that she had not stepped across the line in her job. “Of course not,” she told Tavis Smiley. “I’m the national security advisor. I take it as part of my role to talk to the American people. We’re at war. This is a time for those of us who have responsible positions to get out of Washington.”
Although Condi stepped up her speech schedule during the campaign, she did not participate in political events as she had done during the 2000 campaign when she served as Bush’s foreign affairs tutor. In contrast to her 2000 appearances in the “W Is for Women” campaign and as a keynote speaker at the Republican National Convention, she was absent from the 2004 convention in New York City. “By tradition and custom,” explained Sean McCormick, a National Security Council spokesman, “the national security advisor does not actively participate in campaign or political events.”
Two weeks after Bush won the November 2004 election, he expressed his trust in his national security advisor’s competence and admiration of her qualifications by nominating Condi as his next Secretary of State. She would succeed Colin Powell, who had announced his retirement from the cabinet post.
At the White House announcement on November 16, two days after Condi’s fiftieth birthday, she was nearly moved to tears by the president’s proud, heartfelt description of her career and personal background. “During the last four years I’ve relied on her counsel, benefited from her great experience, and appreciated her sound and steady judgment,” Bush said. “And now I’m honored that she has agreed to serve in my Cabinet. The Secretary of State is America’s face to the world. And in Dr. Rice, the world will see the strength, the grace, and the decency of our country.” Referring to Condi’s childhood in Birmingham during the violent era of the Civil Rights struggle, Bush added, “Above all, Dr. Rice has a deep, abiding belief in the value and power of liberty, because she has seen freedom denied and freedom reborn.”
In her remarks, Condi said that it was “humbling” to consider succeeding Colin Powell, and that she would greatly miss working with everyone in the White House. Those comments followed her words of praise for the president:Thank you, Mr. President. It has been an honor and a privilege to work for you these past four years, in times of crisis, decision and opportunity for our nation. Under your leadership, America is fighting and winning the war on terror. You have marshaled great coalitions that have liberated millions from tyranny, coalitions that are now helping the Iraqi and Afghan people build democracies in the heart of the Muslim world. And you have worked to widen the circle of prosperity and progress in every corner of the world.
Bush also announced that day that Condi’s deputy, Stephen Hadley, would be promoted to national security advisor. Condi’s nomination was part of a flurry of ch
anges in Bush’s cabinet following the election, including resignations from Commerce Secretary Don Evans, Attorney General John Ashcroft, and Homeland Security Secretary Tom Ridge.
Prior to Condi’s nomination, there has been one woman (Madeleine Albright) and one black (Colin Powell) Secretary of State in American history. Several European countries weighed in on the prospects of future relations with the United States under Condi’s watch at the State Department. An editorial in Germany’s weekly magazine Die Zeit remarked that relations with the United States would probably get better because they couldn’t get worse than they were in the two previous years. Eberhard Sandschneider, director of the German council on Foreign Relations, noted that Condi’s background as an academic rather than as a professional politician were positives, and that her close relationship with the president would be an important change. “With Powell you never knew whether his policies would have influence with the president,” Sandschneider said, “but if Ms. Rice says ‘x,’ you know that the president will also say ‘x.’”
Writing in The New York Times, Richard Bernstein explained that Europe held two general views about Condi’s potential influence there. “One is that she will strengthen further the hard-line views” of the neoconservatives in the administration, and the other that “her sophisticated understanding of international affairs, particularly of Russia and Germany, will prove to be both . . . sympathetic to, or at least, cognizant of, European views.”
On November 19, three days after her nomination as the next secretary of state, Condi was admitted to Georgetown University Hospital in Washington, D.C., for minor surgery to treat non-cancerous, uterine fibroid tumors. She chose a low-invasive procedure, uterine fibroid embolisation, which is performed in about one-and-a-half hours under local anesthesia and involves an overnight stay. In this procedure, the surgeon injects tiny particles into the uterine artery, which block the blood supply to the tumors. Traditionally, most women who undergo treatment for this condition undergo a hysterectomy, a much more complex surgery that requires general anesthesia and a long recovery period. “Having someone like her choose [embolisation] means more women will hear about this option,” said a Boston surgeon.
Embolisation has been available for about ten years, but only 13,000 to 14,000 American women choose this alternative each year, as opposed to approximately 200,000 women who choose to have a hysterectomy. “Dr. Jacob Cynamon, director of interventional radiology at Montefiore Medical Center in the Bronx, said many patients say their gynecologists did not present the option of the less invasive procedure,” reported New York Newsday . According to Cynamon, hysterectomies have long been the “bread and butter” of gynecologists.
Condi was released the day after the procedure and returned to work the following Monday. Her high profile brought this medical topic to the front pages of newspapers around the world, revealing the powerful effect that a world figure can have on a single issue.
Condi will have many options when she finishes her service in the White House. Some speculate that she’s got all the attributes of a successful presidential candidate. “The first viable female candidate for president, whatever her party, must demonstrate deep military knowledge to win the confidence of the electorate,” said social scientist Camille Paglia. She described a frequently repeated chorus that broke out whenever a group of women caught a glimpse of Condi on TV—“That woman should be president!”
In California, polls conducted in the summer of 2002 indicated she was a top pick as the Republican candidate for governor. Some of her closest colleagues see her in international banking or consulting, fields she toyed with when she left Stanford in 1999. There’s always the NFL, which she would love to run one day. Her former job as provost of Stanford gives her perfect entrée to the presidency of a major university. And the door to Stanford’s political science department, where she has tenure, is always open. Most of those options could also include a return to corporate boards, all of which she left when she was appointed national security advisor.
Condi will cross that bridge when she comes to it. “I am not a very good long-term planner,” she said. “I tend to take things on one at a time and worry about getting that job done and doing a good job at that.” Whatever she decides, she will undoubtedly delve into it with the same enthusiasm and drive with which she has approached everything else. “I’d like to think of myself as passionate about life,” she said. “I’m certainly passionate about music and I’m passionate about my work, passionate about family and about my faith.”
Her relatives and friends in Birmingham, including everyone at the church Granddaddy Rice founded nearly sixty years ago, are behind her every step of the way. “We look at her as one of our own who has gone on to high service because of her ability,” said Reverend Jones. “We pray for her every day.”
Condi’s appointment as NSA was a monumental stride for both women and blacks, coming nine years after Carol Moseley-Braun became the first black woman elected to the U.S. Senate. With the scarcity of blacks in upper levels of foreign policy (Colin Powell was the first black NSA, appointed by President Reagan), her rise to this position was as important as Marian Anderson becoming the first black to become a regular member of an American opera company and Jackie Robinson breaking the color barrier in baseball. The NAACP recognized her achievement in 2002 by giving her that year’s President’s Award. This honor recognizes those who, through leadership or by example, have promoted the cause of minorities. According to then-NAACP President Kweisi Mfume, Condi has been breaking new ground her entire life. “There were no role models for her to follow,” he said, “because there was no one like Condoleezza Rice.”
Condi’s career has come a long way from her first assistant professorship, in which she gave students insights into the Soviet Union during the Cold War. In the first Bush administration she stood at the front lines of policy-making, helping the president and the National Security Council staff outline new policies toward the newly mapped regions of Europe. In the first term of George W. Bush’s administration, she was at the forefront of policy-making once again, providing the president with the Security Council’s views—and her own, if asked—on the war on terrorism and other international crises. Rather than researching political history, she was creating it.
Her job as NSA was gratifying on many levels, allowing her to utilize her expertise in her chosen field in the most exciting capacity possible. As a member of the president’s staff she performed a public service, something that her parents practiced in many ways and ingrained in her as a virtue. And she traveled throughout the world, often finding common threads that bind people to each other. During a visit to the Holocaust Museum in Jerusalem, for example, she was moved by a photograph of a well-dressed, impeccably groomed couple who contrasted with the bleak surroundings of their Warsaw ghetto. She heard others comment that it seemed odd for the couple to pay so much attention to their appearance when their lives were at stake. “I had a different reaction,” said Condi. “I said immediately, ‘I understand that photograph. These people are saying, I’m still in control, I still have my dignity.’ They are saying, ‘You can take everything from us, including life itself. But you cannot take away our pride.’” In that couple, Condi saw the pride and dignity with which her mother always dressed in Birmingham, crisp and tailored and beautiful.
Her journeys throughout the world have given her greater appreciation for her own country, in spite of its faults and snail-paced social progress. “As I travel with [President Bush] around the world and as we meet with leaders from around the world,” she told an audience in 2002, “I see America through other people’s eyes. I see a country that still struggles with the true meaning of multiethnic democracy, that still struggles with how to accommodate, and indeed, how to celebrate diversity. But it’s a country that is admired because . . . it does struggle to become better. It is not perfect but it is a long, long way from where we were.”
She may be far from Titusville
on the southwest side of Birmingham, but Condi is not a long way from who she was as an individual when she was growing up there. She is still working hard (and probably not playing enough), still taking her piano seriously (even though summer music workshops in Montana are canceled or cut short by White House obligations), still utterly self-confident and optimistic that things are always moving forward and getting better (she did get a job inside the White House that was closed to her when she was ten), and still strong in her faith. She did not have the same challenges as less-privileged black children of Birmingham, but she had her share of the struggle. The darkness of that time has been a springboard in her life, propelling her to the farthest reaches of her talents and intellect. Like her father before her, she understands that without a struggle there would be no incentive to grow. And like three generations of Rices and Rays before her, she finds glory in that revelation: We do not choose our circumstances or trials, but we do choose how we respond to them. Too often when all is well, we slip into the false joy and satisfaction of the material and a complacent pride and faith in ourselves. Yet it is through struggle that we find redemption and self-knowledge. This is what the slaves of Exodus learned. And it is what slaves in America meant when they sang: “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen—Glory Hallelujah!”
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