My American Journey

by Colin L. Powell

  The real credit goes to three Presidents—Bill Clinton, for taking a politically risky eleventh-hour gamble to avoid an invasion; Jimmy Carter, for his imagination and dogged determination to find peaceful solutions to crises; and Emil Jonassaint, who was wise enough to provide his overmatched generals with the cover they needed to quit. Only time will tell, however, whether the Haitians will be successful in their quest for democracy.

  I have had one other brush with foreign policy since my retirement. Near midnight on Saturday evening, December 17, 1994, I was in my study reading when the phone rang. I had a good idea who was calling. That afternoon, Vernon Jordan had stopped by the house unexpectedly and told me that President Clinton wanted to talk to me about a job in the administration. Washington at the time was swirling with rumors that Warren Christopher wanted to step down as Secretary of State. Christopher had been working tirelessly, but was taking heavy criticism for a U.S. foreign policy that seemed adrift, without coherence or consistency. Jordan confirmed to me that Christopher did in fact want to leave. State was the position the President wanted to talk about. I asked Vernon if he could derail the call. He smiled and said, “No way.”

  I answered the phone that evening, and a White House operator asked me to stand by for the President. When he came on the line, I said jokingly, “I hope you’re not asking me to sign on for another Carter mission.” The former President was about to leap into private diplomacy again, this time in Bosnia. Clinton laughed and said no, but he would like me to drop by the next morning for a chat.

  I arrived at the White House diplomatic entrance at 8:00 A.M. I talked briefly with Secret Service agents who had had a busy night. Someone had taken potshots at the White House the day before, and on my arrival, agents were still finding spent bullets inside.

  I went up to the residential quarters, where the President greeted me and led me to his study. We sat down and chatted for a time, particularly about Bosnia and Haiti. And then he told me that Warren Christopher wanted to leave. Would I be interested in the post?

  I had been giving the matter hard thought ever since Vernon Jordan’s visit. I told the President that I was honored to be asked, but, respectfully, I had to decline. “I’ve only been out of government a little over a year,” I said. I had some major commitments, particularly completing my autobiography for my publisher. Beyond that, I added, “Alma and I would really like a longer break from public life.” We had finally managed to recapture a private life, and we wanted more time to enjoy our family and to think about our future. I had turned down a feeler for the same position from Jordan the year before for similar reasons.

  Left unspoken were my reservations about the amorphous way the administration handled foreign policy, a style with which I was already familiar. I did not see how I could fit back into this operation without changes so radical that the President would probably have difficulty making them. Still, it was a hard call for me. If the nation had faced an immediate crisis, it would have been impossible to say no. That was not the case. The President faced a likely vacancy, not an emergency. He accepted my answer graciously, and we went on to talk of other matters. I left shortly afterward. We have continued ever since to stay in close touch, frequently discussing domestic and foreign policy issues.

  As for the Secretary of State post, Warren Christopher, as deeply committed a public servant as I have ever known, agreed to stay on.

  An Epilogue

  From the privacy of retirement, I watch a fundamental transformation of a world I knew so well for the thirty-five years of my career. That world was defined by an historic struggle between the Soviet Union and the West with rules that structured our political, economic, and military relations. It was a dangerous period, but relatively stable, and one in which we understood the role we had to play. With the end of the Soviet Union and the death of communism as an ideology, we face a world so far without a new structure or a new set of rules. Our strategy of containment died with the Soviet Union.

  Yet, however different the world, the United States remains its leader. We are still the foundation on which Western security rests, and we are increasingly looked to as the foundation upon which the newly freed nations of Eastern Europe want their security to rest. America is trusted and respected as no other nation on earth. This trust comes not only out of respect for our military, economic, and political power, but from the power of the democratic values we hold dear. The Cold War was ultimately won not by armies marching, but by triumphant democratic ideals that proved superior to every competing ideology. Democracy, the rights of men and women, and the power of free markets are proving themselves around the world. We see it happening in Latin America, Asia, parts of Africa, and wherever else these principles have the opportunity to take root.

  In this new world, economic strength will be more important than military strength. The new order will be defined by trade relations, by the flow of information, capital, technology, and goods, rather than by armies glaring at each other across borders. Nations seeking power through military strength, the development of nuclear weapons, terrorism, or tyrannical governments are mining “fool’s gold.” They can never hope to match or challenge the military and economic power of the free world led by the United States. Despotic regimes will come to realize it in due course, when they find themselves left behind while free nations prosper and provide a better life for their people. One only has to look at China to see a nation slowly finding a place in the world, not through the strength of the People’s Liberation Army or Mao’s Little Red Book, but through the release of the creative entrepreneurial power of the Chinese people. In Vietnam, American businesses are being invited in to repair the economic disaster created by two decades of “victorious” communism. We should encourage and support these impulses. Only Marxist Cuba and North Korea still cling to a political and ideologic corpse, perhaps hoping for protection under the endangered species act. But even they cannot escape the tide of history, and we must begin to adjust our policies of Cold War isolation to hasten their integration into a new world.

  I am heartened by the reconciliations taking place around the globe, by a fundamental shift from chronic conflict to negotiated settlements. The IRA and Britain, the Middle East peace process, South Africa, Angola, Mozambique, Cambodia, El Salvador, Nicaragua, all offer examples of once-intractable conflicts resolving themselves through the exhaustion of the protagonists and diplomatic intervention, especially on the part of the United Nations. The way ahead for these nations will not be easy or without violence, but I believe their commitment to reconciliation will prevail in the end.

  Still, this is not going to be a world without war or conflict. Bosnia and Chechnya remind us of the force of factional, nationalist passions. Islamic fundamentalism, misused for political purposes, has the potential to destabilize the underbelly of Eurasia. Nuclear proliferation, although limited to a few rogue nations, still leaves a menacing cloud over the planet. And we are currently witnessing the chaos that occurs when states revert to anarchy, tribalism, and feudalism, as in Somalia, Rwanda, Burundi, Liberia, and Sierra Leone. Television delivers tragic scenes from these places into our living rooms nightly, and we naturally want to do something to relieve the suffering we witness. Often, our desire to help collides with the cold calculus of national interest. In none of these recent foreign crises have we had a vital interest such as we had after Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait and the resulting threat to Saudi Arabia and the free flow of oil. These later crises do not affect any of our treaty obligations or our survival as a nation. Our humanitarian instincts have been touched, which is something quite different. Americans are willing to commit their diplomatic, political, and economic resources to help others. We proudly and readily allow our young sons and daughters in uniform to participate in humanitarian enterprises far from home. In no other way could the Somalis, for example, have been saved so quickly from starvation in 1992. But when the fighting starts, as it did in Somalia, and American lives are at risk,
our people rightly demand to know what vital interest that sacrifice serves.

  I believe it unlikely that a single new strategy to define our role in the world, one with the same coherence as the old strategy of containment, will emerge. Yet, this unformed, unnamed new era holds out the promise of a bright new beginning. As I write, our nation is not at war anywhere. Nor do we have the requirement imposed on us by containment to support unpalatable regimes that do not adhere to accepted democratic principles. And let us not forget the towering achievement of this past half century, our victory in the Cold War. Nuclear annihilation, the horrific possibility that hung over the world as long as East and West were locked in distrust, no longer threatens. A despotic expansionist empire, whose military might once matched our own, is gone, pulled down by its own malignancy. Free enterprise has outrun state-dominated economic systems. Individual liberty has shown its supremacy over police-state conformity. This is the victory of freedom that our generation leaves the world. I feel privileged beyond measure to have taken part in so historic an era.

  During my service in both military and civilian national security posts, I studiously avoided doing or saying anything political, and it has taken me a while to shed the lifetime habits of a soldier. Gradually, however, as I speak around the country, the reticence is leaving and my philosophy is evolving. Most of all, I am impressed by our nation’s present entrepreneurial vitality. Free enterprise is alive and well. Old-line firms are scraping off the barnacles and rust and becoming competitive again. New generations of Americans are bustling, taking risks, making deals, creating new businesses, determined to compete in world markets and to ride the technological wave into the future. Everything I observe affirms my belief in free enterprise. It creates new wealth, generates new jobs, enables people to live good lives, fuels demand, and triggers fresh enterprises, starting the cycle all over again. Government should not interfere with the demonstrated success of the free marketplace, beyond controls to protect public safety and to prevent distortions of competition by either labor or industry.

  I am concerned, however, that the present tax burden on Americans is so high that it seriously risks dampening our entrepreneurial vitality. Every tax dollar taken away from a consumer or a business is a dollar that will be spent less efficiently than if left in private hands.

  I believe so strongly in job-producing free enterprise because jobs are the best answer to most of our social ills. My parents came to this country looking not for government support, but for job opportunities. They labored all their lives at jobs provided by a thriving garment industry. They earned a modest wage, yet enough to live a good life, raise their children, and enjoy a few luxuries.

  Because I express these beliefs, some people have rushed to hang a Republican label around my neck. I am not, however, knee-jerk anti-government. I was born a New Deal, Depression-era kid. Franklin Roosevelt was a hero in my boyhood home. Government helped my parents by providing cheap public subway systems so that they could get to work, and public schools for their children, and protection under the law to make sure their labor was not exploited. My mother’s International Ladies Garment Workers Union, with its right to bargain collectively secured by law, also protected her. Social Security allowed my parents to live a dignified retirement. Medicare gave them access to quality care during long, painful terminal illnesses. I received a free college education because New York taxed its citizens to make this investment in the sons and daughters of immigrants and the working class.

  The great domestic political challenge of our time is to reconcile the necessity for fiscal responsibility with the explosive growth in entitlement programs, including Social Security and Medicare, which the needy and the middle class rely on so heavily. Realistically, we have only two alternatives; either we reduce the entitlement system or we raise taxes to pay for it. We cannot keep balancing the books by increasing the deficit. Yet many politicians want to exempt such programs from serious fiscal scrutiny because to do otherwise risks political suicide. However, until our leaders are willing to talk straight to the American people and the people are willing to accept hard realities, no solution will be found to relieve our children and grandchildren of the crushing debt that we are currently amassing as their inheritance. I say all this, of course, fully aware that it is easy for me to do so since, so far, I have never had to ask anyone to vote for me.

  While the current call for “less government” is justified, in one role I want government to be vigorous and active, and that is in ensuring the protections of the Constitution to all Americans. Our Constitution and our national conscience demand that every American be accorded dignity and respect, receive the same treatment under the law, and enjoy equal opportunity. The hard-won civil rights legislation of the 1960s, which I benefited from, was fought for by presently derided liberals, courageous leaders who won these gains over the opposition of those hiding behind transparent arguments of “states’ rights” and “property rights.”

  Equal rights and equal opportunity, however, mean just that. They do not mean preferential treatment. Preferences, no matter how well intended, ultimately breed resentment among the nonpreferred. And preferential treatment demeans the achievements that minority Americans win by their own efforts. The present debate over affirmative action has a lot to do with definitions. If affirmative action means programs that provide equal opportunity, then I am all for it. If it leads to preferential treatment or helps those who no longer need help, I am opposed. I benefited from equal opportunity and affirmative action in the Army, but I was not shown preference. The Army, as a matter of fairness, made sure that performance would be the only measure of advancement. When equal performance does not result in equal advancement, then something is wrong with the system, and our leaders have an obligation to fix it. If a history of discrimination has made it difficult for certain Americans to meet standards, it is only fair to provide temporary means to help them catch up and compete on equal terms. Affirmative action in the best sense promotes equal consideration, not reverse discrimination. Discrimination “for” one group means, inevitably, discrimination “against” another; and all discrimination is offensive.

  To sum up my political philosophy, I am a fiscal conservative with a social conscience.

  I have found my philosophy, if not my political affiliation. Neither of the two major parties fits me comfortably in its present state. Granted, politics is the art of compromise, but for now I prefer not to compromise just so that I can say I belong to this or that party. I am troubled by the political passion of those on the extreme right who seem to claim divine wisdom on political as well as spiritual matters. God provides us with guidance and inspiration, not a legislative agenda. I am disturbed by the class and racial undertones beneath the surface of their rhetoric. On the other side of the spectrum, I am put off by patronizing liberals who claim to know what is best for society but devote little thought to who will eventually pay the bills. I question the priorities of those liberals who lavish so much attention on individual license and entitlements that little concern is left for the good of the community at large. I distrust rigid ideology from any direction, and I am discovering that many Americans feel just as I do. The time may be at hand for a third major party to emerge to represent this sensible center of the American political spectrum.

  I have served three Presidents, three quite different men, each of whom I admire, however differently they filled the office. On the personal level, Ronald Reagan was a father figure to me, George Bush an older brother, and Bill Clinton, though almost ten years younger, something of a contemporary—Clinton and I were shaped by the sixties and the specter of Vietnam, though we came at the war from opposite poles. As a result of my service to these men, I have had a privileged view of the nation’s highest office. I know what it demands. As I speak around the country, I am constantly questioned about my own future: specifically, am I going to run for President? I am flattered by my standing in public opinion polls. I am moved by the e
ncouragement to run that I hear as I travel around the country. I am honored by the grass-roots draft movements that have sprung up on my behalf, though I have no personal connection to them. To be a successful politician, however, requires a calling that I do not yet hear. I believe that I can serve my country in other ways, through charities, educational work, or appointive posts.

  Nevertheless, I do not unequivocally rule out a political future. If I ever do decide to enter politics, it will not be because of high popularity ratings in the polls. I am fully aware that in taking stands on issues, I would quickly alienate one interest group or another and burn off much popularity. And I would certainly not run simply because I saw myself as the “Great Black Hope,” providing a role model for African-Americans or a symbol to whites of racism overcome. I would enter only because I had a vision for this country. I would enter because I believed I could do a better job than the other candidates of solving the nation’s problems. I would not expect or desire to have anything handed to me; I would fight for the right to lead. And I would enter not to make a statement but to win. I understand the battlefield, and I know what winning takes.

  I am fully aware of the enormous personal and family sacrifices that running for office demands. And, frankly, the present atmosphere does not make entering public service especially attractive. I find that civility is being driven from our political discourse. Attack ads and negative campaigns produce destructive, not constructive, debate. Democracy has always been noisy, but now, on television and radio talk shows, and with print chasing after broadcast audiences, demagoguery and character dismemberment displace reasoned dialogue. As you dial through the current flood of talk shows, you will hear endless whining and not much constructive advice for our country. Any public figure espousing a controversial idea can expect to have not just the idea attacked, but his or her integrity. And Lord help anyone who strays from accepted ideas of political correctness. The slightest suggestion of offense toward any group, however innocently made, and even when made merely to illustrate a historical point, will be met with cries that the offender be fired or forced to undergo sensitivity training, or threats of legal action.