by Billy Graham
On a more serious note, he kindly added that historians would soon be issuing their conclusions about the most influential people of the twentieth century, asserting that “any such list will be incomplete if it does not include the name of Billy Graham.”
Statements like that always humble me. If there is any truth in what Mr. Dole said, it is only because many thousands of people have prayed for our ministry and given financially to make it pos-sible. I replied that Ruth and I were accepting the medal on their behalf also, and that we both felt very unworthy of all the remarks that had been made and of the honor itself.
The previous day, President Clinton called and asked me to stop by the White House. We ended up spending much of the afternoon together, talking not only about the past and current events but also about the Bible and what it says about God’s plan for our lives. It was a time of warm fellowship with a man who has not always won the approval of his fellow Christians but who has in his heart a desire to serve God and do His will.
After the award ceremony in the Capitol, Mr. Clinton showed up at the dinner hosted by Memorial Mission Hospital. “I hardly ever go to a place as President [that] Billy Graham hadn’t been there before me preaching,” he remarked to the crowd. Then he recalled again his boyhood experience of going to our Crusade in Little Rock at a time of great racial tension, and the impact it made on his life. He also spoke of our visits together across the years. After his remarks, he presented me with a framed copy of the legislative bill that authorized the Congressional Gold Medal for us, and the pen with which he had signed it. Afterward we went backstage, and he gave me a long hug before departing. It was a memorable conclusion to a memorable day.
As the 1996 election approached, I faced what by now was a familiar dilemma: two friends running against each other for the same office. Some people who were strongly in favor of one of the candidates particularly pressed me to come out in support of their candidate, but I steadfastly refused to do so. During the campaign, Elizabeth Dole (whom I had known for many years) attended our Charlotte Crusade one evening, and her presence was noted from the platform; some people took that as an implied endorsement of her husband. On the other hand, my appearances with the President from time to time undoubtedly made other people conclude that, by implication, I was endorsing him. My own prayer was that God’s will would be done, and that He would grant wisdom, compassion, and integrity to whoever was elected to our highest office.
That was my prayer also as I stood on the podium on January 20, 1997, as President Clinton and Vice President Gore were inaugurated to their second term in office. It has been my prayer for every president I have known, whether casually or intimately. The burdens and responsibilities of that office are enormous, and no person can ever fulfill its demands with his own strength, but only with the grace and help of Almighty God. President Clinton knows the reality of that truth; and as America approaches the dawning of a new century, I pray that all who follow him in that office may know it as well.
37
Leading in a Time of Crisis
President George W. Bush
Normally I don’t watch the early morning television shows when I am home, preferring instead to use the first hours of the day for contemplation and study. But the call that morning from one of my associates was brief and to the point: an airplane had just flown into one of the twin towers of New York’s World Trade Center, and I might want to turn on the television to follow developments. No one knew at that stage if it was simply a tragic accident or part of something more sinister, but soon we knew the answer: the United States was under attack from a barbaric, shadowy enemy who had no hesitancy in killing thousands of innocent people.
Like most Americans that morning of September 11, 2001, Ruth and I watched in horror as scene after appalling scene unfolded: a second plane full of passengers slamming into the other tower of the Trade Center; another hijacked plane smashing into the Pentagon; still another Washington-bound plane crashing instead into the Pennsylvania countryside because of the courage of some of its passengers (one of whom, Todd Beamer, was a recent graduate of Wheaton College, our alma mater). Then those final, horrific moments as the twin towers of the tallest building in the world collapsed into a tangled mass of twisted steel and burning rubble. Not since Pearl Harbor some sixty years before had the territory of the United States been attacked so viciously and so unexpectedly, and with such devastating effect.
As I watched those shocking events unfold that morning my thoughts inevitably turned to President George W. Bush, the man on whose shoulders would rest the responsibility for meeting the challenge of this brutal act of terrorist aggression. He had been in Florida when the attacks occurred, and later some criticized him for not returning to Washington immediately instead of remaining in the air for some hours. But I knew he had little to say in the matter; he was in the hands of the Secret Service, and at that stage no one knew whether the White House might be the next target.
Repeatedly I paused to pray for the people of New York and Washington, and especially the President and our other leaders—not only for their safety but for wisdom in the days and months ahead. They would need it, I knew, for the conflict we now faced was unlike anything we had ever experienced. I had made a point of studying Islam’s history and beliefs over the years. One of our gifted associate evangelists, Dr. Akbar Abdul-Haqq, was a brilliant scholar who knew the Islamic faith intimately, and had helped me understand its basic teachings and inner divisions. I also had met numerous Muslims in my travels, and just two years previously a delegation of Christian and Islamic leaders from Iraq had visited with me at Harvard University, where I was speaking. The vast majority of Muslims, I knew, were not driven by violence or hate; only a small minority of extremists endorsed the fanaticism of al-Qaida and other fringe groups. But this did not lessen the threat these groups posed, or minimize the difficulties and challenges President George W. Bush must now face.
I’m not sure exactly when I first met George W. Bush. As I noted previously, I had known his grandparents, Senator Prescott Bush and his wife, Dorothy, and later Ruth and I became good friends with their son, George H. W. Bush, and his wife, Barbara. Whenever we could, we accepted George and Barbara’s annual invitation to spend a few days with them at their vacation home in Kennebunkport, Maine, and it was probably during one of those visits that I first met the young man who one day would become the forty-third President of the United States. By his own admission, he came out of college with no clear direction to his life, although the lively discussions that seemed to be part of every family meal and the example of his parents’ deep commitment to public service undoubtedly gave him an unparalleled foundation for his later years. He also inherited the Bush family’s love of athletics and their vigorous lifestyle, traits that I have always felt gave him the physical stamina and health he would need to meet the rigorous demands of the presidency.
At Kennebunkport the Bushes were always surrounded by family and friends, and several times they asked me to lead a freewheeling question-and-answer session with them on the Bible and religion. I also had many informal conversations with various members of the family about faith in Christ, and George W. Bush has said that God used one of those times to stimulate his own commitment to Christ. I do not remember the occasion specifically, but afterward his life began to take on a new seriousness and a clearer sense of direction.
In time he would follow his grandfather and father into politics, and I was honored when he asked me to pray at his inauguration as governor of Texas on January 17, 1995. Two years later he spoke to the crowd at the opening meeting of our April 1997 San Antonio Crusade, not only welcoming us to Texas but taking the opportunity to give a brief testimony to his personal faith in Christ. His ability to work with politicians of different stripes and his administrative skills as governor of a major state brought him to national attention, and in November 2000 he was elected our forty-third president. I regretted the controversy that erupted over that e
lection due to his razor-thin electoral margin and the dispute over the recounts in Florida (particularly since his opponent, Vice President Albert Gore, was also a friend), but perhaps such conflicts are inevitable in a democracy. I couldn’t help but recall Winston Churchill’s quip that democracy is the worst possible form of government—with the exception of all other forms! The new President kindly asked me to deliver a prayer at his inauguration, which I was forced to decline for reasons of health; at his invitation my son Franklin was invited to take my place.
Future generations may find it hard to comprehend the confusion and fear—even paranoia—that swept the nation immediately following the September 11 assaults. Were other attacks imminent? Was Washington (or any other major city) really safe? What did this mean for America’s future? These fears were compounded by a deep sense of national grief over the loss of so many innocent people, including hundreds of heroic emergency personnel (although the final number of casualties wouldn’t be known for weeks). Financial markets were closed; police across the country went on high alert; the vice president and other key leaders were removed to a secret location in case Washington was attacked. In addition, all air traffic throughout the country was halted. One friend of ours, returning from a series of speaking engagements in Africa and Europe, found herself stranded for over a week in a remote Canadian airport. We all sensed that life would never be the same, although no one knew exactly what shape it might take. I stayed glued to the television, praying almost constantly for our nation and its President.
Late the next day—September 12—the White House telephoned to say that the President was calling a “National Day of Prayer and Remembrance” for September 14. Could I speak at the service planned for Washington’s National Cathedral that morning? I readily agreed in spite of the shortness of time, convinced the President was doing the right thing by calling the nation to prayer during this time of crisis.
The next thirty-six hours were among the most intense of my life, as I tried to keep track of developments while working diligently on multiple drafts of what I might say to bring comfort and encouragement to the nation. Meanwhile my executive assistant, David Bruce, scrambled to put together travel arrangements, working with the White House to get the ban on air travel lifted so a private plane—kindly offered to me by my friend Steve Case—could take me from North Carolina to Washington (the only way I could make it in time). Clearly the White House staff was operating under tremendous difficulty, and it wasn’t until the next evening that David finally received word that we could be on our way. However, even the White House could not gain permission for us to land at Reagan National Airport, just minutes from downtown Washington, so we were directed instead to Dulles Airport in the Virginia countryside about an hour away. As we landed it was slightly unnerving to look out the window and realize we were the only airplane moving at that normally busy airport.
In less than two months I would be celebrating my eighty-third birthday, and the next morning—the day of the event—I admittedly was feeling my age. Only the knowledge that God would be with us, and that people around the world were praying, sustained me. I knew too that any stress or weariness I felt must be minimal compared with the pressures facing the President. In a few hours my responsibilities would be over and I could rest, but his would continue long into an unpredictable future.
The drive from our hotel to National Cathedral gave us a sobering glimpse of Washington’s nervousness and state of alert. Streets around the White House and other important government buildings were cordoned off, and we had to change direction several times to get around the closed areas. Armed troops were standing on almost every street corner, it seemed, and when we arrived at the cathedral security was extremely tight and it took us an extended period of time to be admitted. All the way to the cathedral my thoughts were focused on what I was going to say. My daughter Anne had called that morning with an illustration I wanted to use, and while David Bruce finished inserting it into my notes, I jotted down some last-minute changes. After we arrived, those of us who were participating in the service gathered in the bishop’s chambers to await the President’s arrival, after which we all stood in a circle and prayed for God’s blessing on the service, and also for our world. The service itself was unforgettable, with former presidents and members of Congress joining President Bush and other leaders in asking for God’s comfort on all who had been touched by the tragedy, and for God’s wisdom and courage in the days ahead. (The full text of Billy Graham’s message at National Cathedral is reprinted in the Appendix.)
On January 21, 2005—over three years later—I was back at National Cathedral, this time for a service of prayer called by President Bush as part of his inauguration to a second term in office. Some months before, I had broken my hip in a fall and undergone hip replacement surgery at the Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville, Florida, and then had fallen again just as I was recovering and broken my pelvis. As a consequence my mobility was limited and I had been forced to begin using a walker, but the cathedral staff thoughtfully arranged the service so I did not have to climb any steps. It was good to see a number of old friends and acquaintances at the prayer service, including Cardinal Theodore McCarrick of Washington and National Security Adviser (and soon-to-be secretary of state) Condoleezza Rice.
By then it was clear that the kind of terrorism that had struck our nation in 2001 was global in scope, and would not be defeated easily or quickly. Only history can judge the full impact of President Bush’s war on terrorism, including the overthrow of the Taliban regime in Afghanistan and the war in Iraq; we are too near to those complex events to draw any final conclusions. What I do know is that each of us who participated in that service of prayer were convinced our nation and its leaders needed God’s direction and strength more than ever. I knew President Bush took such occasions very seriously; for him prayer was not an occasional display of public piety or a casual afterthought, but a daily, personal reality springing from his sincere personal faith in Christ.
Inevitably any president is judged by his public actions, particularly in this era of almost nonstop media exposure. But presidents also have a private side, and what a leader does away from the public eye may be just as revealing about his personality and character as the decisions he makes. In talking earlier about George W. Bush’s parents, I noted their habit of staying in touch with Ruth and me through occasional phone calls or handwritten notes—a practice that continues to this day. The same has been true of some other leaders I have known. Such acts will never be noticed by the press (nor should they be), nor are they done to gain any political advantage. They simply express a person’s natural kindness and thoughtfulness, and demonstrate a side of their character that I find commendable. George W. Bush follows in the footsteps of his parents in this regard, occasionally calling just to see how we are doing or dropping us a quick note of encouragement (in spite of what must be a crushing daily schedule). Even as I was working on this chapter, he expressed the hope that we could see each other in Washington and have prayer together. Politicians, I’m afraid, are notorious for trying to use or manipulate people for their own political advantage, and I’m sure I have been the unwitting victim of more than one such attempt. But I have never felt either George W. Bush or his father was trying to take advantage of our friendship, and I have been grateful for this.
I will never forget one special occasion when Mr. Bush and his wife, Laura, went out of their way to show kindness to our family. On November 6, 2001—the night before my eighty-third birthday, and less than two months after the September 11 attacks—the Bushes invited Ruth and me, along with our immediate family and a few close friends, to have dinner with them at the White House. It was a delightful and relaxed occasion, with the President playing tour guide before we sat down to dinner, and then leading the group in singing “Happy Birthday” as the waiters brought in a cake baked by the White House chef.
One of President Bush’s traits that isn’t particularly known is his
strong sense of personal discipline. As the evening wound down, he stood and said, “Time to go to bed!” and we knew it was time to leave. He had a full schedule the next day—as I recall he was meeting with British prime minister Tony Blair—and he knew it was important that he be rested and alert. The dinner was strictly a private and low-profile affair, and as far as I know, it went unnoticed by the press—as, I’m sure, the President intended. I was especially pleased Ruth was able to attend; her back problems had grown increasingly painful and travel was difficult for her, but I think she wanted to make the trip as much to express her respect for the President as to be with our family.
George W. Bush is the eleventh president I have been privileged to know over the years—some well, some less so. Each brought to the office his own unique gifts and personality, and I believe each made an impact on the world that wasn’t necessarily obvious at the time (and may not be fully appreciated for generations). They also confronted challenges they could never have imagined at the beginning of their terms, and each endured enormous pressures and burdens the public would never know. No position on earth is more complex or demanding, and in spite of their differences, every president I have known was a uniquely gifted and capable individual. Some possessed great charisma and exceptional communication skills, able to connect with the public and win a hearing for their points of view, even with those who disagreed with them. Others were less gifted that way—a fact, I’m afraid, that sometimes obscured their extraordinary abilities and achievements.
That doesn’t mean the eleven presidents I have known were perfect or that their decisions were always right. Presidents are human, and while that doesn’t excuse them from responsibility for bad decisions or wrong motives or lapses in judgment (anymore than it does the rest of us), it has made me realize that government has its limitations, and no president or political party is ever going to solve all our problems. I’m grateful for the sincere and deep faith some of our presidents possessed, and I am convinced that any president or other public official will be a better leader if he realizes his inadequacies and humbly seeks God’s help. But this is no guarantee their decisions will always be right, or that their personal life will always be perfect.