Richard Holbrooke: A great man of peace

There will be an awful lot of things said about Richard Holbrooke in the coming days, some of it even true. But I think the most important things are the things people won’t be able to say about him.

They won’t be able to say he didn’t care. Anyone who knew Richard knew he was passionate about, well, pretty much everything.

I remember meeting with him for the first time, not long after he took up his job as special representative. I was struck by how much he really knew about Afghanistan. He knew the tribal politics, the family connections. He knew the history of the country, the topography of the land, the agricultural challenges. He even knew the weather patterns. It was like going on a date with a search engine.

But what struck me most was his deep love of Afghans themselves. They moved him, they and their daily struggles. The last thing he said to me that day was, “These people have been at war for more than thirty years. They’ve earned the right to peace. I need you to know there isn’t anything more important than this work.”

It was clear to me right then and there that President Obama chose the right guy for the job. For all his combativeness, he was equally compassionate.

People also won’t be able to say Richard lacked candor. Far from it. For all the talk about his supposed
Machiavellian pursuits, all I ever saw was a guy who told you exactly what he was thinking, very often the moment he was thinking it. And he really didn’t care who you were, either.

We made a trip together in the spring of 2009 to Afghanistan, Pakistan and India. While in Islamabad, he arranged for us to meet privately with about a dozen young men from the tribal areas, mostly students. Richard thought it was important to solicit the views of those most affected by — and potentially swayed by — the spread of extremism. You can well imagine the strongly held opinions by some who showed up.

When one of them complained about drone attacks and civilian casualties, Richard listened patiently, even warmly. But when the student launched into a diatribe about the false motivations of “America’s war,” Richard cleanly cut him off. His easy grin bolted into a frown. The right hand on his cheek swung down to grip the armrest. He leaned forward and let fly a respectful but stern defense of what we were trying to do in that part of the world. I wish I had recorded it, because it was brilliant.

In a culture that places great store in talk, Richard could wield the weapon of words like no other.

He didn’t squash the kid, and he probably didn’t change any minds. But he didn’t let the accusations stand without challenge, either.

No one can ever say he wasn’t loyal. He believed deeply in the war effort, felt it vital to our own national security. He was a great supporter of our troops, and he was devoted to the idea that America had a responsibility to get this right.

Having been tested in his early years by Vietnam — as was I — and having forged a peace in the Balkans, Richard knew firsthand the many ways in which the resolution of war can be derailed by political strife, economic instability, injustice and social or cultural barriers. He didn’t try to apply haphazardly lessons from his past, but neither did he ignore the pertinent ones. He held fast to solid principles he believed were inviolate and then anchored everything he did around them.

He preached patience with Pakistan and pushed for development programs in Afghanistan. He sought greater unity of effort across our government, and he worked tirelessly to align coalition equities. Americans had no more loyal advocate for their interests than Richard Holbrooke.

The man was indefatigable, always in a frenzy. His mind was never quiet, his tongue even less so. Energy poured from Richard. I heard someone quip once that he walked like he had a bailiff behind him and a good meal in front of him … both of which might have been true.

He was also fiercely loyal to his people. He loved them all, and they loved him back. That they have carried on so nobly in just the last few days speaks volumes of how well he marshaled them into a team, and how much he inspired them to greater good. I’ll bet there isn’t a single person on his staff who didn’t believe in his or her heart that Richard liked them best. That’s just the way he made people feel. He was a good diplomat, yes, but I think he was an even better leader.

When people in my profession speak of great men, we most often speak about men of war — men of violence and cunning and martial ability. We celebrate the exploits of Lee and Grant, Halsey and MacArthur, Clausewitz and Mahan.

Rarely do we count among the “greats” those who labor not to wage war, but those who work with might and main to prevent it. Rarely do we celebrate men of peace.

Say what you like about Richard Holbrooke, but don’t tell me he wasn’t a great man of peace.

I am proud to have called him a friend.

Mullen is Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff