The four-star general who later became Secretary of State was one of the most distinguished, admired and trusted figures in America government of the late 20th century – even though he was fed lies by his bosses to share with the United Nations as President George W. Bush tried to justify his invasion of Iraq, writes Andrew Rosenthal, Bulletin’s Editor-in-Chief.
I remember vividly the first time I met Colin Powell. I was in Los Angeles in late 1988 covering Ronald Reagan’s last Christmas vacation as president, working for The New York Times. I went to a dinner with two other reporters from Time Magazine and The Washington Post, General Powell and his wife, Alma. We talked for a couple of hours about a whole range of issues that were important at the time, and Powell spoke with confidence, expertness, and clarity about all of them.
I didn’t see him again until 1990, when I was writing profiles of President George H.W. Bush’s national security team before the first war in Iraq.
I was sitting in the crowded outer office of Defense Secretary Dick Cheney when his door opened, Powell walked out in his full uniform, ignored everyone else in the room and came over to me, sticking his hand out.
“How are you Andy,” he said. “I haven’t seen you since that dinner in LA. I heard you got divorced. I’m sorry to hear that.”
I was stunned.
The man was the perfect politician, with an infallible memory for faces and names and the ability to keep a mental file on everyone he met. I thought, if this guy runs for president, I’m voting for him.
A few weeks later, I interviewed Powell as well. He was reluctant at first, but then said he would give me 30 minutes. I went to the appointment and an hour later, I walked out. The general had laid out for the me the entire “Powell doctrine” of using disproportionate force and – more important – the lesson he had learned as a young officer in Vietnam. That is, you never have soldiers in the field if the politicians lose their nerve.
Republican Presidential candidate. Photo: Jack Plunkett
Powell, of course, did not run. As he explained to me and some other New York Times journalists, his wife feared for his safety and his friends cautioned him that the Republican Party, of which he was a member, would reject him because of his race. He said they told him that he would not be the first black man nominated to be president, and perhaps become president, but the first black man rejected for those honors.
I was as shocked as everyone else to see Powell at the United Nations Security Council in 2003 repeating the Bush administration’s lies and exaggerations about Iraqi weapons of mass destruction.
When I look at that footage again, I read a sense of distaste on Powell’s face – perhaps because I want to believe that knew he was not being honest, but that the sense of duty and patriotism that drove him all his life had compelled him to obey his President. That his president was willing to sully that sense of duty and his reputation said more about George Bush than Colin Powell.
There will always be that asterisk next to his name in history, but after Colin Powell became the latest unnecessary casualty of Covid-19, I choose to remember him as the soldier, the statesman, the figure of quiet authority and distinction that he was for so many decades.
Andrew Rosenthal is Editor-in-Chief of Bulletin. He was a reporter and editor at The New York Times for 30 years, serving as White House correspondent, Washington Editor, International Editor, Assistant Managing Editor, and Editorial Page Editor.
