chapter 10 Foggy Bottom

Page 128 →I have always been a romantic and a dreamer, and things were no different on that spring day in 1966. Tennyson got it right in “Locksley Hall” when he wrote: “In the spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.” While entering Harper College, the political science building, with thoughts of love, my eyes were drawn to the bulletin board on the left near the entryway. Posted there was a brochure soliciting candidates to apply for the Rhodes Scholarship to study at Oxford University. I had become thoroughly acquainted with the Rhodes Scholarship the summer before through the chance meeting of a Dartmouth College student named Richie Joseph.

Richie and I met the summer of 1965 at a protest rally in Washington, DC, billed as the Conference for Unrepresented People. The conference was a peace and civil rights gathering with an emphasis on nonviolent direct action (Saul Alinsky style). My decision to attend the rally was precipitous. I decided to tag along with two white female civil rights workers from the Northeast who had gone to St Matthews, Calhoun County, South Carolina, a few miles north of Orangeburg, for the summer of 1965 to assist with the project to register Black voters called Summer Community Organization and Political Education (SCOPE). The project was organized by the Southern Christian Leadership Conference to educate and register Black citizens eligible to vote in 120 counties in six southern states. White college students were recruited to help with education and registration. Phyllis Greenfield, a student at Brandeis University, located in Waltham, Massachusetts, who was a guitar strumming Page 129 →flower-child idealist in the Joan Baez mode, and Elizabeth “Liz” Hafkin, who also studied at Brandeis, decided to attend the conference. They asked me to go along for companionship and to experience an unusual gathering in Washington.

Getting to the conference is a story in itself. Violating the South’s cardinal rule, that Black men should not fraternize with white women, the three of us set off from St Matthews late in the day, headed for Washington. We travelled on US Route 301, the major north–south highway between Florida and Delaware before Interstate 95 was constructed. As night fell, my two female companions needed to use a bathroom. Against my better judgment, we stopped at a restaurant near Dunn, North Carolina to permit my two friends to use the facilities. I stayed in the car, but when the women returned to the car, we were observed by a group of three white men, who began kicking the car door. I ignored them and tried to get away as speedily as I could. The men followed us, and a high-speed chase ensued. Luckily my driving skills and the car (a Simca) did not fail me that night. I was able to outrun the pursuing car, which gave up the chase after about 20 minutes. I often wonder what would have happened to us had we been caught on that dark road in rural North Carolina that night. Years later, Phyllis contacted me and wrote: “Since then I have wished to sit down with the person that was put in harm’s way by my presence, and who, by his clear-headedness and skill under pressure, saved our lives.”¹

The Conference for Unrepresented People turned out to be an unremarkable event. After the conference, Richie, a few others, and I drove to Birmingham, Alabama. Another civil rights conference was taking place at the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham. That church had been bombed by the Ku Klux Klan in September 1963, and four Black girls were killed. On the trip to Birmingham, I learned that Richie had won a Rhodes Scholarship. My view of the Rhodes would forever be colored by my admiration for Richie. He was the quintessential example of the emerging Black Page 130 →leader—intelligent, confident of the future, and able to appeal to a broad spectrum of people. Richie has become an acclaimed scholar on Africa, teaching at several major universities and publishing a prodigious number of articles and books.

On that spring day in 1966 while contemplating the “dreaming spires” of Oxford, I was feeling comfortable at having achieved a measure of academic success and faculty recognition. I had gained enough confidence to begin exploring the world beyond the cloistered walls of USC. I had been a student leader in the civil rights movement and felt that, with my academic credentials and diverse interests, I had a shot at matriculating at Oxford.

While reading the Oxford brochure, my eyes drifted to another brochure. It was seeking applicants for a summer program at the US Department of State. The Foreign Affairs Scholars Program was established to interest minority students in careers in the Foreign Service. The summer experience was designed to expose candidates to the workings of the Foreign Service and prepare them for the qualifying Foreign Service examination.

While in college, I had an interest in international affairs and took several courses in the field at the War Memorial building. The International Studies program had some very able scholars, including Professor Donald Wetherbee. I especially enjoyed a course in sub-Sahara Africa taught by a young free-thinking scholar from the University of California, Berkeley, who was conversant in Arabic. In that course, we explored the nuances in Frantz Fanon’s landmark book, The Wretched of the Earth. His writings depicted the ethos of the schizophrenic African who tried to break the shackles of colonialism and embrace independence.

I decided to compete for the Foreign Service internship. Within three weeks of applying, I was called for an interview at Morehouse College in Atlanta. This was an unforgettable experience. At the beginning of the interview, the panel was astounded that I was an African American matriculating at USC. They confessed that one Page 131 →of the reasons they wanted to interview me was to find out what I looked like. They thought that maybe a white person had mistakenly applied for the minority-focused program. After we exchanged pleasantries, I was grilled by a panel of political science and international studies professors about my interest in and knowledge of the world. I especially remember the piercing mind of Professor Robert Hughes Brisbane, whom I later discovered was a legend at Morehouse.

I have always had an affection for Morehouse College. I considered attending as an early entrant after my third year of high school. During the late 1960s Morehouse was synonymous with Julian Bond, one of its distinguished alumni. He had been very active in the civil rights movement. He was denied his seat in the Georgia legislature because of his outspoken views on civil rights and his resistance to the draft during the Vietnam War.

Soon after my interview at Morehouse, I was selected to participate in the Foreign Affairs Scholars Program and was en route to Washington—to Foggy Bottom—in early June. The program included a work experience in one of the State Department’s divisions, classroom study at Howard University focused on milestones in foreign affairs history, and cultural experiences, including attending plays at the National Theatre and musical events at the Carter Barron Amphitheatre. I remember attending a performance of Neil Simon’s Barefoot in the Park at the National Theatre. The classroom exposed us to some of the leading scholars of the day, including Dr. Kenneth B. Clark of the City College of New York. Dr. Clark conducted the pioneering “doll” study that dramatized for the US Supreme Court deliberating on the Brown case the psychological damage to Black children resulting from segregation in Clarendon County, South Carolina. For fun, I would frequent The Tombs, a college hangout in Georgetown, to get a beer and a quick meal. Senator Robert Kennedy was a regular patron at that establishment where it is rumored that he carved his initials in a wooden table, which was a common practice that I engaged in as well.

Page 132 →Dean Rusk was Secretary of State when I arrived. Lyndon Johnson was in the White House and Secretary Rusk was one of the foreign affairs whiz kids who continued after the Kennedy administration abruptly ended. Secretary Rusk cut his teeth under Dean Acheson during the early years of the Cold War. My initial impression of Secretary Rusk, when I met him at the 4th of July reception in the Secretary’s suite, was that he was a man of great intelligence and quiet dignity. Vietnam would later take its toll on him and greatly diminish his stature. The same fate was in store for Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, whom I got to know a few years later.

This was an exciting time to be in Washington. During the summer of 1966, I was exposed to some of the most influential people of that time: Secretary Rusk, Vice President Hubert Humphrey, and Senator Robert Kennedy. It was also a summer of intrigue and romance. I recall my Cold War security briefing—admonitions to never remove documents from the department, never to talk to strangers about work, and if there were a need to communicate officially, only communicate in places with a noisy background. This was stuff straight out of John le Carré. The flamenco dancer I met at the International Club located on 16th Street mesmerized me with the elixir of her fandango dance. I was so taken with her that I frequented El Bodegon, a Spanish restaurant in downtown DC, where she danced, to enjoy the gastronomical treat of paella while watching her perform. The ambience of it all made me feel like I was a participant in Rudyard Kipling’s Great Game.²

I was assigned to the European desk and had a front-row seat to world events. During the summer of 1966, President De Gaulle of France was in the process of wrecking the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), having withdrawn France from the NATO military command structure. NATO, a collective defense pact consisting of nineteen countries, was formed on April 4, 1949, to foil hostile Soviet intimidation and military activity in Western Europe. Page 133 →Europe had experienced the 1948 communist coup in Prague and the 1948–49 Soviet blockade of Berlin.

Given what France experienced under the German occupation during World War II, I’ve always found it curious that President de Gaulle would move to dismantle NATO seventeen years after it was formed. A host of factors contributed to De Gaulle’s action. Foremost was the new war strategy promoted by the United States called “flexible response,” the essence of which was that a limited nuclear war could be fought in Europe. This idea caused a crisis among NATO members, particularly France. While the new strategy was ultimately adopted by the alliance in 1967, France opposed it and left the NATO integrated command. In addition, De Gaulle fell prey to the influence that “détente” had on certain members of the alliance.

I shared an office at State with a chap named John Brimes. He was an interesting and bright fellow who decided to become a diplomat after attending Columbia Law School. He had aspired to become a Foreign Service Officer for a long time. In fact, he was so determined to join the diplomatic corps that he feigned employment at a Wall Street law firm to please his wife, while he stole away to the New York Public Library to study for the Foreign Service exam. Under Brimes’s supervision, one of my responsibilities was to brief, on a biweekly basis, a trade delegation involved in the General Agreement on Trade and Tariffs (GATT) negotiations. I recall Brimes reining in my expansive discourse on various GATT agenda items. I quickly learned the importance of words and nuance. If too much new information was communicated to the GATT delegates, they were likely to think that there had been a change of policy. In short, the less said the better.

Much has changed since my brief stint in the European Division during the summer of 1966. First the Berlin Wall fell on November 9, 1989. Eight months after that momentous event in July 1990, my family and I visited Berlin to observe life in eastern Europe Page 134 →after the collapse of communism. We stayed with a German friend in West Berlin, which provided a base to visit East Berlin and Potsdam. I marveled at how poor and deprived East Berlin was compared to West Berlin, a symptom of a failed communist system. I especially recall the jackbooted goose-stepping East Berlin soldiers performing the ritual of the changing of the guard at the memorial for the victims of fascist militarism on the Unter den Linden Boulevard, a few blocks from the Brandenburg Gate in East Berlin. What a frightening sight.

After leaving Berlin, we visited Prague, Czechoslovakia. I had always been mesmerized by pictures of the dramatic Romanesque, Gothic, Renaissance, and Baroque architecture of Prague, well preserved during World War II. My violin instructor and member of the Hartford Symphony Orchestra, Joža Karas, a Czech/American who was born and educated in Prague, encouraged the trip and arranged a reservation at a quint hotel, U Blaženky, for lodging. It is located in central Prague providing easy walking access to Prague’s historic sites, including Charles Bridge, Prague Castle, and Old Town Square. Vestiges of the former communist state manifested itself on the train ride from Berlin. After crossing the border into Czechoslovakia, we were approached by a Czech customs officer who asked to see our passports. He looked at Becky’s and my passport for an interminably long time, checking it against information he had in a book in his possession. After eyeing us from head to toe, he returned our passports. I had trepidations that he would find a profile close to ours and arrest us or throw us off the train with our two young children. I thought the country was friendly after the Velvet Revolution under Václav Havel’s leadership.

There have been other significant changes that have transformed Europe. Germany has been reunified; the Soviet Union has been dissolved; the Common Market countries formed a monetary union, from which the United Kingdom has withdrawn as a result of a national referendum (Brexit); NATO has been expanded to Page 135 →31 member countries; and NATO’s ability to form and maintain a consensus in armed conflict has been tested in its successful campaign against Yugoslavia, resulting in the liberation of Bosnia, Herzegovina, and Kosovo, and providing ongoing military assistance to Ukraine in its war with Russia, which has enabled Ukraine to defend itself against Russia’s invasion.

Russia, smarting over its diminished world influence, launched a scorched-earth invasion of Ukraine. With the receipt of lethal military equipment from NATO countries, the Ukrainians have mounted a formidable defense against a much larger military force. Further, the NATO countries and others have imposed economic sanctions on Russia. Vladimir Putin gravely misjudged the resolve of the Ukrainian people and the cohesiveness of the NATO alliance in supporting Ukraine. Unfortunately, with diminished support from the US, the war in Ukraine has become a war of attrition. One can only hope for a negotiated solution to what has become a stalemate on the battlefield.

While I never pursued a career as a Foreign Service Officer owing to my overarching interest in law, I have remained keenly interested in foreign affairs—especially how foreign policy is made and conducted.

Most of what I’ve learned about foreign policy was set against the backdrop of the Cold War and the emerging tide of nationalism that was sweeping the globe in the 1960s and 1970s. During the Cold War, the world was dominated by two superpowers—the United States and the Soviet Union. Relations between the two superpowers defined the world political order. Each superpower exercised control or strong influence over a block of aligned countries and competed for control of the nonaligned countries. Each superpower defined the overarching philosophy that governed its sphere of influence. Aligned countries accepted that philosophy, some grudgingly, either out of fear of military occupation and repression, or as a trade-off for protection from the other superpower or economic gain.

Page 136 →With the collapse of the Soviet system, only one superpower remained. However, with the emergence of China as a major economic and military power, the world order again appears to be returning to a bipolar alignment. With its outsized population and the world’s largest market for goods, China cannot be denied superpower status. Our challenge will be to find an accommodation that benefits both nations. Otherwise, we will face debilitating trade, technology, and travel constraints and the possibility of armed conflict over the status of Taiwan, which will diminish the prosperity and security of all.

Clearly the international order does not behave like a bipolar construct. The United States and China do not have the spheres of influence surrounding them that characterized the former Cold War adversaries. Several countries—China, Russia, India, and Turkey—maintain a locus of power. The current international order is now fractious with these four powers and the United States capable of causing destabilizing mischief.

The United States, under the leadership of President Trump, has recently destabilized the Middle East with an unprovoked attack, along with Israel, on Iran to bring about regime change and contain its nuclear armament capability. Although the United States and Israel have dropped hundreds bombs on Iran’s military infrastructure and other buildings, killing Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei and his top leaders, that aggression has not brought Iran to heel. On the contrary, Iran has managed to continue to launch missiles at Israel and neighboring Arab countries, and close oil shipments through the Straits of Hormuz, thereby disrupting the world oil supply and causing the price of energy to soar. President Trump is now flailing about to find a solution to bring back normalcy to the shipment of oil. Because Trump did not consult with the NATO countries before his assault on Iran, he is finding it difficult to persuade those countries to help restore the status quo in the region.