By Tom Plate
LOS ANGELES ― He will certainly not be remembered for any grand theories of international relations, and his speeches were generally not memorable. But as U.S. secretary of state, he served President Bill Clinton during his first four years in the White House as well as he could, and his country over the course of decades in diplomacy basically as well as anyone could.
Warren Christopher, who died last weekend at 85 here in Los Angeles, at home with his family, was a man who brought immense decency and an almost objective fairness in his dealings with all. Not everyone in public life can claim that distinction, and few, if any, would dispute that he had that special quality.
As a journalist who would seek out his insights, I would be hard put to say that they were often scintillating. But his views were invariably helpful, and always honest. And he was sometimes more farseeing than people knew. As a once-Los Angeles Times staffer launching a column about Asia and America, I took missionary encouragement from his sense that American foreign policy was unbalanced.
For Christopher, as secretary of state, felt, as many did (and do) here on the West Coast of America, that the East Coast foreign policy establishment had its head screwed too hard toward Europe and the Middle East, to the unfortunate de-emphasis of Asia, the obviously growing giant.
Even in the exalted position of secretary, Chris, as almost everyone who knew him called him, could do little himself to uproot that wrong-headed policy orientation. And Asia itself never quite knew what to make of this superficially bland man who came from Los Angeles. But the truth was he was more of an Asian soul mate than anyone realized.
His working relationship with some Asian foreign ministers and secretaries were invariably good and cordial, but with a few they were quite special. Surely at the top of that list was Qian Qichen, the legendary foreign minister of China from 1988-98.
To Christopher, this unusual Chinese government official, who went on to become vice premier of PRC State Council, was the diplomat’s diplomat. One night before I was to fly to Beijing for an interview with China’s foreign minister, Christopher telephoned to say something like this.
“Tom, you are a fortunate man to get an interview with Qian Qichen. Despite all the differences between China and America, he is a man you can deal with. He is a man who likes to get things done, without fuss. You will enjoy your session.”
And I did, indeed. But looking back now, I think of Chris’s line about China’s FM as a man who likes to get things done without fuss as a near-precise definition of this quiet American diplomat himself.
Christopher never received much recognition, much less a Nobel Peace Prize, for all that he did. But just look at the record: he was a master negotiator. He helped end the horrific civil war in the former Yugoslavia, painstakingly negotiated the Oslo Accords between Israel and the Palestinians, and kept fighting the good fight to give democracy a chance in Haiti.
Back in the administration of Jimmy Carter, he bravely worked to help bring about the release of the American hostages in Iran. I once asked former President Carter for an assessment of his former deputy secretary of state. He quickly looked me in the eye and said, with a bit of Georgian twang: “Chris, I would trust with my life.”
Taking credit for achievements was not in his DNA. Posturing was not his thing; getting results was. I once asked him when he was still secretary of state why he so rarely appeared on American television. He flashed that gooey loose-faced smile and said simply: “I try to let Madeleine [Albright, to succeed him in Clinton’s second term] handle that, she’s so much better than I.” He was right about that. But history may well show that he was the better secretary of state.
In his last years Chris continued to do good work as a public figure, especially as the behind-the-scenes guru of the Pacific Council on International Policy. But he never neglected his loyalty to colleagues at O’Melveny & Myers, the international law firm that never ceases to remind people that it was one of the first American firms to open an office in Beijing.
Chris, who in 1958 was made a partner at the age of 33, never took credit for that decision. But I think it was one of those deeply quiet accomplishments about which he took very great pride. Like most of us here on the West Coast, he knew in which direction the future lies. He always knew which way was up. And he rarely let anyone down, especially his country.
American journalist Tom Plate, distinguished scholar of Asian and Pacific affairs at Loyola Marymount University, is the author of the Giants of Asia series, which includes “Conversations with Mahathir Mohamad” and “Conversations With Lee Kuan Yew.” He can be reached at platecolumn@gmail.com.
Originally published March 25, 2011 in the Korea Times.
LOS ANGELES ― He will certainly not be remembered for any grand theories of international relations, and his speeches were generally not memorable. But as U.S. secretary of state, he served President Bill Clinton during his first four years in the White House as well as he could, and his country over the course of decades in diplomacy basically as well as anyone could.
Warren Christopher, who died last weekend at 85 here in Los Angeles, at home with his family, was a man who brought immense decency and an almost objective fairness in his dealings with all. Not everyone in public life can claim that distinction, and few, if any, would dispute that he had that special quality.
As a journalist who would seek out his insights, I would be hard put to say that they were often scintillating. But his views were invariably helpful, and always honest. And he was sometimes more farseeing than people knew. As a once-Los Angeles Times staffer launching a column about Asia and America, I took missionary encouragement from his sense that American foreign policy was unbalanced.
For Christopher, as secretary of state, felt, as many did (and do) here on the West Coast of America, that the East Coast foreign policy establishment had its head screwed too hard toward Europe and the Middle East, to the unfortunate de-emphasis of Asia, the obviously growing giant.
Even in the exalted position of secretary, Chris, as almost everyone who knew him called him, could do little himself to uproot that wrong-headed policy orientation. And Asia itself never quite knew what to make of this superficially bland man who came from Los Angeles. But the truth was he was more of an Asian soul mate than anyone realized.
His working relationship with some Asian foreign ministers and secretaries were invariably good and cordial, but with a few they were quite special. Surely at the top of that list was Qian Qichen, the legendary foreign minister of China from 1988-98.
To Christopher, this unusual Chinese government official, who went on to become vice premier of PRC State Council, was the diplomat’s diplomat. One night before I was to fly to Beijing for an interview with China’s foreign minister, Christopher telephoned to say something like this.
“Tom, you are a fortunate man to get an interview with Qian Qichen. Despite all the differences between China and America, he is a man you can deal with. He is a man who likes to get things done, without fuss. You will enjoy your session.”
And I did, indeed. But looking back now, I think of Chris’s line about China’s FM as a man who likes to get things done without fuss as a near-precise definition of this quiet American diplomat himself.
Christopher never received much recognition, much less a Nobel Peace Prize, for all that he did. But just look at the record: he was a master negotiator. He helped end the horrific civil war in the former Yugoslavia, painstakingly negotiated the Oslo Accords between Israel and the Palestinians, and kept fighting the good fight to give democracy a chance in Haiti.
Back in the administration of Jimmy Carter, he bravely worked to help bring about the release of the American hostages in Iran. I once asked former President Carter for an assessment of his former deputy secretary of state. He quickly looked me in the eye and said, with a bit of Georgian twang: “Chris, I would trust with my life.”
Taking credit for achievements was not in his DNA. Posturing was not his thing; getting results was. I once asked him when he was still secretary of state why he so rarely appeared on American television. He flashed that gooey loose-faced smile and said simply: “I try to let Madeleine [Albright, to succeed him in Clinton’s second term] handle that, she’s so much better than I.” He was right about that. But history may well show that he was the better secretary of state.
In his last years Chris continued to do good work as a public figure, especially as the behind-the-scenes guru of the Pacific Council on International Policy. But he never neglected his loyalty to colleagues at O’Melveny & Myers, the international law firm that never ceases to remind people that it was one of the first American firms to open an office in Beijing.
Chris, who in 1958 was made a partner at the age of 33, never took credit for that decision. But I think it was one of those deeply quiet accomplishments about which he took very great pride. Like most of us here on the West Coast, he knew in which direction the future lies. He always knew which way was up. And he rarely let anyone down, especially his country.
American journalist Tom Plate, distinguished scholar of Asian and Pacific affairs at Loyola Marymount University, is the author of the Giants of Asia series, which includes “Conversations with Mahathir Mohamad” and “Conversations With Lee Kuan Yew.” He can be reached at platecolumn@gmail.com.
Originally published March 25, 2011 in the Korea Times.
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