"The rudest man I ever met"

National Interest, The, Spring, 2003 by Hume Horan

John Boykin, Cursed is the Peacemaker (Belmont, GA: Applegate Press, 2002), 512 pp., $29.95.

JOHN BOYKIN, a writer and communications consultant in San Francisco, has written a clear, detailed and well-organized tribute to one of the Foreign Service's heroes, Philip Habib. Boykin's tale of how Habib dislodged PLO fighters from war-torn Beirut conveys the excitement of a novel, but without distorting what was a most portentous reality. The extraction of the PLO from Lebanon could have turned into a massacre of the PLO by the Israeli Defense Forces and the Phalange militia, and it could have provoked a wider conflict involving Syria. Instead, thanks to Habib's drive, clear vision and the support of President Reagan, the PLO was on its way to Tunis on September 1, 1982. A grateful republic recognized Habib's work: in a White House ceremony, President Reagan awarded him the Presidential Medal of Freedom, making Habib the first career diplomat ever to receive the nation's highest civilian award.

Boykin captures well the twists and turns of the frustrating reality of the Middle East and, more clearly than any other book I have read, also the process of conflict management--how the right individual can, for a time, leave a mark on Middle Eastern realities. The core of the book deals with Habib's 1981-83 mission to Lebanon, Israel and Syria, describing in detail the PLO's extraction from Beirut as a first step toward further reduction of tensions in the area. The withdrawal of Syrian troops from Lebanon and greater domestic autonomy for the Lebanese were supposed to ensue, but these steps never came to pass--for reasons beyond Habib's ability to influence or control. Lebanon's strong man, President Bashir Gemayel, was assassinated; his successor was weak and pliant before Israeli demands; and Syria's dictator, Hafez al-Asad, the final arbiter of events in Lebanon, opposed Washington's plans for the region. Throughout much of this period, moreover, the prime mover in Israeli policy toward Lebanon was Def ense Minister Ariel Sharon. Sharon sought nothing less than an Israeli protectorate over Lebanon. His duplicity, nitpicking, and constant challenges to Habib would have broken a less doughty and pugnacious U.S. representative.

Although Habib gave as well as he got, his protracted mission--one of high-impact, no-pads diplomacy--took its toll. Over time, like any other tool, Habib was worn out. The Lebanese felt guilty in his presence, the Israelis resented his aggressive expertise, and the Syrians were always poised with their veto. Habib himself told the President and the Secretary of State, George Shultz, "I've run out my string."

Habib's exit came quickly. Secretary Shultz was eager to nail down a diplomatic success. He came to the area in late April 1983 and, on May 17, presided over an Israeli-Lebanese agreement. Shultz took much pride in "his agreement." U.S. diplomats, however, including Habib and the brilliant, blunt-spoken ambassador to Syria, Robert Paganelli, told Shultz that they regarded the agreement as so much waste paper--which it soon proved to be. Deputy National Security Advisor Robert McFarlane was then sent to the area to try to salvage something from Shultz's effort, but he had nor mastered his brief. McFarlane was humiliated and savaged by Asad, while Habib (who had no advance warning of the McFarlane trip) submitted his resignation.

WHAT JUDGMENTS does Boykin help us to reach, both on Habib's work and on more expansive themes?

Habib brought a distinct personal style to U.S. Middle East diplomacy. As the son of a Syrian immigrant, he determined to make his mark in the Foreign Service by being the hardest-working, best-informed, most clear-spoken officer in the entire Service. Through a series of standard assignments, including that of political counselor in Vietnam, his judgment was prescient, and his bosses much appreciated advice and analysis that was blunt, expert, and that never ducked the all-important question, "Gentlemen, what are we going to do about it?" Americans can forever be proud that when the Korean military was about to make Korea's future president, Kim Dae-jung, literally "walk the plank", U.S. Ambassador Philip Charles Habib was there to stop them. Later, as Assistant Secretary for East Asian Affairs, Habib's clarity and directness were a refreshing astringent to the many anfractuous, dilatory and self-protective "action memorandums" making their way to the Department's Seventh Floor.

Habib was also the U.S. government's consummate diplomatic troubleshooter, along with the late, great General Vernon Walters. Having played host to both these great men, I can honestly say that I would many times rather have had a visit by General Walters than one from Ambassador Habib. Walters was unfailingly supportive of U.S. ambassadors. He was the essence of good judgment, coupled with tact and good manners that extended even to the smallest children in the house. Through him spoke not only an administration, but decades of 20th-century American history. Habib, on the other hand, was described by one ambassador's wife as "the rudest man I ever met."