In My Time - Dick Cheney [44]
From that low point onward, the great foreign policy challenge of the Ford presidency was to shake off the effects of a searing defeat. Here was the first American president never elected to national office, overseeing the final withdrawal of American forces from a foreign theater of war in defeat. Ford was left to deal with the consequences of this devastating setback for America’s interests and morale. He faced a crucial test just a few weeks later, when communist forces in Cambodia seized the unarmed American merchant ship Mayaguez in international waters and captured its crew of thirty-nine men. The Mayaguez was anchored offshore, and President Ford ordered that U.S. naval aircraft should interdict any boat traffic between the mainland and the American ship.
When a small boat was spotted departing the Mayaguez, a naval aviator believed he saw some members of the U.S. crew aboard and had the good sense to confirm his order before firing. His request, relayed up his chain of command, made it all the way to the Pentagon and then to the commander in chief. We were in a meeting monitoring the crisis in the Cabinet Room when the president was informed he had a call. He picked up the handset of the telephone that hangs at the president’s spot underneath the cabinet table, listened to the request, and conveyed the order that the pilot should hold his fire. It was the right decision. The crew had been on board the small boat. It was also the only time in all the hours I have spent in meetings in the Cabinet Room that I recall seeing any president use the phone at his place.
All these years later, few people even remember the Mayaguez and to those who do, it may seem like a very small incident in the greater scheme of things. But President Ford’s swift action at the time—demanding the release of the crew and sending in the Marines and air strikes to ensure their safety and reclaim the vessel—had a lasting effect for the good. It said to our enemies and to the world that while America might have withdrawn from Vietnam and been forced to acquiesce in the hostile takeover of that nation, our adversaries would make a mistake to think that we would ignore provocation, particularly when American lives were involved.
Throughout the Mayaguez crisis, Henry Kissinger was constantly on the phone monitoring the situation and demanding information. When I think of all that Henry had been through in that same room with President Nixon, I still marvel at the energy and focus he brought to the service of President Ford. He’d been with Nixon from 1969 until the very last day—seeing all the highs and lows of the Vietnam peace negotiations, the great breakthrough with China, the endless exertions of Cold War diplomacy, the shuttle diplomacy in the Middle East—and still showed no sign of weariness or passivity in his service to the president or his defense of America’s interests. Even while acting as both national security advisor and secretary of state, he was remarkably clear in mind and purpose. Henry was one of America’s higher-profile secretaries of state and not exactly the kind to resist the pull of celebrity. But all that was part of a very impressive package. If ever there was a Washington heavy hitter whose actual talents and achievements justified his star billing, it’s Henry. Nothing about him is overrated.
Of course Henry and I were far from peers in the Ford years when it came to our grasp of international affairs, and I was usually content to be a learner and listener in his company. This was the recommended practice for staff generally, as Henry was alert to his prerogatives and tolerated no intrusions. Indeed the only time I ran into trouble with him was because he suspected larger designs and far more guile than were in me at the age of thirty-four.