Let’s give credit where credit is due: This freshman, a coaster who knew next to nothing about China and who acted as a cowboy in the first day or two of the spy plane crisis, quickly mastered a new role and a new brief, and he has just aced his very first graduate-level exam in foreign-policy crisis management.
There are of course flashpoints ahead. The president must soon decide whether to authorize the sale of high-tech military equipment to Taiwan. He will have to manage what is sure to be a fractious debate about China’s role as a trade partner. There is always the chance that the Chinese will want to flex their growing military muscles in some way, and soon, in the Taiwan Strait.
And of course the critics will suddenly find reasons to declare that the whole thing was easy: that the Chinese were desperate not to harm trade relations; that the media hyped what was really a small-time incident; that it was all handled by others in his administration. Some conservatives are already in a self-induced rage, claiming that Bush was doing what no American should do: kowtow to the Chinese military.
But let’s be fair. In impressive fashion, Bush quickly learned to modulate his public role. And as chairman of the board, he chose the players to take the lead in the negotiations and rode herd on the team that brought this incident to an end. The wording of the American letter won’t satisfy everyone, but it will get the kids home without the one thing we could not do: apologize for spy flights.
Unsure of himself in the first two days of the standoff-and eager to show that he was in charge-Bush appeared in the Rose Garden to make a series of public threats for the immediate, unconditional return of the crew. He had to do so for domestic political reasons: Though his overall approval ratings are high, voters have doubts about whether he really knows enough to do the job.
But it’s now widely agreed that the Rose Garden Cowboy phase was a mistake: He didn’t need to make public threats that served to back the face-obsessed Chinese into a corner.
Bush piped down and put Colin Powell and Powell’s deputy, Richard Armitage, in charge, with heavy involvement from Condi Rice and-in the background for the most part-Dick Cheney and Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld.
The tone changed, and the behind-the-scenes diplomacy began in earnest. Bush calmed the air of crisis by going about his business in public (throwing out the first ball on an opening day, heading off the Camp David for the weekend). Meanwhile, Cheney, Rice and others made it crystal clear what the administration would not do: apologize for spy-plane flights in international waters.
The U.S. couldn’t do that without undercutting our rationale for worldwide electronic surveillance. The wording and substance of the deal is a model of diplomatic face-saving. We said “regret” not “sorry,” and for landing in Hainan without verbal permission. Technically, a plane in a Mayday situation doesn’t have to do that.
But so what? The American servicemen and women should be home in time for Easter. As for Bush, there are benefits as well. He showed that he could and would learn on the job, and well. His management of the crisis can further chip away at lingering doubts about his knowledge, savvy and ability to lead. It’s of course silly to compare Bush with the leader he once told me he most admires-Winston Churchill-but at least the wiseguys in Washington will have a harder time comparing Bush with Jimmy Carter, which is what they were preparing to do.
