The first time I interviewed Henry Kissinger, he began the conversation by saying, “I, of course, realize that you’ve read everything I’ve ever written.”
The way he said it, with the “of course,” added made me chuckle. Was he serious?
“And, of course, I realize that you’ve read everything that I’ve ever written,” I responded.
He did not chuckle.
Kissinger was an arrogant man, self-righteous and brilliant, but stained by the same disease that inflicts many politicians, celebrities and reporters. He was a victim of his own hubris.
In fact, he was the first person I ever heard described by the famous line, “Washington is like Hollywood for ugly people.” That would explain how Kissinger ended up dating Bond girl Tiffany Case — I mean Jill St. John — and at one time was considered the playboy of the West Wing.
Other reporters I know and many I respect spoke kindly about Kissinger, his quick wit and his sense of humor. Helen Thomas even mentioned one highly comic event in her book “Thanks for the Memories, Mr. President.”
In a review by Zofia Smardz that ran in the Washington Post June 19, 2002, Smardz relates it this way:
The hands-down funniest quip in this compilation of anecdotes and sketches from the legendary doyenne of the White House press corps is Kissinger's response to an incident on one of his famous shuttle diplomacy flights to the Middle East when a Secret Service agent accidentally dropped an Uzi in the galley and promptly fainted from shock after a (harmless) round went off. "When he came to," Thomas writes, "Kissinger was standing over him and demanded, 'Why didn't you tell me you wanted off the detail?' " I laughed out loud when I read that, and chortled further at Kissinger's follow-up remark about desperate bodyguards seeking reassignment. I can't repeat it here without spoiling a high point of Thomas's book, but trust me, it's really funny.
Kissinger’s humor ultimately was a weapon he used to grease the wheels for a variety of reasons, many of which were not simply about laughter. As Spencer Ackerman wrote in Rolling Stone, it was about control and access:
Seymour Hersh, the investigative reporter who was the most prominent exception to the fawning coverage of Kissinger, watched journalistic deference take shape as soon as Kissinger entered the White House in 1969. “His social comings and goings could make or break a Washington party,” Hersh wrote in his biography The Price of Power. Reporters like the Times’ James Reston were eager participants in what Hersh called “an implicit shakedown scheme” — that is, access journalism — “in which reporters who got inside information in turn protected Kissinger by not divulging either the full consequences of his acts or his own connection to them.”
Reporters treated him with such deference that I found it personally disgusting.
To say that Kissinger was a controversial figure in American politics without touching on the controversy does the man and America a disservice. He is largely responsible for Nixon’s “secret plan” to end the war in Vietnam. That was a lie and thousands died because of that lie.
But he was also largely responsible for the “secret” bombings in Cambodia that were only secret to U.S. voters, not to the people being bombed and killed.
Anthony Bourdain once called Kissinger a “murderous scumbag” and had even more to say about Kissinger and the press:
Once you’ve been to Cambodia, you’ll never stop wanting to beat Henry Kissinger to death with your bare hands. You will never again be able to open a newspaper and read about that treacherous, prevaricating, murderous scumbag sitting down for a nice chat with Charlie Rose or attending some black-tie affair for a new glossy magazine without choking. Witness what Henry did in Cambodia – the fruits of his genius for statesmanship – and you will never understand why he’s not sitting in the dock at The Hague next to Milošević.
National Security Council spokesman John Kirby offered condolences to Kissinger’s family from the White House briefing room Thursday morning. “This was a man whether you agreed with him or not . . . he served his country bravely in uniform and for decades afterward. We can all be grateful to him. He shaped foreign policy for decades,” Kirby said.
The second time I spoke with Kissinger was a couple of weeks after my first interview. He told me during this second exchange that when he had a weekend he’d catch up on everything I’d ever written. I chuckled again and said when I had a long lunch break I’d read everything he’d ever written. This time he chuckled.
That dismisses nothing that Kissinger did. In fact, I find it curious that a man I found so loathsome on the public scene had a sense of humor behind his arrogance, and that arrogance was legendary. I personally remember his Machiavellian usurping of power during Watergate. He authorized telephone wiretaps of reporters and his own National Security Council staff to plug news leaks in Nixon’s weakened administration.
It is worth noting that Kissinger found his end in Connecticut, home to many of the people Nixon secretly despised and Kissinger worshipped.
Anyone speaking of Kissinger’s sincerity will forgive me if I do not indulge in such idolatry. It fatigues me. If Kissinger was sincere then so is Donald Trump, or P.T. Barnum.
The word is degraded by such uses. What H.L. Mencken said of William Jennings Bryan applies equally to Kissinger. “He was, in fact, a charlatan, a mountebank . . .” But, unlike Bryan and Trump, Kissinger had a deep sense of purpose. There is no doubt that he thought the actions he took were in his best interest, but also in the country’s best interest. That’s the conundrum. He was the man everyone wanted to see on the social scene in Washington. Liberals, conservatives, reporters all drank with and toasted him. But he was responsible for mass murder and lies, and remains one of the principal architects of the disaster that is modern American politics. He held his puissance to the end. Despite whatever was said about him, whatever the facts showed about him, Kissinger’s aura never waned.
Still, having never been a fan, I am often reminded of Bill Barr when it comes to Kissinger. He was a deft and cunning manipulator who always slipped the noose and was often praised for doing it.
The last time I spoke with Kissinger, he rambled on about Playboy, Hugh Hefner and how enjoyable it all was “back then.”
He is a man lost to the ages who deserves little fanfare. He’s a human being who served his country, but to what end? It is annoying that minor criminals are vanquished and punished in this country while those who master the criminal arts are revered for their efforts.
Kissinger died with the stain of destruction and mass murder on his hands. We should never forget that.
