SUNDAY, AUGUST 2 , 2020. THE WASHINGTON POST EZ RE A23
SUNDAY Opinion
L
ast October, former Obama nation-
al security adviser Susan Rice, now
being mentioned as a possible run-
ning mate for Joe Biden, was on the
popular podcast “Pod Save America,”
when another former Obama administra-
tion official, Tommy Vietor, shared his be-
lief that high-ranking Republican
Sen. Lindsey O. Graham of South Carolina
is a long-standing specimen of excrement.
“He’s been a piece of s---,” Rice
concurred. “I said it. I said it, finally,
dammit. He’s a piece of s---.” She smiled at
the camera.
Ladies and gentlemen, the vice presi-
dent of the United States?
What the %$#@&?
If Biden is actually considering Rice for
the job — I suspect the boomlet is more
about building her profile for another fu-
ture post — it would be a costly mistake.
Don’t get me wrong. Biden would be
better than President Trump even if he put
the general secretary of antifa on the tick-
et. And Rice’s CV is impressive: Stanford,
Rhodes scholar, assistant secretary of state
at age 32, U.N. ambassador.
But at a time when Americans have suf-
fered greatly from a famously pugilistic
leader with no electoral experience who
embraces public profanity and petty in-
sults, Americans want healing and calm.
Why would Biden tap as veep (and put a
heartbeat from the presidency) a human
lightning rod?
Others reportedly on Biden’s list (all
women, most women of color) have run
for office. Kamala Harris, Elizabeth War-
ren, Val Demings, Karen Bass, Stacey
Abrams, Tammy Duckworth, Michelle Lu-
jan Grisham and G retchen Whitmer know
how to persuade voters, twist arms, build
coalitions. Rice has never experienced the
intense vetting that Harris or Warren has.
Demings rides a Harley and has been a
police chief, impeachment manager and
lawmaker from a key state. Duckworth
lost her legs as a military officer in Iraq.
Abrams has the adoration of the Demo-
cratic base. Meanwhile Rice, daughter of a
Federal Reserve governor, brings the pedi-
gree of Upper Northwest D.C.’s private
school elite to the ticket.
Rice’s appeal to Biden is supposedly
that they have a personal relationship. But
Biden’s comfort and familiarity are luxu-
ries we don’t have when we’ve lost five
years of economic growth in one quarter,
when the incumbent president’s pandemic
bungling is killing 1,000 people a day and
when the president talks of putting off the
election while his political appointee dis-
rupts the postal system’s capacity to han-
dle mail-in ballots. Rice’s foreign policy ex-
pertise offers no complement to Biden’s
résumé as former vice president and
chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations
Committee.
Rice’s nomination would open a win-
dow for Republicans to change the subject
from Trump’s woeful handling of the pan-
demic, and now the economy, to relitigat-
ing their tired Benghazi allegations and
endless disputes about “unmasking”
Trump campaign officials and the fantasy
of “Obamagate.” That’s just noise, but
there’s a legitimate case to be made that
she protected Rwandan strongman Paul
Kagame, a former consulting client of
hers, from international efforts to stop
the mass atrocities in Congo set off by
Rwanda-backed rebels.
Rice’s nemesis Graham says Biden se-
lecting her would “be a good move for Re-
publicans. ... I don’t think she’ll wear
well.” I don’t much care what Graham
thinks; Rice’s sentiments about him are
justified, if not her vulgarity. Of more con-
cern is that I heard the exact same warn-
ing — choosing Rice won’t “wear well” —
earlier this week from one of her former
senior colleagues in the Obama White
House. It was the latest reminder that Rice
has a history of turning allies and oppo-
nents alike into enemies.
Most people in politics have sharp el-
bows, and women often get held to an un-
fair standard. Even so, the ill will Rice has
generated is exceptional. Her f-bombs are
legend, to allies at the United Nations, to
U.S. diplomats and to administration col-
leagues. She famously flipped the bird at
Richard Holbrooke, told France’s U.N. am-
bassador that “you’re not going to drag us
into your s---ty war” and drew complaints
of disrespect from allies on the U.N. Secu-
rity Council. She gives as good as she gets
from Trump, asking on Twitter last Sun-
day if he “can’t get it up and over the plate”
after he said he wouldn’t throw out a first
pitch.
In 2012, I wrote a column about the ex-
traordinary resistance to her potential
nomination to be secretary of state and
the “impressive array of enemies” she had
amassed at the State Department and on
Capitol Hill. I noted that “there likely
aren’t enough Republican or Democratic
votes in the Senate to confirm her.”
There weren’t, and she withdrew from
consideration.
Should Biden win, he would be wise to
make good use of Rice’s great brain in his
administration. But not as vice president.
Biden’s greatest appeal is the hope of relief
he offers from government-by-insult and
rule-by-rage. He shouldn’t squander it.
Twitter: @MilbankDANA MILBANK
WASHINGTON SKETCHSusan Rice
would be a
lightning rod
as the VP pick
quest. When I asked for his “theory
of the case” about what’s wrong, he
focused on two areas. The first was
professional competence, which was
demonstrably flawed in two 2017
ship collisions and in Crozier’s ham-
handed handling of the Theodore
Roosevelt. The second involved
character lapses, evident in SEAL
discipline cases and the “Fat Leon-
ard” corruption scandal involving
the Pacific fleet.
The Navy’s recent troubles began
in the Pacific with a long-running
scandal involving a company called
Glenn Defense Marine Asia, run by a
Malaysian man named Leonard
Glenn Francis — known as “Fat Leon-
ard” because of his girth. He supplied
equipment and services to the
7th Fleet in the Pacific and, starting in
the early 2000s, he began catering to
the needs and whims of senior Navy
officers who could give him business.
Too many Navy officers suc-
cumbed. Federal prosecutors filed
charges against 17 Navy officials,
including 10 commissioned officers.
Several dozen more officers were
investigated but not charged. Theyescaped conviction, but their careers
were over. “There has been signifi-
cant impact in flag ranks” from the
Fat Leonard fallout, says Gilday.
“We’ve lost some really good people.”
The Pacific fleet was rocked again
in 2017 by two collisions at sea that
raised basic questions about the
professional competence of officers
and sailors. On June 17, 2017, the
destroyer USS Fitzgerald collided
with a cargo ship off the Japan coast;
seven sailors drowned in their quar-
ters. Disaster struck again two
months later, on Aug. 21, 2017, when
the destroyer USS John S. McCain
steamed into a giant oil tanker off
the coast of Singapore, resulting in
the deaths of 10 s ailors. In both
cases, lack of training and proficien-
cy was part of the problem.
“After the two collisions in 2017,
we asked: ‘Are we building the right
values? What can we do better than
in the past?’ ” Gilday told me. The
Navy revamped its training and
tried to inculcate what Gilday de-
scribes as “fearless communica-
tion” up the chain of command. The
goal: “We need a tougher, moreJABIN BOTSFORD/THE WASHINGTON POST
Navy Adm. Michael M. Gilday at the White House in April.tried to imagine the fortitude required for
Lewis, among hundreds, to face a swarm
of White, baton-wielding troopers, know-
ing that he might die, and to keep moving.
For a man such as Lewis, the source of his
strength may correspond to something I
recently read taped to a restroom mirror.
Handwritten in cursive on flowery note-
paper, it said: “Courage is fear that has
said its prayers.”
Many say the Georgia congressman’s
life mission was divinely inspired; others
have described him as a saint. Among
things providential, I would add the tim-
ing of his death in the midst of a pandem-
ic, urban unrest and a pivotal presidential
election fraught with complexities —
from a sitting president who threatens to
postpone the election to worries about
voter suppression and the potential for
fraud through mail-in ballots. Lewis be-
lieved in the Black Lives Matter move-
ment and continued to counsel nonvio-lent civil disobedience. “Good trouble,” he
called it.
It is good to be reminded of that mes-
sage now, as well as to consider what Bush
called Lewis’s lesson to us all: “That we
must all keep ourselves open to hearing
the call of love.” We don’t often hear words
like that these days.
The grace and eloquence of Bush,
Clinton and Obama were a balm to the
soul of America, as were the words of so
many others, especially the Rev. James
Lawson, 91, who taught Lewis about
nonviolence, and House Speaker Nancy
Pelosi (D- Calif.), whose sometimes emo-
tional eulogy felt like a soothing bedtime
story. Perhaps it was — for a little boy
from Troy, who rehearsed with his chick-
ens the message he would bring to his
community and the nation.
Goodnight and sweet dreams, Con-
gressman. May your soul be rested.
[email protected]Bush was at his authentic best — the
deeply compassionate and humble man
the public rarely got to see — and spoke of
the things that make us human. With
Lewis as a model, he reminded us that
there are other ways to be, to lead and to
govern.
Clinton and Obama were equally mov-
ing in very different ways. I was struck by
the honey-drip tempo of Clinton’s re-
marks, delivered with a touch of nostalgia
and an elder’s appreciation for the good
that even flawed men do. So accustomed
have we become to the rapid-fire riposte,
the staccato of TV talk and the insulting
nit-wittery of twittery, that a thoughtful,
considered speech in no hurry to get some-
where was almost hypnotic.
It was fitting that Obama picked up the
tempo as he was the natural one to take
the baton from Lewis in the ongoing relay
of civil rights. He pointedly spoke of the
segregated world into which Lewis was
born and the farm where his parents
picked “somebody’s else’s cotton.” He
credited Lewis for what he, himself, be-
came — a U.S. senator and the first Black
president of the United States. Through
45 arrests and countless beatings, most
memorably during the Bloody Sunday
march, Lewis helped lead across the Ed-
mund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Ala., he had
paved the way for Obama. The 1965
march itself was nonviolent, but the state
troopers, who had been authorized to use
force by then-Alabama Gov. George Wal-
lace, were not.
Lewis suffered a grave head injury that
day and had to be hospitalized.
I’ve studied film clips of the march andI
n a world seemingly gone mad,
Thursday’s funeral for Rep. John
Lewis offered a refuge of sanity and
presented a confluence of human-
kind’s best qualities — honor, dignity,
humility and grace.
Watching from home and listening to
the eloquent rhetoric of the past three
presidents — George W. Bush, Bill Clinton
and keynote speaker Barack Obama —
felt like dancing with angels, one of whom
was surely Lewis himself. There can be no
question in which direction he headed
upon departure.
Lewis’s life story is well-known by now,
but my favorite anecdote, retold by Bush,
bears repeating. It concerns a little boy
growing up on a farm in Troy, Ala., in the
1940s, who, at age 4, was compelled to
deliver the gospel:
“Every morning, he would rise before
the sun to tend to the flock of chickens,”
said Bush. “He loved those chickens. Al-
ready called to be a minister who took
care of others, John fed them and tended
to their every need. Even their spiritual
ones: for John baptized them, he married
them, and he preached to them. When his
parents claimed one for family supper,
John refused to eat one of his flock. Going
hungry was his first act of nonviolent
protest.”
Though everyone present knew the
story, they laughed and applauded enthu-
siastically. It occurred to me that the
audience’s response owed as much to
Bush’s presence as to his remarks. Grati-
tude, perhaps. And relief that this old-
school Republican and Democrats could
join in common prayer.KATHLEEN PARKERA saint goes marching home
ALYSSA POINTER/REUTERS
A family member places a flower on the casket during the burial service for
Rep. J ohn Lewis (D-Ga.) in Atlanta on Thursday.A
dm. Michael M. Gilday, the
chief of naval operations,
sent a bracing message to
his admirals and chief petty
officers in July after he toured the
aftermath of the horrific fire aboard
the USS Bonhomme Richard in San
Diego.
“My gut tells me our Sailors met
that challenge head on,” Gilday
wrote to his senior staff. His advice:
“Focus on the positive attributes —
that will overcome the negatives we
want to avoid.”
This is the kind of upbeat message
that Navy commanders have for cen-
turies delivered from the bridge
while facing adversity. But is it
enough? After a chain of accidents at
sea, ethical lapses and instances of
poor judgment over the past half-
dozen years, the shipboard fire offers
another siren warning that the Navy
is badly stressed — operating too
hard, with too little training and too
much political interference.
Gilday knows he needs to be a
strong leader now, in the Navy’s time
of troubles. But he faces a heavy lift.
The Navy is the military’s most hier-
archical service, and also the loneli-
est for a commander. Serving as the
chief of naval operations, or CNO, is
a special challenge for Gilday, 57,
who was jumped from three stars to
four a year ago w hen he was named
to the top post, bypassing other,
more senior admirals.
A quiet, self-effacing man, Gilday
is impossible not to like. But in his
first year as CNO, he has struggled to
keep the Navy’s balance as President
Trump overruled his recommenda-
tion on a discipline case involving a
Navy SEAL, and acting Navy secre-
tary Thomas B. Modly short-
c ircuited his investigation of the
dismissal of Capt. Brett Crozier of
the USS Theodore Roosevelt after an
outbreak of covid-19. “Gilday lost a
year,” says a former four-star. He’s
only now planting his flag.
Gilday discussed the Navy’s prob-
lems with me during a frank, hour-
long interview, initiated at his re-resilient sailor than what we saw in
those two collisions.”
The Navy’s troubles continued
with the SEALs, an elite force whose
members were exhausted by a decade
of almost continual deployment to
the killing zones of Iraq and Afghani-
stan. A breaking point was the case of
Eddie Gallagher, a Navy chief petty
officer convicted of a war crime in
2019 after circulating a photo of
himself with the corpse of an Islamic
State prisoner killed in Iraq. The
Navy tried to maintain its disciplin-
ary standards. But Gallagher’s law-
yers mounted a campaign for him on
Fox News, and Trump intervened to
countermand the Navy’s decision.
The outcome was devastating for
the Navy, which had been trying to
rebuild character within the SEALs
by encouraging younger members to
report abuses by overworked, undis-
ciplined warriors such as Gallagher.
“Your character is like any other
muscle,” explains a retired admiral
who helped oversee the Gallagher
investigation. “If it is constantly
stressed, it’s going to get fatigued.”
The Crozier incident was one
more fireball for the Navy. G ilday
initially balked at ousting Crozier,
favoring an investigation first, but
Modly, the acting Navy secretary,
wanting to anticipate Trump’s wish-
es, fired Crozier — and then stepped
down himself. Gilday eventually re-
moved Crozier in June, concluding
after a careful inquiry that the cap-
tain hadn’t adequately taken care of
safety onboard.
Can Gilday be the leader the Navy
needs? He’s off to a rocky start, but
he has time to recover if he takes
firm command now. If Gilday has a
normal tour, he probably has three
more years at the helm. That should
be time to fill the wardroom with a
team of trusted officers, take the
bridge and get the Navy moving, at
flank speed.
Twitter: @IgnatiusPostFor a longer version of this column, visit
wapo.st/ignatius-navy.DAVID IGNATIUSWhat it will take to fix the Navy —
and who can do it
BING GUAN/REUTERS
Firefighting boats spray water onto the amphibious assault ship
USS Bonhomme Richard in San Diego last month.