overtures. So when this one did — he was off-puttingly distant, stiff, and unfriendly — she took that as a characteristic of the people. I suspect the man was more concerned that she was the wing commander’s wife than that he was talking to a woman without a veil. Nonetheless, she came away with the idea that Arab men patronize women.
When Mary Jo concluded, “So you see, General Behery, Arab men are stuck up and snooty when they talk to me, and that’s why I don’t like to talk to them,” he actually beamed with amusement. And his good humor remained as he explained to both of us why Arab men are somewhat aloof when dealing with Western women (they are not used to the aggressive behavior of strangers, especially women). Then, becoming quite serious, he gave us a nutshell lecture about the differences between the Arab and the Western view of women.
What he had to say was no surprise — the usual line that in his culture women are held in high esteem, much as they were in our South before the Civil War. For that reason, it is considered important to protect the sanctity of women, and ill-mannered for a man to talk directly to another man’s wife. That is the reason for the veils and flowing garments. They protect women, he told us, much as one protects honey from flies by placing a cloth over the bowl. And yet he didn’t stop there. The time he had spent in the United States had made him familiar enough with our culture to be aware that our women resented the kind of protection Arab men and women take for granted. He knew that what was protection for an Arab woman was suppression for an American. And he had no problems with that. In fact, Behery saw both cultures for what there were: both had good and bad elements. Good people in each culture who did the right thing for the right reasons would make each culture work, while bad people would screw things up, no matter where they were.
The conversation, which went on for hours, was a little revelation — not because he’d told us anything new, but because he was truthful, open, sensitive, and fair. I loved his honesty, insight, and understanding. Or as Bill Creech used to say, “You only get one chance to make a first impression.” In this case, the impression Behery made was decidedly favorable.
Break Break. It was now seven years later. I had been told I was going to replace Bill Kirk as Ninth Air Force commander, but it had not been announced. Bill Kirk was about to take our boss, Bob Russ, around the Middle East, so Bob could see how the TAC men and women were living and serving in those countries: Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, Oman, and Pakistan. Since this would become my beat, Bob took me along. While I was in Saudi, I met Behery again, and was even more impressed when I saw him on his own turf.
Americans have a tendency to look down on other people (I’ve done that myself). But when we meet foreigners who exceed our rather low opinion of what they should be, we tend to go too far in the other direction and get overawed by them. Let me tell you, all the Arab leaders that I met, colonel and above, were very impressive, and not because I was overawed — Turki at Dhahran, Sudairy in Riyadh, Henadi at RSAF, on and on. These men are truly exceptional individuals, regardless of where they are from.
In my journeys around Saudi Arabia, I found a far different country from ours. It’s quiet, for one thing — a quiet that comes from the isolation; there aren’t many people there; so for a New Yorker it must be hell on earth, but for an Iowan it is natural. The food is strange but good. And I love the exotic customs and traditions, the extremely handsome architecture, the smells of spice. The weather is hot and dry, to be sure, but I can take that. You don’t miss our television; and besides, you get to hear prayer call now and then during the day, especially before sunup and at sunset. This is beautiful, even though you don’t understand the words. And finally, the tradition of the desert demands that hosts honor guests; there is nothing that competes with the welcome provided by an Arab host; he is delighted to honor his guest. Truly all that he has is at your disposal. Your home is his home.
Saudi Arabia is not my land or my home, but I have loved it more than I could love many of the places where I’ve visited or lived in my own country. A binding and genuine friendship with the Saudi land and people has grown steadily over the years and has touched me deeply.
After I took over Ninth Air Force, I made regular visits to the Middle East to visit my troops and see to their needs, to work issues associated with the prepositioned materials in the region, and to forge relationships with the leaders of the various nations’ air forces. Sometimes these negotiations were very difficult, yet they were always carried on with mutual respect. Each side knew the other was only trying to do the best for his country — certainly an honorable motive.
I sensed, too, that they held (and still hold) the USAF in high respect, and I made sure we did nothing to weaken that esteem. So when one of our people committed an unlawful act, I took quick action — not primarily to come down hard on whoever was responsible, but to make sure that the countries involved know that Americans respect their national sovereignty.
In time I began to read all I could about the region and came to appreciate the long and rich history that goes back well before Europeans were still clubbing supper and living in skin shelters. I studied Islam and discovered its similarities with Judaism and Christianity. There is a common heritage that is lost when the doctrinaire types feud over ideas that are human interpretations of what God is all about, not what God thinks he is all about. Most significantly, I discovered that Arabs respect Americans because we work hard, we honor our own religion (or at least most of us do), and because we have for the most part dealt with them honorably.
On numerous occasions in those years, I negotiated with the various nations in the region about cooperation in the event of a crisis there. And we were involved in a number of major operations, such as protection of the oil fields and refineries during the Iran-Iraq War and the tanker reflagging and escort of Kuwaiti tankers down the Arabian Gulf and through the Strait of Hormuz during the time when the Iranian Revolutionary Guard were attacking them. I also helped out where I could: I spoke in their war colleges, I attended joint and combined exercises in the region, and I visited their people in the United States… little things and big things, because it was my job and because it was the right thing to do.
I soon became sensitive to the way Arabs have been presented to the American people. Not well. It’s another zero-sum game. Because we’re pro-Israel (and I have no quarrel with that), we look down on the Arabs. When was the last time Chuck Norris fought a terrorist who wasn’t Asian or Arab? Ignorant terms like “Islamic fundamentalist terrorist” fill our newspapers — as though all Muslims were fundamentalists and terrorists. Sure, I have met Arabs I don’t like or trust. And there are as many dumb son-of-a-bitch Arabs as there are in any culture, but the Arab military officers I have worked with have earned my respect, and I hope they hold me in the same regard.
Trust takes time, but when you have it, you have a wonderful gift. I cannot tell you how binding the emotions are between me and my close Saudi and other Arab friends; it is genuine and deep.
? Jeddah is located on the Red Sea about midway down the Saudi coast. It is a large city, the capital of the westernmost province of the kingdom, and the port of entry for pilgrims to the holy city of Mecca. The airport is vast, and during the hajj, millions of travelers pass through it from all over the world to travel to Mecca. It is a beautiful, majestic city, old and new, with blue sky, blue water, and blue hazy mountains to the east. Its mosques are lovely, quiet, and splendid. There are grand parks along the waterfront, palm trees, and old buildings built out of huge blocks of coral cut from the sea, their balconies decorated with delicate carved wooden screens. A giant water fountain shoots water high into the air. The same sailing ships Arab seamen have used for centuries fill the harbor.
Because of its long history as a port, codes aren’t enforced as strictly in Jeddah (or in Dhahran, on the Gulf) as in the interior. For example, foreign women are not harassed when their hair is uncovered as much as they are in Riyadh. And because of its proximity to the sea and to more moderate weather, the summer palace is located there — actually beside the sea, in a grove of date palms.
The American party descended the aircraft ramp past the Saudi honor guard and the ever-present television cameras with their satellite hookups. As always, CNN was there, which got a laugh from Horner. He couldn’t tell his wife where he was going, yet when she turned on the morning news, there’d be her husband in Jeddah walking down the steps behind Secretary Cheney.
Soon they were in the Saudi VOQ, which was inland about ten blocks from the palace. Like the palace, the VOQ was surrounded by date palms, which provided much-needed shade from the glaring sun and gave cool relief from the hot ride in from the airport. Hot gaua followed by hot sweet tea was offered.
