May 2021 will mark two years since CIA legend Charles Seidel died while on a business trip to Saudi Arabia.
A young 62 years old, he was working in the private sector in a region and among a people he truly loved. "Charlie," as those of us in the CIA knew him, was not only my friend and mentor but also at one time the U.S. government’s preeminent expert on the Middle East. Charlie was on a first-name basis with kings, prime ministers, tribal sheikhs, street sweepers, and shopkeepers. Mentioning Charlie within the halls of power and palaces in Iraq, Jordan, Egypt, or Saudi Arabia would gain you instant access to officials who mattered. Saying his name to a barber in downtown Amman would evoke a huge smile and laugh, and a demand to be able to send sweets and gifts to a man seen as one of their own.
Put simply, Charlie is a legend. He was the last great Arabist of our time, a true ambassador of America to a troubled region. While U.S. foreign policy mistakes often dominate political chatter, Charlie’s purity of heart and noble intentions influenced generations of Arabs. They saw his goodness, and by default, the goodness of America. To say that many of us miss him is an understatement as grand as the pyramids of Giza.
Charlie was born in Northern Virginia and grew up a CIA brat. His father being a senior agency officer, Charlie lived overseas and obtained an appreciation of other cultures. A rebel as a youth, with his long hair and guitar-playing abilities, he joined the CIA in 1980. Charlie learned Arabic and served in multiple field assignments in the Middle East. He spoke this most difficult of languages fluently. During his 26-year career, in which he was promoted to the senior intelligence service ranks and was the senior intelligence community representative in multiple postings, Charlie never served a single day at CIA headquarters. Somehow, the powers that be saw to it that Charlie's time would never be "wasted" in Washington. They knew his skills were desperately needed in the Arab world. Charlie was a two-time recipient of the Intelligence Star, one of the CIA’s highest honors for bravery, and he led our efforts in Baghdad in the spring of 2003 as the senior U.S. intelligence representative during the invasion of Iraq. I was fortunate to be with Charlie at this time and only wished that his recommendations and later pleas for what a post-war Iraq should look like had been listened to by Washington. Instead, Charlie was ignored, and a calamity was unleashed. Unperturbed, Charlie returned to Iraq time and again, even in the private sector. He loved Iraq and its people, particularly the Kurds, who he remained close to until his death.
On a personal-professional level, Charlie’s effect on me was profound. He taught me how to be a CIA case officer, a spy. He showed me how to operate successfully under pressure, not to sweat the small stuff, and to treat every agent, individuals CIA officers recruit to share their secrets, with respect and honor. Most of all, he taught me to act with humility.
From my personal perspective, Charlie’s finest moment came after I returned from Iraq with post-traumatic stress syndrome. I was not well and was having incessant nightmares. I called him in distress. Charlie then invited me, my family — and, in fact, his entire Baghdad team — to his beloved cottage on Cape Cod. There, we ate, drank, swam, and told stories together, and after two weeks, this therapy for my soul allowed me to heal properly. My wife will never forget what he did to help me in some very dark moments. At his funeral, I was brought to tears seeing pictures of us together in Iraq on display. Charlie retired far too early, in 2006, as sadly — as so often is the case — he was not treated kindly by the CIA at the end of his career. That said, there are finally plans to honor Charlie at CIA headquarters in the near future. Charlie's family, which he adored and which shared his adventures in the Middle East, certainly deserves to see him celebrated as such.
There's a broader point to note here. The new leadership team at the CIA should take steps to ensure that Charlie's exit experience, and that of many officers like him, becomes a rarer exception to the rule.
Still, Charlie's story didn't end with his Langley exit. He continued working in the private sector, traveling for months at a time to the Middle East. I recall a meeting with Charlie at the Four Seasons hotel in Amman. Cigar in hand and a tumbler of Scotch at his side, Charlie commanded the room just as he had in government service, with an infectious smile, laugh, and twinkle in his eye. Charlie’s trip to an Arab capital, even in retirement, resulted in kings and prime ministers clearing their schedules. When we heard he was coming, we knew that a dinner was in order, and that our foreign partners would expect business to cease as a titan of the region returned.
In April 2019, I called Charlie for the first time in many months, as I missed hearing his laughter and perpetual optimism. There was an odd ring tone to the call, and it turns out he was in Riyadh. As usual, he was upbeat. After we had finished the call, I thought to myself how incredible it was that Charlie had taught and mentored nearly the entire senior officer cadre of the CIA’s legendary Near East Division.
Charlie makes me think of the biblical proverb: "One who walks with the wise becomes wise." We all walked with Charlie. His effect on the clandestine service was profound. That phone call was the last time I talked to him before he died just weeks later. But Charlie's legacy will live eternal.
Marc Polymeropoulos is a former CIA senior operations officer. He retired in 2019 after a 26-year career serving in the Near East and South Asia. His book Clarity in Crisis: Leadership Lessons From the CIA will be published in June 2021 by Harper Collins.
