George Shultz’s signature service as President Ronald Reagan’s secretary of state gave ample evidence that the conservative movement can be very wrong.
Shultz, who died Saturday at age 100, deserves to be ranked among the greatest public servants this nation has ever known. All the encomiums to him since he died rightly note that he served in World War II, in four Cabinet-level positions, and in lead roles in academic and in international business. They note his graciousness, intelligence, and sense of duty. And, of course, they note that he “helped” Reagan win the Cold War.
What few tributes to Shultz capture, though, is just how much Reagan relied on him. They also miss just how little appreciated he was by the Gipper’s own conservative supporters until years after the Reagan presidency ended.
If you attended any Conservative Political Action Conference from 1983 through 1988, back when CPAC was still the meeting place for conservative thought and networking rather than the province of demagogues and grifters, you might remember that the mere mention of Shultz’s name always elicited more hisses than cheers. (Not boos, mind you: Conservatives back then were still too polite for that.) If memory serves, there were several years in which Shultz wasn’t even invited to speak. When he did speak there, he usually was greeted with a sort of grim politesse along with pointed questions rather than with warmth or enthusiasm.
For some reason, perhaps because of his work for President Richard Nixon’s administration, Shultz, in the conservative imagination, inhabited the realm of the “moderate” establishmentarians constantly thought to be undermining the imperative to “let Reagan be Reagan.” For conservative sensibilities, Shultz wasn’t bellicose enough or sufficiently prone to bright-line statements.
It’s not that conservatives despised Shultz. He wasn’t exactly seen as weak or as a sop to the Soviets, and he was recognized for competence, intelligence, and vaguely conservative instincts. He didn’t back down from confrontations with appeasement-oriented senators such as Joe Biden, either. Still, conservatives thought he was too cautious, too nuanced, and too friendly to the professional foreign service ranks they entirely distrusted.
As it turned out, the conservative movement was wrong about Shultz. His steadiness and lack of flamboyance was a sign not of weakness but of wisdom. Rather than being the emissary of the foreign service to Reagan, he was Reagan’s emissary to the foreign service so that it would not so avidly undercut his aims.
They were aims Shultz himself shared. Like Reagan, he really did believe the Cold War could be won, peacefully, rather than merely managed. He really did believe in peace through strength. He really did believe that free markets and free men would triumph over the brute force of a regimented state.
Reagan’s own hand-written presidential diaries tell the tale. Shultz is a constant presence in them. Reagan’s fondness for and trust in his secretary of state was palpable. Reagan put stock in Shultz’s judgment and counted on Shultz to carry out his directives. He was of one mind with Schultz all along about the need to reach out to Soviet leadership diplomatically even as they pressured the Kremlin economically and by arming anti-communist surrogates around the world.
Reagan’s worldview and willpower clearly drove the agenda, but Shultz was no mere functionary. Shultz was a nearly co-equal conceptualizer with Reagan while acting as the primary implementer. Conservatives have rarely put such character and competence to better use.
Shultz remained thoughtful and active for 32 years after Reagan left office, with his mind sharp and incisive beyond his 100th year. Not just conservatives, but all people, should be profoundly grateful for a century of Shultz.
