Henry Hyde, R.I.P.

I last saw Henry Hyde at the  final hearing  at which  he presided as Chairman of the International Relations Committee.  Months later, despite the  passage of control to another party,  a larger-than-life portrait of  Hyde still hangs in hearing room of the re-named Foreign Affairs Committee.  Nearly all that has been written about Henry Hyde after his  passage yesterday  has focused on his role in Whitewater or his steadfast opposition to abortion — in other words, things about which the journalists writing history’s first draft make their disagreements with Hyde a  bit too obvious.  I do not mean to depict Henry Hyde as a man without flaws;  I mean  to correct this distortion  by adding what  others have chosen to  overlook — matters that  history ought to remember as at least equally significant.  History’s better-edited draft will reflect the esteem in which he was held by colleagues of both parties: 

“It is with profound sadness that I receive this news. My dear friend, Henry Hyde, was a giant. His integrity, intelligence and patriotism were of towering proportions. Our deep personal friendship always transcended partisan political considerations and was reminiscent of an era of congressional collegiality. Henry’s passionate commmitment to public service and to the American people will serve as a beacon for generations.

“Henry Hyde was a strong and effective chairman and deeply engaged in U.S. foreign policy. Under Henry’s leadership, Congress approved groundbreaking, bi-partisan legislation to fund the global battle against the scourge of HIV/AIDS. The U.S. Leadership Against HIV/AIDS, Tuberculosis and Malaria Act of 2003 would not have happened without Henry’s strength and persistence, and it stands as a testament to his life and work. We are now in the midst of renewing the mandate of this vital legislation, and Henry’s leading role in it will be very much on his colleagues’ minds.  [Chairman Tom Lantos]  

Powerfully shaped by his service in World War II, Hyde projected America’s values and sought to wield American influence to help Asian societies  evolve toward freedom, justice, and equality.   Hyde demonstrated this  by  speaking up for the victims of Japan’s wartime sexual slavery and opposing the practice of honoring Japanese war criminals.  On one occasion, he even went so far as to threaten to disinvite a Japanese  President from visting Congress.   To some, this stance was controversial, unnecessarily disturbing an ally whose contemporary behavior is far more responsible.  But Hyde understood the importance of applying principle with consistency, even to one’s friends.  He understood that by demanding that Japan face and account for the crimes of its past, he could better help Japan bring home its abductees from North Korea.  Hyde put the world on notice that history would remember,  to better  deter other crimes.  Nor did Hyde ever forget the one abductee from Illinois, an elderly, wheelchair-bound pastor who couldn’t even vote for him.

To those with an interest in Korea, Hyde will be remembered with reverence for his moral clarity about North Korea.  Hyde saw North Korea for the threat to regional peace and security it chose as a disturbingly profitable business model.  Hyde was among the first observers of South Korea’s dangerous loss of clarity in that regard.  He was particularly disturbed by South Korea’s silence in the face of a quiet slaughter of millions of North Koreans, and his advocacy for their survival shows us just that “quiet diplomacy” still has  meaning beyond farce. 

Hyde was also privately furious about the  disgraceful treatment of American soldiers by too many  South Koreans, and I will personally never forget that it was Henry Hyde who invited me to address his committee on their behalf. 

When violent,  North Korean-inspired rioters tried to tear down a statue of Douglas MacArthur  at Incheon, on the fourth anniversary of 9/11, South Korea’s leftist president, Roh Moo Hyun mumbled  a few words of  token disapproval,  while some of his co-partisans in the National Assembly seemed positively sympathetic.  It was a moment that clarified South Korea’s stunning ambivalence about the values that so many Americans had died to preserve in South Korea.  The  event was particularly symbolic for its location and for its timing.  It was clearly intended as a symbolic attack on America and its values, notwithstanding the fact that those values were the genesis of Korea’s prosperity and even the possibility of that protest.  When no one else would, Hyde found a quiet, powerful way to  force Korea to confont the widening gap between its values and America’s by going to the statue and offering his former commander a final salute:

Before this old Congressman joins his former Commander and also fades away, let me offer a few reflections on what General MacArthur’s legacy means to the people of the United States, the people of Korea, and the people of the Asia/Pacific.

[Discussion of MacArthur’s liberation of the Philippines and has magnanimous occupation of Japan.]

Yet, even this achievement was not MacArthur’s finest hour. No, it was here, in the harbor just beyond where this statue stands in lasting tribute, that General MacArthur reached the zenith of his distinguished career. On September 15, 1950, the General directed those U.S., Allied and South Korean forces, who rode the crest of the high tides for which Incheon is world famous, to victory once again.

Sixteen nations responded, under the UN banner, to South Korea’s call for assistance by providing combat troops. Three of those nations — Australia, the Philippines and the United Kingdom – are represented here today. Five other nations provided medical assistance. We express our thanks to all of these nations for their efforts in the common cause of Korean liberty.

For in this victory at Incheon, MacArthur, and the troops he commanded, delivered the people of South Korea from evil — the evil of that oppressive regime which lies a mere few miles to the North, where children still starve and Christians still suffer martyrdom for mere utterance of the words, “Deliver us from evil.

And, so, I ask our good friends and allies in the Asia/Pacific — in Australia, in the Philippines, in Japan, and, most importantly, here in the Republic of Korea — to remember how the old soldier depicted in this statue touched their nations in his rendezvous with destiny.

I look at the gleaming office towers of Seoul, the modern highway which brought us here today, and this port city of Incheon, a transshipment point for that commerce which has made the Republic of Korea the eleventh largest economy in the world, and I say, “Thank God for General MacArthur.

I view today a democracy in full bloom, where every South Korean citizen feels empowered to publicly voice his or her opinion, and say, “Thank God for MacArthur’s victory at Incheon. Such freedom was, of course, not free. The price of that freedom which South Koreans enjoy today was paid, not only by the blood shed here in the battle of Incheon, but also by the blood of patriots who died in the streets of Gwangju. Those who died in Kwangju are martyrs for liberty, just as were the American patriots who bled and died at Lexington and Concord. And, so, we salute them.

I am well aware that there are those in South Korea today who take a different view of this battle site and of this monument. There are those who even say that they wish General MacArthur had never come to Incheon, as Korea would then be united. My mother’s family came from another divided country, Ireland, so I have some understanding of the pain caused by this tragic political separation. But at what price should unity be purchased? At the loss of peace and prosperity? At the loss of liberty?

In his farewell address back in 1951, General MacArthur said: “Of the nations of the world, Korea alone, up to now, is the sole one which has risked its all against communism. The magnificence of the courage and fortitude of the Korean people defies description. They have chosen to risk death rather than slavery.

I ask the people of South Korea to remember these words and also to recall what the statue here of General MacArthur symbolizes. This statue stands for more than just one man, great a man though he was. It stands for fidelity. In times of war and in times of peace, the American people have stood with you — in times of tension and in times of calm — in times of want and in times of plenty.

There have been sweeping changes in the world since the Berlin Wall came down and the Cold War ended. Korea has found new friends. But there is an old American proverb which states, “Make new friends, but keep the old; one is silver but the other is gold. General MacArthur’s legacy is pure gold.

Now the time has come for this old Congressman, who, like MacArthur, “tried to do his duty as God gave him the light to see that duty,” to offer his old Commander one last salute.

[SALUTE IN DIRECTION OF STATUE]

And I join General MacArthur in bidding you all a fond farewell.

He was a giant among giants, a gentleman to all, and a man whose consistency and determination were never stronger  than when he defended those who could not defend themselves.  He was the single most powerful voice for the tortured people of North Korea, most of whom will never know his name.  We will miss him.

Update:   If you want to send condolences, here is the address:

The Hyde Family
P.O. Box 501
Batavia, IL 60510