SECRETARY CLINTON:
This is a very moving moment to honor someone whose life and work truly
exemplify the meaning of “search for common ground.” And I greatly
appreciate everyone who has supported this organization and its mission
over a number of years, John Marks and Susan Collin Marks, my longtime
friend Ambassador George Moose, members of the Diplomatic Corps, and
supporters of Search for Common Ground. I also want to congratulate all
of tonight’s honorees.
It’s a special privilege and honor to have Chris’s sister Anne with
us tonight. This has been for everyone a very difficult, personal
ordeal. But of course, for Chris’s family, it has been so much more.
They grieve and they remember. And they have shown such grace and
dignity in the weeks since they were thrust into the harsh spotlight of
history.
In the rush of headlines, it is easy to forget that at the center of
this national tragedy was such a real person, with passion and
principles, with humor and irony, with ambition and humility, with
friends and colleagues and loved ones.
Chris Stevens was a son of the West. He hiked and jogged and danced
his way through the hills and forests of northern California, and then
he did it in Libya. He loved the cool, refreshing fog of the Bay Area,
the sight of the Golden Gate, and the warm embrace of his family. But
his family gave him not only roots but wings. And he shared the restless
soul of the frontier. His mother liked to say that he had sand in his
shoes, always moving and running and working, seeking out new challenges
and adventures. And there was music in his life. The son of a cellist,
he himself played the saxophone, which, of course, for me – (laughter).
Friends in Jerusalem remember his passion for Palestinian songs, as he
would serenade them in Arabic.
When Chris first took the Foreign Service exam in college, he was
asked to compare American democracy with the freewheeling energy of
jazz. One of his closest friends, Steve McDonald, remembers spending
hours discussing the question, about experimentation and improvisation,
about the relationship between a brilliant soloist and a band that all
have to pull together to achieve harmony. Later, Steve would come to
think of Chris as a jazz diplomat. That really resonates with anyone who
ever worked with or knew Chris, who saw his creativity and inspiration
up close.
Jazz musicians like to talk about playing the changes. Their art lies
in the space between structure and spontaneity. Yes, they do master the
technique, but then they begin to improvise. And that is how Chris
worked. A young Foreign Service officer who was with him in Libya
marveled at Chris’s appetite for history and culture. He stayed up late
reading memoirs of former Libyan leaders and delighted in sharing
obscure historical trivia and cracking jokes not just in Arabic but in
the local dialect.
Other colleagues remember his endless patience and talent for
listening, two characteristics that really are required to be a
successful diplomat. As one of Chris’s friends explained recently, you
develop a relationship and a personal connection, and a series of
connections become a network. Many Americans, well, we start at A and
work down the list to F. But A to B is not a straight line, and Chris
had an instinctive feel for this, how to get things done. He understood
not just the science of diplomacy but the art. He heard the music and
the words. And he was committed to his mission of helping others find
their own freedom.
He found a second home amidst the shifting deserts and crowded cities
of the Middle East. He climbed the Atlas Mountains, he wandered through
Syrian souks, he jogged through Libyan olive groves. And he had so many
moments of common ground.
When the revolution broke out in Libya, I asked Chris to travel to Benghazi. And he did so on a Greek cargo ship, like a 19th century envoy. It certainly appealed to his romantic side. But his work was very much 21st
century hardnosed diplomacy and relationship building. Even when a bomb
exploded in the parking lot of the hotel where he was staying, he never
wavered.
Chris would have been the first to say that the terrorists who attacked our mission in Benghazi on September 11th
did not represent the millions of Libyans who want peace and deplore
violence. You saw and you heard the President’s inspired and inspiring
words about that. Chris understood that most people, in Libya or
anywhere, reject the extremist arguments that violence and death are the
only way to reclaim dignity and achieve justice. He understood that’s
why he was in Libya, and there was no substitute for going beyond the
Embassy walls, building relationships, and finding common ground. He
also knew that when America is absent, especially from the dangerous
places, there are consequences. Extremism takes root, our interests
suffer, and our security at home is threatened.
The State Department sends people to more than 275 posts in 170
countries around the world. Chris understood that diplomats must operate
in many places where soldiers do not, where there are no other boots on
the ground, and security is far from guaranteed. And he volunteered for
those kinds of assignments. He understood that we will never prevent
every act of terrorism or achieve perfect security in this world, and
that our diplomats cannot work in bunkers and do their jobs, that we
inevitably must accept a level of risk to protect our country, a country
we love, and to advance our interests and values.
Of course, it is also our responsibility to constantly improve, to
reduce the risks our people face, to make sure they have the resources
they need to do what we ask of them. And nobody takes that more
seriously than I do, and the security professionals at the State
Department. We now have a formal Accountability Review Board
investigating the terrorist attack that killed Chris, and we will
certainly apply its recommendations and lessons learned to improving
security everywhere. It’s appropriate that we do so based on facts and
evidence. Chris’s family, his colleagues at the Department, and the
American people deserve nothing less.
As that process moves forward, though, we are taking immediate steps
to bolster security and readiness. We’ve dispatched teams, joint teams
from the Department of State and Defense, to review high-threat posts to
determine whether there are other improvements we need in light of the
evolving security challenges we now face.
The men and women who serve our country overseas represent the best
traditions of a bold and generous nation, and they are no strangers to
danger. From Tehran and Beirut to Islamabad, East Africa, and Saudi
Arabia, and now in Benghazi, and many other places in between over the
years, we have seen our diplomats devoted to peace targeted by
terrorists devoted to death. But we cannot, indeed we must not, be
intimidated. We have to remain focused and clear in our vision of the
kind of world we seek to build.
Chris Stevens was an inspiration to all who served with him and knew
him during his life. He remains an inspiration now and I believe far
into the future, because he exemplified the best of what we stand for,
who we are as a people. And he believed in the search for common ground.
So we thank you for recognizing this brave and good man, this
consummate diplomat, this American hero. And now please join me in
welcoming Anne Stevens to the stage. (Applause.)
