"I don't want or expect anything for what I've done," Musharraf replied. "Tony, I did it because it was the right thing to do."

ON MY final trips to the region in the spring and summer of 2000, I was deeply moved by the reception I received from my many friends. Their expressions of appreciation for what we had done and the relationships we had built made me feel we were well on our way to stabilizing this volatile part of the world. I knew, however, that we had a long way to go. This was a dangerous neighborhood. The region needed to make many political, social, economic, and security reforms, but it needed time, s.p.a.ce, and support (and, in some cases, prodding) to get these done. I felt we could help effect these changes by providing this help. final trips to the region in the spring and summer of 2000, I was deeply moved by the reception I received from my many friends. Their expressions of appreciation for what we had done and the relationships we had built made me feel we were well on our way to stabilizing this volatile part of the world. I knew, however, that we had a long way to go. This was a dangerous neighborhood. The region needed to make many political, social, economic, and security reforms, but it needed time, s.p.a.ce, and support (and, in some cases, prodding) to get these done. I felt we could help effect these changes by providing this help.

During my time at CENTCOM, every country except the Seych.e.l.les was continually under a terrorist threat. We had conducted a series of military actions against Iraq, while continuing to enforce sanctions against that nation. We had contained Iran and opened new relations with Yemen and the Central Asian States. We had dealt with wars in Sudan, Somalia, Ethiopia, Eritrea, and Tajikistan. Our responses to crises in Pakistan, Africa, and elsewhere had ranged from humanitarian a.s.sistance, to evacuation of U.S. citizens, to mediation of disputes.

It was an incredible experience.

In the summer of 2000, I transferred command of CENTCOM to Army General Tommy Franks, and my thirty-nine-year career as a Marine ended.

BUT IT was not the final chapter of my CENTCOM story. was not the final chapter of my CENTCOM story.

On Thursday, October 12, 2000, Al Qaeda terrorists suicide-bombed the American destroyer USS Cole, Cole, then refueling in the harbor of Aden, Yemen. Seventeen young Americans were killed, and the then refueling in the harbor of Aden, Yemen. Seventeen young Americans were killed, and the Cole Cole was out of action for years. Somebody had to take the blame for allowing this tragedy to take place. The buck had to stop somewhere. was out of action for years. Somebody had to take the blame for allowing this tragedy to take place. The buck had to stop somewhere.

Some people looked at an obvious target, the ship's captain. But the folks who like to point fingers whenever bad things happen to our soldiers, Marines, airmen, or sailors wanted to hang somebody higher up. The finger landed on me.

Fine. That's where the buck stopped.

So when the chief of naval operations tried to pin the bombing on me, I wasn't surprised. He accused me of setting up the refueling station in Aden because I wanted to improve relations with Yemen.

That accusation brought on a call from Senator Warner of Virginia, the chairman of the Armed Services Committee. "Look," he said, "I'm getting hammered by my const.i.tuents. They're asking questions about the Cole. Cole. The American people need to learn the truth. We need to have the hearings. We've asked the Secretary of Defense and the top military to testify, but they will not appear. We can't get them to come. That leaves you, Tony." He apologized for that. "You need to come testify. The American people need to learn the truth. We need to have the hearings. We've asked the Secretary of Defense and the top military to testify, but they will not appear. We can't get them to come. That leaves you, Tony." He apologized for that. "You need to come testify.

"It's going to be hard," he continued. "We're going to put you through a lot. . . . I'm going to put you through a lot."

"I'll do it," I said. It was the only right thing to do.

I was grilled by fourteen senators, three hours under klieg lights (a lot of press was there), with no break (not even to p.i.s.s). And I got hammered with questions.

Before I went in, I'd decided I would take full responsibility for this thing. I was the CINC and everything that happened in my AOR was my responsibility. If I didn't, they'd dump it down on some poor son of a b.i.t.c.h like the captain of the ship. Somebody senior had to stand up. I remembered how hard they had hit General Peay for the Khobar Towers attack. When he tried to explain what happened during his testimony, they took it as waffling and not standing up to his responsibilities (which was far from the case). I was tired of admirals and generals trying to pa.s.s the buck. I was really upset with the chief of naval operations for trying to pin the blame on anybody else . . . it didn't matter who. And I was enraged at the Washington blame game.

So I decided, "What the h.e.l.l. The buck stops here." And that's what I said in my testimony: "I was the commander in chief who made the decision that we would refuel in there," I told the senators. "I'm fine with that. If it was the wrong decision, you can hold me responsible for it.

"Now I'll give you the circ.u.mstances, I'll tell you what happened, and why I made the decision: "Yes, it's true that I wanted to improve relations with Yemen, but that was not the reason we chose to refuel in Yemen. We chose to refuel there for operational and not diplomatic or political reasons. It was the only practical port for our naval component to refuel their ships.

"The Navy has rules about fuel levels on their ships," I explained. "In normal operations, they don't let that level go below fifty-one percent.

"Ships traveling out of the Mediterranean could of course refuel in the Persian Gulf, but in many cases ships didn't have enough capacity to get there without exceeding the fifty-one percent limit. That meant they had to find a refueling port between Suez and the Gulf. These were the possibilities: Djibouti, Eritrea, Jeddah, and Aden. That was it. Djibouti had been the Navy's refueling port, but it was now a no-go. Eritrea was out because of the war with Ethiopia. Jeddah was out because we'd just had the bombings in Saudi Arabia. So there was no other choice.

"We looked hard at Aden. The Navy went in and vetted it, inspected it, and cleared it; and the Navy component for CENTCOM had the responsibility for security. We refueled twenty-eight ships during my tenure as CINC, and all without incident.

"Yet, having said that, there's no getting around the risk. There is no risk-free place in that part of the world to refuel ships.

"If we're going to have people out there, if we're going to have people traveling around doing security a.s.sistance work, if we're going to have forces on the ground training and exercising, if we're going to have a presence out there day to day, responding to operations, in an environment that's really hostile and where people are out to get us, and they're watching our every move looking for an opportunity to hurt us, we're going to have times when our people are going to get hurt."

The senators walked out of that meeting satisfied with what I'd said; and it all ended there.

Later, to Tommy Franks's credit, he stepped up to the plate and said, "I agree with General Zinni's decision. I would have made the same one. It made military sense."

The CENTCOM experience taught me a lot about the world and the role of our great nation in it. We could make a difference if we were committed to stand up to our obligations, not only as the last remaining superpower, but also as the last beacon of hope for many people on this planet.

Forty years as a Marine taught me that the only place to be is in the center of the arena. You get knocked down out there and you make mistakes. But you also realize that it sure beats sitting in the grandstands criticizing those who have the guts to be out there. And every once in a while you can make a difference.

I adjusted, with some difficulty, to civilian life and retirement after four decades of service. I missed the Corps and the arena that gave me a tremendous sense of fulfillment. Little did I realize that another form of service awaited me.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

WARRIOR PEACEMAKER.

AFTER NEARLY FOUR DECADES in the United States Marine Corps, Tony Zinni found it hard to adjust to a different life. He knew he had to move on to another phase, yet months pa.s.sed before the new phase happened. Until it did, he briefly tried the usual occupations open to retired generals-memberships on boards of directors, consulting on military and foreign policy matters, senior mentoring, teaching college courses, lecturing at military schools, speechmaking. in the United States Marine Corps, Tony Zinni found it hard to adjust to a different life. He knew he had to move on to another phase, yet months pa.s.sed before the new phase happened. Until it did, he briefly tried the usual occupations open to retired generals-memberships on boards of directors, consulting on military and foreign policy matters, senior mentoring, teaching college courses, lecturing at military schools, speechmaking.

These early pursuits brought in a comfortable income; all of them were interesting, and a couple were personally rewarding. Despite these satisfactions, however, he knew something was missing. He was no longer taking part in the significant events he watched unfolding every day on the news. He had moved from the heart of the action to virtual irrelevance.

The media networks offered positions as an a.n.a.lyst and commentator; their offers were tempting-a chance to keep a hand in. But he rejected them, preferring not to be a military Monday-morning quarterback. He didn't want to be yet another retired general blathering on the screen about the state of the universe.

"I really believe that once you retire, you retire," he comments. "The way is forward, not back. So for me, I really felt that the worst thing I could do is try to semi hang on. I wanted to cut the cords and get on with a different life. Just put the old life aside."

The day he packed up his uniforms for good-a ch.o.r.e he had put off for months-was one of the bleakest of his life. The uniforms went into his attic; his sword went to his Marine officer son during his retirement ceremony. Yet this was a liberating pain; it was the opening he needed to finally accept that he had to move on.

About this time, wise counsel came from an old and respected Marine Corps friend, Paul VanRiper, a retired lieutenant general who had settled near Zinni's new home in Virginia: "The best way to manage your time is to divide your life into thirds," he told Zinni. "One-third has to pay your mortgage, put food on the table, and cover whatever else you need to keep your household and family going. You're not that old"-Zinni retired in his late fifties-"so look at doing work that you're okay with, and brings home a decent paycheck.

"The second third comes from doing work you love, where the pay isn't all that important. You might get some compensation; but that's not the point. Whether these things bring in good money or not, this part of your life is about doing things you enjoy doing, things that excite you, inspire you. You can't wait to do more.

"The final third is about whatever you want to put back. It's work you do pro bono, because it's the right thing to do; you have an obligation to do it. You feel required to give the service to your country, or to inst.i.tutions-like the Marine Corps-that you have a close affection for."

And that is exactly what Zinni tried to do.

After trying those various "normal" occupations open to retired generals, he moved on to more satisfying ways to pay the bills. He took care of the first third primarily by carefully choosing positions in businesses that had ethics, practices, and leadership of the highest caliber.

For the second third, he began teaching at William and Mary College. The pay wasn't great, but he loved the wonderful faculty, loved being around the students, loved teaching, and loved pa.s.sing on his experience to another impressive generation.

Early in 2001, he was contacted by Professor Steven Spiegel, the director of the Inst.i.tute on Global Conflict and Cooperation (IGCC) at the University of California San Diego. The IGCC ran a series of workshops, sponsored by the Defense Department, that brought together prominent people from the Middle East to discuss arms control and security. Spiegel asked Zinni to join this effort as a consultant; and of course Zinni accepted. It was an opportunity to reconnect with the peacemaking and conflict resolution process that had grown into a significant part of his life during the second half of his Marine Corps service. A dream began to emerge.

At the end of July, he took part in the first of what would become several IGCC workshops. Held in Garmisch, Germany, it brought together an impressive group of serving and retired government officials and academics from Middle Eastern countries to discuss the peace process. Though, of course, Zinni had followed these issues when he was CINC at CENTCOM, and discussed them at length with regional leaders, he found himself gaining significant new insights.

And then for the third third-the "putting back" into the people and the inst.i.tutions that were important to him-Zinni made sure he gave talks and cla.s.ses at the Marine Corps University at Quantico, and at local high schools whenever the opportunity arose.

The thirds plan allowed Zinni to put some structure into the life of a retired general, but it did not yet solve the problem of filling what was still missing-some way to take positive part in significant events out in the world . . . without b.u.t.ting in. He was ready if he was needed and called.

The call came. And another.

The first, in the summer of 2001, was from his old friend and boss, and now Deputy Secretary of State, Richard Armitage: "Would you be interested in taking on a peace mission in Indonesia?"

This was followed a few weeks later by a second call from another State Department official: "Would you be interested in taking on a peace mission in the Middle East?"

THE WISE MEN.

In Indonesia, a b.l.o.o.d.y dispute had been under way for twenty-five years between the national government and an independence movement in the oil-rich province of Aceh on the northern tip of Sumatra. The call from Armitage was an invitation to take part in a mission under the guidance of the Henri Dunant Centre for Humanitarian Dialogue (HDC) in Geneva, Switzerland.

The HDC realized a dream of Henri Dunant, the founder of the Red Cross, to establish a humanitarian center devoted to conflict resolution and mediation. It gave special attention to internal conflicts-problems within and not between nations. The latter are normally best handled by international organizations such as the UN or regional collectives of nations, but sovereign states get nervous when international bodies meddle in what they take to be internal affairs-as in the case of rebellions or separatist movements. Such conflicts are probably best resolved by private organizations, which have no agenda and no ulterior interests.

Though Zinni was unfamiliar with Indonesia and its mult.i.tude of troubles, and had never heard of Aceh or the HDC, he was eager to take on the mission. This was interesting. It could add a significant new angle of vision to what he already knew about peacemaking and conflict resolution.

Tony Zinni:

I learned long ago that finding new angles in peacemaking really matters, because-paradoxically-each peacemaking situation is unique. No matter how much experience you have, each conflict brings its own unique requirements. You have to develop a process distinctive to it. Sure, you can maybe call on or modify previous experiences, but there are no models, formulas, or formats that will necessarily help you reach your goals.

A lot of people think you can know exactly how to go about the process and become predictive. I learned you can't. You can't take some model off the shelf and hammer it to fit. It doesn't work that way. What happens is this: Gaining more experiences builds up your experience base and your understanding of the possibilities, and that shows you how to combine, mix-match, develop, and modify from past experiences to fit the unique situation you're in. Experience doesn't give you any big answers. It shows you how to be creative.

HE TALKED over the mission at a meeting with Armitage and Karen Brooks, a member of the National Security Council. There he learned that the State Department and the NSC had come up with an innovative idea to create a new element in negotiations: a group of Wise Men-people of significant international stature, senior diplomats and military men-who would stand above the negotiating process and advise all sides. over the mission at a meeting with Armitage and Karen Brooks, a member of the National Security Council. There he learned that the State Department and the NSC had come up with an innovative idea to create a new element in negotiations: a group of Wise Men-people of significant international stature, senior diplomats and military men-who would stand above the negotiating process and advise all sides.

In tough negotiations, mediators always get dragged into the process. They become viewed as biased by one or both sides, or sometimes become too deeply involved in contentious issues to "step above" the heated exchanges. No matter how hard mediators try to maintain and protect their neutrality and objectivity, both sides transfer fears and hopes onto them, attack them, and blame them. It always happens.

The function of the Wise Men was not to change the process but to back it up. If the mediators were getting hit by stones from all sides, they lived with it, rolled up their sleeves, waded into the mud, and did the dirty work. The Wise Men stood above it all, there to be called on by both sides or by the mediators for advice, recommendations, consultation, or intervention.

The HDC jumped at the idea.

At that point, they had chosen three Wise Men for the Indonesia mission-Surin Pitsuwan, a retired Thai Foreign Minister; Budamir Loncur, a retired Yugoslav Foreign Minister; and Lord Eric Avebury, a Member of the British House of Lords. They now wanted a fourth, an American with military stature-someone with peacekeeping experience, who could handle issues such as how to monitor mechanisms and observers on the ground, and who could talk to the Indonesian military-who everyone thought would be the toughest group to bring into the peace process. Zinni was the obvious choice.

"This is great!" Zinni told Armitage and Brooks. "It's just the kind of thing I want to do." He agreed to take on the mission with State Department support, but only as an unpaid private citizen working with the HDC, thus ensuring his independence.

That set the machinery moving.

State Department briefs followed, detailing the history of the struggle, current intelligence about what was happening on the ground, the state of the negotiations, the U.S. position on the issues, and background on the HDC.

Zinni followed up on that by reading everything he could find on Aceh online and from local bookstores and libraries. He was surprised at the amount of information that was out there: Indonesia is unique among nations. For one thing, it's big. big. It spreads across thousands of islands, some of them among the largest in the world, that cover thousands of miles from east to west and many time zones. It's extremely diverse in geography, population, and ethnic ident.i.ty. In religion it's predominantly Muslim (usually of a moderate kind), but there are also many Buddhists. All of these factors would make the country very difficult to govern; but add to that corruption, dictatorships, all kinds of divisive political issues, and a blanketing atmosphere of turmoil; and further add to that internal struggles with provinces in distant parts of the country-like East Timor (now independent), Papua New Guinea, and Aceh-that want to break away and gain independence; and you have a nation that's never far from catastrophic fission. It spreads across thousands of islands, some of them among the largest in the world, that cover thousands of miles from east to west and many time zones. It's extremely diverse in geography, population, and ethnic ident.i.ty. In religion it's predominantly Muslim (usually of a moderate kind), but there are also many Buddhists. All of these factors would make the country very difficult to govern; but add to that corruption, dictatorships, all kinds of divisive political issues, and a blanketing atmosphere of turmoil; and further add to that internal struggles with provinces in distant parts of the country-like East Timor (now independent), Papua New Guinea, and Aceh-that want to break away and gain independence; and you have a nation that's never far from catastrophic fission.

In spite of the confusion and diversity, the political scene in Indonesia is surprisingly straightforward-more or less evenly divided between hard-liners and moderates. On the issue of separatism, the moderates wished to end the struggles through peaceful negotiations that would eventually allow areas such as Aceh some freedom and autonomy from the central government. The hard-liners-including much of the military83-would have none of that, and preferred an increased crackdown to end the conflict once and for all. Already, the military and police operations in response to the uprising had turned the beautiful and resource-rich province into a battle zone.

The fight for independence had been led by the Free Aceh Movement, or GAM, directed by its government in exile in Stockholm, Sweden. Now an agreement had been reached to conduct negotiations between them and the government, with the HDC as mediator.

The United States had taken a carefully moderate position in these negotiations. That is, it supported a resolution of the problem within the context of the state of Indonesia. In the U.S. view, the independence of Aceh had to be off the table. The U.S. was not going to support a breaking up of that nation. By the same token, they sent a strong message to the Jakarta government: "You've got to do better for the people of Aceh. They are in a special situation and deserve special treatment. You have to find a reasonable way to give them that."

There were several compelling reasons for the American position; but the most compelling was practical: Indonesia is fragile. The U.S. didn't want to see it fragment, and create a constellation of potentially nonviable states. G.o.d knows what could happen if these failed or incapable states started harboring extremist movements.

There was a second, no less practical reason: Independence movements provoked governments to take a hard-line approach, and this almost inevitably ended in bloodshed. If ways could be found to moderate demands for independence, while delivering many of the material benefits that independence promises, and if all this was coupled with moderation of the central government's hard-line approach, then everybody got a win. But getting there involved a lot of ifs.

Zinni was not involved in developing the U.S. government position in the Aceh-Indonesia conflict, nor was it his place to support or oppose it during the negotiations. His place, as he saw it, was to find a road to peace.

When I became involved with the HDC, I was clear up front to all parties in the negotiations: I'm not making judgments here, I'm not here to judge. I'm here to help you resolve this fight peacefully. My government's position is clear; that's what it is. But I am not part of the government in this respect; and it's not my job to come in and sell my government's line. I don't have a line. I don't have a position.

I learned a long time ago that a negotiator has to be nonjudgmental.

Later that year, when I became involved in trying to mediate the Israeli-Palestinian dispute, I was immediately hit from both sides to take a position. There was no way I could do that.

Who's more right? The Israelis? The Palestinians? Who has greater justice on their side? Who has suffered more? How can anyone measure these things? And even if you could, how could you shape these measurements into the perfect balance that will result in a peaceful settlement?

As a mediator, you reach peace by finding a position that both sides can agree to and practice on the ground. We'll never get there by trying to determine which side is more righteous or "deserving" than the other. It's important to speak out about unacceptable actions, but your task is to help the parties find a lasting solution that all can live with over time.

So when Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon asked me, "How do you weigh this issue? Where do you put the weight in terms of this situation?," I said: "I don't do that."

Sharon did not reply. He didn't like the answer.

"I don't make judgments," I continued. "There are things that are unacceptable to me, such as terrorist acts where innocents are killed. I reject that. I condemn those things. But in the process of negotiation, the mediator can't allow himself to be put in a position where he starts to form or make judgments. I am here to facilitate both sides finding a workable solution to this situation. One that they and their children can live with."

Obviously, judgments will inevitably creep into your thinking; but you have to resist them. You have to be really hard on yourself and reject taking any positions that come out of these judgments.

And even when you don't form judgments, you're still going to get hit by both sides.

IN MID-JULY, Zinni flew to Geneva for his introduction to the HDC staff and his first meeting with the Indonesian government and GAM officials. Zinni flew to Geneva for his introduction to the HDC staff and his first meeting with the Indonesian government and GAM officials.

The Centre was located at a mansion on the lake, Henri Dunant's former home, and was a truly international organization, receiving support from private donations from several countries. Its small staff of about twenty (most of them young) came from all over the world. The director and chief negotiator, Martin Griffiths, was a former foreign service officer in the United Kingdom who had worked with the UN in Africa and elsewhere. Griffiths had a wealth of experience in peacekeeping and diplomatic missions. His deputy, a Canadian named Andrew Marshall, had long experience working with NGOs and the UN in third world nations. Both of these men impressed Zinni.

The HDC had brought in other experts in conflict resolution and negotiation as well, but they had also come up with a really innovative idea: They brought in "civil society" to "speak for the people."

At this point, the government said, "Wait a minute, we we speak for the people." speak for the people."

And the GAM said, "No way. We We speak for the people." speak for the people."

But the HDC said, "Why not let the people speak for themselves?"

And so they communicated with village leaders, civic leaders, and other prominent people in the community to get their views. What the "people" had to say often shocked everybody. They had a plague-on-both-your-houses att.i.tude: The sentiment often was that neither the government nor GAM had done right by them. This strong sentiment eventually helped bring about an agreement.

When Zinni arrived in Geneva, he learned that the negotiations had proved difficult so far, with both sides feeling that they were expected to give up more than they were getting.

For the government representatives-moderates-it was an extremely high-risk situation. If the special autonomy status they were offering Aceh worked, fine. But if it didn't, or if the negotiations failed, or if the special autonomy offer set a precedent and other provinces demanded a similar status, they knew they had dug themselves into a deep and escape-proof hole.

For the GAM, who had been fighting for independence for decades, special autonomy presented them with a serious crisis. Accepting it meant abandoning their struggle for full independence.

Divided views on these issues within the government and GAM further complicated the negotiations.

Despite the problems and obstacles, Zinni came away from this first meeting greatly encouraged. "This thing can work," he said to himself. "Both sides are sincerely committed to finding a peaceful solution, and the first-rate HDC staff is dogged in its determination to bring that about."