Among the many people I came to know during my years dealing with Washington, Katharine Graham stands out as one of the most remarkable.
I was introduced to her by Elliot Richardson, who was a mentor to me and one of the most distinguished figures in American public life. He had held four different Cabinet positions – still a record – and was an iconic figure in Washington. Through him, I came to know Graham, the legendary publisher of The Washington Post.
At the time, I was associated with the Government of President Ranasinghe Premadasa as Special Representative of the Government of Sri Lanka. My responsibilities included coordinating aspects of Sri Lanka’s relationship with the United States, as well as troubleshooting and coordinating aspects of external economic cooperation, including engagement with the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund.
Sri Lanka was then going through a particularly difficult period. The country faced internal conflict and a serious balance-of-payments crisis, and securing external economic assistance was an important part of our work in Washington.
Graham occupied a unique position in that Washington. She was not merely the publisher of a major newspaper. Under her leadership, The Washington Post became one of the world’s most influential newspapers. She stood behind its journalists during some of the most consequential episodes in American journalism, including the publication of the Pentagon Papers and the investigation of Watergate.
Yet the Graham I came to know was not simply the formidable publisher of one of America’s great newspapers. She was remarkably accessible.
Whenever I approached her, she was willing to listen. She would offer advice, ask questions, and make herself available. In Washington, where access to people in positions of influence can often be difficult, this was unusual.
A remarkably accessible publisher
There was one occasion that particularly demonstrated this quality.
During the 1992 US Presidential Election campaign, then candidate Bill Clinton, speaking at the Democratic National Convention in New York, referred to the American economy as being somewhere between Germany and Sri Lanka.
The comparison was intended to illustrate the economic difficulties facing the United States, but I felt it was unfair to Sri Lanka. President George H.W. Bush also took umbrage at the reference and referred to it in his own acceptance speech in Houston.
I was unhappy about the way Sri Lanka had been used in the political debate and went to see Graham to express my concern.
She listened sympathetically and then acted. She gave me an opportunity to put my case before the readers of The Washington Post. My resulting opinion piece, ‘Miracle in Sri Lanka,’ challenged the comparison and sought to put Sri Lanka and its economy in their proper perspective.
The article had a wider impact than I had expected. A senior figure in the Clinton campaign subsequently reached out to me and expressed regret over the reference to Sri Lanka.
It also attracted attention on Capitol Hill. Charlie Wilson, the powerful Democratic Congressman from Texas and a member of the Foreign Operations Subcommittee of the House Appropriations Committee, placed a supportive introduction in the Congressional Record and had my article entered alongside it. He was the first to do so.
Subsequently, several other Democratic and Republican senators and congressmen followed. Among them was Senator Dan Coats, a conservative Republican from Indiana, who also had the article read into the Congressional Record.
For me, this was a remarkable episode. What had begun as my personal unhappiness at the casual use of Sri Lanka as a symbol of economic decline had become a bipartisan response.
It also demonstrated something about Graham. She was willing to give a relatively small country an opportunity to be heard.
Sri Lanka was not a major power in Washington. We did not have the geopolitical weight of the larger countries that naturally attracted the attention of American policymakers. Yet Graham never made me feel that our concerns were unimportant.
That was one of the qualities I valued most about her.
I recall another small example of her accessibility. On one occasion, one of Sri Lanka’s most respected journalists was visiting Washington. A mutual friend suggested that it would be a good idea for him to meet Graham. I approached her with the suggestion, and she readily agreed. We were able to meet with her.
A wealth of experience
Graham had an extraordinary network and understood Washington intimately. Her influence, however, did not prevent her from taking an interest in people and their perspectives.
That was also reflected in the advice she gave me. I found her counsel useful not because she necessarily had a ready-made answer to every problem, but because she understood people and institutions – how Washington worked, who mattered, and how different parts of the political and media establishments interacted.
For someone representing Sri Lanka at a difficult time, such advice was valuable.
Graham’s own career had been extraordinary. After the death of her husband, Philip Graham, she assumed responsibility for The Washington Post at a time when American business and journalism remained overwhelmingly male-dominated. She went on to become one of the most powerful women in American public life and the first woman to head a Fortune 500 company.
Her leadership of The Washington Post during the Pentagon Papers controversy and Watergate helped establish the newspaper’s modern reputation. Her story was later brought to a wider audience in the film ‘The Post,’ with Meryl Streep portraying Graham during the Pentagon Papers episode.
A lesson in diplomacy
However, I remember a more personal side of her. She was a powerful person who did not need to make others feel her power. She listened. She was accessible. And when she believed someone had a legitimate point to make, she was prepared to provide an opportunity for that point to be heard.
Looking back, that is one of the enduring lessons of diplomacy. Formal diplomatic relations are essential, as are governments, embassies, and international institutions. But alongside them is another, less visible network of personal relationships.
Individuals can open doors, offer advice, provide perspective, or simply listen at moments when being heard matters. Graham was one of those people.
Her connection to Sri Lanka was never based on geopolitical calculations or any expectation of political gain. She simply responded to someone who came to her with a concern and gave him an opportunity to make his case.
I have met many powerful people in the course of my public life. Some are remembered for the positions they held, others for the decisions they made. Graham is remembered by me for something simpler.
Despite occupying one of the most influential positions in Washington, she was accessible. She was generous with her time and advice. And when Sri Lanka found itself casually drawn into an American political argument, she was willing to listen and help give us a voice.
That is how I remember Katharine Graham.
(The writer is the Founder of the Pathfinder Foundation)
(The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the writer and do not necessarily reflect the official position of this publication)