The Fang Lizhi episode was a preview of troubles to come in China. A few months later, Chinese democratic activists decided to demonstrate for their freedom in Tiananmen Square. The protests drew worldwide attention in part because they coincided with Mikhail Gorbachev’s visit to China. The Chinese government declared martial law and deployed tanks to crush the demonstrat

ions. The world watched the drama unfold in real time. A photo of a young Chinese man standing alone in front of four oncoming tanks became the iconic image of the impending loss of innocent life.

The Tiananmen incident put the President in a delicate position. On one hand, he supported democratic reform in China. On the other hand, he saw the strategic importance of maintaining a close diplomatic and economic relationship with an emerging power. He believed, as I do, that economic progress in China will lead to political progress. And he knew from his tenure in Beijing that the Chinese government would be highly sensitive to any American action that it considered meddling in its internal affairs.

Dad struck a careful balance in response to Tiananmen. He denounced the Chinese government’s use of force and imposed limited economic sanctions. At the same time, he rejected congressional calls to revoke the trade preferences that had opened up new flows of commerce and capital. The Chinese refused to respond to official diplomatic overtures. So Dad drew on his personal connections and wrote a private letter to Deng Xiaoping. “I write in a spirit of genuine friendship,” he began, “this letter coming as I’m sure you know from one who believes with a passion that good relations between the United States and China are in the fundamental interests of both countries.” He went on to propose sending a personal emissary to Beijing to discuss ways to lower tensions.

Within twenty-four hours, Deng had accepted Dad’s offer to send an emissary. National Security Adviser Brent Scowcroft and Deputy Secretary of State Lawrence Eagleburger were dispatched to Beijing, where they met with senior Chinese officials. Dad followed up with another letter to Deng, whom he addressed as his “dear friend.” He wrote, “We can both do more for world peace and for the welfare of our own people if we can get our relationship back on track…. If there is to be a period of darkness, so be it; but let us try to light some candles.”

No one knew about Scowcroft and Eagleburger’s trip until they returned to China several months later and were filmed clinking glasses with Chinese leaders. The image hurt Dad in some circles, and Bill Clinton criticized him for being soft on China during the 1992 campaign. In the long run, however, George Bush’s handling of the crisis proved deft. By guiding America’s relationship with China through a very challenging period, he helped pave the way for two decades of economic growth that has benefited both our nations. China’s growth has lifted hundreds of millions of people out of poverty in China and created an enormous new market for American goods and services, while also increasing the prospect of political reform in China. At the 2008 Beijing Olympics, President Hu Jintao hosted a lunch in honor of a man who had been highly respected in China for more than thirty years, George H.W. Bush.

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RELATIONS WITH CHINA posed one test during the first year of Dad’s presidency. The Soviet Union posed another. From the beginning, Dad was hopeful about his counterpart in Moscow, Mikhail Gorbachev. As Vice President in 1985, Dad had been the first senior American official to meet the new Soviet leader. Dad admired Gorbachev’s fresh approach, openness to the West, and commitment to reform the Soviet system—what Gorbachev called perestroika. When he took office, Dad had his national security team conduct a thorough review of American policy toward the Soviet Union. In a speech outlining his strategy in May 1989, he announced that the United States would move beyond “containme

nt”—beyond the negative implications of mutually assured destruction—and toward a more cooperative relationship with a changing Soviet Union.

Gorbachev’s commitment to change was tested by dramatic events in Eastern Europe. In Poland, the Solidarity movement, led by Lech Wałesa—and inspired by Pope John Paul II, the first-ever Polish pope—organized strikes in the shipyards of Gdansk. In Hungary, large protests honored a democratic leader, Imre Nagy, who had been martyred after Hungary’s brief revolution in 1956. In Czechoslov

akia, playwright Václav Havel organized artists and other citizens to reject communism in what would later be called the Velvet Revolution. And in East Germany, anticommunist groups held weekly prayer sessions in big-city cathedrals.

As the remarkable events of 1989 unfolded, the question was whether Gorbachev would violently suppress the freedom movements, as the Soviet Union had done in Hungary in 1956 and Prague in 1968—and as China had just done in Tiananmen Square. Dad recognized that his response to the revolutions could affect the Soviet reaction. In July 1989, he traveled to Hungary and Poland, where he spoke to massive crowds. He avoided any statements that might provoke the hard-liners in those countries or in the Soviet Union. And he immediately reached out to Gorbachev to reinforce his desire for a close relationship. “Dear Mr. Chairman,” he scribbled aboard Air Force One. “I am writing this letter to you on my way back from Europe to the United States. Let me get quickly to the point of this letter,” he continued. “I would like very much to sit down soon and talk to you.”

Gorbachev accepted Dad’s offer, and they scheduled a summit meeting in Malta for December 1989. In the meantime, the revolutions raced ahead. In November 1989, East Germany announced that it would open its border crossings to the West. Within hours, tens of thousands flocked to the Berlin Wall and began hammering it down. Dad faced enormous pressure to celebrate. Democrats in Congress urged him to go to Berlin. Journalists, eager for a dramatic story, demanded to know why he wasn’t showing more emotion. “Bushism is Reaganism minus the passion for freedom,” one writer complained. Dad refused to give in to the pressure. All his life, George Bush had been a humble man. He wasn’t trying to score points for himself; he only cared about the results. And he knew the best way to achieve results was to think about the situation from the other person’s perspective: Freedom had a better chance to succeed in Central and Eastern Europe if he did not provoke the Soviets to intervene in the budding revolutions.

“I’m not going to go dance on the wall,” he said.

He pressed ahead with his outreach to Gorbachev. In December 1989, the two leaders met for a historic summit in Malta. Dad spent the night before aboard the USS Belknap in the Mediterranean Sea. As he prepared for the biggest meeting of his presidency, Dad thought back to his days aboard the USS San Jacinto in World War II. “I love the Navy,” he wrote in his diary, “and I felt 31 years old walking around the decks.” He even went fishing off the fantail of the ship. (Alas, all he got was a nibble.)

The next day, Dad and Gorbachev met for four hours aboard a cruise ship, the Maxim Gorky. They covered a wide range of subjects and agreed to continue their efforts to improve relations. The United States offered an economic aid package to help Gorbachev with his crumbling economy. At the same time, Dad made clear that he hoped the Soviets would maintain their peaceful approach to the upheaval in Central and Eastern Europe.