History's Verdict

Alan Brinkley
Professor of History, Columbia University

Arthur Schlesinger had many worlds and many lives. He was an historian, a critic, a political activist, a public official, an international celebrity, a husband, a father and a son. I will remember him, of course, for his extraordinary contributions to historical scholarship and public discourse. But I remember him most of all as a warm and generous friend. He was a man of my father's generation. [Brinkley's father was the celebrated television journalist, David Brinkley]. When we met for lunch over the years, I ordered a salad and a Diet Coke, and he would typically order a steak and a martini. But I never thought of him in generational terms, because he was always so engaged with the issues of our shared time, always so interesting a partner in conversation, always willing to take my ideas seriously at the same time that he defended and defined his own. A few years ago, when I became provost at Columbia, he asked me over lunch—with some incredulity—why I would give up writing and scholarship to become an administrator. To Arthur, writing was a constant and indispensable friend, a deeply rooted part of his identity, and he could not himself imagine taking on responsibilities that would conflict with his work. I pointed out that he had left academia for a time to become a presidential adviser, and he conceded the point. But I know that he saw his role in government as part of a lifelong effort to understand politics and power; that he believed being himself a figure in history was part of what enabled him to understand history.

As much as Arthur loved writing, he also loved being out in the world. He had hundreds of friends from many areas of life and many places, and he was an inveterate attender of parties and dinners—always arriving wearing his trademark bow tie with his beautiful wife, Alexandra, on his arm and towering over him. He was an icon of society just as he was an icon of historical writing. But he was not simply an ornament at these events. He was unfailingly interested in what other people were thinking, and unfailingly interesting in return—never condescending or aloof, rarely frivolous, always engaging. It was fitting, perhaps, that he spent his last night in a restaurant surrounded by people—most of whom, I'm sure, felt lucky to be there with him. I know I always did.

Bill and Hillary Clinton
Former president of the United States and his wife, a current Democratic senator from New York

America has lost one of its greatest historians and most devoted citizens. In lucid, elegant prose, Arthur Schlesinger helped us to understand our past and urged us to use that understanding to build a brighter, fairer future. He looked beyond the fleeting headlines to the larger trends and cycles of history. In an age in which the ephemeral so often takes center stage, he kept his eyes on the prize, the constant search for "the more perfect Union" of our founders' dreams.

We will sorely miss that small man with his enormous intellect, generous spirit, and passionate belief in the promise of America. We loved his books and even more, cherished his friendship and counsel. Arthur Schlesinger was a national treasure.