Hume Horan (1934-2004)

By John M. Mulholland

“But imagine, if you can, a more normal, middle-class Lawrence [of Arabia], an American of the Cold War era rather than a Briton of Empire days; someone with both the intellectual and operational brilliance, who suffered from no identity crises, whether national or sexual, someone with a suburban house and a family, too self-reflecting to take sides; a thoroughly modern, post-industrial Lawrence, in other words.”

So is Hume Horan so colorfully described by Robert Kaplan in his book, The Arabists.

My introduction to this remarkable man was in Jeddah in 1973. Everyone whom I knew at the U.S. Embassy was 50 or older, gray haired, and inevitably well dressed. I had been in the Kingdom for five years already, and had made a strong effort to learn Arabic. In fact, I spoke it better than any Westerner I had met. Imagine my amazement, then, when I walked into a friend’s beach cabin north of Jeddah to find a young American in swimming trunks, with a chiseled body, holding court in the finest Arabic I had heard come out of anyone’s mouth, Arabs included.

This was Hume Horan, unknown to me, but already a legend in the State Department for his intellectual brilliance and his command of languages—Spanish, French, German, and above all, Arabic. It would take me years, however, to discover what a truly remarkable man he was for qualities other than linguistics and statecraft. Nor could I have imagined at that moment that Hume would become my good friend for the next 30 years, until his death this past July 22 of prostate cancer.

Hume’s early life is worth mentioning, for undoubtedly it contributed to his remarkable personality and career. He was born Seyed Mohammed Entezam, son of Abdullah Entezam, a noted Iranian diplomat. His mother was Mary Hume, granddaughter of a mayor of Georgetown and great-granddaughter of William Seward, Lincoln’s noted secretary of state. Hume’s parents divorced while he was still young, and his mother later married Harold Horan, a journalist and businessman, who took his family to Argentina during WW II. Hume went to prep school in the States, and decided on Middle East Studies at Harvard for his academic destiny. He had the good fortune to study under Hamilton Gibb, until today an icon of Arabic studies.

From Harvard it was to the State Department, where followed quickly assignments to Baghdad, Baida (in eastern Libya), Amman (where he earned great recognition for his coolness under fire), and Jeddah. After five years in Jeddah (earning more kudos for his brilliance during the oil embargo), it was back to Washington, then as ambassador to Equatorial Guinea and Cameroon, and then back to the Arab world as ambassador to the Sudan. Two events stand out during Ambassador Horan’s sojourn in the Sudan: his orchestration of the exodus of the Ethiopian Jews through the Sudan to Israel, and his (sadly unsuccessful) attempt to save the life of the Sudanese Islamic teacher and reformer Mahmud Mohammed Taha. From Khartoum it was back to Washington for a sojourn as visiting professor to Georgetown University, then back to Saudi Arabia, now as U.S. ambassador.

Horan was widely considered to be the finest ambassador to represent the United States in the Kingdom.

Hume and I had stayed in touch during his wanderings. When he returned to Riyadh I was president of the American Businessmen of Jeddah, which afforded me a more official channel of interaction. His term as ambassador was short-circuited, however, when King Fahd told Washington to take its ambassador back. I never could get Hume to confirm the details to me, but after checking and cross-checking I am fairly certain that Secretary of State George Shultz ordered his ambassador to tell King Fahd to send his missiles back to China. Horan told Shultz the consequences of delivering such a message, and was instructed to deliver it anyway. The result was inevitable.

It was thus even more of a pleasure to hear from several high-placed Saudi friends that Hume was widely considered among their colleagues to be the finest ambassador to represent the United States in the Kingdom.

Ambassador Horan finished out his career with another teaching stint at Georgetown (where I was studying Arabic at the time) and serving as ambassador to the Cote d’Ivoire.

But Hume Horan, the man, was far more than the sum of his career. His intellectual interests were towering, his love for life never slackened, his humility and humanity, touching. (When returning to Jeddah he would make a point to visit all his old local staff, asking each one about the events in their lives with genuine interest. I knew these people, too. You cannot imagine how such thoughtfulness was appreciated.) Hume was an author. He was a passionate bike rider (I know—we used to go on 50-mile rides together in Maryland). In fact, he once was run over pedaling to the State Department, but was soon back on the bike with an artificial hip. He took up sky diving when he was over 50. The list goes on. If there were ever a “Renaissance Man,” Horan was it.

Sane Advice

After 9/11 Hume was often on network TV for views on the Middle East. Regarding Israel’s occupation of Palestine he stated that the U.S. had to step in and “impose” peace. No more “confidence-building measures,” no more waiting for both sides “to get ready for peace.” He knew that only the United States had the power and influence to impose such a peace. I guess his advice was too obvious and too sane for anyone to accept.

One would have been wrong, however, to presume he was “pro-Arab.” He was horrified to see the restriction of civil liberties and intellectual repression that so characterizes the Arab Middle East today. He did not advertise his views, but when asked, didn’t mince words.

The last chapter of his life started several years ago when he divorced his wife, Nancy, and married Lori Shoemaker, a member of the State Department. When Lori studied Japanese in preparation for an assignment in Japan, Hume studied it along with her. Only Hume could write me a comparison of Arabic, Chinese and Japanese—three of the world’s most difficult languages. His studies were interrupted by an assignment as L. Paul (“Jerry”) Bremer’s ambassador to Iraq’s Shi’i community. Already suffering from cancer and with less than a year to live, he fearlessly traveled the country and forged links that, I am confident, no one else in our State Department could have. Hume was against the war on Iraq, but once the die was cast, he wanted to make every effort, personally, to assure its success.

Hume Horan was, in many ways, my mentor and champion. I, and many others, will sorely miss him. Worse, the world lost a hero who could honestly say, “I left the world a better place than I found it.”

John M. Mulholland is director of Latin American & Canadian Operations at Ameron Performance Coatings & Finishes Group in Alpharetta, GA.