It was late summer in 1999, and I was in Israel. President Bush was still Governor Bush, and I was traveling as his foreign policy adviser. In a meeting with Ariel Sharon, I met one of his advisers—a confident and impressive woman, roughly my age (well, actually a little younger), named Tzipi Livni.
Tzipi has not just been my colleague; she has become my friend. We have sat together for hours debating ideas—freely, openly, even combatively at times. I have learned of her deep pride in her children. We share an abiding respect for our now deceased fathers—mine, a successful son of the old segregated American South; hers, a defender of the Jewish homeland in its first days of independence.