Since the job was created, no defence secretary has dominated the American stage as much as Donald Rumsfeld. He became famous during the war in Afghanistan against the Taleban and al-Qaeda for his pithy and sometimes ruthless comments during press conferences.
But is he driving policy? Dominating the stage is not the same as determining the ends and goals. Others might be burrowing under the stage, allowing the grand performance to divert attention from the much bigger game: establishing where US foreign policy is going and who is benefiting.
Just over 27 years ago, Mr Rumsfeld entered the Pentagon for the first time as defence secretary. I was appointed to his office. We all knew him to be a canny, clever, self-confident fellow. He had got the job through his own role in a palace coup, under which Henry Kissinger's powerful role was diminished in president Gerald Ford's administration. Mr Rumsfeld had been White House chief of staff and masterminded the cabinet shuffle.
The first thing he did was initiate a 'wiring diagram' inquiry (a plan to reorganise personnel). Today, his ability to rearrange the responsibilities of the armed forces is often touted as a sign of his supposed supremacy. But in his earlier incarnation at the Pentagon, he knew precious little of defence issues.
By ordering the review, he put everyone on their guard, buying time to study the issues and policies within the building. It was a masterstroke. Within months, he was bringing congressmen in by the droves to convince them of the seriousness of the Soviet threat-and the concurrent need for enhanced Pentagon budgets.
He adopted the policies of the hardline Committee on the Present Danger, which was, at the time, still in the making. As a founding member, I could only applaud as Mr Rumsfeld acted persuasively to carry out the recommendations that would soon be made public. Although he had a record as a hardliner, he really chose the 'present danger' agenda because it was available and convenient.