concentrations of suspected bad guys—or what some in the Pentagon called MAMs (for “military-aged males”). Most of the controversy revolved around whether drone strikes on MAMs were really eliminating terrorists or killing civilians and producing anti-American fervor. Pakistani intelligence was able to exploit the controversy—when drones started targeting Taliban fighters in 2011, the ISI started fueling anti-drone opposition in a bid to force the United States to agree to a more limited target list. At this time Pakistan asked repeatedly for joint ownership of the drone program, which meant we would work together on gathering intelligence (previously intelligence was gathered by the CIA and then selectively shared with Pakistan) and operating the drones. They also asked if we would sell them drones; Pakistanis would not object if drones killing terrorists had Pakistani markings on them. They also suggested we let them hit the targets given to drones with their F-16 fighter jets.The CIA’s answer every time was no. We will not sell Pakistan drones, jointly operate them, or let them use their planes to hit the same targets. The program would remain “American.” And as such it would invite anti-Americanism. We knew from early 2009 that the drone problem meant the intelligence relationship with Pakistan was headed for trouble. During my early days working with Holbrooke, when we were crafting a new Pakistan policy, one of Holbrooke’s deputies asked him, “If we are going to seriously engage shouldn’t we make some changes to the drone policy, perhaps back off a bit?” Holbrooke replied, “Don’t even go there. Nothing is going to change.” We had to build ties despite the drag the drone program had on building normal relations with Pakistan. Holbrooke believed all along that by showing Pakistan a road map to a deeper relationship with America you could distract attention from the intelligence relationship. The key to winning over Pakistan was simply giving Pakistan more (much more) aid for longer (far longer), in order to change the dynamic of the relationship through economic engagement. If Pakistani leaders had a good story to tell their people, the CIA’s job would become easier, and in time Pakistan would become vested in a different relationship with America. Average Pakistanis had to see a benefit in having a relationship with America, and in 2009 they didn’t. It is easy to be angry at America if you think you don’t get anything from the relationship other than drone strikes and retaliations for them in the form of devastating suicide bombings. To counter that narrative, Holbrooke started by calling together the newly created Friends of Democratic Pakistan in an international gathering in Tokyo to help Pakistan rebuild its economy. He got $5 billion in pledges to assist Pakistan. “That is a respectable IPO,” Holbrooke would brag, hoping that the opening would garner even more by way of capital investment in Pakistan’s future. Holbrooke thought that we should give Pakistan much more aid, and not just the military kind. We should do our best to be seen giving it, and to make sure that it improved the lives of everyday Pakistanis in meaningful ways. Holbrooke had gleaned these insights from talking to Pakistanis high and low. Pakistan’s finance minister (and later foreign minister) Hina Rabbani Khar gave Holbrooke a tutorial on U.S. aid toPakistan. They met on the veranda of the magnificent Chiragan Palace Hotel in Istanbul, a former home to Ottoman sultans that was the venue for an international conference on Pakistan. Khar said to Holbrooke: Richard, let me tell you a few things about your aid: First, no one in Pakistan sees what you spend it on. People can point to the Chinese bridge; they cannot identify a single thing your aid has done. Second, most of the money never gets to Pakistan; it is spent in Washington. Of every dollar you say you give to Pakistan, maybe ten cents makes it