Jesse Helms, former U.S. senator from North Carolina, died on July 4. As he was one who considered himself a superpatriot, I'm sure he would not have had it any other way.

When I think about his passing, several things come to mind. The first is rather personal. In 1997, President Bill Clinton nominated me to be U.S. ambassador to the United Republic of Tanzania. At the time, Jesse Helms was chairman of the U.S. Senate Foreign Relations Committee. It was this committee's responsibility to approve all ambassadorial appointments. Helms had a standing policy of holding up all Clinton's nominees. As a result of that policy, my confirmation was delayed.

As it turned out, I was confirmed by the U.S. Senate one month before the African embassy bombings in August 1998. If I had been confirmed earlier, more likely than not I would have been in Tanzania the day of the bombing. Had I been there, I might well not have survived. Given Helms' history of opposition to racial equality and civil rights, and my own career defending such, it is profoundly ironic that I might well owe my life to Helms.

A couple of other things that come to mind are less surreal. I was talking to a group of friends in South Africa about current events the day after Helms' death. It seems whenever I am outside the country, conversations like this eventually get around to a discussion of the arrogance of American foreign policy.

Helms personified this tradition of arrogance as chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. He prided himself on not having a passport. He often exclaimed he didn't need to go anywhere. If there was something happening outside the country important enough to merit his attention, someone would tell him. The attitude that the world's agenda revolves around America's interests and aspirations is precisely what we're trying to overcome in our increasing isolation around the world. As America stands on the eve of a national election, one can't but wonder whether with the passing of the man, we will put this era behind us as well.

Finally, as we prepare to go to the polls in November, for what might be a historic opportunity to elect this country's first African-American president, I am reminded of a similarly seminal moment in North Carolina some years ago. The year was 1990. Jesse Helms faced black candidate Harvey Gantt in the U.S. Senate race. Gantt had recently completed a very successful term as the mayor of Charlotte. Polls indicated he might well unseat the incumbent Helms. During a moment that was hope-filled and pregnant with possibilities, the politics eventually turned ugly.

When the polls showed him down, Helms did what far too many politicians have done over time when race is a subtext in an election. He played the race card. Helms ran his now infamous ad on affirmative action, which played to white fears and paranoia that whatever gains blacks might make come at their expense. It worked. The despicable eleventh-hour strategy of race-baiting resulted in Helms going back to the Senate.

It is by no means my intent to defame the dead; "you can hate the sin and not the sinner." I truly have sympathy for the Helms family and can only imagine their sense of loss. Having said that, against the backdrop of Helms' death and Obama's possible election, I hope the time for such politics has also come and gone.

> Charles Stith heads the African Presidential Center at Boston University.