The World As It Is: A Memoir of the Obama White House

by Ben Rhodes

A few days later, I got a call that Obama wanted to see me. I made the familiar walk down the hallway and up the stairs, a walk I’d made thousands of times, but this time I was filled with dread. I had a feeling this was about Benghazi. I walked into the Oval, where he was standing behind his desk. “I hear you’ve been a little upset about everything that’s going on,” he said, “this whole thing.” He gestured with his hand, not even saying the word “Benghazi.” “Yes,” I said. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a fraction of what you put up with on a daily basis. It’s just an out-of-body experience, watching yourself be convicted publicly of a crime you didn’t commit.” “Did you do anything wrong?” he asked. It was, I realized, the first time anyone had ever bothered to ask me that question. “No,” I said. “Then don’t worry about it,” he said. “All you have is your integrity. And you have as much integrity as anyone I know.”