Think twice then say nothing

iven the recent rise in the number of ambassadors-at-large and ambassadors not-at- large, it occurred to me to check out if that consummate American diplomat, Chas Freeman – now retired and running the only fair-minded think tank on the Middle East in this last resting place of all think tanks called Washington – had anything to say on the subject. I was not disappointed. Not long ago Freeman spoke to a group on diplomacy as an element of statecraft, given the fact that by now most Americans recognise that they are in a bit of trouble both at home and abroad. They have also begun to wonder if diplomacy is a better answer than the use of force, he noted.

Arthur Goldberg, a judge and diplomat, said that “diplomats approach every issue with an open... mouth.” An American diplomat who had served as ambassador to China once said, “a diplomat is someone who thinks twice – before saying nothing.” Freeman has worked out that the US is now spending about 28 per cent more on the military each year than it did during the Korean and Vietnam Wars, and over one-third more than at the height of the Reagan defence build-up against the Soviet Union. Some other statistics: the US is spending considerably more on military power than the rest of the world put together – three and a half times as much as the highest estimate for China, Russia, Cuba, Iran and North Korea combined; and at least 12,000 times as much as al Qaeda and all other terrorist groups with global reach. “It is not clear what enemies justify all this money,” Freeman observed.

Unlike other nations’ armed forces, he said, those of the United States are not geared for defence against foreign invasion or attacks on the homeland, but are configured for offensive deployment in support of foreign policy. They engage in deterrence, punishment and conquest of real and potential foreign enemies. That is why American soldiers, sailors, airmen and marines are in Korea, Afghanistan and Iraq, as well as in Bosnia and dozens of other places around the world that have neither the intent nor the capability to attack the United States. Freeman said that the wisdom in Washington has always been that if something is not working, you throw more money into it. Hence more and more is going into defence spending. The intellectual energy that such massive spending generates has revolutionised the American approach to foreign policy. Freeman recalled that it used to be thought that the purpose of war is to secure a more perfect peace. That has changed. The Americans, for example, are in Iraq to end the fighting and then to hang around until the Iraqis decide to make peace with each other. That might take a while, he added sardonically.

Such thinking, Freeman argued, has squeezed out serious consideration of diplomacy as an alternative to the use of force. He maintained, “Diplomacy is more than saying ‘nice doggie,’ till you can find a rock. Weapons are tools to change men’s minds but they are far from the only means of doing so. The weapons of diplomats are words and their power is their persuasiveness. Talk is cheaper than firepower and does less collateral damage, so it makes sense to try it before blazing away at the adversary. There is another reason to regard force as a last resort. It creates ruins that cannot easily be rebuilt and resentments that cannot easily be overcome. War is a form of demolition; its results are messy and its effects on those it touches are uncertain. In the age of globalisation, moreover, military invasion is as likely to incubate terrorists with global reach as it is to overthrow governments and seize terrain. It makes sense to exhaust diplomatic remedies first, not to follow a script of ‘Ready! Fire! Diplomacy!’ ”

Diplomacy is the art of pursuing the internationally possible. Its main drawback is that it involves the unpleasant task of interacting persuasively with usually disagreeable adversaries and sometimes tedious friends. Freeman quoted Al Capone, who once observed sagely that “you will get farther with a kind word and a gun than with a kind word alone.” Diplomacy is largely about adding the strength of others to one’s own, but its greater mission is to take the political offensive, identifying or creating opportunities and seizing them to advantage, which is what Truman did with the Marshall Plan and the formation of NATO, as Freeman pointed out. It is what Nixon did with his opening to China, he added.

May one suggest that the ambassador-manufacturing facility in Islamabad might perhaps like to remember Abba Eban’s words, “The bizarre notion that any citizen, especially if he is rich, is fit for the representation of his country abroad has taken some hard blows through empirical evidence. But it has not been discarded.” Freeman lamented that the US now staffs its foreign policy apparatus almost entirely with people with no diplomatic experience. He recalled a story he heard from Mac Toon, a former US ambassador to the Soviet Union. Toon once found himself aboard an aircraft carrier in the Mediterranean. The admiral commanding the battle group said to him, “What’s it like being an ambassador? I’ve always thought that after I retire I might want to try it.” Toon, a crusty gentleman, shot back, “That’s funny. I’ve always thought that, when I retire, I might try my hand at running a carrier battle group.” The admiral said, “That’s ridiculous. A naval command requires years of training and experience.” What the admiral did not seem to realise was that so does the management of foreign policy and diplomacy, “if the ship of state is not to be sailed onto the rocks or beached in the desert.”

Pakistan has had more than its share of cowboy ambassadors, some of whom have been sent out for no other reason than that they were once in the same uniform as the reigning Rawalpindi-risen “Commander of the Faithful” of the time, a “ paiti bhra ” as the delicious Punjabi phrase has it, a “brother of the belt.” One such, serving in a major capital many years ago, had a file on everything in the chancery and his residence. Each bush, each tree, each crumbling piece of furniture in the consular section had a folder entirely devoted to itself. Regular reports were to be submitted by the head of chancery as to the current state of their health and well-being. More than one of those serving under him were later found to be in need of serious psychiatric attention. His Excellency fared well and retired after several years of service. What was more, he was even re-employed. What happened to those scores of files, no one knows. I suspect the day the ambassador left the station, a bonfire was seen burning merrily in front of his former chancery.