In April 2008, to mark the 100th anniversary of Murrow’s birth, the Fletcher School of Tufts University presented a conference about “credible public diplomacy.” Credibility is the essence of successful public diplomacy. Murrow, while director of the United States Information Agency, said, “To be persuasive we must be believable; to be believable we must be credible; to be credible we must be truthful.” He added, “It’s as simple as that.”

Murrow thought it simple because he equated good public diplomacy with good journalism in the sense that accuracy must be its core. But in practice, delivering truthful public diplomacy can be complicated. Pursuit of short-term political gain can subvert truthfulness, and when that happens, public diplomacy is undermined.

Murrow’s views about public diplomacy were just a starting point for the Fletcher symposium.  The Fletcher Forum of World Affairs presents articles by some of the conference’s speakers and, despite a bit of redundancy here and there, this collection provides a valuable overview of modern public diplomacy.

Among the offerings:

• Mark McDowell discusses contrasts between small- and large-state public diplomacy.
• Bernard Simonin considers the semantics and other elements of “nation branding.”
• Leonard J. Baldyga contends that American public diplomacy overemphasizes the Muslim world, saying, “We are robbing Petrov to pay Pasha.”
• Lauren Brodsky argues for the importance of “engaging in a conversation about the actual goals of public diplomacy, reassessing missions, and evaluating how missions translate into actual messages.”
• Mark J. Davidson reviews the sophisticated, multifaceted appeal of a cultural diplomacy project.
• Erik Iverson outlines the “revolution in informational affairs” and the public diplomacy battle versus Al Qaeda.
• Sandy Vogelgesang cites the importance of public diplomacy having a moral underpinning so it will “reflect the nation’s traditional moral values.” She writes that “U.S. government officials should lecture less and listen more” (an opinion more recently voiced by Undersecretary of State Judith McHale).

The early public diplomacy of the Obama administration reflects the intrinsically dynamic nature of the field; in this instance the personalization of American public diplomacy efforts to an extent unprecedented in recent times.

What has not changed, however, is something Murrow recognized early on: public diplomacy is dependent on policy. Without that linkage, the credibility Murrow stressed cannot be attained.  (In the nation-branding field, for example, “North Korea – friend to all” presumably wouldn’t work, no matter how lavish the campaign.)

A case can be made that as public diplomacy has become more sophisticated, its proponents have lost sight of the fundamental importance of truth. Cutting corners is easy; truth is susceptible to infringement by those who overvalue expediency.

No nation’s public diplomacy is immune to this. Succumbing to the degradation of truth will ultimately leave that public diplomacy ineffective or worse. Ed Murrow’s prescription for credible public diplomacy is as valid today as it was nearly a half-century ago. The Fletcher Forum provides a valuable service by reminding us of that.

The Fletcher Forum of World Affairs, Special Edition 2008, Vol. 32:3, pp. 110, The Fletcher School, Tufts University.

The author has a clear purpose: he wants to show that California has distinct and very important connections with the outside world, and these connections are of growing significance in line with the advancing processes of globalization. He then wants to arrive at a realistic assessment of how much Californians and their government can and should seek to advance these interests on their own; finally, he gives an estimation of what would need to be done to make such policies effective. In the context of a discussion about how to promote California’s international interests, there comes a very succinct statement of the problem Professor Abraham Lowenthal intends to solve:

“As a single state in the US federal union, California has no clear foreign policy mandate, however, nor does it have a dedicated international policymaking apparatus. It lacks, therefore, an accepted means for identifying its international interests or those of its citizens and for fashioning strategies and mobilizing resources to advance them. Although Californians have important international policy interests, we do not have systematic ways to identify, rank and pursue them.” p. 81

The first part of the book demonstrates the virtue alluded to above. It is a very full account of the ways and circumstances in which California, more than any other part of the United States, is linked to the global cultural, economic, and transportation systems. Having laid these out and provided some historical context - chiefly to point out that California is no stranger to having vital international connections, even that some of them were stronger in the past than they are now - Professor Lowenthal goes on to describe how these connections are arranged across the state. Los Angeles is the most globally linked area, followed by San Francisco, and then comes San Diego- an area which arguably represents the greatest challenge to finding acceptable routes to an expansion of California’s international role. The problem there lies in a local paradox: San Diego is physically the closest city to another country and, were it not for the thus far insoluble problems associated with Mexican immigration, ought to be able to be the leader of a cross border area of shared economic expansion. The San Diego district is obviously not helped by the border problem nor by having less effective transportation routes than either Los Angeles or San Francisco, both of whose ports and airports are greatly superior. San Diego’s harbor is dominated by the Navy and the airport is too small. The paradox represented by San Diego reappears throughout this study in the form of a kind of leitmotiv, indicating that the question of whether immigration can or should be brought to a stop or whether attention should be concentrated on getting the best out of those who have arrived and those who will come later, is crucial for California. The role of California and other states is likely to increase in importance as attempted Federal Government solutions have failed thus far.

Although very important, and certainly international in its origins and consequences, the problems surrounding immigration are, in a sense, local. Professor Lowenthal very appropriately also provides a useful checklist of the other important international issues facing California. They include expanding the gains and addressing the costs to Californians of participating in the global economy. This breaks down, as it does all over the world, to encouraging investment, increasing international exports, and controlling the quantity and quality of imports- particularly those that might be distributed from California to the advantage of others but have adverse consequences locally. Also, California has already demonstrated its commitment to controlling its use of energy, guarding its supplies and its concern about climate change: this will continue to be a primary concern for the state. Next, California has a particular interest in global communications and culture. Lastly, building educational and cultural links and protecting international property rights have to be policies of significance for the state.

Finally, there is a discussion about how California might equip itself to perform more strongly and with more knowledge on the global stage. Professor Lowenthal’s recommendations include: using local and state means to try to resolve the immigration problem; mobilizing, as has signally not happened before, the state’s congressional representation so as to bridge the gap between what California needs and what constitutionally it can expect to receive; and concentrating the efforts of specially created commissions to build “enhanced capacity to help our citizens, firms, unions and other non-governmental organizations better understand and pursue their own interests” (p.126). “Above all,” he concludes, “we need to change our mindset from living in a parochial place with the dimensions of a country to participating in a truly cosmopolitan center, ready to provide important leadership in the twenty-first century.” (p,138)

It would be difficult to quarrel with either the material, the argument or the conclusions of this thoroughly well organized book. It would be possible, however, to add something. California is highly individual but not unique in having demographic and economic power on a scale greater than many countries, but not possessing the political institutions or sovereign power to match. There are other examples of similar situations – Bavaria and Catalonia in Europe, British Columbia in Canada, the Chinese coastal economic zones. In general, regional powers have tended to become extended, devolutions occur and this contributes to a general sense that the familiar lines of hierarchy and power in the international system are dissolving into something much more fluid. Then there are the institutions of global governance available at the other end of the power spectrum - chiefly the UN system - which were set up by states and also demonstrate the consequences of the dilution in the authority of the old nation state. In this, the United States is almost alone in the world in not feeling its effect very strongly and that may be why Professor Lowenthal sees the strength of the contemporary global system very clearly, yet describes California’s position in it without much reference to the global political consequences occurring elsewhere, occurring in fact more or less everywhere else. If California takes the medicine here prescribed, she will not find herself without company.

Global California, Rising to the Cosmopolitan Challenge
pp. 207, Stanford University Press, 2009

About the reviewer:
Richard Langhorne is Full Professor of Political Science at Rutgers University. He was Director of the Cambridge Centre of International Studies, 1987 – 1993 and Fellow of St. John’s College, Director of Wilton Park, British Foreign and Commonwealth Office, 1993-1996 and founding Director of the Division of Global Affairs at Rutgers University, 1996 – 2008. He has written extensively on diplomacy and global politics.

Potter’s argument is that Canada’s national qualities are ideal for the exercise of soft power (pp. x, 8). Canada arguably is the first “postmodern” state, with a self-image of helpfulness that focuses on international aid and peacekeeping (p. 5). Perhaps more than anything else, this trait, combined with an observed lack of investment by Canada in self-promotion, makes the study interesting. Great untapped potential exists and the need for successful branding of Canada is more urgent than generally realized. Canada is quite dependent on trade and thus its “international image” is of special concern (p. 25).

Despite the risks posed by that reality, Canada spends about 10% of the amount allocated on average by its G8 counterparts to public diplomacy. Examples of under-utilization abound in this book, which covers international education, broadcasting, business promotion and tourism with equal effectiveness. For instance, in the case of international education, no strategy exists to combine “Canadian Studies programs, academic and youth exchanges, scholarships, and internships” and broadcasting services are described as “distinctly underdeveloped” (pp. 151, 153). In sum, the history of Canadian public diplomacy amounts to “improvisation” (p. 92).

Potter offers well-informed and convincing solutions to the problems he identifies (At this point it might be noted that he is both an academic and practitioner with respect to public diplomacy). Ideas are derived from theorizing and case studies of Canadian public diplomacy with the United States and Brazil. High priorities include clear strategies and well-integrated tactics, along with well-staffed and funded professional public affairs teams. Key aspects that encourage these priorities come out in the case studies, namely, damage to Canadian interests as a trading state when (a) its reputation is sullied and (b) means are not available to respond quickly and effectively.

With regard to the content of the Canadian brand, Potter is quite pragmatic about how to get things across better than before. He urges simplification; too many messages can end up meaning no lasting impact for any one of them (p. 240). Canada’s established reputation abroad already is positive, generally speaking, and includes “diversity, tolerance, and inclusion”.  It also is worth noting, before turning to specific suggestions, that traditional instruments of public diplomacy remain relevant but that the environment for their deployment manifests revolutionary change. An agenda for more effective public diplomacy must take into account the need for “broad-based public consent at home and abroad” (p. 254). For such reasons the book calls for the following major innovations in public diplomacy:

• greater understanding of the countries being targeted by public diplomacy
• integration of Canadian presence in global information networks, especially television and the internet
• greater alignment of public diplomacy efforts with international priorities
• more use of opportunities presented by the private sector
• exercise of mutual public diplomacy

Implementing these ideas should enable Canada, according to Potter, to realize its most important goals for public diplomacy. The lessons learned in the Canadian context apply with very little adjustment to its G8 peers and even to states well beyond that elite subset.

While Potter’s treatment of Canadian public diplomacy is comprehensive, rigorous and compelling, even an outstanding book such as this one is likely to raise as many questions as it answers. Two areas come to mind for further discussion: the role of anti-Americanism and connections with political realist thinking.

Potter expresses surprise at the difficulties encountered by Canada during era of the Smart Border Declaration, noting that the proposal did not seem to “gain traction in US public discourse” (p. 243). Damage to its brand caused by an image of weakness in standing up to international terrorism also caught Canada off guard. The shock experienced here by Canada reflects a lack of understanding about the cumulative impact of anti-Americanism in its political discourse. The sometimes hostile and even boorish pronouncements of Canadian politicians are grist for the right-wing mill in US politics. It is especially damaging to have a prime minister caught admitting that anti-US rhetoric is good politics at home. The effects of such gaffes or even intentional barbs on US opinion tend to be understood poorly north of the border. Potter’s recommendation that Canada focus more on understanding other countries, ironically, could apply to its US neighbor as much as any other country in the world. Relations with the US are crucial to Canadian peace and prosperity. Canadians in general, and some of their leaders in particular, may underestimate the damage that the “guilty pleasure” of highly expressive anti-Americanism can do to a relationship that is more interdependent than ever before.

Perhaps somewhat humorously, advocates of political realpolitik will notice an implicit dialogue in Branding Canada with their theorizing. Potter urges Canada to be self-conscious about its need as a trading state to maintain a positive image abroad. This is not just about doing things that make the country look “nice” for its own sake. Instead, Potter’s analysis brings soft power back into a discussion with capability in an overall sense. Public diplomacy, for instance, is cited as a means to alleviate Canada’s loss of power relative to other states in the era since World War II.

Branding Canada will become a standard in the field of public diplomacy for years to come. This book is of interest to those who care about either Canada in particular or public diplomacy in general. It even speaks to more general concerns about international relations and should be required reading for academics and practitioners alike.

Reviewed by Patrick James, University of Southern California, with contributions from Sean Rushton and Jason Bouzanis.

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You can also read the transcript of our 2008 conversation about this book with Dr. Evan Potter when he was CPD’s Canada-U.S. Fulbright Visiting Research Chair in Public Diplomacy here.

For a PDF of the full FCO Publication, click here

When Paul Sharp says that our publication “Engagement” asks more questions than it answers, he is right. Our aim was not to try to come up with a rigid template for public diplomacy but to sketch out a theory of engagement that gives a revived public diplomacy a much higher profile, describing a practical toolkit useful to support foreign policy objectives. Our stance is that public diplomacy is absolutely not an “add on” to traditional diplomacy; it belongs in the mainstream of international relations.

Professor Sharp does, however, ask some important questions: Is public diplomacy really different from propaganda? Is there a tension between national interest and being a good multilateralist? Are diplomats there to manage relationships or are they judgment makers and decision takers?

Let’s start with propaganda. No one can deny that propaganda has had and will continue to have its uses, most explicitly when a people is engaged in war for national survival, as was the case in World War II. But for everyday use, a better definition of public diplomacy is John Brown’s:  “truthful, factual exposition and explication of a nation’s foreign policy”. Whilst propaganda forces its messages on an audience, and oversimplifies or even demonises contending positions, good public diplomacy listens, engages and tries to present a nation’s own goals and achievements transparently and with supporting evidence.

Propaganda is by definition one-way communication, designed to be inscrutable or even to trick the target audience. It implies that one party has a firm position or ideology that it wishes to impose via highly persuasive communication techniques upon another.  Strategic communication, in the hands of a skilled public diplomatist, is, by contrast, a systematic approach to delivering objectives by generating more effective understanding of audiences and more effective ways of connecting with them to develop solutions that potentially shift attitudes and change behaviours on all sides. The decisive point is that this understanding can shape the policy goal itself.

The means employed in Public Diplomacy differ, therefore, from those used in propaganda.  For example, when the UK Department of Health set out to re-shape its thinking through the use of strategic communication, its tools included a consultation exercise in which the views of 10,000 people were taken into account. It would be very cynical to regard this as propaganda.

Professor Sharp’s unease comes from his sense that the ends in strong public diplomacy – behaviour change – are the same. But wanting to change someone else’s behaviour isn’t restricted to either public diplomacy or propaganda. It’s there in most forms of professional communication – whether a car advertisement or a blog on the website of a campaigning NGO.

Our aim in “Engagement” was to show that public diplomacy can make foreign policy more open, more thoughtful, more rigorous, more professional and more effective.  Paul Sharp seems to think that whilst it is acceptable for governments to use strat comms to get people to wear seatbelts or stop smoking, we should draw back from using such persuasive techniques in the domain of foreign policy.  Why would it not be reasonable to use strategic communications, and therefore public diplomacy, to make it harder for violent extremists to increase their base of support?

Conrad Bird’s article in “Engagement” hinges around a simple idea that, when asked to consider their choices and behaviour, people ask “What’s in it for me?”.  It’s harder to answer that question for foreign policy than it is for, say, wearing a seatbelt. But it can be done.  Paul Sharp quotes Jim Murphy asking, in his article in “Engagement:” how we can get Afghan tribesmen to buy into a long term democratic vision for Afghanistan.  Part of the answer comes from Conrad Bird’s article – of what’s in it for the tribesman.  It’s the same for an issue like climate change.  What’s in it for a businessman in China or in India? Can careful public diplomacy widen the appeal of a given policy or position?

Of course in all public diplomacy there’s going to be something in it for us:  we want a democratic Afghanistan and we want a global deal on climate change. But the point is not to impose our answers onto people in other countries, but to explore synergies; points of mutual interest in search of a sustainable solution as opposed to one shaped by temporarily superior negotiating muscle.

This concept goes some way to answering Professor Sharp’s second question. Is there tension between national interest and being a good multilateralist?

In practice, every case will be different. No state is likely to act with reckless disregard for its own self-interest, but it is equally true that states seldom take positions without any regard at all for a broader, international set of considerations.  Professor Sharp’s distinction between the national interest and “the international relations approach” is too dogmatically drawn. In an increasingly interdependent world, systems of international governance will only thrive if they help states meet their national interest as well as proving sufficiently flexible in the face of shifting geo-political power balances.

Professor Sharp’s third insight is more complex. He asks: is the public diplomat a thinker or a doer? I don’t think that we intended to suggest in Engagement that the ancient garb of diplomacy has acquired a blue collar. The meeting rooms of Geneva and the TV studios of a foreign affairs programme are a long way from the coal face. But we did want to suggest that diplomats, aid workers, even peacekeepers, have a very special value – they live alongside the people we are trying to influence. Their job is increasingly to understand on-the-ground concerns and factor them into our policy making.

This role is specifically public diplomacy, as opposed to government to government relations. One of the challenges of the publication, which was on our mind as we edited the collection, was to maintain a distinction between these two forms of diplomacy. At times, despite our best efforts, the picture of a “traditional” diplomat occasionally emerged, usually stigmatised as old fashioned and wrong headed. Paul Sharp is quite right to point out that “old as well as new games are being played for old as well as new ends”.

The good diplomat has indeed always been a convener. He or she has always held dinner parties where ideas and solutions are mulled over. Diplomats brief the local media – on or off the record; they speak at universities and hold private meetings in the offices of an NGO or the political opposition.

Our aim has not been to suggest that any of this work is fruitless or even outmoded. Simply that the rise in open access media and the growth in one form or another of direct citizen voice means that there are more people in the world who will influence whether or not we achieve our foreign policy aims. Since these same forces also enable us to use new and interesting ways to engage with them, it seems counter-productive to decline the opportunity.

The challenge in practice is to become good at the new public diplomacy.  That is why, unlike Professor Sharp, I would not set my compass to Talleyrand’s injunction: “surtout, pas trop de zele”.  Without a certain level of energy, and an ability to spot emotional as well as intellectual currents, public diplomacy today is unlikely to achieve its goals.  A laconic smile and a stiff upper lip are not necessarily guaranteed to engage the imagination and solidarity of others half way around the world.

For the UK Foreign & Commonwealth Office’s response to this review, click here.

This is an excellent volume of essays on aspects of public diplomacy commissioned by Jim Murphy MP, the Minister for Europe at the British Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO), and made freely available online at the address above. Mr. Murphy and the FCO are to be commended for this effort. The breadth of the subjects covered, together with the manner of their treatment and the format in which they appear are all testament to the central thesis of the collection, namely that the way many international relations are handled is changing and changing fast in response to globalization. These changes are no more in evidence than in the (re)emergence of public diplomacy as both an instrument of foreign policy exploiting new techniques of communication made possible by the revolutions in information and communications technologies, and as a way of conducting international relations in general with the potential to subsume, not only more traditional relations, but also the very actors between whom they are undertaken.

The collection consists of two parts, the first with ten essays on aspects of public diplomacy in general; the second of two essays with case studies. It begins with a look back at the lessons learned from past experience provided by the University of Southern California’s Nicholas J. Cull and Simon Anholt, a consultant who serves as an independent member of the FCO’s Public Diplomacy Board. Effective public diplomacy begins with listening, for example, and it also recognizes its own limits. You cannot simply brand a country in the same way you brand a product, but you can help people in other countries see your strengths and virtues more clearly. Alex Evans, a Non-Resident Fellow at New York University’s Center on International Cooperation and River Path Associates’ Managing Director, David Steven then sketch out a theory of contemporary foreign policy influence for addressing primary global issues like terrorism, good government in developing countries, and climate change. Public diplomacy contributes to solving these problems by building successively: a shared understanding of what they are; a shared platform for a campaign of change; and a shared operating system within which collective response can be undertaken. Professor Brian Hocking, in contrast, is more interested in the processes engendered by a shift from hierarchical structures to horizontal networks in social relations. The challenge for governments and their diplomats is to learn how to task these networks and get them to do what you want by working effectively with a wide variety of stakeholders who inhabit them and need to be involved in the policy process as early as possible.

The focus of the volume then shifts from a world of possibly new, but familiar, players to the world of difference implied by culture. Inter-cultural connections build confidence, argues the British Council’s Martin Davidson, as he sketches out roles for diplomats as “boundary spanners” and innovative “network weavers” producing creative inter-cultural relationships. However, cultures are very different in quite basic and important ways, independent consultant Marieke de Mooij notes, and we can get into terrible trouble if we do not realize that this is so. Possibly, but if you take the time to get to know your target well, Conrad Bird of the British Government’s Cabinet Office maintains, through strategic communication pitched in terms of their interests and values, you can produce dramatic shifts in behavior unattainable by direct appeals based on one’s own terms of reference. This emphasis on technique, and the plethora of new techniques becoming available, is developed by Evan H. Potter of the University of Ottawa in his review of the interactive capacities of the second generation of the world wide web. Through the web, peoples can talk back to governments, they can talk to each other directly, and they may soon be sharing emotions, as well as ideas, if the promises of “Web 3.0” hold up. The kind of diplomats required for such a world and, particularly, the rough parts of it, is examined by Daryl Copeland, Senior Advisor in Strategic Policy and Planning at Canada’s Department of Foreign Affairs and International Trade. In addition to the old virtues which, as Sir Harold Nicolson might say, can be taken for granted, they had better be fit, brave and very flexible.  The collection concludes with case studies by the FCO’s Lucian Hudson and Alan Anstead of how people from government, business and non-governmental agencies worked successfully together on French environment policy, Indian HIV policy and climate change legislation in the US, and by Louise Vintner of the FCO and the British Council’s David Knox on how the impact of their respective institutions’ programs is evaluated.

Taken together, the essays provide a very good introduction to the breadth and scope of the field indicated by the idea of public diplomacy. For those already familiar with the field, they also provide some insight into how the thinking of its leaders is evolving. Anholt’s lowering of expectations regarding national branding and Hocking’s argument about the pressures and imperatives for stakeholders to collaborate in network politics are instructive in this regard, while Potter’s and Copeland’s pieces convincingly demonstrate what a long, strange trip most of us will have to take if we really are going to embrace the idea of public diplomacy and all its potentials. From a more academic point of view, however, which admittedly may not be so important here, the collection disappoints. It does so in that the focus of most of the contributors remains firmly on a past which they all agree must be critiqued and left behind. It is this alone that holds what is, in fact, a very disparate collection of viewpoints and treatments of very different subjects together under the rubric of public diplomacy. If the intellectual side of the business is to prosper, however, it will need to move beyond critique and advocacy to sharpening the concepts used, teasing out the tensions and contradictions which exist between some of them, and generating interesting arguments and stimulating debates within the field of public diplomacy itself.

Let me offer three themes I believe are present in the essays but which are insufficiently developed. The first is the tension between seeing public diplomacy in foreign policy terms and in international relations terms. Those interested in foreign policy see public diplomacy primarily as a set of techniques for advancing the interests and promoting the values of entities which they take to be a given. Thus Murphy wants to know how we can get Afghan tribesmen to buy into “a long-term democratic vision for Afghanistan,” (p.13) and Copeland wants public diplomats animated by, among other things, “the desire to pursue national interests” (139). However, if we take to heart the international relations approach to public diplomacy with its emphasis on network relations, their corrosive effects on established identities and the opportunities they present for people to speak (and listen) to each other in new ways, we may be forgiven for asking “why?” in both cases. Why should Afghans buy in to democracy, and what is so special about the national interest? Neither question can be answered without first acknowledging that public diplomacy sometimes has political drivers and always has political significance, but this is an acknowledgement that the public diplomacy literature seems very reluctant to make.

The consequences of this reluctance are highlighted by my second theme, the old argument as to whether or not public diplomacy is really different from propaganda. Murphy notes that public diplomacy is not a new activity. Napoleon, for example, considered having his army convert to Islam prior to invading Egypt (p.7) while Evans and Steven maintain “Bin Laden is the quintessential public diplomat” (p.48). With the benefit of these insights, I found myself re-reading Bird’s enthusiastic account of how strategic communication can move people in the direction you want them to go (albeit, in this case, the worthy and wholesome directions of less smoking and more seatbelt-wearing), in a rather different light. If all this is public diplomacy or is, at least, on the minds of some of those practicing it, then I would not like to be one of their targets. People want relationships with one another as good things in themselves and for more instrumental purposes, but no one wants to be approached in the former terms for the latter reasons any more than they like a huckster who says he’s offering them a deal because he’s taken a shine to them.

This should not be big news, and I am not presenting the world of public diplomacy as populated by ruthless Machiavellis on the one hand and naïve transformationalists on the other. The picture is far more complex. As Evans and Steven suggest, it is perfectly possible for the transformationalists to disrupt and destroy a consensus or clear a deadlock blocking an outcome they conceive as good (p.57). That they can, however, brings me to my third theme, the tension between the conception of diplomacy as managing relations whilst things do or do not get done and the conception which prevails in this collection of its actually being at the coalface of major problem-solving. There is, and always has been, a place for both, and the place of the latter is clearly growing as a result of changes in international relations which it is impossible to ignore. A professional virtue of the managing-relations conception, however, is skepticism, and it is this quality that is almost completely absent from the collection. As some of these essays, perhaps unintentionally, reveal, old as well as new games are being played for old as well as new ends in public diplomacy, generating the sorts of problems which diplomacy was designed to ease as much as solve. This being so, perhaps an essay or two from more conventional diplomats on their experiences in the field might have helped remind us that even new public diplomats, if they want to be effective, will need to remember the old injunction associated with Talleyrand “surtout, pas trop de zèle.”

About the reviewer
Paul Sharp is Professor and Head of Political Science at the University of Minnesota Duluth, USA. He is the author of two books and numerous articles on foreign policy and diplomacy. He is currently co-editor of The Hague Journal of Diplomacy and Palgrave’s “Diplomacy and International Relations” Series and was the founding chair of both the Diplomatic Studies and English School sections of the International Studies Association.

For the British Foreign & Commonwealth Office’s response to this review, please click here.

About the reviewer

Alan K. Henrikson is Director of Diplomatic Studies at The Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University, where he recently chaired the Edward R. Murrow 100th Anniversary Conference, “Credible Public Diplomacy—A Lesson for Our Times”.  He is author of What Can Public Diplomacy Achieve? (Clingendael, 2006).

Seeing the cover photo of Poles eagerly perusing the latest issue of “Ameryka” magazine, USIA’s premier publication for the Soviet bloc, brought back memories of my monthly rounds of kiosks in Moscow back in 1980 to check on the number of copies of “Amerika” (America Illustrated) delivered to each, as this was an important gauge of U.S.-Soviet relations.  Good relations equaled more copies for sale to Soviet citizens; bad relations meant more copies returned to the Embassy as unsold due to “lack of interest.” Relations were very tense back then, in the aftermath of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and the U.S. boycott of the Moscow Olympics that summer, so the number of copies of “Amerika” returned to the Embassy reached the tens of thousands.  We eventually got them distributed in subsequent years as relations improved, and they took pride of place in cramped communal apartments across the vast Soviet empire, each well-thumbed copy pored over by multiple readers hungry for information about life in the United States.

Likewise, Richmond’s account of the USIA touring exhibitions program, which over a 32 year period beginning in 1959 brought 23 major exhibitions to the USSR that were visited by 20 million Soviet citizens, sparked personal memories.  It was as a Russian and Ukrainian-speaking guide on one of those exhibits that I, as a recent college graduate, was introduced to public diplomacy.  That experience led me to a career in the Foreign Service.

Although Richmond’s personal memoir gets off to a somewhat slow start in the first chapter on Germany, which bogs down in too much detail on his daily comings and goings, the section on nation building in Laos in the mid-50’s piques interest, and things get going once Richmond arrives in Poland.  He really moves into his element with the vivid descriptions of U.S.-Soviet cultural relations as experienced during his assignment to Moscow in the late 60’s.  Richmond’s recollections of the painstaking work that went into hammering out detailed cultural agreements with the Soviets is insightful, and serves to highlight the key role those accords played in our bilateral relations at the time.  In describing the intense negotiations between the two sides, Richmond quips, “It was an eye for an eye, if not always a truth for a truth.”

Assessing the long term impact of these efforts, Richmond points out that, “U.S.-Soviet cultural exchange, conducted over a period of 30 years, helped prepare the way for the end of the Cold War, and at a fraction of the cost of our military and intelligence operations over the same years.” In the words of one Russian musician: “Cultural exchanges were another opening to the West, and additional proof that our media were not telling us the truth.”

Recounting his time in Poland in 1959, Richmond describes a PD officer’s dream scenario: “In those years, we had little or no guidance from Washington on what to do in Poland, and didn’t need any.  Opportunities for Public Diplomacy were everywhere, funding was available, and all we had to do was establish the priorities.”

It was another era.  And yet, many of the strategies, approaches and programs used to such great effect at that time served us well in subsequent years, and are still relevant today.

According to Richmond, the venerable George F. Kennan, in describing the importance of cultural contact in combating anti-Americanism, observed that if we could only convey the value we attach to our cultural life beyond our borders, he “would willingly trade the entire remaining inventory of political propaganda for the results that could be achieved by such means alone.”

The sad reality is that even though many experienced officers spoke up about the value of cultural exchange and the ongoing need for a robust public diplomacy effort in the world even with the end of the Cold War, those recommendations fell on deaf ears.  Cultural and exhibit offices were dismantled, publications abolished, libraries and information centers closed, budgets for public diplomacy drastically reduced.  It was time for a “peace dividend,” many politicians said.

And even though there was a substantial infusion of resources into Russia and the other countries of the former Soviet Union in the 90’s under the Freedom Support Act, after barely a decade--half a generation-- that funding was severely reduced and redirected to other areas deemed to have a higher priority.  As Minister Counselor for Public Affairs in Moscow from 2001 to 2003, I could see the cumulative impact of our exchanges and information programs on tens of thousands of people across the vast reaches of Russia.  Establishing and nurturing democracy and free markets on the ruins of Communist states requires sustained effort over generations.  Jack Matlock, former Ambassador to the USSR, points out in his forward to this volume that the work done by Yale Richmond and others during the Cold War may not have had an impact that was immediately apparent, but it did lead over time to reform and change, with participants in our exchange programs playing key roles.  So it is today.

Making the case for increased spending on “soft power,” Defense Secretary Gates in a speech last November put the matter in stark terms: “This year’s budget for the Department of Defense--not counting operations in Iraq and Afghanistan--is nearly half a trillion dollars.  The total foreign affairs budget request for the State Department is $36 billion--less than what the Pentagon spends on health care alone.” The portion devoted to public diplomacy is only about $974 million.  In a word: we need more resources to do the job.

Summing up his Cold War odyssey, Richmond poses these questions: “Will similar public diplomacy practices succeed in the twenty-first century?  Can what worked to defeat communism in the Twentieth Century serve as a model for defeating terrorism and anti-Americanism in the much different world we live in today?”

Richmond responds in the affirmative, and I agree, while recognizing the dramatically altered global communications environment.  Given the right number of people and sufficient resources, public diplomacy can continue to play a vital role in serving the national interest, and make friends for the United States around the world.  The most important tools in the public diplomacy officer’s kit have stood the test of time: fostering exchanges of all kinds, from high school to grad students, to young professionals and future leaders across the spectrum; providing credible information about the U.S. via both new and mass media, as well as easy access to resources, through small information centers, that highlight the vibrancy of our democracy; and promoting programs that showcase the best of American culture in the performing and plastic arts, which can serve to break down barriers and create universal human bonds.

Richmond’s personal account of how public diplomacy was conducted during the Cold War gives the reader a practitioner’s perspective on this fascinating period in our history, and underscores public diplomacy’s continued importance in the conduct of U.S. foreign policy.

Enter this world with Rajiv Chandrasekaran and prepare to… laugh.  You know you shouldn’t, but some of his vignettes on the heights of hubris on the Tigris are so outrageously funny that you might weep.  As you should, for the absurd tragicomedy of life in the Green Zone is rendered here as nowhere else.  Funny but never flippant, Chandrasekaran was The Washington Post Baghdad Bureau Chief before, during, and after the invasion.

Though there is shooting, this is not a “war story,” and most of the fireworks are from policy conflicts within the blast-proof walls of the American bunker.  “Green Zone Scenes” provide illuminating introductions to each chapter’s theme.  There are good guys and gals who earnestly try to contribute to rebuilding war-torn Iraq, though many are completely out of their depth.  The wounds are mostly self-inflicted, and they are many: the Pentagon prohibits retired general Jay Garner, the original post-conflict czar, from seeing the multi-volume State Department “Future of Iraq” study; free marketeers bent on privatizing Iraqi state-owned industry succeed in adding thousands to the ranks of the unemployed.  “A Deer In the Headlights,” as one chapter is entitled, sums up the willful disregard for area expertise, rejected in favor of ideological certainties.

My favorite vignette is on the public diplomacy skills of the CPA’s police chief: “experts concluded that more than 6,600 foreign police advisers should be sent to Iraq immediately.  The White House dispatched just one: Bernie Kerik.” Kerik spent only a couple of months in Iraq before returning to the U.S. and his ill-fated run for Homeland Security Secretary.  At one point he asks an aide, “who the [expletive deleted] are these people?,” referring to a group of Iraqi judges, assembled at the Palace to meet CPA counterparts.  We are not told whether they overheard Kerik.

Not all CPA staffers had such bad manners, but the mutual incomprehension was the same.  Stratcomm (Strategic Communications, or the PR shop) had true believers in the civ-mil duo of Dan Senor and Brigadier General Mark Kimmitt; Chandrasekaran highlights one revealing press conference exchange with an Iraqi journalist:

Q: General Kimmitt, the sound of American helicopters, which fly so close to the ground, is terrifying young children, especially at night.  Why do you insist on flying so low and scaring the Iraqi people?
A: What we would tell the children of Iraq is that the noise they hear is the sound of freedom. [Followed by 15 lines of similar sanctimonious sentiment.]

If Bremer was the lord of the Green Zone, Senor was the ruler of the “Green Room,” as the Stratcomm home in the Republican Palace was known.  Senor, says Chandrasekaran, had a “you’re-either-with-us-or-against-us attitude toward journalists.” Chandrasekaran tells of seeing only Fox News switched on in Senor’s office, and notes that Senor joined Fox post-CPA as a paid commentator on Iraq.

Public diplomacy professionals will be further interested in the in-depth treatment given to broadcast professional Don North and his efforts to set up the Iraq Media Network (IMN).  This seat-of-the-pants, under-funded, misspent resources tale is emblematic of the entire venture.  Instead of a beacon of press freedom, said North, “to some in the CPA, IMN was a propaganda tool: ‘we’re paying for it, so we can decide what airs.’”

Chandrasekaran tells of media budgets blown to airlift in flashy armored Humvees, when North was in dire need of basics like batteries for TV cameras; of a staged “interview” of Bremer by Senor, which the Iraqi IMN staff deemed “agitprop” and refused to air; and of a CPA-imposed daily propaganda show, preempting the IMN news.

IMN, North concluded, “had become an irrelevant mouthpiece for CPA propaganda, managed news, and mediocre programs.” In Washington, President Bush talked about “engaging in the battle of ideas in the Arab world.” But in Baghdad, North said, “We have already lost the first round.”

As black-comedic as “Emerald City” often is, the overall theme is of lost opportunities.  Decisions—often based solely on received ideological wisdom with no foundation in Middle Eastern realities—are made, and the consequences are tragic.  “A wasted year,” is the verdict of several American and Iraqi insiders.

Many excellent books have been written—some admittedly weightier—on the ambiguous venture called “Operation Iraqi Freedom.” The strength of “Emerald City” is in its anecdotes, for they provide a human backdrop for well-known events like the disbanding of the Iraqi Army and the descent into anarchic looting.  There are limits to the anecdotal approach, however.  In the chapter entitled “The Plan Unravels,” I wish that Chandrasekaran had tried a bit less to explicate the meanders of Bremer’s various constitutional, electoral, and institutional attempts to impose his imprint on Iraqi politics.  “Emerald City” is best read as a nonfiction novel, and Chandrasekaran makes effective use of a string of interviews with lesser-known CPA staffers, tracing their efforts, whether heroic or misguided.

“Emerald City” is above all an antidote to those who still insist on America’s “transformational” role in imposing or inducing culture-changing attitudes in foreign lands.  Chandrasekaran shows the limits of “Strategic Communication,” where the message, no matter how expertly packaged and delivered, is undermined by the realities evident to all.  Chandrasekaran, who quotes T.E. Lawrence, would have preferred that the CPA had read the legendary Arabist’s admonition:  “Do not try to do too much with your own hands.  Better the Arabs do it tolerably well than that you do it perfectly...” In the subsequent five years, the Emerald City’s CPA morphed into the largest American Embassy in the world, the CPA nation builders left their grandiose plans for Iraq behind and jumped on the plane, and Paul Bremer collected his Presidential Medal of Freedom.  Chandrasekaran’s highly credible book shows that for the “diplomacy of the deed” to be effective, humility à la Lawrence is in order.

About the reviewer

Gerald Loftus is a retired U.S. Foreign Service Officer living in Brussels.  He left the U.S. State Department in 2002, after 24 years in North Africa, the Middle East, and Europe, last serving as Chargé d’Affaires of the American Embassy in Luxembourg.  Most recently a consultant to the Defense Department’s Africa Center for Strategic Studies and the U.S. Joint Forces Command, he provides advice on the nexus between diplomacy and defense.  His website, Avuncular American, comments on world events as seen by an expatriate in Europe.

As I read Andrew F. Cooper’s Celebrity Diplomacy, a first-rate meditation on the role of media stars as international relations players, my mind went back to 2000 and a visit by Bono, lead singer of the mega-group U2, to Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government.  I heard a commotion outside my office on the third floor of the Littauer Center and peered out into the hallway just in time to see a diminutive figure with longish hair disappear around the corner.  Several young women staffers were standing about in a gaga state.  “Did you see?” one breathlessly declared.  “That was BONO!” I had recently heard that Professor Jeffrey Sachs, who headed the Kennedy School’s Center for International Development, had struck up an acquaintanceship with the Irish vocalist; the two shared an interest in the issue of Third World poverty and debt forgiveness as an antidote.  Bono was in fact on his way over to the CID office for a meeting with Sachs.  (For Bono’s June 2001 Harvard Class Day speech, click here .) At the time, the budding relationship between the buttoned-down academic and the flamboyant rock star seemed to many observers, myself included, little more than an bemusing, ephemeral oddity.

Those of us who at the time minimized Bono’s social-political commitment as a well-meaning pop musician’s passing fancy were of course proven wrong.  The cover of Celebrity Diplomacy features a photograph taken years later of Bono walking confidently beside President George Bush, a testament to the longevity and seriousness of the singer-activist’s humanitarian efforts, as well as the extraordinary access to the corridors of political power that he has developed.  Unsurprisingly, Bono looms large in Cooper’s analysis of celebrities who seek to play a constructive role in international affairs, whether through an affiliation with intergovernmental institutions like UN-affiliated agencies, NGOs like Greenpeace and Amnesty International, or through freelance efforts of varying sophistication.

Cooper’s taxonomy of celebrity diplomacy is straightforward.  “To retain the label of ‘celebrity diplomats’,” he writes, “individuals must not only possess ample communication skills, a sense of mission, and some global reach.  They must enter into the official diplomatic world and operate through the matrix of complex relationships with state officials.” (p. 7) The historic template for celebrity diplomacy was provided by actors Danny Kaye and especially Audrey Hepburn in their work for UNICEF, the UN Children’s Fund in the mid-to-late twentieth century.  Today we have the nonpareil Bono, “the talisman of celebrity diplomacy” (p. 36), who has turned out to be preternaturally gifted in the art of navigating and manipulating traditional power precincts, whether the White House, Whitehall, or the World Economic Forum.  Aside from Bono, Cooper offers sharp overviews of the activities and effectiveness of other celebrity diplomats, including former Boomtown Rats lead singer Sir Bob Geldof—mastermind of Live Aid and the “outsider” yang to Bono’s “insider” ying; the surprisingly effective and engaged British footballer David Beckham; the Late Princess Diana; and of course actress Angelina Jolie (also featured on the cover of Celebrity Diplomacy), who has displayed perseverance and braved numerous hardships in her ongoing role as a goodwill ambassador for the UN’s High Commissioner for Refugees.

As Cooper notes, Jolie is if anything an even more implausible celebrity diplomat success story than was Bono, an actress who “reveled in an image of wild, eccentric behavior via her series of relationships with celebrity men … multiple tattoos, and a variety of other ‘silly self-destructive things.’” (p. 32) But she has been diligent and committed in her efforts, garnering respect from figures like Jeffrey Sachs and former Council on Foreign Relations president Winston Lord, who expressed to me his great admiration for Jolie in a conversation some months back.

Along with the celebrity diplomat successes there have been clunkers, such as Gerri Halliwell of the Spice Girls, who quickly lost interest in advocating for the UN on family planning, and Sarah Ferguson, the Duchess of York, whose financial problems led her away from pro bono UN activism to concentrate on her contract with Weight Watchers.  And then there are the “loose cannons” (p. 115)—figures like actor Richard Gere and singer-actor Harry Belafonte, and even Princess Di herself, who have both affiliated themselves with official agencies and made transgressive, undiplomatic statements, such as Belafonte’s 2006 denunciation of George W. Bush as “the greatest terrorist in the world” on Venezuelan television in the presence of an approving Hugo Chavez.

Nonetheless, Cooper is quite correct in concluding that while celebrity diplomacy is not problem-free, the benefits can be considerable:  “The best celebrity diplomats have figured out far more successfully than their professional counterparts how a sophisticated form of public diplomacy can be operated.” (p. 127) But there is an undiscussed potential dark side to celebrity diplomacy that goes beyond the risk of trivializing or distorting critical issues that concerns contemporary critics of the phenomenon (p. 114).  Celebrity Diplomacy concentrates exclusively on efforts undertaken in support of humanitarian and liberal causes.  African poverty may have made strange bedfellows of George Bush and Bono, but few on the left would argue with the sentiment behind their partnership.

But what about when celebrities support vile regimes and programs?  Charles Lindbergh was one of America’s foremost celebrities in the 1930s due to both his history-making solo flight across the Atlantic and the tragic kidnapping and murder of his child.  Lindbergh repeatedly visited Nazi Germany, lauded the Nazis’ accomplishments and the power of the Luftwaffe, received a medal from Air Marshall Herman Goering, and vigorously opposed war between the U.S. and Germany.  In the 1960s Hollywood producer Samuel Bronston established a high-profile movie studio in Franco Spain, where he offered unstinting aid to the international propaganda efforts of the right-wing military dictatorship there via popular epic films like El Cid, pro-Franco documentaries, and promoting U.S. and other international tourism to Spain.  And last year director Steven Spielberg signed on as a leading consultant to China’s communist government for the 2008 Beijing Olympiad, a role he recently relinquished in the face of withering criticism from opponents of Chinese policy toward Sudan and the Darfur genocide like actress Mia Farrow, who warned the director of Schindler’s List that he risked becoming “the Leni Riefenstahl of the Beijing Olympics.” Whether out of ideological affinity (Lindbergh), ruthless instrumentalism (Bronston), or sheer heedlessness (Spielberg), celebrities have periodically placed themselves in the service of heinous, or at least morally dubious, causes.

Still, such activities are clearly the exception, not the rule, when it comes to celebrity diplomacy.  The great majority of such efforts conform to a Hippocratic standard:  at worst, they Do No Harm; and the best efforts, like those of Angelina Jolie and Bono, dramatically expand the parameters of what has traditionally thought to be achievable via diplomacy.  Andrew Cooper has done an outstanding job of exploring this brave, not-quite-new world.  Moreover, aside from its substantive virtues, Celebrity Diplomacy displays clear organization, a salutary brevity, and a droll wit (for example, “Bono had to deal with rebukes that his ‘day’ and ‘night’ jobs—even if Bono’s day job was most often performed at night—were at odds with each other.” [p. 42]).  Future scholars of this subject, and I hope there will be many, will owe a great debt to his seminal study.

About the reviewer

Matthew Thomas is a Doctoral student in Musicology at the University of Southern California and is currently working on his dissertation, which concerns jazz and cultural diplomacy in the Middle East.  Matt is an avid teacher and gives frequent pre–concert lectures for the Da Camera Society of Mt. St. Mary’s College.  He regularly contributes program notes for the annual Mozart Woche in Salzburg, Austria.  His writings on the folk music of Chechnya have been published in the online journal Resonance and he has presented a paper on the representation of the Crusades in medieval song at the international conference on Music and War in the Czech Republic.  His experience in foreign policy and public relations includes internships with the U.S. Department of State in Vienna, Austria and Hamburg, Germany.  As a professional singer, he performs with the USC chamber choir and works as a soloist and section leader at churches in Los Angeles and Orange County.