http://uscpublicdiplomacy.org/index.php/research/book_reviews/ This unique collection contains reviews of recent and classical publications of interest to the public diplomacy community reviewed by public diplomacy practitioners and scholars. en USC Center on Public Diplomacy Copyright 2012 2012-12-17T20:17:52+00:00 #When:20:17:52Z Nicholas Cull’s new book The Decline and Fall of the United States Information Agency: American Public Diplomacy, 1989-2001 is the second and final volume in his comprehensive history of the United States Information Agency (USIA), the independent foreign affairs agency within the executive branch of the U.S. government charged with the conduct of public diplomacy (PD) from 1953 to 1999. The first volume traces the Agency from its post-World War II birthing pains to what many perceive to be its high-water mark in 1989 when, in December of that year, Mikhail Gorbachev and George H. W. Bush declared the Cold War over at the Malta Summit. The current volume tracks the Agency’s decline in the subsequent decade, culminating in its consolidation into the State Department in October, 1999. Decline and Fall is a well-researched work, marked by lively writing and a keen eye for irony. Cull does not pull his punches in assessing the impact (decidedly negative) on U.S. public diplomacy of USIA’s forced march into oblivion, and his analysis of the very American reasons behind this curious chapter in U.S. diplomatic history is particularly insightful.  Cull has chosen a top-down approach as his organizing principle for the book. The chapters align with a Presidential administration and focus on the individuals chosen by the President to head the Agency. While somewhat limiting, this is probably a wise choice for two reasons. First, much of the success or failure of USIA over the course of its history depended to a considerable degree on the relationship of its Director with the President, National Security Advisor, and Secretary of State, as well as on the Director’s individual capacity to lead and maneuver in a very politicized space. In fact, as the decade of the 90s wore on, it seemed increasingly apparent that the fate of USIA was being decided, not on the basis of its value to the nation, but as a piece to be traded in a high-stakes game of political chess. It was USIA’s misfortune, Cull writes, that at a time when USIA needed its political leadership to be at its strongest, it was instead at its weakest. Second, trying to capture the scope and scale of the programmatic activities of an Agency with missions spread over scores of countries and cultures around the world, each headed by different leaders with varied interests and talents, would only have served to bog the book down in needless detail. That said, Cull tries to balance tales of bureaucratic skirmishing among the leadership in Washington with selected descriptions of how USIA worked abroad in support of various high-profile policy initiatives (promoting democracy in the former republics of the Soviet Union, explaining U.S. actions in the first Gulf War, mobilizing public opinion in support of American policies in Haiti, the Balkans, Iraq, and other hot spots).  To capture this part of Agency life, he highlights to good effect the work and careers of a number of individual USIA field officers. Framing Cull’s description of the last decade of the Agency’s life is the concept of the journey, of which he identifies four:  the Road to 1999, which traces the path to consolidation; the Road from 1953, which examines how well USIA fulfilled Cull’s five elements of PD – Listening, Advocacy, Cultural Programming, Exchanges, and Broadcasting (with broadcasting faring best, and cultural diplomacy the worst); the Road from 1989, which assesses how the Agency met the demands of the “New PD” (surprisingly well, Cull finds); and the Road to 9/11, where the author looks at how USIA’s story may inform discussion of the possible causes of the 9/11 tragedy (Cull concludes that “USIA could not have averted 9/11, but the agency could have helped on 9/12”). Discussion of these “journeys“ appears largely in the prologue and conclusion, and it is in these two chapters that the author’s passion for his topic most clearly emerges, and where his analysis of what USIA’s fate reveals about a broader American attitude and approach to PD is at its sharpest. Cull attributes the Agency’s demise to a number of factors – its inability to define itself as other than a relic of the Cold War; weakness at the top; the lack of an adequate domestic constituency; and an underestimation of the skill set necessary to be an effective PD practitioner. (To these, I would add USIA’s failure to establish a professional evaluation regime capable of demonstrating PD’s effectiveness in supporting U.S. national interests, and chronic under-funding, the latter no doubt partly a result of the former). The key factor, however, according to Cull, can be found in American political culture itself, a culture that feared government communication efforts, especially in peacetime, and favored the pre-eminent role of the private sector in the information and cultural realm. Given this mindset, USIA always seemed to be an easy mark for budget cutters and ideologues of all stripes, more honored in word than deed. One indicator of the Agency’s tenuous position within the American political fabric and of doubts about PD in general lies in the sheer volume of commissions, committees, study groups, and blue ribbon panels set up to review and improve it, a phenomenon that continues to this day. Has any function of the U.S. government ever been so regularly and intensively studied over the last 50 years as public diplomacy?    In Cull’s discussion of the “tragedy” of American PD, that is, what was lost as a result of the Agency’s decline and abolition, he is careful to separate form from content, recognizing that, ultimately, the question is not whether there should be a United States Information Agency (in fact, on that point, Cull is agnostic but suggests that, if a separate agency were to be re-created, the cultural function should be privatized), but whether the American polity will come to recognize the contribution that public diplomacy can make to U.S. foreign policy and to strengthening America’s image around the world and support it accordingly. USIA may not have been the perfect instrument, he says, but the heedless and short-sighted way in which it was gutted, then abolished and absorbed into the State Department (with its component parts scattered throughout different Bureaus and the Under Secretary left with no direct line authority over many of its personnel) did significant long-term damage to the “function” of U.S. public diplomacy. As for that keen eye for irony, Cull highlights a number of telling incongruities in USIA’s story: an organization whose raison d’etre was mobilizing public opinion failing to do so in its own defense when its very existence was at stake; a President, under whose administration the budget for cultural programs fell by more than a third, hosting a major conference on cultural diplomacy at the very end of his term in November, 2000, at which he extolled the value of mutuality and listening; an Agency tasked with promoting women’s rights abroad being successfully sued at home for gender discrimination; and to these I might add the spouse of the President under whose administration public diplomacy was shattered is now being charged, as Secretary of State, with putting it back together again.  The Decline and Fall of the United States Information Agency: American Public Diplomacy, 1989-2001 Palgrave MacMillian ISBN: 0230340725 276 pages 2012-12-17T20:17:52+00:00 #When:17:43:18Z In his 2005 book about Bashar al-Assad, The New Lion of Damascus, Trinity University professor David W. Lesch gave the young ruler of Syria the benefit of the doubt, engaging in what Lesch today admits was wishful thinking. He had hoped that Bashar would not follow in the bloody footsteps of his father, Hafiz, but rather would begin the reforms Syria so badly needed. Of course, it didn’t happen. In his insightful, valuable new book, Syria: The Fall of the House of Assad, Lesch describes the “excruciatingly sad picture” of Syria today, and his judgment of Bashar is devoid of hope. He reports that over the years since succeeding his father in 2000, Bashar “has developed a tremendously heightened sense of his own self-importance and believes in the delusions fostered by Syrian authoritarianism.” Lesch’s account of Syria’s decline is based on firsthand knowledge of the country and its ruler to a degree rare among Westerners. Over the years, he interviewed Bashar many times and developed a feel for the country. With objectivity tinged with sadness, Lesch chronicles the rapid political demise of Syria. As recently as late 2008, hope existed for a rapprochement between Syria and the United States. As late as December 2010, major U.S. newspapers were extolling Syria as a tourist destination. A year later, the world was calling for an end to “Bashar al-Assad’s killing machine.” When pro-democracy protests spread to Syria, the government took the path not followed by the rulers and armies of Arab states such as Tunisia and Egypt. It jailed and tortured schoolchildren who painted anti-regime graffiti on walls in the city of Deraa, and its army fired on civilian demonstrators. With peaceful protests impossible, Syria moved into the civil war that rages today. One aspect of Lesch’s book that makes it so important is his evaluation of Syria’s place in global geopolitics. Syria is allied in what Lesch calls the “axis of resistance,” along with Iran, Hezbollah and Hamas. Perhaps more significant are Syria’s ties to major powers: It buys arms from and provides a naval base to Russia; China is Syria’s third-largest importer; and it served as Turkey’s gateway into the Arab world. Russia and China continue to bolster Bashar, but Turkey has been trying to get rid of him. As Lesch points out, Bashar has been careful not to push his major-power friends too far. “The regime,” writes Lesch, “has engaged in a Machiavellian calibration of bloodletting — enough to do the job, but not enough to lose what international support remained.” All that is known about Syria’s immediate future is that it is certain to be tragic. The economy is in ruins, a river of refugees flows into neighboring countries, and no one seems to know what a successor regime might be like. The U.S. audience, never much for international news, seems to have a case of acute Arab fatigue. But this region, particularly because it sits on so much oil, cannot be ignored, and for the world to turn away from the human suffering that now pervades Syria would be grossly immoral. Understanding Syria is important, and David Lesch’s book is invaluable for those who want to do so. Syria: The Fall of the House of Assad Originally published in The Dallas Morning News on September 28, 2012. To read the original article, click here. Yale University Press ISBN: 0300186517 288 pages 2012-09-18T17:43:18+00:00 #When:19:44:51Z American efforts to counter the threat of terrorism have spawned their own literary genre. Some of the books are little more than partisan tirades, some give credence to far-fetched conspiracy theories, but others are solidly researched and impart important lessons about fighting evil without demolishing essential national values. 500 Days belongs in this latter category. Former New York Times reporter Kurt Eichenwald (a Dallas resident) has combined thorough reporting and crisp writing in this history of the period between the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001 and the invasion of Iraq in March 2003. Eichenwald’s chronology moves at the pace of a movie-ready thriller. So much was happening: the CIA-led war against the Taliban in Afghanistan; the Bush administration’s pursuit of regime change in Iraq; the efforts to prevent further terrorist attacks; and the decisions about how to treat suspected al-Qaeda members. All complex stories in themselves, and all spun in numerous ways. Eichenwald notes, “I was surprised by how often the accepted version of events proved to be inaccurate.” Several principal themes run through this book, including the tensions between the U.S. and Britain as the British tried to slow the American march toward war. Tony Blair suggested building a broad coalition to address terrorism and insisted on United Nations authorization to proceed against Iraq but made little headway with the hubristic Bush administration, particularly Vice President Dick Cheney. Eichenwald devotes even more attention to the debate about defining and authorizing torture to extract information about al-Qaeda. Based on often sloppy investigations, suspects were locked up in Guantánamo or turned over to countries such as Syria that did not concern themselves with the niceties of humane interrogation techniques. Eichenwald’s detailed accounts of the ineptitude of some U.S. government lawyers and the willingness of others to give the Executive Branch unchecked power make for frightening reading. Of one analysis written by a Pentagon attorney, Eichenwald writes, “In a mere six and a half pages, [she] had single-handedly managed to annul several hundred years of jurisprudence.” Meanwhile, others at the Pentagon complained that the Department of Justice had sanctioned interrogation techniques that appeared “to violate international law, domestic law, or both.” One internal Guantánamo memo, which described waterboarding and hiding abuse from the Red Cross, concluded, “If the detainee dies, you’re doing it wrong.” This led to a comment by one horrified lawyer on the scene, “Someone needs to be considering how history will look back at this.” Throughout 500 Days, Eichenwald illustrates that political and military strategies cannot be stripped of their moral implications. It should also be noted however, that the relatively easy movement of weapons of mass destruction must be taken seriously, and countries must learn to deal with existential threats without undermining freedom. The era of terrorism is far from over, and these issues deserve much more thoughtful attention than they have so far received. Books such as 500 Days will prove valuable in this process. 500 Days: Secrets and Lies in the Terror Wars Originally published in the Dallas Morning News on September 16, 2012 ‘500 Days: Secrets and Lies in the Terror Wars’ by Kurt Eichenwald is solidly researched Touchstone Press ISBN: 1451669380 640 pages 2012-09-16T19:44:51+00:00 #When:20:00:14Z Particularly for practitioners of public diplomacy, understanding the role of religious faith in people’s lives is an essential part of crafting outreach efforts. In much of the world, secularism is viewed warily, seen as weakening the fabric of society, and so a respectful approach to religion is an essential element of diplomacy. Religion is not “mere sociology,” as the CIA reportedly referred to it prior to the 1979 Iranian revolution. Rather, it must be taken seriously as a foundation stone of international relations. In Religion and Foreign Affairs, editors Dennis R. Hoover and Douglas M. Johnston do a superb job of pulling together many centuries’ worth of literature about this field.  From Thucydides and Augustine up through contemporary writers on the topic such as Thomas Farr and Madeleine Albright, the array of authors and topics makes this an indispensable volume for anyone interested in this field. Among the topics addressed are these: • The ethics of force.  Religious belief does not rule out the use of “hard power,” but such belief does help set standards for justifying and governing use of force. • Religion and conflict.  Religion’s role in stimulating or deterring conflict is seen very differently by writers such as Samuel Huntington and Brian Grim. • Peacemaking.  Religion can strengthen trust among different sides in a peace process. • Religion, democracy, and the state.  Dynamic tension between religious and democratic institutions varies in intensity, depending on the flexibility of the religion and the strength of the institutions involved. • Globalization, economic development, human rights and other critical issues all are significantly affected by religion. These issues must be addressed by any nation with a credible foreign policy, but the United States has long had particular difficulty in grappling with them.  The separation of church and state is a keystone of domestic political life in the United States, but that principle has also affected U.S. foreign policy.  This is unnecessary and unfortunate; it weakens American diplomacy in a world that is moving away from secularization. This is one of the issues treated with sophisticated comprehensiveness in Religion and Foreign Affairs.  This volume an essential handbook for diplomats and anyone else who wants to gain a better understanding of the role of religion in international political life. Religion and Foreign Affairs Baylor University Press ISBN: 1602582424 635 pages 2012-07-25T20:00:14+00:00 #When:17:54:05Z In The Rhetoric of Soft Power: Public Diplomacy in Global Contexts, Craig Hayden, assistant professor of international communication at American University, presents a well-researched discussion of soft power and its application in the name of public diplomacy. Framed in the context of both theoretical and practical thinking about soft power, the book offers four case studies to explore some of the soft power themes articulated in the introductory chapters. Hayden sets clear boundaries for the book, noting it is not intended to evaluate public diplomacy outcomes; rather, the goal is to “develop a theoretical treatment [of] soft power and public diplomacy through an interdisciplinary investigation” (p. 3) using interpretative and observational methods. Writing about the investigatory process, Hayden explains that he employs textual analysis designed to illustrate the contexts of soft power and its manifestations in public diplomacy. The interdisciplinary nature of public diplomacy is clear throughout the book. On this point Hayden notes “ever increasingly, the business of soft power links the resources of communication with the imperatives of politics” (p. 4). The three research questions at the book’s core explore these connections between international politics and communication theory at different levels: First is the question of how policy intentions are expressed through public diplomacy and strategic communication. Second is the question of how countries’ intentions and behaviors are received in the international system. The final question concerns what different nations’ public diplomacy practices reveal about their assumptions surrounding communication’s influence in the international system. The answer Hayden offers is that soft power - both its promotion and its exercise - can serve as the justification for many examples of state behavior. The academic study of public diplomacy is notoriously thin on theory (Entman, 2008; Gilboa, 2008) and in his introductory chapters Hayden states his intention to help fill that void. In fact, the book is presented as an exercise in the development of observation-based theory building. This is a legitimate way to tackle a complicated subject, but the approach positions the book for some of the same criticisms often leveled at public diplomacy evaluative efforts (Banks, 2011; Bayles, 2005; Melissen, 2005; Pahlavi, 2007), chiefly that the presentation of case studies does not guarantee increased theoretical awareness. The result, in this case, is a thoughtful discussion of soft power and an impressive collection of well-researched case studies, but few universally applicable theoretical insights. One of the frustrations associated with public diplomacy literature is the vagueness of terms. The Rhetoric of Soft Power, for example, employs a broad definition of soft power. That is not unjustifiable given the body of literature from which the discussion is derived. The difficulty, however, is that almost anything other than projection of military might can be grouped into a catch-all category dedicated to promoting or exploiting soft power. That there is confusion in definition and usage of terms is not Hayden’s fault. Indeed, consistent vagueness may be at the core of the public diplomacy literature’s difficulty with theory development. Theory is intended to explain and predict the world, but it first requires established concepts. Social science methodology teaches that the most important task for concepts is “provid[ing] the tools for communication” within a field (Nachmias & Nachmias, 2002, p. 24) and that only after establishment and acceptance of concepts can researchers “focus on some aspect of reality by defining its components and then by attempting to discover whether that aspect is shared by different phenomena ” (Nachmias & Nachmias, 2002, p. 25). In other words, it is only after a field’s agreement on concepts that it becomes possible to develop theory at all. With understandings of soft power and public diplomacy still unsettled, it is no surprise that workable theory has yet to emerge. With respect to the case studies in The Rhetoric of Soft Power, Hayden bases his analysis of countries and their views of soft power on three components: scope, mechanism and outcome (p. 59). This is similar to what Gilboa (2008), Gregory (20011), and others have promoted in their categorization of public diplomacy programs, intentions and time frames for outcomes. Although Hayden addresses the request for comparative studies, he has not organized them around a single template to help facilitate theory-building observations. The result is an interesting interpretation of soft power, public diplomacy and its implications for each country, but not theoretical insights. Another opportunity for organizing the case studies presents itself in the three principal behaviors Hayden associates with public diplomacy and soft power early in the book. He identifies the principal behaviors as agenda-setting/framing, persuasion and attraction. Had he focused discussion in each case study around these three behaviors it might have allowed for a more consistent presentation of the information and thus more opportunities for generalization among cases. That each of those behaviors could also be associated with theoretical concepts in the literature of mass communication and international politics represents a further missed opportunity for multidisciplinary theory building. To be sure, the case studies make useful contributions on their own. They reflect careful analysis of each country and the broader context within which each seeks and exercises soft power. Important points emerge about each country’s motivation for engaging in the soft power game: in the case of Japan, since it lacks natural resources, it relies on soft power to maintain influence in the international system. For China, it dedicates its soft power quest to reassuring the world that its rise will be peaceful. Venezuela seeks to provide a counter narrative to American influence in the region and in the global South. Meanwhile, the United States wants to exploit modern communication technologies to achieve wide-ranging foreign policy goals. Although the case studies are information-rich, they raise familiar concerns regarding the frustrations of generalizing about this subject matter. The irony is that discussion of public diplomacy - even that here intended to fill gaps in theoretical understanding - still falls victim to the pitfalls of lack of established language for addressing the subject. No matter how valuable the various insights provided in each case study, those insights are not synthesized at the end of each chapter or at the book’s conclusion. And that is perhaps the book’s greatest weakness: The scope of research and the value of the findings are undermined by the lack of a single unifying thread to tie all the pieces together. Hayden does not offer a new paradigm for thinking about soft power and public diplomacy, but he does provide a detailed landscape of the current paradigm in all of its still-undefined glory. While the work does not represent a Kuhnsian paradigmatic shift (Kuhn, 1996), it does revisit territory that may previously have been assumed to be settled and in doing so ensures its place in continuing debates about public diplomacy theory and outcomes. Hayden concludes that “soft power is inevitably a construction of a particular context” (p. 287). That is an important insight and, indeed, perhaps the book’s most valuable contribution. But this conclusion raises concerns about whether it will ever be possible to theorize meaningfully about soft power and its utility in the international system. It suggests not only that the term “soft power” is fungible, but that the conceptualizations and applications of it are, too. Such a conclusion does not better our understanding about the role of soft power in international politics. Instead it confirms soft power’s reputation as a moving target for both scholarly research and practical understanding. In a well-meaning and well-documented effort to standardize understanding of soft power concepts underlying the practice of public diplomacy, Hayden may have opened a Pandora’s box, loosing the rhetorical demons that have long plagued discussions about power in all its manifestations - both hard and soft. If soft power can indeed be all things non-military to all international actors, then it may ultimately prove easier to talk about soft power by detailing what it is not. And that does not deepen our theoretical understanding of the subject. A similar problem plagues attempts to define public diplomacy. If public diplomacy is the term to describe nations’ policies intended to communicate with foreign publics by sidestepping formal, traditional diplomatic tactics, then that would qualify any foreign state action, behavior or statement of which another country’s public becomes aware as public diplomacy. Such an over-broad definition does not help distinguish the concept from other terms often used in the same context. Many scholars, including Hayden, imply there is a difference between public diplomacy, strategic communication, nation branding and even propaganda, but do not offer an explanation of what those differences might be. The Rhetoric of Soft Power: Public Diplomacy in Global Contexts Lexington Books ISBN: 978-0739142585 308 pages References Bayles, M. (2005). Goodwill hunting, Wilson Quarterly, 29(3): 46-56. Banks, R. (2011). A resource guide to public diplomacy evaluation.  CPD Perspectives on Public Diplomacy. Entman, R.M. (2008). Theorizing mediated public diplomacy: The U.S. case. International Journal of Press/Politics 13(2): 87-102. Gilboa, E. (2008). Searching for a theory of public diplomacy in P. Kaniss, ed. The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science.  Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage, p. 55-77. Gregory, B. (2011). American public diplomacy: Enduring characteristics, elusive transformation. Hague Journal of Diplomacy, 6(3-4): 351-372. Kuhn, T.S. (1996). The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Melissen, J (2005). Wielding soft power: The new public diplomacy in Clingendael Diplomacy Papers No. 2 (Netherlands Institute for International Relations), 1-30. Nachmias, C.F. & Nachmias, D. (2000). Research Methods in the Social Sciences. New York: Worth Publishers. Pahlavi, PC (2007). Evaluating public diplomacy programs. Hague Journal of Diplomacy, 3: 255-281. CPD Perspectives on Public Diplomacy. Entman, R.M. (2008). Theorizing mediated public diplomacy: The U.S. case. International Journal of Press/Politics 13(2): 87-102. Gilboa, E. (2008). Searching for a theory of public diplomacy in P. Kaniss, ed. The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science.  Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage, p. 55-77. Gregory, B. (2011). American public diplomacy: Enduring characteristics, elusive transformation. Hague Journal of Diplomacy, 6(3-4): 351-372. Kuhn, T.S. (1996). The Structure of Scientific Revolutions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Melissen, J (2005). Wielding soft power: The new public diplomacy in Clingendael Diplomacy Papers No. 2 (Netherlands Institute for International Relations), 1-30. Nachmias, C.F. & Nachmias, D. (2000). Research Methods in the Social Sciences. New York: Worth Publishers. Pahlavi, PC (2007). Evaluating public diplomacy programs. Hague Journal of Diplomacy, 3: 255-281.]]> 2012-03-07T17:54:05+00:00 #When:17:37:11Z For its relatively short history and small land area, Singapore’s range of nation branding efforts is ambitious, concerted and seemingly ceaseless. Its desire to establish and seal its reputation as a leading global city has translated into strategic public diplomacy initiatives that span and encompass practically every sector of its economy and society. This intensive repertoire of public diplomacy is captured in Koh Buck Song’s latest book, Brand Singapore: How Nation Branding Built Asia’s Leading Global City. Before delving into Singapore’s nation branding, Koh gives an overview to the subject which the uninitiated will find useful. He defines branding as the aggregation of conscious and deliberate actions undertaken to influence perceptions and generate awareness, with nation brands typically incorporating public diplomacy into branding strategies. Aptly, he calls nation branding “the lifeblood of any nation”, because it has the capacity to boost the economy, attract talent and improve the quality of life. Nations that can brand themselves well, he concludes, gain an added comparative advantage which can make up for shortcomings, which in Singapore’s case is its small size. State-led efforts make up the bulk of Singapore’s nation branding, so Koh devotes the first section of the book to an examination of this key aspect. Singapore’s nation branding mainly began when it achieved self-governance in 1959, when it faced primary challenges that included a lack of natural resources, political instability, and unskilled workforce. The Economic Development Board was thus established to attract foreign investment and Koh carefully chronicles the evolution of Singapore’s nation brand through the plethora of public diplomacy responses to these limitations. By charting Singapore’s numerous reinventions over the years, he shows how the attention to branding lavished by the state was geared towards boosting its gross domestic product, as is nearly every public policy decision in the island nation. This is where he offers up a mindboggling array of initiatives that range from tourism campaigns, to the hosting of major international events like the Formula One Grand Prix, to the export of expertise to countries like China, and the recent opening of two integrated resorts. He analyzes successful brand positionings like the “Garden City” identity, where the clean and beautiful urban landscape was a metaphor for its spotless reputation and highly regulated economic environment, to entice potential investors. Furthermore, in his exploration of Singapore’s various paradigm shifts, he shows how the transition to the “City in a Garden” concept redefines the idea of an urban landscape in a natural setting while aligning with the global trend of growing environmental consciousness.  For a country that depends on citizens as a key resource, Singapore surprisingly comes up short in promoting its homegrown enterprises. This is typically overlooked in favor of positioning Singapore as an attractive location for multinational companies and foreign investors. Using Singapore Airlines as a successful model, Koh shows how its cohesive brand identity contributed to its continued success, evidenced by its multiple accolades that have consistently placed it among the world’s best airlines. This is in contrast to other thriving local brands that Koh opines have not highlighted their Singaporean roots as compellingly. The onslaught of globalization may even dilute the Singaporean element in homegrown businesses, especially with foreign ownership or migration of labor. More attention to internal, rather than external branding is thus one major area that Koh suggests needs more work. Another important issue the book addresses is Singapore’s efforts to boost its soft power. Known more for its hard power, the republic is now trying to change perceptions with the “Renaissance City Plan”, a national initiative dedicated to creating a world-class cultural and entertainment district. No longer a “cultural desert”, arts and cultural events are now in abundance, matched by the requisite infrastructure development to support this industry. Likewise, Koh also examines Singapore’s cultural capital and its lack of global influence and audience. He argues that local cultural products like films and literature have the capacity to deliver insight into a country’s way of life, clarify misconceptions, and ultimately propel its soft power in the international arena. With little often heard about Singapore-made cultural output, Koh’s enlightening account in this area truly expands our notions of Singapore beyond the strict regulations, stable environment and economic prowess that it is most known for.    Finally, Koh studies the power and persistence of old stereotypes, or “brand keloids” as he terms them. For Singapore, it is that unpleasant “nanny state” image that has been circulated countless times in the international media, an expression that embodies the pervasive reach and involvement of the state in daily life, its stringent laws and lack of openness. While there has been some loosening up over the years, there hasn’t been a corresponding mindset shift globally, which underscores the deeply entrenched nature of branding’s negative effects with which Singapore must grapple. In considering the future of Singapore’s nation brand and the multiple reinventions it has undergone, Koh articulates a critical nation branding challenge for the state – that is, the people themselves and how they perceive their role as internal brand ambassadors. As the country re-envisions its nation branding with its latest slogan, “The Spirit of Singapore,” he emphasizes the truism that, in order for global perceptions of a country’s image to change, reality first has to change. Therefore, the words and actions of the government have to correspond, to form the basis of a successful nation branding campaign. Brand Singapore is a comprehensive and well-researched compilation of Singapore’s nation branding efforts – covering both prominent case studies and shedding light on lesser known ones, while giving readers insight into the mechanisms and multifaceted nature of Singapore’s nation branding. While the book goes more for breadth than depth in its sheer number of examples, it is nonetheless a valuable and accessible introduction to the Singapore brand.  Brand Singapore: How Nation Branding Built Asia’s Leading Global City Marshall Cavendish Editions ISBN: 978 981 4328 15 9 256 pages 2011-04-20T17:37:11+00:00 #When:21:00:55Z Let’s begin with a quiz. What and where is Gwadar? Few people can answer that today, but some in the know believe that within 20 years, it will become the next Dubai. For many years, Gwadar had been just another South Asian fishing village. It sits on a hammer-shaped peninsula jutting from southwest Pakistan into the Indian Ocean at one of the world’s most strategic spots. The Chinese have built a deepwater port there, ready for jumbo oil tankers and cargo ships. Plans for resort hotels have been drawn up. Gwadar, writes Robert Kaplan, is “a place of wonders, slipping through an hourglass.” Few books can be considered indispensable, but Monsoon is one of them. Journalist Kaplan is one of the world’s foremost analysts of geopolitical change (and the conflicts that often result). His thesis in this volume is, “Europe defined the 20th century; the Indian Ocean will define the 21st.” The case he presents is compelling, and anyone contemplating the future of global power relationships needs to understand how and why these changes are occurring. Kaplan offers some basic facts: Countries surrounding the Indian Ocean account for a third of the world’s population, and this rimland generates 70 percent of the traffic of petroleum products for the entire world. The potential for vast economic development exists. But nothing is certain. Concerning Gwadar, governance is a relative term in Pakistan, and the port’s potential might fizzle in a mess of incompetence and corruption. Furthermore, the climb to prosperity will be steep. In one of the region’s principal cities, Kolkata (formerly Calcutta), India, the impoverishment of millions is always on view. As Kaplan notes, “Poverty is not exotic, it has no saving graces, it is just awful.” Dominating the region’s future is competition between India and China. Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh characterizes this and other regional relationships as “mutual dependencies for mutual benefit.” If all this remains peaceful, fine, but religious tensions smolder within the region, and both India and China are building up their navies, something the United States watches warily. For U.S. military planners, priorities are changing enormously. The American “two-ocean navy” has long patrolled the Pacific and Atlantic. Now, the two oceans of concern are the Pacific and the Indian. So far, rivalries have been mainly economic and political, and the game is played according to local rules. China hungrily eyes Burma’s resources and makes deals to get them. As Kaplan points out, “China is not like the United States, whose leaders, both Democrat and Republican, seek the moral improvement of the world as a basis of foreign policy.” China has also constructed another major port in Hambantota, Sri Lanka, which, like Gwadar, is little-known but strategically located. This venture, with an oil refinery and flow-through facilities for Chinese goods, Kaplan writes, is “emblematic of China’s budding yet exquisitely elusive empire, built on soft power.” Places that were once merely exotic are now important. Asian and African countries on the Indian Ocean are entering the next stages of their histories and are reshaping how the world works. In Monsoon, Kaplan vividly describes this transformation and provides an essential primer for this new century’s evolving politics. This book review was originally published in The Dallas Morning News. Monsoon: The Indian Ocean and the Future of American Power Robert Kaplan Random House, October 2010 ISBN-10: 1400067464 ISBN-13: 978-1400067466 384 pages 2010-11-02T21:00:55+00:00 #When:04:03:08Z The United States and Public Diplomacy is the fifth in a multi-volume series published by Clingendael under the masthead, “Diplomatic Studies”.  The present volume is a collection of twelve original essays on the history of public diplomacy.  The book should be of interest to scholars of public diplomacy and U.S. history.  It provides novel perspectives on historical events, focusing attention on aspects of the field that have received insufficient study to date.  It also endeavors to provide practical insights, suggesting contemporary applications for lessons learned in the past.  Although this book may not hold much appeal beyond the community of scholars, practitioners, and public diplomacy enthusiasts, teachers of history and public diplomacy should pay particular attention to it.  The essays contained in this volume are appropriate for college and graduate-level course syllabi.  They are well written, prescient, and easily stand alone.  The title, The United States and Public Diplomacy: New Directions in Cultural and International History is a rather inelegant effort to describe the diverse set of monographs included in this volume. It is also a bit of a mind bender.  What is “Cultural and International History” and how can it go in “New Directions”?  It takes an advanced degree just to unpack what this means. Six of the essays examine past U.S. public diplomacy campaigns.  The other six focus on public diplomacy as practiced by foreign governments and non-state actors.  Several essays describe the role of film, art, and culture in public diplomacy.  Others focus on international informational campaigns.  And others suggest new directions for future research (for a full list of essays in this publication, see below).  Representing a cross-section of current public diplomacy research, this collection provides twelve interesting essays from across the field.  At least half of the essays explicitly involve public diplomacy in countries other than the United States (demonstrating another problem with the title The United States and Public Diplomacy.) The other half of the essays address under-explored parts of U.S. public diplomacy history including: the origins of U.S. public diplomacy in the period before the Cold War, U.S. public diplomacy campaigns targeting the developing world, and the historical use of film in U.S. public diplomacy. In their introduction to The United States and Public Diplomacy, editors Kenneth Osgood and Brian C. Etheridge complain that the “global conversation” about public diplomacy has, “focused inordinately on the United States,” (p.5) and has been, “taking place in something of a historical vacuum.” (p.6)  The essays in this volume redress these shortcomings. The book opens with Jessica C.E. Gienow-Hecht’s essay, on “Cultural Diplomacy and Civil Society since 1850”. Gienow-Hecht urges public diplomacy scholars to expand their historical scope beyond the Cold War. Gienow-Hecht suggests that the early 20th century bears greater similarity to the present era.  Around the turn of the century, European cultural diplomacy was the province of professional groups, non-governmental organizations, and, occasionally, partnerships between these groups and the State.  These arrangements were beneficial to the State.  They required less capital outlay, less commitment of bureaucratic resources, and left planning in the more experienced hands of producers and distributors.  Distance from the State allowed a greater range of artistic license and risk-taking.  This model was not without its attendant risks.  Corporations and civil society groups did not always share the State’s view of the national interest, and sometimes acted at cross purposes to the State’s diplomatic goals.  As Gienow-Hecht reflects on the current state of the field she sees many similarities. U.S. policymakers are unwittingly re-creating cultural diplomacy along lines drawn by Europeans at the turn of the century at a time when America was a net consumer, rather than a net producer of cultural diplomacy products.  Current U.S. cultural diplomacy efforts are likely to face the same challenges as their historical analogues. As a candidate for the U.S. Presidency, Barack Obama articulated a vision for American cultural diplomacy based on public-private partnerships.  Now, as President Obama and his staff work to implement this vision, they should bear in mind the historical examples that predate both institutional memory and recent scholarship on Cold War cultural diplomacy. Gienow-Hecht’s article exemplifies both the strengths and the weaknesses of the volume.  All of the essays are excellent.  The quality of research and writing is consistently impressive but there is one systematic weakness: conclusions appear to have been stitched onto some of the articles, in order to prove their relevance to the overall work.  The essay by Gienow-Hecht was among the more egregious in this regard.  Her mention of the Obama administration seems to be a bit of an after-thought.  No doubt, it satisfied the requests of the editors, but it is somewhat jarring for the reader. Nevertheless, this weakness detracts little from the quality of the book.  The United States and Public Diplomacy showcases fascinating new research into the history of public diplomacy.  Each essay adds a fresh perspective to the narrative with impressive research and writing throughout. Collectively, they represent a significant contribution to the emerging literature on public diplomacy.  Contents of Kenneth A. Osgood and Brian C. Etheridge, eds., The United States and Public Diplomacy: New Directions in Cultural and International History, (Martinus Nijhoff Publishers, 2010): Kenneth Osgood (University of California, Santa Barbara) and Brian C. Etheridge (Ohio State University), “Introduction. The New International History Meets the New Cultural History: Public Diplomacy and U.S. Foreign Relations” Jessica C.E. Gienow-Hect (University of Cologne), “The Anomaly of the Cold War: Cultural Diplomacy and Civil Society Since 1850” David Snyder (University of South Carolina), “The Problem of Power in Modern Public Diplomacy: The Netherlands Information Bureau in World War II and the Early Cold War” John Day Tully (Central Connecticut State University), “Ethnicity, Security, and Public Diplomacy: Irish-Americans and Ireland’s Neutrality in World War II” Neal M. Rosendorf (University of Southern California), “Hollywood, Tourism, and Dictatorship: Samuel Bronston’s Special Relationship with the Franco Regime” Seth Center (Historical Office, U.S. Department of State), “Supranational Public Diplomacy: The Evolution of the UN Department of Public Information and the Rise of Third World Advocacy” Hector Perla, Jr. (University of California, Santa Cruz), “Transnational Public Diplomacy: Assessing Salvadoran Revolutionary Efforts to Build U.S. Public Opposition to Reagan’s Central America Policy” Justin Hart (Texas Tech University), “Foreign Relations as Domestic Affairs: The Role of the ‘Public’ in the Origins of U.S. Public Diplomacy” Jason C. Parker (Texas A&M University), “Crisis Management and Missed Opportunities: U.S. Public Diplomacy and the Creation of the Third World” Nicholas J. Cull (University of Southern California), “Film as Public Diplomacy: The USIA’s Cold War at Twenty-Four Frames Per Second” Helge Danielson (Norwegian Institute for Defense Studies), “Mediating Public Diplomacy: Local Conditions and U.S. Public Diplomacy in Norway in the 1950s” Michael L. Krenn (Appalachian State University), “Domestic Politics and Public Diplomacy: Appalachian Cultural Exhibits and the Changing Nature of U.S. Public Diplomacy, 1964-1972” Giles Scott-Smith (Leiden University), “Networks of Influence: U.S. Exchange Programs and Western Europe in the 1980s” The United States and Public Diplomacy: New Directions in Cultural and International History Kenneth A. Osgood and Brian C. Etheridge, eds. Martinus Nijhoff Publishers, 2010 ISBN-13: 978 90 04 17691 1 ISBN-10: 90 04 17691 8 380 pages 2010-06-02T04:03:08+00:00 #When:22:37:20Z Is there a public diplomacy remedy for betrayal?  Kishore Mahbubani’s Beyond the Age of Innocence: Rebuilding Trust Between America and the World attempts, with honesty, eloquence and heart, to answer this question.  Published in 2005, when anti-American sentiment was, according to many polls, increasing rapidly, Mahbubani’s analysis of America’s impact on the world, is an invaluable read for global leaders and the general public alike.  For those still asking, “why do ‘they’ hate us?” this book offers a perspective from the proverbial ‘they’.  As earlier reviews have stated, Mahubani’s book is elegantly and courageously written.  It is balanced in its portrayal of both America as a country and Americans as a people.  The author takes great pains to illustrate the nuances of the rest of the world’s view of Americans as a generous, albeit non-worldly society and the actions of America, the superpower.  He guides the reader through the psychological impact of an American foreign policy that can encompass both instant friendship and abrupt abandonment.  The image that emerges is one of a super power making its decisions from an insular, isolationist and reactive psyche, not as the leader of the free world fully conscious of its perceived values and opportunities to drive much of the world’s dreams. Mahbubani devotes much of the book to the United States’ evolving (and in many cases, devolving) relationship with Islamic nations and the religion itself as it applies to the current global fight against terrorism. Using the United States’ relationship with Pakistan as one example, Mahbubani highlights America’s wooing of Pakistan as a strategically important ally during the Cold War, when the Soviet Union and the United States were carving up the map of the world into West and East camps.  America’s friendship with Pakistan was seen by the U.S. through the prism of its loss of India as an ally to Russia.  After the Cold War, the United States often vacillated between canceling its foreign aid to Pakistan, or severely curtailing the amount.  This caused Pakistanis—even until today—to see America as a fair-weather friend that makes its decisions based solely on national interest with no concern for the freedom of the Pakistani people.  Moreover, Mahbubani also points out that while the U.S. consistently purports to value human rights and trumpets its support for democracy and liberty worldwide, a different reality emerges when its national interest is the motivating factor.  Thus, for the people of Pakistan, the U.S. conveniently ignores its most cherished values to deal with any military despot, dictator and human rights abuser in favor of advancing its strategic interests.  Pakistan is left with the feeling of betrayal by the world’s superpower. In 2005, when Beyond the Age of Innocence was first published, the United States was, in my mind, akin to a deer caught in the headlights not fully comprehending the anti-American backlash spreading around the world.  This was evident, according to Mahbubani, in America’s closely held self-image: that of a country loath to be perceived as just another cynical nation acting solely out of national interest, even though it wants the freedom to do just that.  America—and even more-so, Americans—wants to be viewed as consistent in its values and actions.  Indeed, much of our public diplomacy attempts to convey our values to the rest of the world. But if America has demonstrated, as Mahbubani contends, that it is an unreliable ally, where does this leave America’s public diplomacy? Especially since renewed efforts are underway to court the Pakistani people to be our allies in the fight against terrorism.  How does America re-establish trust with a country that feels alternately seduced and abandoned?  If successful public diplomacy is walking your talk, what does America have to do to reassure Pakistan of its long-term sincerity?  It is my hope that policy-makers read Beyond the Age of Innocence as both a historical analysis and as a cautionary tale to answer these questions and to aid in crafting U.S. foreign policy, toward Pakistan and other countries.  Quite simply, it is essential reading, not just for Americans, but for all who seek to build a better world based upon consistency in both words and deeds. BEYOND THE AGE OF INNOCENCE: REBUILDING TRUST BETWEEN AMERICA AND THE WORLD Kishore Mahbubani Perseus Books Group, March 2005 IBSN: 978-1586482688 9.3 x 5.9 x 1.2 inches, 320 pages 2010-04-29T22:37:20+00:00 #When:16:37:59Z Japan Foundation president Kazuo Ogoura has held high posts in his country’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs and has served as Japan’s ambassador to Vietnam, South Korea, and France.  His diplomatic experience infuses Japan’s Cultural Diplomacy with pragmatic recognition of the value and the limits of cultural diplomacy. This slim volume contains much important information about Japanese diplomacy and general diplomatic practices.  Ogoura defines cultural diplomacy as “the use of cultural means to enhance a nation’s political influence.”  He distinguishes this from public diplomacy, which he defines as having “a well-defined political objective” and being “aimed at certain pre-determined targets,” while cultural diplomacy has broader, less precise goals related to improving a nation’s image. Ogoura shows how Japan has carefully and persistently used cultural diplomacy throughout the years since World War II.  In the period immediately after the war, notes Ogoura, “when in engaging in cultural activities overseas, the Japanese government emphasized such traditions as the tea ceremony and ikebana (flower arrangement), with the intention that they would convey Japan’s serene, peace-loving nature to the rest of the world.”  At the same time, he adds, “the overseas promotion of certain elements of traditional Japanese culture, particularly those related to the samurai spirit or feudal traditions, was discouraged.” Also receiving emphasis were exchange programs designed to internationalize Japan’s outlook.  For a country that had long favored insularity, exchanges were seen, writes Ogoura, “as a means to promote Japanese understanding of foreign cultures.”  Today, he notes, a goal of Japanese cultural diplomacy is to “not only propagate Japanese thought and traditions to the world but also aim at introducing non-Japanese culture to Japan to enrich the cultural heritage of the world.”  Further, according to Ogoura, “Japan has begun to harness cultural exchange as a means of building peace.” Recently, Japan employed cultural soft power when its cooperation with the United States during the Iraq war created image problems in the Middle East.  Picture books for children, anime, and an invitation to Iraq’s national football team to come to Japan were among the measures employed. Also, globalization has led to what Ogoura calls “corporate de-Japanization,” with an increasing number of Japanese firms being headed by foreign presidents, and a tendency to reduce the perceived “Japaneseness” of Japan’s international business community.  Ogoura notes that this is a different course than that followed elsewhere in Asia: “While Japanese corporations are busy divesting themselves of their national identity, people in other Asian countries are becoming increasingly nationalistic and patriotic.” In the midst of the shifting politics of Asia, cultural diplomacy is becoming more important.  As has been seen during times of tensions between Japan, China, and South Korea, cultural exchanges, writes Ogoura, “acted as a kind of safety valve,” helping those tensions dissipate outside conventional political processes. Japan’s Cultural Diplomacy does an excellent job of showing how principles of public and cultural diplomacy are refined according to an individual country’s needs.  During the 65 years since the end of World War II, Japan’s diplomatic goals have steadily evolved and, as Kazuo Ogoura so ably illustrates, cultural diplomacy has been an essential element in reaching those goals. Japan’s Cultural Diplomacy Kazuo Ogoura The Japan Foundation, 2009 ISBN: 978-4-87540-107-0 82 pages 2010-04-22T16:37:59+00:00 #When:18:42:00Z The September 11, 2001 attacks stirred Americans to consider the possibility that the United States is not the center of the universe and that there might be, as R.S. Zaharna notes, a “connection between America’s image and its security.”  Doing something about this, said 9/11 Commission co-chair Lee Hamilton, is “how we stop them from coming here to kill us.” Fraught words, as were many post-9/11 declarations about America and the world.  Zaharna, a highly regarded public diplomacy scholar who teaches at American University, relies on a calmer approach in Battles to Bridges, her concise but wide-ranging appraisal of U.S. public diplomacy during the past decade. Her outlook is valuably broad, recognizing that public diplomacy “is a political and communication activity” and must “be strategically aligned to the political and communication dynamics of the international arena in order to be effective.”  When conventional insular American communication values are determinative in implementing U.S. public diplomacy, even the best-intentioned efforts go askew. Zaharna deals with this, as with other issues in the book, with resolute even-handedness.  She writes that post-9/11 public diplomacy efforts, such as Radio Sawa and Al Hurra television, were “extremely innovative, ambitious, and expansive,” and “reflected the best and the brightest of American communication professionals.”  But on the next page, she writes of these efforts that “rather than winning hearts and minds, the initiatives appeared to be doing the opposite.”  Underscoring this, she quotes Rami Khouri, editor of Lebanon’s Daily Star: “Where do they get this stuff from?  Why do they keep insulting us like this?” At the heart of this failure, writes Zaharna, was the tendency of U.S. foreign policy officials to value slickness above substance.  She notes that “U.S. officials appeared to focus on improving the presentation of their messages – but not the underlying relationships – between America and the people in the Arab and Islamic countries.” Public diplomacy raises expectations among those it reaches, but it cannot succeed unless it is in synch with policy.  Even remarkable public diplomacy moments, such as Barack Obama’s 2009 Cairo speech, evaporate quickly unless they are supported by meaningful policy initiatives. One of the most important sections of Zaharna’s book is her thorough discussion of network communication and its role in the jump from old to new public diplomacy.  Old public diplomacy focused on message content, while new public diplomacy emphasizes message exchange, which networks can facilitate.  Zaharna notes that the pervasiveness of networks today renders obsolete the Cold War-style, head-to-head “information battles.”  And yet, she writes, after 9/11 U.S. public diplomacy “resurrected and vigorously pursued an information battle strategy borrowed from the Cold War – without first assessing whether that grand strategy was still viable.” She also examines the transformative power of globalized communication, pointing out that “today, the notion of geographic segmented audiences has become problematic.”  In the world of borderless media, distinctions between domestic, regional, and international publics have drastically diminished.  That might seem obvious, but the continued existence of the Smith-Mundt Act is just one piece of evidence that there are still those who believe they can hold back the tide. Battles to Bridges also provides solid analysis of nation branding, the distinctions between propaganda and public diplomacy, the importance of ethics, and other topics that will prove valuable to experienced practitioners and scholars as well as to the public diplomacy novice.  With this thoughtful, accessible book, Zaharna makes an important contribution to the study and practice of public diplomacy. BATTLES TO BRIDGES: US Strategic Communication and Public Diplomacy after 9/11 Rhonda Zaharna Palgrave Macmillan, March 2010 IBSN: 0-230-20216-0 Size 5 1/2 x 8 1/4, 240 pages 2010-04-19T18:42:00+00:00 #When:19:44:01Z Despite the old injunction to ‘never judge a book by its cover’ one cannot really pick up a book without beginning to form an impression of what lies within.  Publishers hire designers for exactly this reason. On picking up Sally Totman’s book “How Hollywood Projects Foreign Policy,” this reader immediately felt a nagging sense of foreboding.  First there was the suspiciously open title.  Would the book examine foreign policy in general or specifically the foreign policy of the United States?  Would it focus on recent years or go back to the roots of the old alliance between the US government and the American film industry?  Would it look at all aspects of US foreign policy or focus narrowly on one aspect?  Then the author’s name was preceded with the word ‘by’ unusual for the cover of an academic monograph.  The illustration was a further red flag.  It shows dramatic incidents from recent Hollywood films dealing with the Middle East (George Clooney in “Syriana” is readily identifiable).  They are arranged in horizontal strips with sprockets running along the top and bottom edge.  Oddly this suggests images on still film, carried through the camera horizontally, rather than motion picture film which in camera and projector is carried vertically and hence has sprockets on either side.  One turns the book over and finds glowing endorsements of the work, but a brief comparison with the author bio finds these come from colleagues at Australia’s Deakin University—experts in international relations theory and Korean foreign policy respectively.  Handling the volume I had the sinking feeling that despite the Palgrave imprint I was slipping into vanity press territory.  I repressed these forebodings and plunged into the text.  Sadly, in this case my forebodings were correct. Totman’s book is really misnamed—a better title would have been: “Not Without My Stereotypes: Hollywood and US foreign policy towards rogue states from Jimmy Carter to George W. Bush.”  That is the boundary of this enquiry.  It is a worthy subject which cuts to the heart of the White House spin around the Global War on Terror and its antecedents.  Logically enough, Totman sets out to trace US foreign policy towards six rogue states—specifically Cuba, Libya, Iran, Iraq, Sudan and North Korea, and makes it clear that she is looking to tell a story of state private collusion and Hollywood’s role in the wider propaganda apparatus of the USA.  Her research fails to find any hard and fast connection.  With the possible exception of Libya most rogue states don’t seem to have been identified that often explicitly in Hollywood scripts and for every outrageous stereotyped piece of hate/scare mongery—like the anti-Iranian “Not Without My Daughter” (1991) there seems to be a thoughtful or well researched counter balance like “House of Sand and Fog” (2004).  It a surprise just how few films she is able to study, and how obscure they are.  Her anti-Cuban texts include the sea monster flick “Octopus” (2000), and her anti-Iraq movies include “Human Shield” (1991) and others which did little box office.  Among the few films she claims as a box office success is “Not Without My Daughter” but this made only $15 million in the year that Terminator II hit nearly $200 million in the US alone.  Her book was presumably completed too soon to include “300” (2007) a film which has quite rightly angered Iran more than any other in recent years and grossed over $450 million worldwide. The book is sloppily written.  Foot noting is sporadic with vast swathes of text describing the history of the rogue states and their relations with the US in sub-Wikipedia generalizations supported by only occasional footnotes.  Errors abound.  The author appears to think that Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet was a Communist (p.2) and her narrative of the Carter years (p. 19) implies that he won his Nobel Peace Prize at that time rather than several decades later.  There are extraordinary errors regarding the content of films cited.  The author makes repeated reference to the anti-Russian bias of Cold War James Bond films whereas in reality the Bond villains were usually international criminal organizations and more likely ‘legacy’ German villains than Russian.  The Bond flim cliche is that the superspy would cooperate with the Russian (as in “From Russia with Love” or “The Spy Who Loved Me” ), or work to avoid a Cold War calamity brought by misunderstanding as in You Only Live Twice.  James Chapman’s study “Licensed to Thrill” is the text to read on these themes of Bondage.  For each of the sins of commission there are twice as many sins of omission: movies which deal with the rogues which she omits.  Cuba is especially poorly served, with many Cuban themes and characters ignored and an absurd focus on “Scarface” (1983), which was about someone expelled by Castro in any case. One of the most frustrating elements of this book is its failure to actually get to grips even with the main filmic texts invoked.  Totman pays no attention to the process by which films are made or to the fact that film is a visual medium.  She merely summarizes plots, quotes a few lines, speculates and moves on. This book would have been so much more worthwhile if Totman had attempted to investigate how the films were made: to look at the transformations from source novels or events through script drafts to the final screenplay.  Other scholars have been able to speak to directors, script writers and cultural or technical advisers and document the reasons why a film reached its final shape.  She is—for example—unaware that one of the reasons her sympathetic-to-Iraqis film “Three Kings” took the position that it did and showed such sensitivity and accuracy was because of the number of Iraqi cultural advisers on the film.  This is not privileged information.  They are clearly acknowledged in the film’s credits and explored in the producer/director interviews which come as a bonus on the DVD.  Totman doesn’t even both to identity the director/writer of that film—David O. Russell—by name. In the midst of—and partly because of—all this chaos Totman does outline an interesting anomaly.  It is plainly hard to prove the case that Hollywood is in lock-step with Washington in its vilification of specific rogue states.  Hollywood prefers to cast the net as broadly as possible, vilifying general groups like Arabs (as Jack Shaheen has shown) or in other eras Eastern Europeans or Germans.  The absence of specific enemy states is striking.  Totman would have had more grist for her mill if she had examined the generic convention of the fictional rogue state in popular culture like Berzerkistan in the Doonesbury cartoon strip, Kreplachistan in “Austin Powers: The Spy who Shagged Me” or the troublesome state of Qumar in the TV show “The West Wing,” to say nothing of the rouge states which proliferate in video games.  As for Hollywood, when it isn’t poking fun at Rogue-stateism, it is routinely invoking rogue state scenarios to show the value of American hard power and provide a stage for the bank-able spectacle of that hard power in action.  There may be a commercial reason why this is so.  Identifying villains with real places means alienating a portion of your potential market, and Hollywood is above all an industry.  The anti-German films of the 1930s came only after the German market closed its door to US film exports.  Hollywood, like Voltaire, when asked to renounce the Devil on his deathbed, never makes an unnecessary enemy.  Hollywood is more restrained in this than the US government. In conclusion this is a truly abysmal book, which in its strongest passages merely reaches the level of an average bachelor’s thesis.  It falls short as both film scholarship and international relations, and through its legion deficiencies gives interdisciplinarity a bad name.  Its publication opens questions about the quality control mechanisms at Palgrave.  This book is of value only as a reminder of the some of the more obscure films that have been made on rogue state themes and as an example of how not to write a book on this subject. How Hollywood Projects Foreign Policy By Sally Totman with a foreword by Gary Scudder Palgrave Macmillan, October 2009 ISBN: 978-0-230-61869-5, ISBN10: 0-230-61869-3, 5-1/2 x 8-1/4 inches, 240 pages 2009-12-10T19:44:01+00:00 #When:23:21:00Z Edward R. Murrow’s contributions to public diplomacy are universally acknowledged but rarely explained. That’s a shame, because Murrow left behind more than just a few often-cited comments about the place of public diplomacy in foreign policy. His real legacy in this field is to be found in his unwavering insistence on maintaining values — often values rooted in journalism — to ensure the integrity of public diplomacy. 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 work of these and other contributors to the proceedings underscores the still evolving nature of public diplomacy. As the field has developed, it has become broader and more complex, with many players delivering messages in many venues. Sandy Vogelgesang notes that “an image of a suicide bomber on YouTube can trump the Pentagon’s latest press release on security success in Baghdad.”  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. 2009-07-27T23:21:00+00:00 #When:23:16:00Z There are two initial virtues in this book, neither of which is precisely related to the discussion of its topic. It is very clearly organized and pleasantly written, and the second is that it contains a great deal of information which Californians will certainly, and others should, find very convenient to have set out between the covers of a single book. 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. 2009-04-06T23:16:00+00:00 #When:00:43:00Z Public diplomacy as a field is fortunate to witness the publication of this major work by Evan H. Potter, entitled Branding Canada: Projecting Canada’s Soft Power through Public Diplomacy (Montreal and Kingston: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2008). Potter’s assessment in of the Canadian “brand” and associated concepts is an authoritative treatment with implications beyond the policies of an individual state. This book’s analysis of Canadian public diplomacy through the concept of “soft power” is distinguished by its depth and breadth of insight. It unfolds comprehensively in three parts: (1) definitions, debates and history; (2) instruments; and (3) process. Potter’s analysis focuses on the period from 1993 to 2005, with recommendations that are relevant for today and beyond. 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. _______________________________ 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.   2009-01-14T00:43:00+00:00 #When:04:46:34Z The following is a response from the UK Foreign & Commonwealth Office to Paul Sharp’s CPD Book Review of Engagement: Public Diplomacy in a Globalised World. 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. 2008-11-25T04:46:34+00:00 #When:16:04:01Z For a PDF of the full FCO Publication, click here 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. 2008-09-22T16:04:01+00:00 #When:00:00:00Z This volume of The Annals follows four previous volumes, reviewed in this issue in a reflective essay by Nancy Snow, which the American Academy of Political and Social Science has published on various aspects of the subject now widely called public diplomacy or, for short, PD.  The topics of the earlier Annals issues were the U.S. image abroad (1954), international education (1961), the exchange of persons (1976), and the Fulbright experience (1987).  The present volume edited by Geoffrey Cowan and Nicholas J. Cull of the University of Southern California, with its active Center for the study of the subject, is more comprehensive.  It includes essays on international broadcasting, place branding, and the distinctive PD initiatives of Cuba and Venezuela as well as the People’s Republic of China and, principally, the United States.  Several essays engage in “theorizing public diplomacy,” by attempting to fit it into larger conceptual frameworks.  The volume is rich in historical and institutional information, with ample scholarly references.  With its broad range of coverage, and its scope of ambition, the Cowan-Cull Annals volume on “Public Diplomacy in a Changing World” may well become a landmark, as a valuable reference work and a current assessment of an expanding field. The “field” of public diplomacy is not one that is easy to circumscribe, or to define.  Many attempts have been made to say exactly what “public diplomacy” is ever since Ambassador Edmund A. Gullion, as Dean of The Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University, institutionalized the term in 1965 when he established The Edward R. Murrow Center for the Study and Advancement of Public Diplomacy.  By now, the general meaning of PD—the purposeful use of the press and other communications media and links with elements in the populations of other countries mainly in order to influence their governments, in ways that traditional diplomacy cannot—is fairly well known and understood.  The basic idea, which of course existed “before Gullion,” has proved seminal.  As Bruce Gregory in his essay (“Public Diplomacy: Sunrise of an Academic Field”) in the Annals volume attests, there has been considerable growth of the subject, with an increase in the number of “practitioners” teaching public diplomacy and related courses, “strengthening a trend” that began with the creation of the Murrow Center. The acceptance of public diplomacy as an academic field has not resolved a fundamental issue within it.  This is the question—not just a definitional one—of whether it is the government that conducts it (with diplomacy of any kind being considered properly, even legally, an official function) or whether private persons and groups (individual citizens as well as corporations, unions, churches, universities, foundations, service organizations, and other NGOs) can, as “diplomats,” play in the field too.  Are the latter responsible?  Are they accountable?  Are they as effective as they say they are?  Feelings can run high on these points, although both sides of the PD “ownership” divide now increasingly recognize the need for public-private partnership, both at home and abroad.  The explanation of the détente is partly a widespread realization that governments can’t do everything.  It also reflects a conceptual development within public diplomacy itself:  as necessarily going beyond one- or even two-way image projection or verbal persuasion to real relationship-building through involvement in joint action alongside foreign counterparts—the “diplomacy of deeds,” it has been called.  “Moving from Monologue to Dialogue to Collaboration” is how Geoffrey Cowan and Amelia Arsenault describe this development in an essay.  By working together—in natural disaster reconstruction tasks, for example—the initiative, the responsibility, and the credit for a positive outcome can be shared.  The exact balance of governmental and non-governmental involvement in such operations, however, can be a very delicate matter.  Nicholas Cull in his historical taxonomy of the entire subject of public diplomacy in the Annals volume identifies the subtle factor of “the appearance of a wholly different relationship to government,” in varying situations, as a key to whether PD will flourish, particularly with regard to the “credibility” of a message or mission. The problem can be stated more philosophically:  Is it the State, acting on the basis of a doctrine of National Interest, that is determinative of a country’s relations with the world?  Or is it Society, a country’s People themselves (in the American case, a highly diverse population with ethnic and other ties with others elsewhere) that explains and validates a country’s interaction with others?  It is indeed the identity of “the nation” as well as its interest that should and, increasingly, does drive most national PD programs.  “Diplomacy” thus can become truly an international relationship, and not merely an interstate relationship. Cowan and Cull in their editorial preface to the volume implicitly bridge—perhaps even consciously finesse—the above who-owns-PD issue by defining public diplomacy as “an international actor’s attempt to advance the ends of policy by engaging with foreign publics” (emphasis added).  This brief definition allows for the possibility of autonomous involvement in PD by non-state players.  Similarly, Eytan Gilboa in a theoretical essay recognizes “the growing interdependence among all actors.”  It may be noticed that Cowan and Cull, perhaps not wholly intentionally, limit the “public diplomatic” field in their definition to policy-related matters—as distinct from, for instance, international commercial transactions or tourist travel.  Their formulation begs the primary question, however, of whose policy—whose message-content—is being advanced. Among the essays in the Annals volume there is a wide difference in perspective regarding this fundamental question.  Yiwei Wang in a frank and revealing essay on “Public Diplomacy and the Rise of Chinese Soft Power” observes that “the Chinese political system operates under the principle of democratic centralism”—State control.  He appears himself to favor increased governmental centralization, or integrated management, of diplomacy, including public diplomacy, even while pointing out that Chinese diplomats, accepting Zhou Enlai’s dictum “wai shi wu xiao shi” (there is no small issue in foreign affairs), have tended in obedience to be “overcautious.”  China’s diplomatic system is so “complicated by many departments and groups,” which Wang identifies in his essay, that it is difficult for China to “make long-term strategic arrangements to practice public diplomacy.”  In the past Beijing has emphasized “high politics” and neglected “grass-roots politics.”  The Chinese often have been surprised therefore when, for instance, “the White House sends goodwill gestures to China” and “the U.S. Congress expresses hostility.”  In order to “make the world accept the rise of Chinese power”—evidently its policy goal—the Chinese government “has to go beyond the traditional model of diplomacy,” suggests Wang, and “to initiate public diplomacy to engage foreign civil society”—thus to accomplish “the historic transition from soft power to a soft rise.” The originator of the now-universal blanket term “soft power,” Joseph S. Nye, Jr., in an essay also appears to hold an essentially State-based concept of PD—one of the ways of “getting others to want the outcomes that you want,” i.e., through co-optation rather than coercion.  The “you” in Nye’s formulation refers, of course, not just to the United States.  Countries without “hard power” (military strength or heavy economic assets) also can use PD to exercise “soft power.”  It is not always clear, however, that such countries have “the assets that produce such attraction,” and thus possess any kind of “power” at all.  (My own view is that “power” is a misnomer in diplomacy, in any case.)  Revolutionary Cuba has mainly just its colorful traditional culture to offer, as well as its more recently developed though under-resourced medical services.  Venezuela, however, has the asset of oil, which the Chávez government can offer cheaply or even give away in the name of its “Bolivarian” ideals.  “If taken too far,” as Michael J. Bustamante and Julia E. Sweig advise in their intricate and interesting essay contrasting the PD initiatives of these two dissident countries, “populist generosity can appear openly patronizing, a conundrum the United States has often faced with its own foreign aid programs.” Peter van Ham, in a lively essay on the currently fashionable idea of place branding, with reference particularly to the 27-member-country European Union, observes that “the EU may be viewed as the ultimate affluence brand.”  It has resources to spare.  It is still, however, perceived as a “civilian power,” without the military assets or the political capacity needed for it to achieve its full potential.  Van Ham wonders:  Can the EU alter its image—its “brand”?  He situates place branding within the wider spectrum of “postmodern power,” and suggests that identities can be consciously constructed.  (He, like several of the volume’s other authors, shows a strong intellectual interest in constructivism.)  The EU has “a powerful logo” but it has something more, van Ham stresses:  a commitment to law, civility, and mutual trust, and therefore a moral quality and a potential normative influence.  “Surely, European political life is not perfect,” he allows, “but for Arabs, Asians, and Africans alike, the EU model may serve as a powerful dream for their own regions.”  The European Union is essentially still an intergovernmental rather than collective political space.  It therefore has to be diplomacy as well as cross-national elite and mass communication that “constructs” it.  When the European Constitutional Treaty failed to achieve a sufficient number of ratifications, the European Commissioner for Communications, Margot Wallström, launched Plan D—Debate, Democracy, Dialogue—in order better to connect the EU with its citizens.  There remains nonetheless a general reluctance to create “a European masterbrand,” for that would compete with national identities and solidarities.  Furthermore, in a fast-globalizing international economy, it might obliterate the niche advantages that localities and their residents might now have or be able to develop in order to survive and prosper. Opposition to top-down diplomacy, whether at the national or the supranational governmental level, emerges most strongly in the Annals volume in the essay by the sociologist Manuel Castells, titled “The New Public Sphere: Global Civil Society, Communication Networks, and Global Governance.”  For Castells “public diplomacy” is, quite simply, “the diplomacy of the public.”  That is, it is something to be conducted by people themselves.  In practice, “the People” may be activists who are engaged in movements for indigenous rights, sustainable development, the anti-personnel landmines ban, abolition of nuclear weapons, and other existential forms of peace and justice.  “Because people have come to distrust the logic of instrumental politics,” he observes, “the method of direct action on direct outputs finds increasing support.”  Far from advocating a strengthening of governmental diplomacy, Castells places his faith in “the formation of a global civil society and a global network state”—that is, “de facto global governance without a global government.” Despite this profound difference of philosophical stance, Castells is not different in his understanding of the basic idea of PD from other contributors to the Annals volume, nearly all of whom recognize and approve the rise of people power.  The leitmotif of the volume is the need for better public opinion research—the bedrock of public diplomacy.  Nicholas Cull stresses the importance of “listening,” including targeted polling in other countries.  In the business of place branding, as Peter van Ham emphasizes, the “consumer” is king.  For Monroe E. Price, Susan Haas, and Drew Margolin in their essay on international broadcasting, the “audience” is all-important, and communications technologies should be chosen according to it, as well as to the policy mission.  Giles Scott-Smith in an essay discussing exchange programs and international relations theory focuses on “opinion leaders” and “the multiplier effect” of their roles abroad as “interpreters” within their societies. In the “Changing World” for Public Diplomacy of this Annals volume, with its new technologies, shifting power structures, and diffusing information, PD strategies must be “smart,” as Joseph Nye and also Ernest J. Wilson III argue in their contributions to the Cowan-Cull collection.  The world itself has “become smarter,” Wilson explains, owing to the spread of education, the increased availability of media outlets, the new affluence and sophistication of elites in China and other fast-developing countries, and, not least, the force of democracy.  From the perspective of the United States government, the new “smartness” of target audiences abroad has become, paradoxically, an embarrassment and a constraint, Wilson interestingly comments.  “The spread of democratic practices has meant that foreign leaders also have less leeway than in the past to act as American surrogates, as stand-ins for American power from over the horizon.”  However, Wilson acknowledges, today’s more democratic world also offers hope and presents new opportunities.  For diplomacy, the Changing World means becoming more open, more public, and much more communicative.  All diplomacy may never become public diplomacy, as some have suggested, but the world’s public will surely become more “diplomatic.” 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). 2008-07-11T00:00:00+00:00 #When:18:37:00Z Yale Richmond’s self-described odyssey as a U.S. diplomat through countries on the frontlines of the Cold War parallels in many ways my own, some 30 years later, as a public diplomacy officer serving in Europe, the USSR, and then Russia. 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.    2008-05-12T18:37:00+00:00 #When:17:50:00Z As we mark the fifth anniversary of the 2003 invasion of Iraq, it is worth revisiting that first year of the U.S. occupation.  The Green Zone of Chandrasekaran’s title has come to symbolize the entire Iraq venture, the enclave where America tried to graft its national narrative and institutions onto a Middle Eastern society, and then was surprised at the transplant’s rejection.  In the immediate aftermath of the toppling of Saddam Hussein’s statue, it is a time of striking images and—in some corners of the neoconservative world—heady dreams of remaking the Middle East in America’s mold.  It’s the world of the Coalition Provisional Authority or CPA, under “viceroy,” “proconsul,” “presidential envoy,” or simply, as his official title said, Administrator L. Paul “Jerry” Bremer. 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. 2008-04-24T17:50:00+00:00