This uniquely American belief that diplomacy should be transparent ran headlong into WikiLeaks, which seemed to show American diplomats as secretive. Politicians found it easy to use WikiLeaks to leverage the notion that diplomats are disloyal and unaccountable for the behind-the-scenes deals they make. This kind of thinking is compounded by the State Department’s inability to articulate and create public support for its role. A comment by former Texas governor Rick Perry in a November 11, 2011, radio program with Fox News host Bill O’Reilly symbolized the depth of the problem. “I’m not sure our State Department serves us well. I’m not talking about the Secretary of State here. I’m talking about the career diplomats . . . who all too often may not be making decisions or giving advice to the administration that’s in this country’s best interest.”
Those words, uttered nearly a year after the WikiLeaks release, resonate for a segment of the population whose distrust for the State Department and diplomacy is deep-rooted and ongoing.
NO BIG DEAL
Signs of the disconnect between Washington and its diplomats emerged the same day as the WikiLeaks release. The Obama administration was quick to distance itself from WikiLeaks, from the content of the leaked cables, and occasionally, even from those who wrote them. The lines became so blurred that it was hard to tell if the real problem was WikiLeaks or the cable writers. At worst, diplomats overseas were either disenfranchised from the foreign policy establishment or made invisible. The tone around Washington was dismissive.
“I want to make clear that our official foreign policy is not set through these messages, but here in Washington,” Secretary of State Clinton said at a November 29 press conference, leaving the role of U.S. diplomats in foreign policy an open question.
White House spokesperson Robert Gibbs joined the effort to downgrade the cables, saying, “By its very nature, field reporting to Washington is candid and often incomplete information. It is not an expression of policy, nor does it always shape final policy decisions.” Listeners were left to wonder what was the point of having diplomats, if all they offer is incomplete information and they don’t shape policy decisions.
Defense Secretary Robert Gates also dismissed the idea of any real damage. “I’ve heard the impact of these releases on our foreign policy described as a meltdown, as a game changer, and so on. I think those descriptions are fairly significantly overwrought. The fact is, governments deal with the United States because it’s in their interest, not because they like us, not because they trust us, and not because they believe we can keep secrets.” Gates insisted information sharing would continue. “Is this embarrassing? Yes. Is it awkward? Yes. Consequences for U.S. foreign policy? I think fairly modest.” 20
Gates offered a historical perspective, quoting John Adams, to illustrate that WikiLeaks was nothing new. “How can a government go on, publishing all of their negotiations with foreign nations, I know not. To me, this appears as dangerous and pernicious as it is novel.” To Gates’s way of thinking, WikiLeaks was a more modern version of the back rooms in telegraph offices where diplomatic dispatches were routinely decoded before being sent onward.
In an understandable rush to minimize the crisis, the cable writers were minimized too. Washington’s dismissive tone often focused on the relative weight and importance of the cables, rather than the leak itself. That had the unfortunate ancillary effect of associating the diplomats with the embarrassment. Absent from the State Department, White House, and Defense Department response was any mention that diplomats are members of the U.S. foreign policy community who contribute to informed internal debate, enhanced by the fact that they live, work, and often speak the language in some of the world’s most remote and complex countries.
Instead, Washington spokespeople were quick with indignation over WikiLeaks’ putting sources at risk, a fact they mentioned often. What they always failed to mention was that one of the most damaging cables, instructing diplomats to collect cell phone and credit card information on foreign diplomats working at the United Nations, actually came from Foggy Bottom.
The Washington line was a success, of sorts. A few commentators furthered the misalignment between the field and Washington by opining that the diplomatic reporting was not much more than a collection of gossipy cables, such as one citing Muammar Gaddafi’s relations with his voluptuous Ukrainian nurse, and was of negligible impact on foreign policy.
But there was a downside to the minimization. Frederick Hitz, senior fellow at the University of Virginia’s Center for National Security Law and former CIA inspector general, said the attempt to minimize had gone so far that the government had substantially weakened its own case against Assange. “American officials are working overtime to downplay the seriousness of the leaks. And as embarrassing as they are, that’s not the standard of prosecution.” 21
Asked if it wasn’t ironic, inconsistent, or even hypocritical that Secretary of State Clinton’s much-publicized Internet Freedom Initiative, articulated in a Newseum speech in January 2010, was in conflict with those like Assange who were pushing the boundaries of that freedom, Hitz agreed. “They are walking a tightrope, to be sure. In one sense transparency is good, in another seeing your own diplomatic cables displayed on pages of the New York Times is disquieting.” 22
Clinton’s remarks to the State Department traveling press on January 9, 2011, seemed to bear out his observation. “I think I will be answering concerns about WikiLeaks for the rest of my life, not just the rest of my tenure as secretary of state. I’ve told my team that I want to get one of those really sharp-looking jackets that rock-and-roll groups have on tours. And I could have a big picture of the world, and it could say ‘The Apology Tour.’”
Clinton’s public remarks furthered the idea that it was an etiquette flap rather than a security breach, repairable with exhausting rounds of polite visits and reassuring phone calls. Despite a humorous delivery, her message suggested that only thanks to endless work had the matter begun to fade.
“I have been very, very much involved in reaching out to leaders and others who have concerns about either the general message of our confidential communications being exposed in this way or specific questions about their country or themselves,” she said. “That aspect has receded a lot. I’ve done an enormous amount of work, as have other members of our government, but it still is in the atmosphere.”
Hitz’s warning would prove prescient. By 2013 it was clear that the Department of Justice was unlikely to mount a case against Assange, with most legal experts agreeing that his role as recipient of leaked material was different from that of Private Manning’s.
What no one knew on that Monday morning in November 2010 was that WikiLeaks was only the first of many incidents in which government secrets, large and small, would be revealed. Edward Snowden was waiting in the wings. The Russians would tweet an eavesdropped conversation in which the State Department’s assistant secretary for European affairs and the U.S. ambassador to Ukraine would scheme over who should and should not be in a future Ukranian government. Revelations that America was not alone in spying would come to the fore.
But the most important disconnect was far more subtle. From one topic to another, the cables reveal a rift between diplomats’ pragmatic and realistic view of what was possible in the world of 2006 to 2010 and Washington policymakers’ far more ideological and ambitious agenda.
Chapter 2
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ANTI-AMERICANISM:
Let’s Burn the Flag!
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Trying to get foreigners to like us is the default endeavor of the State Department’s public affairs office, and in my view, it’s largely a waste of time.
—James Glassman,
former Under Secretary
for Public Diplomacy and Public Affairs April 16, 2014
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ON A FRIGID WEEK IN EARLY JANUARY 2008, NEWLY elected Representative Keith Ellison (D-MN) stood at the U.S. amb
assador’s residence in Oslo, chatting with a group of Norwegian immigrants from Africa, Asia, and the Arab world. Ellison represents one of the most traditionally Norwegian-American constituencies in the United States, but what made his visit noteworthy was that he was the first Muslim elected to Congress (and also the first African-American elected to the House of Representatives from Minnesota). His swearing-in ceremony with a Qur’an once owned by Thomas Jefferson had made headlines.
The Oslo event ran overtime as Ellison fielded questions about how he could represent a country “at war with Islam”; what he thought about reparations for slavery; and whether he was able to speak freely in the United States as someone who criticized Bush administration policies. The embassy, highly pleased, reported that Ellison “helped counter simplistic and irrational anti-Americanism.” 1
This is Norway, a friendly ally. Like many Western European countries, it has welcomed Muslim immigrants who have integrated with varying degrees of success. Events across Europe since WikiLeaks suggest meetings with immigrant communities ought to be an important part of American diplomacy. But American officials don’t always do this effectively.
Cases in point were the misadventures of Karen Hughes, under secretary for Public Diplomacy and Public Affairs, who embarked on a widely publicized “listening tour,” in 2005 in which she sought out encounters with Saudi, Indonesian, Turkish, and Egyptian audiences. In contrast to the triumphal reports from Oslo, the embassies that arranged Hughes’s visit were mostly silent. They left it to the New York Times and Washington Post reporters who traveled with Hughes to describe the tenor of her meetings. Elite Saudi women disputed Hughes’s notion that their lives needed improving, saying, “Well, we’re all pretty happy.” 2 Turkish women confronted her with heated complaints about the Iraq war, “turning a session designed to highlight the empowering of women into a raw display of anger at U.S. policies in the region.” 3 American reporters lampooned Hughes for tirelessly introducing herself as a “mom” and for “her tin-eared assurances that President Bush is a man of God.” 4
There are no leaked cables touching on these gaffes and awkward moments. High-level official visits like Hughes’s require reports from embassies—but custom dictates that the visitor clears the cable, making it nearly impossible to offer an unbiased account. Embassy Cairo skirted the issue and reported only on Hughes’s meeting with Prime Minister Ahmed Nazif.5 Embassy Riyadh dodged the issue by noting Hughes had brought books for a library and requested more of the same.6 Embassy Ankara solved the problem by reporting on Turkish media coverage of Hughes’s visit, which it characterized as fair and factual. The diplomats left it to Hurriyet, Turkey’s influential daily, to describe the scene. “She had some difficult moments when many of the women criticized U.S. policy in Iraq. A KA-DER member . . . called on the United States to end wars that lead to poverty. Hughes responded that as a mother, she also did not like war, but added that sometimes war is necessary to protect the peace.” 7
Embassy reports on the visits by Ellison and Hughes illustrate a long-standing reliance on public diplomacy as a corrective to polish the rough edges of U.S. foreign policy. While all nations understand the need for public relations, Americans may be unique in their persistence in reaching beyond governments to engage directly with the people. Speeches make careful distinction between foreign leaders, who may be out of favor, and foreign people, who never are. Even in countries in which participatory democracy is a pipe dream, American diplomats routinely meet with people far from power, operating on the theory that even if their vote doesn’t count, their opinion might. They reach out to subgroups such as immigrants in Norway, women in Saudi Arabia, and dissidents in Russia. Doing this effectively takes skill and insight. While delivering a message to the foreign ministry, a mainstay of traditional diplomacy, is easy, winning friends for America is harder.
Public diplomacy cannot be a cure-all for unpopular policies. But the habit of forging policy in Washington and tasking diplomats with implementing it sets up a disconnect. Confronted with images of angry foreign crowds burning the flag, policymakers wonder why diplomats don’t do a better job; diplomats wonder why policymakers are surprised by protests and why they aren’t more interested in their knowledge of the local scene.
Diplomats who specialize in public diplomacy have at their disposal a toolkit that offers traditional soft power—academic exchanges such as the Fulbright program and cultural offerings such as jazz ambassadors—and hard power programs, such as international broadcasting in local languages and engagement with media. Visits from prominent U.S. experts from the worlds of sports, entertainment, academia, or politics are essential components of that toolkit, all of which is aimed at increasing understanding and enthusiasm for America.
Public diplomacy falls in and out of favor with policymakers. At the end of the Cold War, Congress saw little need to fund it. Having won the ideological war against communism, it seemed clear that the world was rapidly embracing democracy and free market models. Practitioners argued in vain that public diplomacy is a long-term investment. It is also costly and maddeningly difficult to show results. Cultural programs have been particularly vulnerable to skeptics who are unpersuaded the world needs another American quilt exhibit, another Fulbright grant, or another jazz concert. These critics demand proof that such programs make a difference in global public opinion. They seek to tie public diplomacy programs to one essential question: What can we do about the way the world views the United States?
After 9/11 Washington became obsessed with anti-Americanism. Successive polls taken by the Pew Research Center Global Attitudes Project showed astounding drops in support even from staunch allies, with some approval ratings in the teens or single digits.8 Polls by Gallup and Zogby, which covers the Middle East, produced similar results.
How bad was it? One Pew report showed America’s approval rating in Germany had plummeted from 78 percent in 2000 to 30 percent by 2007. Some shakier allies were even more dubious about the United States. In Turkey, approval ratings were at a dismal 9 percent; and in Greece, another NATO ally, only 34 percent held favorable views of the United States. That drop in Greece was further documented by a February 2010 U.S. Embassy Athens cable reporting that an astounding 73 percent of Greek military officers believed Greece would be better off in a military alliance with Russia.9
The Pew Research Center’s Global Attitudes Project in 2008 noted that “in Muslim nations, the wars in Afghanistan and particularly Iraq have driven negative ratings nearly off the charts . . . In the view of much of the world, the United States has played the role of bully in the school yard, throwing its weight around with little regard for others’ interests.” 10
The Pew surveys reported that public opinion in countries less closely linked to the United States was even worse. In Argentina, only 16 percent of the public had a favorable view of the United States in 2007; in Pakistan the total was 15 percent; Egypt was at 21 percent.11 While public opinion polls can be a blunt instrument for measuring fickle and nuanced attitudes, they also can be an important bellwether of dramatic shifts.
Pew surveys revealed complaints that America acts unilaterally; doesn’t take into account the interests of other nations in formulating policy; relies too much on military force; does too little to address the world’s problems, many of which it causes; and has widened the gulf between rich and poor. “On matters ranging from promotion of democracy to globalization to international security, the rest of the world became openly skeptical of America’s word and intentions over most of this decade.” 12
Pew’s late president, Andrew Kohut, told a congressional committee that anti-Americanism is an intensively held opinion, which makes it difficult to change, and that “it is no longer just the U.S. as a country that is perceived negatively, but increasingly the American people as well, a sign that anti-American opinions are deepening and becoming more entrenched.” 13 Embassy reporting cables substantiate the data and provide context for the low percentages.
The polls, along with growing numbers of anti-American incidents, led panicky policymakers to set up countless panels, commissions, and studies, all charged with fixing America’s public image problem. Almost invariably, Washington insiders convened these efforts without soliciting insights from the diplomats who had witnessed firsthand this global no-confidence vote. The commissions and their conclusions, when contrasted with the reporting cables, expose borderline disarray between Washington and the field.
THE MANY WAYS TO HATE US: TALES FROM ABROAD
After 9/11, Washington may have been seized with the need for outreach to Muslims, but embassies all around the globe were reporting to Washington about the depth and extent of anti-American sentiment that went well beyond the Muslim world. There seemed to be no overarching theme but rather a fury based on each country’s circumstances. Angry mobs torched the U.S. embassy in Belgrade on February 21, 2008, because the United States recognized Kosovo. Populist Venezuelan dictator Hugo Chávez made outrageous statements that fomented a new wave of anti-Americanism across Latin America. Protestors in Zimbabwe didn’t like U.S. sanctions; Canadian television shows featured plots that emphasized U.S. lawlessness.
Embassy officers were close enough to smell the tear gas and smoke from burning effigies, and some cable writers were enthusiastic in describing the more outlandish lengths to which countries, governments, politicians, and local media would go to tweak the eagle’s beak.
To the Secretary Page 4