Clinton, always a practitioner rather than a theoretician, searched for a phrase that would accurately encompass her worldview. She chose the term idealistic realist to emphasize the duality of both the idealistic and the realistic aspects of the issues she confronted. She also believed in smart power, a term she has continued to use following her tenure as secretary, which encapsulates the crossroads of what she called the three Ds—diplomacy, development, and defense. Clinton defined smart power as an ever-expanding toolkit in which diplomats might work on unconventional issues using new technology and skills. It echoes the theme of what she hopes will be her lasting contribution to the State Department itself—the Quadrennial Diplomacy and Development Review.
The QDDR, conducted in 2010, is probably the best reflection of Clinton’s worldview from within the State Department looking out. Through it, she attempted to tackle the single most debilitating problem for the department, year after year: erratic funding from Congress. The QDDR focuses on four areas:
Building America’s civilian power by bringing together the unique contributions of civilians across the federal government to advance U.S. interests
Elevating and transforming development to deliver results by focusing investments, supporting innovation, and measuring results
Building a civilian capacity to prevent and respond to crisis and conflict and give the U.S. military the partner it needs and deserves
Changing the way America does business by working smarter to save money, planning and budgeting to accomplish priorities, and measuring the results of investments54
Here is Clinton the CEO at her best. Not the first to try to impose managerial order on the inherently unmanageable State Department, she tried throughout the document (clearly prepared with Congress in mind) to link initiatives, resources, and measurable outcomes. She reached out to the field multiple times, seeking input, ideas, and reactions.55 The field responded in kind, and she heard in rapid succession from posts as varied as Tel Aviv, Mexico, Ankara, Dhaka, Abuja, Brussels, and Maputo. No doubt the dialogue continued beyond the last date of the leaked cables on February 28, 2010.
Unsurprisingly, Clinton used the QDDR to recapitulate her call for women to play larger roles. She continued to think about her working definition of smart power, suggesting in a controversial Georgetown University speech in December 2014 that it might even include empathizing and showing respect for one’s enemies. She offered the example of two women in the Philippines who became agents for peace in a decades-long conflict. “This is what we call smart power—using every possible tool . . . leaving no one on the sidelines, showing respect, even for one’s enemies, trying to understand and insofar as is psychologically possible, empathize with their perspective and point of view, helping to define the problems, determine a solution.”56
Clinton’s perseverance in the areas she valued most and her insistence on defining her own role as secretary of state may have clashed with State Department traditionalists looking for a Henry Kissinger, George Shultz, or Colin Powell, but in areas where she had a free hand she demonstrated consultative engagement, managerial prowess, and an instinct for outreach. And, depending on the State Department’s ability to institutionalize the QDDR architecture, she may be one of the few modern secretaries of state to have left the institution financially stronger than she found it.
There is no “Hillary doctrine,” and no true diplomatic breakthroughs, perhaps reflecting the fact that in today’s era even powerful people have less freedom of action. There are too many problems and too many stakeholders. Should Clinton become president, she would do well to reconsider the many cables from embassies describing anti-Americanism, corruption, and threats to security and democracy. These enduring issues resist once-and-for-all resolution. They will continue to delimit America’s place in an uneasy world. Her determination as a future president to chart a new course may well be circumscribed by the nuances of what the embassies were telling her all along.
EPILOGUE
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MORE THAN FIVE YEARS HAVE PASSED SINCE THAT late November day when I stood in front of a group of students wondering how to answer their questions on WikiLeaks. Some have stayed in touch, sharing the delightful news that they have become new foreign service officers. Each term I meet new students, all equally enthusiastic, anxious to know how to master the selection process. A few are daring enough to contemplate openly what many are secretly wondering: How long will it take to become an ambassador?
The students’ questions are a constant reminder that Americans know too little about the work of foreign service officers. This book attempted to use the officers’ own writing to tell at least some of their stories and demystify their work. Having heard too many people confuse the foreign service with the foreign legion, I found the opportunity to draw on officers’ cables to illustrate the innovative skills with which they practice twenty-first century diplomacy irresistible. While that would be reason enough to write this book, it is not the only reason.
A thoughtful perusal of the cables illustrates almost instantly the many divergences between the impressions of those in the field and the beliefs of policymakers in Washington. Such a revelation is unlikely to surface so starkly ever again, because the usual slow pace of the declassification process shields the data behind the lens of distant decades.
The leaked cables give us the work of today’s diplomats in real time, and it is also the first opportunity to examine the conduct of American foreign policy solely from the perspective of U.S. embassies and consulates. The opportunity to read the cables transports the reader in a way that secondhand accounts never could. One can make much or little of the disconnect, which ranges from perceptual gulfs to minor nuances, but there are points worth underscoring.
The dynamic tension between the field and Washington will inevitably swing toward Washington. Many of the best and most descriptive WikiLeaks cables were enterprise work—the products of instinct rather than a response to any request, speaking perhaps to the age-old desire of travelers to write home. It seems reasonable to assume that as the load for mandated reporting continues to rise, along with support for increasing numbers of embassy visitors, the time an officer might have for writing a leisurely but informative cable will diminish.
If there is an agenda here, it involves three pleas. The first is that the foreign policy establishment include embassy voices in the decision-making process. Officers have more than earned their seat at the policymaking table. Too often they are crowded out by ideology or perceived urgencies. Their writing eloquently testifies to their ability to ask the right questions and bring perspective, reality checks, and seasoned experience. Ignoring them or dismissing them as “the field” has impoverished the policymaking process.
The second plea is that the secretary of state give public diplomacy officers the same professional leadership that is frequently granted to their colleagues in other career tracks—an under secretary who comes from their own ranks. Public diplomacy has produced many capable senior officers who are the intellectual equivalents of some of the more legendary under secretaries—people such as William Burns and Nicholas Burns, who served as under secretaries for Political Affairs, and Patrick Kennedy, who continues to serve as under secretary for Management. The current roster of senior public diplomacy positions in Washington is weighted with too many political appointees—some of them drawn from the partisan ranks of congressional offices. Naming career officers to the top spots would professionalize a division that has succeeded in spite of poor leadership. It would also encourage the movement of experienced public diplomacy officers from the field back to Washington to take part in the policymaking process, a step toward closing the disconnect between the field and home.
The third plea is that the State Department not wait twenty-five to thirty years to declassify the leaked cables. It’s a safe bet that embassy cables will never again surface as they did during the WikiLeaks scandal. It’s an equally safe bet tha
t this won’t be the last time that the U.S. government deals with leaked documents, intercepted conversations, and other waylaid communications. Those charged with protecting confidential data have an unenviable task. But the WikiLeaks cables have now been on a number of Internet sites for five years. As education in political science and international relations increasingly draws its professoriate from the professional ranks—and as students increasingly come from mid-career jobs in government—it seems pointless to argue that the WikiLeaks cables, widely available to the world at large—should be off limits to those carrying security clearances. This unfairly disadvantages those who are the most knowledgeable and have the most to contribute. International relations and related fields are among the most internationalized parts of most campuses, attracting professors and students from many countries, all of whom could easily use the cables in their research. American students and scholars should have the same access.
IT SEEMS REASONABLE to wonder whether cable writing will maintain its relevance in an age of instantaneous communication. Diplomats originally wrote telegrams because they represented the cutting-edge technology of the time. It would be silly to cling to an old technology when there are so many better means available. Just as the digital age has changed the way we read books, it will continue to change the way diplomats report home. Policymakers will turn to other, faster means to get a quick read-out, for example, on what was said after a démarche was delivered.
But gains rarely come without losses. Cable writing is thoughtful and reflective—a cross between reporting and essay writing. One’s understanding and perspective on what just happened in a meeting can change over time. Anger felt upon leaving a foreign ministry might ultimately fade to something closer to understanding. A reaction that seemed explosive in the heat of the moment might, in a larger context, be more forgivable. Cables provide context.
It would be a shame, too, if all the details that make the cables worth reading—what was worn, how many drinks were consumed, the number of hunting trophies on the wall behind the president—are scrapped for the sake of speed. Diplomacy is still an art, as is good writing. The act of thoughtful and reflective writing about diplomacy surely ought to endure.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
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MY THANKS GO to my literary agent, Andy Ross, for seeing the value in my first attempt at formulating a book proposal. His expansive definition of being an agent meant staying in touch throughout the writing process, offering encouragement and insightful comments. My editors, Brendan Curry and Sophie Duvernoy, along with many others at Norton, did a fine job in all the many aspects involved in the art of book publishing.
The unique circumstances of writing a book that relied heavily on information that is clearly in the public domain but has not been declassified became an intriguing problem. I owe a debt to Jessica Friedman, who first raised the issue. Boston attorney Paul Johnson, a friend, connected me to lawyer/writer/film producer Thomas Herman who understood the complexities of writing a book based on leaked documents. Tom, in turn, led me to John B. Bellinger III, the former State Department legal advisor, whose intimate knowledge of the pre-publication review process proved invaluable. I am grateful to all of them for grappling with the unusual issues that arose from working with WikiLeaks cables.
My family endured far too much dinner table talk about cables, bearing with me as I exclaimed over yet another great find. My parents, to whom this book is dedicated, checked in regularly, and my late husband, Harold, who always liked to say he was “worldwide available,” was a sounding board for my ideas. My children Andie, Gareth, and Gwyneth shared my overseas assignments and are proud of being third-culture kids. They all read parts of the manuscript and identified the boring bits, and if I have failed to remove them it is not their fault. Son-in-law Sean offered encouragement, and my brothers Chet and Colin had such exciting thoughts about how to market the book that I couldn’t help but finish it. I am lucky to have an uncle, William Irwin Thompson, who is the literary giant of the family and who offered a thoughtful critique on every chapter.
Because the leaked cables are still considered classified, I was unable to get input from my foreign service colleagues who are still serving, but my academic colleagues were willing and able to help. Dr. Marissa Lombardi read the chapter on corruption, and Dr. Leslie Hitch and Dr. Micky Cokely were constant sources of wise counsel. Four graduate students—Dana Stranz, Lin Feng, Ruth Garcia, and Jingshu Zhu—all took on research work, and Dana Stranz also did enormous additional editing.
I believe higher education is critical to our nation’s place in the world, and I was privileged to attend three fine schools that gave me the analytic skills to succeed in my profession. California State University Northridge taught me to be a journalist and a lifelong writer. Tufts University’s Fletcher School helped me achieve my ambition to become a diplomat, and the University of Pennsylvania’s Graduate School of Education gave me the chance to think critically and analytically about the role of educational exchanges, which were central to my work as a public diplomacy officer. At Fletcher I was blessed with phenomenal professors such as the late ambassador Hewson Ryan, former ambassador William Rugh, diplomatic historian Alan Henrikson, security studies expert Richard Shultz, and many more. At Penn I was exposed to the minds of professors Robert Zemsky, Matt Hartley, and Mary-Linda Armacost, along with the fine members of Cohort 10.
Writing a book turns out to be a great way to find out who your friends are. Many people offered encouragement and helpful insights. Dean John LaBrie of the College of Professional Studies at Northeastern nudged me along, as did Jo Ann Gammel and Mary Huegel at Endicott College. Imogen Sieveking is one of the best interpreters of Latin America I have ever met. My many students inspire me.
My former boss, Ambassador Richard Graber, led by example and ran a great embassy. Ambassador John Hamilton personified for many of us the meaning of the word integrity. As I wrote, I had images in my mind of incidents and scenes from embassies and consulates led by extraordinary people such as Eric Edelman, Bruce Wharton, Deborah McCarthy, John Ordway, Adrian Basora, and Steve McFarland. I enjoyed a special relationship that comes from a shared career interest with public diplomacy officers such as Susan Domowitz, Jeff Sexton, Dan Whitman, Kay Mayfield, Ryan Rowlands, Ida Heckenbach, Paula Wikle, John Vance, John Law, and David Gainer. I learned a great deal from other FSOs with different skills, such as Stuart Hatcher, Marty Melzow, David Lindwall, Mike Foster, Kevin Rubesh, Michael Rinker, Charles Blaha, Kenneth Meyer, Tom Nave, Joanne Ingalls, Martina Strong, Judy Pruitt, Michael Dodman, Amy Carnie, Greg O’Connor, and many more. These people run embassies. They give their all, every day.
All of us worked alongside locally employed staff—the people who serve as the continuity for U.S. foreign policy abroad. They serve as windows into their countries, and the best of them tirelessly educate each new crop of American officers, transforming us from raw beginners to people who can interpret events with a practiced eye. They contributed content and editorial value to many of the cables. Helena Markusová was such a person for me. Others include Markéta Koláová, Jana Kernerová, Jana Ruckerová, Helena Vágnerová, Marie Bártová, Zuzana Kuerová, Karel Sedlák, Miroslav ernik, Petr Doleal, Jakub Hornek, Louis Quintal, Paloma Herrera, Asunción Sanz, Geraldine Melby, Carmen Fonseca, and many, many more.
My husband was a member of one last group of great importance—the spouses of foreign service officers, such as Stephanie Rowlands, Gerry Andrianopoulis, Irene Mills, Richard Gilbert, Collette Rinker, Jean O’Connor, and many more. These talented and devoted people don’t often get credit for their enormous contribution to the foreign service. They make it possible for officers to be sent to unaccompanied posts in Iraq, Afghanistan, and Pakistan, and they handle the pack-outs and move-ins, schools, medical issues, and so much more.
NOTES
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A Note on WikiLeaks Citations
The WikiLeaks cables are acc
essible from a variety of public websites, including newspapers involved in the original release in 2010. The author accessed the cables through cablegatesearch.net. The cables have since been reorganized by WikiLeaks to wikileaks.org, which features Plus D, The Public Library of U.S. Diplomacy. The searchable database allows researchers to look by country, topic, date, or combinations of all three. The name “Cablegate” is the WikiLeaks term for the release of the 251,287 State Department cables. The WikiLeaks site contains many documents in addition to the Cablegate tranche from other U.S. government agencies and the private sector.
Unsurprisingly given their provenance, there is no consensus on how authors should cite WikiLeaks cables. This book includes the city of the originating embassy or consulate, the date, and the subject line (or title). The subject line offers valuable additional information. FSOs are trained to compose titles designed to catch the attention of busy State Department readers, as their cable will compete with hundreds of others each day. The titles often convey humor, wit, nuance, or additional headline-style information, such as “Foreign Minister Rejects Initiative.” An overburdened desk officer can read further to find out why, but the subject line, much like a headline, conveys the essence. In the case of situation reports, or sitreps, the subject lines often offer sequential numbering in addition to the date, so it is clear where the cable fits in the course of the crisis.
Prologue
1. See Alan Rusbridger, Play It Again: An Amateur Against the Impossible (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013), for his diary account of the drama behind the collaboration with the New York Times.
To the Secretary Page 33