Chávez ameaça transformar Bolívia em "Vietnã" se Morales for derrubado
da Folha Online, 14/10/2007 - 20h55
O líder venezuelano, Hugo Chávez, ameaçou neste domingo transformar a Bolívia em um novo "Vietnã", se a oposição boliviana derrubar ou assassinar o presidente Evo Morales.
"Se a oligarquia boliviana, Deus não queira, derrubar Evo ou assassiná-lo, saibam vocês, oligarcas da Bolívia, que o governo da Venezuela e os venezuelanos não vão ficar de braços cruzados. Tenham muito cuidado, porque não verão o Vietnã das idéias, não será o Vietnã da Constituinte, será, e Deus não queira, o Vietnã das metralhadoras, o Vietnã da guerra", disse Chávez em tom enérgico.
O anúncio foi feito no programa "Alô, presidente", transmitido neste domingo da cidade cubana de Santa Clara para lembrar os 40 anos da morte do líder guerrilheiro Ernesto Che Guevara.
O presidente venezuelano, aliado de Cuba, Nicarágua e Bolívia, disse que "sabe das conspirações contra Evo Morales e das tentativas do Império (EUA) para derrubar Evo, porque Evo é dos que não se vendem".
Chávez destacou que seu aliado boliviano "não é bruto, é inteligente, tem coragem e valor". Segundo Chávez, a oposição boliviana, "valendo-se de artimanhas e terrorismo", está boicotando a Constituinte, que está por terminar "sem poder aprovar um artigo sequer".
O líder venezuelano revelou que conversou com seu colega do Brasil, Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, sobre a necessidade de se fazer algo "para evitar que na Bolívia ocorra o que aconteceu na Venezuela em 2002", em referência à tentativa de golpe que o tirou do poder durante 47 horas.
Já menos incisivo, Chávez lembrou que "estamos vendo a profecia de Che: um Vietnã, dois, três Vietnãs na América Latina. Equador, Venezuela, são povos rebelados. O que é a Bolívia hoje se não um Vietnã? Um povo que despertou, um líder à frente que está derrotando as forças do Império e os lacaios oligarcas, que arremetem contra Evo, Venezuela e Cuba".
Neste domingo, durante uma conversa "ao vivo" entre Chávez e o presidente cubano licenciado, Fidel Castro, os dois líderes lembraram que Che Guevara pensou em estabelecer uma guerrilha na Venezuela antes de seguir para a Bolívia, onde foi morto em 1967.
"Che tinha planos para ir à Venezuela, antes de ir à Bolívia", disse Chávez, antes de Castro responder que "depois da Revolução Cubana, na Venezuela estão se criando aceleradamente as condições para uma revolução".
"O mundo está repleto de Vietnãs contra o poder tirânico (os EUA), este Exército sobre o planeta", disse Castro, ao lembrar o sonho de Che de criar "um, dois, três, muitos Vietnãs" na América Latina.
Temas de relações internacionais, de política externa e de diplomacia brasileira, com ênfase em políticas econômicas, viagens, livros e cultura em geral. Um quilombo de resistência intelectual em defesa da racionalidade, da inteligência e das liberdades democráticas. Ver também minha página: www.pralmeida.net (em construção).
segunda-feira, 15 de outubro de 2007
sábado, 13 de outubro de 2007
782) Doris Lessing sobre o politicamente correto
Confesso que nunca li nada da Premio Nobel de literatura, a escritora inglesa Doris Lessing, ganhadora em 2007. Deve ter sido por essa mania de ficar sempre lendo material "sério" de ciências humanas ou sociais, ou economia e problemas de relações internacionais. e de deixar a boa literatura para "depois", para "quando tiver tempo", o que obviamente nunca aparece, sendo assim...
Ou melhor, nunca tinha lido nada até hoje. O New York Times publica um artigo antigo dela sobre a "incorreção" do politicamente correto, que ela vê como um dos muitos resultados do comunismo e do modo comunista de pensar. Vou procurar ler um dos seus romances. Agora apreciem sua prosa saborosa...
Op-Ed Contributor
New York Times, October 13, 2007
On Thursday, the novelist Doris Lessing won the 2007 Nobel Prize in Literature. Moments after the announcement, the literary world embarked on a time-honored post-Nobel tradition: assessing — and sometimes sniffing at — the work of the prizewinner. One of the most pointed criticisms of Ms. Lessing came from Harold Bloom, the Yale professor and literary critic, who told The Associated Press, “Although Ms. Lessing at the beginning of her writing career had a few admirable qualities, I find her work for the past 15 years quite unreadable.” He went on to add that the prize is “pure political correctness.” Interestingly, Ms. Lessing had some strong thoughts about political correctness, thoughts she expressed in this adapted article, which appeared on the Op-Ed page on June 26, 1992.
Questions You Should Never Ask a Writer
By DORIS LESSING
New York Times, Op-Ed page on June 26, 1992
WHILE we have seen the apparent death of Communism, ways of thinking that were either born under Communism or strengthened by Communism still govern our lives. Not all of them are as immediately evident as a legacy of Communism as political correctness.
The first point: language. It is not a new thought that Communism debased language and, with language, thought. There is a Communist jargon recognizable after a single sentence. Few people in Europe have not joked in their time about “concrete steps,” “contradictions,” “the interpenetration of opposites,” and the rest.
The first time I saw that mind-deadening slogans had the power to take wing and fly far from their origins was in the 1950s when I read an article in The Times of London and saw them in use. “The demo last Saturday was irrefutable proof that the concrete situation...” Words confined to the left as corralled animals had passed into general use and, with them, ideas. One might read whole articles in the conservative and liberal press that were Marxist, but the writers did not know it. But there is an aspect of this heritage that is much harder to see.
Even five, six years ago, Izvestia, Pravda and a thousand other Communist papers were written in a language that seemed designed to fill up as much space as possible without actually saying anything. Because, of course, it was dangerous to take up positions that might have to be defended. Now all these newspapers have rediscovered the use of language. But the heritage of dead and empty language these days is to be found in academia, and particularly in some areas of sociology and psychology.
A young friend of mine from North Yemen saved up every bit of money he could to travel to Britain to study that branch of sociology that teaches how to spread Western expertise to benighted natives. I asked to see his study material and he showed me a thick tome, written so badly and in such ugly, empty jargon it was hard to follow. There were several hundred pages, and the ideas in it could easily have been put in 10 pages.
Yes, I know the obfuscations of academia did not begin with Communism — as Swift, for one, tells us — but the pedantries and verbosity of Communism had their roots in German academia. And now that has become a kind of mildew blighting the whole world.
It is one of the paradoxes of our time that ideas capable of transforming our societies, full of insights about how the human animal actually behaves and thinks, are often presented in unreadable language.
The second point is linked with the first. Powerful ideas affecting our behavior can be visible only in brief sentences, even a phrase — a catch phrase. All writers are asked this question by interviewers: “Do you think a writer should...?” “Ought writers to...?” The question always has to do with a political stance, and note that the assumption behind the words is that all writers should do the same thing, whatever it is. The phrases “Should a writer...?” “Ought writers to...?” have a long history that seems unknown to the people who so casually use them. Another is “commitment,” so much in vogue not long ago. Is so and so a committed writer?
A successor to “commitment” is “raising consciousness.” This is double-edged. The people whose consciousness is being raised may be given information they most desperately lack and need, may be given moral support they need. But the process nearly always means that the pupil gets only the propaganda the instructor approves of. “Raising consciousness,” like “commitment,” like “political correctness,” is a continuation of that old bully, the party line.
A very common way of thinking in literary criticism is not seen as a consequence of Communism, but it is. Every writer has the experience of being told that a novel, a story, is “about” something or other. I wrote a story, “The Fifth Child,” which was at once pigeonholed as being about the Palestinian problem, genetic research, feminism, anti-Semitism and so on.
A journalist from France walked into my living room and before she had even sat down said, “Of course ‘The Fifth Child’ is about AIDS.”
An effective conversation stopper, I assure you. But what is interesting is the habit of mind that has to analyze a literary work like this. If you say, “Had I wanted to write about AIDS or the Palestinian problem I would have written a pamphlet,” you tend to get baffled stares. That a work of the imagination has to be “really” about some problem is, again, an heir of Socialist Realism. To write a story for the sake of storytelling is frivolous, not to say reactionary.
The demand that stories must be “about” something is from Communist thinking and, further back, from religious thinking, with its desire for self-improvement books as simple-minded as the messages on samplers.
The phrase “political correctness” was born as Communism was collapsing. I do not think this was chance. I am not suggesting that the torch of Communism has been handed on to the political correctors. I am suggesting that habits of mind have been absorbed, often without knowing it.
There is obviously something very attractive about telling other people what to do: I am putting it in this nursery way rather than in more intellectual language because I see it as nursery behavior. Art — the arts generally — are always unpredictable, maverick, and tend to be, at their best, uncomfortable. Literature, in particular, has always inspired the House committees, the Zhdanovs, the fits of moralizing, but, at worst, persecution. It troubles me that political correctness does not seem to know what its exemplars and predecessors are; it troubles me more that it may know and does not care.
Does political correctness have a good side? Yes, it does, for it makes us re-examine attitudes, and that is always useful. The trouble is that, with all popular movements, the lunatic fringe so quickly ceases to be a fringe; the tail begins to wag the dog. For every woman or man who is quietly and sensibly using the idea to examine our assumptions, there are 20 rabble-rousers whose real motive is desire for power over others, no less rabble-rousers because they see themselves as anti-racists or feminists or whatever.
A professor friend describes how when students kept walking out of classes on genetics and boycotting visiting lecturers whose points of view did not coincide with their ideology, he invited them to his study for discussion and for viewing a video of the actual facts. Half a dozen youngsters in their uniform of jeans and T-shirts filed in, sat down, kept silent while he reasoned with them, kept their eyes down while he ran the video and then, as one person, marched out. A demonstration — they might very well have been shocked to hear — which was a mirror of Communist behavior, an acting out, a visual representation of the closed minds of young Communist activists.
Again and again in Britain we see in town councils or in school counselors or headmistresses or headmasters or teachers being hounded by groups and cabals of witch hunters, using the most dirty and often cruel tactics. They claim their victims are racist or in some way reactionary. Again and again an appeal to higher authorities has proved the campaign was unfair.
I am sure that millions of people, the rug of Communism pulled out from under them, are searching frantically, and perhaps not even knowing it, for another dogma.
Ou melhor, nunca tinha lido nada até hoje. O New York Times publica um artigo antigo dela sobre a "incorreção" do politicamente correto, que ela vê como um dos muitos resultados do comunismo e do modo comunista de pensar. Vou procurar ler um dos seus romances. Agora apreciem sua prosa saborosa...
Op-Ed Contributor
New York Times, October 13, 2007
On Thursday, the novelist Doris Lessing won the 2007 Nobel Prize in Literature. Moments after the announcement, the literary world embarked on a time-honored post-Nobel tradition: assessing — and sometimes sniffing at — the work of the prizewinner. One of the most pointed criticisms of Ms. Lessing came from Harold Bloom, the Yale professor and literary critic, who told The Associated Press, “Although Ms. Lessing at the beginning of her writing career had a few admirable qualities, I find her work for the past 15 years quite unreadable.” He went on to add that the prize is “pure political correctness.” Interestingly, Ms. Lessing had some strong thoughts about political correctness, thoughts she expressed in this adapted article, which appeared on the Op-Ed page on June 26, 1992.
Questions You Should Never Ask a Writer
By DORIS LESSING
New York Times, Op-Ed page on June 26, 1992
WHILE we have seen the apparent death of Communism, ways of thinking that were either born under Communism or strengthened by Communism still govern our lives. Not all of them are as immediately evident as a legacy of Communism as political correctness.
The first point: language. It is not a new thought that Communism debased language and, with language, thought. There is a Communist jargon recognizable after a single sentence. Few people in Europe have not joked in their time about “concrete steps,” “contradictions,” “the interpenetration of opposites,” and the rest.
The first time I saw that mind-deadening slogans had the power to take wing and fly far from their origins was in the 1950s when I read an article in The Times of London and saw them in use. “The demo last Saturday was irrefutable proof that the concrete situation...” Words confined to the left as corralled animals had passed into general use and, with them, ideas. One might read whole articles in the conservative and liberal press that were Marxist, but the writers did not know it. But there is an aspect of this heritage that is much harder to see.
Even five, six years ago, Izvestia, Pravda and a thousand other Communist papers were written in a language that seemed designed to fill up as much space as possible without actually saying anything. Because, of course, it was dangerous to take up positions that might have to be defended. Now all these newspapers have rediscovered the use of language. But the heritage of dead and empty language these days is to be found in academia, and particularly in some areas of sociology and psychology.
A young friend of mine from North Yemen saved up every bit of money he could to travel to Britain to study that branch of sociology that teaches how to spread Western expertise to benighted natives. I asked to see his study material and he showed me a thick tome, written so badly and in such ugly, empty jargon it was hard to follow. There were several hundred pages, and the ideas in it could easily have been put in 10 pages.
Yes, I know the obfuscations of academia did not begin with Communism — as Swift, for one, tells us — but the pedantries and verbosity of Communism had their roots in German academia. And now that has become a kind of mildew blighting the whole world.
It is one of the paradoxes of our time that ideas capable of transforming our societies, full of insights about how the human animal actually behaves and thinks, are often presented in unreadable language.
The second point is linked with the first. Powerful ideas affecting our behavior can be visible only in brief sentences, even a phrase — a catch phrase. All writers are asked this question by interviewers: “Do you think a writer should...?” “Ought writers to...?” The question always has to do with a political stance, and note that the assumption behind the words is that all writers should do the same thing, whatever it is. The phrases “Should a writer...?” “Ought writers to...?” have a long history that seems unknown to the people who so casually use them. Another is “commitment,” so much in vogue not long ago. Is so and so a committed writer?
A successor to “commitment” is “raising consciousness.” This is double-edged. The people whose consciousness is being raised may be given information they most desperately lack and need, may be given moral support they need. But the process nearly always means that the pupil gets only the propaganda the instructor approves of. “Raising consciousness,” like “commitment,” like “political correctness,” is a continuation of that old bully, the party line.
A very common way of thinking in literary criticism is not seen as a consequence of Communism, but it is. Every writer has the experience of being told that a novel, a story, is “about” something or other. I wrote a story, “The Fifth Child,” which was at once pigeonholed as being about the Palestinian problem, genetic research, feminism, anti-Semitism and so on.
A journalist from France walked into my living room and before she had even sat down said, “Of course ‘The Fifth Child’ is about AIDS.”
An effective conversation stopper, I assure you. But what is interesting is the habit of mind that has to analyze a literary work like this. If you say, “Had I wanted to write about AIDS or the Palestinian problem I would have written a pamphlet,” you tend to get baffled stares. That a work of the imagination has to be “really” about some problem is, again, an heir of Socialist Realism. To write a story for the sake of storytelling is frivolous, not to say reactionary.
The demand that stories must be “about” something is from Communist thinking and, further back, from religious thinking, with its desire for self-improvement books as simple-minded as the messages on samplers.
The phrase “political correctness” was born as Communism was collapsing. I do not think this was chance. I am not suggesting that the torch of Communism has been handed on to the political correctors. I am suggesting that habits of mind have been absorbed, often without knowing it.
There is obviously something very attractive about telling other people what to do: I am putting it in this nursery way rather than in more intellectual language because I see it as nursery behavior. Art — the arts generally — are always unpredictable, maverick, and tend to be, at their best, uncomfortable. Literature, in particular, has always inspired the House committees, the Zhdanovs, the fits of moralizing, but, at worst, persecution. It troubles me that political correctness does not seem to know what its exemplars and predecessors are; it troubles me more that it may know and does not care.
Does political correctness have a good side? Yes, it does, for it makes us re-examine attitudes, and that is always useful. The trouble is that, with all popular movements, the lunatic fringe so quickly ceases to be a fringe; the tail begins to wag the dog. For every woman or man who is quietly and sensibly using the idea to examine our assumptions, there are 20 rabble-rousers whose real motive is desire for power over others, no less rabble-rousers because they see themselves as anti-racists or feminists or whatever.
A professor friend describes how when students kept walking out of classes on genetics and boycotting visiting lecturers whose points of view did not coincide with their ideology, he invited them to his study for discussion and for viewing a video of the actual facts. Half a dozen youngsters in their uniform of jeans and T-shirts filed in, sat down, kept silent while he reasoned with them, kept their eyes down while he ran the video and then, as one person, marched out. A demonstration — they might very well have been shocked to hear — which was a mirror of Communist behavior, an acting out, a visual representation of the closed minds of young Communist activists.
Again and again in Britain we see in town councils or in school counselors or headmistresses or headmasters or teachers being hounded by groups and cabals of witch hunters, using the most dirty and often cruel tactics. They claim their victims are racist or in some way reactionary. Again and again an appeal to higher authorities has proved the campaign was unfair.
I am sure that millions of people, the rug of Communism pulled out from under them, are searching frantically, and perhaps not even knowing it, for another dogma.
quarta-feira, 10 de outubro de 2007
781) Depois do indice BigMac do The Economist, o indice iPod...
...e desta vez o Brasil se sagra campeão, mas por uma má razão:
Brasil tem o iPod mais caro do mundo e Hong Kong o mais barato
Folha Online, 04/10/2007
O Brasil continua a ser o lugar mais caro do mundo para se comprar um iPod. Um dos maiores bancos australianos, o Commonwealth Bank, usou a mais recente versão do player de mídia da Apple --o Nano de quatro gigabytes-- como forma de comparar as moedas e o poder aquisitivo em 55 países.
Inspirada pelo índice Big Mac da revista "Economist", a pesquisa determina o preço do aparelho em dólares dos Estados Unidos. Segundo o estudo, os brasileiros são os consumidores que pagam mais caro pelo aparelho, desembolsando US$ 369,61.
Hong Kong oferece o preço mais baixo para o Nano, US$ 148,12, seguido por EUA (US$ 149), Japão (US$ 154,21), Taiwan (US$ 165,82) e Cingapura (US$167,31).
Confira a lista do iPod, baseada em preços de outubro:
1. Brasil - US$ 369,61
2. Bulgária - US$ 318,60
3. Argentina - US$ 317,45
4. Israel - US$ 300,80
5. Peru - US$ 294,08
6. Chile - US$ 294,06
7. Malta - US$ 293,83
8. Egito - US$ 269,10
9. Romênia - US$ 266,60
10. Uruguai - US$ 260,00
11. Turquia - US$ 256,12
12. Hungria - US$ 254,50
13. Azerbaijão - US$ 252,11
14. Sérvia - US$ 249,14
15. Croácia - US$ 245,41
16. Rep. Tcheca - US$ 242,54
17. Eslováquia - US$ 234,13
18. Estônia - US$ 226,67
19. África do Sul - US$ 226,60
20. Finlândia - US$ 225,82
21. França - US$ 225,82
22. Rússia - US$ 220,32
23. Noruega - US$ 220,20
24. Suécia - US$ 215,35
25. Bélgica - US$ 211,62
26. Áustria - US$ 211,62
27. Itália - US$ 211,62
28. Portugal - US$ 211,62
29. Irlanda - US$ 211,62
30. Alemanha - US$ 211,62
31. Holanda - US$ 211,62
32. Dinamarca - US$ 209,26
33. Reino Unido - US$ 201,92
34. México - US$ 201,87
35. Chipre - US$ 201,85
36. Luxemburgo - US$ 201,12
37. Polônia - US$ 200,52
38. Filipinas - US$ 198,39
39. Espanha - US$ 197,42
40. Grécia - US$ 196,51
41. Suíça - US$ 195,43
42. Índia - US$ 183,47
43. Malásia - US$ 181,82
44. Coréia do Sul - US$ 180,60
45. Nova Zelândia - US$ 180,58
46. China - US$ 179,63
47. Paquistão - US$ 179,48
48. Austrália - US$ 175,42
49. Tailândia - US$ 174,89
50. Canadá - US$ 169,68
51. Cingapura - US$ 167,31
52. Taiwan - US$ 165,82
53. Japão - US$ 154,21
54. EUA - US$ 149,00
55. Hong Kong - US$ 148,12
Com informações da agência Reuters
Brasil tem o iPod mais caro do mundo e Hong Kong o mais barato
Folha Online, 04/10/2007
O Brasil continua a ser o lugar mais caro do mundo para se comprar um iPod. Um dos maiores bancos australianos, o Commonwealth Bank, usou a mais recente versão do player de mídia da Apple --o Nano de quatro gigabytes-- como forma de comparar as moedas e o poder aquisitivo em 55 países.
Inspirada pelo índice Big Mac da revista "Economist", a pesquisa determina o preço do aparelho em dólares dos Estados Unidos. Segundo o estudo, os brasileiros são os consumidores que pagam mais caro pelo aparelho, desembolsando US$ 369,61.
Hong Kong oferece o preço mais baixo para o Nano, US$ 148,12, seguido por EUA (US$ 149), Japão (US$ 154,21), Taiwan (US$ 165,82) e Cingapura (US$167,31).
Confira a lista do iPod, baseada em preços de outubro:
1. Brasil - US$ 369,61
2. Bulgária - US$ 318,60
3. Argentina - US$ 317,45
4. Israel - US$ 300,80
5. Peru - US$ 294,08
6. Chile - US$ 294,06
7. Malta - US$ 293,83
8. Egito - US$ 269,10
9. Romênia - US$ 266,60
10. Uruguai - US$ 260,00
11. Turquia - US$ 256,12
12. Hungria - US$ 254,50
13. Azerbaijão - US$ 252,11
14. Sérvia - US$ 249,14
15. Croácia - US$ 245,41
16. Rep. Tcheca - US$ 242,54
17. Eslováquia - US$ 234,13
18. Estônia - US$ 226,67
19. África do Sul - US$ 226,60
20. Finlândia - US$ 225,82
21. França - US$ 225,82
22. Rússia - US$ 220,32
23. Noruega - US$ 220,20
24. Suécia - US$ 215,35
25. Bélgica - US$ 211,62
26. Áustria - US$ 211,62
27. Itália - US$ 211,62
28. Portugal - US$ 211,62
29. Irlanda - US$ 211,62
30. Alemanha - US$ 211,62
31. Holanda - US$ 211,62
32. Dinamarca - US$ 209,26
33. Reino Unido - US$ 201,92
34. México - US$ 201,87
35. Chipre - US$ 201,85
36. Luxemburgo - US$ 201,12
37. Polônia - US$ 200,52
38. Filipinas - US$ 198,39
39. Espanha - US$ 197,42
40. Grécia - US$ 196,51
41. Suíça - US$ 195,43
42. Índia - US$ 183,47
43. Malásia - US$ 181,82
44. Coréia do Sul - US$ 180,60
45. Nova Zelândia - US$ 180,58
46. China - US$ 179,63
47. Paquistão - US$ 179,48
48. Austrália - US$ 175,42
49. Tailândia - US$ 174,89
50. Canadá - US$ 169,68
51. Cingapura - US$ 167,31
52. Taiwan - US$ 165,82
53. Japão - US$ 154,21
54. EUA - US$ 149,00
55. Hong Kong - US$ 148,12
Com informações da agência Reuters
segunda-feira, 8 de outubro de 2007
780) E por falar em citação, esta vale para economistas...
John Maurice Clark is widely quoted as saying (or having written):
"An irrational passion for dispassionate rationality will take the joy out of life."
The quote is often abbreviated, with the "will take the joy out of life" being left off and with the first part said to define an economist.
(From Richard McKenzie, message in Economic History Net, October 8, 2007)
"An irrational passion for dispassionate rationality will take the joy out of life."
The quote is often abbreviated, with the "will take the joy out of life" being left off and with the first part said to define an economist.
(From Richard McKenzie, message in Economic History Net, October 8, 2007)
779) Foreign Policy em espanhol: citação pessoal
Um amigo avisou-me, em 8/10/2007, que o número corrente da revista Foreign Policy en español traz um artigo do jornalista espanhol Fernando Gualdoni (correspondente do El País), sobre o tema da integraçao das infraestruturas na America do Sul, no qual ele cita um artigo meu e meu site.
Neste link: http://www.fp-es.org/oct_nov_2007/story_23_15.asp
Transcrevo as suas citações:
"El reconocido académico y diplomático brasileño Paulo Roberto de Almeida, en un artículo publicado hace tres años en la Revista Brasileña de Política Internacional, da a entender que, aunque la integración regional fue para el Gobierno de Cardoso una prioridad, ésta quedó más en el plano retórico que práctico."
e
"Para profundizar en la estrategia política de Brasil hacia la integración regional, es especialmente interesante el artículo titulado 'Uma política externa engajada: a diplomacia do governo Lula', escrito por el diplomático Paulo Roberto de Almeida y publicado en la Revista Brasileira de Política Internacional, Vol. 47, Nº 1, 2004. También del mismo autor es aconsejable el libro O estudo das relações internacionais do Brasil (LGE Editora, 2006). En la propia página de Internet de Almeida, www.pralmeida.org, hay otros artículos reveladores de la política exterior brasileña."
Neste link: http://www.fp-es.org/oct_nov_2007/story_23_15.asp
Transcrevo as suas citações:
"El reconocido académico y diplomático brasileño Paulo Roberto de Almeida, en un artículo publicado hace tres años en la Revista Brasileña de Política Internacional, da a entender que, aunque la integración regional fue para el Gobierno de Cardoso una prioridad, ésta quedó más en el plano retórico que práctico."
e
"Para profundizar en la estrategia política de Brasil hacia la integración regional, es especialmente interesante el artículo titulado 'Uma política externa engajada: a diplomacia do governo Lula', escrito por el diplomático Paulo Roberto de Almeida y publicado en la Revista Brasileira de Política Internacional, Vol. 47, Nº 1, 2004. También del mismo autor es aconsejable el libro O estudo das relações internacionais do Brasil (LGE Editora, 2006). En la propia página de Internet de Almeida, www.pralmeida.org, hay otros artículos reveladores de la política exterior brasileña."
sábado, 6 de outubro de 2007
778) Imigração alemã no Brasil: 160 anos
Espírito Santo comemora 160 anos de imigração alemã
Solenidade teve a presença do cônsul geral da Alemanha no Rio de Janeiro, em sua primeira visita oficial ao Estado.
Alemães e descendentes comemoraram nesta 6a. feira, 05, em Santa Maria, distrito de Marechal Floriano,ES, o Dia da Unidade Alemã e os 160 anos da Imigração Alemã no Estado. A festa teve a presença do cônsul geral da Alemanha no Rio de Janeiro, Hermann Erath, da vice-consulesa do Consulado Geral da Alemanha no Rio de Janeiro, Birgit Densch, do cônsul honorário da Alemanha no Espírito Santo, Joern Duus, do ex-cônsul Helmut Meyerfreund e de autoridades da região.
No seu pronunciamento, o cônsul geral da Alemanha disse que os descendentes de alemães espalhados pelo mundo são os melhores embaixadores da Alemanha. “Quando vejo as crianças com trajes típicos, as danças tradicionais, me sinto orgulhoso pelo meu país, e queria felicitar a todos pelo que fazem para divulgar as tradições alemãs. Vocês são os melhores embaixadores da Alemanha”.
Sobre os 17 anos da Unidade Alemã, Hermann Erath lembrou o chanceler Helmut Kohl, que disse ser esse o presente do século para os alemães. “A Unidade Alemã é símbolo de esperança, de paz e de unidade não somente da Alemanha, mas de toda a Europa”, afirmou.
Esta é a primeira visita do cônsul geral da Alemanha no Rio de Janeiro, Hermann Erath, ao Espírito Santo. Na segunda-feira, acompanhado pelo cônsul honorário Joern Duus, ele se encontra com o governador Paulo Hartung para uma visita de cortesia. Depois, participa de uma reunião com o reitor Manoel Ceciliano Salles de Almeida, da Universidade de Vila Velha (UVV), para discutir um intercâmbio entre a universidade capixaba e universidades alemãs.
IMIGRAÇÃO
Os alemães foram os primeiros imigrantes a chegar ao Espírito Santo, em 1847. A bordo do navio Philomena, o primeiro grupo saiu do porto de Antuérpia, na Bélgica, no dia 20 de outubro de 1846, com destino ao Rio de Janeiro. Do Rio, os 108 imigrantes da região do Hunsrück, na Alemanha, iriam para o Sul do País, onde grupos de imigrantes alemães já haviam se estabelecido.
No entanto, D. Pedro II, imperador do Brasil e grande incentivador da vinda de imigrantes, resolveu enviar o grupo recém-chegado ao Espírito Santo. Como as terras ainda não haviam sido demarcadas, os alemães permaneceram em Vitória durante quase três meses, período em que mais dois navios chegaram à cidade trazendo alemães da região de Hunsrück.
Em março de 1847, com a demarcação das terras pelo governo imperial, um grupo de 167 pessoas subiu o rio Jucu fundando a colônia de Santa Isabel e dando início, assim, à colonização alemã no Espírito Santo. O grupo era formado por 39 famílias – 26 luteranas e 13 católicas – e cada uma recebeu do governo 50 hectares de terra para o cultivo e uma ajuda de custo em forma de empréstimo.
Nota BrasilAlemanha/Neues: A respeito da imigração alemã no Espírito Santo, está sendo lançado o livro "Imigrante, a duras penas", de Ivan Seibel - uma maravilhosa ambientação das dificuldades, lutas e vitórias de uma família alemã que passava muitas privações na região do Hunsrück, na Alemanha, e acabou se estabelecendo no Espírito Santo, Brasil, em 1859.
Faltam-nos, no momento, os contatos do autor, que nos disponibilizou, no início do ano, uma prévia do livro em encadernação ainda espiralada e em CD, praticamente pronto para sua edição definitiva. Dizia na contracapa: "A pesquisa histórica e a narrativa do autor concentram-se em pequeno grupo de pessoas da Europa central, que, cansado do longo sofrimento pela falta de trabalho e suas implicações na sobrevivência decide pela emigração para a América. O sonho logo se transforma em pesadelo ao se verem desembarcados na selva de terras estranhas e de um povo e língua desconhecidas. Jacob, o jovem idealista e sua família, apesar dos pesados tributos que a vida lhes cobra, depois de muito trabalho e com muita garra, consegue vencer os grandes desafios do novo mundo."
"Imigrante, a duras penas", 256 páginas, é, em síntese, um livro com inédita e sugestiva ambientação histórica das vicissitudes vividas na fase pré-emigração às margens do rio Reno e que continuariam palpitantes após desembarque em solo brasileiro. O livro é um romance da vida real da maioria dos imigrantes alemães que deixaram as agruras da fome, desemprego e guerras da Alemanha da época e que, aqui chegados, se confrontaram com desafios imensos, vencidos com pertinácia, disciplina e espírito associativo.
Aguardamos novo contato do autor Ivan Seibel, para a devida atualização das informações sobre seu livro. Por ora, pedidos de informação podem ser encaminhados para contato@brasilalemanha.com.br, para reencaminhamento ao autor.
Fonte: Luciana Coelho
E-mail: lucianac2@hotmail.com
Agência de Notícias Brasil-Alemanha.
Solenidade teve a presença do cônsul geral da Alemanha no Rio de Janeiro, em sua primeira visita oficial ao Estado.
Alemães e descendentes comemoraram nesta 6a. feira, 05, em Santa Maria, distrito de Marechal Floriano,ES, o Dia da Unidade Alemã e os 160 anos da Imigração Alemã no Estado. A festa teve a presença do cônsul geral da Alemanha no Rio de Janeiro, Hermann Erath, da vice-consulesa do Consulado Geral da Alemanha no Rio de Janeiro, Birgit Densch, do cônsul honorário da Alemanha no Espírito Santo, Joern Duus, do ex-cônsul Helmut Meyerfreund e de autoridades da região.
No seu pronunciamento, o cônsul geral da Alemanha disse que os descendentes de alemães espalhados pelo mundo são os melhores embaixadores da Alemanha. “Quando vejo as crianças com trajes típicos, as danças tradicionais, me sinto orgulhoso pelo meu país, e queria felicitar a todos pelo que fazem para divulgar as tradições alemãs. Vocês são os melhores embaixadores da Alemanha”.
Sobre os 17 anos da Unidade Alemã, Hermann Erath lembrou o chanceler Helmut Kohl, que disse ser esse o presente do século para os alemães. “A Unidade Alemã é símbolo de esperança, de paz e de unidade não somente da Alemanha, mas de toda a Europa”, afirmou.
Esta é a primeira visita do cônsul geral da Alemanha no Rio de Janeiro, Hermann Erath, ao Espírito Santo. Na segunda-feira, acompanhado pelo cônsul honorário Joern Duus, ele se encontra com o governador Paulo Hartung para uma visita de cortesia. Depois, participa de uma reunião com o reitor Manoel Ceciliano Salles de Almeida, da Universidade de Vila Velha (UVV), para discutir um intercâmbio entre a universidade capixaba e universidades alemãs.
IMIGRAÇÃO
Os alemães foram os primeiros imigrantes a chegar ao Espírito Santo, em 1847. A bordo do navio Philomena, o primeiro grupo saiu do porto de Antuérpia, na Bélgica, no dia 20 de outubro de 1846, com destino ao Rio de Janeiro. Do Rio, os 108 imigrantes da região do Hunsrück, na Alemanha, iriam para o Sul do País, onde grupos de imigrantes alemães já haviam se estabelecido.
No entanto, D. Pedro II, imperador do Brasil e grande incentivador da vinda de imigrantes, resolveu enviar o grupo recém-chegado ao Espírito Santo. Como as terras ainda não haviam sido demarcadas, os alemães permaneceram em Vitória durante quase três meses, período em que mais dois navios chegaram à cidade trazendo alemães da região de Hunsrück.
Em março de 1847, com a demarcação das terras pelo governo imperial, um grupo de 167 pessoas subiu o rio Jucu fundando a colônia de Santa Isabel e dando início, assim, à colonização alemã no Espírito Santo. O grupo era formado por 39 famílias – 26 luteranas e 13 católicas – e cada uma recebeu do governo 50 hectares de terra para o cultivo e uma ajuda de custo em forma de empréstimo.
Nota BrasilAlemanha/Neues: A respeito da imigração alemã no Espírito Santo, está sendo lançado o livro "Imigrante, a duras penas", de Ivan Seibel - uma maravilhosa ambientação das dificuldades, lutas e vitórias de uma família alemã que passava muitas privações na região do Hunsrück, na Alemanha, e acabou se estabelecendo no Espírito Santo, Brasil, em 1859.
Faltam-nos, no momento, os contatos do autor, que nos disponibilizou, no início do ano, uma prévia do livro em encadernação ainda espiralada e em CD, praticamente pronto para sua edição definitiva. Dizia na contracapa: "A pesquisa histórica e a narrativa do autor concentram-se em pequeno grupo de pessoas da Europa central, que, cansado do longo sofrimento pela falta de trabalho e suas implicações na sobrevivência decide pela emigração para a América. O sonho logo se transforma em pesadelo ao se verem desembarcados na selva de terras estranhas e de um povo e língua desconhecidas. Jacob, o jovem idealista e sua família, apesar dos pesados tributos que a vida lhes cobra, depois de muito trabalho e com muita garra, consegue vencer os grandes desafios do novo mundo."
"Imigrante, a duras penas", 256 páginas, é, em síntese, um livro com inédita e sugestiva ambientação histórica das vicissitudes vividas na fase pré-emigração às margens do rio Reno e que continuariam palpitantes após desembarque em solo brasileiro. O livro é um romance da vida real da maioria dos imigrantes alemães que deixaram as agruras da fome, desemprego e guerras da Alemanha da época e que, aqui chegados, se confrontaram com desafios imensos, vencidos com pertinácia, disciplina e espírito associativo.
Aguardamos novo contato do autor Ivan Seibel, para a devida atualização das informações sobre seu livro. Por ora, pedidos de informação podem ser encaminhados para contato@brasilalemanha.com.br, para reencaminhamento ao autor.
Fonte: Luciana Coelho
E-mail: lucianac2@hotmail.com
Agência de Notícias Brasil-Alemanha.
segunda-feira, 24 de setembro de 2007
777) Are Diplomats Necessary?
Are Diplomats Necessary?
By Brian Urquhart
The New York Review of Books, Volume 54, Number 15 · October 11, 2007
Book review:
Independent Diplomat: Dispatches from an Unaccountable Elite
by Carne Ross
Cornell University Press, 243 pp., $25.00
1.
Diplomacy is one of the world's oldest professions, although diplomatic practice as we know it is a relatively recent development. Using ambassadors and envoys, often distinguished personalities of the time (Dante, Machiavelli, Peter Paul Rubens), was an accepted practice throughout recorded history. It was also regarded, in Europe at least, as "a kind of activity morally somewhat suspect and incapable of being brought under any system."[1]
The establishment of the international rules of diplomacy, including the immunity of diplomats,[2] began with the Congresses of Vienna (1815) and Aix-la-Chapelle (1818). The rules were a European creation gradually adopted in the rest of the world. Further international conventions update them from time to time. Diplomats have enjoyed a surprising degree of immunity from criticism for the often violent and disorderly state of international affairs.
The history of diplomacy abounds with double-edged bons mots on the nature of ambassadors and diplomacy: "honorable spy"; "splendide mendax"; "a process of haggling, conducted with an utter disregard of the ordinary standards of morality, but with the most exquisite politeness"; and the sixteenth-century Sir Henry Wotton's famous comment, allegedly in jest, that "an ambassador is an honest man sent to lie abroad for the good of his country."In Independent Diplomat, Carne Ross has little patience with the qualified admiration and curiosity with which ambassadors have traditionally been regarded. He tells the story of the disillusionment and rebirth—also in diplomacy—of a fifteen-year veteran of one of the most internationally respected diplomatic establishments, the British Foreign Service.
HUP/A Secular Age
Many Englishmen, particularly of my generation, have an ingrained distrust, mixed with reluctant admiration, for the British Foreign Office, now the Foreign and Commonwealth Office. We remember the disastrous 1930s, the failure to impose preventive sanctions on Mussolini's Italy when it invaded Abyssinia, or to oppose Hitler's occupation of the Rhineland, and the nonintervention policy in Spain. We recall the lack of response to members of the German General Staff who desperately sought British and French support in deposing Hitler while he was still relatively weak. My lifelong dislike of the word "unrealistic," often used to discredit bold ideas, dates from that time. Perhaps equally unfairly, we criticize the Foreign Office for failing to head off hopelessly misconceived plans like the 1956 Suez expedition or the 2003 invasion of Iraq.
Carne Ross's book has a firsthand quality that deserves attention. Many of his criticisms and suggestions are by no means new, but his growing disaffection with diplomacy and diplomats should stimulate serious critical thinking about the conduct of international affairs. On the other hand, his use of generalized stereotypes does not inspire confidence.
To take one small instance, describing a coldhearted, hierarchical desert of diplomats and Secretariat members at the UN headquarters in New York, he writes that "to meet...an Under-Secretary of the UN, you must yourself enjoy an equivalent rank in diplomacy or politics...." I strongly doubt this. During the time of my mentor and predecessor, Ralph Bunche, and in the fourteen years that I was a UN undersecretary-general, we actively encouraged outsiders and junior officials to visit us, not least because they were much more stimulating and informative than most ambassadors or ministers. I know of subsequent under- secretaries who have done the same.
In the same paragraph Ross writes, "Like Versailles' inner sanctum, the Secretary-General's suite lies in the most remote and inaccessible part of the Secretariat building." This is the purest flapdoodle. The UN headquarters building bears no resemblance whatsoever to Versailles. The secretary-general's office is on the thirty-eighth floor of a modern thirty-eight-story structure, and is accessible by no fewer than six elevators that also serve the rest of the building. It is true that the secretary-general's inhumanly busy program makes scheduling appointments very tight, but that is hardly a personal choice of the secretary-general.
Ross's account of the quirks, attitudes, conceits, and habits of British diplomats and the Foreign Office echoes a favorite minor theme of twentieth-century British novelists— the use of diplomatic language to soften disagreeable truths: the "us" and "them" view of the outside world; the pervasive complacency that comes from the sense of "the Office's" wisdom and superior judgment; the ritual significance attached to the drafting of telegrams; the carefully constructed barriers against confronting harsh realities; and the cherished illusion of a rational and essentially orderly world controlled by governments. Certainly diplomatic habit often blocks a forth-right approach to international crises. In times of violence and acute human suffering, diplomatic niceties and hy-pocrisies in the UN Security Council can be enraging and can lead to inexcusable inaction or delay. But in a world organization still based on sovereign nations, what is a better alternative?
Ross's attempt to describe the stereotypical "ambassador" is the ironic climax of his indictment of his former profession:
His demeanour is friendly but grave. His expression says that he is a man to be taken seriously: he has much on his mind. He may frown but he will never grimace. He may raise his voice, but he will never shout. Measure is his mien. In all things, measure.
The quintessential quality of these paladins of their profession is, apparently, "balance," "not going too far," and not transgressing the borders of the state system and approved "facts." The ambassador must be a "realist," skeptical of moral enthusiasm or strong measures; he must also appear to be dedicated, in principle at least, to international law and human rights.
Ross describes his "slow descent from illusion to disillusionment." His final British posting was in 1997 to the British UN delegation in New York and at the end of it, in late 2003, he was lent to the UN team in Kosovo. During the run-up to the 2003 inva-sion of Iraq he earned, he writes, a "Rottweiler-like reputation...as the most effective and aggressive defender of British-American Iraq policy, sanctions and all."
The Security Council negotiations leading up to the US invasion of Iraq were the catalyst for Ross's final disillusionment. He recalls the intensive discussions about the draconian sanctions imposed on Iraq in early 1991. There was a basic inability to agree on the facts of the case. Britain and the United States held continued sanctions to be essential for international security; France and Russia maintained that sanctions were causing unnecessary suffering, particularly shortages of food and medical supplies, to the inhabitants of Iraq. UNICEF had calculated that 500,000 Iraqi children had died as a result of sanctions.
Ross was in the group of mid-level diplomats appointed by the Security Council to work on this problem. With no Iraqi representatives present and no accurate sense of what was going on in Iraq, the group was reduced, in Ross's words, to the "absurd spectacle of each side quoting supposedly impartial UN reports at one another." "There is," he writes, "something very wrong about sitting around a table in New York arguing about how many children are dying in Iraq and whose fault it was." He does not, however, suggest a better method of resolving the conflicting political and humanitarian problems involved in sanctions.
Ross is not reticent about the fact that he was good at his job. He mentions that most ministers did not understand the fiendish complications of sanctions. One British minister, who was trying to sell a British proposal to the Russian foreign secretary, asked Ross for a written brief; Ross responded with twenty pages. "He read it that night and the next day deployed it to devastating effect. [Russian Foreign Minister] Ivanov appeared completely stunned."
Ross increasingly felt that "all of us were failing in our responsibility under the UN charter to maximise security and minimise suffering." "It is," he writes,
far too disconcerting a prospect for governments or the diplomats who represent them to analyse or talk about the world as it really is, one shaped and affected by multitudinous and complex forces, among which governments are but one group of many involved.
Can the UN Security Council, still largely controlled by the original five permanent members, be relied on to deal justly and expeditiously with really critical problems? On Iraq, and on many other questions, mutual trust, especially among the permanent members, tends to evaporate quickly. France and Russia, although they based their case on humanitarian grounds, also had strong economic motives for lifting the Iraq sanctions, and both soon concluded that the Bush administration would never allow that to happen.
In 1998 the International Atomic Energy Agency reported that Iraq had fulfilled all its obligations relating to nuclear weapons except for two minor issues. The United States and Britain refused to agree to any public statement on this important development. According to Ross, the Americans told the British that, for domestic political reasons, the administration could not agree to any public suggestion that Saddam Hussein was doing what he was supposed to do.
The Russian ambassador, Sergei Lavrov, felt that he had been lied to. Richard Butler, then head of the UN inspectors in Iraq (UNSCOM), had stated in Moscow that Saddam Hussein was cooperating with the UN inspectors, but in New York he had issued a report saying exactly the opposite. In 1998 the US and Britain insisted on yet another Security Council resolution demanding Iraq's full cooperation with UNSCOM. Lavrov asked the British if they regarded the resolution as authorizing the use of force if Iraq did not cooperate. The British replied that they did not, but when the UK and the US, in December 1998, launched Operation Desert Fox, an intensive aerial bombardment of targets in Iraq, the British quoted the resolution in legal justification of the bombing. The Chinese, French, and Russians, not unnaturally, saw such obfuscations as evidence of bad faith.
Carne Ross left the Foreign Service in September 2004. His account of this event is surprisingly meager. David Kelly, a British biological warfare expert who had been advising the British mission in New York, had told a British journalist that there were professional misgivings about Prime Minister Tony Blair's intelligence dossier on Iraq's alleged WMDs—the so-called "dodgy dossier." Confronted with an official investigation, Kelly committed suicide.[3] Ross was "appalled and enraged" by this tragedy. In June 2004, he submitted, from Kosovo, secret testimony to a British commission of inquiry into the use of intelligence on Iraq's WMD[4] :
I wrote down all that I thought about the war.... Once I had written it, I realised at last, after years of agonising, that I could no longer continue to work for the government.
It is puzzling that someone who felt so strongly did not reach this conclusion in March 2003, when the UK enthusiastically joined the US in invading Iraq. Ross sent the transcript of his testimony to the foreign secretary and the head of the Foreign Office; neither replied, and that, it seems, was that.
While working at the UN, Ross had been appalled by the disparity between the diplomatic resources of the rich and powerful countries—with their experienced officials and advisers, information, intelligence, and secure communications—and the hopelessly overstretched and inadequate resources of the poorer ones, particularly those, like Kosovo, which are trying to establish their claims to legitimacy through the UN. He also notes that groups who are ignored, or discriminated against, or cannot get a hearing often resort to violence. (The early treatment of the PLO, and its consequences, is an example of this tendency.) After leaving the British Foreign Service Ross set up a nonprofit advisory group, Independent Diplomat, to remedy this imbalance—"a diplomatic service for those who need it most." The only qualifications for receiving this group's assistance are respect for international law and human rights, and a democratic philosophy.
Ross obtained nongovernmental support for Independent Diplomat, although he was surprised to discover that large foundations, for whom human rights are a guiding principle, are skeptical of diplomats and question whether, driven by realpolitik to take inherently amoral positions on important questions, they do any good at all. Independent Diplomat's initial clients are Somaliland, Kosovo, whose claim to national independence is currently blocked in the Security Council by Russia, and Polisario, the exiled independence movement of Morocco-occupied Western Sahara. Ross's organization provides a much-needed service.
2.
Ross's fundamental complaint about diplomacy and the United Nations, that they are not democratic, is, strictly speaking, true. At a time when democratization has proved far more difficult and unpredictable than even its strongest promoters had foreseen, trying to introduce it at this stage at the international level is not a practical proposition, as Ross acknowledges. The European Parliament is made possible by common political, cultural, and social traditions, and common economic interests. The EU's members consist entirely of democracies. A universal world organization has none of these advantages.
Certainly international organizations, starting with the UN Security Council, should be more representative of the world they are serving. It is also important to keep alive the objective, however distant, of a dem-ocratic world organization in a democratic world. In 1945, Ernest Bevin, the postwar foreign secretary of the United Kingdom—a personality by no means starry-eyed or "unrealistic"— spoke of this in the debate on the UN Charter in the House of Commons. "We need," he said,
a new study for the purpose of creating a world assembly elected directly from the people of the world, as a whole, to whom the Governments who form the United Nations are responsible.... In the meantime, there must be no weakening of the institution which my right hon. Friends built in San Francisco.
A world people's assembly would not, Bevin continued, be a substitute for the UN, "but rather a completion or a development of it."[5] Not surprisingly, as the world split into two mutually hostile, nuclear-armed power blocs, this suggestion was not followed up, although in the intervening years, NGOs and others have kept the idea alive by suggesting various ways in which the UN might become more democratic.
In 1994 the late Erskine Childers and I wrote a short book with the self-explanatory title Renewing the United Nations System.[6] In a chapter entitled "Towards a More Democratic United Nations," we revisited Bevin's idea and sketched out how, eventually, a world people's assembly might be elected, be connected with the United Nations, and what it might do. Many of our other ideas were discussed, and some were even included in later UN reforms. About a democratically elected world assembly, however, the silence was total. Fifty years after World War II, governments seemed to be even less willing to consider the democratizing of international institutions than they were in 1945.
Although it begins with the words "We the peoples of the United Nations," there is no mention of democracy in the UN Charter. The UN is a strictly intergovernmental organization, and a place where national sovereignty—almost an anachronism in many other spheres of human activity—is rigidly protected. This unquestionably limits the scope and spontaneity of the organization. Sensitivity to any erosion of national sovereignty is a fundamental obstacle to reforms that would obviously improve the UN. A genuinely international, standing UN rapid deployment force, for instance, would vastly improve both the speed and the quality of the UN's response to crises, but the idea of this badly needed addition is now kept alive only by nongovernmental groups.[7] It seems likely that the aim of democratizing the UN, until it acquires determined and influential political advocates and worldwide popular support, will also have to survive through the efforts of nongovernmental organizations.
Carne Ross describes the lack of good faith and mutual confidence that often undermines negotiations within the Security Council. When the council works with a common purpose, its authority can be remarkably expeditious and effective, as it was, for example, in reacting to Saddam Hussein's invasion of Kuwait in 1990. Much of the time, however, national interests and differences easily outweigh a sense of international responsibility. In 1945 it seemed only logical that the five permanent members of the Security Council, the leaders of the alliance that had just won a long and desperate world war, would find it possible, even obligatory, to work together to secure the peace. In those early days many of us looked forward enthusiastically to the Security Council's first meetings, at which its five permanent members would rise above national differences and show the world a new model of international leadership and responsibility. The vitriolic public disputes that immediately erupted among the five in the Security Council were severely disillusioning. They persisted for over forty years.
Dag Hammarskjöld, who probably gave more thought than anyone to the future development of the United Nations, once spoke of "an opinion independent of partisan interests and dominated by the objectives indicated in the United Nations Charter."[8] A sense of international solidarity has in fact emerged in the UN approach to humanitarian problems such as distributing food and other assistance in disasters and to threats such as global warming (but not, as yet, nuclear proliferation). In debates on controversial political matters, however, that sense of international responsibility is often absent. Pending a true democratization of the world organization, it would be a major step forward for the Security Council and the UN as a whole if more nations were willing to frame their foreign policies with regard to the larger international interest. There are already a number of countries—the Nordic and some European nations, Costa Rica, and Canada among them—that try to conduct foreign policy in this spirit.
Carne Ross complains that, despite the revolutionary changes of the past sixty years, diplomatic machinery and modes of thinking are much the same as they were in the early nineteenth century. The "new politics" needed for a globalizing world and its difficulties does not exist. Ross concludes that diplomacy must give up its elite status and be brought down to earth to participate in the world as it actually is. Diplomatic generalists should give way to experts in trade, WMDs, global warming, and other fields that are beyond the grasp of diplomats. (Governments now usually resolve this difficulty by assigning experts to diplomatic missions when the situation demands, as the British government employed the scientist David Kelly to advise the UK delegation about WMDs in Iraq.)
Ross deplores the obsession of diplomats with secrecy, which, in his view, is mostly a way to preserve the mystique that gives them prestige and protects them from criticism. The argument that publicity will ruin "real diplomacy" is an old one. In the nineteenth century George Canning represented the "new diplomat" who sought public support for foreign policy through parliament and the press. The "old diplomat" Metternich described Canning as a "malevolent meteor hurled by divine providence upon Europe."[9]
Ross also deplores the statecentric, "realist" state of mind of his former colleagues and the resulting amoral and misleading view of a world over which governments are, in fact, steadily losing control. He claims that this way of thinking emphasizes differences by forcing negotiations to be conducted "in terms of nation-states and anachronistic and invented identities," which actually exacerbate conflict. An example was the debate on sanctions on Iraq in which diplomats seemed to have no hope of agreeing. However, the "control list" of items prohibited for export to Iraq was so technically complex that experts had to be called in. To the diplomats' amazement, the experts agreed quite easily on the list of what was potentially risky to export to Iraq.
Powerful embassies and plenipotentiary ambassadors were essential in a time when communication with the home capital could take weeks or months; they are less relevant in our world of instant communications. Ross suggests rather ungraciously that embassies are still needed "to organise ministers' visits and look after distressed travelers who lose their passports." On the other hand, it is hard to imagine how the United Nations would tackle its very wide agenda without the diplomatic missions that, for all the failings that Carne Ross describes, make up a skilled, permanent working group in New York. It was also diplomats who recently achieved a vital agreement with North Korea and, earlier, with Libya's Muammar Qaddafi. Who else could have done it?
In his closing pages Ross's argument unravels in a series of increasingly windy and confused propositions:
...For the ordinary public, the self-serving élitism and fake-omnipotence of the world's diplomats has created a comforting illusion: that they are in control, allowing the rest of us to get on with our lives.... The pact of irresponsibility must end. We must correspondingly take more responsibility for our own international affairs.... Every action, whether buying fruit, employing a cleaner, or choosing where to take your holiday is international, and is, in its way, a form of diplomacy. Everyone is a diplomat.
International business and commerce, according to Ross, have learned "this lesson." ExxonMobil has a large political department, and on his recent visit to the US, Chinese President Hu Jintao spent more time with Microsoft than on Capitol Hill. Ross admits that business and technology can "be as ambiguous in their effects as anything else." Politics will always interfere, as when Google, Yahoo, and Microsoft were all accused by Amnesty International of abetting censorship and repression in China. Those companies responded that they must abide by Chinese law.
"The solution," Ross writes,
is therefore obvious. These [private] forces must be pointed in the right direction if they are to be for the good. Effective foreign policy, whether in promoting labour rights or environmental standards, now requires coalitions of actors—the private sector, civil society and government—acting in concert to be effective. If foreign ministries are to be effective, even relevant, in the future, as propagators of policy and change they must consider how to organise such coalitions, and how to encompass, direct and inform these many different strands and effectors of policy.
How such an "obvious" policy could be successfully carried out by Western countries in China he does not say. A little later he writes:
The practice and process of diplomacy, then, needs to change into something much more diverse and eclectic, such that we perhaps shouldn't give it a collective name —such as diplomacy—at all.
What, I wonder, is the Independent Diplomat organization teaching its clients?
Ross's final pages deal in whirlwind succession with UN reform, NGOs, universal norms of behavior, diplomatic legitimacy, international law, a new "global politics," and global political parties, "elected in some way," which
can claim the fullest legitimacy to speak for people.... Only a global politics can lift us above the zero-sum games of governments shortsightedly arbitrating their "interests" in international forums.
He adds that he is not advocating the immediate establishment of a world parliament, and suggests advisory bodies of elected representatives to advise the General Assembly or the Security Council. Quite how such bodies would be elected and by whom is not clear.
The villain of Ross's polemic reemerges:
the unwarranted and unscrutinized power of unelected officials who deal—often badly—with ever more of our collective business. The only long-term answer is for elected representatives to take their place.
Again, how? And elected by whom? And are these putative elections, which will inevitably become politicized, likely to produce more able and public-spirited diplomats and international officials than a rigorous selection process conducted by responsible, nonpolitical, appointed senior officials? I very much doubt it. The longstanding principle that civil servants, national and international, are not elected by political bodies has decisively proved its importance. In my experience, the best diplomats already have a strong sense of global priorities, although that is not necessarily what their governments pay them for. Members of the UN Secretariat must have such a view. The leadership and independence of the secretary-general and the competence, discipline, and integrity of the Secretariat are vital to the functioning of the UN.
Diplomacy has a long and important history. Recently there was a sigh of relief around the world when the United States, after disastrous experiments with military confrontation, gave some sign that it was willing to return to diplomacy as a main instrument of foreign policy. Diplomacy and diplomats have often aroused suspicion, even ridicule, but they still serve an essential purpose. There is, at present, no obvious alternative.
Notes:
[1] Walter Alison Phillips, of Merton and St. John's colleges, Oxford, in a lively contribution to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, eleventh edition (1910), Vol. 8, p. 294.
[2] On the need for this most vital of diplomatic rights, Phillips mentions in the Encyclopaedia Britannica "the habit of the Ottoman government of imprisoning in the Seven Towers the ambassador of a power with which it quarrelled," p. 299.
[3] See my article "Hidden Truths," The New York Review, March 25, 2004.
[4] Ross's testimony was published in December 2006 by The Independent, London.
[5] Parliamentary Debates (Hansard), Fifth Series, Vol. 416 (London: HMSO, 1946), p. 786.
[6] Published by the Dag Hammarskjöld Foundation with support from the Ford Foundation, 1994.
[7] For example, A United Nations Emergency Peace Service, published in 2006 with the support of Global Action to Prevent War, the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation, and the World Federalist Movement.
[8] Speech in Copenhagen, SG/812, May 2, 1959.
[9] Encyclopaedia Britannica, eleventh edition, Vol. 8, p. 295.
By Brian Urquhart
The New York Review of Books, Volume 54, Number 15 · October 11, 2007
Book review:
Independent Diplomat: Dispatches from an Unaccountable Elite
by Carne Ross
Cornell University Press, 243 pp., $25.00
1.
Diplomacy is one of the world's oldest professions, although diplomatic practice as we know it is a relatively recent development. Using ambassadors and envoys, often distinguished personalities of the time (Dante, Machiavelli, Peter Paul Rubens), was an accepted practice throughout recorded history. It was also regarded, in Europe at least, as "a kind of activity morally somewhat suspect and incapable of being brought under any system."[1]
The establishment of the international rules of diplomacy, including the immunity of diplomats,[2] began with the Congresses of Vienna (1815) and Aix-la-Chapelle (1818). The rules were a European creation gradually adopted in the rest of the world. Further international conventions update them from time to time. Diplomats have enjoyed a surprising degree of immunity from criticism for the often violent and disorderly state of international affairs.
The history of diplomacy abounds with double-edged bons mots on the nature of ambassadors and diplomacy: "honorable spy"; "splendide mendax"; "a process of haggling, conducted with an utter disregard of the ordinary standards of morality, but with the most exquisite politeness"; and the sixteenth-century Sir Henry Wotton's famous comment, allegedly in jest, that "an ambassador is an honest man sent to lie abroad for the good of his country."In Independent Diplomat, Carne Ross has little patience with the qualified admiration and curiosity with which ambassadors have traditionally been regarded. He tells the story of the disillusionment and rebirth—also in diplomacy—of a fifteen-year veteran of one of the most internationally respected diplomatic establishments, the British Foreign Service.
HUP/A Secular Age
Many Englishmen, particularly of my generation, have an ingrained distrust, mixed with reluctant admiration, for the British Foreign Office, now the Foreign and Commonwealth Office. We remember the disastrous 1930s, the failure to impose preventive sanctions on Mussolini's Italy when it invaded Abyssinia, or to oppose Hitler's occupation of the Rhineland, and the nonintervention policy in Spain. We recall the lack of response to members of the German General Staff who desperately sought British and French support in deposing Hitler while he was still relatively weak. My lifelong dislike of the word "unrealistic," often used to discredit bold ideas, dates from that time. Perhaps equally unfairly, we criticize the Foreign Office for failing to head off hopelessly misconceived plans like the 1956 Suez expedition or the 2003 invasion of Iraq.
Carne Ross's book has a firsthand quality that deserves attention. Many of his criticisms and suggestions are by no means new, but his growing disaffection with diplomacy and diplomats should stimulate serious critical thinking about the conduct of international affairs. On the other hand, his use of generalized stereotypes does not inspire confidence.
To take one small instance, describing a coldhearted, hierarchical desert of diplomats and Secretariat members at the UN headquarters in New York, he writes that "to meet...an Under-Secretary of the UN, you must yourself enjoy an equivalent rank in diplomacy or politics...." I strongly doubt this. During the time of my mentor and predecessor, Ralph Bunche, and in the fourteen years that I was a UN undersecretary-general, we actively encouraged outsiders and junior officials to visit us, not least because they were much more stimulating and informative than most ambassadors or ministers. I know of subsequent under- secretaries who have done the same.
In the same paragraph Ross writes, "Like Versailles' inner sanctum, the Secretary-General's suite lies in the most remote and inaccessible part of the Secretariat building." This is the purest flapdoodle. The UN headquarters building bears no resemblance whatsoever to Versailles. The secretary-general's office is on the thirty-eighth floor of a modern thirty-eight-story structure, and is accessible by no fewer than six elevators that also serve the rest of the building. It is true that the secretary-general's inhumanly busy program makes scheduling appointments very tight, but that is hardly a personal choice of the secretary-general.
Ross's account of the quirks, attitudes, conceits, and habits of British diplomats and the Foreign Office echoes a favorite minor theme of twentieth-century British novelists— the use of diplomatic language to soften disagreeable truths: the "us" and "them" view of the outside world; the pervasive complacency that comes from the sense of "the Office's" wisdom and superior judgment; the ritual significance attached to the drafting of telegrams; the carefully constructed barriers against confronting harsh realities; and the cherished illusion of a rational and essentially orderly world controlled by governments. Certainly diplomatic habit often blocks a forth-right approach to international crises. In times of violence and acute human suffering, diplomatic niceties and hy-pocrisies in the UN Security Council can be enraging and can lead to inexcusable inaction or delay. But in a world organization still based on sovereign nations, what is a better alternative?
Ross's attempt to describe the stereotypical "ambassador" is the ironic climax of his indictment of his former profession:
His demeanour is friendly but grave. His expression says that he is a man to be taken seriously: he has much on his mind. He may frown but he will never grimace. He may raise his voice, but he will never shout. Measure is his mien. In all things, measure.
The quintessential quality of these paladins of their profession is, apparently, "balance," "not going too far," and not transgressing the borders of the state system and approved "facts." The ambassador must be a "realist," skeptical of moral enthusiasm or strong measures; he must also appear to be dedicated, in principle at least, to international law and human rights.
Ross describes his "slow descent from illusion to disillusionment." His final British posting was in 1997 to the British UN delegation in New York and at the end of it, in late 2003, he was lent to the UN team in Kosovo. During the run-up to the 2003 inva-sion of Iraq he earned, he writes, a "Rottweiler-like reputation...as the most effective and aggressive defender of British-American Iraq policy, sanctions and all."
The Security Council negotiations leading up to the US invasion of Iraq were the catalyst for Ross's final disillusionment. He recalls the intensive discussions about the draconian sanctions imposed on Iraq in early 1991. There was a basic inability to agree on the facts of the case. Britain and the United States held continued sanctions to be essential for international security; France and Russia maintained that sanctions were causing unnecessary suffering, particularly shortages of food and medical supplies, to the inhabitants of Iraq. UNICEF had calculated that 500,000 Iraqi children had died as a result of sanctions.
Ross was in the group of mid-level diplomats appointed by the Security Council to work on this problem. With no Iraqi representatives present and no accurate sense of what was going on in Iraq, the group was reduced, in Ross's words, to the "absurd spectacle of each side quoting supposedly impartial UN reports at one another." "There is," he writes, "something very wrong about sitting around a table in New York arguing about how many children are dying in Iraq and whose fault it was." He does not, however, suggest a better method of resolving the conflicting political and humanitarian problems involved in sanctions.
Ross is not reticent about the fact that he was good at his job. He mentions that most ministers did not understand the fiendish complications of sanctions. One British minister, who was trying to sell a British proposal to the Russian foreign secretary, asked Ross for a written brief; Ross responded with twenty pages. "He read it that night and the next day deployed it to devastating effect. [Russian Foreign Minister] Ivanov appeared completely stunned."
Ross increasingly felt that "all of us were failing in our responsibility under the UN charter to maximise security and minimise suffering." "It is," he writes,
far too disconcerting a prospect for governments or the diplomats who represent them to analyse or talk about the world as it really is, one shaped and affected by multitudinous and complex forces, among which governments are but one group of many involved.
Can the UN Security Council, still largely controlled by the original five permanent members, be relied on to deal justly and expeditiously with really critical problems? On Iraq, and on many other questions, mutual trust, especially among the permanent members, tends to evaporate quickly. France and Russia, although they based their case on humanitarian grounds, also had strong economic motives for lifting the Iraq sanctions, and both soon concluded that the Bush administration would never allow that to happen.
In 1998 the International Atomic Energy Agency reported that Iraq had fulfilled all its obligations relating to nuclear weapons except for two minor issues. The United States and Britain refused to agree to any public statement on this important development. According to Ross, the Americans told the British that, for domestic political reasons, the administration could not agree to any public suggestion that Saddam Hussein was doing what he was supposed to do.
The Russian ambassador, Sergei Lavrov, felt that he had been lied to. Richard Butler, then head of the UN inspectors in Iraq (UNSCOM), had stated in Moscow that Saddam Hussein was cooperating with the UN inspectors, but in New York he had issued a report saying exactly the opposite. In 1998 the US and Britain insisted on yet another Security Council resolution demanding Iraq's full cooperation with UNSCOM. Lavrov asked the British if they regarded the resolution as authorizing the use of force if Iraq did not cooperate. The British replied that they did not, but when the UK and the US, in December 1998, launched Operation Desert Fox, an intensive aerial bombardment of targets in Iraq, the British quoted the resolution in legal justification of the bombing. The Chinese, French, and Russians, not unnaturally, saw such obfuscations as evidence of bad faith.
Carne Ross left the Foreign Service in September 2004. His account of this event is surprisingly meager. David Kelly, a British biological warfare expert who had been advising the British mission in New York, had told a British journalist that there were professional misgivings about Prime Minister Tony Blair's intelligence dossier on Iraq's alleged WMDs—the so-called "dodgy dossier." Confronted with an official investigation, Kelly committed suicide.[3] Ross was "appalled and enraged" by this tragedy. In June 2004, he submitted, from Kosovo, secret testimony to a British commission of inquiry into the use of intelligence on Iraq's WMD[4] :
I wrote down all that I thought about the war.... Once I had written it, I realised at last, after years of agonising, that I could no longer continue to work for the government.
It is puzzling that someone who felt so strongly did not reach this conclusion in March 2003, when the UK enthusiastically joined the US in invading Iraq. Ross sent the transcript of his testimony to the foreign secretary and the head of the Foreign Office; neither replied, and that, it seems, was that.
While working at the UN, Ross had been appalled by the disparity between the diplomatic resources of the rich and powerful countries—with their experienced officials and advisers, information, intelligence, and secure communications—and the hopelessly overstretched and inadequate resources of the poorer ones, particularly those, like Kosovo, which are trying to establish their claims to legitimacy through the UN. He also notes that groups who are ignored, or discriminated against, or cannot get a hearing often resort to violence. (The early treatment of the PLO, and its consequences, is an example of this tendency.) After leaving the British Foreign Service Ross set up a nonprofit advisory group, Independent Diplomat, to remedy this imbalance—"a diplomatic service for those who need it most." The only qualifications for receiving this group's assistance are respect for international law and human rights, and a democratic philosophy.
Ross obtained nongovernmental support for Independent Diplomat, although he was surprised to discover that large foundations, for whom human rights are a guiding principle, are skeptical of diplomats and question whether, driven by realpolitik to take inherently amoral positions on important questions, they do any good at all. Independent Diplomat's initial clients are Somaliland, Kosovo, whose claim to national independence is currently blocked in the Security Council by Russia, and Polisario, the exiled independence movement of Morocco-occupied Western Sahara. Ross's organization provides a much-needed service.
2.
Ross's fundamental complaint about diplomacy and the United Nations, that they are not democratic, is, strictly speaking, true. At a time when democratization has proved far more difficult and unpredictable than even its strongest promoters had foreseen, trying to introduce it at this stage at the international level is not a practical proposition, as Ross acknowledges. The European Parliament is made possible by common political, cultural, and social traditions, and common economic interests. The EU's members consist entirely of democracies. A universal world organization has none of these advantages.
Certainly international organizations, starting with the UN Security Council, should be more representative of the world they are serving. It is also important to keep alive the objective, however distant, of a dem-ocratic world organization in a democratic world. In 1945, Ernest Bevin, the postwar foreign secretary of the United Kingdom—a personality by no means starry-eyed or "unrealistic"— spoke of this in the debate on the UN Charter in the House of Commons. "We need," he said,
a new study for the purpose of creating a world assembly elected directly from the people of the world, as a whole, to whom the Governments who form the United Nations are responsible.... In the meantime, there must be no weakening of the institution which my right hon. Friends built in San Francisco.
A world people's assembly would not, Bevin continued, be a substitute for the UN, "but rather a completion or a development of it."[5] Not surprisingly, as the world split into two mutually hostile, nuclear-armed power blocs, this suggestion was not followed up, although in the intervening years, NGOs and others have kept the idea alive by suggesting various ways in which the UN might become more democratic.
In 1994 the late Erskine Childers and I wrote a short book with the self-explanatory title Renewing the United Nations System.[6] In a chapter entitled "Towards a More Democratic United Nations," we revisited Bevin's idea and sketched out how, eventually, a world people's assembly might be elected, be connected with the United Nations, and what it might do. Many of our other ideas were discussed, and some were even included in later UN reforms. About a democratically elected world assembly, however, the silence was total. Fifty years after World War II, governments seemed to be even less willing to consider the democratizing of international institutions than they were in 1945.
Although it begins with the words "We the peoples of the United Nations," there is no mention of democracy in the UN Charter. The UN is a strictly intergovernmental organization, and a place where national sovereignty—almost an anachronism in many other spheres of human activity—is rigidly protected. This unquestionably limits the scope and spontaneity of the organization. Sensitivity to any erosion of national sovereignty is a fundamental obstacle to reforms that would obviously improve the UN. A genuinely international, standing UN rapid deployment force, for instance, would vastly improve both the speed and the quality of the UN's response to crises, but the idea of this badly needed addition is now kept alive only by nongovernmental groups.[7] It seems likely that the aim of democratizing the UN, until it acquires determined and influential political advocates and worldwide popular support, will also have to survive through the efforts of nongovernmental organizations.
Carne Ross describes the lack of good faith and mutual confidence that often undermines negotiations within the Security Council. When the council works with a common purpose, its authority can be remarkably expeditious and effective, as it was, for example, in reacting to Saddam Hussein's invasion of Kuwait in 1990. Much of the time, however, national interests and differences easily outweigh a sense of international responsibility. In 1945 it seemed only logical that the five permanent members of the Security Council, the leaders of the alliance that had just won a long and desperate world war, would find it possible, even obligatory, to work together to secure the peace. In those early days many of us looked forward enthusiastically to the Security Council's first meetings, at which its five permanent members would rise above national differences and show the world a new model of international leadership and responsibility. The vitriolic public disputes that immediately erupted among the five in the Security Council were severely disillusioning. They persisted for over forty years.
Dag Hammarskjöld, who probably gave more thought than anyone to the future development of the United Nations, once spoke of "an opinion independent of partisan interests and dominated by the objectives indicated in the United Nations Charter."[8] A sense of international solidarity has in fact emerged in the UN approach to humanitarian problems such as distributing food and other assistance in disasters and to threats such as global warming (but not, as yet, nuclear proliferation). In debates on controversial political matters, however, that sense of international responsibility is often absent. Pending a true democratization of the world organization, it would be a major step forward for the Security Council and the UN as a whole if more nations were willing to frame their foreign policies with regard to the larger international interest. There are already a number of countries—the Nordic and some European nations, Costa Rica, and Canada among them—that try to conduct foreign policy in this spirit.
Carne Ross complains that, despite the revolutionary changes of the past sixty years, diplomatic machinery and modes of thinking are much the same as they were in the early nineteenth century. The "new politics" needed for a globalizing world and its difficulties does not exist. Ross concludes that diplomacy must give up its elite status and be brought down to earth to participate in the world as it actually is. Diplomatic generalists should give way to experts in trade, WMDs, global warming, and other fields that are beyond the grasp of diplomats. (Governments now usually resolve this difficulty by assigning experts to diplomatic missions when the situation demands, as the British government employed the scientist David Kelly to advise the UK delegation about WMDs in Iraq.)
Ross deplores the obsession of diplomats with secrecy, which, in his view, is mostly a way to preserve the mystique that gives them prestige and protects them from criticism. The argument that publicity will ruin "real diplomacy" is an old one. In the nineteenth century George Canning represented the "new diplomat" who sought public support for foreign policy through parliament and the press. The "old diplomat" Metternich described Canning as a "malevolent meteor hurled by divine providence upon Europe."[9]
Ross also deplores the statecentric, "realist" state of mind of his former colleagues and the resulting amoral and misleading view of a world over which governments are, in fact, steadily losing control. He claims that this way of thinking emphasizes differences by forcing negotiations to be conducted "in terms of nation-states and anachronistic and invented identities," which actually exacerbate conflict. An example was the debate on sanctions on Iraq in which diplomats seemed to have no hope of agreeing. However, the "control list" of items prohibited for export to Iraq was so technically complex that experts had to be called in. To the diplomats' amazement, the experts agreed quite easily on the list of what was potentially risky to export to Iraq.
Powerful embassies and plenipotentiary ambassadors were essential in a time when communication with the home capital could take weeks or months; they are less relevant in our world of instant communications. Ross suggests rather ungraciously that embassies are still needed "to organise ministers' visits and look after distressed travelers who lose their passports." On the other hand, it is hard to imagine how the United Nations would tackle its very wide agenda without the diplomatic missions that, for all the failings that Carne Ross describes, make up a skilled, permanent working group in New York. It was also diplomats who recently achieved a vital agreement with North Korea and, earlier, with Libya's Muammar Qaddafi. Who else could have done it?
In his closing pages Ross's argument unravels in a series of increasingly windy and confused propositions:
...For the ordinary public, the self-serving élitism and fake-omnipotence of the world's diplomats has created a comforting illusion: that they are in control, allowing the rest of us to get on with our lives.... The pact of irresponsibility must end. We must correspondingly take more responsibility for our own international affairs.... Every action, whether buying fruit, employing a cleaner, or choosing where to take your holiday is international, and is, in its way, a form of diplomacy. Everyone is a diplomat.
International business and commerce, according to Ross, have learned "this lesson." ExxonMobil has a large political department, and on his recent visit to the US, Chinese President Hu Jintao spent more time with Microsoft than on Capitol Hill. Ross admits that business and technology can "be as ambiguous in their effects as anything else." Politics will always interfere, as when Google, Yahoo, and Microsoft were all accused by Amnesty International of abetting censorship and repression in China. Those companies responded that they must abide by Chinese law.
"The solution," Ross writes,
is therefore obvious. These [private] forces must be pointed in the right direction if they are to be for the good. Effective foreign policy, whether in promoting labour rights or environmental standards, now requires coalitions of actors—the private sector, civil society and government—acting in concert to be effective. If foreign ministries are to be effective, even relevant, in the future, as propagators of policy and change they must consider how to organise such coalitions, and how to encompass, direct and inform these many different strands and effectors of policy.
How such an "obvious" policy could be successfully carried out by Western countries in China he does not say. A little later he writes:
The practice and process of diplomacy, then, needs to change into something much more diverse and eclectic, such that we perhaps shouldn't give it a collective name —such as diplomacy—at all.
What, I wonder, is the Independent Diplomat organization teaching its clients?
Ross's final pages deal in whirlwind succession with UN reform, NGOs, universal norms of behavior, diplomatic legitimacy, international law, a new "global politics," and global political parties, "elected in some way," which
can claim the fullest legitimacy to speak for people.... Only a global politics can lift us above the zero-sum games of governments shortsightedly arbitrating their "interests" in international forums.
He adds that he is not advocating the immediate establishment of a world parliament, and suggests advisory bodies of elected representatives to advise the General Assembly or the Security Council. Quite how such bodies would be elected and by whom is not clear.
The villain of Ross's polemic reemerges:
the unwarranted and unscrutinized power of unelected officials who deal—often badly—with ever more of our collective business. The only long-term answer is for elected representatives to take their place.
Again, how? And elected by whom? And are these putative elections, which will inevitably become politicized, likely to produce more able and public-spirited diplomats and international officials than a rigorous selection process conducted by responsible, nonpolitical, appointed senior officials? I very much doubt it. The longstanding principle that civil servants, national and international, are not elected by political bodies has decisively proved its importance. In my experience, the best diplomats already have a strong sense of global priorities, although that is not necessarily what their governments pay them for. Members of the UN Secretariat must have such a view. The leadership and independence of the secretary-general and the competence, discipline, and integrity of the Secretariat are vital to the functioning of the UN.
Diplomacy has a long and important history. Recently there was a sigh of relief around the world when the United States, after disastrous experiments with military confrontation, gave some sign that it was willing to return to diplomacy as a main instrument of foreign policy. Diplomacy and diplomats have often aroused suspicion, even ridicule, but they still serve an essential purpose. There is, at present, no obvious alternative.
Notes:
[1] Walter Alison Phillips, of Merton and St. John's colleges, Oxford, in a lively contribution to the Encyclopaedia Britannica, eleventh edition (1910), Vol. 8, p. 294.
[2] On the need for this most vital of diplomatic rights, Phillips mentions in the Encyclopaedia Britannica "the habit of the Ottoman government of imprisoning in the Seven Towers the ambassador of a power with which it quarrelled," p. 299.
[3] See my article "Hidden Truths," The New York Review, March 25, 2004.
[4] Ross's testimony was published in December 2006 by The Independent, London.
[5] Parliamentary Debates (Hansard), Fifth Series, Vol. 416 (London: HMSO, 1946), p. 786.
[6] Published by the Dag Hammarskjöld Foundation with support from the Ford Foundation, 1994.
[7] For example, A United Nations Emergency Peace Service, published in 2006 with the support of Global Action to Prevent War, the Nuclear Age Peace Foundation, and the World Federalist Movement.
[8] Speech in Copenhagen, SG/812, May 2, 1959.
[9] Encyclopaedia Britannica, eleventh edition, Vol. 8, p. 295.
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