Speak Softly and Carry a Big Book

Tobias Bunde and Benedikt Franke

It is not easy to define diplomacy. What is its essence? Is it an art, a craft, or something in between? What is good diplomacy . . . what isn’t? As you will read in this book, there are manifold perspectives on diplomacy—and countless definitions, too. One of the most famous stems from President Theodore Roosevelt, who was known for his “big stick diplomacy” and described his diplomatic maxim by referring to a proverb: “speak softly and carry a big stick; you will go far.”1 For this book, we engaged in what can be called “big book diplomacy” and adopted an only slightly adapted version of Roosevelt’s dictum: speak softly and carry a big book. We hope it sticks.

The reason for this book is simple. In April 2021, Wolfgang Ischinger, our long-time boss and mentor at the Munich Security Conference and beyond, turned seventy five. To celebrate him and his lifetime achievements, we decided to compile seventy-five contributions about the art of diplomacy. Neither we—nor he—wanted this to be a book about him. We wanted to edit a book for him—and for all the others who, like him, believe in the power of diplomacy. Ceci n’est pas une Festschrift—or so we thought.

To end up with seventy-five contributions we decided to write to one hundred of Wolfgang’s closest associates and long-standing friends and partners and ask them to send us their favorite instructive anecdotes about the myriad ways in which diplomacy works. What we got back stunned us. For one, not seventy-five, but almost all one hundred immediately agreed to contribute. Second, despite our instructions to the contrary, almost everyone handed in anecdotes that included Wolfgang in one way or another. While we engaged in hefty “editing diplomacy” (try telling a sitting president to rewrite his contribution), it quickly became clear just how important personality and character are to a diplomat’s success. Without them, not much is possible. With them, almost everything is. As the many references to him we had to remove testify, Wolfgang Ischinger has both in abundance.

In a way, Wolfgang is the “Forrest Gump” of German diplomacy. Since the early 1980s, he has almost always been where the real action took place. Starting as a young diplomat in the office of then foreign minister Hans-Dietrich Genscher, he witnessed the heated debates about the deployment of Pershing II missiles in Germany and the ensuing détente that allowed the Cold War to end peacefully. At the end of the decade, he was one of the West German diplomats who accompanied the trains with East German refugees who had fled to the German Embassy in Prague. As head of the Political Department in the German embassy in Paris, he witnessed the birth of the Charter of Paris in 1990. As head of Policy Planning and political director of the Federal Foreign Office, he was in the midst of Germany making its first steps as a unified country trying to find its role in a different era. He represented Germany in the Contact Group during the Balkan Wars and was among the negotiators in the Dayton Peace Agreement. He also participated in the negotiation of the NATO-Russia Founding Act, another milestone of diplomacy in the 1990s. As state secretary, he played a key role in the negotiations that led to the creation of Operation Allied Force and the Balkan Stability Pact in 1999. Given this background, it is perhaps not surprising that he was the German ambassador in the United States on September 11, 2001. In fact, it was his first day in office. To this day, his reputation in the US still draws on the very special mark he left during his tenure in Washington, DC.

Following two years as ambassador to the Court of St. James’s, including a stint as the representative of the European Union in the Kosovo Troika that tried to find a solution to the status of Kosovo, in 2008 the German government asked Wolfgang to take over as chairman of the Munich Security Conference (MSC). He quickly breathed new life into this venerable organization that was founded by Ewald von Kleist as Wehrkundetagung in 1963, and over the years has become an indispensable family gathering for the transatlantic community. What started out as an annual conference, is now a highly efficient private diplomacy service provider and the world’s leading platform for the debate of foreign and security policy. Still transatlantic to its core, the MSC regularly hosts the world’s top decision makers on its stages around the world and publishes reports to draw attention to particular challenges. Almost all the pictures illustrating this book (in a way adding the art to the diplomacy) have been taken at MSC events over the past decade.

Even while steering the MSC through the last decade, Wolfgang continued to accept special diplomatic missions. For instance he served as the Representative of the OSCE Chairperson-in-Office for National Dialogue Roundtables in Ukraine and as the chairman of the Panel of Eminent Persons on European Security as a Common Project, as well as in countless track two efforts or expert commissions, trying to find peaceful solutions to difficult problems—from nuclear arms control to cybersecurity. In each of these roles, he could rely on his key strengths, which make him the quintessential diplomat—his readiness to engage, to listen, and to remain open to other views; his ability to adapt to different groups and environments; and his clear moral compass.

Along the way, he built one of the best diplomatic networks in the world. This big book is testament to it. In it, nearly one hundred prominent authors share their personal views behind the scenes of world politics. Almost all of them are masters of diplomacy themselves—many of them spent their careers negotiating difficult agreements or trying to peacefully solve conflicts. Many of them have served as presidents, foreign or defense ministers, heads of international organizations, ambassadors, military leaders, or parliamentarians, while others have influenced the global debate as journalists, scholars, activists, or thought leaders. Each of them offers insights and lessons for diplomacy today and tomorrow.

Of course, this book is not an all-encompassing handbook, discussing every single aspect of diplomacy. Rather, the authors offer their very personal takes on the art of diplomacy. While the charm of the book is the fact that this plethora of views, opinions, and experiences comes relatively unsorted, there is an underlying structure to it all.

The first section of the book deals with some of the key elements of successful diplomacy. Our readers may not be surprised to read about the importance of trust or of personal connections, or to learn about the role of ambassadors and parliamentarians. But they will also learn about the role that tea can play in diplomacy or why diplomacy is, in many ways, like jazz.

The contributions in the second section focus on some of the core challenges for diplomacy today and in the future. Our authors not only reflect on some of the big issues—such as managing great-power competition or defending liberal-democratic values—they also discuss how diplomacy itself, its decision-making structures, its reach, and tools need to be adapted to changing circumstances, including the rise of technology and ever new ways to communicate.

In the third section of the book, our contributors discuss specific episodes of diplomacy in action—some of them very successful, others at least partially helpful, still others complete failures. In many cases, our authors for the first time publicly share their personal stories about these episodes. All these stories provide instructive insights for tomorrow’s diplomats.

The final section of the book brings together some more general reflections on diplomacy. Based on their long-time experience, the contributors spell out some of their key diplomatic lessons. Like all the others writing in this volume, they believe that diplomacy has not had its day. If anything, it will become even more important in the future.

Instead of writing a conclusion ourselves, we have asked Wolfgang to distill his career into a number of key takeaways, which you will find at the very end of this book. As we know from experience, his intense diplomatic life has produced a treasure trove of diplomatic insights, hilarious stories, and more-or-less-funny jokes. Many of these stories, especially the jokes, are for a different book, but their essence runs through this one and, in particular, through Wolfgang’s epilogue.

We very much hope that you will find the collection of stories about diplomacy both instructive and entertaining. We tried to strike a balance between the serious and the more lighthearted, between the instructive and the descriptive, all in the hope that the overall result provides a valuable glimpse behind the scenes of world politics. The one thing to take away from all the stories is that diplomacy really is an art, best practiced by those who, like Wolfgang, are willing to treat it as such.

A Walk to the Garden

Javier Solana

Diplomacy has changed—no doubt about that. Videoconferences, tweets, and the myriad of policy issues that make their way into diplomatic negotiations have transformed the way state representatives interact with each other. New actors have come to the fore. But this art, which is so dear to Wolfgang Ischinger, remains the same in essence.

The essence of diplomacy is one of timeless simplicity. The big power tensions of the Cold War were on occasion mitigated by a telephone call or a simple promenade, such as Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev’s 1985 “walk in the woods” in Geneva. Mention of Reagan reminds us of the passing away last February of George Shultz, the US secretary of state for most of his presidency. Shultz was a towering diplomat who left us with many lessons that are worth mentioning.

Let me start with trust, “the coin of the realm.” Nothing works without trust, in politics or in life. Shultz was very much aware of its value: “When trust was in the room, whatever room that was—the family room, the schoolroom, the locker room, the office room, the government room or the military room—good things happened. When trust was not in the room, good things did not happen. Everything else is details,” he said.

Without trust, conducting diplomacy becomes an arduous task. Mistrust often prevents actors from taking the initial step and cooperating with each other. Without some degree of trust, formalizing the numerous nuclear arms control agreements between the US and the Soviet Union during the Cold War would have been difficult. Trust is not a given in any kind of relationship, political or personal. It has to be built. As Shultz said, “even our adversaries will have to regain the trust that we can work together to manage global threats to humanity’s very existence even when we disagree on other issues.” Shultz was especially lucid in suggesting the analogy of diplomacy as tending a garden.

Tending the garden demands patience. Shultz put it in no better terms: “If you plant a garden and you go away for eight months and you come back it is full of weeds. If you tend that garden regularly you get no weeds.”

Some may suggest this analogy to be outdated. I believe it still holds true to the core substance of diplomacy. But, perhaps, personal reciprocity is the one thing that the gardening analogy misses. Diplomacy is about tending relationships—it is done by people, with people.

Diplomacy is traditionally a means through which states pursue their grand strategies. But down-to-earth, face-to-face human contact is still its bread and butter. This is where the value of listening, honesty, and loyalty come in.

I will take the liberty of showcasing this with a personal experience. A long series of negotiations preceded the signing of the 1997 Founding Act in Paris between NATO and Russia. Yevgeny Primakov, at the time Russian Foreign Minister, was my counterpart during these negotiations. Primakov’s honesty and truthfulness were founding elements of the personal relationship we built, without which a positive political outcome remained dubious. For negotiations, Primakov invited me to a Russian dacha, where our teams met regularly.

We both knew that negotiations would be difficult. He then invited me to walk with him along the snowy woods that surrounded the dacha. After heavily dressing me, we walked and spoke for two hours. The conversation was frank, yet fluid. After that, we knew we would pull it together. That political relationship was underpinned by a latent friendship. We both maintained contact after 1997 and met once again in Russia. Our families took the place of the negotiating teams. The trust was the same.

In a realm where formal negotiations often belittle the value of unstructured conversation, George Shultz’s conception of diplomacy is one not to forget. In diplomacy, sometimes all it takes is a walk in the woods. Or should we say, a walk to the garden.

Javier Solana is President of ESADE Center for Global Economy and Geopolitics. After serving as Spanish Foreign Minister and Secretary General of NATO, he was appointed European Union High Representative for Common Foreign and Security Policy, and Secretary-General of the Council of the EU.

The Test of Trust

Patricia Espinosa

Much of the work devoted to understanding and addressing national security challenges stems from a judicious sense of suspicion, if not outright mistrust. Identifying risks and threats—whether human or natural in origin—and taking measures to avert them is essential to maintaining a stable, secure environment.

National security, however, also depends on mutually beneficial and consistent relationships with other actors—allies, partners, even sympathizers—that are ultimately based on trust. As with so many aspects of international relations, these two opposing attitudes—trust and mistrust—reflect, at the level of national states, pervasive features of social interaction, whether one is talking about human or investment bonds, personal or national security.

As history shows, building trust is more beneficial than managing mistrust. The advantages of collaboration tend to outweigh the benefits of confrontation, provided those involved share some common goals, have a basic sense of respect for each other, and face no irreconcilable differences. This proviso is essential for the statement to hold true and that is why trust has acquired such relevance in today’s globalized world. Today, for many global issues, collaboration is the only option that stands any chance of success.

This is especially true in the case of climate change. The global climate agenda is not a single, self-contained issue that can be treated in isolation, but an all-encompassing challenge that affects many aspects of people’s lives and calls for sweeping changes in people’s lifestyles. Addressing this challenge demands resolute commitments and contributions from every country, every community, and ultimately, every individual.

The critical importance of trust in global efforts against climate change came to the fore at the end of COP15, in Copenhagen. The outcome of that session showed that, even if motivated by the best of intentions, actions that fail to give due consideration to the viewpoints of all countries—regardless of the relative contribution they can or are expected to make to a common endeavor—end up undermining the very goals they seek to achieve. The international regime is predicated on the notion that, as a member of the international community, each nation-state has the same rights and prerogatives as any other. Disregarding this fundamental principle engenders a sense of unfairness and is perceived—rightly or wrongly—as an unequal, heavy-handed treatment.

Instead of feeling confident that a comprehensive and open consultation process was underway, many delegates attending the climate conference in Copenhagen, especially those from developing countries, felt that they were being asked simply to validate a series of resolutions that had been crafted with no regard to their opinions, let alone their contributions. As a result, valuable, sensible proposals prepared in good faith, though perhaps not properly presented and promoted, were brushed aside, and negotiations came to a standstill. It took painstaking, dedicated work over the following twelve months to regain the confidence of parties, observers, and stakeholders. This was ultimately achieved by ensuring that every voice was heard, by holding consultations in an open and inclusive fashion, and by showing consistency between avowed intentions and actual conduct.

The lesson from Copenhagen is not forgotten at the UNFCCC. The commitment to inclusiveness, openness, and transparency must be substantiated in every session and every exchange. This is also central to ongoing efforts toward the success of COP26. There are many complex issues currently under negotiation. Much must be done to reconcile different positions and build common understanding. But the possibility of success in all areas crucially depends on mutual trust, which, in turn, is contingent on the fulfillment of previous pledges. There is no point in undertaking new commitments if those assumed in the past are seen to be disregarded.

Diplomacy has always been based on trust. It is, at the same time, the most readily available means of building the confidence necessary for collaboration among international actors with different, often divergent interests. From the perspective of the intergovernmental process on climate change, the connection between both concepts may be summarized in this way: trust is both a means and an outcome of diplomacy. In international affairs, there can be no successful diplomacy without trust, just as there can be no trust without effective diplomacy.

Patricia Espinosa is the Executive Secretary of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC). She previously served as Mexican Minister of Foreign Affairs and the Ambassador of Mexico to Germany.

The Human Touch

Atifete Jahjaga

Personal Connections

Børge Brende

If, as Otto von Bismarck famously remarked, politics is the “art of the possible,” then diplomacy is the art of the personal. In daring to shape a more peaceful and prosperous future, diplomats stretch the boundaries of possibility, bridging divides that seem chasmic and overcoming obstacles that appear impassable. Breakthroughs like the Camp David Accords and the thawing of the Cold War are instances of inspired diplomacy in action—the result of skilled envoys and leaders negotiating challenging contexts to attain historic outcomes.

Underpinning these and other diplomatic feats are personal relationships—ones that have been forged over weeks, months, and even years. President Jimmy Carter was able to encourage the leaders of Egypt and Israel to pursue peace in the late 1970s because of his friendship with President Anwar Sadat. And the trust between President Ronald Reagan and President Mikhail Gorbachev was critical in steering the countries away from nuclear conflict and toward an end to the Cold War.

To be sure, strategic aims, not personal connections, are what ultimately drive diplomatic endeavors. And the success of these endeavors is determined by whether parties can identify where national interests intersect. But it is the person-to-person relationships that can be key to helping sides take risks, work together through logjams, and find pathways forward. These relationships are often born and nurtured not through formal engagements, with their prescribed protocols, but rather through informal interactions in which diplomats can truly get to know—and trust—one another.

Indeed, there is truth in the oft-repeated refrain that much of the work at the World Economic Forum’s Annual Meeting in Davos takes place in the hallways. It is the mingling and tête-à-têtes between ministers, CEOs, and other stakeholders that contribute to advancing progress on shared priorities and, as importantly, to cultivating relationships. The wells of trust formed and filled through these interactions can be tapped to advance future diplomatic undertakings.

What happens, though, when opportunities for this essential element of diplomacy—the building and maintenance of personal relationships—appear to be gone? This, of course, is what seemed to happen in the early days of the COVID-19 pandemic. Though formal diplomatic engagements did continue through digital platforms—the G20 met virtually, the United Nations held the opening of the General Assembly via digital means, and, of course, the World Economic Forum and Munich Security Conference convened summits in virtual formats—the personal interactions so necessary to diplomacy felt out of reach. Thankfully, expectations did not fully become reality. Despite the restrictions on physical gatherings, stakeholders were on occasion able to engage in personal ways in virtual settings, and at times in an informal and impromptu manner similar to what would take place in the hallways of physical meetings.

For instance, ahead of each panel that the World Economic Forum convened for its virtual summits, the Forum established a “speakers’ room” and encouraged panelists—ministers, CEOs, and leaders of civil society groups—to sign in twenty minutes ahead of the start of the formal dialogue. What was striking was that many public figures and business leaders used the open line to informally meet or catch up with one another, and on a few occasions, offer well-wishes for birthdays or personal milestones. (On more than one occasion, participants ate quick dinners “together.”) Though the conversations were often small talk, when they did take place, they yielded a notably more collaborative atmosphere and productive dialogue in the formal portion of the discussions that followed.

The question, then, is, can digital diplomacy replace in-person diplomacy? Here, as any current or former diplomat would offer, is a compromise: there are merits to both. Because, while the virtual meetings enabled personal connections to form and thrive amid an historic public-health challenge and can offer a way for parties to convene when physical interactions are not possible, there is no substitute over the longer term for in-person collaboration.

The roots of diplomacy rest in relationships. And, as many of us experienced during the pandemic, relationships are at their healthiest and thrive when we can see one another in person.

Børge Brende is the President of the World Economic Forum. He served as Norway’s Minister of Foreign Affairs from 2013 to 2017, Minister of the Environment from 2001 to 2004, and Minister of Trade and Industry from 2004 to 2005.