Part 6

As long as the nations have any dealings with each other as nations, so long will it be necessary for them to have representatives, honored and trusted by those who receive them as well as those who send them, at each other’s capitals. It might almost be said that they exist for the prevention of business—the business arising from misunderstandings—for their primary duty is, while representing their own nation with dignity and reserve, to cultivate friendly relations with the power to which they are accredited, as far as circumstances will allow. To do this they interpret the public acts of their own government as it wishes to be understood, and are frequently entrusted with large discretionary powers for this purpose. Moreover, they expedite business and help to avoid annoyances in a very large measure. The government at Washington, for instance, wishes to know the attitude of the government at Berlin upon a certain matter without making it too formal or exaggerating its importance, and accordingly application is made at once either to the German ambassador residing at Washington or to the American ambassador in Berlin, either of whom, if it lies within his discretion, gives the desired information. If the whole thing is quietly done, so as to escape general notice, it saves needless wild guessing as to what it all means; and this is greatly to be desired when things are in an acute stage, if not at other times. The recent triumph of the “open door” policy in China was accomplished in this quiet, effective way.

It will be observed that the modern conception of the function of a diplomat makes him a resident of the country of his embassage during the time of his appointment. Moreover, that he is not sent on any stated errand, as for instance, the negotiation of a treaty, or as a member of an international congress. This latter, to be sure, is diplomatic business, but the agents employed are usually termed commissioners.

ORIGIN.

It was in this latter sense, however, that the term ambassador was originally used.

Just when it had its origin it would be hard to say, but it was so far back in antiquity that the sanctity of religion must needs be thrown about the persons of the officials to shield them from violence. In ancient times when an ambassador went to a foreign court he went with a special message, and having delivered it and received a reply, his business was ended and he returned homeward. His official dignity was but little inferior to that of the sovereign. Indeed he represented not only his country but the person of his sovereign, and he was accredited not to any foreign minister, but directly to the sovereign. Hence his visit, especially if friendly, was attended with an elaborate display of pomp and ceremony, the exchange of gifts and courtly compliments, and it would have been a royal sight to have beheld his journey through the

“lovely land ... Whose loveliness was more resplendent made By the mere passing of that cavalcade With plumes and cloaks and housings, and the stir Of jeweled bridle and of golden spur”.

When he began to stay abroad, some four or five hundred years ago, his purpose was mischievous. He stayed to act as a court spy and intriguer, to find out secrets while keeping his own. A certain diplomat of the seventeenth century is said to have written in praise of his occupation, diplomacy “causes sudden revolutions in great states. It excites hatreds, jealousies and seditions. It arms princes and whole nations against their own interests; it forms leagues and other treaties among sovereigns and peoples whose interests are quite opposed to one another; it destroys those leagues and snaps the closest ties asunder”. There is no doubt as to what this means. It is war—polite war, if you please, where the weapons are deception, hypocrisy, insinuation and innuendo—the meanest kind of war, where cowards may be greater than heroes.

“If they lie to you, lie still more to them”, was the naive instruction given by one sovereign to his ambassadors.

Not to multiply instances on a point where history is unfortunately too full, it is interesting to notice, as some one has pointed out, that with rapid communication by train and by telegraph, court intrigues have gradually died away; for now that the capitals of the world are within “whispering distance” of each other, as it were, ambassadors have assumed a position of secondary importance to the minister for foreign affairs (or in America the Secretary of State), an officer who resides at the home capital.

PRECEDENCE.

Naturally enough, one of the questions of greatest concern at a mediaeval court was that of precedence—who was the biggest man, and the next and so on. Talk about comic opera! In more than one historic instance the question of precedence among diplomats, or the consequent squabbles between their trains of attendants, fairly “out-Herods Herod” in farcicalness. “The Conferences of Ryswyk”, we are told, “were held in a house which seemed to have been built for the purpose, with three separate entrances and every convenience for preventing collisions; but it was found impossible from first to last to sit at the single table in the rooms assigned to the mediators, because no agreement could be come to about the order of sitting; in that room they could only stand; they sat in a circle in another room where there was no table. A Latin protocol, which had been preserved of the proceedings at Nymegen eighteen years before, was produced as a precedent, but in vain; it contained a plan of the room used at Nymegen, showing the arrangement of seats in it, together with the positions of the doors, windows and fireplace—for these things may be important in determining which is the top and which the bottom of a table. A round table was used at Cambray, Soissons and Aix la Chapelle; but even a round table loses its accommodating quality when it is discovered that the place of honor is that opposite the door, and that every place of honor has a right hand and a left.” A quarrel between two ambassadors’ wives has seriously interfered with international negotiations, and a coachman’s obstinacy has added thirty pages to the “Compleate History of the Treaty of Utrecht.”

MODERN DIPLOMACY—CHARACTER.

It is not to be supposed that modern diplomacy has so completely changed character as to lose all of its disagreeable features, for there is still more or less mediaevalism attaching to it—at least if the popular conception be true. And perhaps in some degree it must always be so; for the office is unique in its opportunities as well as its inducements to dissimulate, mislead and misrepresent. In the first place, the diplomat undertakes his mission under secret instructions. The public may know what are the duties of the consular service as fully as the consuls themselves; but not so with the diplomatic service, for to the public it is a closed door. Moreover, our diplomat may reason with himself that business of any kind involving competition is a kind of warfare; that diplomatic business is especially so because it is international, that there is no penalty for the breaking of an international law, and thus he may be led to conclude that “all’s fair in love and war”, especially war.

It may be necessary for some if not all of the members of a legation to maintain a “discreet inquisitiveness”; it certainly is necessary for all to know how to meet indiscreet questions with non-committal answers; yet the finesse of diplomatic intrigue is dangerous ground and British and American diplomats have, in the main, done well to avoid it. The chief of a legation especially should remember that his office is a noble one and should be kept above the stifling air of intrigue; that the dignity of a nation may easily be compromised by the mere suspicion of complicity therein, and that to those among whom he moves he both represents his country officially and typifies his countrymen personally. The American diplomat has gained something of a reputation for going straight at the mark—of leaving no doubt as to the attitude of his government and the policy he is to follow, and is not this the true diplomacy? The ruling purpose should not be to gain one’s point, but to preserve the national dignity while using all honorable means to gain the point.

So much depends upon the manner of a diplomat. Men ordinarily admire and covet a certain plainness and directness of speech which in business may amount even to bluntness. But frankness of speech which in any other occupation might prove only disadvantageous, in diplomacy amounts to a complete disqualification. In business a diplomat must be all ears and no tongue until the time comes for him to speak, then he must know exactly what to say and what not to say. He may feel that every man has a right to an opinion and to the expression of it, but being a diplomat he must remember that his opinion will be regarded as official whether or not he intends it so, and therefore it must be guarded religiously.

In society, somewhat to the contrary, there should be no outward indication of a studied reserve—nothing that would serve as a restraint upon his freedom of movement and conversation. He should be a man of engaging manners, of suave and polite address, and of affability and urbanity in conversation. He should not only be well trained in the usages of good society, but should also thoroughly acquaint himself with the traditional usages and customs, the etiquette of the court where he is to reside.

ACCEPTABILITY.

Since the principal purpose in sending ambassadors is to secure peace by cultivating friendly relations with other governments, it is evidently wise before making an appointment to any country to learn whether the person whom it is expected to send is acceptable to that country. Accordingly it is customary before making the appointment public to make the nomination privately to the foreign government and to express the hope that it will be found acceptable. Even the nominee knows nothing of it, and is thus saved the pain of rejection in case that should occur. If there is no personal objection to the nominee, and if there is no doubt that his country possesses full sovereignty and is therefore entitled to send ambassadors, his government is notified of the fact that he is acceptable; but should there be any objection to him—and sometimes very trifling ones will suffice—his government is notified that he is _persona non grata_ (not an agreeable person), and it proceeds to make other nominations. Not only has the foreign government the right to reject a nominee but also to demand his recall at any time if there is any well grounded dissatisfaction with him. One American ambassador was recalled because complaint was made about his bad manners.

SOVEREIGNTY OF A STATE.

Since the power to send ambassadors is conditioned upon the sovereignty of a state we may be pardoned for a glance at international law for the meaning of sovereignty. The essential attributes of a state are—

(1) Equality—in a legal sense—a small country the equal of a larger one. (2) Independence, freedom from all other states. (3) Sovereignty. (4) Fixed locality—boundary. (5) Its people must be organized into a political society.

Woolsey, who mentions the first three only, says that they “cannot exist apart, and perhaps the single conception of sovereignty, or of self-protection, may include them all”. It is “the power of entering into relations with other states and of governing its own subjects”. Thus it follows that no dependency or colony can send a diplomat of any rank whatever.

After the appointment of any one to the diplomatic service, the manner of which will be mentioned later, he must take the oath of allegiance and is then given a pamphlet of printed instructions by the State Department. He is furnished with a letter of credence from the President to the foreign government and is expected to reach his post within a given time, and to stay there until the expiration of his appointment unless he is given special permission to leave. Having reached his destination, he is formally presented to the sovereign, unless he is a chargé d’affaires, makes calls upon his colleagues, and secures his exequatur. It is wise to make an early call upon the dean of the diplomatic body, who is generally the oldest official member of the diplomatic corps, for instruction as to local customs, ceremonies and etiquette.

Our government has generally assumed an attitude of indifference to matters of form and ceremony—an independence which has cost it no little prestige, and its diplomats a great deal of annoyance. It should be granted that forms and ceremonies have their place in diplomatic affairs, and that each court or capital has a right to its own long-established usages. But we have rather been inclined to turn up our noses at such foreign nonsense, forgetting that in matters of form there is sound discretion in the precept, “When in Rome do as the Romans do”. But the government seems to have cared less for the art of being agreeable than for the science of being successful, regardless of the fact that in diplomacy the one is a prerequisite to the other. Two illustrations of this may be given—the appointment of ambassadors and the question of a diplomatic uniform.

It is only within the present decade that the United States has begun to exercise its constitutional right to be represented wherever it chooses by diplomats of the first rank, i. e., ambassadors. Previously its highest representatives abroad were diplomats of the second rank, i. e., ministers, who though thoroughly competent to handle the business were simply out-ranked by every ambassador of every second or third rate power in the world. This we could afford to ignore so far as it is merely a question of sentiment, but when it compels an American diplomat after waiting hours for an audience to give place to any ambassador who happens along, and when it implies an acceptance on our part of a secondary place among the nations, it is sheer nonsense to continue the practice. Our reasons were, first an ambassador is supposed to represent the person of his sovereign, and as we have no sovereign we should have no ambassadors; and second, the office itself was supposed to involve a greater outlay of money and a more gorgeous and elaborate display than was consistent with the simplicity of republican tastes.

As to the diplomatic uniform, which is not the same thing as a court dress, by the way, the same objections have been urged. The mistake that we have made is in assuming that “the rule should emanate from home, and not from abroad”; for while we have an undoubted right to establish our own customs at our national capital, others might be excused for thinking us priggish when we attempt to carry those customs abroad, especially when in defiance of customs in general usage and of long standing. But so it stands recorded in the statutes, that American diplomatic officers shall wear no distinguishing uniform; and as a consequence, at an evening reception in some brilliant foreign capital you will see the diplomatic corps of other nations appropriately distinguished, while the American diplomat appears in the costume worn by the servants and waiters, that is, plain evening dress. What diplomats sometime complain of in this connection is not the lack of distinction, but that they are rather unpleasantly distinguished.

PRIVILEGES.

An ambassador enjoys unusual privileges from the time he enters until the time he leaves the country where he is sent, and these we will now briefly consider. They have been classified under the heads of inviolability and exterritoriality, though they may be considered together.

Inviolability means that “neither public authority nor private persons can use any force or do any violence to him, without offending against the law of nations”. Of course if he attempts any violence toward other individuals he becomes amenable to the local authorities.

Exterritoriality means the right while sojourning in a foreign country to remain subject to the laws of his own, in both criminal and civil jurisdiction.

These privileges are granted because it is thought that an ambassador cannot fully and freely represent his own country if he is liable to be interfered with by the state to which he is accredited. When carried out to their practical application some curious results are reached; for instance—

1. These privileges extend to his goods and his lodgings. “His house is a sanctuary—except in case of a gross crime—for himself and his retinue”. His official papers and archives are inviolate. He cannot shelter any fugitive from law, although even this—the right of asylum—was at one time general.

2. The courtesy of exemption from taxation is usually extended to ambassadors, as well as exemption from duties on all necessary articles of his household.

3. Owing to the inviolability of his property it is hard to collect a debt from an ambassador when he has a mind not to pay—a thing which has happened more than once.

4. The right to his own form of worship is granted to an ambassador and his retinue, even when his religion is not otherwise tolerated by the laws of the land. In this latter case it is sometimes provided that it must be simply “house worship—without bell, organ or other sign indicating to passengers in the street that a chapel is near by”;—“a native of the country cannot attend”, and the “chaplain must not appear abroad in his canonicals”.

5. Exemptions from local jurisdiction apply to the secretary of legation, the chaplain, physician, private secretary and even to domestic servants. They apply even to domestic servants who are natives of the country though in a limited degree.

6. The jurisdiction of an ambassador over the members of his train is limited to minor matters. A criminal would be sent home for trial, the ambassador collecting and forwarding all the evidence.

I have purposely deferred the subject of the selection of diplomatic officers until after a consideration of the service itself, in order that we may the better understand what is needed in such an officer.

It will be observed that the requirements for a successful diplomat are wholly unlike those for a consul. To be successful in the consular service one must first of all be a good business man. One should have a mind for details, a quick and keen commercial insight, an acquaintance with the material facts of life, and the proper training would be that of the merchant or the journalist, supplemented in some cases by that of the lawyer and jurist. There is a definite, body of information which a consul should have at his command, a body of rules whose authority he must not transgress, and in the transaction of his business if he looks to precedent it is only for present guidance.

The diplomat on the other hand should first of all be a statesman. To belong to the first rank, along with the greatest in the world, he must have the gift of prophecy and the grace to keep it quiet. In the pursuit of a great national ambition he should have wisdom to foresee, genius to plan and tact to execute. His study is of men, the history and the political institutions of men, the history and tendencies of his own times, and the capacities and characteristics of different races. These things are his science, furnishing the basis for his art, that art which Bacon called the highest of all—the art of “working” men. He cannot, in the nature of the case, expect to receive very definite instruction from his government, unless it be upon a specific line of policy and an acquaintance with the treaties between the two countries. Precedents are of value to him as a guide to present action, but more especially as affecting future policy; for a nation’s foreign policy is influential among other nations and satisfactory at home in proportion as it is self-consistent and just. In great international emergencies the diplomat sometimes does the work of a military chieftain, but with these differences: his means are peaceful, his warfare is necessarily in secret, the results are bloodless, and, when all is done, the skill with which he has fought is seldom recognized except by the historian.

Fortunately the practical problem of choosing men for the diplomatic service does not contemplate deeds of such momentous character—at least not for beginners—but it does indicate the magnitude of the scale of operations sometimes carried on by this service which makes history no less than do military campaigns. It is evident, moreover, that no course of study however long can prepare a man for the diplomatic service, except in an elementary way. It goes without saying that such elementary preparation should be made before entering the service, and that it should include among other essentials a knowledge of French, Spanish or German, especially the first which has been called the language of diplomacy.

But after all, the only satisfactory preparation for the diplomatic service is experience. Some years ago the United States began a system, pursued more or less by other nations, of appointing young men to various legations as attachés without salary. In this capacity they became acquainted with diplomats and the “ins and outs” of diplomacy, and incidentally gave their superiors a chance to discover their fitness or unfitness for the service. The advantages of such a system, which has been abandoned except as to the appointment of military and naval attachés, must be apparent to all, and it is hard to see why it should not be reinstated.

In the absence of definite training and knowledge to furnish a basis for examination the diplomatic service is either exceptionally fortunate or exceptionally unfortunate. As long as the good of the service is kept chiefly in view in the selection of candidates, even though the service be regarded as political, it is well that technical knowledge cannot interfere seriously with the appointment of the most promising candidate. On the other hand, when the service is regarded as a legitimate means of rewarding political friends it will suffer all the more for the want of a restraint such as the examination affords, just as with the consular service, only in a greater degree.

Diplomatic officers are more apt to change with the change of administration than are consular officers, for the reason that the service itself is more political in character. Some authorities go so far as to justify the change on the ground that the administration ought to be unrestricted in carrying out its policy, and therefore should be represented abroad by those of its own political faith just as it is in the cabinet. It must be admitted that there is a great deal to justify this contention, but it should be said that the analogy with the President’s cabinet is hardly fair; for in the latter case the parties are the units, and we recognize the right of the stronger party to full executive power; but in the case of the ambassadors the nation is the unit which he represents, not the party. Theoretically the change of diplomatic officials with the change of administration cannot be justified, and practically a sweeping change is certainly demoralizing to our interests. In the most important positions, however, it may sometimes be best that the President be allowed to substitute those of his own party.