Mention the name Christopher Meyer to serving or former diplomats and there is
a good chance that you will be met with an angry stare, a disapproving growl
and even some very undiplomatic language.
Sir Christopher may be one of the most accomplished diplomats of his
generation — he served as ambassador in Washington and had a walk-on part at
key stages of Britain’s foreign policy triumphs and failures over the past
three decades. But his honest account of his time in America, in the
best-selling DC Confidential, angered colleagues who felt he had
betrayed their profession by breaking the vow of confidentiality.
He famously poked fun at the Blair Government’s “political pygmies”, as he
described some ministers. He disclosed, for instance, that John Prescott had
called the Balkans “Balklands” during a high-level meeting in Washington.
The former Deputy Prime Minister responded by labelling Sir Christopher “a
red-socked fop”. This time Sir Christopher has sought to avoid the charge of
indiscretion by tackling far weightier issues, namely what lessons we can
learn from 500 years of British diplomacy and how might we apply them to
today’s complex foreign policy problems. The stories also form the basis of
a documentary series to be broadcast next year by the BBC. That may sound
less provocative. Actually, his conclusions are more explosive than Mr
Prescott’s famous temper.
Do not be under any illusion that this is a history book. The nine accounts
chosen by the author are highly subjective and there is one strong thread
running through. The policies of the past decade, particularly those
promoted by Tony Blair and new Labour, have been a disaster. It is time to
get back to diplomatic basics. We should spend more time pursuing our
interests and defending our corner instead of trying to promote our values
around the world.
Far from entering some new world dominated by global issues, the book suggests
that we have entered a period more akin to the late 19th century. This will
be characterised by great power rivalries, where clear policies and deft
diplomacy will serve us better than “ethical foreign policy”.
His guiding principle is best summed up by Lord Palmerston, who remarked in
1848 that: “We have no eternal allies and we have no perpetual enemies. Our
interests are eternal and perpetual, and those interests it is our duty to
follow.”
Another one his heroes is Viscount Castlereagh, the British Foreign Minister
at the Congress of Vienna in 1814. He credits the British envoy with helping
to draw up a treaty that balanced power and kept the peace on continental
Europe for the best part of a century (aside from the Crimean War). He
attributes this success to the “realist” school of diplomacy, defined as
taking the world as you find it not as you might wish it to be.
An avowed Americaphile, Sir Christopher — who served in Washington under both
Bush administrations — takes a swipe at the so-called “special relationship”
between London and Washington. Under Blair’s Government this became an end
in itself and crippled Britain’s ability to express an independent view, he
argues. He believes that the relationship has become even worse under
President Obama, characterised by “obsequious grovelling” by British
politicians.
Sir Christopher is amazed that we have not learnt the lessons of our history
in Afghanistan, where he believes that building a democratic state is
futile. He bemoans the confused policies, the failure of joined-up
government — particularly between the Foreign Office and the Department for
International Development. He is dismissive of foreign policy made up on
Downing Street sofas by people who do not know what they are doing, while
the experts at the FCO are consigned to the margins. In short — leave the
serious business of diplomacy to the experts.
Much of this criticism hits home. Plenty of foreign policy mistakes have been
made since 1997. In a decade we have soared from the heights of
international acclaim to the depths of humiliation. There are many lessons
worth learning. We could start by taking a hard look at where we devote our
resources. The Department for International Development’s ballooning aid
budget seems strangely at odds with the reductions to traditional diplomacy
in important parts of the world.
But it would also be a mistake to overlook the successes of the Blair years
and to embrace realpolitik as the answer to all our problems. Britain
overreached itself in Iraq and sleepwalked into a serious war in
Afghanistan. But the intervention in Kosovo was a success that eventually
brought down Slobodan Milosevic and made it possible for war criminals such
as Radovan Karadzic to be brought before an international court, where he
stands trial today.
It is worth remembering that British forces were also sent into Macedonia,
successfully heading off the country’s slide into war, to Sierra Leone,
halting a bloody civil conflict, and to East Timor, where they helped a
multinational force to deliver a new country into the world.
Lord Hurd of Westwell, the former Foreign Secretary, is quoted at length in
this book as a foreign policy sage. I would beg to differ. This is the same
Lord Hurd whose Government completely mishandled the collapse of Yugoslavia.
They and their fellow Europeans dithered on the sidelines as hundreds of
thousands of civilians — mainly Bosnian Muslims — were raped, butchered and
driven from their homes in the worst atrocities since the Second World War.
The conflict was brought to a halt only when America finally intervened. It
did not help Lord Hurd’s reputation that he later returned to Belgrade with
Dame Pauline Neville-Jones, now the Conservatives’ national security
adviser, to secure a deal for NatWest, where both had accepted senior posts,
to advise on the privatisation of Serbia’s telephone monopoly. At the time
the graves of Milosevic’s victims were still fresh. The Conservatives have
been coy about their foreign policy priorities should they come to power
next year. Let’s hope that they are not encouraged to think that turning the
clock back to 1996 would be a good way forward.
As it happens, it was in our interest to intervene in the Balkans and stop the
bloodshed. One of the clear rules of recent foreign policy is that a
conflict left unresolved has a habit of destabilising its neighbours and the
world beyond. That means refugees fleeing to the safety of the West, and
terrorists, drug dealers and even pirates taking advantage of the political
vacuum. Somalia and Afghanistan are good examples of what happens when we
walk away. We intervened in Afghanistan from self-interest because the
Taleban were harbouring al-Qaeda, which in turn was waging a terrorist
campaign against the West in the name of militant Islam. Scores of British
citizens have been killed by al-Qaeda in attacks on New York, Baghdad, Bali,
Istanbul, Jakarta, London and Mumbai. At one point the terrorist campaign
posed an existential threat to key allies such as Iraq and Saudi Arabia.
Today it threatens Yemen and East Africa. These are areas that matter
enormously to Britain.
We cannot and should not set ourselves as the world’s policeman. Iraq and
Afghanistan have demonstrated the limits of our reach and the shortcomings
of using force without a clear political objective. But I hope Britain has
more to offer the world than the narrow scope of its interests. If we
withdraw from the world stage and pursue only what is to our benefit, we
will relinquish the moral and political ground to countries with absolutely
no regard for democracy and human rights. China’s recent trade deal with
Guinea, days after the military regime repressed a peaceful opposition
demonstration, is a case in point. It is no coincidence that its other major
trading partners include Sudan, Iran and Burma.
Although not mentioned in the book, a tough new breed of British diplomat has
emerged over the past decade. In time, given better leadership from London,
some of them may yet emerge as Foreign Office heroes, and deserve of a place
alongside Sir Christopher’s venerable diplomats.
Richard Beeston is Foreign Editor of The Times
Getting Our Way 500 Years of Adventure and Intrigue: The Inside Story of
British Diplomacy by Christopher Meyer Weidenfeld & Nicolson,
£18.99; 292pp Buy
the book
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