Tova Herzl, a retired Israeli diplomat, was her country's first single, female, sabbath observant ambassador. Her twenty-one year career began in 1983 and included two stints as congressional liaison in Israel's embassy in Washington DC. She was Israel's first ambassador to the newly independent states of Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia and took early retirement after a tumultuous ambassadorship in South Africa, which included the infamous UN anti-racism conference in Durban in 2001. In Israel she worked, inter alia, in the bureaus of foreign minister Arens and president Herzog. She lives in Jerusalem and is a first year law student.
This exchange focuses on her new book, Madame Ambassador, Behind the Scenes with a Candid Israeli Diplomat (Rowman & Littlefield, November 2014), an intimate description of diplomatic life and work. (Parts 1 and 2 can be found here and here.)
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Dear Ambassador Herzl,
My third question is about manners, interests and how a country should behave abroad as it attempts to balance the two. In the book you describe the many occasions in which it seems that the “protocol” or “manners” contradict what you believed ought to be done. But my hook is current affairs – namely, the decision by the Israeli Prime Minister to go to Paris, not quite invited, march in a rally, and elbow his way to the front row.
Netanyahu's critics mocked his behavior and said it was typical of the pushy Israeli. His defenders argued that you don't always need to be polite, and that sometimes it is better to be pushy than be a pushover.
Your thoughts, please, backed by examples from your own career.
And thank you for a lovely discussion.
Shmuel.
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Dear Shmuel,
Maybe those references reflect my subconscious discomfort with an essential aspect of the profession – the obligatory facade. However, anyone who earns a living must adjust. Writers consider what will be printed and read, architects adapt their designs to customers' tastes, publicists and lawyers represent their clients. My client was a trio: Israel, its policies, and those who make them.
And so, a diplomat dons an artificial smile when her foreign minister offends his Russian colleague by telling a joke which mocks the guest's country.
Faced with a policy mistake, as in the Phalcon affair (when Israel ignored overwhelming American opposition to the sale of a spy plane to China), she does her best to inform and persuade her policymakers. Until she succeeds, or if she fails, she has no choice but to go along. She will assuage her conscience by creating some distance, say by introducing her comments with “my government believes” or “the ambassador said” – See? Its not me! Still, she will do her job. Does that make her a 'pushover'?
This is not to say that diplomats are like those toy dogs on the back windows of cars, whose heavy heads nod automatically.
I recall a Washington meeting, when I was as startled as the Speaker to hear his Israeli counterpart make an inappropriate request. Later, our host's assistant asked if I had known about it in advance. Protecting a brash Israeli politician would have undermined my credibility and damaged an important working relationship. I chose truth.
Honesty also guided my meeting with Lithuania's president before his trip to Israel. I suggested that unless he confronts his compatriots' collaboration with the Nazis, the visit will do more harm than good. Within minutes, my car-phone rang, and his advisor scolded me for speaking inappropriately to his boss, the leader of a foreign country.
But, they got the message. The visitor's statements set policies against which future Lithuanian actions could be measured. The advisor also taught diplomacy at a local university, and he subsequently used the episode to show his students that accepted norms are sometimes better ignored than guarded. In this case, being what you call 'pushy' proved effective.
Once – this links both parts of your question – after escorting a delegation of visiting parliamentarians to meetings with their Israeli colleagues, I stopped at the office of a friend who worked in the Knesset. As soon as I began complaining about our legislators, this usually polite man told me to shut up. He then asked me a series of questions: Are you as competent as them? Dedicated? Hardworking? Would you do as good a job, if not better? My answers were all affirmative.
He had one final question: If so, why are you not a member of Knesset? I explained that the fundrasing and babykissing and dealmaking of politics were not for me, and he repeated: In that case – shut up. He was right.
Politicians juggle assorted, even contradictory, agendas. They should think globally and consider protocol while also, especially as elections loom, allow for domestic considerations and plan future alliances. Pleasing everyone is impossible. Where should their priorities lie?
A French official could have one opinion, which may – or may not – be shared by that country's Jews. An Israeli journalist might have another opinion, which may – or may not – be shared by a former diplomat. There is no single correct answer. We can but think, and vote.
Tova.
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