The Foreign Service

You know, when I was growing up, and heard the word, Diplomat, I had very big ideas on what that meant. I pictured people like George F. Kennan, or Robert Murphy or even Dean Acheson.  Guys that shaped foreign policy, and looked for all the world like men of distinction that represented us to the world.  I also never dreamed I'd actually be one of them.  (When I was growing up I wanted to be a policeman.  Then, as I got older, a lawyer.  Then, as I was in college, an FBI agent.  I might have changed my name to Burt Macklin too, you never know.)

Still, when I joined the Foreign Service in 1999, it was still a simpler time to be there.  The Soviet Union was gone, the Balkan Wars were winding down, and it seemed as if the world was on the precipice of a new era.  (But the Department of State still was on guard. Nairobi and Dar es Salaam were in 1998, so terrorism had already struck the US.)

Here's what I've learned though: Kennan, Murphy and Acheson weren't unique.  They were part and parcel what the Department of State does.  They just happened to be at the right place and time to make a mark.  They were extraordinary diplomats, don't get me wrong, but they also were part and parcel of the whole.  I've met many people in the Department that day in and day out do amazing things, and don't get the credit they deserve.  Most of them don't seek it out.  It's just what they do.

You don't hear about the man or woman working in Kunar Province setting up centers and getting to know the populace to promote US foreign policy.  You don't hear about any of the people in the Central African Republic in the midst of a civil war trying to report what's going on because that's their job.  Or the DS agents out trying to find a man who killed a US citizen overseas because it's the right thing to do.

Listen, you don't hear much about us because there aren't that many of us.  The only time you hear about a Foreign Service Officer is when one of four things happens.  1) They get killed;  2) They get arrested for selling visas;  3) They get arrested because someone thinks they're a spy; or 4) They're used as a symbol in a Congressional Hearing about waste.  There's not much waste going on in the Department of State.  We don't have the budget to do waste any more.  Believe me, I'm a Management Officer, I'd know if there was waste.  There usually aren't Career Ambassadors in places like London or Paris because we can't afford to be Ambassador there.  The funds for representation, and believe me it's very important to do representation, are too small to use for representation in places like London and Paris.  And the places were Waste could come up are watched like a hawk by the auditors in Charleston and the Congressional auditors.  You won't find the $300 hammer here any more.

(Which reminds me of a great joke I heard told by an old Management Officer.  "The Ambassador at a post in Africa has just sent his DCM out on on Medivac back to the states.  He's looking for a temporary DCM for the next few months, and decides that he will call in all his officers to interview them.  He'll only ask one question: "What is two plus two."  He calls in the Political officer and asks his question.  The response is: "Well sir, first we have to consider where the first two is coming from.  If it's part of the ruling coalition, then the opposition won't be part of it, so once we figure out where the other two is coming from we'll have an answer for you."  The Econ officer says, "Is this a Macro or Micro question, because you'll come up with two different answers then."  The PAS officer says, "We'll commission a poll and ask the respondents of the country, we should get back to you in a month."  The AID officer says: "4.4, because 10% will have to go to the contractor."  Finally, the room is empty except for the Management Officer.  The Ambassador, bleary-eyed, asks his question: "What's two plus two?"  The Management officer looks at the Ambassador, quietly gets up, closes the door, moves his chair a little closer, leans over and says in a low voice, "Sir, what do you want it to be?")

Anyways, even though I complain about my job sometimes, and sometimes want to make a voodoo doll of the people in the travel section back in Washington, I do really like my job.  I like that my kids are seeing the world.  I like that I'm doing something good for my country.  And I like that when I walk the halls of Main State back in Washington, I think of all those who came before me who might have walked in those halls.  People like Tom Pickering or Robert Murphy or Chris Stevens.  People who were amazing Diplomats and that people still speak in a respectful tone when they mention their names.  Maybe one day I'll be one of those as well.  (Probably not.  I am a Management Officer, after all.)  I'm just glad I'm a part of "The Long Pin-Striped Line."