A DIPLOMAT'S words should leave his country safer after he has spoken.
That is one lesson I carried away from my appointment as the Philippines' first permanent representative to the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (Asean) in 2009. And while a change of administration shortened my tenure, the education I took from it was lasting.
Mostly, I learned the intrinsic value of language and the power of words. After all, meanings are in people, and they can choose to construe words in different ways. What a speaker intends as reassurance may reach his audience as intimidation instead. History, experience and unequal power enter the conversation before anyone opens his mouth.
ing that a true diplomat can tell an adversary to “go to hell” so tactfully that the latter actually asks for directions. Amusing, certainly. But diplomacy demands something harder: delivering an unwelcome message to an audience while keeping the path open to agreement.
These lessons return to mind amid the controversy over Chinese Ambassador Jing Quan’s remarks.
Just last Oct. 15, the ambassador told Filipino reporters that China could “easily win” if it chose to use force against the Philippines, while also saying that Beijing would not choose force and loved peace. The statement naturally caused controversy. Philippine officials heard a threat. Foreign Affairs Secretary Ma.
Theresa Lazaro summoned him on Oct. 19 to convey the government’s objection. And all the while, the Chinese Embassy maintained that his remarks had been selectively quoted and overinterpreted.
This incident shows that the distinction between “intended meaning” and “received meaning” matters. A powerful country may believe it is demonstrating remarkable restraint by mentioning the force it could employ any time. And yet, its smaller neighbor may reasonably hear a reminder that its security depends on the stronger country’s discretion and continued “kindness.” My concern is the understanding of peace that using such language encourages. In this case, peace becomes precarious, even temporary, when presented as a favor bestowed by the powerful.
This is where former Australian prime minister Kevin Rudd offers useful counsel.
Rudd’s command of Mandarin and long engagement with China make him an unusually informed interpreter. But his most valuable contribution in his 2022 book, “The Avoidable War,” is an argument about political responsibility: Rivalry need not culminate in war.
His proposed “managed strategic competition” has three elements: 1) Washington and Beijing should understand each other’s vital interests and establish safeguards against miscalculation; 2) pursue competition within limits that prevent armed conflict; and 3) preserve cooperation where their interests converge. Rudd also stresses sustained management by senior officials. The framework does not require prior trust. Predictable conduct can begin even before trust develops.
Admittedly, Rudd’s framework specifically addresses the United States and China. Applying its lessons to our maritime dispute, therefore, requires care. The Philippines has its own interests, rights and decisions.
Our future cannot properly be settled through an understanding reached over our heads.
Nevertheless, the practical implications deserve attention.
First, firmness should have a clear purpose. A diplomatic protest should identify the objectionable conduct, explain our position, and state what we expect. Public indignation can express national resolve. Policy must carry that resolve toward an achievable result.
Second, communication must work even when relations are at their worst.
Operational contacts between the relevant maritime authorities, reliable emergency channels, and procedures for handling dangerous encounters deserve persistent attention. A telephone number has little value if nobody answers during a crisis.
Third, arrangements to prevent incidents must preserve our legal position. Safety measures should protect lives without becoming instruments for extracting concessions.
Understanding another country’s asserted red lines does not oblige us to automatically accept their legitimacy.
Fourth, cooperation should remain possible where it serves the Filipino people. Disaster response, environmental protection and other shared concerns can sustain useful contact.
Such engagement must be judged on its merits, with safeguards against political pressure.
Asean also has a role. My experience there taught me that countries can work together despite differences in history, interests and political systems. That takes patience. It also takes discipline to find a particular language that participants understand and commitments they will honor.
In this era of volatility, uncertainty, complexity and ambiguity, public debate rewards the sharp retort. But diplomacy must answer to a longer horizon: the safety of citizens, the protection of rights, and the prevention of war.
The Philippine government has said it will keep communication lines open while maintaining its positions on important issues. That is a demanding course, requiring both resolve and restraint.
We should judge diplomatic language by what it makes possible after the applause or outrage subsides.
The measure of a diplomat is whether his words protect his country — and leave peace a fighting chance.
“It isn’t enough to talk about peace.
One must believe in it. And it isn’t enough to believe in it. One must work at it,” said diplomat and former US first lady Eleanor Roosevelt
