Writing in 1969 Henry Kissinger commented that "the United States is no longer in a position to operate programs globally; it has to encourage them. It can no longer impose its preferred solution; it must seek to evoke it. In the forties and fifties, we offered remedies; in the late sixties and in the seventies our role will have to be to contribute to a structure that will foster the initiative of others. . . . This task requires a different kind of creativity and another form of patience than we have displayed in the past."
Writing in 1969 Henry Kissinger commented that "the United States is no longer in a position to operate programs globally; it has to encourage them. It can no longer impose its preferred solution; it must seek to evoke it. In the forties and fifties, we offered remedies; in the late sixties and in the seventies our role will have to be to contribute to a structure that will foster the initiative of others. . . . This task requires a different kind of creativity and another form of patience than we have displayed in the past."1
What kind of creativity and what form of patience? At first glance the task of evoking preferred solutions to the problems of a multipolar world would appear ideally suited to the powers of reason, patience and persuasion with which professional diplomats are supposed to be preternaturally endowed. The objective conditions for a rebirth of traditional diplomacy seem everywhere present. The number of nation-states jockeying for position in world affairs has never been larger. The influence of international political organizations has never been weaker. And the concentration of mutually offsetting military power in the hands of a few states has generally enhanced the bargaining advantages of national sovereignty.
Yet, paradoxically, at this most propitious of moments the professional diplomat finds his ability to influence events at its lowest ebb. The decline in his fortunes almost exactly parallels the decline in the ability of governments to conduct their relations without diplomacy. Does career diplomacy thus have a valid and continuing role to play in world affairs, or, as Maria Callas once said of opera, is it a dead art which can at best be resuscitated only for individual performances?
II
This is a premium article
You must be a logged in Foreign Affairs subscriber to continue reading. If you wish to continue reading this article please subscribe , or activate your online account to get full online access.
Log In
Buy PDF
Buy a premium PDF reprint of this article.Related
American foreign policy is changing, but the machinery of government is not changing with it. As we try to enter what President Nixon has called an era of negotiation, it is time to ask whether the nation is well served by the immense foreign affairs bureaucracies that have grown up in Washington over the past quarter-century. Could institutional reform give new coherence to our foreign policy? How these questions are answered may well determine the success or failure of American diplomacy in the seventies.
Ten years ago this fall John Kennedy first spoke about sending Americans overseas in voluntary service. By the following summer the idea had a name- the Peace Corps-several hundred Volunteers were in training, and even as Congress debated the program it became clear that the idea was catching on. The Silent Generation was ready to be heard from and young Americans were flooding the Corps' makeshift headquarters with thousands of applications. The public saw in it an opportunity to "show what Americans are really like" and redeem the image portrayed in Eugene Burdick's best-seller, "The Ugly American." Surveys revealed thousands of jobs to be done abroad. It seemed obvious that the most modern nation in the world could provide the needed manpower. Despite misgivings, Congress baptized the experiment by overwhelming votes.
This article challenges the notion that it is appropriate for Foreign Service officers to routinely occupy senior policymaking positions in the State Department. As a recent "political" ambassador who has also served at a senior level in domestic departments of our government, I confess that I ended my ambassadorial stint with less than friendly feelings toward the Foreign Service as a whole. Since then, reflecting as dispassionately as possible on my own observations and looking with some care into past history, I have concluded that the frictions that have arisen almost continuously between the Service and successive Presidents (and their political appointees) have their roots deep in the system of appointments itself-and that they lend themselves to constructive remedies.

Sign-up for free weekly updates from ForeignAffairs.com.