Being an ambassador now involves more than just holding one’s drink and making social chit chat, so perhaps we aught to select with more care, argues Peter Vale
THERE has to be a better way to pick our ambassadors. Aside from the fumble over Allan Boesak, in the past month there have been two dropped catches: the rescinded ambassadorial appointments to Indonesia and Singapore.
The present system has two variants — political and career. The former — which brought the Boesak case to the fore — has the president, on the advice of others, put up a name to the cabinet. This is, more or less, a directive to the Department of Foreign Affairs; certainly it is the president’s privilege to select and appoint ambassadors.
In the old South Africa, this procedure didn’t mean much; like the rest of the government, ambassadors belonged to the ruling minority. Cronyism and reward for services rendered played a big role in the making of these appointments. Dr Jannie Roux — successively apartheid’s chief jailer, Breyten Breytenbach’s tormentor and chief of PW Botha’s office — is still the ambassador in Vienna.
Based on the closed British model, the second track is firmly within the Department of Foreign Affairs. The senior bureaucrat, the director general, makes an ambassadorial recommendation to the minister. In most cases the minister will agree — the assumption is the department knows best, and a recommendation is passed to cabinet for approval. The presidential stamp is the end of the procedure.
Again in the old South Africa, the public was not engaged. As will become increasingly evident with the passing of the years, many of the ambassadors — to twist the old aphorism — were men perfectly happy to lie abroad in defence of “the system”.
But things are no longer so simple; not only is the world infinitely more complicated, but South Africa’s new world has unleashed into the public domain terms like accountability, transparency and mandate.
As a result, no longer do charm and the ability to hold one’s drinks guarantee a successful ambassadorial career. These may help but specialist knowledge, strong connections, experience and hard work are the minimum requirements to get the smallest return on an increasingly expensive commodity. Integrity, dedication, loyalty — the essentials of professionalism — will enhance the investment.
In the increasingly important multilateral area — like the Geneva posting which may now elude Boesak — a grasp of international affairs is essential. One of the tragedies, parenthetically, about the current storm is Boesak was, probably, uniquely equipped for his role. Aside from his strong international profile, for the past three years he has been the only South African member of an international commission which has looked into the future of the United Nations system.
Not only the world but South Africa, too, has dynamic and challenging expectations of its representatives. They should share the commitment to building the new society; to transforming the country, including the civil service; to the objectives of a new foreign policy; and to the defence of the new democracy. As representatives of all the country’s people, rather than defenders of sectional interests, its ambassadors also need an understanding of — and a sympathy for — South Africa’s rich cultural diversity.
To the chagrin of many would-be interlocuters, South Africa’s transition has shown that its people have an abundance of diplomatic talent. This is why there is every promise that the country can become a potent diplomatic force in a troubled world.
So why the furtive style of appointing ambassadors? Wouldn’t it be far better to open the process to greater public participation?
Perhaps a new process might begin with an expert panel which would canvass, within the relevant state departments, the name of a suitable candidate. This might be followed by a peer review where tests of knowledge and professionalism might be applied. Towards the end of the procedure, the Parliamentary Select Committees on Foreign Affairs and on Trade and Industry might interview the candidate and pass an opinion. This would enhance the role of the Department of Foreign Affairs; while the president’s prerogative would be enriched by the public scrutiny. Throughout it all, the press should be involved; through this public awareness of international relations and foreign policy would be deepened.
Given the country’s recent experience, these are not radical proposals. In two or three instances — the Constitutional Court was the latest — where openness has occurred, the very best South Africans have been drawn into public scrutiny. If anything, our democracy and our knowledge of public affairs was enriched by a sense of procedural propriety — serious people were about the earnest business of choosing the best people.
The three recent cases from the foreign ministry have shown, many will argue, the opposite of all this. But the questionable judgment and the absence of open procedures have drawn attention to a process which needs to be reconsidered in the light of the changes which have transformed our country and our world.
After all, even with his towering reputation, if South Africa’s wicketkeeper, Dave Richardson, kept dropping catches and fumbling the ball, the country would be wondering why it was that our cricket selectors kept picking him to represent South Africa.
Peter Vale, professor of Southern African studies at the University of the Western Cape, writes on international relations for the WM&G