The Non-Consolidated Movement

The recent ups and downs caused at home and abroad by the Slovenian prime minister’s comments on the US election results reminded me of an episode from a good year and a half ago that showed, in an amusing way, how human under the skin even the people who hold the reins of international relations are. In July 2019, I took part in an international conference on media freedom in London, organized by the British government together with Canada, which wanted to give the impression that it could play a visible international role on its own, without the European Union. The conference included a formal dinner hosted by the then British foreign secretary, Jeremy Hunt, for his colleagues at Lancaster House near Buckingham Palace, and the guest of honor was the well-known lawyer and human rights campaigner Amal Clooney. As the highest-ranking representative of the Council of Europe at the conference, I too was invited to the dinner. After the meal, during which the participants chewed over and digested all the global challenges, the ministers got up, smoothed their trouser legs, tugged their cufflinks out of their sleeves and tightened the knots of their ties, and then lined up like schoolboys for selfies with the patient Amal. The last thing I heard as I left the hall was a shout addressed to me in one of the languages of our former country: “Come on, brother, hold my bag so I can get a picture with the woman.” What does this have to do with the prime minister’s tweets, you ask? Nothing other than that statesmen are also people of flesh and blood. Just as they cannot resist the charm of the beautiful (and above all smart and capable) Amal, they very probably don’t like it when someone insults and attacks them without cause.

In Slovenia, at the time of the notorious tweets, many came to the prime minister’s defense or at least tried to downplay the effect of what he had done, saying it was a personal opinion that no one would associate with Slovenia. Of course, just as Trump’s tweets didn’t damage the international reputation of the United States. In short, between the lines one could sense the hope that the damage would not be too great because others would be smarter and more mature than us. Perhaps, but here I would remind you of the anecdote above. International movers and shakers can also be vain, and if they are vain, they can also hold grudges. The notion of international relations governed by an invisible algorithm of responsibility, interests, judgment and rules, dressed in a pinstriped suit, does not, of course, stand up to serious criticism, still less in a world shaped by the prime minister’s favorite. Paradoxically, what protects our chief tweeter to some extent from the consequences of his own rowdiness is precisely that Biden is not Trump.

During my almost thirty-year career in international relations, I have taken part in many meetings with statesmen from Europe and the world. I met Barack Obama before he became president, and Bill Clinton after he had finished his term in the White House. I was twice in meetings with Putin, whom it would, of course, be hard to meet at a time when he was not president. Among the personalities who have stayed in my memory are Shimon Peres, Benjamin Netanyahu, Mahmoud Abbas, King Hussein of Jordan, David Cameron, John McCain, the Pope, Ibrahim Rugova, Franjo Tuđman, Vojislav Koštunica, Eduard Shevardnadze, Viktor Yushchenko, his namesake Yanukovych and Yulia Tymoshenko, several different sets of politicians from various parts of our former common state, including a few clients of The Hague, and I could go on. Observing these people in person, away from the TV cameras, sometimes gives you insight not only into their political views but also into their personal qualities. None of them, with the possible exception of Francis, suffers from a lack of vanity or too small an ego. Some of them, not all, are interesting and witty; many are also hot-tempered and caustic. This applies even to the politest among them. Read how Barack Obama described Nicolas Sarkozy in his recently published memoir, A Promised Land. Small in stature and big on emotional outbursts and overblown rhetoric. And all over the map. As if that were a bad thing. Being on the map.

We can take comfort in the fact that Slovenia is not France, so I too think the tweets will not significantly affect our relations with the United States. Not so much because I believe Biden is prepared to forgive us, but more because I doubt he will spend much time on us. It is quite possible that he will think of Slovenia even less often than Melania Trump. So there won’t be a crisis center for relations with Slovenia in the West Wing of the White House any time soon, but if and when a file related to our country lands on the desk in the Oval Office, we can expect a note at the bottom of the last page: “Mr. President, in case it helps, here are screenshots of tweets from the time of your election.”

But while we can hope that, because of our smallness, we will somehow get away with it in relations with the Americans, that does not mean the tweets will have no consequences at all for our foreign-policy reputation, influence and position. Especially among our European partners. Anyone who claims otherwise evidently doesn’t know much about international relations. Make no mistake, it is not only this government that has problems with foreign policy. In the past, the post of foreign minister was often merely a sinecure with a driver and bodyguards, mainly intended for dealing with domestic politics. As I wrote some time ago, Slovenia is not as small as we can make it ourselves, small and insignificant. Until recently, in international politics we mostly preferred to be quiet and without ideas. Instead of having clear positions on important issues, we preferred to shuffle our feet and wait to see which way the wind would blow.

It must be admitted that today things are different. We are not quiet; we have ideas and clear positions. Unfortunately, not always the smartest ones. We have marched smartly and without complexes onto the international map. Unfortunately, not always in the right direction. The world has noticed us, true, but that does not mean it respects us. Small states cannot build their international position on political, economic or military power. They do not get international influence automatically; they first have to earn it by the sweat of a smart foreign policy. For Slovenia, alliances are of key importance. This is especially true of the European Union, whose presidency we will hold in seven months’ time. But membership of the EU alone does not bring either influence or power. That is the bitter lesson of all our failures so far on the European stage, from Piran to Teran wine. Influence and power, and with them the ability to protect one’s own interests, are built within the European Union too, gradually, step by step, strategically and years in advance. International trust and reputation have to be earned, maintained and consolidated. How consolidated we are today, judge for yourselves. Or read what others write and say about us. It is hard to be a foreign-policy heavyweight and international influencer, or at least someone taken somewhat seriously in the world, if the response to every statement or initiative begins with the question: “Isn’t that the one who insulted Biden and congratulated Trump?” Gaining international standing takes time. It can be lost overnight, and that cannot remain without consequences. For You, for Me, for Slovenia. For tomorrow. Let us hope not forever.