Strategic Communication in the Foreign Classroom

I'm a few weeks into my classes now... long enough that I'm getting a feel for how the university system works here, how classes are conducted, and how my fellow students think. I entered this program expecting that my course material would be of only secondary importance; my primary goal was not to learn international relations (which I've studied for years), but to learn how my Jordanian classmates understand international relations. I intended to listen, ask questions, and learn about Jordanian perspectives on major foreign policy issues. I also intended to be a good representative of the United States--explaining US policy, correcting misunderstandings, and hopefully improving my fellow students' perceptions of the US.

Almost immediately, I ran into an enormous question that I've never properly considered: what exactly does it mean to represent the United States? What aspects of our country should I be defending? This became especially apparent in the second week of my class on foreign policy, when the teacher asked me to get up in front of the class, summarize Stephen Ambrose's history of American foreign policy since 1938, and lead a discussion on the book. I spent much of the time responding to questions or accusations about America's most controversial foreign policy decisions.

Very few Americans defend every aspect of their government and its policy. In fact, one of the greatest strengths of the United States is that we can all be so critical of the government. All these grueling debates hopefully lead to better policy, and when a policy fails, the American people hold their government accountable and demand change. The process is imperfect and imposes severe constraints on politicians, but it works better than the alternatives. Critical debate is foundational to American society. This is true even within government and military circles. Military journals, blogs, message forums, and squadron bars are full of debates about American foreign policy. Dissidents are widely read, discussed, and even agreed with. Journalist Tom Ricks is well-respected in the military and wrote two #1 New York Times Bestsellers about the Iraq War, but he openly says that invading Iraq may have been the worst foreign policy mistake in American history. Andrew Bacevich--also widely respected among military thinkers--presents scathing critiques of the direction of American foreign policy. I identify with many such authors, and believe that my patriotic duty as a US military officer is to scrutinize and critique policy--with the ultimate goal of helping create better policy in the future.

So if I myself believe in closely scrutinizing and debating US foreign policy, and if the government/military circles I follow all believe in scrutinizing and debating US foreign policy, it doesn't make any sense for me to stand in front of a Jordanian audience and defend every American policy choice. If I was in a position where I was actually executing policy (like an ambassador or a military commander) it might be a different story, but I'm in an academic environment. I'm speaking for myself, in the context of personal relationships with fellow students. I would be insulting my colleagues if I put on the rose-colored glasses, talked down to them, and kept silent about the vibrant debates we have amongst ourselves about policy. Also, defending every American policy simply wouldn't work. I wouldn't convince anybody of anything, and I would probably destroy my own credibility in a few minutes.

At the same time, I love the United States, want to improve its image in this part of the world, and care deeply about improving the relationship between Jordanians and Americans.

So what did I do? I decided to be honest. I tried to show my classmates the same respect I would show to American colleagues, and lead a discussion that was as honest, thoughtful, and accurate as possible.

I rebutted conspiracy theories and wrong ideas. Students had a variety of criticisms regarding American policies. Some were valid, some not. I tried to disentangle these and called students on things that were untrue. One student had read Jeremy Scahill's book Blackwater and was very critical about the US reliance on contractors. Potentially valid criticism. He also believed that American soldiers weren't doing any of the fighting in Iraq or Afghanistan, and that the US used contractors as disposable slave labor, because they could dump the bodies in the desert and hide the true casualty count. Absolutely false. I called him immediately on that. I talked about how engaged US troops were, the number of Americans killed and wounded, and how US transparency would simply never allow the kind of conspiracy he was talking about. I also talked about why the US relies on contractors and the kinds of roles they play. I also explained how controversial this practice is and how much debate it stirs up among Americans.

I tried to explain policy in the context of constraints. The United States has made plenty of foreign policy moves I don't like, but I understand why many of them were made: because policymakers had to make hard decisions between imperfect alternatives under severe constraints. Arming the mujahideen in Afghanistan had serious long-term consequences, but at the time, it may have seemed like the best option on the table given the Soviet threat. Supporting Saddam Hussein's Iraq in the 1980s looks despicable and hypocritical now, but it seemed like a necessary evil in the wake of the Iranian revolution. We talked at length about the decision to drop the atomic bomb--a decision I find morally reprehensible, but which I acknowledge may have been necessary. As Michael Walzer theorizes, wars for national survival may constitute "supreme emergencies": leaders must "embrace evil and accept guilt because, as political leaders responsible for others, they can do nothing else."

I tried to explain policy intentions. One gripe I have of far-left critics is that they attribute the worst possible motives to American policymakers. In truth, many policymakers sincerely believe they're doing the right thing--even if they are dead wrong. Most students in my class seem to believe that the US invaded Iraq solely to control oil and line the pockets of companies like Haliburton. The truth is that the architects of the Iraq war really believed that Iraq had WMD and really believed that they could plant a transformative democracy in the heart of the Middle East. Good intentions don't justify the almost criminal negligence that went into planning the war, but I hope that by explaining these intentions, I was able to show the US government is not the evil imperialist cabal some students might assume.

I tried to focus on the strengths of democratic processes. I tried to show the vibrant debate that surrounds American policy. I also tried to convey how transparent American government is, how much access journalists have, and how much scrutiny decision makers face. My professor rallied to my defense here, chastising one student for conspiracy theories and explaining that the opposition party in the US would expose and crucify any leader who tried to implement one of these conspiracies. My happiest moment of the class came when one student expressed sincere wonder that Ambrose was allowed to write so critically about the US government. That observation sounded funny to me, because the book is so mild compared to a lot of political commentary in the US, but I was happy the light bulb clicked on for him--he got a glimpse of how democracy works in America.

This was only the first of what will probably be many discussions about the United States, its policies, and its role in the world. Knowing how to approach these discussions is a learning process for me, but I feel confident that respecting my peers enough to have an honest discussion will be a better long-term approach than trying to sell propaganda. I invite feedback and advice from any of my readers.

My micro-level experience in the classroom is giving me a lot to think about regarding broader public diplomacy/strategic communication efforts, although I don't have any clear conclusions yet.