From political intrigue to personal mishaps, a former Canadian ambassador to Iraq examines what Netflix’s hit series gets right about diplomacy — and why its most improbable moments sometimes ring true.
Spoiler alert: This article contains spoilers for Season 4 of Netflix’s The Diplomat.
Apparently, everyone is watching The Diplomat. A client at work, a sommelier friend in Slovakia, a senator I used to work with. Few viewers have endured the rituals of briefing book preparation or the scramble of a prime ministerial visit. Yet all are hooked. What is it about this Netflix series that makes such compelling viewing?
Season 4 was a mishmash of Russian nuclear superweapons, American Manifest Destiny and fashion mishaps. It all rang true, with the exception, perhaps, of the nuclear weapons. And it makes the profession of diplomacy very intriguing.
How close is all this to an actual diplomatic assignment? I served 30 years in Canada’s Foreign Service, culminating as Canada’s ambassador to Iraq. Frankly, I think the writers and consultants have done a brilliant job of extracting the anecdotes and intrigues that are part of everyday diplomatic life, across all Foreign Service streams and at every level.
Women, Power and the Art of Diplomacy
The US ambassador to the UK, Kate Wyler (played by Keri Russell), is portrayed as an unlikely femme fatale on the British diplomatic scene. With her air-dried hair and uniformly dark suits, she is never seen reading books or hunched over a computer. Yet she delivers her key messages with the precision of a nuclear scientist and the panache of a Fox News commentator. In my 30 years in the Foreign Service, it never occurred to me to dispense with briefing notes altogether.
Among the many reasons I find The Diplomat compelling is its portrayal of women operating in the traditionally male domain of geopolitics. Kate Wyler has dedicated her life to shaping the course of world affairs, standing up for what she believes is right and trying, against considerable odds, to make the world a better place. Her identity is defined by her convictions, her intellect and her professional ambitions. There are no children, family obligations or cookie recipes defining who she is. Her principal domestic crisis is usually her husband.
I identified with her focus on work and her fascination with the core peace and security aspects of diplomacy. Like Kate, I sought during my career to hold substantive diplomatic assignments in locations including the Palestinian Territories, South Sudan and Iraq, rather than the world capitals that offer a lovely quality of life but so many ceremonial duties. The series launches with Kate resisting a redeployment from her planned appointment as US ambassador to Afghanistan — a consequential assignment — to London.
Time and again, Kate, with the occasional nudge from her ambassador husband, fellow diplomat Hal, appears almost single-handedly responsible for averting hostilities between Britain and Iran, Britain and Russia, and even among NATO allies.
While all diplomats everywhere aspire to such influence, it should come as no surprise that these moments to alter the trajectory of international relations and tip the balance of global power are rare. Most of us would have settled for getting headquarters to return our calls. When opportunities arise, it is likely in the context of high-stakes negotiations or multilateral deliberations. Mediation and negotiations can take years rather than hours. And while the US is often the most vocal player at the table, middle powers — Canada and others — sometimes weigh in.
The series also gets something important right about the moral ambiguities of diplomatic work. In a flashback to Kate’s service in Baghdad, a colleague proposes allowing the execution of a detainee described as a “butcher.” Kate argues to Hal, her ambassador and boss at the time, that executing him would benefit an Iran-backed Shia coalition and undermine the prospects of a viable secular party in Iraq’s elections. Hal agrees that the detainee should remain in custody. Diplomatic decisions often involve choosing between deeply unpalatable alternatives, and the choices are rarely clear-cut. Decisions determining life and death may take place over a few drinks in a shoddy bar in Baghdad between two flirting staff members.
The scene also captures the intimacy of relationships forged in difficult diplomatic postings, the blurring of professional and personal loyalties, and the way careers can be shaped by decisions made far from headquarters.
Sex, Lies and Diplomatic Mishaps
The relationship between Ambassador Kate and Ambassador Hal offers another intriguing dimension: the possibility of a partnership between two formidable professionals who can navigate geopolitical crises and still share a toothbrush at the end of the day. I didn’t have that kind of relationship while serving as ambassador to Iraq, but I do now. Hal’s interference in Kate’s work is frequently outrageous, yet she has the intelligence and confidence to embrace his advice when it is sound and dismiss it when it is not. For women navigating the traditionally male world of geopolitics, there is something appealing about a partner who can match your intellect, respect your ambitions and still make you laugh.
Of course, even formidable diplomats are prone to decidedly undignified mishaps. In one memorable scene, Kate walks into a colleague’s office in Baghdad with her underwear accidentally caught on her trousers, inadvertently exposing a hurried and clandestine liaison. I can’t claim to have made that particular blunder, but I have been known to rush between meetings in a less-than-composed state. Once, in Paris, I emerged from the ladies’ room with a length of toilet paper trailing behind my heels. Fortunately, the incident escaped the attention of the French diplomatic corps.
And while we’re on the subject of art imitating life, I would be remiss not to mention Kate’s unapologetic use of flirtation as a diplomatic tool. Her sex appeal opens doors, loosens tongues and occasionally complicates matters. In my own career, I found that energy, charm and femininity could be tremendous assets in gaining access to people who might otherwise have been less forthcoming. Occasionally, however, they were also occupational hazards.
I recall one minister, in a country that shall remain nameless, who professed to observe strict rules governing his interactions with women outside his marriage. Yet he sought every opportunity to meet with me, invariably greeting me with an overzealous bear hug and parting with a peck on the cheek. Our meetings ran considerably longer than necessary, but they also yielded a wealth of information and political intelligence that proved valuable to my government.
The Diplomat gets something right about the role of personal chemistry in diplomacy. Charm, attraction and the occasional well-placed flirtation can open doors that formal diplomatic notes cannot. After all, a diplomat’s fundamental responsibility is to serve as the most attentive ear and watchful eye of the government she represents.
Beyond the intrigue, however, lies another reason for the series’ appeal: its unabashed idealism. It sells a vision of individuals with all their flaws, willing to work tirelessly, with grit and relentless determination, while making countless personal sacrifices in pursuit of a better world order. At the end of season 4 (spoiler alert!), Kate resigns in protest during a G7 summit after the president threatens military action against countries obstructing American ambitions. The White House chief of staff and secretary of state follow her out. Even Hal, now Vice President, appears ready to break ranks. We all need heroes, and Kate is a modern-era superhero.
Diplomacy has always been a rather untidy business, conducted by people with ambitions, convictions, appetites and occasionally questionable judgment. Netflix has simply had the good sense to put it on television.
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