The diplomats in Cairo, apparently attempting to wield the power of social media for public diplomacy, put out official tweets with an unusually conversational tone.
Security forces guard the U.S. embassy in Cairo. (Reuters)
American diplomat Larry Schwartz has gotten himself into some trouble this week. A senior public affairs officer at the U.S. embassy in Cairo, Schwartz on Tuesday wrote a much-discussed memo stating that the embassy "condemns the continuing efforts by misguided individuals to hurt the religious feelings of Muslims," as well as several defensive tweets, some of which he later deleted. For example: "This morning's condemnation (issued before protests began) still stands. As does condemnation of unjustified breach of the Embassy." Romney condemned the "apology," as he described it, and the White House quickly disavowed the memo.
State Department officials back in Washington, it turns out, had reviewed the memo and explicitly told Schwartz not to publish it, which he did anyway. "Frankly, people here did not understand it," a State Department official toldForeign Policy's Josh Rogin. "The statement was just tone deaf. It didn't provide adequate balance. We thought the references to the 9/11 attacks were inappropriate, and we strongly advised against the kind of language that talked about 'continuing efforts by misguided individuals to hurt the religious feelings of Muslims.'"
Tuesday's controversial tweets from the @USEmbassyCairo account, which Schwartz reportedly runs, were unusually provocative and political but otherwise generally consistent with the feed's noticeably conversational tone. American embassies acrosstheglobehavetaken to Twitter over the last year or two, an impressive soft power outreach to citizens of foreign countries, but the Cairo feed has stood out. Other feeds, even when they tweet frequently, tend to take the staid tone of official diplomacy, tweeting press releases, quotes from U.S. officials, and relevant headlines.
Not Cairo. The official Twitter account for the embassy to Egypt often engages directly with Egyptian Twitter users and with American journalists in Egypt, replying to their questions or forwarding their tweets. The feed can at times feel less like an outlet for official embassy news than the personal account of an American who happens to be working at the embassy. It quotes or mourns famous authors, sends out silly links about "tweeting plants!!," makes pointed references to West Wingepisodes (one of which seemed to criticize Egypt's decision to adopt an American-style presidential system), hashtags heavily, and asks, for example, "How is everyone out there on Twitter today?"
If Schwartz oversees the embassy's official Twitter feed, as Foreign Policy reported, then it's worth considering whether his unusually personal, informal style on Twitter might also inform his decision to so brazenly publish Tuesday's memo against the wishes of the State Department. After all, Schwartz grew visibly more comfortable over time in using the Twitter feed as an outlet that increasingly reflected his voice and, on issues often banal but sometimes consequential, his point of view. That this might carry over to a press release about the length of three tweets wouldn't seem shocking. If nothing else, by going forward with the memo despite the State Department specific instructions not to, Schwartz seemed to feel comfortable, in that instance, making the decision for himself as to what the American embassy would say publicly.
Despite yesterday's backlash, the U.S. embassy to Egypt's particular Twitter style seems to be continuing. The account has tweeted 25 times since Tuesday's controversy over the embassy's memo and tweets, which apparently drew Secretary of State Hillary Clinton's personal involvement and public comment from President Obama in an interview. More than half of those have been responses to other accounts. I don't know whether or not Schwartz is still involved in the account, but the account got into a surprisingly heated, somewhat bitchy exchange with the official Twitter account for the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood, with which Egyptian President Mohammed Morsi is strongly affiliated:
.@ikhwanweb Thanks. By the way, have you checked out your own Arabic feeds? I hope you know we read those too.
Twitter is a social medium, and it both encourages informality and rewards users who embrace that more conversational style. It does not reward users who put out only staid press releases and official statement. The diplomats who run the account of the U.S. embassy to Egypt seems to have understood this, attempting to master Twitter's more conversation style to maximize its public diplomacy potential. But one problem with this is that, if succeeding on Twitter outreach means running the feed like a real person instead of a faceless bureaucrat, does that make the feed reflect the individual behind it more than the broader United States and United States government, which is what the feed and embassy are meant to represent?
More social interaction and more informality is a good thing in social media terms, but the goal of the @USEmbassyCairo feed is presumably not to be good at social media, it's to be good at official government diplomacy. Those aren't always the same thing. The minor Twitter spat above, and maybe this week's imbroglio over the tweets that State Department officials seem to consider ill-considered, are a reminder that this approach, for all its success, also has downsides and risks.
Hillary Clinton’s realistic attitude is the only thing that can effect change in today’s political climate.
Bernie Sanders and Ted Cruz have something in common. Both have an electoral strategy predicated on the ability of a purist candidate to revolutionize the electorate—bringing droves of chronic non-voters to the polls because at last they have a choice, not an echo—and along the way transforming the political system. Sanders can point to his large crowds and impressive, even astonishing, success at tapping into a small-donor base that exceeds, in breadth and depth, the remarkable one built in 2008 by Barack Obama. Cruz points to his extraordinarily sophisticated voter-identification operation, one that certainly seemed to do the trick in Iowa.
But is there any real evidence that there is a hidden “sleeper cell” of potential voters who are waiting for the signal to emerge and transform the electorate? No. Small-donor contributions are meaningful and a sign of underlying enthusiasm among a slice of the electorate, but they represent a tiny sliver even of that slice; Ron Paul’s success at fundraising (and his big crowds at rallies) misled many analysts into believing that he would make a strong showing in Republican primaries when he ran for president. He flopped.
Thenew Daily Show host, Trevor Noah, is smooth and charming, but he hasn’t found his edge.
It’s a psychic law of the American workplace: By the time you give your notice, you’ve already left. You’ve checked out, and for the days or weeks that remain, a kind of placeholder-you, a you-cipher, will be doing your job. It’s a law that applies equally to dog walkers, accountants, and spoof TV anchormen. Jon Stewart announced that he was quitting The Daily Show in February 2015, but he stuck around until early August, and those last months had a restless, frazzled, long-lingering feel. A smell of ashes was in the air. The host himself suddenly looked quite old: beaky, pique-y, hollow-cheeky. For 16 years he had shaken his bells, jumped and jangled in his little host’s chair, the only man on TV who could caper while sitting behind a desk. Flash back to his first episode as the Daily Show host, succeeding Craig Kilborn: January 11, 1999, Stewart with floppy, luscious black hair, twitching in a new suit (“I feel like this is my bar mitzvah … I have a rash like you wouldn’t believe.”) while he interviews Michael J. Fox.
The championship game descends on a city failing to deal with questions of affordability and inclusion.
SAN FRANCISCO—The protest kicked off just a few feet from Super Bowl City, the commercial playground behind security fences on the Embarcadero, where football fans were milling about drinking beer, noshing on $18 bacon cheeseburgers, and lining up for a ride on a zip line down Market Street.
The protesters held up big green camping tents painted with slogans such as “End the Class War” and “Stop Stealing Our Homes,” and chanted phrases blaming San Francisco Mayor Ed Lee for a whole range of problems, including the catchy “Hey Hey, Mayor Lee, No Penalty for Poverty.” They blocked the sidewalk, battling with tourists, joggers, and city workers, some of whom were trying to wheel their bikes through the crowd to get to the ferries that would take them home.
I coined the term—now I’ve come back to fix what I started.
O reader, hear my plea: I am the victim of semantic drift.
Four months ago, I coined the term “Berniebro” to describe a phenomenon I saw on Facebook: Men, mostly my age, mostly of my background, mostly with my political beliefs, were hectoring their friends about how great Bernie was even when their friends wanted to do something else, like talk about the NBA.
In the post, I tried to gently suggest that maybe there were other ways to advance Sanders’s beliefs, many of which I share. I hinted, too, that I was not talking about every Sanders supporter. I did this subtly, by writing: “The Berniebro is not every Sanders supporter.”
Then, 28,000 people shared the story on Facebook. The Berniebro was alive! Immediately, I started getting emails: Why did I hate progressivism? Why did I joke about politics? And how dare I generalize about every Bernie Sanders supporter?
Overly persistent pursuit is a staple of movie love stories, but a new study shows that it could normalize some troubling behaviors.
Romantic comedies are supposed to be escapist—a jaunt into a better, more colorful world where journalists can afford giant New York apartments and no obstacle to love is too great to overcome.
Except that when you think about it, some of the behavior portrayed as romantic in these movies is, objectively, creepy. The Love Actually sign guy was totally out of line, and honestly, Lloyd Dobler from Say Anything was pushing it with his famous jukebox. Even the supposedly “pure” love of cute baby-faced Joseph Gordon Levitt as Cameron in 10 Things I Hate About You involves teaching himself just enough French that he can pose as a tutor and hang out with his beloved. Oh, and hiring a guy to go out with her sister.
Bernie Sanders doggedly pursued his one big idea about reforming American politics, while Hillary Clinton detailed her many proposals for change.
With the New Hampshire primaries just days away, Democrats Hillary Clinton and Bernie Sanders met on a debate stage in Durham on Thursday. In their first one-on-one matchup, the duo seemed determined to illustrate Archilochus’s classic binary between the fox, who knows many things, and the hedgehog, who knows one important thing. Sanders knows that what the country needs—the only thing it needs—is a political and economic revolution. Clinton knows the country needs progressive policies on a range of matters and a pragmatic, realistic strategy to implement them.
That divide was clear from their opening statements, with Sanders immediately jumping to his familiar mantra about a rigged economy and a corrupt campaign-finance scheme. Clinton’s answer was not so laser focused, discussing a general need for the nation to “live up to our values in the 21st century,” and checking off not just the economy, but racism, sexism, and more. This split is not new, of course, but with Martin O’Malley off the stage and out of the race, and the Democratic contest tighter than ever, the division has never been so clear. It led to an unusually interesting debate, with the two candidates frequently addressing each other directly and delving into detail.
U.S. presidential candidates are steering the country toward a terror trap.
For close to a decade, the trauma of the Iraq War left Americans wary of launching new wars in the Middle East. That caution is largely gone. Most of the leading presidential candidates demand that the United States escalate its air war in Iraq and Syria, send additional Special Forces, or enforce a buffer zone, which the head of Central Command, General Lloyd Austin, has said would require deploying U.S. ground troops. Most Americans now favor doing just that.
The primary justification for this new hawkishness is stopping the Islamic State, or isis, from striking the United States. Which is ironic, because at least in the short term, America’s intervention will likely spark more terrorism against the United States, thus fueling demands for yet greater military action. After a period of relative restraint, the United States is heading back into the terror trap.
I agree with David Graham’s summing up of the “hedgehog-vs.-fox” nature of the Democratic debate last night, and with nearly all of the Atlantic liveblogging that is now collected below David’s piece. (I missed the liveblogging boat because I hadn’t thought I’d see the debate. When I did, I sent out penséeson Twitter.)
Three points about the debate:
1) As an exchange of ideas—and as a display of contrasting outlooks, casts of mind, temperament, goals, frames of reference, theories of politics, etc — these two hours were more valuable than all the previous stretches of “debate” put together.
More simply, this one actually was a debate, in contrast to the previous Survivor-style contests for attention or Wrestlemania-style displays of posturing. (By the way, if you haven’t seen the video of Donald Trump shaving Vince McMahon’s head in a wrestling ring, watch it soon.) The others have been side-by-side displays of putdowns, talking points, and pleas for attention. This one was two people arguing about policies, past records, and future plans.
What happened when 11 exiles armed themselves for a violent night in the Gambia
In the dark hours of the morning on December 30, 2014, eight men gathered in a graveyard a mile down the road from the official residence of Yahya Jammeh, the president of the Gambia. The State House overlooks the Atlantic Ocean from the capital city of Banjul, on an island at the mouth of the Gambia River. It was built in the 1820s and served as the governor’s mansion through the end of British colonialism, in 1965. Trees and high walls separate the house from the road, obscuring any light inside.
The men were dressed in boots and dark pants, and as two of them stood guard, the rest donned Kevlar helmets and leather gloves, strapped on body armor and CamelBaks, and loaded their guns. Their plan was to storm the presidential compound, win over the military, and install their own civilian leader. They hoped to gain control of the country by New Year’s Day.
Readers share their own experiences and discuss the topic more generally.
Prompted by Emma Green’s note on the forthcoming Supreme Court case Whole Women’s Health v. Cole, for which a group of female lawyers filed a document discussing their own abortions, many readers followed suit with their own stories.