MANY years ago, a veteran diplomatic correspondent regretted the decline of d'marches from foreign offices. The drama over the Olympic torch reminded me of his lament and may provide relief. A d'marche, the correspondent explained, is a letter to another country asking what in blue blazes it thinks it's doing. In contrast, an ultimatum tells the country to stop what it's doing or unpleasant consequences will follow. “Everything is an ultimatum these days,” he said. “If a country gets an ultimatum, it has to go to war or be seen to back down, and that is unpleasant for the government and for the public. If you send a d'marche, the other government can do what you want it to do and pass it off as its own idea. A d'marche can avert a war; an ultimatum can start one.” As the word itself suggests, the use of d'marches waxed in the 17th through 19th centuries, when French was the language of diplomacy. Dealing with other countries in English is more like muscling one's way straight to the threat. But countries need something with more possibilities than the binary choice of war or not-war. Even the often bellicose Winston Churchill said “jaw-jaw is better than war-war.” There are means short of war that countries still use. One is to recall its ambassador “for consultation.” Even that is going the way of the d'marche because many so-called statesmen are not schooled well enough to get the message if an ambassador is called home. Another is the trade blockade or embargo. Except in rare cases, embargoes leak. But that's good. It makes them an act short of war. If a blockade were as tight as members of Congress pretend that it will be when they demand one, the country being blockaded would have to treat it as an ultimatum. It is not certain that anyone on the seventh floor of the State Department understands any of that. But the Olympic Games give them a new opening to use nuance in ways they can understand. The thing about the Olympic Games is that the world has to solemnly pretend that they are holy, noble and inspiring and not just a global advertising venue. Opening the games in 1988, President Reagan got a catch in his throat as he talked about how peace would break out if the “young people down there” were in charge of the world. Blood dopers presumably would rule. It was President Carter who took the sanctimony to its ultimate logic by organizing a boycott of the 1980 Olympics in Moscow because the Soviets invaded Afghanistan. Moscow acted in a tit-for-tat manner against the Olympics in Los Angeles four years later. Total boycott is almost overkill. With the Carter boycott, though, nuance was possible. Some countries sent their athletes but not their flags. The athletes marched under the Olympic flag. That taught the oppressors of Afghanistan almost as much of a lesson as the absence of American athletes. In other words, nothing at all. The impact of Olympic Games is vastly overrated. Adolf Hitler saw Jesse Owens and Ralph Metcalfe run his Aryan supermen into the dust in Berlin in 1936, and it didn't alter his racism by a single adjective. Now, more nuance is possible. Here is what can be done: One sixth of an ultimatum: Hide the torch. See San Francisco. One third of an ultimatum: The head of state goes to the Games but not to the opening ceremony. See Prime Minister Gordon Brown of the United Kingdom. One half of an ultimatum: The country's team goes but the head of state stays home. See President Nicolas Sarkozy of France. Two-thirds of an ultimatum: The team goes but the flag stays home. Five-sixths of an ultimatum, equivalent to canceling leaves in the armed forces: The Olympic team stays home. D'tente: The head of state goes to the Olympics, says it's because he likes games. Have your striped pants cleaned and pressed. Diplomacy is becoming an Olympic sport. – Cox News Service __
