Diplomacy comes with briefing books, protocol officers, carefully chosen gifts and armies of advisers devoted to making sure nobody says the wrong thing, and sometimes none of that helps.
As Prime Minister Anthony Albanese has discovered over the past week or so, even a couple of melons can cause trouble.
His appearance on comedian Nikki Osborne’s Bush Deep podcast has sparked days of political argument, demands for an apology, undoubtedly embarrassment, and even a referral to the Australian Federal Police over the leaking of diplomatic correspondence.
It has been dubbed “melon-gate”, but Albanese is hardly the first world leader to discover how quickly diplomacy can go off script.
From touching the Queen to threatening to “shirtfront” Vladimir Putin and, yes, vomiting on a Japanese prime minister, here are 10 memorable moments when international relations became considerably less diplomatic.
It started with what was actually a significant diplomatic gift.
During Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi’s visit to Australia in May, she presented Albanese with two prized Crown melons. Then came Albanese’s July appearance on Osborne’s podcast.
Talking about the gift, Albanese said Takaichi had brought two melons “as you do”, while making hand movements in front of his chest, then Osborne followed with the Pamela Anderson comparison.
That distinction is important: Albanese did not make the Pamela Anderson remark, although critics have argued his gesture and participation in the exchange carried an obvious innuendo.
The podcast initially attracted limited attention before the story gathered momentum weeks later, particularly after former Japanese ambassador to Australia Shingo Yamagami criticised the exchange. It then exploded into Australian political and media debate.
Opposition Leader Angus Taylor and other Coalition figures demanded an apology. Albanese refused, insisting there had been no sexual intent and defending his record of strengthening relations with Japan.
Then another controversy erupted over a leaked Japanese diplomatic cable, which reportedly said Tokyo believed Australian media coverage had sensationalised the episode and that there had been no ill intent. Coalition MPs referred the leak to the AFP, while Japan itself has been considerably less excited about the affair.
Japanese ambassador Kazuhiro Suzuki publicly played down the episode, pointing instead to the personal trust established between Takaichi and Albanese.
And there is little sign of diplomatic relations grinding to a halt. Japanese Defence Minister Shinjiro Koizumi is due in Canberra on Tuesday for high-level talks with Deputy Prime Minister Richard Marles covering defence cooperation and Australia’s acquisition of Japanese Mogami-class frigates.
Melon-gate may yet prove a bigger crisis in Canberra than Tokyo.
Paul Keating never had much trouble finding a colourful word.
In 1993, after Malaysian prime minister Mahathir Mohamad declined to attend the inaugural APEC leaders’ meeting in Seattle, Keating described him as “recalcitrant”.
The word did not travel well.
Mahathir demanded an apology and the row became serious enough for reports of possible trade and investment boycotts and a downgrading of diplomatic relations.
Keating explained that he had used “recalcitrant” as shorthand for someone standing apart from the group, after Mahathir himself had spoken about thumbing his nose at people to get noticed.
He later expressed regret if the remark had caused offence, while stopping short of an outright apology. Two senior Australian ministers were dispatched to Malaysia as the government tried to repair the relationship.
Quite a lot of trouble for one adjective!
Oh boy, Keating again. A year earlier, he had already managed to upset parts of Britain without saying a word.
During Queen Elizabeth II’s 1992 visit to Australia, the prime minister placed a guiding hand on her back and the British tabloids reacted as though he’d attempted a rugby tackle or worse.
Keating was accused of breaking royal protocol and famously christened the “Lizard of Oz”.
For Australians, the reaction was arguably funnier than the offence. A hand on the back had somehow become a Commonwealth controversy.
It also ensured that photographs of the moment would follow Keating for years.
There are verbal diplomatic disasters and then there is throwing up on the prime minister of Japan.
During a state dinner in Tokyo in January 1992, US president George H.W. Bush suddenly became ill, vomited into the lap of Japanese prime minister Kiichi Miyazawa and collapsed.
Bush, then 67, was suffering from gastroenteritis and recovered quickly. Miyazawa displayed considerably greater composure than most dinner companions might have managed, helping the stricken president as cameras captured a moment neither leader was likely to forget.
Jimmy Carter arrived in Warsaw in December 1977 intending to tell the Polish people how interested he was in their future and his interpreter made that rather more complicated.
Contemporary reports described Carter’s remarks being translated so awkwardly that comments about understanding the Polish people’s desires took on distinctly more intimate overtones. Other translations appeared to suggest the US president had abandoned America permanently.
The episode subsequently became legendary, with increasingly colourful versions claiming Carter had announced his carnal desire for the Polish people.
Like many great political stories, however, this one appears to have improved considerably in the retelling.
There certainly were translation problems, but later research suggests some of the most outrageous versions became embellished over the decades.
The real story was awkward enough.
There are probably better times to joke about bombing Russia than during the Cold War.
In August 1984, Ronald Reagan was preparing for his weekly radio address when he decided to have some fun during a microphone test. He joked that he had signed legislation outlawing Russia forever, adding: “We begin bombing in five minutes.”
The comment wasn’t broadcast live, but it was recorded and soon leaked.
The Soviet Union was unimpressed, Reagan’s political opponents accused him of recklessness and Moscow condemned the remark at a time when US-Soviet tensions were already high.
Broadcasting rule No.1: always assume the microphone is on… especially if you’re considered the most important decision maker on the planet.
Tony, Tony, Tony. In 2014, Tony Abbott introduced international diplomacy to one of Australian football’s less subtle manoeuvres.
Ahead of Vladimir Putin’s visit to Australia for the G20 summit, Abbott was asked how he intended to confront the Russian president over the downing of Malaysia Airlines flight MH17.
“I’m going to shirtfront Mr Putin – you bet I am,” Abbott declared.
Australians knew exactly what he meant.
Much of the rest of the world suddenly required a lesson in Australian Rules football.
Abbott was talking about confronting Putin forcefully rather than literally charging through the Russian leader’s chest. When the two men eventually met at the G20, the encounter proved considerably more conventional.
Sydney spent enormous effort preparing for the 2007 APEC leaders’ summit.
Then US president George W. Bush arrived and thanked John Howard for hosting OPEC.
“Thank you for being such a fine host for the OPEC summit,” Bush told his audience before quickly correcting himself.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t finished.
Bush also referred to Australian forces as “Austrian troops”.
Confusing Australia and Austria is annoying enough when it happens to your luggage. When it happens during a presidential address in Sydney, it’s harder to explain.
During a 1976 presidential debate with Jimmy Carter, US president Gerald Ford was discussing relations with the Soviet Union when he produced one of the great foreign policy clangers.
“There is no Soviet domination of Eastern Europe,” Ford declared.
Moderator Max Frankel was sufficiently surprised to effectively ask Ford whether he really meant it. He did.
Ford continued by arguing that Poland, Romania and Yugoslavia did not consider themselves dominated by Moscow and for millions living behind the Iron Curtain, it was an extraordinary assertion, and the comment followed Ford for the remainder of the presidential campaign.
Career planning can be important.
In May 2016, Boris Johnson won a Spectator magazine competition for writing an extraordinarily rude limerick about Turkish president Recep Tayyip Erdoğan.
Two months later, Theresa May appointed Johnson Britain’s Foreign Secretary, which meant he was suddenly responsible for conducting diplomacy with, among others, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan.
When Johnson arrived in Turkey as Foreign Secretary that September, the poem was inevitably raised. Asked whether he would apologise, Johnson dismissed the issue as “trivia”.
Erdoğan apparently had more pressing matters to discuss.
The two got on with the meeting.
History may judge that rather differently to Canberra’s politicians.
Japan has played down the episode and the two countries continue to deepen their defence relationship, with Japanese Defence Minister Shinjiro Koizumi in Canberra this week for high-level talks.
Compared with threatening to shirtfront Vladimir Putin, insulting a Malaysian prime minister, accidentally announcing the bombing of Russia or vomiting on the Japanese PM, Albanese probably has some distance to travel before earning a place in diplomacy’s hall of shame. And I haven’t even touched on Trump!
Still, there’s one useful lesson from the past week.
If a foreign leader gives you two melons, perhaps just say thank you.
Comments 0
Join the conversation. Comments are reviewed before they appear.
Be the first to comment.
Join the conversation
Tell us who you are to post a comment. We'll remember you next time.