Leadership Quote by W. Averell Harriman

Diplomacy, Harriman suggests, is a two-tier theater: velvet at the top, brass knuckles downstairs. The line lands because it punctures the public fantasy that summit meetings are where the real brawling happens. In his telling, the “courteous” photo-op is not evidence of harmony; it’s a technique. Leaders perform composure because their authority depends on looking like they can sit across from an adversary without flinching. The rough work of signaling contempt, drawing red lines, and manufacturing outrage gets delegated to foreign ministers - officials with enough stature to be heard, but enough insulation to be expendable.

Harriman’s intent is quietly cynical and intensely practical, shaped by Cold War realities in which interpersonal civility functioned as strategic infrastructure. When nuclear stakes hang in the air, even enemies must keep the temperature low at the apex. Courtesy becomes a kind of diplomatic containment: you can threaten without escalating, posture without cornering, negotiate without conceding face. Meanwhile, foreign ministers act as controlled conduits for aggression: they can call someone’s bluff, lob accusations for domestic audiences, or harden a bargaining position without personally poisoning the leaders’ working relationship.

The subtext is that “tone” in international politics is policy. Insults are not emotional leaks but managed instruments, deployed by design and at the right level of the hierarchy. Harriman isn’t just describing manners; he’s describing the division of labor that lets states appear civilized while conducting ruthless competition - a reminder that the most important diplomacy often happens in the space between what’s said politely and what’s meant coldly.