Breaking with diplomatic convention

Breaking with diplomatic convention

Uly Siregar, Contributor, Jakarta

Cutting through the traffic on his 20-year-old Vespa, broad smile
out front, suit jacket and tie trailing behind, Kirk Coningham
cuts an unconventional figure for a senior diplomat.

The "CD" plate on the Vespa is the only giveaway.

Dispensing with convention became a signature of his approach
to diplomacy during his four-year posting as public affairs
counselor at the Australian Embassy in Jakarta from 2000 to 2004.

A passionate advocate of diplomacy, the 42-year-old father of
two spurned the traditional niceties of diplomatic society,
seeking instead to connect with Indonesia at a more fundamental
level.

Through public diplomacy he sought to engage with ordinary
people rather than the elite of traditional diplomacy.

The unconventional plan of engagement of the former military
officer-turned-diplomat delivered rapid results.

"I arrived in the wake of the East Timor crisis to be told
that, given the hostile climate, there was little I would be able
to accomplish. But I soon found talking with journalists, taxi
drivers and people on the street gave me a clear understanding of
the genuine feelings of Indonesians on the issue," he said.

"I found them to be angry about the Australian policy, but
equally anxious to play the role of welcoming host. The warmth I
was shown quickly dispelled the caricature I had formed of the
implacable Javanese. The open friendliness of the people I was
meeting encouraged me to step out of my comfort zone and
explore."

The policy of open engagement, which included a strategy of
saying "yes" brought a series of rapid challenges. Coningham's
first test of his rudimentary language skills was to co-host the
opening of the Sydney Olympics on Indonesian TV.

"It's tough to do three hours of commentary on the opening of
the Olympics when you don't even know the Indonesian for 'Olympic
torch'."

Other challenges followed quickly, including being asked to
perform poetry readings and singing and playing Waltzing Matilda
on Indonesian TV as a last-minute replacement.

During the people-smuggling crisis Coningham also successfully
used the Indonesian media in a deliberate campaign to raise
awareness of the evils concerned.

The campaign included traveling to remote fishing villages to
warn fishermen of the dangers of becoming involved in people-
smuggling. Again, the campaign was based on understanding, not
accusation.

Using the slogan "Don't become a victim" the program sought to
educate, not admonish.

After the Bali bombings Coningham became the Australian
government's spokesperson and also a staunch supporter and
advocate of the work of the Indonesian authorities in the
international media.

When stories of the harassment of Indonesian Muslims in
Australia emerged in the wake of the Bali bombings, Coningham's
simple solution was to take the Indonesian media to Australia "so
they could see for themselves how ridiculous the stories were."

The result included a broadcast in Indonesia of Idul Fitri
celebrations in Australia beamed back on the same day via
satellite. The model was quickly adopted in subsequent years by
other Western embassies.

Coningham has drawn on his understanding and experiences of
Indonesia to put together a top-selling collection of short
stories based loosely around his experiences in Jakarta.

Many of the stories in this collection were first published in
The Jakarta Post's Sunday edition, including his first-ever
published story, The Ojek Driver.

"In some ways the stories are a reflection of my approach to
my work as a diplomat in Indonesia: keep it honest and open,
strip away the fancy language -- normally designed to conceal,
not reveal -- and get immediately to the heart of the issue,
whether it be the human emotion that drives my short stories or
the honesty that is fundamental to quality relationships between
nations," he said.

"The language I use in these stories is deliberately simple.
Just as cocktail parties don't necessarily make for good
diplomacy, complicated language doesn't necessarily make for good
story-telling.

"The biggest compliment comes when people say how easy the
stories are to read. A radio announcer compared the book to the
wonderful Chicken Soup for the Soul ... but perhaps this is more
like instant noodles," Coningham said.

The collection, titled The Expat and Other Stories, is
available in the city's best bookstores. The book comes ahead of
the release of Coningham's first novella -- a ghost story also
set in Jakarta -- which is due to be published later this year.