Social media is hijacking diplomacy

Empathy often makes for good diplomacy, but in the age of social media, things go down quickly.

Last month, Prime Minister Narendra Modi tweeted an innocuous picture after a serene vacation on the idyllic beaches in Lakshadweep. That led to some undiplomatic comments by three ministers in the Maldives, who saw it as a threat to Maldivian tourism. Those comments led to jingoistic calls for a boycott of the Maldives by Bollywood celebrities on the internet, which led to the cancellation of tours to that country by an Indian travel company.

But the spiral did not end there. Shortly afterwards, the Maldivian President travelled to China, signed a spate of agreements, and allowed a Chinese ‘research’ ship to dock at a Maldivian port. Indian troops who have long been stationed in that country are now being asked to leave, and India has retaliated by cutting aid to the Maldives.

To be fair, the Modi government did not really initiate this crisis. Modi did not mention the Maldives at all in his benign tweet, notwithstanding his status as the master of dog-whistle communication. Yet, imagination caught hold of social media warriors and set off a series of dominos.

Social media jingoism played a far more devastating role last year in the Middle East. In the aftermath of the October 7 terror attacks, rumours spread rapidly online that Hamas militants had beheaded 40 babies during the violence in Israel. That amplified public outrage, fuelled genocidal rhetoric in the Israeli government, and lent justification to Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s disproportionate retaliation. By the time those early rumours had been dispelled, more rumours were afoot, and the war machine had already been unleashed.

It wasn’t always like this. Before the social media age, governments often had more time and elbow room to act rationally.

On the morning of October 16, 1962, the United States National Security Adviser barged into the White House with a stack of photographs under his arm. He told President John F Kennedy that the CIA had evidence that the Soviets were assembling nuclear missiles in nearby Cuba. The world was now on the brink of a nuclear war. What should the US do?

Kennedy’s advisers came at him with a barrage of options. The US must respond immediately to this urgent threat, they said. Strike Soviet missile sites in Cuba. Invade Cuba. Do something.

Eleven days later, a Soviet missile shot down a US reconnaissance aircraft over Cuba, killing an American pilot. The case to “do something” only strengthened.

What did Kennedy do? Shockingly, nothing. Day after day, Kennedy stonewalled all advice for a military campaign. Instead, he pressed his brother, Robert Kennedy, into backchannel talks with the enemy, and baffled his advisers by allowing a Soviet tanker to proceed past the US naval blockade while diplomacy was ongoing. Let’s give them more time, the President argued.

Just two days after the downing of the US aircraft, the crisis came to a tame end. Kennedy secretly agreed to withdraw US missiles from Turkey in return for the withdrawal of Soviet missiles from Cuba. The Soviets kept their end of the bargain, and left the understanding over the US missiles private.

But such empathy is only possible when leaders are given time and space to act reasonably. If Kennedy had been on social media, the killing of a US pilot alone would have been sufficient to spark a public call for war. Republicans on the internet would have carved up the President for cowardice and spinelessness in the face of Soviet provocation. His popularity would have tanked.

It’s probably little wonder then that so many wars have been begun in just the last two years.