Why Do We Call 'Allies' Countries That Are Protectorates or Client States?
The language of diplomacy can be misleading or blur lines on purpose, but it shouldn't deny reality.
As I prepare for WIDA’s ninth Summer Diplomatic Academy next month, I plan to open the course the way I do every year: by explaining to our trainees why, despite the dark times we are living through, I consider diplomacy to be the world’s best hope.
Even forceful proponents of diplomacy like me, however, are sometimes vexed by diplomatic vocabulary. That was especially true when I was a journalist covering the State Department and accompanying four secretaries of state on their global travels. I learned, of course, to see through the euphemisms and vague language they used to downplay a negative development or to mask their inability to answer a question.
In that universe, “We had a frank exchange of views” meant “We had a fight,” and “We’ll decide at the appropriate time” meant “I have no idea when.” Characterizing a meeting with a foreign government as “constructive” often betrayed lack of progress, “differences remain” meant “we got nowhere,” and describing a major provocation by another country as “not helpful” was frequently the understatement of the year.
Then there are certain words and phrases whose meaning has been so stretched or blurred for so long that no one seems to remember their original definition. Perhaps one of the most popular is “the international community,” which is more aspirational than factual — it usually refers to the West or a group of likeminded countries, but almost never includes the entire world.
When every friend is special
Probably the most overused term in modern diplomacy is “partner.” Countries call one another “partners” just for having formal diplomatic relations. It doesn’t seem to matter whether their interests align in some way. A partnership may involve deep or limited cooperation — or almost no cooperation at all. The term often tells you very little.
And when governments want a relationship to sound important but aren’t willing to make formal alliance commitments, they often declare a “strategic partnership.” China has dozens of them.
Most consequentially, many countries routinely described as “allies” aren’t allies in the traditional sense of the word. The term first raised my eyebrows during a trip with Secretary of State Colin Powell to Pakistan in 2004, when he designated it a “major non-NATO ally.”
The following year, London was the first stop on the inaugural tour Powell’s successor, Condoleezza Rice, made as chief diplomat. When she proclaimed that the United States had “no better ally” than Britain, I thought it made sense. But then she told several other countries that Washington had no better allies than them as well — and she continued to do so around the world throughout her four-year tenure. When everyone is special, no one actually is.
How did we get here?
Historically, there have been four categories signifying relationships between and among countries and implying obligations: alliances, ententes, protectorates and client states. Today, “almost the only words used to describe any sort of remotely cooperative international ties — however ephemeral — are ‘ally’ and ‘alliance,’” Chas Freeman, a former career diplomat who also served as an assistant secretary of defense, wrote in “Diplomatic Tradecraft.”
For this, Freeman blamed “in large part the atrophy of diplomatic vocabulary during the Cold War,” when the two rival superpowers competed fiercely to enlist as many countries as possible in their respective spheres of influence. Stretching the meaning of the word “ally” seemed a small price to pay to win that race.
What’s the term’s original definition? According to the Cambridge Dictionary, an “ally” is “a country that has agreed officially to give help and support to another one, especially during a war.” The Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines it as “one that is associated with another as a helper: a person or group that provides assistance and support in an ongoing effort, activity or struggle.”
In a defense treaty, there is a presumption that the obligations are reciprocal, because the purpose of alliances is to add the power of others to one’s own — that’s why the famous common-defense Article 5 is so central to NATO.
“However, the spheres-of-influence landscape of the Cold War did not conform to this model. The United States and the Soviet Union embarked on a protective mission directed at denying their respective spheres to the adversary. Security guarantees to others became part of a strategy of containment and deterrence, not one focused on power aggregation,” Freeman wrote.
“There was little, if any, expectation that the Europeans in NATO and its rival Warsaw Pact would add much, if anything, to the military or economic capabilities of the two superpowers. They were made ‘allies’ to bring them under protection for purposes of strategic denial,” he noted.
Failing to adapt
This history continued to shape American thinking about “alliances” and “allies” long after the Cold War ended and many onetime Warsaw Pact members joined NATO. “The U.S. government considered it its duty to safeguard its ‘allies’ from their enemies, who were — by extension and adoption — also ours,” Freeman added.
Then along came Donald Trump. I don’t share his simplistic and misguided view that allies have been “ripping us off” and taking us for suckers — at least not treaty allies. True, no one expected them to defend the U.S. homeland, but most of them sent troops to Afghanistan after the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001, and many sustained significant casualties. That was the only time NATO invoked Article 5.
Along with bilateral treaty allies in other parts of the world, such as Japan, South Korea and Australia, they have also provided substantial political, strategic and even cultural value to the projection and exercise of U.S. power. Successive administrations in Washington have long lauded their unique “network of alliances,” which helped make the United States the most powerful country in world history.
Still, there is no doubt that those allies have become so dependent on U.S. protection that they can barely defend themselves, let alone be relied upon to help defend the U.S. homeland. They all admit it — and are finally doing something about it.
So should we continue to call them “allies”? Or are they protectorates? A protectorate is a relationship based on an exchange of concrete benefits, such as military bases or transit rights, in return for protection. A client-state arrangement is usually a one-way street, where the client owes no allegiance and reciprocal benefits to its patron.
Fluid relationships
Freeman argued that, while it makes sense to refer to NATO members as “allies,” the U.S. commitment to Japan and South Korea, as well as to the Persian Gulf states, “is an example of protectorates.” On the other hand, he wrote that “client states in the Middle East like Egypt, Israel and Jordan have received enormous strategic support from the United States. But none feels obliged to do anything in return.”
At the same time, Freeman recognized that “in the current world disorder, relationships are more fluid than they were in the 20th century.” Arrangements that “embody obligations are diminishing, freeing states to maneuver in accordance with their interests, as they see them,” he added. “Alliances are eroding, and with them, the predictability they provide.”
Diplomats usually prefer softer language, because it’s less provocative. Calling another country an “ally” sounds respectful. Calling it a “client state” can sound dismissive or insulting. Referring to a “protectorate” evokes colonial imagery that many governments would rather avoid.
Diplomacy often relies on constructive ambiguity. Sometimes that ambiguity helps preserve relationships that might otherwise become politically difficult. The problem arises when diplomatic language drifts too far from reality.
Citizens notice. They may not know the technical definitions used in international relations theory, but they understand when one country depends overwhelmingly on another for its security. They also understand that calling every friendly country an “ally” eventually drains the word of meaning.
Pretending otherwise doesn’t make the facts disappear. And diplomacy requires precision as well as tact.
Both The Diplomacy Notebook and The Diplomacy Podcast are free, but you can show your support by making a donation to help us continue to produce unique and timely content.
Nicholas Kralev is the founder and executive director of the Washington International Diplomatic Academy, and a former Financial Times and Washington Times correspondent. His books include “Diplomatic Tradecraft,” “America’s Other Army” and “Diplomats in the Trenches.”