From the outside the cadre of serving British Ambassadors presents a forbidding spectacle, a phalanx of Erudite Excellencies.
Once upon a time these senior officials would serve until they reached full retirement age unless they had served in unhealthy malaria-stricken postings earlier in their careers, in which case they were allowed to retire earlier (as they were not expected to live so long anyway).
Now there is more of an ‘up or out’ career structure. When the system concludes that you have reached the limit of your postability, you are ‘encouraged’ to look at other options. This sits uneasily with the idea that as society ages we need more taxpayers and so people should not be forced to retire. Will this tend to create a sad situation in which the best Ambassadors who can expect to be successful outside the FCO do indeed leave – and the less ambitious and less effective linger on?
Anyway, for whatever reason Ambassadors do leave. What do they do next? Plenty of examples:
- the House of Lords and a continuing role in High Policy
- becoming a Special Representative
- some write heartfelt Valedictory Despatches which get leaked
- some write books which are published
- some write books which aren’t
- some gather together to sign a letter
- but when they do, are they an attractive sight?
- then there is Craig Murray
- and now me
All this post-Ambassadorial striving for new meaning reminds me of the stunning lines from the Illustrated Man: a group of astronauts, thrown into space when their rocket disintegrates, slowly tumble away into the emptiness:
They were all alone. Their voices had died like echoes of the words of God spoken and vibrating in the starred deep …the shards of the kaleidoscope that had formed a thinking pattern for so long, hurled apart.
….What can I do? Is there anything I can do now to make up for a terrible and empty life? If only I could do one good thing to make up for the meanness I collected all these years and didn’t even know was in me? But there’s no one here but myself and how could you do good all alone? You can’t. Tomorrow night I’ll hit earth’s atmosphere.
I’ll burn, he thought, and be scattered in ashes all over the continental lands. I’ll be put to use. Just a little bit, but ashes are ashes and they’ll add to the land….
When I hit the atmosphere I’ll burn like a meteor. "I wonder," he said, "if anyone’ll see me?"
….
"Look, Mom, Look! A falling star."
"Make a wish," said his mother. "Make a wish."
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