In the name of diplomacy

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In today's interconnected world, diaspora communities play a main role in shaping narratives and lobbying for policy shifts in their countries of origin. This advocacy is not new to US foreign affairs, as seen with the Cuban-American influence on the Cuba policy of the Washington government, and the Armenian-American effort to have the genocide recognised. However, when such influence goes over the line and begins to politicise internal affairs of sovereign states, especially where there is aid conditionality, then it brings up uneasy answers as to where diplomacy ends.

A recent example brings this concern to the fore. US Congresswoman Rashida Tlaib has reportedly urged a conditional review of military assistance to Pakistan, linked not to institutional reform or policy outcomes, but to the continued tenure of the country's military leadership. However noble these positions may seem, they raise the very candid question: should personalities be used to trade foreign aid against principles?

Military and political leadership in any sovereign country is determined through constitutional processes. An external party, no matter how well meaning, will run the liability of intruding whenever they seek to exert influence on such outcomes by diplomatic or financial means. Whenever the application of aid is not based on the desire to enhance policy change but rather serve as a tool of reshaping leadership structures, the segment between strategic partnership and political engineering starts to be obscured.

The aspect has a wider diplomatic cost to it. Conditioning aid on internal appointments suppresses the long-established convention of non-interference in the domestic jurisdiction of sovereign nations. It may signal disregard for local institutions and create this perception that foreign governments seek to pick winners and losers in the political or military hierarchy of other nations.

What happens is that when foreigners get their hands into the housekeeping of another nation, the place becomes a mess. It has occurred in the Middle East, Latin America, South Asia, and so on. Of course, there are occasions when the intentions are good, but the repercussions are seldom positive, and the damage to future confidence is high.

How do we measure foreign aid then? It is not the matter of driving leaders to resign and the molding of those in control. The aid must support stability, growth and common ambitions, not merely administer a political wallop. Policies that appear to personalise aid undermine the credibility of international partnerships and erode the confidence that states place in diplomatic engagements.

Moreover, the demands of accountability and transparency of foreign aid utilisation are reasonable and justified, but they have to be based on uniform standards. When standards are changed based on political preferences or personalities, then it becomes confusing to partner nations and undermines the integrity of aid policy.

In Pakistan's case, the country remains a significant regional partner in areas ranging from counterterrorism to economic cooperation. Any makeover must be conducted on transparent policies and respect. Emphasis on individual politics threatens to throw away the larger institutional gears that make the relationship stable.

Diplomacy requires restraint at its best. It acknowledges complexity and sovereignty and encourages interaction rather than intrusion. With world politics getting more and more polarised and emotional, the role of lawmakers and diplomats to maintain the balance and long-term perspective becomes even more important. When too tightly entangled in domestic leadership conflicts, aid loses its status as a bridge and turns into a wedge that widens the gap instead of creating understanding.

In an age where global cooperation is necessary, principled diplomacy must remain the compass. The alternative is a world where personal preferences override policy, and where international relations are no longer built on trust, but on terms.