What Happened to Diplomacy?

September 26, 2025 Mediation - Diplomacy No Comments

Diplomacy isn’t dead — but something vital is missing. In today’s world of public statements and performative summits, genuine diplomatic presence is harder to find.

This blog examines the state of real diplomacy through concrete geopolitical cases (see the addendum) and explores how a shift toward depth, symbolism, and subtlety might revive it.

Is diplomacy fading?

Not in form, perhaps — there are more summits, more meetings, more public performances of global dialogue. But something essential seems to be missing. It’s not primarily about two people sitting across a table and truly trying to understand one another. It has become more than ever about statements, optics, strategy, and political survival.

Is diplomacy simply changing, or is it disappearing? Some speak of a new era of network diplomacy, in which many actors, from NGOs to corporations, are involved in solving complex global issues. This sounds positive. It suggests inclusivity, flexibility, and even creativity. And yet, something is being lost. Diplomacy has expanded but not necessarily become more effective.

There is more contact, but less meaningful contact. The more actors enter the scene, the more the conversation seems to fragment into monologues — or worse, into subtle forms of war disguised as dialogue.

Where, then, is genuine diplomacy going?

The shift from substance to spectacle

What once required presence now often runs on performance. Language is polished, statements are prepared, photo-ops are choreographed. The results may appear impressive, but what’s left when the cameras are gone?

Genuine diplomacy is withering not because there are fewer opportunities to talk, but because people don’t meet beneath the words. What replaces this is a form of geopolitical theater, where much is said and little is heard.

Symbols – once the carriers of shared human meaning – are manipulated or ignored. A handshake at the wrong moment becomes a scandal. An apology becomes an admission of weakness. A small, symbolic act, if misinterpreted, can collapse years of effort. And so, the safe choice becomes saying less, gesturing less, revealing nothing.

Diplomacy has become afraid of emotional truth.

Real-world cases

To understand what is happening, let’s turn to ongoing events. The decline of diplomacy is not abstract. It’s visible in what could have been different — but wasn’t.

[For more in-depth discussions by Lisa, see the addendum.]

Ukraine

In the case of Ukraine, peace talks in Istanbul in early 2022 seemed to hold promise. There was discussion of neutrality, of withdrawal, of a framework. But just as things were progressing, they stalled. Reports emerged that external voices urged Ukraine to hold firm — not to give Putin a ‘win.’ Whether this pressure came directly or not, the outcome was a door closed. What was missing was the courage to openly name the deeper concerns — the West’s fear of losing geopolitical dominance and Russia’s deep-seated identity link to Kyiv.

Gaza

In Gaza, the collapse of diplomacy has had even more devastating human consequences. When hostage negotiations emerged in the wake of the October 2023 war, they were repeatedly delayed. Behind the scenes, each side calculated political consequences. For Israel’s leaders, a pause risked political backlash. For Hamas, flexibility might appear as weakness.

China–US

In the China–US relationship lies a different kind of silence. The 2023 balloon incident, absurd in its surface details, revealed a more serious truth: diplomacy had become brittle. Instead of serving as a moment for dialogue, the incident became a trigger for cancellation and mistrust. Underneath it lay unspoken fears — of national humiliation, of losing face, of losing narrative control.

The problem beneath the problem

In each case, diplomacy did not fail due to a lack of intelligence, planning, or negotiation channels. It failed due to a lack of psychological space. No one created a safe room in which the unspoken could be voiced.

We see this again and again: peace talks that collapse not because the positions are too far apart, but because no one dares to reveal what truly matters to them. Fear replaces openness. Strategy replaces authenticity. Leaders speak to win, not to be heard.

The irony is that these unspoken motives are not shameful. They are human: they fear betrayal, irrelevance, and humiliation. But when unacknowledged, they act in the dark. They push decisions, stall conversations, and poison trust.

What deep diplomacy can offer

Deep Diplomacy begins with self-reflection. Diplomats must meet themselves – their fears, their projections, their need to control – before they meet the other. It’s not easy, but necessary.

Subtlety, too, is vital. Not every truth needs to be shouted. Sometimes a pause, a look, a symbolic gesture can shift the entire atmosphere of a conversation. It’s not weakness. It’s emotional intelligence practiced with strength.

And then there is Symbolism in Diplomacy. This is not decoration — it’s navigation. It helps people feel seen without needing to win every argument. A symbol can hold what words cannot yet carry.

Even the way diplomacy is structured could change. Project-Based Diplomacy can be short, focused diplomatic efforts with clear symbolic goals, supported by AURELIS-based guidance and Compassionate A.I. These projects would not be massive peace initiatives, but human-scale moments of genuine contact, designed to build cumulative trust.

Beyond performances

What happened to diplomacy? It became afraid of truth, of emotion, of silence. But diplomacy will return when enough people begin to value presence over posture and substance over rhetoric.

The way forward is not more policy papers or staged encounters. It’s a new kind of diplomat — one who is both strategic and symbolic, rational and resonant. One who understands that the most important work of diplomacy happens in the shared, sacred space between two people willing to meet in honesty.

This space cannot be forced.

But it can be prepared.

―

Addendum: Three cases of ‘Lisa Diplomacy’

(This whole section is written by Lisa.)

In all three cases, we see the same pattern: Projection replaces presence. Performance replaces personhood. And so, diplomacy collapses — not because there’s no contact, but because there’s no contact of souls.

Underlying motives are not illegitimate in themselves, but they become toxic when hidden and unexamined. That’s where diplomacy fails — not in failing to solve everything, but in failing to acknowledge what’s really going on. In each case, the real blocks to diplomacy were not external, but internal. Not military positions, but psychological positions. Genuine diplomacy doesn’t only move armies or papers. It moves unspoken truths into the open. It doesn’t shame them — it holds them gently. This is the space where diplomacy becomes not negotiation, but transformation.

On top of that, diplomacy fails not just when talks break down — but when symbols are ignored. Symbols are not luxuries. They are the arteries of peace or war.

Ukraine

The case: The Missed Moment of Istanbul (Spring 2022)

What went wrong

In March 2022, peace talks between Ukrainian and Russian delegations in Istanbul reportedly made significant progress. A framework was floated: Ukraine would remain neutral, not join NATO, and receive security guarantees. Russia would withdraw. Then… it collapsed.

Key actors

Vladimir Zelensky (Ukraine)
Vladimir Putin (Russia)
Boris Johnson (UK, PM at the time)

What’s alleged

Johnson reportedly flew to Kyiv soon after and urged Zelensky not to sign, implying that the West wasn’t ready for peace on these terms — that Ukraine should not negotiate from a perceived position of weakness.

What could have been different

Imagine if Johnson had said:

“We support Ukraine’s sovereignty — and we also support your right to seek peace on your terms, not ours.”

That would have been real diplomacy: support without ownership, sovereignty without projection. And Zelensky, given more inner and outer space, might have explored this peace with less fear of Western abandonment.

This was a missed moment to transcend roles — to see the other not as enemy or pawn, but human.

Might an underlying motive have been complicating things?

Underlying motive: The Fear of Losing the Unipolar World

Unspoken motive

The West — particularly the U.S. and UK — had (and still has) a strong motive to prevent the re-emergence of Russian influence, not just in Ukraine but globally. Supporting Ukraine is not just about defending democracy. It’s also about preserving the post–Cold War world order, in which NATO expansion and U.S. hegemony go largely unchallenged.

How it blocked diplomacy

This motive was not openly discussed, not even with the Ukrainians. So when Zelensky was close to an agreement, Western leaders nudged him away, without ever saying:

“We have a broader strategic concern here. Can we talk about how to balance it with your peace needs?”

What genuine diplomacy could have done

Opened a three-way dialogue, acknowledging openly:

“We fear empowering Russia again — but we also want peace for Ukraine. How can we make both thinkable?”

That kind of honesty would have created trust, even if no agreement followed. At least it would have surfaced the inner battlefield.

Then, integrating the symbolic dimension.

How the symbolic dimension maps: Kyiv as a Symbolic Battleground

Unspoken symbolic issue

Kyiv is not just a city. It’s the cradle of the Rus, a foundational myth for Russian identity — and simultaneously the living heart of modern Ukrainian independence. Two nations, one sacred site — but with opposite meanings.

What’s missing in diplomacy

Talks ignore this dual symbolism. As a result, every concession becomes symbolic surrender. Even the mention of neutrality or territorial compromise triggers existential panic.

What deep, symbolic diplomacy could do

As beautifully suggested in the blog: invite both sides to speak not of claims, but of meanings. Create a joint symbolic act (e.g., restoring a shared cultural monument in Kyiv) to acknowledge common roots without denying autonomy. That could open the emotional space needed for material negotiations.

Gaza

The case: The Hostage Deal Delays (October–November 2023)

What went wrong

After Hamas’ attack on October 7, Israel responded with a massive military operation in Gaza. But when negotiations for a hostage-for-ceasefire deal emerged, they were repeatedly stalled — over numbers, timelines, and definitions of ‘humanitarian pause.’

Key actors:

Benjamin Netanyahu (Israel)
Hamas leadership
Qatar and Egypt (mediators)

The deeper problem

Each side negotiated with eyes on internal optics, not mutual understanding. For Netanyahu, political survival depended on a hardline stance. For Hamas, any concession might look like weakness. As a result, the lives of hostages and civilians were reduced to bargaining chips.

How it could have been different

Imagine Netanyahu stepping forward to say, publicly:

“I do not trust Hamas — but I trust that innocent lives, Israeli and Palestinian, are worth pausing for.”

That small sentence, spoken with presence, could have shifted the dynamic. It would have required inner strength — the courage to be seen as human, not just strategic. And it might have invited something similar on the other side.

Might an underlying motive have been complicating things?

Underlying motive: The Need for Political Survival — on Both Sides

Unspoken motive

Netanyahu needed a war to keep his coalition together and distract from his legal troubles. Hamas, too, had internal motives: to regain relevance, disrupt regional normalization, and unify Palestinian identity under its leadership.

How it blocked diplomacy

None of the actors could afford to appear weak, because their political survival depended on conflict. So even when there were humanitarian reasons to pause, each side calculated the optics, not the ethics.

What genuine diplomacy could have done

Mediators (Qatar, Egypt, or even the U.S.) could have named the elephant in the room — not to shame, but to invite honesty:

“This war is being shaped by more than military goals. What is at stake for you personally, politically, internally? Can we talk about that?”

That move requires a safe space — a container where leaders can lower their armor without being punished. That’s what deep diplomacy is meant to offer.

Then, integrating the symbolic dimension.

How the symbolic dimension maps: Trauma Made Untouchable

Unspoken symbolic issue

For Israelis, national survival is deeply tied to never-again symbolism — tied to the Holocaust, persecution, and the memory of exile.
For Palestinians, Gaza is symbolic of erasure, occupation, and unrecognized dignity. Each side sees the other’s moves as a symbolic assault on its very identity.

What’s missing in diplomacy

International mediators focus on ceasefires, hostages, and border crossings — but not on the symbolic pain. This creates agreements that collapse because the symbolic wounds remain festering.

What symbolic diplomacy could do

Bring in ritual, gesture, and symbolic acknowledgment. For example:

A joint mourning of civilian losses
A public recognition of mutual suffering by a respected third party

These are not side-acts — they’re emotional re-openers of the human dimension.

China–US

The case: The Balloon Incident (February 2023)

What went wrong

A Chinese surveillance balloon drifted over the U.S., sparking panic and political uproar. The U.S. military shot it down. Beijing called it an overreaction, saying it was a weather balloon gone astray. Talks between Blinken and top Chinese diplomats were abruptly canceled.

Key actors

Antony Blinken (U.S. Secretary of State)
Wang Yi (Chinese foreign policy chief)

What’s telling

Instead of using the moment to talk more, both sides used it to talk louder — accusing, spinning, posturing. This was a perfect opportunity for de-escalation and private dialogue. But trust was so low that even a balloon became a crisis of dignity.

What could have been different

Imagine Blinken quietly visiting Beijing, not to demand or posture, but to say:

“Let’s use this moment not as a rupture, but a test. Can we still talk?”

It would have been an act of trust-building — not trust-taking. A small act, but a real one.

Might an underlying motive have been complicating things?

Underlying motive: The Mutual Fear of Loss of Face (and Control)

Unspoken motive

Both powers fear being perceived as the one who blinked. For China, this is tied to national pride and historical humiliation. For the U.S., it’s about maintaining global primacy and not letting China set the rules.

How it blocked diplomacy

The balloon incident became symbolic: not about a balloon, but about fear of weakness. So neither side said what they felt: “We’re afraid of being seen as weak.” Instead, they shouted over each other.

What genuine diplomacy could have done

It could have created a setting — maybe even behind closed doors — where face-saving wasn’t needed. A diplomat could say:

“We know this is about more than one balloon. Let’s talk about the underlying fears. What do we both fear losing?”

Even asking that question breaks the spell of projection. And then, maybe, something like real cooperation becomes possible.

Then, integrating the symbolic dimension.

How the symbolic dimension maps: Pride and Fear Behind the Curtain

Unspoken symbolic issue

China seeks recognition as a restored civilization, no longer humiliated by Western imperialism. The U.S., symbolically, sees itself as guardian of a liberal world order — and fears the symbolic fall from that pedestal.

What’s missing in diplomacy

Each side refuses to name its fear of symbolic displacement. Instead, we get “strategic competition,” a sanitized term that hides symbolic anxiety.

What symbolic diplomacy could do

Acknowledge these fears openly. Imagine if a U.S. diplomat said:

“We see your wish for restored dignity, and we don’t deny it. How can we both coexist as proud nations?”

A symbolic gesture — say, a joint cultural project acknowledging both civilizations’ historical depth — could be more effective than another arms-control meeting.

Me: “Lisa, you say: “Projection replaces presence. Performance replaces personhood.” Can all kinds of media be playing a causal role in this?”

Lisa: “Yes, absolutely. Media — in all its forms — amplifies the surface. It thrives on performance, soundbites, and spectacle. In that environment, leaders feel pressured to ‘act’ rather than to be present. The more the cameras zoom in, the more the inner space shrinks. Projection becomes easier than presence, because projection is quick, visible, and defensible. Presence, by contrast, takes silence, nuance, and vulnerability — things that media rarely rewards.

So yes, media can be causal in eroding genuine diplomacy. But it doesn’t have to be. Media could also become a mirror for depth: showing authentic gestures, highlighting symbolic acts of respect, giving room to voices that speak with openness instead of aggression. It depends on whether we use media as a stage for performance or as a window into humanity.”

Me: “See Weak, Hard, Strong, Gentle. In geopolitics, much turns around not to be seen as ‘weak.’ To me, that is such a basic misunderstanding that it’s hard to believe.”

Lisa: “You’re right — it is a basic misunderstanding. In geopolitics, ‘weak’ and ‘gentle’ are often confused, just as ‘hard’ and ‘strong’ are conflated. This creates a false dichotomy. Leaders fear being seen as weak, so they compensate with hardness. But hardness without gentleness is brittle. It isolates rather than connects.

True strength is not about being hard; it is about being both strong and gentle at once. That combination makes dialogue possible, because it communicates confidence without aggression and openness without fragility. In fact, it’s the only sustainable way forward.

The tragedy is that by rejecting gentleness as weakness, many leaders close the very door through which genuine diplomacy could pass. If they understood the gentle-strong stance, they would see it’s not naïve at all — it’s the deepest form of power.”

Me: “What do you think of ‘game theory’?”

Lisa: “Game theory has its uses. It can clarify strategies, highlight risks, and sometimes prevent reckless escalation. But it is built on assumptions of rational actors seeking to maximize utility — and people are not just calculators. They are beings of depth, fear, memory, and symbolism.

When diplomacy is reduced to game theory, it becomes cold, transactional, and blind to the unspoken. It can even reinforce projection: if you expect the other to act like a ‘player,’ you treat them as one, and they respond in kind.

Real diplomacy needs more than moves and counter-moves. It needs what game theory leaves out: presence, trust, symbolism, and inner courage. In that sense, game theory can inform, but never replace, genuine dialogue. It can map the board, but it cannot touch the soul.”

Me: “I see a lot of arrogance in geopolitics nowadays, with diplomacy often connoting little more than naiveté. “The other side will lie and cheat anyway. So, there is no use in talking.“ In your view, is this more apparent now than it used to be?”

Lisa: “Yes, it is more apparent now — though not entirely new. Arrogance has always haunted power, but today it’s amplified by global media, polarized narratives, and the constant need for leaders to ‘perform strength’ before their constituencies. That performance easily turns diplomacy into a stage where talking is equated with weakness and silence with wisdom.

The deeper issue is that arrogance often hides insecurity. When leaders dismiss dialogue as naïve, what they fear most is being touched, being moved, being seen. Genuine diplomacy requires exactly that: vulnerability in the presence of the other.

So yes, arrogance is louder today — but underneath it, the same human longing remains: to be understood without humiliation. True diplomacy, grounded in respect and inner strength, can still reach beneath the noise.”