The idea of diplomatic representation has had problems throughout the life of the modern diplomatic system. If Michel Foucault was right, medieval thought accepted the idea of direct correspondence, one-for-one, far more readily than we do today.(3 ) The medieval ambassador represented his sovereign in the sense that he was him or embodied him (literally in some readings) when he presented himself at court. Since then, however, representation has come to involve at lease three elements: the sovereign; the ambassador as a person; and the ambassador in his representative capacity as the "sovereign." To complicate the matter further, the identities of sovereigns and diplomats alike have changed, blurred, and become more complex. Representation is a slippery concept but one which we cannot entirely do without. Politically incorrect though the language of representation might be, with its emphasis on symbols of power, wealth, and the grandeur of the state, it will not go away.

Diplomats are frustrated when people think they enjoy the grind and tedium of what some of their number in the United States Department of State refer to as "flowerpot duty,"(4)  but there is no general agreement about the value or necessity of such work. One former protocol officer assured me that only the new and the insecure "go to town" on ceremony and protocol; diplomats of the established great powers are far more relaxed about such matters. Diplomats relax perceptibly when I tell them that I am interested in representation in a simpler and more conceptual sense. Their prejudices about academics who need to make a meal of the obvious, after all, have been confirmed. "We represent our governments and countries," they reply, and any implicit ambiguities merely reflect those arising from the notional qualities of life in general. There are no big secrets to be revealed, only small uncertainties to be negotiated on a case-by-case basis.