Be polite; write diplomatically; even in a declaration of war
Be polite; write diplomatically; even in a declaration of war one observes the rules of politeness.
Otto von Bismarck, the Iron Chancellor of Germany, once gave this curious but weighty instruction: “Be polite; write diplomatically; even in a declaration of war one observes the rules of politeness.” These words, born from the mind of a master strategist, are not the counsel of trivial manners, but of profound statecraft. Bismarck understood that even when nations clash and the sword is drawn, the tongue and the pen must remain tempered. For though war is violence unleashed, diplomacy is the stage upon which the meaning of war is set, and politeness is the mask through which power is exercised.
The origin of this saying lies in Bismarck’s long career as a statesman of nineteenth-century Europe, during which he unified Germany not only by blood and iron, but also by shrewd words and calculated courtesy. He mastered the art of diplomacy, using treaties, letters, and carefully phrased communiqués to outmaneuver rivals. To him, politeness was not weakness, but a tool of strength, a way to cloak ambition in civility. By reminding others of the rules of politeness, even in a declaration of war, Bismarck revealed his belief that form and appearance carry as much weight in politics as the armies behind them.
The meaning of his words is layered. At the surface, it is practical: harsh or insulting words can inflame passions, closing the door to negotiation even when war must one day end in peace. Politeness preserves channels of communication, keeps the enemy dignified, and leaves open the path for reconciliation. But deeper still, it is a reminder that power is most enduring when it is disciplined. The barbarian may rage, but the statesman conquers with restraint. Even amid destruction, the rules of civility remind the world that war is not chaos, but a tragic extension of politics.
History bears witness to the power of Bismarck’s principle. Consider the aftermath of the Franco-Prussian War in 1870. Bismarck, though ruthless in his aims, maintained the appearance of propriety, negotiating with French envoys and framing German actions within the boundaries of diplomatic decorum. His courtesy did not spare France from defeat, yet it allowed him to shape the narrative of legitimacy and order. By contrast, in the twentieth century, leaders who abandoned politeness for arrogance—issuing ultimatums in brutal and insulting terms—often hardened their enemies’ resolve and destroyed all hope of compromise. Here, Bismarck’s wisdom shines: respect in words does not diminish power in deeds.
We see a smaller but vivid example in the ancient world: the envoys of Rome. Even when delivering terms of surrender, Roman ambassadors spoke with formality, invoking the dignity of their state and of their adversaries. This respect, however cold, often allowed defeated peoples to accept Rome’s dominion with less humiliation. Contrast this with the Mongol horde, whose crude demands and brutal threats inspired terror, yes, but also unending hatred. Politeness, even in enmity, can be as potent a weapon as the sword.
The lesson for us, then, is not confined to the halls of diplomacy. In every conflict—whether between nations, neighbors, or within families—politeness tempers strife. Even when we must oppose others, even when we must declare our resistance, we can choose words that honor the dignity of those we oppose. This does not weaken our stand; it strengthens it, for it preserves our integrity and keeps the possibility of reconciliation alive. Words that destroy respect cannot easily be recalled, but words spoken with courtesy, even in anger, leave behind the soil from which peace may one day grow.
Practical wisdom demands this: when conflict comes, do not let rage govern your tongue. Speak firmly, but speak with respect. Write diplomatically, even when you must oppose. For the measure of your strength is not only in how you fight, but in how you speak while fighting. This was Bismarck’s truth: power that rages burns itself out, but power that restrains endures.
So remember this teaching, children of tomorrow: even in war, one observes the rules of politeness. Let your words be tempered by respect, your actions guided by discipline. For while battles may pass, and treaties may fade, the dignity you preserve in conflict will mark you as wise, and will sow the seeds of peace long after the clash of arms has ended.
QTPham Quynh Tram
This quote invites reflection on the contrast between form and substance. While war represents ultimate conflict and destruction, Bismarck’s advice implies that maintaining diplomacy and etiquette is crucial for legitimacy, strategy, and maintaining order. It prompts me to ask: does observing politeness in declarations of war prevent miscalculations or unintended escalations, or is it primarily a symbolic gesture aimed at domestic and international audiences? How essential is civility in the conduct of modern warfare?
Ddfhghghghghghghghghghg
Bismarck’s observation brings attention to the interplay between rhetoric and action in international relations. Even when preparing for war, the rules of communication, tone, and politeness can affect alliances, public perception, and negotiations. This makes me wonder whether contemporary leaders still adhere to similar norms, or if the rise of rapid media and social platforms has eroded the space for formal diplomacy. Can politeness in language still carry weight in a world dominated by immediacy and spectacle?
NNnkv
Reading this, I feel both amused and contemplative. The notion that politeness should guide the language of war seems almost theatrical, yet it reflects the structured norms of European diplomacy in Bismarck’s era. It raises a critical question: can courtesy in official communication reduce the human cost of conflict, or is it a distraction from the moral implications of initiating violence? How do modern states balance protocol with ethical responsibility?
QVtran quang vu
This quote highlights the performative aspect of diplomacy. Even in extreme conflict, Bismarck suggests maintaining a veneer of civility, implying that appearance and tone can shape international reactions. It prompts me to question whether diplomatic etiquette during declarations of war has historically prevented broader conflicts, or whether it simply formalizes aggression in a socially acceptable way. How much does presentation matter when the substance of war is inherently violent?
TKNguyen Trung Kien
As a reader, I am struck by the paradox in Bismarck’s words. The idea that one should remain polite while declaring war seems almost absurd, yet it underscores the importance of protocol and perceived legitimacy in diplomacy. Could such formalities influence how nations perceive each other’s actions, perhaps reducing misunderstandings or unintended escalations? Or is this emphasis on politeness merely a tool to mask the underlying ruthlessness of political and military strategy?