Leave your sword at the door
If the 1814 feast was an uncharacteristically large gathering, it nonetheless effectively illustrates that collectively consuming food bestows extra significance on events, particularly at moments of great historical importance.
It therefore may come as little surprise that it was over an extravagant dinner in June 1790 that Founding Fathers of the United States Alexander Hamilton, James Madison and Thomas Jefferson ended a deadlock over where the new capital of the United States should be located.
Meeting at Jefferson’s house in New York, and consuming courses of capon stuffed with Virginia ham, boeuf à la mode and Baked Alaska, the three men decided how the Revolutionary War debt should be apportioned across the states and, putting aside ideological and personal differences, agreed to locate the capital on the banks of the Potomac—an agreement fuelled, no doubt, by each course being paired with fine wines.
What becomes clearer is that the combination of dinner and diplomatic intent appears to impose layers of formality, grandeur, civility and sophistication to proceedings of all sizes. Sociological studies have shown that sharing a meal is a powerful motivator: not only does it enhance our receptiveness to whatever is discussed, but it also triggers a desire to “repay” the provider.
Dining together, it might be said, is not just about food, but how the hormones and emotions unleashed by consuming it in a shared forum can influence the way we think and respond. Be it state banquet or low-key embassy supper, dining together tends to demand voices be lowered and swords left at the door. The 19th-century British statesman and prime minister Viscount Palmerston referred to dining as the “soul of diplomacy.” It was Winston Churchill, a famous bon vivant, who ultimately coined it “dinner diplomacy.”
It doesn’t always have positive outcomes. Adolf Hitler used a veil of civility presented by dining to force the hand of his guest, Austrian chancellor Kurt von Schuschnigg, during a dinner at the Berghof in the Bavarian Alps in February 1938. After a genial start, the dining table, set with fine linens and Swastika-clad crockery, became a bullying pulpit from which Hitler outlined his ambitions for Austria, presenting a list of non-negotiable demands for how the country should concede independence. After schweinwürst and sauerkraut, von Schuschnigg had little choice but to agree to the complete integration of Austria into the German state.
The development of ‘soft power’
Today, the concept of diplomatic dining remains strong, recognised as a state instrument of what has become known as ‘soft power.’ Popularised in 1990 by American political scientist Joseph Nye, it refers to the ability to co-opt rather than coerce. The chefs charged with preparing special state culinary moments certainly recognize it as such. In 1977, Le Club des Chefs des Chefs was formed, its membership comprising personal chefs of heads of state, meeting under the motto: “If politics divides people, a good table always gathers them.” Still in existence today, its 14 members include Cristeta Comerford, executive chef at the White House; Ulrich Kerz, chef to the Chancellor of Germany; Guillaume Gomez, head chef at France’s Elysée Palace; and Mark Flanagan, chef to Her Majesty Elizabeth II, Queen of The United Kingdom and Head of the Commonwealth.
Hillary Clinton, speaking in 2012 as Secretary of State (the United States’ top diplomat), summed up the modern viewpoint: “Sharing a meal can help people transcend boundaries and build bridges in a way that nothing else can. Certainly, some of the most meaningful conversations I've had with my counterparts all over the world have taken place over breakfasts, lunches and dinners. [Food] is the oldest diplomatic tool.”
Moments of great political symbolism are often driven by great diplomatic dinners. In 2013, President Barack Obama served British Prime Minister David Cameron a main course of Bison Wellington, giving an American twist to a classic British dish, representing “a great marriage of the two countries.”
At the 2018 Korean Peace Summit, everything from the shape of the table to the ingredients and the provenance of each dish took on special significance. The choice of minced croaker and sea cucumber as a dumpling filling referenced the hometown of South Korean President Kim Dae-Jung; while rösti, the traditional Swiss potato fritter, referenced where North Korean leader Kim Jong Un was schooled.A mango mousse, decorated symbolically with a map of a unified Korea, was encased in a hard chocolate shell which the leaders had to smash through—jointly holding a large hammer—referencing the warmth of their relationship breaking through.
Despite the best of intentions, things can, and will, go awry at what can be sensitive moments. During a visit to Japan by then US President George H. W. Bush in 1992, he made history by vomiting on the prime minister of Japan. The faux pas, during a state dinner, is thought to have set US-Japanese relations back several years and made Bush a target for disdain in Japan.