Apologies make news. Recently, in a carefully orchestrated statement, US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton told Pakistani Foreign Minister Hina Rabbani Khar that "we are sorry for the losses suffered by the Pakistani military", adding "we are committed to working closely with Pakistan and Afghanistan to prevent this from ever happening again".
The "losses" were the accidental killing, in November 2011, of 24 Pakistani soldiers. Pakistan demanded an apology, and after the US refused, Islamabad closed off NATO supply lines to Afghanistan.
Figuring out the apology took about eight months.
There were repercussions in the Middle East where Turkey had been demanding that Israel apologize for the killing of nine Turks in 2010, when Israeli commandos, in international waters, boarded the Mavi Marmara, a Turkish passenger ship that was attempting to break the Israeli blockade of Gaza.
For two years, despite deteriorating relations with its former quasi-ally, Israel had steadfastly refused to apologize, upholding its policy of never showing weakness in a hostile region. As precedent, Israeli Foreign Minister Avigdor Liberman referenced the US refusal to apologize to Pakistan.
"The Pakistanis asked the US to apologize, and the Americans said 'no way'," Liberman had said. "So when they [the US] come to us and pressure us to apologize over the Marmara sometimes even to best friends you must say 'no'. Otherwise, no one will respect you."
Now that the US has reversed its position and apologized, there is pressure on Israel to do likewise.
Why are diplomatic apologies, which are so cheap to give, so dear to offer? After all, apologies cost nothing in treasure or blood. The reason centers on pride and dignity, potent human traits that, while sometimes noble, all too often mutate into obstacles, causing self-harming behavior. In this sense, countries are like people, only worse.
Apologies are dangerous for political leaders: saying "we're sorry" to other countries flouts nationalistic prejudices and thus weakens the leaders who do so. US President Barack Obama was pilloried by his domestic critics for apologizing, especially to the Muslim world, for various US actions. Extracting apologies from national leaders is worse than extracting their wisdom teeth.
Stuff happens and history offers lessons on how apologies work, and do not work. In 1999, during NATO airstrikes to stop Serbian attacks on ethnic Albanians in Kosovo, a US B-2 warplane bombed the Chinese embassy in Belgrade, Yugoslavia, destroying the building and killing three Chinese journalists.
To the Chinese people the bombing was a national insult, and although the US blamed "old maps" for the tragic accident, almost every Chinese assumed that the attack had been deliberate. Angry crowds focused their fury on the US embassy and consulates. The fever of the crisis broke only when then president Bill Clinton's apology was featured prominently on the front pages of China's newspapers.
In 2001, a US Navy surveillance plane, monitoring electronic signals off China's coast, collided with a Chinese fighter jet, which then disintegrated, killing its pilot. The damaged US aircraft was forced to make an unauthorized emergency landing on the Chinese island of Hainan, and as news of the incident spread, waves of Chinese indignation flooded the Internet, inundated radio, television, and the press, and poured onto the streets.
One netizen offered an analogy: "If someone peeps at your wife when she is having a bath and your son goes out to drive that person away but instead he is beaten to death, what would you do?"
"The US should apologize to the Chinese for this incident," then president Jiang Zemin said, echoing the feelings of his countrymen, "and bear all responsibilities for the consequences".