Gastrodiplomacy: The Art of Winning Hearts and Minds Through Stomachs
They say you shouldn’t talk about politics at the dinner table, but sometimes, the dinner table is a form of politics itself…
Food has always been an important tool in the diplomat’s arsenal, but in recent years many countries have elevated this to a unique breed of foreign policy.
Dubbed gastro or culinary diplomacy, it has been described as the “nexus of food and foreign policy and how countries communicate their culture through food” or more simply, the art of winning hearts and minds through stomachs.
Whilst it was traditionally the domain of middle powers such as Peru, Malaysia, Lebanon and Taiwan, global superpowers such as France and the U.S. have begun to practice gastrodiplomacy too.
When executed effectively, it can help generate tourism, increase agricultural exports, and raise a countries international standing. It is also an effective way to promote cultural literacy amongst other nations, especially with the rise of foodie culture around the world.
Plate power: the role of food in diplomacy
Food is the oldest diplomatic tool in a country’s arsenal. For as long as states have existed, food has been a key tool used to charm guests, facilitate discussion, and even express power.
Founded in 1977, the Club des Chefs des Chefs (CCC) is an organization made up of the personal chefs to heads of state and royalty from around the world. The organisation sees themselves as part of a country’s political apparatus, aiding in diplomacy and not just catering for it. In their own words:
“The chef of a head of state also plays a role in international diplomatic relations as he or she is responsible for the atmosphere at the table where world leaders are seated during major meetings.”
During diplomatic visits, heads of state are served carefully curated and often extravagant meals by these culinary ambassadors, designed to tell a story and symbolise the host nations intentions.
For example, a country may express their desire for closer relations by serving fusion cuisine featuring flavours from both nations. In other cases, the goal is to advertise one’s own cultural identify through the medium of food.
This was used to great effect by the Peoples Republic of China in 1972 when they treated President Nixon to a week-long banquet, served in the Great Hall of the People.
The sitting president was photographed using chopsticks and enjoying Chinese delicacies such as Peking Duck and sweet and sour fish — unknown in the U.S. at the time.
The event has been widely attributed with kickstarting a Chinese food boom in the U.S as well as helping to thaw tensions between both countries during the Cold War.
Throughout the week, the New York Times reprinted recipes from the banquet for curious home-cooks, promoting Chinese cuisine and culture to American citizens. Chinese restaurants around the U.S. also saw increased sales and an influx of customers, offering opportunities for cultural exchanges previously not possible.
The gastrodiplomacy playbook
Power comes in many forms, as demonstrated by the Vatican City — the smallest country in the world. Whilst it’s hardly a formidable player in terms of military might, the Vatican City exerts it’s influence through cultural means. In political science, this is called soft power.
Gastro or culinary diplomacy is also a form of soft power, using cultural influence through food to strengthen ties with other nations.
Gastrodiplomacy capitalises on the rise of two 21st century trends, namely globalisation and foodie culture. By establishing a strong food presence in other nations, a country can encourage food lovers to visit the home of their favourite dishes. Not only does this drive the tourism industry, but it can also help boost food exports as well.
For those countries who lack hard power on the international stage, gastrodiplomacy can be an effective way to gain influence and win friends. The potential of culinary diplomacy is neatly summarised by Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, an 18th century French diplomat who told Napoleon:
“Give me good cooks and I will give you good treaties”.
How Thailand uses food to win friends and influence people
Have you ever wondered why Thai food is so ubiquitous around the world?
Granted it’s delicious, but so are many other national cuisines. The answer is that Thai food is part of Thai foreign policy, paid for and promoted by the state.
In 2002, Thailand turned to gastrodiplomacy to further their political aims, launching a state funded program called Global Thai. The campaign aimed to increase the number of Thai restaurants around the world from 5000 to 8000 by 2003.
To this end, the government even created a blueprint for budding Thai restauranteurs looking to penetrate foreign markets. The logic was simple: if people like the food, they’ll like the country and visit.
The government invested millions towards exporting their cuisine abroad, using food as a tool to put Thailand on the map and shake their reputation as a sex tourism destination. Since the Global Thai project, the number of Thai restaurants has tripled to over 15,000 around the world.
In the U.S. alone, there is one Thai restaurant for every 55 Thai Americans — far higher than the proportion of Mexican, Indian, or Ethiopian restaurants to their respective U.S. populations. It’s no accident, but by design.
What’s more, Thailand is now the most visited country in South-East Asis, something at least partly attributable to their gastrodiplomatic efforts. After establishing a strong presence in Europe, America, and Africa, they are now setting their sights on the Middle East.
Following Global Thai’s success, gastrodiplomacy has been deployed by countries including Japan, Israel, and Spain, who launched a U.S. based event called “Eat Spain Up!” In 2007.
Hosted in Washington DC, Eat Spain Up! promised “a month-long culinary journey of exhibits, tastings, discussions, screenings, pop-ups, and special dining offers across the city.”
“Kimchi diplomacy”: a Korean recipe for effective statesmanship
South Korea have also leaned on the power of food to increase cultural influence, launching the Korean Cuisine to the World campaign in 2009.
Dubbed “kimchi diplomacy” due to its particular emphasis on this national dish, the country even created an entire state-funded K-pop music album quite literally singing the praises of Korean delicacies (you can listen here).
The campaign honed in on the reputed health and beauty benefits of kimchi and ginseng, ingredients native to the country. In a song titled K-food party, the Korean-based band Wonder Girls proclaim that South Korea: “Have the secret to health and beauty”.
Emulating their southern counterparts, North Korea also tried their hand at gastrodiplomacy. In a notable departure from their usual nuclear sabre-rattling, North Korea operate a chain of restaurants under the name Pyongyang.
Whilst shrouded in mystery, the state-funded operation has around 130 outlets worldwide, predominately in China. In 2012, they unsuccessfully tried to set up their first Western outlet in Amsterdam, with the restaurant closing less than a year after launch due to disagreements between Dutch partners and the staff.
Final food for thought
Food is fuel, yes, but it’s also so much more than that. It’s culture, identity, craft, and science. And as countries such as Korea and Thailand have demonstrated, it can also be a tool to promote cultural understanding between different nations. Food is a universal language and at its best, the dinner table can act as a great leveller. On this note, I end with an anecdote.
During the 20 months of negotiations for the 2015 Iran nuclear deal, talks nearly collapsed at least five times due to high tensions. Throughout the summit, American and Iranian negotiators had always eaten separately but on the 4th of July, America’s Independence Day, the Iranians invited the U.S. representatives to dine with them.
Within 10 days an agreement was finally reached, with experts from both sides believing the shared meal had a major hand to play in successful negotiations.
By breaking bread, they had broken a cultural barrier.
