Returning to live in the UK in
March will be a major turning point in my life, as it represents 25 years since
I first started working overseas.
I entered the UK Diplomatic
Service in 1995 with a posting to the British Pacific Aid Management Office in
Suva, Fiji Islands. Whilst my presence injected a mere hint of diversity,
it signalled a change which caused ripples in circles previously reserved for
white colleagues. The atmosphere was hostile, and many colleagues,
particularly on the FCO side, made me feel unwelcomed. For some
reason, they assumed that I came from South London, making references to
“people from South London” when referring to me. Back then, South London was
synonymous with black ghetto. As a firm North West Londoner, I initially wondered
who these South Londoners were that people kept referring to, until the penny
dropped!
From the outset, I decided not to
internalise this negative treatment, but rather tackle at surface level,
maintaining distance and hopefully sanity. After a while my descriptor
changed from “South Londoner” to “aloof” and “brusque” which worked its way
into my performance appraisal. In my own mind this translated
to “above” and “intolerant” of racist attitudes and
behaviours. However, despite my tough exterior,
at times I felt isolated and upset. In fact, one day during working hours
I walked out of the office and went home with the intention of short touring,
but I returned the next day and embarked on a fight to exist in what to
me was a strange new world, with the aim of breaking down barriers.
Whilst I persevered, the constant grind was exhausting. At the end of my tour,
I reported the experience to FCO but doubt whether any serious action was ever
taken against the perpetrators. DFID on the other hand acted promptly in
sanctioning and supporting, which resulted in tangible positive change in my
working environment. Without a doubt, this first experience was damaging
and I considered never going aboard again. But decided I had started
an important journey which I would complete on my own terms, rather than
allowing others to deter me from what essentially became a life changing
experience.
If anyone had enquired into my
background, they would have learnt about my journey to the UK from Barbados at the
age of 9. Whilst not uncommon, this formed an important part of my identity and
outlook. I ventured out to Fiji on my Barbadian passport, rather
than gain a British passport to commence my arduous journey into diplomatic
life. I later naturalised as a British citizen in April 1996, as this
made good sense operationally. But the bruising experiences I encountered
at post only validated the reasons why I had not previously applied for a
British passport. I always found the prospect of being treated like a
second-class British citizen unappealing. Travelling to far flung corners
with my Barbadian passport symbolised my pride in my West Indian
heritage. This pride later shaped how I felt about becoming a dual
national, combining my ambitions as a decedent of the Windrush generation and
my resilience borne from slave ancestry - those who survived one of the
greatest global atrocities in race relations. This understanding of who I am,
meant that I was naturally equipped for success in navigating the challenges of
the diplomatic service.
They would also have learnt that
I joined the UK civil service in 1986 at the age of 21, in the lower ranks and
feeling more grateful for a job, than entitled to a career. This was less
about ambition and more about the socialisation of black Britons at that
time. Over the years I often reflected on this period, questioning
whether it was me or the system. I recall my first promotion to
Executive Officer warranted the office instigating a one-page article in the
Caribbean Times News Paper about my progression up the ranks! This may seem
incredible now, but black progression was quite astonishing back then and worth
publicising. Against this backdrop, the thought of going to work overseas
never actually occurred to me. This was something that white colleagues
did, not people who looked like me. Black people knew and largely
accepted their place on the lower ranks of the UK civil service.
Breaking through the corrugated
roof (I cannot pretend it was a glass ceiling) did not just happen by chance, I
was encouraged to apply for my first overseas posting by a former DFID
colleague Myles Wickstead CBE, then Head of the British Development Division in
Eastern Africa (1993-1997). I trusted his assessment of my ability to work
overseas and still feel his initial “push” to this present day. I felt
empowered because my ability was sincerely recognised and as a result, I
entered a world which did not contain people or role models who looked
like me. I realised overtime that role models are less
about appearance and more about positive values, principles and
behaviours. If all UK civil servants were compliant with the Civil
Service Code, we would all be good role models.
I have fought and won many
battles since Fiji and subsequently went on to do postings in Belize, Sudan,
Sierra Leone, South Sudan, Ghana and Nigeria, progressing to Grade 6 and
becoming a Senior Governance Adviser. What I did with the
opportunity is also paramount. Overall, I concluded that effective diplomacy is
an art, which stems from the ability to relate well with other cultures and
overcome complex barriers to achieve progress. My success overseas came
down to my personal approach and commitment to social justice, which means
dealing with people in a fair and equitable manner, regardless of who they are.
It also means standing by principles and integrity, which sometimes makes you
less popular than other colleagues.
I saw the value added by my
diversity at an early stage in my career as I worked alongside Heads of
Missions and other colleagues at post to achieve UK strategic objectives. An
early endorsement of my effective diplomacy came in the form of an invitation
to lunch by the then Belizean Prime Minister Said Musa to thank me for my
service to his country. This was totally unexpected and at the end of a
major effort on my part to enhance the bilateral relationship at a time of
change. Subsequent successes included: kickstarting development
assistance in Sudan at the heart of the Darfur crisis, promoting justice
and security as basic services for victims of sexual and gender-based violence
and in South Sudan following the signing of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement;
championing security and justice sector reform in Sierra Leone; conflict reduction
and peace-building in South Sudan – I went back for more!; strengthening
accountability and deepening democracy in Ghana and tackling corruption in
Nigeria.
I feel privileged to have had
these experiences. Obviously negative behaviours will persist and
in more nuanced and covert ways, but diversity is less of an oddity in
2020. However, more work is needed because the UK has the
capability to do so much better. Commitment to stamping out such negative
behaviours need to move from talk to action. It is often about getting
the right people in the room and understanding different feelings and
perspectives. The commitment must be mainstreamed. I liken discussions on
race with just people of colour to talking about murder with the deceased.
Our future now lies outside the
EU and realising our ambitions for Global Britain, hinges on our ability to see
the strategic value of diversity within our own society – it starts at home.
We cannot benefit from diverse bilateral relationships, without presenting
a more diverse face to the world. We are no longer in the colonial era
where we can scramble for new territories. We must invest in building mutually
advantageous bilateral relationships on trade and security etc. to remain
relevant and more importantly continue prospering as a nation. Global Britain
means understanding more about the complex identities of different communities
within our borders, in the spirit of multiculturalism and using diversity with
pride as part of our diplomatic effort.
Sonia Warner
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