http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/site/index/ en U.S. Department of State 2009-01-06T18:09:00-05:00 Tara Foley serves as a Foreign Affairs Officer in the State Department's Office of WMD and Terrorism.

Hello Dipnote readers. It's been awhile. In the past few weeks, I've been fortunate enough to visit both of my alma maters, Boston College and the University of Chicago, to speak to students there about my work for the Department. At BC, I participated in a "Women in Diplomacy Panel," and at the U of C, a career panel for students in the Committee on International Relations masters degree program. Since several Dipnote readers have asked about my background, how I found my place with the Department, and why I choose to do what I do, I thought this might be a good time to share some of my history with you. Being invited to speak at my alma maters was an honor. It was inspiring to talk with students who are so passionate about and invested in their work. It also provided me the opportunity to look back on the past few years on my life, and think about how I got here, musing about my life on Dipnote (who would've thought?). So, as Lewis Carroll says, let's begin at the beginning...

Tuesday, September 11th, 2001 was something like my fourth day of college. That's not the whole story, but it is an important piece of it. I was sitting in a Fundamentals of Politics class that morning when the planes hit the Twin Towers, completely unaware of what was going on outside of our classroom. Later, I watched the events of the morning unfold on TV, and, as many Americans, grappled with so many questions, layered over feelings of confusion and loss. As a newly independent young adult, out in the world on my own for the first time, that day, in many ways, framed the way that I looked at the world, both as an individual and as a student of political science. It caused me to look at myself, and my country, in the larger context of the world, to ask questions, and to apply myself to some of the challenges we face as a nation. I started studying Arabic, and I added a Middle Eastern and Islamic Studies minor to my Political Science major.

I was fortunate that BC, a Jesuit Catholic school, is an institution that encourages students to think about their role in the larger world. One of the school's mottos reads, "Men and women for others," and I can't think of a better way to describe my path from Chestnut Hill to Washington . My education was rooted in the values of community and public service. We were constantly encouraged to think about our place in the community – whether the immediate group of friends and family, our nation, or our global society. My experiences at Boston College demanded that I think about my role in my wider communities, what I had to offer, and how I could contribute.

Throughout my time as a student, I took every opportunity to explore new ideas and interests – study abroad in Morocco and the UK, picking up a new language, a summer internship here at the State Department, community service in Boston, and cultural immersion programs in Nicaragua and Kingston, Jamaica. Experiences like these prepared me, as well as one can be prepared, for the work I do today. After BC, I went on to receive my Masters degree in International Relations from the University of Chicago . It was, as a professor warned me it would be, "academic boot camp." It was also a wonderful opportunity to continue to ask questions and cultivate my topical expertise. After Chicago , I was offered a Presidential Management Fellowship, a program specifically for people with graduate degrees wishing to enter the federal government. And that, along with the incredible support of family and friends, is how I find myself here, at State, and blogging on Dipnote.

To call myself an American diplomat is one of the greater privileges I've experienced in my life. It truly is such a rewarding career, one that is intellectually stimulating and constantly engaging. The experiences I've outlined here are just one perspective, but I think the lives we live do inform our world view, and help determine how we interact with the larger world. At BC, we were told to consider three questions in life: 1) What do you love? 2) What are you good at? and 3) What does the world need? Where these three answers intersect, we would find our vocation. Here at the State Department, serving my country and working in the wider world of foreign affairs, I believe I've found my answer. I am fortunate for the opportunities I've had, and I'm still learning. I hope that the students I spoke with at BC and at Chicago, as well as interested readers, will consider a career in public service, and join me in the experience.]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/men_and_women_for_others/ 2008-03-11T20:18:00-05:00
Last week, at the Democratic primary debate at St. Anselm College in New Hampshire, the very first question posed by moderator Charles Gibson was about the threat of nuclear terrorism. Confronted with a hypothetical scenario of a nuclear-equipped al-Qaeda, Senator Clinton said, "I think it's important... because obviously that's the most direct threat to the United States." She then went on to describe five steps she would take in that scenario.

Days later, Pope Benedict gave his annual "state of the world" address in Vatican City. He called on world leaders to strengthen their joint efforts to "prevent terrorists from gaining access to weapons of mass destruction."

For his part, President Bush says that, "The greatest threat we face today is the possibility of a secret and sudden attack with chemical, biological, radiological, or nuclear weapons."

Across the board, the State Department, the Department of Energy, the FBI, the Department of Homeland Security, Congress, the White House, and many others are working to prevent terrorists from acquiring and using nuclear weapons and materials, and to plan how to respond to a nuclear terrorist attack if one were to occur.

For some people, though, the threat of nuclear terrorism belongs more in the plot line of a Jack Bauer escapade on the television drama 24 than on the priority lists of presidents and popes. Still, many people are aware of and concerned about the threat.

A recent public opinion survey by the Saga foundation found that 62% of Americans are concerned about the possibility of a nuclear terrorist attack on U.S. soil, while 38% are not concerned. The same survey found that 49% of Americans think Al-Qaeda poses a greater nuclear threat to the United States than another country armed with nuclear weapons.

I wonder where DipNote readers fall on this question:

Are you concerned about the threat of nuclear terrorism? Why or why not?

I'm interested in hearing your thoughts!

(Note: I had a lot of fun blogging about my experiences in Saudi Arabia last year. As I continue to reflect on my time in Riyadh, I'm sure I'll have more posts about Saudi in the future. But I'm also going to start sharing some of my experiences with my current position with the Office of WMD Terrorism here in Washington. I'm looking forward to continue engaging on both topics – keep those comments coming!)]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/24_or_the_real_world/ 2008-01-16T13:39:00-05:00
In my first weeks at post, I went from ministry to ministry, trying to learn what I could about Saudi Arabia’s policies on Trafficking in Persons (TIP). Each year, the U.S. State Department, as mandated by Congress, writes a report describing the anti-TIP efforts of countries around the world. (View the 2007 TIP report here). Trafficking in Persons is a complex issue, but generally speaking we use this term to describe labor practices akin to involuntary servitude or modern-day slavery. In Saudi Arabia, our greatest TIP concern is the treatment of foreign laborers. Saudi Arabia is host to thousands upon thousands of foreign laborers, many from Southeast Asia. Many of these workers find amiable working conditions, kind hosts, and opportunity for greater financial advantages. Not all, however, are so fortunate. Some workers who travel to the Kingdom legally to work as drivers, housekeepers, and laborers, find unexpected conditions when they arrive, such as withheld wages, excessive restrictions on movement, and, in the worst cases, physical abuse. While these cases are the minority, the sheer numbers of foreign laborers in the Kingdom means that even if a small percentage of workers are mistreated, we still have a big problem. The Saudi officials I met with were dedicated and passionate about improving conditions for guest workers, but the government as a whole has yet to develop a systemic approach for addressing this problem.

As a result, in 2007, as in previous years, Saudi Arabia ranked in the worst tier for its efforts to combat Trafficking in Persons. Normally, this would require Congressional sanctions against the Saudi Arabian government. Last month, however, the President issued a Determination granting a full waiver of any TIP-related sanctions against Saudi Arabia. (View the President’s determination for a waiver here). In his determination, the President argues that continued funding of Middle East Partnership Initiative (MEPI) activities in Saudi Arabia and continued military sales there are necessary to U.S. national interests and security. These programs are fundamental to continued security cooperation between our two countries and the effective prosecution of the Global War on Terror.

I was not surprised when I saw this determination published a few weeks ago. I cannot even say that I disagree with its conclusions. My heart breaks for victims of labor trafficking. I believe that the Saudi government, like the U.S. government and the governments of the workers’ home countries, can and should do more. We must continue to support and encourage the Saudi government in their efforts to combat TIP, but we also must continue to work with them on counterterrorism in order to ensure the security of U.S. citizens, interests, and allies, including Saudi Arabia. And, from my limited vantage point, the Saudi government is very, very good at counterterrorism.

In the long run, I believe that our humanitarian and security efforts are complementary to one another – that a more compassionate world is also a safer and more peaceful world. But in the day-to-day work of governments, the reality is that world leaders often have to make very tough decisions about what to do with limited resources. This first assignment in Riyadh was a fascinating glimpse at the parallel and sometimes competing priorities of foreign policy. It challenged me to examine my own priorities, and to consider the appropriate balance between my personal ideals (that is, my belief that creating a better world is possible, and that we in government can and should work toward that goal) and my realist worldview (my acknowledgement of an imperfect world and understanding that we have to work within existing realities in order to achieve anything, which sometimes means that we cannot achieve everything at once). I believe that we can continue to work closely with our allies, like Saudi Arabia, to improve national and international security while also working together to develop better and more cooperative approaches to our humanitarian problems. It will sometimes be difficult to achieve this balance. But I think it’s a challenge worth taking on.]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/humanitarian_saudi_arabia/ 2007-11-17T19:41:00-05:00 Foreign Affairs Officer Tara Foley works in the Office of WMD Terrorism, Bureau of International Security and Nonproliferation. Here Tara shares her impressions of Saudi Arabia... Tara's previous post: Remember the Ladies in Riyadh

One evening last spring, some friends and acquaintances gathered for dinner in Riyadh. After our meal, our small, international group sat and chatted. Some smoked apple flavored sheesha tobacco out of tall hookahs, filling the air with a cotton candy-like aroma, while the rest of us passed around the sticky sweet dates that are native to Saudi Arabia’s palm groves. Amongst the women gathered, the conversation eventually came around to the expat experience: What are the rules of etiquette and interaction when living in a foreign country?

Saudi Arabia is host to any number of expats: European bankers and teachers, American nurses and oil workers, laborers from Southeast Asia, and diplomats from all over the world. Here, in the political and economic hub of Riyadh, all of these people merge, and many must adapt their personal customs to the Saudi way of life. Non-Muslims cannot hold religious services or practice their religion openly, women must alter their mannerisms and dress, and Westerners generally speaking enjoy fewer personal freedoms than they do at home. The difficult question, often, is how to remain true to one’s own values, while also respecting the traditions and standards of one’s host nation.

One acquaintance sparked this conversation when she said, “I don’t understand when people from other places say negative things about living in this country. If they dislike Saudi Arabia, why not go home instead of criticize?” I wondered if that was true. When we are guests in someone else’s homeland, are we supposed to follow the age-old wisdom to say something nice or don’t say anything at all? Or are friends supposed to be honest with one another, both supporting one another’s strengths and working together to improve weakness? I think it’s natural to feel challenged when we encounter such differences; I also think it’s valuable to discuss these challenges with our friends. In the end, how honest should friends and allies be with one another?

The question applies to both friendship and diplomacy. Whether socializing over tea or negotiating across the conference table, diplomats and expats must balance between courtesy and candor. I believe that through encountering lifestyles and values different from our own, we grow as individuals; and it is by discussing these differences openly, with honesty and respect, that we strengthen our relationships with our friends. Often we reach agreement, and if not, we have at least grown in our understanding of one another. ]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/diplomatically_correct/ 2007-10-29T22:02:00-05:00
Last week, I shared some of my personal experiences as an American woman in Riyadh. Today, I’ll discuss a related, but separate, issue: the women of Riyadh. The role of women in Saudi Arabia is changing. Too rapidly for some, too slowly for others; nonetheless, it is changing everyday. As in many cultures, the Saudi woman’s historical role has typically been in the home. Women and men are strictly segregated in public, and women must cover anytime they go outside the home. Restaurants and cafes have separate entrances for “singles” (men) and “families” (women and mixed groups of relatives). Individual tables even have curtains to screen women from prying eyes. A number of establishments are men-only; more than once, I was turned away at the door because the restaurant my friends and I had chosen did not allow women inside.

These outward appearances are all part of a larger question over the place of women in the public sphere. Some segments of Saudi society are uncomfortable with granting women greater visibility and independence. Driving means increased mobility, which causes worry about what will happen to a woman in public absent her husband’s or father’s protection. Some worry that it will be easier for young men and women to socialize together, or even date. Many people ask what will happen if a woman’s car breaks down and a man tries to harm her. Similarly, some argue that the abaya and hijab are necessary protections against male aggression. Personally, I have a hard time understanding the principle of curbing women’s rights in order to curb men’s behavior. Aren’t we all responsible for our own choices and actions? These attitudes, however, are slowly transforming within Saudi.

Modern Saudi women are creating new roles for themselves in society. Greater numbers of women enroll in university and enter the professional arena. Saudi women today are more eager to participate in public life, demonstrating their best qualities in the workplace and in their volunteer work -- their confidence, intelligence, elegance, and ambition. Many young women in Saudi today are entering fields like finance, engineering, and medicine. They have degrees from top schools in Saudi, Europe, and, often, the U.S. Saudi society is working to adapt, in its own way, to accommodate all of these brilliant young minds while remaining true to cultural and religious values. For example, Saudi women work in separate offices, or even branches, from their male colleagues. Still, these changing realities challenge many of the traditional restrictions on women. As women and men share greater responsibility for work outside the home, women have an increasing need for mobility. As a result, the driving debate has recently resurfaced in Saudi, and I, for one, am keen to see what happens.

Of course, not every Saudi woman shares the same outlook. There is often a generational divide when it comes to gender roles. I remember working at one embassy event, where I had to check guests’ invitations and identification. In response to my request for identification, one woman indignantly pointed to her husband and stated, “HE is my ID!” Saudi Arabia only began issuing women their own national ID cards relatively recently; prior to that, the woman’s identity was subsumed into that of her husband or father. Many women prefer this traditional way of life.

Still, the status of women in Saudi society continues to change. There are advances, setbacks, and false starts. The “ladies,” as Saudi women often refer to themselves, discuss many of the same hopes and concerns my friends and I talk about together at home: excitement over landing a new job, questions about how to balance work and family life, trepidation over starting a new degree program. That would not have been the case a generation ago. In the end, the question of women’s rights is one that Saudi women and Saudi society will answer for themselves. As women continue to assert themselves and forge greater independence, they will do so in a way that also makes sense in the context of their own values and tradition. The world can only benefit from all that these women have to offer.

(Post Script: Readers may be interested in the novel “Girls of Riyadh” by Rajaa Alsanea. The novel tells the story of four young Saudi women and their search for identity and purpose in their careers, friendships, love lives, and families. Originally written in Arabic, the novel was banned in Saudi Arabia when it was published, and is now translated into English and available in the United States. Ms. Alsanea is a sharp, witty writer who discusses some complex issues with humor and grace. I found the book offered insight for anyone wanting to learn more about this issue from a Saudi woman’s perspective.)]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/remember_the_ladies_in_riyadh/ 2007-10-19T23:48:00-05:00 Foreign Affairs Officer Tara Foley works in the Office of WMD Terrorism, Bureau of International Security and Nonproliferation. Here Tara shares her impressions of Saudi Arabia... Tara's previous post: My Time in Saudi Arabia

Let’s talk about one of the most contentious, complicated, and taboo topics in Saudi Arabia: women. In the KSA, even the most mundane aspects of daily life can stir up controversy when it comes to women. Working, education, wardrobe, driving, and even a visit to Starbucks are all areas of heated debate over women’s role in society. Of course there are two distinct aspects to this story: the experience of Western women, like me, and that of Saudi women themselves. I think that both perspectives are interesting and valuable in their own right. Some experiences between the two are shared, while others are significantly different. Perhaps more importantly, the experiences of individuals within the two groups vary significantly amongst themselves: Not every Saudi woman feels the same way about her role in society, and not every American woman has the same impression of Saudi Arabia. The stories I share with you here only reflect my own encounters and represent but a small window into a complex and nuanced issue. I’ll address some of the basic questions I’ve received about my own experiences as an American woman adapting to these new social and cultural mores. In my next post, I’ll share some of my impressions of the changing role of women within Saudi society.

To begin with, a brief sketch of the basics. Yes, I had to wear an abaya. No, I did not wear a headscarf, and not once did I get behind the wheel of a car while living in the Kingdom. These are three questions I am constantly asked by people wanting to know more about Saudi society’s views on women. Clothing and driving are by no means the only women’s issues in Saudi Arabia today; some may argue that they are less important than things like education and professional opportunities. I think it’s hard to separate one from the other, but I can understand the desire to do so. I also think people are interested in these details because they are visual signs of greater, less tangible questions people have about gender roles in an overlapping cultural, historical, and religious context that can be quite difficult to grasp. Furthermore, the clothing and driving issues both tap into something that I think lies at the heart of the larger concern: a general unease in Saudi society over a woman’s role the public arena. I’ll talk about that in the next post. For now, let me answer the questions everyone has been asking.

The abaya (ah-BUY-ah) is a long black robe covering the collar bone, ankles, and wrists that women in Saudi Arabia are required to wear over their clothing anytime they go out in public. I wore one every time I left the DQ (Diplomatic Quarter), except while conducting official business for the Embassy. While acting in an official capacity as a foreign diplomat, a conservative Western-style business suit is acceptable attire. So while I attended meetings at the Saudi Ministry of Foreign Affairs in my pantsuit and pearls, the abaya was an essential part of my day while grocery shopping, meeting friends for coffee, or any other foray into the public sphere.

To my surprise, I did not have to wear a hijab (headscarf) in the Kingdom. Saudi law requires that Muslim women cover their hair, but non-Muslim women are exempt. Some Western women in Saudi do choose to wear a headscarf while in country. Some see it as a sign of respect, while others see it as a way simply to fly under the radar and not attract any unnecessary attention. Personally, I wore the abaya because it was required and expected of me, but declined the hijab in my daily activities. In other situations, I have donned a headscarf – visiting a mosque as a tourist in Cairo, for example. There, I covered as a sign of respect while I was a guest in a religious environment, much like when my grandmother and I wore long pants and long sleeves while visiting the Vatican in Rome. But in day to day life, I felt more comfortable presenting myself as I am, an American woman who doesn’t happen to believe in covering up my hair. I have great respect for women, Muslim or not, who choose to cover, whatever their reasons; but to me, the important part is in having that choice. Because I had the choice, I utilized it; I recognize, however, that many women do not have that opportunity.

As for driving, I spent four months in the passenger seat. Women are strictly prohibited from driving in Saudi Arabia. The U.S. Embassy, like many Saudi families, employs drivers so that Embassy officials can get around. The Embassy drivers are fantastic people who work hard to make our jobs and our lives a little bit easier. Still, it’s strange to have to “ask for a ride” anytime you want to go anywhere. Whether I was headed to the Ministry of Culture and Information or to the mall in Memlika Tower, I traveled in the back seat. This complete lack of freedom is frustrating, even infuriating at times. And I was only there for four months.

After clothing and driving, the next thing people want to know is how I was received by men in the Saudi government with whom I worked. If women are treated so differently, they ask, then how could I do my job effectively? With my counterparts in the Saudi government, I had overwhelmingly positive experiences of professional relationships built on mutual respect and cooperation. We worked together as equals, striding toward common goals. There are, of course, always exceptions. On my very first day in the Kingdom, I attended a meeting with some men who declined to shake my hand, or that of any other woman in the group. I’ve thought a lot about that first day and its meaning, and I spent some time discussing it with Muslim friends and colleagues. In my own cultural context, shaking hands is a sign of respect, a way to say hello, and signal that I see my acquaintance as an equal. The Saudi gentlemen I met that day were operating within their own cultural and religious context. From their point of view, they were expressing respect for me by refraining from physical contact. This is something that I comprehend intellectually, but struggle to truly understand in my heart. Culturally, it’s just ingrained in me. No matter how much I intellectualize it, it is very difficult for me to accept someone’s signal that they do not view me as an equal – even if that inequality is considered a sign of respect in itself. I slowly learned to let a Saudi man offer me his hand first, rather than automatically extending my own upon first meeting, in order to avoid awkward moments. Still, I’m not sure if I will ever truly come to peace with this issue. The good news, at least for me, is that this occurred only with a very slim minority of people I met. More often than not, a firm handshake was the beginning to a collegial and productive work experience with my Saudi colleagues.

Of course, abayas, hijabs, and handshakes are only the beginning. But they do mean a lot. The first time I wore my abaya, I felt clumsy with the long robe skimming my toes, trying to make sure I fastened all the snaps correctly. I disliked wearing it every time I put it on. But putting on the abaya was a necessary step for me to enter Saudi society, and the benefits of doing that outweighed, for me, my dislike of having to wear it in the first place. I think it was important for me to see Saudi Arabia from the inside, from the perspective of those that live there. I found that the world looks a little bit different on the other side of an abaya, but it’s certainly a view worth seeing.”
]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/foley_women_saudi/ 2007-10-12T21:40:00-05:00 Foreign Affairs Officer Tara Foley works in the Office of WMD Terrorism, Bureau of International Security and Nonproliferation. Here Tara shares her impressions of Saudi Arabia... Tara's next post: An American Girl in Riyadh

Late one evening in February, my plane touched down in Riyadh. I was about to begin my first overseas assignment for the Department of State: four months as an Economic Officer at US Embassy Riyadh in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. I waited for my luggage, looking around the terminal, trying to imagine what the Kingdom had in store for me, and nervously wondering if it was ok for me to be standing there in my business suit and ponytail. Earlier on the plane, young Saudi women clad in designer jeans, trendy European tops, and flawless makeup had lined up outside the aircraft restrooms, emerging fully draped in black abayas and hijabs, ready for re-entry into the KSA. I wondered how I would fare over the next several months: Would I be successful at my job? What would my personal life be like? One thing I knew, I was excited to begin this new adventure.

The night air was soft and warm; quite a change from the frosty cold winter I had left behind in Washington more than 17 hours before. On the way to the Diplomatic Quarter (the “DQ” neighborhood contains all of the embassies and most diplomatic housing), we drove past glittering Memlika Tower and Faisalya Tower, which comprise the Riyadh skyline. I peppered my embassy sponsor, Diane, with a thousand and one questions, wanting to uncover every last detail I could.

Four months later, my plane landed at Dulles, outside of Washington, DC. In the hours and days afterward, it was my family’s and friends’ turn to pepper me with questions about my time as an American diplomat in Saudi Arabia. Did I like Riyadh? What did I do for work at the Embassy? Was it hard to live and work in a place so different from home? What is the U.S. relationship with Saudi Arabia really like? How did I feel as an American woman in Saudi? What were the people like: both Saudis and the other Americans living there? I’ll address these questions, and others, in future posts. One thing I can tell you is that my time in Saudi Arabia was one of the most wonderful and most challenging times of my life. I feel fortunate and blessed to have had the opportunity to experience a part of the world that many people will never get to see and, I hope, to have contributed to the good work and strong relationship between our two countries.]]> http://blogs.state.gov/index.php/entires/foley_saudi_arabia/ 2007-10-10T02:15:00-05:00