As our man in Sudan, my name made even a warlord smile
What an intriguing thought; the role of a name in shaping one’s life. Perhaps it is one that Nigel Genders is now pondering. As the Church of England’s chief education officer, he has spent the past few days explaining the Church’s new guidance on gender identity in school.
I do not know the full history of my own family name, Makepeace. But I have been asked if I chose it myself. Or perhaps some think it was issued as a tool of the trade for a career in diplomacy? On reflection, it has been a quiet, benign presence, including where creating peace has been top of the agenda – and at times helpful.
It made the diary pages once, when I was at the UK Representation to the European Union, liaising with the European Parliament, in the days of Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher. With proeuropean Tory MEPS at odds with colleagues at home, and some Labour MEPS equally out of sync with pro-european party policy in Westminster, a friend thought it amusingly apt as an entry.
I valued it most when crossing borders, especially in the Middle East. Passage can be more a matter of luck than of right. When the passport is opened, more often than not a hint of a smile appears, often followed by a humorous or sardonic comment and I breathe a sigh of relief. The ice is broken. We are on friendly terms. It works at check-in too.
In Sudan John Garang, then leader of the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement, springs to mind. The SPLM had arranged our first meeting reluctantly. I entered his living room uncertain of my welcome. Taking a quick look at my card, he burst into laughter, then called his wife and small daughter in to share the joke. His aides were waved away. All our later meetings were one to one.
In the same country I also encountered a hitherto unthought-of pitfall of the name, arising from the lack of a letter “p” in Arabic, which is therefore often rendered as “b”. This briefly convinced some Shakespearean scholars in the Sudanese press corps that they recognised me as a “Macbeth”. Not quite the image I had in mind when trying to stop a civil war. Happily they soon corrected the error.
One Sudanese friend even tried to convince me that names play such a crucial part in his traditional culture that some saw a hidden significance, even an omen, in the name of their then British ambassador. That I would not claim. Indeed, I put it down firmly to the unfailing courtesy and friendship of the Sudanese I came to know well (and perhaps an undue quantity of Black Label).
Inevitably there were those who found the name ironic. The British may like to think that we have sown good things around the world over the centuries. But there are many understandably divergent viewpoints about that. I used to wonder what it would have been like to serve in a country in which Britain had not played a significant part in recent history (but never did so).
Consul General in Jerusalem was a case in point. Now I work at the Oxford Centre for Islamic Studies, an institution devoted to promoting academic dialogue. Help! Maybe I really am typecast. But then again, I do not mind at all. People often apologise for making “obvious” humorous comments. But no, that’s just fine. The name has treated me well.