Read My Pins_ Stories From a Diplomat's Jewel Box - Madeleine Albright [1]
Jewelry buffs typically focus their attention on the preciousness of the materials from which an item is made—gold, silver, rubies, or diamonds—or on the virtuosity of the craftsmanship revealed in its design. Secretary Albright’s pins, however, are for the most part unremarkable in their monetary value and, except for some pieces of antique or fine jewelry, likely to be by anonymous designers, and fabricated from materials ranging from base metals to plastics and glass. Rhinestones and crystal take the lead roles over diamonds, electroplating over solid gold.
Of modest intent and manufacture, Secretary Albright’s pins are of a kind that anyone could possess and wear. These are truly “pins of the people,” and part of Secretary Albright’s pleasure in wearing the pins must come from her recognition of their democratic nature. To assemble so notable a collection of pins takes something much more elusive and significant than money—it takes a magical combination of a collector’s eye, which can spot and home in on its target, and an ability to recognize the communicative potential of what might be deemed ordinary things. Through her pins, Secretary Albright tells us a great deal about herself—her sense of humor and her humanity—and does so with grace and flair.
It is especially gratifying to know that this delightful collection, with its engaging history and purpose, can be shared with so many through this publication and the memorable exhibition it accompanies.
David Revere McFadden
Chief Curator, Museum of Arts and Design, New York
Black rhinestone butterfly, Ann Hand
green and coral butterfly, Kenneth Jay Lane
blue butterfly, designer unknown
light blue rhinestone butterfly, Ciner
blue enamel butterfly, designer unknown
large silver butterfly, Christian Dior
gold butterfly, Cécile et Jeanne
lattice filigree butterfly, Caviar
opal butterfly, Tiny Jewel Box
pearl butterfly, Kenneth Jay Lane
gold butterfly and wreath, Miriam Haskell
amber butterfly, designer unknown
green and violet butterfly, Modital Bijoux
rhinestone butterfly, José & María Barrera
silver and blue butterfly, designer unknown
gray rhinestone butterfly, Ciner.
The pin that began it all. Serpent, designer unknown.
I. The Serpent’s Tale
The idea of using pins as a diplomatic tool is not found in any State Department manual or in any text chronicling American foreign policy. The truth is that it would never have happened if not for Saddam Hussein.
During President Bill Clinton’s first term (1993–1997), I served as America’s ambassador to the United Nations. This was the period following the first Persian Gulf War, when a U.S.-led coalition rolled back Iraq’s invasion of neighboring Kuwait. As part of the settlement, Iraq was required to accept UN inspections and to provide full disclosure about its nuclear, chemical, and biological weapons programs.
TIMOTHY CLARY/GETTY IMAGES
Voting in the UN Security Council. That is the serpent pin on my jacket.
When Saddam Hussein refused to comply, I had the temerity to criticize him. The government-controlled Iraqi press responded by publishing a poem entitled “To Madeleine Albright, Without Greetings.” The author, in the opening verse, establishes the mood: “Albright, Albright, all right, all right, you are the worst in this night.” He then conjures up an arresting visual image: “Albright, no one can block the road to Jerusalem with a frigate, a ghost, or an elephant.” Now thoroughly warmed up, the poet refers to me as an “unmatched clamor-maker” and an “unparalleled serpent.”
In October 1994, soon after the poem was published, I was scheduled to meet with Iraqi officials. What to wear?
Years earlier, I had purchased a pin in the image of a serpent. I’m not sure why, because I loathe snakes. I shudder when I see one slithering through the grass on my farm in Virginia. Still, when I came across the serpent pin in a favorite shop in Washington, D.C., I couldn’t resist. It’s a small piece,