The Arrogant Empire (Parts 3 & 4)
Fareed Zakaria
Newsweek
PART III: WHERE BUSH WENT WRONG
George W. Bush came into office with few developed ideas about foreign policy. He didn't seem much interested in the world. During the years that his father was envoy to China, ambassador to the United Nations, director of the CIA and vice president, Bush traveled two or three times outside the country. Candidate Bush's vision amounted mostly to carving out positions different from his predecessor. Many conservatives thought the Clinton administration was over-involved in the world, especially in nation-building, and hectoring in its diplomacy. So Bush argued that America should be "a humble nation," scale back its commitments abroad and not involve itself in rebuilding other countries.
Yet other conservatives, a number of whom became powerful within the administration, had a more sweeping agenda. Since the early '90s, they had argued that the global landscape was marked by two realities. One was American power. The post-cold-war world was overwhelmingly unipolar. The other was the spread of new international treaties and laws. The end of the cold war had given a boost to efforts to create a global consensus on topics like war crimes, land mines and biological weapons. Both observations were accurate. From them, however, these Bush officials drew the strange conclusion that America had little freedom to move in this new world. "The picture it painted in its early months was of a behemoth thrashing about against constraints that only it could see," notes the neoconservative writer Robert Kagan. For much of the world, it was mystifying to hear the most powerful country in the history of the world speak as though it were a besieged nation, boxed in on all sides.
In its first year the administration withdrew from five international treaties--and did so as brusquely as it could. It reneged on virtually every diplomatic effort that the Clinton administration had engaged in, from North Korea to the Middle East, often overturning public statements from Colin Powell supporting these efforts. It developed a language and diplomatic style that seemed calculated to offend the world. (President Bush has placed a portrait of Theodore Roosevelt in the White House. TR's most famous words of advice are worth recalling: "Speak softly and carry a big stick.") Key figures in the administration rarely traveled, foreign visitors were treated to perfunctory office visits, and state dinners were unheard of. On an annual basis, George W. Bush has visited fewer foreign countries than any president in 40 years. Still, he does better than Dick Cheney, who has been abroad only once since becoming vice president.
September 11 only added a new layer of assertiveness to Bush's foreign policy. Understandably shocked and searching for responses, the administration decided that it needed total freedom of action. When NATO, for the first time in its history, invoked the self-defense clause and offered America carte-blanche assistance, the administration essentially ignored it. It similarly marginalized NATO in the Afghan war. NATO has its limitations, which were powerfully revealed during the Kosovo campaign, but the signal this sent to our closest allies was that America didn't need them. Thus as seen by the rest of the world, 9-11 had a distressingly paradoxical effect. It produced a mobilization of American power and yet a narrowing of American interests. Suddenly, Washington was more powerful and determined to act. But it would act only for its own core security and even pre-emptively when it needed to. Bush later announced an expansive, vague Wilsonian vision--which has merit--but his style and methods overshadowed its potential promise.
The Bush administration could reasonably point out that it doesn't get enough credit for reaching out to the rest of the world. President Bush has, after all, worked with the United Nations on Iraq, increased foreign aid by 50 percent, announced a $15 billion AIDS program and formally endorsed a Palestinian state. Yet none of these actions seems to earn him any good will. The reason for this is plain. In almost every case, the administration comes to multilateralism grudgingly, reluctantly, and with a transparent lack of sincerity. For a year now, President Bush has dismissed the notion that he should make any effort toward a Middle East peace process, even though it would have defused some of the anti-Americanism in the region as he sought to confront Iraq. Suddenly last week, to gain allies on Iraq and at the insistence of Tony Blair, Bush made a belated gesture toward the peace process. Is it surprising that people are not hailing this last-minute conversion?
Nowhere has this appearance of diplomatic hypocrisy been more striking than on Iraq. The president got high marks for his superb speech at the Security Council last September, urging the United Nations to get serious about enforcing its resolutions on Iraq and to try inspections one last time. Unfortunately, that appeal had been preceded by speeches by Cheney and comments by Rumsfeld calling inspections a sham--statements that actually contradicted American policy--and making clear that the administration had decided to go to war. The only debate was whether to have the United Nations rubber-stamp this policy. To make matters worse, weeks after the new U.S.-sponsored U.N. resolution calling for fresh inspections, the administration began large-scale deployments on Iraq's border. Diplomatically, it had promised a good-faith effort to watch how the inspections were going; militarily, it was gearing up for war with troops that could not stay ready in the desert forever. Is it any wonder that other countries, even those that would be willing to endorse a war with Iraq, have felt that the diplomacy was a charade, pursued simply to allow time for military preparations?
President Bush's favorite verb is "expect." He announces peremptorily that he "expects" the Palestinians to dump Yasir Arafat, "expects" countries to be with him or against him, "expects" Turkey to cooperate. It is all part of the administration's basic approach toward foreign policy, which is best described by the phrase used for its war plan--"shock and awe." The notion is that the United States needs to intimidate countries with its power and assertiveness, always threatening, always denouncing, never showing weakness. Donald Rumsfeld often quotes a line from Al Capone: "You will get more with a kind word and a gun than with a kind word alone."
But should the guiding philosophy of the world's leading democracy really be the tough talk of a Chicago mobster? In terms of effectiveness, this strategy has been a disaster. It has alienated friends and delighted enemies. Having traveled around the world and met with senior government officials in dozens of countries over the past year, I can report that with the exception of Britain and Israel, every country the administration has dealt with feels humiliated by it. "Most officials in Latin American countries today are not anti-American types," says Jorge Castaneda, the reformist foreign minister of Mexico, who resigned two months ago. "We have studied in the United States or worked there. We like and understand America. But we find it extremely irritating to be treated with utter contempt." Last fall, a senior ambassador to the United Nations, in a speech supporting America's position on Iraq, added an innocuous phrase that could have been seen as deviating from that support. The Bush administration called up his foreign minister and demanded that he be formally reprimanded within an hour. The ambassador now seethes when he talks about U.S. arrogance. Does this really help America's cause in the world? There are dozens of stories like this from every part of the world.
In diplomacy, style is often substance. Consider this fact: the Clinton administration used force on three important occasions--Bosnia, Haiti and Kosovo. In none of them did it take the matter to the United Nations Security Council, and there was little discussion that it needed to do so. Indeed, Kofi Annan later made statements that seemed to justify the action in Kosovo, explaining that state sovereignty should not be used as a cover for humanitarian abuses. Today Annan has (wrongly) announced that American action in Iraq outside the United Nations will be "illegal." While the Clinton administration--or the first Bush administration--was assertive in many ways, people did not seek assurances about its intentions. The Bush administration does not bear all the blame for this dramatic change in attitudes. Because of 9-11, it has had to act forcefully on the world stage and assert American power. But that should have been all the more reason to adopt a posture of consultation and cooperation while doing what needed to be done. The point is to scare our enemies, not terrify the rest of the world.
PART IV: THE WAY TO BUCK HISTORY
In 1992, Paul Wolfowitz, then a senior official in the first Bush administration, authored a Pentagon document that argued that in an era of overwhelming American dominance, U.S. foreign policy should be geared toward maintaining our advantage and discouraging the rise of other great powers. The premise behind this strategy is perfectly sensible. The United States should attempt to lengthen its era of supremacy for as long as it can. Any country would try to do the same (though a wise one would not be foolish enough to announce it). For that reason, the elder Bush ordered the Pentagon to water down the document so that it was not quite so arrogant.
In principle, American power is not simply good for America; it is good for the world. Most of the problems the world faces today--from terrorism to AIDS to nuclear proliferation--will be solved not with less U.S. engagement but with more. The lesson of the 1990s--of Bosnia, Kosovo, East Timor, Rwanda--is surely that American action, with all its flaws, is better than inaction. Other countries are simply not ready or able, at this point, to take on the challenges and burdens of leadership. Around the world, people understand this. In a global survey taken last year, the most intriguing--and unreported--finding was that large majorities of people in most countries thought that the world would be a more dangerous place if there were a rival to the American superpower. Sixty-four percent of the French, 70 percent of Mexicans, 63 percent of Jordanians felt this way. (Ironically, old Europe was more pro-American on this issue than new Europe. Only 27 percent of Bulgarians agreed.)
The real question is how America should wield its power. For the past half century it has done so through alliances and global institutions and in a consensual manner. Now it faces new challenges--and not simply because of what the Bush administration has done. The old order is changing. The alliances forged during the cold war are weakening. Institutions built to reflect the realities of 1945--such as the U.N. Security Council--risk becoming anachronistic. But if the administration wishes to further weak--en and indeed destroy these institutions and traditions--by dismissing or neglecting them--it must ask itself: What will take their place? By what means will America maintain its hegemony?
For some in the administration, the answer is obvious: America will act as it chooses, using what allies it can find in any given situation. As a statement of fact this is sometimes the only approach Washington will be able to employ. But it is not a durable long-term strategy. It would require America to build new alliances and arrangements every time it faced a crisis. More important, operating in a conspicuously unconstrained way, in service of a strategy to maintain primacy, will paradoxically produce the very competition it hopes to avoid. The last two years are surely instructive. The Bush administration's swagger has generated international opposition and active measures to thwart its will. Though countries like France and Russia cannot become great-power competitors simply because they want to--they need economic and military strength--they can use what influence they have to disrupt American policy, as they are doing over Iraq. In fact, the less responsibility we give them, the more freedom smaller powers have to make American goals difficult to achieve.
In many cases the United States simply can't "go it alone." The current crises over North Korea, Iran's nuclear program and the leakage of fissile materials from Russia are all good examples. And while the United States can act largely by itself in certain special circumstances, such as Iraq, the fewer allies, bases and air rights it has, the higher the costs will be in American lives and treasure. And those costs will become unbearable if the United States has to both wage war and pay for postwar reconstruction on its own.
The war on terror has given the United States a core security interest in the stability of societies. Failed states can become terrorist havens. That means we must focus attention and expenditures on nation-building. For all its flaws, the United Nations is doing on-the-ground work to create stable societies in Afghanistan, Kosovo, Cambodia and Mozambique--and for the most part, it's succeeding. The European Union and Japan pay most of these bills. Were Washington to move to an entirely ad hoc approach, why would the rest of the world agree to clean up its messes?
Fighting terror also requires constant cooperation with countries across the globe. America could not have captured Qaeda strategist Khalid Shaikh Mohammed without the active partnership of Pakistan. And yet if you ask Pakistanis what they have gotten for this, they will point out that American tariffs continue to strangle their textile industry and U.S. aid remains meager. Having asked for help in de-Islamizing their education system--a matter of crucial concern to America--they have received little. Meanwhile the overall tone of Bush administration foreign policy has made General Musharraf embarrassed to be pro-American.
The last point is perhaps the most crucial one. Being pro-American should not be a political liability for our allies. The diplomatic fiasco over Turkey is an excellent example. For well over a year now it has been obvious to anyone watching that the Turkish people were deeply opposed to a war in Iraq. Yet the administration assumed that it could bully or bribe Turkey into giving it basing rights. But Turkey over the last year has become more democratic. The military is less willing to overrule politicians. The new ruling party, AK, is more open to internal debate than Turkey's other parties. It allowed its members to vote freely on the motion to allow America basing rights, only to have it defeated. Since more than 90 percent of the Turks oppose giving America basing rights, this should not have been surprising. The administration wants democracy in the Middle East. Well, it got it.
As usual, diplomatic style played a role. "The way the U.S. has been conducting the negotiations has been, in general, humiliating," says a retired senior diplomat, Ozdem Sanberk.
The costs of this mishap are real. If Turkey allowed America to open a second front, we could end the war more quickly and with fewer casualties, and the thorny issues relating to Turkish-Kurdish relations could be more easily handled. But the larger lesson is surely that in an increasingly democratic world American power must be seen as legitimate not only by other governments but by their people. Does America really want a world in which it gets its way in the face of constant public anger only by twisting arms, offering bribes and allying with dictators?
There are many specific ways for the United States to rebuild its relations with the world. It can match its military buildup with diplomatic efforts that demonstrate its interest and engagement in the world's problems. It can stop oversubsidizing American steelworkers, farmers and textile-mill owners, and open its borders to goods from poorer countries. But above all, it must make the world comfortable with its power by leading through consensus. America's special role in the world--its ability to buck history--is based not simply on its great strength, but on a global faith that this power is legitimate. If America squanders that, the loss will outweigh any gains in domestic security. And this next American century could prove to be lonely, brutish and short.
[end] |
