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Net Assessment:
The United States -- Distinguishing Between Enormous Power and Omnipotence
May 16, 2003
stratfor.biz
Summary
The net assessment is key to Stratfor's analytical process. It is not a forecast, but rather a high-level overview of the significant issues driving the current behavior of nations or regions -- and from this, forecasts can be drawn. Although Stratfor has used internal net assessments from its inception as a company, we now are sharing them with Premium subscribers on a weekly basis.
Analysis
The United States remains the pre-eminent global power that it has been since the fall of the Soviet Union. It also sees itself as an embattled power. Understanding the United States at this moment in history requires recognition that the United States is at the height of its power and knows it, yet simultaneously views itself as extremely vulnerable. This tension between enormous power and tremendous insecurity defines the United States at this moment.
Two events combined to give the United States a sense of vulnerability. The first was the collapse of the dot-com boom, coupled with a general decline in the financial markets and a slowing of economic expansion. From an objective standpoint, viewed over the longer run, these events not only were unimportant, but actually were beneficial. The United States had experienced an economic expansion that lasted more than nine years -- the longest in American history. Inevitably, substantial inefficiencies affected the economy -- not the least of which was the proliferation of non-revenue-producing speculative vehicles spawned by the Internet. But even without these, the disciplines of the business cycle having been averted for nearly a decade, the United States needed a recession.
The recession itself was extraordinarily mild, and for the last year the United States has been experiencing growth -- though modest to be sure. However, the contrast between the 1990s and the new decade is striking -- and because of the contrast, the psychological effect of the slowdown has been disproportionate. For a decade, Americans not only had experienced extremely rapid economic expansion, but had come to expect that it would be the norm. National and personal economic decisions were made on the expectation that the business cycle had been abolished and expanding prosperity had become the norm. The reassertion of a quite acceptable reality has traumatized many Americans and created deep anxiety.
The anxiety has a demographic dimension as well. The baby boom generation remains a massive demographic cohort whose passage through life has defined American culture since the family-obsessed 1950s. In the 2000s, the baby boomers are entering their last decade before expected retirement. The economic slowdown has particularly affected this group, which has been imbued with a sense of entitlement since birth. Baby boomers?unrealistic economic expectations have had disproportionate effects on them, since many of their financial plans were built around the anticipation of massive economic growth. Their deepest dread is deflation, with declining prices further shattering their net worth. Subsequent generations have time to adjust and do not have the same set of expectations. Therefore, the baby boomers in particular, who long have defined the spirit of American culture, have cast a pall on the United States.
The second event that drove home American vulnerability was, of course, the Sept. 11 attacks. The ability of 19 al Qaeda militants to attack the United States stunned the country and drove home a sense of extreme vulnerability that had not been experienced in its history. During World War II and even the nuclear confrontation with the Soviet Union, the United States had experienced great danger. But in all of these cases the enemy was identifiable and therefore manageable: The Soviets could destroy American cities, but they also had cities that could be destroyed and the United States had the means to do so. Therefore, although there was a sense of extreme danger, there was not an equivalent sense of helplessness. As in the Cuban missile crisis, although war seemed extremely likely for a while, there was also the sense that the government could manage the situation by dealing with a rational and equally vulnerable adversary. Put simply, the Soviets did not want to die any more than the Americans did; that provided an element of control.
Al Qaeda was different: It was not amenable to management. It lacked the vulnerable points that the Soviet Union had. It lacked specificity, geographic and political. It was not clear who to destroy, nor who to negotiate with or what to negotiate about. Moreover, unlike the Soviets, al Qaeda did not seem to share the desire to live. The willingness of 19 operatives to go willingly to their certain deaths created a tremendous psychological problem for Americans: There was no one to destroy, there was no one to negotiate with, there appeared to be no issue to negotiate over and there was no one to frighten with death.
To many Americans, U.S. power seemed incapable of either defeating or placating al Qaeda. The president and his advisers continually emphasized that al Qaeda remained a threat, that the militants were trying to acquire weapons of mass destruction and that they were planning further attacks that probably could not be stopped. U.S. power, enormous on a global scale, seemed to many Americans insufficient to protect them from a group of intelligent, dedicated and faceless men, who could be anywhere and ready to strike at any moment.
Al Qaeda and the economic slowdown combined to create a psychological crisis of substantial proportions within the United States. It is interesting to note that these psychological crises are the rule, rather than the exception, in U.S. history. For example, during the 1980s, the United States underwent an enormous crisis when it appeared that Japan had surpassed it in economic dynamism. In the 1970s, it experienced a crisis of nerve following the defeat in Vietnam. And during the 1950s, the nation underwent a crisis of confidence after Sputnik, when Americans believed that the United States had been intellectually surpassed by the Soviet Union.
Each of these cases -- and others in U.S. history -- have generated interesting results. In each instance, the psychological crisis was based on a reasonable concern that was blown entirely out of proportion. Japan was not more dynamic, Vietnam did not signify American decline, Sputnik did not mean that American science was inferior to Soviet science. Nevertheless, perception became reality to the extent that Americans genuinely believed these things were true. Moreover, they believed this at a fundamental, visceral level, independent of reality. As a result of the power of perception, the United States responded disproportionately in each case -- and with enormous success. The U.S. economy left Japan in the dust in the 1990s; the Vietnam malaise was followed by the confidence of the Reagan era and the collapse of communism; Sputnik led to Apollo 11.
The periodic bouts of American depression lead to bouts of mania -- not in the sense of irrationality, but in the sense of disproportionate exertions designed to overcome adversaries magnified many times by American depression. The United States cannot be understood at this moment if it is not understood that it is currently in one of its periodic fits of mania. The point here is not to regard this mania as dysfunctional. Quite the contrary, the disproportionate response to perceived dangers is what gives the United States its enormous power. Its fear of Japan may have been overdone, but the enormous exertion required to reinvent the American way of doing business paid rewards independent of the threat. The American tendency to over-respond is the foundation of U.S. power: It creates not only the intended success but massive, unintended consequences --frequently beneficial -- as well.
The current crisis has created a global war designed to defeat al Qaeda. Since al Qaeda cannot be directly engaged, its surrogates -- governments that permit activities that enable the network to operate -- are being engaged. It is impossible to tell, at this moment, how large or threatening al Qaeda is. It no longer matters: The American perception of al Qaeda -- based partly on reality, partly on intelligence and partly on the not-unreasonable assumption that planning for the worst is the most reasonable course -- is that it remains a terrible, unpredictable and uncontrollable threat. It follows from this that the United States must overwhelm the threat.
The conclusion of the campaigns in Afghanistan and Iraq represents the manic American will to overcome what the United States sees as an extremely depressive reality. It also has unintended consequences. First, it makes the United States into a global imperial force, reshaping not only geopolitical relationships, but also the internal affairs of nations. Second, it generates massive economic processes -- within the United States and in a host of countries around the world -- that are both dynamic and productive. Just as the occupation of Japan and Germany created unexpected and not fully intended economic consequences, the global intervention by U.S. forces throughout the world is generating unintended consequences. Finally, and in some ways most interestingly, the manic cycle upon which the United States is now embarked has profound social consequences. Just as Sputnik, Vietnam and Japan set in motion social processes that reshaped American society in not entirely predictable ways, what we will call the al Qaeda crisis -- but which includes a range of crises from things like the dot-coms and Enron -- is triggering subtle shifts that will have dramatic effects on the United States.
The underlying reality of the United States is an enormous, but not omnipotent, power. Its armed forces are beyond challenge, and its control of the sea and of space is absolute. Its economy is considered in trouble when it grows by only 1.5 percent a year. It controls a continent without serious challenge and is socially more cohesive than any other continent. Its political system survived the tie vote in the 2000 presidential election without serious problems. Therefore, from an objective standpoint, the United States should be comfortable with itself and its power.
But it is not in the nature of the United States to be comfortable with itself. It moves restlessly from profound self-doubt to tremendous exertion to overcome its perceived weaknesses. It is never genuinely at peace with itself, nor ever unwilling to assert itself.
At this moment, the United States is doing three things. It is in the process of increasing its rate of economic growth, less as a matter of policy than simply as a cyclical matter; it is time to grow again. Second, it is engaged in a massive, not fully defined, global war -- in which it is prepared to go to any lengths to achieve victory by some measure to be defined later. Third, as a result of the first two processes, it is increasing its power globally, bypassing opposition and adversaries, behaving willfully and unpredictably.
The United States is also now in the process of preparing for a presidential election. By the end of the summer, the campaigns will dominate the public mind. The election, in our opinion, will take place in a time of renewed economic growth and ongoing warfare on many levels. It also will take place well into the manic cycle of American behavior. Unlike the election of 2000, which took place at the beginning of the depressive cycle, the next presidential election will be substantially different. |
