Providence | 12.21.16
Capstones | 1.4.17
By Alan W. Dowd
As
we move toward Inauguration Day and the beginning of the Trump administration, there
are many questions surrounding U.S foreign policy and national defense. That’s
a bit worrisome, because uncertainty in Washington and the West has often been
the enemy of stability and peace in the last hundred years.
To be
sure, President-elect Donald Trump has vowed to “promote regional stability and produce an easing
of tensions in the world.” He promises a foreign
policy “tempered by realism,” an end to the “defense sequester” and a national
security strategy premised on “peace through strength.” And he says he will “make
America strong again” and “make America safe again.”
Toward
that end, Trump wants to build up the
active-duty Army to 540,000 soldiers, the Navy to 350 ships, the Marine Corps
to 36 battalions and the Air Force to 1,200 fighter aircraft, while pouring new resources into “a state
of the art missile defense system.”
With the Middle East on fire, Europe on edge, Russia and Iran
on the march, China on
the rise, and the Korean Peninsula, as always, on the verge, these are sound
and much-needed policy initiatives that would serve the national interest—indeed, Trump vows to “view the
world through the clear lens of American interests”—and promote
international security (which itself is in the national interest).
Yet
Trump also has declared, in a
surprising echo of President Barack Obama’s “nation building here at home”
mantra, “We have to build our own nation.” He has embraced the
historically-fraught “America First” label. (Whether he did so aware of its
connotations or unwittingly is unclear, but neither alternative is particularly
comforting.) He has threatened to “terminate” NAFTA, declared that South Korea
and Japan “do not pay us what they should be paying us” for the U.S. security
umbrella, and concluded that “NATO is
obsolete.”
Put
these two halves of Trump’s foreign-policy vision together—building up and
pulling back— and it looks like the blueprint for a 21st-century “Fortress
America.” As history reminds us, the security payoffs of such an approach are
ephemeral and fleeting. Both the national interest and international security
suffer when America turns inward.
Costs
We have heard much from Obama and Trump about the costs of engagement—and
understandably so.The Cold War cost
Americans 104,000 military personnel and $6 trillion. Post-9/11 wars have
claimed more than 6,800 military personnel and consumed nearly $2 trillion.
(The human and material costs of war serve as the best argument for
deterrence.)
But we
hear little about the costs of disengagement: Pearl Harbor in 1941; Korea in
1950; post-Soviet Afghanistan, which spawned the Taliban, which provided safe
haven to al Qaeda; Iraq and Syria today, which spawned ISIS.
And we
often ignore the benefits of engagement. During World War II, U.S. engagement
prevented a return to the Dark Ages. During the Cold War, U.S. engagement
preserved free government, elevated human rights, rehabilitated Germany and
Japan, and transformed Europe from an incubator of war into a partnership of
prosperity. For 71 years, U.S. engagement has prevented war between great
powers, which was the norm from 1745 to 1945. Not coincidentally, U.S. forces have been deployed in Europe since 1944, Japan
since 1945, Bahrainsince 1948, South Korea since 1950, Kuwait since 1991. Today, it is only
America’s forward presence (though spread thin due to shortsighted withdrawals as
well as the bipartisan gamble known as sequestration) that is keeping Eastern
Europe free from Russian intervention and keeping the Pacific relatively
pacific.
This isn’t charity work. We
aren’t getting a “bad deal,” to borrow a phrase. An international order that
tilts in favor of free governments and free markets, a peaceful Europe, a
stable Asia-Pacific, the free flow of oil through the Persian Gulf, an open
trading system connected by open sea lanes—all of this is in the national
interest.
In fact, America benefits from the liberal international order—which America
helped build—more than any other nation. As Paul Miller of the National Defense
University observes, “Liberal order is the outer perimeter of
American security.”
Contrary
to the nation-building-at-home caucus, upholding the liberal postwar order
through alliances and engagement isn’t a waste of resources or a diversion from
our interests. It’s the very opposite: A RAND
study concluded that “a
50-percent retrenchment in U.S. overseas security commitments could reduce U.S.
bilateral trade in goods and services annually by as much as $577 billion…Based
on conservative assumptions, the resulting annual decline in U.S. gross
domestic product (GDP) would be $490 billion.”
Dangers
To be sure, U.S. engagement often falls into the category of enlightened
self-interest. But what’s wrong with serving the interests of the United
States, while, along the way, serving the interests of humanity? As President
Dwight Eisenhower observed, “We could be
the wealthiest and the most mighty nation, and still lose the battle of the
world, if we do not help our world neighbors protect their freedom and advance
their social and economic progress.
It is not the goal of the American people that the United States should be the
richest nation in the graveyard of history.”
Eisenhower
knew that freedom and progress need a helping hand. So he didn’t pull back from
the world; he didn’t accept the twin myths that America is either too good for
the world or can do no good in the world; he didn’t withdraw from Korea; he
didn’t cut short nation-building missions in Japan and Germany that would take
a generation to succeed.
Instead,
Eisenhower (and President Harry Truman before him) forged a national consensus
about America’s place and purpose in the world: to build a liberal order in which America could flourish, to engage the
world and lead the West, to guard the frontiers of freedom and contain the
Soviet Empire.
But
a quarter-century after the collapse of the Soviet Union—after 15 years of
waging war on terrorism—that consensus has frayed. According to Pew polling, 57 percent of Americans want the U.S. to
deal with its own problems and “let other countries get along the best they can
on their own”—up from 30 percent in 2002
and 20 percent in 1964. That explains why Obama and Trump embrace a
decidedly-standoffish approach to the world.
This
is not easy for (or on) the rest of the world. After decades of Cold War
continuity and constancy, U.S. foreign and defense policy has been scrambled in
the post-9/11 years—lurching from President George W. Bush’s “ending tyranny in
our world” military campaigns, to Obama’s “nation building at home” retrenchment,
to what sounds like a hybrid of “don’t tread on me” nationalism and pre-Great
War noninterventionism under Trump.
These
post-Cold War gyrations explain why Tony Blair worried and warned
in 2007,
“The danger with the United States today is not that it is too involved in the
world. The danger is that it might pull up the drawbridge and disengage.”
They
explain why, during the failed Twitter Revolution of 2009, Iranian protestors shouted, “Obama, are
you with them or with us?”
They explain why, with Qaddafi bearing down on them in
2011, Libyan civilians jarringly chanted, “Bring Bush! Make a no-fly zone. Bomb the
planes!”
They
explain why, with Washington “leading from behind,” France had to fill in as
captain during NATO’s operation in Libya.
They
explain why Gen. James Mattis laments how the United States has retreated into
a “reactive crouch” and reports that friends
and enemies “don’t believe we’re reliable.”
They
explain why Secretary of State John Kerry warned long before Trump even
announced his candidacy, “We cannot allow a hangover from the excessive
interventionism of the last decade to lead now to an excess of isolationism.”
They
explain why Gen. David Petraeus worried, again before Trump was on the
political scene, that “inaction” in Syria could lead to “profound risks and costs
for our national security.”
They
explain why, after Obama erased his
“red line” in Syria and failed to punish Assad for reopening the Pandora’s Box
of chemical weapons, French Prime Minister Manuel Valls sighed, “We have created a monster…If we had
bombed as was planned, I think things would be different today.”
They
explain why Assad himself said of the Americans, “You cannot take them at
their word…We don’t listen to their statements.”
They
explain why, after Washington sent him little more than MREs and nonlethal aid,
Ukrainian President Petro Poroshenko told Congress that his
beleaguered nation “cannot win the war with blankets.”
They
explain why Gen. Michael Flynn reported after the Iran nuclear deal, “Our
allies feel abandoned.”
They
explain why Anders Fogh Rasmussen, former NATO
leader, recently argued,
“Putting ‘America first’ should not mean putting friends and allies last.”
Roles and Rules
“When America is willing to step forward and
defend the rules-based order that it did so much to create,” Rasmussen
observes, “the result is peace and stability.”
Peace and stability are very much in America’s
interests. But when America does not actively promote
international order, as history and the headlines remind us, the world grows
less stable, less peaceful and more dangerous—and that’s decidedly not in
America’s interests.
That word “order” sometimes carries an unpleasant connotation. But order is an
essential part of God’s plan. Genesis tells us God brought form and order out
of chaos. Paul writes that God is not a God of
disorder, and he urges us to pray for “all those in authority that we may live peaceful and quiet
lives.” The implication is clear: Legitimate governments exist to promote
order—within and between nation-states. Why? Because the natural order
of the world is not orderly, and God’s crowning creation cannot flourish in
chaos.
The liberal international order forged after World War II did not emerge by
accident and does not endure by magic. Now, as in 1945, it depends on
America projecting power into the global commons, supporting free government,
promoting free trade, defending freedom of the seas and skies, deterring
aggressive states, enforcing international norms of behavior, and serving as
civilization’s first responder and last line of
defense.
The United States cannot play that
role—at least not effectively—while “leading from behind” or focusing on
“nation building here at home” or waving the “America First” banner.