Beyond Peace (7 page)

In the 1992 presidential campaign, a sign in the Clinton campaign office read, “It's the economy, stupid.” That was good politics but poor statesmanship. There is a world of difference between campaigning and governing. We cannot have a strong domestic policy unless we have a strong foreign policy. We cannot be at peace in a world at war, and we cannot have a healthy economy in a sick world economy.

Since the end of World War II, the United States has been the world's most powerful symbol of political and economic freedom. The Cold War was not merely a conflict between two opposing armies. It was a conflict over two opposing ideologies. We triumphed because we were rich economically and strong militarily, but we were rich and strong precisely because of our dedication to the ideas of freedom. The values of political and economic freedom that have guided our country since the days of the American Revolution are the moral imperatives that impel us to play a leading role in the world.

Those who doubt our worthiness to lead should look at our record over the past forty-eight years. We have helped our enemies as well as our friends to recover from the devastation of World War II. We returned Okinawa to Japan and integrated both Japan and Germany into the community of Western nations. We have provided over $1 trillion in foreign aid to nations
in the developing world. Since the end of the Cold War, we have returned Subic Naval Base to the Philippines; launched aid programs to Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union; continued to protect South Korea and Japan; freed Kuwait and protected Saudi Arabia and other Gulf states from Iraqi aggression; safeguarded Israel's security; assisted anticommunist forces in Angola, Cambodia, and Afghanistan; supported peaceful democratic revolutions in the Philippines, in Latin America, and in South Korea; and been generous in our humanitarian aid to Somalia and other countries suffering man-made or natural disasters. Our record has not been perfect, but no other nation in history can match it. It is a record of benevolent leadership and of advancing not only our selfish interests but the values of political and economic freedom.

As we enter the twenty-first century, we must adopt a clearheaded policy based on practical idealism and enlightened realism. For the first time in fifty years, we have the power to set a course for the next century so that all, not just some, nations can experience the victory of freedom over tyranny in the world.

•   •   •

Over the past few years, foreign policy observers have made the following points in articles and commentaries:

• The democratic revolution in Russia and its political and free-market reforms are irreversible.

• European political and economic integration will eliminate the need for a continued U.S. role in NATO.

• The disappearance of the Soviet threat in the Far East means the end of geopolitical competition and conflict in East Asia.

• The U.S.-led victory in the Persian Gulf War ensured the stability of the Middle East and Western access to Middle Eastern oil.

All of these statements are false.

When the reactionary left's coup against Mikhail Gorbachev
failed in August 1991, a half-century of superpower conflict ended. Yet Russia remains vulnerable to extreme nationalists and reactionaries intent on reversing free-market and democratic reforms. The European Community has stalled in its effort to achieve economic and political integration, and Europe is falling victim again to parochialism. Asia is threatened with conflict based on competing interests and traditional rivalries. The Persian Gulf remains a tinderbox that could catch fire at any moment.

We have not achieved perfect peace, which philosophers have been writing about for centuries and which Immanuel Kant described as “perpetual peace.” This idea has always had enormous appeal. But it will never be achieved, except at diplomatic think tanks and in the grave. During my last meeting with Leonid Brezhnev in the Crimea in 1974, I jotted down this note on a pad of paper: “Peace is like a delicate plant. It has to be constantly tended and nurtured if it is to survive. If we neglect it, it will wither and die.”

After the collapse of communism in the Cold War and the defeat of aggression in the Persian Gulf War, many observers concluded that we were witnessing the beginning of a new world order. They were wrong. The Cold War divided the world, but peace did not unite it. Instead of order, we find disorder in many areas of the world. The United States and the Soviet Union have kept the lid on potential small wars, but since World War II there have been one hundred and fifty of them. Eight million more people have been killed in those small wars than lost their lives in World War I. Most of those wars would have occurred had there been no superpower conflict. Since the end of the Cold War, the threat of small wars has substantially increased. Today, seventy-seven conflicts, based on tribal, national, ethnic, or religious hatreds, are being fought, and ruthless dictators such as Saddam Hussein, Kim Il Sung, and Muammar Qaddafi are poised to attack their neighbors.

During the Cold War, the leaders of the United States and the Soviet Union knew that they had the power to destroy each
other and the rest of the world. This sharply reduced the possibility of global nuclear war. Pariah nations such as North Korea and Iraq, which are now trying to join the nuclear club, would not have these restraints. Consequently, the danger of a nuclear war is greater now than during the Cold War. Stopping nuclear proliferation therefore must be a top priority for all of the major nuclear powers—Russia, China, the United States, Great Britain, and France.

All of these issues—the former Soviet Union, the future of Europe, the rivalry in East Asia, the stability of the Persian Gulf, and avoiding nuclear anarchy—represent strategic priorities for the United States. None of them can be resolved without a commitment of American world leadership. We cannot react to every emergency call like an international 911 operator. But we
must
respond to those that affect our vital interests in the world.

The debacle in Somalia was a lesson in how not to conduct U.S. foreign policy. What began as a highly popular humanitarian relief program under President Bush became a highly controversial U.N. nation-building project under President Clinton. As the world's richest nation, we should always be generous in providing humanitarian aid to other nations. But we should not commit U.S. military forces to U.N. nation-building projects unless our vital interests are involved, a test that neither Somalia nor Haiti satisfied. When we do intervene militarily to protect our vital interests, we should follow President Bush's example in the Persian Gulf War, using the U.N., not being used by it.

The fallout from America's indecisive conduct in Somalia, Haiti, and Bosnia reaches far beyond those small nations. As
Washington Post
correspondent Stephen Rosenfeld has observed, “Would a country that reversed course after suffering one day's casualties in Mogadishu be likely to stand up to a nuclear-armed North Korea, Iraq, or Iran threatening their American-allied neighbors? Is it even faintly conceivable that the United States would extend and that Israel would accept an American nuclear guarantee as a substitute for Israel's own bomb?”

Above all, we should not allow our peripheral conflicts, such as those in Somalia and Haiti, to divert our attention from major conflicts where our interests
are
at stake.

The new buzzword in the American diplomatic community is
enlargement.
After containing communism for forty-five years, we are told that our goal now should be to enlarge free-market democracy. This begs the question whether what works for us will work for others with different backgrounds, but even given that limitation, the concept is acceptable only if it is conditioned on American self-interest. This is not opportunism. Kim Holmes puts it well: “The U.S. does not violate its own ideals by pursuing its own interests. We should support democracy abroad when it is in our interests to do so, which fortunately is more often than not.”

But defending our interests is not enough by itself to mobilize American support for American foreign policy initiatives. After our rather belligerent exchanges in Moscow in 1959, Khrushchev was trying to appear reasonable as we sat together at a lavish state dinner in the Kremlin. He pointed down the table to one of his vice premiers and said, “Comrade Koslov is a hopeless communist.” There is no question but that in foreign policy Americans are, at times, hopeless idealists, which is a source of great strength and a potential weakness.

No one would question that our vital interests were involved in World War I, World War II, and the Cold War. But American Presidents invariably clothed our interests in idealistic rhetoric. World War I was not simply a war to defend our interests against imperial Germany's aggression. It was a “war to end war” and to make the world safe for democracy. World War II was not just a war to defend U.S. interests against Nazi and Japanese aggression. It was a war to extend four great freedoms to all people. The Cold War was not just a war to defend our interests against aggressive communism. It was a war to defend and extend freedom and democracy in the world. No war more seriously involved our vital interests than the Persian Gulf War. But even then, the practical objective of defending our access to oil
resources was coupled with the idealistic goal of preserving the independence of Kuwait and advancing the cause of democracy.

As realists, we do not want to become involved in foreign ventures unless our interests are threatened. As idealists, we insist that what is right for us must also be right for others. Bill Safire properly observed, “America will not defend with its lives what it cannot defend with its conscience.”

Enlargement
is a tricky word. In photography, a negative can be enlarged to a three-by-five snapshot or a wall-size mural. Based on the record so far, the present administration is aiming for wallet-size. Some officials clearly believe that the United States overextended itself during the Cold War, particularly in Vietnam, one of its major battles. They tend to resist American involvement, except in humanitarian activities that have overwhelming public support. They have yet to face up to the fact that it will at times be necessary to use American power and influence to defend and extend freedom in places thousands of miles away if we are to preserve it at home. It is a role that will require global vision and big plays from this President and every successive one in the era beyond peace.

In his Inaugural Address, John F. Kennedy vowed “to pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, in order to assure the survival and the success of liberty.” Even during the Cold War, such a policy was praiseworthy but unrealistic. Then, as now, world peace was threatened by several enemies of liberty. We cannot afford to fight them all at once. Since the Cold War, the choices about how and when to fight for peace and freedom have become even more complex.

We must begin by asking ourselves what kind of world we want, now that we have peace. Ideally, all nations should have free economic systems, free political systems, and an unfailing commitment to social justice and human rights. But the world is not a blank canvas on which we can paint our vision. We must take its myriad realities into account as we seek to realize our
goals. The United States cannot become involved in every nation or region where our ideals have not been achieved. We favor extending peace and freedom—but extending peace without compromising our interests or principles, and extending freedom without risking peace. If peace is our only goal, then the victory of freedom may be imperiled. If freedom is our only goal, then peace will be imperiled. It is the burden of being the only superpower that there are things we do not wish to do that we must do, and it is the burden of being a responsible superpower that there are things we wish to do that we cannot do.

In a world without a dominant enemy, we must consider each situation on its merits. Will our involvement be consistent with our values? Will it serve our interests? Will it serve the interests of our friends? Will it serve the interests of those directly involved? During the Cold War, the answer to each of these questions, where our efforts to oppose communist expansionism and Soviet aggression were concerned, was yes. The answer to each question should also be yes regarding our efforts to help bring about the victory of freedom in the former Soviet Union. No other single factor will have a greater political impact on the world in the century to come than whether political and economic freedom take root and thrive in Russia and the other former communist nations. Today's generation of American leaders will be judged primarily by whether they did everything possible to bring about this outcome. If they fail, the cost that their successors will have to pay will be unimaginably high.

Writing this spring in
The Washington Post,
one of the United States's most distinguished foreign affairs observers asserted, “Russia is no longer a world power and will not be for some time.” If the United States falls into the trap of making this fatally flawed assumption the basis of its policy, prospects for peace and freedom in Russia, Europe, and elsewhere in the world will be gravely imperiled.

Those who suggest that its massive problems disqualify Russia from being treated as a great power ignore an unpleasant but undeniable fact. Russia is the only nation in the world with the capability of destroying the United States. For that reason alone, it remains our highest foreign policy priority. But the importance of Russia does not turn only on our immediate national security. Many millions of Russian people, who for three quarters of a century suffered under the most entrenched and brutal totalitarian dictatorship in history, depend on the survival and success of economic and political freedom.

The failure of freedom would also have a profoundly negative global impact. The reestablishment of a dictatorship and a command economy in Russia would give encouragement to every dictator and would-be dictator in the world. Since an authoritarian Russia would be far more likely to adopt an aggressive foreign policy than a democratic Russia, freedom's failure would threaten peace and stability in Europe and around the world. If Russia turns away from democracy and economic freedom and
we have not done everything possible to prevent it, we will bear a large measure of responsibility for the ominous consequences.