By Victor Davis Hanson
Tuesday, December 27, 2016
For the last eight years, Barack Obama, Hillary Clinton,
John Kerry, Samantha Power, Ben Rhodes, and Susan Rice have sought to rewrite
the traditional approach to foreign policy. In various ways, they have warned
us about the dangers that a reactionary Trump presidency would pose, on the
assumption that their new world order now operates more along the lines of an
Ivy League conference than according to the machinations and self-interests of
the dog-eat-dog Manhattan real-estate cosmos.
It would be nice if the international order had safe
spaces, prohibitions against micro-aggressions, and trigger warnings that warn
of hurtful speech, but is the world really one big Harvard or Stanford that
runs on loud assertions of sensitivity, guilt, apologies, or even the cynical
progressive pieties found in WikiLeaks?
The tempo abroad in the last eight years would suggest
that the answer is no: half a million dead in Syria, over a million young
Muslim men flooding into Europe, an Iraq in ruins (though Biden once bragged it
would be the Obama administration’s “greatest achievement”), the Benghazi
catastrophe, North Africa a wasteland and terrorist incubator, Israel and the
Gulf states estranged from America, Iran empowered and soon to be nuclear,
Russia hell-bent on humiliating the U.S., China quietly forming its own updated
Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere, an impoverished Cuba and much of Latin
America gnawing the limp wrist of U.S. outreach, and the European Union
gradually imploding.
Obama’s lead-from-behind foreign policy has becoming
something like the seduction of an old house. Its wiring, plumbing, and
foundation are shot, but the majestic structure, when given a thin coat of new
paint by the seller, proudly goes on the market as “restored” — at least until
the new buyer discovers that the Potemkin façade is about to collapse from lax
maintenance and deliberate indifference. In other words, Obama’s periodic
declamations, Nobel Prize, and adulation from a toady press are all veneers of
shiny paint; the Middle East, Russia, China, Iran, and ISIS terrorism are the
insidious frayed wiring, corroded pipes, and termites that are about to take
down the entire structure from the inside out. Note that the unrepentant seller
is always loudly petulant that the new owner, as he makes endless vital
repairs, did not appreciate the paint job he inherited.
It was not always so. Ancient American foreign policy
that got us from the ruin of World War II to the most prosperous age in the
history of civilization was once guided by an appreciation of human nature’s
constancy across time and space. Diplomacy hinged on seeing foreign leaders as
roughly predictable — guided as much by Thucydidean emotions such as honor,
fear, and perceived self-interest as by cold reason. In other words, sometimes
nations did things that seemed to be stupid; in retrospect their actions looked
irrational, but at the time, they served the needs of national honor or
assuaged fears.
Vladimir Putin, for example, in his effort to restore
Russian power and regional hegemony, is guided by his desire to recapture the
glories of the Soviet Union, not just its Stalinist authoritarianism or
geographical expanse. He also seeks to restore the respect that long ago
greeted Russian diplomats, generals, and leaders when sent abroad as proud
emissaries of a world-class power.
In that context, talking down to a Putin serves no purpose other than to humiliate a
proud leader whose guiding principle is that he will never allow himself to be
publicly shamed. But Obama did exactly that when he scolded Putin to “cut it
out” with the cyber attacks (as if, presto, Putin would follow his orders), and
when he suggested that Putin’s tough-guy antics were sort of a macho shtick
intended only to please Russians, and when he mocked a sullen Putin as a
veritable class cut-up at photo-ops (as if the magisterial Obama had to
discipline an unruly adolescent).
Worse still, when such gratuitous humiliations are not
backed by the presence of overwhelming power, deft statecraft, and national
will, opportunists such as Putin are only emboldened to become irritants to the
U.S. and its former so-called global order. We should not discount the idea
that leaders become hostile as much out of spite as out of conflicting national
interests.
Throughout history, it has not gone well for powerful
leaders when they have been perceived as being both loudly sanctimonious and
weak (read Demosthenes on Athenian reactions to Philip II), as if the nation’s
strength enervates the leader rather than empowers his diplomacy. Worse still
is when a leader aims to loudly project strength through rhetoric while quietly
fearing to do so through ships and soldiers.
Think again of Neville Chamberlain at Munich, who gave
Hitler everything — including lectures on proper international behavior.
Anthony Eden remarked at the time that British statesmen thought Hitler and
Mussolini were like typical British elites with whom they could do business;
the British diplomats mistakenly believed they could appeal to the dictators’
reason and common interests, and thus they were bound to be sorely
disappointed. A man does not reach the pinnacle of Russian power only to nod
agreeably when ordered to “cut it out.” And a thug such as Bashar al-Assad does
not give up his lucrative family crime syndicate for the gallows because Obama
flippantly announces to the world that “Assad must go.” The worst thing about
Obama’s red-line threat to Syria was not just that Obama ignored it when it was
crossed, but that he then denied he’d ever issued the threat in the first
place.
Putin ignored the gift of the plastic “reset” button, the
cancellation of missile defense with the Czechs and the Poles, Obama’s
trash-talking of George W. Bush, the open-mic promises to be flexible, and all
the other assorted appeasing gestures. Instead he kept focused on Obama’s
insults, and he grew enraged that a strong U.S. acted both weakly and
insolently. Therefore, partly out of emotion, partly from rational calculation,
Putin tried his luck from Ukraine to Syria — and perhaps beyond.
In the ancient era before Obama, there used to be
constants between nations, such as deterrence or the Neanderthal idea that
nations sought to become militarily and economically strong, to warn would-be
aggressors that it would certainly be a stupid thing to attack such stronger
powers. From Vegetius’s Si vis pacem,
para bellum to Ronald Reagan’s “peace through strength,” the common wisdom
was to be ready for war and thereby, and only by that way, avoid war, not to talk
bellicosely and to act pacifistically. Our rewrite, Si vis bellum, para pacem (“if you want a war, then prepare for
peace”), is not leading to a calm world.
Deterrence (and with it peace) often was not defined only
in material terms; it rested also on a psychological readiness to use
overwhelming power to confront an aggressor. Hitler knew in May 1940 that the
French and British armies and armor were superior to his own, but after nine
months of loud inaction, he assumed that the French would rather not risk
losing some to save many. Therefore, he gambled on plowing through the Ardennes
and defeating numerically superior Anglo-French forces that had less desire to
replay their winning role in the prior war than he had to replay Germany’s
losing one.
Occasional unpredictability was unfortunately always a
plus, since belligerents never quite knew whether their intended targets might
go rogue if provoked — and therefore it was often wiser not to provoke them.
Again, deterrence (“the act of frightening away”) rested not just on
quantifiable power but also on a likelihood to use it. It is often said that
occasional perceived craziness is a plus in both poker and high-stakes
geostrategic diplomacy.
In contrast, when a national leader repeatedly lectures
the world on peace, takes options off the table, uses the megaphone to blast
his own country’s flaws and distance himself from its supposedly checkered
past, heralds soft power, and in psychodramatic fashion issues rhetorical red
lines, deadlines, and step-over lines, then he erodes deterrence (in becoming
predictably passive). And the while, his empty sanctimoniousness grates rivals
and invites gratuitous adventurism. The gunslingers of the world vie to gain a
reputation by showing other outlaws how enervated the once-robust sheriff has
become, despite his trash-talking — and sometimes they stage a shoot-out on
Main Street for no apparent reason other than that they can.
Balance of power is another now-despised concept — as if
lecturing China on human rights while it creates military bases on artificial
islands in the South China Seas, or sermonizing to Russia as it absorbs Eastern
Ukraine, is more effective than treating each nuclear power differently in
order to remind China and Russia that neither may predict exactly with whom the
U.S. will side. It was apparently beyond Obama to suggest to Putin that he had
no interests in seeing China block international sea lanes, or to suggest to
China that allowing Russia to sponsor another nuclear power in the region was
not in China’s long-term interests.
Loyalty and consistency are also now-forgotten diplomatic
tools. To paraphrase the Sophoclean code, it is wise to help your friends and
hurt your enemies. Turning the other cheek is the proper New Testament aspiration
for individuals to live by, but the Sermon on the Mount is deadly for nations,
at least until the nature of man changes.
For better or for worse, Egypt, Jordan, and the Gulf
States are mostly friendly; Iran and the Muslim Brotherhood are clearly not.
Israel is a strong ally; Islamist Turkey (despite Obama’s “special
relationship” with Erdogan) is not. Britain and France are age-old partners;
Cuba and Nicaragua are belligerents. But when both friendship and enmity count
for nothing, and there’s no reward for being a friend of the U.S., and no
danger in posing as our enemy, then we shall have lots of enemies and very few
friends. Diplomacy is like the tax code: Subsidize hostility and you get more
hostile actors; tax friendship and you get fewer friends.
The criticism of Obama’s foreign policy is not only that
it was utopian, self-righteous, and naïve, though it was all that and more.
Rather, it assumed that nations were not collections of
people with predictable and all too human aspirations and behaviors. When the
Obama administration discovered that tragic human nature still governed foreign
policy, it objected petulantly, insisting that an American messiah had come
into the world to save it. But the world, for some strange reason, was not
impressed. Instead, it took advantage of the light-bringer’s childish
narcissism.
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