By Jay Nordlinger
Monday, August 03, 2020
Note: Below is an expanded version of a
piece published in the current issue of National Review.
For as long as anyone can remember, conservatives have
been labeled “warmongers.” Gore Vidal called William F. Buckley Jr. “the
leading warmonger in the United States.” Reagan was called a “warmonger” every
day, as was Goldwater before him.
Bella Abzug, the radical congresswoman from New York, was
a little more creative. She accused Reagan of conducting a “Rambo-Bonzo foreign
policy.” (John Rambo was an action hero; Bonzo was the chimp in a Reagan movie,
from 1951.)
John Bolton is a veteran Reaganite, and Goldwaterite, for
that matter: On Election Day 1964, when he was 15, he got permission to be
absent from school, in order to pass out leaflets for Goldwater. He has served
in every Republican administration from Reagan on.
His critics on the left have always called him a
“warmonger” — that’s dog-bites-man. But lately, man has been biting dog.
When Bolton published a memoir in June, damning of
President Trump, the Republican National Committee issued a statement calling
Bolton, among other things, a “warmonger.” Trump called him a “warmongering
fool.” “All he wanted to do is drop bombs on everybody,” said Trump.
At the same time, Eliot Engel was in a fight for his
political life. Engel is a veteran Democratic congressman from New York, though
very different from the late Abzug: He is the last of the JFK Democrats, a man
whose foreign-policy views are closer to Bolton’s than to those of the average
Democratic politician today.
“I have always felt strongly about America’s role in the
world,” said Engel in 2005 (in an interview with me). “We, as a country, aren’t
perfect. We’re all human, we all make mistakes. But I think our vision — what
we want to share, what can be taken from our experience — is overwhelmingly
positive. I don’t agree with the Blame America crowd . . .”
June 23, 2020, was Primary Day. Jacobin magazine —
a publication true to its name — slammed Engel as “a longtime and steadfast
warmonger.”
Voters went to the polls to choose between Engel and a
radical challenger, Jamaal Bowman. They voted for the challenger in
overwhelming numbers.
On Twitter, I noted that Left and Right seemed united in
labeling people such as Bolton and Engel “warmongers.” A writer for The
American Conservative magazine replied, “It’s like the only good thing
going on.”
Many think so.
***
Back in 1906, the Norwegian Nobel Committee gave its
peace prize to President Theodore Roosevelt — chiefly for his mediation in the
Russo–Japanese War. The president’s critics were aghast. The New York Times,
for example, thought that “a broad smile illuminated the face of the globe”
when a prize for peace was awarded to “the most warlike citizen of these United
States.”
Seven years later, Roosevelt wrote his autobiography,
which included a line that, again, left critics aghast. “In my judgment,” he
said, “the most important service that I rendered to peace was the voyage of
the battle fleet around the world.”
In 1953, the Nobel committee gave its prize to another
distinguished American, George C. Marshall. His part in the defeat of the Nazis
was a fine contribution to peace. But he won the prize for the Marshall Plan,
or the “European Recovery Program,” as he was the only one to call it. He gave
a Nobel lecture that remains one of the most unusual in history.
He said that the United States was weak in the late
1930s, making it vulnerable to war; and that after the war, the U.S. made
itself weak again, which emboldened North Korea to invade the South. Marshall
was tired of having to “rebuild our national military strength in the very face
of the gravest emergencies.”
Since World War II, there have been 13 U.S. presidents,
some more hawkish, some more dovish — but all of them, pretty much, recognizing
the need for American engagement with the world, and leadership in it. (Trump
is a special case, deserving of its own piece, and books.)
In 2009, President Obama was a peace laureate, and he
said in his lecture,
Whatever mistakes we have made, the
plain fact is this: The United States of America has helped underwrite global
security for more than six decades with the blood of our citizens and the
strength of our arms. The service and sacrifice of our men and women in uniform
has promoted peace and prosperity from Germany to Korea, and enabled democracy
to take hold in places like the Balkans.
We have borne this burden not
because we seek to impose our will. We have done so out of enlightened
self-interest — because we seek a better future for our children and
grandchildren, and we believe that their lives will be better if others’
children and grandchildren can live in freedom and prosperity.
***
Within the Cold War, of course, were hot wars — including
Vietnam. After the disaster there, many Americans were afflicted with “Vietnam
syndrome”: an aversion — well understandable — to U.S. involvement overseas,
especially military involvement. In 1991, after our swift and decisive victory
in the Gulf War, President Bush (41) could not help exclaiming, “By God, we’ve
kicked the Vietnam syndrome once and for all.”
The Nineties were by and large a “holiday from history,”
in which Americans sought a “peace dividend”: relief from foreign-policy
burdens. In a sense, the Nineties ended on September 11, 2001.
“Islamic killers are over here,” wrote Patrick J.
Buchanan, “because we are over there.” Others had a different view: We are
going to have to confront them regardless, either here or there — and better
there.
About the “endless wars,” there will be endless debate.
The Iraq War ended much as Vietnam did, though, after he withdrew our troops,
Obama found he had to go back, after ISIS engulfed the space we had vacated.
In 2012 — accepting, once more, the Democratic nomination
for president — Obama had said this:
I will use the money we’re no
longer spending on war to pay down our debt and put more people back to work —
rebuilding roads and bridges and schools and runways. Because after two wars
that have cost us thousands of lives and over a trillion dollars, it’s time to
do some nation-building right here at home.
There were big cheers and applause. And that was a common
phrase, from Democratic and Republican politicians alike: “nation-building
right here at home.”
The 2016 Republican primaries were an interesting affair.
Donald Trump, in the same language as the Left, accused George W. Bush and his
team of having lied America into the Iraq War. “I want to tell you, they lied.
They said there were weapons of mass destruction. There were none. And
they knew there were none.”
In 2008, Trump had faulted the Democratic House led by
Nancy Pelosi for one thing: failing to impeach Bush.
Campaigning in the ’16 cycle, Trump entertained a crowd, saying,
“Saddam Hussein throws a little gas. Everyone goes crazy. ‘Oh, he’s using
gas!’” To another crowd, he said the following, about the late dictator: “Do
you know what he did well? He killed terrorists. He did that so good. They didn’t
read ’em the rights. They didn’t talk. They were a terrorist, it was over!”
In truth, Saddam Hussein was a great harborer and funder
of terrorists. (Under his wing were Abu Nidal and Abu Abbas, two of the worst.
There was also Abdul Rahman Yasin. After he bombed the World Trade Center in
1993, he ran to Saddam and Iraq.)
Republicans were undergoing a significant change. Newt
Gingrich had been one of the foremost advocates of NATO expansion — an eastward
expansion. But now, in 2016, he was saying, “Estonia is in the suburbs of St.
Petersburg,” and “I’m not sure I would risk nuclear war over some place which
is the suburbs of St. Petersburg.”
(Estonians had fought and died alongside Americans in the
Afghan War, a war that was in part a NATO war, given that the alliance had
invoked Article 5 the day after 9/11. This article says, in effect, that an
attack on one is an attack on all. Only in this instance has Article 5 ever
been invoked, in the history of the treaty.)
***
There is an old saying about Americans and foreign policy:
The Left opposes American engagement in the world on grounds that it’s bad for
the world. The Right opposes it on grounds that it’s bad for America. The Left
thinks that America taints the world while the Right thinks the world taints
America.
This is all too glib, of course, but there is truth in
these words.
Bernard Lewis, the late Middle East scholar, once said,
“You know the expression ‘My country, right or wrong.’ Well, these days,
Americans are apt to think, ‘My country, wrong.’” Jeane Kirkpatrick, the late
political scientist and foreign-policy thinker, said, “Someday Americans are
going to have to face the truth about themselves, no matter how pleasant it
is.”
Madeleine Albright, a secretary of state under President
Clinton, called the United States “the indispensable nation.” “We stand tall,
and we see further than other countries into the future,” she said. She spoke
unblushingly about “freedom, democracy, and the American way of life.”
You can perhaps forgive her her mush, because she was
born in Czechoslovakia in May 1937 — about a year and a half before the Munich
Agreement. Her father was a diplomat (who, at the University of Denver, would
teach another secretary of state, Condoleezza Rice).
No one believes that the U.S., or any other nation, can
watch over the fall of every sparrow — or the invasion of every country, such
as Ukraine, or the gassing of every Syrian child. “We can’t be the world’s
policeman,” the Left used to say, during the Cold War. President Trump says the
very same today, as he did recently to graduating West Point cadets.
We are ending the era of endless
wars. In its place is a renewed, clear-eyed focus on defending America’s vital
interests. It is not the duty of U.S. troops to solve ancient conflicts in
faraway lands that many people have never even heard of. We are not the
policemen of the world.
When the president spoke these words at West Point, some
of us heard an echo of Neville Chamberlain, who, a few days before signing the
Munich Agreement, spoke of “a quarrel in a far-away country between people of
whom we know nothing.”
As to being the world’s policemen, or policeman: true,
who can? But I remember Jeane Kirkpatrick, again — who said, What if there’s a
world criminal? Who will police him? Will he simply go unchecked, creating
mayhem and terror?
Today, as always, there are fearsome threats — including
nuclear ones from Iran and North Korea. Two years ago, President Trump tweeted,
“There is no longer a Nuclear Threat from North Korea,” adding, “. . . sleep
well tonight!”
You will forgive some of us for thinking of Chamberlain —
who said, on his return from Munich, “I believe it is peace for our time. . . .
Go home and get a nice quiet sleep.”
In the face of Iran, North Korea, and other malevolent
actors, nations will do what they can. They are not powerless or helpless. But,
inevitably, they will turn their eyes to the United States, and we cannot look
away, even if we wanted to kiss our allies goodbye — because these malevolent
actors have it in for us, too.
“We’re no longer the suckers, folks,” said President
Trump. This was in Iraq, on December 18, 2018, when the president was speaking
to U.S. troops. The next day, he would announce a withdrawal of troops from
Syria.
On the 19th, he tweeted, “We have defeated ISIS in Syria,
my only reason for being there during the Trump Presidency.” About a month
later, four Americans were killed by ISIS in Syria: two servicemen and two civilians.
Back in December, presidential aide Stephen Miller
defended the pullout from Syria. “Let’s put America first,” he said. “Let’s not
spill American blood to fight the enemies of other countries.” The president
himself tweeted, “Russia, Iran, Syria & others are the local enemy of ISIS.
We were doing there work. Time to come home & rebuild. #MAGA.”
Is ISIS our enemy? Will they leave us alone if we leave them
alone? These are critical questions.
In August 2017, Jim Mattis, who was then the secretary of
defense, spoke to troops about the fight against terrorists. “We’ll fight alongside
our friends and allies, and we’re gonna keep right on fightin’ until they’re
sick of us and leave us alone.” Those words struck some of us as realistic —
raw realism.
At any rate, Mattis resigned the day after Trump
announced the pullout from Syria.
The president would like to withdraw from Afghanistan —
once and for all — by Election Day. Could there be a more understandable
desire? We have been there for 19 years. But the Taliban is poised to retake
power, and they are still in brotherly alliance with al-Qaeda.
Is a U.S. withdrawal in the U.S. interest? There is a
robust debate over this, featuring various worthy opinions. I do not envy the
deciders.
***
In 1999, Pat Buchanan published his book A Republic,
Not an Empire. A lot of us bristle at the contention that the United States
is, or has been, an empire (unless you are speaking of an internal empire, of
course). What did Secretary of State Colin Powell say, at Davos in 2003?
Something like this: “Over the years, the United States has sent many of its
fine young men and women into great peril to fight for freedom beyond our
borders. The only amount of land we have ever asked for in return is enough to
bury those who did not come back.”
But forget republic versus empire: What about the burden we
have obviously borne?
The old gospel song goes, “Gonna lay my burden down.
Ain’t gonna study war no more.” Who can speak against such desires, such
longings?
In his 1988 convention speech, Vice President Bush, the
Republican presidential nominee, chided his Democratic opponent, Governor
Michael Dukakis, saying, “He sees America as another pleasant country on the
U.N. roll call, somewhere between Albania and Zimbabwe. And I see America as
the leader — a unique nation with a special role in the world.”
Plenty of Americans, left and right, would opt for being
another pleasant country, tucked between Tanzania (“United Republic of”) and
Uruguay.
In his own convention speech, 16 years before Bush’s,
Senator George McGovern said, “Come home, America,” over and over, in his
peroration. This too has tremendous and perpetual appeal. But the world tends
to find you, in ugly ways, even if you want to stay snug at home.
On the opening night of the 2012 Summer Olympics in
London, the journalist Howard Fineman wrote that the Brits “show us how to lose
global power gracefully.” But our cousins, remember, had us Yanks to hand off
to. And we have . . . the Chinese Communist Party? Putin? ISIS?
Recently, my colleague Kevin D. Williamson wrote,
We start from scratch, every generation.
History does not bend inevitably toward justice, or freedom, or decency, or
even stability. History doesn’t do that in Hong Kong, or in Moscow, or in
Washington or New York City or Los Angeles. History goes where we push it. And
if we don’t push, someone else will.
Two years ago, another colleague, Robert Kagan, wrote a
book called “The Jungle Grows Back: America and Our Imperiled World.” I said to
him, “The title tells the story, doesn’t it?” “Yes,” he said, with a laugh. “I
debated whether it was necessary to write a book to go with the title.”
The jungle indeed grows back. You have to keep it at bay,
constantly, no matter how wearying it is — or expensive. The consequences of
the jungle tend to be more expensive yet, not just in treasure but also in
blood.
In a tradition of many decades now, foreigners and Americans alike have complained about the U.S. role in the world (not always unjustly, far from it). I often quote something John Bolton once said, about the foreigners: “They’ll miss us when we’re gone.” I’m afraid that we might miss us, too, when we’re gone — if we’re gone.
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