The problem with this mindset, besides that tendency toward self-selection, is that it seeks to reduce the demands of targeted individuals instead of simply meeting them—for instance, promoting secularism over religiosity when the former denies the search for reinforcing cultural identity and the latter enables it. Until, for example, it becomes clear to an individual that his religious identity can be maintained under the new conditions of heightened connectivity with the outside world, any communications pushing the desirability of religious freedom comes off as a none-too-subtle assault on existing local tradition—as in, “Let my version of non-/religion enter into your culture and compete with yours—or else!”
To truly reduce the pool of potentially violent nonstate actors is to meet their demands for identity-protecting cultural “tariffs,” not refuse them. If we expect these traditional cultures to let globalization in, then such generational trade-offs are inevitable. In the end, only the locals can ostracize violent nonstate actors, meaning nonstate actors are the best at flipping other nonstate actors—potential or realized. This is especially true when it comes to young people and even more true for this current generation raised under conditions of hyper connectivity. In general, young people respond to peer pressure better than authority figures, and authenticity here cannot be spoofed.
10. CONTINUE TO REVIEW OUR GOAL OF ACCELERATED DEMOCRATIZATION AND, WHEN WE ARE WRONG IN OUR STRATEGIC APPROACH, PROMPTLY ADMIT IT.
An old friend explains the difference between dedication and commitment this way: The chicken is dedicated to your breakfast, but the pig is committed. Think about that wide chasm and you’ll come to understand how America’s grand strategy got so confused under the Bush administration: We committed ourselves to specific outcomes where we should have remained dedicated to broader goals. America should be dedicated to the goal of encouraging democracy around the world, but committed to forcing its appearance nowhere.
It was perfectly fine to topple the right dictator (Saddam Hussein) under the right circumstances (“indicted” by the UN Security Council more than a dozen times), but wrong to commit to Iraq’s rapid transition to democracy—an unrealistic goal. The more we remain committed to Iraq’s premature democracy, the longer this struggle appears to be America’s to prolong or end. But this is an illusion. Iraq’s multiple struggles—both violent and merely political—are not ours to win or lose. We’ve run into levels of commitment on virtually all sides that we’re unwilling to match. We conflated the American public’s dedication with the Bush administration’s commitments—two very different things. The way ahead seems clear enough: Settle for what we can get now and remain dedicated to improving the situation over time. What can we get? First, we’ve launched a successful Kurdish nation, into which America should logically send some of its forces as a long-term stabilizing presence—just as we did in Kuwait. Second, we’re stuck with a long-term Sunni-Shiite tension that either goes dormant because Iraq’s neighbors commit themselves to squelching it, or extends itself ad infinitum because Saudi Arabia and Iran are both committed to ruling the Gulf now that America is clearly overextended and far too isolated.
The Bush administration’s unwavering commitments elsewhere in the region complicated our seemingly intractable position in Iraq. Bush-Cheney remained unblinking in their commitment to Israel, the region’s only true democracy, but only marginally dedicated to a peaceful solution between Israel and Palestine. The Bush administration’s commitment to Israel naturally translated into further commitment: stopping Tehran’s reach for the bomb. America may be dedicated to stopping the spread of nuclear weapons, but we’re committed to stopping only certain states from obtaining them. Israel, the world’s most powerful undeclared nuclear state, possesses at least two hundred warheads, in addition to a conventional military significantly superior to Iran’s. Thanks to our enduring commitment, Israel could easily wipe Iran off the map—today. And yet there is serious talk still throughout Washington about our inevitable war with Iran. Ask yourself whose interests are advanced by such commitment. American? Israeli? Saudi? Remember this: When we go to war, our home front is dedicated but our troops are committed.
Those who make the case for pushing democracy at all costs often point out that terrorists are a function of politics, not economics. As many experts point out, most terrorists who ply their craft in our neck of the woods are middle-class and well educated. Princeton economist Alan Krueger, whose 2007 book What Makes a Terrorist: Economics and the Roots of Terrorism explored this subject, employs a lot of historical data to show that when it comes to reducing the pool of terrorists, there’s no clear link between reducing poverty or raising educational levels and that end goal. So what makes terrorists? Krueger’s data say most arise in states that suppress civil liberties and deny political rights. In short, dictatorships spawn terrorists, because wherever “nonviolent means of protest are curtailed, malcontents appear to be more likely to turn to terrorist tactics.” That answer provides a motive and posits that an absence of opportunity drives some toward violence, but here is where things become complex.
Truly strong dictatorships tend not to suffer domestic terrorists, simply because they suppress civil liberties so effectively. These regimes may frequently sponsor terrorists abroad, but that’s an easily explained tactic: Weaker states employ terrorists in asymmetrical warfare against stronger foes, while stronger ones may sponsor terrorists to avoid direct warfare with similar opponents. When it comes to domestic terrorism, it’s the weaker authoritarian regimes that both spawn terrorists and have a hard time controlling them. In those situations, potential terrorists are afforded just enough economic opportunity to make them dangerous—namely, access to financial, communication, and travel networks that facilitate their tactics. Authoritarian regimes can also push these troublemakers abroad, and therein lies our main interest in this long war. But since almost 90 percent of attacks occur in the terrorist’s country of origin, 9/11-like strikes remain statistically rare, meaning the average American is far more likely to be killed by lightning than by al Qaeda.
Shifting gears, you might argue that since most predominantly Muslim countries feature authoritarian regimes, Islam itself is the real culprit. I don’t know about you, but asking Muslim societies to become less Muslim strikes me as a nonstarter in a world where globalization’s systematic advance naturally triggers a revival of religious fervor and cultural identity. But even if we—for the sake of argument—accept that causal link, we’re still left with the question of how to increase civil liberty within the political system, and here’s where Krueger’s argument that economics doesn’t have any direct impact leaves me unsatisfied. If you want to increase civil liberties, then you must increase the size of the middle class, because, historically speaking, nothing predicts the rise of democracy better than a growing (and aging) middle class.
Indeed, numerous studies today note the same correlation: The bigger the middle class’s share of national income, the greater that country’s civil liberties. In contrast, oligarchic capitalism, or economies in which a small elite controls the vast majority of the wealth, trend overwhelmingly toward authoritarianism—the oil-rich Middle East particularly.
How do you create a middle class? You raise income broadly by fostering individual economic freedom and women’s rights, and seeking sufficiently deep economic connectivity with the outside world so those empowered entrepreneurs can access new sources of capital and technology. If you attempt to short-circuit that historical evolution by imposing democracy upon too small an economic base, you’ll end up with what Fareed Zakaria calls an illiberal democracy, or elections in which radical extremists prevail.
This long war requires serious grand strategy, not seductive shortcuts. The United States should be in the business of applying both its hard-power and soft-power assets toward the same grand strategic end: globalization made truly global. Feed stomachs and wallets first, then hearts and minds will follow. In this change process, globalization is b
oth contagion and cure, acting as a volatile accelerant of freedom’s expansion around the world.
11. SEEK TO CREATE STRATEGIC ALLIANCES WITH RISING POWERS THROUGH DIPLOMATIC LINKAGES AND MILITARY-TO-MILITARY COOPERATION.
For America to win a long war against violent extremism, we must effectively integrate the one-third of humanity whose noses remain pressed to the glass, wondering when they’ll be invited to the global economic party. That process is labor-intensive, whether it’s postconflict stabilization and reconstruction in failed states or infrastructure development and market creation in developing economies. Americans price out far too high, whether we’re talking the political costs of our soldiers or our private contractors’ wages. Yes, we must be significantly involved, but it’s not going to be Americans—much less Europeans—who do the heavy lifting.
No, it’s going to be those longtime frontier laborers of the global economy, the Chinese and the Indians. But these rising powers need our help, too. As both become increasingly dependent on resources drawn from unstable regions, Beijing and New Delhi must continue leveraging U.S. military power. Otherwise, they’ll be left unduly subsidizing weak or corrupt regimes, with their economic connectivity put at risk by local warlords, chronic insurgencies, and violent extremists bent on driving out globalization’s networks. If America can’t afford to maintain global security on its own, and these rising pillars of the global economy can’t afford to replace our effort, then strategic alliance makes eminent sense. Put our nations together, and the global economy cannot be hijacked by shared enemies; but put them at odds, and we could easily destroy globalization much as we did in the 1930s.
Still, here’s the question I often face: Why doesn’t America choose India over China for this alliance? India is already a democracy, while China is expected to remain authoritarian for quite some time. I certainly don’t argue against strategic alliance with India. I’d like it as soon as possible, but I nonetheless prioritize China for several reasons. First, a great portion of our national security establishment wants desperately to cast China as our inevitable long-term threat (now along with a resurgent Russia). Why? It allows it to buy and maintain a huge, high-tech military force for large-scale wars. Second, by keeping China our preferred threat, we deny ourselves access to its significant military manpower and growing budget. With Europe and Japan both aging dramatically and Beijing’s strategic interests in unstable regions skyrocketing, this makes no sense. Third, if we capture China in strategic alliance, we’ll get India in the bargain. But if we try it the other way around, we’ll probably ruin our chances with Beijing, whose leaders fear an encirclement strategy by Washington with India as its key western pillar. Better to lock in China as soon as possible as the land-power anchor of an East Asian NATO. The sooner we achieve that, along with Korea’s reunification, the sooner we can draw down our military in the region and better employ them in hotter spots around the world.
A smart America co-opts China’s rise just as Britain shaped ours a century ago. Instead of containing China, we should steer its rise to suit our strategic purposes. And what China must do is what America did back then: build its military and rebrand it as a force for global stability. In grand strategic terms, China’s embryonic military dialogue with the United States should be viewed as anything but adequate. Rather than continuing to size our conventional forces implicitly with China’s residual “threat” in mind, our military commands around the world should rapidly and dramatically expand their military-to-military cooperation with the People’s Liberation Army—not because we “trust” China or because we “fear” it but simply because America cannot hope to govern the emerging global security environment on its own.
12. HAVING HAD A STRATEGIC AWAKENING AS THE RESULT OF THESE STEPS, AMERICA MUST TRY TO SELL THIS GRAND STRATEGY TO THE WORLD, AND PRACTICE THESE PRINCIPLES IN ALL ITS EFFORTS TO SHRINK THE GAP AND MAKE GLOBALIZATION TRULY GLOBAL.
The ancient Greek poet Archilochus opined, “The fox knows many things, but the hedgehog knows one big thing.” Let me submit that we just lived through eight years of the decidedly hedgehog presidency of George W. Bush, whose strategic failures must logically be remedied by a new American grand strategy of “many things” instead of the “one big thing” called terrorism.
Americans generally prefer leaders to be steadfast and armed with a readily identifiable worldview. To have a mind subject to periodic change is considered weak and irresolute. We often label these individuals flip-floppers, liars, and—worst of all—politicians, when “lifelong learners” and “deal-makers” are equally applicable. Our democracy regularly requires painful compromises to balance the extremes against the large, mushy middle that encompasses most American voters. After all, this republic is ruled by the majority, which sometimes craves the hedgehog’s unwavering consistency (e.g., Abraham Lincoln, Henry Clay) and at other times welcomes the fox’s intellectual agility (Alexander Hamilton, Theodore Roosevelt).
During the 1930s Great Depression, Americans trusted the preeminent presidential fox, Franklin Roosevelt, to navigate those shoals and the subsequent world war. Taking many of his cues from his ultrafox mentor, Woodrow Wilson, Roosevelt aimed for nothing less than reshaping the world order in America’s image. When FDR passed, history offered us a true hedgehog in Harry Truman, to whom George W. Bush deserves comparison. Faced with a dangerously fluid global security environment,
Harry “gave ’em hell” in the form of a military-industrial complex and the containment strategy, defining our Cold War vision for decades to come. A war-weary America turned next to hedgehog Dwight Eisenhower, hoping his steadying hand would calm our increasingly volatile confrontations with the Soviets. The result was both comforting and suffocating: our “happy days” stability and slow-but-steadily-improving race relations came at the price of McCarthyism and father-knows-best gender conformity.
A trio of fox presidents defined the tumultuous 1960s. It started with John Kennedy’s cacophony of bold visions (e.g., space race, foreign aid, irregular warfare), grew with Lyndon Johnson’s legislative genius (civil rights, Medicare, voting rights), and culminated in Richard Nixon’s stunningly ambitious diplomatic schemes. Linking all three in failure, however, was the intractable Vietnam conflict and the social unrest it eventually triggered back home. Following Nixon’s frightening self-destruction through the Watergate scandal, Americans selected three consecutive hedgehog presidents to achieve—across a long historical arc—a resurrection of America’s self-confidence and character. Gerald Ford afforded us “a time to heal,” while Jimmy Carter restored morality to our national politics and foreign policy. But it was Ronald Reagan, a quintessential hedgehog, who most shaped the global superpower that emerged—seemingly unscathed—from the Cold War. His turbocharged defense buildup begat the awesome conventional warfighting capacity we possess today—the Leviathan ensuring peace among great powers. Most important, Reagan restored America’s belief in its inherent goodness and its duty to combat evil in this world.
The Cold War’s end demanded a new strategic nimbleness from presidents free of that era’s ideological rigidity. We got that agility in global security affairs from George H. W. Bush’s pragmatic administration and in global economic affairs from Bill Clinton’s free-trade evangelism. After the dizzying ride of the go-go nineties, George W. Bush pulled off the electoral miracle that was the 2000 election, promising more humility in our foreign policy. At least, that was the theory going in. To that end, the inexperienced former governor was provided several steadying hands from previous Republican administrations (e.g., Cheney, Rumsfeld, Powell, Rice). But when 9/11 intervened, Americans discovered George Bush—so long incurious about global affairs—to be the most myopically hedgehog president in modern times, a man whose entire legacy will be defined by his decision to invade Iraq and occupy it badly.
Now, as the Obama administration settles in, let me offer this advice: Seek out foxes and avoid hedgehogs. Don’t listen to leaders who tell you our recent e
lection boiled down to one thing and one thing alone. While that approach made sense for some time following 9/11, America has clearly moved past that historical inflection point. We need to grant our new president the opportunity to supply more than one answer to every question; he must have a toolkit that is as diverse as America’s middle-class ideology must remain flexible. We need a deal-maker, a compromiser, and a closer. We need someone able to finish what others cannot, and start that which others dare not.
We need leaders who know many things, because we’ve had enough of those who know only one big thing.
Three
THE AMERICAN TRAJECTORY
Of Great Men and Great Powers
No outcome under the sun is certain. In America’s short history, there have never been inevitable outcomes. Uniting these states took great work by great men with great vision.
As a relatively young country, we Americans spend little time remembering our history. That tendency gives us a bit of myopia when it comes to judging the political evolution of other countries. We simply cannot understand why everyone shouldn’t be able to quickly put together a democracy like our own. As we scan the horizon looking for the future, and as we regard the development of men and nations on distant shores, and as the American System spreads across the world through the revolutionary force known as globalization, we would do well to remember how we ourselves became a great power in the first place, and that the process wasn’t at all pretty. American liberal democracy did not spring whole from the head of Zeus.
The harsh truth is that most developing countries that embrace markets and globalization do so as single-party states. Sure, many feature a marginal opposition party, just as the Harlem Globetrotters always play the Washington Generals, but they’re still single-party states. Mexico was like this for decades, as were South Korea and Japan.
Great Powers Page 9