A shining city on the hill
Few realised it at the time, but the curtain officially came down on the British empire in November 1956. Churchill had been out of office only a year when Anthony Eden’s government colluded with the French and Israelis to seize control of the Suez Canal from the Egyptians.
Masquerading as peacekeepers, the British got the military calculus right, but the politics horribly wrong. Eisenhower’s response to this Middle East freelancing was swift and brutal and included the threat to bankrupt Britain by vetoing IMF assistance. Within days, Britain was brought to heel and Eden was forced to resign two months later. The Suez crisis publicly shredded any lingering pretence that Britain could take independent action on the world stage and drew a line under an imperial decline that had started in earnest when Archduke Ferdinand took a bullet in Sarajevo in 1914.
The post-war American empire has yet to have its Suez moment. Yet, bit by bit, the evidence is mounting of increasing American impotence in the face of an ever lengthening list of threats and challenges. A recent and partial list would include: a chemical red line crossed in Syria without the ‘enormous consequences’ that were threatened; the expansion of the ISIS caliphate despite the US promise to eradicate or at least contain it; the potential Chinese annexation of the entire South China Sea via aggressive island building; and the constant incursions of Russian troops across the Ukrainian border despite a year of economic sanctions.
These hard provocations to US power have been accompanied by what my teenage daughter would call ‘a whole lot of dissing’. From Netanyahu thumbing his nose at the presidency by talking to Congress without consultation, to the Saudi Crown Prince blowing off a Camp David security summit to protest the Iranian nuclear deal, you get the feeling that the US isn’t getting much respect these days. With the clock now winding down on the Obama presidency, not even close friends can be fully trusted, as demonstrated by David Cameron’s eagerness to sign up for the new Chinese international development bank despite Washington’s obvious disapproval.
Having emigrated a decade ago to put down roots in a true superpower, is my adopted homeland about to have its Suez moment? Not if you listen to most of the 2016 Republican presidential candidates. With the exception of the isolationist Rand Paul, they are tripping over themselves to wrap themselves in the Stars and Stripes and declare that America needs to be bolder; America needs to be stronger; America needs to stop being so lily livered and return to its rightful role as a crusader for capitalism, democracy and human rights. Ian Bremmer – my favourite geopolitical analyst – calls this ‘Indispensable America’. It’s a worldview in which America’s greatness is both axiomatic and unique, and those unlucky enough to be born somewhere other than the land of the free are constantly yearning to either emigrate here or at least emulate it within their own country.
But all this self-proclaimed exceptionalism now feels at best a little old-fashioned and at worst a steaming pile of hypocritical BS. The failure of the green shoots of the Arab Spring to really take root and the rise of authoritarian capitalism in various guises shows that democracy doesn’t always trump stability and raw nationalism. Twenty-five years after Ronald Reagan’s ‘shining city on the hill’ speech, most of the world has realised – with a little help from WikiLeaks and Edward Snowden – that the American bag of dirty tricks is just as open now as it was 50 years ago when we were frantically propping up right-wing dictatorships around the world.
The ‘do as I say, not as I do’ approach ranging from Gitmo to NSA cyber snooping on allies reeks of double standards and, while everyone loves our iPhones and Taylor Swift, the reality is that the world beyond these shores no longer wants to be preached to. If Putin grabbed a microphone and started talking about God having a special purpose for Russia, we’d call him a dangerous megalomaniac. When US politicians do it, many American voters nod in approval.
Luckily Bremmer in his excellent new book ‘Superpower’ offers two other foreign policy choices for aspiring leaders of the free world. One is a values-free Moneyball approach focused purely on getting the biggest bang for the buck. Named after the Oakland Athletics’ data-driven baseball strategy, it disregards both sentiment and style points and prioritises narrow self-interest. In a Moneyball foreign policy there is strict adherence to the Colin Powell doctrine on military intervention first articulated in 1990. Namely, protect clear national interests; have a specific objective; use force as the last resort; have broad public support at home; and have a clear exit strategy: criteria that the Iraq war ultimately failed on all counts.
Obama has tried to ditch the ‘Indispensable’ tag and play Moneyball on various occasions. His much discussed foreign policy ‘pivot to Asia’ was designed to snuggle up to 40% of the world’s GDP, build stronger trade links with Japan and India, and block Chinese regional domination. Unfortunately Obama didn’t follow through with the baseball analogy and sell the equivalent of his over-rated third baseman.
Unless you’re a contortionist, turning towards Asia is difficult if you still have at least one foot firmly planted in Europe and the Middle East. Without pretty ruthless prioritisation, America simply doesn’t have the attention span, money or political will to go round. As China overtakes the US as the world’s largest economy, it has the appetite to take on grand imperial projects like building a second Panama Canal and laying a railroad track to every iron ore mine in sub-Saharan Africa. With $1 trillion dollars earmarked by China for global infrastructure projects over the next decade, we may be watching a Chinese Marshall Plan in action that the US – spread thin around the globe – will have neither the political will nor the financial resources to match, unless it lets some current allies fend for themselves.
Bremmer’s third foreign policy strategy is by far the most interesting to me. It’s ‘Independent America’. This is an America that consciously takes a step back from the world, comes to terms with its own limitations and focuses more on putting its own house in order. It’s an America that accepts its role in a multi-lateral world order, but doesn’t expect to dominate it. It recognises that ‘Indispensable America’ gets right up a lot of people’s noses, and that its track record of ‘fixing things’ isn’t great. Independent America recognises that if a good part of the money spent on being the world’s policeman went instead to inner city schools in Baltimore, to 21st-century domestic infrastructure, and to cutting edge scientific research, then you’re likely to end up with a country that becomes a fantastic advert for modern liberal democracy.
Nobel Prize winning economist Joseph Stiglitz has put the long-term cost of the Iraq war at $3TN, a figure that it is interesting to juxtapose with the 2013 estimate by the American Association of Civil Engineers that US infrastructure now needs a $3.6TN overhaul.
An independent America has a lot going for it. World-class technology and innovation, favourable demographics compared to Europe, China and Japan, the world’s reserve currency, and a good shot at true energy independence within a decade. As a vibrant economy, an enthusiastic trading partner, and a welcoming home for immigrants, America could show rather than tell that capitalist democracy is something to aspire to. Independence doesn’t mean isolationism. An independent America would cooperate where it makes sense, and would accept that on issues like climate change and nuclear proliferation, Russia and China might be necessary if uncomfortable bedfellows.
An independent America could still project force, but could do so in more targeted ways than anchoring a carrier battle group offshore. From targeted drone strikes to excluding countries from US capital markets, an independent America could still be a strong player in global geopolitics. Just ask Sepp Blatter how effective American extra-territorial action can be when it focuses on the rule of law.
After 20 years of drift, America desperately needs a coherent foreign policy. It’s a country tired after two long wars, so while we are still talking tough, we’re carrying an increasingly small stick. We need a doctrine and approach that is well understood and that clarifies expectations both at home and abroad regarding our role in the world. Although they still dominate the political rhetoric, the indispensables are faced with a population that is trending more isolationist. A 2014 YouGov poll showed an America rejecting its role as the world’s policeman, with only 21% saying they should defend fellow NATO member Latvia if Russia invaded, and a scant majority of 56% choosing to defend the UK.
I was born a decade after Suez. I grew up in the Britain of the four-day week, of the Winter of Discontent, and of Denis Healey going cap in hand to the IMF. It was a humbled Britain clinging to its special relationship with the US for international relevance. My children are growing up in an America whose international dominance may be coming to a natural end. Hopefully the 2016 presidential campaign will elevate the conversation above simplistic flag-waving and chest-thumping and give us a grown-up debate about the vital and positive role that America can play in the world. With any luck, the result will be a humbler, quieter, and much more effective America that leads through actions rather than rhetoric; a real shining city on the hill.
By Alan McIntyre | July 2015