the new US DP foreign policy doctrine?

[Jim Devine <jdevine03@xxxxxxxxx>]

[is this guy going to be HRC's foreign policy advisor?]

July 16, 2006/New York TIMES

Op-Ed Contributor

An American Foreign Policy That Both Realists and Idealists Should
Fall in Love With
By ROBERT WRIGHT

Princeton, N.J.

AS liberals try to articulate a post-Bush foreign policy, some are
feeling a bit of cognitive dissonance.

They have always thought of themselves as idealistic, concerned with
the welfare of humankind. Not for them the ruthlessly narrow focus on
national self-interest of the "realist" foreign policy school. That
school's most famous practitioner, Henry Kissinger, is for many
liberals a reminder of how easily the ostensible amorality of classic
realism slides into immorality.

Yet idealism has lost some of its luster. Neoconservatism, whose
ascendancy has scared liberals into a new round of soul-searching,
seems plenty idealistic, bent on spreading democracy and human rights.
Indeed, a shared idealism is what led many liberals to join neocons in
supporting the Iraq war, which hasn't turned out ideally [!?!]. In
retrospect, realists who were skeptical of the invasion, like Brent
Scowcroft and Samuel Huntington, are looking pretty wise.

It's an unappealing choice: chillingly clinical self-interest or
dangerously naïve altruism? Fortunately, it's a false choice. During
the post-cold-war era, the security landscape has changed a lot, in
some ways for the worse; witness the role of "nonstate actors" last
week in India, Israel and Iraq. But this changing environment has a
rarely noted upside: It's now possible to build a foreign policy
paradigm that comes close to squaring the circle — reconciling the
humanitarian aims of idealists with the powerful logic of realists.
And adopting this paradigm could make the chaos of the last week less
common in the future.

Every paradigm needs a name, and the best name for this one is
progressive realism. The label has a nice ring (Who is against
progress?) and it aptly suggests bipartisan appeal. This is a realism
that could attract many liberals and a progressivism that could
attract some conservatives.

With such crossover potential, this paradigm might even help Democrats
win a presidential election. But Democrats can embrace it only if
they're willing to annoy an interest group or two and also reject a
premise common in Democratic policy circles lately: that the key to a
winning foreign policy is to recalibrate the party's manhood — just
take boilerplate liberal foreign policy and add a testosterone patch.
Even if that prescription did help win an election, it wouldn't
succeed in protecting America.

I.

Progressive realism begins with a cardinal doctrine of traditional
realism: the purpose of American foreign policy is to serve American
interests.

But these days serving American interests means abandoning another
traditional belief of realists — that so long as foreign governments
don't endanger American interests on the geopolitical chess board,
their domestic affairs don't concern us. In an age when Americans are
threatened by overseas bioweapons labs and outbreaks of flu, by
Chinese pollution that enters lungs in Oregon, by imploding African
states that could turn into terrorist havens, by authoritarian Arab
governments that push young men toward radicalism, the classic realist
indifference to the interiors of nations is untenable.

In that sense progressive realists look a lot like neoconservatives
and traditional liberals: concerned about the well-being of
foreigners, albeit out of strict national interest. But progressive
realism has two core themes that make it clearly distinctive, and
they're reflected in two different meanings of the word "progressive."

First, the word signifies a belief in, well, progress. Free markets
are spreading across the world on the strength of their productivity,
and economic liberty tends to foster political liberty [yeah, right].
Yes, the Chinese government could probably reverse the growth in
popular expression of the past two decades, but only by severely
restricting information technologies that are prerequisites for
prosperity. Meanwhile, notwithstanding dogged efforts at repression,
political pluralism in China is growing.

Oddly, this progressive realist faith in markets seems to be stronger
than the vaunted neoconservative faith in markets. After all, if you
believe that history is on the side of political freedom — and that
this technological era is giving freedom an especially strong push —
your approach to fostering democracy isn't to invade countries and
impose it. And if you believe that the tentacles of capitalism help
spread freedom, you don't threaten to disrupt economic engagement with
China for such small gains as the release of a few political
prisoners.

A strong Democratic emphasis on economic engagement always threatens
to alienate liberal human rights activists, as well as union leaders
[how many divisions do _they_ have?] concerned about cheap labor
abroad. But the losses can be minimized, thanks to the second meaning
of the word "progressive."

II.

The American progressives of a century ago saw that as economic
activity moved from a regional to a national level, some parts of
governance needed to reside at the national level as well. Hence
federal antitrust enforcement and the Pure Food and Drug Act.
Analogously, problems that today accompany globalization call for
institutionalized international responses.

In the economic realm, progressivism means continuing to support the
World Trade Organization as a bulwark against protectionism — but also
giving it the authority to address labor issues, as union leaders have
long advocated. Environmental issues, too, should be addressed at the
W.T.O. and through other bodies of regional and global governance.

Nowhere does this emphasis on international governance contrast more
clearly with recent Republican ideology than in arms control. The
default neoconservative approach to weapons of mass destruction seems
to be that when you suspect a nation has them, you invade it. The Iraq
experience suggests that repeated reliance on this policy could grow
wearying [!?!]. The president, to judge by his late-May overture
toward Iran and his subdued tone toward North Korea, may be sensing as
much.

Still, he is nowhere near embracing the necessary alternative: arms
control accords that would impose highly intrusive inspections on all
parties. Neoconservatives, along with the Buchananite nationalist
right, see in this approach an unacceptable sacrifice of national
sovereignty.

But such "sacrifices" can strengthen America. One reason international
weapons inspectors haven't gotten a good fix on Iran's nuclear program
is that the Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty gives them access only to
"declared" sites. Wouldn't Americans be willing to change that and let
inspectors examine America more broadly — we have nothing to hide,
after all [yeah, right] — if that made it harder for other nations to
cheat on the treaty?

There is a principle here that goes beyond arms control: the national
interest can be served by constraints on America's behavior when they
constrain other nations as well. This logic covers the spectrum of
international governance, from global warming (we'll cut carbon
dioxide emissions if you will) to war (we'll refrain from it if you
will).

This doesn't mean joining the deepest devotees of international law
and vowing never to fight a war that lacks backing by the United
Nations Security Council. But it does mean that, in the case of Iraq,
ignoring the Security Council and international opinion had excessive
costs: (1) eroding the norm against invasions not justified by
self-defense or imminent threat; (2) throwing away a golden post-9/11
opportunity to strengthen the United Nations' power as a weapons
inspector. The last message we needed to send is the one President
Bush sent: countries that succumb to pressure to admit weapons
inspectors will be invaded anyway. Peacefully blunting the threats
posed by nuclear technologies in North Korea and Iran would be tricky
in any event, but this message has made it trickier. (Ever wonder why
Iran wants "security guarantees"?)

The administration's misjudgment in Iraq highlights the distinction —
sometimes glossed over by neoconservatives — between transparency and
regime change. Had we held off on invasion, demanding in return that
United Nations inspections be expanded and extended, we could have
rendered Iraq transparent, confirming that it posed no near-term
threat. Regime change wasn't essential. [to whom?]

To be sure, authoritarianism's demise is a key long-term goal.
Authoritarian states never have the natural transparency of
free-market democracies, and the evolution of biotechnology will make
an increasingly fine-grained transparency vital to security. But this
degree of transparency will only slowly become a strict prerequisite
for national security, because the bioweapons most plausibly available
to terrorists in the near term aren't effective weapons of truly mass
destruction. (Anthrax isn't contagious, for example, and there is a
vaccine for smallpox.) For now we can be patient and nurture regime
change through economic engagement and other forms of peaceful,
above-board influence.

The result will be more indigenous, more culturally authentic paths to
democracy than flow from invasion or American-backed coups d'état —
and more conducive to America's security than, say, the current
situation in Iraq. Democrats can join President Bush in proclaiming
that "freedom is on the march" without buying his formula for
assisting it.

III.

When expressing disdain for international governance, the Bush
administration morphs from visionary neocon idealist into coolly
rational realist. Foreign policy, we're told, is not for naïve,
"Kumbaya"-singing liberals who are seduced by illusions of
international cooperation.

Yet the president, in his aversion to multilateralism, flunks Realism
101. He has let America fall prey to what economists call the "free
rider" problem. Even if we grant the mistaken premise that the Iraq
war would make the whole world safer from terrorism, why should
America pay so much blood and treasure? Why let the rest of
civilization be a free rider?

The high cost of free riders matters all the more in light of how many
problems beyond America's borders threaten America's interests. The
slaughter in Darfur, though a humanitarian crisis, is also a security
issue, given how hospitable collapsed states can be to terrorists. But
if addressing the Darfur problem will indeed help thwart terrorism
internationally, then the costs of the mission should be shared.

President Bush's belated diplomatic involvement in Darfur suggests
growing enlightenment, but sluggish ad hoc multilateralism isn't
enough. We need multilateral structures capable of decisively forceful
intervention and nation building — ideally under the auspices of the
United Nations, which has more global legitimacy than other
candidates. America should lead in building these structures and
thereafter contribute its share, but only its share. To some extent,
the nurturing of international institutions and solid international
law is simple thrift.

And the accounting rules are subtle. As we've seen lately, the cost of
military action can go not just beyond dollars and cents, but beyond
the immediate toll of dead and wounded. In an age when cellphones can
take pictures and videos of collateral damage and then e-mail them,
and terrorists recruit via Web site imagery, intervention abroad can
bring long-term blowback.

Further, when you consider the various ways information technology
helps terrorists — not just to recruit more fighters to the cause, but
to orchestrate attacks and spread recipes for munitions — and you
throw in advances in munitions technology, an alarming principle
suggests itself: In coming years, grass-roots hatred and resentment of
America may be converted into the death of Americans with growing
efficiency.

That domestic security depends increasingly on popular sentiment
abroad makes it important for America to be seen as a good global
citizen — respecting international laws and norms and sensing the
needs of neighbors. One of President Bush's most effective uses of
power was the tsunami relief effort of 2004, which raised regard for
Americans in the world's largest Muslim country, Indonesia. Much of
the war on terror isn't military.

Of course, some of it is, and we'll need the capacity to project force
anywhere, anytime. [whew! no need to sell those defense stocks.]
Still, a full accounting of the costs of intervention makes it clear
that we can't afford to be the world's army.

Fortunately, globalization has made the peaceful suppression of at
least some forms of disorder easier. Economic interdependence makes
war among nations less attractive, and never before has this
interdependence brought so much transborder contact among
businesspeople and politicians.

So it's not shocking that India and China, which clashed repeatedly
over disputed borders during the cold war, have kept things cool since
becoming enmeshed in the global economy. Or that the most worrisome
nation of the moment, North Korea, is about the most isolated from the
global economy; or that its rival for worrisomeness, Iran, is far from
full immersion.

Obviously, wars can happen even when they're irrational. Still, their
growing irrationality is a progressive force worth honoring. It
strengthens the case for economic engagement and for regional and
other international bodies that help cement commercial entanglement
with political cooperation.

IV.

The excesses of neoconservative idealism have prompted various
scholars to adapt realist principles to a changing world. The
political scientists John Ikenberry and Charles Kupchan outlined a
"liberal realism" two years ago, and Mr. Ikenberry's book, "After
Victory," showed how international governance can serve the interests
of hegemonic powers. This fall the historians Anatol Lieven and John
Hulsman will publish a foreign policy manifesto called "Ethical
Realism."

Such works are true to the spirit of Hans Morgenthau, chief architect
of realism. Writing in the mid-20th century, he emphasized that
realism's implications would change as the world changed. World peace
could require radical constraints on national sovereignty, he said,
and the nation-state might drop in significance as "larger units"
rose.

Morgenthau seems to have sensed something that later political
scientists dwelt on: technology has been making the world's nations
more interdependent — or, as game theorists put it, more non-zero-sum.
That is, America's fortunes are growing more closely correlated with
the fortunes of people far away; fewer games have simple win-lose
outcomes, and more have either win-win or lose-lose outcomes.

This principle lies at the heart of progressive realism. A correlation
of fortunes — being in the same boat with other nations in matters of
economics, environment, security — is what makes international
governance serve national interest. It is also what makes enlightened
self-interest de facto humanitarian. Progressive realists see that
America can best flourish if others flourish — if African states
cohere, if the world's Muslims feel they benefit from the world order,
if personal and environmental health are nurtured, if economic
inequities abroad are muted so that young democracies can be stable
and strong. More and more, doing well means doing good. [just like for
Tom Lehrer's "old dope peddler."]

Of course, resources aren't infinite, and the world has lots of
problems. But focusing on national interest helps focus resources.
Notwithstanding last week's carnage in the Middle East, more people
have been dying in Sri Lanka's civil war than in the
Palestinian-Israeli conflict. But given the threat of anti-American
Islamist terrorism, forging a lasting two-state solution in the Middle
East is a higher priority than bringing lasting peace to Sri Lanka.

This sounds harsh, but it is only acknowledgment of something often
left unsaid: a nation's foreign policy will always favor the interests
of its citizens and so fall short of moral perfection. We can at least
be thankful that history, by intertwining the fates of peoples, is
bringing national interest closer to moral ideals.

Harnessing this benign dynamic isn't the only redemptive feature of
progressive realism. Morgenthau emphasized that sound strategy
requires a "respectful understanding" of all players in the game. "The
political actor," he wrote, "must put himself into the other man's
shoes, look at the world and judge it as he does."

This immersion in the perspective of the other is sometimes called
"moral imagination," and it is hard. Understanding why some people
hate America, and why terrorists kill, is challenging not just
intellectually but emotionally. Yet it is crucial and has been lacking
in President Bush, who saves time by ascribing behavior that threatens
America to the hatred of freedom or (and this is a real time saver) to
evil. As Morgenthau saw, exploring the root causes of bad behavior,
far from being a sentimentalist weakness, informs the deft use of
power. Realpolitik is reality-based.

Is progressive realism salable? The administration's post-9/11 message
may be more viscerally appealing: Rid the world of evil, and do so
with bravado and intimidating strength. But this approach has gotten
some negative feedback from the real world, and there is a growing
desire for America to regain the respect President Bush has
squandered. Maybe Americans are ready to meet reality on its own
terms.

Robert Wright, a senior fellow at the New America Foundation, is the
author of "The Moral Animal" and "Nonzero: The Logic of Human
Destiny."
--
Jim Devine / "You need a busload of faith to get by." -- Lou Reed.