From the Los Angeles Times
What isolationism?
In his speech, the president presented a fiction to
avoid a debate
on tough policy questions.
ANDREW J. BACEVICH
ANDREW J. BACEVICH is a professor of international relations at Boston
University and author of "The New American Militarism: How Americans
Are Seduced by War."
February 2, 2006
IN HIS STATE of the Union address on Tuesday, President Bush worked
himself into a lather about the dangers of "retreating within our
borders." His speech bulged with ominous references to ostensibly
resurgent isolationists hankering to "tie our hands" and leave "an
assaulted world to fend for itself." Turning inward, the president
cautioned, would provide "false comfort" because isolationism
inevitably "ends in danger and decline."
But who exactly are these isolationists eager to pull up the
drawbridges? What party do they control? What influential journals of
opinion do they publish? Who are their leaders? Which foundations
bankroll this isolationist cause?
The president provided no
such details, and for good reason: They do not exist. Indeed, in
present-day American politics, isolationism does not exist. It is a
fiction, a fabrication and a smear imported from another era.
Isolationism survives in contemporary American political discourse
because it retains utility as a cheap device employed to impose
discipline. Think of it as akin to red-baiting — conjuring up bogus
fears to enforce conformity in the realm of foreign policy. In that
regard, the beleaguered Bush, his standing in public opinion polls
tumbling, is by no means the first president to sound the alarm about
supposed isolationists subverting American statecraft.
The
problem is that scaremongering about nonexistent isolationists preempts
a much-needed debate over the principles that ought to inform our
behavior as a world power. Call that debate George Washington versus
Woodrow Wilson.
After 9/11, Bush the born-again Christian
became a born-again Wilsonian, embracing the American mission of
spreading liberty around the world. In his State of the Union address,
the president affirmed his commitment to that mission, vowing that his
administration will "act boldly in freedom's cause" and "seek the end
of tyranny in our world."
The Wilsonian project derives from
two convictions: that history has an identifiable direction and
purpose, and that providence calls upon Americans to fulfill that
purpose, which is the triumph of liberty. On Tuesday, the president
reaffirmed his adherence to those convictions, declaring, "we accept
the call of history to deliver the oppressed."
Responding to
these calls from above, Wilsonians tend to neglect mundane details
about feasibility. Wilson had no patience with the idea of limits, and
neither do his disciples. Thus Bush asserts that there is nothing a
righteous America acting in pursuit of a righteous cause cannot
accomplish. One will search Bush's speech in vain for any doubts
regarding American omnipotence.
It was Bush channeling Wilson
that landed us in Iraq. Even today, many Americans agree with the
president's view of the U.S. invasion as an act of liberation, although
many others view the war as patently misguided and morally
unjustifiable. What can hardly be denied is that it has exacted
enormous, unsustainable costs. Put bluntly, we don't have enough
soldiers, enough money or enough friends to persist in this crusade,
much less to implement the Bush Doctrine elsewhere to bring freedom and
democracy to the entire Mideast.
This is where the tradition
of George Washington comes in. As even a glance at the first
president's Farewell Address affirms, Washington was anything but an
isolationist. He was instead the founding father of American realism, a
school of thought based on a lively appreciation for the limits of
power and for the fragility of the American experiment in republican
government. Washington did not counsel his countrymen to turn away from
the world but to approach it warily and without illusions, choosing
"war or peace, as our interest, guided by justice, shall counsel."
The Wilsonian tradition, emphasizing universal values, is an authentic
expression of the American purpose. So too is the tradition of
Washington, emphasizing freedom of action. There is no easy way of
reconciling these two views. Yet in the tension between them may lie
our best hope of navigating safely through a perilous world.
Can America be America absent Wilsonian ideals? Perhaps not. But an
America intoxicated with its self-assigned mission of salvation while
disregarding prudential considerations will court exhaustion, both
moral and material. Our present circumstances may not dictate a full
retreat. But they do require a revived appreciation of what we can and
cannot do. Contriving phony charges of isolationism to dodge tough,
practical questions is not only dishonest, it is reckless and
irresponsible.
Copyright 2006 Los Angeles Times