From the Los Angeles Times
The Paul Wolfowitz of the '60s
Today's neocons echo Walt Rostow, the
ideologue who helped push the U.S. into an ill-fated war.
By David Milne
September 2, 2007
It was apt of President Bush to invoke the specter of the
Vietnam War in his recent comments on Iraq, because his ill-fated
activism in the Middle East is so clearly reminiscent of U.S. policy in
the 1960s, when taking the good fight to America's "Third World"
enemies was all the rage.
Then, as now, self-assured foreign
policy intellectuals played a crucial role in driving the United States
toward intervention in an intractable conflict thousands of miles from
Washington. One of the key members of John F. Kennedy's and Lyndon B.
Johnson's inner circle was Walt Rostow, whose contributions to the
making of the Vietnam War bear striking similarities to the role played
by Paul Wolfowitz in strategizing the American invasion of Iraq.
Possessed
of a brilliant mind, a Yale PhD, noble intentions and an unwavering
belief in himself, Rostow was a decorated OSS agent during World War II
who established a global reputation as an economic development theorist
at MIT in the 1950s. As a speechwriter for President Eisenhower, he
worked tirelessly to convince him that increasing America's foreign aid
budget was morally imperative in a time of economic abundance -- not to
mention tactically essential in an age of a global Cold War.
Although
Eisenhower was unmoved by Rostow's call for a global New Deal, his
successor was not. When Kennedy took office, he appointed Rostow as his
deputy national security advisor, hoping that the 44-year-old economist
would help ensure that the poor nations in the developing world stuck
with Washington and avoided flirtation with Moscow or Beijing. Rostow's
appointment was celebrated by liberals and mourned by fiscal
conservatives, who were concerned that combating communism through the
eradication of poverty would not come cheap. His friends joked that
Rostow envisioned "a TV set in every thatched hut."
Rostow was
adamant that the United States had a duty to help modernize the Third
World, but he was equally determined to eradicate what he described as
the "disease" of communism wherever it threatened the liberal societal
progress he viewed as morally superior and historically preordained.
The ultimate "Cold War liberal," Rostow was the most hawkish civilian
member of the Kennedy and Johnson administrations with respect to the
unfolding conflict in Vietnam.
In the summer of 1961, he
became the first civilian to advise Kennedy to deploy U.S. combat
troops to South Vietnam and the first to recommend the bombing of the
North. Rostow reasoned that airborne destruction would crush Hanoi's
resolve because "Ho Chi Minh has an industrial complex to protect; he
is no longer a guerrilla fighter with nothing to lose." Rather than
serving his country primarily as a catalyst for Third World
development, Rostow ended up recommending the brutal bombing of a
developing nation and was a chief architect of America's worst-ever
military defeat.
Enamored of the quality of his own counsel --
he was serene in argument because he was so certain he was right --
Rostow framed a policy of military escalation, manipulated CIA field
reports to provide Johnson with a more positive spin on U.S. military
prospects and then, through 1967 and 1968, advised Johnson against
pursuing a compromise peace with North Vietnam. An irrepressible
Pollyanna, Rostow utterly failed to visualize the possibility of defeat
even when it became imminent. A true ideologue, he believed that it was
beholden on the United States to democratize other nations and do
"good" no matter the cost.
The man charged by Johnson with the
task of negotiating an end to the Vietnam War was W. Averell Harriman
-- a former governor of New York, ambassador to the Soviet Union and
one of American history's most celebrated diplomats. While Harriman
urged the president to stop bombing North Vietnam to facilitate an open
dialogue, Rostow, by his own admission, could see "no link between
bombing and negotiations." Appalled by the hypnotic effect that
Rostow's hard-edged advice exerted on an increasingly beleaguered
Johnson, Harriman described LBJ's national security advisor as
"America's Rasputin."
In recent times, the Bush administration
has taken up Rostow's internationalist, crusading mantle and has run
with it to potent effect. Wolfowitz and other neoconservatives have
been identifiably Rostovian with respect to their reading of
international relations: that it is the responsibility of the United
States, as the world's most powerful nation, to democratize and do
"good" -- at the point of a bayonet, if necessary. All seem influenced
by the Enlightenment philosopher Jean Jacques Rousseau's illiberal
injunction that freedom does not necessarily arise from free will:
"Whoever refuses to obey the general will shall be forced to be
compelled to do so by the whole body. This means nothing else than that
he will be forced to be free."
Yet the path that the ancient
Greeks charted from hubris to nemesis remains as seamless as ever;
those individuals who have absolute confidence in the efficacy of their
ideas -- who fail to account for real-world contingencies -- invariably
lead U.S. foreign policy down blind alleys.
To be
fair, Rostow, and today's neoconservatives as well, have been proved
right on some of the great issues of the 20th century. Marxism-Leninism
was indeed a morally abhorrent system that extinguished liberty,
stifled creativity and failed to provide adequate benefits to its
people. Liberal capitalism "won" the Cold War, and democracy has indeed
proved itself worthier than any other form of government.
Yet
the policy of intervening abroad to instill these values in others has
produced decidedly mixed results. Rostow, Wolfowitz, Richard Perle and
others believe in the redemptive powers of liberal capitalism in the
same way evangelical Christians believe in God; they act as if their
value system is divinely authored and view deviations from the
righteous path as heresy. But might not the heretics come around to the
West more enthusiastically if the United States acted as an exemplar,
rather than a militarized agent for change? Tin-pot dictators often
lose their mystique when they do not have an enemy to confront.
Rostow
vacated his office in the White House on Jan. 28, 1969, and President
Nixon's national security advisor, Henry Kissinger, moved in the
following day. The two intellectuals were similar in many respects.
Both hailed from humble Jewish backgrounds, and both attained success
at the pinnacle of American academia. Kissinger nonetheless took U.S.
diplomacy down a very different path.
While Rostow stressed
the opportunities for doing good that came with international
preeminence, Kissinger focused on the limitations of America's vast
though finite resources. While Rostow thought that the American people
should pay higher taxes to finance the nation's global mission,
Kissinger believed, as a classic foreign policy "realist," that dishing
out money to advance "values" was no substitute for nuanced diplomacy.
What happens next in U.S. diplomacy is anyone's guess, but there is a
distinct possibility that history will repeat itself and America will
move toward a more modest role in the world. After a period of frenetic
activism on the international stage, it appears highly probable that
President Obama, Clinton, Giuliani or Romney will look to a pragmatist
-- a George Kennan or a Kissinger -- rather than an ideologue like
Rostow or Wolfowitz for foreign policy advice. Spreading good is an
exhausting business, and America's exertions in Iraq are having serious
political repercussions in the homeland.
David Milne is a
lecturer in foreign policy at the University of Nottingham. His book,
"America's Rasputin: Walt Rostow and the Vietnam War," will be
published next year by Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
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Copyright 2007 Los Angeles Times