CIAO DATE: 10/07
The National Interest
Learning to Appreciate France
Paul J. Saunders
Full Text
AMERICA DEFINES itself as the leader of the free world, and there is much truth in that idea. But leadership requires having followers who are prepared to move in the same general direction. And walking a path without followers, allies or partners can quickly become self-isolation—even for the sole superpower.
The fact is, being the sole superpower does not always mean being the sole decider. Allies who are ready to make substantive contributions expect to be consulted seriously; not in a pro forma manner, but in a way that allows them to have real influence in shaping joint policies. Countries that do not have these expectations and are willing in advance to accept whatever choice Washington may make usually have their own reasons for doing so. Some may act out of a strong sense of loyalty to the United States for its values or for past assistance, but most probably hope for something major in return or, alternatively, don’t expect to pay a particular price for their support because it is minimal or symbolic.
But many on both ends of the political spectrum seem captivated by a potentially dangerous and flawed assumption: that other democratic countries will, by virtue of shared values, bring their foreign policies into alignment with the American agenda. The trouble is that notwithstanding their common values, democracies—like all other states—have different interests. No one would expect Finland, Australia and Botswana to have identical foreign policies simply because each enjoys a representative form of government. And even when democracies share both values and interests, they often have different priorities. Without understanding these realities and developing strategies to manage them, the United States cannot maintain a position of real leadership, even within the “free world.”
Take India. The Bush Administration often touts the new strategic partnership between “the oldest democracy and the largest democracy.” But India has been a democracy for decades and, at the height of the ideological struggle between the democratic United States and the communist Soviet Union, often tilted towards Moscow. Even in the late 1990s, the relationship was a complex one, partly because successive democratically-elected Indian governments have seen an Indian nuclear deterrent as a clear national interest—even over the objections of the United States. It was only after the September 11 attacks, when the two countries re-evaluated their individual and mutual interests—and the United States was prepared to accept India as a de facto nuclear weapons state and to downgrade somewhat its alliance with Pakistan—that U.S.-India ties took off. India’s relations with Iran could still sorely test U.S.-Indian bonds.
Germany is another example of why a neat division of the world into democracies and non-democracies doesn’t hold water. Democratic Germany’s citizens and leaders were adamantly opposed to the American invasion of Iraq and acted accordingly, in the United Nations and elsewhere. They were clearly concerned about Saddam Hussein’s regime, but did not see their interests as identical to America’s or believe that the U.S. approach was the right way to advance the interests we did have in common. One should also consider Germany’s role in the European Union. Despite shared values and a common commitment to democracy, EU members often still have a very difficult time defining a common foreign policy—because even they continue to have different interests. This has recently been very clear in Germany’s expanding energy cooperation with Russia, which contrasts with the visible skepticism of some other EU members—especially former Soviet republics or Soviet bloc states. Europe’s common values do lead to common assessments of Russia’s domestic shortcomings—but the differing individual interests and circumstances of particular European countries are what shapes their policies and explains the variation among them.
INDIA AND Germany pale beside France, the bête noire of American neoconservatives because of its occasionally disagreeable foreign policy. Despite the sophomoric jokes popular in these circles, France does share American values (yes, even though some of its citizens are rumored to vote for socialists!) and usually—but not always—shares American interests. Our common interests are manifest in the fact that France is a close and even essential partner in security issues, especially counter-terrorism. France is also America’s eighth-largest trading partner, which creates deep interdependencies in very sensitive areas, such as the leading role of Areva—the French nuclear power company—in selling nuclear-generated electricity in the United States. Needless to say, our commercial interests still often diverge, especially when Boeing and Airbus compete for new contracts.
Ironically, it is precisely the closeness of American relations with France that makes its differing perspectives so troubling for some: for those who believe that American values and interests are identical and universal, acknowledging that a country can share our values but not always our interests is anathema. So they generally attribute French differences with Washington to ignoble motives, often financially-driven ones, to try to distinguish our values. And they enjoy deriding France, often while downing its wine.
But acknowledging that a democracy like France can legitimately differ with the United States is the real key to a successful foreign policy that assertively defends U.S. interests while maintaining American global leadership. If Washington cannot have an honest difference of opinion with Paris, efforts at consensus on North Korea, Iran or other complex issues with Beijing or Moscow—which have quite different views about their obligations in domestic governance, not to mention differing global interests—are ultimately doomed.
Part of the problem is that even if countries share interests, they do not necessarily share the same set of priorities. The United States and the EU-3 share values and share an interest in a non-nuclear Iran. They also share an interest in continued stability in the greater Middle East region. But some in the United States give greater priority to stopping Iran from developing nuclear weapons than to maintaining stability in the region and are prepared to consider destabilizing military action. They may be right. However, few in the EU-3 would agree because they assign greater priority to stability, perhaps because they believe that a nuclear Iran could be managed at an acceptable cost. Even Iraq’s new democratic government, almost an American dependency, seems unlikely to support military action against its neighbor that could immediately and directly threaten its very existence. Telling these governments that they should support U.S. positions because as democracies they share our interests—a hallmark of the Clinton Administration’s foreign policy long before the Bush team came into office and adopted a similar approach—does not address the real issue.
WHETHER OR not America is able to assemble an alliance of democracies that are both willing to support U.S. policy and able to make substantial rather than symbolic contributions is debatable. What is not is that the process of doing so almost inevitably undermines our ability to work with non-democracies who do share common interests with the United States, both in the Middle East and around the world (including key powers like China and Russia).
Throughout the greater Middle East, the United States continues to rely on non-democratic governments for vital assistance in combating terrorism, cracking down on extremist movements and trying to advance the peace process. This is why President Bush—the same president who previously was so vocal in condemning earlier administrations for their cooperation with the region’s authoritarian governments—cited Egypt, Saudi Arabia and others as America’s partners in his 2007 State of the Union address. These countries can work with Washington precisely because they are insulated from popular pressure.
Public-opinion polling from the Middle East leaves no doubt that truly democratic governments in the region would find it very difficult to work closely with the United States or support many American initiatives. Some of the most recent elections in the region—such as those in Iraq and the Palestinian Authority—brought to power parties who differ fundamentally from the United States on important issues (though the American military presence in Iraq limits the impact there). The fact that Lebanon’s elections did not have a similar effect speaks more to the country’s unusual electoral arrangements, in which executive positions and legislative seats are allocated on a sectarian basis, than to majority opinion.
Looking at these realities, it is clear that the belief that absent American support for authoritarian leaders, grateful democratic revolutionaries would take over and embrace the U.S. agenda should have been put to rest when the Shah of Iran was overthrown in 1979. It should also be clear that many undemocratic governments in the region are far from being the worst plausible regimes in their countries. Furthermore, expecting current rulers in the region—including Mubarak of Egypt or Musharraf of Pakistan—to be enthusiastic allies even as we seek to remove them from office is extremely naive.
It is likewise naive at best to think that leaders in Russia, China or any other non-democratic government should not feel threatened by efforts to move U.S. bases and forces closer to their borders simply because America and its allies are democracies. Democratic peace theory—misused to provide intellectual justification for the aggressive democracy promotion of the Clinton and Bush Administrations—demonstrates clearly that democracies are just as likely to go to war as non-democracies when their opponent is an undemocratic state. The fact that President Bush has already justified one war on the basis of spreading the democratic faith—and his administration and its supporters have threatened others, in Iran and elsewhere—makes an alliance of democracies more rather than less worrying to those who are not part of the club.
Such sentiments have been especially damaging in relations with Russia, where mainstream opinion among elites holds that NATO enlargement and democracy-promotion efforts in neighboring countries represent an attempt to encircle the country with governments more friendly toward Washington than Moscow. This, in turn, has had a chilling effect on a variety of matters including intelligence cooperation and shared efforts to secure nuclear material.
THE UNITED States simply cannot succeed as an international leader, or even as leader of the smaller group we call the free world, without dealing more effectively with governments—whether democracies or non-democracies—that have interests and priorities different from our own. This does not mean making concessions. What it does mean is that understanding—as distinct from accepting or supporting—others’ approaches is a valuable tool in our own decision-making and helps America to get the most from others at the least cost over the longest period of time.
The potential consequences of U.S. failure to take such an approach could be shocking, and are largely unconsidered. Set aside Iraq, Iran, North Korea and even the War on Terror. Then imagine the world of 2041, when a provocative research paper by two Goldman Sachs analysts predicts that China’s GDP could surpass that of the United States. Now imagine that the United States uses the next 34 years pressuring, prodding and even intimidating its way to acceptance of U.S. international priorities without making any major accommodations to others. Through a deft divide-and-rule strategy, Washington manages, for a time, to block the emergence of a coalition of the resentful. China uses the time to continue domestic reforms and changes roughly as much as it has in the last 34 years, becoming substantially more prosperous and considerably freer but still not entirely open or democratic by our standards. Beijing simultaneously continues its current foreign policy, cautiously but steadily expanding its influence and avoiding serious confrontations with anyone, even as its military expands and modernizes. What would that world look like?
It could be a world in which many democratic states—especially, but by no means exclusively, in Asia—view China as a more attractive international leader than the United States. From the perspective of many world capitals, including in the Middle East, Africa and Latin America, such a China would have a compelling track record of economic development, serious military clout and a foreign policy that is relatively unthreatening with the exception of periodic efforts to block greater international recognition of Taiwan and harsh rhetoric to discourage its independence (if the issue has not been resolved in a mutually satisfactory way by that time). In view of present-day demographic trends, these countries could constitute an overwhelming majority of the global population. Present-day political trends already demonstrate clearly that China’s influence is steadily growing in these areas.
Imagine that on top of all of these developments, the next 34 years are a remarkable period in the expansion of democracy. Freedom House’s 2041 “Freedom in the World” report lists no nation as “not free” and the number of free countries steadily expand. How many of these new democracies will be as close and as important to the United States as France is today? If several are, we will be lucky. And how will France and other established European democracies have changed? Will demographic changes give a greater political role to European Muslims, with a corresponding influence on foreign policy decisions? How will America work with these old and new democracies, when their perspectives are different from our own and there are no politically convenient means to excuse our disagreements?
This vision of 2041 may be pure fantasy, but it is an unquestionable reality that very few foreign governments or publics are willing to deliver global leadership to the United States on a platter, even in 2007. Yet that leadership is extremely important to our country’s security and prosperity both now and in the future. Americans cannot afford to assume that U.S. leadership is unquestioned or to squander it through ill-conceived policies based on mistaken assumptions.
This should not be construed as an argument that the only way to maintain leadership is by giving in so frequently that the United States is unable to protect its fundamental interests. On the contrary, if America were more careful in not only understanding the priorities of others but defining its own—rather than trying to have everything, almost indiscriminately—many other governments would have a better sense of when it is really necessary for them to accommodate Washington. They would also find it easier to do so, as they would be able to demonstrate areas in which the United States had accommodated their priorities and to say that American requests for major concessions are relatively infrequent.
Neither should it be construed as an abandonment of efforts to promote democracy, which does indeed offer greater opportunities for peace and prosperity in the long run. On the contrary, it reflects the idea that a more evolutionary approach may well lead to more stable and enduring democracies—and less internal violence—than many of today’s sudden transitions. It also reflects the possibility that the ultimate success of American democracy promotion globally or in any particular country could have unintended consequences that we must take into account in advance.
However Americans decide to proceed, the United States will be unable even to win the support of other democracies if it is unable to understand and acknowledge the interests and priorities of others. At the same time, attempting to build an alliance of democracies could alienate everyone else in the process—with potentially devastating consequences for America now and in the future. If this and subsequent administrations fail to learn these lessons, it could become very lonely at the top.
Paul J. Saunders is executive director of the Nixon Center and associate publisher of The National Interest.