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Neoconservatism
and Foreign Policy
Charles Krauthammer
Fukuyama entitles his critique “The Neoconservative
Moment”, a play on my first exposition of this theory,
“The Unipolar Moment”, published in the Winter 1990/91
issue of Foreign Affairs.
His intent is to take down the entire
neoconservative edifice. His method is to offer a
“careful analysis” of “Krauthammer’s writings,
particularly his
aei speech”, because “his strategic thinking has
become emblematic of a school of thought”, that is,
neoconservatism.
What Fukuyama fails to understand is that there are two
major strains of neoconservative thinking on foreign
policy, not one. There is the democratic globalism
advocated by Blair and Bush and elaborated by such
thinkers as Robert Kagan and Bill Kristol. And there is
the democratic realism I have long advocated. Both are
“democratic” because they advocate the spread of
democracy as both an ends and a means of American
foreign policy. But one is “realism” because it rejects
the universalistic scope and high idealism of democratic
“globalism” and always requires geopolitical strategic
necessity as a condition for intervention. This is
hardly just a theoretical debate. It has very practical
consequences that were on stark display just half a
decade ago when there was a fundamental split among
conservatives on the question of intervention in the
Balkans. At the time, Kagan and Kristol (among many
others) were strong advocates of intervention in the
Balkans and of the war over Kosovo. I was not. I argued
then, as I argue now, that while humanitarian
considerations are necessary for any American
intervention, they are not sufficient. American
intervention must always be strategically grounded. And
that in the absence of a strategic imperative, it is
better to keep one’s powder dry, precisely because that
powder might be necessary to meet some coming strategic
threat. On 9/11, that strategic threat revealed itself.
At
the time of Kosovo, many realists took the same position
I did, while many democratic globalists (lazily just
called “neoconservatives”) took the opposite view and
criticized my reservations about intervention as a
betrayal of democratic principles.
Fukuyama’s essay does not just conflate these two
distinct foreign policy schools. He repeatedly
characterizes me as a champion of democratic globalism,
the school with which I explicitly take issue. (Thus:
“his [Krauthammer’s] own position that he defines as
‘democratic globalism’, a kind of muscular Wilsonianism—minus
international institutions.”) It is odd in the extreme
to write a long critique of a speech and monograph
entitled Democratic Realism and then precise that
critique thus: “Krauthammer’s democratic globalism
fails as a guiding principle of foreign policy and
creates more questions than answers” [emphasis added].
Perhaps
Fukuyama
believes that he alone has a proprietary right to the
word realism. Perhaps he believes that by
misrepresenting me as a globalist he can then identify
me with every twist and turn of the Blair and Bush
foreign policies.
One of the reasons I gave this speech is that I thought
the universalist bear-any-burden language of both Blair
and Bush to advance the global spread of democracy is
too open-ended and ambitious. The alternative I proposed
tries to restrain the idealistic universalism with the
realist consideration of strategic necessity. Hence the
central axiom of democratic realism:
We
will support democracy everywhere, but we will commit
blood and treasure only in places where there is a
strategic necessity—meaning, places central to the
larger war against the existential enemy, the enemy that
poses a global mortal threat to freedom.
Fukuyama finds this central axiom “less than helpful as
a guideline for U.S. intervention” because “it masks a
number of ambiguities.” He asks the following questions.
Does “global” here mean threats that transcend specific
regions, like radical Islamism or communism? Yes.
If
the enemy’s reach has to be global, then
North Korea
would be excluded from the definition of a “strategic”
threat.
Yes. North Korea is a discrete problem. The War on
Terror is not our only problem, no more than the Cold
War was our only problem in the second half of the 20th
century. There can be others, though they are of a
lesser order. North Korea is a remnant of an old
worldwide struggle that we have already won. North Korea
is not on a deliberate mission to spread Juche
communism around the globe or to destroy the United
States. Its mission is regime survival, with intimations
of threat to South Korea. Its ambitions do not extend
beyond that. Which is why it is a very different kind of
threat from the existential Arab/Islamist one we face,
and falls outside the central imperative. It needs to be
contained. But there is no imperative for its invasion,
overthrow and reconstruction—unless we find that, for
commercial and regime-sustaining reasons, it is selling
wmd to our
real existential enemy. Under these circumstances it
would be joining the global war on the other side.
Or
does “global” instead mean any mortal threat to freedom
around the globe?
Any serious threat to what was once known as the “free
world” as a whole is “global.” In the 1930s and 1940s,
that meant fascism. In the second half of the 20th
century, that meant communism. Today it means
Arab/Islamic radicalism.
Does the fact that an “enemy” poses a mortal threat to
another free country but not to us qualify it as our
“enemy?”
No.
Is
Hamas, an Islamist group which clearly poses an
existential threat to Israel, our enemy as well?
As
it defines itself today, as an enemy of
Israel,
no. Were it to join the war on the
United States,
then the answer would be yes.
Is
Syria?
Because of its hostility to Israel? No. To the extent,
however, that it allies itself with and supports the
jihadists in Iraq, it risks joining the enemy camp.
And if these are our enemies, why should we choose to
fight them in preference to threats to free countries
closer to home like the
farc or
eln, which
threaten democracy in Colombia, or Hugo Chavez in
Venezuela?
We
do not. See above.
What makes something “central” in this global war?
Whether a change in the political direction of a state
or territory will have an important, perhaps decisive,
effect in defeating Arab/Islamic radicalism. Afghanistan
meets that test. So does Iraq.
This piece has been
excerpted from the Fall 2004 issue of The National
Interest.
Updated 9/27/04 |