The
Sun Sets on American Empire
The
Short American Century: A Post-Mortem
7
November, 2012
Throughout
the campaign season, Mitt Romney and Barack Obama alike insisted that
the 21st century must be another American century—that the U.S.
should continue to be the world’s predominant military, economic,
and political power for generations to come. After ten years of
shattered hegemonic dreams, leaders of both parties still feel
compelled to declare their loyalty to the vision that inspired the
follies of the Bush era. Foreign-policy debate continues to turn on
the question of how to preserve American hegemony, rather than how to
secure U.S. interests once America is no longer so dominant. What
nobody in Washington can acknowledge is the subject that this book
addresses: the American Century, to the extent that it ever was real,
is now definitely at an end.
Henry
Luce famously coined the phrase in a 1941 issue of Life. He declared
that America’s role was to “exert upon the world the full impact
of our influence for such purposes as we see fit by such means as we
see fit.” As Luce imagined it, that influence would extend to
economic and cultural dominance as well as political. His missionary
vision took for granted that America had not only the right but the
obligation to propagate its values and exercise leadership throughout
the world. Seventy years later, Luce’s idea is still part of
Washington’s bipartisan consensus, but in recent years it has
collided with the practical limits of American power.
As
editor Andrew Bacevich explains in his introductory remarks, the
purpose of the essays assembled in this volume is not “to decry or
to mourn the passing of the Short American Century (much less to
promote it resurrection) but to assess its significance.” Each
chapter is a study of different aspects of this era of American
preeminence, reflecting on matters of race, consumerism, and
globalization, as well as reviewing the history of the last 70 years
with special attention to the critics of U.S. policies abroad. Though
often sharply critical of the moral and political failings of this
epoch, the contributors—a distinguished collection of historians
and international-relations scholars—are also judicious in their
interpretations. The book aspires to be much more than a series of
polemics, and it is very successful.
If
the American Century is at an end and the contributors are performing
a postmortem, what do they identify as the patient’s cause of
death? One answer is that American economic and political strength
have been abused and run down through mismanagement. As Emily
Rosenberg discusses in her chapter on consumerism, America’s
culture of mass consumption cultivated habits that have sapped
American wealth and power through the accumulation of enormous
private and public debt, while the spread of the consumerist ethos
around the world has further eroded America’s earlier economic
advantages.
American
economic and political strength are also victims of the American
Century’s own successes. As Jeffry Frieden explains in his chapter
on globalization, the success of the United States in leading the
rebuilding of the global economy in the wake of World War II produced
a competitive economic order that has hastened the end of American
preeminence. Viewed this way, the American Century ended because it
is no longer needed. Likewise, Akira Iriye argues that the world has
become so integrated economically and culturally that the global
order that is replacing the U.S.-led one will not be dominated by any
one nation.
Proponents
of continued U.S. hegemony sometimes attempt to scare Americans with
visions of a world led by Russia or China, but what comes after the
American Century will be nothing like that. According to Iriye, “it
will not be a Chinese century or an Indian century or a Brazilian
century. It will be a long transnational century.” This is a useful
reminder that it is extremely unusual for any one nation to be
hegemon over the globe, and it is not something that will be quickly
or easily repeated.
While
this book is a “dissenter’s guide” to the period of “putative
American dominion,” the contributors’ judgments of the American
Century are not always negative. At least one, David Kennedy, sees
its early conclusion as the result of a disastrous departure from the
postwar American legacy abroad during the Bush administration.
Kennedy is offended that the Bush administration “trashed” the
achievements of presidents Wilson, Roosevelt, and Truman and weakened
some of the major international institutions created after World War
II. Instead of seeing the Bush era as the logical conclusion of
decades of American triumphalism, Kennedy views it as a betrayal of
the creators of the American Century.
At
the other end of the spectrum, Walter LaFeber dismisses the idea of
an American Century as a fantasy, a “dream” that Luce “conjured
up in order to persuade” Americans to go to war. As LaFeber sees
it, the pretensions to an American Century were exploded by the
postwar division of Europe and the Cold War and have been mocked once
again by the recent failures of the “freedom agenda.” Yet he
concludes on the grim note that this fantasy will continue to distort
U.S. foreign policy for the foreseeable future, as long as Americans
ignore its consequences.
Pragmatic
realists have been among the strongest critics of America’s abuses
of its power abroad. T.J. Jackson Lears recounts the evolving views
of George Kennan, Walter Lippmann, Reinhold Niebuhr, and Sen. William
Fulbright in his study of the pragmatic realist tradition in the 20th
century. Lears traces the tradition back to its anti-imperialist
roots in the thought of William James, who was among the foremost
opponents of American expansion overseas at the turn of the last
century, especially the annexation of the Philippines. James’s
respect for pluralism informed his hostility to any political project
aimed at denying the self-determination of other nations, and his
pragmatism led him to prefer the instruction of experience over the
abstractions used to agitate for war.
The
careers of Kennan and Niebuhr best reflect the tensions in this
tradition between accepting a significant American political and
military role abroad and recoiling from abuses of power, ideological
enthusiasm, and the militarization of foreign policy. Lears says of
Niebuhr and his support for U.S. entry into World War II that the
“Jamesian tradition might be anti-imperial but not necessarily
anti-interventionist—if this interventionist argument was grounded
in a convincing assessment of consequences.” It was in response to
the consequences of abuses of the containment doctrine Kennan had
defined that he became what Lears calls “a prophet of
discriminating restraint,” as he showed in his criticism of the
superpowers’ nuclear arms build-up and in his opposition to the
Vietnam War. Although Niebuhr recognized the need for U.S.
involvement in World War II, the theologian was appalled by Luce’s
call for an “American Century,” which he dismissed as a new
“white man’s burden.”
Politicians
still use the phrase “American Century” as shorthand for U.S.
global preeminence, and there continue to be demands for a new one.
The neoconservative Project for a New American Century—which
disbanded in 2006 only to be reorganized as the Foreign Policy
Initiative in 2009—is one well-known example, but it would be wrong
to see a fixation on another American Century as something confined
to that faction of the Republican Party. The dream of perpetual power
is based on much more widely shared assumptions that America is not
subject to the same limitations that have constrained all other great
powers in the past.
Calls
for another American Century are closely linked to an emphasis on a
peculiar, distorted understanding of American exceptionalism. At
their best, recent references to this idea have been expressions of
respect for America’s tradition of constitutional government, but
more typically they have been little more than appeals to what was
once called “national greatness conservatism,” which defines
America’s worth in terms of its commitment to global hegemony and
military supremacy. Just as often, these references have been clumsy
appeals to a form of American nationalism in which the country is
conceived of as an ideological project. When proponents of continued
U.S. hegemony invoke American exceptionalism, it is usually an idea
of America as a crusading power regularly interfering in the affairs
of other nations that they have in mind.
Rejecting
the ambitions of the American Century is to some extent “to concede
that American Exceptionalism is an illusion or an outright fraud,”
as Bacevich says in the concluding chapter. As long as most Americans
imagine that there is a necessary link between our country’s unique
and admirable qualities and an activist, hegemonic role around the
world, the fantasy will persist that the American Century has never
ended and can continue indefinitely. The last 70 years have been a
transformative time in our history, but they do not define the whole
of the American experience, nor should we mistake America’s role
during this period for our country’s natural or destined role. The
Short American Century serves as a timely and necessary corrective to
the illusion that American global pre-eminence is unending, an empire
to last, if not a thousand years, at least another hundred.
Daniel
Larison is a TAC senior editor. His blog is
www.theamericanconservative.com/Larison.
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