1999 (51 page)

These practical men were motivated by what can only be described as a mystical faith in what they had created. It cannot be found in the words of the document, but they believed they were building not just for themselves but for others, not just for their nation but for other nations, not just for their time but for all time. They were not so presumptuous as to think of America as a world power, but they believed they were participating in a cause far greater than themselves.

They were not soft-headed do-gooders, but they believed in moral and spiritual values. They would have been appalled by the philosophy that seems so dominant in the capitalist world today—when so many seem motivated only by selfish, secular, materialist values and for whom the only god is money. They were conservatives, but their conservatism was leavened with compassion.

They wanted America to be not just a great country, but a good country. They were passionately patriotic, but they knew that patriotism, literally interpreted, means love of country. They wanted their country to be worthy of love.

To understand America's role in the future, we must first understand what America has meant to the world in the past. We
have not been just another country on the world scene. We have been at the center of the revolutionary progress in man's material condition and have often been a decisive influence in the great political and military struggles of recent times. But we have been more than that. We have also been an ideological beacon—the physical embodiment of a unique philosophy of the relationship between the individual, society, and the state.

At the beginning of the twentieth century, America was not a world power. Economically, we were behind Britain and Germany in relative terms. Militarily, we were not even in the picture. While the great fleets of the imperial powers ruled the seas, we had only recently succeeded in sending a small flotilla around the world—and our land forces were even weaker than our navy. Politically, we were following a policy of deliberately avoiding involvement in the snits and quarrels of the Old World.

At the same time, the ideals that animated the American system carried a profound effect. They gave us boundless optimism about the promise we held out to the world. From the time of our national independence, Americans have believed that we represent ideals that are bigger than ourselves. Thomas Jefferson said, “We act not just for ourselves but for all mankind.” Abraham Lincoln spoke of America as the “last, best hope of earth.” Albert Beveridge spoke lyrically of America's “manifest destiny.” Woodrow Wilson said, “A patriotic American is never so proud of his flag as when it comes to mean to others as to himself a symbol of liberty.”

All these statements were made
before
the United States became an authentic world power. We believed deeply in the principles for which we stood. Our influence stemmed not from our military or economic power but from the enormous appeal that our ideals and their success had in the rest of the world. We were the only great power in history to make its entrance on the world stage not by the force of arms but by the force of its ideas.

In the course of this century, we have stayed true to our ideals. We have been a force for good in the world. We sought to temper the vindictive peace of the Treaty of Versailles. We were a decisive factor in preventing Hitler from making good on his promise of a thousand-year Reich. We have tried to hold the line on Soviet expansionism in Europe and Asia. We have certainly made mistakes
in trying to uphold our ideals. But American idealism—sometimes naive, sometimes misguided, sometimes overzealous—has always been at the center of our foreign policy. One of our greatest strengths and greatest weaknesses as a world power has been the fact that we have never learned to act with the cold cynicism of Old World
Realpolitik.

After his Kitchen Debate with me in Moscow in 1959, Khrushchev tried to demonstrate his flexibility as compared with his doctrinaire colleagues. Pointing to his Vice Premier, he said contemptuously, “Comrade Koslov is a hopeless communist.” Khrushchev was ribbing Koslov for his dedicated idealism. In a sense, Americans have always been Koslovs. They have been dedicated idealists in their approach to the world but, unlike Koslov, not dedicated to foisting their ideals on the world. This has been to our credit. For Americans, a foreign policy must not be justified only on the ground that it serves our interests. It must also be consistent with our ideals. In a deeper sense, our interests are served only when we believe that what we do is right.

We stayed our course despite the sweeping changes that transformed the world in this century. In 1899 no one could have predicted this century's unprecedented material progress which has improved living conditions everywhere, with even the poor now enjoying better food, better housing, better health care, and a longer life span. No one could have predicted that man would smash the atom, explore space, and invent the computer. No one could have predicted that over one hundred million people would lose their lives in two world wars and more than a hundred smaller wars. No one could have predicted that the United States and the Soviet Union would replace Britain, France, and Germany as the principal world powers, that the European empires would collapse, or that totalitarian communism would rule 35 percent of the world's population.

As great as these changes have been, they will seem insignificant by comparison to those coming in the twenty-first century. It is therefore imperative that we decide today what role America should play in the future.

Our potential seems unlimited. We are the strongest and the richest country in the world. We can project our military power around the world, and we can influence all the great political issues of our time. Our culture, our ideas, and our economic and political systems have greater international appeal than ever before. It is no exaggeration to state that if allowed, hundreds of millions of people from around the world would emigrate to the United States.

But ironically, a new negativism afflicts America today. A growing chorus of pundits, professors, and politicians speak of the decline of American economic power and political leadership. They say that we have seen the end of the American century. They argue that American civilization has peaked and now faces an irreversible decline. They point out all around us the symptoms of decline—the problem of drug addiction among our young people, the crisis in education, the call for protectionism, and the appeal of isolationism. Brazil even beat us in basketball!

Are the new negativists correct? Does all this prove America's greatest days are behind us? Those who propound the new negativism will prove correct only if we permit their pessimism to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Unlike the Marxists, we do not subscribe to a determinist view of history. We know we have a choice to make. We have the resources, the power, and the capacity to continue to act as a world leader. We can be a force for good in the twenty-first century. But there is still one unanswered question: Do we have the national will to play that role?

The new negativists argue that American national will power has collapsed. After his famous seance with his advisers at Camp David, President Carter declared that the United States was suffering from a deep-seated malaise. He was right in identifying a problem. But he was wrong in arguing that the malaise afflicted the American people. In fact it was a deadly virus which had infected the American leadership class. The same is true of the new negativism. The American people are not defeatist. They will respond to strong, responsible leadership. The problem has been that our leader class has failed to provide it.

If Moscow ever wins the U.S.–Soviet rivalry, the reason will be the failure of the American leadership class. As Robert Nisbet wrote, “We appear to be living in yet another age in which 'failure
of nerve' is conspicuous; not in the minds of America's majority but in the minds of those who are gatekeepers for ideas and intellectuals.” In the last forty years, the upper crust of America in terms of education, money, and power has lost its sense of direction in the world. It has become enamored of every intellectual fad that has caught its attention. Disarmament and pacifism are today's rage, and that could have a disastrous impact on the fate of the West. If our society's decision-makers and those who influence them lose the will to lead, there is a great danger that America's majority might not be able to reverse the slide to defeat.

President Reagan has proved how potent strong leadership can be. Despite the almost universal opposition of those who call themselves the brightest and the best, he won overwhelming victories in 1980 and 1984. He did so because he called on Americans to turn away from the negativism and isolationism of the 1970s and to move forward into a new era of opportunity at home and leadership abroad. The merits of the Reagan administration's domestic and foreign policies are fair subjects for debate. But no one can deny that President Reagan's buoyant and confident style has restored Americans' can-do spirit. While the Iran-contra affair tarnished the Reagan presidency, one of his major legacies will be that the spirit of the American people will be far better when he leaves office than it was when he entered it.

Yet there are those both on the right and on the left who ask why the United States should play a role on the world stage when we have so many urgent problems at home. Many were disillusioned by our failure in Vietnam. Others have despaired at the sight of corrupt leaders in developing countries wasting billions of dollars in American aid on graft and government boondoggles. And they have been outraged to hear those same leaders berate us at the United Nations. Critics on the right think the United States is too good to sully itself with the grimy politics of the world; critics on the left think the United States is not good enough to be able to contribute anything to the world. These old and new isolationists seek to shift to the Europeans and the Japanese, whose economies
have long since recovered from the devastation of World War II, the primary burden of world leadership.

In addressing the future world role of the United States, we need historical perspective. At the beginning of this century, it did not matter whether America played a world role or not. Others who shared our values could do so. As we approach the beginning of the next century, that is no longer true. It is absolutely vital for America to play a major role. If the United States withdraws into a new isolationism, there is no other power that shares our values and possesses the resources and the will to take our place. At the same time, we can be sure that another power hostile to our values and interests, the Soviet Union, will do so.

If we pull back, we will turn over to Moscow the role of undisputed leadership; we will have made the world safe for Soviet domination and expansionism; we will see the rapid demise of peace and freedom, and the dawn of the twenty-first century will open a new age of barbarism on a global scale. If we pull back, we will eventually find that we have become an island in a red sea. We will have peace. But it will be the peace of retreat and defeat.