On June 6, we celebrated another anniversary of
D-Day. No matter how often I hear the stories about this great
endeavor, I never tire of them. I always want to hear more, to
understand how the men who stormed the beach that day found the
courage and strength to see them through their ordeal.
The
stories are indeed legion--and legendary.
Private Harry Parley tells one such story:
"As our boat touched sand and the ramp went down, I became a
visitor to hell." When Parley jumped off the
boat, he immediately sank. He said, "I was unable to come up. I
knew I was drowning and made a futile attempt to unbuckle the
flame-thrower harness." Historian Stephen Ambrose describes how a
buddy grabbed Parley's flame-thrower and pulled him forward to
where he could stand. Parley says, "Then slowly, half-drowned,
coughing water, and dragging my feet, I began to walk toward the
chaos ahead."
I
ask myself: What did it take to walk into that chaos?
And
there is the story of Captain Lawrence Madill of E Company. Ambrose
describes the scene on Omaha Beach: "Madill [whose arm had been
practically blown off] made it to the seawall, where he discovered
that one of his company mortars had also made it but had no
ammunition. He ran back to the beach to
pick up some rounds. As he was returning, he was hit by machine-gun
fire. Before he died, Madill gasped, `Senior noncom, take the men
off the beach.'"
Again, I ask: Where does such courage come
from?
There are many reasons why men are brave
in battle. But for the Americans on Omaha Beach 56 years ago, the
strong belief in the rightness of their cause was decisive. It was
decisive as a factor of morale, in the victory of the battle, and
ultimately in the U.S. victory in the war.
Private Robert Healey of the 149th Combat
Engineers describes walking along the beach after the battle:
Lying on the beach was a young soldier,
his arms outstretched. Near one of his hands, as if he had been
reading, was a pocketbook (what today would be called a paperback).
It was Our Hearts Were Young and Gay
by Cornelia Otis Skinner. This expressed the spirit of our ordeal.
Our hearts were young and gay because we thought we were immortal,
we believed we were doing a great thing, and we really believed in
the crusade which we hoped would liberate the world from the heel
of Nazism.
To
liberate the world from the heel of Nazism. That was America's
moral purpose, the virtue upon which we found the courage to enter
the chaos. It was our crusade.
Similarly, during the Cold War we sought
to save the world from communism. This was our crusade as well.
But
what is our crusade today? What is our moral purpose? Why must we
be militarily strong? Indeed, what virtue is there in remaining a
global power at all?
To
protect our own security, of course, is the easy answer to this
question. And it is not a wrong answer. Surely, we have the right
to protect ourselves. And our involvement in world affairs is
necessary to protect our own security.
But
this does not entirely answer the question. When should we
intervene militarily if our security is not directly threatened?
This was, after all, the question posed by the conflict in Kosovo.
It was raised in Somalia, Bosnia, and Haiti as well. And it is
raised today in Sierra Leone, Indonesia, and other places in the
world where humans are butchering each other. It was so much easier
to answer such questions when enemies--like Adolf Hitler and Josef
Stalin--not only threatened others with their evil ideologies and
their ruthless abuse of power, but threatened us as well.
THE MORAL FLAWS IN THE CLINTON
DOCTRINE
Bill
Clinton and other liberals believe they have the answer to the
question of what our moral purpose should be. They believe that
America should wield its mighty power for what they call
"humanitarian" purposes.
Some
call this idea the Clinton Doctrine.
Describing the U.S. operation in Kosovo,
President Bill Clinton said: "But never forget, if we can do this
here, and if we can then say to the people of the world, whether
you live in Africa, or Central Europe, or any other place, if
somebody comes after innocent civilians and tries to kill them en
masse because of their race, their ethnic background or their
religion, and it's within our power to stop it, we will stop it."
America's moral purpose, therefore, is not
merely to make the world safe for democracy, but also to stop mass
murder, racism, and ethnic conflicts and to remedy other social
ills. What is more, Clinton tells us that if we do not do these
things, we should be held culpable for their suffering. He tells us
that America would be less of a nation if we did not use our power
for compassionate purposes.
Now,
where have we heard this idea before: using state power for
compassionate purposes?
This
is, of course, the old creed of liberalism. But instead of applying
it merely to Americans, Clinton and other liberals want America to
apply it to the rest of the world. We are no longer merely trying
to spread democracy around the world. We are now trying to save the
peoples of the world from themselves.
Liberals used to decry the use of American
power because it was often deployed against leftist causes. Today,
liberals celebrate American power if it is used to promote leftist
(as it was in Haiti) or liberal (as it was in Somalia and Kosovo)
causes. Either way, it is the vaguely altruistic purposes of the
external cause, not the internal benefit to the U.S. national
interest, that is morally decisive for liberals. This is not new.
In fact, American liberals have always been uneasy with any foreign
policy that redounds solely to the benefit of the American
nation.
The
Clinton Doctrine has many flaws. It tends to overextend our
military forces. The missions are open-ended and poorly defined,
thus miring us in interminable conflicts.
But
I would like to explore today the moral flaws--the moral follies,
if you will--of the Clinton Doctrine.
Unintended Consequences
The first moral flaw is that the Clinton Doctrine violates the
law of unintended consequences. This is a common moral weakness of
liberalism. You can find it in any number of domestic policies,
from the harmful effects of liberal education policies in our
schools to the dependency culture created by welfare policies.
The
same applies to President Clinton's military interventions.
What
could be nobler than promising to sacrifice oneself for the sake of
protecting innocent people from slaughter?
But
the moral flaw is not in the intention; it is in what happens when
one attempts to act on that intention. Aristotle says that we must
measure the moral worth of an act not by its intention, but by its
consequences.
In
this sense, we should measure the moral worth of the intervention
in Kosovo not merely by whether it saved lives--in fact, it may
have cost even more lives--but by what it leads to in the future.
If, because our mission is unclear, we are drawn into actions and
causes of which we should disapprove--Albanian ethnic cleansing of
Serb areas comes to mind--then we will find indeed that our good
intentions are worthless.
Clinton says that we should intervene
"when it's in our power to stop" the killing. Well, it was within
our power to stop the mass murders in Rwanda, but we didn't. It was
within our power to stop the murders in Sierra Leone, but we didn't
do it. And if we were willing to risk a confrontation with Russia,
it is even in our power to stop the mass murders in Chechnya.
But
we do not. Why? Because in each case we calculated that the price
was too high or we had other priorities that were more important.
There is nothing wrong with these decisions.
But
it is hypocritical to proclaim the principle of humanitarian
intervention for Europe and not for Russia, Asia, or Africa. It may
even be racist.
It
will not do to argue that we should intervene merely because we
can. Clearly, capability is not the decisive factor. Otherwise, we
would have been intervening in Rwanda and other places.
Nor
will it do to argue that those who opposed interventions in the
Balkans are against interventions everywhere--that they are, in a
word, isolationists. This is what Secretary of State Madeleine
Albright tried to suggest when she argued that "just because you
can't act everywhere doesn't mean you don't act anywhere." No credible
opponent of the Kosovo intervention ever made the claim that they
opposed interventions everywhere. Albright is not answering the
critique, but merely dismissing a straw man.
The Tyranny of Sentimentality
The second moral flaw is that war is not the appropriate moral
means to express compassion.
Wars
can be just. They can even be glorious. But they are never humane.
We may justify doing all kinds of horrible things for self-defense
or to liberate a friend from tyranny. But we cannot and should not
pretend that war is a means to create utopia. That is the tragic
mistake made by many totalitarians in the 20th century.
The
mistake here is confusing sentiment with principle. Sentiment is an
emotionalized attitude, like patriotism. Patriotism by itself is
neither right nor wrong. It depends on the country and the
patriotic cause. American patriotism is good, in my estimation.
Serbian patriotism is not.
Principle is, by contrast, a rule of right
conduct based on reason. American patriotism is good because it
stands for such right principles as liberty, justice, and virtue.
These principles are grounded in reason and are best applied with
wisdom and prudence. Serbian patriotism is bad because it stands
for bigotry and ethnic hatred. The patriotic sentiments of Serbian
nationalists are grounded in emotion and hatred and often applied
with utter brutality.
This
distinction is instructive. It shows that what matters morally are
not sentiments and emotions, but principles and reasons. The
morally decisive element in deciding whether to engage in any
war--humanitarian or otherwise--should not be sentimentality, but
reason. The appeal to "do something" when faced with foreign
butchery evokes the sentiment of compassion. But as an emotion,
compassion per se can have no moral content whatsoever unless we
know what is to be done with it. I may have compassion for a
terminally ill relative, but if I were to shoot that relative to
relieve his misery, I would not be judged by most people to have
acted ethically.
The
same is true for military interventions. I may have compassion for
innocent civilians being butchered by some dictator, but it would
be morally questionable for me to retaliate by butchering other
civilians who happen to enjoy the favor of that dictator.
The
point is that compassion, like all sentiments, is morally
unreliable as a source of right conduct. Like patriotism, the
sentiment of compassion can be used or misused. To be ethically
sound, it must be grounded in a larger cause that reflects more
basic principles of liberty and justice--principles that cannot be
separated from virtue.
As a
nation, we have many means to express our compassion. We have the
charity of our people. We even have humanitarian aid sponsored by
the government. But we should not employ military force for this
purpose, reserving it instead for self-defense, the defense of our
vital national interests, and the liberation of deserving oppressed
peoples.
Ultimately, mismatching means and ends
causes the flaw of unintended consequences. Foreign countries are
beyond our sovereignty and out of reach of our laws. If we wish to
make them behave, we first have to bring them to heel.
But
people are not dogs. If we wish to bring them to heel, we must
apply the rules of war, not the laws of justice.
War
is the means of last resort. It is a means of self-defense and
liberation. It is not the appropriate means to perfect human nature
or to send signals about our moral sensibilities.
Indeed, in international affairs,
universal justice is not possible. The means to achieve it would
always destroy the very end they were supposed to serve. While I
can imagine a liberal democratic global order based on voluntary
association, I cannot imagine one coerced or forced on all peoples.
Besides, as Alexis de Tocqueville observed, democracy does not
guarantee liberty, not to mention justice or virtue. The point is
that our obligation to establish justice in the world is limited.
It is limited not only because it is not in our power to establish
universal justice for the entire world, but also because it would
be moral folly for us to try.
Moral Confusion
The Clinton Doctrine suffers from a third flaw: moral
confusion. It confuses the moral responsibilities of governments
and individuals. It assumes they are the same.
They
are not.
Friedrich Hayek wrote: "Justice, like
liberty and coercion, is a concept which, for the sake of clarity,
ought to be confined to the deliberate treatment of men by other
men."
The
responsibilities of a democratic or republican government are
different from those that govern our private lives. The state's
responsibility is to secure liberty so that I, as an individual,
have the freedom to act in a virtuous manner. If it tries to compel
me to act in a virtuous way, other than to respect the laws and
rights of others, then it will at some point violate my
conscience.
A
person is a moral being--he or she has free will, a conscience, and
even a soul. States are not moral beings. They lack these personal,
spiritual, and moral attributes. They may be agents speaking and
acting on behalf of people, but they should never be considered as
possessing moral sovereignty unto themselves. Conscience ultimately
must always be understood as an individual and private matter.
Otherwise, we may become powerless in the face of a state that
claims, in the fashion of Jean Jacques Rousseau's General Will, the
right to determine what is absolute morality.
It
is very dangerous indeed to blur the moral responsibilities and
interests of the state and the people. The story of totalitarianism
in the 20th century is rife with states and political causes that
failed to make this distinction.
Indeed, we should always remember that, in
America, the state does not have "interests." The American people
do.
To
preserve our liberty and our virtue, we must remain vigilant
against the pretense that the state is our conscience. Otherwise,
we lose individual responsibility for our own actions. And we lose
the moral grounds on which to challenge the state or any collective
action that violates our conscience.
A
Prodigal Foreign Policy
The fourth moral flaw of the Clinton Doctrine is what Aristotle
called "prodigality." This means being excessively generous or
liberal with one's possessions and resources. A prodigal person or
nation will inevitably become exhausted and turn to the wrong
sources or methods to continue its excess giving. When people do
this, they become, in Aristotle's words, "mean."
As
Aristotle says: "[The prodigal person] is not thought to have a bad
character; it is not the mark of a wicked or ignoble man to go to
excess in giving and not taking, but only a foolish one."
Promising to stop mass killings around the
world, therefore, is not "wicked or ignoble." But it is naïve,
and therefore foolish.
Everyone knows, including Clinton, that
America cannot possibly stop mass killings everywhere in the world.
We would bankrupt ourselves if we tried. What is worse, we would be
forced to use methods that would make us--in Aristotle's words--a
"mean" nation. We would have to become an international vigilante,
conducting the international equivalent of SWAT team raids against
sovereign nations to arrest criminals.
Over
time, we would have to employ greater draconian means to ferret out
the criminals. We would also have to adopt practices that would
belie our humanitarian intentions and contradict our "democratic"
values--measures such as inflicting civilian casualties in war and
tolerating the barbaric behavior of allies--as we have done and are
now doing in Kosovo.
All
of these measures may be justified in the service of liberty and
democracy. But can they be justified in the service of
humanitarianism?
I
think not. It would be like imprisoning someone in the name of
freedom or, as communists do, erecting dictatorships in the name of
democracy. It is positively Orwellian.
Again, the moral problem with prodigality
is not with the intention, but with the consequences of the
intention. Trying to stop genocide everywhere in the world as a
matter of principle would inevitably overextend America's
resources. At some point, we would be unable to protect adequately
not only other people, but even ourselves.
It
is telling that supporters of humanitarian wars never contradict
this point directly. It is good they do not, for the point is on
its face irrefutable. Instead, they sometimes dissemble, arguing
that they don't really mean what they say. Or they insist that the
United States is not overextended, and thus can afford such
operations. They may manufacture fake strategic interests as cover
for their humanitarian impulses. Other times, they sink into
name-calling and demagoguery, hinting darkly that opponents of
humanitarian wars are isolationists or heartless realists, or
both.
I
will not argue whether America now is or is not overextended
militarily. I happen to believe it is, but even if it was not, it
inevitably would become so if the humanitarian warriors had their
way. How could it be otherwise? If we take them at their word,
whereby America has a moral obligation to all of mankind, how can
we not take on all threats to the universal moral order? If, on the
other hand, we do not take them at their word--i.e., if they are
not serious and are merely engaging in a bit of disingenuous
demagoguery to mobilize opinion behind a particular military
operation--then they are guilty of dishonesty and hypocrisy.
This
will not do. Either way, their position is morally indefensible. No
American should be demanding that the United States be committed to
a limitless universal principle that will condemn it to decline and
possibly to defeat. And no American should be playing hypocritical
games with America's national mission by demanding something that
no one seriously believes will ever be accomplished.
VIRTUES VS. VALUES: THE MORAL PURPOSES OF
NATIONAL STRENGTH
You
may or may not agree with the Clinton Doctrine, but the President
at least realizes that power must have a moral purpose. Which
raises the question: What would the soldiers who stormed Omaha
Beach think of Clinton's view of America's moral purpose? Would it
give them the same courage to leave the Higgins boats and move
"into the chaos" on the beach?
I
think not. I believe the soldiers on Omaha Beach saw a virtue in
their cause that is missing in Kosovo and other Clintonian
interventions.
Virtue is defined as "moral excellence,"
or "doing what is right." Another definition given is "manly
strength, as in valor, and courage." Fortitude (moral courage) is
one of the four basic virtues in Greek philosophy. The others are
justice, prudence, and temperance. Throughout history, to be
good meant also to be strong.
Virtue, moreover, is a habit or trait
possessed by people, not institutions (like government). People
have free will to choose between good and evil. Institutions may
reflect the moral choices of people, but they have no free will or
moral life apart from the people they represent--they are not, to
use a Kantian phrase, "things in themselves." They are not moral
entities standing above and separately from the people.
America's Founding Fathers understood
virtue in this way. It was indispensable to liberty. They knew that
for America to be truly free, it also had to be a society made up
of virtuous people. Without virtue, liberty becomes mere
license--the desire to do what one wants when one wants. Without
virtuous people, government would lack responsibility and thus not
be able to sustain the conditions for liberty.
In
short, according to the Founders, I must be good to be truly free.
And I must be free to be truly good.
But
there is more to virtue than enabling us to enjoy our freedoms. It
also gives us the moral strength to sacrifice for our freedoms.
The
soldiers on Omaha Beach were willing to make their sacrifice
because they knew their cause was right. They knew they were
fighting for liberty and virtue. The America of the World War II
generation was a society in which virtue still mattered. Schools,
churches, and even government officials taught that with freedom
must come responsibility. Americans at that time did not think that
by liberating Europe they would eliminate all the evils of the
world. Nor did they see our involvement as act of compassion. But
they did believe that the American way of freedom, justice, and
virtue was something not only worth fighting for, but worth giving
to other peoples.
A
Cause Without Virtue
Contrast this with the cause in Kosovo. U.S. airmen who were
told that they were avenging the lives of innocent civilians were
forced to strafe Serbian bridges at an altitude of 15,000
feet--which is out of harm's way for the pilots, but which
practically ensures that innocent civilians will lose their lives.
Remember, "to stop the killing" was the ostensible main and urgent
reason for intervening in Kosovo.
Moreover, the people on whose behalf the
intervention was made--the Albanian Kosovars--today are trying
their level best to conduct an ethnic cleansing of the Serbs in
Kosovo. The day of the average American GI is spent either keeping
both sides from slitting each other's throats or performing social
work services like settling neighborhood disputes or delivering
fresh food and water.
There is scant virtue in this cause. There
is no "moral excellence" in killing innocent civilians in the name
of humanitarianism. And we cannot really say that our police work
in the Balkans is about spreading the blessings of liberty. If it
were, our primary aim would be to overthrow Milosevic and his
henchmen at all costs.
But
it would be a mistake to conclude that the GIs in Kosovo believe
that their cause is unjust. They may not be very clear on what
their cause is--other than to keep people from butchering one
another--but their president has told them that they are performing
a humanitarian mission, and they are inclined to believe him.
Indeed, it is true that U.S. and NATO
forces are now preventing people from butchering each other.
Indeed, it is also true that they are enforcing a kind of peace
that may not exist without them. The U.S. forces understandably and
rightly feel obligated to see through to the end the job they
started.
But
these GIs also have a nagging feeling that if their cause is not
wrong, it somehow is not right either--at least not "right" in the
sense of what armies are supposed to do. Reports from Kosovo show
that our troops are becoming demoralized because of the confused
and aimless purposes of the mission.
Well, something indeed is very wrong. And
the soldiers are right to sense it. The mission is not merely
poorly conceived as a military enterprise. It also represents a
world view that any American soldier would sense as being
problematic, if not morally compromising, in a military
context.
The
world view they sense is one not based on virtue, as it has
historically been understood by generations of Americans, but on
"values"--or more accurately, on what liberals nowadays define as
values. The favorite values of modern liberalism are state-enforced
compassion (defined as the sentiment justifying state action on
behalf of aggrieved and ideologically favored groups),
"multiculturalism," "diversity," and "inclusiveness." Each of
these ideas has its own special meaning, but behind all of them is
a strange paradox: The supreme "value" is that all values are
ethically relative, and thus without intrinsic value.
Virtues are, by contrast, all about things
that are or should be intrinsically valued. Virtues are about right
and wrong; values are about choices. Virtue demands sacrifice;
values offer rights. According to "values-think," I have no right
to deny someone their values, not because they are wrong, but
because I would be violating their right to choose. Such, today, is
the definition of freedom.
Generally, virtues are always good and
right. Values can be evil and wrong. George Will observed recently:
"Hitler had scads of values. George Washington had virtues. Who
among those who knew him would have spoke of Washington's
`values'?"
Values per se are not worth dying for. The
right values--or better yet, virtues or virtuous causes--are worth
dying for.
Clinton's interventions in Haiti, Bosnia,
and Kosovo were not about virtue, and thus, plausibly at least, not
worth dying for. They were about values--particularly about the
liberal values of state-enforced compassion, multiculturalism,
diversity, equal rights, and inclusiveness. In addition to serving
the mission of compassion, Clinton's team saw the Kosovo
intervention in terms of spreading the liberal faith in the power
of the state to socially engineer (the current fashionable term is
"fix") a solution to the political and social problems of the
Balkans.
Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, for
example, claimed that "ending ethnic strife" and creating
"multiethnic societies" in the Balkans were "essential to the goal
President Clinton had...of a Europe that is undivided, whole and
free."
This
sentiment echoed President Clinton's remarks during the Kosovo
conflict, which drew a parallel between Serb butchery of innocent
people and what he calls "hate crimes" in America. As the President
said, "When someone dies in a horrible incident in America, or when
we see slaughter or ethnic cleansings abroad, we should remember
that we defeat these things by teaching and by practicing a
different way of life, and by reacting vigorously when they occur
in our own midst."
Thus, to the President, extending U.S.
military protection to the Albanian Kosovars was on par with
expanding the list of federally protected groups to include
homosexuals.
The
Clinton-Albright Balkan project, then, goes far beyond the cause of
spreading democracy and liberty. In fact, it may be said to relate
to these causes only indirectly, if at all. Instead, the President
and his team want above all to create a multicultural society in
the Balkans. Creating a multiethnic society was President Clinton's
mantra in the Bosnian settlement, and it is present in Kosovo as
well. As Madeleine Albright said in her recent remarks to the
ministerial meeting of the North Atlantic Council in Italy: "Our
goal in Bosnia remains a unified, multiethnic state in which
all
citizens can live safely." Indeed, as Vice President
Al Gore says, the starting point in Kosovo is that "there must be a
genuine recognition of and respect for difference...[and] then...a
transcendence of difference."
This
is the equal rights agenda with a vengeance. Enforcing the equality
of differences in race, ethnicity, gender, and sexual orientation
has become the summum bonum of contemporary liberalism. With
respect to ethnicity and cultural differences, it now has become
not merely NATO policy, but when the going gets tough, a war
aim.
But
here lies a terrible trap for NATO, the United Nations, and the
United States. Democracy and the goal of creating a multiethnic
society are in conflict in Bosnia and Kosovo. NATO and U.N.
authorities know that democratic elections in Kosovo will likely
produce extremist results on both sides. In fact, Kosovar Serbs,
under orders from Belgrade, are threatening to boycott the
municipal elections in October. Now Bernard Kouchner, the
United Nations administrator in Kosovo, is reportedly saying that
it does not matter; the elections will be held with or without the
Serbs.
Currently, Kouchner expects the elections to occur in October.
But
the election results cannot be fully legitimate without the Serbs.
If the Serbs persist with their boycott, the choice for Kouchner
will be either to accept unrepresentative elections or to postpone
them. Either way, the democratic process is a sham. In Kosovo,
democratic elections under the current conditions will not solve
the ethnic/cultural problems. It will merely exacerbate them.
Kouchner and others hope that democracy
will be an eventual byproduct of a multiethnic society. But this
will never happen, because the principles are backwards: A truly
multiethnic society can emerge only from a democratic society, not
the other way around. If the people decide to live together
peaceably, it will be because they freely choose to do so. If they
decide not to live together peaceably, it is undemocratic to force
them to do so.
Woodrow Wilson understood this, which is
why he accepted partition as a consequence of self-determination.
What mattered most was democracy, not multiethnic harmony. By
insisting that their goal is multiethnicity, NATO, the United
Nations, and the United States have established conditions that
make real democracy (and possibly peace as well) in the Balkans
nearly impossible to achieve.
Democracy, liberty, and the rule of law
may one day come to the Balkans, but not as a result of NATO
peacekeepers and United Nations bureaucrats trying to impose a
multicultural project on the people there. Rather, they will come
when Slobodan Milosevic and his like-minded henchmen no longer rule
Serbia, and when the Balkan people are ready to accept a political
formula to live together under democratic rule.
There is indeed a huge difference between
"fixing" countries and giving them liberty. Really fixing the
Balkans--helping them establish the democratic institutions to
guarantee their liberties--would take a great deal more than a few
thousand peacekeepers and billions of dollars of aid wasted on
poorly managed U.N. programs. It would, at the very least, require
the immediate removal of Milosevic from power, the forcible
installation of a friendly Serbian government, and the military
occupation of Serbia. And it would require draconian
occupation-like policies in Kosovo and Bosnia.
After all this had been done, over time
people might adjust. But as matters now stand, they will cling to
their hatreds and grievances, waiting for the next opportunity to
settle centuries-old scores.
I am
not recommending a draconian course of action, but at least it
would have the courage of conviction. It would, in this sense, be a
cause with a clearly definable and virtuous end--the establishment
of democracy and liberty in the Balkans--that could justify the
massive loss of life that would be required to achieve it in a
military campaign.
That
was, after all, the nature of the cause of D-Day. That was, if you
will, its moral character.
Our
national causes should always have character. Like individuals,
they should be virtuous. It is their virtue that morally sanctifies
the sacrifice required to achieve them. And it is their character,
which I define as "virtue in action," that makes them great.
The
Clinton Doctrine is a moral failure because it lacks character. It
fails not merely because it is naïve and hypocritical, or
because it sets up goals it cannot possibly attain. Rather, it
fails because it assumes that late 20th century liberalism can be
substituted for the causes that made America historically great. It
lacks, in short, a proper appreciation of virtue and liberty in the
making of the American cause.
The
American cause the GIs in Normandy gave their lives to achieve had
real character. Their cause was liberty, not multiculturalism. It
celebrated virtue, not diversity. It aimed to free the world of
tyranny. It did not pretend to end all injustice or create some
utopian world.
This
is the main difference between then and now. And it is the
difference between the great cause of World War II and the meager
causes underlying Bill Clinton's wars.
"BIG STICK" HUMANITARIANISM
Not
all conservatives think that the Clinton Doctrine fails because it
has the wrong goals. Some conservatives, in fact, wholly embrace
its humanitarian goals. Their only criticism is
that President Clinton does not go far enough. Believing that he
still suffers from an old-left prejudice against American
patriotism, these conservatives think that the President and other
liberals should shed their shyness about American power and use
whatever means are necessary to take up, as Adam Wolfson says,
"humanity's cause...as a matter of national honor." Harking
back to Theodore Roosevelt's foreign policy, they believe America
should carry a "big stick" in the service of the humanitarian
cause.
These conservatives are trying to overcome
what is the central weakness of liberal humanitarianism: the wild
mismatch of means and ends. They fully realize the ambivalence in
the heart of liberals who claim they want to convert war to
humanitarian purposes. They rightly sense that liberals lack the
courage of their convictions. These conservatives want to be
tough-minded versions of their liberal brethren, willing to do what
is necessary to get the job done.
However right the conservative
humanitarians are to doubt the mettle of liberals, they are wrong
to think that being tough-minded will make things right. Being
tough-minded in service of a flawed cause does not make the cause
any less flawed. In fact, it may make it even more so. Conservative
humanitarians fail to appreciate that no amount of American power
could possibly achieve their stated goal of taking up "humanity's
cause" (whatever that may be). In fact, far more than for liberals,
the conservative humanitarian's case suffers from the flaws of
prodigality--the upward spiral of willing ever-greater resources to
support a generous cause, which eventually either collapses out of
exhaustion, flies off into wild hypocrisy, or converts into a mean
neo-imperialism that contradicts the cause it set out to
champion.
If
we were to take "big stick" humanitarianism seriously, America
would be locked in perpetual warfare, leading to overstretch of its
forces. If its supporters believe otherwise--that, in fact, warring
for humanity's cause would not be all that taxing--then we may
rightly doubt the seriousness of their convictions, as they do
those of their liberal brethren. Faced with the contradiction
between a utopian vision and the reality of limited power, they may
find it necessary, as liberals have done, to dissemble on the
actual circumstances under which they would translate their grand
vision into reality.
These conservatives are attaching their
wagon--not to mention the future of American power--to what is
essentially a liberal project. But simply wedding American
patriotism to humanitarianism will not solve any of the moral
contradictions of the Clinton Doctrine.
What
makes American patriotism "good" is not the de facto exercise of
American power, but the virtuous cause of securing liberty for our
children and spreading the blessings of liberty to others. This is
a very concrete cause grounded in America's history and tradition.
It is, by its very nature, a self-limiting cause--one that is
sensitive not only to the limits of U.S. military power, but also
to the political nature of the foreign causes America embraces. It
is sorely misguided to substitute the modern liberal value of
government-enforced humanitarianism--frittering away America's
military superiority on faraway causes that are not in the U.S.
national interest--for the glorious conservative causes of liberty
and justice that were so important to the heroes of D-Day.
What
is particularly worrisome is that conservative humanitarians do not
appreciate the liberal roots of their philosophy. They have a
rather expansive view of the role of the state in enforcing values
on people. As a result, they fail to make the proper distinction
between the responsibilities of the government and those of the
people--which, of course, is the classic mistake of modern
liberalism. Do they not realize the similarities in logic between
the humanitarian warfare doctrine and the standard liberal creed of
using state power for social engineering? Surely, if it is
appropriate to use airstrikes to create a multicultural society in
the Balkans, it would be morally inconsistent to quibble about the
constitutionality of the U.S. government's using draconian means to
enforce ethnic and other kinds of equality within the United
States.
It
makes no difference that conservative humanitarians are talking
about foreign policy rather than domestic policy, because the issue
is not national defense but using military power to enforce social
change. Indeed, the entire purpose of humanitarian wars is to use
force to solve foreign social and cultural problems as if they were
domestic issues. The state's role can be expanded greatly in the
service of national defense, as it rightly was during the Cold War,
but it is problematic indeed when its military arm is expanded in
the service of causes that are largely social in nature.
NATIONAL CHARACTER AND OUR OBLIGATIONS TO
OTHER NATIONS
So
what, then, is our moral responsibility to other peoples? To what
moral purpose should we use our strength, beyond defending our own
security?
I
believe our moral purpose in the world today is not radically
different from what it was during World War II. Our goal is to
secure the blessings of liberty first for our own people and, so
long as it is consistent with that goal, to help others secure the
blessings of liberty for themselves.
To
the extent that we can, we should help nations adopt democratic
institutions that safeguard liberties. We cannot do this
everywhere, but we can and should do it in regions like Europe,
Eurasia, East Asia, Latin America, and the Middle East where we not
only have vital interests, but where evil forces could endanger the
cause of liberty throughout the entire world.
We
cannot guarantee liberty everywhere. We have our own security to
worry about, and to the extent that we help others to enjoy the
blessings of liberty, we must do so with the clear understanding
that helping them must also be a means of helping ourselves.
It
will not do to pretend that the American world project is one of
simple altruism. This would be not only naïve, but dangerously
hypocritical.
Our
strategic goal should be to maintain a global balance of power in
favor of liberty and democracy. This means that our armed forces
must be stronger than they currently are. We must keep our military
alliances strong and on occasion expand them. We must make good on
our military commitments to friends and allies. We must protect our
own people from missile attack. And we must spread economic freedom
to create greater global prosperity.
And,
yes, we must intervene in places like the Balkans if we deem it in
our national interest and if we conduct ourselves in such a way as
to promote the cause of liberty.
But
to achieve these strategic objectives, we must be clear about our
moral purpose in the world. Otherwise, we will always be
miscalculating our means and ends--either doing too much for
half-hearted causes, as we did in the Balkans and Haiti, or doing
too little for serious problems like deterring China and rogue
states.
We
need an inspiring and coherent vision of America's role in the
world--one rooted not in
fashionable slogans, but in our history and our
traditions. Slogans are not visions. Neither are sentiments. Either
we take seriously the need to understand our traditions, or we will
be condemned not only to lose them, but possibly to perish as a
great nation.
CONCLUSION
Throughout American history, people who
had the courage to be free made this country great. Whether it is
settling the West or storming the beaches of Normandy, Americans
accomplish great things when they are spreading or fighting for
liberty. Their faith in the rightness of their cause gives them the
courage to make great sacrifices.
Like
the Founding Fathers, the World War II generation believed that
sacrifice was a republican virtue. They believed it was
indispensable to secure the blessings of liberty not only for us,
but also for other peoples.
This
willingness to sacrifice for liberty and virtue was--and still
is--the source of our greatness as a nation.
It
is the moral source of our strength.
It
is the vision that inspired Captain Madill and other GIs on D-Day
to perform such extraordinary acts of heroism.
And
it will surely inspire future American heroes who storm other
beaches in the defense of liberty.
Kim R.
Holmes, Ph.D., is Vice President of Foreign and Defense
Policy Studies and Director of the Kathryn and Shelby Cullom Davis
Institute for International Studies at The Heritage Foundation.
This paper is an expanded version of a lecture given to members of
The Heritage Foundation on June 17, 2000.