That said, one thing the world knows by now is that presidents learn on the job. George W. Bush in office wasn’t what the British political establishment expected, though the British intelligentsia (quite a different thing) has acted as though he were. Bush Mark I decried nation-building and peacemaking in favor of missile shields and a safe interpretation of national interests. The Republicans’ headier interventionists were kept under kind–but strict–supervision in a safe ward near the back of the hospital. Then along came September 11.
The world had seen this before. By the time Bill Clinton left office he had metamorphosed into a Mark IV foreign-policy model, making peace and building nations as though he were de facto secretary-general of the United Nations. Which, of course, is what the president of the United States often is.
Even so, it was possible that, in the post-9/11 period, the Republicans would become isolationists. No–they would become super-isolationists, venturing from the angry citadel only to drop bombs or impose unilateral sanctions, and then returning, leaving the roiling, boiling world behind. Such was the nightmare of many; a sort of post-Somalia America, cubed. The reality was utterly different.
Now the world has to deal with the possibility that–come January 2005–there could be someone else in the White House, and that this someone else might be Howard Dean. If it is, would we be in for post-Somalia again, or would Dean recognize that–like it or not–the United States carries a unique international responsibility and burden, and one it will always be criticized for shouldering?
The Bush camp and the rival Democrats claim that Dean is actually that most dangerous of candidates–a small-town weed. He didn’t support the war and he isn’t really up for the fight against ter- ror, so allies, too, should beware a Dean administration.
But if you look at what Dean actually says, then–for the most part–the horses remain distinctly unfrightened. Take Dean’s opposition to the war in Iraq out of the equation and there is very little in his major foreign-policy address in December that a British Labourite, say, could object to. Like this, for example: “Today, billions of people live on the knife’s edge of survival, trapped in a struggle against ignorance, poverty and disease. Their misery is a breeding ground for the hatred peddled by [Osama] bin Laden and other merchants of death. As president, I will work to narrow the now widening gap between rich and poor.”
This is a formulation that could have come right out of any Tony Blair speech of the last five years. In fact, it is his favorite peroration, and his most heartfelt. Nor does Dean’s emphasis on multilateralism, alliances or reforming the United Nations seem like anything other than plain old common sense to many Brits. Blair’s desire to pursue a second U.N. resolution before the invasion of Iraq was not–as many have assumed–a domestic political emollient designed to smooth the passage of war. Blair really believed that the outcome would be better if the United Nations conferred legitimacy upon the enterprise. Unlike the hubristic neocons of Washington, he is a big-tent evangelist, rather than an excluding sectarian.
Now put Iraq back in the equation–because it could be argued that this is a material test of Dean’s determination to act if necessary–and the picture becomes murkier. Dean’s formulation is that Bush “launched the war in the wrong way, at the wrong time, with inadequate planning, insufficient help and at unbelievable cost.”
But what if the allies or friends won’t do the necessary thing? Russia supported the Serbs throughout the Bosnian and Kosovan crises, blocking U.N. action from its seat on the Security Council. Does America still act? The logic for Dean–just as it was for Bush and Clinton–is that it must. In what Blair calls the “interdependent world” there is no place for anyone to hide, no place for isolationism, especially not for an elephant-size superpower. This logic may not dictate the exact what, how and when of U.S. and allied intervening, nation-building and peacemaking–just the fact that all these will need to happen.
It’s here that we could do with some reassurance from the Democrat front runner. Even if it is by admitting that Iraq was a hard call, not simply a Republican folly. Now, that would sound presidential.
