By David B. MacDonald
The United States enjoys a decisive advantage in “hard power” capabilities. The American taxpayer spends just under half of the world’s defense budget, contributing greatly to America’s ability to wield military force in the international arena. And yet, the failure of the Bush administration to turn skeptics into allies demonstrates that Presidents seeking to get their way need more subtle tools as well. Joseph Nye some time ago referred to this as “soft power” – the ability to convince others of the rightness of your actions using America as a model and carrot rather than as an enemy and stick. For Nye, power is a magnet. On one side, if used wrongly it can repel. Flipped over, as Nye suggests, it has the ability to attract.
Nye and other soft power theorists, however, have largely ignored the fact that neoconservatives did believe in soft power. It was just a different kind of soft power. Their soft power consisted in the reiteration of American goodness and the “framing and shaming” of opponents. Since there was no question that the United States was a force for good in the world, there was no question that its actions would be seen as benignly intentioned and beneficial for all concerned. The soft power in which neoconservatives believed was almost unconsciously expressed – America was always a moral actor. How was this claim advanced? Largely, neoconservative arguments were based on “lessons of history” from World War II. For many neoconservatives this “good war” saw an unambiguously good America fighting against evil. Americans liberated Europe, freed Jews and other victims from the death camps, provided a haven for survivors, and pledged to defend Israel as a “lifeboat” for Jews worldwide threatened by lingering anti-Semitism. So goes the dominant narrative of America’s role in World War II which casts America as the antithesis of everything Nazi Germany represents. The Good War has become what nationalism theorists call a “usable past,” a readily identifiable stock of myths, symbols, images, rhetoric, and values on which policy-makers draw when confronting a crisis.
Steven Lukes’ classic reflection on power is useful in understanding what neoconseratives were trying to do in America and around the world. At its simplest level, power is of course the ability to make someone do something they don’t want to do, or to prevent them from doing what they want to do. This is hard power. Yet at its most complex level, power can be unconscious and internalized. Power exists where dominant actors are able to frame our understandings of the past and present to the extent that we operate within these frames without even knowing it. Power exists when moral barriers are erected about what should be discussed or not, and what actions should be performed or circumscribed.
An important part of neoconservative soft power was the ability to make opponents and skeptics of the U.S. feel guilt or shame. Reflecting a narrow understanding of World War II, Europeans were classified as “appeasers” or “collaborators” who sat back as the Holocaust unfolded. They either sat on their hands and did nothing, or helped round up Jews and other victims to be killed. This has at various times been known as the “myth of abandonment”, the “Auschwitz analogy”, or the “contract of mutual indifference”. The key was to see world history as a drama, which pitted America as a liberator trying to save victims, in the face of various aggressors and bystanders. American power was based on its identity as a liberator – on its consistent willingness to stand up to “evil” in world politics: Hitler, Stalin, Milosevic, bin Laden, and Saddam.
In such a view of history, Europeans were either perpetrators or bystanders, and were enjoined to feel shame for their bystanding, or guilt for their atrocities. Americans however could feel pride from their liberation efforts. After 9/11, these “role identities” as I call them became salient once more. The War on Terror, seen by Eliot Cohen, Norman Podhoretz and others as “World War IV” necessitated the same understanding of world politics. Americans were liberating Afghans and Iraqis, fighting totalitarian leaders like Saddam and bin Laden, while the Europeans either collaborated or appeased evil. This was the moral argument advanced by influential neoconservatives before and during the Iraq war.
Anti-Americanism was also instrumentalized to promote neoconservative soft power. In some neoconservative definitions, the term was likened to racism, anti-Semitism, and sexism. Since no good moral person would want to self-identity as a racist, anti-Semite, or sexist, accusations of anti-Americanism were designed to promote self-policing. If it was politically incorrect to see some groups of people as inferior, or dangerous, so too was it un-PC to denounce American actions in Iraq or elsewhere. Could one attack U.S. policies and George W. Bush without being an anti-American? Russell Berman for example, was clear that anti-Americanism was first and foremost a lens. Anti-Americans were against the war in Iraq because they viewed U.S. actions through anti-American glasses, not because there was anything objectively wrong with the mission per se. Andrei Markovits even proposed that anti-Semitism and anti-Americanism could be seen as “twin brothers”, since they seemed to be very alike and often accompanied each other. As such critics of the U.S. were denounced, using imagery borrowed from the civil rights era.
Neither of these views helped to encourage European or Canadian support. No one likes to be called a collaborator or appeaser, or have one's critique of American foreign policy likened to racism, sexism, or anti-Semitism. This style of moral soft power, the power to “frame and shame” did little to boost external support for the Iraq war. Rather, it was the reverse – shaming often encourages resistance, not compliance. Many Europeans used the same role identities, but chose to see the Iraqi people as the victims, victims first of sanctions, then of the U.S. invasion. The indiscriminate looting following the invasion, mixed with the bungling of the Bremer administration in Iraq, mixed with the “opening” of Iraq for foreign investment, did little to show American morality at its finest. For opponents of the war, those who sided with the U.S. aggressor: Spain, Italy, and Britain, were themselves the appeasers. The liberators in Europe seemed to be those who argued against the war, who feared the excesses of America’s unilateral power. Neoconservatives, in offering such a moral absolute framework for understanding world politics, buttressed their own sense of self-righteousness, but failed to draw too many outsiders into their world of moral absolutes.
The question for President Obama is: how can the U.S. regain its lost moral authority? How can it be once more be seen as a liberator and not an aggressor? This is not an easy question to answer for the new administration. What is particularly fascinating is the way both Barack Obama and John McCain promoted themselves as messianic redeemer candidates. Both promoted a theme of hope in the midst of adversity. Obama’s story and his message seemed clear: vote for me and show the world that America has transcended history – that it is a unified society not divided by race, or class, or ideology. McCain’s message was somewhat different. He too promised to redeem America, but largely through the story of his sacrifice at the hands of the Vietcong. McCain presented a pieta of the suffering Christ, willing to die for his country. McCain sacrificed so that Vietnam and indeed all U.S. conflicts, including Iraq could be vindicated by history. U.S. wars are not about national security, or oil, or terrorism, but about the suffering of soldiers, and their power to redeem America through their sacrifices, freely given, for the nation.
Ultimately the Obama message of hope seemed more forward looking, his knowledge of economic affairs stronger, his vision for Iraq more palatable. As Joe Nye said recently, Obama is soft power, in that he is widely popular around the world. A recent poll this year confirms that Obama is roundly popular. Of 18 countries, and over 17,000 people surveyed by GlobeScan and the Program on International Policy Attitudes, 67% said they had faith that Obama would help rebuild America’s image abroad. The most optimistic region was Europe, where 80% of Italians and Germans surveyed felt relations would improve under Obama. This is crucial since some 60% of Americans surveyed feel improving relations should be the administration’s top priority.
Unlike the neoconservative view of soft power, which relied on shaming allies, and promoting American goodness, Obama is more circumspect. He still retains great faith in America, but his soft power is more accommodating, less focused on absolutes. He has shown himself more willing to listen and less willing to dictate. He can no longer assume that U.S. soft power is a magnet that attracts, or that the American model is one the rest of the world wants to emulate. As Bush argued after winning his second term, “I earned capital in the campaign and now I intend to spend it.” Obama seems to understand better than his predecessor that spending without regard for the consequences (both figuratively and literally) can be a recipe for disaster.
David B. MacDonald is an assistant professor in the Department of Political Science at the University of Guelph and is the author of Thinking History, Fighting Evil: Neoconservatives and the Perils of Analogy in American Politics.