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The new Bush Doctrine has two components, a reactive one, and a preventive
and proactive one; it holds that under some circumstances the United States has
the right to wage preemptive war. What are the likely costs and consequences of
this bold and controversial policy?
The era of procrastination, of half-measures, of soothing and baffling
expedients, of delays, is coming to its close. In its place we are entering a
period of consequences. --Winston Churchill, 1936
ike all great oratory,
Churchill's words have a timeless quality. Echoing down the decades, they seem
as relevant today as when he spoke them. Like a Rorschach inkblot, however,
their meaning tends
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President George W. Bush addresses the UN General Assembly on September 12,
2002, calling for tough action against Iraq.
to change depending on the reader's perspective. For those
who resent America's creeping hegemony or revel in its defeats, Churchill's
words capture the rationale for September 11, 2001: America had grown arrogant,
invulnerable, and disinterested, and the terrorist attacks that felled the twin
towers and charred the Pentagon were an exclamation point to years of bitter
frustration.
Churchill's words paint a much
different picture for George W. Bush and indeed for many Americans. For them,
his words explain not what has already transpired but what is yet to come--a
long-overdue period of consequences for America's enemies. Nowhere is this
sentiment clearer than in the so-called Bush Doctrine. Like the Truman Doctrine,
which set America's course at the outset of the Cold War, and the Reagan
Doctrine, which hastened the end of the Cold War, the Bush Doctrine promises to
redefine America's role overseas, reshape international law, and reorder the
globe. Like those other foreign-policy doctrines, the Bush Doctrine holds forth
great opportunity and great risk.
Preventive Medicine
he Bush Doctrine actually has
two distinct, but not separate, parts. To borrow the terminology of medicine,
one part is rehabilitative and reactive--that is, it is aimed at correcting a
preexisting condition. The other is preventive and proactive. Like a regimen of
vitamins, this second half of the Bush Doctrine aims at preventing disease.
The doctrine's reactive
component was unveiled during the president's address to a joint session of
Congress on September 20, 2001. "From this day forward," Bush
explained, "any nation that continues to harbor or support terrorism will
be regarded by the United States as a hostile regime." Although it
represented a subtle change in U.S. policy, no one really had a problem with the
Bush Doctrine in this, its fetal, stage. Most observers concluded that Bush was
aiming his rhetoric--and America's military might--at the Taliban regime in
Afghanistan, which he indeed was.
However, Bush and his
national-security team were also laying the groundwork for something far more
revolutionary than simply rolling back terrorist organizations and the states
that harbor and fund them.
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Soviet Mig-23:The Soviets were able to field sophisticated weapons
during the Cold War.
In early 2002, the president began to outline the doctrine's proactive
component, premised on preventive self-defense. "The United States will not
permit the world's most dangerous regimes to threaten us with the world's most
destructive weapons," Bush declared in the 2002 State of the Union. In his
landmark address at West Point five months later, he warned that defeating those
regimes and protecting America in an age of terror will sometimes require
"preemptive action." By autumn, with the release of the
administration's new national security strategy, the doctrine was complete:
"As a matter of common sense and self-defense," the document
explained, "America will act against such emerging threats before they are
fully formed."
This full-grown version of the
Bush Doctrine has drawn heavy criticism from friend and foe alike. Erstwhile
allies condemn Washington for using terrorism as a pretext for the creation of
an American empire. Enemies predict that once applied, the Bush Doctrine will
engulf the entire Middle East in an uncontainable war.
With the carnage of September 11
as a backdrop and the threat of nuclear, biological, or chemical attacks on the
horizon, Bush has been unmoved by the criticism. The doctrine that bears his
name is now being put to the test: In Afghanistan, which once harbored and
sheltered al Qaeda, we see its reactive-rehabilitative component; and in Iraq,
which sponsors terrorist groups while arming itself with plutonium, plague, and
poison, we will soon see its proactive-preventive component. Bush recognizes
that his doctrine will be ineffective unless both parts remain fused.
The Blair Doctine?
ccording to Gordon Sullivan,
former deputy chief of staff of the U.S. Army, "Good doctrine describes how
a nation intends to fight in war and, by doing so, guides how it organizes,
trains and equips its military forces. That is, in fact, the purpose of
doctrine."1 When Harry Truman unveiled his postwar doctrine
during an address to Congress in 1947, he described how America would fight the
Cold War and laid the foundation for an organizing principle that guided the
nation's military procurements and deployments for almost half a century.
Likewise, when Reagan articulated his aid-to-anticommunists doctrine in the
early 1980s, he was reflecting his determination to challenge the Soviets
throughout the Third World--and his willingness to devote considerable economic
and military resources to the effort.
We cannot yet calculate the
political-military effectiveness of the Bush Doctrine, but we can conclude that
it does satisfy the technical definition of "good doctrine." Bush has
described how the United States intends to fight in a post--September 11 world,
and that vision is guiding how U.S. forces are being organized, trained,
equipped, and deployed. The president's European critics notwithstanding, the
Bush Doctrine is not a case of rhetoric defining policy. Rather, it is the Bush
administration's response to a transformed security environment. Bush is not
alone in recognizing this transformation. In fact, he arguably wasn't even the
first to advocate a new doctrine to respond to it. A full week before Bush
outlined the first phase of his doctrine, British Prime Minister Tony Blair
declared in a speech to the House of Commons, "Those that harbor or help
[terrorists] have a choice: either to cease their protection of our enemies, or
be treated as an enemy." Foreshadowing the proactive elements of the Bush
Doctrine, he warned that terrorists and their sponsors "would, if they
could, go further and use chemical or biological or even nuclear weapons of mass
destruction." As a consequence, Blair continued, "we need to rethink
dramatically the scale and nature of the actions the world takes to combat
terrorism." Sounding positively Churchillian, he concluded his remarks with
an ominous footnote: "We have been warned by the events of 11 September. We
should act on the warning."
Blair never mentioned
"preemptive strikes" or "preventive war," which are
apparently the diplomatic equivalents of four-letter words, but he didn't have
to. His speech connected the dots from terrorist groups to terrorist states--and
from September 11 to a future deformed by a nuclear-armed alliance of the two.
Sometimes the solution is so obvious that it need not be spelled out.
While on the subject of words
unspoken, a brief detour through etymology may be helpful in clarifying the
rationale and aims of the Bush Doctrine. "Preemptive war" and
"preventive war" are often used interchangeably. When it comes to the
Bush Doctrine, however, the latter may be more accurate. According to
Merriam-Webster's Dictionary, the term preemptive means "marked by the
seizing of the initiative." Preventive, on the other hand, is defined as
"undertaken to forestall anticipated hostile action." It implies
"taking advance measures against something possible or probable." The
difference is subtle but important. The Bush Doctrine aims not to surprise rogue
regimes and win back the initiative lost on September 11 (as if that is even
possible now), but to prevent these regimes from striking America yet again,
acquiring weapons of mass destruction and using, selling, or sharing them.
Waiting for War
o the critics, this is a radical
departure from the traditional American way of war. Perhaps this is
understandable, given the long shadow cast by World War II--a war the United
States entered only after being attacked. America's entry into and prosecution
of World Wars I and II became the template for war. Under this reading of U.S.
military history, the United States weathers an initial attack, assumes the
"strategic defensive" to gather sufficient forces for retaliation, and
then takes the war to the enemy in a series of decisive battles.2
This reactive way of war was
shaped as much by the country's unique geographic position as by its first
president. Surrounded by wilderness, vast oceans, and passive neighbors, the
United States could steer clear of the wars that roiled Europe and the rest of
the world. As George Washington observed during his farewell address, "Our
detached and distant situation invites and enables us to pursue a different
course." The men who followed him heeded his advice. In the nineteenth
century, John Quincy Adams echoed Washington: America "goes not abroad in
search of monsters to destroy," he intoned. In the twentieth century, it
was Woodrow Wilson: "Every man who really loves America," he explained
as
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A U.S. Marine and an Anti-Taliban fighter kneel in prayer before going on a
mission against al Qaeda in Afghanistan.
Europe marched into the Great War, "will act and speak in the true spirit
of neutrality."
Not until the missile age, when
Soviet rockets could strike any patch of U.S. soil, did American leaders think
anew. By then, the United States no longer had the luxury of waiting for war.
Instead, America was left with an unpalatable--and for it, an
unprecedented--choice: forge an entangling alliance to serve as a first line of
defense or wage preventive war to remove the threat. Washington's advice no
longer made sense in a world of atom bombs and ICBMs.
In the same way, the security
doctrines of the twentieth century don't make sense in the twenty-first.
Lincoln's words to Congress in 1862 take on new meaning in this age of terror:
"The dogmas of the quiet past," he concluded, "are inadequate to
the stormy present." Quite unlike the Soviet Union, the terrorist states
and substate groups of the twenty-first century respect neither America's might
nor the atom's power. To wait for them to strike again is to invite something
much worse than September 11. Simon Serfaty, a research fellow at the Center for
Security and International Studies, puts it this way: "Wherever there are
capabilities to do evil, it must now be assumed that there may be a will, and
wherever there is a will, there is a risk that is no longer acceptable and must
be, therefore, preempted."3
As a matter of stated U.S.
policy, preventive war may represent something new, but historically and
conceptually it is anything but new. In the seventeenth century, Sir Francis
Bacon argued that "a just fear of an imminent danger, though no blow be
given, is a lawful cause of war."4 As Michael Walzer explains in
Just and Unjust Wars, preventive war can be a legitimate expression of national
policy. "A state under threat," he writes, "is like an individual
hunted by an enemy who has announced his intention of killing or injuring him.
Surely such a person may surprise his hunter, if he is able to do so." It's
hard to construct a better metaphor for America's position in relation to
today's terrorist predators. According to Walzer, since preventive war is
launched not at "the point of imminent attack, but at the point of
sufficient threat," it is always a matter of judgment.5
The United States is not the
first nation to arrive at that latter point. Great Britain, along with France,
landed there in the mid-1930s. As a backbencher, Churchill tried to prod two
successive prime ministers into preventive action. "Germany is arming
fast," he warned, lamenting the fact that "no one proposes preventive
war to stop Germany from breaking the Treaty of Versailles."6 It
could have been done. "Britain and France," writes British historian
Paul Johnson, "might conceivably have contained Hitler in 1933--34, had
both been resolute and willing to act."7 Lacking the foresight
to take that step and put Bacon's words into practice, Churchill's predecessors
averted their gaze from the storm gathering just across the Channel. By
recasting the ongoing dispute between Washington and Baghdad as an outgrowth of
the latter's numerous cease-fire violations rather than a personal vendetta,
Bush cleverly drew a parallel between post--Gulf War Iraq and pre--World War II
Germany.
From Berlin to Belgrade
till, we need not rely on
British MPs or seventeenth-century philosophers for historical justification of
preventive war. Throughout the twentieth century, American political leaders did
what was necessary to protect U.S. interests and territory--even if it meant
contemplating, threatening, or waging preventive war.
In 1999, for example, President
Bill Clinton used the principles of preventive war to justify the U.S.-led
bombardment of Slobodan Milosevic. "We act to prevent a wider war," he
explained, "a war we would be forced to confront later--only at far greater
risk and greater cost."
In June 1994, the Pentagon
developed plans for a preemptive strike against North Korea's Yongbyon nuclear
facility. "We were within a day of making major additions to our troop
deployments to Korea," recalls Clinton Defense Secretary William Perry.
Foreshadowing today's debate over the Bush Doctrine, a 1994 report from the
Congressional Research Service warned that such
"counter-proliferation" by means of military force "would raise
constitutional and international legal questions."
Clinton wasn't the first to
discuss preventive military action. In 1948, high-level Pentagon officials
proposed preemptive atomic strikes on Moscow during the Berlin blockade.
According to historian Arthur Schlesinger, the Pentagon brass also drew up plans
for a massive preemptive assault against Vietnam in 1954, an assault openly
contemplated by President Dwight Eisenhower. "Opposition by Congress and by
the British killed the idea," Schlesinger observes. A year later, when
mainland China threatened Taiwan, Eisenhower considered the use of atomic
weapons to prevent a communist invasion and preserve Washington's strategic edge
in the region.8 President John Kennedy nearly launched a preventive
war against Cuba in 1962. In fact, the current debate over the legitimacy,
morality, and necessity of preventive war echoes the words spoken by Kennedy's
cabinet during the Cuban Missile Crisis. "We don't know what they're
capable of," Defense Secretary Robert McNamara sighed during one meeting,
concluding that "we must assume there will be nuclear warheads"
involved. Later, McNamara warned that if the president chose the preventive
option, the United States should be prepared to build a post-Castro
government--and should expect the war to spread. Joint Chiefs Chairman Maxwell
Taylor cautioned that even a massive preemptive strike wouldn't ensure the
elimination of every missile. National Security Adviser McGeorge Bundy worried
about how the allies would react. Secretary of State Dean Rusk assured the
president that the American people would "undertake great danger ... if
they have a feeling that you've done everything that is reasonably
possible." Exposing a sad misreading of history, Attorney General Robert
Kennedy scribbled a note to his brother that read: "I now know how Tojo
felt when he was planning Pearl Harbor." After returning from a secret
meeting with Eisenhower, CIA Director John McCone reported that, true to form,
the former president recommended "all-out military action ... go right to
the jugular."9
Kennedy was ready to do exactly
that. At the height of the crisis, fully one-eighth of the U.S. Air Force was
airborne at any given time. Hundreds of warplanes were redeployed to civilian
airports. All told, more than thirteen hundred bombers were lined up on runways
across the southeastern United States, many of them loaded with nuclear weapons.
For the first time in history, the Pentagon shifted its military-readiness
status to Defense Condition 2, the highest state of readiness short of war
itself.
Intriguingly, America's
preparations for preventive war that autumn began long before Soviet missiles
arrived in Cuba. In February 1962, a full eight months before U-2 reconnaissance
flights confirmed the deployment of Soviet missiles in Cuba, the Pentagon
developed a plan for what can only be described as an all-out preventive war.
Dubbed
With its fire-first rhetoric, the Bush Doctrine's
pro-active-preventive component has generated most of the headlines.
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Operation Mongoose, it aimed at wiping out Castro and his regime. On September
20, three weeks before the missiles were deployed, the Senate passed a
resolution supporting military action in Cuba. A week later, the Air Force
completed plans for a massive preemptive strike. On October 2, McNamara drafted
a memo detailing six possible justifications for military action against Cuba,
one of which was any evidence that missiles or other offensive weapons that
could threaten the United States were deployed on the island. (McNamara's words
will sound familiar to anyone who has heard the Bush administration's case for
war in Iraq.) Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev in fact deployed such weapons, but
he ultimately blinked and dismantled them, enabling Kennedy to stand down his
invasion forces.
Israel didn't have that good
fortune five years later. In June 1967, after Egypt put its armed forces on high
alert, expelled peacekeepers from a key buffer zone, and signed a military pact
with Syria and Jordan, the Israeli military launched perhaps the most famous and
successful preventive war in history. The Israelis routed the pan-Arab armies in
six days, and, because they faced an imminent, mortal threat, they had every
right to do so.
Consequences
hat was true of an encircled
Israel in 1967 is true of a hunted America in 2003. As Bush argues in his
national security strategy, "In the Cold War, weapons of mass destruction
were weapons of last resort. ... Today, our enemies see weapons of mass
destruction as weapons of choice." That is why the United States has both
the right and responsibility to go abroad in search of monsters to destroy. If
America does not, no one else will. Indeed, no one else can. For good or ill,
this period of consequences promises to change the world and the United States.
With its fire-first rhetoric,
the Bush Doctrine's proactive-preventive component has generated most of the
headlines. What has been largely overlooked is the expansive nature of the
doctrine's reactive-rehabilitative component: Even now, it is being applied in
such disparate places as Afghanistan, Djibouti, Indonesia, Malaysia, the
Philippines, Yemen, Somalia, and Georgia--places where governments are friendly
but feeble, places Washington cared little about prior to September 11. U.S.
engagement in these forgotten corners of the world is a by-product of
Washington's belated recognition that global terrorism doesn't just sprout up
spontaneously. Like a poisonous weed, it grows where it is allowed to grow. Some
governments simply lack the capacity to uproot it. Those governments will be
supported by the Bush Doctrine, just as Greece and Turkey were buttressed by the
Truman Doctrine. Governments that nurture terrorism, like Afghanistan's Taliban,
will be choked and smothered by the Bush Doctrine. Governments that deal in
terror and weapons of mass destruction, like Iraq, will become the targets of
preventive war. In Serfaty's words, the Bush Doctrine "offers redemption
with a second chance for those who repent. But most ominously, it is also a
doctrine that promises punishment for sinners and evil-doers."10
Saddam Hussein's Iraq is just
one of many targets. Beyond Baghdad lie Iran, North Korea, Syria, Libya, Sudan,
and Saudi Arabia. This is not to say that preventive war is inevitable in each
of these countries. Although Iraq appears beyond redemption, Libya is slowly
limping away from its old ways. Given the right incentives or pressures, North
Korea, Syria, Sudan, and Saudi Arabia might choose the path of repentance. By
some accounts, Iran is teetering on the brink of a counterrevolution.
Still, the White House cannot
base a national-security strategy on hope and hypotheticals. That was tried and
failed. It must never be tried again.
The alternative is preventive
war, and it promises to be costly--in diplomatic standing, in treasure, and in
blood. As historian Alan Brinkley recently observed, the Bush Doctrine's
aggressive stance has "the potential for unleashing a level of
anti-Americanism around the world--not just in the Middle East and the areas
where we may take military action, but in Europe and among our friends."11
But, given what happened on September 11, it is surely better to carry the
battle to the enemy and risk diplomatic isolation than to win the friendship of
UN bureaucrats and risk a cataclysm. Of course, this may be a false choice: When
Bush laid out the case against Baghdad for the UN General Assembly last
September, the diplomats listened and many of them fell in line. As Defense
Secretary Donald Rumsfeld has observed, "Leadership in the right direction
finds followers and supporters."
Furthermore, it is better to
give the military the resources to fight on America's terms than to fight on
American soil. In its first post--September 11 budget, the White House earmarked
$369 billion for defense--a 12
Just as the campaign in Afghanistan altered the behavior of Pakistan
and has already reshaped much of central Asia, preventive military action
in Iraq or Syria could have a deterrent effect vis-à-vis more distant
threats.
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percent increase over the previous year. For the kind of war that lies ahead,
however, this may not be enough. Take, for example, the high-tech bombs used in
Afghanistan. Each laser-guided bomb costs $250,000; 6,000 of them were used in
Afghanistan. Each satellite-guided Joint Direct Attack Munition (JDAM) costs
$25,000; another 6,000 of these were dropped in Afghanistan.12 Thus,
in air-dropped missiles alone, the United States spent some $1.65 billion
applying the Bush Doctrine in Afghanistan. This figure promises to mushroom in
Iraq, where the targets are far more plentiful and the enemy could prove far
more tenacious. Indeed, White House economic adviser Larry Lindsey has estimated
that the war in Iraq could cost as much as $200 billion, and Iraq is presumably
only the beginning.13
The United States certainly has
the economic capacity to sustain such an effort. As Rumsfeld noted last year in
testimony before the Senate, "In the Eisenhower and Kennedy era, we were
spending about 10 percent of our gross national product on defense [and] over 50
percent of the federal budget on defense." The 2003 defense budget, by
comparison, amounts to a scant 3.3 percent of GDP and just 17 percent of the
overall federal budget.14 According to historian-author Mark Helprin,
if the United States invested merely "the peacetime average of the last
half-century," its current defense budget would be $655 billion. A military
investment comparable to World War II outlays, he adds, would approach the $4
trillion mark.15
Finally, it is preferable for
military personnel to risk their lives in war than for civilians to be
evaporated in peacetime. That may sound unfeeling and cold, but any soldier,
sailor, airman, or Marine would agree. That is what they are sworn to do.
Indeed, as Rumsfeld explains, the mission of the U.S. military is "first,
to protect the homeland." In an age of terror--when mass murderers scramble
to build weapons of mass destruction and maim U.S. cities--fulfilling that
mission requires sending America's sons and daughters to wage preventive war in
faraway lands. They must not fight and die in vain, but they must fight.
Durable or Doomed?
hat brings us to the long-term
viability of the Bush Doctrine, which remains to be seen. Domestic politics, of
course, will be a factor. If the American people conclude that their troops are
dying in vain, the Bush Doctrine and its architect will become a footnote in
history. Under this grim scenario, it is doubtful that Bush's successor would
ever invoke the doctrine by name or practice.
However, it is just as possible
that the Bush Doctrine will be effective in defending America and promoting
international security. Helprin's comparisons notwithstanding, this is not World
War II. The enemy is different. America is different, and America's position
relative to the rest of the world is different. The Bush Doctrine can leverage
these realities. By matching rhetoric with action in one part of the world, the
doctrine can have a dramatic impact elsewhere. Just as the campaign in
Afghanistan altered the behavior of Pakistan and has already reshaped much of
central Asia, preventive military action in Iraq or Syria could have a deterrent
effect vis-ˆ-vis more distant threats.
If this second scenario unfolds
and Bush governs until 2009, he will, in effect, shape an entire decade of U.S.
foreign policy. Like Truman from 1945 to 1953, he will have laid the groundwork
for an enduring national-security strategy.
International politics will also
play a role. The Bush Doctrine openly contemplates the dismantling of sovereign
states. The rationale for this international equivalent of the death penalty may
seem solid in Washington, but it appears vague and malleable on the other side
of the Atlantic. In essence, Washington is saying, "Trust America's
judgment." If any country has earned that trust, it is the United States.
Trust has limits, however. To return to our medical analogy, if the cure proves
worse than the disease, the pressure from allies to scrap the Bush Doctrine will
be enormous.
Moreover, the United States
could lose by winning. Even if the preventive wars of the next decade go well,
the omnipresence and near-omnipotence required to wage them could cause serious
problems. A nation with both the unequaled power of the United States and the
unapologetic willingness to use it is bound to change the world. What Washington
must be especially sensitive to is how the Bush Doctrine could change America.
In applying the doctrine, the United States will likely be tempted by what
British scientist P.M.S. Blackett called the "Jupiter Complex"--which,
according to Paul Johnson, is the notion that America and its World War II
allies were "righteous gods, raining retributive thunderbolts on their
wicked enemies."
Of course, it could be argued
that the United States has already succumbed to that temptation. The last decade
saw Washington effortlessly and repeatedly strike its enemies from 30,000 feet.
In 1991, a U.S.-led air armada decimated the Iraqi military. Coalition losses
could be counted on two hands. In 1993, U.S. warships launched 23 cruise
missiles at an Iraqi intelligence facility. In 1995, U.S. warplanes ended
Milosevic's five-year siege of Bosnia and Croatia in a matter of hours. In
August 1998, Washington hurled 75 cruise missiles at Sudan and Afghanistan in a
simultaneous strike aptly code-named "Infinite Reach." The attacks
were aimed at disabling Osama bin Laden's terrorist network. (Had they been
effective, there would be no Bush Doctrine.) In one five-month stretch in 1999,
American and British pilots attacked 359 Iraqi targets with more than 1,100
missiles. Not one plane was lost. During the 1999 air campaign over Serbia, NATO
pilots flew a numbing 35,219 sorties, firing or dropping some 23,000 munitions.
Not one pilot was killed.
Perhaps nothing symbolizes the
Jupiter Complex better than Washington's use of the B-2 stealth bomber. Whether
the target is Belgrade, Bagram, or Baghdad, the B-2s fly out of Whiteman Air
Force Base in Missouri, travel twenty hours one way, let loose a dozen or so
2,000-pound bombs, and arc back toward home before the payloads even hit their
targets--all without touching the earth or even being detected. As B-2 squadron
commander Brig. Gen. Leroy Barnidge Jr. observed during the intercontinental
attacks against Kosovo in 1999, "There's not a target on the planet that we
can't hit."16
If anything, the sweeping
success in Afghanistan has fed both America's Jupiter Complex and the enemy's
appetite for effective countermeasures, such as unconventional warfare, weapons
of mass destruction, and long-range missilery. Yet those countermeasures are
rendered irrelevant when rogue regimes are replaced by democratic governments.
Indeed, no one inside the Pentagon worries about French commandos ramming an
airliner into the White House, British nukes evaporating Manhattan, or Turkish
missiles slamming into the Sixth Fleet. And that brings us to the most important
factor in determining the durability of the Bush Doctrine: Success on the
battlefield must translate into authentic regime change. To be truly effective,
the preventive-proactive component of the Bush Doctrine will need not only to
destroy the machinery of terror but to extend the architecture of freedom. To
its credit, Bush's national security strategy commits America to "building
a balance of power that favors freedom." That presupposes long-term U.S.
engagement, the kind that converted Japan and Germany from militarist states
into islands of peace and stability.
A Simple Choice
ost Americans would prefer the
simpler, safer world of Adams' day to the one we know. When Adams celebrated
America's blissful isolation, soldiers killed only soldiers, man's capacity to
destroy still lagged behind his desire to destroy, and vast oceans protected
this country from the monsters.
All of that has changed in the
intervening 182 years. Today, the monsters take aim first at women and children.
Their desire to destroy is unmatched. Their capacity to kill is unchecked by
conscience. Their reach is unlimited, and, as we learned on September 11, if
America fails to go abroad to destroy them, the monsters will surely come and
destroy us.
FOOTNOTES
1.Gordon Sullivan, "Doctrine: An Army Update," in The United States
Army in the 1990s, ed. Robert Pfaltzgraff and Richard Shultz (Lexington, Mass.:
D.C. Heath and Co., 1991), 77. 2.Harry Summers, "Mid-Intensity
Conflict," in The United States Army in the 1990s, 50--51. 3.Simon Serfaty,
"The Wars of 911," paper presented at a meeting of the Transatlantic
Policy Network, Dec. 1--2, 2001. 4.See Michael Walzer, Just and Unjust Wars (New
York: HarperCollins, 1992), 77. 5.Walzer, Just and Unjust Wars, 81. 6.Associated
Press, A History of World War II (New York: Associated Press, 1989), 16. 7.Paul
Johnson, Modern Times, rev. ed. (New York: HarperCollins, 1992), 345. 8.Arthur
Schlesinger, "Eisenhower the Hawk," in Major Problems in American
Foreign Policy Volume II: Since 1914, ed. Thomas Paterson (Lexington, Mass.:
Heath and Co., 1989), 474--76. 9.See "The Cuban Missile Crisis, 1962: A
Chronology of Events, October 1, 1962--October 25, 1962," George Washington
University National Security Archives, www.gwu.edu/nsarchiv/; "ExComm
Meeting Transcripts, October 16--18, 1962," CNN's Cold War, CNN.com.
10.Serfaty, "The Wars of 911," 5. 11.Newsweek interview, "A Date
with History," Sept. 9, 2002. 12.William Arkin, "The Smart Bomb That
Is Shaping US Iraq Strategy," Washingtonpost.com, Sept. 18, 2002.
13.Elisabeth Bumiller, "Amid Talk of War Spending, Bush Urges Fiscal
Restraint," New York Times, Sept. 17, 2002. 14.Donald Rumsfeld, testimony
to the Senate Armed Services Committee, Feb. 5, 2002. 15.Mark Helprin,
"Phony War," National Review, April 22, 2002. 16.Thomas Ricks,
"For These B-2 Pilots, Bombs Away Means Really Far, Far Away," The
Wall Street Journal, April 19, 1999.
Alan W. Dowd is assistant vice president at the Hudson Institute, in
Indianapolis. He writes frequently for The World & I, the Washington Times,
the American Legion Magazine, American Outlook, National Review Online, and
other national publications.
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