Right from the outset, let me confess to you that I am trying something new today. I know you probably came here expecting to hear me deliver a rousing pep talk about the flat tax, or the gold standard, or maybe a sermon on why politicians in high places should keep at least fifty percent of their campaign promises. If so, I'm afraid I'm going to have to disappoint you.
Today, we are going to talk political philosophy. To butter you up a bit for what might be a trying experience, let me say that I passed up several opportunities in the last few months awaiting the right time and place. Today is the right time, this is the right place, and this prestigious forum is the right audience.
What I hope to inaugurate here today is a series of discussions, through the course of this year and next, about the choices the American people must make in order to ensure the well-being of the United States and the American way of life in the 21st century. These are complex choices for all of us, arising from the fact that we are now alone, uncontested as the sole leaders in a unipolar world. There is no book of instructions on how America should lead in the world. We have to write one and now is a good time to begin.
Perhaps the best place to start is to examine how we came to be the world leader in the first place. Interestingly enough, although American power and influence played the decisive role in the major struggles of the twentieth century, the United States was not the initiator of those cataclysmic events. In every case, we were called upon to defend and protect those threatened by oppression and tyranny....And in every case American leaders were sustained by the unwavering support of the American people, who wisely understood that events far from home played a substantial role in our own survival and our own future.
We were not involved at all in the decisions that led up to the first World War. Not one bit. But history will show that we made some major policy blunders that helped bring on the Great Depression and indeed the second World War—particularly the insanely protectionist Smoot-Hawley Act of 1930 and the overwhelming isolationism of that whole decade. At the time, though, we were not aware of our power and influence on world affairs and were largely absent from the international scene as the world careened toward a second World War. And though we might have played our cards better with the Soviet Union after that war, we certainly did not start the Cold War. They did.
Rather, every time we have exerted our influence and power in this century, it has been in reaction to the inability of others to contend with the aggressive and evil intentions of their fascist and communist adversaries. And because we accepted these challenges so successful, it is often said that the twentieth century has been the "American Century." It truly has been a time in which American ideals of freedom and democratic government prevailed over totalitarian beliefs, finally bringing a benign peace to the world and hope for the future. It was a successful outcome, a time when mankind made incredible advancements, but still it was a century of war and turmoil and economic depression for much of the world. I believe not only can we improve of it, but we must, in order to be true to our highest ideals.
My vision is that the twentieth century would be but a prelude to a new century founded on American ideas and precepts and rooted in America's lasting, democratic values—a century in which the achievements of yesteryear will pale by comparison. This is what I'm waxing philosophical about—the possibility of a golden age of liberal democracy, peace and equality of opportunity, not only in America but throughout the world.
In thinking about how America is to lead, we will have to avoid being trapped in the false dichotomy that currently characterizes the discussion of America's role in the world—a dichotomy that distorts and unnecessarily limits our vision of what that role should be. First, we hear suggestions from some that the United States should simply yield its power, trusting its fate to the collective will and judgment of a more powerful United Nations and other international bureaucracies like the IMF, the World Bank and the WTO. If America is really serious about democracy, so the argument goes, we should have no problem binding ourselves to the decisions of an international majority. Second, we have the isolationist, what the media likes to call the "nativist," view that America should retire from the world scene, and withdraw behind protectionist barriers, in order to tend to the myriad problems that have beset our society during these last decades of wars and periodic economic privations.
Ironically, though these two views are diametrically opposed, they arrive at the same result; that is, they contemplate little or no role for American leadership in the world, opting instead for an abdication of our moral responsibility to lead. But these views represent extremes, and, of course, those of us here in this room and the vast majority of the American people are not at the extremes. I hope we can agree that the uncomfortable equilibrium resulting from the countervailing pull of these two extremes is still preferable to either view.
But that equilibrium cannot long persist, nor should it. If we are going to draft an architecture for the coming American Century, these competing forces have to be taken into account and composed.
But in the meantime, we must watch out for a third, potentially more dangerous, development. In the midst of our deliberations we have recently developed a rather ambivalent posture toward world affairs—reacting to world events on an ad hoc basis, dabbling in the world's affairs when it suits our mood or our politics. We intend to keep silent on what should now be done with the world, but we continue to announce that we will intervene on our own motion in any circumstance or series of events which we find threatening...or interesting.
As we listen to all of these opinions on America's future role, and, more alarmingly, ponder the assumptions which support them, thoughtful people must give pause. Quite simply, America must lead. The United States cannot abdicate, we cannot withdraw from the world, and we cannot simply dabble in its affairs.
Let me take on these arguments one by one. First, it is a gross mistake to assume that relinquishing power to the United Nations would constitute a giant step for democracy. The United Nations is not a body representative of people, only of government. As such, it has no standing as a democratic body. The idea that sovereign powers should be yielded to an international body of elitists that could by majority vote decide what was best for the world, unreviewed by public opinion, would constitute the greatest loss of freedom in the history of the world.
And besides, the notion that a United Nations with expanded powers could administer over a lasting peace in the world is an idyllic one at best. The United Nations was formed in a second American attempt to provide a forum for the countries of the world, so that disputes could be solved more peacefully and wars avoided. But today, that noble purpose has been undermined by political forces—notwithstanding the trip of the U.N. Secretary General to the Middle East.
Nor does it make sense to yield more power to the United Nations, thinking it will mean less responsibility for us. The day would not be far away when some action were taken which we clearly could not abide. Without our support and financial backing, the United Nations would soon collapse, thus ending its present limited value as a global forum. Far better to withhold these new powers in the first place than agree to any charade of world government.
My guess if that if the people of the world could vote by secret ballot, they would reject the idea of giving their own representatives power at the expense of the United States. They are seriously looking up to us, I believe, for guidance in how to make the coming century one of harmony and prosperity. But this is all the more reason why we must also reject the other argument in the dichotomy. We cannot simply withdraw from the world, living a life of self-indulgence behind closed borders and trade barriers in an ill-fated effort to protect American jobs. We cannot hope to assure our well-being and national security by superior military might alone. Nor would building a fortress America relieve us from any responsibility for what happens in the rest of the world.
Even those who express such daydreams know they are impossible, that they are genuinely an anathema to an American spirit that tells each of us that the rest of the world sent its best people to the New World, hoping to some day learn from our experience how they too can succeed as we do. Mankind did not struggle over all these millennia to see America—the nation of nations—finally get to the top, only to find it pulling the ladder up and resolving to keep the rest of the world in its place, underfoot and outside our borders.
The benefits of being an American accrue to us individually, not communally. Crucial to the experience of enjoying these benefits is that fair competition is maximized, initiative rewarded, and human beings encouraged to dream and make those dreams come true. Even if we could do it, Americans do not wish to live in a protectionist world where choices are limited, mediocrity encouraged and the individual diminished. Without choice, there is no freedom; without the risk of failure, there is no chance of success. Neither the country the isolationists would create nor would a world governed by a United Nations would be an America as we have known it or would want it.
The third approach to our future—dabbling here and there and ad hoc responses to crises real or perceived—is the one I see taking shape in our national political establishment, by which I mean the movers and shakers of both political parties. This power core seems to have it in mind that it can be isolationist one day and internationalist the next, depending upon U.S. interest as they define it at the moment. They would have us indulge in whatever whim we felt at the moment. They can be found citing our lack of interest in what happens to the world when we don't wish to act and citing our "grave national interest" or our U.N. Security Council obligations when we see a chance to intervene profitably. This is a strategy without policy, a posture that would lead us down the path of imperialism and inevitably cause much of the world to conspire against us.
Can we say our reluctance to examine our future role in the world more positively stems from the fact that we never sought the kind of ascendancy which we presently enjoy? Perhaps. Unlike the great empires of the past, America has never really wanted imperial power. We know our country is special. We intuitively understand that Lincoln was right in saying America is the last, best hope for mankind.
My own guess is that we have been reluctant to map out our role in the world because we assumed or hoped the future would take care of itself, without our worrying about it. That is proving not to be the case. The Cold War is over, the Berlin Wall is down and apartheid is dead. Stock markets and bond markets are bustling in Beijing and Moscow and records are being broken on Wall Street every time you turn around. But suddenly comes a huge downdraft in Thailand and we are watching a trapdoor open up below the Tigers of Asia, a great sucking sound as capital disappears down a black hole somewhere in the Pacific. Now there are people in Nevada traipsing around with anthrax, perhaps looking for a way to end the short history of civilization. And there is Saddam Hussein and the Palestinians and the Bosnians and the Serbs.
The future is not taking care of itself, it is showing up in most unexpected and even threatening ways, and it is spoiling Sunday afternoons at the ballpark and giving us bad dreams at night. No question about it, ladies and gentlemen. We cannot afford to let the future take care of itself. We have to think this through. Otherwise, as the prophet warned, the people will perish for lack of vision. Clearly, we need a new rationale or policy to explain our actions. We need a new compact with the American people which sets out our goals and explains our actions in the context of achieving those goals. And particularly, we need a vision of boundless opportunity of which the whole world can be a part.