Pages

Friday, April 13, 2007

Suicide is Painless?

One aspect of our current generation of foreign policy "realism" that separates it from the Cold War version is that during the Cold War, realists accepted that we needed to back some unsavory regimes in order to fight the major threat of Soviet communism.

Sure, it would have been nice to have a South Korea fully democratic, but if the price of having a fully democratic South Korea tomorrow meant that we'd weaken a crucial ally and as a result lose to the Soviet Union in that struggle, it would have been a foolish tradeoff. And the South Korean democracy we got would not have lasted under the circumstances.

The point is, realism meant doing what it takes to fight the main enemy. That's why I was a realist then. Defeating the Soviets was the only objective that really mattered. First thing's first, in other words.

Oh, sure, during the 1970s, a powerful strain of realism held that we were doomed to lose the Cold War and that we could only buy time by resisting, but I never accepted that version of realism. But at least this form of realism did want to fight. Luckily, President Reagan ended that defeatism talk. We didn't lose to or converge with Soviet communism--we crushed it beneath a falling Berlin Wall and then took our victory lap around Saddam in 1991.

Today's realism isn't about winning--or even fighting--at all. Much as I noted how realism over Taiwan means just rolling over and surrendering to the Chinese, realism in the Long War means surrendering wherever we meet resistance. But "realism" sounds much better than "surrendering" or even "cowardice."

Wretchard notes a debate about Iran that sums it up:



Winds of Change looks at two assessments of whether the West can pressure Iran. Foreign Affairs says 'no'. Iran is too powerful. One can only hope for detente. "In order to develop a smarter Iran policy, U.S. leaders must first accept certain distasteful facts - such as Iran's ascendance as a regional power and the endurance of its regime - and then ask how those can be accommodated." A less academically prestigious magazine, Azure, says, 'yes': that compared to taking on the old USSR, Iran is a pushover by comparison.


This is what realism has come to mean: we can't possibly defeat some pipsqueak Third World despotism despite our massive power. Just accomodate them. No matter how nuts they are. The same goes for Iraq, of course.

But by the new logic of realism, the retreat can never end. Just accept that distasteful fact. And if we're really lucky, we can string out our defeat long enough to die in middle class comfort and let our children or grandchildren face the consequences of a Long Retreat.

I'd rather we fight and defeat our enemies, thank you very much, even if it is a Long War. We're not Belgians for God's sake. We have the power to win--but only if we have the confidence that we deserve to win.

Fighting inhumanly evil enemies is a game that's hard to play, no doubt. And surrendering doesn't even have to feel like surrendering at first. The sword of time will pierce our skins, and it doesn't hurt when it begins. You can say it is tough realism. But as it works its way on in, the pain grows stronger. And eventually, you can't pretend that your surrender really is as tough as you claim.

Defeating ourselves is hardly painless. Indeed, it brings on many changes. Changes we won't--or shouldn't--like. (With proper thanks.) We must beat Iran before the mullahs get nuclear weapons.

I didn't leave the realist camp. The realist camp left me. Good riddance.