George Orwell observed that political speech was often
used to obscure rather than convey meaning. Terms
such as "democracy" and "fascism," said Orwell, meant
little more than "something not desirable." Indeed, some
things never change - witness the use of "imperialism"
to describe everything from whacking Saddam Hussein to opening a
fast-food joint in Paris.
Any word that elastic has no real content. It's a bipartisan
tactic.
Massachusetts Senator Ted Kennedy recently abused the term when
he and his
colleagues were debating whether to authorize the use of force
against Iraq.
"The administration's doctrine," proclaimed Kennedy, "is a call
for 21st century
imperialism that no other nation can or should accept."
Not to be outdone, Pat Buchanan, standard-bearer of the hard
right, declared,
"We will soon launch an imperial war on Iraq with all the
'On-to-Berlin!'
bravado with which French poilus [soldiers] and British Tommies
marched in
August 1914." Kennedy and Buchanan: Politics really does make
strange
bedfellows!
What the opponents of war with Iraq really object to is
American power
and the willingness to use that power abroad - not to imperialism
in any
meaningful sense. To qualify as imperialism, a policy must
involve either an
acquisition of foreign territory or the use of military force to
compel
peripheral nations to provide wealth to the center - to the
United States. The
Bush foreign policy meets neither criterion.
Look at America's first flirtation with empire. In 1898 the US
Navy
demolished the Spanish fleet at Manila Bay, facing President
William McKinley
with a quandary: what to do with an archipelago, made up of 7,000
islands, that
had been wrested from one imperial power and was hotly desired by
America's
great power rivals.
McKinley was a diffident Caesar. Although he wanted a naval
station in the
Philippines, the president recoiled at the thought of annexing
the entire
archipelago. Yet he ultimately concluded that he could not
abandon the Filipinos
to the tender mercies of Kaiser Wilhelm. German warships had
steamed into
Philippine waters, fanning fears that the Europeans would shut
the United States
out of the China trade.
The president's decision to push for annexation of the
Philippines, not to
mention the ensuing war to subdue the Filipino opposition, fueled
an outcry.
Carl Schurz, vice president of the hastily organized
Anti-Imperialist League,
made the strongest case against a policy of imperialism. For
Schurz, who had
supported war against Spain on humanitarian grounds, a policy of
annexation
amounted to "criminal aggression." He thus turned the words of
President
McKinley - who had rebuffed demands for the annexation of Cuba in
precisely
those terms - against him.
The anti-imperialists foretold that America would do itself
enormous harm at
home if it undertook an imperial enterprise in East Asia.
Schurz interpreted McKinley's about-face on the Philippines as
proof that the
United States, if it once yielded to the temptation to acquire
foreign
territories, would be unable to resist embarking on a "career of
conquest," much
as the European nations had.
That would lead inexorably to ruinous military expenditures and
militarized
politics. Furthermore, the United States would have to choose
between
administering its new holdings as dependencies - upholding its
rule by force of
arms - and admitting them to the Union.
Both courses of action repelled the anti-imperialists. The
former, bellowed
Schurz, would enact "substantially arbitrary government" over the
islands -
surrendering the ideal, defended at frightful cost in the Civil
War, that there
were no second-class Americans; the second would bring "tropical
peoples"
unaccustomed to republican self-rule into the Union - and import
a host of
problems.
So much for the history lesson. Now, does President George W.
Bush's showdown
with Iraq constitute a latter-day exercise in imperialism along
the lines of
1898?
Nope. First, even the president's most vehement critics don't
accuse him of
plotting to annex Iraqi territory. More likely, given its dubious
track record
in Afghanistan, the administration will balk at committing the
resources
necessary to stabilize a post-Saddam Iraq.
Second, Bush isn't trying to reduce Iraq to economic servitude.
If the
president were jockeying for cheap Iraqi oil, as the antiwar
movement maintains,
he would simply push to lift the longstanding UN sanctions.
Baghdad would be
pleased as punch to sell the American people all the petroleum
they could use -
why bother seizing and administering such a large, unruly
country?
In short, there's an intellectually respectable case to be made
against war
in the Persian Gulf; it just isn't an anti-imperial case.
James R. Holmes is a research fellow in security studies at the
Institute for Foreign Policy Analysis and a Doctoral Candidate at The
Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University.
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