We can’t have more of the same: The very real dangers of Hillary Clinton’s foreign policy
Trump may well be dangerous. But know what you’re getting with Hillary: American hegemony that’s hated worldwide
Just what we needed: another foreign policy speech from Candidate Clinton. This one arrived last Thursday in San Diego—well-chosen ground, given the Navy’s immense base on the city’s shore and the Marine Expeditionary Force garrisoned at Camp Pendleton. It has a long military tradition, San Diego, and the projection of American power is what drives the local economy. Perfect for Clinton. Her speech to this crew-cutted, right-wing town was, of course, “major”—as all of her speeches on the foreign side cannot help but be.
Clinton’s people advised the press beforehand that, major or not, this presentation was not intended to break any new ground—no new positions, no new policy initiatives or ideas. This hardly had to be explained, of course: Hillary Clinton has no new ideas on American foreign policy. That is not her product. Clinton sells continuity, more of the same only more of it because it is so good. In continuity we are supposed to find safety, certainty and security.
I do not find any such things in the idea that our foreign policy cliques under a Clinton administration will simply keep doing what they have been doing for many decades. The thought frightens me, and I do not say this for mere effect. In my estimation, and it is no more than that, the world is approaching maximum tolerance of America’s post–Cold War insistence on hegemony. As regular readers will know, this is why I stand among those who consider Clinton’s foreign policy thinking, borne out by the record, the most dangerous thing about her. And there are many of us, by the evidence.
Nominally, as advertised in the advancers published before Clinton spoke, Clinton’s speech was a rolling barrage against Donald Trump’s various assertions on foreign policy questions. It was that. She hacked into Trump’s “America First” stance and a few of his specific positions. But I question whether this was her true point. I find evidence in her remarks to suggest Clinton’s more fundamental intent was to counter all the talk of “Hillary the hawk” and “Killary.” It is catching up on her; the givenness to invasions, bombing campaigns, “regime change” and conjured-from-nothing hostility may well prove a serious burden as she tries to line up the Sanders people—that vast segment of the Democratic Party she has so thoroughly alienated—behind her.
Clinton’s tactic was to go long on her claim to gravitas. She is for a “smart and principled” foreign policy that preserves American primacy. She favors maintaining Washington’s network of global alliances—with friends, clients and those in between—and avoiding any temptation to lapse into isolation. She spoke in such terms as “the stakes in global statecraft” to evoke complexities that only a closed coterie of mandarins could possibly understand. Interestingly, she promised to reduce income inequality at home and rebuild domestic infrastructure, which is fine, but note why: We must do these things because America cannot lead the rest of world if its own people are falling down holes.
“I’m going to keep American security at the heart of my campaign,” Clinton asserted. Just the thing in a military town, of course. And Clinton’s people are right to surmise that global disorder is starting to get on many American voters’ nerves.
On offer in San Diego, then, was a comforting—if this is your flavor—defense of “the bipartisan pillars of American diplomacy that every president has adhered to since World War II,” as The New York Times put it in last Thursday’s editions.
Wow. That is a rich phrase. It seems intended to confer some historical legitimacy on the Clinton record, some foreign policy lineage, and to arouse in us some confidence in the tried-and-true of our nearby ancestors—nostalgia, even, for the supposed wisdom of our supposedly “greatest generation.” People who listen to too much NPR will buy into this as “sensible.” But it requires exploration beyond this kind of dim silliness, surely.
One, we have suffered as against benefited from bipartisan consensus in the foreign policy sphere since 1945. Even the Democrats’ very late opposition to the Vietnam War was rooted not in its immorality, racism, inhumanity and illegality but in the judgment that we could not win it.
One can say now that foreign policy thinking in Washington is ossified only by risking the assumption that anyone is doing any serious thinking. In consequence, there are no alternative perspectives in the foreign policy space. People who entertain them can generally forget about eating lunch in our nation’s capital. There is no comfort to be found in this. It is, rather, the source of very large problems—problems Clinton effectively proposes to prolong rather than address.
Two, continuity in American foreign policy is the last thing Americans need now for a few reasons.
It is time now to recognize that the incessant crises that rattle our window sashes ever more loudly result often—though not always, of course—from the global ambitions American policies express. We Americans ought to travel more for the sake of seeing more clearly. Polls in Europe and elsewhere taken by Pew and other such organizations show that majorities in many places identify America as the primary cause of global disorder. Hillary Clinton is a million miles from grasping this point.
Finally, she is equally far from acknowledging the intimate connections between foreign and domestic policy. She has no intention of reversing the flow of power to the military within the policy-planning elites and no intention of challenging the Pentagon’s voracious appropriation of the resources needed to underwrite even a domestic program as pitifully modest as hers. A little more philosophically, when are we Americans going to wake up to the fact that the violence-as-first-resort now embedded in our foreign policy process cannot be understood separately from the violence that plagues us at home? Do these two not arise from the same culture—our unconscious but prevalent belief in “regeneration through violence,” as Richard Slotkin titled his examination of the phenom back in the 1970s?
There are times in history when the continuity card is the right one to play. As a value, continuity cannot be judged except in historical context, which ought to be obvious. Hillary Clinton now flings this card face-up on the table. It is a lurch rightward, which can surprise us in only one way: Wasn’t she going to wait at least until Sanders exited stage left?