Fellow FW-ers, 

Here is the most coherent and intelligible defence of the
proposed military intervention in Iraq I have yet seen. Not
least among its virtues is the way Ignatieff manages to
*reconcile* the many seemingly incompatible views of the
matter of the sort regularly argued here on FW. 

Has Ignatieff got it right? Does he reconcile us as well? 
He certainly clarifies the options and I can see a
persuasive case that action is preferable to inaction. 

I insert below some extended excerpts from the piece (which
can be retrieved in toto from the NYT website) ---> 

"The Burden," The New York Times (5 January 2003)
by Michael Ignatieff 
http://www.nytimes.com/2003/01/05/magazine/05EMPIRE.html
[Anyone who wishes a formatted *.rtf version of this, let me
know.]

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

In a speech to graduating cadets at West Point in June,
President Bush declared, "America has no empire to extend or
utopia to establish."  When he spoke to veterans assembled
at the White House in November, he said: America has "no
territorial ambitions.  We don't seek an empire.  Our nation
is committed to freedom for ourselves and for others." 

Ever since George Washington warned his countrymen against
foreign entanglements, empire abroad has been seen as the
republic's permanent temptation and its potential nemesis. 
Yet what word but "empire" describes the awesome thing that
America is becoming?  It is the only nation that polices the
world through five global military commands; maintains more
than a million men and women at arms on four continents;
deploys carrier battle groups on watch in every ocean;
guarantees the survival of countries from Israel to South
Korea; drives the wheels of global trade and commerce; and
fills the hearts and minds of an entire planet with its
dreams and desires.   

A historian once remarked that Britain acquired its empire
in "a fit of absence of mind."  If Americans have an empire,
they have acquired it in a state of deep denial.  But Sept.
11 was an awakening, a moment of reckoning with the extent
of American power and the avenging hatreds it arouses. 
Americans may not have thought of the World Trade Center or
the Pentagon as the symbolic headquarters of a world empire,
but the men with the box cutters certainly did, and so do
numberless millions who cheered their terrifying exercise in
the propaganda of the deed.  

Being an imperial power, however, is more than being the
most powerful nation or just the most hated one.  It means
enforcing such order as there is in the world and doing so
in the American interest.  It means laying down the rules
America wants (on everything from markets to weapons of mass
destruction) while exempting itself from other rules (the
Kyoto Protocol on climate change and the International
Criminal Court) that go against its interest.  It also means
carrying out imperial functions in places America has
inherited from the failed empires of the 20th century -
Ottoman, British and Soviet.  In the 21st century, America
rules alone, struggling to manage the insurgent zones -
Palestine and the northwest frontier of Pakistan, to name
but two - that have proved to be the nemeses of empires
past.  

Iraq lays bare the realities of America's new role.  Iraq
itself is an imperial fiction, cobbled together at the
Versailles Peace Conference in 1919 by the French and
British and held together by force and violence since
independence.  Now an expansionist rights violator holds it
together with terror.  The United Nations lay dozing like a
dog before the fire, happy to ignore Saddam, until an
American president seized it by the scruff of the neck and
made it bark.  Multilateral solutions to the world's
problems are all very well, but they have no teeth unless
America bares its fangs.  

America's empire is not like empires of times past, built on
colonies, conquest and the white man's burden.  We are no
longer in the era of the United Fruit Company, when American
corporations needed the Marines to secure their investments
overseas.  The 21st century imperium is a new invention in
the annals of political science, an empire lite, a global
hegemony whose grace notes are free markets, human rights
and democracy, enforced by the most awesome military power
the world has ever known.  It is the imperialism of a people
who remember that their country secured its independence by
revolt against an empire, and who like to think of
themselves as the friend of freedom everywhere.  It is an
empire without consciousness of itself as such, constantly
shocked that its good intentions arouse resentment abroad. 
But that does not make it any less of an empire, with a
conviction that it alone, in Herman Melville's words, bears
"the ark of the liberties of the world." 

In this vein, the president's National Security Strategy,
announced in September, commits America to lead other
nations toward "the single sustainable model for national
success," by which he meant free markets and liberal
democracy.  This is strange rhetoric for a Texas politician
who ran for office opposing nation-building abroad and
calling for a more humble America overseas.  But Sept. 11
changed everyone, including a laconic and anti-rhetorical
president.  His messianic note may be new to him, but it is
not new to his office.  It has been present in the American
vocabulary at least since Woodrow Wilson went to Versailles
in 1919 and told the world that he wanted to make it safe
for democracy.  

Ever since Wilson, presidents have sounded the same
redemptive note while "frantically avoiding recognition of
the imperialism that we in fact exercise," as the theologian
Reinhold Niebuhr said in 1960.  Even now, as President Bush
appears to be maneuvering the country toward war with Iraq,
the deepest implication of what is happening has not been
fully faced: that Iraq is an imperial operation that would
commit a reluctant republic to become the guarantor of
peace, stability, democratization and oil supplies in a
combustible region of Islamic peoples stretching from Egypt
to Afghanistan.  A role once played by the Ottoman Empire,
then by the French and the British, will now be played by a
nation that has to ask whether in becoming an empire it
risks losing its soul as a republic.  

As the United States faces this moment of truth, John Quincy
Adams's warning of 1821 remains stark and pertinent: if
America were tempted to "become the dictatress of the world,
she would be no longer the ruler of her own spirit."  What
empires lavish abroad, they cannot spend on good republican
government at home: on hospitals or roads or schools.  A
distended military budget only aggravates America's
continuing failure to keep its egalitarian promise to
itself.  And these are not the only costs of empire. 
Detaining two American citizens without charge or access to
counsel in military brigs, maintaining illegal combatants on
a foreign island in a legal limbo, keeping lawful aliens
under permanent surveillance while deporting others after
secret hearings: these are not the actions of a republic
that lives by the rule of law but of an imperial power
reluctant to trust its own liberties.  Such actions may
still be a long way short of Roosevelt's internment of the
Japanese, but that may mean only that the worst - following,
say, another large attack on United States citizens that
produces mass casualties - is yet to come.   

The impending operation in Iraq is thus a defining moment in
America's long debate with itself about whether its overseas
role as an empire threatens or strengthens its existence as
a republic.  The American electorate, while still supporting
the president, wonders whether his proclamation of a war
without end against terrorists and tyrants may only increase
its vulnerability while endangering its liberties and its
economic health at home.  A nation that rarely counts the
cost of what it really values now must ask what the
"liberation" of Iraq is worth.  A republic that has paid a
tiny burden to maintain its empire - no more than about 4
percent of its gross domestic product - now contemplates a
bill that is altogether steeper.  Even if victory is rapid,
a war in Iraq and a postwar occupation may cost anywhere
from $120 billion to $200 billion.  

What every schoolchild also knows about empires is that they
eventually face nemeses.  To call America the new Rome is at
once to recall Rome's glory and its eventual fate at the
hands of the barbarians.  A confident and carefree republic
- the city on a hill, whose people have always believed they
are immune from history's harms - now has to confront not
just an unending imperial destiny but also a remote
possibility that seems to haunt the history of empire:
hubris followed by defeat.  

Even at this late date, it is still possible to ask: Why
should a republic take on the risks of empire?  Won't it run
a chance of endangering its identity as a free people?  The
problem is that this implies innocent options that in the
case of Iraq may no longer exist.  Iraq is not just about
whether the United States can retain its republican virtue
in a wicked world.  Virtuous disengagement is no longer a
possibility.  Since Sept. 11, it has been about whether the
republic can survive in safety at home without imperial
policing abroad.  Face to face with "evil empires" of the
past, the republic reluctantly accepted a division of the
world based on mutually assured destruction.  But now it
faces much less stable and reliable opponents - rogue states
like Iraq and North Korea with the potential to supply
weapons of mass destruction to a terrorist internationale. 
Iraq represents the first in a series of struggles to
contain the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction,
the first attempt to shut off the potential supply of lethal
technologies to a global terrorist network.   

Containment rather than war would be the better course, but
the Bush administration seems to have concluded that
containment has reached its limits - and the conclusion is
not unreasonable.  Containment is not designed to stop
production of sarin, VX nerve gas, anthrax and nuclear
weapons.  Threatened retaliation might deter Saddam from
using these weapons, but his continued development of them
increases his capacity to intimidate and deter others,
including the United States.  Already his weapons have
sharply raised the cost of any invasion, and as time goes by
this could become prohibitive... 

... Efforts to embargo and sanction the regime have hurt
only the Iraqi people.  What is left?  An inspections
program, even a permanent one, might slow the dictator's
weapons programs down, but inspections are easily evaded. 
That leaves us, but only as a reluctant last resort, with
regime change.   

Regime change is an imperial task par excellence, since it
assumes that the empire's interest has a right to trump the
sovereignty of a state.  [But] ... What moral authority
rests with a sovereign who murders and ethnically cleanses
his own people, has twice invaded neighboring countries and
usurps his people's wealth in order to build palaces and
lethal weapons? 

... 

Yet it remains a fact - as disagreeable to those left
wingers who regard American imperialism as the root of all
evil as it is to the right-wing isolationists, who believe
that the world beyond our shores is none of our business -
that there are many peoples who owe their freedom to an
exercise of American military power.  It's not just the
Japanese and the Germans, who became democrats under the
watchful eye of Generals MacArthur and Clay.  There are the
Bosnians, whose nation survived because American air power
and diplomacy forced an end to a war the Europeans couldn't
stop.  There are the Kosovars, who would still be imprisoned
in Serbia if not for Gen. Wesley Clark and the Air Force. 
The list of people whose freedom depends on American air and
ground power also includes the Afghans and, most
inconveniently of all, the Iraqis.  

The moral evaluation of empire gets complicated when one of
its benefits might be freedom for the oppressed.  Iraqi
exiles are adamant: even if the Iraqi people might be the
immediate victims of an American attack, they would also be
its ultimate beneficiaries.  It would make the case for
military intervention easier, of course, if the Iraqi exiles
cut a more impressive figure.  They feud and squabble and
hate one another nearly as much as they hate Saddam.  But
what else is to be expected from a political culture
pulverized by 40 years of state terror?  

If only invasion, and not containment, can build democracy
in Iraq, then the question becomes whether the Bush
administration actually has any real intention of doing so. 
The exiles fear that a mere change of regime, a coup in
which one Baathist thug replaces another, would suit
American interests just as well, provided the thug complied
with the interests of the Pentagon and American oil
companies.  Whenever it has exerted power overseas, America
has never been sure whether it values stability - which
means not only political stability but also the steady,
profitable flow of goods and raw materials - more than it
values its own rhetoric about democracy.  Where the two
values have collided, American power has come down heavily
on the side of stability, for example, toppling
democratically elected leaders from Mossadegh in Iran to
Allende in Chile.  Iraq is yet another test of this
choice... 

International human rights groups, like Amnesty
International, ... seem more outraged by the prospect of
action than they are by the abuses they once denounced.  The
fact that states are both late and hypocritical in their
adoption of human rights does not deprive them of the right
to use force to defend them.  

The disagreeable reality for those who believe in human
rights is that there are some occasions - and Iraq may be
one of them - when war is the only real remedy for regimes
that live by terror.  This does not mean the choice is
morally unproblematic.  The choice is one between two evils,
between containing and leaving a tyrant in place and the
targeted use of force, which will kill people but free a
nation from the tyrant's grip.  

... 

Still, the claim that a free republic may sense a duty to
help other people attain their freedom does not answer the
prudential question of whether the republic should run such
risks.  For the risks are huge, and they are imperial. 
Order, let alone democracy, will take a decade to
consolidate in Iraq...

...  Like all imperial exercises in creating order, it will
work only if the puppets the Americans install cease to be
puppets and build independent political legitimacy of their
own.  

If America takes on Iraq, it takes on the reordering of the
whole region.  It will have to stick at it through many
successive administrations.  The burden of empire is of long
duration, and democracies are impatient with long-lasting
burdens - none more so than America...  

...  The chief danger in the whole Iraqi gamble lies here -
in supposing that victory over Saddam, in the absence of a
Palestinian-Israeli settlement, would leave the United
States with a stable hegemony over the Middle East.  Absent
a Middle East peace, victory in Iraq would still leave the
Palestinians face to face with the Israelis in a conflict in
which they would destroy not only each other but American
authority in the Islamic world as well.  

The Americans have played imperial guarantor in the region
since Roosevelt met with Ibn Saud in 1945 and Truman
recognized Ben-Gurion's Israel in 1948.  But it paid little
or no price for its imperial pre-eminence until the rise of
an armed Palestinian resistance after 1987.  Now, with every
day that American power appears complicit in Israeli attacks
that kill civilians in the West Bank and in Gaza, and with
the Arab nations giving their tacit support to Palestinian
suicide bombers, the imperial guarantor finds itself dragged
into a regional conflict that is one long hemorrhage of its
diplomatic and military authority.  

Properly understood, then, the operation in Iraq entails a
commitment, so far unstated, to enforce a peace on the
Palestinians and Israelis... A successful American political
strategy against terror depends on providing enough peace
for both Israelis and Palestinians that extremists on either
side begin to lose the support that keeps violence alive.  

Paradoxically, reducing the size of the task does not reduce
the risks...  

... 

The question, then, is not whether America is too powerful
but whether it is powerful enough.  Does it have what it
takes to be grandmaster of what Colin Powell has called the
chessboard of the world's most inflammable region? 

...  

What assets does American leadership have at its disposal? 
At a time when an imperial peace in the Middle East requires
diplomats, aid workers and civilians with all the skills in
rebuilding shattered societies, American power projection in
the area overwhelmingly wears a military uniform...  In
President Kennedy's time ... the United States spent 1
percent of its G.D.P. on the nonmilitary aspects of
promoting its influence overseas - State Department, foreign
aid, the United Nations, information programs.  Under Bush's
presidency, the number has declined to just 0.2 percent.   

Special Forces are more in evidence in the world's
developing nations than Peace Corps volunteers and USAID
food experts...  Each month the United States spends an
estimated $1 billion on military operations in Afghanistan
and only $25 million on aid.  

... 

It is unsurprising that force projection overseas should
awaken resentment among America's enemies.  More troubling
is the hostility it arouses among friends, those whose
security is guaranteed by American power.  Nowhere is this
more obvious than in Europe...  

For 50 years, Europe rebuilt itself economically while
passing on the costs of its defense to the United States...  

...  Sept. 11 rubbed in the lesson that global power is
still measured by military capability.  The Europeans
discovered that they lacked the military instruments to be
taken seriously and that their erstwhile defenders, the
Americans, regarded them, in a moment of crisis, with
suspicious contempt.  

...  The Americans essentially dictate Europe's place in
this new grand design.  The United States is multilateral
when it wants to be, unilateral when it must be; and it
enforces a new division of labor in which America does the
fighting, the French, British and Germans do the police
patrols in the border zones and the Dutch, Swiss and
Scandinavians provide the humanitarian aid.  

This is a very different picture of the world than the one
entertained by liberal international lawyers and human
rights activists who had hoped to see American power
integrated into a transnational legal and economic order
organized around the United Nations, the World Trade
Organization, the International Criminal Court and other
international human rights and environmental institutions
and mechanisms.  Successive American administrations have
signed on to those pieces of the transnational legal order
that suit their purposes (the World Trade Organization, for
example) while ignoring or even sabotaging those parts (the
International Criminal Court or the Kyoto Protocol) that do
not.  A new international order is emerging, but it is
designed to suit American imperial objectives.  America's
allies want a multilateral order that will essentially
constrain American power.  But the empire will not be tied
down like Gulliver with a thousand legal strings.  

On the new imperial frontier, in places like Afghanistan,
Bosnia and Kosovo, American military power, together with
European money and humanitarian motives, is producing a form
of imperial rule for a postimperial age.  If this sounds
contradictory, it is because the impulses that have gone
into this new exercise of power are contradictory.  On the
one hand, the semiofficial ideology of the Western world -
human rights - sustains the principle of self-determination,
the right of each people to rule themselves free of outside
interference.  This was the ethical principle that inspired
the decolonization of Asia and Africa after World War II. 
Now we are living through the collapse of many of these
former colonial states.  Into the resulting vacuum of chaos
and massacre a new imperialism has reluctantly stepped -
reluctantly because these places are dangerous and because
they seemed, at least until Sept. 11, to be marginal to the
interests of the powers concerned.  But, gradually, this
reluctance has been replaced by an understanding of why
order needs to be brought to these places...  

... 

...  If there is an invasion of Iraq, local elites must be
"empowered" to take over as soon as the American imperial
forces have restored order and the European humanitarians
have rebuilt the roads, schools and houses.  Nation-building
seeks to reconcile imperial power and local
self-determination through the medium of an exit strategy. 
This is imperialism in a hurry: to spend money, to get
results, to turn the place back to the locals and get out. 
But it is similar to the old imperialism in the sense that
real power in these zones - Kosovo, Bosnia, Afghanistan and
soon, perhaps, Iraq - will remain in Washington.  

At the beginning of the first volume of The Decline and Fall
of the Roman Empire, published in 1776, Edward Gibbon
remarked that empires endure only so long as their rulers
take care not to overextend their borders...  

...  [O]verwhelming power never confers the security it
promises but also that even the overwhelmingly powerful need
friends and allies... 

...  Empires survive when they understand that diplomacy,
backed by force, is always to be preferred to force
alone...  

America will also remain vulnerable, despite its
overwhelming military power, because its primary enemy, Iraq
and North Korea notwithstanding, is not a state, susceptible
to deterrence, influence and coercion, but a shadowy cell of
fanatics who have proved that they cannot be deterred and
coerced and who have hijacked a global ideology - Islam -
that gives them a bottomless supply of recruits and allies
in a war, a war not just against America but against her
client regimes in the Islamic world.  In many countries in
that part of the world, America is caught in the middle of a
civil war raging between incompetent and authoritarian
regimes and the Islamic revolutionaries who want to return
the Arab world to the time of the prophet.  It is a civil
war between the politics of pure reaction and the politics
of the impossible, with America unfortunately aligned on the
side of reaction... 

Until Sept. 11, successive United States administrations
treated their Middle Eastern clients like gas stations. 
This was part of a larger pattern.  After 1991 and the
collapse of the Soviet empire, American presidents thought
they could have imperial domination on the cheap, ruling the
world without putting in place any new imperial architecture
- new military alliances, new legal institutions, new
international development organisms - for a postcolonial,
post-Soviet world.  

The Greeks taught the Romans to call this failure hubris. 
It was also, in the 1990's, a general failure of the
historical imagination, an inability of the post-cold-war
West to grasp that the emerging crisis of state order in so
many overlapping zones of the world - from Egypt to
Afghanistan - would eventually become a security threat at
home...  

Its solution - to create democracy in Iraq, then hopefully
roll out the same happy experiment throughout the Middle
East - is both noble and dangerous: noble because, if
successful, it will finally give these peoples the
self-determination they vainly fought for against the
empires of the past; dangerous because, if it fails, there
will be nobody left to blame but the Americans.  

...  

America's success in the 20th century owed a great deal to
the shrewd understanding that America's interest lay in
aligning itself with freedom.  Franklin Roosevelt, for
example, told his advisers at Yalta in 1945, when he was
dividing up the postwar world with Churchill and Stalin,
that there were more than a billion "brown people" living in
Asia, "ruled by a handful of whites."  They resent it, the
president mused aloud.  America's goal, he said, "must be to
help them achieve independence - 1,100,000,000 enemies are
dangerous."  

The core beliefs of our time are the creations of the
anticolonial revolt against empire: the idea that all human
beings are equal and that each human group has a right to
rule itself free of foreign interference.  It is at least
ironic that American believers in these ideas have ended up
supporting the creation of a new form of temporary colonial
tutelage for Bosnians, Kosovars and Afghans - and could for
Iraqis.  The reason is simply that, however right these
principles may be, the political form in which they are
realized - the nationalist nation-building project - so
often delivers liberated colonies straight to tyranny, as in
the case of Baath Party rule in Iraq, or straight to chaos,
as in Bosnia or Afghanistan.  For every nationalist struggle
that succeeds in giving its people self-determination and
dignity, there are more that deliver their people only up to
slaughter or terror or both.  For every Vietnam brought
about by nationalist struggle, there is a Palestinian
struggle trapped in a downward spiral of terror and military
oppression.  

The age of empire ought to have been succeeded by an age of
independent, equal and self-governing nation-states.  But
that has not come to pass.  America has inherited a world
scarred not just by the failures of empires past but also by
the failure of nationalist movements to create and secure
free states - and now, suddenly, by the desire of Islamists
to build theocratic tyrannies on the ruins of failed
nationalist dreams.   

Those who want America to remain a republic rather than
become an empire imagine rightly, but they have not factored
in what tyranny or chaos can do to vital American
interests.  The case for empire is that it has become, in a
place like Iraq, the last hope for democracy and stability
alike.  Even so, empires survive only by understanding their
limits.  Sept. 11 pitched the Islamic world into the
beginning of a long and bloody struggle to determine how it
will be ruled and by whom: the authoritarians, the Islamists
or perhaps the democrats.  America can help repress and
contain the struggle, but even though its own security
depends on the outcome, it cannot ultimately control it. 
Only a very deluded imperialist would believe otherwise.  


** Michael Ignatieff, director of the Carr Center at the
Kennedy School of Government, Harvard University, has
written recently for The Times Magazine about Bosnia and
Afghanistan.  He is a contributing writer for the magazine.

© Copyright 2003 The New York Times Company 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 



Stephen Straker 
<[EMAIL PROTECTED]>   
Vancouver, CANADA  
[Outgoing mail scanned by Norton AntiVirus]


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