America the Unpopular
Harold's List
By DAVID IGNATIUS
The Washington Post
September 23, 2005
CAIRO -- For a people who want to be loved as much as Americans do, these are trying times. People around the world see America's troubles in Iraq and say we had it coming. They hear Americans talk about Arab democracy and think we're trying to steal their oil. Some even take a kind of perverse satisfaction when they see us battered by hurricanes.
Other great nations through history have done a better job of being disliked. The British during their days of empire treated the rest of the world with a cool imperial disdain. The French under Charles de Gaulle regarded haughtiness as a national virtue. The Russians were brutally indifferent, the Chinese politely so. All these powers in their moments of greatness treated the rest of the world as quasi-barbarians. If they were hated in return, so what?
Indifference is not an American trait. Part of the Benjamin Franklin heritage of industry and self-improvement is that Americans want to be admired, applauded -- and yes, loved. When we discover that we are in fact deeply unpopular in many parts of the world, we think we must have a communications problem. So the call goes out for Karen Hughes and the public diplomacy specialists.
I've had a lesson in our unpopularity in Egypt, where I've been hearing anti-American broadsides from activists who should be thanking the Bush administration for its pro-democracy stance. These are people who, but for the administration's pressure over the last few years on Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak, might well be in prison. But do they appreciate Bush's help? Not on your life.
Take the pro-democracy speech here in June by Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. She told an audience at the American University in Cairo that the administration was breaking with a 60-year policy that "pursued stability at the expense of democracy," and choosing instead to support democratic activists even when they challenged pro-U.S. rulers such as Mubarak. But the Egyptians remained dubious, to put it mildly.
"The United States doesn't want freedom for Arab people," insisted Ali Abdel Fatah, a leader of the Muslim Brotherhood. When I asked him about Ms. Rice's speech, he said America wanted democracy only as an "artistic decoration," because truly free elections would threaten Israeli and American interests. A similar sentiment was expressed by Amin Soliman Eskander, a cofounder of the pro-democracy group, Kifaya. "I don't find U.S. policies credible," he said when I asked him about Ms. Rice's speech. As for American help, he said no thanks. "If the U.S. supported Kifaya, we would lose credibility on the Egyptian street."
The Bush administration might do better in this part of the world if it accepted its unpopularity. Especially in Iraq. Most Iraqis were profoundly grateful that America toppled Saddam Hussein in April 2003, but that doesn't mean they like being occupied. The average Iraqi experiences U.S. occupation as a daily humiliation.
The potency of this anti-Americanism means that the U.S. can't solve problems in Iraq by sending in more troops. A bigger U.S. footprint would only increase Iraqi anger and fuel the insurgency. In contrast, fewer American troops may actually make it easier to stabilize the country, if the U.S. can help the Iraqis create a strong military and government of their own. America may be having trouble defeating Abu Musab Zarqawi, but the Iraqis won't. The moment they forge a real national government, Zarqawi is a dead man.
Realists are always quoting Machiavelli's admonition that it is better to be feared than loved, but that advice never seems to resonate very well with American presidents. They want to be feared and loved. Perhaps under our system, politicians become addicted to love. But in a world where the U.S. is the only superpower, the reality is that it will be unpopular. Nobody is going to root for Goliath -- even a nice, democratic Goliath.
Once Americans learn to accept our unlovableness, it may be easier to craft a foreign policy that puts America's interests first, and makes the country as secure and prosperous as possible. We will never convince the rest of the world that we aren't doing that anyway, no matter what we say.
By DAVID IGNATIUS
The Washington Post
September 23, 2005
CAIRO -- For a people who want to be loved as much as Americans do, these are trying times. People around the world see America's troubles in Iraq and say we had it coming. They hear Americans talk about Arab democracy and think we're trying to steal their oil. Some even take a kind of perverse satisfaction when they see us battered by hurricanes.
Other great nations through history have done a better job of being disliked. The British during their days of empire treated the rest of the world with a cool imperial disdain. The French under Charles de Gaulle regarded haughtiness as a national virtue. The Russians were brutally indifferent, the Chinese politely so. All these powers in their moments of greatness treated the rest of the world as quasi-barbarians. If they were hated in return, so what?
Indifference is not an American trait. Part of the Benjamin Franklin heritage of industry and self-improvement is that Americans want to be admired, applauded -- and yes, loved. When we discover that we are in fact deeply unpopular in many parts of the world, we think we must have a communications problem. So the call goes out for Karen Hughes and the public diplomacy specialists.
I've had a lesson in our unpopularity in Egypt, where I've been hearing anti-American broadsides from activists who should be thanking the Bush administration for its pro-democracy stance. These are people who, but for the administration's pressure over the last few years on Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak, might well be in prison. But do they appreciate Bush's help? Not on your life.
Take the pro-democracy speech here in June by Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. She told an audience at the American University in Cairo that the administration was breaking with a 60-year policy that "pursued stability at the expense of democracy," and choosing instead to support democratic activists even when they challenged pro-U.S. rulers such as Mubarak. But the Egyptians remained dubious, to put it mildly.
"The United States doesn't want freedom for Arab people," insisted Ali Abdel Fatah, a leader of the Muslim Brotherhood. When I asked him about Ms. Rice's speech, he said America wanted democracy only as an "artistic decoration," because truly free elections would threaten Israeli and American interests. A similar sentiment was expressed by Amin Soliman Eskander, a cofounder of the pro-democracy group, Kifaya. "I don't find U.S. policies credible," he said when I asked him about Ms. Rice's speech. As for American help, he said no thanks. "If the U.S. supported Kifaya, we would lose credibility on the Egyptian street."
The Bush administration might do better in this part of the world if it accepted its unpopularity. Especially in Iraq. Most Iraqis were profoundly grateful that America toppled Saddam Hussein in April 2003, but that doesn't mean they like being occupied. The average Iraqi experiences U.S. occupation as a daily humiliation.
The potency of this anti-Americanism means that the U.S. can't solve problems in Iraq by sending in more troops. A bigger U.S. footprint would only increase Iraqi anger and fuel the insurgency. In contrast, fewer American troops may actually make it easier to stabilize the country, if the U.S. can help the Iraqis create a strong military and government of their own. America may be having trouble defeating Abu Musab Zarqawi, but the Iraqis won't. The moment they forge a real national government, Zarqawi is a dead man.
Realists are always quoting Machiavelli's admonition that it is better to be feared than loved, but that advice never seems to resonate very well with American presidents. They want to be feared and loved. Perhaps under our system, politicians become addicted to love. But in a world where the U.S. is the only superpower, the reality is that it will be unpopular. Nobody is going to root for Goliath -- even a nice, democratic Goliath.
Once Americans learn to accept our unlovableness, it may be easier to craft a foreign policy that puts America's interests first, and makes the country as secure and prosperous as possible. We will never convince the rest of the world that we aren't doing that anyway, no matter what we say.
posted by Marko at 9/23/2005 12:57:00 PM
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