William M. Knoblauch 2008-02-29
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In Dangerous Nation, Washington Post columnist and former U.S. state department employee Robert Kagan makes a compelling case for a new way to interpret the history of U.S. foreign relations. Most scholars contest that America's foreign policy up until the early twentieth century might best be described as "isolationist" in nature; a potential global power which only unleashed its global influence when threatened by two world wars and a fifty year Cold War. Kagan, conversely, argues that the United States pushed forth a foreign policy of expansion and global influence from its inception. As the book's title suggests, other nations recognized this incipient tendency in U.S. foreign policy, especially European absolutists. In a growing era of modernity and liberal democracy, monarchists were wary of both American global potential and the ideals for which they stood.
Kagan's interpretation of the past seems to hinge on his own experiences of the present. For example, on page 158, Kagan's contention that in the early 19th century's era of European revolutions, "the United States was unavoidably a protagonist in this Cold War-style global confrontation" reveals an interpretation of the past fixed solely in a modern mindset. This statement seems less surprising considering Kagan's former role in the U.S. State Department during the Reagan administration. Superimposing a Cold War framework onto a conflict revolving around monarchies, not to mention completely devoid of nuclear weapons, is bad enough. Realizing that Cold War frameworks, at least to many policy experts, are no longer relevant in today's terrorist-focused foreign policy, makes even Kagan's "modern" framework seem dated. In other words, basing one's interpretation of the past is one thing; basing it on a neo-con's experiences of the 1980s seems a little, well, one sided.
Kagan's nuanced summary of slavery's role in shaping early nineteenth century is more likely to win applauds from modern diplomatic historians. In his seventh chapter "The Foreign Policy of Slavery," Kagan takes the most pressing domestic issue of America's first seventy years and shows out it affected the outlook of foreign policy makers. Revolutionaries turned statesmen of no lesser stature that George Washington and Thomas Jefferson were quite wary of the slave uprising in Haiti--an event wholly under-appreciated by American historians--and according to Kagan (on page 185), this even produced "an acute national vulnerability that was recognized in both the North and the South." The latter of these groups were, for obvious reasons, more concerned with black uprisings, especially those in close proximities of Spanish settlements. This threat, Kagan convincingly argues, helped to influence the aggressive foreign policy of early American statesmen.
Some theoretical background would add much to Kagan's easily accessible summary of U.S. Foreign Relations. For example, he is astute to point out that George Washington's now famous warning against engaging in European "entangling alliances" simply implied staying out of the realm of European military enterprises; Washington was more concerned with westward expansion, especially the Ohio territory. Indian removal in the west prompted a whole new realm of land-based foreign policy that sea-led European Empire did not have to deal with regularly. Kagan would have been better served by noting the classics in U.S. foreign policy to actually flesh out this observation. For example, what would Frederick Jackson Turner's (now admittedly antiquated) analysis say about this early westward myopic tendency? Or, conversely, what might a borderlands methodology contribute to Kagan's overview? These criticisms are not meant to simply point out what Dangerous Nation should have addressed for criticism's sake; instead, they show an under-appreciation of foreign relation's historiography.
Race relations played a key role domestically, and Kagan hints at its influence on determining the ideas of policymakers. For example, he points out Alexander Hamilton's flirtation with the idea of freeing Venezuela from Spanish rule--a lofty goal for the young statesman. Yet, Hamilton felt confident of success in any such endeavor, either on the western border or overseas, due to a supposed "natural order" of things. Kagan chalks this up to a liberal-enlightenment worldview, supposedly one best characterized by the influence of Adam Smith's invisible hand (an idea that permeated America's entire worldview in the late 18th and early 19th century, not just its economics). But could racism have had more influence on Hamilton's view of the Spanish instead of his seemingly natural gift for cockiness? Put another way, Hamilton, along with John Adams, supported the abolition of slavery even before the revolution. Yet, how stratified were these men's racial ideas, and to what degree did they influence foreign policy ideas? Kagan does recognize that Hamilton, the Anglophile, scoffed at the idea of serious Spanish resistance. In Hamilton's contradictions, other scholars might have looked past a Cold War paradigm to see the complexities that race might have played in nascent U.S. foreign policy.
Kagan's neglect of nuanced analysis clouds his entire investigation, and his sweeping conclusions illustrate the most glaring mistakes of this otherwise well-written book. For example, his myopic fixation on the privileged men who shaped the foreign policy of early America only hints at the social and environmental issues which might have played a greater role in American foreign policy. In other words, Kagan's single-minded expansionist paradigm backed by a basic understanding of modernity-led self-assuredness, only provide part of a much greater historical reality. Realities of geography with regard to the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans as the greatest barrier of European hostility are under-appreciated; realities of private industries in influencing government decisions; realities of racism, economic peaks and crashes, social and intellectual thought, all are underrepresented in what seems to be a book intent on reviving American historical consensus. In other words, Kagan's book seems to make unforgiving arguments for the sanctity of American actions both at home and abroad, and for this reason--combined with a lack of academic nuance--it reads like a former government official endorsing his nation's actions...which, of course, it is.
The most glaring omission of this monograph: where is William Appleman William's in this analysis? Arguably the most influential historian of U.S. Foreign Relations of the past century, Williams' analyses, both in The Contours of American History and in The Tragedy of American Diplomacy beg to be included in Kagan's methodology. Admittedly, the latter of these works only skirts into an investigation of the late 19th century (opting instead to focus on the early twentieth century). That being said, Kagan's book hinges on understanding American ideology, especially through the lens of enlightenment liberalism. This lens is exactly what Williams' examined ad nauseum in his works on diplomacy he influence of a liberal economic weltanschauung, even if Kagan choses not to agree with, should not go unnoticed by any scholar of nineteenth century U.S. diplomacy. It is because of this glaring omission, Kagan risks losing his credibility both in the academy and in government diplomatic circles.