.
Once upon a time there was the barnstormer. Performances by these air acrobats were popular attractions in America early in the last century. The barnstormer would stand on the wings of the airplane, holding on with his feet while the airplane flipped and dove and rotated. The most impressive trick of all was the "leap" from one plane to another in midair. In truth the main thing was to keep one’s foot securely on the wing of one plane until the other foot was placed safely on the other.

It is useful to think of the barnstormer with respect to the Obama administration’s “pivot” to Asia policy. Its presentation has been skillful, gradual and, so far, successful. It has not resulted in widespread cries of panic in Europe or in challenges from Asia, namely from China, despite some grumbling here and there. In the language of the president and the Secretary of State, it has sounded sensible, deliberate, prudent, thoughtful and, above, all, realistic.

A few critics have suggested that the US may not be able to put its money where its mouth is, but this remains to be seen. As declaratory policy, at least, it appears to check all the right boxes: it tells America’s allies in that region that they are being heard; it extends America’s traditional Open Door policy to Asia as a whole, and invites China to take part in it while implying that the costs of opposing it would outweigh the benefits; and it offers to the Asia-Pacific region the vision of a stable, peaceful future along the lines of the Atlantic Community that succeeded in the second half of the twentieth century — with open markets, liberal politics and, someday, collective security. Finally, it does all this in the context of constrained budgets, which says to both domestic and foreign audiences: this is the best deal we can all get in the circumstances.

So far so good. But the question remains, Has the policy been thought fully through? Or is the U.S. jumping from one airplane to another with two loose feet? A quick survey of Europe and the Middle East fails to dispel the latter image. There is also unfortunate usage of the word “pivot.” Pivot is a nice verb but the noun's connotations are all wrong because they recall the old “Pivot of History” dogma of Sir Halford Mackinder and like-minded imperialists who cast the world's powers as perennial rivals. As was said at the time of NATO enlargement, going back to a pre-World War I model of international relations is the last thing the U.S. and its closest allies ought to promote. Talk of chessboards and geopolitics and the Great Games was as unnecessary and unhelpful in the 1990s as it is now.

Otherwise we all ought to jump on the new bandwagon. Except that the old bandwagon — or airplane, to continue the metaphor — called the Atlantic Alliance needs commitment, reaffirmation, and reassurance. They are not necessarily identical with self-help. The same is true in the Middle East and North Africa as several countries there undergo a period of great instability and change that could leave an important legacy for the next few generations. As in Europe next door, the people of these regions are looking to themselves to make their own future. But the twentieth century, especially its second half, shows that both anchors and beacons of peace and prosperity are desirable, even essential, to bolster the aspirations and determination of those who risk so much to achieve positive change. This was, after all, the whole premise of the promoters of NATO, as well as EU, enlargement little more than a decade ago. Yet few of them would say that this mission has been accomplished irreversibly in Europe today, let alone to its East or South.

Like the barnstormer, the idea of collective security reached a peak of popularity in the early interwar years. Its main premise was that security is indivisible. This is no less true today; in fact, we could say that it is even more compelling so long as we take seriously the fact and implications of globalization. So, why is it necessary to popularize hierarchies, and the importance of some regions over others? Policy choices are always necessary and important. But what about the deeper choice between interrelationships — of nations, regions, challenges, and threats — and the subjective worldviews of leaders and governments? That is, the choice between the world we think we know, or seek, and the realization that not everyone, everywhere understands trends in precisely the same way.

Few Americans were so presumptuous in 1912 to announce that the twentieth century would be an “Atlantic” one. Those who are so certain now about a Pacific Century may find that it does not play out as predictably as they expect—however dynamic Asia continues, and promises, to be. It may be wise, therefore, to ask that simple question — have we thought this fully through? — just a few more times. Before it is too late.

About
Kenneth Weisbrode
:
Kenneth Weisbrode is a writer and historian. His latest book (with James E. Goodby) is Practical Lessons from U.S. Foreign Policy: The Itinerant Years.
The views presented in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily represent the views of any other organization.

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Pivots: Forward, Backward, and Sideways

January 12, 2012

Once upon a time there was the barnstormer. Performances by these air acrobats were popular attractions in America early in the last century. The barnstormer would stand on the wings of the airplane, holding on with his feet while the airplane flipped and dove and rotated. The most impressive trick of all was the "leap" from one plane to another in midair. In truth the main thing was to keep one’s foot securely on the wing of one plane until the other foot was placed safely on the other.

It is useful to think of the barnstormer with respect to the Obama administration’s “pivot” to Asia policy. Its presentation has been skillful, gradual and, so far, successful. It has not resulted in widespread cries of panic in Europe or in challenges from Asia, namely from China, despite some grumbling here and there. In the language of the president and the Secretary of State, it has sounded sensible, deliberate, prudent, thoughtful and, above, all, realistic.

A few critics have suggested that the US may not be able to put its money where its mouth is, but this remains to be seen. As declaratory policy, at least, it appears to check all the right boxes: it tells America’s allies in that region that they are being heard; it extends America’s traditional Open Door policy to Asia as a whole, and invites China to take part in it while implying that the costs of opposing it would outweigh the benefits; and it offers to the Asia-Pacific region the vision of a stable, peaceful future along the lines of the Atlantic Community that succeeded in the second half of the twentieth century — with open markets, liberal politics and, someday, collective security. Finally, it does all this in the context of constrained budgets, which says to both domestic and foreign audiences: this is the best deal we can all get in the circumstances.

So far so good. But the question remains, Has the policy been thought fully through? Or is the U.S. jumping from one airplane to another with two loose feet? A quick survey of Europe and the Middle East fails to dispel the latter image. There is also unfortunate usage of the word “pivot.” Pivot is a nice verb but the noun's connotations are all wrong because they recall the old “Pivot of History” dogma of Sir Halford Mackinder and like-minded imperialists who cast the world's powers as perennial rivals. As was said at the time of NATO enlargement, going back to a pre-World War I model of international relations is the last thing the U.S. and its closest allies ought to promote. Talk of chessboards and geopolitics and the Great Games was as unnecessary and unhelpful in the 1990s as it is now.

Otherwise we all ought to jump on the new bandwagon. Except that the old bandwagon — or airplane, to continue the metaphor — called the Atlantic Alliance needs commitment, reaffirmation, and reassurance. They are not necessarily identical with self-help. The same is true in the Middle East and North Africa as several countries there undergo a period of great instability and change that could leave an important legacy for the next few generations. As in Europe next door, the people of these regions are looking to themselves to make their own future. But the twentieth century, especially its second half, shows that both anchors and beacons of peace and prosperity are desirable, even essential, to bolster the aspirations and determination of those who risk so much to achieve positive change. This was, after all, the whole premise of the promoters of NATO, as well as EU, enlargement little more than a decade ago. Yet few of them would say that this mission has been accomplished irreversibly in Europe today, let alone to its East or South.

Like the barnstormer, the idea of collective security reached a peak of popularity in the early interwar years. Its main premise was that security is indivisible. This is no less true today; in fact, we could say that it is even more compelling so long as we take seriously the fact and implications of globalization. So, why is it necessary to popularize hierarchies, and the importance of some regions over others? Policy choices are always necessary and important. But what about the deeper choice between interrelationships — of nations, regions, challenges, and threats — and the subjective worldviews of leaders and governments? That is, the choice between the world we think we know, or seek, and the realization that not everyone, everywhere understands trends in precisely the same way.

Few Americans were so presumptuous in 1912 to announce that the twentieth century would be an “Atlantic” one. Those who are so certain now about a Pacific Century may find that it does not play out as predictably as they expect—however dynamic Asia continues, and promises, to be. It may be wise, therefore, to ask that simple question — have we thought this fully through? — just a few more times. Before it is too late.

About
Kenneth Weisbrode
:
Kenneth Weisbrode is a writer and historian. His latest book (with James E. Goodby) is Practical Lessons from U.S. Foreign Policy: The Itinerant Years.
The views presented in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily represent the views of any other organization.