The last respectable prejudice: Anti-Americanism in Australia

Ali’s account of World War II and of the beginnings of the Cold War is revealing. He ignores the brutality of the Soviets in Europe or the altruism that partly motivated the Marshall Plan. Instead, Ali writes: "The Marshall Plan and NATO were the Siamese twins designed to fight a protracted war against the old enemy." This suggestion of a constructed Soviet enemy is part of Ali’s unwillingness to point out that the Soviet Union was a real threat. Add to this his Trotskyist telling of events, and one is presented with the history of the 20th century as a tale of a US desire for war and other opportunities to further its imperialistic desires. There is no mention that for much of US history it has been reluctant to involve its armed forces in the affairs of foreign nations. Even its recent military involvement in the former Yugoslavia was the source of considerable domestic reluctance and was largely urged on by its European allies. Tariq Ali, like John Pilger, is a hero of the blame game; charging that the world has been made wicked by the imperialistic US and its client rulers. This critique is not without certain insights but, in its totality, it is the flipside of Bush’s post-September 11 comment that he was "amazed that there’s such misunderstanding of what our country is about that people would hate us … I just can’t believe it because I know how good we are." The US’s behaviour and motives are good and bad as well as a variety of shades of grey. The inability to grasp this reveals a certain blindness of habit or a distortion of the historical record.

Tariq Ali’s writings are of little help to those seeking a real understanding of the US’s complex and contradictory motivations and actions. Walter Russell Mead’s Special Providence (2001), on the other hand, is a book that offers readers a way of seeing the US in a less binary fashion. Instead of painting the US in the usual good/bad, internationalist/isolationist, imperialist/liberational modes, Mead posits that US foreign policy has been guided by four competing and ongoing traditions: the Hamiltonian, Wilsonian, Jeffersonian, and Jacksonian traditions. The Hamiltonian tradition is principally interested in commerce and the success of US enterprise. This tradition provides the US with the central understanding that what is good for corporate America is good for America as a whole. Hamiltonians believe that being involved in foreign wars is generally too costly and distracting from the more sensible goal of making money.

The Wilsonian tradition is a missionary tradition that seeks the dissemination of American ideals and values abroad. The Wilsonian tradition is a double-edged sword. On one side, it was central to providing the initiative behind the establishment of international organisations such as the League of Nations and the UN. However, it is also the source of much righteousness and moralising towards the rest of the world.

Clinton’s actions in the former Yugoslavia are often described as Wilsonian; more controversially, the toppling of the Taliban and of Saddam Hussein can be said to have Wilsonian elements to them. If we ignore or dismiss these elements, we miss an important part of the internal logic by which the US has justified these wars.

The Jeffersonian tradition emphasises the need for the US largely to avoid foreign entanglements and instead to focus on the preservation of democracy within the US. It is not entirely an isolationist tradition but wants American engagement with the world to involve the least cost and danger. Mead associates this tradition with the Monroe Doctrine and the Kellogg–Briand Pact. This can be the most radical tradition, particularly in the hands of dissidents such as Gore Vidal and Ralph Nader, but it is hard for the European left to see it as radical because of its relatively libertarian character.

Finally, there is the Jacksonian tradition, the most militaristic tradition, with its celebration of military service (often associated with southern communities) and its belief that the US should only fight wars to a victorious end. There is a brutal edge to this tradition that helps to explain the atomic strikes on Japan, US tactics in the Vietnam War and the cowboy rhetoric of the current president. This tradition has underpinned the development of the most dangerous military power ever and the search for new technologies such as a missile defence shield. There is an isolationist side to this tradition that was evident in the Bush administration’s approach to the world before September 11. The behaviour of the current administration has often been Jacksonian in character. In Mead’s view, this needs to be moderated, particularly by a revival of the Jeffersonian tradition. Mead is able to see positive and negative aspects in all four traditions, including the Jacksonian tradition. He praises the Jeffersonian tradition because of its populist attributes, which he sees as offering an important corrective to the current élitism in much of American political life.

Mead’s traditions permit a nuanced discussion about US foreign policy, and help us to deal with the contradictions between the rhetoric and reality of US foreign policy.

Broader acknowledgment of the impact and currency of these traditions would help us to regard US foreign policy in a less monolithic manner, mindful of the various historical patterns and internal conflicts.

More importantly, the US itself needs all these traditions to be strong to ensure more open political debate and to challenge Bush’s nativism. Even in the absence of robust debate within the US, I believe that its critics would do well to acknowledge the contradictory strands within the American tradition. The measured analysis of Mead’s critical and complex book provides a lucid example of how the slide into reflex anti-Americanism can be avoided when we discuss Americans or US foreign policy. Knee-jerk reactions should be suppressed, not just to avoid prejudice but also to permit an articulate engagement with the US, and also, where necessary, a reasoned reality check.