Dealing with the American goliath

Andrew Rawnsley Observer News Service London

Just over 10 years ago, a tremendously distinguished professor of history at Yale University shocked the rest of the inhabitants of the most powerful nation on the planet. He warned that the American Empire was destined to follow the same trajectory as the imperiums of Rome, Persia, Charlemagne, Spain, Britain and every other empire on which the sun eventually set. In his bestselling Rise and Fall of the Great Powers, Paul Kennedy forecast that the coming challenge for American leaders would be managing relative economic decline and the diminution of military might.

Well, even Ivy League professors occasionally call it wrong. And even Ivy League professors are sometimes willing to fess up as much. Since the atrocities of Sept. 11, Prof. Kennedy has adjusted his predictions. This acclaimed strategic pundit says that the fall of the American megapower "seems a long way off now". The largest naval armada assembled since 1945 currently cruises the Arabian Gulf. The decks of these warships bristle with weaponry of a sophistication and potency that no other state on Earth comes anywhere close to matching. The U.S. spends more on its forces than the next nine biggest powers put together: a global imbalance without historical precedent. And that's even before George Bush has added another US$48 billion to next year's military budget.

The challenge, it turns out, faces not America but the rest of the world. Rather than Americans having to handle decline, everyone else is faced with trying to manage this goliath. The challenge is made more severe by an American administration which, from tearing up international treaties to trampling over Geneva conventions, combines an instinct for unilateralism with absolute certainty about the justice and urgency of its mission. It's a moot kind of victory for the campaign against terrorism when Osama bin Laden is still on the loose and the CIA foresees Afghanistan spiraling into civil war.

But a great triumph it has been proclaimed in the heads of President Bush and those who are guiding him to unleash further hostilities against anyone that America identifies as her enemy. The voices of restraint in Washington are decreasing in number and influence. Colin Powell, the one American whom Europeans thought they could count on as an agent of caution in Washington, recently rang UK Foreign Secretary Jack Straw. The latter sought guidance about how the mind of the White House was developing. Powell replied with words to the effect that he had phoned because "they are more likely to tell you guys than me".

Relations between America and Europe, their oldest and most natural allies, are descending to a nadir not seen in more than half a century. EU external affairs commissioner Chris Patten lambasts the "simplistic" Bush; the French Foreign Minister scoffs at the "hyperpuissance"; the German Foreign Minister huffs about being treated as "satellites". When Americans can be bothered to listen, which is rarely, they dismiss as effete appeasement the European wincing over George Bush's blast at the "axis of evil". Americans react -- and quite understandably -- by asking who saved Europe from the evils of first Nazism, then of Stalinism. Europe fears that America has become a swaggering behemoth; the Americans despise Europe as an axis of whingers. And both are broadly right.

One European leader has set himself apart by refusing to utter a particle of public criticism of the U.S. The wider the continental drift, the further Tony Blair stretches himself to straddle the chasm. He is sticking to the strategy that he instinctively formulated in a matter of minutes following the attacks on the Twin Towers. He continues to calculate that influence over Washington is maximized by being the unswerving ally. That does not make him an unqualified admirer of this Oval Office. The intellectual capacity of Dubya is not highly rated within Downing Street. One of Blair's most influential foreign policy advisers regards George Bush as "imbecilic", a global village idiot. The Prime Minister might secretly agree. Even if he did, he sees as much point hectoring America as there is in heckling a juggernaut.

Those in his government and party who expect Blair to restrain Bush's ambitions to strike against Iraq are likely to be disappointed. The intelligence material that the British Prime Minister sees makes him genuinely disturbed -- it would not being going too far to say petrified -- about Saddam Hussein's potential capacity to use weapons of mass destruction. Blair is not against removing the Iraqi dictator. He is only concerned that the Americans produce a plan that actually works.

When the British Prime Minister talks to the American President, he does not expend effort trying to divert George Bush from a new war against Iraq. The counsel from Blair is that opinion needs to be prepared before hostilities commence. Just as he presented the case against bin Laden, the British Prime Minister offers himself to the Americans as their global spin doctor-cum ambassador, suggesting that they first need to confront the world with the evidence against Saddam.

Where there is grit in the Blair-Bush dialogue is about American willingness to be as tough on the causes of terrorism as they want to be on terrorism itself. The Prime Minister knows he is dealing with an administration scornful of the idea of "nation-building". Even then, Blair sees no gain from being in Bush's face about it. He senses that Europe's concerns aren't getting a hearing in America because Europe bleats with a voice which is both confused and hypocritical.

The European Union has a larger population than the U.S. and a bigger GDP. Europe is hugely endowed with both money and experience. It is capable -- if it had the purpose -- to be a global player on a near-par with the U.S. What is lacking is the will. As Jack Straw highlighted the other day, Europe's ability to take and implement decisions is poor. Europe asks to be treated as America's partner, but behaves like a dinner companion who always complains about the menu and will never pay its share of the bill.

Germany is still cutting an already paltry defense budget. The armies of France and Italy are, in the acid assessment of one highly- placed official within our own Foreign Office, "youth movements in uniform". Only because of the superior professionalism and resourcing of the British armed forces has Tony Blair been able to make himself an exception to America's disdain for European leaders. One of the best aspects of Blairite foreign policy was the intervention in Sierra Leone, where the democratic government was saved from murderous brigands whose speciality is cutting the limbs off small children.

When assistance was asked of the rest of Europe, the total support offered was a dozen Polish troopers. In Afghanistan, half the soldiers engaged in trying to keep the peace are British. The pathetic contribution from most of Europe makes ridiculous their complaints about American reluctance to put more of its sons and daughters on that hazardous ground. The Europeans are still squabbling over the funding of the so-called rapid reaction force, which is not going to be terribly rapid, nor much of a force.

There are evident risks in Tony Blair's approach. But it is a bit more dignified and constructive than whingeing. He has come to the correct conclusion that resentful sniping at America has no traction on the megapower. The U.S. is not going to listen to lectures from Europe about American responsibilities. Not until Europe demonstrates a much greater willingness to start addressing its own responsibilities.