The Limits of Superpower-dom: The Costs of Principles
How Public Opinion Limits Leverage and What it Really Costs to Have a Principled Foreign Policy
Joe Biden, before taking office, did not mince words when describing his position on Saudi Arabia, “We were going to, in fact, make them pay the price, and make them, in fact, the pariah that they are,” he said in the 2019 Democratic debate. This position was a common one following the brutal killing of journalist Jamal Khashoggi in Turkey the previous year. Yet, a little over four years later, the Biden administration is considering inking its firmest commitments yet with the architects of his assassination. This raises the question: why has the United States been unable to hold the Saudis to account?
Since October 7th, attention on the Middle East has shifted from the Saudis to Israel. As Israel’s conduct in Gaza has come under increasing scrutiny, the question is raised: why doesn’t the US have greater influence over Israeli conduct? In other words, as Bill Clinton once asked, “Who's the fucking superpower here?”
Some may attribute this to a decline in America’s power. However, the narrative of “American decline” is tenuous in that there are few indications that American power—economic or military—is degrading. Rather, it is far more accurate to talk about an American retreat. The influence of a state is function not only of its power but its willingness to use it and the United States is returning to a more isolationist foreign policy. Not the utter isolation that preceded the Second World War, but something that resembles the attitude of the 1990s.
The trauma of 9/11 and the hysteria of the war on terror caused a momentary revival in public willingness to tolerate foreign adventures. After the invasion of Iraq under false-pretenses and the costly and unsuccessful occupations, the American people ran out of interest in neoconservatism adventurism. However, the demise of projects of regime change and nation building carried with it the demise of more modest forms of liberal internationalism. This is best illustrated by the case of Syria. When Bashar Al-Assad crossed an American “red line” by using chemical weapons on his own people, the response was non-existent.
It is clear that after America’s experience in the “forever wars” of Iraq and Afghanistan, any recommitment to the Middle East is politically untenable. This is all the more so in light of Russian and Chinese aggression diverting American attention to other theaters. Yet, in absolute terms, there is little doubt that the United States has the capacity to contain Russia and China while maintaining a robust presence in the Middle East. But there is nothing so much as resembling the political will for this kind of activist foreign policy. An America that can scarcely agree to supply arms to Ukraine and Taiwan lacks the leverage to dictate terms to countries like Israel and Saudi Arabia.
The limitations of public sentiment mean that America needs its partners in the Middle East more than they need it. The Saudis and Israelis will shoulder the burden of their own security if necessary and may credibly threaten to find accommodation with other powers. America is patently unwilling to be solely responsible for its interests in the Middle East. So long as that is the case, it cannot use the threat of abandoning its allies as leverage. The inability of the United States to influence its allies is therefore a choice, one made primarily by the public. An administration may choose to disregard this, but only at its own electoral peril. Thus, those who wish the United States would coerce Israel or Saudi Arabia to change their behavior must first seriously reflect on whether they would support the change in strategic posture that would be necessary to allow that. An America with more influence over Middle Eastern affairs must be one more deeply involved in them.
This can be reduced to three options for American grand strategy:
1. The US can limit its commitments abroad and accept that it has limited influence over its partners.
2. It may instead commit to a more active policy, shouldering greater costs so that it may influence the conduct of its partners to a greater extent.
3. Or it may both retreat and lean hard on its partners.
The third approach has the disadvantages of both prior options with little to commend it. It is only practical in cases in which the US has limited strategic interests involved. In these instances, the US need not commit resources and is free to stand on principle, regardless of who such actions alienate. Some of those arguing the US take such an approach to Israel-Palestine have claimed that US involvement in the Middle East is a vestige of a time when oil production mattered more than it does today. However, the effects of attacks by the Houthi rebels on shipping provides a compelling case for enduring interests in stability in the Middle East.
It is rare for anyone to admit to holding the third position outright. Rather than accept the dilemma, all-too-many retreat to the bailey of demanding the end of American involvement on moral grounds. This is in fact morally bankrupt. In the discourse regarding Israel’s actions in Gaza and the Saudis in Yemen there is deep concern about the United States being “complicit.” In this view, because America is providing weapons, it is complicit. This is a dangerous paradigm that implies the suffering and death of innocents is of no moral weight if the US is not involved. Inaction is complicity of a different—but not lesser—kind. Except in rare cases, it is this passivity that is more consequential than any sale of arms. There would be little comfort to civilians in the knowledge that the bombs that rain down upon them were not made in America.
A particularly grotesque manifestation of this bias was a spate of misinformation towards the beginning of the war in Gaza in which images and footage from the Syrian civil war were presented as the consequences of Israeli actions, prompting widespread outrage. In their original context, not only was there no substantial pressure on the Obama administration from the public to defend the Syrian people from their murderous government, there was in fact substantial pressure to keep America out of “another forever war” in the Middle East. It is clear that empathy for victims ends where American involvement does. The aim of ending American involvement is not to actually alleviate any suffering, but remove it from suffering that it is considered necessary to care about. The calls to disengage from regimes like Israel, Saudi Arabia, and Turkey without a willingness to accept the costs entailed amounts to a desire to wash one’s hands of the situation and not a serious interest in alleviating human suffering.
It is completely reasonable to feel strongly about the actions of American allies. However, it must be recognized that the ability of the United States to use its influence to right wrongs is directly proportional to the costs it is willing to bear. If the United States seeks to stand on principle in all cases without bearing these costs, it will fail to achieve any positive strategic or humanitarian effects. If the US is not willing to bear the costs of flexing its muscles, it must accept that it lacks the leverage to force allies to modify their behavior.
The beleaguered ranks of the liberal internationalists and remnants of the neoconservative movement are the most willing to accept the trade of increased American engagement and all its attending costs in exchange for influence. However, it must be recognized that this position is not tenable while public opinion opposes it. The American public’s concern for the wellbeing of foreigners tends to fade away the moment American lives are on the line. For a moralistic US foreign policy to be undertaken, the public must be swayed. A top-down approach was central to the failure of the Bush years.
It is impossible to advocate both for limiting American involvement overseas and to expect the United States to have the influence needed to force actors like Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and Israel to modify their behavior when their vital interests are at stake. Diffusing responsibility means diffusing power. If the US is to act as a superpower and moral force, there must be public support for it and all the costs that entails. Otherwise it has little choice but to follow a policy of pragmatism, even if that means moral compromise. To call for the US to take a hard-line without supporting re-engagement is worse than naïve: it is ineffective.