The Demolition of U.S. Global Power
Donald Trump’s Road to Debacle in
the Greater Middle East
By
Alfred W. McCoy
July
17, 2017 "Information
Clearing House"
- The superhighway to disaster is already being
paved.
From
Donald Trump’s first days in office, news of the
damage to America’s international stature has
come hard and fast. As if guided by some malign
design, the new president seemed to identify the
key pillars that have supported U.S. global
power for the past 70 years and set out to
topple each of them in turn. By degrading NATO,
alienating Asian allies, cancelling trade
treaties, and slashing critical scientific
research, the Trump White House is already in
the process of demolishing the delicately
balanced architecture that has sustained
Washington’s world leadership since the end of
World War II. However unwittingly, Trump is
ensuring the accelerated collapse of American
global hegemony.
Stunned
by his succession of foreign policy blunders,
commentators -- left and right, domestic and
foreign -- have raised their voices in a
veritable chorus of criticism. A Los Angeles
Times editorial typically
called him “so
unpredictable, so reckless, so petulant, so full
of blind self-regard, so untethered to reality”
that he threatened to “weaken this country’s
moral standing in the world” and “imperil the
planet” through his “appalling” policy
choices. “He’s a sucker who’s shrinking U.S.
influence in [Asia] and helping make China great
again,”
wrote
New York Times columnist Thomas
Friedman after surveying the damage to the
country’s Asian alliances from the president’s
“decision to tear up the 12-nation Trans-Pacific
Partnership free-trade deal in his first week in
office.”
The
international press has been no less harsh.
Reeling from Trump’s denunciation of South
Korea’s free-trade agreement as “horrible” and
his bizarre claim that the country had once been
“a part of China,” Seoul’s leading newspaper,
Chosun Ilbo,
expressed the
“shock, betrayal, and anger many South Koreans
have felt.” Assessing his first 100 days in
office, Britain’s venerable Observer
commented:
“Trump’s crudely intimidatory, violent,
know-nothing approach to sensitive international
issues has encircled the globe from Moscow to
the Middle East to Beijing, plunging foes and
allies alike into a dark vortex of expanding
strategic instability.”
For an
American president to virtually walk out of his
grand inaugural celebrations into such a
hailstorm of criticism is beyond extraordinary.
Having more or less exhausted their lexicon of
condemnatory rhetoric, the usual crew of
commentators is now struggling to understand how
an American president could be quite so
willfully self-destructive.
Britain’s Suez Crisis
Blitzed
by an incessant stream of bizarre tweets and
White House conspiracy theories, observers
worldwide seem to have concluded that Donald
Trump is a president like no other, that the
situation he’s creating is without parallel, and
that his foreign policy is already a disaster
without precedent. After rummaging around in
history’s capacious closet for some old suit
that might fit him, analysts have failed to find
any antecedent or analogue to adequately explain
him.
Yet
just 60 years ago, a crisis in the ever-volatile
Middle East overseen by a bumbling,
mistake-prone British leader helped create a
great power debacle that offers insight into the
Trumpian moment, a glimpse into possible
futures, and a sense of the kind of decline that
could lie in the imperial future of the United
States.
In the
early 1950s, Britain’s international position
had many parallels with America’s today. After a
difficult postwar recovery from the devastation
of World War II, that country was enjoying
robust employment, lucrative international
investments, and the prestige of the pound
sterling’s stature as the world’s reserve
currency. Thanks to a careful withdrawal from
its far-flung, global empire and its close
alliance with Washington, London still enjoyed a
sense of international influence exceptional for
a small island nation of just 50 million people.
On balance, Britain seemed poised for many more
years of world leadership with all the
accompanying economic rewards and perks.
Then
came the Suez crisis. After a decade of giving
up one colony after another, the accumulated
stress of imperial retreat pushed British
conservatives into a disastrous military
intervention to reclaim Egypt’s Suez Canal.
This, in turn,
caused a “deep
moral crisis in London” and what one British
diplomat
would term the
“dying convulsion of British imperialism.” In a
clear instance of what historians
call
“micro-militarism” -- that is, a bold military
strike designed to recover fading imperial
influence -- Britain joined France and Israel in
a misbegotten military invasion of Egypt that
transformed slow imperial retreat into a
precipitous collapse.
Just as
the Panama Canal had once been a shining example
for Americans of their nation’s global prowess,
so British conservatives treasured the Suez
Canal as a vital lifeline that tied their small
island to its sprawling empire in Asia and
Africa. A few years after the canal’s grand
opening in 1869, London did the deal of the
century,
scooping up
Egypt’s shares in it for a bargain basement
price of £4 million. Then, in 1882, Britain
consolidated its control over the canal through
a military occupation of Egypt, reducing that
ancient land to little more than an informal
colony.
As late
as 1950, in fact, Britain still maintained
80,000 soldiers and a string of military bases
astride the canal. The bulk of its oil and
gasoline, produced at the enormous Abadan
refinery in the Persian Gulf, transited through
Suez, fueling its navy, its domestic
transportation system, and much of its industry.
After
British troops completed a negotiated withdrawal
from Suez in 1955, the charismatic nationalist
leader Gamal Abdel Nasser asserted Egypt’s
neutrality in the Cold War by purchasing Soviet
bloc arms, raising eyebrows in Washington. In
July 1956, after the administration of President
Dwight Eisenhower had in response
reneged on its promise to finance
construction of the Aswan High Dam on the Upper
Nile, Nasser sought alternative financing for
this critical infrastructure by nationalizing
the Suez Canal. In doing so, he
electrified the
Arab world and
elevated
himself to the top rank of world leaders.
Although British ships still passed freely
through the canal and Washington insisted on a
diplomatic resolution of the conflict, Britain’s
conservative leadership reacted with
irrational
outrage. Behind a smokescreen of
sham diplomacy
designed to deceive Washington, their closest
ally, the British foreign secretary
met secretly
with the prime ministers of France and Israel
near Paris to work out an elaborately deceptive
two-stage invasion of Egypt by 250,000 allied
troops, backed by 500 aircraft and 130
warships. Its aim, of course, was to secure the
canal.
On
October 29, 1956, the Israeli army led by the
dashing General Moshe Dayan swept across the
Sinai Peninsula, destroying Egyptian tanks and
bringing his troops to within 10 miles of the
canal. Using this fighting as a pretext for an
intervention to restore peace, Anglo-French
amphibious and airborne forces quickly joined
the attack, backed by a devastating bombardment
from six aircraft carriers that destroyed the
Egyptian air force, including
over a hundred
of its new MiG jet fighters. As Egypt’s military
collapsed with some 3,000 of its troops killed
and 30,000 captured, Nasser deployed a defense
brilliant in its simplicity by scuttling dozens
of rusting cargo ships filled with rocks and
concrete at the entrance to the Suez Canal. In
this way, he closed Europe’s oil lifeline to the
Persian Gulf.
Simultaneously, U.N. Secretary General Dag
Hammarskjöld, backed by Washington, imposed a
cease-fire after just nine days of war, stopping
the Anglo-French attack far short of capturing
the entire canal. President Eisenhower’s blunt
refusal to back his allies with either oil or
money and the threat of condemnation before the
U.N. soon forced Britain into a humiliating
withdrawal. With its finances collapsing from
the invasion’s soaring costs, the British
government could not maintain the pound’s
official exchange rate, degrading its stature as
a global reserve currency.
The
author of this extraordinary debacle was Sir
Anthony Eden, a problematic prime minister whose
career offers some striking parallels with
Donald Trump’s. Born into privilege as the son
of a landholder, Eden enjoyed a good education
at a private school and an elite university.
After inheriting a substantial fortune from his
father, he entered politics as a conservative,
using his political connections to dabble in
finance. Chafing under Winston Churchill’s
postwar leadership of the Conservative Party,
Eden, who styled himself a rebel against
hidebound institutions, used
incessant infighting
and his handsome
head of hair
to push the great man aside and become prime
minister in 1955.
When
Nasser nationalized the canal, Eden erupted with
egotism, bluster, and outrage. “What's all this
nonsense about isolating Nasser,” Eden
berated
his foreign affairs minister. “I want him
destroyed, can't you understand? I want him
murdered, and if you and the Foreign Office
don't agree, then you'd better come to the
cabinet and explain why." Convinced that Britain
was still the globe’s great power, Eden rejected
sound advice that he consult fully with
Washington, the country’s closest ally. As his
bold intervention plunged toward diplomatic
disaster, the prime minister became focused on
manipulating the British media, in the process
confusing favorable domestic coverage with
international support.
When
Washington
demanded a ceasefire
as the price of a billion-dollar bailout for a
British economy unable to sustain such a costly
war, Eden’s bluster quickly crumbled and he
denied his troops a certain victory, arousing a
storm of protest in Parliament. Humiliated by
the forced withdrawal, Eden compensated
psychologically by
ordering MI-6,
Britain’s equivalent of the CIA, to launch its
second ill-fated assassination attempt on
Nasser. Since its chief local agent was actually
a
double-agent
loyal to Nasser, Egyptian security had, however,
already rounded up the British operatives and
the weapons delivered for the contract killers
proved duds.
Confronted with a barrage of angry questions in
Parliament about his collusion with the
Israelis, Eden
lied repeatedly,
swearing that there was no “foreknowledge that
Israel would attack Egypt.” Protesters
denounced him
as “too stupid to be a prime minister,”
opposition members of parliament
laughed
openly when he appeared before Parliament, and
his own foreign affairs minister damned him as
“an enraged elephant charging senselessly at...
imaginary enemies."
Just
weeks after the last British soldier left Egypt,
Eden, discredited and disgraced, was forced to
resign
after only 21 months in office. Led into this
unimaginably misbegotten operation by his
delusions of omnipotence, he left the
once-mighty British lion a toothless circus
animal that would henceforth roll over whenever
Washington cracked the whip.
Trump’s Demolition Job
Despite
the obvious differences in their economic
circumstances, there remain some telling
resonances between Britain’s postwar politics
and America’s troubles today. Both of these
fading global hegemons suffered a slow erosion
of economic power in a fast-changing world,
producing severe social tensions and stunted
political leaders. Britain’s Conservative Party
leadership had declined from
the skilled diplomacy of Disraeli, Salisbury,
and Churchill to Eden’s bluster and blunder.
Similarly, the Republican Party has descended
from the likes of Teddy Roosevelt, Eisenhower,
and
George H.W. Bush
to a field of 17 primary candidates in 2016 who
promised to resolve an infinitely complex crisis
in the Middle East through a set of incendiary
policies that included making desert sands
glow from
carpet-bombing and forcing terrorists to
capitulate through
torture.
Confronted with daunting international
challenges, the voters of both countries
supported appealing but unstable leaders whose
delusions of omnipotence inclined them to
military misadventures.
Like
British citizens of the 1950s, most Americans
today do not fully grasp the fragility of their
status as “the leader of the free world.”
Indeed, Washington has been standing
astride the globe as a superpower for so long
that most of its leaders have almost no
understanding of the delicate design of their
country’s global power built so carefully by two
post-World War II presidents.
Under
Democratic President Harry Truman, Congress
created the key instruments for Washington’s
emerging national security state and its future
global dominion by passing the National Security
Act of 1947 that established the Air Force, the
CIA, and two new executive agencies, the Defense
Department and the National Security Council. To
rebuild a devastated, war-torn Europe,
Washington launched the Marshall Plan and then
turned such thinking into a worldwide aid
program through the U.S. Agency for
International Development meant to embed
American power globally and support pro-American
elites across the planet. Under Truman as well,
U.S. diplomats forged the NATO alliance (which
Washington would dominate until the Trump
moment), advanced European unity, and signed a
parallel string of mutual-defense treaties with
key Asian allies along the Pacific littoral,
making Washington the first power in two
millennia to
control
both “axial ends” of the strategic Eurasian
continent.
During
the 1950s, Republican President Dwight
Eisenhower deployed this national security
apparatus to secure Washington’s global dominion
with a nuclear triad (bombers, ballistic
missiles, and submarines), a
chain of military bases
that ringed Eurasia, and a
staggering number
of highly militarized covert operations to
assure the ascent of loyal allies worldwide.
Above all, he oversaw the integration of the
latest in scientific and technological research
into the Pentagon’s weapons procurement system
through the forging of the famed
“military-industrial complex” (against which he
would end up
warning Americans
as he left office in 1961). All this, in turn,
fostered an aura of American power so formidable
that Washington could re-order significant parts
of the world almost at will, enforcing peace,
setting the international agenda, and
toppling governments
on four continents.
While
it’s reasonable to argue that Washington had by
then become history’s greatest global power, its
hegemony, like that of all the world empires
that preceded it, remained surprisingly fragile.
Skilled leadership was required to maintain the
system’s balance of diplomacy, military power,
economic strength, and technological innovation.
By the
time President Trump took his oath of office,
negative, long-term trends had already started
to limit the influence of any American leader on
the world stage. These included a declining
share of the global economy, an erosion of U.S.
technological primacy, an
inability
to apply its overwhelming military power in a
way that achieved expected policy goals on an
ever more recalcitrant planet, and a generation
of increasingly independent national leaders,
whether in Europe, Asia, or Latin America.
Apart
from such adverse trends, Washington’s global
power rested on such strategic fundamentals that
its leaders might still have managed carefully
enough to maintain a reasonable semblance of
American hegemony: notably, the NATO alliance
and Asian mutual-security treaties at the
strategic antipodes of Eurasia, trade treaties
that reinforced such alliances, scientific
research to sustain its military’s technological
edge, and leadership on international issues
like climate change.
In just
five short months, however, the Trump White
House has done a remarkable job of demolishing
these very pillars of U.S. global power. During
his first overseas trip in May 2017, President
Trump
chastised
stone-faced NATO leaders for failure to pay
their “fair share” into the military part of the
alliance and refused to affirm its core
principle of collective defense. Ignoring the
pleas of these close allies, he then
forfeited
America’s historic diplomatic leadership by
announcing Washington’s withdrawal from the
Paris Climate Accord with all the drama of a
reality television show. After watching his
striking repudiation of Washington’s role as
world leader, German Chancellor Angela Merkel
told
voters in her country that “we must fight for
our future on our own, for our destiny as
Europeans.”
Along
the strategic Pacific littoral, Trump
cancelled the
Trans-Pacific Partnership trade pact on taking
office and gratuitously alienated allies by
cutting short a courtesy
phone call to
Australia’s prime minister and insulting South
Korea to the point where its new president won
office, in part, on a
platform of
“say no” to America. When President Moon Jae-in
visited Washington in June, determined to heal
the breach between the two countries, he was, as
the New York Times reported,
blindsided
by “the harshness of Mr. Trump’s critique of
South Korea on trade.”
Just
days after Trump dismissed Moon’s suggestion
that the two countries engage in actual
diplomatic negotiations with Pyongyang, North
Korea successfully
test-fired a
ballistic missile potentially capable of
reaching Alaska or possibly Hawaii with a
nuclear warhead (though experts believe
Pyongyang may still be years away from
effectively fitting such a warhead to the
missile). It was an act that made those same
negotiations Washington’s
only viable option
-- apart from a second Korean War, which would
potentially devastate
both the region and the U.S. position as the
preeminent international leader.
In
other words, after 70 years of global dominion,
America’s geopolitical command of the axial ends
of Eurasia -- the central pillars of its world
power -- seems to be crumbling
in a matter of months.
Instead
of the diplomacy of presidents past, Trump and
his advisers, especially his military
men, have reacted to his first modest
foreign crises as well as the everyday power
questions of empire with outbursts akin to
Anthony Eden’s. Since January, the White House
has erupted in sudden displays of raw military
power that included a
drone blitz of
unprecedented intensity in Yemen to destroy what
the president
called a
“network of lawless savages,” the
bombardment of
a Syrian air base with 59 Tomahawk missiles, and
the
detonation
of the world’s largest non-nuclear bomb on a
terrorist refuge in eastern Afghanistan.
While
reveling in the use of such weaponry, Trump, by
slashing federal funding for critical scientific
research, is already demolishing the foundations
for the military-industrial complex that
Eisenhower’s successors, Republican and
Democratic alike, so sedulously maintained for
the last half-century. While China is ramping up
its scientific research across the board, Trump
has
proposed what
the American Association for Advancement of
Science called “deep cuts to numerous research
agencies” that will mean the eventual loss of
the country’s technological edge. In the
emerging field of artificial intelligence that
will soon drive space warfare and cyber-warfare,
the White House wants to
reduce
the 2018 budget for this critical research at
the National Science Foundation to a paltry $175
million, even as Beijing is launching “a new
multi-billion-dollar initiative” linked to
building “military robots.”
A Future Debacle in the Greater Middle
East
With a
president who shares Sir Anthony Eden’s penchant
for bravura, self-delusion, and impulsiveness,
the U.S. seems primed for a twenty-first-century
Suez of its own, a debacle in the Greater Middle
East (or possibly elsewhere). From the
disastrous expedition that ancient Athens sent
to Sicily in 413 BCE to Britain’s invasion of
Suez in 1956, embattled empires throughout the
ages have often suffered an arrogance that
drives them to plunge ever deeper into military
misadventures until defeat becomes debacle, a
misuse of armed force known technically among
historians as micro-militarism. With the hubris
that has marked empires over the millennia, the
Trump administration is, for instance, now
committed to
extending indefinitely
Washington’s failing war of pacification in
Afghanistan with a new mini-surge of U.S. troops
(and air power) in that classic "graveyard
of empires."
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So
irrational, so unpredictable is such
micro-militarism that even the most fanciful of
scenarios can be outpaced by actual events, as
was true at Suez. With the U.S. military
stretched thin from North Africa to South Korea,
with no lasting successes in its post-9/11 wars,
and with
tensions rising
from the Persian Gulf and Syria to the South
China Sea and the Koreas, the possibilities for
a disastrous military crisis abroad seem almost
unending. So let me pick just one possible
scenario for a future Trumpian military
misadventure in the Greater Middle East. (I’m
sure you’ll think of other candidates
immediately.)
It’s
the late spring of 2020, the start of the
traditional Afghan fighting season, and a U.S.
garrison in the city of Kandahar in southern
Afghanistan is unexpectedly overrun by an ad
hoc alliance of Taliban and Islamic State
guerrillas. While U.S. aircraft are grounded in
a blinding sand storm, the militants summarily
execute their American captives, filming the
gruesome event for immediate upload on the
Internet. Speaking to an international
television audience, President Trump thunders
against “disgusting Muslim murderers” and swears
he will “make the desert sands run red with
their blood.” In fulfillment of that promise, an
angry American theater commander sends B-1
bombers and F-35 fighters to demolish whole
neighborhoods of Kandahar believed to be under
Taliban control. In an aerial coup de grâce,
AC-130-U “Spooky” gunships then rake the rubble
with devastating cannon fire. The civilian
casualties are beyond counting.
Soon,
mullahs are preaching jihad from
mosques across Afghanistan and far beyond.
Afghan Army units, long trained by American
forces to turn the tide of the war, begin to
desert en masse. In isolated posts across the
country, clusters of Afghan soldiers open fire
on their American advisers in what are termed
“insider” or “green-on-blue” attacks. Meanwhile,
Taliban fighters launch a series of assaults on
scattered U.S. garrisons elsewhere in the
country, suddenly sending American casualties
soaring. In scenes reminiscent of Saigon in
1975, U.S. helicopters rescue American soldiers
and civilians from rooftops not just in
Kandahar, but in several other provincial
capitals and even Kabul.
Meanwhile, angry over the massive civilian
casualties in Afghanistan, the anti-Muslim
diatribes tweeted almost daily from the Oval
Office, and years of depressed energy prices,
OPEC’s leaders impose a harsh new oil embargo
aimed at the United States and its allies. With
refineries running dry in Europe and Asia, the
world economy trembling at the brink of
recession, and gas prices soaring, Washington
flails about for a solution. The first call is
to NATO, but the alliance is near collapse after
four years of President Trump’s erratic
behavior. Even the British, alienated by his
inattention to their concerns, rebuff his
appeals for support.
Facing
an uncertain reelection in November 2020, the
Trump White House makes its move, sending
Marines and Special Operations forces to seize
oil ports in the Persian Gulf. Flying from the
Fifth Fleet’s base in Bahrain, Navy Seals and
Army Rangers occupy the Ras Tanura refinery in
Saudi Arabia, the ninth largest in the world;
Kuwait’s main oil port at Shuaiba; and Iraq’s at
Um Qasr.
Simultaneously, the light carrier USS Iwo
Jima steams south at the head of a task
force that launches helicopters carrying 6,000
Special Operations forces tasked with seizing
the al-Ruwais refinery in Abu Dhabi, the world’s
fourth largest, and the megaport at Jebel Ali in
Dubai, a 20-square-mile complex so massive that
the Americans can only occupy its oil
facilities. When Teheran vehemently protests the
U.S. escalation in the Persian Gulf and hints at
retaliation, Defense Secretary James Mattis,
reviving a plan
from his days as CENTCOM commander, orders
preemptive Tomahawk missile strikes on Iran’s
flagship oil refinery at Abadan.
From
its first hours, the operation goes badly wrong.
The troops seem lost inside the unmapped mazes
of pipes that honeycomb the oil ports.
Meanwhile, refinery staff prove stubbornly
uncooperative, sensing that the occupation will
be short-lived and disastrous. On day
three, Iranian Revolutionary Guard
commandos, who have been training for this
moment since the breakdown of the 2015 nuclear
accord with the U.S., storm ashore at the
Kuwaiti and Emirate refineries with
remote-controlled charges. Unable to use their
superior firepower in such a volatile
environment, American troops are reduced to
firing futile bursts at the departing speed
boats as oil storage tanks and gas pipes explode
spectacularly.
Three
days later, as the USS Gerald Ford
approaches an Iranian island, more than 100
speedboats suddenly appear, swarming the carrier
in a practiced pattern of high-speed
crisscrosses. Every time lethal bursts from the
carrier’s MK-38 chain guns rip through the lead
boats, others emerge from the flames coming
closer and closer. Concealed by clouds of smoke,
one finally reaches an undefended spot beneath
the conning tower near enough for a
Revolutionary guardsman to attach a magnetic
charge to the hull with a fateful click. There
is a deafening roar and a gaping hole erupts at
the waterline of the first aircraft carrier to
be crippled in battle since World War II. As
things go from bad to worse, the Pentagon is
finally forced to accept that a debacle is
underway and withdraws its capital ships from
the Persian Gulf.
As
black clouds billow skyward from the Gulf’s oil
ports and diplomats rise at the U.N. to bitterly
denounce American actions, commentators
worldwide reach back to the 1956 debacle that
marked the end of imperial Britain to brand this
“America’s Suez.” The empire has been trumped.
Alfred W. McCoy, a
TomDispatch regular,
is the Harrington professor of history at the
University of Wisconsin-Madison. He is the
author of the now-classic book
The Politics of Heroin: CIA Complicity in the
Global Drug Trade,
which probed the conjuncture of illicit
narcotics and covert operations over 50 years,
and the forthcoming
In the Shadows of the American Century: The Rise
and Decline of US Global Power,
out in September from Dispatch Books.
Follow
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and Tom Engelhardt's
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Single-Superpower World.
Copyright 2017 Alfred W. McCoy
The
views expressed in this article are solely those
of the author and do not necessarily reflect the
opinions of Information Clearing House.