A Global Democratic Revolution?
Contra my good friend Ivo Daalder, the Bush Administration doesn't think it has won the war on terror—that war has just been subsumed into a larger global struggle now referred to as the war on tyranny, or, better yet, the fight for freedom. Far from ignoring the war on terror, Bush gave a speech explicitly devoted to the subject at Fort Hood in early April. And when Abu Faraj al Libbi—a top bin Laden associate—was captured in Pakistan several weeks ago, the White House was still able to describe it as “a significant moment in the global war on terror.” Every such moment, however, is accompanied by a caution about the long and hard road ahead.
The real focus is what Bush has referred to as “the global democratic revolution.” In his Fort Hood speech he described the Iraqi election as a “historic watershed” in this revolution, while repeatedly praising our troops in Iraq for “extending liberty” and “serving the cause of freedom.” Last week in Latvia he went a step further, distilling a set of lessons from 20th century history that purportedly now guide our foreign policy.
“From Germany and Japan after World War II, to Latin America, to Asia, and Central and Eastern Europe, and now to the broader Middle East, the advance of freedom is the great story of our age. And in this history, there are important lessons. We have learned that free nations grow stronger with time, because they rise on the creativity and enterprise of their people. We have learned that governments accountable to citizens are peaceful, while dictatorships stir resentments and hatred to cover their own failings. We have learned that the skeptics and pessimists are often wrong, because men and women in every culture, when given the chance, will choose liberty. We have learned that even after a long wait in the darkness of tyranny, freedom can arrive suddenly, like the break of day. And we have learned that the demand for self-government is often driven and sustained by patriotism, by the traditions and heroes and language of a native land.”
Ivo says this is all rhetoric, that in fact Bush is going back to his pre-9/11 foreign policy roots, focusing on preserving U.S. hegemony and worrying about China and missile defense. I disagree. First of all, it is obvious even to the most determined neoconservative ideologues in the administration that the way toward greater democracy, particularly in the middle east but also in places like Russia, will be a balancing act. Pressure must be applied, but not so much that it topples an existing government without a very clear idea and plan for what its successor will be. If Bush were just in it for the sound-bytes, why embrace this more pragmatic approach?
The nuanced strategy was on display at Bush’s chummy summit with Crown Prince Abdullah, where the Saudis were asked for more barrels, not ballots. Indeed, Secretary Rice refused to say whether the President had used the meeting to press for the release of key dissidents, and told reporters that reform in the desert kingdom was essentially a “Saudi process.” But in Russia, the administration’s rhetoric has been a bit more caustic. Bush met with Putin, but at the same time, he took the side of the Baltics and pointedly refused to recognize Soviet occupation as true liberation.
Second, as Ivo and his co-author Jim Lindsay were among the first to point out, Bush is a man of his word, and his word in his second administration is deeply Wilsonian. Go back and read his second inaugural address. The words “war” and “terror” are totally absent, while “freedom” appears 27 times, “liberty” comes in at 13, and “tyranny,” the new enemy, comes up five times. And don't forget, in the eternal Bush family competition, George W wants not only to be president longer, but president better. Remember “the vision thing”? The war on terror was a response to 9/11: the fight for freedom is intended as a vision for the ages. Bush’s most rousing campaign cry was “Freedom is on the march!” It brought the house down time and again; now he’s taking it to a global stage.
Third, a fight for freedom is tactically much more advantageous than a war against terrorism. Overall, wars "for" are much more appealing over the long haul than wars "against." Equally attractive, it is much easier, at least superficially, to measure how we are doing in a "fight for freedom” than in a war against terror. Far easier to point to elections in Iraq, or the Syrian withdrawal from Lebanon, or the Saudi municipal elections, and claim we're winning the fight for freedom. Indeed, spokesman Scott McClellan couldn’t resist the opportunity to tie Libbi’s capture to the freedom rhetoric, going on to say, “We'll also continue working closely with countries to advance freedom, and we will continue to go after those other terrorist leaders and bring them to justice, as well.” (The irony, of course, is that Libbi‘s capture came as a result of close American collaboration with the quasi-authoritarian Pakistani regime, a high-point for the war on terror, and a low-point for the fight for freedom).
But something deeper is also going on here, something Democrats need to understand. By transforming the war on terror into a global fight for freedom, Bush has found a way to turn the tragedy of 9/11 into a catalyst for something positive, a source of optimism and purpose. This urge to make something good out of something terrible is human and universal. What is deeply and specifically American, however, is the desire and the ability to turn tragedy into teleology, into a national mission consistent with the grand sweep of our history toward a greater goal. This same psychological move underpinned Woodrow Wilson’s conversion of what was originally a defensive war (which the country had resisted fighting for three years) – to stop German U-Boat attacks and specifically to redress the sinking of the Lusitania -- into a global crusade to make the world safe for democracy.
It is also precisely this instinct that is motivating the building of the Freedom Tower and the International Freedom Museum on the site of the twin towers. According to its website,
“The International Freedom Center will be a world-class place of education and engagement, helping people to understand, appreciate and advance freedom’s narrative of hope. The Center will be an integral part of humanity’s response to September 11, rising from the hallowed ground of the World Trade Center site, and serving as the gateway and complement to the World Trade Center Memorial.”
It will seek “to education, inspire and engage people around the world to consider “freedom’s promise, to feel freedom’s power, and to act in freedom’s service.”
This is rhetoric designed principally to engage donors and move the public. But as with Bush’s rhetoric, there is a powerful reality behind it. Bush’s transformation of the war on terror into a war on tyranny, a war for freedom, is more than a way of deflecting national and global attention from the incoherence of his stated reasons for invading Iraq before the war. It is the crystallization of a mission that has been building inside him since September 11. The war on terror is a war in self-defense. The war for freedom is a war for something Americans deeply believe in.
The real question, though, for all Americans, is whether that is a war best fought by arms, sanctions, and diplomatic pressure, or, as Thomas Jefferson insisted, by example.




