Praktike has cut to the heart of Peter Beinart and his occasional advice column to lovelorn Democrats on recasting a winning foreign policy. Seems Beinart is of the Dear Abby school in which the right atmospherics can solve a host of problems -- greet hubby at the door in a provocative nightdress, and if necessary try a few trips to Beinart's counseling services -- rather than head straight to divorce court.

I think prak's probably right. He's s already taken Beinart apart several times for an excessively narrow casting of the scope of foreign policy debate -- effectively making Iraq and the war on terror the touchstone. One might well ask where China and India fit within his scheme. And prak and others have also noted Beinart's unfortunate habit of appropriating historical figures of Democratic Party history is a somewhat disingenous fashion. But let's try one more time to take Beinart's recipe for success seriously.

First -- and most important for an advice columnist who wants to be successful -- from a tactical vantage, Beinart is still fighting the last war (and trying to justify his part in it I might add, which makes him a singularly suspect spokesman for the views he's pushing). Beinart overlooks a simple fact of life: Democrats (as well as the anti-neocons in the Republican party) are going to lose as long as the focus is whether/how the invasion of Iraq was a first major step in an idealistic refashioning of the world, and whether it was a well-chosen or well-executed example. That ground has been claimed by Bush and the neocons. Any attempt to point out that Iraq should not be taken as a model of success for future foreign adventures becomes an assault on Iraqis and freedom writ large (and increasingly providing aid and comfort for tyrants and terrorists). Any discussion that tries to make intelligible and principled distinctions within that framework is a mug's game.

Now for the substance of Beinart's argument.

Here's the dilemma as presented by Beinart, and as presented there's clearly only one answer:
Democratic politicians, who have to answer to their liberal base, have only two choices: a realist-isolationist language that does not depict the United States as a global democracy-promoter, or an idealism without illusions that recognizes America's flawed history on questions of global freedom.

Sorry, but I don't recognize me and mine in those two choices. Beinart frames everything in democracy-promotion or not-democracy-promotion -- which is a pretty queer way to think about foreign policy if you're anything other than an American who has little familiarity with the residents and actual political and economic systems of other countries.

In the process of framing a policy choice that would be acceptable to "the liberal base" (whoever they may be) he's lost a whole lot of other parts of a potential anti-Bush anti-neocon electorate. As a traditional liberal internationalist, I don't see why I should buy the call to arms that Beinart is peddling. Furthermore, an opposition to the Bush Doctrine (v 1.0 or 2.0) is quite possible from "realist internationalists." As Steve Clemons has noted, the fault lines in US foreign policy are shifting, and some of the old adversarial schools are finding themselves on the same side of the fence when it comes to opposing the Bush Doctrine and its corollaries.

But, Beinart says, you've got to appeal to your liberal base, who will only accept one of the two alternatives. Yet he doesn't explore other ways to slice the much broader potential non-Bush electorate on foreign policy issues and still satisfy some of the moral imperatives of Democratic activists.

If he's going to make a convincing argument, first he's got to define who these liberals are who have to be satisfied. I'm not including in "liberals" those who are "anti-globalization" per se or anti-war absolutists, or the issue-driven activists who define foreign relations exclusively through the prism of their favorite theory (structural imperialism, world systems, etc) or cause (environment, human rights, poverty, etc). Those groups won't be satisfied with anything that would be acceptable to either the US electorate or most of our international partners, so they've already taken themselves out of the foreign policy conversation. If they're a core part of the party's base, they're just going to have to be satisfied with domestic policy and making sure that their favorite issues aren't totally ignored.

Within the bounds of a real world discussion about a foreign policy for Democrats (that would resonate with non-Bushites and non-neocons who are not Democrats), what are the real options?

How about a foreign policy that doesn't use the words "democracy" or "liberty" or "freedom." If there is one thing evident from the presidential campaign, it is that each of those terms has by now been drained of all content. The meaning of each is totally in the mind of the perceiver of the symbol as is the case with other potent symbols, like flags and fireworks and coffins. The policies for pursuit of each know no limits.

Each of these connotation-laden terms, when uttered by the US, carries historical baggage outside our borders about the selectivity with which we apply these notions to others. This is not simply a fastidiousness about American "hypocrisy." The Monroe Doctrine and its twentieth century manifestations continue to be a source of conflict that structures relations adversely with otherwise-friendly democratic regimes in this hemisphere. "Democracy" is often greeted as a code word for regime change a l'Americaine.

Why do we think that a global Monroe Doctrine is going to be greeted with hosannas? Placing "democracy" front and center in our attempts to communicate our policies to the rest of the world is, in practice, likely to be inimical to our interests. There appears to be a broad consensus within the US that "hearts and minds" must be won in a longer-term "battle of ideas" with radical Islam. Do we think the display of "humility" somehow will eradicate the taint of association with American policies that is currently the kiss of death for reformers in the Middle East? How much "humility" will be required in Latin America to neutralize the deeply-ingrained suspicions when we call for "democracy" to get rid of the leader of a government voted into office in a vigorously contested election? Think what one might about the nature of the Chavez regime, we should be able to admit that labelling him an anti-democratic tyrant probably isn't the best move in a "hearts and minds" campaign in the region.

Why do we think a "forward strategy of freedom" -- one which aggressively places unfriendly regimes under the threat of instantaneous transfiguration into US-defined democracies -- will encourage a process of regime change that will produce viable, stable, prosperous societies? Where has such a policy produced positive results, even where our power would appear most overwhelming, ninety miles off our own shores? Why should we abandon the approach that has served us well -- the long, patient slog of cooperating with our partners within a Helsinki-type framework that presses for internal reforms while making meaningful adjustments in external relations?

How about a foreign policy that's based on "respect," not on "humility" or mea culpas for past sins? As Matthew Yglesias has pointed out, the American public isn't going to be big on the mea culpa business, so that's probably not a marketing angle that will have legs. In Democratic focus groups pre-election, it was pretty clear that "respected abroad" was something that resonated strongly with large parts of the American public. They can handle -- and even welcome -- a change of style from cowboy arrogance. And in fact, that is precisely what the White House is currently trying to stage manage with the Condi-charm-offensive currently in swing. It's a change of style that's popular with the American electorate, even with the hardcore right.

How about a foreign policy that's based on a strategic assessment of the opportunities and threats that are not those of America alone but are shared by the US and large portions of the globe? How about a foreign policy that paints the US as a leader among a partnership of wealthier nations that are already cooperating through a whole host of international mechanisms to make the world a more open, prosperous and secure place?

How about a bit of "modesty" of ambitions rather than "humility" -- modesty both in ends and means? How about a foreign policy that doesn't call for a world-wide revolution -- especially when the ultimate stated motive is to make the world safer for Americans? How about a foreign policy framed in language that resonated with the American public on the domestic front -- that insists that "we can do better" rather than "we can remake the world"?

How about a foreign policy that returns to the foundations of what the American empire has offered -- and even in relative decline can continue to offer -- to the world to make it and America itself a better place?

American elites should have both more confidence in and more concern for the example their country sets to the world, through their institutions, their values and the visible well-being of ordinary Americans.... These institutions and values constitute America's civilizational empire, heir to that of Rome. Like the values of Rome, they will endure long after the American empire, and even the United States itself, has disappeared. The image of America as an economically successful pluralist democracy, open to all races and basically peaceful and nonaggressive, has been so powerful in the past because it has largely been true. Americans must make sure that it continues to be true. Anatol Lieven, America Right or Wrong: An Anatomy of American Nationalism, quoted by Brian Urquart in Feb 24 issue of NYRB.


How about a foreign policy that recognizes that what we are at home is vital to how we influence the world outside our borders -- that adhering within our own borders to democratic principles and our cherished values of liberty and freedom is inextricably intertwined with our ability to manage foreign relations in our interest.

Once Beinart has articulated a policy that is "democracy" and "liberty" free -- once we eliminate "freedom on the march" from the vocabulary -- then if he needs some "democratic" gloss to sell it, come back to me.

In the meantime, he's just BushLite: an international revisionist who thinks not only that the US still has the imperial suasion to impose its will on swaths of the world but that the world needs the hegemon to exercise its will. That is a profoundly radical agenda for a foreign policy, which goes well beyond Beinart's deceptively simple choice of realistic isolationism or idealistic engagement.

Beinart's is an engagement that is not satisfied to engage. Rather, it elevates to the prime strategic goal -- the primary organizing principle of policy -- the remaking of not just the international system but the internal systems of all participants in the international community. It is the height of hubris and the antithesis of the sort of basic respect that America's partners have called for -- even with his nice bit of filigreed "humility."

Perhaps his response is that this is all rhetoric, to sell the American public, and not how we'll actually behave. But when there is a major disconnect between words and actions, words are used to justify the actions one desires and are readily ignored when it's a matter of convenience.

So if Beinart recognizes from the outset that democracy and liberty aren't actually going to be very good guides to policy, what are the guiding principles he would offer as to when rhetoric applies and when it's to be ignored? Other than, of course, his personal tastes and gut instincts with a bit of political and moral correctness as window-dressing.

Honestly, why should I prefer Peter Beinart's gut instincts -- as refined and superior as they may be -- over George W Bush's?