Polishing the "City on the Hill"

At the core of American exceptionalism is a paradox of uniqueness and universality. The American national mythology holds that the United States is simultaneously unique, in the sense of being the first (and perhaps the best) modern liberal democracy, yet also universal, in the sense of representing the "true" aspirations of all humanity. This sense of exceptionalism produces an historical tendency to try to spread the American model around the globe. But there is a longstanding debate going back to the founding of our union about the appropriate means to do so. Should America seek to remake the world by serving as a shining example of its highest ideals (the "exemplarist" approach), or should we more actively intervene to remake the world in our image (the "progressive imperialist" approach)?

In this context, Andrew Bacevich has an interesting critique of the "Long War." Bacevich argues that the entire notion, embraced by both the reviled Rumsfeld and the adored Gates, inevitably leads us down an endless imperial path in a Sisyphusian attempt to transform other societies when we should be focusing on renewing our own not-so-shining "city on the hill."

In the wake of 9/11, Rumsfeld wasted no time in telling Americans what to expect. "Forget about 'exit strategies,' " he said on Sept. 28, 2001, "we're looking at a sustained engagement that carries no deadlines." Speaking at West Point last month, Gates echoed his predecessor's assessment: "There are no exit strategies," he announced. Instead, Gates described a "generational campaign" entailing "many years of persistent, engaged combat all around the world."

For the United States, the prospect of permanent war now beckons. . . .

Meanwhile, the immediate danger to the American way of life comes not from terrorists but from our own adamant refusal to live within our means. American profligacy, not Islamic radicals, triggered the mortgage crisis that underlies our current economic distress.

Bluntly, the Long War has proved to be a monumental flop. Yet Gates, channeling Rumsfeld, would have us believe that perpetual war constitutes the sole option available to the world's most powerful nation. This represents a profound failure of imagination. It also misreads our own history.

The truth is that the United States, with rare exceptions, has demonstrated little talent for changing the way others live. We have enjoyed far greater success in making necessary adjustments to our own way of life, preserving and renewing what we value most. Early in the 20th century, Progressives rounded off the rough edges of the Industrial Revolution, deflecting looming threats to social harmony. During the Depression, FDR's New Deal reformed capitalism and thereby saved it. Here lies the real genius of American politics.

Rumsfeld got it exactly backward. Although we do face a choice, it's not the one that he described. The actual choice is this one: We can either persist in our efforts to change the way they live -- in which case the war of no exits will surely lead to bankruptcy and exhaustion. Or we can recognize the folly of generational war and choose instead to put our own house in order: curbing our appetites, paying our bills and ending our self-destructive dependency on foreign oil and foreign credit.

Salvation does not lie abroad. It's here at home.

Dr. iRack thinks there are elements in the concept of the "Long War," including the primacy it gives to irregular warfare as the dominant mode of contemporary conflict and the notion that irregular challenges are not amenable to short-term solutions, that have merit (although he thinks the "war" frame is not always helpful). But Bacevich's argument is worth taking seriously as we pause for a moment of national self-reflection and begin preparing for the transition to the post-Bush era.