|
It is too late
to walk or talk
softly. The big
stick—the
enormous
military might
of the
U.S.—bears its
own ominous
message, but the
U.S. might try
to promote its
democratic
ideals with more
skill,
conviction, and
volume. Even the
British, our
most loyal
consumers and
faithful allies,
are losing the
faith, despite
their relative
appreciation of
American
businesses along
their high
streets.
As an American
living in
Canterbury, I
have listened to
and read in the
newspapers an
almost
unrelieved
litany of
despair and
concern about
U.S. global
power and its
mostly
unilateral
initiatives.
Most British
citizens have,
moreover,
precious little
to say about
either George
Bush or Tony
Blair that is
not laced with
invective. The
U.S’s most
reliable ally
for its foreign
policy, Britain,
would seem to be
a place where
the animosity
one expects to
see in both
France and
Germany—never
mind the Middle
East—is somewhat
less virulent.
Yet Secretary
Rice’s visit
earlier this
spring to Jack
Straw’s Western
province in
England suggests
just how unhappy
many Britons are
regarding the
Bush-Blair
alliance and the
war in Iraq.
Protesters
confronted Rice
at nearly every
turn of her trip
and forced her
to cancel a
visit to a
mosque. This
anti-American
stance is
growing in
Britain. Even as
one can be
generally
sympathetic to
U.S. foreign
policy and
believe that
democratizing
the Middle East
is of
world-historical
importance, it
is still
important to
understand the
nature and
consequence of
dissent abroad.
Although much of
it is juvenile
and
ill-informed,
there are forms
of skepticism
and hostility
worthy of
attention. The
fortunes and
misfortunes of
Brand America
comprise one
such form.
Thomas Friedman
called the
felicitous
synergy of Brand
America and
globalization
“The Golden
Arches Theory of
Conflict
Prevention.” The
idea was that no
two countries
that had a
McDonald’s in
their major
cities would
wage war against
each other.
Friedman
recently
abandoned this
convenient
formulation in
favor of “The
Dell Theory,”
which stipulates
that “no two
countries that
are both part of
a major global
supply chain,
like Dell’s,
will ever fight
a war against
each other as
long as they are
both part of the
same global
supply chain.”
In other words,
the more the
entire globe
partakes in the
economic
prosperity
hawked by Brand
America -- the
more we all
drink coffee
from Starbucks
while hammering
away on our Dell
notebooks -- the
more peaceful
the planet will
be.
Western-style
capitalism thus
exercises a
“soft power”
that gives
empire-building
the good name it
deserves.
The problem is
that the current
administration
does not seem to
be transmitting
this message to
friends and foes
alike with much
agility,
clarity, and
gusto. Early
last year,
President Bush
appointed Karen
Hughes as the
Undersecretary
of State for
Public
Diplomacy. When
she announced
this choice last
March,
Condoleezza Rice
said, “We must
do more to
confront the
hateful
propaganda,
dispel dangerous
myths, and get
out the truth.”
In her remarks
last February at
the U.S.-Islamic
World Forum,
Hughes said: “I
view my job as
waging
peace….America
works and will
continue to work
with the many
nations of the
Islamic world in
a spirit of
partnership --
we seek to be a
partner for
peace, a partner
for progress, a
partner for a
better life for
all our
peoples.” To
wage peace is to
combine
diplomacy and
marketing as a
way to re-Brand
America. Hughes
claims to be
guided by “four
strategic
pillars” that
she called “the
four ‘E’s” --
engagement,
exchanges,
education and
empowerment.
This is the
rhetoric—not
particularly
compelling—of
soft power. It
finds more
articulate
expression in
the “realistic
Wilsonianism”
and “democracy
promotion” that
Francis Fukuyama
proposes in his
recent book,
After the
Neocons: Where
The Right Went
Wrong.
One imagines
that the message
Secretary Rice
wants to
broadcast, or
advertise, is
the truth of
freedom,
democracy, and
economic
prosperity, a
truth that the
United States
enacted as the
Marshall Plan
and successfully
promoted during
the Cold War.
But much of the
Arab world—and
even significant
elements of the
British
world—now see
U.S. foreign
policy in
anything but
favorable terms.
To read The
Guardian,
England’s
far-Left
daily—is to see
Bush as a
mixture of
Genghis Khan and
Holy Crusader.
To talk to many
citizens in the
U.K. is to
confront tonic
hostility to the
Blair-Bush
friendship and
its
consequences. In
an attempt to
improve his
country’s image,
Tony Blair has
established a
Public Diplomacy
Strategy Board,
an outgrowth of
his earlier
“Cool
Britannia’’
campaign. The
problem is that
diplomatically
and militarily,
Great Britain is
not too cool to
rule, and
continues to be
jeopardized by
its close
association with
U.S. interests.
As far as
corporate
concerns, Brand
America seems to
flourish in
Britain. On the
same high street
in Canterbury
where one sees
plenty of
American
businesses (such
as Subway, Pizza
Hut, McDonald’s,
Burger King, and
The Gap, to name
a few), one also
sees card tables
set up in front
of the public
library, staffed
by anti-Bush
advocates
purveying
“hateful
propaganda”
about the U.S.
and displaying
posters of Bush
as “The World’s
Greatest
Terrorist.” Most
tourists and
townspeople
stroll placidly
by, either
allergic or
immune to these
displays. But
the very
presence of
these posters
and protesters
in the heart of
the wealthiest
county in
England suggests
something more
than
sensationalism.
It is a growing
rebellion not
against the
message or
marketing of
Brand America,
but against its
product.
Secretary Rice
may have seen
the protesters
crossing her
path, but she
spoke to captive
audiences. It is
becoming harder
and harder to
sell American
foreign policy
to our strongest
ally even as
American
businesses
flourish along
every high
street in Great
Britain. So far,
business
interests
outstrip all
other concerns,
and most people
glide by the
posters and
demagoguery to
go shopping and
have a coffee at
Starbucks. We
can rest assured
that Canterbury
and Seattle will
never wage war
on each other.
But the talk on
and off the high
street, all over
Britain,
suggests
profound
skepticism and
disillusion
about the way
the U.S. wields
its big stick.
Perhaps that
stick is so big
it does not
require any
softer
promotion. As
Bush said, “I
don’t do
nuance.” But the
President’s
approval ratings
at home—and his
worsening
reputation
abroad—suggests
that he might do
well to have
others—his
image-makers and
public diplomacy
experts—advertise
his policies, if
not skillfully,
at least more
loudly.
Otherwise,
American
democratic
ideals will
degenerate into
saber-rattling,
saber-wielding,
slogans, logos,
and brand names,
meaning it will
be nothing more
than a big
stick.
RF
James Soderholm
is a free-lance
writer and
Professor
at The King’s
School of
Canterbury. |
