[This article appeared in the Fall 2001 issue of The Journal of Social, Political and Economic Studies, pp. 625-638.]

The Ethos of Global Intervention

Dwight D. Murphey

Wichita State University

Despite the presence in the world of a great many particularist movements that would split societies into smaller units, there is also a powerful drive toward consolidation, powered primarily by an international leadership that has adopted an ethos of global meliorism. In effect, the philosophy is that “everyone’s business is our business.” Important voices in the United States have expressed a desire for some constraints, but even these have called for a wide scope of world intervention. All of this is very much at odds with the traditional American foreign policy that prevailed until 1898. Now that the Cold War is over, the author says, it is time for a serious reexamination of the premises underlying both the new and the traditional policies.

Key Words: International affairs, American foreign policy, world intervention, global meliorism, Davos culture.

Powerful opposing forces—some centrifugal and others centripetal—are contending for preeminence in the world today.

In a recent book Beyond Westphalia?: State Sovereignty and International Intervention, Thomas Weiss and Jarat Chopra interpret this as a continuation of the anti-colonial breakup that followed World War II: “The decolonization process that began in Africa and Asia continues not only in the former Soviet empire but also within newly independent states, as ethnic particularism and subnationalism surface….”[1] They would almost certainly agree, however, that the fragmentation goes far beyond what can be attributed directly to the breakup of the earlier colonial system.

A centrifugal flying-apart into fragments occurs in movements that in many places passionately seek local autonomy, often even secession from the larger entity to which they have belonged. A short list of the areas in which local peoples have asserted themselves in a great many parts of the world would include the United Kingdom, Spain, Corsica, Italy, the Balkans, the Russian Federation, Canada, Sri Lanka, Kashmir, southern Mexico, Indonesia, the Philippines and many parts of Africa.

The centripetal tendency, on the other hand, leads toward consolidation. It entails an all-encompassing outlook that is premised implicitly on the assumption that “everybody’s business is the world’s business,” and presumes a proper role for global policing and social welfare. Historian David Callahan speaks of an “internationalist project as a whole” that is backed by “elite liberal internationalist opinion.”[2] The past century has seen the growth—even though unevenly and with much interruption—of a “global community.” It often holds definite opinions about what is right and wrong, and is willing to take action to mold the world, as best it can, in the direction it finds desirable.

Cultural historian Samuel P. Huntington says “the term ‘universal civilization’” is used to speak of “the assumptions, values, and doctrines currently held by many people in Western civilization and by some people in other civilizations.” He suggests that “this might be called the Davos Culture.” The name comes from a very tangible presence: “Each year about a thousand businessmen, bankers, government officials, intellectuals, and journalists from scores of countries meet in the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland.” Huntington tells how “Davos people control virtually all international institutions, many of the world’s governments, and the bulk of the world’s economic and military capabilities.”[3]

The Davos meeting is, of course, just the most recent sign of a consensus that has long existed among the global elite (and here I use “elite” in a neutral sense that denotes those in the professional classes who hold the most prominent positions). The name “Davos Culture” is useful, but the consensus is much older and more expansive than could possibly be suggested from a single annual gathering. Even those who point to the influence of the Tri-Lateral Commission or the Council of Foreign Relations, which are essentially parts of what Huntington is referring to with his term, are speaking too narrowly. In his book The Warrior’s Honour, Michael Ignatieff tells how the impulse toward universalism has been developing within Western civilization for many centuries.

Ignatieff speaks of centuries during which “Europeans gradually came to believe in a myth of human universality… that human needs and pain are universally the same.” Part of this was “the Christian promise of the universality of salvation,” and it was reflected in “the jurisprudence developed by earlier modern natural law theorists [when they] sought to provide a universal natural law.”

It is possible to speak of all this as a gradual “lowering of the threshold of human compassion,” since more and more people have come to be included within the scope of benign sensibility. By no means should those who are critical of it think of it in limited, personalized terms. Such a broad-based change of sentiment among so many people of like mind, nurtured over the centuries, is hardly a “conspiracy.”

Even though universalism has been the historic tendency, this doesn’t mean that there is necessarily a popular consensus in Europe and America today in favor of a policy of global intervention and meliorism. Such a policy is a major leap from the more limited politics of the nation-state. Where it most finds favor is among those who hold strongly to what we now call “politically correct” thinking (a euphemism for ideological conformity).

Hedley Bull describes “a common intellectual culture” that exists “only at the elite level.”[4] A fair summary of the consensus within this “world community” would be that it is

- “social democratic,” but in a way that still allows it to be enthusiastically supportive of a global market economy;

- state interventionist in economic and social matters, despite its commitment to free trade;

- internationalist, increasingly subordinating national sovereignty;

- ready to see more and more issues as global rather than local;

- reformist;

- and action-oriented toward imposing its will where it can, despite many practical difficulties, double standards and blind spots.

The community is by no means laissez-faire toward world problems. Among other things, it hopes to relieve humanitarian crises, address the chaos within “failed states,” decide which secessionist movements deserve to succeed and which to fail (sometimes making a point of “self-determination” and sometimes not), protect “human rights” as those have become generalized within an international code of conduct, act at least selectively against “war crimes,” prevent genocides, protect the world’s environment, foster arms control, “stop bloodshed” by ending conflicts, encourage “multiethnicity,” maintain strategic balances of power, preserve “international stability,” and operate through international rather than national agencies.

An overlapping ideological climate prevails in the United States, Great Britain and Western Europe. The outlook within these countries forms an important part of the “international consensus” among the world’s elite. The cocoon of “politically correct” attitudes surrounds people in opinion-forming circles. The ideologically correct outlook is insisted upon for the great body of professionals and semi-professionals—in fact, conformity to it is declared obligatory for all members of society. A great many opposing opinions exist, but they find little effective expression and there is considerable social, economic (and sometimes legal) pressure against them in circles considered respectable.

This internationalist meliorism is conducting something that differs in significant ways from the long twentieth century struggle to contain Communist expansion as a militant totalitarian ideology. The vast global intervention and common effort that went into the decades-long effort toward “containment” were essentially defensive. A single people could hardly be expected to stand up effectively on their own against the subversion, the assassination squads, and the externally-armed and supplied fifth-column movements that emanated from the Soviet Union and Communist China. This matching of an enormous movement against individual nations meant that as the process continued the “Free World” would shrink and become surrounded, as Mao proposed, by a “countryside” of Communist states, each dedicated to the destruction of “bourgeois” civilization.

Writing in The Mises Review, David Gordon takes issue with the view I have just expressed. He asks, “given the weakness of socialism as a method of economic organization, were the Soviets in any position to maintain world hegemony?” and answers that “eventually, a socialist system must collapse into chaos.”[5] The demise of the Soviet Union after seventy-plus years demonstrated, of course, the wisdom of Ludwig von Mises’ insight into the economic unworkability of socialism,[6] although that insight needs to be combined with certain others, such as about the political difficulty of holding together widely disparate elements in a broad empire.

Gordon’s point should give reason to pause before anyone worries about vast expansionist systems in the future, because they do indeed have Achilles heels. But to have relied on the premise that “the problem will take care of itself” as totalitarianism marched through all of the continents of the globe would have placed the non-Communist societies at ever-increasing risk. It is possible, of course, to look at it primarily from the vantage-point of the United States, but that would be too narrow, since civilization everywhere was at issue. Anything less than containment would have surrendered much of the world and seriously threatened the rest.

This is not the situation today. Since the collapse of the Soviet Union the intervention has—instead of being defensive—been geared toward, in effect, “minding everyone’s business.” This is why Gene M. Lyons and Michael Mastunduno find cause to ask, “Are we currently witnessing the emergence and recognition of a legitimate ‘right’ to intervene in the domestic affairs of member states in the name of community norms, values, or interests?”[7]

It is most accurate to see the meliorist effort as resuming its original thrust. There were serious moves in its direction before and even during the conflict with the totalitarian systems. It was a general world-improving spirit that inspired the League of Nations and the Kellogg-Briand Pact that outlawed aggressive war, and later the creation of the United Nations at the end of World War II. President Jimmy Carter’s policy toward black Africa was oddly enigmatic from an anti-Communist point of view, but becomes clear when we see it from a world-meliorist perspective.

The overall mindset that favors a universal policing and social servicing of the world has, however, been beset by considerable costs, frustrations and inadequacies. This has prompted important voices to call for restraint—although by no means for a general repeal of the mindset. This less-than-total universalism has become an important school of thought in itself. Here are some manifestations of it:

Casper Weinberger, the U. S. Secretary of Defense under President Reagan, advocated applying certain preconditions to U.S. military involvement. There should, he said, be (a) vital interests at stake, (b) a clearly defined and feasible mission, (c) Congressional support, and (d) a viable exit strategy. It is worth noting, however, that Secretary of State George Schultz so heartily opposed these limits that he openly took issue with them in speeches even though he was a member of the same administration.

After the Gulf War with Iraq, U. S. General Colin Powell announced the “Powell doctrine.” He wanted U.S. military involvement “only if victory is assured, if [the United States] is willing to use overwhelming force and if the fight has broad public support.”[8]

In an answer to a question during the 2000 presidential campaign debates, George W. Bush seconded the need for an exit strategy and at the same time argued that the United States should have priorities that would treat the Balkans and the Middle East, say, as more important than Rwanda when choosing where to intervene.

Insight magazine said about the two candidates, Bush and Gore, that they “agreed on four fundamentals that have to be met before deploying troops: (1) It must be in the national interest to do so; (2) the threat to be met must menace U.S. national security or important allies; (3) the objectives of the mission have to be clear and success assured; and (4) there has to be an exit strategy. The vice president added that the costs should be proportionate to the benefits.”[9]

In an interview just before taking office, Bush expressed a restrained view toward aid to Russia:

It’s hard for America to fashion Russia… We don’t want to be lending money and/or encourage the lending of money into a system in which the intention of the capital is never fulfilled. The intent of the capital was to encourage entrepreneurship and growth and markets.[10]

After the failure of the “nation building” intervention in Somalia, even U.N. secretary general Boutros Boutros-Ghali wrote a supplement to his An Agenda for Peace that called for “scaled-down expectations and missions.”[11]

These concerns exist alongside the broad philosophy of meliorism; and since the concerns are based on practical, reality-based factors, they are bound to put limits on it. The result is that “the Security Council’s definition of what constitutes ‘threats’ to international peace is both expanding to cover virtually any subject and remaining selective in application,” according to Walter Clarke and Jeffrey Herbst (emphasis added).[12]

Needless to say, there is considerable ambiguity in this restrained position. The principal thrust remains toward involvement in problems everywhere. In the early 1990s, a group of highly influential people—who included Senators John McCain, Sam Nunn, and Pat Roberts; Condoleezza Rice, later George W. Bush’s National Security Advisor [and Secretary of State]; Brent Scowcroft; David Gergen; and executive directors from Harvard University, the Nixon Center for Peace and Freedom, and the RAND Corporation—formed the private “Commission on America’s National Interests.” The Commission’s Report represents a sort of “middle interventionist” position. Its constraint is evident in its desire to relate intervention to a particular country’s national interest, in its desire to prioritize subjects of interest,[13] and in its moderating of the call for efforts to universalize democracy and human rights.[14] But the Report nevertheless calls for a vastly interventionist role for the United States. It is considered absolutely essential to “prevent the emergence of a hostile hegemon in Europe or Asia,” and “extremely important” to “prevent the emergence of a regional hegemon in important regions, such as the Persian Gulf.” Accordingly, the United States is charged with the responsibility of “managing the power balance” in East Asia, and with “preserving the independence of Ukraine and the Baltic states and protecting them from aggression, intimidation, and blackmail.” The United States is to defend allies, prevent genocides, end conflicts, and assure the survival of Israel, among other endeavors. The moderation comes only from allowing selectivity and occasional decisions not to act.

To return to the main point of this article, however, it is well to keep in mind that there are many voices calling for an even more sweeping view. Thus, Steven W. Mosher, one of the United States’ premier China experts, writes from the perspective of an “American global primacy.” He is fully explicit about it: “We need make no apology for striving to maintain America’s global primacy… America’s continued preponderance over China, as well as other states, brings with it important advantages for Americans. The benign American order carries benefits for the wider world as well as promoting prosperity, political development, and international peace.”[15] In like fashion, Richard Bernstein and Ross H. Munro, in their book The Coming Conflict With China, speak of the “principles of Western-style liberal democracy” as having “become the global norm.”[16] Mosher, Bernstein and Munro are, of course, just three voices out of a great many.

The Issue of Legitimacy

Legitimacy for the meliorist project is thought to stem from the collective consensus that underlies it. “What appears to be required to justify intervention, increasingly, is what might be called collective legitimation,”[17] according to Lyons and Mastanduno. Those who identify with this “world community” feel that they are already in command of a sort of world government that uses the United Nations and a vast web of international organizations (“IOs”), even though it is not yet fully institutionalized as a government as such. They lay claim to the various features of government: jurisdiction, coercive power, and legitimacy.

The concept of legitimacy-through-collective-will calls for serious reflection. Ironically, it is precisely the basis upon which lynching—a phenomenon of frontier-like communities acting upon outraged public opinion and not feeling themselves accountable to anything outside themselves—could be said to be “legitimate.” No enlightened person accepts that as morally supportable in a well-ordered society. The idea that a powerful group’s consensus validates itself reminds us of what, according to Thucydides, the Athenians told the Melians: “In fact the strong do what they have the power to do and the weak accept what they have to accept.”[18] In the absence of a universally-recognized sovereign power based upon a commonly-embraced moral and legal order, an international quasi-government is open to justifiable criticism by any given opponent on precisely the issue of legitimacy. This is, in fact, the view taken by many commentators in the non-European civilizations.

The will of the American elite is fully in evidence within the international meliorist project (and again I use “elite” in neither a favorable nor a pejorative sense). This is so even though “action by the world community” is hardly comparable to a well-oiled machine and the United States often acts on its own because of others’ reluctance. Friedrich Kratochwil cites an author who points out that the rationales for intervention “usually coincide with the U.S. position on virtually any issue….”[19] In Somalia the initial U.S.-led intervention in late 1992 was replaced in May 1993 by the United Nations effort, but a recent book adds that “although the United States did hand over formal control of the operation…, it still determined the nature of the operation.”[20]

The near-universal presence of the United States (its “primacy,” to use Mosher’s term) is attested to by the fact that, according to Insight, “as of July 1998 the United States had more than 200,000 troops stationed in 133 countries and territories and another 20,000 sailors and Marines on Navy ships.” In late 1999 there were 6,000 in Bosnia and another 6,000 in Kosovo.[21]

This doesn’t rule out involvement by others. Callahan speaks of “a consensus… emerging among the major democracies that a sustained collective effort must be made to deal with humanitarian crises and failed states.”[22] On the world economic scene, action is taken through the major powers who have formed the Group of Eight.

As a moral oddity, the “world community” has sometimes thrown open its cloak to include even the totalitarian states, such as in quarantining South Africa. Robert H. Jackson says the quarantine “was effective because the West and the Communist bloc cooperated to make it so.”[23] In 1948 the Universal Declaration of Human Rights was adopted by the unanimous vote of the General Assembly, which tells us that even the Communist members voted for it.[24] (All the while, Communism worldwide was producing a death toll that is estimated by responsible scholars at 85 to 100 million people.)[25] Recall that a Soviet judge sat on the Nuremberg tribunal. This participation by totalitarian governments necessarily suggests conceptual ambiguity and vast double standards.

Nor does the “world community,” so called, rest easily upon its throne. The offsetting rise of ethnic, religious particularisms—the “centrifugal forces” I spoke of earlier—is only the tip of the iceberg. Huntington observes that nine highly diverse civilizations exist in the world. “The concept of a universal civilization is a distinctive product of Western civilization,” he says, adding that “the idea of a universal civilization finds little support in other civilizations. The non-Wests see as Western what the West sees as universal.”[26] Stephen D. Krasner points out that “there is not yet any compelling evidence that the polities of the major powers are infused with a full commitment to democracy and liberalism. The United States and Japan do not share the same social purpose. Much of the Islamic world utterly rejects the West. The political trajectory of Russia and the other republics that were part of the Soviet Union is uncertain.”[27]

The Changed Mental Landscape of American Interventionism

From the beginning of American national existence until 1898, the United States was strongly committed to being a shining example of a free society while at the same time not intervening in Europe or other parts of the world. John Quincy Adams gave this its most eloquent expression in his Independence Day speech in 1821:

Wherever the standard of freedom and independence has been unfurled, there will [America’s] heart, her benedictions, and her prayers be. But she goes not abroad in search of monsters to destroy. She is the well-wisher to the freedom and independence of all. She is the champion and vindicator only of her own… She well knows that, by once enlisting under other banners than her own… she would involve herself, beyond the power of extrication, in all the wars of interest and intrigue… She might become the dictatress of the world; she would no longer be the ruler of her own spirit.[28]

Seventy-six years later The Nation expressed the same outlook in an 1897 editorial that opposed annexing Hawaii:

We are under the most solemn obligations to the civilized world not to diffuse our ‘happiness’ or our ‘life’ among other people in the old way. We have for one hundred years made known to all mankind… that when we spread we meant to spread…through knowledge and trade, and law and liberty, and brotherly kindness.[29]

This agreed with Andrew Carnegie’s comment two years earlier that “the man in America who should preach that the nation should interfere with distant races for their civilization, and for their good, would be voted either a fool or a hypocrite.”[30]

There were, of course, dissenting voices. Walt Whitman wanted President Polk to send 60,000 troops to Mexico to establish and permanently guaranteed a reformed government there.[31] During Europe’s revolutionary years in 1848-9, enthusiasm existed in the United States, supported by Secretary of State Daniel Webster (but also strongly opposed by Senators Clay and Calhoun), for assisting Louis Kossuth’s Hungarian independence movement against the Habsburg monarchy.[32] Thirty years earlier, Webster had urged the United States to intervene to support Greek independence from the Turks (but ran into opposition from John Quincy Adams).[33] In 1869, President Grant wanted to annex Santo Domingo, only to see the Senate reject the treaty of annexation.[34] Probably the most significant tendency toward the outlook of social-intervention (though its expression remained internal until the late nineteenth century) was what Murray Rothbard calls the “postmillennial pietist Protestantism that had conquered Yankee areas of northern Protestantism by the 1830s” and that wanted “to stamp out sin” within the United States.[35]

In 1898, what had been a minority position became the majority outlook, however. 1898 is thus a watershed year in the history of the United States. That year, the United States annexed Hawaii and went to war against Spain, prompted by the outcry over abuses in Cuba, thereby also taking on long-term involvements in Puerto Rico and the Philippines.

These actions were different in kind from the continental expansion of the United States to the Pacific Ocean. That was an expansion into what was perceived as empty space, despite the presence of the American Indian who was seen as hardly counting because of the Indians’ nomadic way of life, thin population and vastly lower level of development. The actions of 1898 involved exercising power over indigenous peoples of very different ethnic and cultural origin, and were motivated by an internationalist spirit of meliorist responsibility. The Nation inveighed in vain against this sea-change in American opinion.[36]

Even though many Americans have continued to uphold the traditional view and even though the steps toward global intervention over the past century have often been halting and uncertain, the prevailing American assumption has been that almost anything that goes on in the world is Americans’ business if only it is sufficiently dramatically brought to Americans’ attention and appeals to their moral indignation. On May 27, 1916, President Woodrow Wilson told Americans that “we are participants, whether we would or not, in the life of the world. The interests of all nations are our own also.”[37] Historian Eric A. Nordlinger says that “[Wilson’s] conflation of American power and morality was evident in urging intervention in Europe both to uphold our rights on the high seas and to ‘make the world safe for democracy.’ When the Navy bombarded and occupied Veracruz in 1914, Wilson maintained that ‘the United States had gone to Mexico to serve Mankind.”[38]

In 1943 while he was contemplating the formation of the United Nations, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt thought “the real decisions should be made by the United States, Great Britain, Russia and China, who would be the powers for many years to come and that would have to police the world.”[39] Along the same lines, when Robert McNamara became director of the World Bank he “threw its resources behind ‘a new world economic order’ on the premise,” Walter McDougall says, “that the rich ‘have a responsibility to assist the less developed nations.’”[40]

McDougall observes that President Harry Truman’s “Point Four, though modest at the start, amounted to a promise to extend the New Deal and Fair Deal to the world.” And he tells how President Dwight Eisenhower became convinced of the need for a worldwide drive against poverty by “the birth of the non-aligned movement in 1955 and the Suez crisis of 1956,” believing that “the freedoms of nations can be menaced not only by guns but by the poverty that communism can exploit.” Driven by the need to contain Communism, McDougall says, “Global Meliorism secured the bipartisan support needed to sustain grants, loans, and investments that would transfer, all told, some $2 trillion (in 1980s prices) from the First to the Third World by 1990.”[41]

Between approximately 1947 and 1989, much of this was part of the strategy to contain Communism. The global-meliorist underpinning was never absent, however, and served as an underlay. But FDR was not thinking of containment in 1943 when he included the Soviet Union as one of the world’s four policemen. Nor was Francis Fukuyama thinking of meliorism as having been limited to the needs of containment when after the disintegration of the Soviet Union he wrote about “the end of history” based on what he saw as the “final triumph of liberal market democracy.”[42]

Conclusion

In this discussion we have noted the existence of a world-meliorist project and of American leadership within it. This is a project very different from American policy prior to 1898. Now that the Cold War is over, a reexamination of the premises underlying the opposing policies would seem to be appropriate.

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[1] Thomas Weiss and Jarat Chopra in Beyond Westphalia?: State Soveignty and International Intervention, Gene M. Lyons and Michael Mastanduno, ed.s (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1995), p. 92.

[2] David Callahan, Unwinnable Wars: American Power and Ethnic Conflict (New York: Hill and Wang, 1997), pp. 201 and 178.

[3] Samuel P. Huntington, The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order (New York: Touchstone Books, 1996), p. 57.

[4] Bull is quoted by Huntington in Clash of Civilizations, p. 58.

[5] The Mises Review, Fall 2000, p. 15.

[6] Mises’ critique is based on an inability of a socialist economy to “calculate” because of the absence of a free-market price system. He was wise in seeing the impermanence of socialism, but it is doubtful whether a “lack of calculation” was the reason. The lack of incentives, the consequent lack of inventive dynamism, and the eventual loss of morale all seem stronger candidates. As the text suggests, there are still other reasons that contributed to the collapse of the social and political structure.

[7] Lyons and Mastanduno, ed.s, Beyond Westphalia?, p. 3.

[8] David Callahan recites the “Weinberger Doctrine” in his Unwinnable Wars, p. 42. He says that “Weinberger’s views, however, never represented a consensus view in the American government. Secretary of State George Schultz even went so far as to dispute them in public speeches.” The criteria set out by General Colin Powell after the Gulf War were somewhat different from Weinberger’s, although similar in spirit. (The Wichita Eagle, article on “Intervention,” June 20, 1999.)

[9] “Political Notebook” by Jamie Dettmer, Insight magazine, October 30, 2000, p. 13.

[10] New York Times report by David E. Sanger and Frank Bruni, Wichita Eagle, January 14, 2001.

[11] See Walter Clarke and Jeffrey Herbst, ed.s, Learning from Somalia: The Lessons of Armed Humanitarian Intervention (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1997), pp. 208, 211.

[12] Clarke and Herbst, ed.s, Learning from Somalia, p. 209.

[13] The prioritizing is apparent when it talks about preventing and, “if possible at reasonable cost, end[ing] major conflicts in important geographical regions” [emphasis added]. Elsewhere, it speaks of taking certain actions in “strategically important states.”

[14] The Report’s moderating of the call for universalizing democracy and human rights appears when, under “Less Important or Secondary” national interests, it list “enlarging democracy elsewhere or for its own sake.” It places in the “Just Important” category efforts to “discourage massive human rights violations in foreign countries as a matter of official government policy.”

[15] Steven W. Mosher, Hegemon: China’s Plan to Dominate the World (San Francisco: Encounter Books, 2000), p. 183.

[16] Richard Bernstein and Ross H. Munro, The Coming Conflict With China (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1997), p. 101.

[17] Lyons and Mastanduno, ed.s., Beyond Westphalia?, p. 8.

[18] Thucydides is quoted in Lyons and Mastanduno, Beyond Westphalia?, p. 246, essay by Stephen D. Krasner.

[19] Friedrich Kratochwil in Beyond Westphalia?, p. 34.

[20] Walter Clarke and Jeffrey Herbst in the book they edited, Learning From Somalia: The Lessons of Armed Humanitarian Intervention (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1997), p. 241.

[21] Insight magazine, November 15, 1999, p. 17.

[22] Callahan, Unwinnable Wars, p. 46.

[23] Robert H. Jackson in Beyond Westphalia?, pp. 81, 82.

[24] Related by Jack Donnelly in Beyond Westphalia?, p. 123.

[25] Stephane Courtois, Nicolas Werth, Jean-Louis Panne, Andrzej Paczkowski, Karel Bartosek, Jean-Louis Margolin, The Black Book of Communism: Crimes, Terror, Repression (Cambridge, MA: The Harvard University Press, 1999), p. x.

[26] Huntington, Clash of Civilizations, p. 66.

[27] Stephen D. Krasner in Beyond Westphalia?, p. 249.

[28] Adams is quoted in Robert L. Beisner, Twelve Against Empire: The Anti-Imperialists, 1898-1900 (New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company, 1968), p. ix.

[29] The Nation, Vol. 65, editorial at p. 468 (1897).

[30] Carnegie is quoted in Beisner, Twelve Against Empire, p. 169.

[31] Walter A. McDougall, Promised Land, Crusader State (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1997), p. 95.

[32] Patrick J. Buchanan, A Republic, Not an Empire (Washington, D.C.: Regnery Publishing Inc., 1999), pp. 123-5.

[33] Buchanan, A Republic, Not an Empire, p. 125; McDougall, Promised Land, Crusader State, p. 173.

[34] Beisner, Twelve Against Empire, p. 22.

[35] Murray Rothbard in The Costs of War: America’s Pyrrhic Victories, John V. Denson, ed. (New Brunswick: Transaction Publishers, 1997), p. 203.

[36] See the editorials in The Nation: “The Momentous Decision” [about Hawaii], Vol. 65, p. 468 (1897); “After Intervention—What?,” Vol. 66, p. 199 (1898); “National Hysteria,” Vol. 66, p. 297; and at Vol. 66, p. 319.

[37] Quoted in Buchanan, A Republic, Not an Empire, p. 181.

[38] Eric A. Nordlinger, Isolationism Reconfigured: American Foreign Policy for a New Century (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1995), p. 267.

[39] Roosevelt is quoted in Richard M. Ebeling, “Covering the Map of the World—The Half Century Legacy of the Yalta Conference,” The Failure of America’s Foreign Wars (Fairfax, VA: Future of Freedom Foundation, 1996), p. 184.

[40] McDougall, Promised Land, Crusader State, p. 196.

[41] McDougall, Promised Land, Crusader State, p. 182.

[42] Fukuyama is cited in McDougall, Promised Land, Crusader State, p. 200.