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January 29, 2010

Nonproliferation priorities

In the year since Barack Obama's inauguration, observers of all stripes have attempted to measure his progress in office against his promise as a candidate. Invariably, a mixed impression emerges. On several prominent issues, such as Iraq and Afghanistan, Obama has largely kept to the policy pledges he made as a candidate, satisfying some and frustrating others who had hoped (or presumed) that his positions would be more malleable. On other issues, such as the closure of the Guantanamo Bay military prison, Obama clearly has failed to meet his promises. Some issues, however, did not generate much attention during Obama's election campaign but nonetheless represent an important piece of his foreign policy agenda. One such issue, highlighted in this week's state of the union speech, is nuclear nonproliferation. Although Obama placed great emphasis on the issue in his first year as president, the coming year offers several important opportunities to turn his rhetoric into action.

As a U.S. senator before his presidential run, Obama's formal exposure to foreign policy was limited. But he did sit on the Foreign Relations Committee, and in that capacity he worked closely with Senator Dick Lugar (R-IN). One of Lugar's most notable accomplishments as senator was on the Nunn-Lugar Cooperative Threat Reduction (CTR) program, created in the early 1990s to provide assistance and expertise to states of the former Soviet Union to dismantle and safeguard their nuclear weapons materials. This program was remarkably successful and has been expanded several times over the past 20 years. Obama attached himself to Lugar soon after taking office and traveled with him to Russia and Ukraine to inspect ongoing CTR activities. The two senators eventually sponsored and helped pass an expansion of the program to cover conventional weapons and to help allies detect and interdict weapons of mass destruction. As a freshman senator, CTR was not an obvious issue to champion, and seeking Lugar as a mentor was not necessarily a politically smart choice. In other words, there were no votes to be gained through nuclear nonproliferation. Obama's active interest in the issue, then, could be interpreted as sincere.

Obama did not make nuclear nonproliferation a centerpiece of his election campaign, but in his first year in office, it became much more prominent. During one of his first major international trips as president, Obama delivered a major address on nuclear nonproliferation. In Prague in April 2009, Obama called for more than just enhanced efforts to halt the spread of nuclear weapons. He stated his intention to seek the eventual abolition of such weapons altogether. Although the notion of a “world without nuclear weapons” may have seemed fanciful, Obama addressed it in realistic terms, and the speech served as confirmation that Obama intended to prioritize the issue (for more, see The Water's Edge, April 2009). Later in the year, at the opening of the UN General Assembly in September, Obama chaired a session of the Security Council that adopted a resolution calling for tighter controls on nuclear materials. And one of the principal justifications beyond Obama's Nobel Peace Prize was his commitment to nuclear nonproliferation and disarmament.

If Obama clearly stated his commitment to nuclear nonproliferation and disarmament during his first year in office, the opportunities to begin realizing that commitment will come in his second year. Domestically, the Nuclear Posture Review (NPR) is a semi-regular assessment by the Pentagon of the country's nuclear forces, strategy, and readiness. New NPRs have been conducted at the beginning of each new presidential administration since the end of the Cold War, with the last one completed under President Bush in 2002. Originally intended for release late last year, the completion of Obama's new NPR has been pushed back until March at the earliest. Reports indicate that the delay is due to tensions between the Pentagon and White House over the future role of nuclear weapons in U.S. defense strategy, and to what extent the missions of deterrence, nonproliferation, and counterterrorism will be balanced. Although Obama has stated his belief that the U.S. arsenal plays an important deterrent role, Pentagon officials believe that his desired de-emphasis of nuclear weapons in U.S. defense strategy goes too far. Tensions also have emerged over how the U.S. nuclear stockpile is remained. Obama has been steadfast in his opposition to the Reliable Replacement Warhead (RRW), a new class of nuclear weapon designed to be more reliable than existing stock. His opposition is premised on the notion that the United States cannot be an honest broker for nuclear nonproliferation if it is building new nuclear weapons itself. But legitimate concerns exist about the reliability of existing U.S. nuclear weapons, many of which are decades old and cannot be tested. If the U.S. nuclear arsenal is to remain a trusted deterrent—as all sides say they want—reliability is key. If the RRW will not be produced, how the NPR addresses stockpile maintenance, modernization, and reliability becomes even more important, and even more contentious.

Internationally, Obama will also be facing important tests of his nuclear policy. The Strategic Arms Reduction Treaty (START), which governed reductions in the nuclear arsenals of the United States and Russia since 1994, expired in December 2009. Under the terms of START, the maximum allowable number of nuclear warheads for each country is 2200 and the maximum allowable number of launch vehicles is 1600. In July 2009, Obama and Russian President Dimitri Medvedev issued a joint memorandum of understanding that outlined what a START successor treaty should look like. It would reduce each country's strategic nuclear arsenal to between 1500 and 1675 warheads and limit their strategic delivery vehicles to between 500 and 1100. The Obama administration had hoped to negotiate a follow-on treaty before START expired in December, but failing that, both countries agreed to continue observing the terms of the treaty until a new treaty can be finalized. But the longer the delay until a new treaty can be finalized, the more uncertain future nuclear reductions become. Accounts suggest that the main sticking points concern the terms for the verification of future reductions. Whatever form it takes, the START follow-on treaty will require Senate ratification—a challenging prospect given the current political climate. Already, several senators are threatening to link their support for a START follow-on treaty with the outcome of Obama's NPR.

Although Obama faces challenges in implementing his nuclear positions both domestically and in a bilateral setting, perhaps the most important event in the coming year will be in the multilateral realm. In May, the United States will host a Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty (NPT) Review Conference. Held every five years, NPT Review Conferences bring together every country that is party to the NPT to consider changes or amendments to the original treaty, dating from 1970. Given Obama's vocal support, the prospects for strengthening the treaty look stronger than they did five years ago. But the outcome of the conference is by no means certain, due to the fact that the NPT largely depends upon faith in a bargain that has been unevenly enforced. The NPT divides the world into Nuclear Weapons States (NWS) that are permitted to have nuclear weapons, and Non Nuclear Weapons States (NNWS) that are not. The bargain between NWS and NNWS rests upon two pillars. The NNWS agree not to pursue nuclear weapons, thus countering the proliferation of such devices. In exchange, they have the right to peacefully pursue nuclear technology. They also secured pledges from the NWS to work toward the eventual disarmament of their nuclear arsenals. Given the thousands of nuclear warheads that remain throughout the world, the disarmament pillar of the NPT is its most tenuous—a fact that has never escaped the NNWS. Obama's call for nuclear disarmament is the most explicit statement of its kind from a U.S. president, and already, it has gone a long way toward making this year's review conference a smooth one. But operationalizing this good will and strengthening the NPT will depend heavily on the final nature of Obama's NPR and on the outcome of negotiations on the START successor treaty.

The Nuclear Posture Review, the START successor treaty, and the NPT Review Conference are only the most prominent markers of nonproliferation policy this year—and all will likely be concluded before June. In addition, Obama hopes to win Senate ratification of the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty (CTBT) and to advance a new treaty to prohibit the production of weapons-grade nuclear materials. Surely, he will not accomplish all of these things in one year, and Obama himself has explicitly noted the long-term nature of his goal of a “world without nuclear weapons.” But real accomplishments will be needed if a skeptical world is to be convinced that Obama's lofty rhetoric of the past has a legitimate future.


Foreign Policy Association, 29 January 2010

Posted by Daniel Widome at 06:15 PM to Trans-geographical, U. S. Politics | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

December 31, 2009

Nobel notions

The October announcement that Barack Obama would receive the Nobel Peace Prize surprised many. The overwhelming sense was that however promising a figure Obama might be, he hadn't yet accomplished enough to join the ranks of Martin Luther King, Mother Teresa, or Nelson Mandela. Obama himself seemed to share similar feelings of surprise and undeservedness, which he expressed both at the original announcement and more recently at his acceptance speech in Oslo, Norway. His speech, however, was notable for more than its modesty. Indeed, it was a strong statement (or re-statement) of his key foreign policy principles, and the global reaction to the speech reflected that.

For one thing, the timing was nearly as remarkable as the speech itself. Earlier that week, Obama had announced the outcome of a months-long review of U.S. policy in Afghanistan, in which he revealed his intention to send an additional 30,000 troops to that country. The irony was overwhelming -- Obama received his peace prize only days after announcing the expansion of an increasingly unpopular war. And it was not his only war, as the president duly noted. Although Obama had outlined the U.S. withdrawal from Iraq several months ago, more than 100,000 troops remain stationed in that country. Although the security situation has improved markedly, Iraq remains dangerous and unstable. A recent spate of high-casualty bombings has only served to underscore this fact, along with the Iraqi government's difficulty in passing an elections law that was a necessary precursor to an eventual U.S. withdrawal. Obama's acceptance speech also overlapped with the first week of a major climate change summit in Copenhagen, where the United States (along with other industrialized countries) faced significant criticism regarding their inaction toward addressing the problem. And of course, Obama's quick trip to Oslo fell amidst a bruising domestic debate over health care reform. This didn't add any irony to Obama's speech, but it made its substance and seriousness all the more remarkable, as it fell during period in which one might expect the president's mind to be elsewhere.

Regardless of what Obama said, then, his speech in Oslo came at a tremendously busy time for him. Despite his famed oratorical skills, it would not have been surprising if Obama had given a listless speech of little substance or issued a passing note of defensiveness regarding his recent decision to expand the war in Afghanistan. Instead, he did neither. Obama's speech -- technically a lecture, in Nobel tradition -- was a fully formed, serious articulation of his foreign policy principles. And he did not simply make a passing reference to Afghanistan. He placed Afghanistan almost at the center of his speech, as an example of a "just war" that, he argued, is sometimes necessary to maintain peace. Although embracing the emphasis on love and mutual understanding that had characterized previous winners of the Peace Prize such as King and Mother Teresa, Obama also noted that non-violence would have done nothing to stop the aggression of Nazi Germany. He rejected the false choice between realism and idealism, suggesting that human rights and democracy are important security interests but also observing that countries cannot simply impose their values on others. He underscored the importance of U.S. military force in helping to secure the peace following World War II, and he emphasized the importance of multilateral institutions and global development.

Praise for Obama's speech was remarkably widespread. Many of his supporters, both in the United States and around the world, saw in it glimpses of what drew them to Obama in the first place. It was an intellectually serious speech that spoke both of U.S. modesty but also of the country's traditional belief in the power of international institutions and in practicing its long-uttered but not-always-followed principles of human rights. It recognized the inherent complexity of issues of peace and security and expressed a sharp skepticism about the utility (and ability) of armed force to solve all security challenges. Obama also reiterated the connection between economic development in poorer countries and the national security of richer ones, which is a link emphasized by many left-leaning scholars and advocates. Conservatives, too, seemed unusually glowing in their praise. Political figures such as Sarah Palin and Newt Gingrich reacted favorably to Obama's defense of the U.S. role in underwriting European security during the Cold War.

Obama's Nobel lecture was not without its detractors, however. Despite the fact that Obama directly addressed the irony of a wartime president receiving the Peace Prize, many in the United States and Europe felt that the contradiction undermined the spirit of the prize. They suggested that instead of using the speech to defend the role played by the U.S. military over the decades and to reassert the notion that war is sometimes necessary, Obama should have used the opportunity to rebut more vigorously the policies of his predecessor and announce the withdrawal of U.S. forces from Afghanistan. Others suggested that he should have taken advantage of the co-incidence of his speech with (and the geographical proximity to) the climate change summit in Copenhagen. He could have reiterated not only the urgency of climate change, but also his view that it represents a security challenge, as well, and committed the United States to aggressively confronting the threat. Undergirding Obama's entire speech was the notion that the United States is a powerful country, with its own interests, and with the prerogative to defend those interests however they may be defined. As the U.S. president, this is not an extraordinary assertion for Obama to make. But as a Nobel laureate, it is. Any assertion of a privilege or right to use force, or any opinion that violence may be necessary, is anathema to the audience of a peace prize acceptance ceremony.

The most uniform characteristic of the responses to Obama's speech did not concern their substantive assessment. Implicit among the reactions, favorable and otherwise, was a remarkable sense of surprise. The surprise stemmed not from the fact that Obama has been awarded the Peace Prize -- that sentiment had peaked at the initial announcement in October -- but that the content of his speech was somehow out of character with his policies or principles. Liberal supporters in the United States and elsewhere wondered how a president who claimed to represent "change" could expand the war in Afghanistan and speak so forcefully about the occasional necessity of violent action. Conservatives were shocked to find the "socialist" darling of the left assert so unequivocally that evil existed in the world and to hear him mount such an impassioned defense of the role of the U.S. military in preserving peace and security during the Cold War.

In reality, Obama's Nobel address was perfectly in character. Substantively, it was remarkably consistent with his foreign policy pronouncements dating back to his time as an Illinois state senator. Although famous for opposing the invasion of Iraq, Obama has always been clear that he did not oppose war on principle, and that he supported the effort in Afghanistan, in particular. As U.S. senator, he did not call for an immediate withdrawal of U.S. forces from Iraq, which upset many of his liberal supporters who projected onto him their own ideologies. Instead, he understood the fundamental complexity of the Iraq conflict, in which the decision to invade relied on an entirely different set of evaluative metrics than the decisions about how to manage the occupation. Obama also had regularly emphasized the connection between the individual security of people in the developing world with the immediate national security interests of those in the developed world. One of the most striking characteristics of Obama's young presidency, and a point that he highlighted in Oslo, was his singular focus on nuclear disarmament and non-proliferation. This was a topic that has animated Obama for years and influenced much of his early work in the U.S. Senate. For any observer familiar with Obama's foreign policy principles, his Nobel speech was remarkable for its consistency and utter lack of surprise.

On a more fundamental level, Obama has long frustrated ideologues of all stripes, including (and perhaps especially) those of his own party. He has made a habit of challenging simplistic characterizations and of focusing sharply on the most pragmatic means for achieving his policy ends. This tendency is reflected in Obama's principles and his oratory, and at its worst, it can come across as too detached or technocratic. At its best, however, it can inspire observers to feel that even if Obama does not quite share their own beliefs, he is at least a rational, thoughtful politician who is open to differing perspectives. Judged by his own criteria, then, Obama's Nobel speech was nothing remarkable at all.

Foreign Policy Association, 31 December 2009

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December 05, 2009

New orientation

Between the lofty, untested principles of political candidacy and the urgent and unexpected realities of governance lies something of a middle ground, or an overall orientation that can guide a president's foreign policy and serve as a prism through which he or she can interpret global events. In the first year of his presidency, and especially in the past month, Obama's general foreign policy orientation has begun to emerge.

A convenient way of interpreting such orientations is through political and economic geography. During the Cold War, U.S. foreign policy was oriented toward the containment of Communist expansion. This orientation was global in scale, but its geographic emphasis was Europe. Historically, this made sense. Both world wars had erupted in Europe, and the United States had invested significant resources in rebuilding and securing the continent after World War II. The region held a cultural affinity for millions of Americans, and it maintained close economic ties with the United States. Looking forward, the orientation on Europe also made sense. It represented the vanguard of Soviet expansion, with hundreds of thousands of troops in East Germany and the prospect of nuclear conflict representing the most dangerous security challenge in the world. Following the Cold War, the orientation of U.S. foreign policy began to drift, until 2001, when the 9/11 attacks refocused attention on the suppression of global terrorism.

Under President Obama, the suppression of terrorism still remains a paramount objective. But in his tone and his actions, it seems clear that terrorism is not the prism through which he views the world. Likewise, Obama places great value on the U.S. relationship with Europe. He has already paid several visits to the continent, and he is quite popular there. But from the U.S. perspective, the relative importance of Europe has been waning. This reality became increasingly clear in November.

During Obama's first trip to Asia this month, the president paid visits to Japan, Singapore, China, and South Korea. At each stop, the importance of Asia as Obama's prevailing foreign policy orientation became increasingly clear. Of all of the countries on his itinerary, it is Japan's relationship with the United States that has most resembled the United States' relationship with Europe. Japan rebuilt itself after World War II under the protection of the United States and developed a political and economic system that was friendly to the United States' Cold War ideology. To this day, Japan houses thousands of U.S. soldiers, and disagreement over the relocation of important U.S. bases on Okinawa dominated much of Obama's discussion with Prime Minister Yukio Hatoyama. Obama also used Japan, as the oldest and most reliable U.S. ally on his itinerary, as the venue to deliver a wide-ranging speech on the importance of Asia. He emphasized the importance of long-standing U.S. treaty obligations in the region and the value of cultivating economic “spheres of cooperation, not competing spheres of influence.” Obama also announced that the United States would engage with the Trans Pacific Partnership, a regional Asia-Pacific free trade agreement that currently includes only four countries but could eventually form the basis for a much wider trade bloc.

In Singapore, Obama both reiterated a long-standing commitment in the region and began a new one. He participated in the meeting of leaders from the Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation (APEC) countries, which U.S. presidents have made a habit of doing in recent years. But Obama also participated in a summit with leaders from the Association of South East Asian Nations (ASEAN). This was the first time a U.S. president had met with ASEAN leaders in a formal summit, and the act carried significant symbolic value. Paving the way for the joint summit was Obama's willingness to meet with a leader from Burma, an ASEAN member but also a notoriously repressive state. Obama's meeting with Prime Minister Thein Sein was the first time a U.S. president had directly interacted with a Burmese leader in over 40 years, and it was a reflection of his new strategy of trying to engage with the military regime there in the hope of encouraging reform. Obama's meeting yielded little in the way of specific concessions, but the fact that he valued deeper engagement in the region over a long-standing refusal to meet with Burmese leaders was an important shift in U.S. policy.

Obama's visit to China could be considered the heart of his trip to Asia. He held a town hall meeting with students in Shanghai and met with President Hu Jintao in Beiing. Critics have suggested that Obama left China with few concessions from the Communist regime. They note that he was unable to secure wider broadcast of his town hall meeting in Shanghai or convince the government to modify its currency policy or support a tougher approach toward Iran. On these points, the critics are correct. Whether that necessarily represents a failure, however, is not as clear. The reality is that the United States cannot dictate to China as it once could, or as it might wish to today. Not only is its economy large and growing, China also holds $800 billion in U.S. debt. It plays a significant role in financing the U.S. economy, and it has assumed a greater stake in a wider range of U.S. domestic policy than it ever has before. China has become increasingly concerned, for example, with the effect that health care reform legislation will have on the U.S. budget deficit. This is not to suggest that China can now dictate terms to the United States. But the economic and political realities have shifted such that the United States and China must now engage each other on more equal terms.

Obama's tour of Asia coincided with important developments on the other side of the United States, in Europe. In October, the European Union cleared the final hurdles toward ratifying the Lisbon Treaty (for more, see The Water's Edge, October 2009). Among the treaty's most important reforms was the creation of the posts of president of the European Council and of high representative for foreign and security policy (essentially an EU foreign minister). These positions could potentially strengthen the collective voice of the EU on the international stage. At a meeting of EU heads of government this month, Europe's leaders selected Belgian Prime Minister Herman Van Rompuy to be president of the European Council and EU Trade Commissioner Lady Ashton of the United Kingdom as the high representative for foreign and security policy. By all accounts, these were sound selections. But neither individual has the stature of former British Prime Minister Tony Blair, who was rumored to be in the running for the Council presidency. By selecting such obscure personalities to fill these new positions, the leaders of the EU's individual member states took a deliberately cautious approach. Instead of taking advantage of the Lisbon Treaty to create a stronger international presence for the EU, Europe's leaders sought to prolong the status quo, in which foreign policy is largely directed from the 27 national capitals of the separate EU member states. In other words, serious change was deferred.

That Obama's trip to Asia overlapped with the EU's selection of new leaders was purely coincidental. But it underscored the shifting orientation of U.S. foreign policy. Where Asia presented a series of genuine challenges to a once pre-eminent United States, Europe deferred action that would have seriously increased its global stature. This is not to say that Europe will become any less important to U.S. interests or to suggest that any other issue (such as terrorism) will fade from the U.S. agenda. Nor is the shift of attention entirely due to any conscious decision, by Obama or anyone else. Instead, geographical and political reality has coincided with the term of a new U.S. president who is eager to conduct foreign policy in a fundamentally different manner than his predecessor. Compared to the historical emphasis placed on Europe, the relative importance of Asia for both U.S. domestic and foreign policy is increasing at a dramatic rate. Meanwhile, during George Bush's presidency, many Asian leaders felt ignored by a United States preoccupied with foreign wars. During his tour of the region, Obama hoped to send the message that “the United States is back.” This is the clearest indication yet that U.S. foreign policy will become increasingly oriented toward Asia, during Obama's presidency and beyond.

Foreign Policy Association, 3 December 2009

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October 22, 2009

Euro vision

The U.S. president frequently finds himself at the center of global attention. This month was no different, as speculation mounted over Barack Obama's new strategy in Afghanistan and surprise erupted over the president's unexpected Nobel Peace Prize. Beneath these stories, however, was an event that helps to explain them and will likely have significant implications for Obama's foreign policy in the coming years. Ireland voted, for a second time, on the Treaty of Lisbon. This time it passed, paving the way for a reformed European Union that will have increased clout on the world stage.

The origins of the European Union (EU) date back to the 1950s, when France, West Germany, and the Benelux countries formed the European Coal and Steel Community to centralize control of these strategic industries in member states. The effort was in direct response to the ravages of the Second World War, and it was felt that greater European integration would limit the excesses of radical nationalism and encourage peace. In the decades that followed, the institution that is now known as the EU broadened by taking in new member states and deepened by assuming greater responsibility. This seemingly inexorable trend culminated earlier this decade with the European Constitution, which would have replaced multiple, existing treaties with a single document that bound the EU more tightly together. After great effort was expended in the creation of such a comprehensive document and passed without referendum by most EU states, the voters of France and the Netherlands rejected the Constitution in 2005, pushing EU policymakers back to the drawing board.

Despite the rejection of the Constitution, many of the institutional problems that it had hoped to address remained serious challenges for the Union. As the EU expanded to include more than 20 member states, the demand for unanimity and absolute equality in decision-making became cumbersome. The Union also suffered from a “democratic deficit” in which voters felt distant and detached from EU decision-making bodies, including the popularly elected European Parliament. After several years of reflection, the member states negotiated a modified and stripped-down collection of institutional reforms known as the Lisbon Treaty. As with the Constitution (and any other EU treaty), the Lisbon Treaty required ratification by all member states. But each state had different methods of ratification. Ireland was the only member that required a referendum to approve the Lisbon Treaty, but in a vote in June 2008, Irish voters rejected it, causing great consternation across Europe. This month, Ireland held another vote on the Lisbon Treaty, and this time, Irish voters approved it, paving the way for the Treaty's near-certain adoption.

Along with a host of modifications to the EU's institutions and decision-making structures, the Lisbon Treaty would make significant changes to how the Union conducts its foreign policy. As a body in international politics, the EU has always been a unique and singular creature. Due to its common market and the combined size and wealth of its member states, the EU possesses clear economic weight. It frequently negotiates with one voice on matters of international trade, and it has its own representation at global bodies such as the G20. But the EU also consists of 27 independent countries, each of which jealously guards its foreign policy prerogatives. This is particularly true in the case of security and defense policy. When the United States invaded Iraq in 2003, the EU was sharply split on the decision, with the United Kingdom and Poland supporting the action and France, Germany, and others strongly opposed. There have been efforts to create a more coherent EU foreign policy, primarily in the form of the Common Foreign and Security Policy (CFSP), but the results have been limited by the institutional realities of the Union. These realities have existed for decades, frustrating Europe's allies. Henry Kissinger famously asked, “Who do I call if I want to call Europe?”

Right now, the answer to that question could include, at a minimum, any of three people. The highest authority of the EU is the European Council, consisting of the heads of government of the various member states. The presidency of the Council rotates among member states every six months, and during a member's presidency, its prime minister or president can present the public face of the EU. The European Commission is the executive arm of the EU, implementing and enforcing EU policies and regulations. It, too, has a president—completely unrelated to the Council presidency—that carries the weight of international recognition. (There is also a member of the Commission explicitly charged with managing External Affairs, but put that aside for a moment). In addition, the CFSP is managed by its own High Representative, who may be best positioned to represent the EU in an international setting. In short, it is difficult for the world to know who to “call” in Europe, or indeed how many people it needs conference in.

The Lisbon Treaty tries valiantly to answer Kissinger's question. It would replace the rotating, state-based EU presidency with an individual President of the European Council, elected to a two-and-a-half year term. The treaty would also combine the positions of High Representative for the CFSP and the Commissioner for External Affairs into a single EU “foreign minister,” and it would empower that position with a new External Action Service, which would essentially be an EU diplomatic corps. Member states could assign specific tasks to the new High Representative, and he or she will be able to implement commonly agreed actions. Both the Council President and the new High Representative would be selected through something called Qualified Majority Voting (QMV), which means that no single country could veto an appointment to either position. The Lisbon Treaty also clarifies the existing, complicated legal standing of the EU. Once in place, the Treaty would empower the Union with a single legal personality, making it less cumbersome for the Union to sign treaties and international agreements.

These changes are explicitly structural in nature. The EU will be granted no new foreign policy-making powers, and indeed, those foreign policies that it can implement will more strictly defined on an intergovernmental (as opposed to a supranational) basis. Essentially, the Lisbon Treaty will simply allow the EU to operate more efficiently on the world stage. That alone, however, will constitute a marked change in EU foreign policy, and this change could have important effects on Obama's foreign policy. As Obama considers the next steps in his Afghanistan strategy, one of the most important questions is whether he will order more U.S. troops to that country. Upon taking office, there was some hope that Obama would be able to convince European allies to send more soldiers and resources to Afghanistan. Such hopes have largely diminished, and in any event, the request would have been made through NATO channels. But centralizing the EU's limited foreign policy authority also centralizes its nascent security abilities. The prospect of an EU-led mission in Afghanistan is remote, especially while the security situation there remains so unstable. But it is conceivable that an EU stabilization or humanitarian mission could be useful in Afghanistan in the future, and having a single number to “call” in Europe would prove very helpful if Obama needed to coordinate that.

The treaty's reforms also might serve to amplify the EU's greatest foreign policy strength, which has always been in the realm of “soft power.” The Union has long used the prospect of membership as a carrot to induce neighboring states to reform their political, economic, and legal systems, and in doing so, it has served as force for stability in post-Cold War Europe. Its unique model of regional integration also serves as an example for similar intergovernmental bodies in South America, Africa, and Southeast Asia. Taken as a whole, the EU is the largest provider of global development funds on the world stage. Obama's recent Nobel Peace Prize was, in many ways, a reflection of the European preference for “soft power.” The award itself represents an intangible honor of immense reputational power but of limited practical import. And the justification for awarding it to Obama was, in part, his preference for the techniques of “soft power.” The citation for the prize lauded Obama's creation of a “new climate in international politics” and his capture of the “world's attention.” To be sure, the Peace Prize was granted in Norway, which is not an EU member. But pro-Obama sentiments appear to be widespread in Europe, and an empowered EU may prove to be a more useful partner for a U.S. president who speaks a language that Europeans understand and appreciate.

Despite Ireland's (second) vote, the Lisbon Treaty is not yet a reality. The sole remaining roadblock is the Czech Republic, where the parliament has approved the treaty but the strongly opposed president has deferred from signing it. The pressure on President Vaclav Klaus is intense, however, and it is unlikely that he will scuttle the treaty on his own. Once he signs the Lisbon Treaty, it will go into effect shortly thereafter, and the Council President and the High Representative can be selected. Until then, supporters of a more efficient EU—as well as a U.S. president eager for a coherent partner across the Atlantic—will need to wait a bit longer.

Foreign Policy Association, 22 October 2009

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September 30, 2009

Missile base

Barack Obama staked his campaign for the presidency on the promise of change. The realities of governance are much different than the promises of campaigns, of course, and Obama has disappointed some supporters with the slowness or incompleteness of his “change.” This disappointment has applied even in the realm of foreign policy, where the president has much greater leeway to implement change than he does in the domestic sphere. But in many cases, Obama has broken unequivocally from the policies of his predecessor. His recent decision to cancel plans to build a missile defense system in Eastern Europe represents one of the clearest breaks from the policy of the Bush administration. Although Obama’s policy change in this case has much to recommend it, the move raises an entirely new set of risks and challenges.

Under President Bush, the United States withdrew from the 1972 Anti Ballistic Missile (ABM) Treaty with Russia, and the Pentagon accelerated development of ground-based, sea-based, and air-based missile defense systems. The ground-based system, consisting of missiles that can be launched to intercept incoming warheads, was deployed in Alaska in 2004 and soon afterward in California. These locations were suitable to contend with missiles launched toward the United States from North Korea. But to counter the potential threat of Iranian missiles, the Bush administration proposed deploying missile defense systems to Eastern Europe. Under the approved scheme, a radar would have been built in the Czech Republic and interceptor missiles would have been based in Poland. In addition to defending the continental United States, this plan had two important side effects. It theoretically would have offered some degree of missile defense to NATO allies in Europe. And it would have greatly upset Russia.

Russia’s reaction to the proposed locations for the European missile defense system was impassioned and, to a degree, understandable. Ostensibly, it viewed the system as destabilizing and as a potential threat to its own security, despite assurances from the Bush administration to the contrary. In reality, the system envisioned by the Bush administration—with a total of 10 interceptor missiles, to be deployed by 2017—could not possibly have defended Europe (or the United States) from a determined Russian attack. Instead, Russia’s concerns focused on the geopolitical encroachment that the U.S. missile defense system represented. Although Poland and the Czech Republic have been NATO members for years, the positioning of such important and strategic U.S. military assets in what was once Russia’s sphere of influence represented a serious affront to the former superpower. Russia had opposed NATO expansion in the 1990s for similar reasons, but it lacked the leverage to halt it at the time. In recent years, under the centralizing leadership of Vladimir Putin and amid the global rise in energy prices, gas- and oil-rich Russia has gained greater influence. Its objections to the missile defense system could not be dismissed without consequence, although the Bush administration remained committed to the program to its final days.

Obama did not radically change Bush’s plans immediately upon taking office. Indeed, during his visit to Prague in April, he reaffirmed the fundamental purpose behind the European missile defense system: “As long as the threat from Iran persists, we will go forward with a missile defense system that is cost-effective and proven.” (for more, see The Water’s Edge, April 2009). His recent decision did not so much scrap the system as it aligned it to better meet his stated criteria of effectiveness. He will no longer move forward with the plan to deploy a ground-based system in Poland and the Czech Republic. Instead, he will implement a staged deployment of missile defenses centered on the sea-based AEGIS system. This alternative presents several advantages over the ground-based system. The sea-based system is less expensive than its ground-based counterpart, and it has a more successful testing record, as well. It can be deployed in stages, first on Navy destroyers and cruisers already equipped with the system, with the initial system of defenses becoming operational in 2011—far sooner than the ground-based system’s operational date of 2017. Obama’s alternative is also more suited to the predicted nature of the Iranian threat, in which an attack with large numbers of short-range missiles is more realistic than an attack with smaller numbers of long-range missiles. Tehran’s recent testing of just such a missile further antagonized those who view it as a threat to regional and global stability.

Perhaps the most significant implication of Obama’s policy change is its effect on several bilateral relationships of real importance to the United States. Russia, quite understandably, was pleased with Obama’s decision. From a technical standpoint, sea-based interceptors are less of a threat to Russia’s faster, longer-ranged ballistic missiles than ground-based interceptors. In the later stages of Obama’s plan, missiles and radars developed from the sea-based AEGIS system will be modified and deployed, on land, in Europe. But it is likely that those facilities could be placed in the Balkans or in Turkey, where they would pose less of a geopolitical threat to Russia. Russian parliamentarians praised Obama’s plan as “a victory for common sense,” while conservatives in the United States claimed that it smacked of weakness in the face of Russian assertiveness.

A key rationale behind Obama’s plan is an updated assessment of the threat posed by Iran. Indeed, if the assessment is correct, Obama’s plan will do more to neutralize an Iranian threat than Bush’s plan, and it will do so sooner. But many had suspected (or hoped) that Obama would use missile defense as leverage to compel Russia to take a harder line with Iran. Russia has sold weapons and nuclear technology to that country, and as a member of the UN Security Council, its cooperation with U.S. efforts to stifle Iran’s nuclear ambitions is vital. When Obama announced his decision, there was no public signal that Russia would offer more explicit support for U.S. diplomatic initiatives in return. It is possible, however, that a quiet deal was made. Several days before Obama announced the change in missile defense plans, the State Department accepted an Iranian offer for multilateral talks on a wide range of issues. Nuclear matters were not among the issues listed in the Iranian offer, but the dialogue is a promising sign. Any connection between the dialogue, the change in missile defense plans, and Russian leverage is unknown. But shortly after Obama’s announcement, at the opening of the UN General Assembly in New York, Russian President Dimitry Medvedev expressed a new-found openness to tougher sanctions on Iran. Given revelations of a secret Iranian nuclear facility that same week, Russia’s cooperation may become even more important in the coming months.

It would be logical for Poland and the Czech Republic to be unhappy with Obama’s decision. They had expended political capital in consenting to the placement of missile defense systems on their territory. But more importantly, they viewed the system as a way of further anchoring their security to the United States. Russia remains an intimidating force throughout Eastern Europe, which remains dependent on Russian energy supplies. By changing U.S. missile defense plans, Poland and the Czech Republic may feel somewhat abandoned in the face of an emboldened Russia. That the plan was announced on the 70th anniversary of the Russian invasion of Poland was inauspicious and unfortunate, to say the least.

The reaction from Polish and Czech leaders, however, did not betray significant disappointment. “I received President Obama’s words and declarations with great satisfaction,” said Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk, after speaking with Obama about his decision. Czech President Vaclav Klaus declared that he was, “100 percent convinced that this decision of the American government does not signal a cooling of relations between the United States and the Czech Republic.” An important component of Obama’s plan is the placement of Patriot surface-to-air missiles in Poland and the Czech Republic. Although these will not be effective against long-range ballistic missiles, they can be effective against shorter ranged missiles. And unlike the interceptors of Bush’s ground-based anti-missile system, Patriot missiles can also be effective against attacking aircraft. In any event, the later stages of Obama’s plan call for the placement of more advanced missiles derived from the sea-based system on land, and Poland and the Czech Republic remain potential locations for those weapons.

Obama’s plan, then, clearly represents change. Aside from an effectiveness standpoint, his decision will have important effects on the United States’ bilateral relationships with Russia, Iran, and its Eastern European allies. But it may have a more important effect on an issue of even greater, more global concern. In the same speech in Prague in which Obama underscored his support for European missile defense, he called for a major effort toward nuclear nonproliferation and disarmament. One of the first steps in that effort is the negotiation of a new arms control treaty with Russia. By addressing Russia’s concerns over European missile defense, Obama may have made such a treaty not only more realistic, but potentially more ambitious, as well. If that sparks a movement toward a global reduction of nuclear stockpiles, then Obama’s decision on missile defense may represent an even greater change than it first appeared.

Foreign Policy Association, 30 September 2009

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September 24, 2009

Japan in Pittsburgh

When Lehman Brothers collapsed one year ago, Japan entered the worst of the global financial crisis with a unique perspective. It had experienced its own asset bubble in the late 1980s, and the slowness and inadequacy of its response led to a decade of stagnation and missed economic opportunity. One result of that experience was an abundance of caution. Japanese banks avoided many of the subprime loans that had laid the groundwork for the financial crisis in the United States, and high household savings rates and a favorable balance of trade placed it in a stronger position than many of its G20 peers.

Japan’s export-oriented economy could not escape the crisis, however. Even prior to the collapse of Lehman Brothers, Japan’s economy had been shrinking, and the value of its exports had declined. By late 2008, Japan officially slipped into recession, and in early 2009, it experienced its first current account deficit in 13 years, as global demand plummeted. Under Prime Minister Taro Aso, Japan responded with debt-financed stimulus packages totaling $270 billon, or approximately 5 percent of the country’s gross domestic product. Unlike Japan’s failed stimulus efforts in the “lost decade” of the 1990s, these packages did not finance bloated and unnecessary infrastructure projects. Instead, they focused on providing services to laid-off workers and on investing in green energy projects. Many economists, however, feared that these efforts had come too late to be truly effective.

At this week’s G20 Summit in Pittsburgh, Japan is represented by a new prime minister. Yukio Hatoyama and his Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ) won a resounding electoral victory last month, sweeping away the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) and its nearly 55-year grip on power. Although he expressed generic disapproval with “American-style free-market economics” during the election campaign, Hatoyama’s economic policies differed little from Taro Aso’s. Instead, the DPJ campaign waged war on Japan’s underlying political structure. Hatoyama called for wholesale reforms of the bureaucratic machinery that had sustained the LDP’s longevity.

Achieving these structural reforms would be a tall order even in a solid economic climate. Today, they must compete with Japan’s pressing economic needs and its obligations to the global financial system. Hatoyama is something of an unknown quantity, especially on the diplomatic stage, and the G20 meeting represents his first international summit since taking office. Hatoyama will be closely watched by his fellow heads of government, as will his actions in the coming months. How he reconciles his desire for structural reform in Japan with the global imperative for economic crisis management is an open question. It is unclear yet if Hatoyama has an adequate answer.

The Asia Foundation, 23 September 2009

Posted by Daniel Widome at 01:08 PM to Asia, Trans-geographical | TrackBack (0)

August 28, 2009

Alliance adjustment

As Japan nears its August 30 election, a political era may be nearing an end. The ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), under the leadership of Prime Minister Taro Aso, is deeply unpopular and trails badly in pre-election polls; its nearly uninterrupted 54-year reign seems to be in its final days. The opposition Democratic Party of Japan (DPJ), led by Yukio Hatoyama, stands poised to win a plurality in the lower house of Japan's Diet, giving it license to form a new government. That alone makes the election unique in modern Japanese political history. But its potential effect on Japan's foreign policy and its relations with the United States is equally unique, and a DPJ victory may lead to subtle but real changes in the Japan-United States alliance.

Japan has been a close ally of the United States since the end of Word War II. U.S. forces occupied the country until a formal treaty of surrender came into effect in 1952, and ever since, the United States has maintained a significant military presence in Japan. The transition from wartime enemy to peacetime ally largely was driven by the Cold War. Taking advantage of Japan's strategic position and the long-standing aversion to Communism among its ruling class, the United States found a useful and valuable ally to counter Soviet influence in the Pacific region. The long-term presence of U.S. military bases could partly be justified by Article 9 of Japan's post-war constitution, which formally prohibited an offensive military force and only permitted “self-defense” forces. Without the burden of maintaining an extensive military apparatus, Japan was able to focus its post-war economic development on export-driven growth. Its economic success since World War II can partly be attributed to its alliance with the United States.

The LDP initially came to power as a strong supporter of the U.S. alliance, and the strength and stability of the partnership has helped sustain its longevity in office. For decades, the success of the alliance with the United States—together with a growing economy and low unemployment—seemed to justify LDP rule. But as the party grew comfortable in its power and success, it increasingly fell victim to corruption and controversy. A series of scandals in the 1980s were navigated with savvy leadership changes, cabinet shuffles, and coalition building. Economic stagnation and the end of the Cold War in the 1990s, however, posed real threats to the LDP, as the growth and stability that had justified its leadership and fractured its political opposition began to wane.

Instead of succumbing to an outside rival, the LDP elevated Junichiro Koizumi to the premiership in 2001. Koizumi led a reform-minded faction within the party that advocated, among other things, a more assertive foreign policy. He was close personally with President Bush, and he deployed Japanese troops to support U.S. occupation efforts in Iraq. He also deployed Japanese refueling ships to aid U.S. naval efforts in the war in Afghanistan. Although Japanese forces were tightly constrained in both missions, these missions generated a great deal of controversy in Japan. Koizumi was adamant in his support of these missions, however, and they were but a piece of his iconoclastic and relatively reformist agenda. He attempted to change the LDP from within, and by appealing to voters directly, he was able to lead the party to a significant electoral victory in 2005. But since Koizumi stepped down in 2006, a succession of short-lived and increasingly unpopular LDP prime ministers has followed. Taro Aso has become known for his erratic and detached behavior, and approval ratings for his cabinet hover around 20 percent.

All signs point to a DPJ victory on August 30. In part, this is due to difficult economic conditions and to the dwindling patience for LDP rule. One consequence of a DPJ victory would be the humbling burden of responsibility that faces any party that moves from perpetual opposition to first-time governing. This transition would be particularly acute for the DPJ, as the LDP's bold on power has been so strong and persistent in recent Japanese history. In a general sense, the DPJ has emphasized the need for a more “equal partnership” in the U.S.-Japan alliance. Indeed, during Koizumi's tenure in office, the DPJ expressed opposition to the naval refueling mission in Afghanistan. But as victory has become more plausible in recent months, the clarity that comes from permanent opposition has seemed become more muddled. Early in the campaign, Hatoyama was unclear about whether he would end or continue the refueling mission if the DPJ won a governing plurality in the Diet. Since then, he has clarified his party's position: he will not end the mission immediately, but he will not seek to renew the law that authorized the mission when it expires in January. This is less extreme than positions offered by the DPJ in the past, but it represents a clear departure from the policy of the LDP.

On many issues of policy, though, the LDP and the DPJ hold remarkably similar positions. The main battleground in the election is Japan's administrative structure and the political culture that has sustained it. Although Japan is nominally a multiparty democracy, the pervasiveness and perseverance of the LDP has seemed to suggest otherwise. The LDP has maintained its decades-long dominance with an interdependent web of relationships between big businesses, powerful bureaucracies, and dynastic politicians. This web has proven remarkably resilient, as money, influence, and careers circulate through it with ease. But this powerful system also obscures lines of political accountability and is prone to inefficiency and corruption. The DPJ pledges to reform this system, curtail the influence of bureaucrats, and promote a “politician-led” government in which the real policymakers are accountable to voters and not entrenched in ministries. For the DPJ, structural reforms are the prerequisites for real policy change and for a politics that “values people above concrete projects.”

In that sense, the victor in Japan's election will be unlikely to radically change the nature of the alliance with the United States. The two countries will remain strong allies with many of the same interests in East Asia and around the world. But if the DPJ wins, as appears likely, the Obama administration may find itself facing a slightly different tone emanating from the new government in Tokyo. The DPJ will be keen to prove its independence both from the LDP's time-honored ways but also, to some degree, from the perception of dependence on the United States. Already, policymakers in Japan feel some anxiety toward an Obama administration that has seemed to identify China as the key state in East Asia. This anxiety was heightened with Obama's choice for U.S. ambassador to Japan. Many had expected the appointment to go to Joseph Nye, a widely respected international relations scholar with extensive government experience and ample knowledge of Japan. Instead, Obama selected John Roos, a prominent fundraiser during his election campaign with little grounding in international diplomacy. None of this will dramatically change or upset the U.S.-Japan alliance. But if the DPJ is victorious on August 30, the new U.S. ambassador's job may suddenly become a bit more interesting.

Foreign Policy Association, 27 August 2009

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