HIDDEN amid the sweeping rhetoric and rousing imagery of President Bush's second inaugural address was a supposed declaration of American values: "All who live in tyranny and hopelessness can know: The United States will not ignore your oppression, or excuse your oppressors. When you stand for your liberty, we will stand with you."
Unless, the president forgot to add, you happen to live in Africa or a nation more strategically useful as an autocracy. The fact that the statement is untrue is not as troublesome as our president advancing the fable that it isn't.
It is undeniable that America associates with brutal regimes and stands by while genocide occurs -- Rwanda, Saudi Arabia, Liberia, Pakistan, Darfur, the list goes on and on. However, this is not in and of itself an indictment of American foreign policy. Whatever the ideal situation may be, issues of practicality and necessary self-interest often force nations into circumstances they would like to avoid. No one in the administration enjoys being beholden to Saudi Arabia, yet what, realistically at this point in time, are the alternatives?
Similarly, while the United States and its allies could do more to intervene in the world's worst massacres, there are sober limitations of resources. The argument that America should not be the "world's policeman" holds little water. In this age of interconnectivity, what happens in the darkest corners of the world (say, Afghanistan) can have a very real effect here at home. However, it is indeed true that the United States does not have the assets to stop every conflict.
So why do we keep pretending that we will?
President Bush is not the first world leader to claim solidarity with the downtrodden, and he will certainly not be the last. But when these leaders repeat their duplicity ad nauseam, it becomes terribly counter-productive. Indeed, the absence of honest conversation destroys the foundation of enlightened foreign policy. Put another way, publicly ignoring your limitations prohibits others from helping out.
Perhaps the biggest reprisal politicians have to fear from being frank about foreign policy are assertions of inconsistency. How can you claim to love freedom while Africa is more a war zone than a continent and you openly said we cannot help all the oppressed? Yet there is nothing immoral about a foreign policy which intervenes where it can afford to. In other words, if the entire block is on fire and you only have the capacity to save one house, it is not unethical to save that house and forsake the others.
There is an ideal, one which should be constantly striven toward: A global foreign policy in which every nation understands their ethical- and self-interest in keeping the peace. A world with no dictatorships and no genocides. But this is a dream, and, sadly, our leaders continue to talk of dreams when what the suffering need is talk of reality. Honesty will breed new alliances in which countries meld their strengths instead of stacking them on top of each other. Honesty will help nations use their power wisely.
There is nothing wrong with stirring optimism or guiding visions. In fact, they are crucial for fostering a national resolve. But when these bold ideals are declared as practical fact, both the practicality and the idealism become tainted. If we want to help those in need, we must first be open about what we can and cannot do. We must not be turned back by the possibility that our actions will not fit neatly into the unblemished box of ethics and values. The world does not fit neatly.
As long as America is set on a course toward that shining horizon, it will do just fine. There is a very real danger, however, of staring into the distance so hard that we run aground. In order to stand with those who stand for liberty, we must first be honest with them. Honesty is the watchword of freedom -- that's what needs to be said.
Elliot Haspel is a Cavalier Daily associate editor. He can be reached at ehaspel@cavalierdaily.com.