Foreign Relations of the United States, 1977–1980, Volume I, Foundations of Foreign Policy

74. Article by the Assistant Secretary of State for International Organization Affairs (Maynes)¹

Washington, undated

The Maturing of American Diplomacy

How does one describe the trends of American diplomacy today? Were it 30 years ago, in the full flush of American power and opportunity, we might adopt Dean Acheson’s metaphor and proclaim ourselves “present at the creation.”² But American strength, while greater absolutely, is now matched relatively by the strength of others, and American opportunity too often seems transformed into foreign challenge.

Moreover, American confidence seems to have given way to American self-examination. We no longer seem to enjoy the grandeur of simplicity in our foreign policy. Our goals seem more distant and unattainable; our resources inadequate; our people fed up; our government divided; our friends uncertain. There seems a diffusion of power everywhere. We find no accepted poles of authority, no widely shared principles of action.

If Dean Acheson was present at the creation, where are we? We are at a stage which marks the “greening of American diplomacy.”³ We are witnessing its democratization and final maturity.

For a century and more, this country enjoyed the luxury of ignoring the rest of the world. Geography provided the basis of our foreign policy, and isolation from foreign crises was the result.

At the end of World War II we moved to a new stage. We began, fitfully, to apply our growing national power to the world stage. Overwhelming and almost unchallengeable national power provided the basis of our foreign policy, and intervention and involvement in several foreign crises were the result.

Now we are entering a third stage in our diplomatic development. We are attempting, again fitfully, to adjust to the new power of others while trying to maintain or enhance our own. The result is a challenge to this country of a unique sort, for we are being asked for the first time to practice diplomacy as other nations have always been forced to practice it. Like other nations we are finding that our foreign policy goals are at least as likely to be attained because of the subtlety of our approach as through the morality of our cause or the strength of our military and economy. We can no longer order so we have to practice the art of persuading others.

What does all this mean in practice? In the period following the Second World War, American power rose to unprecedented heights. With the rest of the world in ruins, the United States accounted for 60% of the world’s industrial production, 50% of its military spending, and a commanding share of its monetary reserves. Some call this period the “golden age of American diplomacy.” But the phrase is not at all appropriate. It was not a golden age of American diplomacy but an exhilarating age of American governance. The task of American foreign policy then lay primarily in deciding among ourselves what to do, much less in deciding how to persuade others to do it with us. Other friends, given their weakness, had little choice. In that period, America achieved an influence over the entire globe—its politics, its economics, its culture—that had never been seen before and probably will never be seen again.

Yet despite the passing of that age, we also in a sense can feel “present at the creation,” for changing world realities are creating a whole new tradition and environment for American diplomacy.

There are several paradoxical aspects of this development that deserve examination, and I would like to turn to them now.

Nationalism and Interdependence

The diffusion of power internationally and the accelerated development of a global economy have radically changed the international environment. The code word for this is interdependence, a reality that requires a different approach to diplomacy, that presupposes, on the part of the American foreign policy establishment and the public, a more nuanced understanding of international political realities. Yet habits are hard to break, and a clash between reality and perception continues to hamper our efforts.

The most ready example of this is our national struggle to come to grips with the opportunities and risks of detente. But another more telling example is our persistent misunderstanding of the politics and importance of the nonaligned nations. Linked to this is our deep resentment of this effort to pursue aggressively their interests as though such a cause of action was permitted only for the developed countries. It is ironic that our most enthusiastic flagwavers and manipulators of nationalistic symbols are invariably incapable of understanding similar feelings among others.

The debate over the Panama Canal treaties is a case in point. The canal may have had strategic importance to us in the past, and it may still be of vital interest to us as a free and open waterway. But we could hardly maintain that its military importance is the same in an age of ballistic missiles and nuclear submarines as it was 30 years ago. Moreover, we have no exclusive claims to vital interests there, as these interests are shared by the Panamanians, the other South American countries, as well as the rest of the world. Yet the entire Panama Canal debate tells us something about ourselves and the forces that move nations in 1978. The careful calculation of national interest and of net advantage—the essence of traditional diplomacy—was nearly swamped in the emotional and unpredictable national reaction to the canal treaties. We were fortunate that we had people in the Senate who displayed real political courage.

A segment of our public’s reaction to President Carter’s recent overseas tours to developing countries is another good example of our lingering tension between national bias and international reality.⁴ Ritualistically the press denounced the trips as without purpose or focus. Three decades of habitual summitry had given us, what one might call an acute case of “Eurovision.” This view accepts as a matter of course our President’s dealing with heads of state in Paris, Moscow, or London, or for that matter any capital in Europe. Yet it becomes bewildered, bemused, or cynical when he is welcomed in Rio, Lagos, or New Delhi. Minds close and eyes glaze when it is explained that India is the 10th industrial power in the world as well as the globe’s largest democracy, that we conduct more trade with Nigeria than South Africa, or that Brazil is on the way to a global as well as regional role.

This “Eurovision” perceives the non-Western world only as a ragtag collection of nonviable ministates, a concern of the Peace Corps, missionaries, and readers of the National Geographic. Yet the facts are these.

• U.S. exports to the less developed countries, exclusive of the members of the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries, constituted about one-fourth of the total U.S. exports in the past 2 years, approximately equaling what we export to East and West Europe, to the Soviet Union, and to China.

• Close to one-half of our imports—about $60 billion—originate in the Third World, including more than 9 out of 13 critical minerals.

• Since the early 1970’s, when our dependence on foreign oil began to challenge our complacent perceptions, we have in fact increased our oil imports by eight times and are close to importing one-half of our total oil consumption.

• Countries like India, Brazil, Nigeria, Iran, and Saudi Arabia play a role on the world stage that dwarfs that of some of the countries we traditionally consider “critical.”

These realities underline an essential fact—the health and progress of American society are vitally linked to the economic and political stability of the Southern Hemisphere. Yet whether we have the maturity to understand that point remains very much in doubt at present.

International Institutions

International institutions are another example of how America’s perceptions are not always synchronized with changing realities. America was principally responsible for the creation of the current family of international institutions. Their creation seemed a few years ago one of the most imaginative ideas ever put into practice. Yet increasingly, we see it suggested that these institutions are a nice place to visit, but one wouldn’t want to conduct his diplomacy there.

Since the mid-1960’s, however, international institutions have changed enormously without many understanding the transformation. Look at the budgets. In the beginning, expenditures of the U.N. system were only about $200 million a year, and they were basically for operating expenses. Now the budget of the U.N. system, excluding the development banks, exceeds $2.5 billion per year, and the organization is active not only in four major peacekeeping operations but also is devoting more than 90% of its budget to economic and social problems.

At our urging the United Nations has entered such fields as technical assistance, environment, population, and drug control. With this new scope and with new resources—with several key countries, in addition, using the U.N. system as a channel for their development assistance—the United Nations has assumed unprecedented significance.

Meanwhile, the World Bank has become a much more important vehicle for development assistance than the U.S. aid program (which tends to be focused on a few swing countries in sensitive regions of the world). Indeed, a major triumph of U.S. diplomacy has been success in using international institutions to persuade other countries to assume a major share of the burden of global development efforts. Only a few years ago our share was around 40%; now it is closer to 20%.

Yet today international institutions are under unprecedented attack—an attack much more dangerous than some of the rhetorical assaults we have witnessed in the past. There are efforts to place totally unworkable restrictions on our contributions to international institutions.

If these efforts succeed, no international agency will, for example, be able to assist any government to increase production of certain products whose potential export might at some future date be competitive with American producers. We are asked, as World Bank President Robert McNamara has pointed out, to deny Papua New Guinea the right to increase palm oil production on the theory that this might be competitive with our soybean production when, in fact, our troubles—if we at some point have any—will stem from soybean production in Brazil; and this is the result of investments from a Japan still shocked by our decision in 1973 to ban soya exports to Japan in order to hold down prices here.⁵

At the same time, popular rhetoric continues to denounce the domination of the United Nations by ministates; yet anyone with knowledge of international organizations knows that the true influence is exerted by countries of growing power and influence—countries such as Algeria, Brazil, Egypt, India, Iran, Mexico, Nigeria, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, Tanzania, and Yugoslavia. By the end of this century, it is expected that the top 12 countries in the world in terms of population will not include a single Western power except the United States. The Third World now represents 74% of the world’s people; it has 58% of the world’s armed forces.

The reasons behind this Administration’s decision to devote a new degree of attention to the United Nations then are not trivial or the result of Andy Young’s [U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations] personal views. The U.N. system is the essential element for the conduct of foreign relations by most of the Third World countries. It is the collective source of much of their diplomatic influence, the basic outlet for their foreign relations initiatives. As we come to comprehend better the importance of these countries to us, we realize the necessity of dealing with them through international organizations. In short, the perception of the U.N. system as a nice but essentially meaningless institution should end. It does not match the reality of 1978.

This greater interest in international institutions is laying the groundwork for addressing many of the more important issues on the international agenda—issues which can only be effectively handled in the multilateral context. The catalogue is almost endless: energy, population, food, health, pollution, money supply, economic growth, human rights, narcotics control, arms sales, nuclear proliferation, outer space, the deep seabed. Yet we face this paradox. In the past we praised international institutions and tended not to use them. Now we use them and tend not to praise them. How long can this continue without undermining the instruments we need?

Human Rights: Religion or Foreign Policy?

A renewed emphasis on human rights is a major new trend in American foreign policy, strongly supported by the American people. It is more than posturing toward foreigners as it expresses the essential values of our society. It is more than just another factor grafted on our diplomatic efforts to be evaluated by simple input-output analyses. Yet it is here where we encounter an enormous controversy with cries of success and failure sometimes uttered by the same person. How does one measure success in this endeavor? We might suggest two possibilities.

First, if one views the human rights issue as a religious campaign, then one is almost never satisfied because, regardless of the progress made, one will always see more to do. The danger of such an approach is that the opponents of human rights will begin to argue that unless the same degree of success can be attained everywhere, the whole effort should be abandoned.

Second, if the human rights effort is viewed from a more traditional foreign policy point of view, then the foremost “success” of our human rights policy lies in the undeniable fact that human rights have become a global issue and are decreasingly an exclusive domain of American concern. This is a major—and we should hope not short run—change in international practice.

The recently concluded meeting of the U.N. Human Rights Commission provides an example of what I mean.⁶ It was one of the most successful in a decade. More important, it provided evidence that African and Asian countries are assuming a leadership role in an area where many in this country believe that only we care. For the first time in U.N. history, the Commission took action under its 1503 procedures⁷ against a member state—in this case Uganda, Uruguay, Equatorial Guinea, and a number of other countries. The credit for this development lies more in a growing international consciousness than in any efforts by the United States.

Yet at this point it is unclear whether this country has the patience to build the kind of international consensus on human rights that will make the subject a central issue of international diplomacy. Recalling an influence we no longer enjoy, we may overlook a collective success we stand some chance of achieving.

Foreign Policy Design and Domestic Demands

Perhaps the most striking aspect of this new age of diplomacy is its field of practice. We have entered an age of democratic diplomacy which is revolutionizing the craft. It used to be said that foreign policy had only a small constituency. But who can say that today? The constituency is growing every day; the problem is that it is not of one mind and too often it is angry.

For decades our leaders have argued that to accomplish a political task, one must organize. I think it is safe to say Americans have learned how. The civil rights, consumer, and antiwar movements have provided on-the-job training to all of us. As a result, on a growing number of issues, foreign policy appears to be losing its earlier character as a largely autonomous sphere of action and thought. Foreign policy is becoming more inextricably linked to domestic politics and policy.

In the postwar period, we should recall, the two realms were not so closely linked.

• It was only recently that the dependence of the United States on certain raw materials reached the point that shifts in the terms of trade or embargoes could have a radical effect on our domestic economy.

• It was only in the 1960’s that the rise of the multinational corporations changed the policy focus of large U.S. firms so that today up to 30% of total U.S. corporate profits can be attributed to overseas operations.

• It was also only in a recent period that our allies and some of the more successful developing countries began to compete directly with American industry in our internal market whereas before there was little that American business or labor had to fear.

We can also look for another reason why foreign affairs and domestic affairs are becoming linked. In the past the domestic burden of foreign policy usually increased in the event of a foreign policy failure as when diplomacy ended and war began. Thus, the domestic burden of our foreign policy increased sharply during the Korean and Vietnam wars; as the burden increased, so did political division at home.

Today, these burdens seem to increase not only in the case of a foreign policy failure but in the event of a foreign policy “success.” An arms control agreement may result in sharply increased defense expenditures as we are urged to redouble our efforts in areas not covered by the new compact or as we build costly verification equipment. A successful international energy policy may require drastic domestic reforms to succeed. An economic agreement may further shift the terms of trade against American business. In all three cases what might legitimately represent a diplomatic triumph, far from easing domestic burdens, could actually increase them.

As a result, today when some foreign policy issue begins to shape, it is not just a few foreigners or key Senators who express the same view. Today’s State Department official can rest assured that he will hear from others. The very first may be his mother, who wants him to cut out whatever he is doing. Then he will take a phone call from a Senator who never before had taken an interest in the subject, then a letter from an irate American Legion member. His press officer will ask guidance to answer questions from the Associated Press. His former colleagues—either from Brookings or from the American Enterprise Institute, depending on their politics—will pay a friendly visit to express their views. Then a congressional hearing on the topic will feature distinguished citizens, including former officials of the State Department, leaders of nongovernmental organizations, and academic experts. Editorials will spring up like mushrooms in the New York Times, the Washington Post, and, of course, the Atlanta Constitution.

Computerized letterwriting is a new development, the side product of the political campaigns of 1972 and 1976. It can produce hundreds of thousands of identical letters from all over the country, as we have seen in the case of the Panama Canal. The State Department, in turn, is providing computerized replies. Because the pressures are so great and on so many issues, the practitioners of foreign policy today require communications and political skills which yesterday were less critical. This may be an overlooked reason for the growing role of the White House in foreign affairs. It is not a power grab away from the State Department but an effort to provide “technical assistance.”

A Vision for a Complex World

We live in an age of “all-at-once-ness”—in time and place. Good or bad news that used to take days or even months to travel now bombard our nervous systems incessantly and simultaneously. There is no recovery time in our body politic; no time for recuperation and regeneration; no time to absorb and reflect on what has occurred and how we reacted before new, unanticipated events propel us to divert attention from one crisis to another. The pace, the crazy rhythm of events, magnified by their immediate impact, deprive us all of even the luxury of pause and reflection. When, we might ask, have the contemporary George Kennans got time for thoughtful meditation to fuse a profound understanding of history with a professional ability at prediction?

There is one feature of the international system from which we can derive both hope and concern. It is what one might almost call the homeostasis of world diplomacy. Homeostasis, in case you have forgotten, is the almost miraculous self-adjusting property of a system to maintain its stability by a coordinated response of its parts to any stimuli that tend to disturb it.

In simple words, our international system may have become so complex, so interrelated, and so unfathomable that its very complexity seems to keep it out of harm’s way and leaves in total confusion and ignorance not only those who attempt to reform it but, fortunately, those too who would try to do it in. On the other hand, the system is hardly without defects, and its plastic character make it difficult to undertake reform. Precisely because the enterprise is so difficult, only a collective effort can succeed—which means a more vigorous and engaged diplomacy.

In this effort, words remain the sharpest tool of attack and, when in trouble, the last line of defense. But American diplomats have no monopoly on the definition of words; and the impact of words is so much greater and more unpredictable in our age of participatory diplomacy. We are all vulnerable to the dictionary guerrillas who do not necessarily battle for the clarity of thought.

Rather, they twist and bend the meaning of terms to fit and serve their self-serving interpretation, their particular cause. Hence, the struggle in debate here, in international conferences abroad, and in negotiations about such terms as “human rights,” “basic human needs,” “the new international economic order,” and a host of other currently topical expressions such as “Palestinian homeland,” “internal settlement” and so on and so on.

Nevertheless, words remain important. They convey ideas, and ideas confer power. That is the essence of diplomacy.

Some of the more practical in our society might argue that power devolves more from military strength, economic capacity, and technological superiority and that those factors are what enable us to get what we want as we deal with the rest of the world. That may have been the ultimate argument in the age of Bismarck, but I submit that it is neither practical nor in our long-term interest to rely exclusively or excessively on that kind of power today. In today’s world insufficient power comes out of the barrel of a rifle, or the smokestacks of Pittsburgh.

No, to the contrary, our influence rests more upon our vision, our ideals, and—yes—our words. The real question is how much our vision reflects the concerns and interests of the community of nations—a community of which we are a part but no longer the proprietor.

What we require in 1978 is a vision that is clear enough to be understood by others, flexible enough to take into account the constant changes in world society, strong enough to guide our diplomacy, and worthy enough to be supported by our people.

Such a vision will have to be developed with the cooperation of many parties. But the building blocks are obvious:

• The vision must address the issues of world security from a larger viewpoint than narrow nationalism can provide.

• The vision must address the issues of American welfare from a framework of improving the welfare of the international community as a whole.

• The vision must serve to strengthen international institutions and procedures that help more rationally to share power and responsibility.

• The vision must embrace human rights in their broadest meaning which involves a commitment to the dignity of human beings in the material and political sense.

Always, we will need to back up our vision and our words with resources and action. Even then, we will not always get what we want. But there is no alternative. The dynamics of our society and of world affairs do not permit us either to go on our way or to have our own way. We live in a participatory age, and frankly, I think, we shouldn’t want it any other way.

1. Source: Department of State Bulletin, September 1978, pp. 48–51. All brackets are in the original. Maynes’s article is based on an address he delivered before the Conference on International Studies at Columbia University in New York on April 7.
2. Reference is to Acheson’s memoirs, entitled Present at the Creation: My Years at the State Department (New York: W.W. Norton, 1969).
3. Presumably Maynes based this phrase on Charles Reich’s The Greening of America (New York: Random House, 1970). In it, Reich heralded the development of the counterculture in the 1960s, noting that the organizational society of the early postwar era had given way to a more egalitarian society.
4. Presumable reference is to the President’s trips to Venezuela March 28–29, Brazil March 29–31, and Nigeria and Liberia March 31–April 3.
5. See footnote 3, Document 2.
6. The 34th UN Human Rights Commission meeting took place in Geneva February 6–March 10. For a summary of the meeting, see Foreign Relations, 1977–1980, vol. II, Human Rights and Humanitarian Affairs, Document 125.
7. Adopted in 1970, these procedures, set out in ECOSOC Resolution 1503, outlined steps for dealing with communications regarding human rights violations.