American Isolationism and the Peloponnesian War
Reading Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War, I am struck by America’s similarity with the Corcyreans, one of the three naval powers in the Aegean. The Corinthians observed about Corcyra, modern Corfu,
These Corcyraeans in the speech we have just heard do not confine themselves to the question of their reception into your alliance. They also talk of our being guilty of injustice, and their being the victims of an unjustifiable war. It becomes necessary for us to touch upon both these points before we proceed to the rest of what we have to say, that you may have a more correct idea of the grounds of our claim, and have good cause to reject their petition. According to them, their old policy of refusing all offers of alliance was a policy of moderation. It was in fact adopted for bad ends, not for good; indeed their conduct is such as to make them by no means desirous of having allies present to witness it, or of having the shame of asking their concurrence.
Besides, their geographical situation makes them independent of others, and consequently the decision in cases where they injure any lies not with judges appointed by mutual agreement, but with themselves, because, while they seldom make voyages to their neighbours, they are constantly being visited by foreign vessels which are compelled to put in to Corcyra. In short, the object that they propose to themselves, in their specious policy of complete isolation, is not to avoid sharing in the crimes of others, but to secure monopoly of crime to themselves—the licence of outrage wherever they can compel, of fraud wherever they can elude, and the enjoyment of their gains without shame. And yet if they were the honest men they pretend to be, the less hold that others had upon them, the stronger would be the light in which they might have put their honesty by giving and taking what was just.
— CHAPTER II, The History of the Peloponnesian War
American Isolationism is often for convenience, and is breached when the nation is sufficiently outraged. Charles Kupchan of the Council of Foreign Relations has an interesting book, Isolationism: A History of America’s Efforts to Shield Itself From the World. In it, he proposes, as this excerpt illustrates, that isolationism was a sort of ‘strategic passivity’, and our history shows that America has chosen to breach the blue wall when it feels appropriate, under appropriate rationale for the moment. He notes that the United States was isolationist from 1789 until 1941, apart from 1898 and during World War I, thus he dismisses the claims of historians who term American isolationism a myth, noting
Such ardor for territorial expansion across North America and commercial activism beyond the nation’s shores has prompted some scholars of U.S. foreign policy to dismiss the notion that the United States ever was isolationist. Historian Robert Kagan argues that the United States was a “dangerous nation” from the start and that Americans have always pursued “aggressive expansionism” and “acquisitive materialism.” Political scientist Bear Braumoeller calls U.S. isolationism a “myth,” maintaining that even during the 1920s, after the United States had refused to enter the League of Nations and pulled away from strategic engagement in Europe and East Asia, the nation was deeply engaged abroad, adroitly using its commercial and financial strength—“banks rather than tanks”—to pursue its objectives. Historians Warren Cohen and Melvyn Leffler offer a similar perspective, contending that the United States wielded considerable influence over global affairs after World War I by relying on its financial, rather than its military, strength.
In the same breath, though, he acknowledges American westward expansion and the Hamilton Doctrine, defending it as adhering to ‘strategic imperatives’ and pursued in the ‘service of isolation’. This convenient defense demonstrates clearly the American terra nullis thesis, that the continent was theirs almost by divine right and the expansion only natural, and that no other powers dare intervene. He says with bravura, asserting that,
Yes, Americans were avid and restless merchants, constantly looking for new markets abroad. Yes, Americans were bent on expanding westward across North America, in the process repeatedly attempting (but failing) to wrest control of Canadian territory, grabbing a sizable chunk of Mexico, and purchasing Alaska. Yes, African Americans and Native Americans suffered grievously as the union matured and enlarged. Yes, the United States was from early on intent on driving Europe’s imperial powers from the Western Hemisphere, clearing the way for the union to enjoy uncontested sway in its neighborhood. And yes, beginning in 1898 the United States became far more interventionist in the Caribbean and Latin America after it drove Spain from the region and took a major step toward finally fulfilling Hamilton’s aspiration that the nation become “an ascendant in the system of American affairs.”
The issue with this reasoning is evident. In the post-War age, since 1945, America has used its untrammeled power to intervene globally when it chose, and also not intervene when it might have made a difference. In Brazil, it allied with the brutal military dictatorship for over twenty years, just as it supported the Indonesian regime, neither of which had overt strategic significance for the regional security of the United States. Even before 1941, numerous examples of global intervention are evident, ranging from the Philippines to the Boxer Rebellion and the Banana Wars, besides direct participation in the Russian Civil War from 1918 to 1920.
American isolationist principles are further resonant with the Corcyrans, who proposed a merger or alliance with Corinth and Athens when it pleased them and treated their allies with estrangement and hostility at other times. It appears that the passage of millennia does not change political principles and the needs of the state.
A final excerpt from Charles Kupchan, only for its overweening language,
American isolationism rested on six distinct, but interlocking, logics: 1) capitalizing on natural security; 2) serving as redeemer nation; 3) advancing liberty and prosperity at home; 4) preserving freedom of action abroad; 5) protecting social homogeneity; and 6) promoting pacifism.
These are reasonable principles in one sense and Kipling’s White Man’s Burden put forth in another (which was itself written about the United States and the Philippine Islands). They carry a rank air of entitlement and superiority over native and foreign peoples. Such is the authority and confidence of great power, which in careless hands is a great temptation.
