Barack Obama’s coming request for Congress to “right-size and update” the Authorization for Use of Military Force (AUMF) against terrorism will be constitutionally fastidious and will catalyze a debate that will illuminate Republican fissures. They, however, are signs of a healthy development — the reappearance of foreign-policy heterodoxy in Republican ranks.
Many events (U.S. military misadventures since 2001, the Syrian civil war, the rise of the Islamic State, the spinning centrifuges of Iran’s nuclear-weapons program) and one senator (Rand Paul) have reopened a Republican debate that essentially closed when Dwight Eisenhower won the 1952 Republican presidential nomination. One reason he sought it was to block Ohio’s Senator Robert Taft.
He had been a senator since 1928 and an isolationist always. Then his January 10, 1945, Senate speech repositioned him and his party: “I do not believe that any nation hereafter can immunize itself by its own exclusive action. . . . Our oceans have ceased to be moats.”
The Republican schism of the 1960s, between the Barry Goldwater and Nelson Rockefeller factions — itself a reprise of the 1912 intra-party conflict between Theodore Roosevelt and President William Howard Taft — primarily concerned the proper scope and actual competence of government in domestic affairs. Rockefeller’s credentials as a cold warrior, from military spending to fallout shelters for civil defense, were impeccable.
A “challenging element,” indeed. It has, Kissinger writes, made America uncomfortable with “foreign policy as a permanent endeavor for contingent aims.”
On the other hand, “America’s favorable geography and vast resources facilitated a perception that foreign policy was an optional activity.” Because U.S. principles are assumed to be universal, the inclination to cooperate is assumed to be at least generally latent. Hence Franklin Roosevelt’s reported assurances to his former ambassador to Moscow, William Bullitt: “I think if I give [Stalin] everything that I possibly can and ask nothing from him in return, noblesse oblige, he won’t try to annex anything and will work for a world of democracy and peace.”
The last eleven years have been filled with hard learning. The 2003 invasion of Iraq, the worst foreign-policy decision in U.S. history, coincided with mission creep (“nation building”) in Afghanistan. Both strengthened what can be called the Republicans’ John Quincy Adams faction: America ”goes not abroad, in search of monsters to destroy. She is the well-wisher to the freedom and independence of all. She is the champion and vindicator only of her own.”
The coming debate about another AUMF will come in a context conditioned by Obama’s aggressive use of his expansive understanding of executive powers, at home and abroad. Molly O’Toole, writing for Defense One in August, noted:
The 2001 AUMF that Congress passed in the fearful days following the Sept. 11 attacks has been called the most far-reaching, open-ended expansion of the executive’s powers in U.S. history. Though the AMUF’s mere 60 words made no mention of al-Qaeda or Afghanistan, they provided President George W. Bush the statutory authority for the war in Afghanistan and on “terror,” and the legal underpinnings for almost any use of U.S. military force to counter terrorism anywhere across the globe for the past 13 years.
The 2001 AUMF could not have anticipated today’s variables. The AUMF of 2002 (Iraq) followed the Iraq Liberation Act of 1998, which passed the House 360–38 and the Senate unanimously, and declared it U.S. policy to “remove the regime headed by Saddam Hussein.”
Obama is right that there is much to rethink.
— George Will is a Pulitzer Prize–winning syndicated columnist. © 2014 The Washington Post