John Kerry is elected president and says, "I want a foreign policy that fights terrorism effectively but also preserves our moral authority in the world." What do you say?
You focus on a clear identification of which terrorists are concentrating their hostility on America. Then you attempt to eliminate them. At the same time, you should undercut the political, social, and religious impulses that recruit such terrorists. In brief, you do not wage an undifferentiated, theologically defined, vague, and universal war against “terrorism with a global reach” that has the effect of multiplying our enemies and replenishing the terrorist ranks.
America cannot simultaneously wage a war against those who threaten us and become a protagonist in every other part of the world. It is also senseless to claim, as Vice President [Dick] Cheney has, that terrorists hate all nations and all peoples. In fact, the terrorists in [Northern Ireland] are waging war against the British. And, obviously, we are on the side of the British. But the terrorists in Ulster are not waging a war on the Argentines. And the terrorists in Kashmir are waging a war against Indians, but not against Finns.
The terrorists that go after us tend to come from the Middle East. This suggests that dealing with problems of the Middle East is the necessary focus of any American response. Babbling on about terrorism as an abstract evil and then attacking Iraq is simply a mechanism for increasing the ranks of terrorists who define the U.S. as their principal enemy.
As the neocons lose their influence, we may return to a foreign-policy realism. But this approach has been responsible for a slew of problems, including Vietnam. Can you describe a new realism that will avoid such traps?
First of all, there's a difference between a realism based on a moderate national consensus and realism driven by extremist paranoia. Since World War II, American foreign policy has been both realistic and moderate. There have been occasional bursts of intensified anxiety and paranoiac fears, but, by and large, American presidents elected since 1948 -- both Democrats and Republicans -- have been able to maintain a steady course. Today, we are seeing the first case in which extremism of the kind once foreshadowed by [Barry] Goldwater is now dominant in the White House. There is a very simple equation: Extremism equals recklessness. Extremism destroys the common-sense, inner core of realism and produces reckless policies justified by demagogy and even deception.
Last but not least, I'm not so sure the neocons are losing. They could stage a resurgence if November turns out favorably for them.
What made you decide to write this book?
I started writing the book before [September 11]. Even then, I had become increasingly concerned that America may fail to strike the needed balance in its foreign policy and that we were succumbing to the arrogant temptation to equate leadership with domination. After 9-11, I was concerned about the rhetorical excesses of the Bush administration and its emotionally charged propagation of fear -- along with its indifference to the effects that this could have on civil rights. I was also concerned that these developments could undermine our ability to provide global leadership at a time when there is no real alternative. If this leadership falters, the only alternative is anarchy. And we, as a society, are not likely to find such a world very comfortable or congenial.
In your book, you talk about how the world is like an urban center full of violence. Are we the global cop?
I think there's a real risk that we are being driven to play that role. And yet there is a question as to whether we are willing to make the sacrifice necessary for it. The analogy with urban violence is quite suggestive because, in some respects, America is like the suburban parts of the city that are well-policed. It would cost too much to have the same level of security in the entire city. As a consequence, there are large areas where it's not safe to go to. The problem is these areas can gradually expand and infect suburbia. We are caught in that dilemma as a country. Do we want to police the world? Can we police the world? We're getting some of the answers to these questions through our experience in Iraq. We're discovering that trying to police 23 million people who don't want us to be there is more expensive, more burdensome, and more bloody than we bargained for.
What neighborhood do you live in?
I live in McLean [Virginia]. Which is precisely an example of what I'm talking about.
Robert Reich [chairman and co-founder of The American Prospect] recently wrote a piece asking, "How long are we willing to be a global cop?" And you're saying Iraq is a test for --
Iraq is not even a test. Iraq is a warning that it is simply not practical. And that is the great failure of the neocons. While they were preoccupied with the Middle East, they created a doctrine that would transform the character of American society if it were applied in other places such as Pakistan, North Korea, Africa, and Latin America. And if the doctrine were undertaken and then abandoned, it would greatly increase global insecurity. This is why the neocon prescriptions are ultimately suicidal.
You say our role as a global stabilizer could rapidly terminate. Is that necessarily a bad thing?
Well, it's a bad thing because no one else can play that role. The only problem is we may not be playing that role if we define [ourselves] in our relationship with others by a phrase the president is so fond of, namely, "If you're not with us, you're against us." The implication is that our leadership is not consensual, but it is based on a Manichaean doctrine: “If you're not doing what we want you to do, you define yourself as our enemy.”
And that phrase comes from --
Lenin.
You've talked about the recent damage to our global standing. After Abu Ghraib, can it be restored?
It will take a long, long time. Basic perceptions are a little bit like human relationships. Once you lose your affection for someone, or you conclude that someone was a liar, or you have seen someone act like a brute or a sadist, it takes a very long time for that person -- whoever it is -- to change his or her image, even if they seriously try to do so. It's going to take a very long time for America to regain the special standing it's had in the world.
Is it really trying to change its image?
Maybe, up to a point. I think the administration is aware of the fact that what happened in that particular case -- and also, more generally, in its mendacity about [weapons of mass destruction] -- has been damaging to the American image. But it's not easy to change -- even if it wishes to -- because the U.S. is identified with the problem it generated.
Is there ever a time when torture is acceptable?
I can imagine a situation when you might have someone in your control who has the key to an atomic weapon that is going to go off in five hours. But I want to emphasize very strongly this would be the case only if you had close to absolute certainty that such a person knows what needs to be known and is refusing to share it. Without such certainty, it is very difficult simply to engage in torture on the basis of suspicion -- even if it is a strongly held suspicion.
One can make that case because we can never be certain. But suppose Mr. X looks you in the eyes and says, "I know where it is. And I'm not going to tell you." Say you have additional reason to know he's not bluffing.
[Brzezinski picks up a spiked club from a coffee table and starts to fiddle with it.]
You could make a moral case that the use of force to an extreme degree is justified to extract the information. Beyond that, I understand there are now such things as so-called truth serums. At least I've heard about them. I think they would be preferable to torture because torture can result in you being misled. A tortured person tells you what you want to hear, whereas a truth serum, if it really exists, reduces the ability of the object to deceive.
What is that torture instrument you have in your hand?
[Laughs] This was a gift from a Ukrainian defense minister. Ukrainian army commanders used to carry it during wartime.
One more thing: I love the footnotes in your book. Do you have a theory of footnotes?
Well, basically, I like to use footnotes to give a perspective which, if introduced into the body of the argument, would be diversionary but which nonetheless give the reader something of significance. I would have preferred that the footnotes appear at the bottom of the page, but the publisher, for economic reasons, insisted we put them at the end. I did succeed, however, in prevailing on the publisher to put them at the end of each chapter. In this way, the reader has to leaf through the pages and might get curious about some of them.
As a footnote, do you still play chess?
Oh, I play occasionally with one of my research assistants. You know, I play for pleasure.
Do you think you're getting better at it?
Probably not. I don't play often enough to get really good. But I'm not totally bad.
Tara McKelvey is a Prospect senior editor.
