Ganging Up on Gulliver

People don't like power when it's not theirs, and they like it even less when they keep falling behind. This is the underlying dynamic that drives Europe's discomfort about the United States: a widening gap between No. 1 and the rest. How is it articulated? The script is practically boilerplate. In polite government circles, the mantra is "unilateralism." Translation: "Those Americans throw their weight around. They respect neither treaties nor traditions. They don't care about their allies unless they need some special forces for Tora Bora. They bestride the world as if it were the Rose Garden of the White House — all theirs." In less polite circles, such as those that turned Berlin into an anti-American free-for-all while George W. visited last week, the message is harsher. The funniest poster read: "Peace for the World, Pretzels for Bush." Others called him a "war monger" who was "not welcome," his face circled in red and bisected by a slashing red line. Some placards accused him of slaughtering the innocents of Afghanistan under the pretext of fighting terrorism and of preparing for the incineration of Iraq in "Phase II." You might have thought it was not the American President flying in for a chat, but Genghis Khan and Mussolini rolled into one.

So much for the theatrics of globalized protest as perfected in Seattle, Prague and Genoa. But there is much more to the drama. Here are some numbers. Total defense expenditure in the world is around $800 billion. The U.S. is good for $331 billion of that, meaning No. 1 spends almost as much on bombs and bullets as all the others combined. A few months back, Bush asked Congress for a $48 billion increase in U.S. defense spending. The add-on is more than twice as much as the entire defense budget of Germany, not exactly a dwarf among the nations.

With the possible exception of Rome, no country has ever commanded such a vast lead over all the others. Nor is that power counterbalanced any longer by a worthy rival such as the Soviet Union. The U.S. is like an XXL-size Gulliver, and even his friends worry about him. The Europeans worry even more when Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld says "the mission determines the coalition, and not the other way round." In other words: "We'll call you when we need you."

Nor are the Europeans assured when the U.S. turns its back on all kinds of international agreements like the landmine ban, the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty or the International Criminal Court (ICC). The smaller players frame the issue in terms of goodness; the real game, however, is power, and both sides know it.

What is the logic? For the U.S., land mines come in handy when its intervention forces in the Balkans or the Middle East need protection against a counterattack. Ditto missile defense: invulnerability to nuclear strikes makes it so much easier to, say, defend Taiwan against a Chinese assault. Or to go after Saddam and his chemical-tipped Scuds. Why does Bush dislike the ICC? Obviously, he does not want international bodies passing judgment on U.S. nationals involved in military actions not sanctified by U.N. resolutions. For the others, the object is precisely the opposite. They want to entangle Gulliver in myriad ropes, to keep him safely tied down. But great powers do not like international institutions they cannot dominate, where it is one nation, one vote. This is the crux of the matter, and it riles the European soul that the giant in their midst prefers to be the Lone Ranger, not the community-minded cop.

This game will not subside soon. But what is America's long-term interest? Is it wise to slap punitive tariffs on steel and almost double the subsidies for American farmers? The U.S. is also No. 1 in trade; it could not possibly flourish if barriers go up in retaliation, especially in agriculture where the U.S. is one of the most efficient producers. Nor is "don't call us, we'll call you" the essence of intelligent statecraft. How do you combat global terrorism or inflict embargoes on Iraq unless all the major players join you?

In its glory days, U.S. diplomacy was a lot smarter. It took care of its own by taking care of others. It built international institutions — NATO, the World Bank, the World Trade Organization — that advanced American interests, military and economic, along with those of others. Today, the U.S. is more prone to rend than to mend the international fabric. But why should Gulliver bear the ropes? Easy. Better to contain yourself than to have others gang up on you. This has been the fate of all hegemonic powers from Napoleon's France to Stalin's Russia. Gulliver did well for himself by doing good for others. He got into trouble when he forgot etiquette and emptied his bladder on the royal palace of the Lilliputians.