How a Tragedy Changed Foreign Policy Making in America

By Shibley Telhami

Al-Qabas (Arabic) - Kuwait

One of the most important consequences of the tragedy that America experienced on September 11, 2001 for its policy was not only the change in its priorities, but also the change in the relative power of the American policy-making bureaucracies.  

 t is clear that when President Bush came to office in January 2001, his agenda was one of domestic politics, not foreign policy. His lack of knowledge, experience, and interest in foreign policy issues meant that he was bound to delegate such issues as policy toward the Middle East to others, especially Secretary of State Colin Powell, who was not only popular in America, but also experienced.  Although the White House continued to play a role in shaping the policy toward the Middle East in the first six months of the Bush Administration, it was also clear that substantive ideas came from the Department of State. Indeed, just prior to the attack on American soil, Mr. Powell had won a very important battle internally in persuading the White House to make Middle East diplomacy a higher priority and succeeded in gaining approval for what would have been an important speech that was readied before September 11^th and scheduled to be delivered on September 26 at the University of Maryland.   

But the tragedy that America experienced changed the role of the State Department significantly. It made foreign policy a top priority for President Bush, and therefore it elevated the role of the White House in all matters pertaining to foreign policy, especially those related to the Middle East.  And because the President staked his political future on the outcome of the war on terrorism, everything that he did in relation to that issue was

also bound to be evaluated in relation to domestic politics as well as foreign policy. In that sense, the role of his domestic advisors increased in importance, even in the shaping of foreign policy.  And because President Bush defined the war on terrorism largely in military terms, first through the war in Afghanistan, and second by contemplating war on Iraq, the role of the Pentagon in shaping foreign policy also increased.  

In the end, the State Department role broadly, and the role of Mr. Powell specifically, diminished in relative terms. This shift was in part institutional, an automatic response to shifting priorities.  But there was a philosophical shift that was only in part a reflection of the institutional change. It is clear, for example, that the political appointees in the Department of Defense, whose views were often at odds with the Department's professionals, had neo-conservative political orientations that highlighted the importance of the exercise of overwhelming American power to achieve political objectives.  They especially valued the strategic relationship with Israel in the policy toward the Middle East. Their views are shared not only by some in the White House, especially Vice President Cheney and his advisors, but also by an important constituency on the far right of the Republican party.  Thus, a formidable coalition emerged that was on the side of a neo-conservative paradigm for American foreign policy broadly and toward the Middle East specifically.   

Working in favor of this coalition is public sentiment in America that is understandably angry and fearful.  In this environment, moderate views are not especially popular. Those members of Congress who may favor restraint and patience in pursuit of American objectives can easily be politically exposed.  On the issue of Iraq, for example, it is difficult for Democratic members of Congress to challenge a popular president during a national crisis, lest they seem disloyal.  Knowing that the president ultimately has the final authority to wage war, they stand to lose if they opposed such a war, but found the US waging it and winning anyway.  None of them want to repeat the position they took in 1991 in opposing the war to expel Iraq from Kuwait. These calculations leave the field wide open for the neo-conservative coalition. 

Operating in this environment, Mr. Powell has envisioned his role as a force of moderation by presenting ideas and interpretations of the president's positions that would have the effect of changing the course charted by the neo-conservatives. This has been especially the case on matters related to the Arab-Israeli conflict.  But a review of events of the spring and summer of 2002 indicate that every time the State Department proposed ideas that moved the diplomatic process in its preferred direction, those ideas ultimately had unintended effects that took the process in a different direction. 

A good example was President Bush's speech last June in which he called for change of Palestinian leadership. The aim of the speech had changed substantially by the time it was delivered. Initially, it was tied to convening a Middle East peace conference this summer. When violence in the Middle East escalated in April and May, public opinion in the Middle East and in the United States pushed the administration to announce a new diplomatic initiative.  

After consulting with leaders from the region, Mr. Powell announced the intention to host a conference that would revive the Middle East peace process. But even before Mr. Powell had a chance to articulate details, the White House played down the idea, suggesting that the gathering would be a "meeting," not a "conference." Regardless of the nature of the gathering, the idea emerged that President Bush would deliver a speech in which he would lay out the American positions, especially the U.S. vision for a final settlement, in a way that would guide the agenda for such a gathering.  

To Washington observers, the question seemed to focus on the extent to which the speech would spell out the details of the U.S. vision, especially on the eventual borders between Israel and a Palestinian state. The State Department was seen to want more clarity while the White House and the Pentagon were viewed as aiming for breaking no new ground on U.S. positions on issues of a final peace settlement and focusing more on the need for Palestinian reforms.  

In the end, not only was the speech more pronounced on reform, but it added the new demand for a leadership change, broke no new ground on the parameters of a final settlement and omitted any reference to a conference. The idea of focusing on Palestinian reform emerged as a way of addressing genuine concerns about the functioning of the Palestinian Authority and diverting attention from the shining spotlight on Yasser Arafat that had put the administration's position in a box in April, when Israeli forces surrounded and pounded Mr. Arafat's headquarters in Ramallah.  

Throughout that crisis, Mr. Bush put the onus on Mr. Arafat even as Israeli forces pounded Palestinian cities and even though the U.S. position toward the Palestinian leader alienated people and governments in the Arab world. Mr. Sharon and many of his advisers felt that they finally had Mr. Arafat. But as public opinion in the Arab world rallied behind the Palestinian leader as a form of defiance, Mr. Bush demanded, after meeting with Crown Prince Abdullah of Saudi Arabia, that the siege of Mr. Arafat be ended. Mr. Sharon obliged, not only because he wanted to maintain the warm relationship that he had forged with Mr. Bush, but also because he saw it as the price to get Mr. Bush to support Israel's rejection of a U.N. mission to investigate Israel's military operation in Jenin.  

From this came the idea of focusing on Palestinian reform instead of on Mr. Arafat.  

For the State Department, this seemed a good move, if done well. It diverted attention from Mr. Arafat while shedding light on the real institutional problems of the PA. Everyone agrees on the need for reform, including the Palestinian public.  

But the State Department, like many in the Middle East and around the world, especially in Europe, was concerned that reform may be seen as a precondition for restarting peace negotiations. When the impression was given that the White House sees reform as a precondition, the State Department was quick to offer a different interpretation.  

Mr. Bush's speech made it stunningly clear in its insistence that not only was reform a precondition for U.S. support for a Palestinian state, but that there be a change in leadership. The most important incentive Mr. Bush put on the table for the Palestinians was statehood within three years. But who will interpret the degree to which the Palestinians will meet Mr. Bush's conditions before U.S. support materializes?  

Undoubtedly, those within the administration who see that true reform is not fully possible without progress in peace negotiations will continue to imagine that they can moderate the interpretation of what reforms mean, and nudge Mr. Bush toward a more active diplomatic role -- even if Mr. Arafat continues at the helm of the PA.  

But the trend of the past several months shows that this is wishful thinking. Whatever the intent of such ideas as Palestinian reform, the peace conference, or Mr. Bush's speech, the outcome did not match that intent. This reality should be sobering.  

Certainly, all U.S. administrations have had bureaucratic competition and differences of view, and much of that is healthy since no one benefits from group think. And certainly domestic politics and Congress always affect the priorities of every administration, and this, too, is part of the American democracy.  

But in this case, there is more: two conflicting views of the world, two paradigms, that coexist uncomfortably within the administration, with the compromise outcome not fully serving the interest of either–but one in particular has had the clear upper hand since the tragedy that befell America in September 2001. 

Shibley Telhami is Professor of government and politics politics at the University of Maryland and Nonresident Senior Fellow at the Brookings Institution.

Copyright © Al Qabas 2002