A thuggish Chinese ambassador once told the people of Sweden that Beijing would “treat our friends with fine wine but for our enemies we’ve got shotguns”.
America under Donald Trump seems determined to reverse this dictum, favouring Vladimir Putin’s Russia with the diplomatic version of a case of vintage while giving Volodymyr Zelensky two barrels of finest vitriol in the Oval Office.
Trump and his acolytes might think they are being clever and, true enough, they have shocked Britain and most of Europe into spending more on defence and getting serious about their continent’s security, symbolised by the emergency summit in London today.
Yet Team Trump are also challenging not just Washington’s 80-year foreign policy consensus but the whole idea of what it means to be a superpower.
Henry Kissinger argued that America’s pre-eminence rested upon the related concepts of “linkage” and “credibility”. By “linkage” he meant that a superpower’s actions anywhere could affect its standing everywhere.
And Kissinger said: “Credibility for a state plays the role of character for a human being. It provides a guarantee that its assurances can be relied upon by friends and its threats taken seriously by adversaries. It is a key component of strategy.”
Trump is casting this to the winds with consequences that go beyond the fate of Ukraine or the future of the Atlantic alliance. If the ghost of Henry Kissinger appeared in the White House, it would warn the President that by questioning America’s security guarantees in Europe, he will inevitably cast doubt over his treaty obligations in Asia.
If Trump will not fight for France or Germany, or any Nato ally that underspends on defence, then why should China believe that America would go to war for Japan, let alone Taiwan?
If Trump will not defend Paris or Berlin, why should Xi Jinping be convinced that America would risk everything for Tokyo or Taipei? And why should Kim Jong-un in North Korea think that Trump would fight for Seoul or defend South Korea? If America is threatening to abandon Europe today, why not Asia tomorrow?
All of Trump’s predecessors since Truman understood that America cannot be selective about its security guarantees: either all of them are deadly serious, or none of them are.
If Trump decides on the latter, what would that entail for US interests? America’s number one economic relationship is with Europe: nothing compares with the gargantuan flow of goods, services and investment across the Atlantic, with trade alone exceeding £1.3 trillion.
Does Trump grasp the consequences of being indifferent to the fate of a continent on which millions of American jobs and livelihoods depend? And what if Kissinger was right and the knock-on effect of cutting Europe loose would be to embolden China and risk handing dominance of Asia to Xi?
In Washington the “prioritisers” say that America can turn away from Europe and concentrate on the struggle against China in Asia. In truth, they are proffering snakeoil. Superpowers do not choose between continents. They exercise power globally, supporting any ally and opposing any foe, understanding that their word is credible everywhere or nowhere. That is what being globally pre-eminent means.
Behind this lies not a naive willingness to be exploited by feckless allies but ruthless self interest. In his masterpiece Diplomacy, Kissinger wrote: “The domination by a single power of either of Eurasia’s two principal spheres – Europe or Asia – remains a good definition of strategic danger for America, Cold War or no Cold War. For such a grouping would have the capacity to outstrip America economically and, in the end, militarily. That danger would have to be resisted.”
Resisting that danger is the purpose of America’s web of global alliances, painstakingly constructed over decades. Unless he changes course, and remembers the right recipients of wine and shotguns, the tale of Trump’s foreign policy may be the tale of the abdication of a superpower.
A thuggish Chinese ambassador once told the people of Sweden that Beijing would “treat our friends with fine wine but for our enemies we’ve got shotguns”.
America under Donald Trump seems determined to reverse this dictum, favouring Vladimir Putin’s Russia with the diplomatic version of a case of vintage while giving Volodymyr Zelensky two barrels of finest vitriol in the Oval Office.
Trump and his acolytes might think they are being clever and, true enough, they have shocked Britain and most of Europe into spending more on defence and getting serious about their continent’s security, symbolised by the emergency summit in London today.
Yet Team Trump are also challenging not just Washington’s 80-year foreign policy consensus but the whole idea of what it means to be a superpower.
Henry Kissinger argued that America’s pre-eminence rested upon the related concepts of “linkage” and “credibility”. By “linkage” he meant that a superpower’s actions anywhere could affect its standing everywhere.
And Kissinger said: “Credibility for a state plays the role of character for a human being. It provides a guarantee that its assurances can be relied upon by friends and its threats taken seriously by adversaries. It is a key component of strategy.”
Trump is casting this to the winds with consequences that go beyond the fate of Ukraine or the future of the Atlantic alliance. If the ghost of Henry Kissinger appeared in the White House, it would warn the President that by questioning America’s security guarantees in Europe, he will inevitably cast doubt over his treaty obligations in Asia.
If Trump will not fight for France or Germany, or any Nato ally that underspends on defence, then why should China believe that America would go to war for Japan, let alone Taiwan?
If Trump will not defend Paris or Berlin, why should Xi Jinping be convinced that America would risk everything for Tokyo or Taipei? And why should Kim Jong-un in North Korea think that Trump would fight for Seoul or defend South Korea? If America is threatening to abandon Europe today, why not Asia tomorrow?
All of Trump’s predecessors since Truman understood that America cannot be selective about its security guarantees: either all of them are deadly serious, or none of them are.
If Trump decides on the latter, what would that entail for US interests? America’s number one economic relationship is with Europe: nothing compares with the gargantuan flow of goods, services and investment across the Atlantic, with trade alone exceeding £1.3 trillion.
Does Trump grasp the consequences of being indifferent to the fate of a continent on which millions of American jobs and livelihoods depend? And what if Kissinger was right and the knock-on effect of cutting Europe loose would be to embolden China and risk handing dominance of Asia to Xi?
In Washington the “prioritisers” say that America can turn away from Europe and concentrate on the struggle against China in Asia. In truth, they are proffering snakeoil. Superpowers do not choose between continents. They exercise power globally, supporting any ally and opposing any foe, understanding that their word is credible everywhere or nowhere. That is what being globally pre-eminent means.
Behind this lies not a naive willingness to be exploited by feckless allies but ruthless self interest. In his masterpiece Diplomacy, Kissinger wrote: “The domination by a single power of either of Eurasia’s two principal spheres – Europe or Asia – remains a good definition of strategic danger for America, Cold War or no Cold War. For such a grouping would have the capacity to outstrip America economically and, in the end, militarily. That danger would have to be resisted.”
Resisting that danger is the purpose of America’s web of global alliances, painstakingly constructed over decades. Unless he changes course, and remembers the right recipients of wine and shotguns, the tale of Trump’s foreign policy may be the tale of the abdication of a superpower.