Once the dust eventually settles on the foreign policies of the George W. Bush administration, it is to be hoped that academic critiques of US policy since 2001 can assume a less partisan tone. Broadly speaking, books and articles on the administration's efforts to successfully fight the “war on terror” have either strongly supported the administration or, more typically, severely castigated its efforts. There has been little in between these two options: polemics or hagiographies have been the order of the day. In his richly argued new book, Frustrated Empire, David Ryan provides an illustration as to how a more nuanced analysis can be developed; by doing so, he offers an engaging and devastating critique of the Bush administration's policies.
What Ryan's work shows is that it is possible to be opposed to the war in Iraq without begin blindly polemical, to be critical without being anti-American, to counter the universalistic rhetoric of the administration without resorting to egregious “Bush-bashing.” It is an approach that is most welcome and long overdue. He achieves this by situating the Bush administration's approach within the deep-rooted ideologies and meta-narratives that have traditionally underpinned US foreign policy. And, in doing so, he discerns the key – and seemingly irreconcilable – problem at the heart of US policy: the incompatibility of American power and American ideals. “How does one restore the narratives of liberty, democracy and self-determination or reconcile them with the growth and spread of US power?” he asks. “How does one restore agency to these meta-narratives of US diplomacy that would move the masses to the ideological and teleological terminus associated with the ‘End of History’?” (7).
As the book progresses, it becomes increasingly clear that these contradictions are unlikely to be addressed anytime soon. American pre-eminence precludes necessary pluralism: international accord has to adhere to US models, and the clash between power and idealism remains. America, as Ryan argues, “Decides what freedom means” and rules “what justice comprises.” “Consequently there is a widespread belief that US-style universalism has left very little room for greater pluralism within the global order, that other people might have very different conceptions, traditions and practices of democracy, freedom and justice” (52). Within such constructs, true reconciliation between nations espousing differing political, economic, ideological or religious models becomes intensely difficult – if not impossible. Reconciliation and engagement are completely overwhelmed by the level of assumption inherent in US policy. Despite much evidence to the contrary, Washington continues to hold that “the US system is the best in the world and that all others will want to strive towards that end in history” (145). The longer US policymakers continue to promote this idea – and buy into the assumption that their model is inherently superior – the more problems they will encounter with anti-American sentiments.
The book's most powerful argument, however, comes with the critique that, in its militaristic response to the tragic terrorist attacks in 2001, the Bush administration has passed over the opportunity to re-examine America's position in the world and to take stock of the deep-lying cultural and political issues that motivate extremist vitriol toward the US. There has been no engagement with the broader issues, no effort to learn difficult lessons. Instead, as Ryan argues, “The suffering of the days after 9/11 was quickly politicised. The appropriate political context of the attacks was ignored as 9/11 was reduced to a potent symbol and the basis for a semiotic instruction” (119).
Even with the benefit of hindsight, and the necessary tempering of US foreign policy during the second Bush administration, there is little evidence of any substantive shift toward a more balanced view of US policy emerging. Opinions, like the rhetoric used to construct the parameters of the war on terror, remain rooted in binary, Manichean terms. After reading the book, therefore, its central lessons remain pertinent. When confronted with repetitive proclamations that the US is now “winning” the war in Iraq, Ryan's book is especially timely in outlining the potential futility of such bravado. For, to invert a famous saying, while the US might – at least according to some commentators – be winning the battle in Iraq, there is precious little evidence that they are winning the war. Studies like this one raise hope that more balanced examinations of the themes underpinning the war on terror might not be too far away.
