The Audacity of Hope

as Wilson’s stubborn unwillingness to compromise, the Senate refused to ratify U.S.
membership in the League.
For the next twenty years, America turned resolutely inward—reducing its army and
navy, refusing to join the World Court, standing idly by as Italy, Japan, and Nazi
Germany built up their military machines. The Senate became a hotbed of isolationism,
passing a Neutrality Act that prevented the United States from lending assistance to
countries invaded by the Axis powers, and repeatedly ignoring the President’s appeals
as Hitler’s armies marched across Europe. Not until the bombing of Pearl Harbor would
America realize its terrible mistake. “There is no such thing as security for any nation—
or any individual—in a world ruled by the principles of gangsterism,” FDR would say
in his national address after the attack. “We cannot measure our safety in terms of miles
on any map any more.”
In the aftermath of World War II, the United States would have a chance to apply these
lessons to its foreign policy. With Europe and Japan in ruins, the Soviet Union bled
white by its battles on the Eastern Front but already signaling its intentions to spread its
brand of totalitarian communism as far as it could, America faced a choice. There were
those on the right who argued that only a unilateral foreign policy and an immediate
invasion of the Soviet Union could disable the emerging communist threat. And
although isolationism of the sort that prevailed in the thirties was now thoroughly
discredited, there were those on the left who downplayed Soviet aggression, arguing
that given Soviet losses and the country’s critical role in the Allied victory, Stalin
should be accommodated.
America took neither path. Instead, the postwar leadership of President Truman, Dean
Acheson, George Marshall, and George Kennan crafted the architecture of a new,
postwar order that married Wilson’s idealism to hardheaded realism, an acceptance of
America’s power with a humility regarding America’s ability to control events around
the world. Yes, these men argued, the world is a dangerous place, and the Soviet threat
is real; America needed to maintain its military dominance and be prepared to use force
in defense of its interests across the globe. But even the power of the United States was
finite—and because the battle against communism was also a battle of ideas, a test of
what system might best serve the hopes and dreams of billions of people around the
world, military might alone could not ensure America’s long-term prosperity or
security.
What America needed, then, were stable allies—allies that shared the ideals of freedom,
democracy, and the rule of law, and that saw themselves as having a stake in a marketbased
economic system. Such alliances, both military and economic, entered into freely
and maintained by mutual consent, would be more lasting—and stir less resentment—
than any collection of vassal states American imperialism might secure. Likewise, it
was in America’s interest to work with other countries to build up international
institutions and promote international norms. Not because of a naive assumption that
international laws and treaties alone would end conflicts among nations or eliminate the
need for American military action, but because the more international norms were
reinforced and the more America signaled a willingness to show restraint in the exercise
of its power, the fewer the number of conflicts that would arise—and the more
legitimate our actions would appear in the eyes of the world when we did have to move
militarily.