Back to the Womb? Isolationsm's Renewed Threat
U.S. isolationism has risen yet again from the grave. The new Republican Congress threatens Wilson's and F.D.R.'s magnificent dream of collective security.
Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr., is Professor Emeritus in the Humanities at the Graduate School and University Center, the City University of New York. This article is drawn from his George W. Ball Lecture, delivered at Princeton University in April.
American isolationism is an ambiguous concept. The United States has never been isolationist with regard to commerce. Our merchant vessels roamed the seven seas from the first days of independence. Nor has the United States been isolationist with regard to culture. Our writers, artists, scholars, missionaries, and tourists have ever wandered eagerly about the planet. But through most of its history, the republic has been isolationist with regard to foreign policy. From the start, Americans sought to safeguard their daring new adventure in government by shunning foreign entanglements and quarrels. George Washington admonished his countrymen to "steer clear of permanent alliances," and Thomas Jefferson warned them against "entangling alliances."
Only a direct threat to national security could justify entry into foreign wars. The military domination of Europe by a single power has always been considered such a threat. "It cannot be to our interest," Jefferson observed when Napoleon bestrode the continent, "that all Europe should be reduced to a single monarchy." America would be forever in danger, he said, should "the whole force of Europe [be] wielded by a single hand." But between Napoleon and the kaiser, no such threat arose, and Americans became settled in their determination to avoid ensnarement in the corrupt and corrupting world. Isolationism, in this political sense, was national policy.
Then World War I revived the Jeffersonian warning. Once again, as in the time of Napoleon, the force of Europe might have been wielded by a single hand. A balance of power in Europe served American interests as it had served British ones. The United States entered the Great War in its own national interest. But for Woodrow Wilson, national interest was not enough to excuse the sacrifice and horror of war. His need for a loftier justification led him to offer his country and the world a strikingly bold American vision.
This is a premium article
You must be a logged in Foreign Affairs subscriber to continue reading. If you wish to continue reading this article please subscribe , or activate your online account to get full online access.
Log In
Buy PDF
Buy a premium PDF reprint of this article.Related
When the global rate of population growth accelerated and reached an all-time high in the 1960s, the United States established foreign population assistance. In the 1980s, as ideological forces came into play, Washington reversed its position and forfeited its commanding role. The United States needs now to recapture its leadership role on population issues; a "continuation of this self-inflicted blindness to demographic insights is increasingly dangerous for U.S. foreign policy.
After the Cold War, the demands on American leadership are no less stern than they were in Dean Acheson's day. Present again at the creation, U.S. diplomacy must pass a series of tests -- of vision, pragmatism, spine, and principle -- to build a foundation for a new world. This will mean encouraging democracy, stopping the spread of weapons of mass destruction, working to shore up the international financial system, engaging Beijing, and standing up to Baghdad and Belgrade. But America needs resources to lead, and Congress has foreign policy living hand-to-mouth. America cannot afford to abdicate its world role.
Why is America alone in defending the West's far-flung interests? NATO allies can project power too, instead of waiting for a helping hand from across the ocean.

Sign-up for free weekly updates from ForeignAffairs.com.