Redefine greatness

I don’t usually write columns, and I’m not on Twitter. Call me an introvert. Yet, as I read with interest a piece titled “Greatness” in the Jan. 11 edition of The Chronicle, I felt it needed a response. So, in poorly but honestly written lines I will try to articulate the most problematic aspects of the author’s claims and views conveyed in her column.

To begin, I thought that the obviously passionate interest for discussing the philosophy of international relations that the author has shown at the beginning of her undergraduate studies is a great sign of academic potential, helpful in future intellectual pursuits. That being said, it is understandable that one should think that a grand topic, such as America’s role in global politics, will make for a grand column. However, it won’t—one specific political incident was enough for Emile Zola to write one of the most influential columns in modern history, “J’accuse.” Good writing comes from the author, not his topic. And an uninformed, pretentious and largely naïve take on global politics results in critical replies like this one.

The main premise of Praveen’s column is a romantic and idealized picture of the U.S. as an enlightening savior of a victimized world suffering from irrational conflict, retrograde ideologies and primitivism. To illustrate it in her words, “If our country backs down, the world will return to the feudalism of the Dark Ages—petty princes baying not for the kingdom but for whatever they can get. There is no one nation that can or will step in as a behemoth as we once did … to keep petty nations from their citizens and from one another.” Now, this is just a much distorted view of how the world is. I certainly do not intend to offer an alternative grand scheme of things, but I am pretty sure that there is more to the rest of the world than a bunch of small-town autocrats leading Lilliput nations into tribal conflicts. This essentially neo-colonial notion, masked by missionary slogans, just screams ignorance. Yes, there are serious national and regional conflicts, political and economic crises that require a strong international response and America’s engagement—but to say that without the U.S. leadership the world would drown into medieval chaos, violence and despotism is just silly. It can also sound kind of offensive, if, God forbid, it is misinterpreted as a total lack of respect for any other country (some of whom are America’s partners and allies).

I was also surprised that the author mentions soft power in the context of the NATO bombing of Yugoslavia. Besides the bombings occurring in 1999, not in 1998, the concept of soft power doesn’t really click with military interventions. Besides the “hard” power of its military, a country such as the U.S. has numerous other mechanisms through which it can influence global politics—diplomatic, political and cultural, among other ways. In the mentioned SFRY example, the chosen option (what Praveen called “the precision of our bombers”) hit hospitals, bridges, 500 civilians and an old airport next to a school where a class of 30 kids was trying to get through with their algebra. One of them was me. It is my perhaps biased opinion that, in this century, the way to “win victories,” as the author calls it, should increasingly rely on the ever-greater “soft” power of diplomacy, ideas of constitutional liberalism, emancipation and social networking. Even within the narrow messianic perspective that the author adopts, leading by example is much more efficient than exemplifying brute force. And dismissing the international community as America’s underdeveloped backyard is definitely counterproductive.

To conclude, I hope the author of “Greatness” will take an international relations course. Furthermore, I suggest her to take advantage of a surprisingly indicative closing line in her own column, “We will guard our morsel just as Russia guards Eastern Europe, Saudi Arabia guards the Gulf and China guards South-East Asia.” The “morsel” analogy in the context of the country’s neighbors should give a lot of food for thought. A morsel usually gets eaten. In this sense, the analogy raises the question of purpose—what’s the point in saving the world if the intention is to make it a bigger morsel? It’s rather hard to see altruism there. And, although in the context of contemporary Realpolitik, altruism is kind of important if your ambition is to save the world.

Fedja Pavlovic is a Trinity sophomore.