The Post-American World - Fareed Zakaria [103]
7
American Purpose
When historians try to understand the world of the early twenty-first century, they should take note of the Parsley crisis. In July 2002, the government of Morocco sent twelve soldiers to a tiny island called Leila, a few hundred feet off its coast, in the Straits of Gibraltar, and planted its flag there. The island is uninhabited, except for some goats, and all that thrives on it is wild parsley, hence its Spanish name, Perejil. But its sovereignty had long been contested by Morocco and Spain, and the Spanish government reacted forcefully to the Moroccan “aggression.” Within a couple of weeks, seventy-five Spanish soldiers had been airlifted onto the island. They pulled down the Moroccan flag, hoisted two Spanish flags, and sent the Moroccans home. The Moroccan government denounced the “act of war” and organized rallies, where scores of young men chanted, “Our souls and our blood are sacrifices to you, Leila!” Spain kept its military helicopters hovering over the island and its warships off the coast of Morocco. From afar, the whole affair looked like a comic opera. But however absurd it may have seemed, someone was going to have to talk the two countries down.
That role fell not to the United Nations, or to the European Union, or to a friendly European country like France, which has good relations with both sides. It fell to the United States. “I kept thinking to myself, ‘What do I have to do with any of this? Why are we—the United States—in the middle of it?’” then–Secretary of State Colin Powell recalled amusedly. Once it became clear that nothing else was working, he began a hectic round of telephone diplomacy, placing more than a dozen calls to the Moroccan king and foreign minister late into Friday night and Saturday morning. “I decided that I had to push for a compromise fast because otherwise pride takes over, positions harden, and people get stubborn,” said Powell. “It was getting to be evening in the Mediterranean. And my grandkids were going to come over soon for a swim!” So Powell drafted an agreement on his home computer, got both sides to accept it, then signed for each side himself, and faxed it over to Spain and Morocco. The countries agreed to leave the island unoccupied and begin talks, in Rabat, about its future status. The two governments issued statements thanking the United States for helping to resolve the crisis. And Colin Powell got to go swimming with his grandkids.
It is a small example, but a telling one. The United States has no interests in the Strait of Gibraltar. Unlike the European Union, it has no special leverage with Spain or Morocco. Unlike the United Nations, it cannot speak for the international community. But it was the only country that could resolve the dispute, for a simple, fundamental reason. In a unipolar world, it is the single superpower.
The summer of 2002 will be seen as the high-water mark of unipolarity, America’s Roman moment. The decade leading up to it was a heady time. The economy was roaring, productivity growth was higher than it had been in decades, Washington was churning out massive surpluses, the dollar was sky-high, and American CEOs were global superstars. Then the world saw the United States brutally attacked in September 2001, producing feelings of sympathy as well as some quiet glee that even a superpower could be humbled. But soon, while America felt weak and vulnerable, the world watched it respond to 9/11 on a scale that was unimaginable