The Post-American World - Fareed Zakaria [122]
Some of foreign policy is what we do, but some of it is also who we are. Hubert Humphrey reputedly said that the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was one of the most important foreign policies of that decade. America the place has often been the great antidote to U.S. foreign policy. When American actions across the world have seemed harsh, misguided, or unfair, America itself has always been open, welcoming, and tolerant. I remember visiting the United States as a kid in the 1970s, at a time when, as a country, India was officially anti-American. The reality of the America that I experienced was a powerful refutation of the propaganda and caricatures of its enemies. But today, through inattention, fear, and bureaucratic cowardice, the caricature threatens to become reality.
At the end of the day, openness is America’s greatest strength. Many smart policy wonks have clever ideas that they believe will better American productivity, savings, and health care. More power to them all. But historically, America has succeeded not because of the ingenuity of its government programs but because of the vigor of its society. It has thrived because it has kept itself open to the world—to goods and services, to ideas and inventions, and, above all, to people and cultures. This openness has allowed us to respond quickly and flexibly to new economic times, to manage change and diversity with remarkable ease, and to push forward the boundaries of individual freedom and autonomy. It has allowed America to create the first universal nation, a place where people from all over the world can work, mingle, mix, and share in a common dream and a common destiny.
In the fall of 1982, I arrived here as an eighteen-year-old student from India, eight thousand miles away. America was in rough shape. That December, unemployment hit 10.8 percent, higher than at any point since World War II. Interest rates hovered around 15 percent. Vietnam, Watergate, the energy crisis, and the Iranian hostage crisis had all battered American confidence. Images of the helicopters on the roof of the American Embassy in Saigon, of Nixon resigning, of long lines at gas stations, and of the hostages blindfolded were all fresh in people’s minds. The Soviet Union was on a roll, expanding its influence far beyond its borders, from Afghanistan to Angola to Central America. That June, Israel invaded Lebanon, making a volatile situation in the Middle East even more tense.
Yet America was a strikingly open and expansive country. Reagan embodied it. Despite record-low approval ratings at the time, he exuded optimism from the center of the storm. In the face of Moscow’s rising power, he confidently spoke of a mortal crisis in the Soviet system and predicted that it would end up on “the ash heap of history.” Across the political aisle stood Thomas (Tip) O’Neill, the hearty Irish-American Speaker of the House, who personified the generosity and tolerance of old-school liberalism. Everywhere I went, the atmosphere was warm and welcoming. It was a feeling I had never had before, a country wide open to the world, to the future, and to anyone who loved it. To a young visitor, it seemed to offer unlimited generosity and promise.
For America to thrive in this new and challenging era, for it to succeed amid the rise of the rest, it need fulfill only one test. It