
The selection of issues that should rank high on the agenda of concern for human welfare and rights is, naturally, a subjective matter.
But there are a few choices that seem unavoidable, because they bear so directly on the prospects for decent survival. Among them are at least these three: nuclear war, environmental disaster and the fact that the government of the world's leading power is acting in ways that increase the likelihood of these catastrophes.
It is important to stress the “government,” because the population, not surprisingly, does not agree. That brings up a fourth issue that should deeply concern Americans, and the world: the sharp divide between public opinion and public policy, one of the reasons for the fear, which cannot casually be put aside, that “the American ‘system’ as a whole is in real trouble—that it is heading in a direction that spells the end of its historic values (of) equality, liberty and meaningful democracy,” as Gar Alperovitz observes in “America Beyond Capitalism.”
The “system” is coming to have some of the features of failed states, to adopt a currently fashionable notion that is conventionally applied to states regarded as potential threats to our security (like Iraq) or as needing our intervention to rescue the population from severe internal threats (like Haiti).
The definition of “failed states” is hardly scientific. But they share some primary characteristics. They are unable or unwilling to protect their citizens from violence and perhaps even destruction. They regard themselves as beyond the reach of domestic or international law, hence free to carry out aggression and violence. And if they have democratic forms, they suffer from a serious “democratic deficit” that deprives their formal democratic institutions of real substance.
One of the hardest tasks that anyone can undertake, and among the most important, is to look honestly in the mirror. If we allow ourselves to do so, we should have little difficulty in finding the characteristics of “failed states” right at home.
That recognition of reality should be deeply troubling to those who care about their countries and future generations—"countries," plural, first because of the enormous reach of U.S. power, but also because the problems are not localized in space or time, though there are important variations, of particular significance for U.S. citizens.
The “democratic deficit” was illustrated clearly by the 2004 elections. The results led to exultation in some quarters, despair in others and much concern about a “divided nation.” Colin Powell informed the press that “President George W. Bush has won a mandate from the American people to continue pursuing his ‘aggressive’ foreign policy.”
That is far from true. It is also very far from what the population believes. After the elections, Gallup asked whether Bush “should emphasize programs that both parties support,” or whether he “has a mandate to advance the Republican Party's agenda,” as Powell and others claimed—and 63 percent chose the former option; 29 percent the latter.
The elections conferred no mandate for anything, in fact, they barely took place, in any serious sense of the term “election.”
History provides ample evidence of Washington’s disregard for international laws and norms, reaching new heights today. Granted, there have always been pretexts, but that is true of every state that resorts to force at will.
Throughout the Cold War years, the framework of “defense against Communist aggression” was available to mobilize domestic support for countless interventions abroad. Then at last the communist-menace device began to wear thin. By 1979, “the Soviets were influencing only 6 percent of the world population and 5 percent of the world GNP” outside its borders, according to the Center for Defense Information. The basic picture was becoming harder to evade.
The government also faced domestic problems, notably the civilizing effects of the activism of the 1960s, which had many consequences, among them less willingness to tolerate the resort to violence.