Restraint: A post-COVID-19 U.S. national security strategy
The response to the COVID-19 pandemic has weakened the U.S. economy, the foundation of its national power. This has implications for U.S. foreign policy.
Health and economic fallout from COVID-19 makes setting realistic defense priorities more urgent
The response to the coronavirus global pandemic has severely weakened the U.S. economy, the foundation of national power. This reality has vast implications for U.S. foreign policy.
Two economic factors suggest narrowing U.S. foreign policy objectives: (1) U.S. GDP and tax revenue will shrink in 2020, with no certainty about when they might recover. (2) Record deficits and debt endanger future economic growth.
Political reasons for foreign policy restraint augment those economic factors: The public increasingly perceives non-security risks are paramount, and priority will go to domestic spending that aids recovery and increases domestic institutional resilience.
Federal discretionary spending will bear a greater burden because mandatory spending programs are politically harder to cut. Since defense accounts for nearly half of discretionary spending, DoD will likely face sustained cuts.
The U.S. enjoys a favorable geostrategic position with abundant protection from rivals, so it can cut defense spending without compromising security. Indeed, ending peripheral commitments in favor of core security interests strengthens the U.S.
Ending policies bringing failure, overstretch, and drained coffers always made sense—coronavirus makes the case more urgent.
U.S. federal budget authority by category (FY 2019)
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="2284"] Declining GDP and tax revenue and increased domestic spending post-COVID-19 will put downward pressure on DoD budgets.[/caption]
Abandon peripheral missions abroad and focus on core U.S. security and prosperity
As the pandemic demonstrates, non-military threats can be far more detrimental to Americans’ well-being than the non-state actors, rogue states, and authoritarian regimes that dominate military planning and drive DoD spending.
The decades-long pursuit of overly ambitious foreign policy goals disconnected from U.S. security contributed to the neglect of U.S. domestic institutions exposed by the coronavirus pandemic.
Recovering requires investment at home: education, health care, infrastructure, research and development, and policies that promote innovation and job creation.
For the past 20 years, the U.S. spent roughly $1 trillion annually on defense-related objectives (DoD, veteran’s care, homeland security, nuclear weapons, diplomacy) while domestic infrastructure in critical industries went under-resourced.
Rebalancing defense priorities to focus more on economic prosperity and public health will enhance U.S. power in the long term.
Middle East: Reduce overinvestment and military presence, which has backfired and weakened the U.S.
Core Middle East interests are (1) preventing significant disruptions to global oil supply and (2) defending against anti-U.S. terror threats. The former requires minimal U.S. effort; the latter requires intelligence, cooperation, and limited strikes, not occupations.
The Middle East accounts for just 4 percent of global GDP, yet for decades, the U.S. has attempted to reshape the region through military force, disrupting the regional balance of power, exacerbating political instability, and allowing terrorist groups to flourish.
Today, the U.S. has 62,000 troops in the region, many of them vulnerable to attacks by local militias. The U.S. is also fighting wars in Iraq, Syria, and Yemen, largely based on exaggerated fears of Iran, a middling power contained by its local rivals.
The U.S. will be able to fund part of its coronavirus recovery by ending its participation in conflicts in the Middle East and nearby areas, such as Afghanistan and Somalia. This would free up tens of billions of dollars annually for higher priorities.
Additional savings can be had by focusing the Pentagon on its core warfighting missions and right-sizing force structure—reducing ground forces in particular, which have been swollen by these commitments.
The U.S., Europe, and Asia account for 81 percent of global GDP
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="2280"] The U.S., Europe, and East Asia are the hubs of the global economy, making them more important to U.S. security and prosperity than the Middle East.[/caption]
Europe: Shift security burdens to wealthy allies
The U.S. has strong economic and diplomatic interests in Europe, but the continent faces limited direct military threats. Despite the fall of the USSR, the U.S. maintains a heavy military footprint in Europe in the name of securing wealthy, relatively safe allies.
This arrangement served U.S. interests when a big U.S. military presence in Europe balanced the USSR’s military might while enabling allies to recover economically and unify.
As allies grew rich and the USSR collapsed, a sensible balancing policy became a subsidy that let wealthy allies “cheap ride” on U.S. taxpayers, driving excess DoD spending while subsidizing lavish social welfare programs for European nations.
Russia is a declining power (with a large nuclear arsenal). The EU dominates Russia in important metrics of national power: 3½:1 population, 11:1 GDP, and 5:1 military spending. European economies are also more dynamic than Russia’s.
Instead of jawboning allies for shirking their obligations, U.S. policy should shift the security burden onto them by (1) ending the European Defense Initiative and (2) implementing a responsible draw down of U.S. ground and nuclear forces on the continent.
This would not only free up finite U.S. resources for higher priorities at home or in Asia, but also encourage European allies to revitalize their militaries: increasing spending, prioritizing modernization, or increasing military cooperation with each other.
Asia: Fortify Asian allies with A2/AD capabilities to deter Chinese aggression at less risk
U.S. policy toward China—the only conceivable strategic competitor—balances several key interests: deterring Chinese territorial expansion against Asian allies, avoiding war, and ensuring a fair and beneficial trading relationship.
Efforts to balance against China should therefore be based on core U.S. interests and carefully designed and planned to reduce cost, minimize escalation risks, and protect trade.
U.S. goals in Asia are inherently defensive (to preserve the territorial status quo) and are best served by a military approach of “defensive defense”: an operational concept that limits U.S. costs by encouraging allies to develop their defensive capabilities.
By improving anti-access/area denial (A2/AD) capabilities—a network of sensors and missiles—U.S. allies can deter Chinese attacks more effectively and cheaply than via investment in aircraft and surface ships that mimic U.S. capabilities.
Allied defensive capability is less threatening to China than U.S. offensive capability. Reducing the perceived threat of direct attacks, A2/AD is less prone to spark costly, counterproductive arms racing.
Pressing allies to adopt this approach will allow the U.S. to jettison escalatory plans to defend them by attacking the Chinese mainland, lowering tensions and risks of a broader war with China and allowing for cost saving on U.S. forces in Asia.
U.S. force structure: Constrained DoD budgets means more tradeoffs and rebalancing among the services
With the world’s most sophisticated nuclear arsenal, large oceans separating it from rivals, and weak neighbors, the U.S. has a unique advantage over every other nation—security is abundant and cheap.
The U.S. accounts for 40 percent of global military spending—treaty allies account for 22 percent; Russia and China account for 17 percent. The 2020 DoD budget ($757 billion) exceeds Cold War highs in real terms, reflecting a false sense of insecurity.
Reduced DoD budgets can force debate and prioritization among programs and services—between what contributes to U.S. security and what is peripheral or even counterproductive—that large spending authorizations prevent.
Geography makes the U.S. a natural naval power and trading nation. Distance from other major states means the U.S. is perceived as less threatening—unlike China, which borders other Eurasia powers.
The Navy is the key service for projecting U.S. power globally and defending commerce if necessary while avoiding costly occupations. The Navy should command a larger portion of DoD’s reduced budget.
With no nation building and a large reservist pool, the U.S. can reduce Army, Marines, and special operations forces end strength.
Mission-driven reductions to force structure generate savings on personnel and procurement, enabling savings on operational costs, administrative overhead, basing, and other support functions.
U.S. military spending compared to allies and competitors
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="2284"] Total U.S. military spending vs. the rest of the world[/caption]
No major or regional powers are unscathed by the pandemic—strategic thinking will determine who comes out stronger
The pandemic has hit all major powers hard, including U.S. adversaries; the economic pain is well distributed.
China announced its GDP contracted at 6.8 percent in the first quarter of 2020, the first decline since 1976. The CCP relies on steady economic growth for legitimacy, and in a nation with almost no social safety net, job losses could breed discontent.
While earning some goodwill, China’s efforts to help afflicted nations are an attempt to mitigate the reputational damage from its early obfuscation of the outbreak, which led to the global pandemic. Businesses are also taking steps to limit their China exposure.
Record low oil prices could see Russia’s GDP fall by as much as 15 percent this year, resulting in more pressure to limit its military spending and interventions in places such as Ukraine and Syria.
Iran has been crippled by the virus. Infection has killed several of its senior leaders, and the collapse in oil prices has damaged its already shrinking economy, making this middling power even weaker.
Strong fundamentals undergird U.S. power: favorable geography; a technologically advanced society with a skilled, innovative workforce; and abundant natural resources. Post-COVID rebuilding will require focusing on these strengths to restart the economy.
The U.S. grew to become the global superpower by virtue of its productive economy; advanced technology, including nuclear weapons; and skillful diplomacy.
The pursuit of liberal hegemony—militarized democracy spreading fueled by threat exaggeration and hubris—has resulted in strategic failure, military overstretch, and a hollowing out of U.S. internal strength.
The coronavirus pandemic has exposed the extent to which U.S. power has been squandered. To recover its strength, U.S. should focus on the core elements of national power while avoiding excessive military projects and the overspending that entails.
The budgetary demands to recover from this pandemic will be enormous, but the fundamental sources of U.S. security are robust—and insensitive to mild deviations in military activities and spending.
Coronavirus is a terrible tragedy but nonetheless an opportunity to shed illusions and rebuild the real pillars of national strength for the long haul.
As long as U.S. focuses on its prosperity—rather than peripheral distractions—it will grow stronger at home and retain the ability to marshal the resources necessary for competition with any adversary.
This article has been republished with permission from Defense Priorities.
Benjamin H. Friedman is Policy Director at Defense Priorities and an adjunct lecturer at George Washington University’s Elliott School of International Affairs. Previously, he served as Research Fellow in Defense and Homeland Security Studies at the Cato Institute.
No Pope had ever kissed the feet of leaders, begging them to bring peace to their country. But in April 2019, Pope Francis surprised South Sudan and the entire world when he did just that to President Salva Kiir, Vice President Riek Machar, James Wani Igga, Taban Deng Gai, and Rebecca Nyandeng De Mabior; a gesture that clearly expressed his belief that the Pontiff of the Catholic Church must be a committed and unwavering peacemaker.
Pope Francis spoke about peace until his very last breath. In his brief message before the Urbi et Orbi blessing on April 20, Easter Sunday, he mentioned peace 10 times, remembering the Holy Land and the gift of all Christians celebrating Easter on the same day, in Lebanon, Syria, Yemen, Ukraine, the Southern Caucasus, the Balkans, Democratic Republic of the Congo, Sudan and South Sudan, the Sahel, the Horn of Africa and the Great Lakes region, and also Myanmar.
His memory of specific countries and regions was accompanied by his concern for freedom of religion, freedom of thought, freedom of expression, and respect for the views of others. He stressed that no peace is possible without true disarmament. The call was “to care for one another, to increase our mutual solidarity, and to work for the integral development of each human person.”
These were not only his last words. These were the words of an entire life and of an entire pontificate. Even the name chosen, “Francis,” was a sign of his commitment to peace and the poor. No Pope before him had used that name, the name of a poor friar from Assisi who, in 1219, was bold enough to counter the Crusaders and meet Sultan Malik al-Kamil in Damietta, Egypt.
Indeed, Pope Francis spoke about peace, invited peace, and worked for peace even and especially when few did so — much like his chosen namesake. He was the first Pope to visit the Arabian Peninsula and Iraq, the first to develop a personal friendship with the Grand Imam of Al-Azhar, Ahmed Al-Tayyeb, the same way he was friends with Rabbi Abraham Skorka in Argentina. He expressed the same personal touch through his frequent calls to the only Catholic church in the Gaza Strip.
Yet, his ministry was not only about personal relationships and feelings. It was made of bold steps for the world such as the “Document on Human Fraternity for World Peace and Living Together,” the first document to be signed by both a Catholic Pope and a Grand Imam of Al-Azhar. It was signed 800 years after St. Francis visited Sultan Malik al-Kamil and marked a dramatic turn in the relationship between Muslims and Christians.
It was also bold to declare, as he did in Nagasaki, Japan, that “the use of atomic energy for purposes of war is immoral, just as the possession of nuclear weapons is immoral.” The opposition of the Catholic Church and prior Pontiffs to nuclear weapons had been clear but Pope Francis’ statement went beyond; we must imagine a world without nuclear weapons, we must imagine a world in peace.
And he was equally bold when he denounced the arms trade, repeatedly condemning those who profit from war in his address to the United States Congress in September 2015, saying, “why are deadly weapons being sold to those who plan to inflict untold suffering on individuals and society? Sadly, the answer, as we all know, is simply for money; money that is drenched in blood, often innocent blood.”
For his boldness and love of peace, Pope Francis was openly criticized, even mocked. This was especially true when he tried to open a path to peace in Ukraine by sending Cardinal Matteo Zuppi to Kyiv, Moskow, Washington, and Beijing. In that context, peace was and has been a dirty word, but in his words and actions, Francis insisted that peace remain central, underlining the value of the human person, of peoples, over and against the destructive power of violence.
Similar resistance emerged against his stance in favor of the dejected, migrants, and prisoners. Pope Francis was caring. He was aware of the trials and tribulations of many, and, aware, he cared for them and invited others to do the same.
He made himself a pilgrim of peace, travelling the globe, witnessing to peace and spreading the invitation widely. He traveled to many countries where the Catholic population was a minority and was always welcomed with great warmth and appreciation. He made the world smaller, weaving it together in a time of further distances and higher walls.
He went from South Sudan, where he told the leaders, “future generations will either venerate your names or cancel their memory, based on what you now do,” and then to Iraq, where he met Grand Ayatollah Ali al-Sistani in Najaf saying, “peace does not demand winners or losers, but brothers and sisters who, despite misunderstandings and past wounds, choose the path of dialogue.”
Francis was undetered, and worked tirelessly and repeatedly. In May 2014, then-Israeli President Shimon Peres and Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas met with him in the Vatican and recently, after one year of Israeli offensive in Gaza, former Israeli Prime Minister Ehud Olmert and former Palestinian Minister for Foreign Affairs Nasser Al-Kidwa presented Pope Francis with their proposal to end the war devastating their nations. Throughout the conflict, Pope Francis, as in Ukraine, centered the lives of the suffering, choosing to call the only Catholic church in Gaza personally every day, demonstrating, in a most concrete way, his care and concern.
Many are mourning after his death. He was mourning with many while he was alive.
When he visited the Community of Sant’Egidio in Rome in 2014, he coined 3 Ps to capture its charisms — prayer, the poor, and peace. In this synthesis was both a description and invitation; an invitation to many to make these the pillars of their life.
Pope Francis made peace through prayer and care for the poor. He did so until the very end of his earthly journey and continues to invite all to do the same.
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Top image credit: U.S. President Donald Trump meets with China's President Xi Jinping at the start of their bilateral meeting at the G20 leaders summit in Osaka, Japan, June 29, 2019. REUTERS/Kevin Lamarque
The Wall Street Journal reported Wednesday that Trump is considering a significant reduction of the extraordinarily high tariffs on China that followed a dizzying tit-for-tat spiral between the two countries in early April.
China was the only country to immediately retaliate against Trump’s draconian “liberation day” tariffs, and Trump’s intolerance for that self-assertion led to 145% tariffs on the U.S. side and 125% tariffs on the Chinese side — tantamount to severing economic relations overnight between the world’s two most important economic powers.
Trump’s public softening is a hopeful sign because the tariff confrontation could all too easily tip over into an irreparable break between the United States and China, ultimately developing into large-scale violence. Yet significant obstacles stand in the way, and both sides have already taken damaging steps that undermine the possibility for de-escalation. Regardless of what happens with the tariff rate, if the Trump administration successfully pushes major third countries to exclude China from their economies, conflict is likely to spin out of control.
Commentators have been slow to focus on the danger of U.S.–China conflict. Many have grown complacent as the conflict became familiar and seemingly contained to small-scale antagonistic measures and empty diplomatic discussions. Trump’s conflicts with allies, his tariff campaign against the whole world, and his attacks on liberal institutions at home have drawn all the attention.
Yet we now stand in a moment of acute danger. Against a years-long background of growing economic, military, and philosophical tensions, the trade war threatens to unleash a series of escalatory dynamics across all realms in the U.S.–China relationship.
Already under the first Trump and Biden administrations, the gradual formation of adversarial geopolitical blocs was underway. Biden’s consolidation and systematization of Trump 1’s exclusionary policies toward China had convinced the Chinese leadership of immovable American hostility to China’s interests. Then, Trump stacked his administration with a fractious national security and international economic team whose only point of agreement was the need for confrontation with China.
Trump himself, however, offered hope of escaping a devastating international conflict. His enthusiasm for dealmaking, his admiration of Xi Jinping, and his hostility to the dogmas of American primacy that animated the Biden administration all created an opening to move the relationship off its trajectory toward permanent hostility. Beijing recognized the possibilities and from the moment of Trump’s election victory began informally floating ideas on what China could offer to Trump’s priorities, seeking a reliable connection in Trump’s notoriously fluid inner circle, and inquiring into how a negotiation process could be structured.
The biggest obstacle was not Trump’s team, which he has cowed into obedience, but his desire to cow China, too.
Rather than responding to Beijing’s outreach, Trump hit China with an initial 10%t tariff increase in early February, claiming it was punishment for China’s indirect involvement in the fentanyl trade. Media coverage focused on even larger punitive tariffs directed at Canada and México, but these were quickly withdrawn while those on China remained. Trump repeated the same routine in early March, again sparing Canada and México while raising tariffs on China another 10%.
China responded with considerable restraint to both rounds, still seeking to preserve space for negotiation. Already under Biden, China had begun cooperation on limiting fentanyl inputs, so Chinese leaders were skeptical that this was the real issue. With increasing urgency, Beijing sought to determine what Trump actually wanted. But no response was forthcoming.
Then came the “liberation day” tariffs, with a 34% increase applied to China, and Beijing fundamentally changed its approach. China’s leaders seem to have concluded that Trump simply wants to demonstrate his own power by debasing China, as he has done to countries ranging from Canada to Colombia to Ukraine. This is clear in China’s repeated condition for talks: they “must proceed in a manner of sovereign equality on a foundation of mutual respect.”
The Chinese Communist Party’s entire foreign policy legitimacy and ideology are built on the claim that it remade China so that it could finally stand up against the depredations of foreign powers. Chinese diplomats’ emphasis on respectful treatment, often expressed through a preoccupation with diplomatic protocol and a sharp antipathy toward U.S. attempts to discredit China, grows from this foundation.
Even as he mulls the possibility of reducing the crippling tariff rates he imposed, Trump continues to say that China will have to be the one to request it. “China wants to make a deal. They just don’t know how quite to go about it,” Trump said shortly after tossing away the chance for talks and breaking the economic relationship. “You know, it’s one of those things they don’t know quite — they’re proud people.”
Over the last two weeks, he and close advisers like Treasury Secretary Scott Bessent have repeatedly expressed such sentiments. In response, China has shown openness to talks but insists it will not negotiate at the point of a gun. China is also looking for a clear process in the talks and some sense of an agenda from the United States. Most recently, China’s Commerce Ministry suggested that Trump could resolve the impasse by removing all “unilateral tariff measures.”
As the two trade accusations in public, in the background both are moving in the most dangerous direction possible: to force the rest of the world to choose one or the other. In its talks with other countries that were targeted on “liberation day,” the Trump administration is demanding that they sever economic ties with China. China responded by arguing that other countries would be short-sighted to make deals with a bully and promising “equivalent countermeasures” against any country that sacrifices Chinese interests as the price for access to the United States.
We are now stuck in the absurd spectacle of the world’s two most powerful leaders acting like children who want to make up but who insist that the other take the first step. The longer this impasse lasts, the less likely we will avoid cascading escalation into conflict.
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Top photo credit: King Abdullah of Jordan in Amman. (Ahmad A Atwah/Shutterstock)
On Wednesday, the Jordanian government declared that it had banned the Muslim Brotherhood, an Islamist movement that has long been active in the kingdom.
The announcement followed arrests last week of 16 members of the group for allegedly plotting an attack inside Jordan. The interior minister stated that the group and all its affiliated activities were illegal.
It was not immediately clear what impact the ban would have on the Islamic Action Front, the political party affiliated with the Brotherhood, which won a plurality of votes in last fall’s parliamentary election. The party tried to distance itself from the Brotherhood during a press conference on Wednesday, saying it would continue to operate as an independent political party with no affiliation and “within the limits of the law.”
Following the Hamas attack on southern Israel on October 7, 2023, and Israel’s subsequent campaign to bomb and blockade Gaza, the Islamic Action Front became significantly more vocal in its longstanding criticism of Israel, as well as of the 1994 Jordanian-Israeli peace treaty. The party’s critique reflected widespread rage among Jordanians, approximately half of whom are originally from historic Palestine, provoked by Israel’s brutal military campaign in Gaza, which has killed more than 50,000 people, mostly women and children.
That anger has been expressed in frequent public demonstrations as well as a widespread boycott of American and European products, due to these countries’ support for Israel’s actions.
The IAF translated public dissatisfaction with the Jordanian government’s perceived complicity in Israel’s war into electoral success in last September’s parliamentary elections. In a statement to the Jordan News in response to the banning of the Brotherhood, Zaki Bani Irshaid, the former secretary general of the Islamic Action Front, criticized the government’s decision for stoking internal division at a time when Jordan faced an existential threat from Israel’s creeping annexation of the West Bank. If Israel tried to force the three million Palestinians who live in the West Bank across the border into Jordan, the continued rule of King Abdullah and the Hashemite monarchy would likely be seriously threatened.
Anger at the king’s perceived willingness to effectively acquiesce to Israel’s destruction of Gaza raises questions as to why he outlawed the Brotherhood now, which risks provoking greater unrest. The announcement was made while a Saudi delegation, including Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, was visiting Amman, prompting speculation that Abdullah may have wished to demonstrate his anti-Islamist bona fides.
The Saudi government has waged a years-long campaign against the Saudi Muslim Brotherhood as it attempts to transform its approach to Islam under the auspices of MbS’s Vision 2030. Jordan has long relied on Saudi Arabia, as well as the United States, for financial support. Last year, Riyadh completed a $250 million aid package for Jordan. With U.S. President Donald Trump having suspended the $1.45 billion the U.S. annually sends to Jordan, Abdullah is likely eager to secure other sources of funding.
Yet this is not the first time that Abdullah has targeted the group. In a 2013 interview, he described the Brotherhood as “run by wolves in sheep’s clothing.” In 2015, the government helped to orchestrate a split between the group’s so-called “hawks” and “doves,” allowing the latter to retain control of all of the Brotherhood’s assets. In 2016, the government closed the offices of the so-called “hawks,” after preventing them from holding elections for the group’s internal leadership. All of these reflect Abdullah’s general suspicion of the Brotherhood and its popularity.
Yet historically, the Jordanian branch of Brotherhood was known as the “loyal opposition.” In contrast to the repression suffered by the original Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt and some of its branches elsewhere around the region, the Jordanian monarchy has tolerated the group, which in turn avoided openly challenging the king’s rule. The group itself is as old as Jordan itself — both of them were established in 1946.
During the reign of King Hussein (1952-1999), the group was permitted to operate, including by running schools and charities and other social services. His son Abdullah took the throne not long before the 9/11 attacks transformed the U.S. approach to the Middle East. Abdullah was eager to partner with Washington, including by hosting CIA “black sites” for the detention, interrogation, and torture of suspected Al Qaeda militants and assisting in the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2003.
As counter-terrorism dominated the U.S. security agenda, Abdullah sought to portray himself as a “moderate Muslim partner” against violent extremism. Under the rubric of “moderate Islam” versus “extremist Islam,” Abdullah, like many regional leaders, falsely portrayed Islamist movements, despite their explicit rejection of violence, as supportive of terrorism, if not the actual perpetrators, and thus essentially equivalent. Under this framework, Abdullah could more easily depict the Brotherhood as suspect.
His latest move to repress the group likely reflects his concern that opposition to his ongoing partnership with Israel is growing. Across much of the Middle East, Arab publics continue to watch in horror as Israel violated its ceasefire with Hamas and then returned to pounding Gaza with renewed ferocity while simultaneously preventing all aid, food, or medicine from entering the territory since March 2. In the intervening 53 days, the risk of acute malnutrition has grown, with the UN World Food Program warning that hundreds of thousands of people are at risk.
Abdullah’s crackdown on the Muslim Brotherhood will likely do little to quell his population’s growing frustration as more children succumb to starvation in Gaza.
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