In my earlier discussions, I’ve pointed out the dangers of ambiguity in foreign policy, drawing on the example of the Gulf War of 1991. This conflict was, in part, ignited by a U.S. official’s miscommunication to Saddam Hussein, suggesting that an invasion of Kuwait would go unchallenged. This misinterpretation led us into a costly military engagement. Moreover, the subsequent Iraq War in 2003 likely wouldn’t have happened without the precedent set by the Gulf War, as Saddam’s costly blunder stemmed from a lack of clear communication regarding U.S. intentions.
Recently, Jordan Schneider and Jonathon Sine interviewed Sergey Radchenko, who provided insights into the lead-up to the Korean War:
In North Korea, Kim Il-sung was eager to reunify the nation and repeatedly sought Stalin’s approval, asserting, “Comrade Stalin, once we cross the 38th parallel, a revolution will erupt in South Korea. It will be swift and successful.” Stalin, however, consistently denied him permission, fearing American intervention. In this instance, Stalin exhibited a caution that was rather atypical for him.
The pivotal question arises: what prompted Stalin to shift from fearing American intervention to believing it would not occur? Herein lies the complexity.
Consider Dean Acheson’s remarks during a press conference, where he bluntly stated, “America has a defensive perimeter, which does not include Korea.” This statement ranks among the most misguided utterances by an American foreign policymaker, proving to be a significant blunder in retrospect.
Interestingly, even Mao Zedong was left in the dark, as Stalin chose not to inform him of his decisions.
Furthermore, Anastas Mikoyan noted, “Our intelligence intercepted American communications indicating they would not intervene in the conflict.”
The entire interview is a treasure trove of insights worth exploring.
If this assertion holds true, then a war resulting in 3 million fatalities may have been precipitated by U.S. ambiguity regarding its commitment to defend South Korea. While it’s plausible that North Korea could have invaded South Korea independently of Stalin’s approval, a delay of several decades might have allowed the South to bolster its defenses, potentially with U.S. support.
Thus, we find ourselves contemplating two, if not three, wars that may have been influenced by ambiguous U.S. signals regarding our readiness to defend allies. What does this imply for the present?
Both the Biden and Trump administrations have made their stance clear: U.S. troops will not be deployed to defend Ukraine, reducing ambiguity on that front. However, elsewhere, uncertainty is on the rise. The Biden administration has been a staunch advocate for NATO, ensuring that member nations commit to mutual defense. In contrast, Trump has sent mixed signals regarding NATO, creating uncertainty about U.S. commitment to the alliance, which could heighten the risk of miscalculations in regions like the Baltics.
When it comes to Taiwan, the Biden administration has also exhibited inconsistent messaging. President Biden often hinted at a commitment to defend Taiwan, only for other officials to backtrack, reinforcing “strategic ambiguity.” Trump, for his part, has not made a firm commitment to Taiwan’s defense.
This post doesn’t aim to champion a specific Taiwan policy—I’m not particularly fond of either Biden’s or Trump’s approach. Instead, I’m highlighting how previous instances of policy ambiguity have led to costly foreign policy blunders, while also noting a troubling increase in uncertainty in recent years.
So, how can we enhance clarity in U.S. foreign policy? One potential solution is to revert to the Constitution’s original intent, empowering Congress to make war decisions. Given that the Senate comprises 100 members, predicting its response to foreign aggression may be more straightforward than anticipating the actions of a single individual, namely the President. The “wisdom of crowds” suggests that decisions made by larger groups tend to be more prudent than those made unilaterally. This principle was also applied to tariffs, which the founders believed should be under Congressional authority.
PS: Generally, it’s wise to pursue a foreign policy that mitigates the “tail risk” of severe negative outcomes. A conflict between Mainland China and Taiwan would be dire, but a war involving both Mainland China and the U.S. could have catastrophic implications.
PPS: Following the writing of this post, I stumbled upon reports that high-ranking administration officials were engaged in discussions about military strategies on an unsecured Signal chat, which included a reporter from The Atlantic. They subsequently denied the authenticity of the discussions, even after the administration confirmed the story. In a whirlwind of scandals, this revelation risks being overshadowed in mere hours. The leaked chat messages underscored what I’ve been discussing:
For a continent already anxious that Trump might disregard any NATO Article 5 request or leverage alliances by withholding essential military components, the content of this inadvertently leaked conversation seemed to confirm those fears.
Allies in the Asia Pacific and the Middle East are likely drawing similar conclusions, fearing they could be next if Trump and his team decide that they aren’t contributing enough to their own defense or making adequate trade concessions.
Additionally, Russia and China are likely to interpret this as an exploitable opportunity. Meanwhile, America’s allies and adversaries alike are witnessing the repercussions of entrusting the world’s most powerful military to a cadre of inadequately qualified ideologues, which can lead to either recklessness or, at best, a steep learning curve.
The chat discussion also illuminated that when weighing the pros and cons of military action, the potential benefit to Europe was considered a negative. I’m not joking. As I’ve often remarked, the U.S. seems to be pivoting its alliances away from the West and toward Putin’s Russia. Here’s a Bloomberg article that encapsulates this idea:
“Finlandization” refers to weaker nations surrendering sovereignty to appease stronger aggressors, such as Russia and, increasingly, the U.S.
In the past, I was labeled an anti-American extremist for asserting that the U.S. government could be seen as a “bully.” Now, that perspective has gained mainstream traction.
