Concerned about America's reputation,
rising anti-Americanism and the growing
perception of the United States as a global
bully? Take heart. There will be no more
run-amok adventures in U.S. foreign policy.
The lessons of Iraq have been learned.
Or have they? Incredible as it may seem,
the Bush administration's instincts for the
unilateral, the preemptive and the confrontational
remain as strong as ever. In fact, to borrow the
old Al Jolson saying, it might just be that we
ain't seen nothing yet.
Exhibit A is Richard Cheney's latest out
burst, far from home in a place many Americans
would have trouble finding on a map.
"No legitimate interest is served when oil
and gas become tools of intimidation and
blackmail," the vice president trumpeted at
a recent conference in Vilnius, capital of the
tiny Baltic nation of Lithuania. He went on
to accuse Russian President Vladimir Putin
of undermining the "territorial integrity" of
its neighbors, subverting their elected gov
ernments and robbing its own citizens of
democratic rights. The Kremlin was gobs
macked. Such rhetoric would have been
harsh in the worst days of the Cold War, let
alone today. Where did it come from?
Kremlin spokesmen described Putin as of
ficially "puzzled."
Experts offered ready answers. Cheney's
attack was a defense of Europe and
Ukraine, clobbered in January when
Moscow hiked the price of natural gas sold
to its one-time satellite and, briefly, cut off
supplies flowing to Europe. Geostrategists
noted Washington's hopes for drawing
Ukraine into NATO, strongly opposed by
Russia, as well as its support for such belea
guered former republics as Georgia or
Azerbaijan. But almost no one picked up on
Cheney's real interest behind his feisty
words: Iran.
More and more, these days, U.S. foreign
policy comes down to that. Yes, Cheney
wants to extend NATO further to the east.
He worries about Europe's dependence on
Russian energy and dislikes the Kremlin's
backsliding on democracy-though he
echoed no such sentiments on his stop in
far more repressive Kazakhstan, an oil-rich
Central Asian ally. But make no mistake:
his chief concern is getting Moscow behind
the administration's drive to stop Tehran's
nuclear program. Most immediately, that
means backing U.S. calls for sanctions in
the UN Security Council, which the Krem
lin is loathe to do. Co-operate on Iran, Ch
eney signaled in Vilnius, or else. Forget a
fast-track to WTO membership. Expect
bad vibes at Putin's cherished chairman
ship of the G8, kicking off with a July sum
mit in St Petersburg. Prepare for a U.S. of
fensive on democracy and human rights in
Russia itself, a sphere where the U.S. ad
ministration has so far tread lightly.
All this strikes the Russians as extremely
bellicose, and they are not alone. Across
Europe, ministries are seeing shades of
Iraq. European newspapers have been full
of alarmed speculation that the United
States was preparing contingency plans for
a military strike on Iran. Just last week
Turkish sources reported that Ankara re
jected a U.S. request to use its airbases for
such an operation. The growing unease
burst open at a recent meeting of the Brus
sels Forum, a Davos-like gathering organ
ized by the German Marshall Fund. It was
to be a sort of feel-good love-fest celebrat
ing the transatlantic alliance's recovery
from the buffeting it experienced over the
Iraq war. Hard feelings? "So 2003," said a
senior State Department official responsi
ble for European affairs, according to one
of the attendees, Andrew Moravcsik, direc
tor of the European Union Program at
Princeton University.
But trouble set in as soon as Sen. John
McCain, a front-runner for the Republican
presidential nomination, brought up Iran.
After describing U.S.-European relations as
"never better," he plunged into a vitriolic
critique of Europe's diplomatic efforts to
halt Iran's nuclear program, likening them
to the wimpish debates over the shape of
the bargaining table at the Paris peace talks
with Vietnam in the '60s. "There is only
one thing worse than military action," he
declared, "and that is a nuclear-armed
Iran." Europeans were stunned, Moravcsik
writes in the latest Newsweek Internation
al. "Could it possibly be that the next Amer
ican president would be even more adven
turous in the Middle East than George W.
Bush?" To their further consternation, the
Democratic shadow Secretary of State,
Richard Holbrooke, seconded McCain's
sentiments and called Iran a "test case" for
future transatlantic dialogue.
Suddenly, the transatlantic divide is
back-and it could grow wider than ever
over Iran. With the United States pushing
for tough UN sanctions-or worse-Euro
peans are showing signs of balking. Ch
eney's saber-rattling deeply offended Rus
sia's newly petro-confident leaders, ana
lysts say, turning quasi-partners into
adversaries eager to hand Washington a de
feat, despite deep reservations of their own
over Iran's nuclear trajectory. European al
lies who supported America in the Gulf war
now worry where the administration's
tough talk on Iran might ultimately lead.
Germany's foreign minister has called for
direct talks with Tehran. British diplomats
say it is inconceivable that a badly weak
ened Tony Blair, bruised by recent local
election losses and suffering Bushian ap
proval ratings of 31 percent, would even
think of supporting an attack on Iran.
The letter to Bush from Iranian presi
dent Mahmoud Ahmadinejad exploded in
this context like a verbal hand grenade. It
arrived, not coincidentally, on Monday, the
very day that six Security Council minis
ters-the United States, France, Britain,
China, Russia and Germany-were sitting
down to dinner at the Waldorf Hotel in
New York to discuss their next diplomatic
moves. "It did not make for a happy meet
ing," says Cliff Kupchan, an authoritatively
plugged Iran expert at the Eurasia Group.
Interpreting the letter as a promising (even
historic) overture, according to Kupchan,
"Russia and China dug in their heels"
against even the mildest sanctions. No
tably, they were joined by Germany.
The consequences will become clearer
over the next weeks, but for now this much
is apparent: even more than in Iraq, the
Bush administration once again finds itself
isolated. And because diplomacy is unlikely
to yield the results it seeks-a total cessa
tion of Iran's nuclear enrichment pro
gram-it will ultimately be left to act on its
own. Given the rhetoric out of Washington
these days, not to mention Tehran, that's
not an encouraging prospect. "You've got
two sides who don't know how to blink go
ing at each other," says Kupchan, who rates
the chances of a diplomatic settlement at
20 percent-and more than 60 percent for a
military confrontation.
Lessons of Iraq? Like the man said, perhaps
we ain't seen nothing yet.
Michael Meyer is Europe and Middle East Editor
for Newsweek International. He is a member of Benador Associates.


