Storm over the Alliance
COVER STORIES
Crises in Iran, Afghanistan drive wedge between America and its friends
The dispute had become one of the most serious crises in the history of the relations between the U.S. and its allies. Tensions on both sides, which have been mounting for months, last week broke into the open, to the great dismay of allied capitals and the obvious delight of Moscow. If not brought rapidly under control, the growing storms could weaken the very ties that have enabled the leading nations of the free world to act in concert on security issues since the end of World War II. A major Soviet goal in the past three decades has been to drive a wedge between the U.S. and its allies with the hope of crippling the American military presence in Europe and U.S. security influence in Japan. Ultimately at stake, therefore, could be a shift in the global power balance. Just how the crisis is managed will challenge all the leadership skills not only of Jimmy Carter but of the heads of government of America's main allies as well.
What touched off the immediate uproar was the Carter Administration's open dismay over what it regards as the lack of backing by the allies for Washington's responses to the twin crises of the American hostages in Iran and the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. In the long run, the Afghan crisis is almost certain to be the more difficult for the allies to confront with a common policy. While the U.S. will continue pushing for relatively tough countermoves, its partners will hesitate, feeling that the issue is peripheral to their own security. What is more, the allies doubt that the U.S. has the power to take effective action in that part of the world.
Most of Washington's attention, however, was focused last week on the unrelieved plight of the 50 American hostages in the U.S. embassy in Iran. And it was on this matter that sparks were flying with the allies. Since the start of the month, the White House stand on Iran had become increasingly tough. In a televised press conference late last week, Carter tightened the economic and political sanctions against Iran that he had announced on April 7 and declared that "we're beyond the time for gestures; we want our people to be set free." In a clear warning that military action against Iran was a real possibility, Carter said that the "availability of peaceful measures, like the patience of the American people, is running out."
Carter's tone at the press conference was generally conciliatory toward the allies. Though he admitted that he has "sometimes been disappointed at the rapidity of action and the substance of the action" that they have taken, he concluded that by and large "they have performed adequately." But the word "adequately" implied all that really needed to be said about the Administration's view of how the allies had behaved.
Carter's campaign to prod the allies into action began with another television appearance, this one extraordinary by any measure. Acting more like an embattled President going over the heads of a balky Congress to the people of America than a statesman dealing with sovereign allies, Carter personally took the U.S. case directly to the West European public. Interviewed by correspondents from British, French, Italian and West German television networks, he talked bluntly about what he expected from the allies. To a potential audience of scores of millions, he stressed that the U.S. needs "the full and aggressive support of our allies" in order to show the Iranians "that we all do stand together in this condemnation of terrorism."
Carter said he had sent a message to the leaders of Europe setting what he called "a specific date" by which the U.S. "would expect this common effort to be successful." It turned out later that he was really talking about mid-May. Carter also implied that the U.S. would resort to military action if need be.
The alliance that now confronts the challenges of Iran and Afghanistan is one of the most remarkable in history. Created more than three decades ago, it has survived longer than just about any other grouping of sovereign states. The U.S. is its center, with Europe and Japan on the wings, a balancing act that would ordinarily defy all laws of international gravity. It is much more than a polygamous military marriage of convenience in the face of a common foe, and more than an economic bonding. The alliance is based on a common commitment to democracy and, in the case of all but Japan, on a shared cultural heritage.
As independent states, the NATO members of the alliance understandably have differed with each other on occasions.* But the current problems are more serious and fundamental than those of previous years. To a great degree they reflect significant economic and military changes not only in the world as a whole but also in the relationships between the allies. Says U.S. Ambassador to Japan Mike Mansfield, the former Democratic chief of the Senate: "We can no longer expect responses like we used to get automatically from our allies."
Ironically, when the hostage crisis first erupted in early November, the allies did much of what Washington asked them to do. They joined in condemnations of the militants, acted as secret mediators with Tehran and voted in the U.N. Security Council for sanctions against Iran. Everyone was also in step when Washington decided to soften its policy toward Iran in the hopes of bolstering relatively moderate Iranian leaders like President Abolhassan Banisadr.
Sharp U.S. dismay with the allies began to mount when Washington reluctantly concluded that tough measures were becoming necessary because the Iranian moderates either would not or could not secure the release of the American hostages. Typical of the disheartening news from Iran was the report the White House received last week that the Ayatullah Ruhollah Khomeini was not planning to release the hostages until, after the U.S. elections in November. In a note at the end of March, Carter requested the allies to make public statements and use their diplomats in Tehran to pressure the Iranians. Says a White House aide: "We asked for prompt, complementary action but not necessarily simultaneous action."
The feeble response the Administration received in part prompted last week's diplomatic offensive, highlighted by the Carter European TV interview. Carter also telephoned allied leaders, speaking several times to some, such as West German Chancellor Helmut Schmidt. Notes were exchanged and allied ambassadors trooped back and forth from meetings at foreign ministries. Administration officials, meanwhile, were making little effort to disguise their pique with the allies. Snapped a White House aide: "We wound up just as mad at the allies as at Iran." Complained a senior European expert at the State Department: "The allies have been slow, aggravating beyond belief and sometimes plain infuriating." And a White House staffer noted that "I don't think that we'll let the Europeans forget this."
As the week went on, the White House tried to persuade its allies that it made more sense to support the comparatively mild measure of leveling sanctions against Iran than it did to risk having the U.S. take military action that could disrupt the flow of oil to Europe and Japan. Says one Administration official: "It is not a very subtle point. They understand that the more pressure we can put on now, the less we'll have to squeeze later. And they know that we don't have much left to squeeze with."
Finally the message got through. Declared British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher: "The United States is entitled to look to Europe for support in her great moment of need." Japan's Prime Minister, Masayoshi Ohira similarly pledged support of the U.S., saying it comes before oil imports from Iran. And West Germany's Schmidt even seemed offended that Americans would feel that they had been "left in the lurch by us." He declared: "We know that the fundamental security of the Federal Republic is with the U.S., even when one has doubts about some of the measures demanded from us." In a phone call to Carter, the Chancellor praised the President's TV performance and expressed a general willingness to back him. He asked, however, that Carter be patient with the consultative process required within the European Community.
Exactly what the Europeans are prepared to do--or not do--will become clear at this week's Luxembourg meeting of European Community foreign ministers (which will be attended by Japanese Foreign Minister Saburo Okita) or at next week's European Community summit. The organization's experts have prepared memos outlining the economic and legal aspects of a potential boycott of Iran. One Community study argues that an economic boycott, in concert with the U.S. and Japan, could impose much more damage on Iran than that country could inflict in retaliation by cutting off oil shipments. Reason: in the wake of the Iranian crisis, the allies have gradually been reducing their purchases of oil from Tehran, but Iranian industry still needs West European goods to keep going. E.C. members now get only 3% of their oil from Iran, and Japan 10%.
E.C. endorsement of a boycott or other economic sanctions will require a unanimous agreement, a fact of Community life that in the past has stymied bold initiatives. As before, the French seem to be the main obstacle. While the European allies would all greatly prefer to act under the Community's umbrella, some appear to be edging toward taking tough measures unilaterally to back the U.S. Bonn and the powerful West German business community now favor economic moves against Iran that they once opposed. Said Otto Wolff von Amerongen, president of the West German Chambers of Industry and Commerce: "The time has now come to support the Americans. Sanctions are in order."
Schmidt's Cabinet meeting this week is expected to approve measures that would, among other things, freeze $6 billion of Iranian funds deposited in West German banks, cut off all shipments of technology and spare parts to Iranian industry and further pare the already skeletal West German diplomatic mission in Tehran. Remarked a senior chancellery official in Bonn: "This should go a long way toward backing the U.S. even if our other West European allies do not necessarily follow." Britain is ready to join the West Germans in imposing trading sanctions and further reducing its embassy staff.
Though allied leaders were falling into line, they were doing so primarily to demonstrate backing for the U.S., not because they were convinced of the wisdom of Carter's policy. The nine members of the European Community and Japan recalled temporarily their ambassadors from Tehran, though this was far from completely breaking relations as Washington had done. A senior foreign ministry official in Bonn argued that Western diplomats in Tehran would help the U.S. work to free the hostages. He also warned that the Soviets would take advantage of the power vacuum: "We should not make room for them."
The French insist that it is also essential for Western officials to remain in Tehran to support Iranian moderates like Banisadr. The Italians feel that their diplomats in Iran are particularly useful because they supposedly have clout with Iranian radicals. Italy's President Alessandro Pertini supported persecuted Iranian students during the Shah's reign.
As the week went on, Moscow wasted little time exploiting the growing tensions in the alliance. The Kremlin warned West Europeans not to bow to U.S. pressure in such matters as modernizing NATO's tactical nuclear arsenal and boycotting this summer's Moscow Olympic Games. In Paris, Soviet Ambassador Stepan Chervonenko stated that unless the allies resist, they would be turned into "an instrument for America's global policy" and would allow the U.S. to "attain strategic objectives on the backs of others." When Bonn indicated that it would probably follow the U.S. lead and boycott the Olympics, the Soviet Ambassador to West Germany warned that such a decision would have "political consequences in the relations between the Federal Republic and the Soviet Union." Japan also announced its support of the boycott last week, which has been backed as well by Britain. With much of Western Europe staying away from the Moscow Games, it is almost certain that the French will also join the boycott.
To both France and West Germany, the Soviets offered a carrot along with the stick. Chervonenko warmly characterized Franco-Soviet relations as a "preferential friendship," while Soviet Communist Party Chief Leonid Brezhnev last week invited Helmut Schmidt to go to Moscow early this summer for a long delayed summit meeting. The invitation surprised Schmidt, who promptly phoned Carter, French President Valery Giscard d'Estaing and other Western leaders to discuss Bonn's response to an overture clearly intended by the Soviets to split the allies. In view of the already existing tensions in the alliance, a chancellery aide in Bonn emphasized that Schmidt "is not going to rush into anything. We know full well what is at stake, and the last thing we want is to complicate matters for the alliance."
Washington's difficulties in obtaining the full support of Western Europe and Japan reflect how drastically the relationship between the dominant ally and its partners has changed. Peter Jay, former British Ambassador to the U.S., quips that in the good old days "the roles were well defined. The U.S. decided, and the other allies complained." The fact that the process is now much more complicated is due in great part to the phenomenal successes of America's post-World War II policy of reconstructing both Western Europe and Japan. Says Harald Malmgren, former U.S. assistant special representative for trade negotiations: "We intended to build independent, strong allies. We're now in a position of parents who have realized that our children have grown up."
They indeed have grown up, and in some ways--also like children--have grown away. The economic change is particularly dramatic. The 1950s and most of the 1960s were a kind of golden age in the alliance, when business goals and interests were shared to an extraordinary extent. But today, in the words of Francis Wilcox, director of the Atlantic Council of the U.S., "the other allies have different energy needs from ours and even different dependencies."
A startling set of statistics documents the change. In 1958, the nine states that today make up the E.C. imported $3.5 billion worth of farm and manufactured products from the U.S., but only $342 million in goods from the Middle East, including oil. By 1978 (the most recent period for which complete figures are available) the E.C.'s purchases from the U.S. had jumped a respectable tenfold, to $35 billion. But purchases from the Middle East had soared to $42 billion, a sum spent in large part for crude oil and natural gas. In only two decades, the Middle East had become substantially more important than the U.S. as a Western European trading partner. Even more important, Middle East oil has become absolutely essential to America's allies. Small wonder that Europe and Japan are hesitant about taking any action against Iran that might incur the wrath of other oil producing states.
Trade also influences allied attitudes toward the Soviet Union. Bonn is Moscow's top trading partner in the West; their combined trading volume last year totaled $7.6 billion, compared with $765 million in 1970. Paris wants to increase trade with Moscow, which last year totaled $3.7 billion. As a whole, the E.C. sold $12 billion in goods to the Soviets last year, almost four times the $3.4 billion (mostly grain) sold by the U.S. Understandably, Western Europeans strongly emphasize trade factors when advocating a more restrained policy toward the U.S.S.R. Understandably the U.S. is not very receptive to such arguments.
The unstable U.S. dollar has also contributed to the changed economic relationships within the alliance. Since its link to gold was severed in 1971, the dollar has fluctuated substantially--at times almost wildly--in international trading and has lost value against every Western European currency. Much of the respect that the dollar commanded for the quarter-century after World War II is gone, even though it still makes up some 80% of the world's monetary reserves.
Tensions are also heightened by the different views that Washington and a Bonn or Paris bring to world problems. The U.S. is a global superpower--one of two--with worldwide interests; its allies are regional powers with commensurately limited interests. Says Christoph Bertram, director of London's International Institute for Strategic Studies: "The attitude toward an international problem on the part of a medium and small power is to seek to live with it. The attitude of a superpower is to seek to change it."
Washington logically perceives the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan as being part of a global challenge. For the allies, Afghanistan is a distant land where events should not be the cause of a new cold war between East and West. Thus the allies view the tough U.S. response to the Soviet invasion as an overreaction that has unnecessarily provoked Moscow. From their regional perspective, the European allies fear nothing so much as they do an angry U.S.S.R. and a deterioration of U.S.Soviet relations. Warns Schmidt: "You don't want to scare the Russian bear. It could feel cornered and lash out."
So far, Western Europe has hesitated to retaliate against the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan by imposing truly painful measures on Moscow, like the embargo of high technology exports. Some see this reluctance to offend the Soviets as the start of Finlandization, a term derived from the fact that Finland is so thoroughly intimidated by the neighboring Soviets that it dares take no action that might offend them. In the opinion of Raymond Aron, a leading French political analyst, the process has already begun in Europe. Says Aron: "Finlandization starts in the mind. If a nation acts powerless and terrified, that's called Finlandization."
Probably no factor has more impeded America's ability to lead the alliance in the current crises than the disdain that allied leaders have for Jimmy Carter. He is generally regarded as being inept and naive, and as a politician who has demonstrated his inability to set a foreign policy course, stick by it and execute it. "Zigzag" and "flipflop" have become part of the scornful lexicon of European diplomats. Among the examples most often cited: Carter's push to have the neutron warhead deployed in Western Europe, winning the support of a reluctant Helmut Schmidt, only to postpone the project indefinitely; pressuring West Germany to reflate its economy and then dropping the notion; shocking Tokyo by announcing that U.S. forces were to be withdrawn from South Korea, only to backtrack later on.
Carter's handling of the hostage matter is the latest case in point for the Europeans. In their eyes, he first was tough, then soft, then tough again. While the White House can argue persuasively that these changes made sense because of the evolving situation, the switches dismayed the allies. Had they quickly followed Carter's initial tough policy, notes the ambassador of a European country, the allies would have been caught by the change: "We would have been out on a limb and you would have sawed it off. That's why we're a little wary of being told now that we have to be tough."
The allies have been especially alarmed by Carter's unsteady management of U.S.-Soviet relations. While the President has consistently advocated human rights and sought nuclear arms curbs, his manner of pursuing his policies has vacillated. Carter's SALT proposals of March 1977 shocked the Soviets because, without warning, they called for sharp cuts in the superpowers' nuclear arsenals. When Moscow balked, Carter quickly dropped the initiative. The allies found Carter's stands on the Soviets' so-called combat brigade in Cuba particularly confounding: first the presence of the unit on the island was "not acceptable," then it was tacitly accepted. At times, the allies contend, it has been totally unclear who really has been in charge of formulating the Administration's approach to the Soviets: the generally cautious Secretary of State Cyrus Vance or the more hawkish National Security Adviser Zbigniew Brzezinski. This has prompted the West Germans to label the U.S. policy as one characterized by Wirrwarr or confusion. Concludes a top-ranking chancellery official in Bonn: "Carter's motives have been beyond question, as has been his integrity. It's been his lack of aptitude that has undermined his reliability."
To other Europeans, Carter's erratic moves smack of domestic American politics. The French specifically feel that it is more than coincidental that Carter decided to get tough with Iran and the allies on the eve of this week's Pennsylvania presidential primary. Their own domestic politics, however, also play a role in shaping the allies' response to Washington; Chancellor Schmidt must stand for election next fall, and he is being criticized by Franz Josef Strauss, his rival, for being too soft on the Soviets.
For key allies, special factors color their perception of foreign affairs. Though shared traditions, language and the bonds of two world wars draw the British especially close to the U.S., Washington recognizes that London will not freeze Iranian assets because that could undermine world confidence in Britain's profitable international banking business.
The Japanese not only are more dependent on foreign energy supplies than any other of the major allies, they are also isolated from their partners by geography, time zones and even language. The Japanese claim that they are by nature reluctant to speak out boldly on issues. Says Jun Tsunoda, director of Tokyo's Center for Strategic Studies: "We are brought up in a tradition of civility. We don't like to say blunt things."
The French treasure the legacy of Charles de Gaulle that mandates they pursue an independent foreign policy. Independence usually has been defined as opposing the U.S., and all French politicians, even one as powerful as Giscard, must be careful not to appear to tag along after Washington.
Additionally, Paris insists that it has a unique relationship with Moscow that enables the French to mediate between the West and the Soviets.
Keeping some distance from the Americans is also the policy of the left-wing socialists who constitute an influential minority within Schmidt's Social Democratic Party. Says one of its most prominent members, former Chancellor Willy Brandt: "We must not be more American than the Americans." As half of a divided nation, West Germany is reluctant to pursue policies that could impair the ability of its citizens to visit their relatives in East Germany or that could once again raise tensions around Berlin. In the aftermath of Bonn's condemnation of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, for example, Moscow forced cancellation of a meeting that Schmidt was going to have with East German Communist Party Boss Erich Honecker to discuss expanded trade and access by West Germans to East Germany. Another benefit of detente that Bonn does not want to lose is the arrangement that during the past decade has permitted some 250,000 ethnic Germans, mainly in the U.S.S.R. and Poland, to be repatriated to West Germany.
But though the allies have reasons for being reluctant followers, the U.S. has good cause to call for their support. Many Americans expect it simply because of what the U.S. has done for its allies in the past. Says a U.S. ambassador with wide experience in Europe: "We've given our allies a lot and we really haven't asked for anything in return. Our allies have got completely unused to the idea that an alliance should be a two-way street."
The French dismiss such references to prior American help as irrelevant in today's world but the West Germans do recognize that gratitude ought to be a factor. Says Helmut Kohl, chairman of West Germany's Christian Democratic Union: "We have relied on the U.S. for our protection, including Berlin's. It is only right that we now stand with the U.S., for the entire West's sake."
The main argument that the U.S. should be supported by its allies is based not on sentiment, however, but on a fact as hard as steel: the U.S. still protects the free world. For this reason, the U.S. believes that any European hope of achieving a separate, regional detente with the Soviets is impossible. The allies can pursue their individual regional concerns solely because they are guarded by the massive nuclear deterrent posed by the American missile, submarine and bomber forces.
The U.S. military shield is not only nuclear. Some 39,000 troops are based in South Korea and an additional 44,000 in Japan. Their fundamental purpose: to maintain the military balance in East Asia that is a precondition for continued Japanese political stability and economic growth. On the European continent the U.S. deploys more than 200,000 troops. By comparison, Britain has 55,000 troops stationed outside of its territory, Belgium 25,000, The Netherlands 8,620 and France 34,000. Though West Germany has 495,000 men and women in uniform, none serve outside the Federal Republic.
The cost of the vast U.S. arsenal imposes a greater burden on Americans than on citizens of any other allied country. Last year U.S. defense spending amounted to $510 for each American, compared with $396 for West Germans, $349 for Frenchmen, $314 for Britons and $124 for Italians.
Three years ago, in response to the alarming buildup of Soviet conventional and nuclear arms in the past decade, NATO members pledged to increase their own military outlays annually "in the region of 3%," adjusted for inflation. Their record has been good. France, Britain and the U.S., among others, reached the goal last year, and are expected to do so this year. West Germany fell short in 1979 but will probably hit 3% in 1980. The Japanese have been increasing their military spending by about 8% annually for most of the past decade. They started, however, from a very low base and will put only .9% of their gross national product into arms this year, compared with the 3.4% spent by West Germany and the 5.2% paid out by the U.S. (The Soviet figure is estimated to be between 11% and 13%.)
There were indications at a high-level NATO meeting last week that the tempo of the pact's modernization program might quicken the spending increase. France and Britain are updating their own small nuclear forces. Europe has also strengthened the alliance by defying Soviet protests and allowing the U.S. to deploy medium-range nuclear missiles in some countries. To bolster NATO even more, the U.S. is asking its friends to assume further responsibility for their own defense, thereby freeing American forces for duty in the Persian Gulf and elsewhere.
One allied argument for not supporting the U.S. was that the events in Iran and Afghanistan were outside of their purview--that they were not covered by the terms either of the NATO alliance or the American defense treaty with Japan. Technically, this is true, but events far distant from Europe or East Asia may still profoundly affect the security of those regions. Referring to the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, Carter last week said that unless the allies "stand united [and] take firm action to show the Soviets that they will suffer because of it, that might lead to increasing encroachment by the Soviet Union against other countries."
What it comes down to, says Jean-Franc,ois Revel, director of L 'Express, the French weekly newsmagazine, is that "the allies cannot at the same time be in the Atlantic Alliance and act as if they are not in the alliance. Membership in an alliance implies responsibilities."
America's allies are apparently beginning to accept this fact, which is why they are expected to take stronger action backing U.S. policies on the hostages and Afghanistan than they had planned at first. Some of Schmidt's aides admit that the original Western European assessment playing down the significance of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan was wrong; the more alarmist American view, they now agree, was closer to reality.
This hardly means that unanimity is about to link the allies forevermore--or for a week. As Secretary of Defense Harold Brown told TIME: "To us, allied behavior sometimes is going to be annoying, as our behavior is sometimes annoying. Allies will sometimes complain that we are not leading, and sometimes complain that we are twisting their arms. There is no action that we can take that will ever allow us to be totally free of both complaints. That's just how it is."
But the U.S. and its allies could take some steps to try to prevent a recurrence of the tensions that caused the current crisis. For the alliance to emerge stronger, it will have to take into account the changing global situation and the new power relationships among the allies. Says former Japanese Foreign Minister Kiichi Miyazawa: "The U.S. must recognize the plurality of interests of her allies and accept the consequences." Delaware's Senator Joseph R. Biden suggests the U.S. should be prepared to share its oil supplies with allies whose flow is curtailed because they backed American policy in the Middle East. Says Biden: "If we call the tune, then we've got to be willing to pay the piper." The clock cannot be turned back to a time when America led and the others marched obediently to the American drum, nor can the U.S. rely on sheer power to drag the allies along. Says British Foreign Affairs Expert Bertram: "Friends are there for bad times, and these are bad times. But if we decide not to go to the Olympics, if we decide to break off diplomatic relations with Iran, if we decide to impose economic sanctions for the sole reason of appeasing the Americans rather than deterring the Soviets, then something is wrong with the alliance."
The easiest change for the U.S. to make will be to consult more frequently with its allies before leaping into action. Far more difficult will be the challenge of creating a consistent foreign policy that the allies can trust and use as a lodestone to plot their own courses.
For their part, the allies must try to broaden their limiting regional perspective and recognize that their first line of defense may no longer be in their backyard. They would be protecting themselves by joining the U.S. to stop Soviet threats to Southwest Asia and other strategically important regions. The European Community should streamline its cumbersome system of consulting so that it can more quickly respond to U.S. initiatives and to international challenges. Together the U.S. and its partners should do some contingency planning for Third World crises. Says Bertram: "If the crisis had been over Berlin and not Afghanistan, the alliance would have immediately known what to do."
The dispute between the allies that erupted publicly last week left officials in every allied capital worried about the future of the alliance. Mirrored in the series of events were the weaknesses--as well as some of the strengths--of the ties binding the free world's major powers. Says Helmut Sonnenfeldt, a former aide of Henry Kissinger and now a scholar at Washington's Brookings Institution: "The alliance is going through a period of adjustment out of which new practices and perceptions will grow. There is a potential for new strength but the danger of discord and weakness is greater."
Last week, with protests and promises still ringing across the oceans, Brzezinski summed up the problems facing the alliance. The U.S. certainly must continue to pursue its leadership role, he said, which inevitably "creates frictions, and we acknowledge it. But without such a role for the U.S., there will be no action. Therefore, we are prepared to accept friction as a necessary preliminary to a collective response that needs to be made. At the same time, we must be careful not to force our allies into positions where their vital interests are jeopardized. This dilemma, the recognition of diversity and the need for common action, will be with us for years to come." qed
*NATO's members: Belgium, Canada, Denmark. France, Greece, Iceland, Italy, Luxembourg, The Netherlands, Norway, Portugal, Turkey, United Kingdom, U.S., West Germany.
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