America First? Or America Alone?

Sometimes history returns wearing a different name.

A politician coins a phrase. A movement adopts a slogan. Millions of people rally around it. Commentators argue about it. Supporters embrace it. Opponents denounce it.

History smiles.

Because it has seen this before.

The political phrase du jour “America First.” Has returned once again

Donald Trump rode back into the White House on a wave of sentiment that America had gotten distracted by its obligations overseas, sometimes suckered by its allies and often forced to carry burdens that should have been shared by others. Millions of Americans agreed. They looked at inflation, housing costs, stagnant wages, deteriorating infrastructure, and endless foreign crises and asked a simple question:

Who is looking out for us?

That is not an unreasonable question.

It is also not a new one.

America First has been a recurring theme in American politics since the phrase was coined by Charles A. Lindbergh in his misbegotten isolationist crusade of the 1930s. But the sentiment traces back to the 1790s. Every generation eventually becomes frustrated with foreign commitments. Every generation wonders whether America is paying too much, sacrificing too much, and receiving too little in return.

The names change.

The circumstances change.

The argument remains remarkably familiar.

What makes this moment interesting is not that the question is being asked again.

It is that history has already supplied several answers.

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The Seduction of Retreat

One of the most dangerous assumptions in politics is that the nostrums offered in moments of exhaustion are embraced as expressions of wisdom.

After World War I, Americans were exhausted.

More than 116,000 American servicemen had died in Europe. The war that was supposed to make the world safe for democracy seemed solved very little. The peace settlement at Versailles looked increasingly flawed. Many Americans concluded they had been drawn into a European conflict that had cost them dearly and benefited them little.

The public mood shifted dramatically.

In 1920, Warren G. Harding campaigned on a promise of a “return to normalcy.”

Not greatness.

Not leadership.

Not responsibility.

Normalcy.

Americans wanted to return to a simpler time when oceans insulated them from the troubles of the world.

History would take a different course.

During the decade that followed, the international order weakened. The German economy collapsed. Political extremism gained traction. Dictators rose to power in Europe and Asia. Then came the Great Depression, which demonstrated that economic shocks abroad could devastate American families at home.

The oceans had not changed.

The world had.

Americans discovered that ignoring the world did not make the world disappear.

History is cruel and unforgiving to nations that mistake retreat for strategy.

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Charles Lindbergh and the Geography Illusion

No figure better illustrates that temptation than Charles Lindbergh.

Lindbergh was a remarkable aviator.

He was not a remarkable statesman.

Flying across the Atlantic made him famous. It did not make him an expert in geopolitics.

As Europe drifted toward catastrophe in the 1930s, Lindbergh became the most prominent spokesman for the America First movement. He argued that the United States should avoid becoming involved in Europe’s conflicts. The Atlantic Ocean, he believed, provided sufficient protection.

His argument resonated with millions of Americans.

Why should American boys die in another European war?

Why should American taxpayers bear the burden of defending other nations?

Why should the United States become entangled in conflicts that appeared distant and unrelated to everyday life?

Those were fair questions.

The problem was that Lindbergh misunderstood the age in which he lived.

In September of 1940, German aircraft began the Blitz against London. Over the next eight months, tens of thousands of civilians would be killed as Nazi bombers attacked British cities. Even then, many Americans still believed the conflict could be contained overseas.

Fifteen months later came Pearl Harbor.

The oceans were still there.

They simply weren’t enough. The Imperial Japanese Navy proved Lindbergh a fool.

The lesson was not merely military. It was historical. Events occurring thousands of miles away had reshaped American history without asking America’s permission.

Hitler was not merely Germany’s problem.

Imperial Japan was not merely Asia’s problem.

Eventually, both became America’s problem.

The bill came due whether Americans wanted it or not.

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The Postwar Lesson

The World War II generation reached a different conclusion.

They understood that isolation was no longer a viable strategy for a nation as powerful and interconnected as the United States.

So, America helped build a new international order.

The United Nations.

The Marshall Plan.

NATO.

A network of alliances and partnerships designed to prevent future catastrophes.

The objective was not charity.

The objective was stability.

American leaders concluded that preventing wars was cheaper than fighting them. Containing threats was cheaper than defeating them. Building alliances was cheaper than standing alone.

This was not idealism.

It was self-interest.

One fact is worth noting. Since NATO’s creation in 1949, no member nation has gone to war with another member nation. Prior to World War II, Europe experienced major conflicts with alarming regularity. The postwar alliance system was imperfect, expensive, and often frustrating.

NATO’s first Secretary General, Lord Ismay, famously said that the objective of the alliance was to “Keep the Russians out, the Americans in, and the Germans down.”

It worked for more than 40 years until the Soviet Union collapsed

That reality deserves consideration before we casually dismiss the institutions that helped produce it.

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The Bush Model

Perhaps no modern president better represented that approach than George H. W. Bush.

When Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait in 1990, Bush could have acted unilaterally.

Instead, he spent months building a coalition.

He worked with NATO allies.

He consulted Arab governments.

He secured support through the United Nations.

Ultimately, more than thirty nations participated in Operation Desert Storm.

America led.

America did not act alone.

That distinction matters.

The coalition was not assembled because Bush lacked confidence in American military power. It was assembled because legitimacy matters. Shared burdens matter. International support matters.

The lesson was straightforward.

Leadership and isolation are not the same thing.

Neither are leadership and unilateralism.

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The Trump Question

Donald Trump is asking a legitimate question.

Why should America continue paying so much of the bill?

Why should wealthy allies rely so heavily on American taxpayers for their security?

Why should the United States carry burdens that others seem reluctant to share?

These are not irrational concerns.

Many of America’s allies have spent decades underinvesting in their own defense because they assumed America would always fill the gap.

Trump did not invent that reality.

He simply pointed out an inconvenient truth.

And many Americans concurred.

There is understandable frustration in the belief that America has become the world’s emergency response service while neglecting problems closer to home.

No serious observer should dismiss that concern.

But identifying a problem and prescribing a solution are not the same thing.

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Leadership or Retreat?

The challenge facing America is not whether alliances cost money.

Of course they do.

The challenge is determining what happens if they disappear.

NATO costs money.

Aircraft carriers cost money.

Military bases cost money.

Intelligence partnerships cost money.

Everything worth maintaining costs money.

The question is what replacing those things would cost.

History suggests there are only three ways to deal with threats.

You can confront them alone.

You can confront them with allies.

Or you can wait until they threaten your very existence.

The third option has a terrible historical record.

Small threats ignored tend to become larger threats.

Regional crises ignored tend to become international crises.

Power vacuums tend not to remain vacant for long.

History does not tolerate empty space.

Someone always moves in.

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The World We Actually Live In

The world stopped asking America’s permission before becoming interconnected.

A conflict in the Middle East affects gasoline prices in Florida.

A disruption in the Strait of Hormuz, through which roughly one-fifth of the world’s oil supply passes, impacts energy markets around the globe within hours.

A crisis involving Taiwan can affect manufacturing in the American Midwest.

A cyberattack launched on one continent can cripple businesses on another.

Whether we approve of globalization or not is irrelevant.

The reality exists.

The global village is not a theory.

It is the operating system.

That does not mean America should surrender its interests.

Far from it.

But it does mean America cannot pretend the rest of the world is somebody else’s problem.

The world stopped working that way a long time ago.

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The Empire That Doesn’t Like the Word

Americans are uncomfortable with the word empire.

Romans understood they had one.

Britons understood they had one.

Americans prefer gentler language.

We talk about leadership.

Partnership.

Responsibility.

Shared values.

Yet American forces operate around the globe. American naval power protects international shipping lanes. American financial institutions influence markets worldwide. American diplomacy shapes decisions on nearly every continent.

Whatever vocabulary we choose, the reality remains.

The United States occupies a unique position in the international system.

The question is not whether America leads.

The question is what happens when America decides it no longer wishes to.

Historians often note that as Britain retreated from its role as the dominant global power at the end of the Second World War, the US stepped into the breach to thwart the Soviet Union’s global ambitions, especially in Europe and the Middle East. The result was not tranquility. The result was a prolonged struggle among competing powers, a Cold War that required American resolve and resources.

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America First? Or America Alone?

Dr. Gary Kellner often jokes, “If I had a crystal ball, I wouldn’t use it.”

The challenge of alliances is that allies do not always define success in the same way. What appears to one nation as a reasonable settlement may appear to another as a craven compromise. That tension is as old as alliances themselves.

Fair enough.

None of us knows exactly what comes next.

But history leaves clues.

Donald Trump is almost certainly right that America has carried burdens that others should share. Many of our allies have benefited from American protection while investing too little in their own defense.

But history offers remarkably little evidence that retreat by great powers produces peace.

More often, conflict returns in a more dangerous form.

The choice facing America may not be America First or globalism.

It may be leadership or retreat.

America’s future undoubtably lies neither in America First nor America Alone.

It lies in cultivating alliances, strengthening friendships, demanding greater responsibility from our partners, and never losing sight of American interests.

Leadership is expensive.

But retreat can be even more expensive.

History has tested both propositions before.

And history, unlike politics, has no reason to lie.

Reflections

1. Is the greatest threat to a nation the enemies it can see, or the dangers it chooses to ignore?
2. How can America demand more from its allies without weakening the alliances that helped secure decades of stability?
3. If the United States steps back from its role in the world, who is most likely to step forward—and would Americans be comfortable with the result?

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