the Federal Republic part of a larger community. These policies are interdependent; to pursue one without the other is to defeat both. It is to the construction of this larger community that we must now turn.

## CHAPTER EIGHT

### What Kind of Atlantic Partnership?

Two solutions are usually offered for enhancing Allied cohesion: (1) an improvement in the process of consultation and (2) the development of a united Europe with federal, supranational institutions as the precondition for an Atlantic partnership.

## THE PROBLEM OF CONSULTATION

The inherently difficult problem of coalition diplomacy is magnified under present conditions by three factors:

1. The firm commitment of the United States and the U.S.S.R. to the existing balance of power provides their allies with increasing scope for purely national actions.

2. The internal workings of modern government are so complex that they create a variety of obstacles to meaningful consultation. Nations sometimes find it so difficult to achieve a domestic consensus that they are reluctant to jeopardize it afterward in international forums. The American tendency to confine consultation to an elaboration of its own blueprints often reflects a desire to avoid complicating still further our own increasingly complex decision-making process.

3. As governments have found in their own domestic experience, access to the same technical data does not guarantee unanimity. In an alliance of states very unequal in size and strength, differences are almost certain to arise. And they are likely to be intensified because the histories of the states vary widely and because of a technology of unprecedented destructiveness and novelty.

The American historical experience causes our policymakers to be reluctant to admit that the process of consultation may have objective limits. United States society, with its

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large area of consensus, encourages the belief that all problems are soluble through goodwill and a willingness to compromise. A rationalistic streak produces a conviction that there are single, universally valid answers to most problems and that agreement is sure to emerge if the interested parties gather around a table. This creates a temptation to conduct Alliance diplomacy as if it were analogous to the domestic policy of stable societies.

However, the most difficult issues of coalition diplomacy are more complicated. Differences in history, geography and domestic structure become relevant. The analogy to domestic policy breaks down.

In stable societies, domestic decisions tend to be accepted because there is a consensus on legitimacy. Those who are overruled generally consider maintenance of domestic order more important than any particular grievance; if they do not, domestic policy acquires some of the characteristics and sanctions of foreign policy and, in extreme cases, leads to civil war. In stable societies those who are overruled retain the hope of winning another round later or of influencing the implementation of the decision. In democracies, there exists the possibility of changing the government with the next election.

In a coalition of sovereign states, these safety valves are not available. Legitimacy resides in the individual governments. Decisions require their consent—this is the essence of sovereignty. Even when they agree to be bound by majority vote—a rare occurrence in coalitions and not the case with NATO—their sovereignty implies the right to renounce the treaty. In short, those who dissent and are prepared to insist on their sovereignty cannot be bound indefinitely.

If fundamental differences among sovereign allies persist, the partners are torn between the desire to maintain the appearance of unity and the attempt to vindicate their views. The need to present a facade of harmony has at least three consequences: (1) It puts a limit on the sanctions that can be applied to a recalcitrant ally. (2) One of the few pressures available is to mobilize domestic pressures against an obstructive partner, thus multiplying resentments. (3) Because misgivings are sometimes subordinated to an appearance of amity, the real views of the governments cannot always be deduced from their formal statements. Simultaneously—and somewhat contradictorily—a premium is placed on intransigence. Ruthless allies can use their partners' desire for harmony to impose a desired course. But if this happens too frequently, there is a dangerous build-up of frustration that cannot be smothered indefinitely by declarations of friendship. This has been happening in the Atlantic Alliance.

Consultation, therefore, is far from a panacea. It is least effective when it is most needed: when there exist basic differences of assessment or of interest. It works best in implementing a consensus rather than in creating it. Nevertheless, an improvement in the consultative process should be one of the primary objectives of the Alliance.

Many American schemes for strengthening NATO have taken the form of making our predominant position psychologically more acceptable. We try to create a structure which

Many American schemes for strengthening NATO have taken the form of making our predominant position psychologically more acceptable; we try to create a structure which physically prevents any Ally (except the United States) from acting autonomously. This tends to turn our Allies into advisors in an American decision-making process. It then becomes relevant to inquire whether such a system serves the long-term political vitality of the Alliance.

The effectiveness of any process of consultation is tested by the answers to the following questions: Who has a right to be consulted? Whose voice carries weight? Who has technical competence? These three questions do not necessarily have identical answers. Many agencies in our own government have a right to be heard, but not all have the same influence. When some Europeans ask for a greater voice in our decisions in return for giving up some of their military autonomy, the issue they raise is: compared to whose voice *within* the United States government? That of the Arms Control and Disarmament Agency? Or the Joint Chiefs of Staff? Or the State Department? Or the Commerce Department? In our interdepartmental disputes, the outcome is clearly affected by the constituency that the agency or department represents. The weight given to advice is related to the competence that it reflects and this in turn depends on how seriously a given department takes its role.

These considerations apply even more strongly in an alliance of sovereign states. The challenge is not only to provide a forum for the expression of a point of view—important as this is—but also to bring about a framework which encourages the emergence of responsible attitudes. Setting up lines of communication without paying corresponding attention to what flows through them is to evade the key problem. If the United States insists on retaining a dominant position and complete freedom of action—if integration becomes in practice an exegesis of American schemes—we will probably find that the political will of Europe will eventually be broken. Before a government makes a major effort to acquire the competence necessary for developing a serious point of view, it must be convinced that its views matter not only by the grace of a senior ally but also because of structural necessities.

American policy has not always been sensitive to the psychological prerequisites for effective consultation. It generally holds that influence in the Alliance is apportioned as in a stock company: the partner with the largest number of shares in a common enterprise is supposed to have the greatest influence.

Influence is, of course, an intangible quality. However, to measure it entirely in terms of contribution to a common effort is much too mechanical. President de Gaulle, with his disconcerting habit of cutting through slogans to the underlying reality, has put his finger on the fact that as long as NATO is an alliance of sovereign states, a too literal conception of "integration" can easily lead to an evasion of responsi-

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bility. Difficult decisions can be avoided, and failure can be blamed on other allies. Even a major effort may not result in a corresponding increase in influence. In an alliance of sovereign states, a country's influence requires that its effort be considered essential and that its partners do not take it for granted. In determining an ally's real—as opposed to his formal—role, one can do worse than inquire what its choices are in case of disagreement. To combine technical integration with insistence on sovereignty can in time erode the moral basis of joint action.

Heretofore, American policy has assumed that the chief obstacle to close United States-European cooperation on a global scale is that the resources of the European nation-state are inadequate for the requirements of the modern age. According to this school of thought, the political integration of Europe will solve the problem of Allied consultation. A united Europe will be prepared to share world-wide burdens which a Europe of national states is reluctant to assume. Under Secretary of State Ball has expressed the American view as follows:

> The problem will never be fully solved until Europe gets on further with the achievement of its own unity—until it organizes itself on a scale commensurate with the requirements of the age.

> There are quite obvious reasons for this. The undertaking of world responsibility requires a world view. The discharge of such responsibility under post-colonial conditions must be based on the command of vast resources for defense and foreign aid—and on the will to use them. Western Europe collectively has more than enough resources, but a fragmented Europe cannot efficiently mobilize them in support of a common effort and a common view.

—George W. Ball, "NATO and World Responsibility." *The Atlantic Community Quarterly*, Vol. 2, No. 2 (Summer 1964), p. 216.

The nature of world responsibility is rarely defined; it is assumed to be self-evident. Thus, United States Ambassador to Germany, George McGhee, spoke as follows:

> This [Atlantic partnership] entails increasing contributions in formerly remote areas like Vietnam and Central Africa from countries which, like Germany, have only recently acquired the ability to contribute?

—George C. McGhee, "Some American Thoughts on Current Issues," speech on July 16, 1964, *DOSB*, Vol. LI, No. 1310 (August 3, 1964), p. 198.

American policy seems to consider that its goals in these areas are in the common interest and, therefore, beyond challenge; what it desires is a sharing of the cost.

> But is it really true that willingness to assume global responsibilities is related to availability of resources? The American national experience would seem to contradict this assumption. Through the greatest part of its history, the United States possessed the resources but not the inclination to play a global role. Conversely many European states maintained overseas commitments when their resources were much smaller than they are today.

For many European countries, the combination of de-colonization and two World Wars has been traumatic. Having been forced to relinquish their overseas possessions, they no longer consider that their security is directly affected by what happens in, for example, Southeast Asia. Rather than run the risk of nuclear destruction on behalf of a distant area from which they have been recently ejected, they prefer to shift the risks and the burdens to us. They are reasonably sure that long before upheavals in other continents threaten the safety of Europe, the United States will have entered the

from which they have been recently ejected, they prefer to
shift the risks and the burdens to us. They are reasonably
sure that long before upheavals in other continents threaten
the safety of Europe, the United States will have entered the
fray. In other words, they treat America's extra-European
concerns in much the same way that the United States looked
at Europe's quarrels until 1941.

This problem is not eliminated by drawing distinctions—
often moralistic in tone—between “responsibility” and “in-
terest.” Under Secretary Ball, echoing similar statements by
Secretary Rusk, has argued that:

We Americans have few national interests—in the narrow sense
—outside our own territory but we have assumed vast world re-
sponsibility. . . . The willingness to accept world responsibility—
as distinct from the preservation of national interests—is, in our
observation and experience, not universal among the NATO mem-
bership.³

³Ball, "NATO and World Responsibility," op. cit., p. 215.

Aside from the fact that our European Allies are likely to
consider a "disinterested" foreign policy as both mercurial
and unsteady, the distinction misses the central point. The
chief reason for the reluctance of most of our Allies to assume
world responsibility is precisely that in the past decade they
have been obliged to give up their global interests. Sharing
our burdens would give impetus to Atlantic cooperation only
if our Allies have the same view as we of what is at stake
outside of Europe and if they believe that the United States
would curtail its commitments but for their assistance.
Neither condition is met today. The very commitment of the
United States to a global role—our often-invoked sense of
world responsibility—reduces the incentive of our Allies to
share in it, much as the commitment of Britain and France to
the European balance of power permitted the United States
to evade the problems of security in the period before 1941.

Thus, European unity is not a major cure-all for Atlantic
disagreements. In many respects it may magnify rather than
reduce differences. As Europe gains structure, it will be in a
better position to assert divergent perspectives whose ulti-
mate cause is structural rather than personal. Phrases like
"indivisible interest" are correct when applied to the defense
of Europe or East-West relations; they come close to being
platitudes in other parts of the world. A wise Alliance policy
will not gear everything to the expectation that common
positions can be developed on a global basis; it will also take
account of the fact that the interests of Europe and America
are not identical everywhere.

This fact is relevant to any assessment of the degree of
centralization of Atlantic policy which it is in our interest to
promote. Over the next decades the United States is likely to
find itself increasingly engaged in the Far East, in Southeast
Asia and in Latin America. Our European Allies will almost

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certainly consider that their vital interests are not at stake in
these areas. If Atlantic policy is completely centralized, it
may grow stagnant. The Alliance will be able to agree only
on doing nothing. Or else, it will engage in a series of pre-
tenses. The behavior of our Allies toward American requests
for assistance in Vietnam is a good example. The Soviets may
use our involvements in other continents as a pretext to
blackmail Europe. This, combined with the lack of interest
among Europeans in the issues involved, may strain the Alli-
ance beyond the breaking point.

Looking beyond the immediate future, it is not difficult
to visualize an increasingly powerful China fomenting the
already strong tendencies toward turmoil in other parts of
the world. If we insist on remaining the sole trustee of global
policy, the strain on our resources and ingenuity may well be
too great. The day will come when we will consider a meas-
ure of autonomy in Europe a blessing rather than an irritant.
In this century no one could have foreseen at the beginning
of any decade what the world would look like at its end.
Things have not grown less complicated or more predictable.
Those centers of initiative which still exist should not be
discouraged. It is not always the least-responsible allies that
wish to reserve some measure of control over their destiny.

If we face the fact that the interests of Europe and the
United States are not identical everywhere, it may be possi-
ble to agree on a permissible range of divergence. Each part-
ner will regain a measure of flexibility. The temptation for
Soviet adventures might be reduced. Europe could assume
greater responsibility for its defense and its future. Put posi-
tively, the Atlantic Alliance will have to decide whether to
emphasize immediate convenience or long-term political
vitality. At any given point of time, centralization of deci-
sions guarantees the greatest degree of coordination. Critics
of such schemes can always be put on the defensive by being
accused of fomenting distrust. In the long term, however,
excessive concentration of decision-making in the hands of
the senior partner may deprive out Allies of the incentive to
be responsible and it may create profound fissures when a
conflict of interest becomes apparent.

This suggests that the vitality of the Alliance would be
served by an Allied structure which makes possible a variety
of coordinated approaches on some issues. For responsible
attitudes to emerge, participants in a consultative process
must do more than simply advise. Influencing another coun-
try's actions—however benevolent that dominant partner may
be—will be demoralizing in the long run. If coalition diplo-
macy becomes largely an exercise in affecting essentially
American decisions, most of our Allies will lose the incentive
to make responsible judgments. The type of leader comforta-
ble with such a relationship may be only too ready to shift
the burden of difficult choices to our shoulders; this very
quality may make him unreliable when he is most needed in
times of crisis. For decisions to be meaningful, our Allies
must consider them their own, not ours.

Paradoxically, some autonomy in political decision for
Europe is psychologically important for the cohesion of the
Alliance. Though this proposition will be granted by most
American policymakers in the abstract, they tend to resist

Paradoxically, some autonomy in political decision for Europe is psychologically important for the cohesion of the Alliance. Though this proposition will be granted by most American policymakers in the abstract, they tend to resist independence when it takes the form of challenging our judgments. A decade and a half of hegemony have accustomed us to believing that our views represent the general interest. The difficulty with which decisions are reached in our government produces temptations to turn Allied consultation into an attempt to implement essentially American conceptions.

Nevertheless, the future well-being of the Alliance depends on our willingness to adjust the pattern of relationships which grew up after the war. Though historically we are the children of Europe, with respect to the postwar evolution, we are somewhat in the position of a father toward a grown-up son. He can always take the attitude that, since their interests are identical, he will continue to control all the resources. He can challenge the son to name circumstances in which their interests might differ. He can tell him that no legitimate request will ever go unheeded. Such an attitude will either drive the son to open rebellion or, if accepted, will break his spirit.

Since the war Europe has been first nurtured and then protected by us. Now we require wisdom and delicacy in handling the transition from tutelage to equality. Grandiose schemes of great technical complexity may magnify inward insecurities. What is needed is a recognition that it is in the long-term interest of the United States to share responsibilities even more than burdens. This will involve a painful loss of some of our former pre-eminence—a process to which no nation has ever adjusted easily. The assertions of European self-will which we find so irritating today can be the growing pains of a new and healthier relationship which ultimately is important for us as well.

In too much of the current dialogue we offer our good intentions as a guarantee of the validity of our actions. But the nature of our intentions is not at issue. It is important for us to realize that our style and our commitment which have been responsible for so many constructive measures can also dissolve the identity of others. Our optimism makes us press for final answers to any problem. These often take the form of abstract models in which other nations are considered interchangeable entities. Our pragmatism produces a willingness to try everything once and a restless quest for ever "new" remedies. Thus, sudden changes in our policy are not uncommon—witness the checkered career of the MLF. Decisions within our government are influenced by a combination of bureaucratic pressures in which the immediate often predominates over the long-term.

All of this can make our impact undermine the sense of responsibility of even close allies. Most societies lack the cohesiveness for the restless quest for novelty which seems natural to us. The constant adjustment of policies to differ-

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ing pressures can be demoralizing for countries whose margin
for maneuver is more limited. What appears as open-
mindedness to us may be seen as unsteadiness by others. The
fluctuations in our German policy from impatient aloofness
in 1961 to ardent wooing in 1963 to a more distant policy in
1965; the changes in the MLF from indifference to passionate
advocacy to aloof goodwill in the space of three years; the
frequent alterations of our strategic doctrine; the tendency of
our bureaucracy to conduct their internal battles by lining
up support in foreign capitals—all suggest that it is necessary
even for the stability of our own policy to have self-confident
partners with a strongly developed sense of identity. Reluc-
tant as we may be to admit it, we could benefit from a
counterweight to discipline our occasional impetuosity and
to supply historical perspective to our penchant for abstract
and “final” solutions. The real case for European autonomy
is not burden-sharing but the establishing of a psychological
balance between us and Europe.

For centuries one of the most difficult problems of West-
ern political thought has been how to reconcile unity with
respect for diversity. Overemphasis on either unity or di-
versity destroys the delicate balance of creativity. Excessive
stress on unity leads to a deadening conformism; exalting
diversity as an end produces a relativism hostile to great con-
ceptions and, on the political level, an overconcern with na-
tional peculiarities. To strike this balance is the big unsolved
problem before the Western Alliance.

THE GRAND DESIGN AND EUROPEAN
INTEGRATION

Since the war and with increasing emphasis since 1961,
the United States has argued that the most effective structure
for Atlantic cooperation is a partnership between the United
States and a united, supranational Europe. "When one part-
ner possesses over 50 per cent of the resources of an enterprise
and the balance is distributed among sixteen or seventeen
others, the relationship is unlikely to work very well."¹⁴ Real

George W. Ball, "Toward an Atlantic Partnership," speech to the World Affairs Council of Philadelphia, February 6, 1962, DOSB, Vol. XLVI, No. 1184 (March 5, 1962), p. 366.

partnership, according to American spokesmen, is possible
only among equals.

As a result, American pronouncements have often as-
sumed that before Europe could be an effective partner of
the United States it would have to unify. This concept of
Atlantic partnership, strongly urged also by such wise Euro-
peans as Jean Monnet, has been described by the image of
"twin pillars" or "dumbbell." Former Secretary of State
Herter has written:

I believe the present Administration [the Kennedy Administra-
tion]... holds the... view, which has come to be termed the
"dumbbell" concept—meaning that an economic and political
alliance is stronger if it has been agreed to by partners of equal
weight on both sides.⁵

⁵ Christian Herter, "Atlantica," *Foreign Affairs*, Vol. 41, No. 2 (January 1963), p. 301.

The European side of this partnership is to be a United
States of Europe organized on federal lines with suprana-

9 Christian Herter, "Atlantica," *Foreign Affairs*, Vol. 41, No. 2 (January 1968), p. 301.

The European side of this partnership is to be a United States of Europe organized on federal lines with supranational institutions.

There is no doubt that the dumbbell concept represents one form of Atlantic partnership. But an excessive, almost doctrinaire commitment to it runs the risk of treating a symbol as the only possible reality. This may cause us to beg the key questions by the very terms in which we state them.

The single-mindedness with which the dumbbell concept has been pursued obscures three questions: Is it true that partnership is possible only among equals? What has been the real progress toward European political integration? To what extent is it in the American interest to promote one form of European unity to the exclusion of other possible plans?

Given the nature of America's relations with the rest of the world, it seems strange that partnership should be said to be possible only among equals. The assertion that we can deal effectively only with countries of equal strength is not conducive to inspiring confidence among the great majority of the nations of the world which are weak. Moreover, the proposition is open to doubt. History would seem to indicate that the most difficult and rigid partnerships are those among equals—witness, for example, the alliance between Germany and the Austro-Hungarian Empire prior to World War I. In Atlantic relationships we should recognize that an improvement in Europe's bargaining position toward us is inseparable from an increase in European strength and cohesion; we should be prepared to pay this price for European unity, but we must realize that there is a price to be paid.

Granting that a strong and united Europe is on balance in our best interest, we must nevertheless inquire whether it is wise—either from the point of view of Europe or of the United States—to insist that there is only one reliable method of bringing about that unity: that of federal, supranational institutions. In the aftermath of De Gaulle's abrupt rejection of Britain's membership in the Common Market, it has become almost a commonplace that the willful act of a single individual interrupted what would otherwise have been a smooth advance toward political integration. According to this view, once Britain would have entered the Common Market, an "outward-looking" Europe would have emerged. Progress toward supranational political institutions would have been continuous. In the opinion of the "integrationists" in Europe and in the State Department, European unity would have been promoted by a "community spirit," which in turn was to be fostered by supranational commissions. Expert judgment unaffected by considerations of national interest was to move European political integration forward, step-by-step, toward a final culmination in which the supranational authorities would be dominant. All this is said to have been destroyed by De Gaulle's abrupt exclusion of Britain from the Common Market.

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However, no man could have single-handedly brought about the consequences ascribed to De Gaulle. Significant underlying factors must have been operating to obstruct the idealized progression envisaged by the European integrationists on both sides of the Atlantic. It was always somewhat unrealistic to imagine that the methods by which economic integration had been achieved could be applied automatically to the political arena. The "community" approach—which equates method and purpose—works best when the objective is clear. It answers the question of how a common objective can be realized. It is much less useful in *defining* this objective.

In the aftermath of World War II, this was obscured because Europe had been so shattered by the war that immediate needs were overwhelming. Leaders did not think that their problem was to choose among different objectives; on the contrary, the task of meeting minimum necessities absorbed all their energies. Most countries on the Continent had governments so weak or were so eager to overcome a past—or both—that an abdication of some of their sovereignty seemed a respite from overwhelming uncertainties. For many in Europe, economic activity became a means to avoid facing nearly insoluble moral or political issues. And the economic imperatives were so urgent that the governments were only too glad to turn them over to supranational experts.

⁶ For a splendid discussion of the problem of Europe's identity see Stanley Hoffmann, "Europe's Identity Crisis: Between the Past and America," *Daedalus*, Vol. 93, No. 4 (Fall 1964).

As Europe recovered economically, political confidence returned as well. Inevitably this strengthened the national state, the traditional repository of European loyalties. This process took place with varying intensity in each country. Germany and Italy, partly to escape their past, were more ready to submerge themselves in a federal Europe than Britain and France. Smaller countries accustomed to the protection of some major power had less difficulty with the supranational concept that those that had been major powers themselves. France and Great Britain—with the longest history as national states—have consistently aimed for a confederal, rather than a federal, solution; that is, a structure that preserves the identity of the states and in which decisions will be made, at least initially, on the basis of agreement among governments. Four years before De Gaulle came to power, the abortive European Defense Community demonstrated the obstacles faced by a supranational approach to political integration.

But if De Gaulle cannot fairly be charged with being the sole obstacle to European integration on the federal model, he is responsible for confusing the debate about the future of Europe in at least two ways: (1) The controversy between the federalists and the confederalists has become a test of attitudes toward De Gaulle. The line-up is not a reliable guide to the real views of the participants because many who strongly oppose De Gaulle's style and domestic policy are in agreement with him about the organization of Europe. (2) Some of the most ardent advocates of Britain's entry into the Common Market are also dedicated proponents of a federal Europe, which is as unacceptable in London as in Paris. Thus opponents of European integration have often