
he imperial ambitions of the Bush Administration,
post-9/11, are founded on quicksand and are eventually sure to
founder, but for fundamental reasons not currently under discussion.
Bush's open-ended claims for US power--including the unilateral
right to invade and occupy "failed states" to execute "regime
change"--offend international law and are prerogatives associated
only with empire. But Bush's greater vulnerability is about money.
You can't sustain an empire from a debtor's weakening
position--sooner or later the creditors pull the plug. That
humiliating lesson was learned by Great Britain early in the last
century, and the United States faces a similar reckoning ahead.
The US financial position is rapidly deteriorating, due mainly to
America's persistent and growing trade deficit. US ambitions to run
the world, in other words, are heavily mortgaged. Like any debtor
who borrows more year after year with no plausible way to reverse
the trend, a nation sinking deeper into debt enters into an adverse
power relationship with its creditors--greater and greater
dependency.
These creditors are both private investors and governments from
Europe and Asia; now none of them have any incentive to disrupt
their lopsided relationship with the superpowerful leader of the
world. After all, it works for them: Their exports have unfettered
access to the largest consumer market in the world, producing trade
surpluses and gaining greater market share. Their capital,
meanwhile, reaps good returns on the loans and investments in the
American economy. But history suggests that with sufficient
provocation, the creditor nations will eventually assert their
leverage over the United States, however reluctantly. That critical
juncture is likely to arrive either because the American debt burden
has become so great that additional lending would be too risky or
because the creditor nations want to jerk Washington's chain,
perhaps to head off reckless new adventures. Either way, it will be
a humbling moment for American triumphalism.
No one can know exactly what circumstances will prompt our old
friends to give a sharp elbow to Washington and Wall Street--that
is, refuse to lend more or threaten to withdraw capital--but US
finance is currently getting a small taste of what it would feel
like. Saudi Arabia (not the government but its wealthy private
investors) has pulled as much as $200 billion out of US financial
markets in recent months, perhaps to diversify holdings but clearly
provoked by the Bush hawks, who are demonizing the Saudis as the
"kernel of evil" behind Islamist terrorism. An investment consultant
in Riyadh told the Financial Times, "People no longer have
any confidence in the US economy or in United States foreign
policy." Extracting $200 billion from US stocks and bonds may have
contributed to the weakening value of the dollar, but by itself it
is not a major blow. If Asian money or Europe's were to undertake a
similar exit, the financial quake would send damaging tremors
through virtually every dimension of US economic life. If severe and
sustained, it could shut down economic growth and lead to a lower
standard of living.
The threatening implications are seldom discussed with any
clarity or candor, but the numbers are not secret. The US economy's
net foreign indebtedness--the accumulation of two decades of running
larger and larger trade deficits--will reach nearly 25 percent of US
GDP this year, or roughly $2.5 trillion. Fifteen years ago, it was
zero. Before America's net balance of foreign assets turned
negative, in 1988, the United States was a creditor nation itself,
investing and lending vast capital to others, always more than it
borrowed. Now the trend line looks most alarming. If the deficits
persist around the current level of $400 billion a year or grow
larger, the total US indebtedness should reach $3.5 trillion in
three years or so. Within a decade, it would total 50 percent of
GDP. Instead of facing this darkening prospect, Bush and team
regularly dismiss the worldviews of these creditor nations and
lecture them condescendingly on our superior qualities. Any
profligate debtor who insults his banker is unwise, to put it
mildly.
The specter of America's deepening weakness seems
counter-intuitive to what people see and experience in a time of
apparent continuing prosperity--and contradicts everything they are
told by authoritative voices. But the quicksand is real. We are
already in up to our knees.