But the hush-hush briefing, so far from public scrutiny, seemed a bit strange. This, after all, was a policy that had been launched in a blaze of publicity on May 1, when Bush declared that “we need a new framework” for strategic thinking in a speech at the National War College. So why the secrecy now? The outcome of the tour may offer a clue: the briefers had almost nothing positive to report. The reception to Bush’s initiative from governments around the globe was one of deep skepticism, bordering in places on incredulity. Indeed, while the roadshow had a polite reception everywhere, some European diplomats privately were scathing about the American scheme–contrary to a drumbeat of U.S. press reports suggesting that U.S. allies were warming to NMD. Many denied not only that the NMD system would work but that there wasn’t even much of a threat from “rogue states”–like North Korea, Iraq or Iran–to justify it. “It’s a crock,” said one Western diplomat of the entire scheme.
And these were the countries–America’s NATO allies–that missile defense is intended to help protect. Elsewhere the reaction was calmly derisive. Igor Sergeyev, a security adviser to Russian President Vladimir Putin, said the U.S. arguments were “not coherent.” “I will be frank with you,” Russian Foreign Minister Igor Ivanov said Saturday after meeting with U.S. Secretary of State Colin Powell. “The offered reasoning fails to convince us and the majority of the world nations that potential threats require the dismantling of the entire body of agreements on disarmament.” In Beijing, Sha Zukang, the top Foreign Ministry expert on arms control, seemed relaxed as he described the outcome of the U.S. tour in Asia. “Not a single country–except possibly Australia–has expressed wholehearted support. The whole world is worried about the possible negative consequences.” (Actually, Australia conditioned its backing on U.S. ratification of the Comprehensive Test Ban Treaty, which Bush opposes.) It wasn’t just the Chinese in Asia; a recent survey of defense experts in East, South and Southeast Asia showed overwhelming opposition to the U.S. missile-defense program, with two thirds saying such schemes would destabilize Asia and start a new arms race.
The wave of global eye-rolling in reaction to NMD raised larger questions about the Bush plan–and the administration’s foreign-policy approach in general. Some were concerned that, whatever the technological merits of NMD, Bush was overselling it as a revolution in strategic thinking when it was, at best, marginally useful. In his eagerness to drop the 1972 antiballistic-missile treaty as a throwback to “a far different time in a far different world,” as Bush declared in his rollout speech, he might be throwing out the baby with the bath water, some officials suggested. In fact, traditional nuclear deterrence–the threat of massive retaliation from the United States–makes a lot of sense, some officials said. Take the Germans, for example. Their country would benefit from the “extended deterrence” an NMD umbrella purportedly would provide (by making America more likely to defend Germany if U.S. shores were protected); still, German officials questioned the American definition of the threat as well as the remedy. Americans were “fixated” on rogue states shooting missiles, while the Germans worried far more about terrorists, and the threat of biological and chemical weapons. And Germany, a nonnuclear power, felt the remedy was diplomacy, political pressure and arms control to prevent nuclear proliferation–not exotic technological and punitive responses that may not be ready for a decade or more, German officials say.
American officials were ready for the skepticism. They pointed out, not without reason, that other dramatic shifts in policy, like Ronald Reagan’s “zero option” missile-reduction plan in the early ’80s, also met initially with European derision. But a key problem this time, Western diplomats complained, was that there seemed to be so little to the U.S. plan. The officials who went on the 10-day world tour that ended last week–Paul Wolfowitz, the deputy secretary of Defense; Richard Armitage, the deputy secretary of State, and Stephen Hadley, the assistant national-security adviser–were unable to present an overall concept, a technology for the new system, a military doctrine on how to use it or a timetable for deployment. Once it became clear Bush had no specific plans beyond his determination to build some sort of missile-defense system–cost estimates vary from $60 billion to $500 billion–friendly governments reacted with a mixture of bemusement and relief.
In Britain, where America’s most stalwart ally might have been expected to back Bush 100 percent, “the whole meeting was relatively lighthearted,” said a member of the British team. But that was only because the British heard little they could sink their teeth into. Meeting in the historic Map Room over tea, the Americans spoke first for about 40 minutes, describing the new type of deterrent they see as necessary to counter the threat from rogue states. The British, smarting like most of the world at Bush’s sudden withdrawal from the Kyoto agreement on global warming, expressed delight at U.S. consultations. They and others also welcomed Bush’s announced intentions to reduce the American strategic and tactical nuclear forces. Everything else remained a big question mark. Would bases be required in Britain or elsewhere in Europe? The Americans did not really know. What kind of “burden sharing” was envisaged? The Americans couldn’t really say. Pass the biscuits, please. Prime Minister Tony Blair later told Parliament that Britain would not decide whether to support missile defense until there was a specific program on the table, a technology was chosen and it was clear that Russia could reconcile to Bush’s insistence on changing or scrapping the ABM treaty.
Even North Korean dictator Kim Jong Il, one of the “rogue threats” who inspired NMD, seemed to outmaneuver the Americans last week. Pyongyang announced it would maintain its suspension of missile tests for the next three years. “They have never tested the Taepo Dong II, which is the only thing capable of reaching the U.S. with a sizable warhead,” says Leon V. Sigal, a North Korea expert at the Council for Social Science Research in New York. “If there are no tests, then you can’t have a missile.” That deepened doubts about the policy in South Korea, which the United States now defends with 40,000 troops, especially since Bush has yet to engage in a diplomatic drive to solidify the North Korean promise. Armitage’s motorcade in Seoul was pelted with rotten eggs by protesters opposed to missile defense, and he spent only a few minutes discussing missile defense with President Kim Dae Jung, who is still embittered over the cool reception Bush gave him in Washington. “He expressed understanding of it,” Armitage said later.
There were strong technological doubts expressed as well. Sergeyev, Russia’s former Defense minister and the former commander of the Russian rocket force, disputed the U.S. assessment that North Korea or another “rogue” could develop ICBMs based on the technology of Russian Scud missiles, first manufactured in the early 1960s. “It is impossible to design an intercontinental missile capable of threatening U.S. territory with the technologies of Scud missiles. One cannot make a leap over two generations of missiles,” he told the Interfax news agency. U.S. officials in Washington, questioned about this, could not dispute Sergeyev’s point. “I hear what he says,” said a senior White House official. “We don’t accept his assessment, with all due respect.” He cited North Korea’s sole test of a three-stage rocket in 1999, built on the prototype of a Scud. But he added that this “was a serious question, and we will come back with an explanation.” Perhaps there need to be more consultations.
