The coming crisis of American power that is sure to follow the November election will be unique in U.S. history. Competing with China, Russia and whatever other major rivals may emerge will be less about aircraft carriers, fighter jets, nuclear submarines and stealth bombers than ever before, and more about helping other governments meet the vital needs of their citizens. Although the United States suddenly has much less of a hard power edge than it once did, due to China’s rapid and ambitious modernization of its military, and particularly its navy, Americans should treat skeptically the calls that are bound to begin multiplying soon to match Beijing ship for ship. It should focus instead on soft power and public goods.
That’s because the United States has also seen a sharp recent erosion of another important traditional competitive advantage: its advocacy of values that many consider universal, like human rights, democratic governance and the impartial rule of law. The country has not only abandoned its active advocacy of such things during the presidency of Donald Trump, it has ceased providing much of an example through its own politics.
A return to this past source of strength will certainly not come automatically, but a Joe Biden win in November would at least open the possibility of regaining some of this lost ground. It is a safe bet that this would be an early priority for the former vice president, who would also pursue high-level and persistent efforts to bolster relationships with traditional U.S. allies, especially in Western Europe and Northeast Asia. One advantage of this approach, among others, is that it wouldn’t cost much in terms of budgetary outlays at a time when America is still suffering from its disastrous handling of the COVID-19 pandemic, and as the national debt is soaring.
Financial limitations stemming from these realities, as well as the slow growth inherent to a mature economy, all lead to what may be the biggest challenge to American power in the next decade or two. But it has little to do with the traditional “guns versus butter” arguments of budget hawks, who will soon be crawling out of the woodwork no matter who wins in November. America’s looming problem as a global power is one that has gotten little attention in Washington: A country that was long a leader in providing public goods has nearly abandoned this once traditional role.
Claiming to embody certain values and advocating for liberal ideals are fine. But without contributing more actively and creatively to trying to solve fundamental human problems—the kind of challenges that are immediate and practical in nature, and bound up in the everyday lives of billions of people—America’s star will continue to fade.
The country that has surged, almost out of nowhere, to soft power prominence over the past two decades has, of course, been China. If not exactly generous, because so much of its activity has been commercial, China has nonetheless revealed impressively broad shoulders around the world after decades of being mostly inward-looking. This has surprisingly made it the leading provider of tangible public goods that speak to the nitty-gritty needs and challenges of hundreds of millions of people. And although by no means exclusive, the main stage of its activity has been Africa, where the Chinese have financed and built a staggering amount of infrastructure in recent years, from highways and railways to ports and airports, leaving not only the United States, but the World Bank and Europe’s former colonial powers, in the dust.
Beijing’s Western critics frequently jeer from the sidelines, complaining that what China is really doing is engineering an enormous debt trap to ensnare weak and unsuspecting countries. But while the transparency issues around Chinese lending are real, it is hard not to ascribe much of their criticism to chagrin over the loss of Western influence and power, especially given their failure to propose viable alternatives.
Under the circumstances, so-called developing countries in Africa would be foolish not to prudently take advantage of China’s big lend-and-build schemes, even if they are part of a gambit to boost Chinese business interests and political influence. The more interesting question is where this leaves the United States and other rich, democratic countries.
Americans should treat skeptically the calls that are bound to begin multiplying soon to match Beijing ship for ship. It should focus instead on soft power and public goods.
A recent column by Liberia’s former minister of public works, W. Gyude Moore, who is now a senior fellow at the Center for Global Development, asked the question in a more plaintive way. Why is it, he wondered, that “in its complicated, enmeshed, centuries-long history in Africa, there has never been a Western proposal for continental-scale infrastructure building? Outside Cecil John Rhodes’s racist ‘civilising’ project of connecting Cape to Cairo from the 1870s, there has never been any programme, backed by financial resources, to build Africa’s rail, roads, ports, water-filtration plants, or power stations.”
In the past, Western imperial powers did in fact build a fairly considerable amount of infrastructure on the African continent, but they did so mainly in pursuit of their own, rather narrow, self-interest. History will determine to what extent today’s Chinese projects are different.
What Western countries can do today, though, is not simply a matter of political choices or will. It is bound up in economic history and stages of development. The big, rich countries of the world are demographically old or fast-aging societies that—with the notable exceptions of Germany and Japan, and unlike China today—lack great stores of national savings, or surplus capital that they could easily marshal and deploy in international development programs, if their publics would even consent to such a thing.
For those very reasons, the United States is unlikely to be able to compete with its own massive development projects. That doesn’t mean that it should abandon infrastructure development to China as completely as it seems to have done in recent years. Instead, it should focus more strategically, prioritizing issues like smart and sustainable urbanization, for example, especially because cities are growing in Africa faster than on any other continent.
Not specializing in major infrastructure needn’t mean not thinking boldly again about helping other countries meet their most important challenges, which is what Washington will have to do a lot more of if it wishes to retain a semblance of the global influence it has long enjoyed. But where Africa is concerned, the question is whether the United States, after years of neglect, can reengage with a fast-changing continent as a place that not only matters economically and politically, but will increasingly shape the future.
Beyond urbanization, there are other areas where American knowhow and resources have a lot to offer—like renewable energy, the reinvention of old power grids, education at all levels, public health and environmental protection. The United States will find willing and eager African partners to the extent that the experts it sends come prepared to respect, listen and learn as much as they share and teach.
Finally, a criticism like Moore’s leaves aside the vital question of when and how Africa will develop the capacity to build much more of its own basic physical infrastructure. There is little reason in the 21st century for the continent to depend on foreign countries, whether the United States, China or any other, to build so many of its major roads and airports. As much as technical capacity or even capital, Africa’s limitations when it comes to its own infrastructure also reflect a failure of political imagination and will. Rather than relying on foreign developers, African countries should be encouraging their own big local infrastructure players and banks to emerge and compete freely across borders. The main work of overcoming the Balkanization of the continent left behind by European colonialism is first and foremost a challenge for Africans.
Howard W. French is a career foreign correspondent and global affairs writer, and the author of four books, including most recently “Everything Under the Heavens: How the Past Helps Shape China’s Push for Global Power.” You can follow him on Twitter @hofrench. His WPR column appears every other Wednesday.
