President-elect Joe Biden recently acknowledged the sacrifices required from Americans during the coronavirus pandemic in a set of addresses to the nation. From appreciation for front-line workers to the pain of missing a family member, Biden emphasized the importance of social distancing as a “statement of common purpose” for Americans, pointing to this act of restraint as demonstrating care for fellow community members.
The distinctly domestic focus of Biden’s message and his emphasis on caring for the well-being of every individual made the concluding remarks of his Thanksgiving address all the more surprising. “I, honest to God, believe the 21st century’s going to be an American century,” Biden said. He reiterated this in a second, recorded message: “I know the 21st century will be an American century.”
“American Century” has a distinct lineage, one that explicitly turns on the U.S. role in the world. Biden’s inclusion of the phrase has much to tell us about the brand of foreign policy he might pursue as president. For four years, President Trump has based his foreign policy decisions exclusively on what would immediately (economically) benefit the United States alone, imperiling the nation’s reputation with his mercurial behavior in the process. Biden’s rhetoric suggests in part that his foreign policy will be framed by a desire to undo the damage of the Trump administration — to reclaim the respect that made the United States a lead player on the world stage.
However, it also signals something more. The concept of the American century called for an accumulation of soft power, influence and hegemonic relations. It normalized U.S. dominance. Crucially, the American Century envisions the United States as the arbiter of what democracy means and where it should be enforced, setting the stage for an interventionist policy — a blend of economic pressures, diplomacy and military support, with U.S. military presence a last resort — that reshapes the world in one nation’s image.
The term has a long history. Initially coined in 1941 by Henry Luce, the owner of Life Magazine, the American Century became shorthand for the notion that the United States was inevitably and justly the sole global authority in the second half of the 20th century. Luce argued that the tumultuous state of the world, at the time embroiled in World War II, was a consequence of American reluctance to embrace the leadership role it was destined to take on. This reluctance, Luce held, was understandable given the financial, material and human costs of war but nevertheless erroneous, negating the mission at the heart of the American project — to “be the powerhouse from which the ideals [of enterprise, democracy, and freedom] spread throughout the world.”
This vision of the United States as the source of global uplift necessitated a break from the isolationism that animated U.S. policy after the economic crash of 1929, when domestic economic recovery emerged as the guiding principle of congressional action. In this context, expensive overseas engagements — whether imperial, economic or missionary — were looked upon suspiciously.
The break with isolationism arrived when the United States entered into World War II in December 1941, after the attack on Pearl Harbor. Thereafter, the U.S. role paved the way for a general doctrine of just intervention and hegemony that would shape American foreign policy in the Cold War and beyond. Victory in World War II solidified the belief that U.S. interference would be of global benefit. As Luce held, it was time to “exert upon the world the full impact of our influence, for such purposes as we see fit and by such means as we see fit” — meaning, not at the request of others. This, too, captures a spirit of “American interests first.”
Conceptually, then, the notion of an American Century provided the United States with the leeway to intervene overseas at its leaders’ discretion under the abstract rubric of the common good. In reality, this public relations gambit often obscured specific national interests. During the Cold War, the policy of containment was framed entirely by the understanding that without the American system of Western capitalism, liberty was at risk. Military interventions in Vietnam, Korea and the Middle East were all motivated by a blend of Cold War half-truths and naked U.S. economic interest. Free enterprise and the flourishing of the American economy were always a central tenet of the American Century, always assumed to be in the world’s best interest, too. So, too, was U.S. military dominance.
Foreign military and economic intervention became part and parcel of this American Century, be it through financial support to pro-American governments in South America, Asia and the Middle East or the establishment of permanent military bases in these regions, as was the case in places such as South Korea and Bahrain. When the Soviet Union fell in 1989, the United States lost its main competitor, but new challenges to the American Century soon arose.
Biden’s invocation of the term is a response to persistent narratives that have concluded the American Century has come to an end: Eclipsed by China, economically, for example. Disrespected by Russia and Iran in matters of global import. Bogged down by a debilitating “forever war” in the Middle East. Whereas Trump’s response to this sense of American decline was to erratically seek stopgap solutions to revive the country economically no matter the diplomatic cost, Biden’s American century seems to suggest a more ambitious restoration, with a belief that a forceful global role will itself bring the kinds of economic, diplomatic and democratic dominance that will make the United States the unchallenged and desired leader of the world again.
What this role will look like, however, is more complicated than Luce’s claim of a “powerhouse of democracy” leads on. It is not just democratic idealism that motivates U.S. policy.
Support for Israel, for example, is a key bipartisan tenet of U.S. foreign policy, even if this technically violates the very ideals the American Century posits as integral to itself, i.e. spreading democracy, equality and justice. Nevertheless, even as Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu continued to voice clear support for Trump — after already draping a massive banner celebrating their special bond over a building in Tel Aviv in 2019, and even after repeated human rights violations vis-a-vis the Palestinians — Biden and Vice President-elect Kamala D. Harris firmly reiterated their commitment to Israel. An American century thus means another century where a two-state solution and Palestinian self-determination never will be.
Saudi Arabia is another site where the economic and democratic ideals enveloped by the American Century are in tension. While per the logic of the American Century the United States is destined to be the global harbinger of democracy, it may apply this influence selectively — as Luce’s modification holds, “as we see fit.” In Saudi Arabia, successive U.S. presidents have employed restraint to protect crucial (oil) business ties, even as evidence of human rights abuse or insurgent activities has mounted, such as in the murder of journalist Jamal Kashoggi. While Biden has condemned Saudi Arabia’s actions and promised to make sure allies enforce human rights protections, precedent set by President Barack Obama suggests that economic interest will hinder comprehensive sanctions. To remain a global economic power, the United States cannot afford to alienate the Saudi regime. Even if the necessity of access to Arab oil is itself an illusion, it is undeniably true that the perceived need to safeguard access to it has informed, per historian David S. Painter, “most of the major doctrines” of U.S. foreign policy.
Rhetorically, however, these doctrines have been routed through more-abstract visions for democracy, freedom and liberty, and this is where we most powerfully see the enduring allure of the American Century. We can see this, for example, in the recent imposition of U.S. power in Iraq and Afghanistan, where both economic systems and legislative organizations were transformed to better fit American values and interests, yet where intervention was framed as an issue of democracy and human rights.
Biden has vowed to make the safeguarding of human rights across the globe a central part of his presidential agenda. While it seems counterintuitive, this fits with an American Century in its classic definition. Human rights are often the stated impetus for U.S. interventions abroad, for establishing a “new kind of empire,” for example in the case of Iraq. Nevertheless, if Biden wants to commit to the democratic ideals he outlined — ideals that are not exclusive to the United States, despite much self-fashioning to the contrary — the U.S. role in the world should be one of creating conditions for self-determination to flourish everywhere, not just in strategic locations. The biggest legacy Biden could leave is for the 21st century to not be an American one.