Progressive Internationalism is Counterproductive to American Interests: Part II

The following critiques add to my initial analysis in Providence Magazine from March 18, 2025.

Megan Stewart, Jonathan Petkun and Mara Revkin in Foreign Affairs (July/August 2024) respond to a growing association between progressivism and U.S. retrenchment in the world. They argue for a “refined” understanding of a progressive-oriented U.S. foreign policy. The authors believe that the U.S. should retain power and the ability to act in the world provided it follows ethical, humane and just guidelines.

Stewart, Petkun and Revkin’s “refinement” create more doubts and questions than affirmations and answers. I previously demonstrated the problems with the three “fundamental principles” of progressive foreign policy identified by the authors. I discuss here that the challenges to their “refinement” extend to the application of policy. The authors struggle with developing a rubric for progressive U.S. engagement. Their quest for a U.S. foreign policy to be “a force of good” in the world exhibits inadequacies and inconsistencies.

Firstly, the authors indulge in counterfactuals to make their case. They claim that the U.S. failed to intervene in several humanitarian crises, most notably that of Rwanda, resulting in the further loss of life. But how does one know that U.S. involvement would have been an overall net positive? Would it have evolved into a costly, long-term troop presence? Would U.S. forces have become intertwined in the conflict? Would they have made monsters while seeking to destroy them? Would they have inadvertently ignited broader regional conflict? Would they have caused Rwanda to collapse altogether?

The Foreign Affairs authors’ use of counterfactuals raises other questions. In these predicaments, what are the U.S. priorities? It is about saving lives? Does it require a progressive consensus to act on an issue? It is not clear.

Secondly, their lack of clarity extends beyond the counterfactuals. Stewart, Petkun and Revkin employ questionable examples to buttress their argument. Their use of Sweden is somewhat puzzling. They cite Sweden’s humanitarian support of anti-imperialist forces in Mozambique and Guinea Bissau in the 1960s and 1970s as proof of the consistency of progressive principles in international spaces.

But can the United States learn from or follow Sweden? The Scandinavian country has not been much of an international presence or has a history of imperialism in the last 200 years. The U.S. has been at the center of international affairs for 80 years. Everything the United States does is placed under a microscope.  Does identity and recent history influence perceptions of humanitarian support? Are there no other or better examples than Sweden?

Another instance of questionable examples is their discussion of direct military involvement and progressive values. On the one hand, they present the dangers of military involvement by highlighting how the NATO intervention in Libya went sideways. On the other hand, they demonstrate how the U.S. invasion of Kuwait and the expulsion of Saddam Hussein’s forces was a success. So what is it? Is it about the ability to control outcomes or just an issue of operating within defined boundaries? If one cannot control conditions or outcomes, should military involvement be ruled out?

Additionally, Libya and Kuwait are two different scenarios. Intervening in civil wars and revolutions are much dicer and complicated affairs than ending a foreign occupation. In the case of civil wars and revolutions, multiple sides exist and one does not know who or what will be the replacement. They also have a tendency to spill over into other countries (as it did with Libya). Is more direct military involvement required if it compounds situations? Ending the foreign occupation of a country suggests a return to the status quo—reinstalling the royal family in Kuwait.

Thirdly, their application of a defensive war of necessity raises questions and concerns. Their thinking suggest the authors have fallen victim to their circumstances—living and operating from the safety of America and the confines of the ivory tower. No one is lurking over the border ready to strike or existing in an environment prone to instability. What about American allies who live in hostile neighborhoods? Should they be held accountable to the same thinking and behavior? Is not the best defense sometimes a good offense?

Fourthly, the authors emphasize the need for the U.S. to better monitor their allies’ use of American weapons. They advocate for American assistance to victims when allies abuse American weaponry. So, in the case of Yemen, the “abuse” of American weaponry by Saudi Arabia will require American taxpayers to rebuild the homes and infrastructure of a people—the Houthis— regularly calling for death to America?

Lastly, the authors argue that President Biden’s progressive foreign policy credentials are “ambiguous.” It is their understanding of what should constitute U.S. foreign policy that is so.  Fixated on hard power, the military, while unable or unwilling to note other instruments of U.S. foreign policy, the authors failed to note that the Biden administration has been unprecedented in pushing progressive ideas and projects through the State Department and United States Agency for International Development.

In this additional analysis, Stewart, Petkun, and Revkin’s use of examples and seemingly narrow understandings further detract from the merits of their argument. Their “refinement” does little to rectify the issues that arise when progressives discuss the how, where, when and why the United States should engage the world. Similar to previous writings on the topic, doubt remains about the ability of progressive internationalism to advance American interests and uphold U.S. security.