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Mostrando postagens com marcador Woodrow Wilson. Mostrar todas as postagens
Mostrando postagens com marcador Woodrow Wilson. Mostrar todas as postagens

domingo, 2 de junho de 2019

Woodrow Wilson: moralista ou patetico idealista?: - Book (Patricia O'Toole) Review (by Ross Kennedy) - H-Net

Uma resenha por um historiador qualificado que critica a autora desta nova biografia de Woodrow Wilson.

Kennedy on O'Toole, 'The Moralist: Woodrow Wilson and the World He Made' [book review]

by H-Net Reviews
Patricia O'Toole. The Moralist: Woodrow Wilson and the World He Made. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2018. Illustrations. xviii + 636 pp. $35.00 (cloth), ISBN 978-0-7432-9809-4; $20.00 (paper), ISBN 978-0-7432-9810-0.
Reviewed by Ross Kennedy (Illinois State University) Published on H-Diplo (June, 2019) Commissioned by Seth Offenbach (Bronx Community College, The City University of New York)

Patricia O’Toole’s new book, The Moralist: Woodrow Wilson and The World He Made, lays out a critical interpretation of the statecraft of one of the most consequential US presidents of the twentieth century. A biography, the volume touches on Woodrow Wilson’s family life, domestic politics, and several foreign and military policies of the Wilson administration. But overwhelmingly the book focuses on Wilson and World War I, so this review will limit itself to discussing that topic. O’Toole portrays the president’s approach to the war and peacemaking as a product of his moralism (hence the book’s title), his faith in American exceptionalism, and his isolated, self-righteous style of decision-making. Her case is engagingly presented; a prolific author of popular works of history, O’Toole is a good writer. She oversimplifies Wilson’s policies toward the war and their underlying rationale, however, which makes her argument unconvincing.
This problem becomes apparent early in the book, in O’Toole’s analysis of Wilson’s neutrality policies. She argues that Wilson’s goal was to stay out of the war so that the United States could mediate an end to it on the basis of a “peace without victory” and the establishment of a worldwide collective security organization (p. 240). This program was rooted in Wilson’s belief in the moral superiority of the United States and his sense of duty; “he justified U.S. neutrality not on grounds of national interest but as a noble response to a senseless war” (p. xvii). According to O’Toole, Wilson’s policy was naïve and “ethereal” because the belligerents never had any interest in the president’s mediation efforts (p. 205). “Lost in dreams of peace” and too stubborn to accept the failure of his policy to produce results, Wilson persisted in his mediation attempts far too long, leaving America unprepared for fighting when Germany forced it into the war (p. 235).
Certainly few historians would disagree that Wilson had a moralistic streak and believed in American exceptionalism. But it is inaccurate to attribute Wilson’s goal of international reform to these factors alone. Security considerations influenced the president too. To Wilson, the war revealed that the United States had lost its ability to isolate itself from the currents of international power politics. On several occasions, for example, he worried that if Germany won the war, the United States would have to expand its military defenses to a point threatening to its democracy. He also repeatedly observed that the war profoundly affected America’s economy and politics and that its scale made neutrality almost impossible to maintain. O’Toole includes some of these statements in her descriptive narrative but does not comment on them. They reveal, though, that Wilson saw the creation of a postwar peace league not just as morally good or as the fulfillment of America’s mission to serve humanity but also as vital to US national security.
It is also problematic to characterize Wilson’s pursuit of mediation as naïve and detached from European political reality. Various scholars have demonstrated that significant factions within the British and German governing class—the targets of Wilson’s mediation efforts—recognized by 1916 that the war might not be winnable at an acceptable cost and that a compromise peace therefore might be worth exploring. Indeed, the months immediately after the United States entered the war witnessed a flurry of peace initiatives in Europe as the Allied military situation deteriorated and Germany’s liberal and socialist parties challenged their government’s war aims. O’Toole displays little interest in these events or the scholarship analyzing them, but they indicate that Wilson’s quest to mediate an end to the war, while facing an uphill climb, was hardly quixotic.[1]
O’Toole’s treatment of Wilson’s policies after April 1917 is similarly cursory. After Germany’s submarine campaign rendered neutrality impossible and Wilson accepted war with the Reich, the president, O’Toole asserts, dedicated himself to defeating its armed forces and destroying its autocracy. Once Wilson accomplished that goal, he still wanted to build a new world order based on a league of nations to provide collective security and on such principles as arms reduction and self-determination. This vision of peace included Germany, O’Toole emphasizes; Wilson’s Fourteen Points Address and other statements “proposed a world order that rested on the equality of all nations” and promised “impartial justice for all,” including Germany (pp. 307, 326). According to O’Toole, Wilson fought for this program at the Paris Peace Conference in the face of intense opposition from the Allies, who, unlike Wilson, thought of peace only in terms of national interest, spoils, and treating Germany “as history’s greatest villain” (p. 392). Unfortunately, Wilson’s moralism, vanity, and poor political skills crippled his ability to gain his ends. His moral self-righteousness was “made for oratory, not negotiation,” O’Toole laments, so his agenda for international reform was “cut to the bone” at Paris (pp. 402, 401).
This is a familiar narrative of Wilson’s wartime goals and peacemaking, echoing one famously put forward by John Maynard Keynes in 1920 (The Economic Consequences of the Peace). It does not accord with the evidence, however. Wilson’s policy toward Germany during the war was complicated and it was not static; it changed over time. In the summer of 1917, the president hoped that the combination of military setbacks and promises of a peace of equality to a democratic Germany would induce Germany’s majority parties in the Reichstag to take power and begin peace talks. He made this nuanced policy clear in his reply to the Vatican’s peace initiative in August 1917—a statement that O’Toole does not mention. By late 1917, however, Wilson began to perceive that Germany’s democratic parties and its autocratic leaders shared a commitment to driving Russia out of the war and expanding the Reich’s power in eastern and southeastern Europe. Beginning in his December 1917 annual message (another key statement that O’Toole does not address) and continuing in subsequent speeches, including the Fourteen Points Address of January 1918, Wilson indicated he did not trust Germany’s democratic parties and would not genuinely negotiate with them if they took power. Instead, prior to any end to the fighting, they had to accept Wilson’s Fourteen Points. While this program included general principles of a new world order and promises of a place of equality for Germany, it also implied Germany would lose some of its 1914 territory and would have to pay reparations to Belgium and France—key parts of Wilson’s peace program that O’Toole leaves unmentioned. Moreover, Wilson suggested that although Germany probably would be allowed into a league of nations whether it democratized or not, it would be subjected to economic coercion to ensure it carried out the terms of the peace treaty.[2]
This shift to a more punitive orientation in Wilson’s German policy did not mean that he had abandoned his goal of international reform; O’Toole is correct in arguing that Wilson remained committed to that objective during and after the war. But the German policy that emerged in December 1917 indicated that the means to attain international reform had changed. In 1915-16, the pathway to a world without power politics lay through a peace without victory; in 1917 it lay through a peace of equals with a democratic Germany. Now, in contrast, it lay through inflicting defeats on the German army not so much to trigger a democratic revolution at home as to show the German people the futility of aggression that they themselves had willingly supported. Ideally, this would lead them to acknowledge their crimes, to work to repair the wrongs they had committed, and to accept some limits on their future power to do harm again. Only through this process could they “redeem” their character, as Wilson put it, and then be welcomed into a new world order.[3]
Consequently, at the Paris Peace Conference, Wilson strove not for lenient treatment of Germany, as O’Toole argues, but for terms that would punish and weaken the Germans while leaving open the possibility of future reconciliation with them. At times this posture did lead to friction with the Allies, as Wilson wanted to avoid terms that he considered excessively harsh and likely to lay the seeds for another war, such as detaching the Rhineland from German sovereignty. Much more frequently, he had no problem imposing penalties on the Germans. He readily supported the treaty’s disarmament provisions, the permanent demilitarization of the Rhineland, France’s annexation of Alsace-Lorraine, the creation of the Polish corridor, the banning of Austrian unification with Germany for the foreseeable future, and the transfer of Saarland coal to France in reparation for Germany’s destruction of French coal. Even before the peace conference began, Wilson decided to exclude Germany from the League of Nations until it had a “decent” government and a demonstrated willingness to observe its international obligations. By weakening Germany’s disposition and capability to pursue aggression while holding out the promise of league membership to it if it behaved—“justice” for Germany in Wilson’s eyes—he could foster an international environment conducive to the new world order he wanted to build.[4]
The last part of O’Toole’s volume, covering Wilson’s failed effort to secure Senate ratification of the Versailles treaty, is more compelling than her interpretation of Wilson’s diplomacy. Here she provides a vivid description of the president’s political miscalculations and health problems, rightly placing the blame for the treaty’s defeat on Wilson himself more than anyone else. Especially after his massive stroke in early October 1919, Wilson became more hostile than ever to the notion of compromising with his opponents, despite the fact he did not have the votes to get the treaty ratified without reservations attached to it. Convinced he was morally right to stand firm, he “held his adversaries in contempt” and let the treaty fail rather than shift course to accommodate political reality (p. 435).
Overall, however, The Moralist is a disappointing book. Attributing Wilson’s statecraft during World War I fundamentally to his personality quirks can make for an entertaining story. But such an interpretation ignores much of the scholarship written on the war and on Wilson in recent decades. It also reduces Wilson to a one-dimensional, almost cartoonish figure. Whatever one’s assessment of the wisdom of Wilson’s approach to the war and peacemaking, it was a complex sequence of policies reflecting a variety of factors, including specific views of US national security, the balance of power between the belligerents, and the character of Germany’s people. To get a grasp of those policies, one also has to pinpoint their connections to Wilson’s overarching goal of international reform and to be alert to how they changed over time. O’Toole’s book does not do that, which makes it of limited value to those interested in learning what Wilson was trying to do and why he did it.

Notes
[1]. David Stevenson, Cataclysm: The First World War as Political Tragedy (New York: Basic Books, 2004), 105-6, 108-11, 212-14, 229-30; Alexander Watson, Ring of Steel: Germany and Austria Hungary in World War I (New York: Basic Books, 2014), 257-64, 416-24, 455-58; Karl E. Birnbaum, Peace Moves and U-Boat Warfare: A Study of Imperial Germany’s Policy towards the United States, April 18, 1916-January 9, 1917 (New York: Archon Books, 1970); Daniel Larsen, “War Pessimism in Britain and an American Peace in Early 1916,” International History Review 34, no. 4 (December 2012): 795-817; David Stevenson, “The Failure of Peace by Negotiation in 1917,” The Historical Journal 34, no. 1 (March 1991): 65-86; and Brock Millman, Pessimism and British War Policy, 1916-1918 (London: Frank Cass, 2001).

[2]. For the key Wilson statements on Germany, see Woodrow Wilson, “An Address to a Joint Session of Congress,” April 2, 1917, in The Papers of Woodrow Wilson, ed. Arthur S. Link, vol. 41, January 24-April 6, 1917 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1983), 519-27; Wilson to Edward Mandell House, with enclosure (reply to the Vatican), August 23, 1917, in Papers of Woodrow Wilson, ed.  Link, vol. 44, August 21-November 10, 1917 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984), 33-36; Wilson, “An Annual Message on the State of the Union,” December 4, 1917, in Papers of Woodrow Wilson, ed. Link, vol. 45, November 11, 1917-January 15, 1918 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984), 194-202; Wilson, “An Address to a Joint Session of Congress,” January 8, 1918, in ibid., 534-39; and Wilson, “An Address in the Metropolitan Opera House,” September 27, 1918, in Papers of Woodrow Wilson, ed. Link, vol. 51, September 14-November 8, 1918 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1986), 127-33.

[3]. Wilson, “An Address in the Metropolitan Opera House,” September 27, 1918, in Papers of Woodrow Wilson, ed. Link, vol. 51, September 14-November 8, 1918 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1986), 129. For another, somewhat different interpretation of the changing character of Wilson’s war aims, see John A. Thompson, A Sense of Power: The Roots of America’s Global Role (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2015), 56-109.

[4]. Wilson quoted in Ross A. Kennedy, The Will to Believe: Woodrow Wilson, World War I, and America's Strategy for Peace and Security (Kent, OH: Kent State University Press, 2009), 186. On the general point of Wilson’s punitive orientation at the peace conference, see Klaus Schwabe, Woodrow Wilson, Revolutionary Germany, and Peacemaking, 1918-1919: Missionary Diplomacy and the Realities of Power (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1985), 393-402; N. Gordon Levin, Jr., Woodrow Wilson and World Politics: America’s Response to War and Revolution (New York: Oxford University Press), 123-82; Manfred G. Boemke, “Woodrow Wilson’s Image of Germany, the War-Guilt Question, and the Treaty of Versailles,” in The Treaty of Versailles: A Reassessment after Seventy-Five Years, ed. Manfred G. Boemke, Gerald D. Feldman, and Elizabeth Glaser (Washington, DC: German Historical Institute), 603-14; and Marc Trachtenberg, “Versailles after Sixty Years,” Journal of Contemporary History 17, no. 3 (July 1982): 487-506. For good overviews of the Paris Peace Conference, see Alan Sharp, The Versailles Settlement: Peacemaking in Paris, 1919 (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1991); and Margaret MacMillan, Paris 1919: Six Months That Changed the World (New York: Random House, 2003).

Citation: Ross Kennedy. Review of O'Toole, Patricia, The Moralist: Woodrow Wilson and the World He Made. H-Diplo, H-Net Reviews. June, 2019. URL:http://www.h-net.org/reviews/showrev.php?id=53535

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

About the Author

Patricia O’Toole is the author of five books, including The Moralist: Woodrow Wilson and the World He Made, When Trumpets Call: Theodore Roosevelt after the White House, and The Five of Hearts: An Intimate Portrait of Henry Adams and His Friends, which was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize, the National Book Critics Circle Award, and the Los Angeles Times Book Prize. A former professor in the School of the Arts at Columbia University and a fellow of the Society of American Historians, she lives in Camden, Maine. (Amazon)

segunda-feira, 30 de abril de 2018

Woodrow Wilson: um racista internacionalista, by Patricia O'Toole - Book review

'The Moralist': What drove the 'tragic figure' of Woodrow Wilson?

A century after his term in office, many of Wilson's ideals remain deeply divisive.


In 1913, my great-grandparents – both pioneers in the Oklahoma Territory – decided to honor the brand-new Democratic president of the United States. So they gave the middle names Woodrow and Wilson to a pair of newborn twins – both girls.
My great-aunts each lived nearly a century, one that was deeply influenced by President Woodrow Wilson. He won a war, lost a peace, and pushed progressive values while failing to stand up for minorities, women, and American freedoms.
"He had really great triumphs and really spectacular defeats, and they've been important and lasting," says historian Patricia O'Toole, author of the new book The Moralist: Woodrow Wilson and the World He Made.
Now, nearly 100 years after Wilson began a wrenching decline while in office, some of his ideas remain deeply divisive – especially his landmark commitment to worldwide cooperation instead of isolationist nationalism.
Q: What fascinates you about Woodrow Wilson?
I was collecting books about presidential  greatness, and I took a look at the index of one of them. The Wilson entries just went on and on, and he took up more space than Lincoln, Washington or Roosevelt.
Q: Why did you title the book "The Moralist"?
His conscience and deep moral concern allowed him to get legislation through Congress for six years when he had control of both Houses. Then the country voted Republican in the mid-term election of 1918, and all of a sudden he's a minority president.
He's not used to this. He's still trying to lead by his conscience and notions of morality, but it's not working any more.
His admirable moral sense hardens into moral superiority. He becomes unbending and ever more certain that he's on the right side of history, the guardian of American ideals, and everyone else is a threat. It's an overwhelming moral vanity.
Q: How does he manage to be so progressive while being so backwards at the same time?
He had been a champion of free expression, but he now holds the record of the greatest repression of dissent of any president.
As for race, he believed in segregation, but he knew it wasn’t fair. He just didn’t know any other thing to do about it. He said he did not know how to pass a law that would change people's attitudes.
That, of course, is what people were still saying to Martin Luther King Jr. 50 years later.
Wilson might have taken more a more enlightened stand. You hope that a leader will do that, especially if he knows in his gut that his position is morally wrong. But he knew he would lose, so he just bowed to the pressure.
Q: What surprised you about Wilson?
He was afraid of other powerful men and couldn't schmooze. His only male friend was his doctor, and he had 99% of his meals either alone or with his family.
It's extremely different from Theodore Rosevelt. If you were in his office at 11 in the morning and talking to him about something, he'd be likely to say, "Well, senator, can you have lunch with me and my family? Quentin was asking about your dog the other day." You'd go back to Capitol Hill thinking, "I really like this guy. I'll work with him."
Wilson never had this kind of good will going for him.
The other surprising thing is that he was a terrible negotiator because he didn't approve of negotiation. He never understood that when you make concessions to other people, you can ask for concessions from them.
Q: Despite his dour appearance, Wilson was quite the besotted romantic when it came to women. What did you discover on that front?
Women were not threatening to him.There are love letters between him and his first wife, and it's clear that they could hardly wait to see each other and be in each other's arms.
After he loses her, he's absolutely desolate and doesn't imagine he'll have another wife at all. Then he falls in love at first sight with Edith Bolling Galt. Sometimes he'd walk back to the White House from her house, and he'd be whistling and do a jig.
[She become Wilson's second wife, and many historians believe she managed the White House when he fell ill toward the end of his second term.]
Q: What is Wilson's legacy?
It's internationalism – the idea that there should be one alliance in the world, that everyone would have an interest in preventing war.
He thought global problems required global cooperation and global solutions. It was the most truly revolutionary idea of the 20th century in international relations.
Q: Do you think he's a tragic figure?
I do. He really was a deeply principled man, but there are these blots on his record of race and gender and the repression of dissent.
And then he's a pathetic figure after the mid-term elections of 1918. He can't get anything done, and he's just railing against the world. That's tragic for him and for us.

quarta-feira, 9 de julho de 2014

Oriente Medio: revisitando os 14 pontos de Woodrow Wilson - David Ignatius (WP)

Rethinking Woodrow Wilson’s 14 Points
David Ignatius
The Washington Post, 9/07/2014

As U.S. policymakers ponder the future shape of the Middle East, they should perhaps recall that the United States was opposed to the 1916 Sykes-Picot agreement, the famous “line in the sand” that is now said to be dissolving.
The United States’ opposition back then was based on its rejection of the secret diplomacy between Britain and France that produced the plan to divide the Ottoman Empire after World War I. The United States opposed this neo-colonial carve-up of the region and called instead for the right to national self-determination.
The tragedy of the U.S. role in the modern Middle East is that it became, without entirely intending or realizing it, the protector of the very post- imperial order it once resisted. That story could fill a book, but for now, let’s refresh our memories about the alternative U.S. vision when the Ottoman Empire collapsed.
President Woodrow Wilson enunciated his framework in his famous “Fourteen Points” statement in January 1918, nine months after the United States had entered World War I. Following the armistice in November 1918, Wilson’s idealistic formula was a contentious centerpiece of debate at the Versailles peace conference. It was an inspiration to those who felt victimized by the old order and an annoyance to France and Britain.
Britain and France prevailed at Versailles, imposing a peace settlement so selfish and shortsighted that it all but guaranteed the rise of a revanchist Germany leading to World War II, and the endless headaches of the modern Middle East. It was, as David Fromkin titled his great 1989 history, “A Peace to End All Peace.” It’s this very fabric that is now ripping apart, as civil wars in Syria and Iraq create de-facto partitions of those countries. The question facing policymakers is whether to redraw the lines or let the region devolve into smaller cantons, like the ethnically cohesive “vilayets” of Ottoman times.
My sense is that it’s too early to judge whether the post-1919 boundaries are finished. After all, Lebanon was effectively partitioned during its 15-year civil war, but Lebanese national identity proved strong enough that its sovereignty was restored in the Taif Agreement of 1989. I’d guess that the Syrian national idea will survive over time, too. I’m not as sure about Iraq, but in any event, these are questions for the peoples of the region to decide, not outsiders.
What can Wilson’s Fourteen Points teach us that’s relevant to the current debate? The first five have some bearing, and they’re worth noting carefully because they set a framework for any reexamination of the Middle East map. Let’s list them, with some notations:
(1) “Open covenants of peace, openly arrived at.” This was Wilson’s reaction to the cynical private deal-making of Sir Mark Sykes and Francois Georges-Picot, which appalled observers such as T.E. Lawrence. Lesson for today: Any new order in the region must have buy-in from the region itself, starting with regional kingpins Iran and Saudi Arabia.
(2) “Absolute freedom of navigation upon the seas.” Still crucial for the United States, the world’s leading maritime power, is ensuring oil flow in the Strait of Hormuz and the Persian Gulf. But as U.S. power recedes, will China embrace this open, rules-based maritime order?
(3) “The removal, so far as possible, of all economic barriers.” The only hopeful vision of the region is one that begins with free trade, in which labor and capital flow across Israeli and Arab boundaries. This economically integrated Middle East could be astonishingly profitable.
(4) “National armaments will be reduced to the lowest point consistent with domestic safety.” The logic of a nuclear-weapons-free Middle East is becoming increasingly obvious, even to Israelis. Does Israel really benefit from a world in which Iran, Egypt and Saudi Arabia compete to match Israel’s undeclared deterrent?
(5) “In determining . . . questions of sovereignty, the interests of the populations concerned must have equal weight with the equitable claims of the government whose title is to be determined.” The heart of the matter. One implication: Kurdish aspirations to nationhood don’t trump Iraqi sovereignty, but they deserve equal weight.
Let us ponder, finally, the self-declared “Islamic State,” which meets none of these Wilsonian conditions. Indeed, it is a textbook example of illegitimate state-making.
The only positive aspect of the Islamic State is that the jihadists, by declaring their caliphate, have given their neighbors (and the world’s counterterrorism forces) an address. Any state that makes itself a safe haven for terrorism becomes a target. In that sense, the Islamic State was born with a suicide pill in its mouth.

quinta-feira, 26 de junho de 2014

A very big, BIG, What IF? - David Stockman on American intervention on World War I (The Globalist)

David Stockman, um economista liberal conhecido por ter renunciado ao cargo de diretor do orçamento do presidente Ronald Reagan, quando este, em lugar de prosseguir suas sólidas políticas de ajuste, começou a fazer keynesianismo militar, com seus enormes gastos de defesa (em especial a Strategic Defense Initiative, ou Star Wars), escreve aqui o que é, provavelmente, o maior BIG IF de toda a história contemporânea. Ele parte da hipótese de não envolvimento dos EUA na guerra europeia de 1914-1918 para chegar até os tempos atuais de Al Qaeda. passando pelas crises do entre-guerras e a própria Segunda Guerra.
Que a história seja imponderável isso sabemos todos. Que pequenas ações num setor provocam consequências em vários outros também sabemos.
Agora, afirmar que sem isso ou aquilo não teria acontecido aquilo outro e mais outra coisa já é um pouco de feitiçaria. Por exemplo: afirmar que sem essa intervenção, Alemanha e Itália teriam sido poupadas de experiências fascistas, e a Rússia do comunismo, é extremamente arriscado, uma vez que determinadas forças sociais existiam efetivamente, podem ter sido impulsionadas pela guerra, INDEPENDENTEMENTE da intervenção americana, e esses países poderiam ter passado por vários desses problemas, qualquer que fosse o resultado da guerra.
Ou seja, Stockman faz uma história mais virtual do que histórica.
Ficamos com Ranke e sua pretensão em examinar a história, wie es Eigentlich gewesen, como ela efetivamente se passou...
Paulo Roberto de Almeida

http://www.theglobalist.com/wwi-and-the-united-states-woodrow-wilsons-wisdom-or-folly/

WWI and the United States: Woodrow Wilson’s Wisdom or Folly?

Would Europe have become a better place faster if the United States had not intervened in World War I?

French Prime Minister Georges Clemenceau and U.S. President Woodrow Wilson at the Paris Peace Conference in 1919.

Takeaways


  • Had Woodrow Wilson not misled America on a messianic crusade, Europe’s Great War would have ended in 1917.
  • Absent President Wilson’s war, there would have been no allied victory, no punitive peace and no war reparations.
  • Europe -- and the world -- could have been a better place if the US had not intervened in the First World War.
  • WWI caused a boom the US Economy could not handle, eventually hurting the whole world.
  • WWI brought to a halt over 40 years of economic growth occurring all across Europe.

The first big wave of embracing a liberal international economic order — relatively free trade, rising international capital flows and rapidly growing global economic integration — resulted in something remarkable.
Between 1870 and 1914, there was a 45-year span of rising living standards, stable prices, massive capital investment and prolific technological progress. In terms of overall progress, these four plus decades have never been equaled — either before or since.
Then came the Great War. It involved a scale of total industrial mobilization and financial mayhem that was unlike any that had gone before. In the case of Great Britain, for example, its national debt increased 14-fold.
In addition, England’s price level doubled, its capital stock was depleted, most offshore investments were liquidated and universal wartime conscription left it with a massive overhang of human and financial liabilities.
Despite all that, England still stood out as the least devastated of the major European countries. In France, the price level inflated by 300%, its extensive Russian investments were confiscated by the Bolsheviks and its debts in New York and London catapulted to more than 100% of GDP.

Economic disaster after WWI

Among the defeated powers, currencies emerged nearly worthless. The German mark was only worth five cents on the pre-war dollar, while the country’s wartime debts — especially after the Carthaginian peace of Versailles which John Maynard Keynes skewered so brilliantly — soared to crushing, unrepayable heights.
In short, the wave of debt, currency inflation and financial disorder from the Great War was immense and unprecedented.
With all that in mind, one important question only rises in importance: Was the United States’ intervention in April 1917 warranted or not? And did it only end up prolonging the European slaughter?
Never mind that it resulted in a cockamamie peace, which gave rise to totalitarianism among the defeated powers. Even conventional historians like Niall Ferguson admit as much.
Had Woodrow Wilson not misled the United States on a messianic crusade, Europe’s Great War would have ended in mutual exhaustion in 1917. Both sides would have gone home battered and bankrupt — but would not have presented any danger to the rest of mankind.

What could have been

Indeed, absent President Wilson’s crusade, there would have been no allied victory, no punitive peace — and no war reparations. Nor would there have been a Leninist coup in Petrograd — or later on, the emergence of Stalin’s barbaric regime.
Likewise, there would have been no Hitler, no Nazi dystopia, noMunich, no Sudetenland and Danzig corridor crises, no need for a British war to save Poland, no final solution and Holocaust, no global war against Germany and Japan — and, finally, no incineration of 200,000 civilians at Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Nor would all of these events have been followed by a Cold War with the Soviets or CIA-sponsored coups and assassinations in Iran, Guatemala, Indonesia, Brazil, Chile and the Congo, to name just a few.
Surely, there would have been no CIA plot to assassinate Castro, or Russian missiles in Cuba or a crisis that took the world to the brink of annihilation.
There would have been no Dulles brothers, no domino theoryand no Vietnam slaughter, either. Nor would the United States have launched a War in Afghanistan’s mountain valleys to arouse the mujahideen from their slumber — and hence train the future al Qaeda.
Likewise, in Iran there would have been no Shah and his Savak terror, no Khomeini-led Islamic counter-revolution, no U.S. aid to enable Saddam’s gas attacks on Iranian boy soldiers in the 1980s.
Nor would there have been an American invasion of Arabia in 1991 to stop our erstwhile ally Hussein from looting the equally contemptible Emir of Kuwait’s ill-gotten oil plunder — or, alas, the horrific 9/11 blow-back a decade later.
Most surely, the axis-of-evil — that is, the Washington-based Cheney-Rumsfeld-neocon axis — would not have arisen, nor would it have foisted a near-$1 trillion warfare state budget on the 21st-century United States.

An artificial boom heard across the world

The real point of that Great War, in terms of the annals of U.S. economic history, is that it enabled the already-rising U.S. economy to boom for the better part of 15 years after the onset of the war.
In the first stage, the United States became the granary and arsenal to the European allies. This triggered an eruption of domestic investment and production that transformed the nation into a massive global creditor and powerhouse exporter, virtually overnight.
U.S. farm exports quadrupled and farm income surged from $3 billion to $9 billion. Land prices soared, country banks proliferated and the same was true of industry. For example, steel production rose from 30 million tons annually to nearly 50 million tons.
Altogether, in six short years from 1914 to 1920, $40 billion of U.S. GDP turned into $92 billion — a sizzling 15% annual rate of gain.

The depression that could have been avoided

Needless to say, these figures reflected an inflationary, war-swollen economy. After all, the United States had loaned the Allies massive amounts of money — all to purchase grain, pork, wool, steel, munitions and ships from the United States.
This transfer amounted to nearly 15% of GDP, or an equivalent of $2 trillion in today’s economy. It also represented a form of vendor finance that was destined to vanish at war’s end.
As it happened, the United States did experience a brief but deep recession in 1920. But it was not a thoroughgoing end-of-war one that would “de-tox” the economy.
The day of reckoning was merely postponed. It finally arrived in 1933 when the depression hit with full force. The U.S. economy was cratering — and Germany embarked on its disastrous “recovery” experience under Adolf Hitler.
These two events — along with so many of the above-listed offenses later on — could have been avoided if only the United States had shown the wisdom of staying out of World War I.

About David A. Stockman

David A. Stockman is an author, former U.S. politician and businessman. He served as Ronald Reagan's budget director from 1981-1985.