BY Tom Plate
BEVERLY HILLS ― The weight of the entire world will soon sit ominously on the shoulders of the elected successor to President George W. Bush.
It's too much weight to bear for any one human being, no matter the level of intellect, magnificent proposed policies, history-smashing background or personal magicality. The totality of all of it is simply too overwhelming for one man.
Under current worldwide economic circumstances ― which are frightening and unpredictable ― a normal person might rationally decide that only an irrational person would want to seize the crown of the presidency of the United States at this particular point in history.
In this formulation, then, the real winner of the race to the White House is the loser, if, as many predict, the next several years are to be seriously troubled ones at best ― and an overall nightmare at worst.
No one, to be sure, sets out purposely to lose the American presidency with a paradoxical calculation of that kind. After all, only those with phenomenal egos and almost monstrous ambitions ever apply for this huge job in the first place.
Perish the thought that history drives leaders in one direction or the other, not vice versa; that the impact of the individual leader on history is more likely to be marginal than massive. Modesty is not the first card U.S. politicians running for this office tend to pull out of their deck.
And yet the most important card that the new president can hope to play on the world stage now is nothing other than a sense of true, profound, almost spiritual modesty.
Not the false modesty of the insincere con-artist; but the true modesty of the wise man who knows his limitations can be overcome only with the heartfelt and committed solidarity of others who share good will and proper vision.
For the first time in a long time, arguably, the United States is in a rather weak position to preach to others. In foreign affairs it is bogged down in a war it needed not have begun. In international investment, it has engaged in financial practices that no one should have used.
And domestically it faces more problems that need fixing ― from infrastructure to education _ than one should expect of a nation so wealthy and, until recently anyway, so universally acclaimed as a superpower.
Preaching is not leading, we thus must remember ― it is scolding. The world listens most to those who themselves actually do things, rather than those who talk about what others should do.
People only pretend to listen to those who talk a good game if they think it would seem like bad form ― or dangerous foreign-relations ― for them not to give the appearance of listening to every word.
Our next president must understand and accept that our best and truest friends are not always the ones who tell us precisely what we want to hear, who constantly affirm our unique greatness, or work hard to reinforce our tendency to believe that those who are not with us must therefore be against us.
A real friend tells you there's a bit of lunch left over on your tie, some hairs that might be out of place, and some bad breath that must be addressed or at least re-directed. It is only your enemy who might certainly tell you that everything is just fine with the way you are.
Persuading others in the world to follow in your footsteps requires techniques more winning than the mere naked attempt at command and control. In order to get others to go along with you in new directions, it is not helpful to worship so obviously the ground you walk on.
A new American foreign-relations mindset will be necessary if the U.S. is to stay as a world leader of high quality and persuasive power.
Over the last many months the two competing candidates quarreled over many issues. But with one exception, their foreign-policy differences were comparatively minor. That one difference was the Iraq war, of course.
But even there the argument sometimes seemed more one of appearance than reality. The one candidate insisted that the U.S. should not be seen to have been defeated when it leaves; the other emphasized the point that the U.S. should accept that it should not ever have been there at all ― and thus should leave.
Either way, no one can deny that when we tried to lead the world into Iraq, very few wished to follow. The humble nation might have asked why not; the arrogant nation didn't care.
But listening to others with the wisdom of true humility will prove to be the key ingredient of the new U.S. mindset if in its foreign-policy it wishes not to walk so alone. These are trying times. We need to work together.
Veteran journalist Tom Plate, a member of the Pacific Council on International Policy, is a syndicated columnist. He can be reached at platecolumn@gmail.com.