Be Wary of Solidarity

The American Solidarity Party treads in dangerous territory when it comes to foreign policy.

Disclaimer: the views represented in this article reflect those solely of the author. In no way, shape, or form are they representative of the institutional position of the Freemen Newsletter or the Freemen Foundation.

Every so often I see a Twitter post from a disaffected centrist, or sometimes a pro-lifer, urging voters to consider the American Solidarity Party. It is a party with unofficial roots in Catholic Social Teaching. That makes it socially conservative (pro-life and supportive of traditional marriage), but modestly redistributionist on the economic side, and open to more aggressive environmental policies. Most American third parties don’t deserve a second glance, but Trump’s retreat on pro-life issues likely gives American Solidarity a chance to earn slightly more name recognition than it would have otherwise achieved. The party’s board of advisors also includes some big names, notably Patrick Deneen and Chad Pecknold (another leading integralist postliberal). 

Consider this column a public service announcement to anyone who’s been tempted by the prospect of American Solidarity: if you have even the vaguest concern about foreign policy, cast your vote elsewhere. You’re better off writing in Mitt Romney or Joe Manchin or your buddy from work or the first person you meet in the street. The party’s foreign policy platform sounds like Jill Stein scribbled it on the back of a napkin right before drifting off to sleep.

Yes, voters don’t care about foreign affairs, but it’s never a good sign when a party with national political aspirations lists 14 other categories before even reaching “foreign policy” on its platform. Clicking on the link reveals a list of bullet points either useless because so obviously true, or useless because so obviously nonsensical. 

The platform begins by expressing support for Just War Theory. Great—all of modern international law with respect to war is basically a secularized version of Just War Theory. No one disagrees. But then it claims that “military interventions by the United States have rarely complied with just war principles and have usually been counterproductive.” Perhaps there’s room to quibble on jus ad bellum—i.e., whether going to war is justified in the first place—for several recent conflicts, but America’s jus in bello track record—conduct within war—is unrivaled in modern history. America is Just War Theory’s poster child, not its whipping boy. Then the platform calls “for an end of [sic] the exertion of military hegemony over the world.” There can be no end to a thing that never started.

The platform opposes unilateral interventions abroad, except when there’s a “catastrophic threat to international security for which there is no multilateral response and we have no formal declaration of war.” I don’t know how that happens, but it’s unclear why the US should prefer intervention without a formal declaration—especially because, two bullet points later, the platform calls on Congress to “reassert its war-making powers” and complains about the abuse of presidential power over war. 

The platform rejects “the use of lethal drones against civilian populations or in neutral countries.” I don’t believe anyone, except Russian and Iran, supports the use of lethal drones against civilian populations, and I can’t think of any example ever in which the US has deliberately targeted civilians in drone strikes. Drone use in “neutral countries,” on the other hand, involves a complex legal debate. Categorical opposition to such strikes would probably also preclude the raid on Bin Laden’s Pakistani complex. 

The platform opposes the “fueling of foreign conflicts through American arms sales.” Those arms sales, far from “fueling conflicts,” are among the greatest guarantors of global peace—and a boon to blue-collar American workers. 

There are a few interesting or at least debatable ideas: they’d like to renegotiate the Intermediate-Range Nuclear Force Treaty by including China, which won’t happen but makes theoretical sense. They think foreign policy should have an environmental component. They think America should apologize to Japan for dropping the atomic bomb—again, not going to happen, but perhaps logical for a party that wants to emphasize moral limits on policy.

But the apology demand hints at the biggest underlying problem: in Solidarity’s moral story, America is the bad guy. The platform calls on America “to end support for corrupt governments” and avoid “cultural imperialism.” And it calls on America “to cease assisting other countries in committing extrajudicial killings, acts of torture, and other human rights violations.” The common thread in all this is clear: America is basically a force for evil in the world. We should apologize, go home, and sit in the corner. 

This kind of thinking is unacceptable for a party that claims to emphasize virtue, the common good, and religion. Realism makes a good case against isolationism and retrenchment. But the moral argument for American involvement in global affairs—an involvement backed by the best weapons and the most powerful military on earth—may be even stronger. World peace, such as it is, rests on American military power. Europe is free from communism and fascism because of our arms. Indeed, Europe is at peace within itself only because America’s security blanket made economic union possible and eliminated the rivalries that created a thousand years of internal bloodshed. Ukraine is holding on because of those weapons sales American Solidarity thinks “fuel conflict.” China does not invade Taiwan because it fears us. American bombs and American weapons (along with Iraqi and Kurdish lives) eliminated ISIS. American fighter jets intercept Iranian missiles and keep the Red Sea open for trade. 

American Solidarity’s foreign policy platform, then, is not “American” and displays precious little “solidarity” with the rest of the world. Maybe America should step back and focus on domestic problems. But that argument, even if it’s right, is no argument from “solidarity.” It circumscribes the common good within America’s borders. It is not, on American Solidarity’s own premises, a platform that deserves a second gland. 

Jonathan Meilaender is a JD candidate at Harvard Law and is concurrently engaged in a Master’s program in German and European studies at Georgetown University. He received his BA in Politics from Saint Vincent College where he was also Editor-in-Chief of the Saint Vincent College Review. @JMeilaender