Senator Dodd Speaks to the Council on Foreign Relations

Senator Dodd Speaks to the Council on Foreign Relations

Senator Dodd addressed the Council on Foreign Relations yesterday in New York City. His speech touched on America's moral authority in the 21st century and the important lessons to be learned from the post-WWII Nuremberg war crimes trials.

The full text of the Senator's speech follows:

Remarks By Senator Christopher J. Dodd
Council on Foreign Relations

"Moral Authority in the 21st Century: Lessons from Nuremberg"

Thank you. It's a pleasure to be here.

In a time of war, I have come to our Council today to speak about peace.

Not the kind of peace that is merely the absence of armed conflict.

Not the uneasy and uncertain peace of adversaries warily eying each other over material and philosophical barricades.

Certainly not the false peace of slogans emblazoned on naval warships.

Rather, I speak of a peace that is rooted in mutual respect and understanding, in open commerce and individual freedom, in a shared commitment to resolve differences other than by violence, and in the common values of all humanity.

To speak about lasting peace in a time of such global turmoil may strike some as unrealistic, even naïve.

But what is the chief aim of civilization if not universal peace? Nations fail or succeed according to their failure or success in this supreme undertaking. Our nation is no different.

As a member of this Council, Henry Kissinger, once said—"All great achievements in our common history were dreams before they became realities."

What, then, could be more realistic than to examine the ways in which America can advance its vital national interests in peace?

At the start of our examination, one certain truth emerges in sharp relief.

America must lead.

That is why it is so vitally important for America to establish a solid framework from which to conduct its global affairs.

This structure must include military strength, a robust diplomacy, global economic progress, and norms of national and international law predicated on freedom and justice.

When historians look back on the first part of the 21st century, there will be no debate whether the United States, as the world's most powerful nation, had the obligation of leadership. The debate will be whether the United States met that obligation.

The world is in great need of steady, secure, and enlightened leadership. Will the American experience be adequate, and will our political, economic, and moral strength be up to the tasks thrust upon us?

Well, in the words of Edward R. Murrow: "Difficulty is the one excuse that history never accepts."

So how will we answer the call? We have a choice between two paths.

The first—the path of isolation and unilateralism—has time and again proved ineffectual in shaping the world to our satisfaction. But the second—the path of bold engagement in the world—offers us a far brighter hope to advance our national interest in a more free and just world—and, therefore, a more peaceful world.

At the end of the First World War, the call to withdraw from world affairs was irresistible. America began to shut its shores to immigrants and cut off international trade. The Senate rejected the Treaty of Versailles and refused our seat at the League of Nations.

When Mussolini, Tojo, and Hitler began to build their empires, there was an inadequate multilateral response to their aggression.

Soon enough, the actions of the Axis powers would compel a different response. Even at the outset of World War II, Franklin Delano Roosevelt and Winston Churchill set out, in the remarkable Atlantic Charter, to try to ensure that no such titanic conflict could ever take place again. That work was further advanced in the city of Nuremberg, Germany, within days of the war's end.

The Nuremberg trial of Nazi leaders brought back its first verdicts 60 years ago this month. And besides its meaning in the history of America and of the world, Nuremberg has a deeply personal meaning for me. My father was the Executive Trial Counsel under Chief Prosecutor and Supreme Court Justice Robert Jackson.

He wrote more than 400 letters to my mother from Nuremberg from the summer of 1945 to the late fall of 1946, sharing his observations and thoughts about the Nazis, our allies, and the future.

Among other insights, the letters help us recall that there was by no means agreement among the Allied powers about how the fate of Nazi leaders should be determined.

The Axis powers took the lives of tens of millions—including Hitler's calculated murder of six million Jews.

Why not just shoot the guilty, as Winston Churchill wanted to do? Why not just give in to vengeance, which was certainly within our ability—and, many argued, within our right?

Ultimately, we chose a different course. We decided that, if the judgments rendered at Nuremberg were to truly reflect the Allies' commitment to defeating tyranny and lawlessness, those judgments would have to come following a trial. Not a trial in name, but a trial in fact. A trial that gave defendants certain rights—such as the right to be represented by counsel, to know the charges brought, to present a defense, and to be judged by impartial finders of fact.

What I call the Nuremberg generation understood that America was the only nation capable of creating a world of peace and stability. And they understood that our power to do so came not just from our ability to compel—as powerful as we were, as easy as it would have been—but rather, from our ability to convince, to lead by force of our example, rather than only the example of our force.

After Nuremberg, our leaders went further and argued for international institutions that would serve the common good of all nations.

They saw Europe and Japan devastated by fixed exchange rates and monetary collapse, so they created the International Monetary Fund.

Lacking capital for reconstruction, they created the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development—the World Bank.

They understood that commerce between nations could foster openness and stability, so they created the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade and followed it with rounds of negotiations to enable nations to trade and prosper. The United States stood for a cooperative, connected, and disciplined world economy based on law and economic liberty.

Those principles of cooperation held for international security, as well. America created NATO and established the principle of mutual defense—and the United Nations, which fostered the basic, cardinal tenet that the use of force is reserved for defense and collective security alone.

In sum, the Nuremberg generation urged all nations to follow us away from totalitarianism to the rule of law; away from dictatorship to democracy; away from vengeance to justice.

They issued this call not out of altruism, but out of pragmatism, the enlightened self-interest that considers not just tomorrow's needs, but the necessities of years to come. America's leaders created the systems and structures for the postwar world because they had to. The world's problems could simply not be addressed without American leadership.

And they were absolutely right.

The path of engagement and multilateralism created stable nations in Europe and Japan, new hope for progress in impoverished nations, and a growing international acceptance for legal standards that recognize the inherent worth and rights of all human beings. It was exactly the kind of world in which America could prosper—and we did, as did our allies.

But today, in my opinion, the path of isolation has gained a regrettable ascendancy. It is clear that the world is not only "questioning the moral basis of our war on terror," as Colin Powell recently said—it is doubting America's moral authority itself.

The American ideal has been tarnished, in the past few years, by America's own leaders.

We have been a country that frees people from torture, not a country that tortures.

We have been the country that respects privacy, not the country that breaks our own laws to spy on our citizens without warrant.

Above all, we have been a country were no one is above the law, not a country of unchecked central authority and executive fiat.

And in our foreign affairs, while our military strength remains unrivalled, the purposes to which it is put have been called into question. While our American troops can be found from Korea to the Republic of Colombia—we are morally isolated. Our ability to threaten is still unmatched—but our power to lead is sorely endangered. Our ability to advance our nation's vital interests is compromised. In that regard, the isolationism of the 1920s and the unilateralism of recent years bear a striking resemblance.

For a while, it is true, it looked as if America would continue on the path of engagement for the 21st century.

We all recall the immediate aftermath of 9/11: the civilized world standing shoulder to shoulder with America in its decision to destroy the al-Qaeda terrorist network and topple the Taliban regime.

The United Nations Security Council gave our decision international legitimacy—even China and Russia voted aye. For the first time in its history, NATO invoked Article V, the common self-defense clause.

Our actions in Afghanistan were in keeping with sixty years of American precedent, of multilateralism and consensus-building.

But when the time came to consider Iraq, we turned away from the world. The premise for that war lay in untested theory, in falsehood, in misrepresentations at the highest levels of our government.

They invaded Iraq with false pretenses, and for that, America paid a heavy price.

We are continuing to pay. Not just with American resources and lives—which are the most tragic cost of any war—but with American credibility—which is the unique cost of this war.

Because of our colossal, failed distraction in Iraq, we are further away from stabilizing Afghanistan and dealing a mortal blow to our al-Qaeda and Taliban enemies.

In fact, drug traffickers and tribal warfare now threaten to destroy Afghanistan's nascent democracy—and the Taliban is stronger now than at any point since our invasion.

Meanwhile, Iraq itself remains a broken, crippled, fractured society.

Because of our actions in there, our name commands less admiration and our word, less weight.

It is hard to imagine that America could be less safe today than it was five years ago. But according to our nation's 16 intelligence agencies, that is indeed the case. As a result of the misadventure in Iraq, they tell us that today there are more terrorists in the world, and there is more animosity toward the United States throughout the world.

These are not just injuries to our vanity, but direct blows to our ability to advance our vital national interests in a more secure and just world.

If the lesson was not already clear, let us burn it into our minds now. Isolation—whether the passive isolation of the 20's, or the aggressive isolation of Iraq—brings failure. Our best hope for a more peaceful world lies in engagement, example, authority.

In the remainder of my time, I'd like to talk about three ways we can build that world—because it is not too late to change course. By limiting nuclear proliferation—especially in North Korea and Iran—by rebuilding Iraq, and by countering radical Islam, we can help create a world that better respects and reflects our values.

First, proliferation. In Northeast Asia, the situation under President Clinton was bad but stable. Kim Jong Il was always unreliable, always seeking to press ahead toward nuclear weapons, but saw enough incentives and credible threats not to do so. But now, we have what the military calls a fact on the ground.

We have two options. The first one is to destroy the nuclear capacity. That means war—a costly and dangerous choice.

The second option is to contain North Korea and give it every reason to back off nuclear expansion. The Security Council's recent unanimous vote to sanction North Korea is an important start—but it is only a start.

Obviously China is the single most important factor, supplying half of North Korea's fuel and food. My view is that China needs to act like the world power it has become and be a leader in containing North Korea's interest in shipping weapons or technology anywhere, or receiving material to build weapons of its own.

And the United States should practice explicit nuclear accountability. We should state without question that use of any nuclear capability originating from North Korea, against the United States or our allies, will be considered an attack on the United States, and will be dealt with accordingly.

But our challenges in Northeast Asia are now much more complex. Japan will need to reconsider its position on nuclear weapons. We need to encourage it to remain nuclear-free. South Korea may well reconsider its relations with North Korea, along with what it wants from the United States. There is no room for misunderstanding. We need to stay engaged—diplomatically, politically, and economically, as well as militarily—with the South Koreans, Japanese, and Chinese.

In North Korea, and in Iran as well, we ought to continue to pursue bilateral talks. As former Secretary of State James Baker put it: "I believe in talking to your enemies. I don't think you restrict your conversations to your friends. It's not appeasement to talk to your enemies." Or in the eloquent words of John F. Kennedy: "Let us never negotiate out of fear. But let us never fear to negotiate."

Second, Iraq. If the potential spread of nuclear weapons to Pyongyang and Teheran represents a sin of omission—our failure to act—our involvement in Iraq represents a clear sin of commission, because of our failed actions. And our misadventure there has distracted us from our security interests in the rest of the world.

To redeem our grave error in Iraq, we need to shelve empty slogans and false, failed optimism—and grapple seriously with the work of rebuilding. Here, three areas are critical: security, domestic and regional political engagement, and economic reconstruction.

The hour has arrived when Iraq must assume the responsibility of policing itself. At great cost, the United States has given the Iraqi people the chance for a bright future.

Now they must seize that opportunity.

There is not a treasury deep enough or an army large enough to achieve this goal if the Iraqi people lack the will to achieve it for themselves.

I've been to Iraq twice during the current conflict. And my observations confirm all reports—that members of America's military are conducting themselves with extraordinary professionalism and courage.

But in Baghdad, Fallujah, and other large urban centers, our troops are essentially caught in the crossfire of a bloody civil war. We should begin immediately to reposition our troops to Kurdistan, where there is relative law and order, and where they would be more accepted; to other, less populated areas of Iraq, where their training of Iraqi forces can continue; and to border areas, where they can protect the territorial integrity of Iraq until Iraqi forces can do so themselves.

US forces should also be repositioned to military bases in Kuwait and Qatar where they can be available to protect our national security interests—and to Afghanistan, where we must redouble our efforts to capture bin Laden, dismantle al Qaeda, and neutralize the Taliban.

These movements should begin immediately, under the direction of our military leaders on the ground, with the goal of completing them within the next 12 to 18 months.

Ultimately, the solution to Iraq's unfolding civil conflict will not be a military one—it will be a political one. We need to do what we can to encourage Iraqi political and religious leaders—leaders like Ayatollah Sistani—to come to the table of national reconciliation.

Political engagement must also involve Iraq's neighbors, as well as regional and international organizations. The United States must not be reluctant to turn to international and regional mediators. And regional powers like Iran, Syria, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and Jordan could be enormously helpful in this effort. They all have their own interests, but surely stability in the Gulf region is among them.

A third and last key to remaking Iraq is rebuilding its economy. Common sense tells us that Iraq cannot sustain a functioning democracy or civil society if its economic life is in shambles. But Iraq's economy is in worse shape today than it was in March 2003: electric and water treatment capacity, oil production, access to clean water—are all below prewar levels.

Solving this problem demands international cooperation. The Iraqi government has formally requested help from the United Nations to develop an International Compact for Iraq. This compact could serve as a blueprint for a new partnership with the international community, one aimed at consolidating peace and pursuing political, social and economic development over the next five years.

That brings us to the third and most critical task facing America. The peace of the world is gravely threatened by the globalization of terrorism. As the home of the freedom and progress radicals despise, they see America as their natural enemy. How can America lead the world to end their threat?

If we are going to truly defeat terrorism, it's not enough to hunt down, capture, and kill terrorists. Because as our own intelligence agencies tell us, that kind of strategy is proving, thus far, to yield results opposite to what we seek. In addition to more aggressive military action in Afghanistan and elsewhere, we need to take several other steps.

One is to continue the hard work of improving our deeply-flawed intelligence-gathering ability. Another is to work with our allies in gathering intelligence and pursuing terrorists. Remember, Mohammed Atta planned the 9/11 attacks from Hamburg, Germany. When our worst enemies plot against us from the heart of our Western world, we will need much more than our bombers to root them out—we will need our allies' ready help.

Third, the United States needs to reduce our dependence on Middle East oil. It is the height of folly that our nation continues to pay billions of dollars each year to purchase non-renewable energy sources from nations committed essentially only to our continued dependence on their oil and to causes that are in conflict with our interests and values.

It is time for the United States to decide, once and for all, that we will rid our nation of its addiction to Middle East Oil. I believe it can be done in a decade, by turning to alternative, clean, and renewable sources of energy, and by using all energy more efficiently.

Of course, we must never presume that terrorists can be won over—we can only capture or kill them. Our military might will remain an essential tool for doing so.

But for every terrorist, there are millions more people simply waiting for a moral vacuum to be filled. This is the "silent majority" of the Muslim world, which has the power to give extremists material and ideological support—or to turn away from them, toward an alternative that offers the freedom to worship, and a more secure and prosperous future. That is why America's good name is much more than a luxury. If we do not fill the vacuum concrete actions that demonstrate our commitment of freedom and justice, the most hateful ideologies will.

One action we can take is to re-think our treatment of enemy combatants—because the manner in which we treat those whom we most despise or distrust is what distinguishes us as a nation.

As Ted Sorensen has observed: Just as the word "Nuremberg" once defined America's moral authority, what we now risk is that one day, the loss of our authority may also be defined by a single word: "Guantanamo."

But it is not too late to take that authority back. Toward that end, I intend to introduce legislation next month that would establish military commissions that will allow us to both effectively try terrorists, and at the same time uphold our nation's historic legal principles.

It will make the military commission process one that protects national security while upholding our international credibility—by, among other things, insisting that suspected terrorists will be treated consistent with norms of our national law and the Geneva Conventions, to which we are a signatory. If last century's most heinous criminals could receive due process, why should this century's most heinous criminals be denied it?

I've had time to discuss three of our most pressing tasks in the world. You know that there are many, many more. But they all share one thing in common. In the war on terror, and in all of the challenges we face, nothing will define our success more than one decision: whether to retreat in spirit from the world, or whether to lead it.

Those who argue that our moral authority compromises our nation's effectiveness or strength miss the point entirely: Our moral authority is the basis of that strength.

Our nation has been defeating tyrants for more than two centuries. And we have done it in a manner consistent with the principles that define who we are as Americans.

America will prevail in this new century of conflicts, and I am unalterably committed to our victory. I take my hope from the great works of the Nuremberg generation, from their tradition of tough-minded, principled leadership.

I'm an optimist. I sincerely believe that, when the history of this century is written, historians will note that after a shaky and unsure start, America returned to its core, the heritage that defines it and sets it apart.

That America preserved freedom with the example a free people sets for the world; that America preserved peace by showing a love of peace.

That America asserted its moral strength along with its military might.

And that, after years of division and turmoil, America made peace with itself and it lived up to its calling with the help of both political parties and every willing citizen.

That is the history I hope my daughters will read one day. I hope they will read that, in a broken time, we stood strong to advance the cause of peace.

Our commitment to that cause cannot be conveyed only at the barrel of a gun. It is conveyed in all the myriad ways a great and generous nation leads the world—in vigorous diplomacy, in strong institutions, and in the bright force of example.

It was the work of our parents; it will be work for our children—but now, it is our work. So let us begin, and let us not fear for our future. In the words of the poet, "'tis not too late to seek a newer world."

Thank you.

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