“Is the Nobel speech an Obama doctrine?” George Stephanopoulos asked on ABC News’ This Week yesterday. Not from this president, and certainly not at Oslo.
Barack Obama explained his purpose at the beginning of his Nobel speech:
But perhaps the most profound issue surrounding my receipt of this prize is the fact that I am the Commander-in-Chief of a nation in the midst of two wars. One of these wars is winding down. The other is a conflict that America did not seek; one in which we are joined by 43 other countries — including Norway — in an effort to defend ourselves and all nations from further attacks.
The president spoke to justify his military actions to the Nobel Committee and to the world.
I thought it a great oration, perhaps his best, at once moral, philosophical, realistic and inspirational, calling upon the world to achieve the peace that the prize promotes. I’m surprised at the confusion that seems to have followed this clear and profound explication of his views.
The doctrine discussion tries to deal with the profundity and eloquence of the speech by attempting to classify it among the consequential foreign policy pronouncements of previous presidents: The Monroe Doctrine that notified European nations that the Western hemisphere was off limits; the Truman Doctrine that America would contain and repel Soviet advances in the Near East; the Eisenhower Doctrine that the U.S. would aid nations threatened with aggression; the Bush Doctrine of preventive war.
But Obama’s speech lacked such a concise and easily explainable statement of policy. A doctrine it is not. Rather it is the statement of Obama’s approach to world affairs, and it develops the methodical style we’ve already seen in Obama’s governance: Deliberative, reflective, nuanced, consensus-fostering, moderately liberal, moral, and practical.
He spoke of the standards for war, the use of sanctions, the need nuclear disarmament, the advancement of human rights, and many other important issues. But nothing illustrates the complexity of the speech more than his words about Martin Luther King and Mahatma Gandhi.
On the one hand he made clear his difference from them.
I am living testimony to the moral force of non-violence. I know there is nothing weak, nothing passive, nothing naive in the creed and lives of Gandhi and King. But as a head of state sworn to protect and defend my nation, I cannot be guided by their examples alone. I face the world as it is, and cannot stand idle in the face of threats to the American people. For make no mistake: Evil does exist in the world. A nonviolent movement could not have halted Hitler’s armies. Negotiations cannot convince al-Qaidas leaders to lay down their arms. To say that force is sometimes necessary is not a call to cynicism — it is a recognition of history, the imperfections of man and the limits of reason.
But on the other hand, he held high the hope that he and we would strive to follow in the direction of their words and examples:
The nonviolence practiced by men like Gandhi and King may not have been practical or possible in every circumstance, but the love that they preached — their faith in human progress — must always be the North Star that guides us on our journey.