When General Douglas MacArthur argued in 1950 during the Korean War against skeptical military chiefs for his landing at Inchon, he declared: “I cannot believe that a great nation such as the United States cannot give me these few paltry reinforcements for which I ask.” MacArthur knew of America’s nearly inexhaustible resources that can be harnessed to nearly any great purpose, if there is the will.
The vast reduction if not virtual closure of U.S. foreign aid detracts from American greatness. The U.S. was spending just over 1 percent of the federal budget on foreign aid, or about one quarter of one percent of national wealth. Americans spend more on movies and videos annually. Is our entertainment more important than helping the hungry, homeless, sick, and dying ? One example of U.S. foreign aid is PEPFAR, started in 2003 by President George W. Bush to spare Africans from AIDS through treatment and prevention, estimated to have saved so far 25 million lives. It costs about $6 billion annually, or less than one tenth of one percent of the federal budget. Its future and scope are uncertain.
One study says U.S. aid prevents 3 million deaths annually, not to mention many more left to bad health, hunger, or other forms of suffering. The elimination or reduction of U.S. aid means thousands more will die, and almost certainly already are. Should Americans care about the preventable deaths of non-Americans? Does America owe help to other nations?
There are some on the political left who deem foreign aid a form of reparation for Western colonialism. But such colonialism generally ended decades ago. And for all its political injustice, European colonialism generally provided economic development. With few exceptions, the U.S. was rarely directly a colonial power. As a great power, especially during the Cold War, critics allege it behaved as a colonial power. True or not, the Cold War era is when the U.S. began to distribute significant foreign aid, partly to counter the Soviet Union, partly for humanitarian reasons, partly as the duty of a powerful nation with moral aspirations, and partly because a world that is stable and prospering suits American interests.
It can be argued that foreign aid to poor nations is not always helpful. Some poor nations become heavily dependent on Western aid, and their governments lose accountability to their people, instead looking to Western patrons. There are inevitably corruption and graft in the transmission of goods to poor societies, with governments and other intermediaries skimming their percentage. Some massive foreign projects are simply too ambitious or unsustainable. Foreign aid to post-WWII Western Europe through the Marshall Plan restored devastated economies, saved them from communist temptations, and ensured they would become democratic U.S. allies. The same is true for Japan and South Korea. There are other examples. U.S. aid to El Salvador in the 1980s helped stave off a communist insurgency and right-wing military authoritarianism. Massive aid to Indochina, backed by massive military involvement, failed to save it from communist domination. The same more recently was true for Afghanistan, whose people, in the end, were fine with Taliban rule. Iraq is more complicated, but its government survives.
Aid to the world’s most impoverished nations, in Africa, is often more about saving lives than building long-term political stability, although the two are not unrelated. Millions of deaths from AIDS certainly would have contributed to greater instability, as would millions more dead from malaria, tuberculosis, or many other causes. Of course, political stability is not the only motive. There is our basic humanity. America should intrinsically want to save and improve lives, where we can, because we aspire to decency, and because we are a nation shaped by the Gospel.
Most global humanitarian aid comes from Gospel-shaped nations, even if now secularized. Charity and generosity are for our cultures high virtues that define who we are, certainly for America. We who are Christian, or at least providentialists, believe the universe has a moral order, and that virtue, to which generosity and humanity are central, align with God’s purposes. And we believe God will, in some sense, bless those persons and communities that exemplify His generosity. Nations are not eternal, but they are in some sense under divine judgement. We seek His mercy by offering mercy to others.
In a more earthly sense, there are the identity and status of the United States. The soul and character of our nation affect us all, as citizens. Do we want a pusillanimous, cynical, self-focused nation indifferent to suffering in the world? Can America be great through callousness and moral indifference? Are we called to be superficially proud, before which goes a fall, or magnanimous and bountiful? Will we have virtue and nobility at home if we avert our eyes to the suffering abroad? The Gospel warns that “to whom much is given, much will be required.” How does America respond to that warning?
Foreign aid is little more than the crumbs fallen from our abundant national table. What does withholding it say about us?
Thoughtful foreign aid does not detract from America. If competently administered, it only adds to our national honor, majesty, and glory. It demonstrates that our Gospel-soaked nation is generous, decent, and wise, that we are temporally a city on the hill, not a black hole. Generosity is a pilaster in our American temple of national grandeur, reminding us of our Christian character. Let that temple glow with all the accumulated merits of our republic!
MacArthur could not believe that a “great nation such as the United States” could not give him “these few paltry reinforcements” for which he asked. Our historic levels of foreign aid are paltry but important. Are we sufficiently great to sustain them?
