In the Arena

by Pete Hegseth

  Save for a momentary surge of patriotism following the Paris terror attacks, France is a textbook example of a great power that no longer lives in history. By virtue of its inability to heed the words of Teddy Roosevelt—to “work, fight and have plenty of children”—France is, at best, managing its steady decline. At worst it is headed for societal upheaval, violence, and eventual subjugation to Islamism. The power it currently maintains on the world stage is a vestige of earlier eras when it had the work ethic, civic pride, and military might necessary to grow and prosper. It remains the fifth-largest economy in the world today but will only drop lower by virtue of the simple fact that government outlays and obligations are gobbling up France’s economy faster than it can produce jobs and levy taxes. An inevitable result of economic decline is that France’s military power—despite recent reactionary increases in spending—continues to decline relative to other global powers. Meanwhile, below the surface, the entire demography of France is changing; in fifty years, an up-for-grabs Muslim population in France will be a powerful bloc, if not the most powerful. The trend lines are all heading in the wrong direction for France, and for that matter, are doing so across almost all of Europe.

  France today may still be a republic, but it is far from a “great republic.” Rather, it serves as a powerful and damning preview of what America will become if we don’t heed Roosevelt’s lessons. De Tocqueville once said of America, “America is great because she is good. If America ceases to be good, America will cease to be great.” What if America stopped producing good citizens? What would happen to our great republic?

  AMERICA FALLING?

  It’s important to remember that, beyond their respective revolutions, France and America are very different in origin and circumstance, with most differences playing decisively to America’s advantage. First and foremost, as mentioned earlier in the chapter, America was founded on a more durable set of revolutionary principles—ordered liberty, religious faith, and real free markets—that made its institutions (“laws not men!”) more elastic and enduring. But that founding difference is only just the beginning. Whereas France has a long and contested religious and political history that eventually included a free society, America—the land and later the country—was always a magnet for religious pluralists and freedom-seeking people. Whereas being “French” has traditionally been understood as an ethnicity, being “American” means subscribing to a set of principles—regardless of ethnicity or land of origin. Whereas France is without naturally occurring defenses, America’s geography is immensely fortuitous—buffered on both sides by massive oceans. Whereas historic enemies surround France, America is situated between two largely benign and friendly countries. Whereas modern France is limited in land and resources, America is blessed with an abundance of natural resources (most recently with America’s energy renaissance) that allow for nearly endless entrepreneurial, energy, and economic possibilities. Whereas France has repeatedly faced threats to its very existence, there is no immediate and existential territorial threat to America’s existence. Whereas, despite the egalitarian zeal of the revolution, issues of class and privilege have unavoidable historical relevance in France, America was founded largely on a rejection of patronage and the elevation of meritocracy.

  Of course these advantages were not inevitable, and certainly not without controversy. America’s revolution was the ultimate long shot, with a band of colonial misfits—many times on the verge of ruin—ultimately defeating the world’s most powerful empire. Moreover, just two decades later, that same British Empire—still powerful and with America still vulnerable—burned America’s capitol to the ground during America’s “Second War of Independence.” A great deal of blood was shed to ensure victory in both cases. Fifty years later, under President Abraham Lincoln, Americans would turn on each other, waging a civil war that cost three-quarters of a million lives and fully exposed—and finally confronted—the scourge of slavery. Even today, despite decades of progress, the legacy of American racism and injustice remains. Native Americans faced mistreatment and subjugation as the American territory expanded, an unfortunate casualty of frontier life. Each new wave of immigrants—no matter the skin color—was also greeted with difficult cultural transitions, yet the American melting pot has (thus far) integrated every race, gender, and creed. America’s oceans and shipping lanes have long been seen as a strategic advantage, but if we had not invested in a powerful Navy, they could have been easy avenues of approach for enemies and the sea-lanes for American goods left precariously dependent on Pacific and Atlantic trading partners. Finally, America today benefits from an international system that we—as the victors of World War II and crafters of the Bretton Woods monetary system—established and still dominate. Only winning the most vicious wars of the twentieth century brought about this geopolitical reality.

  Understanding and acknowledging her imperfections, America has been, and remains, a blessed country. From sea to shining sea, it has more than a million square miles of arable land (the most in the world), the world’s largest reserve of natural gas and energy resources, a healthy, diverse, and growing population of over 325 million, a stable form of government, and the world’s largest and most advanced economy and military. The combination of these factors—founded on a set of republican ideals in 1776—has enabled America to do more than any other country in human history to provide freedom, prosperity, and well-being to its citizens and the entire human race.

  From planes to Pepsi, televisions to telephones, lightbulbs to liberating continents, microwaves to machine guns, laptops to lunar landers, refrigerators to remote controls, independence to, of course, the Internet—the modern world is an American world. Our inventions, innovations, corporations, soldiers, and values permeate the world. But these developments were not inevitable, and not accidental. They were carefully incubated, cultivated, and protected. They are the result of painstaking republican politics, efficient, free, and sometimes ruthless markets, unyielding and decisive military power, and piercing cultural and moral clarity. The American way of life is truly exceptional, for all the right reasons.

  Without taking any of this for granted and fully appreciating America’s earned exceptionalism, it still feels like America is merely fifty years behind France and the rest of Europe—slowly bending (or slouching, as Robert Bork warned) toward the postmodern, socialist, and stagnant ways of the Old World. Whereas the French Republic is inarguably in the middle of Spengler’s long and cold season of winter, America’s republic—our Tree of Liberty—is at a seasonal pivot point. America’s fall colors—bright and beautiful leaves of orange, red, and brown—may have been on full display for the past few decades, but many believe our leaves are falling, that America’s inevitable and permanent winter is hastening. In fact, most Americans polled today believe America is in some stage of decline. Others, including myself, believe a renewed American spring is possible—for generations to come. America’s bold colors are exceptional, but permafrost is forming below the tree. Many of the complications and ailments that beset France, Europe, and other advanced countries are on the horizon for America.

  America’s decline starts with civic erosion and cultural seduction outlined in the next chapter, an erosion quickened by the presidency of Barack Obama but the result of a much deeper cultural crisis gripping America. Our education system is dominated by political correctness, mediocrity, self-esteem, and speech codes; America’s families are fractured, especially in vulnerable communities; and religion and morality have been replaced by relativism and “feelings.” When you lose that cultural battle—from higher education to religious tradition to civic patriotism to strong families to the virtue of work—even massive and in some cases former advantages like geography, economics, energy, governance, military, and demographics are not sufficient to sustain freedom and greatness. It’s all downhill from civic society, and the view at the bottom is not pretty. As Roosevelt said in his speech, echoing de Tocqueville’s observation about t
he centrality of American goodness, “The average citizen must be a good citizen if our [great] republics are to succeed.”

  Geographically, our frontier—our westward march and expansion—has long been a driver of the American ethos. Today America has a massive landmass but tenuous control over its own border. Illegal immigration, Islamic terrorists, and the illicit drug trade—which is only growing—threaten to undermine American sovereignty, identity, and security. Moreover, developments like high-speed transport, laser-guided long-range missiles, electromagnetic-pulse weapons, and the sheer power of cyberwarfare are rendering certain forms of geographic advantage obsolete. America’s Navy is now the smallest it’s been since World War II, calling into question our previously unquestioned maritime advantage.

  Economically, America may have the world’s largest economy, but it also has the world’s largest debt burden ($19 trillion)—a sum that is nearing the same size as the entire U.S. economy. Foreign countries now own more than 50 percent of our debt. Debt service and unfunded liabilities, especially when interest rates hover near zero, are a massive and looming fiscal crisis crying out for long-overdue budget reform and debt relief, both nowhere in sight. America’s economic growth potential is also limited by the world’s highest corporate tax rates, burdensome (and ideological) regulations, massive social welfare programs, and the failure of political reforms. America’s energy renaissance in the past decade—which has effectively made America energy independent—is a bright spot, breathing life and long-term vitality into the American economy. However, America’s energy boom happened in spite of government policies and regulations intended to limit energy exploration. The Left’s obsession with climate change regulation puts the future of America’s energy in great doubt.

  In terms of governance, FDR’s New Deal–era government programs, later expanded by LBJ’s Great Society, started a slow march toward a more expansive American welfare state. The federal government grows larger and larger each year (legislatively and through executive order), pulling more people and resources from the productive sector of the economy (private) to the unproductive sector (public). The sheer size and scope of the federal government hang like a wet blanket on America’s free enterprise system. The sprawling federal bureaucracy has become America’s “fourth branch of government,” to quote Mark Levin—free from oversight, unaccountable to the people, and centralizing power with bureaucrats and central planners. Making matters worse, larger government almost never means better outcomes—with the failing Department of Veterans Affairs being a signature example. Armed with 340,000 employees (twice the size of the Marine Corps!) and a $160 billion budget (second largest in government), the VA bureaucracy still cannot provide timely or quality care to America’s veterans. The same goes for almost every other federal agency.

  Militarily, we remain the world’s most powerful nation and the global order still hinges on our capabilities. But those capabilities are shrinking, and aging. Thanks to shortsighted policies like defense sequestration, America’s Army, Marine Corps, Navy, and Air Force have all seen steep and dangerous budget and personnel cuts. Moreover, due to antiquated personnel and acquisition processes, the bulk of Pentagon dollars go to the maintenance of aging weapons systems and facilities—instead of rapidly investing in next-generation technology needed to maintain America’s decisive edge. The concern is not only the weight of America’s power, but also a shrinking gap in technological capabilities with rival powers in an increasingly interconnected world.

  Roosevelt described the last factor—demographics—as “more important than ability to work, even more important than ability to fight.” He argued that a strong, young, and growing population is essential to the perpetuation, economy, and power of any nation, but especially a republic. Today, on the surface it appears the United States is generally in good shape demographically, with a fertility rate above two—meaning just over two kids are born to a woman over her lifetime. While the U.S. fertility rate has been declining since 2007, it is not yet upside down like much of Europe’s (meaning less than two). For now America is having “plenty of children” but America must be on guard against the silent stranglehold that Roosevelt aptly named “willful sterility.” Choosing to have smaller families—as Europe has done—is not just about fewer kids, but also demonstrates an “ease and self-indulgence, of shrinking from pain and effort and risk” that is a key indicator of a culture’s decline. A society that cannot maintain strong, healthy, and large families eventually shrinks into selfish irrelevance and risks being surpassed by stronger, younger, and healthier nations.

  America is not there yet, but preventing demographic decline is directly tied to preventing the decline of America. Like France, much of America’s demographic growth comes from immigrant populations—as has always been the case for America. America is a land of immigrants, and proudly so. The key ingredient to productive immigration for a country, but especially America, is assimilation. Whether it’s my family of Norwegian heritage, or a Hispanic family who immigrated legally, large families must be American families that are invested in our language, laws, and history of pluralism. Americans need to have more kids, and those coming to America for the first time need to raise American kids; they need to get into the American melting pot, not the tossed salad of “coexistence.” Muslims can still be Muslims, and Hispanics still Hispanics—just as Puritans were Puritans, and Catholics were Catholics—but, for the sake of our survival, their civic allegiance and identity need to be distinctly American. This fact ensures that no matter how America grows, we control our own destiny instead of our destiny being controlled by demographics.

  • • •

  Ten years ago, as a soldier in Iraq—deep in the heart of the Sunni Triangle—I found myself with a stomach full of Pizza Hut while getting a massage from a Pilipino lady. It was my first afternoon off in months, and we had driven to sprawling Camp Speicher, outside Tikrit, to stock up on supplies and take in a movie at the MWR (Morale, Welfare, and Recreation) center. After months of patrolling the contentious city of Samarra, it was a surreal day. As I noted in my journal that rare June day, “America really is an empire. Not a conquering empire, but an empire of freedom and opportunity. As we work to free the Iraqis and give them a better life, we import, supply, and pay professional massage artists to serve soldiers. Who else does this? While it may sound pretentious to outsiders, it is quite impressive.” Maybe it was pretentious, and surely excessive. But it was American power on full display.

  As of last year, the Islamic State controlled Camp Speicher. No Pizza Hut, no movie theater, no Iraqi allies, no massages (just sexual slavery), and definitely no freedom. What seemed so powerful to me—so immovable—no longer exists. Setting aside the merits of the Iraq War, which I will talk about later in this book, this scene, and this reality, is a powerful reminder. What was, will not always be. Power declines. Economies stagnate. Militaries lose. And, in the case of great powers, they are replaced. The French Empire two hundred years ago looked powerful and felt immutable, but today it no longer exists. In fact, contemporary France—thanks to self-inflicted wounds and battlefield losses—is no longer a great power at all. America, if we’re not careful—at home and abroad—could see the same fate, or worse. The path of decline for America is not inevitable, but it is certainly possible—and way too close for comfort.

  How then do we prevent that decline? Rejuvenating the American republic—ensuring it remains the free world’s linchpin—does not require charismatic politicians, conquering armies, or new government programs. We do not need, or seek, our own Napoleon. The solution is far more powerful, far more difficult, and was poignantly articulated by Teddy Roosevelt inside that Grand Amphitheatre at the Sorbonne in 1910. As outlined in the first chapter, the essential antidote for republic decline is the virtue of the individual citizen. “The success of republics like [America] means the glory, and our failure of despair, of mankind,” said Roosevelt, and “the average citizen must be a good citizen if
our republics are to succeed.” I’m no mathematician, but I do understand the transitive principle: if the fate of mankind is tied to the fate of republics and the fate of republics is tied to the average citizen, then the fate of mankind is tied to the average citizen of those republics. Meaning, the fate of freedom in the world today is tied—directly and literally—to the collective ability of individual American citizens to perpetuate their American experiment.

  The future of freedom in the world hangs in the balance . . . and we, America’s citizenry, are the solution.

  If we are not seduced first . . .

  THREE

  The Orator: The Left’s Cultural Seduction

  Unless oratory does represent genuine conviction based on good common sense and [is] able to be translated into efficient performance, then the better the oratory the greater the damage to the public it deceives. Indeed, it is a sign of marked political weakness in any commonwealth if the people tend to be carried away by mere oratory, if they tend to value words in and for themselves, as divorced from the deeds for which they are supposed to stand. The phrase-maker, the phrase-monger, the ready talker, however great his power, whose speech does not make for courage, sobriety, and right understanding, is simply a noxious element in the body politic, and it speaks ill for the public if he has influence over them. To admire the gift of oratory without regard to the moral quality behind the gift is to do wrong to the republic.

  —TEDDY ROOSEVELT, 1910

  Generations from now, we will be able to look back and tell our children that this was the moment when we began to provide care for the sick and good jobs to the jobless; this was the moment when the rise of the oceans began to slow and our planet began to heal. . . .