Dalibor Rohac

Among America’s self-described foreign policy ‘realists,’ there is a common trope according to which the best way for the United States to get its allies to do more is to show them some tough love – particularly by doing less. That theory has just been put to a test in Afghanistan. It has failed spectacularly. Contrary to the caricature of the protracted conflict in Afghanistan as a distinctly American endeavour, both the combat operations and the efforts at reconstruction were supported by an extraordinarily diverse coalition of countries, from New Zealand, through much of Europe, to Turkey. Of some 150,000 British troops who served in Afghanistan during the past two decades, almost 500 were killed and 2,000 wounded.

President Biden’s emphatic assertion that 'America is back' at the Munich Security Conference last month was met with a lukewarm reaction from European leaders. 'Europe has moved', William Galston explained in a Wall Street Journal column pointing to a recent survey by the European Council on Foreign Relations that revealed a persistent distrust of the United States among Europeans and a resistance to taking the US side in America’s competition with China. Yet there is another side to the story. America is not really back. True, president Biden was quick to rejoin the Paris Climate Accord and to extend warm and fuzzy feelings toward our traditional allies.

The advocates of Brexit like to paint an optimistic picture of a post-EU Britain as an active, globally engaged power. 'Who has the parochial mindset here,' asks Dan Hannan, 'those who want a global role of the United Kingdom, or those who think that our role must be mediated by Federica Mogherini, the EU’s Foreign Minister?' Eurosceptics rarely outline the details of the UK that they have in mind. At most, they say that once the UK leaves, the British government could negotiate free-trade agreements with countries overseas – most notably those in the Commonwealth. But there is much more to international engagement than trade.

When Václav Havel first visited the United Kingdom as Czechoslovak President in March 1990, Margaret Thatcher hosted a dinner in his honour at 10 Downing Street. By then, Havel’s team, populated partly by chain-smoking dissidents, had been in active politics for only a couple of months. The Prime Minister did not hesitate to use the opportunity to coach the group of unlikely Czechoslovak leaders. 'She was very direct in giving us advice about economic transition, about what we should and should not be doing,' remembers Havel’s former press secretary, Michael Žantovský, who is currently serving as the Czech Ambassador in London.