Nation States as Schizophrenics : Germany and Japan as Post-Cold War Actors 9780313074455, 9780275968878

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Nation States as

Schizophrenics

Nation States as

Schizophrenics Germany and Japan as Post–Cold War Actors Roberta N. Haar

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Haar, Roberta N., 1966– Nation states as schizophrenics : Germany and Japan as post–Cold War actors / Roberta N. Haar. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 0–275–96887–1 (alk. paper) 1. Germany—Foreign relations—1990– 2. World politics—1989– 3. Japan— Foreign relations—1989– 4. Japan—Politics and government—1989– 5. Germany—Politics and government—1990– 6. Kosovo (Serbia)—History—Civil War, 1998—Participation, German. I. Title. DD290.3.H32 2001 327.43—dc21 00–061109 British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data is available. Copyright © 2001 by Roberta N. Haar All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, by any process or technique, without the express written consent of the publisher. Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 00–061109 ISBN: 0–275–96887–1 First published in 2001 Praeger Publishers, 88 Post Road West, Westport, CT 06881 An imprint of Greenwood Publishing Group, Inc. www.praeger.com Printed in the United States of America

The paper used in this book complies with the Permanent Paper Standard issued by the National Information Standards Organization (Z39.48–1984). 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Contents

Figures

vii

Acknowledgments

ix

Abbreviations

xi

Chapter One

Germany and Japan Doing the Unexpected

Chapter Two

Germany in the Gulf War

1 29

Chapter Three Germany in Somalia and Bosnia

67

Chapter Four

Japan in the Gulf War

91

Chapter Five

Commensurate or Not in Cambodia?

131

Chapter Six

Comparisons and Forecasts

145

Chapter Seven Addressing Old Worries

171

Chapter Eight Japan and Regional Worries

191

Bibliography

207

Index

211

Figures

1.1

The Environmental Model

10

1.2

The Modified Environmental Model for the Federal Republic of Germany and Japan concerning their willingness and choice to take on a foreign and security role commensurate with their economic power in the post–Cold War era

11

The Federal Republic of Germany’s foreign and security policy-making process during the Gulf War

57

The Federal Republic of Germany’s foreign and security policy-making process in Somalia and Bosnia

76

2.1 3.1 4.1 5.1

Japan’s foreign and security policy-making process during the Gulf War

121

Japan’s foreign and security policy-making process in the Cambodian case

135

Acknowledgments

I wish to thank all those who supported me in my perseverance to finish this book, especially my family, who kept up an encouraging flow of letters and e-mails. Special thanks to my husband, Simon Duke. I am also indebted to Drs. Robert Harkavy and Edward Keynes, who assisted me in numerous ways. I would also like to thank Dan Silverman, Stan Kochanek, Ming Wan, Erik Jones and Lisa Ploeg for their comments on earlier drafts. A special note of thanks goes to Merrill Oates who helped me with all the figures found in this work. Finally, I would like to thank Mildred Graham Vasan, who encouraged me to publish my work, and James Sabin and David Palmer at Greenwood Publishing, who assisted me along the path to publication.

Abbreviations

APEC ARF

Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation Council ASEAN Regional Forum

ASEAN AWACS CDU

Association of Southeast Asian Nations Airborne Warning and Control System Christian Democratic Union

CFE CFP CFSP 3 CI CIS CSCE CSU DSP EASI EC EMS EMU ERC ERM ESDI EU FCC

Conventional Armed Forces in Europe Treaty Comparative Foreign Policy Common Foreign and Security Policy Command, Control, Communication and Intelligence Commonwealth of Independent States Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe Christian Social Union Democratic Socialist Party East Asian Strategy Initiative European Community European Monetary System Economic and Monetary Union Electronic Combat Reconnaissance Exchange Rate Mechanism European Security and Defense Identity European Union Federal Constitutional Court

xii

Abbreviations

FDP

Free Democratic Party

FRG G-7

Federal Republic of Germany Group of Seven industrialized nations

GDP

Gross Domestic Product

GDR IAEA

German Democratic Republic International Atomic Energy Agency

IFOR

Implementation Force

IGC JCP

Intergovernmental Conference Japan Communist Party

JDA

Japanese Defense Agency

JNP JSP KFOR

Japan New Party Japan Socialist Party Kosovo Force

KVM LDP MAFF

Kosovo Verification Mission Liberal Democratic Party Ministry of Fisheries and Food

MFA MITI MoF

Ministry of Foreign Affairs Ministry of International Trade and Industry Ministry of Finance

NATO ODA OECD

North Atlantic Treaty Organization Official Development Assistance Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development

OOA OSCE PDD

Out of Area operations, in the NATO context Organization on Security and Cooperation in Europe Presidential Decision Directive

PDS PECC PKO PMO RMA SAARC SACEUR SAM SCAP SDF SDI SDP SEA SEATO

Party Democratic Socialism Pacific Economic Cooperation Conference Peacekeeping Operations Prime Minister’s Office Revolution in Military Affairs South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation Supreme Allied Commander Europe Surface to Air Missile Supreme Commander Allied Forces Self-Defense Forces Strategic Defense Initiative Social Democratic Party Single European Act Southeast Asia Treaty Organization

Abbreviations SPD

Social Democrat Party

TMD UN

Theatre Missile Defense United Nations

UNCLOS

UN Convention on the Law of the Sea

UNHCR UNITAF

UN High Commissioner for Refugees Unified Task Force

UNMIK

UN Interim Administration Mission in Kosovo

UNOSOM United Nations Operations in Somalia UNPROFOR UN Protection Force UNSC

United Nations Security Council

UNTAC WEU

United Nations Transitional Authority in Cambodia Western European Union

xiii

Chapter One

Germany and Japan Doing the Unexpected

Japan perplexes the world. It has become a major world power, yet it does not behave the way most of the world expects a world power to behave; sometimes it even gives the impression of not wanting to belong to the world at all. Karel van Wolferen1 The accepted truth is that the only thing predictable about Germany is its unpredictability. Germany consistently confounds us, rendering incontrovertible theories irrelevant on a regular basis. Andrei S. Markovits and Simon Reich2

The termination of the bipolar standoff at the end of the Cold War gave rise to the expectation that the Federal Republic of Germany (FRG) and Japan would increase their roles in the management of a secure international environment. The new roles would, moreover, be commensurate with their economic status. Likewise, scholars such as the realists John Mearsheimer and Kenneth Waltz asserted in the early 1990s that, given their importance in the world economic community, the Federal Republic and Japan would certainly begin to play greater and more self-interested regional and world roles.3 Such predictions were based on four factors. First, both nation-states reestablished full sovereignty, which they had surrendered when they accepted the renunciation of autonomous security policies in order to become members of strong security arrangements (the bilateral security treaty with the United States for Japan and NATO for the FRG). Second, realist prog-

2

Nation States as Schizophrenics

nostications were based on the emerging multipolar system. Certainly the immediate post-Cold War world was unbalanced and full of security challenges, not only because the Soviet Empire (one of the bipolar contenders) was in the throes of breaking apart but also because Germany was reunified. Third, Japanese and German political self-confidence had grown over the last forty years with the growth of their economic power. The FRG’s successes with Ostpolitik and Détente and Japan’s attempts at adopting an “autonomous security policy” in the 1970s are examples of this growing self-confidence. Within the European Community (EC) Germany also began “muscle-flexing” in the early 1990s. Among the various muscle-flexing measures were: a request to increase German representation in the European Parliament; a desire to make German an official EC language; the decision taken by the Bundesbank to further increase interest rates just after the signature of the Maastricht Treaty (without informing their EC partners), and; the demand to install the European bank in Frankfurt.4 Fourth, the German and Japanese militaries were among the strongest in the world at the Cold War’s end. Militarily, Japan’s capability had grown to the point where it was more powerful than the combined forces of the seven countries in ASEAN (the Association of Southeast Asian Nations) while in the Federal Republic’s case, the Bundeswehr was one of the best equipped and one of the largest armies in the NATO alliance.5 The Federal Republic and Japan also supported realist predictions by indicating in the immediate post-Cold War era that they wanted to promote regional frameworks (in which they would play larger roles) for their own security over transatlantic or United States-led structures. Additionally, Bonn and Tokyo stepped up their overtures for seats on the United Nations Security Council (UNSC). The FRG and Japan’s allies also began in the immediate post-Cold War period to demand that each not only contribute money to maintain regional and international stability but that they also assume leadership roles and, when necessary, contribute manpower as well. For example, in May 1989, U.S. President George Bush gave a speech in Mainz in which he called for West Germany and the United States to be “partners in leadership.” In June 1991, U.S. ambassador to Japan, Michael Armacost, advocated that Japan build a global partnership “which harnesses the power of our countries to the many purposes we share in the international arena.”6 Other examples of articulation of these expectations include several statements made by U.S. President Bill Clinton during his state visit to the Federal Republic in July 1994. In an interview with Süddeutsche Zeitung he said, “I do hope that we will have the benefit of the full range of Germany’s capacities to lead. . . . I do not see how Germany, the third biggest economic nation in the world, can escape a leadership role . . . [it] has no other choice but to assume a leadership role. Germany cannot withdraw from its responsibility.”7 Similarly, in a news conference in Bonn, Clinton said, “To

Germany and Japan

3

imagine any of these things [the integration of the former Warsaw Pact into Europe, building a new relationship with Russia and finding a settlement to the war in Bosnia] working out over the long run, the German-American partnership will have to be maintained and strengthened. . . . Anything that can be done to enable Germany to fulfill the leadership responsibility it is plainly capable of filling is a positive thing.”8 A number of senators and representatives in the U.S. Congress also began voicing the opinion that the FRG and Japan’s marked postwar preference for economic power over political (and military) might was an unrealistic orientation, even an unfair luxury in the post-Cold War era, especially given their immense regional economic strength. A precipitous U.S. economic downturn, anxiety over the American budget deficit, the huge trade deficit with Japan and general concerns about the long-term economic health of the United States in the early 1990s compounded American frustrations with its two rich allies. Despite the mid- to late1990s upsurge in American economic growth, U.S. Representatives Barney Frank, Christopher Shays, Richard Gephardt, Fred Upton, Ron Dellums, Bill Martini and Elizabeth Furse sponsored a “burden-sharing” amendment to the 1997 National Defense Authorization Act to increase American allies’ financial support for foreign U.S. military presence by $11.5 billion over six years. The amendment was approved by the House in May 1996 by a 353 to 62 margin. After the amendment passed, Barney Frank’s press release contended that “this year’s extraordinary support demonstrates the importance of requiring our wealthy allies to pay their fair share of common defense costs and ending the defense subsidy that American taxpayers give to wealthy nations of Western Europe and the Pacific.”9 This feeling of unfairness was partially founded on the fact that both the Federal Republic of Germany and Japan were able to develop their prosperous “civilian power”10 or “trading state”11 orientations precisely because of the post-WW II superpower standoff. Both were able to build up their economic strength after the Second World War largely because they were safe within security frameworks that not only provided them with highly affordable solutions for their defense problems but also gave them international respectability. Safe within their U.S.-led structures, Japan and the Federal Republic turned their energies toward economic development, building strong trade surpluses. The United States also provided access to open markets and a stable international economic environment that helped both to excel economically and to integrate their economies in the world. The ushering in of a new era, brought on by the disintegration of the Soviet Empire, was accompanied by new expectations that it was high time these two successful postwar economic wonders take up “responsible” regional and international roles.

4

Nation States as Schizophrenics

But the Federal Republic of Germany and Japan did not do what was expected of them by both theorists and their allies (and even themselves). Instead, they acted rather like schizophrenics, preferring to deny their own prodigious strengths and withdraw themselves from reality. Take one example, the Gulf War, which was really the first important event in the “new world order” in which the Germans and the Japanese could conceivably demonstrate their willingness to accept new roles that supported a stable international environment. Not only did Bonn refuse to send soldiers to help in the multinational military ground and air operations against Iraq, it delayed in supporting the allied coalition of twenty-nine countries that did send military personnel. Moreover, Bonn completely failed to make a clear enunciation of its policies toward the war in the Gulf. This was despite the fact that German access to oil was threatened by the invasion of Kuwait. As Elizabeth Pond contends, the Federal Republic’s actions in the Gulf War suggested that the FRG was not a country that had emerged from the Cold War stronger and more secure in its role as Europe’s premier power, but a country “that really wanted to be Greater Liechtenstein.”12 In Japan’s case, despite the fact that the Japanese obtained most of their oil from the Persian Gulf, the United States had to go to substantial lengths to convince Japan to contribute a meaningful amount of funding to the multinational force. Ambassador Armacost had to frankly convey to the Japanese government the ramifications that nonparticipation would have on future relations with the United States, especially if significant numbers of American, European and Arab men and women died, while Japan sacrificed only a relatively small amount of money. Eventually, Japan responded with more “checkbook diplomacy,” raising its initial financial contribution of $2.2 billion to the Gulf Cooperation Council and $2 billion in aid to Gulf countries to a total of $13.2 billion. After the Gulf War was won, SDF (Self-Defense Forces) minesweepers were sent to aid in the cleanup of mines in the Persian Gulf. However, for the most part, the mines were already gone. Not long after the Gulf War, Japan also initially refused to support American attempts to bring North Korea’s nuclear weapons program under verifiable restraint. This refusal was made in spite of the fact that it was Japanese intelligence that discovered that North Korea was very likely operating a noncivilian nuclear facility in early 1991.13 In 1993, Japan similarly declined to provide even minimal support to the United States in its efforts to counter North Korean threats after the Stalinist state fired a Nodong missile into the sea off the Japanese coast. Additionally, Japan refused America’s 1994 request for help in blockading North Korea, in spite of the fact that Japan was vulnerable to North Korean missile strikes.14 As Michael Yahuda observes, “The parochial Japanese approach [to North Korea] seemed totally disproportionate to the issue at hand.”15 Both countries’ attempts to provide regional initiative and leadership have been equally schizophrenic. For example, the FRG’s manner and tim-

Germany and Japan

5

ing of its recognition of Slovenia and Croatia not only undermined the European Union’s fragile progress toward building a Common Foreign and Security Policy (CFSP), they also cast doubt on the motives of a now reunited German people. Responses to Japan’s attempts to foster the emergence of a new “Pacific Century,” built on free trade and cooperation through organizations like ASEAN, have not been warmly received by other states in the Asia-Pacific. In one case, at the 1994 APEC (Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation Council) meeting in Jakarta, the Japanese delegation was ignored because it was viewed as being in America’s pocket. Michael Blaker relates that “[Prime Minister Tomiichi] Murayama’s presence was scarcely noticed, with Asian countries reportedly viewing Japan as following the American lead while giving little attention to their views.”16

APPROACHES TO FOREIGN POLICY ANALYSIS Why, given their strong postwar economies, the expectations of their allies, the predictions by realists and even their own desire to emerge as important political-military world players in the post-Cold War world—for example, by making strong bids for seats on the UN Security Council—did the Federal Republic of Germany and Japan withdraw from reality and behave unpredictably? In general, how can German and Japanese behavior be explained? In seeking to explain the making of foreign policy, scholars of foreign policy analysis normally direct their research toward the one level of the overall environment they believe to be the most potent source guiding the actions and interactions of nation-states. Most begin their focus on either the influences of the external setting (all those conditions outside the state as well as other countries’ policies that impact the policy makers’ and political leaders’ choices within a given nation-state) or the domestic (those conditions present inside the country that impact the policy options). Models are then generally constructed to simplify, organize and sort the multifarious processes that take place in the circumstances in question. The most prevalent approach used to explain foreign policy emerges out of the realist tradition. The paradigm, in both its classical realist and neorealist forms, focuses on the external milieu, basing foreign policy decision making on a traditional, geopolitical analysis of identifying the strategic goals of a state and then considering the alternative means available to that state for achieving those goals. The realist model assumes that “the external behavior of societies—foreign policy—is primarily a response to demands and circumstances located abroad.”17 States rival each other for position in the hierarchy of nation-states, whether that rivalry stems from the competition for power (realism) or from the nature of the ultimately anarchic system (neorealism). The actual leaders who make foreign policy, the types of governments they head, the characteristics of their societies,

6

Nation States as Schizophrenics

and the internal economic and political conditions of the states they lead are not significant to understanding and predicting nation-state policy because ultimately all states want the same things: namely, security and prestige on the international stage. These goals, realists argue, demand strategic calculations in the arena of “high politics” rather than in the domestic arena, because the international system greatly circumscribes the degree to which internal factors can be influential. Realists and neorealists also assume that states speak with one voice, pronouncing a single and definable foreign policy position. States also act objectively and without emotion to obtain their goals in a process of rational, power-maximizing decision making. Theoretically, this process of making foreign policy is described in the rational decision-making model.18 How useful is the realists’ paradigm in explaining (and predicting) post-Cold War Japanese and German foreign policy? During the Cold War the model’s validity was upheld by the structure of power in the international system. The bipolar system reflected the belief that the range of foreign policy options available to states is limited: nation-states in both the East and the West were not given many options, and the majority of nation-states were compelled to ally with either the United States-led alliance or the Soviet-led one. To add to the approach’s validity, during the Cold War both Japan and the Federal Republic of Germany traded off a certain amount of autonomy to be secure within the United States-led bloc. So long as the Soviet threat remained real, it made sense for Japan and the FRG to sustain a muted international posture. In the post-Cold War world, however, without the “Evil Empire” to grapple with, the foreign policy options open to both are less constrained. Thus, given their importance in the world economic community and given the fact that they possessed the military resources to follow through with a range of policy decisions, realists expected them to play larger, self-interested international roles. Freed from dependence on the United States, Tokyo and Bonn could in fact play a political and security-managing role commensurate with their world economic postures. However, in the first decade of the post-Cold War era neither country showed a desire to adhere to traditional realist thinking. Indeed, given their economic importance, the measures that they have taken are modest at best. The rational actor model does not explain this reserve. Delving into the more complicated approaches, which consider a variety of other imperatives and pressures (both international and domestic), creates both opportunities and conundrums for analysts. Most works on foreign policy analysis clearly recognize the rational unitary model of research as their starting point but break down into approaches looking at various aspects and influences of the foreign policy-making process after the merits and short-comings of the rational choice model are offered. In fact, there seems to be little consensus for what constitutes the major ap-

Germany and Japan

7

proaches in the field of foreign policy analysis. James Rosenau, as early as 1966, discussed the fact that foreign policy analysis was “devoid of general theory.”19 More recently, Charles Hermann and Gregory Peacock observed, “Our optimism about the future of Comparative Foreign Policy (CFP) rests more on our faith in the ability of scholars to build on [its serious attempts at theory building] than in the adequacy of any of the theories currently known to the CFP community. Hence, we too believe that ours is a theoretically undernourished discipline, but one with a tradition of persistent, if uneven and incomplete, theory building.”20 This dearth in theory building can be explained in part by the sheer intricacy of foreign policy analysis. Writing in the 1960s, Kenneth Thompson and Roy Macridis lamented, “When it comes to studying foreign policy in its various manifestations . . . the social scientist is . . . asked to explain and predict attitudes whose complexity makes a mockery of the few ‘scientific’ tools we have. . . . To attempt generalizations and construction of models that will give us a rigorous scientific understanding and prediction of foreign policy is a hopeless task.”21 Needless to say, other foreign policy scholars attempted to overcome this “hopeless task” despite the involution of the subject. A more recent book on foreign policy analysis identifies a “second generation” of researchers whose “perspective is actually a broad set of approaches bound together by a common focus on studying foreign policy and an acceptance of eclecticism in theory building.”22 This eclecticism uses both “quantitative and qualitative research techniques,” draws “heavily upon insights generated by comparativists and area specialists” and “rejects simple connections and considers contingent, complex interactions between foreign policy factors.”23 Most important however, second-generation foreign policy analysts eschew “the need to have a field organized around a central paradigmatic and methodological core,” and are thus free “to draw upon multiple literatures that speak to the central preoccupation: foreign policy theory and behavior.”24 This gradual opening of the field to more research techniques and to insights from sister fields as well as the dedication to examining the complex interactions between foreign policy factors resulted in further development of multilevel and multicausal explanatory frameworks. This should not suggest that only multilevel and multivariable explanations were further developed (indeed, mostly middle-range theories were expanded upon). However, for the purposes of this research, the multilevel frameworks—what one might call more holistic models, that can accommodate the multiple sources of foreign policy phenomena—are more useful. A more multilevel and multivariable framework could also help overcome what has been termed the “level of analysis problem,” which centers on the difficulty of identifying the location (i.e., the level) in which sources of explanation for observed phenomena can be found.25 The real quandary

8

Nation States as Schizophrenics

of the “level of analysis problem” emerges, as Barry Buzan observes, because “in the social universe, events often have more than one cause, and causes can be found in more than one type of location.”26 As will be argued, the causes of the Federal Republic and Japan’s post-Cold War foreign policy and behavior can be found in more than one level and thus the causes are not easily analyzed via the single-level analysis found in many “middle-range” theories. Middle-range frameworks offer “explanations of particular, limited phenomena rather than explanations that encompass the entire universe being studied.”27 In some respects, the fact that none of the middle-range models work is a pity. As James Rosenau points out, “It would render the analysis of world politics much more manageable if it could be demonstrated that the foreign policies of most national societies stem primarily from either internal or external factors.”28 A model that considers multiple actors at multiple levels and that grapples with the intricacies of the link between domestic and international factors in foreign policy analysis is by nature more cumbersome and messier. As a consequence, such approaches are still underdeveloped. In her examination of the evolution of the study of foreign policy, Deborah Gerner observes, “Coping with the difficulty of constructing dynamic explanations has been a central problem of many foreign policy studies.”29 Further complicating the use of a more multilevel model is the fact that, as Buzan points out, “it is not at all clear what the rules are for designating something as a level” that might be used to construct a useful model.30 Nor is there any agreement on how many levels a constructive paradigm might have. Kenneth Waltz, in his 1950 seminal work in the general field of international relations, developed three levels or “images”: the international system, the state and the individual. Scholars interested in constructing a general theory of foreign policy analysis subdivided Waltz’s levels, inserting, for example, a bureaucratic level between individual and unit.31 In the mid-1960s, Rosenau introduced what he called a “pretheory” of comparative foreign policy analysis, consisting of five levels of study that he later refined to six.32 The six levels that Rosenau delineated are: (i) the world system; (ii) the relations between nation-states and other international actors; (iii) the society that decision makers govern and within which they live; (iv) the structure of the government within which decision makers make policy; (v) the roles occupied by the decision makers; and, (vi) the individual decision makers themselves and their important characteristics. Although Rosenau’s “pretheory” was designed to be “a typology for organizing research on foreign policy rather than a fully specified model,” since the 1960s his “pretheory” has been the foundation of much scholarship within the field of foreign policy analysis, being especially important to those scholars attempting to work with broad, multilevel frameworks.33 Building on Rosenau’s ideas, in 1987 Maria Papadakis and Harvey Starr developed a multilevel framework called the environmental model,

Germany and Japan

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which is schematically represented in figure 1.1. Papadakis and Starr argue that although Rosenau and others, such as Harold and Margaret Sprout in their concept of milieu, did much to elucidate the importance of considering the entire environmental circumstances of a nation-state, foreign policy phenomena had yet to be “rendered as comparable as they need to be for a systematic application of scientific inquiry.”34 Their framework attempts to combat this failing by “allowing for a more systematic and explicit conceptualization of foreign policy as a dependent variable.”35 The division of the environment into six levels further makes the analysis more manageable from a empirical perspective, because it allows one to theorize about the impact of different levels of the environment on the making of foreign policy. Their definition of a foreign policy environment “includes all phenomena to which the environed unit’s activities may be related, including the psychological or perceptual environment” that defines the context within which decision makers may act. But how decision makers act will depend upon the set of opportunities (the possibilities and constraints that decision makers face) the environment provides and the decision makers’ willingness (the motivations that lead decision makers to avail themselves of opportunities) to take a particular course of action (based, in part, on evaluations of previous behavior).36 Thus, according to Starr, The willingness of the decision maker to make certain choices is constrained by her or his own nature (the individual level), as well as by the decision maker’s place in the governmental structure (role); the nature and form of the government within which the decision maker operates; the resources, makeup, and politics of the society that houses the decision maker and the government; the web of influence relations that the decision maker’s state has with other world actors; and the structure of the world system. Each level affects the opportunities available to decision makers; each level affects the images decision makers hold and how they make choices.37

“The various levels of analysis,” Starr continues, “are . . . linked by thinking of a decision maker as an entity who must behave within the very complex environment that surrounds him or her. Each level of analysis describes one of the environments within which the decision maker must operate.”38 Papadakis and Starr apply their environmental model to explain the foreign policy of small states, ultimately finding that a small state’s foreign policy derives from both its capacity to act and its willingness to avail itself of the opportunities set before it. Using Papadakis and Starr’s previous application as a starting point, an analysis of the various levels of the German and Japanese post-Cold War foreign policy decision-making environment is made here in order to explain their schizophrenic behavior. To make the research more manageable, a number of relevant case studies will be used. The cases are five

Figure 1.1 The Environmental Model

10

Figure 1.2 The Modified Environmental Model for the Federal Republic of Germany and Japan concerning their willingness and choice to take on a foreign and security role commensurate with their economic power in the post–Cold War era.

11

12

Nation States as Schizophrenics

global events in which the Federal Republic of Germany and Japan were asked to participate in multinational military task forces with the mission of restoring international peace and stability. The five events are further relevant because the debates (both international and domestic) surrounding them were divisive and extensive. A modified version of the model for Germany and Japan’s post-Cold War foreign policy decision-making environment is shown in Figure 1.2. The model will be used in each case study in the following process: first, each of the six levels will be considered in order to identify the important decision-making stimuli; second, the dynamics of interplay and interaction between the important decision units in relation to one another will be examined, and; third, the important decision-making stimuli will be evaluated, and conclusions will be made about the combination of stimuli and the behavior the various combinations produce. The seven remaining chapters focus on the following aspects of this research. Chapters 2 through 5 apply the environmental model to explain post-Cold War German and Japanese schizophrenic behavior. Specifically, chapter 2 considers the foreign policy environment pertaining to Germany’s participation—or nonparticipation, as is the case—in the Gulf War (August 1990 to February 1991), while chapter 3 combines the studies of Germany’s policy-making environment in the Somalian (mid-1992 to March 1994) and Bosnian (June 1991 to December 1995) crisis events. The latter two cases are examined together because much of the debate surrounding Germany’s role in both occurred at the same time and thus overlaps. Chapters 4 and 5 examine, respectively, Japan’s involvement in the Gulf War and the United Nations’ mission in Cambodia (SDF troops being involved in Cambodia from September 1992 to September 1993). Chapter 6 broadens the analysis by comparing German and Japanese policy-making environments and behavior in the four cases. This comparison will further underline the environmental (both external and domestic) traits that Germany and Japan shared in the immediate post-Cold War era. Chapter 6 also makes some “forecasts” about future German and Japanese behavior. Chapters 7 and 8 consider the normative questions of whether Germany and Japan should assume political and security roles more commensurate with their economic roles, in light of concerns surrounding the two nation-states’ propensity toward militarism.

CONSIDERING THE “UNIQUENESS” ARGUMENT Before applying the Papadakis and Starr environmental model to explain German and Japanese post-Cold War external policy, the general applicability of any foreign policy analysis model to the German and Japanese cases should be considered. Why should anyone attempt to understand what produces or motivates German and Japanese foreign policy

Germany and Japan

13

in the postwar era when all too often both countries are treated as “special,” “unique” or “abnormal” cases and, as such, largely fall outside the potential capability of present foreign policy models? Two responses to such a question may be put forth. First, the habit of seeing both countries, at least in foreign and security terms, as “special” cases is one that breeds a certain intellectual laziness since it does not grapple with the underlying issue of what makes a state special in the first place and, to address the flip side, when does a country stop being special? The notion that states are selected to be different because of a certain set of circumstances is compelling in the historical context, but for how long? When does an anomaly become normal? Is, for instance, Austria any more or less “normal” than Germany? Does the historical defeat of a power necessarily make more contemporary versions of the same state anomalies today? Does the very notion of historical anomaly imply something that is never going to be normal? Perhaps the truth is that most states, if not all, oscillate between a number of categories and thus none are truly unique or completely normal. Furthermore, while the argument that the Federal Republic of Germany and Japan were extreme cases or historical anomalies holds some credence in the Cold War context it is not so persuasive in the post-Cold War international system. The neat bifurcation of the international system into two heavily armed camps served not only to define the roles of the Federal Republic of Germany and Japan, but much of their inability or reluctance to behave as normal states also stemmed directly from their postwar settlements. The status of “historical anomaly” was therefore woven into the tapestry of the Cold War and, as long as it lasted, Japan and the FRG could not be portrayed as normal actors in the foreign and security policy sense. The immense changes wrought by the end of the Cold War would thus seem a fitting basis for ascertaining the extent to which either state is in fact “special.” Second, the very idea that considerable intellectual energy and endeavor should be aimed at understanding the behavior of states that fit into some precepts of normalcy seems to be misplaced. Surely more endeavor should be directed at understanding those states whose history, culture and national psyche make them problem or “abnormal” cases. Simply to dismiss them as somehow “awkward” seems to turn away from a challenge. Might not the very idea of abnormal states imply a lack of imagination and a certain lack of adventurousness and enquiry? The Cold War provided a convenient excuse for this lack of enquiry. In the post-Cold War era, a time when a wider debate about many of the fundamentals in foreign and security studies has opened up, Germany and Japan not only merit further examination precisely because they have been portrayed as special cases, but because their special status poses a particular set of intellectual challenges. Comparative approaches to the study of Japan and Germany can no longer afford to ignore the important (and potentially more

14

Nation States as Schizophrenics

important) role played by both countries as regional and international actors. The incorporation of non-military aspects into security, alongside the post-Cold War emphasis on peacekeeping, has further served to underline the importance of both countries since their military assets, their geopolitical importance and their economic sway make them highly influential global actors. Indeed, it is the perceived need to spread the burdens of post-Cold War peace-support operations that has directly led to the desire to reduce the unique stigma of Japan and Germany in the security context. In general, the dramatic changes heralded by the end of the Cold War have created two dilemmas for foreign and security policy analysts. First, changes have altered the nature of security and indeed the international system that may undermine or even negate the status of Germany and Japan as historical anomalies. Second, post-Cold War changes have posed the more general question of the utility of various models used for the comparative analysis of foreign policy, most of which were developed with the Cold War in mind. The lack of appropriate analogies, with the possible exception of Weimar Germany, compounds the problem. A more helpful approach, which is pursued here, would be to examine the extent to which existing comparative analysis models provide assistance in the German and Japanese cases and then select and/or further develop a model that is able to accommodate all of their so-called abnormalities.

MEASURING “COMMENSURATE” As an added point of consideration, the idea of “commensurate” should be discussed. Is the notion of Japan and the FRG assuming commensurate political and security roles, compared to their economic might, one that lends itself to any accurate measurement? Or, perhaps, is the concept of commensurate more a feeling, even an expressed opinion, based on subjective criteria, such as whether the “human costs” and risks of any given country are unfairly born in relation to its economic strength and the security it receives within the context of alliance structures? Intuition suggests that there should be a positive association between defense burdens in an alliance and size and strength of economies as well as security provided from the alliance. Arguing, however, for a proportional distribution of defense burdens based on the size of a state’s economy rests upon the questionable assumption that all parties benefit from the security arrangement equally which, in economic terms, would be akin to a public good characterized by non-exclusion and non-rivalry. The use of a public goods model on the calculation of alliance defense burdens is most often associated with Mancur Olson and Richard Zeckhauser, who suggested that there should be a correlation between the size of the economy and the percentage of GDP (Gross Domestic Product) devoted to defense, since the “larger a na-

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tion is, the higher its valuation of the output of an alliance.”39 Olson and Zeckhauser in their pioneering 1966 article recognized, however, that security is not a public good, since it is not just security that is provided for by alliances, other intangibles, such as deterrence, are also supplied. Since security is not a public good, it follows that the larger the nation (those that place a higher absolute value on the public good), the more disproportionate its share of the total military cost. The application of Olson and Zeckhauser’s theory also established that there is a direct correlation between economic size and contributions to an alliance. Those states that do not meet this proportional criteria (however calculated) are labeled “free riders” that benefit unfairly from the overall good of the alliance. Olson and Zeckhauser suggested that such nations will “free ride” for as long as they can, as it is in their interests. Their theory, based on public goods/collective action, has since been applied and confirmed by others in the context of the Cold War.40 Despite the fact that Olson and Zeckhauser’s model was successfully challenged by later researchers like Todd Sandler, James Murdoch and John Forbes, it remains influential and relevant to the German and Japanese cases. This is because it has created the psychological expectation that there should be an equitable share of burdens and, alongside this idea, the suspicion that some states are still “free riders.”41 For better or worse, Olson and Zeckhauser’s work caught the mood of the U.S. Congress during the lead-up to the Mansfield Debates (the most heated debates on NATO burden sharing), resulting in the expectation that the size of the economy should somehow be related to relative defense burdens. This expectation has not diminished over the years despite Sandler and Murdoch’s work, which suggested that the correlation between size of the economy and defense outlays did not necessarily correspond. Indeed, their “joint product model” appears more applicable to the post-Cold War security environment than Olson and Zeckhauser’s pre-flexible response theory, and as such the idea of “commensurate” burdens based on the size of an economy can be challenged. However, since there are still strong political expectations that there is indeed a relation between economic size and defense outlays, Olson and Zeckhauser’s model cannot be dismissed. Moreover, in the post-Cold War era the burden-sharing debates have turned into burden-shedding exercises, where the objective is to maximize international peace and security by shifting the burdens of collective defense to security partners.42 In particular, the end of the Cold War created substantial domestic pressure in the United States for a major retrenchment of its forward deployed military forces. Those shedding the burdens of the Cold War naturally look to those who have (subjectively) benefited the most from previous “light costs” to assume more of the burdens of post-Cold War security. The Federal Republic of Germany and Japan are at the head of the list of those who

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are perceived to have benefited much but sacrificed little for their Cold War security. As Philip Gordon, a specialist on both France and Germany, argues: Germans in particular must begin to realize that they should share a large part of the post-Cold War security burdens precisely because Germany benefited so greatly but was largely spared the responsibility for maintaining international security during the Cold War. Gordon writes, It was much easier, after all, for Germany to be “responsible” during the Cold War, when others—notably the United States—were willing to do most of the “dirty work” of international security. The United States at times supported unsavory dictators, intervened in the Third World, and installed missiles in Europe not because it was inherently evil but because, rightly or wrongly, it sometimes felt doing so was necessary in order to preserve and defend the Western community, of which West Germany was an important part. American foreign policy actions during the Cold War may often have been unnecessary or excessive, but that is a judgment easier to make from a country, like West Germany, that was spared from bearing responsibility for security around the world.43

The end of the superpower standoff (and the uncertainties associated with it) as well as the loss of the old hegemonic order thus demanded that those nation-states that emerged economically and militarily strong from the Cold War begin to assume new global responsibilities. The apparent decline in American hegemony further shifted new elements of responsibility to both Germany and Japan in the immediate post-Cold War world. Whether or not the declinist view of American might prevailed (which it has not), it is true that the United States became markedly less willing to devote time, money and energy to confronting problems in the regions of two of the world’s most competitive trading states and less willing to allow them to continue to concentrate solely on their economies. Washington’s decision in April 1990 to draw down its forces in East Asia (with the East Asian Strategy Initiative, EASI), which led to a substantial reduction in forces throughout its Pacific command, is a manifestation of this unwillingness to bear the primary costs of security in Japan’s region. There were similar reductions in the European commands, where just over 200,000 American troops were withdrawn, mainly from Germany. More recently, U.S. President Bill Clinton’s National Security Adviser Anthony Lake enunciated an “enlargement” strategy in which America would push for democracy the world over, but pointedly, it would also require more effort from its allies.44 Calculating new (i.e., fair) global responsibilities is, however, a difficult task. Does a comparative benchmark of some sort exist by which relative “burdens” may be calculated? More often than not the percentage of GDP spent on defense sufficed as a rough and ready (and highly political) guide. As a measure though, it is notoriously inaccurate,45 since it neglects a number of critical variables such as: What is the definition of “defense ex-

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penditure” being used? Does it, for instance, include or exclude paramilitary or defense forces or expenditure that might have dual civil-military applications? What is included or excluded in the reporting of defense expenditure and what might be double-counted? Have fluctuations in GDP significantly altered the defense expenditure figures? Are there any significant defense-related research and development projects included as defense expenditure, which may already have yielded significant income (i.e., contracts) elsewhere? Despite the fact that using GDP as a means to measure defense burdens has been shown to be inaccurate, comparisons of the percentage of GDP spent on defense are routinely used to emphasize unfair burdens. For example, U.S. Representative Barney Frank, who has consistently introduced “burden-sharing” amendments to the U.S. Congress, argues that U.S. defense burden imbalances are underscored by the fact that “as a percentage of Gross Domestic Product . . . the U.S. spends more than our Asian allies on defense spending.”46 More specific problems pertaining to Germany include the fact that defense expenditure figures may be significantly skewed by unification. While in the Japanese case, specific hindrances to calculating relative defense burdens relate to the reporting of the “standard 1 percent,” which encourages creative accountancy and the “hiding” of defense-related expenditure elsewhere. Expressing worldwide military expenditures in local currency is one way to get around some of the inaccuracies inherent in calculating the percentage of GDP spent on defense, as it can account for growth or contraction in an economy, thus giving indication of significant alterations even if defense expenditures remain the same.47 Defense spending expressed in a constant price (usually dollars) allows for comparison between national defense expenditure over a period of time, but such figures are nevertheless subject to exchange rate fluctuations and inflation. Additionally, the choice of a “constant” year may also introduce some significant but unintended distortions.48 Perhaps the most accurate method of assessing relative burdens is the use of purchasing power parities (PPP), which offers a means of assessing the cost of purchasing the same “basket” of goods in a number of countries, expressed in local or base currencies. The accuracy of these results are, however, highly dependent upon what commodities are chosen for the “comparative basket,” whether they be goods or services. Just as relative prices vary between one country and another, depending upon the goods or services to be consumed, so does the manner in which budgets and revenues are used. There exists, at least in theory, an almost indefinite number of PPP indices comparing these various factors. Because of these failings, and despite the Congressional Budget Office’s preference for using PPP, the U.S. Department of Defense has resisted employing it as a measure for comparative defense expenditures. Thus, the absence of comprehensive data, not to mention the complexity of reaching PPP figures,

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has ensured that measures of “commensurate” burdens remain highly political. As a result, from an empirical standpoint, one may reach an unsatisfactory conclusion: the term commensurate is a somewhat vague expectation that Germany and Japan should do more based upon equally unscientific evidence that they have not, in the past, done enough (or even that they did too much, but of the wrong things, which now must be made right). Therefore, the idea that Germany and Japan should assume commensurate political-military roles in the post-Cold War world, compared to their economic roles, is essentially a subjective political concept and one that eludes an accurate assessment. However, as one final point, the idea of commensurate includes the idea of assuming more burdens of leadership and initiative, often termed “responsibility sharing.” In the past these burdens have been largely assumed by the United States. In the post-Cold War world, however, the United States’ willingness to fill this role has decreased. U.S. President Clinton’s Presidential Decision Directive (PDD) 25 is a manifestation of the United States’ desire to shoulder less of the leadership and initiative burdens of the post-Cold War world.49 This change in U.S. willingness, alongside changes in the post-Cold War security environment, have together led to demands for a greater “responsibility” role from Germany and Japan. Paul Stares and Nicolas Regaud further point out, “Should the perception grow . . . that Europe is essentially ‘free-riding’ on Washington’s willingness to bear the burdens of [being Europe and Asia’s ‘security manager’ and defender] the U.S. commitment could begin to wither under the assault of neoisolationist sentiments within the country . . . only by doing more can Europe hope to prevent or moderate what might otherwise be unwelcome unilateralist tendencies on the part of the United States.”50 In a similar argument, Andrei Markovits and Simon Reich write, “Power ignored is not power dissolved; it is power used irresponsibly. Germany cannot, must not seek to expand its power. But it must recognize and harness its power if the ‘good guys’ are to work to good effect. . . . The contemporary German ideology of smallness is deeply selfish, for it is oblivious to the costs and benefits for others.”51 The same argument could be made with regards to Japan. At the very least, a protracted underestimation of their respective prodigious powers makes their ardent requests for seats on the UN Security Council look increasingly irksome.

WHY GERMANY, WHY JAPAN, WHY NOW? The end of the Cold War, the disappearance of opposing military blocs and the unification of Germany continue to pose fundamentally new challenges to the understanding of the international system. Central to these challenges is the issue concerning the extent of German and Japanese commitments within their respective regions and to the maintenance of inter-

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national peace and stability overall. More specifically, it is important to know today whether two of the world’s acknowledged economic superpowers (ranking second and third as the world’s largest economies) will play a significant stabilizing role both within their regions and beyond. And if they choose not to, what are the reasons for it, and what can be done to convince them that their political leadership and military might are needed for world stability. In 1993, Jeffrey Garten’s widely read book A Cold Peace argued that the most important framework for determining the shape of the world in the next century was the relationship between the United States, Japan and Germany. Garten elucidated the immense interest in finding out how a Germany and a Japan free of World War II constraints would possibly affect America and the world. He maintained that in light of the United States’ preponderance of effort in attempting to solve current (early 1990s) crises around the globe, “It was only a matter of time before the same questions that arose during the Gulf War in 1991 were raised: Why aren’t Japan and Germany carrying more of the load, not just writing checks but by sending troops exposed to physical risk?”52 Although he acknowledged that they were moving further in the direction of participating in international peacekeeping operations, “given their importance in the world community, these measures were extremely modest.”53 In this context, the reformulation of a German out-of-area policy (within the NATO framework) and a Japanese external defense policy are important indicators of a more general redefinition of their regional and international roles. Indeed, the willingness to send soldiers overseas to participate in multinational peacekeeping missions can be viewed as a significant manifestation of both states’ willingness to take on a greater share of the burdens associated with regional and international stability, as well as part of a wider redefinition of their power and status in the post-Cold War international system. For example, their respective policies toward overseas multilateral troop deployment are important factors to consider concerning their bids for a permanent seat on the United Nations Security Council. In order for Germany and Japan to become members of this club they must demonstrate that they are not just economic giants but military and political ones as well. The increased number of failing or disintegrating states in the present era adds an impelling factor to the question concerning the Federal Republic and Japan’s apparent inability to meet their post-Cold War expectations. The end of the bipolar standoff, with its more predictable security environment, has permitted old rivalries to reignite. Crises in Indonesia, the former Yugoslavia, Albania, Rwanda, Somalia and possibly other sub-Saharan African states, have meant that the number of places that international peacekeeping forces are now on duty (and could be on duty) is at an all-time high.54 Demand clearly outstrips the assets available to the United Nations in its traditional peacekeeping role. As a result, the UN has

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increasingly turned to regional organizations, for example NATO or the ARF (ASEAN Regional Forum), and to regional leaders to mediate or intervene in conflicts. One must also keep in mind that nuclear weapons still exist in unstable regions in the world (some unstable regions having acquired the nuclear capability as recently as May 1998); that the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction has not yet halted; that terrorism is still evident in world trouble spots, and; that conventional military and paramilitary forces still play a role in the destruction of peoples’ lives and social systems around the globe. Military power is not a concept of diminished practical importance in today’s world. For Germany and Japan there are also incentives closer to home for them to increase their part in the management of secure environments. The Asia-Pacific region at large must deal with China’s aggressive acts, which include the 1995 and 1998 Spratly Islands provocations, the equally provocative March 1996 missile tests close to Taiwan and the reopening, in September 1996, of a sovereignty dispute with Japan over a small set of islands know as Senkaku by the Japanese and Diaoyu by the Chinese. Since 1979, China’s economy has roughly doubled every seven and a half years. Although the World Bank’s predictions that China’s economy would become the world’s largest by 2020 are questionable (in part, because of the knock-on effects of the 1997 Asian financial crisis), China did avoid the worst of the financial straits and remains an economic power-house in the region.55 The possibility that China’s increasing economic clout could translate into substantial political and military might within the Asia-Pacific continues to be a real scenario, and thus, so is the prospect that China will continue to provoke. Richard Bernstein and Ross Munro in their critically acclaimed book The Coming Conflict with China, argue that “there seems little question that China over the next decade or two will be ascendant on its side of the Pacific.”56 Paul Dibb makes a similar argument, writing that “no contemporary issue is more important than the rise of China.”57 Additionally, China is a nuclear power, is a large producer of armaments and has the world’s largest standing army (with nearly 3 million). In fact, within the region, China is the largest arms supplier.58 Moreover, China’s 300 nuclear warheads could easily reach Japan. Reports also speculate that since 1989, China’s military budget has increased by more than 140 percent.59 In particular, China is attempting to upgrade its navy and its air force. Russia is aiding China in these endeavors by supplying discounted but technologically superior warships and fighters.60 Furthermore, in Japan’s case in particular, China continues to hold historical grievances against it for land seizures and various policies dictated by imperialist Japan before and during the Second World War (see chapter 8 for further analysis on this topic). Another factor of instability in the Asia-Pacific region is the sheer number of territorial disputes (there are twenty-two such quarrels) enjoying re-

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newed interest in the post-Cold War era.61 Some of the squabbles, over small islands and reefs as well as over fishing rights and energy resources in the seas between Japan and its neighbors, have already resulted in serious saber rattling. During the Cold War the seas “were a virtual ‘no-man’s land,’ where differences were usually either ignored or elevated to international incidents.”62 But in the post-Cold War era, with the potential to obtain petroleum and gas reserves as well as gain possession of strategic bases for sea-lane defense and surveillance, the states surrounding these seas are declaring 200-nautical-mile “Exclusive Economic Zones” (as allowable by the 1982 UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, UNCLOS) resulting in many areas being claimed by two or more countries. Perhaps more worrying, the rise in territorial claims has been accompanied by an expansion in the region’s trade in armaments. East Asia, in particular, is not only the fastest growing arms market in the world (vying for this title with the Middle East)63 but its rapid rate of defense industrialization has resulted in “an increasing sophistication of the region’s military output, which includes products such as fighter aircraft, tanks, armored personnel carriers, missiles and naval craft.”64 Even the 1997–1998 Asian financial crisis did not decrease military outlays in the region.65 Other challenges that Japan must take into consideration are: the possible economic destabilization and the refugee exodus that a collapse of North Korea would bring; the suspected secret possession of stockpiles of chemical and biological weapons or the possible secret development of nuclear weapons by North Korea; instability in the Philippines and Indonesia; the fragile durability of the Cambodian peace settlement, and; the prospect that India and Pakistan’s territorial dispute over Kashmir goes nuclear. With regard to North Korea, Stephen Combone argues that its “ballistic-missile programme continues unabated, despite the country’s failing economy.”66 Recent estimates by the Institute for Strategic Studies in London concur: the North Korean military, the world’s fifth largest, gets $5.4 billion a year out of the country’s budget.67 Similarly, the Center for Nonproliferation Studies labels North Korea as the world’s “Number One Proliferator” because of its flagrant export of missiles and missile production technologies to countries such as Iran, Syria and Pakistan.68 Russia is still an important well-armed unknown factor in the region as well. The absence of any significant rapprochement between Russia and Japan in the aftermath of the breakup of the Soviet Union, the ongoing dispute between Russia and Japan over the four southern islands in the Kurile chain, and the 1997 Sino-Russian “strategic partnership” all contribute to an uneasy relationship between the two. In Germany’s case, there is no monolithic aggressive state highlighting the undiminished importance of military power in the region as China does for Japan’s neighborhood. On the other hand, the disintegration of previous political structures in Europe has meant a significant decline in

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regional political stability.69 Russia in particular remains a politically and economically unstable entity in the region. Although the Communists, led by Gennady Zyuganov, appear unlikely to win the Russian presidency in the near future, if the economy does not improve, dramatic political change is not impossible. What happens to Russia’s extensive nuclear arsenal if the Communists were somehow to come back into power? What would a professed non-democrat like Alexander Lebed do with Russia’s nuclear arsenal, not to mention a nationalist like Vladimir Zhirinovsky? The new president, Vladimir Putin, is a virtually unknown former KGB official who has won his current status through waging a heavy-handed war with Chechnya. Russia is a potential destabilizing influence precisely because of its political and economic fluidity and its criminality. If one discounts the dangers of unstable democratic institutions and of “loose nukes” were Russia to fall into a nationalistic fervor or into political chaos, one must still consider the fact that present command and control over the arsenals of the former Soviet Union are in decay and disarray (not to mention the fact that its vast army is in a ramshackle state and unable to decisively defeat Chechen guerrillas). Russia is likely to remain a source of instability on the Eurasian continent for some time to come. Other East and Central European countries give cause for concern. Democratic institutions are shaky and human rights abuses can be found in a number of European states, among them Albania, Belarus, Croatia and what is left of the Yugoslav Republic. The fact that Germany is close geographically to these countries should be an incentive for it to increase its role in managing regional stability. A final reason why it is important to know whether both Germany and Japan will increase their part in the management of the international system is the difficulty of solving soft or extended security issues. Soft security problems affect all nations irrespective of their political and social conditions and often require joint cooperation on a global scale for their solution. The threat of another Chernobyl, the spread of AIDS and the preservation of the environment require Germany and Japan to emerge as cooperative regional leaders in areas of nontraditional security. Only a global partnership of the major powers in the international system, involving burden sharing and responsibility sharing, can serve as a guarantor of free markets and a stable international system. NOTES 1. Karel van Wolferen. 1989. The Enigma of Japanese Power: People and Politics in a Stateless Nation. London: MacMillan. p. 1. 2. Andrei S. Markovits and Simon Reich. 1997. The German Predicament. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. p. 25. 3. John Mearsheimer. 1991. “Back to the Future: Instability in Europe After the Cold War.” In The Cold War and After, ed. Sean M. Lynee-Jones. Cambridge, MA:

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MIT Press, and; Kenneth N. Waltz. 1993. “The Emerging Structure of International Politics.” International Security 18(2): 44–79. 4. Anne-Marie LeGloannec. 1993. “France, Germany, and the New Europe.” In The Germans and Their Neighbors, ed. Dirk Verheyen and Christian Søe. Boulder: Westview Press. p. 30. 5. See Appendix 8A. “Tables of military expenditure.” SIPRI Yearbook 1996: Armaments, Disarmament and International Security. Oxford: Oxford University Press. pp. 327–329. 6. Armacost cited in Yoichi Funabashi. 1992. “Japan and America: Global Partners.” Foreign Policy 86: 30–31. 7. Süddeutsche Zeitung, 4 July 1994, as quoted in Franz-Josef Meiers. 1996. “Germany’s ‘Out-of-Area’ Dilemma.” In Force, Statecraft and German Unity: The Struggle to Adapt Institutions and Practices, ed. Thomas-Durell Young. Strategic Studies Institute Publications. Carlisle, PA: U.S. Army War College. p. 9. 8. Tom Heneghan, “Clinton encourages larger German role in world,” Reuter News Service, Western Europe, 11 July 1994. 9. “Burdensharing Press Release,” 16 May 1996, . 10. See Hanns W. Maull. 1990–91. “Germany and Japan: The New Civilian Powers.” Foreign Affairs 69(5): 91–107, and; Maull. 1994. “Japan und Deutschland: Die neuen Großmächte?” Europa-Archiv 21: 603–610. 11. See Richard Rosecrance. 1986. The Rise of the Trading State. New York: Basic Book Publishers. 12. David Schoenbaum and Elizabeth Pond. 1996. The German Question and Other German Questions. New York: St. Martin’s Press. p. 67. 13. Peter J. Katzenstein. 1996. Cultural Norms and National Security. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. p. 137. 14. “Dodging bullets by dodging issues,” The Economist, 2 December 1995. 15. Michael Yahuda. 1996. The International Politics of the Asia-Pacific. New York: Routledge. p. 251. 16. Michael Blaker. 1995. “Japan in 1994: Out with the Old, In with the New?” Asian Survey 35(1): 9. 17. James N. Rosenau and Gary D. Hoggard. 1974. “Foreign Policy Behavior in Dyadic Relationships: Testing a Pre-Theoretical Extension.” In Comparing Foreign Policies, ed. James N. Rosenau. New York: Sage. p. 117. 18. Scholars who are associated with this model (that also goes by other names such as, the “traditional,” “strategic” or “black-box” model) are Kenneth Waltz, Richard E. Neustadt, Charles E. Lindblom, Warner R. Schilling and Samuel P. Huntington. 19. James N. Rosenau. 1966. “Pre-Theories and Theories of Foreign Policy.” In Approaches to Comparative and International Politics, ed. R. Barry Farrell. Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press. p. 32. 20. Hermann and Peacock. 1987. “Evolution and Future Research.” In New Directions in the Study of Foreign Policy, ed. Charles F. Hermann et al. London: Harper Collins; see also, John A. Vasquez. 1981. “Explaining and Evaluating Foreign Policy: A New Agenda for Comparative Foreign Policy.” In Evaluating U.S. Foreign Policy, ed. John A. Vasquez. New York: Praeger.

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21. Kenneth W. Thompson and Roy C. Maridis. 1962. “The Comparative Study of Foreign Policy.” In Foreign Policy in World Politics, ed. Roy C. Macridis. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, as quoted in James N. Rosenau. 1980. The Scientific Study of Foreign Policy. London: Frances Pinter. p. 45. 22. “First generation” refers to a core of scholars who were concerned with the construction of a rigorous body of mostly quantitative research that would form a unified field of study. See Laura Neack, Jeanne A. K. Hey and Patrick J. Haney, eds. 1995. Foreign Policy Analysis. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall. pp. 2, 3. 23. Ibid. p. 11. 24. Ibid. p. 9. 25. J. David Singer introduced the “level of analysis problem” in his influential 1961 article, which argued that two broad levels exist: the external or international-system level and the internal or domestic level. Singer also argued that the choice of a particular level of analysis will predetermine, to some extent, what a researcher will and will not see. In other words, different levels tend to emphasize different actors and processes. Finally, it should be noted that Singer believed that the two levels could not be combined to arrive at one general explanation. J. David Singer. 1961. “The Level-of-Analysis Problem in International Relations.” In The International System: Theoretical Essays, ed. Klaus Knorr and Sidney Verba. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University. pp. 77–92. 26. Barry Buzan. 1995. “The Level of Analysis Problem in International Relations Reconsidered.” In International Relations Theory Today, ed. Ken Booth and Steve Smith. Oxford: Polity Press. p. 198. 27. Neack, Hey and Haney. 1995. p. 4. Examples of middle-range theories are the organizational behavior model and the bureaucratic politics model (I. M. Destler. 1974; Graham T. Allison. 1971; Allison. 1969, and; Allison and Morton H. Halperin. 1982); the pluralist model (Thomas L. Brewer. 1992); the democratic politics model (Marlies G. Steinert. 1976), and; the hero-in-history model (Sidney Hook. 1992). 28. Rosenau and Hoggard. 1974. p. 119. 29. Deborah J. Gerner. 1995. “The Evolution of the Study of Foreign Policy.” In Foreign Policy Analysis, ed. Laura Neack, Jeanne A. K. Hey and Patrick J. Haney. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall. p. 21. 30. Buzan. 1995. p. 202. 31. Ibid. pp. 202–203. See also Kenneth N. Waltz. 1954. Man, the State and War. New York: Columbia University Press. 32. Rosenau. 1966. pp. 40, 41; see also Rosenau. 1980. The Scientific Study of Foreign Policy. London: Pinter. 33. Gerner. 1995. p. 19. 34. Papadakis and Starr. 1987. “Opportunity, Willingness, and Small States: The Relationship Between Environment and Foreign Policy.” In New Directions In The Study of Foreign Policy, ed. Charles F. Hermann, et al. p. 410. See also Harold and Margaret Sprout. 1968. An Ecological Paradigm for the Study of International Politics. Princeton, NJ: Center for International Studies. 35. Papadakis and Starr. 1987. p. 414. 36. Ibid. p. 415. 37. Bruce Russet and Harvey Starr. 1996. World Politics. 5th ed. New York: W. H. Freeman. p. 19.

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38. Ibid. p. 20. 39. Mancur Olson and Richard Zeckhauser. 1966. “An Economic theory of Alliance.” Review of Economics and Statistics 48: 278. 40. See Simon Duke. 1993. The Burdensharing Debate: A Reassessment. London: Macmillan, for a review of previous applications of the model. 41. The Sandler, Murdoch and Forbes “joint product model” argues that, in the age of flexible response, an alliance member’s defense expenditures, and more generally its efforts, are not necessarily correlated to its size but rather to the nature and distribution of defense benefits. See John Forbes and Todd Sandler. 1980. “Burdensharing, Strategy and the Design of NATO.” Economic Enquiry 18: 38–51; James Murdoch and Todd Sandler. 1984. “Complementarity, Free Riding, and the Military Expenditures of NATO Allies.” Journal of Public Economics 25: 79–93, and; Todd Sandler and James Murdoch. 1986. “Defense Burdens and Prospects for the Northern European Allies.” In Constraints on Strategy: the Economics of Western Security, ed. D. B. H. Denoon. Washington, D.C.: Pergamon-Brassey’s. 42. See Steven Hurst. 1999. “Bush, Clinton, and Western Europe: Cutting the Costs of Leadership.” National Security Studies Quarterly V(2): 29–52, for a discussion on U.S. attempts at burden “redistribution” in European security matters. 43. Philip H. Gordon. 1994. “Berlin’s Difficulties, The Normalization of German Foreign Policy.” Orbis (spring). p. 230. 44. Anthony Lake, National Security Adviser, “From Containment to Enlargement,” address at the School of Advanced International Studies, Johns Hopkins University, Washington, D.C., 21 September 1993, as cited in Paul Dibb. 1995. pp. 38, 80. 45. For example, Bruce Russett challenged the link between GDP and defense expenditure as an imperfect measure. See Bruce Russett. 1970. What Price Vigilance? New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. See also James R. Golden. 1983. NATO Burden-sharing: Risks and Opportunities. New York: Praeger. pp. 17–65. 46. See “Burdensharing Summary,” . 47. SIPRI Yearbook 1996: Armaments, Disarmament and International Security. Oxford: Oxford University Press. pp. 359–365. 48. Ibid. pp. 365–370. 49. Presidential Decision Directive 25, signed on 3 May 1994, appears to reverse a 1993 directive (PDD-13) which called for “assertive multilateralism.” PDD-25 advises against U.S. participation in multilateral operations that have too broad a mandate, not enough troops or equipment to accomplish their goals, or indefinite and unattainable end points. In order to make UN action more effective the document argues that the U.S. should be more “selective and effective.” The same phraseology has appeared in HR7, “Revising America’s National Security,” which is part of the Republican Party’s Contract with America. For more details see, Press Briefing by National Security Advisor Anthony Lake, and Director of Strategic Plans and Policy General Wesley Clark, 5 May 1994, Washington, D.C., The White House, Office of the Press Secretary. 50. Paul Stares and Nicolas Regaud. 1997–98. “Europe’s Role in Asia-Pacific Security.” Survival 39(4): 119. 51. Markovits and Reich. 1997. pp. xii, 5. 52. Jeffrey E. Garten. 1993. A Cold Peace. New York: Times Books. p. xiii.

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53. Ibid. 54. For example, in 1987, the UN had five peacekeeping missions, three of which were decades old, and staffed with fewer than 10,000 troops, while soon after the Cold War’s demise (in 1993), the UN had twenty-two missions, with more than 80,000 troops. 55. Jose T. Almonte, “It’s Time to Start Formulating a ‘Pax Pacifica,’” International Herald Tribune, 20–21 January 1996, and; The World Bank. 1993. The East Asian Miracle, Economic Growth and Public Policy. New York: Oxford University Press. Jim Rohwer, author of the book Asia Rising, estimates that it is the year 2025 that China’s economy will be the world’s largest. It should also be noted that in October 1996 the World Bank announced that its estimates on China’s growth potential were too optimistic by 25 percent. 56. Richard Bernstein and Ross H. Munro. 1997. The Coming Conflict with China. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. p. 4. It should be noted that regional leaders in the Asia-Pacific, as well as several Western-based commentators, find Bernstein and Munro’s analysis on China to be exaggerated. For example, Kyung-Won Kim, South Korea’s former ambassador to both the UN and the United States, argues that Munro and Bernstein’s views are overly alarmist. American Joseph S. Nye writes that, “The recent hype in the media and by those in the American political system about the so-called Chinese threat is grossly overblown, not empirically grounded, irresponsible and politically dangerous.” See Kyung-Won Kim. 1997–98. “Maintaining Asia’s Current Peace.” Survival 39(4): 52–64, and; Joseph S. Nye. 1997–98. “China’s Re-emergence and the Future of the Asia-Pacific.” Survival 39(4): 69, respectively. 57. Paul Dibb. 1995. “Towards a New Balance of Power in Asia.” Adelphi Paper 295. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 27. Dibb has since altered his view: “Until the financial collapse of mid-1997, confident assertions were being made that Asia’s economic output would soon outstrip that of Europe and the U.S., and even that China would have a larger gross domestic product (GNP) than the U.S. by 2020. All such visions of an ‘Asian century’ have now disappeared.” Paul Dibb, David D. Hale and Peter Prince. 1999. “Asian’s Insecurity.” Survival 41(3): 6. 58. See Ian Anthony, Pieter D. Wezeman and Siemon T. Wezeman. 1996. “The Trade in Major Conventional Weapons.” In SIPRI Yearbook 1996: Armaments, Disarmament and International Security. Oxford: Oxford University Press. pp. 463–468. 59. Jose T. Almonte. 1997–98. “Ensuring Security the ‘ASEAN Way.’” Survival 39(4): 82. Figures on Chinese military expenditures are only estimates. According to SIPRI researchers “most analysts believe that China’s published budget substantially understates its total expenditure on national defense. . . . Estimates of China’s total military expenditure vary widely, ranging from $20 billion to $140 billion.” Elisabeth Sköns, Agnes Courades Allebeck, Evamaria Loose-Weintraub and Petr Stålenheim. 1999. “Military Expenditure.” In SIPRI Yearbook 1999: Armaments, Disarmament and International Security. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 334. 60. For example, Russia delivered to China forty Su-27 and eight Su-27B fighter planes and two destroyer ships. In early 2000, Russia declared that it will sell two additional destroyers to China and that, perhaps more importantly, the ships will be armed with advanced supersonic “Mosquito” missiles. See “Russia’s arms industry: Ivan the lethal,” The Economist, 25 March 2000.

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61. Six of these altercations concern the Spratly Islands, really no more than a collection of reefs in the South China Sea. China, Taiwan, the Philippines, Malaysia, Vietnam and Brunei all claim ownership of the Spratlys. See Charles C. Krulak. 1996. “Protecting the Asian Promise.” Strategic Review 24(3): 8, and; You Ji. 1995. “A Test Case for China’s Defense and Foreign Policies.” Contemporary Southeast Asia 16(4): 375. 62. Mark J. Valencia. 1997. “Energy and Insecurity in Asia.” Survival 39(3): 92. 63. Asia surpassed the Middle East’s position as the largest conventional weapons market in the early 1990s, accounting for some 30 percent of the world’s deliveries in 1992. Ian Anthony, Paul Claesson, Elisabeth Skoens and Siemon T. Wezeman. “Arms production and arms trade.” In SIPRI Yearbook 1993. Oxford: Oxford University Press. pp. 415–520. 64. Susan Willett. 1997. “East Asia’s Changing Defense Industry.” Survival 39(3): 107. 65. Elisabeth Sköns, Agnes Courades Allebeck, Evamaria Loose-Weintraub and Petr Stålenheim. 1999. pp. 285–288. 66. Stephen A. Combone. 1997. “The United States and Theatre Missile Defense in North-east Asia.” Survival 39(3): 66. 67. “Yesterday’s war, tomorrow’s peace,” Survey of the Koreas, The Economist, 10 July 1999. A December 1998 South Korean Defense Ministry report alleges that North Korea has 180 armaments factories located underground, that it conducts regular war mobilization exercises and that it has sufficient food and war material stored to conduct a war for at least three months without additional supplies. See “U.S./North Korean Confrontation Causing Rifts in Tokyo and Seoul,” Global Intelligence Update, 9 December 1998, . 68. Evan S. Medeiros, “Northeast Asia 1999: Current Threats to Nonproliferation Regimes,” Center for Nonproliferation Studies, Monterey Institute of International Studies. 69. For an analysis of possible “crucial threats” to European security (and thus also Germany’s) see Karl-Heinz Kamp. 1995. “European Security Outside of Europe.” In European Security and International Institutions after the Cold War, ed. Marco Carnovale. New York: St. Martin’s Press.

Chapter Two

Germany in the Gulf War

As West German security interests were limited to self-defense within the NATO framework, Germans lacked a global view of security policy and did not develop any security interests beyond the defense of their homeland. The Cold War allowed the Federal Republic to exist in a geopolitical “cocoon,” sheltered from the broader security and geopolitical issues dealt with by its major allies. Franz-Josef Meiers1

German and Japanese security policy was made under highly exceptional circumstances during the entire postwar period—circumstances that Franz-Josef Meiers calls a geopolitical “cocoon.” Being in this situation, of course, was not completely by choice. External factors, in particular the foreign policies of the victorious powers of the Second World War and the encroaching Cold War, decisively influenced not only the foundations of the Federal Republic, but its foreign and security policy throughout the entire postwar period. Even after the restoration of full sovereignty in 1955, the Federal Republic of Germany had few genuine alternatives in the conduct of its foreign relations. Since the collapse of the Berlin War in November 1989, the full return of German sovereignty in the “Two Plus Four Treaty” and the subsequent breakup of the Soviet Union, these exceptional circumstances dramatically changed for the Federal Republic.2 As Robert Tucker observed shortly after the Cold War ended, “What formerly constrained West Germany as no other major state in the postwar order was constrained is now

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gone.”3 Not only were sovereignty restrictions removed, but unification (with the addition of 17 million German citizens) reinstated Germany as the largest, strongest (both economically and militarily) power in Europe.4 Thus, in the post-Cold War era German decision makers had the opportunity, for the first time in more than four decades, to cultivate a global view of foreign affairs. Realists contended, given the competitive nature of the international system, that the FRG would at the Cold War’s end begin to focus on its military might and its regional status in order to insure that German interests remained secure. Realists based their predictions on a number of additional factors, such as the emerging less predictable multipolar world system, Germany’s growing self-confidence over the last forty years with the growth of its economy and the strength of the Bundeswehr within the NATO military alliance. Likewise, soon after the Cold War’s demise, Germany’s allies, the United States in particular, began to voice expectations that the FRG would assume a larger share of the burden of sustaining regional and world security. Germans themselves indicated that they wanted to accept greater participation in these matters. In October 1990, ecstatic and confident over the unity of Germany, Chancellor Helmut Kohl wrote, “We know that upon unification, we will also assume greater responsibility within the community of nations as a whole. Our foreign policy will therefore remain geared towards global partnership, close cooperation and a peaceful reconciliation of interests.”5 Similarly, Karl Kaiser, the director of the Research Institute of the German Society for Foreign Politics, declared in late 1990, “A united Germany, free of the East-West confrontation on its soil and now one of the world’s wealthiest democracies, must face a novel and difficult task: to reconcile its postwar foreign-policy traditions with the new responsibilities that inevitably accompany its enhanced position and require the—sometimes unpopular—use of its political, economic and military resources in partnership with others to preserve peace on an unstable globe.”6 The first important event in the “new world order,” where Germans could conceivably demonstrate their willingness to assume this heralded posture, was the Gulf War. However, the Germans did not do as anticipated. Instead, they denied they had any power to use in the resolution of the Gulf War. Bonn refused to send soldiers to its allies’ military ground and air operations against Iraq, and it delayed supporting the allied coalition of twenty-nine countries that did send military personnel. Moreover, it failed to make a clear enunciation of its policies toward the war. Rather than sending out cues that it was a grateful ally emerging from the Cold War stronger and more determined to protect the world from destruction of the kind it had waged in the past, the FRG sent out signals to its allies that it preferred to let them sacrifice in its stead. Understanding this irrational bearing is the goal of the analysis found below. The environmental

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model can facilitate reaching this objective by closely examining the circumstances (the environment of decision makers) in which the Federal Republic of Germany existed when its schizophrenic behavior manifested itself. The following considers each of the six levels of the environmental model.

THE INTERNATIONAL SYSTEM The international system is defined as the pattern of relations among the actors of world politics. The pattern, in turn, is largely determined by the structure of the world, be it unipolar, bipolar or multipolar. The cessation of the Cold War brought an end to the bipolar international system. In its place emerged a more multipolar one; however, the United States remained a predominant power. Yet, there were limits to America’s willingness to wield preeminent power. These limits were dramatically revealed by the international efforts of U.S. secretaries of state and treasury to raise funds to defray the military costs of the U.S.-led force against the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait. Indeed, when the Gulf War started American fiscal problems were pressing a reassessment of U.S. force levels in Europe and elsewhere. Within the context of the powers at the next tier, the Federal Republic emerged as one of the strongest actors; indeed, it was the strongest economic power in the European Community (EC). This power emanated primarily from Germany’s economic strength (strong industrial and banking sectors as well as a strong export market), but it included its large population, its geographic position, its large landmass and the strength of its military. Despite the fact that the FRG was the strongest economic power in Europe, France rivaled it for political leadership in European institutions while Great Britain was more poised to lead Europe militarily. The end of the bipolar conflict left a security perforation in the center of Europe that became especially pronounced after the dissolution of the military structure of the Warsaw Pact in early 1991 (agreed to on 25 February and effective 1 April). This rent in the existing security structures, in turn, allowed long-suppressed rivalries in the region to flare up again, as evidenced by the outbreak of conflict in the former Yugoslavia and the first attempt by Chechen separatists to bring about independence for Chechnya. The Soviet Union was largely a spent force; however, its colossal inventory of nuclear weapons, its military-industrial base, its vast army (of which large parts were still stationed in Central Europe, notably the German Democratic Republic) and its immense size, complete with prodigious natural resources, meant that it remained an important regional entity. A few additional observations should be made about the second tier of European regional powers. Their participation in peace operations and international humanitarian missions was hindered by the fact that their ar-

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mies lacked well-trained rapid reaction forces and adequate deployment capabilities.7 In Germany’s particular case, deficiencies can, in part, be “explained by Germany’s location on the ‘central front,’ in Cold War NATO parlance.”8 For similar reasons, Germany did not possess the command and control arrangements needed to undertake joint operations on any scale, relying instead on NATO command structures and U.S. infrastructure and resources. The Federal Republic was further impeded by reduced military expenditures in general and high temporary outlays allocated to cleaning up, upgrading and/or closing East German Army military facilities. These obstacles complicated the efforts of the Federal Ministry of Defense to plan for the development of newly needed military competence, such as rapid reaction forces that could be used in missions like the Gulf War. The cost of unification also resulted in defense monies being cut: defense spending in Germany fell by roughly 15 percent after unification while military manpower fell from 670,000 troops (including former German Democratic Republic soldiers) to 340,000. Unification also took away the FRG’s two traditional economic strengths: a large balance of payments surplus and healthy public finances. Moreover, the unpredictable and shockingly high cost of unifying Germany pointed to long-term economic and financial obligations. As Hanns W. Maull observes, “[A lack of economic and financial surpluses] will tend to make the country less interested in taking a lead, and less inclined to do so, in foreign policy issues outside Europe. . . . [These factors] will produce very substantial pressures for abstention from wider international involvements; in other words for parochialism.”9

INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS Considering the Federal Republic’s relations with several key nation-states is an essential element in explaining German behavior in the Gulf War. The first important relationship is with the United States. The Soviet threat during the Cold War meant that the United States was a de facto participant in West German foreign and security affairs by virtue of the U.S. role in security in Europe and in particular on West German soil. In the post-Cold War world the United States made manifest its expectations (through, for example, Bush’s May 1989 speech in Mainz) that Europe, and Germany in particular, use its economic might to achieve more political influence in the region as well as to ensure stability on Europe’s borders and beyond. This expectation emerged after the Cold War for several reasons. First, the United States, less inhibited by tragic memories from the Second World War, “found the potential of a united Germany less of a problem than did Germany’s neighbors.”10 Second, America’s ability to project power was perceived to have declined. David Calleo’s 1987 book Beyond American Hegemony and Paul Kennedy’s book the following year, The Rise

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and Fall of the Great Powers, had produced an obsession with “declinism” in the United States by the late 1980s.11 Third, in the immediate aftermath of the Cold War the United States was preoccupied with internal affairs. The growing U.S. budget deficit, the immense trade deficit, concern about the long-term health of the American economy and a desire to reap the domestic economic benefits of a “peace dividend” all put pressure on the Bush administration to limit resources allocated to foreign security matters. Fourth, during the Cold War West Germany had been a “front line” state in the stand-off with the Soviet Union, and therefore had an overtly defensive military posture. Such a stance was, however, of limited value in overall U.S./NATO strategy in the post-Cold War era and, accordingly, the United States made a strong, concerted effort to encourage the FRG to contribute in a more direct way to the alliance. When the Federal Republic did not grasp its anticipated posture in the Gulf War, many Americans were angered, declaring that Germany was shirking its responsibilities, unwilling to face reality and concerned only with protecting its economy. Leading Americans publicly criticized Germany. For example, U.S. Senator Robert Byrd referred to the German decision to limit its participation to financial contributions to the UNsanctioned multinational force as “a monstrous shame” while Henry Kissinger questioned how “could they do this to us” after the United States’ strong support for unification and “forty years of protection.”12 However, such admonishment did not translate into U.S. abandonment of the special security relationship with the Germans. According to Robert Hormats, the condemnations were a result not so much of Bonn’s failure to commit troops, which was largely understood, as from a feeling that having received U.S. defense protection against the Warsaw Pact for forty years, Germany was now slow to provide even financial support when its own compelling interests, such as oil supplies, were at stake.13 For their part, Germans continued to view their relationship with America and the preservation of American engagement in Europe as essential to their security. Although the end of the Cold War released Germany from formal dependency on the American superpower, Bonn soon realized that a strong transatlantic relationship was necessary for at least two additional reasons. First, the United States’ presence was necessary for allaying any fears that neighbors might have concerning a powerful united Germany in the middle of Europe. Second, U.S. political and security leadership was still an important component in overall European security frameworks, whatever the French might think. However, at the Cold War’s end, Germany made it clear it also wanted some room to maneuver. It hoped to develop the ineffectual European frameworks and to cultivate German plans to begin incorporating eastern neighbors more closely into European economic and security structures. Therefore, the FRG took initial steps toward making the partnership with the United

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States more equal, especially by proposing that in the near future the Federal Republic be given a seat on the UN Security Council. These diverging pressures put Bonn in an awkward position when the Gulf War broke out. Should it prove its loyalty as a partner in the new world order and put not only its money but its men where its mouth was, or should it embark upon a more European course that might “reveal its ultimate disloyalty” to the United States?14 Within the European context there are three main actors whose relationships with the Federal Republic were especially important during the Gulf War and the immediate post-Cold War period: France, Great Britain and the Soviet Union. In France’s case, despite the fact that relations with the Federal Republic since the end of the Second World War were close, French President François Mitterrand was extremely nervous and even unhappy about Germany’s return to full sovereignty.15 In particular, Mitterrand feared German domination of the European Community. He also worried that a strong reunited Germany with close ties to its east would heavily push EC expansion eastwards, which would in turn politically, strategically and geographically marginalize France. Max Jakobson writes of this possible shift in the political balance within Europe, “[The Paris-Bonn axis] functioned smoothly as long as Germany was a West European state—an economic giant but a political dwarf. But after unification Germany is no longer a West European state: it is a European power, once again at the center of the continent, with Berlin as its future capital.”16 Such circumstances were bound to affect France’s plans of being the political helmsman of Europe. As a result of his fears, Mitterrand tried to stop or at least slow down unification by traveling to the German Democratic Republic in December 1989, to exhort the East Germans not to embrace the Federal Republic, and by traveling to Moscow in May 1990, to convince Gorbachev not to let the GDR unify with the FRG. In spite of French misgivings concerning Germany’s role in Europe and its fears of marginalization, France had a clearer concept of its own aims than did Great Britain or the Soviet Union during the Gulf War. It also held the strongest world vision and had the most proactive policies: it consistently tried to limit the United States’ role and influence in European affairs while increasing its own.17 As a result, France presented to the Federal Republic a security model counter to the U.S.-dominated one, the latter being a Cold War model that the French assumed would lose relevance as America withdrew from Europe (the United States did cut back its troop numbers from 326,000 in the late 1980s to around 100,000 in the 1990s). France’s model, however, was heavily based upon the embedding of German power within European institutions. This model was easily adhered to in the postwar period, when accepting French leadership had been a part of Germany’s legitimacy as a Western-orientated nation-state. During the Gulf War, France continued to push the embedment idea, with

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Bonn playing second fiddle to Paris in the European Community. After the collapse of the Soviet threat, forecasts of a shift in America’s future role in Europe led France to believe that its wishes were coming true. Indeed, at that time there were some indications that the Federal Republic would move away from North Atlantic ties toward European ones.18 The French moved quickly to support this apparent turnabout, promoting the creation of a framework that would be primarily European, even continental, that might completely replace the NATO framework. In October 1991, in an attempt to harness Germany’s strengths for this more European architecture, Mitterrand, in conjunction with Kohl, proposed building a German-French joint-force military unit that would, in turn, become the core of a future European defense, a “Eurocorps.”19 However, the corps was not to be fully operational until 1995 and only after invitations were sent out to other Western European Union (WEU)20 members to contribute to the corps, did it become truly “Euro,” including Dutch, Spanish, Belgian and Luxembourg soldiers. In the end, however, despite Bonn’s compulsion to continue the so-called “alliance within the alliance,” Germany still viewed the U.S.-backed NATO structure as the key to European security.21 Like France, when the Cold War threat began to dissolve and Germany began the process of unification, Great Britain was wary of having a stronger, potentially more military-minded, unified Germany in the center of Europe. Various British politicians and journalists spoke out against the “German juggernaut.”22 For example, British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher voiced her concerns about the rapidity and irrationality of the events taking place in late 1989 and early 1990, arguing that unification had “profound implications for the balance of power in Europe, where a reunified Germany would be dominant.”23 Overall, however, as Christopher Hill points out in his analysis on German-British relations, the British were not as critical of Germany as Thatcher was personally. For example, 62 percent of the British public disagreed that a united Germany would “pose a serious threat to peace in Europe in the future.”24 With political elites one could find diversity of opinion. In fact, one could identify two competing views on how relations with Germany should be handled at the Cold War’s end. These two views could be loosely identified with party ideologies. Members of the more pro-EC parties, the Liberal Democrats and the Labour Party, were more likely to view German unification and its new subsequent role in Europe as benign if not positive. Tories were more likely to take Thatcher’s view that “Germany was an embryonic leviathan, only temporarily inconvenienced by the costs of absorbing the new Länder and requiring a new round of balance-of-power politics so as to ensure that the European system falls into neither chaos nor hegemony.”25 However, there were also conservatives in the British government, notably within the Foreign Office, who disagreed with Thatcher’s view on Germany. Tension between Downing Street and Whitehall on how to view

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Germany were only completely resolved by the departure of Mrs. Thatcher and her replacement by John Major.26 One result of this tension was that the British were not as keen as the Americans to have the Federal Republic assume a greater role in the management of international security. The British were quite happy to allow Germany to increase its participation in diplomatic and economic actions while they continued to lead in military action. In the case of the European Community, Great Britain’s goal was not preeminence, but rather independence within the integrationist movement in Europe. In this regard they did not view integration as a means of harnessing German regional power, as the French did, but rather as a means to push for the widening of the EC to counter the French advocacy of deepening. In a similar vein, Bonn desired to keep good relations with the British to limit Germany’s dependence on France within the European context. Good relations with Great Britain also deterred the alienation of other European allies. For the Soviet Union, Germany was the main proponent of ensuring that it was not shut out of Europe. In the early 1990s, before the Soviet empire’s collapse, Germany viewed Soviet domestic stability as the key to maintaining overall equilibrium in Central Europe. In light of this view, Bonn was naturally apprehensive about the evident disintegration of the Soviet Union and as a consequence kept a close eye on the Kremlin. Certainly the majority of the world’s foreign policy analysts were, alongside the Germans, focused on the breakup of the Warsaw Pact before Saddam Hussein decided to invade Kuwait in August 1990. As Angela Stent writes in her comprehensive work on Russian-German relations, Between February and September 1990, in a mere seven months, the entire postwar map of Europe was redrawn and the results of World War II were revised. It was a period of frantic negotiations on a variety of levels, but the Western powers realized that their window of opportunity was small. Gorbachev was under growing pressure domestically, denounced both by hardliners who accused him of dismantling socialism, and by reformers who accused him of moving too slowly.27

In fact, the month before the invasion of Kuwait Chancellor Kohl traveled to meet Soviet President Mikhail Gorbachev in Moscow and in the Caucasus mountains to work out the final details of German unification. In January 1991, exactly when U.S. President Bush’s ultimatum to Iraq ran out and the ground war began, Soviet tanks waged an assault on Lithuanian nationalists in Vilnius, killing thirteen. The prospect of a renewed Soviet crackdown in the Baltics alongside the fact that the Red Army retained a strong hold in the former German Democratic Republic (with 380,000 soldiers) made the Federal Republic extremely nervous. The last Soviet soldier was not scheduled to leave for another four years. Bonn pledged $46 billion to the Soviet Union, much of it for the costs of restationing and retraining of these Soviet troops. Karl Kaiser observes that Ger-

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mans were careful that even the “psychology of withdrawal” was acceptable to Moscow. “Germany and the West had every interest in creating dignified conditions for the Soviet retreat. Germans committed themselves therefore to an acceptable transition period, to creating reasonably decent conditions for the departing soldiers and to preserving the Soviet war memorials on German soil.”28 Bonn on the other hand, was eager to see the back of these troops stationed on east German soil because they were “equipped with state-of-the-art weapons as well as tactical nuclear arms.”29 Additionally, the Soviet Union had recently “committed major violations against the spirit and letter of the first Conventional Forces in Europe (CFE) Treaty,” which cast doubt on the intentions of these heavily armed troops.30 A second consequence of Soviet violations of the treaty was U.S. postponement of ratification of CFE which, in turn, affected the FRG “because the bargaining chip to win Soviet agreement to Germany’s unification, and in particular its membership to NATO, was for Germany’s entire armed forces to be considerably reduced.”31 Along with persistent prompting to ratify the treaty to withdraw Soviet troops, Bonn also consistently pressed the Soviets to ratify the Two plus Four Treaty on German unification. Although the Soviets played only a limited role in the circumstances that led up to the fall of the Berlin Wall—indeed events appeared to be out of their control—after the Kremlin agreed to the principle of unification, the Soviet Union’s role became more significant. This was largely due to the Soviet’s veto power in the Two plus Four negotiations.32 As an incentive to get the Soviet parliament to ratify the treaty, the Germans offered large economic privileges and outright cash payments. Complementing these outlays, Germany also began fostering trade with the Soviet Union. As a result, the bulk of Russia’s subsequent trade with EC members, and later with the European Union (EU), has been with Germany.33 For example, a large part of the credit for concluding the December 1993 trade agreement between the European Union and Russia, the first comprehensive trade agreement of its kind, should be given to the Germans. Clearly if an emerging German role benefited the Soviets they were not against it. Angela Stent argues that the Soviets even planned Germany’s future role as their advocate: “The Soviet leadership finally agreed to make the best out of a situation that was antithetical to its interests by bargaining for substantial German economic concessions in return for accepting German political conditions—an arrangement that was designed to ensure German involvement in the USSR for a long time and guaranteed Germany a premier role in the post-Soviet states after the collapse of communism.”34 However, had the Soviet empire not been disintegrating, the view from the Kremlin might have been more wary. Indeed, Gorbachev was preoccupied with internal affairs in late 1990 and early 1991, especially with reforming the decrepit Soviet economy and dealing with the rebelliousness of ethnic minorities.35 Coit D. Blacker

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points out that in 1990–91 “What began as a well-conceived strategy to recast the tone and substance of Soviet policy in Europe all but dissolved in the face of an extraordinary political upheaval that the Soviet leadership appears not to have anticipated.” “Kremlin leaders,” Blacker continues, “confront[ed] the virtual collapse of Soviet power on the continent.” As a result, Kremlin leadership could do nothing but “simply . . . respond to events as they occur[red].”36

SOCIETAL The societal level, the makeup and the politics of the society within which decision makers live, certainly affects the minds of decision makers. This section will first discuss the various entities of German society (elites, the public and political parties) as they relate to policy making in the immediate post-Cold War era. The removal of restrictions placed on the sovereignty of the Federal Republic of Germany stimulated a lively debate over the FRG’s future policy direction within the foreign policy community in Germany. In his analysis of the German public discourse on foreign policy, Gunther Hellmann elucidates the divisions in the debate on what security role Germany should assume in the post-Cold War era.37 He argues that two particular issues figured prominently in this public debate: the issue of whether and under what conditions Germany should contribute forces to multilateral peacekeeping or peace-enforcing missions and the issue of Germany’s Western orientation. According to Hellmann, the discussion of the former issue involves public opinion more broadly, while the discourse of the latter issue is more elite-based. Hellmann then chooses to focus on the second issue for several reasons: he argues it is less publicized, and thus, he further asserts, it is the more fundamental debate of the two, and; finally, because he believes that it is the elite ideas, which comprise the different schools of thought in this second debate, that are influential in the foreign policy community in the Federal Republic. Hellmann then identifies five schools of elite thought that dominate this more serious discourse over Germany’s future foreign policy orientation: pragmatic multilateralists, europeanists, euroskeptics, internationalists and normalization-nationalists. These schools of thought differ in their policy recommendations and in their underlying assumptions and world views. They also differ in the amount of influence they had on the decision-making process. Because elite influences in general were an important component, the five schools of thought will be considered here in some detail. The pragmatic multilateralist school, largely made up of foreign policy experts who represented the centrist view of the old Federal Republic, advocated an orientation that was mindful of the interconnectedness that Germany has with the wider world. The multilateral policy adhered to during the Cold Wars Years was still very applicable to the post-Cold War

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world; indeed, the changes since 1989–90 only reinforced German incentives to act multilaterally. A second feature of the pragmatic multilateralists was that they accepted the notion that Germany’s power and international responsibility increased at the end of the Cold War. Hellmann argues that they based this conclusion on the belief in at least three of the ideas of Realpolitik: first, that order in the international system is valuable; second, that the threat and use of force is both necessary and legitimate in some circumstances to reestablish order, and; third, that the major powers have both a special interest and a special obligation to see that order is preserved. However, pragmatic multilateralists also argued that any power Germany projects or responsibility it chooses to bear on the international stage should be projected and borne only through collective institutions. They further contended that Germany’s acceptance of power and international responsibility was a wise, if not inevitable, shift in Germany’s foreign policy because Germany is dependent on the continued existence of an open world economy, especially within EC/EU and OECD (the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development) confines. This dependence compels Germany to see that open markets are maintained. A third characteristic of pragmatic multilateralists is their emphasis on the need for German foreign policy makers to define German interests, believing that seeking cover behind alliance partners will no longer suffice. However, the pragmatic multilateralists were unable to agree on what German interests were or for that matter what they should be. Foreign policy elites in Germany who can be classified as pragmatic multilateralists include Michael Stürmer,38 Helga Haftendorn39 and Karl Kaiser.40 The europeanist and the euroskeptic schools shared with the pragmatic multilateralists the view that Germany should pursue a multilateral strategy but differed from them on the degree to which Germany should be involved in European integration. The europeanists, including writers like Werner Weidenfeld,41 Werner Link42 and former Social Democrat Party (SPD) Chancellor Helmut Schmidt,43 argued that European integration (both deepening and widening) should be the most important concern in German foreign affairs, while the euroskeptics contended that Germany should begin to view itself as a normal nation-state, and as such, policy makers should stop aiming for a federal Europe that transcends the nation-state. For their part, pragmatic multilateralists refused to either advocate or oppose European integration. Hellmann writes, “Although, in general, pragmatic multilateralists accept that the stakes for Germany are high with regard to the future of the European Union, they view it as only one institution among many.”44 This, of course, was not the case for europeanists who viewed European integration as paramount to future German welfare and indeed advocated acceleration of the process because, firstly, a federal union would prevent the reemergence of

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geopolitical counterbalancing coalitions vis-à-vis a strong Germany dominating the growth of Central and Eastern Europe and, secondly, because it would improve Europe’s stance against other centers of power in North America and Asia. As a result, europeanists viewed future FrancoGerman cooperation as essential and German-American relations as secondary. Finally, europeanists maintained that the FRG’s role had increased in the post-Cold War world, but only so far as to make it a leader in the movement toward a greater Europe that would eventually supersede German external affairs. Euroskeptics, on the other hand, did not advocate further political integration that would transcend the nation-state. Rather, writers like Hans-Peter Schwarz45 and Jürgen von Alten46 found that the end of the bipolar world brought back the importance of the nation-state in an anarchic world. In such a world the notion of being a great power once again has meaning, and Germany, euroskeptics argued, is such a power, with, they added, commensurate responsibilities. Yet, euroskeptics also contended that the FRG would not make itself greater than it actually was, becoming, rather, a benign, well-intentioned great power. Indeed, euroskeptics viewed the post-Cold War Federal Republic as an enlightened and rational great power. However, given the reality of competing nation-states in an anarchic system, they claimed that it is only natural for Germany to concentrate on national interests, narrowly and selfishly defined, and to return to the use of “traditional instruments of great power politics (such as alliances, diplomacy, great power concerts) in contrast to the formal institutionalization of international cooperation in supranational structures.”47 Thus, maintaining the NATO alliance and keeping a U.S. military presence in Europe “is deemed vital both for the balancing of intra-European relations and as a reassurance against the prevailing risks in eastern Europe, especially Russia.”48 In contrast to euroskeptic views that traditional instruments of power politics are still valid, the internationalists maintained that “the world of states” is gone for good. Scholars such as Hanns W. Maull,49 Jürgen Habermas50 and Green party leader Joschka Fischer51 argued instead that nation-states must conduct their foreign affairs against the background of an ever more complex and interdependent world. For internationalists there is no foreign policy anymore, rather there is only “internationalizing policy,” or policy made in one country that has international consequences. Internationalists further reject traditional concepts of power and the traditional role of “great powers” because they find such notions are based on a misconceived view of power as control over resources. However, internationalists do believe that Germany has an obligation to assume responsibility in international affairs, arguing that it should do so not only because it is beneficial to Germany as a trading state but also because it is the ethical approach to take. This obligation did not translate

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into the projection of traditional concepts of power, however. Rather, Germany should, according to internationalists, “define its role in line with the demands of an agenda for sustainable global development.”52 Internationalists recognized that military force sometimes may be necessary, but only after multilateral sanctions and other nonmilitary attempts to end a crisis situation have failed. They recommended that the best way for Germany to adhere to these principles was to maintain a policy of self-restraint combined with a policy of commitment to international law and working through international and regional organizations. In contrast to all the above schools were the normalization-nationalists or the new democratic right, as they call themselves. Writers such as Rainer Zitelmann, Brigitte Seebacher-Brandt (former chancellor Willy Brandt’s wife) and the poet Botho Strauß concentrated on Germany’s need to revise its domestic view of itself or in their opinion Germany’s need to break free of its own image of self-hate as the inheritor of the Nazi past. Jacob Heilbrunn’s article in Foreign Affairs on Germany’s new intellectual right also addresses the philosophies of this school.53 Normalization-nationalists viewed the western orientation and the integration process with the West as irrational decisions: “‘Westbindung’ is viewed as having outlived itself as an ideological blinder which has nurtured a false conscience in Germany,” as well as having erased a German sense of identity.54 Instead, normalization-nationalists found geopolitics wholly relevant for defining future German foreign relations. However, they were not in agreement on specific policy lines. These five schools of elite opinion, as they existed in the immediate post-Cold War era, influenced German foreign policy in varying degrees. The pragmatic multilateralists and the europeanists had the most influence with the German policy-making bureaucracy, the governing parties (the Christian Democratic Union [CDU]/Christian Social Union [CSU] and the Free Democratic Union [FDP]), as well as with an important segment of the SPD. The opposition parties (the majority of the SPD, the Greens and the PDS), were influenced by the ideas of the internationalists more so than by the views of the other schools. The euroskeptics and the normalization-nationalists had less influence, finding only a modicum of support in the conservative wings of the CDU, the CSU and the FDP. Both latter schools, however, enjoyed increasing sympathy with the broader German public. In general though, most Germans, like the majority in the German parliament, agreed with the arguments forwarded by pragmatic multilateralists and the europeanists, favoring continued European integration and a multilaterally-based German foreign and security policy. Indeed, the public strongly supported further development of EC/EU institutions, including the ultimate goal of transferring sovereignty to them in such core areas as foreign, security and defense. Within this context the German public rejected the possibility of a “hegemonic role,” or

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even a leadership role, for the FRG.55 Hellmann writes, “The hesitation to play a leadership role becomes even clearer when the public is queried about Germany’s future military role . . . three examples from recent public opinion surveys show that the German population continues to hold serious reservations about the role of the military in general and the use of force in particular.”56 Such reservations included Bundeswehr participation in military peacekeeping operations and fighting an aggressor under a UN mandate, such as the situation in the Gulf War.57 The German public’s reservations toward greater use of the German military in the Gulf War were multifaceted and sometimes strongly expressed. Not only did the public harbor deep-rooted doubts about the German military, but the Gulf War specifically released memories of the Second World War that were suppressed during the Cold War. Moreover, after more than forty years of convincing themselves that their nation should not deploy troops outside the NATO area, which was strongly reinforced by their neighbors and NATO partners, Germans felt that they were being asked almost overnight to change a policy that had been agreed upon for the whole of the postwar era. Most of the public viewed changing such a tried and low-key foreign and security policy as antithetical to their interests and those of other nation-states.58 Post-unity public opinion surveys in the FRG also point to the fact that Germans did not find that reunification had given Germany the opportunity to play a more enhanced regional role.59 Thus, the predominant attitude in the public debate on the Gulf dispute was antiwar, with Germans believing that Germany had little or no role to play in the conflict. Many Germans were even passionately against the war. More than 2,000 persons attended antiwar protests that took place in Bonn and other major cities throughout Germany on 12 January 1991, and some 200,000 gathered in Bonn on 26 January, an assembly larger than any other in Europe protesting against the Gulf War. To a great extent the German public’s views on the Gulf War can be linked to the German self-image. Despite the fact that post-1989 external expectations for the FRG changed enormously, many of the underlying images of a German “national psyche” and the Federal Republic’s distinct postwar inclination to foster economic strength over political and military might did not. Much of the reasoning behind both the national psyche and policy preference had to do with the “Shadow of Auschwitz,” a dark shadow so heavy that some have speculated it led to German Machtvergessenheit, or that Germany’s consciousness of traditional power politics was forgotten, even purposefully stamped out so that now it was oblivious to power politics.60 In the 40 years of postwar “foreign policy abstinence” Germans thus forgot “the relationship between capability and power, between geography and geopolitics.”61 Foreign Minister Klaus Kinkel called the influence of these memories of the Nazi past Germany’s “culture of restraint.”62 Johannes Gross, a satirist for FAZ-Magazin, called

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Bonn’s peculiar postwar foreign-policy orientation “Moralpolitik.” Gross commented, “The word ‘Realpolitik,’ has been lost in the German language, and will no longer be needed; it lives on in other languages as a foreign expression. In place of it we urgently need the word ‘Moralpolitik’ in order to label that which we, out of responsibility, refrain from doing.”63 Andrei Markovits and Simon Reich labeled this modern German allergy to Realpolitik as an “‘ideology of reticence,’ a desire to see themselves (and for others to see them) as simply a larger Austria or Switzerland.”64 Indeed, many German watchers argued that after the wall fell in 1989, Germany’s psychology appeared to continue to reflect the belief that the Hitler years meant that Germany was forever fated to be different from other nation-states, meaning that it was not able to use military force or power politics as political instruments. David Marsh makes the added point that the FRG’s sense of morality could also be high-minded: Germany wants its ideas—on social policy, on the environment, on the need to combat inflation or establish independent central banks, on the balance between ‘widening’ and ‘deepening’—to be followed as closely as possible by its partners. This is a question less of power-play than of a curious form of political morality. The Germans genuinely believe that their ideas are in other people’s (as well as their own) best interest.65

Ian Buruma makes a similar argument in his book on memories of war in Germany and Japan. Buruma writes, “What is so convenient in the cases of Germany and Japan is that pacifism happens to be a high-minded way to dull the pain of historical guilt. Or, conversely, if one wallows in it, pacifism turns national guilt into a virtue, almost a mark of superiority, when compared to the complacency of other nations.”66 German inability to relate to realpolitik and power politics is in part a reflection of the fact that two generations of Germans were educated to renounce war and never again send German soldiers to the front. Likewise, the Cold War decades were a time marked by political debates that focused primarily on domestic issues. Insulated by the bipolar system, much of the German population grew accustomed to viewing security and the national use of force as antithetical. Almost no thought was given to the possibility that German forces might be called upon to assist another member of the Atlantic alliance since the prime assumption had been that West Germany would be the target of armed attacks through the Hof corridor and the Fulda Gap. “So it should come as no surprise,” Bregor Schöllgen writes, “that German foreign policy seemed helpless and overtaxed in 1990, when the country unexpectedly had to act as a sovereign state and a major European power.”67 Michael Mertes simply writes, “Germany, having reacquired her full sovereignty only in 1990, [was] not yet endowed with what might be called mental sovereignty.”68

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Germany’s perceptions of itself and its capacity to act globally contrasted sharply, however, with non-German foreign policy analysts’ views, which were much more optimistic about Germany’s increase in and potential to use military might positively.69 “The Western allies of the Federal Republic were,” Lothar Ruehl observes “by and large, much more optimistic and sanguine about the future of Germany, its role in the world, and the German qualification for contributing to international security even with military forces outside the NATO treaty area than German policy-makers assumed.”70 In another example, the British foreign policy expert William Wallace writes, “Germany has again become the natural hegemon, inheriting America’s previous regional stabilizing role.”71 Bregor Schöllgen argues that most Germans in fact grossly underestimated the change in non-German attitudes toward a united Germany’s potential to positively act in the post-Cold War world.72 Similarly, the Federal Republic had become conditioned to its postwar alliance dependency on partner support. As a result, Germans were accustomed to seeing themselves mostly as followers rather than leaders and the objects of decisions in international affairs rather than the decision makers.73 Jeffrey E. Garten argues that postwar Germany, unlike America or Great Britain, also lacked a tradition of undertaking global commitments peacefully, which added to German reticence to do so in the post-Cold War period.74 Thus, at the end of the Cold War the Federal Republic found itself still dependent on partners for leadership. Some have referred to the FRG’s dependency as its “convoy” policy.75 Whatever it is called, however, it is clear that Germany developed a dependency on the ability of others to formulate effective options for its security. The old vulnerabilities relating to Germany’s history and geopolitical position in the middle of Europe also resurfaced in the early 1990s. The coupling of these sensitivities with the new risks of economic collapse, mass migration and ecological disasters in Central and Eastern Europe as well as in a collapsing Soviet Union, led to feelings that the post-Cold War environment was as fraught with danger as the previous Cold War one. Public opinion data suggest that public appreciation for Germany’s new-felt vulnerabilities was far more pronounced than is often realized.76 In addition to these worries, Germany perceived that it was falling behind in the market environment (vis à vis the United States and Japan), while at the same time being saddled with the additional burden of building up its Eastern neighbors more than any other state. Many Germans thus argued that they were already doing more than enough to support peace and stability in the world through, for example, their sound national economy, their gigantic financial burden for the rebuilding of the former German Democratic Republic and their vast amounts of aid sent to Eastern Europe, and that, as a result, they should not have to expend further resources on

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the Gulf War.77 German Foreign Minister Hans-Dietrich Genscher voiced such sentiments himself: Germany made an important contribution to Kuwait’s liberation by facilitating the Soviet Union’s political cooperation with the West . . . we significantly stabilized the situation in Europe through our Eastern policy and contributed to the balance of interests and cooperation with the Soviet Union. Germany’s willingness to support the Soviet Union’s economy facilitated its withdrawal from Central Europe. That move in turn improved the Alliance’s strategic position in regard to security. . . . Without the peaceful political developments in Central Europe that had resulted from the London NATO summit of July 1990 and the agreements made shortly thereafter between the Federal Republic and the Soviet leaders, it is doubtful whether Moscow would have helped to implement the United Nations’ measure against Iraq and the presence of American units in the Gulf.78

Both elite and public opinion influenced party politics and the debate in the Bundestag over whether and under what circumstances German military force could be used for purposes other than the direct defense of Germany’s borders.79 In response to the national public controversy about how the FRG should participate in the Gulf War, political parties in Germany squared off. The Christian Democratic Union and Christian Social Union (CDU/CSU) coalition, led by Chancellor Helmut Kohl, advocated that Germany should be prepared to become involved in a wide range of out-of-area (OOA)80 operations, but only in a strictly multilateral context and not necessarily under a UN mandate. The CDU/CSU did not find that a constitutional change would be required to permit such OOA involvement. Indeed, from the beginning of the Gulf conflict Kohl appeared willing to send troops under a West European Union framework. The governing coalition partner, the Free Democratic Party, adopted the position that participation in OOA missions should only be permitted within a UN framework and only after the constitutional questions of such contributions were answered unequivocally. According to the FDP, this could involve combat missions carried out without direct UN control; however, the missions had to be based on UN Security Council resolutions. The opposition parties, the Social Democrat Party, the Greens and the PDS (the latter being the Partei des Demokratischen Sozialismus, the successor party to the former East German Communist Party), all rejected a possible German OOA role in the Gulf War. To make their point, the Social Democrats filed an injunction with the German Federal Constitutional Court (FCC) against the participation of a German navy destroyer in the NATO and WEU monitoring operation in the Adriatic. Both the Greens and a significant number of SPD parliamentarians also opposed modifying the constitution if the Constitutional Court ruled that the German military could take part in monitoring operations in the Gulf War. However, a few notable SPD party figures, like former state secretary and Willy

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Brandt’s closest foreign policy adviser Egon Bahr, former SPD leader Björn Engholm and SPD foreign-policy spokesman Karsten Voigt, did speak in favor of German involvement in combat missions authorized by the UN Security Council.81

GOVERNMENTAL This level centers on those aspects of a government’s structure and its orientation that limit or enhance the foreign policy choices of decision makers. Structure refers to the organizational configurations within which foreign policy decision making takes place. The governmental institutions in which German foreign policy is made include: the Chancellery, the Federal Foreign Office (Auswärtiges Amt), the Federal Ministry of Defense (Bundesministerium der Verteidigung), the federal president (Bundespräsident), the lower house of the German parliament (Bundestag), the upper house of the German parliament (Bundesrat), the Federal Constitutional Court (Bundesverfassungsgericht) and the German constitution, known as the Basic Law (Grundgesetz). The office of the Chancellery is the most important policy-making structure in the Federal Republic of Germany. Constitutionally, the authorities granted to the chancellor are outlined in Articles 62–69. Article 65 specifically gives the post the authority to determine the guidelines of foreign and domestic policy. The chancellor is also charged by the Basic Law, along with his cabinet, to combine all elements affecting defense policy into one coordinated concept.82 Practically, in the postwar era, the role of the executive branch in the Federal Republic has been one of elevated importance in the making of all policy. As the leader of the German government, the chancellor also has the lion’s share of the responsibility to build domestic support for any proposed initiative. The chancellor even can maintain his position when faced with a strong opposition that commands the majority in the Bundestag.83 Thus, both in practice and in constitutional authority the chancellor’s executive position affords certain advantages over other constitutional bodies in the making of external policy. The chancellor is further aided by the fact that his post has access to more extensive sources of policy-relevant information than other branches of government, nongovernmental organizations and the press through agencies such as the Federal Intelligence Agency (Bundesnachrichtendienst). Insofar as such information furnishes executive officials with exclusive intelligence, it gives them a decided advantage. Another powerful instrument available to the executive is the Office of the Federal Chancellor (Bundeskanzleramt). Over the years the chancellor’s office has grown from a small secretariat into a staff of around 500 who work exclusively for the chancellor. The various departments in the Bundeskanzleramt correspond with other federal ministries and offices and engage in long-range

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planning with them. The chancellor is also served by the federal press secretary (Bundespressechef ) who heads the Federal Press and Information Office (Bundespresse-und Informationsamt),84 which is helpful in keeping ahead of the opposition as its staff of some 700 is also under the chancellor’s direct control. It should be noted, however, that growth in the agencies reporting to the chancellor has not directly led to an increase in his role in policy making; influence instead depends on the chancellor himself and his ability to lead authoritatively. The second most important policy-making structure in the Federal Republic is the Federal Foreign Office, which is responsible for foreign policy implementation. The foreign minister’s powers to influence policy are limited by the fact that he shares responsibilities with other ministries and by the fact that the Chancellery has a strong influence in foreign policy as well.85 Coalition politics provides the most obvious latitude for foreign ministers to influence policy. Since 1966, the leader of the coalition party has always also been foreign minister. As a representative of a separate party, the foreign minister tries to influence policy independently from the chancellor and his party, often seeking to enhance the foreign minister’s public “profile” at the expense of the chancellor’s. In the late 1980s and the early 1990s, Foreign Minister Hans Dietrich Genscher presided over the ministry. Genscher did not have important influence in his first years in the post under Helmut Schmidt but was able to gain substantial authority under Kohl. In general, his long tenure in the foreign minister’s office (it was eighteen years before someone else would fill the seat) enabled him to influence German external affairs in many different ways. However, his immense influence did not always make for clear and timely policy. The federal minister of defense is appointed by the chancellor to head the armed forces and the Bundeswehr Administration (the Bundesministerium der Verteidigung), making the Minister of Defense the supreme administrative authority for all the armed services. In this capacity, he is the most important individual, other than the chancellor, in the planning of security policy in the Federal Republic. All instructions and directives of the Ministry of Defense to the army are also issued by the minister or on his behalf. Thus, both through the planning and conceptualizing of security policy and the manner in which it is implemented, the minister of defense has an influential role in the process of making policy.86 The Basic Law officially entrusts the federal president with the power of representing the federal government in its relations with other governments (granted in Article 59), a largely symbolic role. Despite this limited status, federal presidents have developed means of policy leverage. For example, they can magnify an issue or start a debate by merely focusing their attention on a particular topic in their addresses. Richard von Weizäcker in particular elevated the position to one of high moral authority.

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The Bundestag has more authority than the Bundespräsident. In fact, the Grundgesetz divides decision-making authority in the foreign policy realm between the chancellery and the German parliament. In its scope of power, however, the Federal Republic’s parliamentary system is not like other parliamentary systems in Europe in that the Bundestag has only limited authority to unseat the chancellor and thus to challenge his government’s policies. Although chancellors have little fear of being unseated, they still depend upon a majority backing in parliament to remain effective. Opposition parties have several instruments to wield in their bid to influence policy that include: questions raised at parliamentary hearings, written questions and interpolations, motions of censure against the chancellor, budget discussions, initiation of investigative committees and forced referendums. Of these options, questions were the most frequently used. Indeed, all major parties used these tactics against each other to prevent foreign policies that they did not endorse. Beyond balancing the chancellor’s power in the policy-making process, certain areas that affect foreign affairs also fall within the Bundestag’s specific constitutional stipulations. For example, along with the annual budgetary law, the Bundestag determines the number of military personnel that will be employed in the defense sector, sets out the basic features of the organization of the Bundeswehr and authorizes expenditures for the subsequent financial year. The functions of the Bundestag’s committees also afford it power.87 In effect, committees are the real agents of the parliament that control the Bundeswehr.88 The Bundestag also provided itself in 1957 (in Article 45b of the Basic Law) with a unique instrument for controlling the German military establishment: it created a defense commissioner, or parliamentary ombudsman for the armed services (Wehrbeauftragter des Bundestages), who is in contact with a special committee of Bundestag members. A continuous legal overview was thus guaranteed to the Bundestag. Together with the Joint Committee of twenty-two members of the Bundestag and representatives of each of the Länder, the special committee also has the power to control the government in times of national emergency, especially in security emergencies. As committee membership also reflects the strength of the party Fraktionen in the Bundestag it also often functions as an instrument of parliamentary oversight against the government. Committees further provide an effective forum to coordinate policies with the opposition and/or with disparaging groups within the governing party. Indeed, it is at this level that parliamentary cooperation between government and opposition is more direct and more apt to take place. Below the committee level, study groups are also often formed by parties to augment their party participation and influence in committees. The members of these study groups are often members of the parliamentary committee from which the study group emerged. Party study groups are entrusted with preparing policy

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discussions for committee or plenary sessions, with composing parliamentary inquiries and with working out the basic positions of a Fraktion. As a result, they are also influential in policy formulation. The leaders of Fraktionen in the Bundestag at times take certain initiatives to gain more freedom of action in foreign affairs, particularly when Fraktionen leaders stress their relative independence from the government’s stance on a particular policy issue. Fraktionen leaders, especially if they combine the offices of party chairman and presumed chancellor candidate, often attempt to develop their own role in negotiations with foreign government officials because an international reputation as well as a domestic image of an important player on the world stage can be established. Political stability in Germany is further assured by the division of parliament into two chambers, the second being the upper house of parliament, the Federal Council or the Bundesrat. It is this chamber that provides the Länder representation on the national level. Since German unification the number of Länder has increased from eleven to sixteen. In 1990–91, Karl Kaiser argued that this increase in the number of Länder “complicat[es] Germany’s decision-making process to a degree that is likely to affect its relations with the outside world.”89 While it is too early to tell whether or not this is indeed the case, there are more concrete assertions that can be made about the Bundesrat’s role in foreign affairs. Although the Basic Law stipulates that Federal law shall have precedence over Land law (Article 73), the Basic Law provides the chamber with limited powers in external affairs. For example, the Bundesrat shares power with the Bundestag to pass international treaties dealing with peace settlements and the abolition of an occupation or defense regime, and in cases of emergency, both the Bundestag and the Bundesrat participate in foreign policy decisions. The Basic Law further requires the government to inform the Bundesrat of the conduct of its foreign affairs—to provide continuous and unsolicited information to the chamber about the policies it conducts.90 Other Bundesrat authority in foreign policy is somewhat controversial. This stems from the possibility that Länder governments are controlled by opposition parties. When this happens, and the Bundesrat has a majority comprised of opposition party members, opposition parties attempt to make the Bundesrat a parliamentary chamber equal to that of the Bundestag.91 The Federal Constitutional Court is the guardian of the Basic Law. It is located in Karlsruhe, purposely away from the capital, and consists of two senates of eight judges each. As is the Bundesrat, the Constitutional Court is used by the opposition to obstruct and slow down the passage of treaties and other unendorsed legislation. Opposition parties try to delay passage of a policy or a treaty by instituting legal proceedings (called preventive declaratory judgments) or obtaining court decisions favoring their position (an avoidance petition). The Constitutional Court can be used in this

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manner because, according to Article 93, “The Federal Constitutional Court shall decide . . . in the case of differences of opinion of doubts on the formal and material compatibility of Federal law or Land law with this Basic Law . . . at the request of the Federal Government, of a Land government, or of one third of the Bundestag members.” Through its use in such cases, the Constitutional Court has become an important institution for foreign policy. A comparison of the Court’s legal decisions reveals important changes that can be described as a transition from the principle of judicial self-restraint to judicial activism.92 In the 1990–91 debate over the Bundeswehr’s possible OOA role, the Federal Constitutional Court proved to be an important entity. This was the case because it allowed a more public and more thorough discussion on the German military’s role in collective defense structures. Finally, the Basic Law, the Federal Republic’s constitution, should be included in any discussion of governmental structure. Indeed, during the Gulf War, the Grundgesetz set the parameters of the German military’s utilization within the NATO context.93 However, it is important to note that limitations on the German military have always been predominantly moral rather than legal. During the Cold War, the scope for German military operations was conservatively interpreted to be restricted to those obligations appearing in the North Atlantic Treaty. “Beyond this,” Simon Duke writes, “assistance could only be given to an alliance partner if facilities or property belonging to the Federal Republic were threatened or attacked.”94 This interpretation was never subjected to a ruling by the Federal Constitutional Court in the postwar era, meaning that in reality no legal stipulations existed to prevent the Bundeswehr from participating in NATO out-of-area operations. In addition to the lack of legal precepts, if one considers the whole of the Basic Law one finds that Article 24, paragraph 2, grants the Federal Republic the authority to transfer sovereign power to intergovernmental institutions, in addition to allowing it to enter into a system of collective security. Liberal interpretation of these two allocations of power opens up the possibility that Bundeswehr troops could participate in out-of-area missions. As Karl-Heniz Kamp observed in 1993, If the Basic Law allows the Federal Republic to join a system of mutual collective security, it must also be possible to take on all the obligations resulting from such a membership. This includes military and non-military duties. . . . Whether one comes to a more restrictive or a more permissive reading depends on which Article in the Basic Law is emphasized in a legal interpretation. It is this very ambiguity which has provoked a great deal of the inner-German dispute on the future role of the armed forces.95

The Gulf War proved to be the key factor in reinvigorating the debate (which has been an issue since the formation of postwar German armed forces) on which article in the Basic Law to emphasize in legal interpreta-

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tions. This was the case because the Gulf War was the first conflict in some forty-plus years in which the overarching considerations of the rivalry between East and West did not take precedence. Before considering the next level, a look at Germany’s national interest is in order. How do defined national interests affect decision makers’ choices, within their institutions or otherwise? The German debate on national interests included Germany’s future economic as well as its security concerns and the shape and scope of post-Cold War German economic and foreign affairs. However, because of the high profile status (even headline-grabbing ability, as Gunther Hellmann argues) of the German OOA peacekeeping dispute, some—like the Rand scholar Ronald Asmus—argued that it was “the primary vehicle through which Germans [were] seeking to sort out definitions of national interests.”96 Asmus writes: “Peacekeeping has been at the center of [the overall debate redefining German security policy for the post-Cold War era]. In the immediate wake of the collapse of communism, it emerged as the key venue through which Germans started to define a new strategic and military role beyond territorial defense. . . . At the same time, it was also clear that the peacekeeping issue was part of a much broader political struggle over defining the future shape and scope of post-Cold War German foreign and security policy.”97 Although the peacekeeping debate did indeed force many ordinary Germans to start thinking about German foreign policy problems, the question concerning Germany’s future orientation, as Gunther Hellmann argues, was a more fundamental issue. The question on orientation does not only include the consideration of moral platitudes on whether or not Germany should help with peacekeeping missions because it is fair to its allies and disadvantaged neighbors to do so, it also considers what is beneficial for Germany. The Federal Republic’s first interest after the Cold War’s end, and what it believed was economically, politically and socially beneficial, was the maintenance of a stable international system that allowed it as much free trade as possible. Central to this concept was stability for all of Europe, which included a stable eastern border. In ensuring that this interest was fulfilled, Germans realized that working unilaterally was nonproductive. A combined effort by mutually benefiting countries was more applicable to such a goal. As Peter Schmidt observes, Despite all the foreign talk about the new German ‘self-assertiveness,’ and official declarations that Germany had to carry more responsibilities in international affairs, Bonn continued to believe in the necessity of strong Western bonds within the major Western frameworks, the European Community and NATO, as a precondition to overcoming the problems in Central and Eastern Europe which have been perceived of as on too big a scale to be addressed in a more or less unilateral way.98

A multilateral orientation was also important because many of Germany’s neighbors needed reassurance that revanchist tendencies would be con-

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tained by strong alliances. Thus, Germany’s national interests lay in a multilateral approach to making and implementing foreign policy, which included as an integral component a strong, even “special,” relationship with the United States. The Federal Republic’s second interest after the end of the Cold War was to begin to assert itself as a “normal state,” meaning it wanted to conduct its post-unification relations in the same way as its colleagues France and Great Britain. For example, the FRG believed it was high time that it was admitted to the United Nations Security Council. This second interest immediately created conundrums for Germany, especially once the Gulf War started. Mindful of its overly nationalist past, Germany found it difficult to express this newfound sovereignty in ways it (and its neighbors) felt comfortable with (not to mention the fact in ways that the majority of the German public would not strongly protest). As became apparent with its first goal, Germans realized that their political objectives were best expressed within a multilateral context and that the process of “normalization” should be conducted in concert with their European and transatlantic partners. This choice was not without its own conundrums. As Helga Haftendorn points out, “Germany [was] confronted with the dilemma that it wishes, on the one hand, to preserve NATO as an Atlantic security community—as a basis for common values and interests—and, on the other, to empower the European Political Union’s authority in foreign and security policy.”99 Thus, by trying to please both partners, who did not always share each other’s views or objectives, the process of normalization meant that Germany often found itself on the fence.

ROLES This level recognizes that the roles individual decision makers fill heavily affect their decision making. All individuals have the responsibility to look out for the interests of their institution, and thus individual action is shaped by institutional settings. Moreover, all decision makers who occupy a role, irrespective of their idiosyncrasies, are subject to the same constraints, formal obligations and informal expectations of that particular role. In his capacity as chancellor, Helmut Kohl professed to model himself after Konrad Adenauer, the staunchly pro-Western and NATO-committed first chancellor of the Federal Republic. Kohl asserted that he interpreted his role to be a reassuring but dependable and responsible leader. “According to Kohl, it is vital for a statesman to know the difference between a seismograph and a compass, between populist rhetoric and responsible politics. The job of the statesman is to make the right decision, even if it is unpopular.”100 However, in the Gulf War, Kohl’s views were constrained by regard for street protesters and domestic issues. For instance, the massive peace demonstrations in January 1991 prompted

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Kohl to urge U.S. President Bush to use more caution against Saddam Hussein. Kohl further weakly appealed to the protesters to not damage Germany’s image abroad. Hanns Maull called Kohl’s inability to counterbalance domestic pressures “parochialism.” Maull argued the domestic demands on resources prompted leaders in Germany to continue the postwar policy of constraint not because of the traumas of the Nazi past but because of a preoccupation with the present.101 Bregor Schöllgen, professor of modern and contemporary history at Erlangen, argues that U.S. condemnation of Germany was directly linked to Kohl’s ineffective leadership, particularly in January and February 1991, when the ground war against Iraq began. Schöllgen writes, There was no dispute about the fact, in the political circumstances, and in view of the provisions of the German Basic Law, no German army units could be dispatched to join the allied coalition, in other words, to take part in military operations outside the NATO area. However, the fact that leading exponents of German policy had nothing to say, temporarily leaving the international image of the Republic in the hands of a noisy minority which was critical of the allies, was surprising and indeed damaging to Germany.102

Foreign Minister Genscher was another of the leading exponents of German policy who temporarily had nothing to say. Moreover, what Genscher did say enhanced the view that the FRG was denying its strengths as well as its debt to its allies when it refused to send soldiers to help in the military operations against Iraq and delayed in supporting the allied coalition that did send military personnel. This was the case because Genscher believed his paramount task was to acquire the best possible room for maneuver for the Federal Republic within the bipolar system—playing a modern version of Germany’s Schaukelpolitik or the tendency to float between East and West. As Genscher himself attests, “Prudence in foreign policy and a clear endorsement of the policy of the Western Alliance, with consideration of the Soviet Union’s basic needs—these were our guidelines.”103 He was very adept at following these guidelines. “Genscher was the master tactician,” asserts Josef Joffe, “—so much so that Richard Burt, the U.S. ambassador in the early 1980s, would end up calling him a ‘slippery man.’ The compliment was hardly misplaced, for Genscher was indeed hard to pin down. What did he want, and where did he want to take his country? From his rhetoric, it was usually impossible to tell.”104 This slipperiness led to the labeling of his brand of Ostpolitik as Genscherism. Although Genscherism evoked a positive response from the smaller European countries, larger European neighbors, especially Great Britain along with the U.S., were exasperated by it. Joffe again: “Genscher sought to keep a separate détente alive, one that would shelter the East German-West German relationship and subtly—never disloyally—propitiate the Soviet Union. . . . By leaning ever so

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slightly toward Moscow in the name of peace, détente, and ‘responsibility,’ Bonn could acquire leverage over Western policy and garner IOUs in the Kremlin.”105 Former U.S. Secretary of Defense Casper Weinberger simply described Genscherism as “sort of encourag[ing] the Soviets to think they could win.”106 Genscherism contributed to the schizophrenic impression by emphasizing the dangers of hasty action in the Gulf on Soviet domestic politics. Genscher writes in his memoirs, “By [December 1990] the public increasingly demanded our actual military participation in the Gulf coalition. Yet even aside from constitutional qualms, we had to bear in mind the fact that the Two Plus Four Treaty had not yet been ratified by Moscow, and we were therefore well advised to take the Soviet Union’s domestic situation into account.”107 Genscher even went so far as to point out that Iraq had been “close to Moscow for decades” and that “large segments of the Iraqi army” were equipped and trained by some 8,000 Soviet advisers still stationed in Iraq at the time of the invasion on Kuwait.108 As foreign minister, Genscher did not want the Federal Republic to take part in the military deployments against Iraq.

INDIVIDUALS This level focuses on various aspects of individual occupants of major roles in making foreign policy. As the last level made clear, the role that a decision maker occupies greatly influences policy decision; however, individuals bring particular aspects to a post that can allow them to deviate from a defined role. Indeed, a strong-willed person may redefine a role/position for future occupants. Influencing aspects include: values, prior experiences, education and socialization, and personality traits or physical health. One caveat should be made, however. Explanations at this level are difficult to make. As discussed in the previous two levels, Helmut Kohl was an important individual in the FRG’s foreign affairs during the Gulf War. This was the case not only because he was chancellor but also because, as the “chancellor of unification” and the man sitting at the helm while his nation-state went from economic prominence to European dominance, he enjoyed considerable prestige. This was especially true at the beginning of the Gulf War, when Kohl was riding high in opinion polls and was still viewed as the man who had seized the moment to unify Germany.109 Furthermore, Kohl had a good personal, even close, relationship with U.S. President George Bush. He also had complete control of his own party, to the point that his authority was not questioned under any circumstances (which would later be his downfall). His character, or indeed the underestimation of it, also had much to do with his success as a politician. From the very beginning of his career (he started out as Adenauer’s protege in the newly founded CDU in 1946 and went on to become chairman of the CDU in 1973

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and leader of the opposition in parliament in 1976), rivals and the German press viewed him as a provincial bumpkin. But this folksy, dependable image proved to be an asset throughout his long political career. As a foreign minister who preceded the Kohl administration and who himself enjoyed tremendous public popularity (for years he was the most popular politician in the FRG), Hans-Dietrich Genscher also heavily influenced foreign policy with his own views, which were overwhelmingly focused on bringing a closure to the East-West rivalry. When the Gulf War broke out, Genscher was more anxious about the Two Plus Four talks on German unification than about the invasion itself. “German concerns centered on the unification process,” Genscher writes, “which had entered its crucial phase in the summer of 1990. . . . My first thought after Iraq’s attack was therefore directed to the possible effects of this event on the relationship between the West and the Soviet Union, which was crucial to German unification. How could the Federal Republic support the interest of the international community of nations in the Persian Gulf?”110 Genscher’s concerns for jeopardizing the Two Plus Four Treaty (which had yet to be ratified by the Soviet parliament) extended to the Soviet Union’s domestic politics and especially Gorbachev’s own political standing. Genscher believed that Gorbachev’s fate (and thus that of perestroika) could be further endangered by Germany’s contribution of Bundeswehr troops to the Gulf effort. Moreover, Genscher was personally critical of U.S. reaction to Saddam Hussein’s invasion of Kuwait. In his memoirs Genscher writes, No doubt our most important allies were more surprised than we were. For us, this new aggression fit in with the image of the Iraqi government’s policies, which strive for hegemony in the region. Some of our important allies, however, had supported Saddam Hussein’s regime for years with arms shipments, because they saw it as a bulwark against the Ayatollah’s regime in Tehran, which they regarded as more dangerous.111

The thinly veiled “some of our important allies” makes clear how Genscher viewed the opportunities given to the FRG chiefly by the United States to increase Germany’s part in the maintenance of stability in the Middle East. Other individuals who should also be mentioned include several persons from the opposition, for example, the more left-leaning SPD party deputy chairwoman Heidi Wieczorek-Zeul and the leftist SPD Saarland Premier (and chancellor candidate) Oskar Lafontaine. In general, SPD party members voiced their opposition to a greater Bundeswehr role in out-of-area missions. Exceptions, as already mentioned, were Social Democrats Egon Bahr, Björn Engholm and Karsten Voigt. Individuals from the Greens, such as Joschka Fischer, were constructive in organizing the protests against German involvement in the Gulf War. It should be pointed out, however, that after Iraqi Scud missiles began falling on Israelis, the Greens split into two factions. Fischer and others, who advocated action against the “immoral” actions of Saddam

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Hussein, came to be known as the “Realos,” while more traditionally inclined leftists became known as the “Fundis.” A number of television commentators, newspapers columnists and foreign policy analysts were also influential. Those who were earlier classified as pragmatic multilateralists, like Michael Stürmer, Helga Haftendorn and Karl Kaiser, were especially persuasive in the policy-making process because of their links with the governing CDU/CSU parties. CONCLUSION The Gulf War highlighted the contradictions in the opportunities open to the FRG, as well as the international expectations regarding them, and Germany’s willingness to avail itself of these opportunities. Figure 2.1 is a schematic representation of the whole German policy-making process during the Gulf War, including policy implementation and behavior. Although the Federal Republic emerged as one of the strongest economic and military powers in the international system at the end of the Cold War, when the Gulf War started the United States was in the midst of its “unipolar moment.”112 Moreover, despite the fact that Germany was the strongest economic power in Europe, France preferred to be Europe’s political leader while Great Britain preferred to lead Europe on military matters. Still, the end of the bipolar conflict left an inadequate or nonexistent security structure in Central and Eastern Europe, which Germany had an incentive to fill. German military capabilities were also of questionable utility because of a lack of deployment capacity and the absence of command and control structures to coordinate joint operations on any scale. Thus, the realities of the post-Cold War international system were both favorable and adverse to German opportunities to assume a greater role in managing international security. In the international relations decision-making environment the opportunities open to German decision-making entities were no clearer. The United States viewed the Gulf War as an opportunity for the Federal Republic to begin taking on political and military roles equal to its economic ones. When high U.S. expectations went unrealized, Washington severely criticized the Germans. U.S. condemnation pushed Germany to increase its financial contribution to $12 billion while continued American pressure led to eventual Bundeswehr deployment to the region after the Gulf War ended. Ultimately, seven German navy ships helped in mine sweeping operations in the Persian Gulf, medical personnel deployed a hospital and the Luftwaffe airlifted relief supplies to Turkey and Iran for Kurdish and Shiite refugees. Overall, U.S.-FRG relations created opportunities for Germany. However, the Federal Republic’s willingness to assume greater burdens in the maintenance of international stability was off-set by many constraints, which included limited military capabilities and a general dependency on partners’ support.

Figure 2.1 The Federal Republic of Germany’s foreign and security policy-making process during the Gulf War.

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The Federal Republic’s relations with France and Great Britain also confounded decision makers’ opportunities. Although there were many demands that the FRG take on its fair share of the risks involved in maintaining stability in the region and beyond, fears of a reemergence of German militarism also produced relief that Germany remained in the background. France also downplayed the FRG’s role as a political and military leader because it wished to assume that role itself, and although Great Britain was quite happy to allow the FRG to assume more diplomatic and economic leadership, it did not want to hand over any significant military initiative to Germany. For its part, the Soviet Union looked to the FRG to insure that it was not isolated within Europe (holding the bargaining chips of 380,000 Red Army troops stationed on former GDR soil, four-power treaty rights over Germany and the threat of stalling arms control talks). Bonn, in turn, considered the Soviet Union’s stability as essential to overall security in Central and Eastern Europe and therefore made the fostering of good relations (on many levels) with the Soviets a high foreign policy agenda item. The societal pressures on policy makers during the Gulf War were also discordant. For the most part elites held an affirmative view on whether the Federal Republic should assume an enhanced role, with the possible exception of the europeanists. The pragmatic multilateralists, in particular, accepted the notion that the FRG’s international responsibility had increased since the end of the Cold War. However, the general public was wholeheartedly against the FRG taking on more responsibilities in the maintenance of international stability, being especially against the use of the German military in the Gulf War. Several reasons for the public’s disapproval of German involvement in the Gulf War were discussed, among them an abhorrence for power politics and an acclimatization to seeing Germany as a follower in foreign and security affairs and not a leader. As for political parties, the debate in the Bundestag on whether to contribute troops to the Gulf War was divided largely along party lines. The CDU/CSU coalition advocated that the Federal Republic should become a “normal” nation-state, like France and Great Britain (i.e., be prepared to become involved in out-of-area missions beyond the scope of financial support) and that Germany should be an integral component, if not the leading one, in regional security schemes. The FDP adopted the position that participation in regional security structures should be within multilateral frameworks, while participation in OOA missions should be permitted only within a UN framework and only after the constitutional questions of such contributions were unequivocally answered. The SPD, die Grünen and the PDS, for the most part, rejected a possible enhanced political and security role as well as the possible contribution of German soldiers to such OOA missions as the Gulf War. Strong opposition in the Bundestag meant that it was only under strong pressure from the United

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States that Chancellor Kohl managed a largely symbolic deployment of eighteen Alpha jets and more than 200 troops to help defend NATO ally Turkey.113 Kohl also turned to the WEU as a framework for German minesweeping participation, but not until after the Gulf War ended. Using the WEU proved not to be ideal, however, as it did not represent “a well-established framework of collective defense, necessary according to the government’s interpretation of the Basic Law to legitimize the use of German military forces outside Germany or the NATO area.”114 After the fighting ended, Bundeswehr helicopters also flew in support missions for Kurdish refugees in Turkey and Iran. Defined national interests served to add to decision makers’ confusion. This was because, although it was generally thought that the Federal Republic’s national interests lay in a multilateral, Western approach to making and implementing foreign and security policy, it nevertheless chose not to step in line with its Western partners’ Gulf War policies and was unable to placate an especially important Western ally, the United States. In some respects the Federal Republic of Germany revealed its “ultimate disloyalty.” In the immediate post-Cold War era, Germany also wanted to begin to define its national interests in the same manner that normal states do. However, the Federal Republic’s desire for normalization within the context of its European and transatlantic partnerships meant it often found itself sitting on the fence between divergent EC and U.S. objectives. Defined national interests thus were at cross purposes. In consideration of the levels roles and individuals, Chancellor Kohl had by far the most influence, followed by his foreign minister, Hans-Dietrich Genscher. Although Kohl supported the United States’ initiative in the Gulf, it was also clear that his willingness to become involved in events in the Middle East were less strong than his willingness to focus on issues closer to home. Unification and the stabilization of good relations with Germany’s eastern neighbors were compelling challenges for Kohl to address. As a result, his incentives to make use of the opportunities presented to Germany were diminished. For his part, Genscher stuck to his postwar preoccupation with the Soviet Union. Genscher was specifically concerned that domestic turmoil in the Soviet Union would endanger passage of the Two Plus Four Treaty on German unification and threaten the treaty on the evacuation of Soviet troops from the former GDR. As a result, Genscher’s own willingness to avail himself of the opportunities presented to the Federal Republic at the Cold War’s end was eclipsed by his interests in cordial German-Soviet relations and his perceptions of an unwise policy of American support for Saddam Hussein’s regime prior to its attack on Kuwait.

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NOTES 1. Franz-Josef Meiers. 1995. “Germany: The Reluctant Power.” Survival 37(3): 83. 2. The name “Two Plus Four Treaty” was derived from the negotiation participants: the two Germanys plus Britain, France, the Soviet Union and the United States. The latter four being the victorious powers in WWII. The Four Powers suspended their rights and responsibilities in a declaration signed in New York, 1 October 1990. The Two Plus Four idea was launched at a NATO meeting in Ottawa, 13 February 1990. 3. Robert W. Tucker. 1990. “1989 and All That.” Foreign Affairs 69(4): 97. 4. For Germany sovereignty was formally returned with the ratification, on 15 March 1991, of the Treaty of Moscow. 5. Letter written by Chancellor Helmut Kohl, Bonn, 3 October 1990; see “Documents on unification,” Adam Daniel Rotfeld and Walther Stützle. 1991. Germany and Europe in Transition. SIPRI/Oxford University Press. pp. 187–189. 6. Karl Kaiser. 1990–91. “Germany’s Unification.” Foreign Affairs 70(1):205. 7. See Michael O’Hanlon. 1997. “Transforming NATO: The Role of European Forces.” Survival 39(3): 5–15 for an analysis on the inability of European NATO members in general to deploy and operate significant military forces beyond their borders without the help of the United States. 8. Simon Duke. 1994. The New European Security Disorder. New York: St. Martin’s. p. 155. 9. Hanns W. Maull. 1995. “A German Perspective.” In Multilateralism and Western Strategy, ed. Michael Brenner. New York: St. Martin’s. pp. 47, 63. 10. Ibid. p. 188. Andrei S. Markovits and Simon Reich disagree: “It is striking that the American image of Germany more or less corresponds to that held by Germany’s neighbors.” See Markovits and Reich. 1997. The German Predicament. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. p. 72 11. David Calleo. 1987. Beyond American Hegemony: The Future of the Western Alliance. New York: Basic Books, and; Paul Kennedy. 1988. The Rise and Fall of the Great Powers: Economic Change and Military Conflict from 1500 to 2000. New York: Random House. 12. Byrd and Kissinger as cited in Peter H. Merkl. 1993. German Unification in the European Context. University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press. p. 21. 13. Robert D. Hormats. 1992. “Patterns of Competition.” In From Occupation to Cooperation: The United States and United Germany in a Changing World Order, ed. Steven Muller and Gebhard Schweigler. New York: Norton. p. 183. 14. David Schoenbaum and Elizabeth Pond. 1996. The German Question and Other German Questions. New York: St. Martin’s. p. 188. 15. See Elizabeth Pond. 1999. The Rebirth of Europe. Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution Press. p. 41. 16. Max Jakobson. 1995. “Collective Security in Europe Today.” The Washington Quarterly 18(2): 67. 17. A more recent example of this is French President Jacques Chirac’s offer to come back into NATO’s military command on condition that the Europeans (i.e., the French) get more of a leadership role, or namely NATO’s southern command.

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18. See Jane M. O. Sharp. ed. 1990. Europe After an American Withdrawal. SIPRI/Oxford: Oxford University Press, for an immediate post-Cold War analysis of growing European interests in acquiring more defense autonomy from the United States. At that time, many speculated on the imminent draw down of American forces in Europe and the possible replacement of NATO with more pan-European security institutions. 19. The United States was very critical of the FRG’s advances on a European security and defense identity (ESDI) through the Franco-German initiative, the Eurocorps. See Johannes Bohnen. 1997. “Germany.” The European Union and National Defense Policy, ed. Jolyon Howorth and Anand Menon. New York: Routledge. p. 51, and; Andrew Denison. 1993. “Amerika und das Eurokorps.” Europäische Sicherheit 3. 20. The Western European Union has twenty-eight states as members. Its task, as outlined in the 1991 Maastricht Treaty on European Union, is to elaborate and implement the defense-related decisions and actions of the EU. 21. See David Law and Michael Rühle. 1992. “Die NATO und das ‘Out-of-area’ Problem.” Europa-Archiv 15–16: 439–444. 22. Among them Margaret Thatcher, Norman Tebbit and Thatcher’s Trade Secretary Nicholas Ridley. Ridley’s 14 July 1990 interview with The Spectator was especially anti-German and as a result he was forced to resign. Ridley had been one of Thatcher’s closest advisors in the Cabinet. 23. Margaret Thatcher. 1993. The Downing Street Years. New York: Harper Collins. p. 769. 24. British Public Opinion, August 1990, cited in Christopher Hill. 1996. “The United Kingdom and Germany.” In Germany in Europe in the Nineties, ed. Bertel Heurlin. New York: St. Martin’s. pp. 223, 229. 25. Thatcher cited in Hill. 1996. p. 223. 26. Anthony Glees. 1993. “The British and the Germans: From Enemies to Partners.” In The Germans and Their Neighbors, ed. Dirk Verheyen and Christian Søe. Boulder: Westview Press. p. 51. 27. Angela E. Stent. 1999. Russia and Germany Reborn. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. p. 111. 28. Kaiser. 1990–91. p. 197. 29. Bregor Schöllgen. 1993. “Putting Germany’s Post-Unification Foreign Policy to the Test.” NATO Review 41(2): 18. 30. Ibid. 31. Ibid. 32. Stent. 1999. pp. 75, 110. 33. For example, the Germans gave $53.6 billion in aid and credits to Russia between 1990 and 1993 out of a total of $113.9 billion in Western aid to Russia. See Yuriy Davydov. 1997. “Russian security and East-Central Europe.” In Russia and Europe: The Emerging Security Agenda, ed. Vladimir Baranovsky. SIPRI/Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 373. 34. Stent. 1999. p. xi. 35. For an analysis of the internal conditions of the Soviet Union in the late 1980s and early 1990s, see Richard Pipes. 1990–91. “The Soviet Union Adrift.” Foreign Affairs 70(1): 70–87.

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36. Coit D. Blacker. 1990–91. “The Collapse of Soviet Power in Europe.” Foreign Affairs 70(1): 88, 89. 37. Gunther Hellmann. 1996. “Goodbye Bismarck? The Foreign Policy of Contemporary Germany.” Mershon International Studies Review 40: 1–30. 38. See, for example, Michael Stürmer. 1994. “Deutsche Interessen.” In Deutschlands neue Außenpolitik, ed. Karl Kaiser and Hanns W. Maull. München: Oldenburg, and; Stürmer. 1995. “Wohin die Bundeswehr? Über Diplomatie, Strategie und Bündnistreue.” Internationale Politik 50(April): 30–37. 39. See, for example, Helga Haftendorn. 1994. “Gulliver in der Mitte Europas. Internationale Verflechtung und nationale Handlungsmöglichkeiten.” In Deutschlands neue Außenpolitik, and; Haftendorn. 1996. “Gulliver in the Centre of Europe.” In Germany in Europe in the Nineties, ed. Bertel Heurlin. New York: St. Martin’s. 40. See, for example, Karl Kaiser. 1994. “Das vereinigte Deutschlands in der internationalen Politik.” In Deutschlands neue Außenpolitik, and; Kaiser. 1992. “Patterns of Partnership.” In From Occupation to Cooperation: The United States and United Germany in a Changing World Order, ed. Steven Muller and Gebhard Schweigler. New York: Norton. 41. See, for example, Werner Weidenfeld. 1995. Mittel und Osteuropa auf den Weg in die Europäische Union. . . . Gütersloh: Bertelsmann, and; Weidenfeld. 1993. Eastern Europe: Challenges, Problems, Strategies. Gütersloh: Bertelsmann. 42. See, for example, Werner Link. 1992. “Kooperative Machtbalance und europäische Föderation als außenpolitische Orientierung.” In Sicherheitspolitik Deutschlands: Neue Konstellationen, Risiken, Instrumente, ed. Wolfgang Heydrich et al. Baden-Baden: Nomos, and; Link 1993. “Deutschlands europäische Handlungsmaxime.” Die politische Meinung 38(November): 49–56. 43. See, for example, Helmut Schmidt. 1995. “Europa und die Deutschen in einer sich ändernden Welt.” Internationale Politik 2(January): 5–14. 44. Gunther Hellmann. 1996. p. 8. 45. See, for example, Hans-Peter Schwarz. 1994. “Das deutsche Dilemma.” In Deutschlands neue Außenpolitik, ed. Karl Kaiser and Hanns W. Maull. München: Oldenburg. 46. See, for example, Jürgen von Alten. 1994. Die ganz normale Anarchie: Jetzt beginnt die Nachkriegszeit. Berlin: Siedler. 47. Ibid. pp. 322–323, as cited in Hellmann. 1996. p. 11. 48. Ibid. 49. See, for example, Maull. 1995; Maull. 1990–91. “Germany and Japan: The New Civilian Powers.” Foreign Affairs 69(5): 91–107; Maull. 1995–96. “Germany in the Yugoslav Crisis.” Survival 37(4): 99–130, and; Maull. 1994. “Japan und Deutschland: Die neuen Großmächte?” Europa-Archiv 21: 603–610. 50. See, for example, Jürgen Habermas. 1990. Die nachholende Revolution. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp. 51. See, for example, Joschka Fischer. 1994. Risiko Deutschland: Krise und Zukunft der deutschen Politik. Köln: Kiepenheuer und Witsch. 52. Hellmann. 1996. p. 14. 53. Jacob Heilbrunn. 1996. “Germany’s New Right.” Foreign Affairs 75(6): 80–98. 54. Hellmann. 1996. p. 18.

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55. For an extensive analysis of German opinion poll data on Germany’s world roles see Ronald D. Asmus. 1995b. Germany’s Geopolitical Maturation: Public Opinion and Security Policy in 1994. Santa Monica: Rand. 56. Hellmann. 1996. p. 18. 57. Ronald D. Asmus. 1992. Germany in Transition: National Self-Confidence and International Reticence. Santa Monica: Rand. 58. See Andrei S. Markovits and Simon Reich, 1997, for a discussion on German “collective memory” and how it inhibits Germany. 59. Asmus. 1995b. 60. Hans-Peter Schwarz originally coined the term Machtvergessenheit. See his 1985 Die gezähmten Deutschen. Von der Machtbessenheit zur Machtvergessenheit. Stuttgart: Deutsche Verlag-Anstalt. 61. Regina Karp. 1999. “The Sovereignty Issue in German Foreign and Security Policy.” Presented at the annual meeting of the International Studies Association, Washington, D.C. 62. Quoted in Meiers. 1995. p. 82. 63. Johannes Gross as cited in Michael Mertes. 1994. “Germany’s Social and Political Culture: Change Through Consensus?” Daedalus 123(1): 18. 64. Markovits and Reich. 1997. p. xii. 65. David Marsh. 1994. Germany and Europe: The Crisis of Unity. London: Heinemann. p. 176. 66. Ian Buruma. 1995. The Wages of Guilt. New York: Meridian. p. 39. 67. Schöllgen. 1993. pp. 16–17. 68. Mertes. 1994. p. 17. 69. Michael Kreile makes a similar argument in his 1996 article “Will Germany Assume a leadership Role?” In Germany in Europe in the Nineties, ed. Bertel Heurlin. New York: St. Martin’s. See also, Franz-Josef Meiers. 1996. “Germany’s ‘Out-of-Area’ Dilemma.” In Force, Statecraft and German Unity: The Struggle to Adapt Institutions and Practices, ed. Thomas-Durell Young. Strategic Studies Institute Publications. Carlisle, PA: U.S. Army War College. 70. Lothar Ruehl. 1992. “Limits of Leadership: Germany.” In From Occupation to Cooperation: The United States and United Germany in a Changing World Order, ed. Steven Muller and Gebhard Schweigler. New York: Norton. p. 106. 71. William Wallace. 1995. “Germany as Europe’s leading power.” The World Today (August-September). p. 162. 72. See Schöllgen. 1993. p. 19, and; Hellmann, 1996, for further arguments on the differences between German and non-German expert opinion on German potential regional roles. 73. Bertram. 1992. pp. 49–50. 74. The same observation can also be made of Japan. See Garten. 1993. A Cold Peace. New York Times Books. pp. 37, 195. 75. See Peter Viggo Jakobsen. 1995. “Myth-making and Germany’s Unilateral Recognition of Croatia and Slovenia.” European Security 4(3): 402. 76. Asmus. 1995b. 77. Such sentiments are still very much in play. Speaking at a Bundeswehr Commanders’ Conference in Hamburg, in November 1999, Chancellor Gerhard Schröder said, “I hear upon occasion that we have to increase our defense budget because many of our NATO partners spend far more on their preventive security

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then Germany does and that Germany comes in last when its defense budget is compared with those of its NATO partners. Ladies and gentlemen! In response to this, I first have to point out that using the level of defense spending as the sole yardstick for measuring what a nation spends on preventive security falls far short of the mark. Preventive security and stability entail more than just military components. I would like to recall in this context Germany’s enormous expenditures in connection with disbanding the National People’s Army, the withdrawal of the Russian troops, and the construction of housing for Russian soldiers in their homeland. Was this not a fundamental contribution to Europe’s stability and security? Have we not taken in hundreds of thousands of refugees from Bosnia-Herzegovina and Kosovo in Germany?” See speech given by Chancellor Gerhard Schröder at the 37th Bundeswehr Commanders’ Conference in Hamburg in November 1999, Press release, 3 December 1999, German Federal Foreign Office, Berlin. 78. Hans-Dietrich Genscher. 1998. Rebuilding a House Divided. New York: Broadway. p. 483. 79. A related influencing factor of the German foreign policy process was the activities of the German political foundations or Stiftungen. The CDU’s Konrad Adenauer Foundation, the SPD’s Friedrich Ebert Foundation, the FDP’s Friedrich Naumann Foundation, the CSU’s Hanns Seidel Foundation and the Green’s Heinrich Böll Foundation all exerted some influence in foreign policy. However, as they basically serve the interests of the parties that govern them, a separate analysis of their impact and influence will not be made here. For such an analysis see Sebastian Bartsch. 1997. “The German political foundation’s foreign policy: Of what is it an instance?” Presented at the 38th Annual Convention of the International Studies Association, Toronto. 80. Article 6 of the North Atlantic Treaty stipulates the NATO area. 81. See Voigt. 1996. “German Interest in Multilateralism.” Aussenpolitik 47(2): 107–116, and; Voigt. 1995. Plädoyer für eine zivile NATO.” Internationale Politik 12: 15–20. See also Duke. 1994. p. 148. 82. In his task of coordinating security policy matters, the Federal chancellor has at his disposal the Federal Security Council, a cabinet level committee that discusses interministeral options related to security policy. In some areas, such as arms exports or equipment aid, the Federal Security Council can make final decisions without the chancellor. 83. This stems from the fact that under the constitutional provision for the so-called “constructive vote of no-confidence” the chancellor may not be removed unless the no-confidence vote is accompanied by the election of a successor by a majority of the members of the Bundestag. This has happened only once, in 1982, when Kohl ascended to the chancellor’s position. See Donald P. Kommers. 1984. “Chancellor, Cabinet and President.” In Politics and Government in the Federal Republic of Germany, Basic Documents. C.C. Schweitzer et al. New York: St. Martin’s. p. 50. 84. Paragraph number 332 of the Federal Republic of Germany’s 1985 White Paper reads, “The purpose of the press and public information activities of the Federal Government is to explain the security policy pursued by the Federal Government, to promote understanding of both the mission of the armed forces and the significance of the North Atlantic Alliance, and to supply correct information

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on specific questions to enable the citizens to make well-founded judgments.” White Paper 1985, The Situation and the Development of the Federal Armed Forces. The Federal Minister of Defense. 85. On the other hand, although the Basic Law gives the Chancellery substantial control over executive policy making, the chancellor’s powers over his ministries are not nearly as vast as those of the American and French presidents’ authority over their ministries. In addition, under procedural rules the chancellor cannot compel a department head to follow a specific course, nor can he bypass the authority of a minister who will not cooperate. 86. In his task he is aided by five military staffs that deal directly with the various branches of the armed services on a day-to-day basis: the armed forces staff, the army, the air force and the navy staffs and the Office of the Surgeon General. The Ministry of Defense also has its own information and press office as well as an organization office and a planning office. 87. The committees on Foreign Affairs and Defense, both constitutionally created in 1956 (Article 45a of the Basic Law), handle security matters passed to them from the plenary session. Both could also convene in the interim between legislative terms to continue their work, thus allowing the committee’s power to supersede that of the parliament’s. 88. A large number of other Bundestag committees are also involved in shaping and controlling security and defense policy matters, such as the defense committee, the interior affairs committee, the budget committee and the foreign affairs committee. 89. Kaiser. 1990–91. p. 205. 90. Article 2, Treaties of Rome, 27 July 1957. The Bundesrat foreign affairs committee, which is made up of Länder minister-presidents, can request a government representative to provide this information. However, in practice, this requirement to keep the Bundesrat informed has been handled in different ways by different chancellors according to the matters involved. For example, Adenauer attempted to bypass them by keeping information at a trickle, while at the same time using his exclusive information sources to work toward his own goals. When the Social-Liberal government was in power during the postwar years, they similarly tried to keep the Bundesrat in the dark. 91. This controversy came to a head and was settled by the Constitutional Court in June 1974. The court ruled, “According to the Basic Law, the Bundesrat is not a second chamber of a uniform legislative body which equally shares the responsibility for the legislative process with the first chamber.” 92. Frank R. Pfetsch. 1988. West Germany: Internal Structures and External Relations. New York: Praeger. p. 34. 93. The essential constitutional stipulations in the Basic Law are given in Article 87a, Establishment and powers of the armed forces, and Article 24, Entry into a collective security system. Article 87a specifies that: (i) The Federation shall establish armed forces for defense purposes; (ii) Apart from defense, the armed forces may only be used insofar as explicitly permitted by this Basic Law, and; (iii) The armed forces can be used to support the police and the Federal Border Guard in the protection of civilian property and in combating organized and military armed insurgents. See the Basic Law For the Federal Republic of Germany, pro-

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mulgated by the Parliamentary Council, 23 May 1949, amended by the Unification Treaty, 31 August 1990 and the Federal Statute, 23 September 1990. 94. Duke. 1994. p. 144. 95. Karl-Heinz Kamp. 1993. “The German Bundeswehr in out-of-area operations: to engage or not to engage?” The World Today 49 (8–9): 166. 96. Ronald D. Asmus. 1995a. Germany’s Contribution to Peacekeeping: Issues and Outlook. Santa Monica: Rand. p. 6. 97. Ibid. p. 3. 98. Peter Schmidt. 1993. “The Special Franco-German Security Relationship in the 1990s.” Chaillot Papers No. 8, Institute for Security Studies, Western European Union. p. 13. 99. Haftendorn. 1996. p. 98. 100. Henrik Bering. 1999. Helmut Kohl. Washington, D.C.: Regnery. p. 43. 101. Maull. 1995. pp. 47, 63. 102. Schöllgen. 1993. p. 16. 103. Genscher. 1998. p. 483. 104. Josef Joffe. 1998. “The Secret of Genscher’s Staying Power.” Foreign Affairs 77(1):149. 105. Ibid. p. 152. 106. Quoted in Bering. 1999. p. 21. 107. Genscher. 1998. p. 478. 108. Ibid. p. 477. 109. See “Extra extra large,” The Economist, 26 October 1996. 110. Genscher. 1998. p. 473. 111. Ibid. p. 472. 112. Charles Krauthammer. 1990–91. “The Unipolar Moment.” Foreign Affairs 70(1): 23–33. 113. Robert D. Blackwill points out that Bonn was extraordinarily reluctant to send the Alpha jets and air defense units to defend Turkey. Blackwill. 1992. “Patterns of Partnership.” In From Occupation to Cooperation: The United States and United Germany in a Changing World Order, ed. Steven Muller and Gebhard Schweigler. New York: Norton. p. 144. 114. Schmidt. 1993. p. 22.

Chapter Three

Germany in Somalia and Bosnia

The one contradiction is that in 1990 everyone perceived Germany to be a new European power marching ahead of others—now everyone thinks that the Germans are running behind everyone, applying brakes or being hesitant objectors. Another contradiction is indeed that in the entire postwar era all our neighbors and all our alliance partners always proceeded from the assumption that because of our historical burden no new German military potential could ever again arise. In the year 1990 there were many fears about what a Germany, strengthened in power by unification, would one day do with it militarily—and now, at the beginning of the year 1991, Germans are faced with the accusation that they do not want to participate in war. German Federal President Richard von Weizsäcker1

The Gulf War highlighted the contradictions in international expectations regarding German political leadership and military involvement in the post-Cold War world. Richard von Weizsäcker verbalized, in an interview with the German paper Die Zeit in February 1991, a growing German frustration with its paradoxical foreign policy environment. These tensions did not stop German foreign ministers from coming before the United Nations General Assembly in 1991 and 1992, professing a preparedness to assume the full responsibilities of membership of the UN Security Council.2 The rhetoric, set alongside Bonn’s actions, led the FRG’s allies to believe that it continued to be gripped by a certain craziness in its foreign affairs. Despite enduring negative perceptions, the Federal Republic did begin to narrow

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the gap between its rhetoric and its behavior. For example, it provided two Transall C-160s to help with the UN’s destruction of Iraqi nuclear and chemical weapons after the ground war in Iraq ended, and it dispatched Bundeswehr medics to the UN’s mission in Cambodia in May 1991. Soon after both of these “successful” forays, Bonn sent Bundeswehr troops to take part in the Somalian humanitarian effort. At the same time, the German Luftwaffe became more involved with the multinational NATO AWACS (Airborne Warning and Control System) crews’ efforts over the former Yugoslav airspace. These were unprecedented out-of-area missions for the Bundeswehr. Why and how did German participation in these missions come about and, most important, did Germany’s willingness to increase its part in international crisis management point to concrete changes in overall German behavior? In order to prevent repetition, the following two case study analyses will not consider systematically each of the elements in the environmental model. Instead, a chronological flow of events will be outlined after which any changes in behavior will be discussed and examined.

SOMALIA The U.S.-led Unified Task Force (UNITAF) and the United Nations Operation in Somalia (UNOSOM I and II) were international military forces deployed to deal with a humanitarian crisis.3 Due to the violent fighting among tribal “warlords” in Somalia, which claimed the lives of 300,000 people, international peacekeepers sent there were armed. UNITAF and UNOSOM II were also given mandates to enforce and build peace, both of which require more assertive militaries.4 In the second half of 1992, the constant violence and warfare in Somalia, along with the recalcitrance of the warring factions, prevented the UN from carrying out its original mandate of easing the famine and forced the UN’s approach to the crisis to change fundamentally from one of sending “observers” of a ceasefire to the U.S.-led UNITAF. Unlike most traditional peacekeeping missions, UNITAF had the authority to use force to accomplish its mission (i.e., to provide a secure environment for humanitarian relief).5 Among the thirty countries that contributed troops to UNOSOM II and to UNITAF was the Federal Republic of Germany. In August 1992, the German Air Force established an airlift base in Mombasa, Kenya, from which it flew relief supplies to cities in Somalia and airdropped additional food to Somalis living in remoter areas. By the time the airlift operation ended (in March 1993), 5,900 tons of provisions were given to Somalis and 3.8 million liters of water.6 From May 1993 until it pulled out in late February 1994, Germany also deployed a supply and transport battalion, which was used exclusively in pacified areas of Somalia. Altogether 1,700 Bundeswehr personnel participated in UN operations in Somalia.7 This number was

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pared down severely after the United States announced it would withdraw its contingent before the end of March 1994.8 The domestic debate in the Federal Republic on whether to participate in UNOSOM II took place during the outbreak of hostilities in the former Yugoslavia, and therefore, much of the deliberation surrounding Germany’s involvement in one crisis affected the debate on the FRG’s participation in the other. As in the Gulf War, much of the domestic debate developed along political party lines. Proponents of a more assertive role for Germany, mostly found in the governing coalition, hoped that the contribution of German forces to Somalia alongside Belgian and Italian soldiers would demonstrate to Bonn’s allies that it was not a “disloyal ally” but a trusted one that was now moving toward a broader understanding of its responsibilities. The governing coalition also hoped that the dispatch of German troops for an overtly humanitarian mission would serve to acclimate the German public to the Bundeswehr’s regular participation in peacekeeping missions.9 In February 1992, in the wake of the Gulf War but just prior to the formation of UNOSOM I, the CDU/CSU and FDP issued a constitutional brief that outlined the ruling coalition’s proposed future role for the Bundeswehr. According to the brief, in addition to the Bundeswehr’s traditional role of protecting German territory and people, it should: (i) make suitable contributions to the external defense of German Alliance partners; (ii) contribute to Germany’s political capability within the Atlantic Alliance by making available necessary and appropriate military equipment to international missions, including humanitarian and aid relief ones; (iii) participate in peace enforcement operations in accordance with the UN Charter, and; (iv) contribute to the development of European security structures by intensifying close cooperation with European security partners.10 It should be noted, however, that the junior coalition partner, the FDP, insisted on an additional stipulation to accompany the brief—namely, that before Bundeswehr troops could participate in peace enforcement operations in accordance with the UN Charter, as outlined in proposal 3, the Basic Law must be amended to include such roles. In general, opposition parties (the Social Democrats, the Greens and the PDS) were against possible German participation in Somalia and, more important, were against any change in the nature of the Bundeswehr’s future role. Opposition parties were keen to emphasize Germany’s misuse of its military in the past, with some SPD officials proposing an “alternative idea of a normalized Germany”: rather than striving to be like France, Great Britain or Italy, the Federal Republic could seek normalcy akin to that of Sweden by adopting strong policies of antimilitarism and humanitarianism.11 Opposition forces furthered argued that the Federal Republic continued to have a special moral obligation to oppose the use of the military as a way of resolving disputes and that German history continued to place special limits on how the Federal Republic could act in the region

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and throughout the world. To emphasize their views, the SPD moved to offset the conservative cabinet’s constitutional brief by adopting, at the Social Democrat’s party congress in November 1992, a resolution to prevent German participation in all types of peace missions in which weapons might be used outside the self-defense context. In the following month, the governing coalition used its constitutional brief as the foundation for deciding in favor of Bundeswehr participation in UNOSOM I. However, because Chancellor Kohl lacked the necessary backing in the federal parliament to amend the constitution, as the FDP envisioned, he adopted a strategy of gradually extending the liberal interpretation of the Basic Law until stopped by the opposition parties through the Federal Constitutional Court. On 17 December 1992, Kohl announced that 1,500 German troops would be sent to assist in the humanitarian mission in Somalia. Moreover, the soldiers would be armed for their own protection, as the violent fighting between Somali tribal warlords meant that all foreigners were at risk of being attacked throughout the country, even in so-called “pacified areas.” Still, Kohl did insist that the troops be located in the pacified areas and that they not be used in overtly combat roles.12 In conjunction with his announcement concerning German involvement in Somalia, Kohl disclosed that the German air force would participate in the enforcement of the UN sanctioned “no-fly” zone over Bosnia.13 In January 1993, the CDU/CSU and the FDP formulated new concrete proposals to amend the Basic Law to allow unequivocal Bundeswehr participation in UNOSOM I and the no-fly zone over Bosnia. This proposition consisted of three parts, each defining circumstances in which German forces could be deployed: (i) peacekeeping operations under UN Security Council resolution, or within the framework of regional agreements in accordance with the UN Charter as long as the FRG remained a member; (ii) peacemaking operations that were based on Chapters 7 and 8 of the UN Charter and in accordance with UN Security Council resolutions, and; (iii) exercising the right of collective self-defense in terms of Article 51 of the UN Charter together with other countries within the framework of alliances and other regional agreements to which the Federal Republic of Germany belonged. In addition, the proposal stipulated that any deployment in case one required a majority vote in the Bundestag, while in case three deployment required a two-thirds majority. The Social Democrats rejected the proposal completely. Karl-Heinz Kamp reports, “Some SPD representatives even accused the government of ‘unleashing’ the German military and of ‘re-imperializing’ the Bundeswehr.”14 Not only did the SPD reject this proposal to amend the Basic Law, but it began a campaign to reel in Kohl’s successes in broadening the OOA question. In late spring 1993, the SPD filed a suit with the Federal Constitutional Court contending that the 240 German soldiers already in Somalia were in violation of the Basic Law’s ban on military operations outside of the NATO context. However,

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the Court ruled in favor of Kohl’s expansive interpretation of the Basic Law. On 23 June 1993, the FCC argued that participation in peacekeeping operations outside the NATO area under a UN mandate did not violate the constitution. Specifically, the court said that the sending of troops to Somalia was within the Basic Law’s boundaries because the FRG was a voluntary member of systems of collective security (i.e., UN, CSCE [Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe], NATO and the WEU) and membership to such systems entails acceptance of rules and responsibilities. However, the FCC also stipulated that the deployment of any German troops in OOA missions was subject to a majority vote in the Bundestag and that the military action under consideration must be within the context of a UN mandate. As a result of this ruling, in June 1993 Bundeswehr soldiers began taking part in UNOSOM II’s mission. The soldiers were, as Kohl originally argued in December 1992, armed for defensive reasons.15 Although they were assigned noncombat duties, such as providing logistical support, this German contingent was the first force of its kind since the end of the Second World War—a contingent sent for duty outside NATO Alliance confines.

BOSNIA In the spring of 1991, interethnic fighting started in the former Yugoslavia. The Federal Republic of Germany was among the few countries to immediately express the view that regional diplomatic institutions should be implemented to quell the conflict. In July 1991, German Foreign Minister Hans-Dietrich Genscher, who at the time chaired both the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE) and the WEU Council of Ministers, urged the CSCE to activate its recently created crisis mechanisms. He also threatened to cut off all German aid to Belgrade if it continued to use force to prevent Slovenia and Croatia from exercising their right of self-determination. This threat was not insubstantial as in 1990 aid to the Yugoslav government totaled $550 million.16 Genscher’s personal experience with Serbian aggression (he visited Yugoslavia in July 1991) was an important factor in his push to stop the Serbs.17 However, these and other diplomatic efforts (such as an arms embargo) in the summer and fall of 1991 had little effect in stemming the fighting. Indeed, diplomatic efforts by the EC resulted in fourteen broken ceasefires. Chancellor Kohl also emerged on the international stage as an “increasingly confident player” in the Yugoslav crisis.18 Shortly after the failed attempt to engage the CSCE and the WEU, wisely or unwisely, both Kohl and Genscher began to push for speedy recognition of Croatia and Slovenia as another strategy to resolve the Yugoslav conflict. Genscher’s voice was particularly important in the European Community discussions on the need to rapidly recognize the two Yugoslav republics. In fact, Laura Silber and Allen Little write in

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their highly acclaimed book The Death of Yugoslavia that Genscher “seemed determined to make Croatian independence a fait accompli by Christmas.” 19 Sabrina Petra Ramet notes that, “Genscher announced in mid-November that if the other EC members did not come around, Germany would act unilaterally. Chancellor Kohl immediately endorsed Genscher’s statement and added that Bonn’s recognition of Slovenia and Croatia would occur ‘by Christmas.’ ”20 The assertiveness of Germany’s actions and its subsequent inability to defend Croatia and Slovenia after its decision to recognize them (on 19 December 1991), were controversial for Bonn and it retreated. But, more important, the moves to recognize Slovenia and Croatia proved to be a catastrophic international relations blunder for Bonn. Various critics in Paris, London and Washington argued that Germany’s unilateral action was evidence that it intended to build a great power domain in Europe.21 U.S. Secretary of State Warren Christopher, UN mediator Cyrus Vance, EU envoy to the Balkans and former British Foreign Secretary David Owen and French President Mitterrand all accused Bonn of not only acting out of step with allied wishes but of having contributed to the severity of the war in Bosnia by early recognition.22 Despite its mistake on early recognition, as the war in the former Yugoslavia continued so did German efforts to stop it. When diplomatic attempts to solve the expanding conflict in Bosnia-Herzegovina were unsuccessful, the European Community moved on to humanitarian intervention and economic sanctions along with selective military action against Serbia. In July 1992, the Kohl-led government moved to assist the UN with air transports to Sarajevo and contributions to the naval enforcement of the embargo against Serbia and Montenegro. The SPD filed its first suit with the FCC against the government for these actions, viewing them as invalid in light of the fact that the constitutional issue was unresolved. In the meantime, UN Security Council Resolution 776, passed on 14 September 1992, extended the UN peacekeeping mandate to Bosnia. As the single largest troop contributor, France took command of UNPROFOR II (the UN Protection Force) while Britain, with the second largest contingent, held the post of chief of staff.23 Germany’s participation was limited to airmen taking part in the AWACS mission monitoring the no-fly zone over Bosnian airspace. Nevertheless, Bonn was a strong supporter of tougher and better-enforced sanctions against Serbia, including military intervention to keep the peace. But at the same time, Bonn, mindful of its previous error in the Slovene and Croat recognition, stressed that for historical and constitutional reasons, it could not enforce the very sanctions it was advocating. “This led to the strange situation,” Peter Schmidt writes, “of a promoter of a military option being prepared to give logistical support to a force but unable to contribute troops.”24

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The Federal Republic did participate in UN sanctions enforcement with one vessel in the Adriatic (from July 1992 through until December 1996) and supplied four police patrol craft and fifty personnel to the Danube sanctions enforcement mission (beginning in June 1993 and continuing until December 1995).25 However, both deployments were controversial. The SPD responded to the sanctions participation with an attempt to have the FCC issue an injunction against it. The opposition challenged the Adriatic Sea mission despite the fact that it was purely supervisory (the WEU and NATO destroyers were not permitted to act against violators and moreover, as Josef Joffe reports, the German destroyer remained “spiked”).26 In fact, an especially acrimonious round of debate broke out in the Bundestag on 23 July 1992, after the destroyer in question, The Bayern, was dispatched to enforce sanctions against Serbia. At this time, thirty-two German soldiers were already based in Croatia to organize German food airlifts to Sarajevo with one German C-160. Efforts to stop the fighting in the Balkans proceeded while the Germans debated their role and the Basic Law’s limits on the deployment of the Bundeswehr in missions outside the NATO area. Dissension over this issue soon deadlocked the Bundestag. Although the chancellor’s tactics of gradually challenging the postwar precedent predictably brought the opposition parties to their feet in protest, Kohl’s disclosures, especially allowing German airmen to participate in the Bosnian AWACS mission, also proved to be an extremely contentious issue within the ruling coalition itself. The AWACS matter even put the immediate future of the governing coalition into jeopardy because the junior partner, the FDP, threatened to leave the coalition (which would lead to the government’s collapse) if certain legal issues of Bundeswehr OOA participation were not addressed first. FDP officials argued that in order for German airmen to take part in missions like the AWACS flights over Bosnian airspace, the German constitution had to be amended prior to their deployment. The CDU/CSU, led by Chancellor Kohl, tried to reason with the FDP by arguing that the Basic Law in its present form (emphasizing Article 24) already allowed German participation in peacekeeping and peacemaking operations instigated and supported by multilateral frameworks. The disagreement eventually led the FDP’s cabinet member, Foreign Minister Klaus Kinkel, and FDP Bundestag leader Count Otto Lambsdorff to declare that their party was ready to leave the coalition if Bundeswehr troops helped monitor and direct military operations over the Balkans without a change in the constitution. To break the deadlock, the ruling coalition devised a plan whereby the FDP, together with the Social Democrats, would challenge Chancellor Kohl in the Federal Constitutional Court to stop the AWACS mission, thereby forcing a ruling on whether or not the participation of German airmen in the operation violated the Basic Law. Eight judges of the Constitutional Court ruled in the chancellor’s favor on 12 July 1994. In a press

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release, the FCC said that Article 24 provided “the constitutional foundation for an assumption of responsibilities that are typically associated with membership of such a system of collective security.”27 Those responsibilities might foreseeably include the deployment of the Bundeswehr in missions in which the use of force might be necessary. The FCC’s decision was, in part, based on diplomatic grounds, rather than legal ones. The Court argued that a refusal to participate in the AWACS mission would endanger the trust in Germany within the NATO alliance.28 The Court also ruled that the government had infringed the rights of the Bundestag by not consulting it before sending troops both to Somalia and to help with the AWACS operation over Bosnia.29 In future, all such missions were to be approved by a simple majority of the parliament. For nearly a year the FCC’s ruling remained untried, despite the fact that shortly after it (30 November 1994) the Supreme Allied Commander Europe (SACEUR), General George Joulwan, approached Bonn about providing six Electronic Combat Reconnaissance (ERC) Tornados to help NATO cover a possible evacuation of the UN Protection Force in Bosnia. In response to Joulwan’s request, the German government decided to remain silent, classifying his appeal as an “informal inquiry” that sidestepped the need for an answer. Franz-Josef Meiers writes this about Bonn’s fudged response: “The only surprising element of Bonn’s non-decision was how the Kohl government justified it in terms of the Karlsruhe ruling. Hermann Otto Solms, leader of the FDP parliamentary group, said that dispatching Bundeswehr units to the former Yugoslavia would be permissible from a legal point of view, but that such a mission would have to be reviewed under political criteria.”30 When the German government did follow up on the FCC’s ruling by actually proposing that the Bundeswehr be deployed in an OOA, nondefensive role, namely to the former Yugoslavia in 1995, heated debate consumed the Bundestag. The debates were precipitated by the 16 June 1995 UN Security Council mandate requesting additional rapid reaction forces to protect and support (possibly also help withdraw) UNPROFOR troops already present on the ground in the former Yugoslavia. The Federal Republic was specifically asked to contribute to this new force at the North Atlantic Foreign Ministers Conference in Paris, which took place somewhat earlier, on 3 June. In fact, France and Great Britain pressured the Kohl government to offer Bundeswehr troops to protect a regrouping and reinforcement of UNPROFOR soldiers. In Bonn, however, Kohl had the opposition parties to contend with; indeed, the SPD used the issue to “rule out any Bundeswehr participation in peace enforcement operations and to propose a highly restrictive policy for a participation of the Bundeswehr in international peacekeeping operations.”31 Within the confines of what the opposition parties allowed, by late June the Kohl government proposed to contribute medical personnel, air transport, surveillance aircraft, fourteen

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military aircraft (Tornados) and various other troops—but no ground troops. In particular, it was made clear that the Tornados could not participate in any combat air strikes against Bosnian Serbs. The government’s proposal passed in the Bundestag on 30 June 1995, with some forty SPD members backing the government.32 Stormy debate again predominated the Bundestag over the issue of whether or not to contribute German ground forces to the peace Implementation Force (IFOR), which was under NATO command in Bosnia and tasked with enforcing the Dayton Peace Accords. Foreign Minister Klaus Kinkel and Defense Minister Volker Rühe were both influential in the debates, which took place on 30 November and 6 December 1995. On the latter date, more than half of the Greens in the Bundestag and most all of the Social Democrats ultimately voted in favor of sending 4,000 German logistical, medical and airborne troops to take part in IFOR. The first German troops departed for Bosnia on 29 January 1996. ANALYZING THE POLICY-MAKING ENVIRONMENT A schematic representation of the case study is found in Figure 3.1. In the Gulf War the pressures exerted on German policy makers from the international system were at cross purposes. This did not change for the latter case studies. German international relations also did not significantly deviate. However, after events in Somalia, the United State became even more determined to shift a goodly portion of the burdens of regional and international stability onto its allies. In Europe in particular, both the Bush and Clinton administrations became opposed to risking the lives of U.S. military personnel, promoting instead European attempts at resolving the conflict in Yugoslavia. For instance, American Secretary of State James Baker argued that Yugoslavia “was not an American problem and that it should be left to the Europeans who had, in any case, risen to the challenge with enthusiasm and naive optimism.”33 As a result, the United States did not participate in any diplomatic efforts to find a solution to the conflict during the early phase of the crisis in the former Yugoslavia. Eric Witte maintains that it was this lack of American leadership that was the determining factor on whether or not Germany could show a new strength of leadership in the region and beyond. “Lack of American leadership constricted the Federal Republic’s range of options; insofar as the United States did fulfill its leadership role in the alliance during the ensuing wars, Germany gained foreign-policy options for influencing events.”34 It is certainly true that the Americans had the most confidence in Germany’s ability to help ensure stability around Europe’s borders and beyond, and indeed the United States held the highest expectations regarding Germany’s future role. This confidence and anticipation created opportunities for Germany and had the United States played a larger role earlier in the Balkan crisis, it is possible that this certitude could have translated into greater German influence in the conflict.

Figure 3.1 The Federal Republic of Germany’s foreign and security policy-making process in Somalia and Bosnia.

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This thesis is further supported by increased American pressure on the FRG after the United States became involved in attempts to stem the fighting during the Clinton administration. Indeed, Washington was not shy at faulting Bonn’s reticence to shoulder military aspects of the mission to the Balkans. For instance, on a visit to Washington in February 1993, Germany’s Defense Minister Volker Rühe was briefed on “the damage it would do to American support for NATO if Germany pulled its airmen off duty in allied reconnaissance aircraft over Bosnia.”35 On a subsequent visit to the Federal Republic, in July 1994, U.S. President Bill Clinton stressed the importance of German contributions to international politics and the maintenance of world and regional security. He said, “So many of our challenges are just to Germany’s east—what are we going to do in Central and Eastern Europe? What will be our new relationship with Russia?”36 In answer to these questions Clinton proclaimed that the FRG was the cornerstone of American policy in Europe. He urged Bonn to help Washington solve problems in Europe and beyond. Clinton also welcomed the FCC’s July 1994 ruling that allowed German participation in international military operations outside the NATO area. Indeed, Clinton viewed the FCC’s ruling as a prelude to a more active German role within international security structures.37 Clinton further declared in Berlin that after the FCC’s ruling he could imagine the Federal Republic taking part in future military missions like the Gulf War.38 Within the European Community, France and Great Britain continued to advocate that Germany assume more of the burdens of regional security while remaining wary of giving Bonn any true leadership role. French and British wariness was further supported by the manner and timing of Germany’s recognition of Croatia and Slovenia in 1991 and the German increase in interest rates in the summer of 1993, the latter leading to the collapse of the Exchange Rate Mechanism (ERM). At the same time, France’s worry about the demise of the Bonn-Paris axis and its replacement with a new stronger emphasis on German relations with Eastern Europe, and in particular Moscow, became more pronounced with the imminent move of the German capital to Berlin.39 With Thatcher’s departure from the prime ministership and her replacement by John Major in April 1992, Anglo-German relations improved substantially. Indeed, as an indication of his desire to promote good relations with Chancellor Kohl, Major’s first speech abroad was made in the Adenauer Haus in Bonn.40 Speaking in an interview in July 1994, British Foreign Secretary Douglas Hurd said that personal contacts between Thatcher and Kohl were practically nonexistent and that he “always had to play the go-between and go and see Kohl. That is no longer necessary,” as Kohl and Major liked each other and spoke often on the phone.41 As the war in the former Yugoslavia continued, both France and Great Britain became more forceful in their views that Germany should do more than write checks to help maintain re-

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gional security. In June of 1995, both Paris and London pressured Bonn to offer Bundeswehr troops to protect a regrouping of UN blue helmet UNPROFOR soldiers in Bosnia. In general, EC/EU policy toward the Bosnian crisis was riven by division over appropriate courses of action. Ultimately, the European Community’s divisiveness and general ineffectiveness in solving the escalating conflict in Yugoslavia compelled the United States to take the lead in initiatives to stem the bloodshed. The Soviets and their Russian successors still depended upon German efforts to address their increasing economic woes as well as to keep the Soviets/Russians involved in European events—for example, in diplomatic efforts to stop the fighting in the former Yugoslavia. The latter was attempted primarily through the CSCE, facilitated by Germany’s holding of the chairmanship in 1991 and, in particular, Genscher’s role as chairman of the CSCE’s Council of Ministers. For the Federal Republic, the withdrawal of Red Army troops from former GDR soil remained a prime objective. Germans also continued to promote stability in the former Soviet bloc and as a result were alarmed by the August 1991 attempted putsch in the Soviet Union instigated by Gorbachev’s opponents. Genscher, in particular, was concerned about events in Moscow and “during the tense three days of the coup, [he] was in constant touch with [Soviet Foreign Minister Eduard] Shevardnadze.”42 For his part, Kohl kept in close contact with both Gorbachev and the increasingly more powerful Boris Yeltsin (who at the time had just been elected to the presidency of Russia). Subsequently, the FRG made further efforts to help stabilize the imploding Soviet government; for example, by advocating the enlargement of the G7 (Group of Seven industrialized nations) to a G8 by incorporating the Soviet Union as an equal member. In general, the Federal Republic continued to view Soviet/Russian stability as the key to maintaining equilibrium in Central and Eastern Europe and in the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS), the latter of which was established in December 1991. As a result, the Federal Republic remained the central component of the Soviet Union/Russia’s relationship with Europe—pushing the rest of Europe to carefully consider the consequences of its every action with regard to the Soviets.43 Additionally, Chancellor Kohl took the lead in trying to transform the Russian state by working out a stabilization and aid package for it at the G-7 summit in July 1992.44 In the German public’s discourse over whether the Federal Republic should become more involved in the maintenance of international security (first in Somalia and then in former Yugoslavia) external and growing internal pressures were factors that moved the out-of-area debate in new directions.45 Although, as the Gulf War indicated, the German public was against the dispatch of Bundeswehr troops in OOA missions, several factors culminated in what some have described as a “sea change” in German attitudes toward the use of the German military in certain circumstances.46

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For example, opinion surveys conducted in July 1992 found that 69 percent of Germans thought that Bundeswehr participation in UN peacekeeping missions should be allowed, while 41 percent felt that the FRG should be free to dispatch its troops abroad unilaterally.47 By 1995, a majority of Germans, 62 percent, believed that the Federal Republic should assume a more active international role, while a full 78 percent believed that Germany should participate in peacekeeping operations.48 Still, the majority of Germans who supported such ideas were reluctant for the Federal Republic to undertake a more active role militarily (i.e., in peace enforcing or peacemaking operations). Despite this reluctance, the fact that the public supported the Bundeswehr’s participation in certain kinds of missions is significant. U.S. Deputy Secretary of State Ronald Asmus, a former Rand researcher, makes the point that the German public’s support for any use of the Bundeswehr outside the NATO context is a striking reversal from previous views. He even concludes that contrary to the often-cited view that public opinion is the main “factor preventing Germany from assuming a broader and more active foreign and security policy role . . . the German public is quite commonsensical about many of the new security issues facing Germany today and more supportive of Germany’s assuming a significant new security role than is often realized.”49 There are several reasons that can be identified as precipitating this shift in German public opinion on the roles of the Bundeswehr and in general on Germany’s participation in securing international stability. The first factor centers on German military inaction or restraint in the Gulf War. This reticence, which came under close scrutiny toward the end of the conflict, was ridiculed not only by allies who bore significantly greater human costs but also by Germans themselves. The main catalyst for this self-examination was Iraqi Scud missile attacks on Israel. Germans not only felt a special obligation to Israel because of the Hitler era, but many Germans also began to feel that pacifism could be immoral in the face of aggression against innocents in Israel. Thus, during the war against Saddam Hussein, it became apparent to many Germans that Moralpolitik, and the four decades of viewing the use of military force as antithetical, contradicted the postwar feeling of responsibility for the fate of Israel. Similarly, Moralpolitik challenged the express attempts by former German Chancellor Konrad Adenauer and others to make Germans feel that they were part of the Western alliance of nations. If Saddam Hussein had proved to be another Hitler, Germans would not only have failed the Jews again but would also have revealed that the Federal Republic was not truly a member of the Western family of nations. Second, a Bundeswehr “blue helmet” medical mission to Cambodia in May 1992 was a success. “Sympathetic television coverage of good deeds by Bundeswehr doctors” created a sense of pride and accomplishment in the German military—a new if not novel concept in the Federal Republic.50

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Third, the Bundeswehr’s role in the UN’s 1992 mission in Somalia added credentials to Germany’s ability to take part in humanitarian efforts, even in cases in which soldiers must be armed. Fourth, the war in Yugoslavia was Germany’s first real televised war. Pictures of mainly Serb atrocities, combined with what many perceived as Western military inaction, created a wave of pressure on the federal government to pursue policies that could prevent carnage in the war (which, in turn, contributed to the decision to recognize Slovenia and Croatia early before a general EC recognition was made). As a result, the German press played an important role in changing the public’s views on the use of the Bundeswehr in OOA missions.51 Not only did TV media bring to German living rooms the atrocities taking place in the former Yugoslavia, but the press highlighted the untenable position of the Federal Republic’s policy toward the region. Harsh criticism in the media also helped push the coalition government to ask the FCC for a decision on the constitutional debate over whether German soldiers were allowed to take part in AWACS missions. This shift in public sentiment proved to be an important component in the overall transformation of German opportunities and its readiness to assist in the military responsibilities of crisis management in Bosnia. One fairly immediate result of changes in public attitudes was that opposition parties’ stances on the issue began to be rethought. The SPD, the Greens and the PDS, all having categorically rejected a German OOA role in the Gulf War, began to reevaluate their policies. After its May 1993 party conference, for example, the SPD announced that it would allow German military participation in UN peacekeeping, or “blue helmet” operations, but not in peacemaking or peace-enforcing operations, which were more likely to put the military in combat situations. The reality of the CDU/CSU’s gains in altering the Bundeswehr’s involvement in OOAmissions through the FCC did play an important part in the SPD’s own policy change. Still, the SPD did have a consensus in its efforts to alter its directive on German military involvement in OOA crises. By 1995, in an even more dramatic shift of policy, the SPD criticized the Kohl government “not only for closing too many military bases, but also for asserting that the Bundeswehr must never go where Hitler’s Wehrmacht once had gone. [SPD Chairman Rudolph] Scharping asked if it would not be better to send German troops to nearby Macedonia than to far-away Somalia.”52 SPD foreign policy experts, such as Karsten Voigt and Hans-Ulrich Klose, also began to criticize their party’s “provincial foreign policy culture” and to call for the SPD to accept German participation in UN-sponsored combat missions.53 Those members of the SPD who fought against this change, basically the left wing of the party, were led by party deputy chair Heidi Wieczorek-Zeul and then Saarland premier Oskar Lafontaine. More left-leaning parties, such as the Greens, also changed their policy toward OOA missions for the Bundeswehr. As Josef Janning writes, “From

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the feminists to the Greens, ethnic cleansing in former Yugoslavia led to the most profound change in political preference among the left or ‘alternative’ part of German political culture. The essence of this change was expressed in a position paper that the Greens’ parliamentary co-leader Joseph (‘Joschka’) Fischer distributed over the summer of 1995, i.e., the need to be able to act in cases of genocide.”54 Janning further points out that Fischer even berated the Bonn government for being too soft on Russian brutality in Chechnya. This transformation was not complete, however, as many Greens held onto more traditional Green views of the use of the German military for any reason. As a result, the Greens were once again divided into a pacifist wing, which rejected the use of armed force in all circumstances, and another, albeit smaller wing, which argued for German military intervention in the former Yugoslavia. After the Greens’ congress in Bremen in late November and early December 1995, this division into two separate wings became even more pronounced. Fischer, and a substantial minority that supported him, endorsed the use of the German military as a last resort to halt genocide in conflict situations similar to those experienced in Bosnia and Rwanda.55 The June and December 1995 votes in the Bundestag (the first to allow logistical air support to UNPROFOR in Bosnia and to send medics, reconnaissance aircraft and Tornados to the region; the second to send 4,000 combat troops to Croatia) reflect the shifts in opposition party sentiment. Even more than half of the Greens in the Bundestag and most all of the Social Democrats voted in favor of the 4,000–strong Balkan contingent. The opportunities open to Bonn via the Federal Republic’s governmental structure were not significantly altered in the Somalian and Bosnian case study. However, the Ministry of Defense did emerge as an important player in German foreign affairs and a strong voice in the domestic OOA dialogue. In 1992, it published Defense Planning Guidelines, which discussed German OOA possibilities. Although various parts of the plan were later “disavowed” by Kohl and financial shortfalls invalidated many crucial planning assumptions, it was nevertheless one of the first official documents to discuss an OOA role for the Bundeswehr.56 In 1994, it published a White Paper that expanded Bundeswehr roles to include crisis and conflict management tasks beyond the NATO territory. The inclusion of these new roles was directly related to the FCC’s clarification of the constitutional basis for the deployment of the Bundeswehr abroad. Soon after the FCC’s decision, the Ministry of Defense published an additional planning document (in July) that drafted plans to restructure the Bundeswehr. This “Conceptual Guideline for the Further Development of the Federal Armed Forces” specifically outlined actual force planning, making a distinction between traditional territorial defense and new tasks such as crisis reaction. The guideline further envisioned that it will be crisis reaction tasks that will take up the majority of future German military assignments

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and, as a result, such missions will require more resources.57 Perhaps most important, the guideline drafted changes to the main objective of the Bundeswehr—to carry out flexible crisis and conflict management tasks and to take part in humanitarian and peace missions (all in a possible out-of-area context). Specifying the shift in the main objective of the German armed forces was an important first step in rectifying the FRG’s deficit in the actual physical capabilities to carry out its anticipated new role. When considering the characteristics of the Federal Republic’s defined national interests during the latter study, one encounters a German foreign policy conundrum that directly resulted from its attempts to reverse the condemnation raised against it by the coalition forces fighting in the Gulf. Despite strong preferences to further develop a Euro-defense identity, and to placate the French, Bonn remained mindful of the importance of transatlantic frameworks, the significance of which was underscored by a number of factors. First, Germany was aware that several of its European partners, including Great Britain and Italy, were unhappy over what they saw as “the danger of an erosion of the NATO Alliance.”58 Second, German critics of an overly European identity began to argue that the Gulf War had already revealed that European security and defense structures were inadequate. As Ian Gambles observes, none of the European organizations proved effective in bringing an integrated European effort to bear in the Gulf conflict. Gambles writes, [The] WEU was . . . successful in inducing some level of contribution from each of its members, notably the first Spanish naval expedition to the Gulf, but did not really break any new ground. The EC performed poorly, unable to maintain political unity and unable to persuade the Iraqis even to meet their representatives. There was extensive ad hoc coordination and cooperation in the Gulf crisis, but no integration—indeed each of the three major European powers acted exactly as one might have expected if the idea of European security integration had never been suggested at all.59

Third, Germany’s commitment to not obtain nuclear weapons meant that a continued American presence in Europe remained the only viable means for counterbalancing the former Soviet Union’s substantial nuclear arsenal. Fourth, it became obvious that the Eurocorps’ 50,000 soldiers based in Strasbourg was not large enough to replace NATO forces. Moreover, if the Eurocorps, or even a WEU-led task force, wanted to embark on real, even modest military exercises, it would need to borrow military equipment from NATO.60 Thus, for many in the FRG it was clear that U.S. military involvement in European security was still relevant and that at best, it would take years for the European Union to establish a common foreign, security and even defense policy. Some Germans, like General Jörg Schönbohm, who oversaw the East German military’s incorporation into the federal defense forces, were even afraid that if the Germans did not meet U.S. de-

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mands to share some regional security burdens, the United States would turn its back on Europe. Schönbohm argued that in order to guarantee future U.S. commitment to Europe, the Federal Republic of Germany, for one, must increase its role in UN Security Council sanctioned out-of-area missions.61 To complicate German national interests further, the Federal Republic was in favor of both widening and deepening the EU; of the enlargement of NATO; of the strengthening of the WEU (while not increasing its defense budget), and; of seeking a strategic and economic partnership with Russia. One sees immediately the contrariness of these objectives. The last stance was designed to prevent growing Russian political isolation and resulted in proposals for Russia to be included in all talks concerning regional security issues, such as the Contact Group (organized by the United States, Britain, France and Germany to deal with the Yugoslav crisis). Proposals in support of Russia, however, worried the Poles, the Czechs and other Central Europeans. Additionally, the FRG extended commitments to the new democracies of Central and Eastern Europe, while promising Russia nothing would be done without first telling the Kremlin. Finally, the Federal Republic favored promoting all these relationships while at the same time actively seeking a permanent seat on the UN Security Council.62 Ultimately, the multiple aims of the Federal Republic’s defined national interests often induced it to follow conflicting policies or to remain somewhere in the middle of the road. In consideration of roles and individuals, it was pointed out that in the Gulf War Chancellor Kohl’s willingness to participate in events in the Middle East were less strong than his willingness to focus on issues closer to home. The chancellor did not use his office to articulate a coherent policy toward the Gulf War and, as a result, Kohl contributed to the murkiness of German foreign affairs at that time. During the Somalian mission, similar criticisms were weighed in against Kohl, even from his former chief foreign policy adviser, Horst Teltschik, who argued that the German public had not been properly prepared for the Bundeswehr’s deployment in Somalia. “The country is completely unprepared. Our politicians, including the Foreign Minister, the Chancellor . . . haven’t explained to people what the real goals are,” Teltschik asserted.63 During the Bosnian crisis, Kohl was equally hard-pressed to persuade parliamentarians that German contributions to UN peacekeeping forces in the former Yugoslavia were important to Germany’s allies. It did not help his powers of persuasion, however, that his government moved to cut the German defense budget and downsize force levels by 120,000 troops. Still, Kohl was also persistent in his drive to have the Federal Republic take on a wider global role after unification. It was Kohl who led the push to broaden the interpretation of the Basic Law concerning the deployment of German troops for nondefensive missions beyond the borders of Germany. In July 1994,

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speaking after the FCC’s landmark ruling, Kohl said, “What I have always wanted has become clear in this ruling. We are members of the UN and if we make use of our UN rights, we must also carry out our duties. I consider it unacceptable for our country’s dignity that we stand aside, as it were, and do not take our share of responsibility.”64 Kohl was also an important player in the 1995 Bundestag debates that ultimately forged a consensus on support for OOA operations in the former Yugoslavia. Robert Dorff argues that building this consensus was a thorny task: Kohl was variously characterized as, on the one hand, craftily leading Germany down a path toward militarizing German foreign policy and, on the other, as allowing German policy to drift aimlessly as he played games with the allies, desperately seeking ways in which to avoid making any commitments or giving any clear answers. The reality was that Kohl’s political margin for error was so narrow following the 1994 parliamentary elections that he could not afford a major policy disaster.65

Foreign Minister Hans-Dietrich Genscher was again influential, especially in emphasizing the importance of German-Russo relations and in the early recognition of Croatia and Slovenia. With regard to the collapsing Soviet Union, Genscher was an indefatigable advocate of Gorbachev’s government and, after it fell, of keeping the Russians involved in diplomatic efforts through the CSCE. In the case of the early recognition of Croatia and Slovenia, in one of his rare moments of expressing emotion or his private thoughts in his memoirs Genscher writes, “What, I asked myself over and over, can end the bloodshed? More and more it seemed as if recognizing Slovenia and Croatia and thus turning the conflict into an international matter was the only remaining political means.”66 Genscher’s abrupt departure from his post in 1992 allowed his successor, Klaus Kinkel (also FDP), to assert his own ideas on promoting Germany’s readiness to shed its postwar military dwarfism. Although not as influential as Genscher, Kinkel was certainly less ambiguous, without what The Economist called Genscher’s smokescreens. In a January 1993 speech to the Bundestag, Kinkel argued that Germany and Japan have the only constitutions that prohibit them from using their armed forces for the most noble or humanitarian causes.67 Kinkel was also influential in the June 1995 Bundestag debates on the deployment of a rapid reaction force in the former Yugoslavia. Writing soon after the FCC’s July 1994 ruling, Kinkel contended that he had “fulfilled a promise which my predecessor, Hans-Dietrich Genscher, had made in his statement before the UN General Assembly in 1991. Following reunification and the restoration of our full sovereignty, Germany is now fully capable of playing its role in international affairs and of meeting its Alliance obligations.”68 Defense Minister Volker Rühe (CDU) supported many of Kinkel’s views in foreign and security affairs but was more circumspect with regard

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to deployment of German rapid reaction forces.69 Among those things that Rühe favored strongly were extending UN Security Council membership to the FRG and increasing the Federal Republic’s part in European security structures. Philip Gordon observes, “Rühe often asks how Germany can expect nineteen-year-old French, Belgian and British boys to risk their lives to defend European interests while the Germans stand aside.”70 Rühe was also one of the most vocal and articulate proponents in Germany of NATO and EU expansion. In fact, he used the relative weakness of Genscher’s successor to establish a higher profile for the Ministry of Defense and for himself as a key figure on broader strategic issues. For example, in Central and Eastern Europe his role often transcended defense.71 However, this higher profile led him into conflict with others in his ruling party coalition. For instance, Rühe and Kohl were in disagreement on how scarce defense money should best be spent—to finance either the much criticized, over-budget Cold War-designed Eurofighter, as Rühe wanted, or to pay for an ambitious Franco-German satellite project that Kohl had already agreed upon with French President Jacques Chirac. Rühe was also in a general funding dispute with Finance Minister Theo Waigel (who is also head of the CSU, the Bavarian sister party of the CDU). Waigel did agree, however, that the FRG should take on more global responsibilities. Following the FCC’s ruling to allow Bundeswehr troops to take part in international peace missions, Waigel said, “Our economic and technological capabilities, our new political weight and the sovereignty we have won back, no longer allows for the old curbs on German foreign policy.”72 One last individual belonging within the realm of the ruling coalition who deserves brief mention is the German Federal President Roman Herzog, who replaced Richard von Weizsäcker. Herzog assumed his post in July 1994 and soon after began calling on Germans to accept their new responsibilities. Herzog emphasized that such responsibilities should be honored without any kind of nationalistic overtones or undertones. Among opposition party members, Rudolph Scharping is important. Scharping’s ouster as SPD chairman in November 1995 was largely due to dissatisfied party colleagues who castigated him for his lack of clear vision. As opposition leader Scharping argued the party line: that all Bundeswehr missions should be limited to noncombat roles and that in the case of Bosnia (because of the Wehrmacht’s history there) noncombat roles were especially important. Nevertheless, he too, in the final vote, advocated a greater role for the Federal Republic in the Balkans.73 Various commentators, newspaper columnists and foreign and security policy elites continued to be influential. A majority of these individuals favored an enhanced German role and, therefore, furnished Bonn with opportunities. The various opportunities in the Federal Republic’s foreign policy-making environment ultimately allowed decision makers to begin rethinking the FRG’s role in maintaining regional and world security. It

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allowed, for example, the FCC’s clarification on the constitutional basis for the deployment of the Bundeswehr abroad. However, what is equally clear is that making any changes in the Federal Republic’s perspective on regional and global obligations was a messy business and not always a foregone conclusion. For instance, when the German government did follow up on the FCC’s ruling, by proposing that the Bundeswehr be deployed in response to a UN Security Council mandate request, intense debate engulfed the Bundestag. The various constraints discussed in chapter 2, such as Bonn’s peculiar foreign-policy orientation and Germany’s dependency on the United States for airlift capacity, C3I (Command, Control, Communication, and Intelligence) etcetera, also continued to be negative factors on Germany’s willingness to make use of its opportunities. The interaction between enduring compelling constraints and the growing number of opportunities meant that German foreign policy often swung back and forth between policy preferences.

NOTES 1. As quoted in Alice Ackermann and Catherine McArdle Kelleher. 1993. “The United States and the German Question: Building a New European Order.” In The Germans and Their Neighbors, ed. Dirk Verheyen and Christian Søe. Boulder: Westview Press. p. 418. 2. Speech by Foreign Minister Hans-Dietrich Genscher to the 46th session of the UN General Assembly, 25 September 1991; and speech by Foreign Minister Klaus Kinkel to the 47th session of the UN General Assembly, 23 September 1992. 3. The United Nations and Somalia, 1992–1996. 1996. The United Nations Blue Books Series, Vol. 8. New York: United Nations Department of Public Information. 4. Because of the situation in Somalia (no government to request the UN’s intervention), the Security Council for the first time in its history invoked the provisions outlined in Chapter 7 of the United Nations Charter that deal with a conflict confined within a single state’s borders. 5. See Resolution 794, 3 December 1992, “Security Council resolution authorizing the Secretary-General and Member States, under Chapter 7 of the Charter of the UN, to use all necessary means to establish as soon as possible a secure environment for humanitarian relief operations in Somalia.” Document No. 35. The United Nations and Somalia, 1992–1996. 1996. p. 214. 6. “Participation of Germany in military and police operations mandated by the Security Council of the United Nations,” 17 November 1997. . 7. Ibid. 8. The deaths of eighteen American soldiers on 3 October 1993 prompted President Clinton to withdraw the U.S. forces. In the following six months UNOSOM lost most of its troops and logistics equipment. In March 1995, the UN Security Council withdrew the remaining UNOSOM II forces. 9. Henrik Bering. 1999. Helmut Kohl. Washington, D.C.: Regnery. pp. 149–150.

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10. Gottfried Linn. 1993. “New Tasks for the Bundeswehr.” German Comments. 30: 6. 11. Karl-Heinz Kamp. 1993. “The German Bundeswehr in out-of-area operations: to engage or not to engage?” The World Today 49(8–9): 167. 12. Hans-Georg Ehrhart. 1996. “Germany.” In Challenges for the New Peacekeepers, ed. Trevor Findlay. SIPRI Research Report No. 12. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 36. Ehrhart further points out that the Security Council tailored Resolution 814, of 26 March 1993, with the Germans in mind, dividing the resolution into two parts. The first part (A) emphasized humanitarian tasks while the second part (B) allowed for enforcement actions under Chapter 7 of the UN Charter. 13. Resolution 816, 31 March 1993, by the United Nations Security Council authorized the use of military force to enforce a no-fly zone over Yugoslavia. NATO implemented the resolution through its airborne warning and control systems (AWACS). 14. Kamp. 1993. p. 167. 15. UN peacekeepers must always use their weapons only in self-defense, which the UN defines as including the defense of their mandate and of their person and property. Thus, if German soldiers are called on to defend UN mandates the likelihood they will use their weapons is quite high. 16. Sabrina Petra Ramet. 1993. “Yugoslavia and the Two Germanys.” In The Germans and Their Neighbors, ed. Dirk Verheyen and Christian Søe. Boulder: Westview Press. p. 327. 17. Hanns W. Maull. 1995–96. “Germany in the Yugoslav Crisis.” Survival 37(4): 102. 18. Laura Silber and Allan Little. 1995. The Death of Yugoslavia. London: Penguin/BBC. p. 217. 19. Ibid. p. 221. See also Richard Holbrooke. 1998. To End a War. New York: Modern Library. pp. 31–33. 20. Ramet. 1993. p. 330. 21. For a good analysis of who promoted early German recognition of Croatia and Slovenia see Peter Viggo Jakobsen. 1995. “Myth-making and Germany’s Unilateral Recognition of Croatia and Slovenia.” European Security 4(3): 400–416. See also Wolfgang Krieger. 1993. “Toward a Gaullist Germany?” World Policy Journal (spring). pp. 26–38. 22. For further analysis of Bonn’s decision to recognize Slovenia and Croatia when it did and under what circumstances see chapter 7, which addresses the normative question of whether Germany should assume larger leadership roles or not. 23. Silber and Little. 1995. p. 288. 24. Peter Schmidt. 1993. “The Special Franco-German Security Relationship in the 1990s.” Chaillot Paper No. 9, Institute for Security Studies, Western European Union. pp. 29–30. 25. “Participation of Germany in military and police operations mandated by the Security Council of the United Nations, “ 17 November 1997. . 26. Josef Joffe. 1993. “The New Europe: Yesterday’s Ghosts.” Foreign Affairs 71(1): 33.

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27. “Federal Constitutional Court approves expanded international role for German military,” The Week in Germany, 15 July 1994. 28. Thomas Kielinger and Max Otte. 1993. “Germany: The Pressured Power.” Foreign Policy 91: 54. 29. Marcus Kabel, “Court frees Germany for world military role,” Reuter News Service, Western Europe, 12 July 1994. 30. Franz-Josef Meiers. 1995. “Germany: The Reluctant Power.” Survival 37(3):86. 31. See Franz-Josef Meiers. 1996. “Germany’s ‘Out-of-Area’ Dilemma.” In Force, Statecraft and German Unity: The Struggle to Adapt Institutions and Practices, ed. Thomas-Durell Young. Strategic Studies Institute Publications. Carlisle, PA: U.S. Army War College. pp. 11–12, 22. 32. “Bundestag votiert für Antrag der Regierung—Oppositionsanträge abgelehnt—UNO unterstützen,” Deutscher Bundestag, Heft 13/05.07.95, Bonn. 33. Silber and Little. 1995. p. 222. 34. Eric A. Witte. “Die Rolle der Vereinigten Staaten im Jugoslawien-Konflikt und der außenpolitische Handlungsspielraum der Bundesrepublik Deutschland (1990–1996).” Unpublished dissertation, University of Regensburg, FRG. 35. “Come in, the water’s everywhere,” The Economist, 27 February 1993. 36. Tom Heneghan, “Clinton encourages larger German role in world,” Reuter News Service, Western Europe, 11 July 1994. 37. “Federal Constitutional Court approves expanded international role for German military,” The Week in Germany, 15 July 1994. 38. Marcus Kabel, “Court frees Germany for world military role,” Reuter News Service, Western Europe, 12 July 1994. 39. See, for example, Steve Crawshaw, “Franco-German tiff blows over,” The Independent, 18 March 1994, and; Reuter European Community Report, 16 March 1994. 40. Anthony Glees. 1993. “The British and the Germans: From Enemies to Partners.” In The Germans and Their Neighbors, ed. Dirk Verheyen and Christian Søe. Boulder: Westview Press. p. 53. 41. Matthew Beard, “Hurd backing for German military role,” London Times, 26 July 1994. 42. Angela E. Stent. 1999. Russia and Germany Reborn. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. p. 155. 43. Hans-Dietrich Genscher. 1998. Rebuilding a House Divided. New York: Broadway. p. 508. 44. F. Stephen Larrabee. 1993. “Moscow and the German Question.” In The Germans and Their Neighbors, ed. Dirk Verheyen and Christian Søe. Boulder: Westview Press. p. 222. 45. Internal pressures were magnified by the fact that in 1992 the FRG took in 250,000 refugees from the former Yugoslavia and by 1994 it had more than 400,000. 46. See, for example, Ronald D. Asmus. 1994. German Strategy and Public Opinion After the Wall, 1990–1993.” Santa Monica: Rand, and; Christoph Bluth. 1995. “Germany: Defining the National Interest.” The World Today 51(3): 52–55. 47. Ramet. 1993. p. 330.

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48. Ronald D. Asmus. 1995b. Germany’s Geopolitical Maturation: Public Opinion and Security Policy in 1994. Santa Monica: Rand. 49. Ibid. p. 2. 50. David Schoenbaum and Elizabeth Pond. 1996. The German Question and Other German Questions. New York: St. Martin’s Press. p. 207. 51. Jakobsen. 1995. pp. 400–416. 52. Elizabeth Pond. 1995. “Germany Finds Its Niche as a Regional Power.” Washington Quarterly 19: 35. 53. Karsten Voigt and Hans-Ulrich Klose as cited in Philip H. Gordon. 1994. “Berlin’s Difficulties: The Normalization of German Foreign Policy.” Orbis (spring). p. 238. 54. Josef Janning. 1996. “A German Europe—a European Germany? On the debate over Germany’s foreign policy.” International Affairs 72(1): 37. 55. The other Greens’ co-leader, Jürgen Trittin, as well as Kerstin Müller, the parliamentary co-leader, argued that the use of armed forces to settle conflicts does more harm than good and might militarize German foreign policy after fifty years of postwar restraint. See “Germany’s Greens Inch Away From Absolute Pacifism,” International Herald Tribune, 4 December 1995. 56. Thomas-Durell Young. 1996. “Defense planning and the Bundeswehr’s new search for legitimacy.” In Force, Statecraft and German Unity: The Struggle to Adapt Institutions and Practices, ed. Thomas-Durell Young. Strategic Studies Institute Publications. Carlisle, PA: U.S. Army War College. p. 51. 57. Robert H. Dorff. “German Security Policy in the 1990s.” American Diplomacy. . 58. Bregor Schöllgen. 1993. “Putting Germany’s Post-Unification Foreign Policy to the Test.” NATO Review 41(2): 19. 59. Ian Gambles. 1991. “European Security Integration in the 1990s.” Chaillot Paper No. 3, Institute for Security Studies, Western European Union. p. 41. 60. Indeed, it has been argued that the Germans viewed the Eurocorps, in part, as a means for the French to come back into NATO political and military structures because the Eurocorps’ mandate includes allowances of future action under NATO auspices. See Ludger Kühnhardt. 1995. “Germany’s Role in European Security.” SAIS Review 15 (special issue). p. 120. 61. Schönbohm further pointed out that the United States supported German unification when other allies, like France and Great Britain, did not. See Bruce Clark, “German troops prepare for mission in Bosnia,” Financial Times, 19 November 1996. 62. See the many statements and speeches made by the German ambassador to the United Nations calling for an “Equitable Representation on and Increase in the Membership of the Security Council.” 63. Tyler Marshall, “Troop Role in Somalia Has Germans Edgy,” Los Angeles Times, 24 July 1993. 64. Marcus Kabel, “Court frees Germany for world military role,” Reuter News Service, Western Europe, 12 July 1994. 65. Robert H. Dorff. 1996. “German policy towards peace support operations.” In Force, Statecraft and German Unity: The Struggle to Adapt Institutions and Practices, ed. Thomas-Durell Young. Strategic Studies Institute Publications. Carlisle, PA: U.S. Army War College. p. 82.

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66. Hans-Dietrich Genscher. 1998. p. 510. 67. Klaus Kinkel’s intervention in the Bundestag debate of 15 January 1993, cited in Philip H. Gordon. 1994. pp. 234–235. 68. Klaus Kinkel. 1994. “Peacekeeping Missions: Germany can now play its part.” Nato Review 42, web edition, . 69. Dorff. 1996. p. 83. 70. Gordon. 1994. p. 234. 71. “Mind my tank,” The Economist, 6 July 1996. 72. “Waigel calls for Bonn to assume more responsibility,” Reuter News Service, Western Europe, 16 July 1994. 73. “Lafontaine’s coup,” The Economist, 18 November 1995.

Chapter Four

Japan in the Gulf War

The Gulf War raised in a sharp way the issue of an appropriate role for Japan in collective security efforts beyond financial contributions. Japan should contribute personnel to U.N.-sponsored peacekeeping efforts in whatever way is politically feasible. Whether this includes assigning personnel from the Self-Defense Forces—even noncombat personnel—is obviously sensitive within Japan and throughout the region. But this issue needs to be faced squarely if Japan is to be taken seriously as a major international political force. Former chairman of the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff William J. Crowe, Jr. and Alan D. Romberg, Council on Foreign Relations1

Like that of the Federal Republic of Germany, Japan’s immediate postwar foreign and security policy was heavily influenced by its defeated status. The United States-imposed “Peace Constitution,” containing the famous Article 9, which prohibited Japan from maintaining “war potential” and renounced Japan’s “right of belligerency,” was written with the intention to demilitarize Japan. Both Article 9 and demilitarization were welcomed by the Japanese people, who were exhausted by the war and blamed the militarization of the economy and the society for their suffering during the war. However, rapid changes in the security of Asia, especially China’s fall to communists in 1949 and the outbreak of the Korean War the following year, soon pushed the United States toward advocacy of Japanese remilitarization. Japan’s first prime minister, Shigeru Yoshida, resisted this pressure, advocating instead that Japan turn all its energies to economic

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reconstruction and the expansion of its export markets. Yoshida and others viewed Japan’s “unique” scarring by the atomic bomb as a sign that its particular role in the postwar era was a peaceful one. As a result, Japan should refrain from any military role in the region or beyond. Japan was to adhere, albeit with varying intensity, to this “Yoshida Doctrine” throughout the Cold War, separating its security and defense policy from its economics policy. Consequently, Japan’s security remained dependent on the United States, resting on the largely unspoken, but nonetheless evident awareness, that it was in America’s strategic interest to protect Japan against possible threats. During the Cold War successive American administrations also played down the growing economic frictions with Japan for the sake of the broader security relationship, even encouraging Japan to trade globally, believing that a prosperous Japan was an important ally and tool in promoting regional stability. In fact, in the 1950s and 1960s, American presidents, beginning with Eisenhower, worried about the fragile democratic states of the region, convinced that they could “fall like dominoes” to communism without U.S. protection. Like the Federal Republic of Germany, Japan also received more than monetary and security goods from its relationship with the United States. In particular, the U.S.-Japan association allowed Japan to avoid awkward and soul-searching questions concerning its actions in the Second World War.2 The most important security agreements between Japan and the United States are the 1952 U.S.-Japan Security Treaty and the 1960 U.S.-Japan Mutual Cooperation and Security Treaty. The 1952 treaty laid down the basis for the creation of the Japan Self-Defense Forces (SDF), which were formed in 1954 out of a national police reserve force that U.S. General MacArthur had previously brought into being. The 1960 treaty incorporated Japan into the American security system as a “junior partner,” lacking an independent defense strategy or capability. Although the 1960 treaty was initially protested and Japan periodically showed a dislike for depending on the United States for its security, an overall assessment of Japan’s foreign affairs for the entire postwar era reveals that Japan did not foster an independent national-security policy nor did it seriously consider damaging its relationship with the United States. The 1985 Japanese White Paper underscores this: “The Japan-U.S. security arrangements constitute a basis of Japan’s defense and an indispensable element for its security.”3 The only important disagreements between the United States and Japan over their arrangement occurred from the late 1960s to the mid-1970s, when changes in U.S. global strategy (both U.S. presidents Johnson and Nixon emphasized the need for Japan to develop a stronger defense posture) coupled with the resurgence of the Soviet threat (brought on by the establishment of a global nuclear balance of sorts between the Soviet Union and the United States), called U.S. security guarantees into question. Additionally, America’s decision to pull out of Vietnam, Nixon’s measures to establish a

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rapprochement with China and the collapse of the Bretton Woods system all contributed to a belief that “the United States would no longer be able to support an international strategic order or a global economic system through its power and wealth alone and would need the help of others, even its adversaries.”4 Despite such differences and doubts about U.S. power (and intense trade frictions in the late 1980s), continuation of a strong relationship with America remained a Japanese policy priority throughout the Cold War. In the immediate post-Cold War era, the United States began, as it had to some extent in the 1970s, pressuring Japan to become a responsible player in the Asia-Pacific region and beyond. However, unlike the 1970s, Japanese foreign policy was not constrained by considerations of the superpower standoff. The Gulf War was the first post-Cold War international crisis in which the Americans began urging the Japanese to use their political and military might to help restore international peace and stability. Calls by American leaders were echoed by academic predictions. For example, Robert Tucker wrote in the fall of 1990, “The end of the Cold War and of a bipolar world will almost surely prompt Japan to take a more active political role in the international system. Japan will do so if only for the reason that the risks and liabilities attending a greater assertiveness will have diminished and will be seen to have diminished.”5 Japan’s potential to assume an important role in the Gulf War emerged from its great economic strength and its military robustness. Japan’s postwar concentration on economic rejuvenation, which came quickly after the Korean War started, had transformed it into an economic power-house. Economic growth was to a great extent spurred and supported by the revival of the Japanese military-industrial complex, which filled military hardware needs in the Korean War. As Michael Green points out, “With the outbreak of the Korean War the United States committed itself to reviving Japan’s prewar heavy industries and created a tokuju (special demand) for war material that soon accounted for 70 percent of Japan’s total exports.”6 The Vietnam War also contributed to Japan’s economic recovery; reaching as high as $1 billion per year in exports during the conflict. By the time the Cold War ended, Japan was the economic center of the Asian region, having already long contested America’s economic leadership in the area. As Ezra Vogel observes, “In the 1960s, as its economy grew and its world trade expanded, Japan became for the first time in its history a global economic power.”7 By 1989, Japan accounted for roughly two thirds of the Asia-Pacific’s GDP, its economy was more than ten times larger than the second greatest economy in the region (China) and it had become the largest donor of aid to less developed countries in the region (while giving roughly the same amount as the U.S. worldwide).8 Militarily, at the end of the Cold War, Japan’s capability had surpassed the combined forces of the seven countries in ASEAN.9 This was largely

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the result of increases in defense spending over the previous ten years. As J.A.A. Stockwin observes, under Prime Minister Yasuhiro Nakasone (1982–1987), “Defense spending throughout the 1980s increased steadily at a rate of about 7 percent per annum . . . the cumulative effect by the end of the decade of enabling the Self-Defense Forces to become a modernized high-tech force.”10 Writing in the spring of 1991, former chairman of the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff, William J. Crowe, Jr., pointed out, “Tokyo’s military budget is already, in absolute financial terms, the third largest in the world. Japanese Self-Defense Forces are modern, capable and obviously expandable.”11 Japan likewise built over the years the most capable submarine force in Asia, a larger and more capable navy than China and accumulated more fighter aircraft than ASEAN, Australia and New Zealand combined.12 Japan developed these capabilities in spite of Article 9 stipulations that “land, sea and air forces, as well as other war potential, will not be maintained.” As Michael J. Green comments, “Despite its ‘Peace Constitution’ and close security ties to the United States, Japan designs and produces a seemingly impressive array of indigenous high-technology missiles, tanks, warships, and aircraft. . . . These weapons are testimony to Japanese technology and are powerful symbols of the potential for Japanese political and military self-reliance.”13 Despite these capabilities, both in the economic and in the military spheres, and in spite of strong international pressures and the fact that the Japanese obtained most of their oil from the Persian Gulf (some 75 percent), Japan, like the Federal Republic of Germany, clearly expressed a strong reserve toward assuming a responsible role in the Gulf War. Instead, Japan preferred to deny its own great strength, giving the impression, as Karel van Wolferen contends, “of not wanting to belong to the world at all.”14 Although Japan did eventually give a substantial financial contribution, the strong diplomatic pressure needed to obtain the money added more weight to the slur that Japan was a free rider. The U.S. ambassador to Japan, Michael Armacost, had to frankly convey to the Japanese government the ramifications that nonparticipation would have on future relations with the United States, especially if significant numbers of American, European and Arab casualties occurred, while Japan only contributed $2.2 billion to the Gulf Cooperation Council and $2 billion in aid to Gulf countries. U.S. President George Bush and Armacost also made it clear to officials in Tokyo that if Americans perceived that Japan sent only money, while the United States sent young men and women to face the Iraqi Republican Guard, a wave of anti-Japanese sentiment would sweep the United States. Only after these frank discussions and clarifications of the possible results of Japanese nonaction did Prime Minister Toshiki Kaifu submit a bill to the Diet calling for the creation of a UN Peace Cooperation Corps. Still, the suggested force of 2,000 was to be implemented only after fighting had stopped and only if Tokyo specifically approved

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the mission, which in late 1990 it did not. After the bill was withdrawn from the Diet (because of its portended failure) and after it became clear that Bush was unhappy with Tokyo’s donation, Japan pledged an additional $9 billion to the multilateral effort.15 Only after the Gulf War ended, in April 1991, did Prime Minister Kaifu manage to convince the Diet to allow the dispatch of four minesweepers and two support ships to the Persian Gulf. However, most of the mines had already been cleared.16 Why did Japan seek to withdraw from the reality of its own immense economic and military strengths in the first important conflict of the post-Cold War era? What accounts for its modesty and its wish to remain a political and security dwarf when all expectations and even some predictions pointed to its assumption of roles commensurate with its economic strength? Beyond its modesty, why was Japan’s support of its most important ally so slow in coming and given in such a begrudging manner? The environmental model endeavors to answer these questions concerning Japan’s behavior by considering each of the levels of its foreign policy-making environment during the Gulf War.

THE INTERNATIONAL SYSTEM As in Europe, the end of the Cold War changed the geostrategic landscape of the Asia-Pacific. In the bipolar world, states in the region had clear ideas of the parameters of their respective international roles—that is, roles that were dictated by the dominant influence of the two superpowers. The end of bipolarity resulted in the emergence of an undefined form of multipolarity in the Asia-Pacific, bringing with it new questions concerning regional political and economic leadership. Richard Ellings and Edward Olsen called this multipolarity “skewed multipolarity” or a new balance of power in which Japan possesses the industrial power and the United States possesses the military strength, with China, India and Russia also being important players.17 Jeffrey Garten called the post-Cold War international system in the Asia-Pacific something similar; namely, a “skewed division of responsibilities.”18 Desmond Ball described the situation in the Asia-Pacific as “a very odd form of multipolarity, in which the various parties command quite different elements of power and the regional interests of which are far from coextensive.”19 Harry Harding found that the setting was better described as “multinodal” rather than multipolar, because the most powerful nation-states of the region were highly interdependent.20 These varied terminologies all point to an increased complexity in the Asia-Pacific. Moreover, the end of the superpower engagement left a military and political power vacuum in the region (much like that in the middle of Europe after the demise of the Warsaw Pact in early 1991) that had the potential to allow suppressed rivalries to flare up again. As the stron-

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gest regional economic and military power, Japan had opportunities to fill this security vacuum. Indeed, some considered Japan to be the only country capable of balancing China in the event that the United States decided to withdraw from the region.21 However, like those of the Federal Republic of Germany, Japan’s opportunities to exercise its regional power were curtailed because the United States remained the predominant military power in the Asia-Pacific after the Cold War ended. Additionally, Japan’s willingness to exercise power in the region was affected by China’s growing power and the Soviet Union’s remnants of power (i.e., its enormous inventory of nuclear weapons). The habit of thinking in terms of the East-West conflict and the postwar security dependency upon the United States created a constraint that Japan shared with the Federal Republic of Germany. It did not develop or possess the requisite physical capabilities, such as satellite monitoring capacity or extended force-projection abilities (i.e., bombers with an aerial-refueling capacity, long-range missiles or aircraft carriers) that are important in crisis management tasks. Part of the deficit in forceprojection aptitude was voluntary: during the Cold War the SDF imposed self-restrictions on equipment that was perceived to go beyond the needs for self-defense.22 Although, as Michael Green points out, Japan did possess an impressive array of high-technology missiles, tanks, warships and even aircraft, it did not possess the capabilities to get them quickly to the Gulf. Another damper on Japanese regional influence centered on the fact that Japan has no history of acting as a fair-minded and balanced military or regional power.

INTERNATIONAL RELATIONS There are several different countries whose relations with Japan influenced its foreign affairs during the Gulf War. Among the most important was Japan’s relationship with the United States. By virtue of its security role in the region and its close bilateral security partnership with Japan, the United States had been a de facto participant in Japanese foreign affairs during the Cold War. Indeed, the United States was intimately involved in Japanese policy making, acting as an opposition party to the ruling Liberal Democratic Party (LDP) through the practice of gaiatsu, or the LDP-led government’s use of external pressure from Washington to push through domestically controversial but necessary policies. However, the United States-Japan relationship was not unproblematic. Historical, cultural and trade ties between the two have contributed to mutual feelings of mistrust and misunderstanding. One source of tension lay within the security treaty itself: as Japan grew economically and began to compete with the United States, American leaders and academics began to argue that Japan did too little to pay for its own defense and, moreover, that it freeloaded on

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America’s defense budget. Academics, often called “revisionists,” who argue that Japan is a free rider include: Clyde Prestowitz, Pat Choate, Chalmers Johnson, Karel van Wolferen and James Fallows. The term revisionist specifically refers to non-Japanese writers who view Japan’s economy and society as dissimilar in important aspects from that of the United States and other Western free-market democracies. Revisionists often argued that the Japanese economic system was superior to the Anglo-American model and that it would become an economic threat to the West. For example, Clyde Prestowitz’s 1989 book Trading Places asserted that Japan was “already ahead in every significant technology” and was “about to become the hegemonic power of the globe, if it wasn’t already.”23 During the Gulf War, revisionists’ sentiments again became popular in the United States. This was, in part, for many of the same reasons that America was voicing strong expectations that Germany use its economic and military might to help ensure stability in Europe and participate more fully in the allied coalition against Saddam Hussein in the Gulf. The reasons included: the perception that America’s ability to project power in the Asia-Pacific had declined; the U.S. preoccupation with a growing U.S. budget deficit, the huge trade deficit with Japan and concerns about the long-term competitiveness of the American economy vis-à-vis Japan’s, and; the U.S. belief that Japan’s “front line” status and overtly defensive military posture was of limited value to the region’s security in the post-Cold War era. As a result of these issues, U.S. congressmen began arguing that after forty years of benefits the Japanese should now be willing to share in the direct costs of maintaining the alliance and global security by assuming a role in the multinational force sent to oust Iraqi soldiers from Kuwait. When Japan’s ultimate inaction in the Gulf War was coupled with overall doubts about Japan’s reliability as a partner in the Asia-Pacific, and then compounded with American resentment about the one-sided aspect of security relations with Japan, talk of pulling American troops out of Asia was the result. For example, Japan critic Pat Choate argued that relations with Japan should be “normalized” by having Japan provide for its own defense and spend up to 3 percent of its GDP on its own security. After Japan’s role in the Gulf War was well documented, Chalmers Johnson, the president of the Japan Policy Research Institute, made a similar argument. Johnson maintained that Japan will never take more responsibility for its own defense while the U.S. security treaty continued to guarantee it. As a result, he called on Washington to close down its bases in Japan and set Japan on a course that paid its own way. Johnson also claimed that the Japanese Ministry of Finance (MoF) knew that it had a good deal as “contributing $5 billion to the upkeep of U.S. troops in Japan is a budgetary windfall; it would be far more costly for Japan to finance its own defense.”24

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Such sentiments were not well received in Japan where many felt that Japan already made a substantial contribution to regional security (indeed more than pacifist Japan should) through its coverage of nearly 70 percent of the direct costs of American forces stationed on Japanese soil (roughly eight times more than Germany pays for the support of U.S. troops in Germany).25 Many in Japan further oppose the large American bases on the southern island of Okinawa for their perceived social costs and the cultural effects the Americans have on the indigenous population. After the rape of a 12-year-old Japanese schoolgirl on Okinawa by U.S. servicemen stationed there, many Japanese publicly wondered why their country even needed a military alliance with the United States, now that the Cold War was over.26 Additionally, the Japanese argued (as did the Germans) that when the Gulf War broke out Japan was already contributing enough to the world’s stability through its economic practices, and therefore, U.S. accusations that it was not sharing the security burden equitably in the Gulf War were unfair.27 Some Japanese argued that their contributions to the nonmilitary costs of international security, such as sustaining internal stability, social resilience, economic prosperity and political confidence building, were already significant.28 Others pointed out that Japanese low-interest, long-term loans and direct foreign investment, which had continually increased since the 1980s, also made Japan an important contributor to the nonmilitary aspects of global security. In the early 1990s, Hisashi Owada, Japan’s former vice foreign minister, argued, “It is in this broader setting that expectations with regard to Japan’s role in contributing to the maintenance of security in a global context should be considered.”29 Owada argued further that specific criticisms raised against Japan that it was not providing for its own security adequately were “less than constructive.” One should understand, Owada posited, that given Japan’s legacies in the region, its fulfillment of shared responsibilities for the maintenance of security in the region could only lie in the strengthening of these nonmilitary, often financially based, factors of security. Such non-military strategies of security fall within Japan’s concept of “comprehensive security.” In a 1990 interview with Asahi Shimbun, Vice Minister of Foreign Affairs Takakazu Kuriyama made similar remarks. Kuriyama said, “Japan should contribute to political stability and economic development in the Asia-Pacific region in nonmilitary ways.”30 Tokyo also became increasingly annoyed by the fact that it did not get more political credit for the large increases in foreign aid that it made in response to American pressure. Nor was it acknowledged that in the late 1980s Japan increased its aid to countries that were strategically important to the United States, such as Pakistan, Egypt, Turkey and pro-United States Central American countries.31 U.S.-Japan relations were compounded by trade problems. By the end of the Cold War, the United States had come to view Japan’s trade practices

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as unfair and unappreciative. Although the United States had encouraged the development of the Japanese economy through exceptionally favorable terms during the entire Cold War period, the Japanese were now unwilling to practice trade with America on equal terms. Selig Harrison and Clyde Prestowitz contended in early 1990 that: The recent controversial decisions to join in co-development and co-production of the Japanese FSX and South Korean FA-18 fighter aircraft are only the latest examples of a 40-year behavior pattern in which the United States has sacrificed its economic interests for what it regarded as military imperatives. Throughout much of the postwar period the United States accepted a substantial overvaluation of the dollar in relation to East Asian currencies in order to strengthen its allies economically and induce them to stay in the American camp. U.S. laws regulating unfair trade practices were rarely applied to the East Asian allies. Thus, in the late 1960s the Nixon administration ignored the dumping and collusion that led to the virtual disappearance of the U.S. consumer electronics industry. In the 1970s the Carter administration promoted co-production by approving the joint development of the F-15, then the most advanced U.S. fighter plane. . . . In 1985 the vast illegal dumping of semiconductor chips by Japanese manufacturers threatened the survival of the U.S. industry. Yet a high-level White House task force agreed only to a limited U.S. response after warnings from then National Security Adviser John Poindexter that any firm U.S. action might endanger potential Japanese support of the Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI) program.32

Other examples of Japan’s unfair trade with the United States included: Japan’s bilateral trade surplus with America (which grew substantially in the early 1990s); its imbalance in direct foreign investment; its propensity to block entry of foreign firms into Japanese industry through government regulation and quasi-official rule setting; its exclusive business practices that shut out new investors, and; its propensity to incite cartels and fix prices. An American economic recession in the late 1980s and early 1990s heightened American domestic demand for Japan to assume new global responsibilities. Japan, for its part, did not view its trade practices as unfair, but as different, or as “Asian,” based on consensus building and not on U.S. laissez-faire practices. The U.S. trade imbalance with Japan, many Japanese argued further, stemmed more from Americans’ propensity to live beyond their means and produce less than adequate goods. See, for example, the immensely popular 1989 book The Japan that Can Say “No” by Shintaro Ishihara and Akio Morita that sold a million copies in Japan.33 A later volume entitled The Japan That Can Still Say “No,” coauthored by Shoichi Watanabe and Kazuhisa Ogawa, was equally popular. Differences in opinion concerning trade imbalances led to an American propensity to “bash” Japan on its trade practices. Japan bashing, in turn, resulted in extremely low Japanese public opinion toward the Japanese-U.S. bilateral relationship during the Gulf War. Tensions between the two countries led some scholars

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and politicians to predict a split between the United States and Japan, even a war.34 However, such observations and predictions that the bilateral alliance’s usefulness had come to an end were exaggerated. Despite differences between the United States and Japan, neither was likely to find a dismantling of the U.S.-Japan Security Treaty an attractive proposition. Pat Choate’s argument that U.S.-Japanese relations could be “normalized” by having Japan provide for its own defense was, as one might expect, disputed both in Japan and in America. Ezra Vogel, a Harvard specialist on Japan who also served as a U.S. intelligence officer for East Asia, argued that, contrary to many revisionists’ premise, the U.S.-Japan alliance did not stunt Japan’s political development.35 More generally, most Japanese and Americans believed that the U.S.-Japan relationship remained a critical factor in the overall security of the Asia-Pacific. Japan similarly found the alternatives to the bilateral alliance—total pacifism or arming itself to the point where U.S. help was no longer needed—far less appealing. Although a hawkish minority in Japan viewed going it alone as more its style, most Japanese regarded the idea of a heavy-scale rearmament or a commitment to building a nuclear fighting capability as deplorable. In the mid-1990s, argues Professor Tadashi Aruga of Dokkyo University, there was actually less opposition in Japan to the security treaty it held with the United States than during the tensest period of the Cold War, when the Japanese were sharply split over the security treaty. In the post-Cold War era Aruga observed that more than two thirds of the Japanese population supported the security alliance with the United States.36 Many in Asia and in America acknowledged that the United States’ presence in the Asia-Pacific region was also important because Japan was still regarded with some apprehension. For example, the former commander of the U.S. Marine Corps in Japan, Major General Henry Stockpole, said in a March 1990 interview, “No one wants a rearmed, resurgent Japan. So we are a cap in the bottle, if you will.”37 Simon Duke concurs; he writes that Americans and the Japanese both realized that “an unfettered Japan embarking upon a military buildup to compensate for the loss of U.S. facilities would be a destabilizing influence in the region.”38 Japan’s relations with China and other Asian neighbors were also important factors in the immediate post-Cold War era. Indeed, in the early 1990s Japan began to emphasize improving relations with its Asian neighbors over maintaining strong ties with the West. This renewed interest in Asia can in part be explained by the fact that “Japan sees itself as being stationed at the crossroads between East and West,” writes Kurt Tong.39 “For the last century and a half,” Tong continues, “Japan’s leadership has rotated its attention between maximizing the benefits of Japan’s dealings with the West and maximizing its interests in Asia. Now Japan is once again at a historical juncture where it sees tradeoffs between associating

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with the West (especially the United States) and relating with Asia (China in particular).”40 Mike Mochizuki also argues that Japan increasingly looked toward Asia in the post-Cold War world. He outlines five reasons why this is the case: (i) the problematic future of U.S.-Japan trade relations; (ii) the end of the Cold War shifted long-standing fault lines in East Asian international relations (i.e., Seoul normalizing relations with Moscow and Beijing, and Beijing, in turn, improving its relations with Moscow); (iii) economic trends, such as the emergence of the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) and the EU, prompted Japan to look more carefully at Asia; (iv) the regional security environment became more uncertain at the end of the Cold War, and; (v) a focus on East Asia is consistent with Japan’s own international orientation, bureaucratic predilections and the orientation of its political elites.41 The escalation of the ongoing debate in Japan regarding the number and size of U.S. bases on Japanese soil is one manifestation of Japan’s movement toward Asia.42 Although Japan wanted to improve its relations with its neighbors at the end of the Cold War and intra-Asian trade was enjoying significant increases, the reality during the Gulf War was that neighborhood relations were uneasy. Many of Japan’s neighbors were rather wary of Japanese potential military power. As Michael Yahuda observes, “Japan is widely regarded within the region as possessing the technological capabilities to transform itself very rapidly indeed into a major strategic power. Should it be subject to the shock of American withdrawal, such is the Japanese sense of vulnerability . . . that it would become a major power in no time.”43 Robert Manning and Paula Stern make a similar argument. They write, “One need only glimpse China’s behavior—its expansive claims of Chinese sovereignty, forward defense doctrine, continued nuclear modernization, and efforts to attain rapid force projection capabilities—to conclude that historic suspicions of Japan still linger beneath the surface.”44 China had begun to moderate its approach to Japan after Tiananmen Square isolated it from virtually all major lender states. In fact, in 1990 Japan broke with the sanctions placed against China by the G-7 in July 1989. However, China returned to a more cautious approach after Japan’s decision to send navy ships to the Middle East. China followed this more guarded conduct despite the fact that fighting in the Gulf War had already ended and mines were for the most part already cleared.45 Not only were many Asian states wary of Japanese military potential, but Japan-Asian relations were fraught with tension over territorial disputes. In fact, soon after the end of the Cold War Japan became embroiled in one territorial dispute after another. Insular territorial clashes were a factor in Japan’s relations with China, South Korea and the Soviet Union. In the latter case, four islands in the Kurile chain, taken from the Japanese by the Soviets after World War II, persist in their capacity to raise sabers in both countries. In South Korea’s case, the dispute is over islands that lie be-

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tween the two in the Sea of Japan (or as the South Koreans call it, the East Sea). Although the dispute with South Korea is nearly a century old, it began to simmer anew because of the exclusive rights to exploit natural gas and fishery resources in a zone of 200 nautical miles, as laid down by the 1994 UN Convention on the Law of the Seas, for the declared owner of the uninhabited islands.46 Tension between Japan and the Korean peninsula is no recent affair. At their closest point, Japan and South Korea are only about 140 miles apart. Neither the possibility of a reunified Korea nor the secret development of ballistic missiles with longer ranges by North Korea would be welcome news in Japan. Writing on the Japanese-Korean relationship Kishone Mahbubani observes, “Traditionally, the Japanese have viewed Korea as a ‘dagger pointed at the heart of Japan.’ In the past, [the Japanese] have not hesitated to intervene in or invade Korea, leaving behind a rich residue of Korean distrust of Japan. Remarkably, forty-seven years after World War II, the Japanese have not even begun to reduce that distrust.”47 During the Cold War, Japan did not need to concern itself with security questions relating to Korea as two large Korean armies, with mutual support from their respective superpower guardians, threatened each other across the 38th parallel. But in the post-Cold War world, without strong communist friends propping up North Korea, the chances that Korea will unify are greater. If Korea were to unify, the successor state would inherit a formidable military capability within striking distance of Japan. Other adverse regional circumstances that affected Japan’s foreign affairs included: instability in the Philippines, Indonesia and Cambodia and the unknown ultimate fate of Hong Kong. Japan’s relations with the splintering Soviet Union, beyond territorial disputes, proved to be another important unknown factor in the region (technically, Japan and the USSR/Russia are still in a state of war with one another, as Japan refused to sign a peace treaty after the Second World War due to the aforementioned dispute over the southernmost islands in the Kurile chain).48 In general, Japan and the USSR had a troubled history of international relations that included the brutal Soviet treatment of 600,000 Japanese prisoners of war. The 1990–91 implosion and eventual collapse of the Soviet Union brought little improvement to Japanese-Russian relations. Japan’s predominant view of the USSR/Russia in the immediate post-communist era was that it had not changed much and that the G-7 should not rush Japan into providing substantial aid to the former communist superpower. The Soviets’ and later the Russians’ political problems as well as the general domestic instability of the huge former communist state supported Japanese views. As Daniel Yergin and Thane Gustafson observe, “Among all Western nations, Japan’s relations with Russia have been the worst since the breakup of the Soviet Union, and each is convinced that the other is seriously slighting it. The Japanese believe that the Russians do not take them as seriously nor treat them with the respect that they accord Europeans.”49

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It should also be pointed out that in the Asia-Pacific region there were no institutions to parallel those of the European Community when the Gulf War broke out. As a result, Japan’s relations with its neighbors were drastically different from Germany’s relations with its comembers in the European Community and NATO. No institutions existed despite the fact that since 1989 many heralded the emergence of a new “Pacific Century” built on a powerful emerging “Pacific Community” based on free trade and cooperation through such organizations as ASEAN, APEC and PECC (Pacific Economic Cooperation Conference).50 While it is true that these institutions already enjoyed a modicum of success in the early 1990s and Japan had been trying to improve its relations with them since the end of the Cold War, it is also true that the ties that bound the region together, especially northeast Asia with southeast Asia, were not as prevalent nor as strong as they were proclaimed to be. In fact, responses to Japan’s specific attempts to deepen relations between Tokyo and the members of ASEAN and APEC have been received coolly, in part, because Asian countries perceive Japan as ultimately toeing the American line.51 Comments made in late 1996 by Kazuo Ogura, Japan’s deputy vice-minister for foreign affairs, appear to support this view: The Cold-War structure has collapsed, and, almost simultaneously, the North-South economic and political confrontation has altered significantly; even today, however, Japan’s Asia policy can be explained for the most part as basically a policy toward America or a policy designed to play a role in America’s strategy for Asia. . . . This position precludes an independent Japanese strategy for Asia that contravenes America’s Asia strategy . . . One reason Japan has expressed strong reservations about the East Asian Economic Caucus proposed by Malaysia’s Prime Minister Mahathir bin Mohamad is that it includes elements that potentially conflict with America’s—and therefore Japan’s—Asia strategy.52

As a final point, it should be emphasized that the task of bringing a sense of community to the region is a daunting one. In spite of the fact that export growth for the Asia-Pacific was (and could again become) an engine for the global economy and a defining part of the post-Cold War international system, the Asia-Pacific’s vast geographical area, as well as its immense cultural, political and historical diversity make building a sense of common interests, responsibilities, values and even mutual respect, a difficult if not impossible task. As Robert Manning and Paula Stern observe, “Trade, investment, and a Pacific coastline do not necessarily make for a broader sense of community.”53 Difficulties also are encountered when one tries to establish exactly where such a community would begin and end. Although Europe also must address questions of who belongs in the “union,” the question of who belongs to the Asia-Pacific community is more complex and less clear. For example, does the region refer to all those nations and societies bordering the Pacific Ocean, in which case Mongolia

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and Laos would be excluded since they do not have a coastline, or is an Asia-Pacific community better understood in a subregional context? Identifiable subregions include: the North Pacific region, comprising China, Japan, North and South Korea, Hong Kong and Taiwan; the South East Asia region, comprising the ASEAN states and Indo-China; the South West Pacific region, including Australia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, and other island nation-states, and; the South Asia region, consisting of India, Bangladesh and Sri Lanka. Still, such sub-regions do not include the United States and Canada, which are important Pacific Ocean rim countries that would certainly also be important components in a region-wide community. This leads to the problem, once again, of drawing the community’s boundaries; should one include Mexico, Central American states and South American countries, which also share Pacific Ocean waters? One could also inquire, where does Russia fit? Complicating matters further is APEC, which includes Mexico and Chile as members, but excludes Russia, India, Vietnam and Myanmar. In addition to difficulties in defining the Asia-Pacific region, one soon encounters the problem of finding common ground on which to build a community. This problem arises despite increasing intra-regional trade and investment. The challenge with using trade and investment as a basis to build a community is that they have in reality been concentrated in subregional economic networks that do not promote overall regional cooperation. Subregional economic actors also exhibit a certain wariness toward larger economic trade areas. Manning and Stern make the argument that East Asia’s strong steady trade with the U.S. and the EU has globalized the Asia-Pacific region’s trade, offsetting any ability for the region to develop a trade community. “A glimpse at the trade patterns of most East Asian economies,” Manning and Stern write, “reveals trade roughly equally distributed between the United States, Europe, and the rest of Asia, but with intra-Asian trade and investment growing markedly faster than any other. This globalization factor undermines grandiose notions of a distinct Pacific community.”54 Manning and Stern find that the history of APEC illustrates their point, as it has yet to produce concrete results beyond creating a secretariat and holding regular top-level meetings. Lack of cooperation also results partially from the fact that no complex interdependence developed in the North-Asian region as it did in Western Europe, or as it seems to be developing in Southeast Asia between the members of ASEAN. Thus North Asians, in particular, have little if any experience in multilateral institutions and find it difficult to participate in them with other Asian states. Moreover, Western Europe was able to move toward regional integration because the fundamental disputes between the major European powers were laid to rest. This cannot be said of Northeast Asia.55 Additionally, at the end of the Cold War Japan still had not come to terms with its misdeeds in the Second World War, which caused

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further regional tension. Other unresolved complex security issues, such as that between Taiwan and China, translated into high military expenditures, particularly in the North Pacific area, and a very active conventional arms trade.56

SOCIETAL Surveys conducted at the outbreak of the Gulf War show that nearly 70 percent of the Japanese polled believed that the use of force in the Gulf was not justified under any circumstances.57 Many Japanese argued that instead of giving money to support the multinational effort to force back Saddam Hussein, Japan should continue to follow its Cold War policy of “one-country pacifism” and stay completely out of the conflict. Yoichi Funabashi writes, “This ‘one-country pacifism’ (ikkoku heiwashugi) reflected an isolationist tendency deriving from a sort of nationalism, the aversion to alliances, and the urge to be free of the Soviet-U.S. confrontation.”58 Some Japanese (as Hans-Dietrich Genscher did in the FRG) pointed out that the United States had made the grave mistake of supplying Saddam Hussein with weapons (while Japan sensibly restricted the sale of its weapons abroad) and that without America’s weapons Iraq would not have been able to invade Kuwait.59 Others felt that it did not matter much in the long run if Iraq ruled Kuwait as whoever possessed the oil wells had to sell the oil, and Japan would still have the money to buy it from whatever authoritarian system controlled it.60 Most Japanese also perceived that they were not adequately consulted before Washington launched the attack on Iraq. Ezra Vogel writes, “Many in Japan, long upset that smaller powers were permanent members of the Security Council, and that Japan with the second largest financial contributions to the United Nations was not, saw Japan as outside the circle of intimate discussions. The Gulf crisis fueled these deeper resentments about being excluded from permanent membership in the Security Council.”61 Others argued that the United States was forcing Japan to be an accomplice to a war they wanted no part of—that Japan was entrapped by the United States and dragged into a conflict that did not directly affect the Japanese national interest. Indeed, most Japanese viewed the strong American pressure to dispatch Japanese personnel to the Gulf as alarming; surely Washington had not fully exhausted the possibilities of nonmilitary sanctions. Negative Japanese reporting about U.S. motives in the months after the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait also contributed to lukewarm public support for the LDP’s proposed Japanese Peace Cooperation Corps. As pointed out in chapter 2, various scholars have written about the German and Japanese peoples’ propensity to want to opt out of the military burdens of maintaining regional and international security. Ian Buruma posits that both the German and the Japanese publics have exhib-

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ited a certain high-mindedness in their insistence on an exclusive use of nonmilitary strategies of security—often finding their abstention superior. Buruma argues that being the victims of the world’s only use of nuclear weapons has made the Japanese feel purified from their transgressions in the war and thus able to sit in judgment of others in the postwar period. “The A-bomb was a kind of divine punishment for Japanese militarism,” Buruma writes, “and having learned their lesson through this unique suffering, having been purified through hellfire and purgatory, so to speak, the Japanese people have earned the right, indeed have the sacred duty, to sit in judgment of others, specifically the United States, whenever they show signs of sinning against the ‘Hiroshima spirit.’ ”62 In a similar vein, Clyde Haberman of the New York Times wrote shortly after the Second World War that, “Anyone living in Japan could be forgiven the impression that World War Two began on August 6, 1945, when the United States dropped an atom-bomb on Hiroshima. . . . Hiroshima and Nagasaki enabled the Japanese to convince themselves that they, possibly along with the Jews, were the war’s prime victims.”63 Reinhard Drifte simply argues that American protection fostered a “very naive pacifism” in Japan.64 Elites in Japan were divided over the issue of whether or not Japan should play a greater role in the Gulf War. In general, one can argue that there was a neoconservative and a neoliberal outlook. David Arase discusses the differences between the neoconservatives and the neoliberals in Japan: The neo-liberal argument is represented by Masayoshi Takemura who envisions Japan as a welfare-oriented ‘small country that sparkles’ in the post-Cold War world. He affirms SDF participation in [peacekeeping operations], but he emphasizes Japan’s potential for non-military international cooperation and opposes Constitutional revision. . . . The neo-conservative viewpoint is being developed by Ichiro Ozawa, who calls for Constitutional revision and an expansion of the SDF’s international security role as a step toward becoming a normal country. He is not in favor of breaking the U.S.-Japan Security Treaty, but neither does he expect the U.S. to answer all of Japan’s needs.65

Many neoliberals sided with public sentiment in the Gulf War, believing that Japan should refrain from increasing its involvement in the multinational effort. They argued that the concept of “comprehensive security,” developed in the late 1970s and the early 1980s, was relevant in the Gulf War case. David Arase again: Comprehensive security meant the coordinated application of economic, political and, military instruments at three levels. At the global level it promoted such aims as arms control, better North-South relations, and free trade; at the level of country groupings . . . it called for the strengthening of ties through diplomacy and economic cooperation; and at the national level it advocated improvement of military

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capabilities, food security, and the enhancement of economic productivity and export competitiveness. This diffuse security structure differed from traditional Western concepts that centered on the use of force, but this difference reflected the implicit assumptions that Washington would continue to handle regional and global armed conflicts. . . . It added a military security agenda to the Yoshida Doctrine, but balanced this change by explicitly raising the cultivation of Japan’s economic power to the level of national security policy.66

Masayuki Tadokoro finds that post-Cold War Japanese foreign policy elites and academics can be divided into four categories: the conservatives; the proponents of a “normal state”; the “civilian power” advocates, and; the traditional nationalists.67 In dividing elites into four categories he goes beyond the neoconservative and neoliberal outlooks. Tadokoro finds that those he labels the conservatives, who might also be called passivists, want Japan to continue in its role as an economic giant and political and security midget. They are reluctant to change Japan’s existing positions in foreign affairs. Conservative elites are found in the Social Democratic Party and in the academic community in Japan. The proponents of a “normal state,” who can be described as positivists, want Japan to play a greater international role and take on more political and security responsibilities. The “civilian power” advocates favor a stronger Japanese role in nonmilitary areas of global stability through greater involvement in international organizations as well as a stronger Japanese commitment to environmental issues and human rights concerns. As a global civilian power, Japan could play a significant role in the international system through an “international pacifism” that contributes to the civilization of the international community. At the same time, civilian power advocates are against Japan becoming involved in military operations, even under UN auspices, preferring instead to promote Japanese potential for diplomatic operations. Traditional nationalists, as their name implies, strongly support a more active Japanese military policy in order to reassert traditional notions of state prestige. Political parties were also divided on the issue of Japan’s involvement in the Gulf War. The longtime permanent opposition parties, the Japan Socialist Party (JSP, renamed the Social Democratic Party after the 1993 shake-up), the Japan Communist Party (JCP) and the Democratic Socialist Party (DSP) advocated unarmed neutrality. Such a stance emerged out of the postwar ideology of these parties, especially the JSP. Hideo Otake argues that the JSP’s apprehension over the revival of militarism was the one determining factor for one-party dominance in Japan in the postwar era because it kept all military and security discussions squarely in the hands of the LDP.68 In way of contrast, by the end of the 1950s and early 1960s, the SPD in West Germany had come to agree with Adenauer’s security policy of cooperation with the Atlantic Alliance.69 A division of viewpoints also existed within the governing LDP. Many thought that Japan was doing too little in the Gulf War. In August 1990,

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Michio Watanabe, Japan’s foreign minister, publicly called for immediate dispatch of Japanese minesweepers to the Persian Gulf.70 The neoconservative Ichiro Ozawa, the LDP secretary-general at the time of the Gulf War, argued that Japan had an interest in gaining international acceptance as a “regular player” by deploying troops abroad just as any other credible international power would.71 Leading up to the ground operation in the Gulf, Ozawa met repeatedly with American officials and he helped Toshiki Kaifu put forth a proposal for a volunteer SDF contribution to the multinational effort. Despite the corps’ overt defensive characterization, the “UN Peace Cooperation Corps” bill did not even come to a vote in the lower chamber. It was after its death that Ozawa pushed for the eventual $13 billion financial contribution to the war. Following this legislative loss, Ozawa and various other MPs from the LDP formed a group called the “Special Research Committee on Japan’s Role in the Global Community.” In 1990 this group started drafting a new bill (the soon to be called “PKO bill” or Peacekeeping Operations bill) that would enable the Japanese to contribute forces in future crises. They also began calling for a new interpretation of Article 9 that would allow armed members of the Japanese Self-Defense Forces to take part in UN military peacekeeping activities. Those within the LDP who opposed an enhanced Japanese role in the Gulf War included Prime Minister Toshiki Kaifu, who decided not to utilize the crisis management mechanisms created in the 1980s designed to deal with events like those in the Persian Gulf. Status quo forces in the LDP also held sway in the rulings of the “Research Commission on the Constitution,” which decided against broadening the interpretation of Article 9. After the Special Research Committee on Japan’s Role in the Global Community introduced its PKO bill and it came up for discussion in the Diet, opposition forces also pressured Prime Minister Kiichi Miyazawa to delay its passage.

GOVERNMENTAL The most significant institution of the Japanese government that impacts foreign policy choices is its bureaucracy. Much of Japan’s bureaucratic structure can be better understood when one realizes that although Japan was forced to employ Western political institutions and laws in 1945–46, for the most part, these were merely superimposed on essentially prewar feudalistic institutions and principles. The result was the creation of Western-oriented laws and institutions that were often overlooked or not applicable to the reality of Japanese society. As Michael Green observes, “The Supreme Court, prime minister, political parties, and government were all relatively unimportant in defining Japan’s postwar political identity. Instead, feudalistic organizations within the state framework became the real sources of policy decisions and political competition: factions rather than parties; ministries rather than government; divisions

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rather than bureaux; corporations rather than communities.”72 The facade nature of modern Japanese democratic institutions is directly linked to the fact that much of its prewar conservative bureaucracy remained intact. Moreover, in the name of expediency for the rapid establishment of a viable government and the rapid restart of the Japanese economy, U.S. General Douglas MacArthur, the Supreme Commander Allied Forces (SCAP), purged few wartime bureaucrats.73 In particular, the Ministries of Foreign Affairs, Finance and Industry were able to manipulate U.S. occupation policy to protect their domains. In 1947 and 1948, after the rise of the communist threat in China, MacArthur even began restoring purged and acquitted war criminals to the political system, such as Kishi Nobusuke who later became prime minister. Michael Green again: “In 1950 . . . MacArthur’s deputy, General Charles Willoughby, formally rehabilitated the purged Hattori Takushiro, previously of Tojo’s general staff, and 400 of his associates to assist with the formation of the new police reserves.”74 The recentralization of power in Tokyo and the reversion to previous decision-making patterns prompted some to write that Japan was not a true democracy.75 For example, the controversial Dutch expert on Japan Karl van Wolferen labeled Japan the “elusive state” in a number of articles and books in the late 1980s, most notably The Enigma of Japanese Power: People and Politics in a Stateless Nation. Van Wolferen’s main argument was that the adopted Western governmental structures in Japan did not work the way Westerners normally expected from their own experiences with democracy.76 Instead, extensive destabilizing entities within and even outside of the central government searched for their own autonomy and rule. The result, according to van Wolferen, was that nobody was in charge of the Japanese government. The semiautonomous components, each endowed with powers that undermined the authority of the state, were not represented by any central body that in turn ruled them. Moreover, van Wolferen asserted that Japanese prime ministers were also incapable of real leadership, the legislature did not really legislate and laws were enforced only if they did not conflict with the interest of the powerful and the dominant ruling Liberal Democratic Party’s factions. Chalmers Johnson argued that it was not so much that nobody was in charge of ruling Japan but that it was a “rule by administration” rather than a rule based on a government of laws. The administration initiated and wrote legislation that affected their domain, compiled the annual budget and ensured their future viability by sending retired ex-bureaucrats to the Diet whose allegiances to their former employees ensured that the cycle continued.77 Francis Fukuyama and Kongdan Oh argue less controversially, “To greatly simplify a complex situation, it could be said that politicians propose and pass laws that are good for business (and sometimes the rest of society), business supports those politicians who provide a favorable business environment, and the bureaucracy runs things.”78

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In the postwar era many links developed among bureaucrats, politicians and businessmen that further strengthened the bureaucracy’s position. These links developed firstly because all three groups were able to exploit the social network of elite schools and universities in Japan. This, in turn, created an insider’s infrastructure or “old boy” network that excluded most segments of society.79 Secondly, the ties between these three entities were further strengthened by various convenient practices. For example, the ties between the bureaucracy and business were strengthened by the practice known as “descent from heaven,” in which retiring bureaucrats received lucrative positions in the private business sector. Ties between business and government were also supported by the practice of giving huge legal and illegal donations to the LDP to insure that pro-business legislation would be passed. The process was further propelled by the fact that bureaucrats created a complicated and costly regulatory system.80 MPs thus were compelled to have the appropriate network of contacts to secure licenses, grants and government resources for local development projects which they, in turn, needed to secure their future election.81 The resultant “iron triangle” (sometimes called the “1955 system”)82 ultimately made Japanese policy during most of the postwar era. This meant that policy making rested more in the hands of an unelected, self-appointed group of officials than it rested with elected officials accountable through public elections.83 Even the elections process hindered the public’s role in policy making. After a parliament was dismissed, allowing for an election to be held, campaigns were allocated roughly two weeks, which did not give the public much time to access the various candidates’ views on issues.84 Although this system proved able to make Japan economically prosperous during much of the Cold War, it nevertheless hindered the making and implementing of important policy. Indeed, the corrupt, secret system proved generally unable to articulate policy effectively or deal with domestic and international crises.85 Despite the fact that each bureaucracy was adept at running its own ministerial business, the rivalry and conflict of interest between the ministries, sometimes even splits between agencies within certain ministries, resulted in deadlock on major policy decisions. As Michael Yahuda observes, MITI [Ministry of International Trade and Industry] was primarily concerned with the promotion of Japanese economic interests based on its domestic industrial constituency; MoF [Ministry of Finance] was concerned with limiting budgetary expenditure; MAFF [Ministry of Fisheries and Food] was concerned with defending farming and fishing interests and it benefited from an electoral system that was skewed in favor of farmers; and the MFA [Ministry of Foreign Affairs], bereft of an obvious domestic constituency, was in a relatively weak position as it sought to reconcile the domestic, not to say parochial thrust of the external dimensions of Japan’s interest, with the demands made upon Japan primarily by the United States.86

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As a consequence, the decision-making process in key areas of Japanese foreign policy was horribly slow. Howard Baker and Ellen Frost commented upon the delayed decision-making process in the Gulf War: “a glacial and seemingly grudging pattern of decision-making that undermines Japan in American eyes and tarnishes the value of the concession or contribution in question.”87 In many cases, foreign policy changed only after immense outside pressure, most notably from the United States, was applied. Japanese politicians were known to regularly exacerbate U.S. pressure because some issues, they believed, could not be rectified through the normal bureaucracy-dominated process. Such tactics were necessary because the sheer effort involved in making far-reaching, coordinated, multi-ministry proposals was immense and often impossible. In fact, the government became adept at simply reacting to U.S. demands and policy initiatives rather than in proposing its own plans. This inability to take unprompted action was certainly evident in the way Japan handled the Gulf War. Aurelia George observes, “The actual sequence of events that culminated in the successful launching of the PKO proposal exemplified the classic ‘pressure-response’ pattern exhibited by so much of Japan’s international behavior.”88 Yoichi Funabashi contends that the use of such strategies that exacerbated American pressure also resulted in a psychology of dependency which, in turn, invited foreign pressure to help Japan with the formation of its foreign policy.89 As a further consequence, the Foreign Ministry never developed an effective foreign policy decision-making apparatus geared toward future goals.90 The need for outside pressure in the policy-making process and its glacial aspect often translated into a general inability on the part of Japan to deal with global emergencies. The handling of the crisis in the Taiwan Straits and the hostage emergency at the Japanese embassy in Peru serve as recent illustrations. Moreover, as The Economist points out, it is not just international crises that Japan seems unable to cope with: “Even domestic emergencies, such as the Kobe earthquake and the nerve-gas attack in the Tokyo subway, seem to be badly handled by the Japanese government, at least initially. Indeed, Japan seems to go to pieces in a crisis.”91 Japanese foreign ministry officials acknowledge privately that any crisis in Korea would paralyze decision making in Tokyo.92 Being able to act decisively in global crises like the Gulf War is furthered impeded by the fact that avoiding conflict and giving in to the demands of terrorists or buying their way out of international jams has become a way of life for Japanese officials. Japanese companies readily pay huge sums of ransom money to free kidnapped executives abroad instead of turning to state-created “special forces” that might use military force in some cases to solve international problems and protect Japanese citizens’ interests abroad. Reinhard Drifte

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calls such behavior Japan’s “natural inclination” to avoid direct confrontation.93 Finally, it should be observed that the Japanese public, to some extent, supports the iron triangle’s hold on postwar policy making. It does so by encouraging politicians to continue the system that brings “home” public works perks and money handouts at community events. Masaru Tamamoto argues, “Not only are politicians expected to bring to their electoral districts such government largess as new roads, school buildings, and other public works, they must disperse money at every significant wedding, funeral, and festivity.”94 This situation led some politicians to complain that they were the victims in the corruption system: “One LDP member, announcing his resignation from political life in 1990, angrily denounced the electorate, blaming the corruption of the system on the stupidity of the people. He had lost his seat in Parliament after waging an expensive campaign.”95 Unfortunately, any reform of this policy-making system has been hindered by key proponents of reform, such as Ichiro Ozawa, Tsutomu Hata and Masayoshi Takemura, who failed to articulate any effective strategies of reform.96 Reform actions taken in the early 1990s against the entrenched bureaucracy and corrupt money politics even appeared to encumber needed policy making. For example, ministry officials found that the newly installed and relatively inexperienced reform-minded officials “were in many cases easier to manipulate than those from the LDP.”97 The subsequent June 1994 collapse of the reform-driven parties further enhanced the power of the bureaucratic leg of the triangle because the decades-old, mutually-supporting ties with the LDP had been broken. The LDP scrambled to reconstruct them after they came back into power, in order to get things done in the traditional palm-greasing manner. But the bureaucrats required more grease than before. Reform of the current Japanese system appears to be not only difficult but not altogether beneficial if it is not done across the board and on all levels of the system. Another example of reform measures actually hindering Japanese policy making is found in the area of fiscal reform. A wave of bureaucracy bashing has recently taken hold in Japan (for many good reasons) which has, in turn, undermined the bureaucracy to the point that it is not able to restrain the excesses of pork-barrel spending that many politicians practice in order to stay elected. The Economist reports, “Faced with relentless lobbying by politicians demanding handouts for their sponsors, the finance ministry has simply capitulated.”98 The principal autonomous bureaucracy that is involved in the making of Japanese foreign policy is the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. However, as pointed out above, the Ministry of Fisheries and Food, the Ministry of International Trade and Industry and the Ministry of Finance are also involved in foreign policy making while the Japan Defense Agency (JDA), which will be discussed separately below, plays an important role in the

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making of security policy. The MFA’s role in security policy in particular can be traced to its part in the negotiations of the U.S.-Japan San Francisco Security Treaty in 1951 as well as the part it played while Japan was occupied by U.S. forces. During the early 1950s, the MFA was in charge of security policy as a function of the overall relationship with the United States.99 As a result, it became the “guardian” of the relationship with the United States, subordinating all other foreign and security issues to the keeping of this bilateral relationship. In this role it often came into conflict with other ministries; for example, with MITI over the flow of militarily relevant technology between the United States and Japan. Given the fact that the MFA does not enjoy the backing of a domestic constituency or interest group as do other ministries—for example, MITI must think of businessmen first and MAFF must think of farmers and fishermen first—the Ministry of Foreign Affairs developed into a mediator that tries to remind other ministries that their actions have implications for Japan’s international relations, especially those bilateral relations with America. This lack of constituency also made the MFA structurally weak. The MFA’s position was further undermined by the fact that Japan lacks a strong executive. Strong executives, like Yoshida and Nakasone, were able to act as a “substitute” for the MFA’s structural weakness.100 The Japan Defense Agency was formed in the late 1950s under Yoshida. Its given task was to administer the Self-Defense Forces, including the army, navy and air force. Immediately after its creation the JDA moved to strengthen naval and air forces as well as its own role in defense coordination. But the political and legal constraints associated with Article 9 rendered the JDA, as well as the SDF, comparatively weak bureaucratic players on defense and procurement issues. These constraints proved to be beneficial in the immediate postwar era as much of what the Defense Agency advocated was for nationalist reasons and not out of genuine concern for strategy nor the need for defense against a possible attack from the Soviet Union. Indeed, the nationalist-leaning agency consistently proposed that it be reorganized and upgraded to a ministry level, having the authority to coordinate national security policy. However, these proposals encountered opposition from the government and other ministries in addition to that from the opposition parties. The desire to increase the Defense Agency’s role is also hindered by the fact that it is effectively “colonized” by Bureau and Division Directors transferred from other more powerful ministries and, as a result, has little institutional autonomy.101 Michael Green writes that “bureaucratically, the JDA has been dependent on the National Police Agency or the Finance Ministry for filling the top bureaucratic post of Administrative Vice Minister, with the Procurement Bureau led by a MITI official, the Accounting Bureau by an MoF official, and the Counselor for International Affairs by an MoF official.”102 The civilians from other ministries are also clearly superior to the uni-

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formed administrators in the JDA.103 Only when strong personalities such as Yasuhiro Nakasone (agency directory general in 1970) and Seiki Nishihiro ( late 1980s) were heading the JDA was it able to break free of the bureaucratic clutches of other more powerful ministries.104 The MoF, in particular, constantly hindered the JDA by refusing to allow funds to be allocated for defense. Within the Japanese institutional framework, a consideration of the U.S.-imposed Peace Constitution is also in order. It intended, among other things, to demilitarize Japan. Chapter 2, titled “The Renunciation of War,” includes as its only article the much debated ninth: “Aspiring sincerely to an international peace based on justice and order, the Japanese people forever renounce war as a sovereign right of the nation and the threat or use of force as means of settling international disputes. In order to accomplish this aim, land, sea, and air forces, as well as other war potential, will never be maintained. The right of belligerency of the state will not be recognized.” As in Germany’s case, such renouncements and other provisions (i.e., demilitarization and restrictions upon the size of armed forces and the production of certain strategic weapons systems) allayed the immediate postwar fears of military revanchism but scarcely provided for a constructive defensive role to be played by Japan itself. In short, Japan was left not only defeated but reliant for most of its foreseeable future defense upon an external provider in the form of the United States. The only permissible security role for Japan was the provision of self-defense forces in accordance with the generally recognized right under public international law to self-defense (as enshrined in, for example, Article 51 of the UN Charter) based, in turn, on Augustian notions of “just war” (which include the right of the victor to impose a reasonable or “just” peace). However, the circumstances under which the SDF was legalized were regarded by many Japanese as dubious and unconstitutional. Most Japanese had welcomed the Peace Constitution after the war, being distrustful of the military generals who led them into war. Thus, when a Japanese military force was created soon after the war at the behest of the Americans, many Japanese felt that the Americans were forcing them to subvert their own new constitution. Under Article 9’s pacifist wording, which is more binding and explicit than that found in the charter of the United Nations, many argued that no military forces could exist in Japan. Not only did the constitution expressly prohibit Japan from engaging in military action, pacifists argued, but Article 9 prevented Japan from engaging in “collective defense” arrangements as well. This meant that Japan’s alliance with the United States was one sided: Japan would not fight for its ally, or with it for their common interests, while the United States was committed to defend Japanese territory. Despite general conservative interpretations of the “Peace Constitution” and its Article 9, the latter has undergone some qualified reinterpretation. For example, the constitution was reinvented to al-

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low the creation of the Self-Defense Forces (SDF) in 1956. It was reworked again in 1960 to allow the mutual security pact with the United States to be signed and implemented. Before moving on to the examination of the next level, a consideration of Japan’s defined national interests is in order. Like that of the Federal Republic of Germany, Japanese foreign policy consistently pursued national goals through supranational means. Additionally, Japan, as did Germany, found it difficult to define any national goals other than economic expansion. During the Gulf War, however, there was a debate in Japan concerning its national interest beyond the mere economic as well as a discussion on what kind of international role Japan should play in the post-Cold War world. Michael Green argues that there were two mainstream schools involved in this debate, which he labeled the “great power internationalists” and the “civilian internationalists.”105 The former promoted: expansion of host-nation support for U.S. forces in Japan; enhanced cooperation with U.S. forces in the Asia-Pacific region; heightened technological cooperation with the United States, including joint development of a theater missile defense; active participation in UN peacekeeping, and; a reinterpretation of the Japanese constitution to affirm the rights of collective security and defense. Ichiro Ozawa is the most prominent person associated with the great power internationalists but other neoconservative party members advocated these ideas as well. In contrast, the civilian internationalists, who are associated with the more neoliberal parties, believed that Japan’s interests lay in contributing to world affairs primarily through nonmilitary means. They argued for a strictly defensive military doctrine and for regional and global arms control. Civilian internationalists also contended that international security should be maintained primarily through foreign aid and other nonmilitary action.

ROLES Many of the individuals occupying certain roles that were relevant to the German discussion were not important agents in the Japanese policy-making environment during the Gulf War. For example, the executive, in this case the prime minister, did not have a great deal of impact. As discussed above, the prime minister has little power over the most powerful bureaucracies, such as MITI, MFA and the MoF. The frequent changes of the prime minister and the appointment of often weak individuals to the post tended in general to leave the outside world confused and the Japanese electorate apathetic. In reality political power lay with faction chiefs who often gained support by “buying” it rather than through proposing a popular policy platform. Faction leaders did not want their power marginalized by a charismatic or dynamic leader. As a result, LDP faction leaders consistently chose noncontroversial prime ministers whose strings they pulled behind

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the scenes. The practice of choosing the prime minister also helped ensure that this post was not influential to the policy-making process. Instead of being elected by the Japanese public, with an approved mandate, a prime minister gained his position completely through political party faction infighting and compromise. As a consequence, prime ministers were “elected” in the “back room” in a deal among competing factions of the LDP. If the prime minister proved to have any leadership qualities he might upset the balance and would most likely not remain in office for long. Thus prime ministers tended to be good at consultation and accommodation rather than being fresh and/or dynamic leaders. The further inability of the Japanese prime minister to exercise emergency powers in crisis situations meant that the position was never able to develop over time into a strong executive office. The rapid turnover of staff in the Prime Minister’s Office (PMO) meant that prime ministers did not gather strength over time by creating a strong executive administration that could pull together and disseminate information on his behalf. The high level of staff turnover in the bureaucracy directly answerable to the prime minister was further complicated by the fact that most of the staff making up the PMO were on loan from other ministries.106 Finally, as prime ministers were not elected by the public for their particular convictions or campaign promises, they could not assume office with a running agenda approved by the people. INDIVIDUALS During the Gulf War the constrained parameters of the prime minister’s office were in evidence. The first prime minister to preside in the post-Cold War era was Toshiki Kaifu, who took office in August 1989. Kaifu gained the post as a result of a scandal, the “Recruit affair” which wracked the LDP’s leadership and effectively paralyzed the Japanese government for a time.107 Because Kaifu was relatively young (fifty-eight) and untainted in the scandal he was put forward as the LDP’s candidate for prime minister. However, Kaifu lacked experience and he originated from the smallest LDP faction, with the least amount of party influence. Still, his uncorrupt image quickly made him popular among the Japanese electorate. He also enjoyed a close relationship with U.S. President Bush. In fact, in 1990, Kaifu agreed with Bush’s desire to have Japan become a critical alliance partner in Asia. In a Foreign Policy article dating from that time, Kaifu wrote: A healthy relationship between Japan and the United States is important not just to our two countries but also to the rest of the world. Our two countries together account for about 40 percent of the world’s collective gross national product, and we thus share a heavy obligation to contribute to global peace and prosperity through joint efforts to deal with problems now facing the entire human race. This is the con-

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text in which President George Bush and I intend to pursue what we have labeled a “global partnership.”108

Despite his popularity and his amiable relationship with Washington, Kaifu was unable to persuade the Japanese parliament to pass a United Nations Peace Cooperation Corps bill, which would have allowed the creation of a corps of Japanese peacekeepers (including but separate from the Self-Defense Forces) to take part in international peacekeeping operations—in this case to take part in the Multinational Task Force in the Gulf War. The bill failed in spite of the fact that the all-volunteer corps could not use or threaten to use force and would carry only side-arms with the strict stipulation that they be used only in “self-defense.”109 Kaifu argued that such a restricted overseas peacekeeping force would not violate the constitution’s ban on collective defense arrangements (shudan boei) since UN peacekeeping operations were not defense operations but rather “guaranteeing collective security operations” (shudanteki anzen).110 Unfortunately, the creation of a corps consisting of transferred SDF personnel was confusing and the cause of strong criticism. In the end, Kaifu’s arguments did not sway a majority in the Diet nor did his small LDP faction carry much weight within his party. The next prime minister, the intellectual Kiichi Miyazawa, did not prove to be a more adroit leader than Kaifu. Miyazawa entered office in November 1991 while the ruckus over passing the Peacekeeping Operations bill was in full swing. Immediately, he exacerbated this dispute by introducing his International Contribution Tax, a tax on beer and tobacco in Japan to be put into a fund that could be drawn on in future international crisis like the Gulf War. Miyazawa argued that the idea behind the tax was to ensure that Japan would not hesitate in the future when called upon to contribute to international peacekeeping missions. However, this tax proposal quickly died. Meanwhile, the dispute over the PKO bill effectively polarized the parliament in mid-1992, and Miyazawa’s tactics of trying to muscle it through on the back of the LDP’s majority put him at great odds with opposition parties. Much to Miyazawa’s embarrassment, the 137 members of the Social Democrats in the Lower House submitted their resignations on the morning of the final vote for the bill along with representatives of the United Social Democratic Party. Under Japanese law, however, an MP’s resignation during a parliamentary session does not take effect unless approved. As the House Speaker Yoshi Sakurauchi refused the opposition’s demand to resign and all members boycotted the final voting session, the PKO bill was passed by the LDP majority. In this way Miyazawa was able to see the PKO bill through but at the eventual cost of his post as prime minister. In the following “routine” no-confidence vote against Miyazawa, for the first time since its formation, the Liberal Democratic Party fractured and eventually split into several smaller parties.

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Other prominent individuals include Ichiro Ozawa, who is both an influential and controversial figure in Japanese politics. He was also the chief spokesperson for reform in Japan during the Gulf War. After the Gulf War, when he was still a member of the LDP, he chaired the ad hoc LDP study group, the “Special Research Committee on Japan’s Role in the Global Community.” Ozawa’s personal formula for rebuilding Japan was elaborated in his book Blueprint for a New Japan in which he calls for no less than giving the government the instruments necessary to calculate and articulate Japanese national interest. Together with Morihiro Hosokawa, Ozawa also proposed many needed electoral reforms (which did not pass until January 1994), began apologizing for Japanese actions in the Second World War and took some initial steps toward deregulation of the Japanese economy. Ozawa also is the most vocal person in Japan today calling for the government to actively seek a seat on the UN Security Council and to use such a seat as a platform for advancing regional political agendas. In tandem, Ozawa envisions a Japan that participates in UN-sanctioned missions. With this in mind, he suggests the creation of a standby force separate from the Self-Defense Forces, which would be available for UN peacekeeping duties whenever called upon by the UNSC and the secretary general. He also would like to see Japan cast off those aspects of Article 9 orthodoxy inhibiting the country’s ability to play a greater diplomatic and military role in ensuring global stability.111 “In sum,” according to Edward Desmond, “[Ozawa] wants to create a Japan that accepts the responsibilities of a great power and invites envy because of its quality of life. His goal, he writes, is for people to think of a ‘Japanese dream’ in the same way people the world over understand the American dream.”112 Indeed, Ozawa is a great admirer of America. In return, many Americans hail him as the new reformer that Japan needs. Immense public interest in Ozawa’s book appears to indicate a growing public affinity for his brand of change. However, one should not come to this conclusion too quickly or discount the skepticism that the Japanese public also holds vis-à-vis Ozawa and his plans. Edward Desmond again: He is a figure beset with contradictions. Ozawa epitomizes what Japan has been—low-profile, cautious, industrious, and opaquely corrupt. He was a classic back-room LDP manipulator, a chief lieutenant to two of the LDP’s most corrupt faction bosses, Kakuei Tanaka and Shin Kanemaru. Ozawa served the latter as his foremost deal-maker and personally made and broke a series of LDP prime ministers. In short, Ozawa’s transformation into crusader for a more open, “normal” political system strikes many of his countrymen as opportunism or, worse, hypocrisy.113

Because of Ozawa’s links to Tanaka and Kanemaru, and the Japanese public’s perception of him as slippery, it often seems that Ozawa is more popular in the United States than in Japan. Not only is Ozawa a controversial figure in

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the minds of the Japanese public, he is disliked and unpopular with many of his own party or coalition comembers as well. First, many MPs oppose his reforms because they threaten their elected positions. Second, Ozawa’s personal authoritarian and brusque style has left him with a reputation as an overly arrogant fellow among his associates. Third, his dislike of traditional consensus-style politics is unnerving and worrying to elder Japanese parliamentarians who are unwilling to back his means of obtaining reform. Ozawa was also hindered during the Gulf War by ideological differences within the LDP. The more liberal part of the LDP was against his push to let Japanese troops fight abroad in UN peacekeeping missions. Daily newspapers were also against him. Indeed newspapers have written that his calls for strong leadership mask a hidden reactionary nationalist bent.114 Another important individual in Japan who influenced the policy debate concerning Japan’s role in the Gulf War, and who also happens to oppose Ozawa’s ideas, is the neoliberal Masayoshi Takemura. Takemura’s “civilian internationalist” vision of Japan is one of the status quo: to sustain the management practices and traditional networks of the 1955 system and as a nation-state to remain a political and security dwarf. Japan’s proper role, argues Takemura, should be “a small country that shines with brilliance.”115 Contrary to Ozawa, he maintains that Japan has little to gain from seeking expanded roles in UN peacekeeping nor should it seek a permanent seat on the UNSC. Moreover, he argues that Ozawa’s idea of making Japan a “normal country” is a dangerous throwback to great power politics that could pave the way for Japan to become a military power again. A discussion of individuals in Japan would be incomplete if consideration of the nationalist Shintaro Ishihara was left out. Ishihara was Japan’s transport minister in the late 1980s and is currently (2001) governor of Tokyo. In his internationally acclaimed book The Japan That Can Say No (1989) Ishihara argues that Japan should create an autonomous foreign and security policy free of the United States.116 He believes that it is only the lack of a fully autonomous defense production capability that prevents Japan from becoming a great power. Japan could easily create such an autonomous defense capability, Ishihara contends, because it has better technology and a healthier economic system than the United States (a perspective written from the late 1980s and early 1990s). Ishihara’s views on Japan’s role in the Gulf War followed a similar line of argument: “Japan’s blind submission to U.S. pressure to pay $13 billion for the Gulf War was not only foolish but also a demonstration that Japan is an uncritical follower of misguided ‘American justice.’ ”117 Ishihara’s nationalist statements concerning Japanese autonomy were well received by many in Japan. CONCLUSION As it did for the Federal Republic of Germany, the Gulf War highlighted the contradictions in international expectations and Japan’s opportunities

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and willingness regarding political and military involvement in the maintenance of regional and world security in the post-Cold War world. Apparently, making sense of these contradictions was not within the bounds of Japanese policy-making capabilities. A schematic representation of the case study is found in Figure 4.1. Comparable to Germany’s standing in Europe, Japan emerged as the undisputed industrial power in its region at the Cold War’s end, while the United States remained the dominant military power. This situation gave rise to the notion of “skewed polarity,” which in turn presented Japan with some latitude to act both regionally and globally. Japan’s opportunities to assume a greater politico-military role emerged out of its economic and military strength. However, Japan did not possess the requisite physical capabilities that are important in crisis management tasks nor did it have experience in acting as a fair-minded and balanced military or regional power. The characteristics of Japan’s international relations climate also paralleled Germany’s. As it did for Bonn, the Gulf War underscored the inconsistencies in the views held by important states. The United States in particular pressured Japan, voicing strong expectations that Japan use its economic and military might to help ensure stability in the Middle East and participate more fully in the allied coalition against Saddam Hussein. Japan’s reluctance to participate, the general doubts about its reliability as a partner in the Asia-Pacific and American resentment about the one-sided character of security relations with Japan resulted in an increase in the revisionist rhetoric in the United States. Asian states were apprehensive and wary toward the idea that Japan assume a larger role in solving international military conflicts, such as the ousting of Saddam Hussein from Kuwait. Japan’s relations with the disintegrating USSR were also a factor: not only was Japan locked in a territorial dispute with the USSR, it was technically still at war with the Soviet state. Additionally, no strong institutions existed in Asia that could foster a Japanese regional role. This aspect hindered Japan’s opportunities in the Gulf War. See chapter 6 for a detailed discussion of this difference between Japan and the FRG’s international relations environment. The societal level contained several factors that negatively influenced Japan’s willingness to more actively participate in the Gulf War. Like Germany, Japan had significant psychological barriers as a result of the postwar settlement. Psychologically, the trauma of its failure in the Second World War and the discrediting of its military helped induce a more taciturn foreign policy orientation and a deep reluctance to use military force of any sort. As a result, the Japanese public was extremely reluctant to see Japan’s Cold War diplomacy, dictated by the Peace Constitution and the Yoshida Doctrine, cast off in the post-Cold War era. Various arguments in the public dialogue at the time reflected the public’s unwillingness to uphold Japanese involvement in the fight against Saddam Hussein. Public

Figure 4.1 Japan’s foreign and security policy-making process during the Gulf War.

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contentions included: that without America’s weapons Iraq would not have been able to invade Kuwait; that it did not matter much in the long run who possessed the oil wells in the region, and; that the United States was forcing Japan to be an accomplice in a war it wanted no part of. Economic factors also lessened Japan’s willingness to assume a greater security stature at the Cold War’s end. The adverse effects of the bursting of Japan’s economic “bubble” in the late 1980s were felt at around the time the Gulf War started. The majority of elites also opposed the idea that Japan should assume a greater role in the Gulf. For instance, Masayoshi Takemura argued that Japan’s proper role should remain a political dwarf while acting as an economic giant. Within the LDP a division of viewpoints existed. Michio Watanabe and Ichiro Ozawa thought that Japan was doing too little in the Gulf War while others did not see Japanese participation in the Gulf as important or viable. The latter forces were more powerful in the ruling party and consequently the UN Peace Cooperation Corps bill did not even come to a vote in the lower chamber of the Diet and was allowed to die. The opposition parties, especially the Social Democrats, were in outright opposition to Ozawa and others who wanted Japan to be a “regular player.” The fourth level of the environmental model, the governmental level, generated few opportunities for Japan to enhance its role in the Gulf War. The structure of the Japanese bureaucracy’s “1955 system” worked tolerably well for domestic purposes and economic prosperity during the postwar years, but it did not allow for efficiently made foreign policy. Additionally, it proved extremely difficult to develop a foreign policy beyond “checkbook diplomacy.” During the Cold War, Japan had abdicated political and military leadership roles to the United States. In the 1970s, Prime Minister Tadeo Miki’s Cabinet made this decision formal. As a result, the Foreign Ministry never developed an effective foreign policy decision-making apparatus, and it was unable to decide how to exercise Japanese economic and military power when Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait. Similarly, Japan was constrained by the fact that it found it difficult to act in global crises. Avoiding conflict and giving in to the demands of terrorists or buying its way out of international jams appeared to be Japan’s preferred method of dealing with global emergencies. Japan also faced legal constraints such as the Peace Constitution, which was written to restrict the role of the military. But unlike Germany’s similar constitutional limitations, the use of the Japanese army, the SDF, was further hampered by constitutional questions concerning its very legitimacy. The level “roles” also provided few opportunities for Japan. Beyond the bureaucracy, many of the roles that were relevant to the German discussion were not important agents in the Japanese policy-making environment. The frequent change of prime ministers and the appointment of weak individuals to senior political positions tended to leave the outside

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world confused and often resulted in complete paralysis of policy making in important areas. Real political power lay with party faction chiefs who often gained support by “buying” it rather than through proposing a popular policy platform. Factional politics were also limiting factors in the Gulf War. Toshiki Kaifu came from the smallest LDP faction with the least amount of party influence. As a result, Kaifu’s influence was marginal. This was despite his popularity among the Japanese electorate and his excellent rapport with U.S. President Bush. Ichiro Ozawa was both an influential and controversial figure in Japanese politics at the time. He was the chief spokesperson for Japanese participation in UN-sanctioned missions, such as the Gulf War. In opposition to Ozawa was the neoliberal Masayoshi Takemura whose vision for Japan was “a small country that shines with brilliance.” The nationalist Shintaro Ishihara was also influential at the time. As he did in his The Japan That Can Say No, Ishihara disparaged what he viewed as Japan’s blind submission to American misguided justice. Thus, roles and individuals created few chances for Japan in the Gulf War and aside from Ozawa leaders were unwilling to avail themselves of the opportunities presented to Japan at the Cold War’s end. The culmination of these non-opportunistic factors resulted in Japan’s inability to act decisively even after all the other major and middle powers (except Germany, of course) had already joined in the multilateral effort against Saddam Hussein.

NOTES 1. William J. Crowe, Jr., and Alan D. Romberg. 1991. “Rethinking Security in the Pacific.” Foreign Affairs. 70(20): 136. 2. See chapter 8. 3. Defense of Japan. 1985. Japanese White Paper, Japan Defense Agency. p. 86. 4. Akira Iriye. 1991. “Japan’s Defense Strategy.” The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 513: 43. 5. Robert W. Tucker. 1990. “1989 and All That.” Foreign Affairs 69(4):103. 6. Michael J. Green. 1995a. Arming Japan. New York: Columbia University Press. pp. 10, 20. See also Michael Yahuda. 1996. The International Politics of the Asia-Pacific, 1945–1995. New York: Routledge. p. 47. 7. Ezra F.Vogel. 1994. “Japan as Number One in Asia.” In The United States, Japan, and Asia, ed. Gerald L. Curtis. New York: W. W. Norton. p. 177. 8. T.J. Pempel highlights other economic facts, including, “Australia’s total economy is only one-fifteenth that of Japan’s. As to the [Four Asian Tigers], Japan’s economy is about twenty times as large as Taiwans’s and fifteen times as large as Korea’s . . . and thirty times larger than Indonesia’s and nearly one hundred times larger than Singapore’s.” See Pempel. 1997. “Transpacific Torii: Japan and the Emerging Asian Regionalism.” In Network Power: Japan and Asia, eds. Peter J. Katzenstein and Takashi Shiraishi. p. 71. As regards to foreign aid, although Japan became the largest aid donor in 1989, when non-ODA aid (Official Development Assistance) is added to aid contributions, the United States ranks as the

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number one aid donor in the world. See Japan’s ODA 1996. Ministry of Foreign Affairs. 9. See Appendix 7A. “Tables of military expenditure.” SIPRI Yearbook 1999: Armaments, Disarmament and International Security. Oxford: Oxford University Press. pp. 300–323. 10. J.A.A. Stockwin. 1999. Governing Japan. Malden, MA: Blackwell. p. 205. These increases were influenced by a perceived growth in the Soviet military threat. 11. Crowe and Romberg. 1991. p. 135. 12. Paul Dibb. 1995. “Towards a New Balance of Power in Asia.” Adelphi Paper 295. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 79. 13. Green. 1995a. p. 2. Some of the examples Green gives are the Mitsubishi Heavy Industries’ Type-90 tank, that is said to have the most sophisticated automation of any tank in the world; the Kawasaki Heavy Industries’ T-4 jet trainer, which has been cited by U.S. aviation experts as a model design, and; the Toshiba and Mitsubishi Electric’s portable surface to air missile (SAM), that some claim outperforms the United States’ Stinger SAM. 14. Karel van Wolferen. 1989. The Enigma of Japanese Power: People and Politics in a Stateless Nation. London: MacMillan. p. 1. 15. Ichiro Ozawa, whose role will be discussed later, was an important advocate for increasing Japanese financial support of the multinational force in the Gulf. It should also be pointed out that Japan’s total contribution to the Gulf War effort, $13.2 billion, was more than its total annual outlays in its foreign aid program and was made possible only through a tax increase. See Yoichi Funabashi. 1991–92. “Japan and the New World Order.” Foreign Affairs 70(5): 58–59, and; Japan’s ODA 1996. Ministry of Foreign Affairs. 16. Ivo H. Daalder. 1996. “Prospects for Global Leadership Sharing: The Security Dimension.” Maryland/Tsukuba Papers on U.S.-Japan Relations, Center for International and Security Studies at Maryland School of Public Affairs, University of Maryland at College Park. p. 30. 17. Richard J. Ellings and Edward A. Olsen. 1992–93. “A New Pacific Profile.” Foreign Policy 89: 116–136. 18. Jeffrey E. Garten. 1993. A Cold Peace. New York: Times Books. 19. Desmond Ball, ed. 1995. The Transformation of Security in the Asian/Pacific Region. London: Frank Cass. p. 4. 20. Harry Harding. 1995. “International Order and Organization in the Asia-Pacific Region.” In East Asia in Transition, ed. Robert S. Ross. New York: M.E. Sharpe. 21. Yahuda. 1996. p. 262. 22. Part of the deficit in spy satellite capacity was also involuntary. Various Japanese leaders have discussed developing an independent reconnaissance capability, but American officials have voiced opposition to such plans. Official grounds for U.S. opposition center on duplication of American capabilities. However, it is also clear that the United States wants to keep its superiority in reconnaissance assets. In September 1999, the United States dropped its opposition to Japan’s resolve to deploy its own intelligence-gathering satellites by 2002 and opted instead to sell the Japanese high-performance parts for the four proposed satellites. See “U.S.-Japanese Squabble over Japanese Spy Satellite,” Global Intelli-

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gence Update, ; and Takao Takahara. 1996. “Japan.” In Challenges for the New Peacekeepers, ed. Trevor Findlay. SIPRI Research Report No. 12. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 55. 23. Prestowitz as quoted in Bruce Cumings. 1997. “Japan and Northeast Asia into the Twenty-first Century.” In Network Power: Japan and Asia, eds. Peter J. Katzenstein and Takashi Shiraishi. p. 156. 24. Chalmers Johnson and E. B. Keehn. 1995. “The Pentagon’s Ossified Strategy.” Foreign Affairs 74(4): 106. 25. Japanese financial contributions to U.S. forces is more than the amount provided by all other U.S. allies combined. See “U.S.-Japan Relations,” Testimony by Winston Lord, assistant secretary of state for East Asian and Pacific affairs, before the House International Relations Committee, Subcommittee on Asia, 25 October 1995, Washington, D.C., U.S. Department of State, . 26. Kenchiro Sasal. 1994. “Rethinking Japan-U.S. Relations.” Adelphi 292. 27. Reinhard Drifte. 1996. Japan’s Foreign Policy in the 1990s. New York: St. Martin’s. p. 75. 28. “Asia’s flagging alliance,” The Economist, 13 April 1996. 29. Hisashi Owada. 1991. “The Japanese Role in the Regional Security of East Asia.” In Global Security, North Asian, European and Japanese Interdependence in the 1990s, ed. Eric Grove. London: Brassey’s. p. 17. 30. As quoted in Green. 1995a. p. 24. 31. David Arase. 1995. Buying Power: The Political Economy of Japan’s Foreign Aid. Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner. 32. Selig S. Harrison and Clyde V. Prestowitz, Jr. 1990. “Pacific Agenda: Defense or Economics?” Foreign Policy 79: 58. 33. Shintaro Ishihara and Akio Morita. The Japan that Can Say “No,” The New U.S.-Japan Relations Card. Unauthorized translation in English. The unauthorized translation of the original title, “No” to ieru Nihon, was translated in the United States by the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency. In the authorized English version Akio Morita, chairman of Sony, refused to allow his portions of the original Japanese edition to be published. In 1994 Ishihara also coauthored a book with Malaysian Prime Minister Mahathir Mohamad entitled The Asia That Can No. See the 1996 English translation, The Voice of Asia: Two Leaders Discuss the Coming Century. 34. See, for example, George Friedman and Meredith LeBard. 1991. The Coming War with Japan. New York: St. Martin’s. 35. Interview with Vogel, “Uncertain future,” Far Eastern Economic Review, 23 November 1995. 36. Tadashi Aruga. 1996. “Japan-U.S. Relations: In Search of a New Paradigm.” Japan Review of International Affairs (winter). p. 36. 37. Cited in Drifte. 1996. pp. 67–68. Aaron L. Friedberg made a similar argument in his 1993–94 article in International Security (18) “Ripe for Rivalry: Prospects for Peace in a Multipolar Asia.” Friedberg writes that, “American power is the linchpin that holds Japan in place.” 38. Simon Duke. 1995. “Northeast Asian Security.” The Journal of East Asian Affairs 9(2): 347.

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39. Kurt W. Tong. 1996–97. “Revolutionizing America’s Japan Policy.” Foreign Policy 105: 108. 40. Ibid. 41. Mike M. Mochizuki. 1995. “Japan as an Asia-Pacific Power.” In East Asia in Transition, ed. Robert S. Ross. New York: M.E. Sharpe. pp. 125–126. 42. In the debates following the incident in which three American servicemen were arrested for raping a Japanese schoolgirl, Japanese politicians neglected to address the actual strategic purpose of America’s presence on Okinawa. “Instead, they handled the crisis as if they were mediating between two sets of parochial interests—Americans who want bases versus Okinawans who want their land back—with scant mention made of Japan’s own strategic stake.” See Kurt W. Tong. 1996–97. p. 109. 43. Yahuda. 1996. pp. 262–263. See also Susan Willett. 1997. “East Asia’s Changing Defence Industry.” Survival 39(3): 107–134. 44. Robert A. Manning and Paula Stern. 1994. “The Myth of the Pacific Community.” Foreign Affairs 73(6): 90. 45. For an analysis of the tensions between China and Japan, see Ralf Horlemann. 1995. “Wandel in der Politik Japans und in dessen Verhältnis zu China.” Aussenpolitik 4: 384–393. 46. See, for example, “Seoul and Tokyo Move to Ease Rift,” International Herald Tribune, 21 February 1996, for an analysis of tensions between Japan and South Korea over land claimed by both. 47. Kishore Mahbubani. 1992. “Japan Adrift.” Foreign Policy 88: 131. 48. On Russia’s side, opposition to any return of the four southern Kurile islands comes not only from nationalists, former communists and the Sakhalin Regional Duma (which controls the islands) but also from the general public. Russia is also sensitive about setting a precedent of ceding territory since China and other CIS republics also have land claims against it. See Francis Fukuyama and Kongdan Oh. 1993. The U.S.-Japan Security Relationship After the Cold War. Santa Monica: Rand. p. 10. 49. Daniel Yergin and Thane Gustafson. 1995. Russia 2010–and What It Means for the World. New York: Vintage. p. 260. 50. The most successful of the various regional organizations is ASEAN. The organization has promoted harmonization of regional interests for twenty-five years between its six member states as well as facilitated political and security dialogue in its post-ministerial meetings that include representatives from Australia, New Zealand, Canada, the United States, China, Japan and Korea. ASEAN Members are Thailand, Malaysia, Indonesia, Singapore, the Philippines, Brunei, and Vietnam. Laos and Myanmar (Burma) were admitted in July 1997. 51. Michael Blaker. 1995. “Japan in 1994: Out with the Old, In with the New?” Asian Survey 35(1): 9. 52. Kazuo Ogura. 1996. “Japan’s Asia Policy, Past and Future.” Japan Review of International Affairs (winter). pp. 8–9. 53. Manning and Stern. 1994. p. 80. 54. Ibid. pp. 80, 83. 55. Duke. 1995. p. 327, and; Paul Dibb. 1995. “Towards a New Balance of Power in Asia.” Adelphi Paper 295. Oxford: Oxford University Press. pp. 10–11.

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56. Paul Dibb. 1997–98. “The Revolution in Military Affairs and Asian Security.” Survival 39(4):93–116. 57. Statistics from Nihon Keizai Shimbun as found in Jeffrey E. Garten. 1993. pp. 164–165. 58. Yoichi Funabashi. 1992. “Japan and America: Global Partners.” Foreign Policy 86: 37. 59. Ezra F. Vogel. 1992. “Japanese-American Relations After the Cold War.” Daedalus 121(4): 41. It should be noted that in fact the United States was a minor arms supplier to Iraq. 60. Takashi Inoguchi. 1990. “Japan’s response to the Gulf crisis: An analytical overview.” The Journal of Japanese Studies 17(2): 257–274, as cited in Drifte. 1996. p. 26. 61. Vogel. 1992. pp. 41–42. 62. Ian Buruma. 1995. The Wages of Guilt. New York: Meridian. p. 98. 63. Haberman cited in Edward Behr. 1990. Hirohito, Behind the Myth. New York: Vintage. p. 396. 64. Drifte. 1996. pp. 75, 25–29. 65. David Arase. 1996. “A Militarized Japan?” In The Transformation of Security in the Asia/Pacific Region, ed. Desmond Ball. London: Frank Cass. pp. 97–98. For more on Ichiro Ozawa’s neoconservative view see the section on individuals. 66. Ibid. p. 86. 67. Masayuki Tadokoro. 1994. “The End of Japan’s ‘Non-Decision’ Politics.” Asian Survey 34(11): 1002–1015. 68. Hideo Otake. 1990. “Defense Controversies and One-Party Dominance.” In Uncommon Democracies, ed. T. J. Pempel. London: Cornell University Press. Debate in the foreign and security realm was held down further by LDP blackmailing or bribing of politicians who might oppose it. As Shin Kanemaru argued, “the most effective way to get legislation through the Diet was to buy off the opposition.” Obituary, Shin Kanemaru. The Economist 6 April 1996. 69. Stephen J. Artner. 1985. A Change of Course, The West German Social Democrats and NATO, 1957–1961. London: Greenwood Press. p. 58. 70. Watanabe based the allowance of such an action on Prime Minister Nakasone’s arguments on an earlier attempt (in 1987) to send Japanese minesweepers to the Persian Gulf. 71. Edward W. Desmond. 1995. “Ichiro Ozawa: Reformer at Bay.” Foreign Affairs 74(5): 121–128. 72. Michael J. Green. 1995. “Craving Normalcy: The Japanese State after the Cold War.” In Disintegration or Transformation? The Crisis of the State in Advanced Industrial Societies, ed. Patrick McCarthy and Erik Jones. New York: St. Martin’s. p. 47. 73. Anne Sa’adah delves into the complexities that confront states that overthrow dictatorships and then attempt to set up a democracy. She specifically considers Germany’s (first West and then East) experience with confronting the best strategy for establishing a new democratic regime, which might include pragmatism over moral accountability. See Anne Sa’adah. 1998. Germany’s Second Chance: Trust, Justice, and Democratization. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. 74. Green. 1995a. p. 34.

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75. Other Japanese scholars have pointed to Japanese culture and society to show how bureaucracy and government in Japan work in ways different from more traditional democracies. See, for example, Jon S. Jun and Hiromi Muto’s look at the impact of culture on the Japanese administration. Jun and Muto. 1995. “The Hidden Dimensions of Japanese Administration: Culture and Its Impact.” Public Administration Review 55(2). 76. Peter J. Katzenstein points out that van Wolferen’s analysis of Japan has “an uncanny resemblance to Ralf Dahrendorf’s Germany in the mid-1960s.” Katzenstein. 1996. Cultural Norms and National Security. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. pp. 13–14. Bruce Cumings takes van Wolferen to task for reviving prewar Japanese stereotypes. See Cumings. 1997. p. 166. 77. Chalmers Johnson. 1995. Japan: Who Governs? New York: W.W Norton. 78. Fukuyama and Oh. 1993. p. 24. 79. For an analysis of the affect and how pervasive the phenomenon of “old boy” networks are in Japanese politics see Ulrike Schaede. 1995. “The ‘Old Boy’ Network and Government-Business Relationships in Japan.” Journal of Japanese Studies 21(2): 293–317. 80. Drifte. 1996. p. 16. 81. Peter W. Preston. 1995a. “Domestic Inhibitions to a Leadership Role for Japan in Pacific Asia.” Contemporary Southeast Asia 16(4): 357. 82. Japanese political observers refer to the policy-making structure in place for most of the postwar era as the “1955 system” because it was in 1955 that the “iron triangle” was resolutely solidified when more than a dozen conservative Japanese parties formed the Liberal Democratic Party. 83. Stockwin. 1999. p. 191. 84. Despite the brevity of the campaign, the spoils and vote-buying spree for the lower house of the Diet is estimated to cost up to five times as much as a congressional election in the United States, excluding the costs for TV ads. See Mary Jordan, “Japanese Look to New Spirit in Politics,” International Herald Tribune, 1996. 85. Peter W. Preston. 1995. “The Socio-Economic Problems of Contemporary Japan and the Limits of Political Reform.” Political Quarterly 66: 195. 86. Yahuda. 1996. pp. 233–234. 87. Baker and Frost. 1992. p. 109. 88. Aurelia George. 1993. “Japan’s Participation in U.N. Peacekeeping Operations.” Asian Survey 33(6): 563. 89. Funabashi. 1991–92. p. 62. 90. This use of outside pressure to drive the policy-making process partly emerges from a central characteristic of Japanese policy making: traditionally it emphasizes accommodation and consensus (hanashiai and ayumiyori). Writing in the late 1970s, Akio Watanabe described this traditional notion of consensus: “What is most required of political leaders in their society is not the power to decide but the power to compromise, or rather, to make people compromise. Indeed, the notion of ‘decision making’ is quite foreign to them. . . . The notion of policy which is most natural to the Japanese is, therefore, something which simply flows or evolves rather than something that is made.” Watanabe. 1978. pp. 75, 87. 91. “Hostage and fortune,” The Economist, 25 January 1997.

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92. Bruce Stokes. 1996. “Divergent paths: U.S.-Japan relations towards the twenty-first century.” International Affairs 72(2): 289. 93. Drifte. 1996. p. 57. 94. Masaru Tamamoto. 1995. “Village Politics—Japan’s Prince of Disorder.” World Policy Journal 12(1): 56. See also Preston. 1995. p. 196. 95. Tamamoto. 1995. p. 56. 96. After the fall of the LDP from power (for the first time in the postwar era), in June 1993, three new parties formed out of former LDP members along with politicians from other parties. Ichiro Ozawa and Tsutomu Hata, both neoconservatives who advocate an expansion of Japan’s military roles, formed the Japan Renewal Party (sometimes translated as the New Life Party), while the more neoliberal Morihiro Hosokawa formed the New Japan Party and Masayoshi Takemura created the Harbinger Party. 97. Stockwin. 1999. p. 84. 98. “Failing to bite the bullet train,” The Economist, 25 January 1997. 99. Drifte. 1996. p. 23. 100. Ibid. p. 21 101. Green. 1995a. p. 26. 102. Ibid. p. 27. 103. Katzenstein. 1996. p. 107. 104. Under Nakasone the JDA published its first white paper, conducted public relations that did much to improve the integrity of the agency and established “The Group to Diagnose the Defense of Japan, the JDA, and the JSDF.” 105. Green. 1995. 106. Drifte. 1996. p. 22. 107. The scandal involved stock of the Recruit Cosmos company which major figures in political parties, the bureaucracy and other elites were allowed to buy before the stock was listed. When it was listed, its value increased several fold and those who had bought it made enormous profits. 108. Toshiki Kaifu. 1990. “Japan’s Vision.” Foreign Policy 80: 33. 109. J.A.A. Stockwin argues that the most important factor in Kaifu’s inability to obtain enough support for the United Nations Peace Cooperation Corps bill was because the LDP had lost its majority in the Diet’s upper chamber in the 1989 elections. See Stockwin. 1999. pp. 72–76. 110. Charles Smith, “Stretching things,” Far Eastern Economic Review, 1 November 1990. 111. Desmond. 1995. p. 125. 112. Ibid. p. 121. 113. Ibid. p. 122. Kakuei Tanaka (prime minister from 1972 to 1974) is widely known to have built up a strong position for himself, that lasted beyond his term as prime minister, through the pervasive use of funds to corrupt Diet MPs and members of the bureaucracy on a scale unknown until then. Shin Kanemaru, known as the LDP “kingmaker,” was forced to resign from the Diet in 1992 for receiving illegal political contributions. Kanemaru was later also arrested on charges of tax evasion on over ¥3.3 billion in undeclared income. During the investigation for these tax charges, huge sums of cash, gold, stocks, and bonds were seized; much of this booty was given to Kanemaru by national construction companies in return for public works projects. See Drifte 1996. p. 28.

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114. Desmond. 1995. p. 124. 115. Much of Takemura’s ideas can be found in his book, Chisakutomo Kirari to Hikaru Kuni Nihon, or Japan, A Small But Sparkling Country, published in 1994 by Kobunsha in Tokyo. 116. Shintaro Ishihara and Akio Morita. The Japan that Can Say “No,” The New U.S.-Japan Relations Card. Unauthorized translation in English. 117. Fukuyama and Oh. 1993. p. 31.

Chapter Five

Commensurate or Not in Cambodia?

The criticism persists that Japan has yet to play the political role in the world that is both its right and its duty, and that this continued unwillingness or inability betrays a narrow self-centeredness. Robert W. Tucker1

Japan first became involved in Cambodia with the convening of its Tokyo Conference on Cambodia in June 1990. However, this attempt to bring the four warring Cambodian factions together for talks was a dismal failure. To begin with, the Khmer Rouge did not attend and, secondly, Japan’s initiative did not meet with the full approval of China, the United States or the ASEAN states.2 This first setback prompted Tokyo to lean more toward working with the United Nations with regard to Cambodia. It was around this time (October 1990) that the Kaifu government introduced its United Nations Peace Cooperation Corps bill to the Diet, which would have allowed the creation of a volunteer corps of Japanese peacekeepers (originating from the Self Defense Forces but also separate) to take part in international peacekeeping operations in the Gulf War. However, this bill was allowed to die without a vote. As a result, only after the fighting stopped and most of the mines cleared did Japan send minesweepers and support ships to help in the Gulf multinational effort. Japan did eventually give a substantial financial contribution but the intense diplomatic inducements needed to obtain the funds added more weight to the slur that Japan was a free rider.

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In September of the following year, the LDP’s “Special Research Committee on Japan’s Role in the Global Community” introduced a bill to the parliament that would allow Japan to contribute soldiers to future multinational, UN-mandated peacekeeping missions. Unlike the previous measure, which had called for volunteers, the 1991 United Nations Peace Cooperation Corps bill stipulated that up to 2,000 SDF troops could be sent to participate in humanitarian, noncombatant, support and rescue activities in secure areas, as part of a UN-sponsored peacekeeping force. This clear link between the SDF and a Japanese peacekeeping force removed some of the confusion and some of the criticism that surrounded the 1990 attempt at creating such a corps. Nevertheless, the PKO bill was initially blocked by constitutionally minded forces in the LDP, which were able to influence the rulings of the “Research Commission on the Constitution” against broadening the interpretation of Article 9. The main question concerning the constitution was whether the SDF’s use of arms against an organized attack during a peacekeeping mission would constitute a legitimate act of self-defense or was in fact unconstitutional under Article 9. To appease this component within the LDP the government accepted several binding restrictions on the SDF’s participation in future peacekeeping missions: (i) that a ceasefire must exist between warring parties; (ii) that parties to the conflict must consent to allow deployment and participation of the SDF in the multinational force; (iii) that impartiality of the UN peacekeeping force deployed must be maintained; (iv) that Japan maintains the right to withdraw its contingent at any time if such conditions are not met, and; (v) that the use of weapons will be for the protection of SDF personnel only. In addition to these restrictions, the government added other clarifications in order to secure the PKO’s passing. First, the government promised to “freeze” all SDF participation in more military-minded peacekeeping tasks, such as demobilizing armed forces, monitoring buffer zones, collecting weapons or monitoring ceasefires.3 Second, the government stipulated that SDF forces would not be placed under the operational command of the UN in peacekeeping missions but would instead retain an independent command to better insure against the possibility that the SDF might be forced into military action. When it eventually reached the Diet the debate over the PKO bill was stormy and bitter. Indeed, the PKO bill reignited the much older debate on whether the SDF was constitutionally legal at all. The Social Democratic Party (SDP) and the Japan Communist Party delayed action on the PKO bill by first filing a series of censure motions in an attempt to block a vote on the bill and then filibustering the deliberations with the “ox-walking” tactic—a filibuster technique in which each MP prolongs the short walk to the podium to cast a vote. In fact, the Social Democrats ox-walked an average eleven to thirteen hours on votes pertaining to the PKO bill.4 The Social Democrats also boycotted talks and even collectively resigned from the

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parliament, which allowed Prime Minister Kiichi Miyazawa to use a technicality in Japanese parliamentary law to pass the PKO bill in June 1992. Some months after its passing, in September 1992, the PKO bill’s first test came when Japan sent 600 SDF troops, eight ceasefire observers and seventy-five civilian police officers to Cambodia to participate in the United Nations Transitional Authority in Cambodia (UNTAC).5 UNTAC began its mission in early 1992 but immediately ran into difficulties with the Khmer Rouge, which refused to cooperate. The Khmer Rouge’s fierce and obstructive nature also produced problems for the LDP leadership. During the debates over the PKO bill’s passing the LDP had evaded the constitutional question concerning whether Japanese soldiers could defend themselves in peacekeeping missions “by contending that the SDF would only be sent to situations where violent incidents were unlikely.”6 More to the issue at hand, in order to clinch the approval of the PKO bill and to take part in UNTAC, the LDP had played down the dangers of the Cambodian operation.7 The Khmer Rouge’s behavior called into question these political maneuvers. In order to make the SDF contingent a success, it was intentionally assigned to one of the safest parts of Cambodia in a nonmilitary division of UNTAC (an engineering group). The volunteers and civilian police force were allowed to operate in more dangerous areas. As a result, in April 1993, a Japanese UN volunteer was killed and in the following month Khmer Rouge guerrillas killed a Japanese police officer and wounded four others. Although the policemen were stationed in the more dangerous northwestern part of Cambodia as part of an international force of 3,600 police from thirty-two countries deployed to train Cambodian police, it soon became clear that what the Japanese police were told about their mission and the realities on the ground were different.8 Takao Takahara writes that the police “had been told that their mission was to supervise and control the local police force and were unprepared to actually police a region where local police did not exist.” When the truth became known, “To many in Japan it seemed as if the government was deliberately deceiving the public in order to evade straightforward debate on the constitutional question.”9 The Japanese government’s response to the deaths was to threaten to suspend operations altogether if the situation on the ground deteriorated further.10 Tokyo also asked UNTAC to relocate the Japanese police to safer areas. This request was denied.11 International reaction to Japan’s involvement in Cambodia was no more positive than response had been to Japan’s actions in the Gulf War. Indeed, the stringent restrictions placed on Japan’s contribution to UNTAC was criticized “as being remote from the realities in the field.”12 What Robert Tucker asserted in 1990 was true in 1992: criticism persisted that Japan had yet to play the political-military role in the world that was its duty. Tokyo supported this view by reducing the number of Japanese

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personnel in Cambodia after the UN volunteer and the civilian police officer were killed. Moreover, the Japanese contingent was the first to be withdrawn from the UN’s mission.

FOREIGN POLICY DECISIONS, BEHAVIOR AND EFFECTS Although Japan’s involvement in Cambodia was subject to numerous restrictions and Japan was ultimately criticized for its persistent shortcomings in understanding the realities of UN peacekeeping missions, the mere fact that Japan passed the PKO bill and participated in UNTAC at all was unprecedented. As the schematic representation of the case study (in Figure 5.1) reveals, significant changes occurred within the domestic environment that in turn created important opportunities for Tokyo that allowed it to take its first steps toward increasing its participation in the management of security outside Japan’s territory. Similar to shifts in the Federal Republic of Germany concerning its willingness to participate in the UN missions to Bosnia, the most important change in the domestic environment occurred in the Japanese public’s attitude toward sending Japanese personnel to participate in UN-sponsored missions. As Christopher Johnstone observes, “In the years since the Gulf War, public opinion in Japan appears to demonstrate an increasingly sophisticated grasp of security issues.”13 Several different factors account for this shift in the public’s assessment of regional security issues and, specifically, Japanese involvement in Cambodia. First, the Japanese military’s minor involvement in the Gulf War affected public opinion. Although only 30 percent of the Japanese approved of the dispatch of minesweepers to the Gulf War, the Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Forces’ performance was widely applauded, resulting in an 80 percent approval of their mission when they returned.14 The Japanese also began changing their attitudes toward the use of their military for regional security. Masayuki Tadokoro contends, “Japan’s sheer inability to act decisively when all the major powers joined in an obviously legitimate cause impressed upon the public the proposition that postwar Japanese pacifism was not an honorable philosophy but merely a selfish excuse for inaction.”15 Tadokoro further argues that opinion polls after the Gulf War showed a change in public attitude toward revising the constitution to allow the SDF to participate in UN peacekeeping operations. Indeed, opinion polls, he asserts, also revealed that the Japanese wanted a larger international profile for their country. Government surveys taken after the SDF returned from Cambodia also indicated strong support for the SDF’s participation in the UN peacekeeping operations there. Although, the government did come under fire for having played down the dangers in Cambodia, the fact that the SDF’s mission was successful and without major incident positively affected people’s attitudes. The immense and

Figure 5.1 Japan’s foreign and security policy-making process in the Cambodian case.

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largely favorable press coverage the SDF contingent received translated into a hero’s welcome on their return to Japan in September 1993.16 The interest in Ichiro Ozawa’s book Blueprint for a New Japan also pointed to the public’s desire for some change in the military realm or at least a growing interest in the possibilities for change. As Edward Desmond writes, “[Ozawa’s] book sold a remarkable 700,000 copies, and readers were enthralled with his candor about how politics in Japan actually works.”17 Still, one should not discount the skepticism the public holds in regard to Ozawa and his plans to push Japan onto the world stage.18 The second factor that brought about change in the domestic environment and the Japanese public’s attitude toward a greater role for Japan was the new PKO bill itself, which incorporated various safeguards ensuring civilian control over the SDF that the previous UN Peace Cooperation Corps bill had not. These additional safeguards (or restrictions, depending on one’s point of view) eased some of the fears that the Japanese public held concerning the command of Self-Defense Forces used in UN operations. Other safeguards were designed to alleviate Japanese fears about the safety of Japanese soldiers in such missions. In August 1992, the Diet established the safeguards more formally in the “Five Principles” governing Japanese peacekeeping contributions. An additional safeguard, made at the Social Democrats’ insistence, required Diet authorization for each dispatch of personnel that might involve military activities. A third factor that contributed to the change in public attitudes was the television coverage of the Social Democratic Party and the Communist Party’s ox-walking tactics to block votes on the PKO bill. This media reporting resulted in a sharp rise in public support of the Miyazawa cabinet and hence support for its PKO bill. The Social Democrats’ maneuvers in the end backfired and resulted in poor returns for them in the next election. A fourth factor in changing public views was the appointment of a Japanese national, Yasushi Akashi, as head of UNTAC in January 1992. Japan’s UN ambassador Yoshio Hatano had advised UN Secretary-General Boutros Boutros Ghali that Akashi was Tokyo’s preferred candidate for the post of UN special representative in charge of operations in Cambodia. Hatano also reminded Boutros Ghali that Japan was prepared to pick up much of the bill for the UN Transitional Authority in Cambodia as a further means of swaying the Secretary-General in his choice.19 The Japanese public did indeed favor Akashi’s appointment and was more willing to agree to sending soldiers to Cambodia when a fellow Japanese requested them. Fifth, the public perceived that the Japanese government’s actions in the Gulf War were disastrous for Japan’s global image. For example, Kyoji Komachi records the Japanese public’s despair upon finding “the glaring absence of Japan in the list of countries to which the Kuwaiti Government expressed its appreciation via an advertisement in the New York Times at

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the end of the war.”20 Many were disheartened that Tokyo’s policies had not only failed to elicit Kuwaiti gratitude but had produced American mistrust of Japan as an ally. This was all the more exasperating as the ultimate financial contribution required significant sacrifice on the part of the public. The Japanese people blamed their politicians for bungling the financial diplomacy.21 The sixth, and related reason, is that the public wanted to placate the United States which had criticized Japan for its wholly financial contribution in the Gulf War. An important shift in the public’s voice in international matters accounts for the relevance of these last two factors. As reviewed in the previous chapter, the role that Japanese society played in the making of foreign policy during the Cold War was minimal in comparison to the role that members of the “iron triangle” played. After the Gulf War, however, this situation changed in a relatively short period of time; the discussion of Japan’s international role became a topic no longer restricted to a small circle of diplomats, bureaucrats and LDP faction leaders. Indeed, the average Japanese citizen became very critical of the Tokyo government and the opposition Social Democrats. This view was partly the result of U.S.-Japanese tensions over the Gulf War, which highlighted the government’s weakness of leadership. As Howard Baker and Ellen Frost observe, “Whatever they felt about the Gulf War to begin with, [the Japanese] were critical of the way their government handled it.”22 While many Japanese felt that their government lacked vision, almost all recognized that decisive commitments took so long to emerge that their diplomatic value was lost.23 Scandals within the ruling LPD contributed to the public’s repudiation of the government, leading to a great upheaval in Japanese politics, which, in turn, led in 1993 to the LDP’s first election loss in thirty-eight years. In addition to growing unhappiness with the ruling LDP government’s handling of the Gulf War, the Japanese public also became increasingly critical of how the bureaucracy had managed it. The Foreign Ministry, in particular, came under harsh criticism for the way it had coped with the Gulf War. Many Japanese wanted a more proactive foreign policy than had been practiced in the Gulf.24 Furthermore, the public began to realize that the structure of Japanese policy making proved to be a hindrance when Japan needed to act quickly and decisively as demanded in situations like the Gulf War. Too often policy appeared to come in reaction to international condemnation or pressure; Japanese initiative was nowhere to be found. The excruciatingly slow response by Japanese officials to the Kobe earthquake, made worse by bureaucrats who insisted on proper formalities being met before aid to people could be released, caused further reproach of the bureaucracy.25 The way the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department bickered over procedures in its dealings with the Aum Shinrikyo cult and the slow pace in adopting laws prohibiting the possession of poison gas also contributed to public disgust for bureaucratic elites.

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Other incidents such as the bureaucrats’ plan to yet again dip into taxpayers’ pockets to pay off the reckless spending of the housing loan companies and such money-grubbing blunders as withholding information about HIV-tainted blood, triggered what some view as a citizens’ revolt.26 The housing loan debacle was doubly galling as it was revealed that Japanese housing loan companies, which are controlled by big banks, agricultural unions and even to some extent gangsters, often provided comfortable retirement jobs to bureaucrats. Likewise the HIV-tainted blood scandal was particularly vexatious because it revealed bureaucratic greed. Japanese bureaucrats did not alert the public about the blood because doing so would have hurt the pharmaceutical industry and would have required spending money to import heat-treated untainted blood. Silence ultimately caused the deaths of hundreds of hemophiliacs and the infection of 1,800. The Economist writes that the main reason health bureaucrats did not regulate drug firms is that on retirement, health ministry officials received “plum” jobs with the very drug firms that they were supposed to be regulating.27 Such blunders and obvious self-interest on the part of bureaucrats prompted ordinary Japanese citizens to rethink the reasons why they had sacrificed a higher standard of living and put their trust in an elite-based bureaucracy that not only did not function as a coherent decision-making structure but that had also tarnished Japan’s international image. As only one indication of the higher standard of living they forfeited, the Institute for International Economics estimates that formal and informal Japanese trade barriers cost Japanese consumers between $75 and $110 billion in 1989 alone.28 Bureaucracy bashing rose to new heights with protests over the use of taxpayer money by bureaucrats to entertain each other, to take padded business trips and to hire bogus staff.29 As a result, Japanese citizens formed groups to file lawsuits throughout Japan demanding that bureaucrats return squandered funds. An important factor in the shift of Japanese views toward their government and bureaucracy after the Gulf War was the end of the 1955 party system. The system had already begun to falter as early as the 1980s, when income disparities between Japanese landowners and non-landholders became shockingly wide. When this disparity was combined with increased political scandal (i.e., the Recruit “shares-for-favors” scandal) and Japan’s deepest recession since the oil shocks of the 1970s, the LDP party fell. It had lost the key to its Cold War power: its credibility as an efficient manager of the economy. The public’s disillusionment and even anger with politicians made it possible for the first time since the end of the Second World War for new parties to emerge and for reforms to be instigated. In June 1993, Prime Minister Miyazawa tried to obtain sufficient party support to put through electoral reform legislation, setting up single-member districts. He did not have the support, however, as many members still feared for their own seats. This in turn, embarrassed

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Miyazawa and in the following “routine” no-confidence vote against him, for the first time since its formation, the Liberal Democratic Party fractured and eventually split. After the one-party system fell apart, Japanese politics entered a particularly chaotic time, with various splinter groups all vying for power. During the next three years four different prime ministers would be elected, some holding the office for a very short time. The first of these leaders was the neoliberal Morihiro Hosokawa, who acquired the seat after Ichiro Ozawa and Tsutomu Hata (neoconservatives of the Japan Renewal Party) formed a coalition government with Hosokawa’s Japan New Party (JNP) . Eight parties eventually made up Hosokawa’s coalition government, including Masayoshi Takemura’s New Pioneer Party and the Social Democrats. Hosokawa was a popular leader, enjoying the highest popularity (71 percent) for a prime minister in the history of such opinion polls in Japan. His bold contrast to previously entrenched LDP leaders (he had only been elected to the House of Representatives in the Diet a month before becoming prime minister),30 his desire to see electoral reform passed and his push of anticorruption legislation accounted for much of this popularity. In the security realm, Hosokawa (much influenced by Ozawa) set up an ad hoc committee, the Advisory Group on Defense, with the express aim to assess the SDF and the possibility of its use in UN peacekeeping missions. The Advisory Group delivered its report to the Japanese government on 12 August 1994, asserting that Japan faced a more difficult security environment than at any time in the past. The group recommended that Japan extricate itself “from its security policy of the past that was, if anything, passive, and henceforth play an active role in shaping a new order.” As Hosokawa abruptly resigned in April 1994 and was as a result already replaced by the left-leaning Socialist Tomiichi Murayama (with Tsutomu Hata occupying it between), by the time the Advisory Group made its recommendations, the report fell on deaf ears. Murayama not only quietly shelved it, but additionally moved to pare down the military’s budget and extricate the SDF from possible further participation in UN peacekeeping missions.31 Tsutomu Hata, an affable former LDP faction leader who was at the time leader of the Japan Renewal Party, replaced Hosokawa on 26 April 1994. During his short bout in office (sixty-four days), serious discussion on recognizing a right of collective self-defense did take place. Hata’s cabinet argued that Article 51 of the UN Charter, Article 5 of the San Francisco Peace Treaty and the preamble to the Japan-U.S. Security Treaty all implicitly gave Japan the right to enter collective defense arrangements. However, this renewed debate on defense and military issues was plagued by intra-coalition tensions, which had grown since Hosokawa’s resignation. The neoconservative/neoliberal coalition ultimately succumbed to the Liberal Democrat’s determination to win back power, which they suc-

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ceeded in bringing about by making a deal with their inveterate enemies, the Social Democratic Party. As a result, Hata came away with the ignominious distinction of being the shortest-ruling prime minister in Japan’s history while the mild-mannered Social Democrat (already seventy years of age) Tomiichi Murayama was faithlessly put in his post. Murayama would last until January 1996, actually much longer than most predicted. He lost the post largely because of destabilizing forces within his own party. The Socialists’ abandonment of key party ideological precepts (including the opposition to Japanese rearmament, opposition to the Japan-U.S. Mutual Security Treaty and the acceptance of the constitutionality of the SDF) in order to be a part of the ruling coalition with the LDP, weakened the party and ultimately devastated it in the following elections. Murayama’s specific attempts to resolve regional historical grievances, by passing a formal apology for Japan’s wartime actions, resulted in nearly bringing down his government. In addition, his cabinet—a combination of opposite political ideologies—was deadlocked on the issue of whether the SDF was allowed to join UN peacekeeping missions. Whereas, with an LDP prime minister this dispute could at least make it to the floor of the Diet, it could not get past the cabinet under Murayama’s coalition government. Despite these obstacles, Murayama did exercise the “humanitarian international relief operations” clause of the PKO bill for the first time by his dispatch of a SDF contingent to Zaire to take part in the UN Rwandan refugee relief operation. Sadako Ogata, the UN High Commissioner for Refugees, asked Murayama to take part in the relief operation.32 In the eleventh hour of Hosokawa’s tenure as prime minister, he did negotiate a modified political reform bill in March 1994. However, it is too early to tell whether electoral reform has changed politics as usual in Japan. Many had hoped the elections of 20 October 1997, between the LDP party coalition and the New Frontier Party, would be the first real two-party elections in Japan. But results dashed these hopes: the LDP again emerged with a comfortable majority in the lower house. The new prime minister, Ryutaro Hashimoto, proved not to be the strong reform-minded executive that was needed to untangle and diminish the iron triangle. His first task was to carve out the spoils of victory along traditional party faction lines. Eventually, Hashimoto was forced to resign after the Liberal Democratic Party lost many seats in the July 1998 upper house elections. Keizo Obuchi (who, at the time, was the foreign minister and head of the largest faction within the LDP) then became the new prime minister without much fanfare or support from the Japanese public. Indeed, Obuchi was described as “cold pizza” and “pleasant but ineffectual” just before his election.33 His occupation of the office was safe and bland, if one does not count such eccentricities as Shingo Nishimura’s declaration (during his quick two-week appointment as Japanese deputy minister of

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defense) that Japan needed its own nuclear weapons to prevent it from being raped. Like the public, the Japanese media also became critical of the government and bureaucracy after the Gulf War. The media also helped to shape public views. It has even been argued that the Japanese media can play the role of the loyal opposition: publicizing political scandals and providing corrective measures that other states, like the FRG for example, rely on traditional judicial systems to carry out.34 For instance, the conservative and influential newspaper Yomiuri Shimbun began calling for a constitutional amendment to allow Japanese soldiers to take part in combat missions long before the Diet began to broach such issues.35 Various Japanese intellectuals also began more openly questioning Japanese foreign affairs. For example, Hisahiko Okazaki, a former diplomat who heads a neoconservative private think tank in Tokyo, wrote that the Japanese constitution does not need to be amended. “Since the existence of Japan’s Self-Defense Forces is based, not on the constitution, but on any country’s inherent right to self-defense,” Okazaki writes, “all Japan needs is a prime minister determined enough to make the case that the country’s security in the post-Cold War world rests not just on the narrow defense of its own territory, but also on its ability to operate collectively with America in Japan’s security interests.”36 Other Japanese neoconservative elites interpreted the broad calls for Japan to preserve peace and banish tyranny (for example, in the preamble of the Japanese constitution that speaks of preserving Japanese “security and existence, trusting in the justice and faith of the peaceloving peoples of the world”) as permitting Japan to participate fully in UN peacekeeping measures.

CONCLUSION The fact that the LDP pushed the PKO bill through the Diet soon after Japan was asked to contribute to the Cambodian mission can be viewed as a significant step toward a growing Japanese willingness to assume a regional security management role commensurate with its economic might. Aurelia George argues, “The decision to send troops abroad for PKO purposes is yet another step in the continual process whereby Japan has cautiously expanded the scope of SDF activity through successive additions to the list of what is permissible for Japanese forces under the current interpretation of Article Nine of the Constitution, which was not revised to allow SDF participation in UN PKO.”37 She bases this finding on the fact that although Japanese governments have predominantly interpreted the constitution’s ninth article to mean that it is unconstitutional to dispatch Japanese armed forces to foreign territory, there is no specific prohibition regarding the dispatch of troops for purposes other than the use of force. Deployment for other purposes such as peacekeeping is thus permissible

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under the constitution, George argues; indeed, at various times in the postwar era Japanese governments have by way of cabinet policy decisions and Diet statements and resolutions expanded the defined role of the SDF. Considerations of what the Japanese public would allow the SDF to do were the actual constraints put on the government. However, over time “by a process of piecemeal but steady consensual evolution, it has been possible for the Japanese government to extend the range of SDF functions and capabilities in the postwar period.”38 Andrew Hanami makes a similar argument but credits American pressure for most of the changes in Japanese willingness: “by providing a means and pressuring Japan to ratchet up incrementally to a level approaching intermittent parity and interoperability across a range of military capabilities, the Americans have caused Japan to become a key mover in the ‘balance’ of power in Northeast Asia.”39 While the gains in Japan’s willingness to increase its role in the management of security are considerable, many obstacles remain. For the most part, during the Cambodian mission Japan preferred to carefully skirt the issue of taking on more political-military responsibility. The pressure put on the Miyazawa government to bring the Japanese contingent home from Cambodia almost toppled it and resulted in an unsteady commitment to UNTAC. Tokyo’s constant stream of threats that it would pull the soldiers out for various reasons also put a general strain on the operations in Cambodia. While the PKO bill did enable the Japanese Self-Defense Forces to participate in UN peacekeeping operations, it restricted such operations to cases where there was a ceasefire in place and the neutrality of the UN forces was ensured (meaning the mandate could not be changed to peace enforcement). Although discussions of a reinterpretation of the constitution proved to be no longer taboo, the actual political will to assume a more robust security role had not yet developed. Additionally, shifts in public sentiment and changes in the stance of the Social Democrats should not lead Japan-watchers to underestimate the reticence of many to expand the SDF’s future roles nor the power of bureaucratic policy makers in Japan. After Cambodia, although a consensus emerged on the need to decide what Japan’s role should be in the arena of international security, no consensus emerged on what that role should be.40

NOTES 1. Robert W. Tucker. 1990. “1989 and All That.” Foreign Affairs 69(4):104. 2. Trevor Findlay. 1995. Cambodia, The Legacy and Lessons of UNTAC. SIPRI Research Report No. 9 Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 7. 3. In 1995 this “freeze” on SDF activities was reviewed. Takao Takahara. 1996. “Japan.” In Challenges for the New Peacekeepers, ed. Trevor Findlay. SIPRI Research Report No. 12. Oxford: Oxford University Press. pp. 57, 63.

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4. For details on the tactics used by the SDP and the JCP and the PKO bill’s eventual passing see Robert Delfs, “Offshore Samurai,” Far Eastern Economic Review, 18 June 1992. 5. UNTAC had grown out of the 1991 Paris Peace Agreements at which all four warring Cambodian factions signed a Paris settlement to set up a Supreme National Council. The council then asked the United Nations to ensure the implementation of the peace accords. The UN Security Council established UNTAC for this purpose. The factions are the Government of the State of Cambodia, United National Front for an Independent Neutral, Peaceful, and Cooperative Cambodia, Khmer People’s National Liberation Front and the Party of Democratic Kampuchea also known as the Khmer Rouge. 6. Takahara. 1996. p. 58. 7. Ibid. 8. Many of the rest of the Japanese police contingent promptly fled to Bangkok and Phnom Penh. Four were granted permission to leave for Japan for stress-related reasons. Peter J. Katzenstein. 1996. Cultural Norms and National Security. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. p. 95. 9. Takahara. 1996. p. 59. 10. Findlay. 1995. p. 80. 11. Takahara. 1996. p. 59. 12. Ibid. p. 58. 13. Christopher B. Johnstone. 1999. “Strained Alliance: U.S.-Japan Diplomacy in the Asian Financial Crisis.” Survival 41(2): 123. 14. James E. Auer. 1993. “Japan’s Changing Defense Policy.” In The New Pacific Security Environment: Challenges and Opportunities, ed. Ralph A. Cossa. Washington, D.C.: National Defense University Press. p. 87. 15. Masayuki Tadokoro. 1994. “The End of Japan’s ‘Non-Decision’ Politics.” Asian Survey 34(11): 1007. 16. Katzenstein. 1996. p. 127. 17. Edward W. Desmond. 1995. “Ichiro Ozawa: Reformer at Bay.” Foreign Affairs 74(5): 121. 18. For many Japanese his drive to make Japan a great power recalls to mind the authoritarian government of the 1930s, which abused power and drove the nation to war. Specifically, if the Japanese have doubts about the wisdom of developing a more independent and visible leadership role, they are even more doubtful that Ozawa is the one that should be ushering it in. 19. Ted Morello, “Japanese muscle,” Far Eastern Economic Review, 23 January 1992. Akashi was the head of the UN Department of Disarmament Affairs. 20. Kyoji Komachi. 1999. “Japan, Towards a More Proactive Foreign Ministry.” In Foreign Ministries: Change and Adaptation, ed. Brian Hocking. Basingstoke: MacMillan Press. p. 106. 21. Ezra Vogel. 1992. “Japanese-American Relations After the Cold War.” Daedalus 121(4): 42. 22. Howard H. Baker and Ellen L Frost. 1992. “Rescuing the U.S.-Japan Alliance.” Foreign Affairs 71(2): 109. 23. Ibid. 24. Komachi. 1999. pp. 110, 114.

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25. Charles Smith, “Searching for new paths,” Far Eastern Economic Review, 15 June 1995. 26. See Hideko Takayama and Michael Hirsh, “We’ve Had Enough,” Newsweek, 25 March 1996. 27. “Blood Ties,” The Economist, 6 April 1996. 28. Takeshi Kondo, “Shaking up the Bureaucracy,” Far Eastern Economic Review, 2 March 1995. 29. Kevin Sullivan and Mary Jordan, “Japanese Put Bite on Officials’ Free Lunch,” Guardian Weekly, 19 January 1997. 30. J.A.A. Stockwin. 1999. Governing Japan. Malden, MA: Blackwell. p. 81. 31. Quotes from the Advisory Group on Defense found in Paul Dibb. 1995. “Towards a New Balance of Power in Asia.” Adelphi Paper 295. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 31. 32. Takahara. 1996. p. 62. 33. “The shoguns in the shadows,” The Economist, 18 July 1998. 34. Katzenstein. 1996. p. 42. 35. However, the Yomiuri Shimbun also advocated scaling down the SDF, separating peacekeeping operations from the SDF and keeping Article 9 of the Peace Constitution intact. Reinhard Drifte. 1996. Japan’s Foreign Policy in the 1990s. New York: St. Martin’s. p. 54. 36. “Seas of troubles,” The Economist, 24 February 1996. 37. Aurelia George. 1993. “Japan’s Participation in U.N. Peacekeeping Operations.” Asian Survey 3(6):561. 38. Ibid. pp. 562–563. 39. Andrew K. Hanami. 1994. “Japan and the military balance of power in Northeast Asia.” Journal of East Asian Affairs, 8(2): 393, as cited in Reinhard Drifte. 1996. p. 4. 40. Tadokoro. 1994. p. 1008.

Chapter Six

Comparisons and Forecasts

A forecast, demonstrated in everyday life by weather prognostications made by meteorologists, is grounded in probability thinking. Even when formal probability reasoning is not engaged, a forecast is stated in terms of the conditions that make a particular class of occurrences more or less likely rather than the specification of the necessary and sufficient conditions. Thinking in terms of likelihoods (forecasts) establishes a different context than predictions. Charles F. Hermann1

The first task of this research is to explain German and Japanese behavior in the immediate post-Cold War era. The case studies allow a comparison of how and why their behavior changed (or did not) in the early 1990s. The second task is to make further comparisons between the German and Japanese policy-making circumstances. This leads to the third undertaking: to make some “forecasts” regarding German and Japanese future behavior. This distinction of making a forecast is important, as Charles Hermann observes, because “prediction is understood to specify the exact conditions that will always yield a specified outcome (if, and only if, A occurs, then B occurs). Few would claim that theory-based statements about future human social occurrences can take that form.”2 Before turning to any forecasts, however, a comparison of the causes of German and Japanese schizophrenic behavior needs to be made. The most important question is whether there were similar causes in both states’ policy-making environments that produced similar types of behavior. In

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the Gulf War, the FRG and Japan’s overall foreign policy-making environments shared many common attributes. On the international system level both were the strongest economic states in their regions and both possessed strong militaries. As a result, both had opportunities to increase their political-military roles. However, both also had to define their interests and actions within the light of U.S. military predominance. For the most part, they also shared the same environmental traits in the second level, international relations. The United States held high expectations for both Japan and Germany to increase their regional, and even world, political and military roles in the post-Cold War era. Such expectations were the result of several factors (some of them predating the end of the Cold War) discussed in detail in chapters 2 and 4. These factors included: America’s ability to project power both in Europe and in the Asia-Pacific was perceived to have declined; the United States was preoccupied with a growing budget deficit (in particular a huge trade deficit with Japan) as well as concerned about the long-term competitiveness of the American economy vis-à-vis Japan’s strong economy, and; the American stance that both the FRG and Japan’s “front line” state/overtly defensive military posture was of limited value in the post-Cold War era. These factors culminated in the United States communicating its desire that its two richest allies contribute to their respective security alliances in more valuable ways. Other neighboring countries gave mixed signals. Although states in their respective regions wanted both to share in the security burdens more equally, they did not necessarily want the Federal Republic and Japan to lead politically or militarily. In their international relations both the FRG and Japan also had specific constraints, which were surprisingly similar. For example, throughout the Cold War both looked to the United Sates for their security and, as a result, both found it extremely difficult in the post-Cold War world to develop a foreign policy beyond “checkbook diplomacy.” Additionally, both harbored vulnerabilities related to their histories and geopolitical positions. In Japan’s particular case such insecurities emerged from its lack of natural resources and dependence upon supplies transported on the open sea for thousand of miles.3 Also much the same as the German case, the Japanese self-perception of Japan’s capacity to act globally contrasted sharply with non-Japanese views. The latter were much more optimistic about Japan’s potential to act positively, including the use of SDF forces in the Gulf War. Similar to the constraints that Germany faced with the costs of unification, Japan’s economic power was under strain. After the economic “bubble” burst in the late 1980s and even collapsed in the early 1990s, Japan’s principal enabling factor to help manage a secure international environment, its strong economy, was punctured. Additionally, Japan’s labor force was rapidly aging and Japanese firms were increasingly getting marginal returns for their domestic industrial investment. This low productivity, plus an

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overregulated marketplace, led more and more Japanese companies to begin to shift their production overseas in the early 1990s. These factors translated into overall sluggish Japanese productivity at around the time the Gulf War started. But there were also significant differences in their international relations. One important difference can be traced to the fact that there are no institutions in the Asia-Pacific region, especially in the northeast, to parallel those established in Europe after the Second World War. NATO, the OSCE4 and the EU provide a structure for thinking about security issues in Europe. In addition, these institutions are flexible and willing to expand their missions and their membership to better address the threats of twenty-first century Europe. In the Asia-Pacific, however, countries prefer to rely on bilateral security configurations which, in turn, hinder future development of a wider security framework.5 Similarly, Asian countries, Japan included, generally avoid membership in organizations that go beyond their immediate security concerns.6 The United States has also resisted the development of multilateral security frameworks in Asia. “As the dominant power in Asia the United States,” Michael Yahuda observes, “ . . . had adamantly opposed all proposals for new multilateral arrangements lest these diminish its freedom of operation without compensatory benefits to multilateral security.”7 Part of the reason that multilateral structures have not yet developed in Asia lies in the great divergence of geography, culture, language, ethnicity and political and economic systems found in the region. Additionally, the region remained unstable during the Cold War years. “The lack of prolonged and observable periods of stability in recent history,” writes Simon Duke, “is one of the main obstacles to the construction of any regional multilateral security structures.”8 Paul Dibb concurs: “There have been more conflicts in Asia in the last 50 years than in any other part of the world, except the Middle East.”9 Dibb further argues that throughout history Asia has never had a pattern of region-wide international relations nor a single system of international order anchored in shared military, economic or cultural relations.10 Yahuda adds, “There is as yet no basis for the establishment of a regional order if by that what is meant is the existence of stable relationships based on accepted rules of conduct between states, of shared views about the legitimacy of government within states and of common assumptions about the inter-relationships among regional and external states.”11 Suspicion and mistrust are also still prevalent in the region, especially with regard to Japan which is particularly reluctant to address its role in the Second World War (see chapter 8). The lack of multilateral institutions in the Northeast Asia-Pacific region can be further contrasted with more successful attempts in Southeast Asia, where organizations such as the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO), the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation

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(SAARC), and, most recently, the ASEAN Regional Forum attest to an ability to cooperate. ARF, which was established in 1993, is the most likely forum in which a security dialogue for the Asia-Pacific region can be initiated.12 Part of the reason that regional frameworks did not develop in the northeast is linked to its relative prosperity and its lack of internal threats, such as destabilizing minorities. By way of dissimilarity, nearly all Southeast Asian states have serious problems stemming from highly diversified societies. These ethnic conflicts, which sometimes spill over borders, led Southeast Asian countries to find cooperative solutions to shared problems and goals. Indeed, ASEAN was created in 1967 because the leaders of ASEAN nations “sought to reduce the challenges to their domestic rule by containing intra-regional disputes through the recognition of the juncture between the stability of the region and that of the domestic order of member states.”13 This should not suggest that the southeast has no external threats. In fact, external threats to the region help further explain the southeast’s propensity to cooperate, because external threats come from bigger neighbors, such as China, which warrant a collective security effort. In contrast, there is not only a lack of such internal threats in the northeast, there is a great deal of external threat between bigger powers.14 This abundance of external threat arises, in part, out of the fact that the fundamental disputes between the major powers have not been laid to rest (unlike the disputes between the major powers in Europe—that is, the reconciliation between France and Germany).15 When the Cold War collapsed and the Soviet Union disappeared, the communist bloc in Central and Eastern Europe also disintegrated. But in the Asia-Pacific region, especially in the northeast, the collapse of the Soviet Union was not accompanied by the end of key communist regimes. China, Vietnam and North Korea remained and, as a result, an element of the Cold War also remained.16 As Reinhard Drifte observes, It was Europe which saw after 1989 the most spectacular changes in its security environment, whereas in Asia not much seemed to have happened. Whereas in Europe people were celebrating the lifting of the Iron Curtain, best symbolized by Germany’s reunification, nothing on a comparable scale seemed to have happened in Asia. Although there were positive changes in Asia like the end of foreign intervention in Cambodia or the recognition of South Korea by China and Russia, these changes meant little to Japan immediately after 1989.17

Grievances and tensions resulting from these unresolved issues from the Second World War, high regional military expenditures and a very active regional arms trade, mean that talk of forming Asian-wide security structures and institutions falls on deaf ears, including in Tokyo. Japan has shown a wariness towards proposals for regional security frameworks, such as the conference on comprehensive security and cooperation in Asia, a counterpart to the European-based OSCE, because it claims that Asian se-

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curity is too sensitive and too varied to be resolved by a huge, highly politicized forum.18 Instead, up until very recently, Japan preferred subregional, ad hoc groupings or bilateral arrangements. Differences also existed in the domestic levels of the German and Japanese policy-making environments, although for the most part Germany and Japan’s societal levels were the same. For instance, both their publics and their political parties evidenced similar characteristics in both case studies. Moreover, there was ample evidence that publics in the FRG and Japan exhibited increasingly sophisticated understandings of regional security issues as the first post-Cold War decade advanced. In the Gulf War, publics in both the FRG and Japan harbored deep-rooted doubts about their militaries. The predominant attitude in both countries’ public debates on the Gulf War was that neither state had a role to play in the conflict. But over the course of the next few years public acceptance of greater participation in certain kinds of missions (i.e., humanitarian) increased in both states and quite markedly in Germany as a response to the butchery in the former Yugoslavia. By 1994, observers could measure a steady growth in public support for Germany’s assumption of more regional and international responsibility. In Japan’s case, the public’s growing willingness to discuss Japan’s future international role was a dramatic change in the overall domestic environment. Another important difference in Japan and Germany’s overall foreign policy-making environment lies in the structure of their respective governments. This difference is related to the divergent roles of their executive branches, the processes of choosing a new executive, the power and role of their bureaucracies and business groups versus the power of their executives and the role that state institutions play in their overall decision-making processes. For example, in Germany the chancellor has substantial influence on foreign policy. This leverage emerges both from his constitutional authority and his elevated practical role in making policy in the FRG. However, in Japan the executive plays a far less important role in the policy-making process. Prime ministers are normally chosen for their noncontroversial qualities. The Japanese executive’s influence in the policy-making process is hindered further by the autonomy and power of government ministries, the exploitation of party officials, bureaucrats and businessmen in an “old boy” network and a bureaucratically created, complicated, costly and corrupt regulatory system. Additionally, the public does not have any voter control over the bureaucrats and large business interests. More often than not, the various ministerial bureaucracies decide the national agenda among themselves through institutional memory: a policy that served each bureaucracy best in the past will serve it in the future. This process of making foreign policy differs from the German practice, where it is under constant scrutiny by the public, opposition parties and the Länder governments.

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For similar reasons the roles of decision makers also evidenced strong differences in the German and Japanese environments. For example, weak and frequently changed Japanese prime ministers did not create opportunities, while the iron triangle’s grip on the policy-making system slowed the process down and biased it toward narrow economic or business interests. Often during the Cold War the only way the foreign policy decision-making process in Japan could move forward, or move beyond sheer economic interests, was through outside pressure, notably from the United States. In the Gulf War, one can find evidence that the United States once again was a de facto participant in Japan’s foreign and security affairs.

A GENTLE GIANT OR AN EMERGING REGIONAL LEADER? In his article examining the German foreign policy discourse, Gunther Hellmann argues that there are four potential future directions for German foreign policy. He gives them the following headings: World Power, Wider West, Carolingian Europe and Mitteleuropa. In the World Power scenario, Germany would choose to develop nuclear weapons and become the hegemon in Europe. “Germany would, thus,” Hellmann writes, “break with its current orientation of being both a low key military power and a player in world politics that acts almost exclusively within and through multilateral institutions. Instead, it would assume a role in international politics similar to the ones ascribed to traditional great powers by realists.”19 However, Hellmann discounts this recourse for several reasons: first, Germany is unlikely to obtain nuclear weapons (because of stipulations in the Two plus Four agreement and opposition both in Germany and by German allies); second, Germany simply does not have the resources to become a great power, and; third, all the five schools of thought that dominate the foreign policy debate in Germany suggest that Germany should not aim for hegemonic leadership of the European Union nor should it aspire to a global leadership role in the traditional great power sense. In the Wider West strategy, Germany would need to work toward both EU and NATO enlargement. This would have the dual benefit of continuing a proven successful pattern of policy making and gaining some protection from eastern trouble spots. This particular strategy, Hellmann argues, is the one preferred by most policy makers and the predominant blueprint favored by most of the five schools he outlines (as discussed in chapter 2). Carolingian Europe is a grand scheme in which German foreign affairs would continue to concentrate on creating a deeper political and economic union with core European members of the EU. “As things currently stand, this ‘hard core’ of the European Union would probably consist of Germany, France, Luxembourg, the Netherlands, and, possibly Belgium and

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Austria, thereby encompassing almost all of the old Carolingian Empire.”20 This strategy does not mean that other European countries are excluded. Rather it means that the core would move ahead with further integration without other states and might make membership qualifications more stringent. Hellmann argues that this blueprint is favored by Europeanists and some influential voices including former Chancellor Kohl. In the Mitteleuropa option, Germany would try to extend its influence eastward unilaterally without its Western allies. Although German interests with its eastern neighbors sometimes are in conflict with the interests of its major western partners, particularly France and Great Britain, few Germans believe that the FRG should create separate institutions to deal with Central and Eastern Europe. Hellmann outlines several reasons for this: Germany would find it nearly impossible to extend an arm of stability eastward without securing the political and material support of its western allies; it is unlikely that East and Central European states would join institutions dominated by Germany, and; developing unilateral ties with Central and Eastern Europe would lead to a deterioration of relations with the West and possible suspicions of Germany’s intentions. Thus, this strategy is highly unlikely. Of the four grand foreign affairs stratagems that he delineates, Hellmann finds the World Power one least likely, the Mitteleuropa one only slightly more credible and the Carolingian Europe and the Wider West options the most probable. In all likelihood, however, German foreign policy will continue to be somewhat schizophrenic. This is in part because Germany’s policy-making environment will continue to be awash in contradiction, and in part because the FRG lacks a broad-based tradition of strategic thinking. As Ralph Thiele, a lecturer in military strategy at the Federal Armed Forces Command and General Staff College, Hamburg, writes, “Germany lacks the continuous intellectual and personal exchanges between political, economic, and scientific leaders that are common in the United States. As a result, the country lacks the practical and theoretical knowledge linking strategy and current political challenges.”21 The FRG also exhibits a propensity to avoid making the tough decisions that would enable it to sort out the contradictions in its environment. Instead, German decision makers follow policies that have been called “sowohl-als-auch-politik,” or that Germany tries to “have it all ways.”22 For example, Germany will continue to push for formal recognition as a full member of the UN Security Council (which includes the willingness to assume global and regional responsibilities, even on hard security issues).23 At the same time, German leaders will promote its historic “special state” status, which allows it to downplay traditional politics or talk of national or global interests and responsibilities. Bertel Heurlin calls this “talking normality and non-normality at the same time” or simply Germany’s “doubletalk.”24 Holger Mey calls it Germany’s “preference not to make a preference,” adding “Even if this in-

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cludes a danger of doing the splits and sitting between all chairs.”25 In a similar description, Elizabeth Pond writes that German “attempts to accommodate its allies and clients . . . require a constant Spagat, or the splits.”26 Josef Joffe makes analogies between today’s Germany and Frederick the Great’s: both have had “to juggle more balls than most”; today’s Germany deals with this situation by “keeping all options open.”27 Christoph Bertram writes, “When called on to assume, for all to see, greater international responsibilities, Germans prefer to retreat into the ranks of the EU. Sometimes it even seems that the ineffectiveness of Europe’s Common Foreign and Security Policy is not entirely unwelcome since it shields Germany from the risks of both international exposure and involvement.”28 However one chooses to describe it, retreating into the EU’s ranks or doing the Spagat, it is clear that the Federal Republic of Germany will try to follow a multifunctional and multi-goal foreign and security policy. It will continue to support the Atlantic alliance and foster a “special relationship” with the United States. At the same time, Germany will continue to push for deeper European integration and may advocate acceleration of a hard core of ready and willing states, as it did in 1994 with its “core Europe” initiative (which went over like a lead balloon in other EU capitals). It will also continue to push eastern expansion of Western institutions and invest in its eastern neighbors, ultimately greatly influencing them. It will also occasionally project its growing confidence, as Chancellor Gerhard Schröder illustrated in August 1999, after his accelerated move of the German government to Berlin. Schröder declared that Germany should “consider itself a great power in Europe.” Germany probably will do all these things without perceiving the contradictions and even incompatibilities (such as differences of opinion with France over the future course of European integration and the priority that the EU should accord to the East as opposed to the South).29 Moreover, it will wonder why its allies are not as enthusiastic as it is for these sometimes contradictory and incompatible paths. Germans will also wonder why they are sometimes misunderstood; for if Berlin continues to practice sowohl-als-auch-politik it will be hindered by obfuscating its own intentions. If Germany’s allies want to avoid future misunderstandings, they should consider the overall environment in which Germany makes its foreign policy. Similarly, if Germany’s alliance partners want it to become more involved in global affairs, they must comprehend the complicating factors that hinder its emergence as a regional and world leader. The environmental model points out those elements that need attention and those areas where external influence might be applied successfully. Although it appears that the question is no longer whether Germany will participate in future peace-support operations (as well as combat operations beyond German treaty territory), but how and under what circumstances, finding

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the right way forward is nevertheless proving to be extremely perplexing. As Helga Haftendorn wrote in 1996, “Fulfilling [the expectations of Germany’s allies and partners] and combining this with its traditional multinational style is indeed the biggest foreign policy challenge Germany has faced since unification.” Haftendorn continues, “It is Germany’s dilemma that many of its partners on the one hand want it to provide political leadership, and on the other to remain weak and constrained enough not to threaten them and their role. In their eyes, Germany should be an elephant and a mouse at the same time. To find the right balance between strength and restraint in its foreign policy will thus be one of the biggest challenges of the future.”30

Germany and the Kosovo Crisis In early 1998, large-scale fighting broke out in Kosovo between Serb forces and Kosovar Albanian paramilitary groups, resulting in the immediate displacement of some 300,000 Kosovar Albanians. Over the course of the next months another 100,000 Kosovars fled their homes and some 1,500 were killed. As winter approached, threatening the lives of those taking refuge in the surrounding mountains, the North Atlantic Council authorized air strikes to stop Serb actions against the ethnic Albanians living in the region.31 An eleventh-hour ceasefire brokered in October 1998 by U.S. Special Envoy Richard Holbrooke enabled refugees to return and prevented a humanitarian crisis over the winter. Additionally, it was agreed that a Kosovo Verification Mission (KVM) would be deployed under the OSCE in order to observe compliance with UN Resolution 1199 on the ground.32 At the same time, NATO established an aerial surveillance mission. However, violence continued with the situation growing acute in January 1999. The Contact Group (launched in 1992 at the London Conference on the former Yugoslavia, consisting of the United States, Great Britain, France, Germany, Italy and Russia) reconvened and pushed for more diplomacy backed by NATO air strikes.33 A peace conference was held in Rambouillet from 6–23 February and again in Paris 15–18 March.34 On 19 March, negotiations broke up after the Yugoslav delegation refused to accept the settlement. The OSCE’s 1,500-manned Kosovo Verification Mission was subsequently withdrawn. In accordance with its threats, on 24 March NATO began Operation Allied Force, a bombing campaign over the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. After seventy-seven days of bombing, Yugoslav President Slobodan Milosevic accepted the peace terms presented to him by EU Envoy Martti Ahtisaari (Finland’s president) and special representative of the president of the Russian Federation, Viktor Chernomyrdin. On 12 June, under the authorization of the UN, NATO forces were deployed into Kosovo under Operation Joint Guardian, while all Serb forces and paramilitaries left the region. KFOR, as the NATO-led in-

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ternational peacekeeping force in Kosovo was to be called, assumed the basic task of monitoring, verifying and enforcing compliance with the Military-Technical Agreement.35 KFOR also assisted the UN high commissioner for refugees (UNHCR) in returning refugees to their homes, provided a basic level of law and order to the war-torn region and generally assisted the UN Interim Administration Mission in Kosovo (UNMIK) in its reconstruction efforts. Despite the fact that the Federal Republic of Germany had a Green in the foreign minister’s seat and a Social Democrat in the chancellor’s, the FRG played an important role in the NATO action against Milosevic’s government. Significantly, Gerhard Schröder, the newly elected German chancellor (October 1998), did not veer in his support for NATO action in the Balkans. Speaking soon after the air strikes began, Schröder said, “Milosevic’s regime has stepped up its war on the people of Kosovo. . . . It would have been cynical and irresponsible to stand by and watch this humanitarian catastrophe. . . . We therefore had no other choice but to carry out NATO’s threat together with our Allies and give a clear signal that we will not tolerate the further systematic violation of human rights in Kosovo.”36 After six weeks of bombing and, unfortunately some legitimate criticism of the manner in which the refugee crisis was handled, the German foreign minister (and also vice-chancellor), Joschka Fischer, said that it was too early to speak of a halt to NATO’s bombs. The Green’s foreign policy spokesman in the Bundestag, Helmut Lippelt, was equally supportive of NATO strikes. At the end of March, Lippelt sought to prepare for the discussion of NATO ground troops: “We will not be able to resist the pressure much longer if Kosovo keeps burning. Parliament must be ready in the face of this inferno.”37 Soon after these statements, Lippelt accused Milosevic of practicing “racist expulsion, accompanied by murder” and described Serb acts as deeds that “even a pacifist cannot bear.”38 These quotes should not suggest that differences did not exist within the coalition government. Indeed, prolonged NATO attacks risked breaking apart the coalition, as many in the Green party were against the air strikes and as a result signed an antiwar petition that accused NATO and the German government of aggression in the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia. Many Green party delegates at a special party congress, convened on 13 May 1999, called for a permanent, unilateral ceasefire by NATO. After all, this was the party that developed out of the citizens’ protest movements of the 1970s and 1980s, successfully uniting opponents of nuclear power and pacifist tendencies. When they first won seats in the Bundestag in 1983, the Greens argued for a withdrawal of all foreign troops from Eastern and Western Europe and the creation of a weapons-free zone in their place. It was thus with a slim majority that the Greens voted to support the Kosovo policy of the coalition government. Prominent Greens who criticized the strikes included Environment Minister Jürgen Trittin and Gisela

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Altmann, a junior minister.39 Within the ruling coalition dissent also came from leading Social Democrats. One must remember from chapter 3 that a majority of the SPD had been against any German participation in the UN peacekeeping mission to Bosnia.40 Moreover, resolve to maintain a cohesive NATO did not translate into a German willingness to start a ground war. Schröder felt the discussion over the use of ground troops was a “pseudo-debate on what you would do if your current tactics don’t succeed.” He further argued, “There are a lot of disadvantages to this debate. The more you discuss it, the more you throw doubt on the air campaign.”41 Instead of taking the British line that the intimidation of troops was necessary to legitimize NATO’s threat, Germany took the initiative on the diplomatic front. In its attempts to influence the events in the Balkans, Germany was aided by the fact that it held the EU’s and the WEU’s rotating presidency in the first half of 1999 as well as the chairmanship of the Group of Seven plus Russia (G8). In April, the FRG produced a draft design for Stability Pact, intended to provide comprehensive measures for the long-term stabilization, democratization and economic reconstruction of the entire region. Speaking at a summit in Brussels where he introduced the draft, Schröder outlined the EU’s role in the Balkans: “It has become clear that we believe there can only be a lasting peace in the area if there is an improvement in the economic and social structure of the entire region. It is important that the EU feels responsible for the development of the region, its infrastructure, its standards of education and its economic and social structure.”42 Also in April, Germany hosted a meeting of political directors of the G8 foreign ministers in Dresden. The subsequent G8 meeting in Bonn, in May, further focused on a German five-step peace plan.43 The important breakthrough of these meetings was overcoming various differences between Russia and NATO on crucial points of the diplomatic settlement to be offered to Milosevic. Fischer was instrumental in making certain that Russian sensitivities were considered.44 These various meetings culminated in the introduction of the UN-backed international peacekeeping force that was presented to Milosevic by Ahtisaari and Chernomyrdin.45 Soon after Milosevic accepted the peace plan, Germany hosted a summit for the foreign ministers of the EU in Cologne (3–4 June 1999). At the summit, Germany’s South-East European Stability Pact went beyond draft form. It was launched on 10 June not only by the foreign ministers of the EU, but also by those of the United States, Russia, Canada and Japan.46 Additionally, and perhaps more important, EU leaders agreed to convene a new Intergovernmental Conference (IGC) to discuss, among various issues, the further development of a Common Foreign and Security Policy beyond the Maastricht Treaty and to establish an eighteen-month deadline for the adoption of a more “autonomous European defense posture” (in other words, independent from the United States) that gives the EU “the

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necessary means and capabilities” for “conflict prevention and crisis management.”47 This latter issue originates from the “British-French Joint Declaration on European Defense” adopted at St. Malo on 4 December 1998. Also in this line, it was decided at Cologne to transform the Eurocorps into a rapid-response corps. Former NATO chief Javier Solana was also appointed as the EU’s high representative for CFSP. Beyond diplomacy, Germany also made direct military contributions to NATO actions against the Milosevic government. For example, the Luftwaffe participated in NATO air strikes with Tornado aircraft, thereby taking the German military on its first combat mission since 1945. Although the British are the leading contributor of troops to KFOR, the Germans are the second biggest contributor. The Germans are also in charge of one of the five Multinational Brigade Sectors in Kosovo with 5,000 Bundeswehr soldiers deployed as part of the rapid reaction forces. In October 1999, a German, General Klaus Reinhardt, took over the command of KFOR from Britain’s General Sir Michael Jackson. Reinhardt commands 49,000 personnel from seventeen NATO member states and twenty-one partner non-NATO states. It should further be noted that the German public evidenced a relatively high degree of support for NATO actions against Milosevic. Fifty-two percent believed that air strikes should not only continue but that they should continue even if some German soldiers were to die.48 Another poll suggested that 60 percent of Germans believed that NATO’s air strikes were justified. Unlike during the Gulf War, there were no massive street protests carried out by a radicalized portion of the population. The general shift in German attitude toward the use of force in certain cases was succinctly caught by General Klaus Naumann soon after he left the post of chairman of NATO’s Military Committee. Naumann believed that NATO might have fared better in its efforts to bring Milosevic to the bargaining table if it had dropped even more bombs even sooner and had been less constrained by the need to avoid hitting civilian targets.49 How has the Federal Republic in general changed under a “red-Green” government and what are the possibilities that the current government will be able to provide political-military leadership within the European context? The manner in which France and Britain treated the new government soon after it took over in Bonn gives some indication of what the future holds for German regional influence. When German officials arrived in London in January 1999 for talks on finding a political solution to the Kosovo crisis, they discovered that the French and the British had already set up the Rambouillet talks and appointed themselves as cochairmen, leaving the Germans as mere “houseguests.”50 Despite this early callous disregard for the sister socialist government in Germany, it is quite clear that if the European Union is to have an external role the Federal Republic will be an important part of it. Certainly, to date the EU’s Common Foreign

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and Security Policy has been less than satisfactory. As a recent edited volume on CFSP argues, there is a capability expectations gap “between what CFSP is intended to achieve by its advocates, and the day-to-day reality of the reluctance of many (if not most) national governments to transfer or even to share sovereignty over what is still thought to be one of the fundamentals of statehood.”51 The Federal Republic has always been more open to transferring its sovereignty to supranational institutions than other nation-states in Europe. Quite possibly it therefore could be an important player in filling the gap between the EU’s rhetoric concerning CFSP and the reality of European policy, capabilities and military assets. Gerhard Schröder and Joschka Fischer could be influential in this process, especially while the CDU opposition party remains wounded from Kohl’s fall from grace. Both Schröder and Fischer have taken various steps to overcome Europe’s weaknesses in crisis management capabilities. For example, in November 1999, when the defense and foreign ministers of the EU (including the neutral and nonaligned states) met to discuss CFSP, it was Germany that contributed a timetable for the realization of the EU’s defense identity. A substantial component of this identity is to be a rapid reaction corps, which could act in regional crises without the involvement of the United States. Schröder proposed that this corps be developed by 2003, if not before.52 Ultimately, it was Schröder and Fischer who enabled Germany to participate in a “just war” against Serbia. In the latter’s case, it is his pacifist concern for human rights and preventative diplomacy that led Fischer to accept the use of military force for humanitarian aims. He is convinced that the Bundeswehr has a duty to take part in peacekeeping. As Regina Karp points out, “Fischer, more than any German Foreign Minister before him, has stressed Germany’s past and the very special responsibilities he sees arising from it.”53 Fischer has in the process helped the German public to overcome some of the phobias regarding the use of the Bundeswehr in out-of-area situations, especially those in which humanitarian issues are central. Fischer is also convinced that Germany should remain solidly in NATO, and since his hasty retreat after proposing that NATO renounce the first use of nuclear weapons, he has staunchly supported the alliance. As for Schröder, he generally wants to make the Federal Republic’s conduct of foreign affairs more assertive, more self-confident and less hindered by its history. This, of course, is a nontraditional socialist-left credo. Indeed, it is very likely that had the red-Green coalition not won in the September 1998 election Social Democrats and Greens would have opposed NATO’s bombing campaign against Serbia and encouraged public disapproval, making it much more difficult for German troops to participate in any meaningful way in the NATO-led multinational force. But as the winners in the last elections, the SPD under Schröder can speak of “a self-confidence of a grown-up nation that doesn’t have to feel superior or

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inferior to anyone, that accepts its history and responsibility—but is forward looking.”54 Although Schröder brought the Social Democratic Party a stunning win in 1998, state and local electoral defeats in 1999, the loss of control of the Bundesrat in February 1999, the political pragmatism needed to keep his coalition with the Greens and a persistent murkiness in Schröder’s talk of die Neue Mitte ultimately compromise his abilities to lead. He may find that whatever plans he has for Germany’s future foreign policy role are more apt to gather dust on the shelf than they are to see the light of a new millennium. The government’s decision to cut defense spending by as much as DM 18 billion over the next four years further decreases Schröder’s willingness to avail himself of Germany's opportunities to participate in regional security missions, such as another Kosovo crises.55 This budget cut was made despite military analysts’ forecasts that at least an extra DM 20 billion beyond current spending levels (DM 45.3 billion) is needed to modernize equipment and pay for projects such as the Eurofighter. Rudolf Scharping, the German defense minister, also argued, “Apart from the Leopard-2 tank and the Tornado aircraft, all armed forces’ major weapons systems are too old and too expensive to keep going.”56 Such realities in military preparedness and capability will certainly cause problems for Schröder’s plans to promote a more assertive German foreign policy as well as his hopes to build a real CFSP for the European Union. Indeed, German defense spending has decreased to 1.5 percent of GDP, much less than Great Britain and France’s levels of defense spending. If Europe’s extensive problems in inter-operative military hardware (as well as just plain lack of hardware) are to be overcome, defense budgets will have to rise, at least in the short term. This is especially the case if the Europeans, according to Scharping, attempt “to remove some of the security burden from the United States” while “at the same time . . . accept[ing] more responsibility as Europeans.”57 On the other hand, German participation in Kosovo gives a strong indication that the current government in Berlin is willing to more fully exploit opportunities to increase its role in the management of a secure international environment. In general, Kosovo wrought some profound changes in the Europeans’ outlook on their own security architecture. The primary lessons learned from the Kosovo crisis are that the EU’s prestige depends upon its ability to respond to conflict in its neighborhood and that the costs of conflict management are far greater than the costs of conflict prevention. As a result, Kosovo further spurred the Europeans, most noticeably the British, to seriously attempt to build stronger European security and defense institutions and capabilities.58 The Germans are an important component in establishing more effective Euro-security frameworks. In a February 2000 speech on security policy in Munich, Foreign Minister Fischer echoed British Prime Minister Tony Blair and French President Jacques Chirac’s call for the European Union to have “the capacity for au-

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tonomous action.”59 Fischer said, “We must succeed in making it clear [to the Americans] that the rapid development of a genuine European Security and Defense Policy is essential in order to manage crises and that it will benefit both sides. The determination of Europeans to do more stems from Europe’s weakness, demonstrated so clearly to us during the military operation in Kosovo, where the lion’s share of the military risks and responsibilities was assumed by the USA.”60 To date the financial resources have not yet been budgeted to rectify Europe’s lack of military assets, nor have Europe’s defense industries consolidated to the extent that “the capacity for autonomous action” is likely. Other initiatives, such as the appointment of former NATO head Javier Solana as the new high representative for EU external relations and stratagems adopted at the 1999 Cologne and Helsinki summits, may facilitate the emergence of a strong European security and defense framework and capability. However, it is too early to make any assessment of these new features to the European architecture.

JAPAN IN THE NEXT MILLENNIUM In the mid to late 1990s the United States and Japan began renegotiations over and revisions to their bilateral security agreement, including a reconsideration of Japan’s role in any future conflict in the Asia-Pacific region. American objectives in revising the bilateral security agreement stemmed in part from concerns about Japan’s inability to support U.S. forces in the 1994 crisis over North Korea’s secret nuclear weapons program. In February 1995, the U.S. Department of Defense released an East Asia Strategy Report, or what came to be known as the “Nye Report” because of the significant involvement in the writing of the report by Joseph Nye, then assistant secretary of defense for international affairs.61 The Nye Report encouraged Japan to assume more responsibility in defense and promoted a general strengthening of the U.S.-Japan security relationship. In April 1996, Japanese Prime Minister Ryutaro Hashimoto and U.S. President Bill Clinton announced a “U.S.-Japan Joint Declaration on Security” which was designed to initiate a review of the 1978 guidelines between the two countries. In September of the following year, the “Review of the Guidelines for U.S.-Japan Defense Cooperation” was released and declared an “upgrade” chiefly because Japan agreed to play a key support role to the U.S. military in crises that occur in “areas surrounding Japan.”62 This support would take the form of making available certain civilian facilities (i.e., airports and harbors) and SDF facilities. Additionally, the SDF could furnish U.S. troops with nonlethal supplies, intelligence and rearguard support (all provided that the SDF is able to stay clear of the hostilities themselves). Similarly, the agreement provided for the operation of Japanese minesweepers in international waters. However, the SDF still

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could not protect other states or their interests in collective defense arrangements, nor did the “upgrade” essentially change the previous stance on what role the SDF could play in international missions. Although SDF troops might conduct search and rescue missions in international waters, and assist in communications and surveillance, and Japanese vessels might be used to enforce UN-sanctioned embargoes and help in minesweeping activities, no SDF personnel can be required to fight or even enter a conflict situation.63 This effectively means that Japan will continue to have a limited ability to share in the burdens of carrying out UN Security Council decisions. This is despite Japan’s continued strong interest in gaining a permanent seat on the UN Security Council.64 It was not until early 1999 that the Japanese Diet began debate on the revised set of guidelines. Ultimately, the onset of the discussions was heavily influenced and partly precipitated by the 31 August 1998 firing of a two-stage ballistic missile (the Taepodong 1) over northern Japan by North Korea.65 Before the firing of the missile, the Clinton administration had been urging the Japanese to begin their consideration of the guidelines without much success. But after it became apparent that North Korean leader Kim Jong II found holding the region ransom with the threat of testing ever more powerful missiles a useful means of acquiring hard currency for his decrepit regime, Japanese alarm over the North Korean security problem grew.66 North Korea additionally carried out various other provocations, mostly through repeated refusals to allow International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) inspections of its nuclear facilities and clandestine submarine activity in South Korean and Japanese waters. In December 1998, the South Korean navy sank a North Korean sub thirty miles shy of Japanese waters. Adding to concerns was a December 1998 announcement by the United States that spy satellites had detected three new missile launch sites in North Korea. In March 1999, the presence of two North Korean spy ships in Japanese waters increased anxieties over the rogue neighbor. Following these incidents and a general agreement in the ruling coalition (LDP and the Liberal Party, the latter led by Ichiro Ozawa) that the SDF should have an expanded mandate, the Diet finally passed legislation in May 1999 allowing the “upgrade” to the security pact with the United States to be implemented. In the following August, with provocations by North Korea continuing,67 Japan signed an agreement to a five-year program to jointly develop a sea-based Theatre Missile Defense (TMD) system designed to shoot down incoming warheads.68 Plans are also on the board to modernize the SDF while maintaining present force levels. Modernization includes specifying cooperative activities between the Ground Self-Defense Forces and the National Police Agency as well as between the Maritime Safety Agency and the Maritime Self-Defense Force. It is further possible that SDF peacekeeping restrictions will be relaxed by future legislation that allows greater latitude in the use of force.

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Even the restrictions on the use of force to resolve international conflicts found in Japan’s constitution may be removed. In January 2000, the Diet announced that it will begin a five-year formal review of the constitution.69 What do these measures mean for the Japan of the twenty-first century? Ultimately, the various actions taken over the course of the 1990s are positive steps toward the possibility that Japan will assume a politico-military role commensurate with its international economic status. The decision to send troops to Cambodia was an important first step among many. For example, SDF personnel were also sent to Angola (three electoral observers, September-October 1992); Mozambique (260 SDF ground personnel, September to December 1994); El Salvador (forty-eight logistics personnel, five staff officers and fifteen electoral observers, May 1993 to January 1995); the Golan Heights (SDF ground personnel transport units, 1996); Rwanda (118 SDF air personnel, September to December 1994), and; most recently, Japan sent three transport planes to take part in the UN mission in East Timor. However, although participation in UNTAC and the various other missions are positive measures for Japan, they are also rather cautious ones. As J.A.A. Stockwin, a fairly sympathetic Japan-observer, remarks, the legislation allowing the SDF to participate in UN missions (the PKO bill) is “limited in its scope, and [falls] far short of unqualified participation by Japan in UN peace-keeping missions.”70 The eventual passing of the 1997 Japan-U.S. “upgraded” guidelines did considerably expand SDF roles to include rear-area logistical and search and rescue support outside Japan’s territory, but significant obstacles remain. One important barrier is the restricted conduct of the SDF in crisis situations. For example, in the March 1999 North Korean spy ship incident, Japanese patrol boats were permitted only to fire warning shots on the infiltrating vessels. Likewise, Japan’s participation in East Timor, the first important regional crisis to break out after the guidelines were passed, was overly guarded. The small Japanese contribution carried supplies in and out of West Timor but refused to land in East Timor, where SDF troops might have had to use their weapons. Additionally, the Japanese government continues to refuse to allocate the resources needed to develop force-projection capabilities. For instance, in early 2000 the ruling coalition rejected for a fourth time a proposal to purchase a number of airborne-refueling aircraft that would partially rectify Japan’s weakness in force projection. Similar to German policy makers, Japanese leaders continue to avoid the hard and controversial political and military questions concerning Japan’s role in Asia. Further paralleling Germany, in the future Japan will prefer to follow a multi-dimensional foreign policy, what is labeled here a “have-it-all-ways” policy. Japan’s have-it-all-ways policy will mean a delicate balancing act between its traditional postwar U.S.-oriented foreign and security stance and its growing ties with Asia, especially its growing economic ties with

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China. The balancing act means that Japan will not want to seem too pro-American (even too anticommunist), which would alienate Asians, and not too pro-Asia, thereby alienating the Americans. In fact, the negotiations on the revised defense guidelines of the United States-Japan treaty discussed above is a case in point. Although Japan wanted to strengthen ties with the United States by agreeing to provide mainly logistical support to U.S. forces during exercises and UN peacekeeping operations in the Asia-Pacific, it did not want to unduly raise objections in China. Hence, in September 1997, Prime Minister Hashimoto traveled to China to explain that the fortified security alliance in no way was meant to “contain” China. Richard Bernstein and Ross Munro further point out that although there is the explicit need for Japan to remain a firm U.S. ally (because it cannot alone handle China’s growing power in the region nor can it handle a unified Korea by itself), “many elements of Japan’s dominant bureaucratic and corporate interests will probably resist a revived alliance explicitly aimed at balancing China because it will threaten the profits Japan can make in China.”71 Their supposition is supported by the fact that Japan is China’s largest trading partner, that China is Japan’s second largest trading partner and that China is the largest destination for Japanese direct investment among Asian countries. A more conciliatory stance toward China was again in evidence after the May 1999 accidental NATO bombing of the Chinese embassy in Belgrade. At this time, the yet-to-be-passed 1997 Japan-U.S. defense guidelines were about to be debated by the Japanese upper house. In an address to the chamber, Prime Minister Keizo Obuchi tried to deemphasize the guidelines’ impact on regional military affairs: “In light of historical events, we must explain the [defense guidelines] are for the safety of Japan. . . . We obtained a certain amount of understanding when we thoroughly explained [the guidelines] during a visit by President Jiang Zemin last fall.”72 Japan also implored China in mid-1999 to exert whatever influence it might have on North Korea to halt the Korean regime’s ballistic missile testing. As a price for its influence on the Stalinist state, China wanted assurances that Japan would not participate in the U.S.-proposed Theatre Missile Defense system. China is vigorously opposed to the development of a TMD system, especially if it is to include Taiwan.73 When the North Koreans merely announced a delay in their testing, the Japanese in turn simply declared a reaffirmation of their Taiwan policy. Japanese participation in the development of TMD is also a bone of contention in its relations with Russia, further hindering ongoing negotiations on the fate of the Kuriles. On the other hand, despite rosy economic ties with a changing China, the Sino-Japanese association is, like the Japanese-Russian relationship, awkward at best. The 1990s have seen an array of Chinese provocations that include: nuclear tests in 1995; live-fire missile exercises off the coast of Taiwan in March 1996; repeated arguments over small islands claimed by

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both, and; an emphasis on the part of China’s leaders to recount frequently Japanese historical wrongs. In spite of Japan’s formidable largesse of high-technology missiles, tanks, warships and aircraft, the SDF is not big enough to defend Japan against an invasion by China nor does it possess the competence to project its power beyond its own territory. The SDF’s ability to defend the sea-lanes upon which Japan relies is similarly questionable. As a result, Japan’s key to deterring Chinese future aggression in the foreseeable future rests in a strong U.S.-Japanese security alliance. The flip side of Japan’s delicate balancing act between its security reliance on the United States and its growing economic ties with China is a wariness of any establishment of friendship ties between China and the United States. Revealingly, China’s “constructive strategic partnership” with the United States, or what the Clinton administration terms “comprehensive engagement” with the Chinese, is a cause for anxiety in Tokyo. Japanese concern over a budding friendship between China and America is buttressed by the fact that Japan’s economy continues to under perform while China’s continues to grow at a steady pace. Leaders in Tokyo likewise chafe at any perceived American indifference to their distress over any “partnership” with China. As Yoichi Funabashi writes, “Despite American assurances to the contrary, China is perceived to be trying to outflank Japan while U.S.-Japan relations are particularly shaky.”74 As an additional confounding factor in the international relations balancing act, despite overt calls from the United States to raise its regional profile, Japan must be careful not to appear to expand its influence in Asia at the expense of Washington’s leverage in the region.75 Likewise supporting the argument that Japan will try to steer toward a minimal-risk, middle-of-the-road strategy is the fact that Tokyo remains reluctant to delineate areas where it will help America and where it will not, “for fear of causing new instabilities or tying their own hands too closely in a future crisis that affects Japan’s interests.”76 In fact, in the 1997 “up-graded” security alliance, Japan’s support for U.S. troops does not mean that the SDF will be utilized in a regional conflict, “even in a conflict such as a new war on the Korean Peninsula, which poses perhaps a more immediate threat to Japan than to the United States.”77 Moreover, the enhanced SDF role does not mean that Japanese troops will cooperate with the U.S. military as closely as the Bundeswehr presently cooperates with U.S. forces. The have-it-all-ways policy will also require a delicate balancing act between Japan’s desire to identify with other advanced industrial democracies of the West and members of the G-7(8), while simultaneously promoting relations and a security dialogue with its Asia-Pacific neighbors. Additionally, the have-it-all-ways policy will come into conflict with Japan’s continued emphasis on seeking a more elevated position in the United Nations. This latter drive continues to be hindered by the restrictions that Article 9 places on Japan’s regional role and its right of collective

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self-defense. Changing Article 9 remains difficult. Modifications must take into account a large segment of the public that is still wary of the military. Although 1999 opinion surveys record a significant proportion of the Japanese public ready to debate the constitution, overall public opinion in Japan is still divided over the nature of Japan’s future security role and on the question whether or not the SDF should take part in collective security missions abroad.78 Another element affecting Tokyo’s willingness to follow something other than a have-it-all-ways foreign policy is the fact that the principal enabling factor of Japan’s enhanced role in the post-Cold War world was further impaired in the 1990s. After the bubble economy collapsed, Japan entered a period of stagnation. In 1992, that stagnation changed into an economic recession. In 1997, Japan’s economy betrayed another truth: just like other East Asian economies, it was built on rickety legs. The overvalued capital market, the overpriced property market, the inefficient and debt-ridden banking system and the overregulated service sector all contributed to an economic crash in Japan and swung it into a persistent deflationary spiral. The resulting recession is ongoing as this work is written, with fourth quarter 1999 statistics revealing that the federal stimulus packages not only failed to prompt private sector demand but that the outlay of money bloated government debt. In early 2000, Japanese unemployment rates rose in response to forced corporate downsizing and restructuring.79 Dire economic forecasts have translated into a reserve to play a larger political-military role in the world. As Funabashi observes, the Japanese again feel “vulnerable” about their “place in the world” and are pessimistic about Japan’s potential to affect positive change.80 These insecurities, in turn, affected how Japan dealt with the Asian financial crisis and the calls, particularly from Southeast Asia, for it to assume a role leading the region out of the financial quagmire. “In the face of the crisis,” Christopher Johnstone writes, “Tokyo again responded at best with policy prescriptions that Washington deems insufficient—and at worst with outright paralysis.”81 The Clinton administration is adamant in its calls for the Japanese to reform their own financial sector, believing that the region’s recovery is contingent upon Japan’s own economic revival. “Tokyo’s unwillingness,” Johnstone continues, “to confront the troubles in Japan’s financial sector—which include bad loans totaling as much as $1 trillion—has been an irritant in U.S.-Japan relations for much of the decade. Even in the face of the Asian economic crisis, however, Japanese policy makers, led by the MoF, stubbornly resisted calls for change.”82 This stubbornness on the part of Japanese policy makers leads to a discussion of the final ingredient in Tokyo’s preference for a have-it-all-ways foreign policy. Any movement toward a change of Japan’s regional role or, indeed, toward internal reforms, will be hindered by a still powerful iron triangle of bureaucrats, LDP politicians and business lobby groups that

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will push for the status quo—a cozy system, even lifestyle, that they have enjoyed for the entire postwar era. At present, it appears that members of the iron triangle will retain their oligarchy of power in the Japanese state for a long time to come. Shortly after the LDP’s comfortable election victory and return to the majority in the lower house in October 1996, the LDP began dividing up power along traditional factional lines, indicating that pre-1993 practices such as factional infighting and backroom deal making would once again become the norm. A return of these practices means a slower pace toward reform and deregulation and a cautious curbing of the bureaucracy (if not a wholesale return to courting it). In fact, it seems that LDP party members rapidly returned to politics as usual soon after the LDP negotiated a majority in the Diet. Such politics resulted in a whole host of pork-barrel spending proposals for the 1997 budget, including the restoration of rice subsidies, various new “public works” programs and a whole network of new bullet-train routes for remoter parts of Japan.83 This pork, along with recent government spending sprees designed to reinvigorate the economy (which have been largely unsuccessful), helped to push the Japanese national debt up to 123 percent of its GDP, making Japan the largest debtor nation in the world.84

NOTES 1. Charles F. Hermann. 1995. “Epilogue: Reflections on Foreign Policy Theory Building.” In Foreign Policy Analysis, ed. Laura Neack, Jeanne A. K. Hey and Patrick J. Haney. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall. p. 245. 2. Ibid. 3. See Mark J. Valencia. 1997. “Energy and Insecurity in Asia.” Survival 39(3): 85–106. 4. The Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe (OSCE), formerly know as the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe, was established in 1975 as part of the Helsinki Final Act. It was meant to provide a confidence-building mechanism to help overcome the East-West divide. It has fifty-three member states. Its main focus today is conflict prevention. The 1990 Paris Charter considerably strengthened the OSCE’s functions as a diplomatic framework while the 1994 Budapest Conference transformed its essentially cooperative process into an organization. 5. For an analysis of why the Chinese prefer bilateral relations, see Banning Garrett and Bonnie Glaser. 1994. “Multilateral Security in the Asia-Pacific Region and its Impact on Chinese Interests: Views from Beijing.” Contemporary Southeast Asia 16(1): 14. 6. Nevertheless, as the decade wound itself down, Japanese blueprints for a regional multilateral security dialogue were advanced. In April 1998, Japanese Prime Minister Ryutaro Hashimoto presented a proposal to bring the four major powers of the Asia-Pacific (the United States, China, Japan and Russia) together in frequent summit-level talks on security issues.

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7. Michael Yahuda. 1996. The International Politics of the Asia-Pacific, 1945–1995. New York: Routledge. pp. 98, 273. 8. Simon Duke. 1995. “Northeast Asian Security.” Journal of East Asian Affairs 9(2): 325. 9. Paul Dibb. 1995. “Towards a New Balance of Power in Asia.” Adelphi Paper 295. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 11. 10. Ibid. p. 10. 11. Yahuda. 1996. p. 9. 12. However, it should be noted that ASEAN did not act as a particularly helpful entity in the Asian financial crisis. 13. Yahuda. 1996. p. 4. 14. Duke. 1995. p. 374. Additionally, the end of the Cold War exposed older conflicts in the Asia-Pacific which magnified the external threats. 15. Ibid. p. 327, and; Dibb. 1995. pp. 10–11. 16. Yahuda. 1996. p. 5. 17. Reinhard Drifte. 1996. Japan’s Foreign Policy in the 1990s. New York: St. Martin’s. p. 51. 18. Howard H. Baker and Ellen L. Frost. 1992. “Rescuing the U.S.-Japan Alliance.” Foreign Affairs 71(2): 104. 19. Gunther Hellmann. 1996. “Goodbye Bismarck? The Foreign Policy of Contemporary Germany.” Mershon International Studies Review 40: 21. 20. Ibid. p. 23. 21. Ralph D. Thiele. 1999. “On the Reorientation of German Strategic Thinking.” National Security Studies Quarterly 5(1): 68. 22. See Timothy Garton Ash. 1994. “Germany’s Choice.” Foreign Affairs 73(4): 78. 23. See, for example, the many statements the German Ambassador to the UN has made regarding reform of the membership of the Security Council, including: “Statement by Ambassador Dr. Gerhard Henze, Acting Permanent Representative of Germany to the United Nations to the Open-Ended Working Group on the Question of Equitable Representation on and Increase in the Membership of the Security Council and other Matters related to the Security Council,” 23 May 1996, Permanent Mission of Germany to the United Nations, ; “Statement by Ambassador Tono Eitel, Permanent Representative of Germany to the United Nations, to the United Nations’ 52nd General Assembly, Agenda item 59: Question of equitable representation on and increase in the membership of the Security Council,” 4 December 1997, Permanent Mission of Germany to the United Nations, , and; “Statement by Ambassador Tono Eitel, Permanent Representative of Germany to the United Nations, to the Open-Ended Working Group on the Question of Equitable Representation on and Increase in the Membership of the Security Council and other Matters related to the Security Council,” 26 May 1998, Permanent Mission of Germany to the United Nations, . 24. Bertel Heurlin. 1996. “The International Position and the National Interest of Germany in the Nineties.” In Germany in Europe in the Nineties, ed. Bertel Heurlin. New York: St. Martin’s. p. 45.

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25. Holger H. Mey. “German-American Relations: the Case for a Preference.” Comparative Strategy 14: 205. 26. David Schoenbaum and Elizabeth Pond. 1996. The German Question and Other German Questions. New York: St. Martin’s Press. p. 213. 27. Josef Joffe. 1996. “German Grand Strategy after the Cold War.” In Germany in Europe in the Nineties, ed. Bertel Heurlin. New York: St. Martin’s. p. 269. 28. Christoph Bertram. 1998. “Germany Moves On.” Foreign Affairs 77(4): 191. 29. Another example of Germany pursuing conflicting policies can be found in its relations with Iran. Although the United States wanted Germany to follow its policy of treating Iran as a rogue state and Israel was upset over German relations with Iran, Germany, mindful of its export-driven economy and Iran’s $8.5 billion debt to it, continued to foster the EU’s policy of “critical dialogue” with Teheran. 30. Helga Haftendorn. 1996. “Gulliver in the Centre of Europe.” In Germany in Europe in the Nineties, ed. Bertel Heurlin. New York: St. Martin’s. p. 113. 31. Over the course of 1998, the United Nations Security Council passed four resolutions (1160 on 31 March; 1186 on 21 July; 1199 on 23 September, and; 1203 on 24 October) calling for a peaceful resolution of the Kosovo crisis. 32. Specifically, the verifiers’ task was to confirm the ceasefire, investigate violations of human rights, report on obstacles to returning refugees and aid in the supervision of elections. 33. See “Chairman’s Conclusions,” Contact Group, London, 22 January 1999, Office of the High Representative, , and; “Conclusions,” Contact Group, London, 29 January 1999, Office of the High Representative, . 34. See “Rambouillet Accords: Co-Chairmen’s Conclusions,” Contact Group, Rambouillet, 23 February 1999, Office of the High Representative, . 35. The agreement was signed by Lt. Gen. Sir Michael Jackson, on behalf of NATO, by Col. Gen. Svetozar Marjanovic of the Yugoslav Army and Lt. Gen. Obrad Stevanovic of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, on behalf of the governments of the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia and Republic of Serbia, on 9 June 1999. 36. “Government Policy Statement by Chancellor Gerhard Schröder on the Conclusion of the EU Summit Meeting in Berlin and on the NATO operation in Yugoslavia,” 26 March 1999, Berlin, FRG. 37. Haig Simonian, “Germany, Israel and Spain differ,” Financial Times, 31 March 1999. 38. Tony Barber, “Germany: Lining up behind NATO action,” Financial Times, 5 April 1999. 39. Haig Simonian, “War Tests Red-Green coalition,” Financial Times, 23 April 1999. 40. See also Roger Boyes, “Germans turn on leader ‘in thrall to Blair,’ ” London Times, 30 July 1999. 41. Stephen Fidler and David Buchan, “Troops: consensus still elusive,” Financial Times, 26 April 1999. 42. Peter Norman, “Ethnic Cauldron: EU aims to take heat off,” Financial Times, 21 April 1999. 43. See “G-8 statement on regional issues,” 20 June 1999. , and; “Proposals of the G8 Presidency in

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the light of the discussions on civilian implementation in Kosovo,” 10 June 1999. . 44. See “Pressekonferenz mit Bundesaußenminister Joschka Fischer am 7 April 1999 im Auswärtigen Amt zur aktuellen Lage im Kosovo nach dem serbischen Angebot enines ‘Waffenstillstandes,’” . 45. See “Letter, Permanent Representative of Germany to the President of the UN Security Council,” 7 June 1999. . 46. “Stability Pact for South Eastern Europe,” 10 June 1999, . 47. “Declaration of the European Council and Presidency report on strengthening the European common policy on security and defense,” attached to “Presidency Conclusions Cologne European Council, 3–4 June 1999.” 48. Andreas Borchers and Bettina Schneuer, “Wie Lange Halten Sie Das Durch?” Stern, 15 April 1999; see also Tony Barber, 5 April 1999. 49. “Bombs over Belgrade, diplomatic as well as military,” The Economist, 8 May 1999. 50. “Germany comes out of its post-war shell,” The Economist, 10 July 1999. 51. John Peterson and Helene Sjursen, eds. 1998. A Common Foreign Policy for Europe? London: Routledge. p. vix. 52. “The EU turns its attention from ploughshares to swords,” The Economist, 20 November 1999. 53. Regina Karp. 1999. “The Sovereignty Issue in German Foreign and Security Policy.” Presented at the annual meeting of the International Studies Association, Washington, D.C. 54. Ralph Atkins, “Goodbye to all that,” Financial Times, 30 December 1998. 55. Cuts were also made despite the fact that the FRG had already decreased its military outlays by 28 percent over the previous decade (1989–1998). See Elisabeth Sköns, Agnes Courades Allebeck, Evamaria Loose-Weintraub and Petr Stålenheim. 1999. “Military Expenditure.” In SIPRI Yearbook 1999: Armaments, Disarmament and International Security. Oxford: Oxford University Press. pp. 298, 306, 312, 320, 324. 56. “A bigger Germany say—but fewer guns?” The Economist, 18 September 1999. 57. “Meeting the Challenges of the Future—Germany’s Contribution to Peace and Security in and for Europe,” speech by Rudolf Scharping, FRG Minister of Defense, at the Center for Strategic and International Studies, 23 November 1998. . 58. See Roberta N. Haar. 2000. “The Kosovo Crisis and its Consequences for a European Security Architecture.” In Kosovo: Lessons Learned for International Cooperative Security, eds. Kurt R. Spillmann and Joachim Krause. Frankfurt: Peter Lang. pp. 118–124. 59. In December 1998 at St. Malo, Blair and Chirac called for the EU to have “the capacity for autonomous action.”

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60. Speech by Joschka Fischer, Federal Minister for Foreign Affairs, at the 36th Munich Conference on Security Policy, 5 February 2000, press release, 7 February 2000, German Federal Foreign Office, Berlin. 61. See “Strategy for East Asia and the U.S.-Japan Security Alliance,” Remarks by Joseph S. Nye Jr., Assistant Secretary of Defense for International Security Affairs, Pacific Forum Center for Strategic and International Studies/Japanese Institute of International Affairs Conference, San Francisco, 29 March 1995, . 62. The vague phrase “the areas surrounding Japan” was the cause of some consternation. In May 1998, the Director General of the Japanese Foreign Ministry’s North American Affairs Bureau, Toshiyuki Takano, reported to the Diet that this description included Taiwan. Beijing immediately expressed “strong indignation at the move by the Japanese side of wanton interference in China’s internal affairs.” Japan moved to play down Takano’s remarks and reemphasize the vagueness of the guidelines’ applicable areas. See “China Upset Over U.S.-Japan Defense Agreement,” Global Intelligence Update, . 63. Kevin Sullivan, “Albright Heralds New Era For U.S.-Japan Alliance,” International Herald Tribune, 24 September 1997. 64. Takao Takahara writes that Japanese, “Foreign Ministry officials are known to be particularly keen on [securing a permanent seat on the UNSC], nor do the public dislike an idea which generates national pride.” Takao Takahara. 1996. “Japan.” In Challenges for the New Peacekeepers, ed. Trevor Findlay. SIPRI Research Report No. 12. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 64. 65. In September 1998, North Koreans announced that it was not a ballistic missile that they fired in August, but rather a satellite launch. U.S. intelligence agencies confirmed this. However, U.S. State Department spokesman James Rubin made clear that the military implications of the test were the same, no matter what had been launched. Moreover, the Taepodong was now believed to be a three-stage missile with an estimated range of 2,408 to 3,720 miles, which more than doubled earlier estimates. See “Theater Missile Defense in Northeast Asia,” Chronology: 1998, Center for Nonproliferation Studies, Monterey Institute of International Studies, . 66. The Taepodong 2 rocket is predicted to have a range capable of hitting the United States. 67. For example, in June 1999, North Korea exchanged live ammunition with South Korea, for the first time since the Korean War in 1950–1953, over fishing rights in the Yellow Sea. 68. Since 1993, the Japanese have resisted U.S. requests to develop TMD, arguing that by the time it becomes operational (estimates are that it will take at least ten years) North Korea will no longer be a threat. As a result, SIPRI researchers think that Japan’s current agreement to develop TMD, “may not be sustained through to deployment.” Sköns, Courades Allebeck, Loose-Weintraub and Stålenheim. 1999. p. 363. 69. The decision to set up study groups in both houses of the Diet on the constitution came after a panel of Japanese academics, journalists and artists called for a public debate on the Japanese “right of collective defense.” “Japan’s Obuchi to

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Study Constitution, International Collective Defence,” Financial Times, 18 January 2000. 70. J.A.A. Stockwin. 1999. Governing Japan. Malden, MA: Blackwell. p. 78. 71. Richard Bernstein and Ross H. Munro. 1997. The Coming Conflict with China. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. p.184. 72. See “Theater Missile Defense in Northeast Asia,” Chronology: 1998, Center for Nonproliferation Studies, Monterey Institute of International Studies, , and; “Theater Missile Defense in Northeast Asia,” Chronology: 1999, Center for Nonproliferation Studies, Monterey Institute of International Studies, . 73. “Sino-Japanese Summit Takes Temperature of Relationship,” Stratfor Special Report, 12 July 1999, . 74. Yoichi Funabashi. 1998. “Tokyo’s Depression Diplomacy.” Foreign Affairs 77(6): 32. 75. See Ming Zhang and Ronald N. Montaperto. 1999. A Triad of Another Kind. New York: St. Martin’s Press. pp. 44–48 for a discussion on Washington’s sensitivities with regards to Japan’s more independent role in East Asia and beyond. 76. See “Japan’s war with China, revisited,” The Economist, 6 September 1997; “Hashimoto Calms China Over Fears on U.S. Pact,” International Herald Tribune, 5 September 1997, and; “China Warns U.S. and Japan on Taiwan,” International Herald Tribune, 25 September 1997. 77. Kevin Sullivan, “Albright Heralds New Era For U.S.-Japan Alliance,” International Herald Tribune, 24 September 1997. 78. Yomiuri Shimbun, a Japanese daily newspaper, found that 73 percent of the Japanese public favored a debate on the constitution—53 percent even favored its revision. Survey data as quoted in Christopher B. Johnstone. 1999. “Strained Alliance: U.S.-Japan Diplomacy in the Asian Financial Crisis.” Survival 41(2): 123. 79. “Just Possibly, something to sing about at last,” The Economist, 18 March 2000. 80. Funabashi. 1998. p. 27. 81. Johnstone. 1999. p. 124. 82. Ibid. p. 127. 83. “Like old times,” The Economist, 9 November 1996, and; “Failing to bite the bullet train,” The Economist, 25 January 1997. 84. Stephanie Strom, “Japan, Its Recovery Stirring, Now Faces the Hard Part,” International Herald Tribune, 21 December 1999.

Chapter Seven

Addressing Old Worries

Precisely because Germany has broken the peace in the past, it is morally and ethically obliged to take part with all its strength in defending peace. We want to be present where the most important decisions on world peace are made. This has nothing to do with striving to be a great power or with the attitude that “Now we are somebody again.” Former German Foreign Minister Klaus Kinkel 1 There is . . . an abiding enigmatic quality to Japan’s role in Asia as its history, economic significance and immediate military potential point to leadership capacities that are dormant, like a volcano that could nevertheless erupt if the pressures upon it were suddenly to change. Michael Yahuda 2

THE “NEW GERMAN QUESTION”—WHAT IS IT? As both Klaus Kinkel and Michael Yahuda point out, although Germany and Japan’s allies want them, even expect them, to assume political and security postures matching their economic might in the post-Cold War era, questions and fears concerning their militaristic tendencies still exist. The uncertainties of the post-Cold War era have contributed to these fears. Those anxieties that center on Germany’s future orientation and intentions in Europe are known as the “new German question.”3 The key concern of this question is what the presence of a huge, economically powerful, sovereign and reunited German nation in the heart of Europe bodes for the rest of

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Europe and the world? Does the return of full sovereignty and reunification mean the return of Bismarck’s Reich or the pursuit of Großdeutschland?4 Such questions are further complicated by the fact that Germany was the only country in Europe to emerge from the Cold War clearly much stronger.5 The Federal Republic, moreover, has the largest population in Europe (excluding Russia) shares a border with nine European countries and holds historical ties with many other Central and East European nation-states. How this large country of around 80 million persons interacts with its eastern neighbors and addresses the security perforation left to its east from the Soviet Union’s demise (in light of the planned reduction by more than two-thirds of U.S. force levels in Europe) are equally important concerns. After the events of 1989–90 and the fall of the Berlin Wall, it became clear that partition answered the question of what to do with a Germany too strong for its neighbors’ comfort. British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher declared that a unified Germany would be “simply much too big and too powerful.”6 Similarly, French President François Mitterrand moved to obstruct German unification. “In conspicuous allusion to the Franco-Russian alliance against Germany of a century earlier,” David Schoenbaum and Elizabeth Pond write that Mitterrand “flew to Kiev within weeks of the fall of the Wall to solicit Gorbachev’s help in hindering German unification. Shortly thereafter he scheduled a visit to East Germany behind the back of his close ally Kohl and, instead of joining George Bush in allaying Polish fears about possible German border claims, fanned the Poles’ protests about Kohl’s equivocation as the chancellor maneuvered to neutralize the German far right.”7 It did not help that Kohl’s 10-Point Plan for German unification, advanced on 28 November 1989, “made no reference to German borders and thus created the impression that unification would reopen the territorial issue.”8 Flashbacks to NATO’s three functions were freely espoused, with special reference to NATO’s first Secretary-General Lord Ismay’s famous quip that one of NATO’s historic purposes was to “keep Germany down.”9 Why should this be the case; why should unification and the full reassumption of sovereignty cause Germany’s allies to fret over its future intentions? Even more generally, why is there such a thing as a “German question?” The lessons of history and the memories of war provide many of the answers to these questions and more particularly, form the basis from which presentday anxieties arise.10 Many have not forgotten that in the past when the intentions of a strong German nation were questioned the answer was world war: Imperial Germany’s policy of Weltpolitik and Nazi Germany’s policy of Lebensraum both resulted in wars that sucked the entire industrialized world into the fighting. As Elizabeth Pond points out, “Had the kind of conjecture about an overnight flip in German foreign policy been made about other, ‘normal’ countries, it might have been dismissed as an amusing fantasy. But since it addressed a nation that had

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inexplicably slid from civility to barbarity within living memory, it was taken very seriously indeed.”11 While Pond finds Germany’s slide into barbarity inexplicable, many others have not. A belief rendered eloquent by Siegfried Sassoon: “Man, it seemed, had been created to jab the life out of Germans.”12 Many have tried to discover if there is something about Germany, its national character or its geographical location, for instance, that makes its veering toward military aggression understandable and predictable. For a recent example see David Goldhagen’s work, Hitler’s Willing Executioners. Goldhagen writes, “Explaining how the Holocaust happened is a daunting task empirically and even more so theoretically, so much so that some have argued, in my view erroneously, that it is ‘inexplicable.’ ”13 Various other postwar scholars have considered what combination of factors produces war for the European continent. Several asserted that it was the German people’s political culture, their propensity to want to follow a Sonderweg or the pursuit of a uniquely German path between capitalism and socialism, that ultimately caused Germans to seek to dominate other peoples. In support of such ideas, Gabriel Almond and Sidney Verba conducted a study that found that Germany’s political culture was not supportive of constitutionalism or of key democratic institutions such as multiparty politics and free speech.14 Almond and Verba also discovered that support for a single-party state remained high in postwar Germany and that positive attitudes toward some aspects of National Socialism were evident during the 1950s. Opinion polls carried out from 1946 to the early 1950s supported Almond and Verba’s findings: one half to two thirds of adult respondents to opinion polls taken in the American Zone labeled national socialism “a good idea badly carried out.”15 Other later studies buttressed Almond and Verba’s research, for example, by arguing that prior to the 1970s, the legitimacy of German democracy was “performance based,” resting on the continuing vitality of the economy and not on any strong belief in democratic values. Other postwar researchers focused on German character and mentality as the key to explaining why the “German question” always resulted in war.16 Such studies found that Germany behaved passively during the Cold War only because it was not free to behave according to its nature, which is to behave aggressively. The antiforeigner demonstrations and the atrocities that shook the country soon after unification plus Bonn’s slow move to take punitive action against the perpetrators of these acts, support this view.17 Recent studies that question the postwar notions that the average German soldier was actually an honorable man who was a coerced and corrupted pawn of the Nazis or that ordinary hardworking German citizens were totally unaware that a Holocaust was taking place in the Fatherland as well as in occupied territory also hint at a national character and mentality that thrive on aggression.18 Jacob Heilbrunn’s 1996 article in

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Foreign Affairs on Germany’s new intellectual right also supports the contention that German mentality is naturally aggressive and xenophobic. Heilbrunn identifies a profound change to the right taking place among some of Germany’s best-known novelists, political personalities, journalists and other well-known persons.19 Underlying this new right’s position, argues Heilbrunn, “is a deep hatred of the westernization of Germany under the influence of the United States over the last five decades.” The new right views the Bonn republic as the real historical detour in Germany’s history, not the Nazi era, which they view in a much kinder light. Some of the tenets and beliefs touted by this group emerge from the so-called “historians’ debate” of the late 1980s. Various historians at that time argued that the Holocaust was not unique in history but rather one among a number of horrific historical events; indeed, Lenin’s Red Terror preceded it and Stalin’s crimes were actually much worse than the Holocaust.20 Similarly, they asserted that Stalin was actually responsible for starting the Second World War, not Hitler, because Nazism was merely a defensive reaction to Soviet tyranny. Although their proclaimed aims were to give Germans back a sense of historical identity unsplintered by Auschwitz, their method was certainly unsettling. However, what is more disturbing is Heilbrunn’s assertion that the FDP is beset with some of these powerful and influential new right advocates. He contends that a new right faction within the FDP is seeking to transform the party into a far-right, nationalist party in the same manner that Jörg Haider was able to transform the liberal party in Austria to the Austria Freedom Party in the mid-1980s.21 Rather than finding the impetus for past German aggressiveness in mentality, political culture or in a propensity to follow a Sonderweg, some scholars argue that Germans were aggressive in the past because they found themselves in the Mittellage—in the middle of Europe, surrounded by strong neighbors while at the same time having no natural physical barriers to stop their neighbors’ possible invasion. According to such views, it is geographic determinism that compelled Germany to be offensive, to expand its zones of influence and to try to set up buffer areas alongside its strong neighbors. The argument follows, as Germany’s geographic situation is largely unchanged, it is possible that Germany will revert to an offensive security stance. Moreover, the main geographical questions that surfaced after 1919, such as boundary disputes, questions of self-determination and national identity—were frozen in the Cold War bloc system. With its demise these old conflicts might well reemerge. One must consider German revanchism. The two world wars resulted in a loss of more than 40 percent of Germany’s pre-1914 territory. Poland alone has 104,000 square kilometers—fully one third of Poland’s territory today—of former German land. Moreover, 13.8 million Germans were expelled from this lost territory and needed to be settled inside Germany’s truncated boundaries. Stephen Van Evera writes, “Germans who forget that German

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conduct was the main cause of [Germany’s] mutilation would begin blaming others, and could develop an extreme sense of grievance. The potential danger is even larger than in 1914 and 1939, since Germany was whole in 1914, and had less ‘lost’ territory in 1939 than it has now.”22 Some of the forgetfulness of who ultimately caused war damages was evident in fierce bickering between Bonn and the Czech Republic over the Sudeten Germans and who should be held responsible for their suffering and losses.23 Commemorations of the fiftieth anniversary of the end of the Second World War reinforced neighbors’ worries of a revanchist Germany. For example, an 8 May 1995 declaration, signed by more than 200 persons, who included a former prosecutor-general and prominent conservative politicians, challenged the “politically correct” stance that Germany should celebrate the end of the war as a “liberation” since the date also represented the defeat of Germany in war, the start of the “terror” endured by Germans expelled from their lands and the Soviet-led occupation of what is pointedly called Mitteldeutschland.24 Neorealists and structural realists looked beyond Germany’s mentality and political culture and its geographic situation to find the seeds of German aggression in the balance of power in Europe. For proponents of this idea the German question dates back to the formation of the modern system of nation-states in Europe, or after the Treaty of Westphalia. The crucial permissive condition that allowed war in Europe the last two times was the imbalance of power among the major nation-states in Europe’s multipolar system.25 As Germany is once again a European “great power” that finds itself in the uncomfortable position of being in the Mittellage, it may once again attempt to dominate the region around it for safety’s sake. It was the inability of German statesmen to manage the challenges of being in the Mittellage that led it to adopt a strategic orientation that produced two world wars. Scholars and politicians alike pointed to unilateral action in the Yugoslav crisis as evidence that Germany intended to build a great power domain in Europe.26 Criticism was especially strong in Paris, where officials claimed a “Teutonic bloc” was emerging to support its old Habsburg allies, Croatia and Serbia.27 General Pierre Gallois, a respected French military figure, wrote in Le Monde of a drift toward “une prédominance allemande,” that Europe was heading toward a German predominance in which Bonn was enlisting the help of both the Vatican and Turkey, had won the approval of the United States and had taken advantage of the misplaced good will of a subservient EC.28 Further concerns were raised about a vast German political and/or economic zone developing in Central and Eastern Europe. Some pointed to the fact that German companies and banks were investing more in the former communist East than any other European state. With such a zone of influence in mind, some Germany-watchers speculated that the Bundestag’s decision to move the German capital back to Berlin was intended to move Germany’s entire center of gravity eastward.29

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POSSIBLE UNREST IN EUROPE Whatever the specific line of reasoning, it is plain to see that anxieties pertaining to a powerful Germany are real. European countries never again want to be exposed to a German invasion while the rest of the world never again wants to fight a German war machine. One should nevertheless ask how well grounded such fears are. What are the possibilities that conflict could break out in today’s multipolar Europe? In fact, there are many factors that limit the probability of new conflict. For example, past wars of this century grew mainly from military catalysts and domestic conditions that are largely gone.30 The economic shift from extraction-based economies to knowledge-based forms of production reduces the likelihood of even small skirmishes in Western Europe. High-tech economies depend on free access to markets and technical and social information. Moreover, in Western Europe’s case, the EU member states have already achieved a degree of integration that makes them highly dependent on each other.31 Other domestic changes contribute to the lower probability of new conflict, the most significant being the waning of militarism connected to hypernationalism. After social barriers between the military establishment and civilian society began to break down in the postwar era, officers became more integrated in civilian society. The officer corps was no longer associated with an upper-class preserve but rather represented a wider cross-section of European societies.32 Today, this democratization of the military is most evident in Germany where concern has swung to the other end of the spectrum as young men are increasingly choosing to apply for conscientious objector status rather than be conscripted into the Bundeswehr. The number of those who applied to avoid military service in Germany increased by over 50,000 from 1990 to 1993 (60,000 applied in 1990 and 111,000 did so in 1993).33 The spread of democracy in Europe itself has acted as an important pacifying component. The explosion in research devoted to democracy versus war-proneness theory is a reflection of both the increase in the number of democracies and the stability realized in Europe in this century.34 If it is the nature of the form of democratic governments that prevents them from fighting each other, then it would seem that the chances for conflict in Europe have decreased. Indeed, for the first time in its history Germany is surrounded only by democracies. IS GERMANY BY NATURE AGGRESSIVE? But what about the emergence of war in Europe specifically linked to Germany? To begin with, Germany’s transformation—its social leveling process and its democratization—was certainly no less complete than the conversions that took place in other countries in Europe and actually in some ways it was much more dramatic. For example, unlike France, which

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has a specially trained elite to carry out the functions of government, Germany’s political leaders take their values and orientations from a newly prosperous middle class. A similar elite exists in Great Britain based on “public school” and Oxbridge networks.35 Additionally, the Federal Republic is not only a democracy, but it has a significantly more decentralized government than other European states. For instance, Great Britain’s government is concentrated in London, while France has Paris. But Germany is a federated republic with considerable power devolved to the Länder, to the Federal Constitutional Court in Karlsruhe and to institutions outside of Germany, such as the European Parliament. This decentralization does not always make for clear foreign policy formulation, but as Simon Duke argues, it does safeguard “against the highly centralized and ultimately destructive foreign policy witnessed during the interwar years.”36 Although democracy today in Germany may not be perfect, it nevertheless looks strong enough to prevent any return to militarism, fascism or nationalistic authoritarianism.37 The most recent transfer of power, from the Kohl government to the new center-left coalition, certainly supports the idea that German democracy is mature, is firmly legitimate in society and is not in danger of being toppled. Moreover, the Federal Republic has more than four decades of democratic constitutionalism, much longer than that experienced by the Weimar Republic. Concern about the readiness of new and younger participants in the democratic process is unfounded. Arguments that focused on the rise of xenophobia in Germany and linked it to a flawed German mentality do not adequately consider the overall societal changes democratization yielded in Germany. While the growing number of young men joining neo-Nazi groups is worrisome, the fact that such groups exist in Germany should not raise undue alarm in Germany’s neighboring countries. Many, including Ignatz Bubis, former chairman of the Central Council of Jews in Germany, argue that at least the level of anti-Semitism and xenophobia in Germany is not higher than in other countries.38 Additionally, “Great multitudes of Germans—the very kind of people who kept quiet under the Nazis—[took] to the streets in protest against xenophobic violence and desecration.”39 The far-right violence, in fact, shocked the conscience of many Germans who, in turn, pushed Bonn to step up police surveillance and to condemn attacks on foreigners and their property. Despite the outrages that Human Rights Watch/Helsinki outlines in its study of Germany, it concludes that “although the amount and intensity of anti-foreigner violence in Germany is substantial and very troubling, the number of private citizens in Germany actively engaged in supporting foreigners is remarkable and generally unreported.”40 Mid-1990s survey data collected by RAND supports these findings: when asked what is the “most important and urgent” task of the German government, most Germans responded that it was the need to

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contain right-wing extremism.41 Far-right fringe parties such as the Republikaner are unable to generate popular support for their pseudo-racist campaigning. Instead, the electoral success of the Greens demonstrates a widespread backing of Green ideals. In fact, many of the Green’s policies have been utilized by more right-leaning parties such as the CDU and the CSU in their bids to appeal to the German public. However, there is one area in which Germany’s xenophobic past still appears to be problematic: the former German Democratic Republic’s lack of self-examination vis-à-vis its role in Germany’s collective Nazi past. Not only did the GDR not have a state-ordained philosemitism campaign comparable to the FRG’s, which started in the early 1950s, but the GDR claimed the Communist’s heritage of resisting the Nazis as their own in toto. Thus East Germans did not seriously confront the issue of Nazi racist policies, insisting instead that all Nazis were a product of western Germany (and all ex-Nazis were found only there too).42 Mary Fulbrook additionally argues that [because] the GDR was a self-proclaimed ‘antifascist state’ . . . [t]o express rebellion against the state, people might naturally choose the symbols to which the state was most hostile. To flaunt a swastika in the GDR in the 1980s was less to hark back to Hitler than to demonstrate against Honecker. Right-wing skinheads and hooligans were a home-grown product of the GDR . . . and they were an increasing problem in the 1980s, long before anyone dreamed that the Wall might fall.43

Jacob Heilbrunn’s evidence on the emergence of a new intellectual political right is dubious. Although it would seem that both the CDU and the FDP have elements not adverse to making a coalition with the right intellectual fringe, the new right’s political future is by no means overly positive nor nearly as strong as Heilbrunn portrays it. Even Heilbrunn does not see that the new right’s leaders and outspoken well-known advocates will be able to obtain a federal level of political participation. He concludes, “To think of the new right as a new mass party . . . is a mistake. The new right is no cause for panic. It can be seen as a natural development in Germany after 1989. Perhaps the Germans need to rouse rather than suppress the demon of nationalism in order to exorcise it.”44 Heilbrunn’s Foreign Affairs article also elicited a strong condemnation and response from the Süddeutsche Zeitung‘s editorial page editor and well-known political writer Josef Joffe. Joffe points out that the man Heilbrunn portrays as the “impresario of the new right,” Rainer Zitelmann, was dismissed from his position as head of Die Welt‘s weekend culture section in early 1994 because some fifty editors at this “right-of-center” daily “signed a petition against the paper’s “slide to the right” under Zitelmann. In his summation, Joffe argues that “Heilbrunn is so utterly wrong on Germany because the old—and admittedly very compelling—theories on Germany no longer work.”45

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There are also flaws in neorealists and structural realists’ arguments on Germany’s security motives for aggressive behavior. Although Germany might continue to feel its geographic position remains indefensible, it is hard to see why a united Germany should feel particularly threatened today by its many neighbors (eastern or otherwise) as long as it has close relations with important European powers (i.e., France and the U.K.) and the United States. As previously pointed out, Germany’s neighbors are now also democracies, some stronger than others, but nevertheless being surrounded only by democracies feels less threatening than being the front-line state to a threatening bloc or for that matter bordering imperialist empires. Thus, although the geographic situation has changed little and Germany once again finds itself having more neighbors than any other European country, it is not very likely to act in a militarily or politically aggressive manner nor seek military and security independence. Neither is Germany likely to turn revanchist. Despite the fact that Germany was badly mutilated by the two world wars, “the historical causes for dispute have, by and large, been laid to rest.”46 As Simon Duke observes, “Perhaps the most spectacular example of this was the vote taken on 21 June 1990, which indicated that an overwhelming majority in both parliaments (the FRG’s and the GDR’s) would confirm in a treaty that the existing Oder-Neisse line is the ‘irrevocable’ boundary of Poland and Germany.”47 Fears that surround Germany and its future intentions do not give adequate weight to its integration within Europe. Germany enmeshed in such institutional arrangements is historically unprecedented. Both world wars were started by an autonomous and virtually isolated Germany in the center of Europe. Although its location has not changed, its feeling of isolation has dissipated. Moreover, since the early steps toward European integration in the 1950s, Germans have viewed the integrative framework as essential to their foreign affairs and the articulation of their interests. This has not changed in the post-Cold War era, as the 1994 White Paper on Defense makes clear: “Germany has learned the lessons of history and will thus continue to pursue a policy of active integration and broad international cooperation.”48 Speaking at a Bundeswehr Commanders’ Conference in Hamburg in November 1999, Chancellor Schröder reiterated this point: “There has been no change in the basic coordinates underlying German foreign policy, namely: our geographical location in the heart of a converging Europe; our experience with our successful integration into the community of western states; [and] our history and the lessons we have learned from it.”49 Likewise, Joschka Fischer is considered as pro-European as Kohl.50 Indeed, German desires for political and monetary union have often gone far beyond any pooling of sovereignty the French or the British are prepared to accept.51 Such commitment was evidenced during the Maastricht Treaty negotiations in 1991 and subsequently by the treaty’s ratification in the

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German parliament in December 1992: the Bundestag overwhelming ratified the treaty in a vote of 543 to 17. Simon Bulmer and William Paterson further observe that German leaders often take the lead in expanding either the power or the membership of the European community. During the chancellorships of Willy Brandt, Helmut Schmidt and Helmut Kohl Germany has been associated with major integrative initiatives: under Brandt, the relaunching of the European Communities at the Hague (1969) and moves toward the supranational regulation of social and environmental policy (1972); under Schmidt, the launching of the European Monetary System (EMS) in 1979, arguably the first German initiative which bypassed the supranational institutions themselves; under Kohl, the promotion of institutional reforms in the Single European Act (SEA), economic and monetary union (EMU), the strengthening of the common foreign and security policy (CFSP) and the development of police cooperation.52

Making the “United States of Europe” is a personal priority of Helmut Kohl in particular. In November 1996, for example, he linked his political future to the success of European integration: speaking at a European Banking Congress in Frankfurt he said, “The construction of a European house is a vital issue. My political fate is associated with it.”53 German Foreign Minister Hans-Dietrich Genscher has also stressed the Federal Republic’s “responsibility for a peaceful order in Europe.” Addressing a conference in Potsdam in February 1990 Genscher said, “The firm linkage of our destiny to that of Europe imposes great responsibility on us Germans. Our geographical position, our history and our weight increase this responsibility still further. Living up to this responsibility is the European mission of the Germans.”54 These personal commitments by German leaders to further European integration, along with the social-leveling and the general democratization of the German population, mean that the likelihood that today’s Germany will exhibit aggression on par with its Second World War behavior is extremely low, if not an impossibility. IS GERMANY MOVING TOWARD MITTELEUROPA? The new German question includes concern that Germany is moving toward building a new concept of Mitteleuropa.55 Specifically, fears were raised that Germany would turn its back on Western Europe and instead develop links with its eastern neighbors. Given Germany’s historical ties this seemed only natural to many German-watchers who pointed to the fact that, even during the Cold War, Germany was the primary Western trading partner of every East European country and therefore it enjoyed a certain degree of trade privilege after these countries were opened up.56 Although it is true that the German capital is now closer to Warsaw than to Paris and today’s Germany includes some 16 million persons and five new states that were until recently firmly in the eastern mind-set, most of the

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fears about a German lurch east are overstated. Christoph Bertram observes, “The notion that Germany would opt for a special zone of influence in Eastern Europe belongs to a bygone era.”57 As he pointed out in the spring of 1990, “The Federal Republic has had almost forty years of Western experience; it has become a Western political society.”58 However, the Federal Republic does feel it has a role in Central and Eastern Europe. It wants to bring its eastern neighbors into the EU fold. In this task the FRG refers to itself as the Central European’s “tutor,” or “advocate.”59 One should consider Germany’s alternatives to such a course: a policy that turned its back on its eastern border might have dire consequences for the region’s stability. As a result, Germany has provided roughly half of all G-7 aid to the former Soviet countries, even while it realized high public-sector deficits as a result of its formula to pay for unification. Beyond encouraging economic steadiness on its eastern border, Germany is also a strong advocate for political stability, the importance of which was underlined by the exposed fragility of eastern governments such as Albania. Germany is aware that if the fledgling democracies of Central and Eastern Europe fail, and living conditions worsen there, as they did in Albania, Germany could expect an influx of refugees like the one Italy received in the Albanian crisis. Finally, Germany has taken the initiative on insuring that Eastern and Central Europe is militarily secure. Volker Rühe, Germany’s former defense minister, was a strong advocate (he was also the first) of bringing Central and Eastern countries into Western security frameworks.60 Although Germany will certainly push for enlarging the EU eastward, it will not move away from European integration itself. Moreover, Germany’s “bringing in the East” will be undertaken within the EU and NATO frameworks, not as a specific unilateral German policy. Germany will work through the EU and NATO structures partly because its attempts to deal with Eastern and Central Europe alone have not been wholly positive. Indeed, Bonn’s actions in the beginning of the Yugoslav conflict, namely, its early unilateral recognition of Croatia and Slovenia, were a foreign policy debacle. Critics in both Europe and the United States interpreted Germany’s actions as evidence that it wanted to build a great power domain in Europe—a domain that included its old Habsburg allies, even old fascist ones.61

WILL GERMANY RENATIONALIZE? The Federal Republic’s shift away from the Atlantic Alliance and away from multilateralism right after the peaceful revolutions in the former East bloc, as well as Germany’s increasing involvement during that time in Central and Eastern Europe, caused some alarm among the FRG’s Western allies. In truth, Germany is unlikely to renationalize or move away from

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European or Atlantic military institutions. Indeed, the Federal Republic made the integration of a united Germany into the European Community and the Atlantic Alliance a prerequisite for unification. At that time, Germans also made a concerted effort to enhance the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe.62 Perhaps most important, Germany is not capable of reacting to military challenges on its own. Current German schemes of arms procurement, the burden of unification and the lack of German reconnaissance, C3I and airlift capabilities all make it necessary for Germany to insure its own security through partner support. In his speech to Bundeswehr Commanders, Schröder emphasized this point: “No country can pursue its own interests at the expense of others for any length of time. No government, no group of governments, can tackle, let alone resolve, today’s new security risks on its own.”63 Finally, Germany is fully aware that multinational structures are essential in preventing the renationalization of its defense policies, something it does not want any more than other West European countries. The German 1992 Defense Policy Guidelines specifically advocate, in the defense policy principles section, the further formulation of multilateral collective defense structures “in order to forestall the renationalization of defense policies in Europe.”64 Schröder echoes this creed: “Our espousal of viable, multilateral structures in the EU, NATO, OSCE and the United Nations is founded on the insight that such structures are the best safeguard against unilateralism and hegemonial aspirations.”65 As previously noted, all political parties in Germany are in agreement on the importance of stressing multilateral foreign affairs. Karsten Voigt (SPD foreign policy spokesperson) argues, “The interests and requirements which determine German foreign policy . . . must be openly discussed . . . [which] essentially means that German policy makers themselves . . . identify multilateral policy as a response to the challenge of globalization and thus a fundamental orientation for Germany’s foreign policy.”66 Defense Minister Rühe and Foreign Minister Kinkel both publicly pushed for the development of one transatlantic and pan-European network of collective security involving not only NATO but the WEU and the OSCE. They further argued that the development of a Common Foreign and Security Policy should be a European policy priority. In general, the development of a coherent CFSP within the EU is a principal goal of Germany’s European policy.

ARE GERMANS “NORMAL” CITIZENS? What is normal in this context? Most all former West Germans, and Westerners in general for that matter, and many former East Germans would agree that the division of Germany and the limitations put on the Federal Republic’s sovereignty during the Cold War years was abnormal.

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But to conclude now, after sovereignty is restored and the German nation is again whole, that Germans can conduct their state relations as “normal” citizens does not conveniently follow. As Timothy Garton Ash points out in his acclaimed book In Europe’s Name, the Germans do not know themselves what they mean when they express the desire that they want to be “normal.” Would Germany be normal if it had a large beautiful important city as a capital that could instill patriotism in its citizenry? With the capital in Berlin, do Germans now feel normal? Would the FRG feel normal if it possessed nuclear weapons? Or would normality be attained if Germans just acted on the international system level like the French or the British?67 Perhaps all that is needed to feel normal is to stress that it was the old generation that is responsible for the atrocities of the Second World War, allowing Germans today to finally walk out of Hitler’s shadow. In the early 1980s the right-wing Christian Democrat Alfred Dregger argued that coming out from Hitler’s shadow meant normality for Germany. Roger Boyes and William Horsley argue that such a movement toward claiming German normalcy has indeed been taking place in Germany since unification. This movement not only calls for an end to stressing German culpability for World War II, but depicts ordinary Germans as victims of the war. Boyes and Horsley further speculate on what they view as the transformation in German self-assessment, finding a steady change in the German attitude toward its collective guilt since Kohl’s rise to power. “After he came to power in 1982,” Boyes and Horsley write, [Kohl] set out to realize his intention to turn Germany into a “normal” country, by which he meant a trusted, respected and equal partner of the Western allies.”68 Still, one should keep in mind that Kohl’s desire to rush this sense of normalcy led him down some sticky paths. Take the 1985 Bitburg debacle, for example. In this incident Kohl invited U.S. President Ronald Reagan to join him in a military ceremony at a soldier’s cemetery in Bitburg. Jürgen Habermas relates, “The ceremony was to enact a peculiar kind of historical reconciliation. The American president was supposed not just to endorse the German-American friendship, which was stable in any case; more importantly, he was expected to exculpate and officially rehabilitate a former enemy and present ally, so that for us Germans the present would be definitively unburdened of liabilities of a criminal past.”69 The event was a failure because although it was discovered that former members of the Waffen-SS were also buried in the Bitburg cemetery, the ceremony was not canceled. Germans, instead of feeling unburdened by the event, “were not pleased by the transparent maneuver of cleansing the collective identity through the ritualized repression of bad memories.”70 It would appear that exactly what is meant by normal German state relations and who are normal German citizens are complicated notions. Intuitively, however, one acknowledges that for Germans to feel normal something more than acquiring a new weapon or moving a capital, or

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mimicking the acceptable foreign behavior of other states, or even trying to forget the past, needs to transpire. Whatever the many ideas of normalcy may reflect, it is certain that what it means to be normal for Germans is directly tied to Germany’s future political and security role in Europe. What sort of power will Germany be in the post-Cold War era? Will it follow a Sonderweg or will it continue its Cold War policy of economic giantism and politico-military dwarfism? Might Germany assume greater responsibilities in the maintenance of international stability, an assumption of a role commensurate with its economic might? Certainly the latter would seem to be a positive—even a normal—step for the Federal Republic in the post-Cold War era. As previous chapters illustrate, assuming this role is an ongoing process that must take into consideration a plethora of inputs and elements in both the internal and external environment. It is also a process that at times looks a bit crazy to Germany’s allies, neighbors and even itself. NOTES 1. As quoted in Richard Murphy, “Germany plays down ‘world policeman’ role,” Reuter News Service, Western Europe, 22 July 1994. 2. Michael Yahuda. 1996. The International Politics of the Asia-Pacific, 1945–1995. New York: Routledge. p. 233. 3. For a consideration of “related dimensions” to the “German Question” starting from the nineteenth century see Dirk Verheyen and Christian Søe, eds. 1993. The Germans and Their Neighbors. Boulder: Westview Press. 4. Anne-Marie LeGloannec. 1993. “France, Germany, and the New Europe.” In The Germans and Their Neighbors, ed. Dirk Verheyen and Christian Søe. Boulder: Westview Press. p. 27. 5. Robert Gerald Livingston. 1992. “United Germany: Bigger and Better.” Foreign Policy 87: 157. 6. Margaret Thatcher. 1993. The Downing Street Years. New York: Harper Collins. p. 791. 7. David Schoenbaum and Elizabeth Pond. 1996. The German Question and Other German Questions. New York: St. Martin’s Press. p. 178. 8. In March 1990, Kohl withheld the full recognition of the Oder-Neisse line as the border between the two countries arguing that recognition of borders could only legally be done after German unification when an elected Bundestag that included the eastern Länder could vote on the issue. It is speculated that Kohl hesitated on the Polish border issue because he wanted to pacify German WWII expellees. Karl Kaiser. 1990–91. “Germany’s Unification.” Foreign Affairs 70(1): 185, and; FRG documents, “A 10-point plan for overcoming the division of Europe and Germany,” Speech by FRG Chancellor Helmut Kohl in the German Bundestag, Bonn, 28 November 1989, Adam Daniel Rotfeld and Walther Stützle. 1991. Germany and Europe in Transition. SIPRI/Oxford University Press. pp. 120–123. 9. Wolfram F. Hanrieder argues that it was precisely because NATO had lost its military-strategic purpose in the immediate post-Cold War period that its polit-

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ical purpose of binding Germany to the West moved to the foreground of discussions on NATO’s future. Hanrieder. 1989. Germany, America, Europe: Forty Years of German Foreign Policy. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. p. 379. 10. Anxiety over unification was also evident within Germany. For example, the well-known writer Günter Grass protested against unification because unified Germany was the country capable of producing Auschwitz. 11. See Elizabeth Pond. 1995. “Germany Finds Its Niche as a Regional Power.” Washington Quarterly 19: 28–29, and; Schoenbaum and Pond. 1996. pp. 179–180. 12. J. M. Cohen and M. J. Cohen. 1971. A Dictionary of Modern Quotations. Harmondsworth, UK: Penguin. p. 205. 13. Daniel J. Goldhagen. 1997. Hitler’s Willing Executioners. London: Abacus. p. 5. 14. Gabriel Almond and Sidney Verba. 1963. The Civic Culture. Princeton: Princeton University Press. 15. Anna Merrit and Richard Merrit, eds. 1970. Public Opinion in Occupied Germany: the OMGUS Surveys, 1945–1949. Urbana: University of Illinois Press. Cited in Peter H. Merkl. 1993. German Unification in the European Context. University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press. p. 25. 16. See, for example, Fritz Fischer. 1967. Germany’s Aims in the First World War. New York: Norton; Fischer. 1975. The War of Illusions. New York: Norton, and; Hans-Ulrich Wehler. 1985. The German Empire 1871–1919. Dover, NH: Berg Publishers. 17. Right-wing attacks increased from 306 in 1990 to 2,639 in 1992, an increase of 862 percent. “Germany for Germans: Xenophobia and Racist Violence in Germany.” New York: Human Rights Watch/Helsinki. 1995. p. 1. 18. See, for example, Stephen Plaice, “What did you do in the war, Vater?” Guardian Weekly, 23 March 1997; Jerry Adler, “Why Did They Do It?” Newsweek, 29 April 1996, and; Goldhagen. 1997. 19. Jacob Heilbrunn. 1996. “Germany’s New Right.” Foreign Affairs 75(6): 80–98, and; Heilbrunn. 1994. “Tomorrow’s Germany.” The National Interest (summer). pp. 44–52. 20. The “historian’s debate” of the late 1980s (1986–1987) was first enunciated by the conservative historian Ernst Nolte in an article in the Frankfurter Allegemeine Zeitung entitled the “The Past That Will Not Go Away.” The main matters of discussion of the debate were: the issue of the Holocaust’s uniqueness or singularity; the desirability of “normalizing” German citizens, and; the issue of historization (Historisierung), or whether a past will become more neutralized in its moral charge the more it is viewed through the objectivizing lens of historical research. See Jürgen Habermas. 1996. “On How Postwar Germany Has Faced Its Recent Past.” Common Knowledge 5(2): 1–13, and; Ian Buruma. 1995. The Wages of Guilt. New York: Meridian. p. 186. 21. Jörg Haider has been called the modern ideal of “Hitler’s grandson.” His party captured 28 percent of the Austrian vote in European Parliament elections in October 1996. In October 1998, his party garnered 27 percent of the general election in Austria, making Haider’s party the most successful far-right party in Europe.

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22. Stephen Van Evera. 1991. “Primed for Peace: Europe After the Cold War.” In The Cold War and After, ed. Sean M. Lynn-Jones. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. p. 228. 23. Senior CSU politicians, such as Theo Waigel and Edmund Stoiber, attacked the government in Prague in June 1996 over the postwar expulsion of millions of ethnic Germans. The former Czech Prime Minister Vaclav Klause responded that Czechs do not need lessons on democracy from the Germans. 24. Roger Boyes and William Horsley. 1995.“The Germans as Victims: A British View.” The World Today 51(6): 114. 25. John J. Mearsheimer. 1991. “Back to the Future: Instability in Europe After the Cold War.” In The Cold War and After, ed. Sean M. Lynn-Jones. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. p. 148. 26. Peter Viggo Jakobsen. 1995. “Myth-making and Germany’s Unilateral Recognition of Croatia and Slovenia.” European Security 4(3): 400–416. 27. Josef Joffe. 1993. “The New Europe: Yesterday’s Ghosts.” Foreign Affairs 71(1): 32. 28. General Pierre Gallois,”Vers une prédominance allemande,” Le Monde, 16 July 1993. As cited in Wolfgang Krieger. 1993. “Toward a Gaullist Germany?” World Policy Journal (spring). p. 26. The UK’s Daily Express wrote that current German financial and political power in the EU quite possibly will “give the Germans what the Kaiser and Hitler sought without firing a shot.” See “Beware of Kaiser Kohl,” Daily Express, 21 December 1995. 29. Alan Friedman, “Will Europe Follow The German Map? Bonn Focuses on the East,” International Herald Tribune, 7 December 1995. 30. Van Evera. 1991. p. 195. 31. For a critique on the role of economic interdependence and the promotion of peace in Europe see Mearsheimer 1991, and; Mearsheimer. 1990. “Back to the Future.” International Security 15(1): 5–56. 32. Van Evera. 1991. p. 207. 33. “Mind my tank,” The Economist, 6 July 1996. 34. See, for example, Steve Chan. 1984. “Mirror Mirror on the Wall . . . Are the Freer Countries More Pacific?” Journal of Conflict Resolution 28(4): 617–648; Michael Doyle. 1983. “Kant, Liberal Legacies, and Foreign Affairs,” Parts 1 and 2, Philosophy and Public Affairs 12, (3,4): 205–235, 325–353, and; Doyle. 1986. “Liberalism and World Politics.” American Political Science Review 80(4): 1151–1169. 35. Jochen Thies and Deborah Lucas Schneider. 1994. “Observations on the Political Class in Germany.” Daedalus 123(1): 263–264. 36. Simon Duke. 1994. “Germanizing Europe: Europeanizing Germany?” Security Dialogue 25(4): 427. 37. Hanns W. Maull. 1990–91. “Germany and Japan: The New Civilian Powers.” Foreign Affairs 69(5): 94. See also Peter J. Katzenstein. 1987. Policy and Politics in West Germany: The Growth of a Semi-Sovereign State. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, and; Josef Joffe, “Reunification II: This Time No Hobnail Boots,” New York Times, September 1990. 38. Gottfried Linn. 1993. “New Tasks for the Bundeswehr.” German Comments 30: 4–9. 39. Steven Muller. 1994. “Democracy in Germany.” Daedalus 123(1): 48. 40. Human Rights Watch/Helsinki. 1995. p. 78.

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41. Ronald D. Asmus. 1995b. Germany’s Geopolitical Maturation: Public Opinion and Security Policy in 1994. Santa Monica: Rand. p. 5. 42. Ian Buruma points out in his book on war memories in Germany that, “Atrocities and genocide are less in evidence in [GDR] textbooks than the heroism of Soviet liberators and Communist rebels. The children of the GDR were not asked to atone for or reflect on the crimes committed by their parents or grandparents [like children in the FRG].” See Buruma. 1995. p. 182. See also Schoenbaum and Pond. 1996. p. 158. 43. Mary Fulbrook. 1994. “Aspects of Society and Identity in the New Germany.” Daedalus 123(1): 228–229. See also David M. Keithly who argues that the tightly controlled GDR youth groups found themselves in a meaningless vacuum after the fall of East Germany and that many of the members of these groups turned to neo-Nazi, right-wing groups out of boredom, loneliness and a lack of opportunity in a lackluster economy. David M. Keithly. 1994. “Shadows of Germany’s Authoritarian Past.” Orbis (spring). pp. 207–223. 44. Heilbrunn. 1996. p. 97. 45. Josef Joffe et al. 1997. “Mr. Heilbrunn’s Planet.” Foreign Affairs 76(2): 152–157. 46. Simon Duke. 1994b. The New European Security Disorder. New York: St. Martin’s. p. 137. 47. Ibid. 48. German White Paper 1994, White Paper on the Security of the Federal Republic of Germany and the Situation and Future of the Bundeswehr. The Federal Minister of Defense, The Federal Republic of Germany. p. 40. 49. Speech given by Chancellor Gerhard Schröder at the 37th Bundeswehr Commanders’ Conference in Hamburg in November 1999, Press release, 3 December 1999, German Federal Foreign Office, Berlin. 50. “Germany’s shocking Green,” The Economist, 8 June 1996. 51. Elizabeth Pond. 1992. “Germany in the New Europe.” Foreign Affairs 71(2): 116. 52. Simon Bulmer and William E. Paterson. 1996. “Germany in the European Union: gentle giant or emergent leader?” International Affairs 72(1): 10. 53. Ralph Atkins and Andrew Fisher, “Kohl links his political fate to a united Europe,” Financial Times, 23, 24 November 1996. Kohl again linked his “political existence” to greater European integration issues in June of 1997, this time to the punctual start of the euro on 1 January 1999. See “Euro-division,” The Economist, 14 June 1997. Kohl also wrote in his memoir I Wanted Germany’s Unity that his next grand objective is European unification. 54. Address by Hans-Dietrich Genscher, Minister for Foreign Affairs of the Federal Republic of Germany, the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI)—Institut für Internationale Politik und Wirtschaft der DDR jointly organized Potsdam Conference, 8–10 February 1990. See Adam Daniel Rotfeld and Walther Stützle. 1991. Germany and Europe in Transition. SIPRI/Oxford University Press. p. 20. 55. The term and idea Mitteleuropa originates from the 1915 book by Friedrich Naumann entitled Mitteleuropa. For an in-depth analysis of the concept of Mitteleuropa see Jörg Brechtefeld. 1996. Mitteleuropa and German Politics: 1848 to the Present. New York: St. Martin’s.

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56. Karl Kaiser. 1992. “Patterns of Partnership.” In From Occupation to Cooperation: The United States and United Germany in a Changing World Order, ed. Steven Muller and Gebhard Schweigler. New York: Norton. p. 151. 57. Christoph Bertram. 1998. “Germany Moves On.” Foreign Affairs 77(4): 190. 58. Christoph Bertram. 1990. “The German Question.” Foreign Affairs 69(2): 51. 59. “Survey of Central Europe: The Return of the Habsburgs.” The Economist, 18 November 1995. 60. In a speech to the Bundestag Rühe said, “The opening of the Alliance to the East is in our vital interests. One does not have to be a strategic genius to understand this. I have often been surprised how little our debate on this issue has been guided by a clear analysis of German interests. A border of stability and security—unstable east of us but stable here, prosperity this side of the border, poverty on the other—such a situation is not sustainable in the long run. It is for this reason that Germany’s eastern border cannot be the eastern border of NATO and the European Union. Either we will export stability or we will end up importing instability.” See Rühe’s speech quoted in Asmus. 1995a. Germany’s Contribution to Peacekeeping: Issues and Outlook. Santa Monica: Rand. p. 10. See also Schoenbaum and Pond. 1996. p. 205. 61. Although it is true that Slovenia and Croatia traditionally have had German-speaking elites, that politically well-connected Croats form the largest group of former Yugoslavs living in Germany and that most of the millions of German tourists who have visited Yugoslavia have been to Croatia and Slovenia, it is also true that Bonn did not approve of the escalation of tensions in the region led by the former Croatian leader Franjo Tudjman or of the serious outbreak of fighting that resulted from early recognition. Prior to the outbreak of fighting in Slovenia (in late June 1991) German policy promoted territorial integrity for Yugoslavia. It was feared that disintegration of the Yugoslav Republic would release a flood of refugees (which it eventually did) and would disrupt valuable economic ties. Those who changed their minds about the merits of recognition in the Bundestag and the Bundesrat (all sixteen Länder appealed for recognition) did so in part because they genuinely believed it would deter Serbian forces from expanding the conflict and that the international community could exert pressure to end the hostilities. Bonn began pushing for recognition in July 1991. But it was not until September that Germany made public its plan for Slovene and Croat recognition. Germany’s early recognition was further motivated by popular pressure in Germany for Bonn to do something about the war and the atrocities going on in the former Yugoslavia. See Reneo Lukic and Allen Lynch. 1996. Europe from the Balkans to the Urals; The Disintegration of Yugoslavia and the Soviet Union. SIPRI/Oxford: Oxford University Press; Sabrina Petra Ramet. 1993. “Yugoslavia and the Two Germanys.” In The Germans and Their Neighbors, ed. Dirk Verheyen and Christian Søe. Boulder: Westview Press, and; Laura Silber and Allan Little. 1995. The Death of Yugoslavia. London: Penguin/BBC. 62. For an analysis of the importance of the CSCE/OSCE in embedding Germany in multilateral security institutions, and in general the institutionalization of German foreign and security policy, see Ingo Peters. 1997. “The OSCE and German Policy: A Study in How Institutions Matter.” Presented at the 38th Annual Convention of the International Studies Association, Toronto.

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63. Speech by Schröder at the 37th Bundeswehr Commanders’ Conference in Hamburg, November 1999. 64. See Verteidigungspolitische Richtlinien, November 1992, point 28, pp. 17, 18. As cited in Thomas-Durell Young. 1994. “Trends in German Defense Policy: The Defense Policy Guidelines and the Centralization of Operational Control.” Strategic Studies Institute Publications. Carlisle, PA: U.S. Army War College. p. 8. 65. Speech by Schröder at the 37th Bundeswehr Commanders’ Conference in Hamburg, November 1999. 66. Karsten Voigt. 1996. “German Interest in Multilateralism.” Aussenpolitik 47(2): 108. 67. Peter Schmidt finds that the Bonn government believed that by working hand in hand with the French in the post-Cold War era, Germans over time would begin to see that what is normal for the French is also normal for Germans. Schmidt. 1993. “The Special Franco-German Security Relationship in the 1990s.” Chaillot Paper No. 9, Institute for Security Studies, Western European Union. p. 19. 68. Boyes and Horsley. 1995. p. 113. 69. Habermas. 1996. p. 7. 70. Ibid.

Chapter Eight

Japan and Regional Worries

IS THERE A NEW JAPAN QUESTION? As in Germany’s case, although Japan’s allies want it to assume more political-military burdens, when Japan does become more visible in Asia or in the area’s security dialogue, Asian leaders often caution that Japan’s actions are really a manifestation of its renewed ambitions to become the dominant regional military power. Like European anxieties, fears of a reemergence of Japanese militarism were compounded by the Cold War’s end. Without the bipolar standoff and the need for Japan to secure a partnership with the United States, a partnership that made Japan’s reemergence as an economic power more palatable, Asians worry that Japan might adopt a unilateral and more military-minded foreign policy.1 With such anxieties in mind, one can argue that a “Japan question” exists; however, the notion has not been subject to the same historical analysis as questions surrounding Germany have undergone. A lack of post-Cold War analysis of a “new Japan question” can be in part tied to the postwar dearth of study, but it also is the result of dramatic changes that took place on the European continent after the Cold War that did not take place with the same vitality in Asia. As was discussed in chapter 6, when the Cold War collapsed and the Soviet Union disappeared, the communist bloc in Central and Eastern Europe disintegrated and Germany was united. Unification was an act that increased Germany’s size and population (and thus power) overnight. However, in the Asia-Pacific region the collapse of the Soviet Union was not accompanied by the end of key communist regimes, and as a

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result, an element of the Cold War still persists. Despite their differing environments at the Cold War’s end, one can argue, based on the excess of misgivings about Japan’s future intentions, that some form of a “new Japan question” can be identified. Thus, there is merit in asking whether Japan should assume politico-military roles more commensurate with its economic might. Distrust in Japan is firstly and primarily rooted in the painful memories of World War Two that still pervade the Asia-Pacific. It is made worse by Japan’s apparent reluctance to take responsibility for its actions during the war. This absence of culpability, in turn, makes neighbors suspicious that Japan has not really cast off its prewar militarism. When it became apparent that Japan was reconsidering the use of its military for more than the defense of Japan, as the participation in UNTAC under the PKO law indicated, apprehensions and anxiety among Japan’s neighbors increased. Leaders in Asian countries began criticizing Japan in earnest for ignoring or suppressing the historical realities of such misdeeds as: comfort women; the Korean and Taiwanese men who were forced to be soldiers for the Imperial Army; the use of human guinea pigs by the Japanese Unit 731; the Filipinos who died on the Bataan Death March; the Allied prisoners who were beaten or worked to death building the bridge over the River Kwae, and; the 25 percent death rate of prisoners of war held by Japan. Others pointed to Japan’s reluctance to educate its people about its wartime history, arguing that Japanese schoolchildren were taught history through sanitized textbooks stressing that Koreans, in particular, were inferior. The use of such sanitized textbooks, it was further argued, was compounded by the fact that Japanese students still did not learn much about the war at all in school and that there was certainly nothing comparable to the explicitness of German textbooks or the sharing of historical accounts by European Ministries of Education. Ian Buruma relates his surprise upon learning how the Japanese view the Second World War: “What I heard and read was often surprising to a European: the treatment of Western POWs was hardly remembered at all . . . Bataan, the sacking of Manila, the massacres in Singapore, these were barely mentioned. But the suffering of the Japanese, in China, Manchuria, the Philippines, and especially in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, was remembered vividly, as was the imprisonment of Japanese soldiers in Siberia after the war.”2 The view that Japan has yet to come to terms with its past is further substantiated by the realization that the general Japanese attitude toward World War II is that Japan was a unique victim. The atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki are seen as the symbols of Japan’s unique suffering. As Michael Yahuda observes, “Even those Japanese who adhere most strongly to the ethos of the ‘peace constitution’ have tended to see their country as a victim of the Pacific War rather than as its vicious perpetrator.”3 The “Japan as victim” view is further reflected in many films of the

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past fifteen years portraying the wartime suffering of the Japanese people but neglecting to depict the sorrow of those who were persecuted by the Japanese.4 Japan’s opinion on reparations for atrocities committed during the Second World War further corroborates neighbors’ perceptions that Japan still has not faced its own past. The Japanese government believes that all outstanding claims were already settled with the signing of the peace treaty with the United States in 1951, as well as with other treaties signed around that time with its Asian neighbors. Although it is true that in the years between 1954 and 1959 Japan did conclude a series of reparations and agreements with countries it occupied in World War II (such as Indonesia, the Philippines, Burma, South Korea and Vietnam, while also providing grant assistance to Laos and Cambodia until 1977), it is also true that these reparations were not made to specific groups that suffered greatly during the war. Much of the financial aid was often directly transferred to Japanese firms, “which, at the request of the recipient countries, supplied them with their products as reparations.”5 More often than not Japanese foreign aid had a clearly commercial goal, making it possible for Japanese goods to be transported to new consumer markets. Japan’s reluctance to resolve grievances emanating from the war could be mended appropriately if conservative politicians within the Liberal Democratic Party allowed the government to effectively apologize and pay adequate reparations directly, for example, to comfort women and forcibly conscripted soldiers. However, many Japanese conservative MPs resist Japanese culpability. A prime example is the recently elected governor of Tokyo, the nationalist Shintaro Ishihara, whose remarks have enraged Beijing. However, it is not the nationalists but average conservative politicians who ultimately provoke Asian misgivings with their regular inflammatory statements.6 The Japanese right-wing Youth Liberal Party’s proposed New York Times full-page advertisement, claiming the raid on Pearl Harbor was not a sneak attack, that the Rape of Nanjing did not happen and that the Japanese army never forced Korean women into prostitution, is an example of a high-profile exasperating statement by nationalists.7 But what makes such high-profile disclaimers of Japanese liability for war crimes disturbing for Japan’s neighbors is that denials of responsibility are supported by a wide array of conservative politicians. As George Hicks observes in his book on comfort women, even after former comfort women started to tell their stories and after historians in Japan and South Korea dug up substantial material to back their stories, the Japanese government still denied military involvement in wartime prostitution.8 When it was admitted that crimes against humanity might have taken place, such admissions always included the disclaimer that Japan had done nothing to feel guilty about. At least it had done no worse than other powerful nations. The assertion that the rape of Nanking was no different

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from the British massacre of Indian protesters at Amritsar is a popular repudiation.9 Why should Japan atone for colonial sins when other Western countries never properly atoned for their own colonial offenses?10 In a book written with the grand title Modern Japan’s Foreign Policy, Morinosuke Kajima, former chairman of the LDP’s Foreign Relations Research Committee and also former chairman of the Foreign Affairs Committee in the Upper House of the Japanese Parliament, makes a similar argument. Kajima writes, “If one objectively studies prewar, wartime, and postwar records of World War II, one may find a number of acts of the Russians, Americans, British, and their allies which should have been condemned—more or less in a similar manner to those condemned at the Nuremberg and Tokyo trials.”11 Kajima also compares the Tokyo trials and the guilt he says they conferred solely on Japan for the war, to the Versailles Treaty’s Article 231, which forced the German population as a whole to accept sole guilt for the First World War. Kajima argues, “Germany devoted her entire national effort in refuting the clause. A review of how she did so is certainly useful for Japan and her allies to refute the Tokyo trial which held Japan and her allies solely guilty of starting the war.”12 No mention is made of the fact that Germany’s refutation of Versailles helped it along the path into fascism. Several other high-ranking members of the LDP are often quoted for similar statements. Former Foreign Minister Michio Watanabe argued at a LDP party meeting that Japan’s rule of Korea from 1910 to 1945 was “peacefully” negotiated with the Korean government of the day.13 Education Minister Yoshinobu Shimamura is quoted as saying, “In an era when most people know nothing about the war, is it really right to keep bringing up the past and apologizing in detail?” Concerning the question of whether Japan started a war of aggression or not, Shimamura said that it “is a matter of point of view. . . . Aren’t all wars aggressive fights?”14 Such statements are especially worrying from an education minister who presumably is in charge of seeing that most people know their own history based on evidence, not mere points of view. Former Prime Minister Ryutaro Hashimoto also holds a mitigating opinion concerning Japan’s role in the war. While he was head of MITI he led a rally opposing the war apolgy resolution and portrayed the war as “a celebration of Asian nations’ symbiosis.”15 As prime minister, Hashimoto visited the controversial Yasukuni shrine in Tokyo to pay homage to Japan’s military heroes.16 A final example of the way Japanese politicians generally refuse blame for actions in World War II is the controversy over how the Japanese Diet should mark the fiftieth anniversary of the end of the war. In March 1995, more than 200 LDP members rallied to not apologize for any acts in World War II or for the prewar colonialization of the Korean peninsula. When in June 1995 the socialist Tomiichi Murayama attempted to pass a formal apology his government almost collapsed. Liberal Democrats within his

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ruling coalition argued instead that the war years were Japan’s heroic attempt to liberate a continent from the aggressions of the United States and Great Britain. On 5 July 1995, sixty-two nationalists even made a claim in a Japanese court for damages from the government for the supposed mental suffering they underwent as a result of discussing the parliamentary resolution to apologize for Japanese actions during the war.17 The resolution that eventually passed did not contain an apology, and it mitigated and trivialized Japan’s conduct by placing it in the context of the excesses of colonial rule and among the “acts of aggression in the modern history of the world.”18 This is markedly different from German government statements that clearly express German remorse for the war crimes that prewar and wartime Germans committed. Bonn also followed its war apology statements with a policy of atonement with its Western allies. In the 1970s, through Brandt’s policy of Ostpolitik, atonement was further extended to Bonn’s eastern adversaries. But Japanese conservatives did not stop at watering down the war apology resolution. In fact, they successfully pressured the ruling coalition to announce that the August fifteenth commemorations of the surrender of Japan and the end of the Second World War would not take place at all. Instead, the weeks leading up to the surrender date would be marked by visitations by the Japanese emperor and his wife to four sites in Japan (Nagasaki, Hiroshima, Okinawa and Sumida) where the suffering of the Japanese was “immense.” The second main reason why a Japan question is regularly put forward in the post-Cold War era, is the emergence of a new wave of Japanese nationalism and ultraconservativism. This new nationalism is no longer confined to extremist groups nor seems to be hindered by a pacifist public. Although recent estimates argue that there are only some 100,000 right-wing nationalists in Japan, their largely unchecked rhetoric and actions, such as building a lighthouse on a disputed island in the East China Sea, mean that Japan’s neighbors perceive that what the nationalists say publicly is what many Japanese believe privately.19 Consider the success of Ishihara’s internationally received book, The Japan That Can Say No. It is a nationalistic tract espousing that racial prejudices are truly behind the trade frictions between the United States and Japan.20 Consider also, albeit on a smaller level, the success that Yuko Tojo has had with her rehabilitation campaign. Ms. Tojo is attempting to revise the wartime role of her grandfather General Hideki Tojo, Japan’s wartime Prime Minister and the man behind the orders to attack Pearl Harbor. She is finding noteworthy success within the greater revisionist movement that supports her nationalist views.21 The nationalists of the 1990s further argue that the world does not sufficiently appreciate Japan’s uniqueness or the superior model of social organization that Japan has to offer.22 Much of this new nationalism stresses the success of Japanese society and culture before the introduction of Western versions of them.

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A final fear concerning the Japan question is related to Japan’s military potential. Japan is widely regarded within the region as possessing the technological capabilities to transform itself rapidly into a major strategic power. Critics point to Japan’s overall arms production capability and its advanced-technology industrial sector that can produce the complicated dual-use electronics used in today’s weapons systems.23 As Paul Dibb observes, “Japan has enormous military potential based on its economic wealth, industrial base and technological prowess. It will proceed to develop formidable modern conventional military capabilities for its own defense and it will probably acquire a theatre missile defense system capable of handling limited missile threats from North Korea or China. Japan will have the region’s most modern military forces.”24 Substantiating this observation is the fact that today only the United States spends more on its military than Japan.25 The 1995–96 fiscal year budgeted $47 billion for defense, which is at least two times China’s military expenditure.26 Some members of the U.S. military, like the former commander of the U.S. Marine Corps in Japan, Major General Henry Stockpole, have indicated that, in part, Washington’s desire to maintain a strong presence in Asia, and in Japan particularly, emerges out of the fact that the United States wants to “contain” Japan’s potential military power.

ASSESSING THE FEARS Although there is ample evidence of an unwillingness to accept responsibility for Imperial Japanese misdeeds in the Second World War, as well as an abundance of proof that Japanese nationalism and anti-Americanism are on the rise, the fears surrounding a reemergence of Japanese militarism do not take into account Japan’s current links with the region’s economies. As was the case with Germany, Japan’s national interests lie in strengthening economic relationships with its neighbors and in maintaining a free and open trade system. Moreover, Japan is specifically dependent on sea-lanes upon which travel the oil, natural and other mineral resources that its economy runs on. To protect and promote the perpetuation of friendly trade relations, Japanese leaders, even conservative ones, have sought to allay regional fears of a militaristic Japan. In fact, in the second half of the 1990s the government began to more openly apologize for wartime regional misconduct. In October 1998 Prime Minister Keizo Obuchi offered his country’s “deep remorse and heartfelt apology” to South Korea’s visiting president Kim Dae Jung.27 For their part, leaders of countries in the region that depend on Japan for their own economic growth play down concerns over Japanese militarism. For instance, in their June 1996 meeting (ostensibly to discuss preparations for the 2002 joint hosting of the World Cup soccer tournament), South Korean president Kim Young Sam and Japanese Prime Minister Hashimoto held informal talks to “clear the

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air on a number of issues that have soured relations between South Korea and Japan lately. . . . Above all, both sides agreed to discuss the future, instead of dwelling on the bitterness that has divided them in the past.”28 Despite their desire to look forward, both leaders agreed to finance a new study of Japanese and Korean history, in order to help set the historical record straight. In China’s case, although it has not indicated it will stop dwelling on the bitterness of the past, both the Japanese and the Chinese recognize that “China’s professed fear of rising Japanese militarism is something of a predictable charade, designed to put the government in Tokyo on the defensive.”29 Much of Beijing’s condemnation of Japan is intended to embarrass Tokyo into better loan agreements and possibly more development grants. Such use of wartime atrocities is further supported by the fact that the Chinese government forbade individual protests against Japan or demands for compensation for decades in order to get maximum results from its airing of Japanese wrongs. Regional fears not only dismiss growing regional interdependency, they do not adequately consider the special interdependent nature of U.S.-Japanese security relations.30 American military involvement in East Asia and the Pacific in general has a far longer history than it does in Europe. American military forces have been in the Philippines since the beginning of the 1900s. Furthermore, America’s postwar commitment to Asian security embroiled it in the Korean and Vietnam wars. Many in East Asia have come to assume that American military forces will always be in East Asia, specifically in Japan. Additionally, a majority of the Japanese public continues to support the bilateral alliance in spite of the debates on its future that were triggered by the 1995 Okinawan incident.31 Support for the bilateral alliance stems in part from the fact that many Japanese are themselves wary of a remilitarized Japan. Former Prime Minister Nakasone vocalized this belief when he stated that the Japan-U.S. Security Treaty is important in “preventing the resurgence of Japanese militarism.”32 Two other important reasons for Japan to continue its support of a security alliance with the United States are China and North Korea. Although China’s current economic growth is welcomed by Japanese businessmen, its military modernization, its maneuvers off Taiwan and its various aggressive territorial claims are all causes for extensive worry in Japan. The SDF is too small to defend Japan against an invasion by any major military power; too small to defend against a nuclear attack, and; too small to defend the sea-lanes upon which Japan depends.33 The unpredictable regime in Pyongyang is capable of lobbing chemical, biological and possibly even nuclear-tipped missiles on Japan. To deter both China and North Korea from any acts of aggression they might be, however remotely, contemplating, Japan has a continued strong interest in supporting the U.S.-Japanese security alliance. Paul Dibb also points out that Japan will remain heavily

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dependent on the United States in its drive toward military modernization and the so-called Revolution in Military Affairs (RMA).34 Conversely, a withdrawal of U.S. forces in Asia might accelerate the current arms buildup in the region.35 The specter of a power vacuum in the wake of a U.S. withdrawal means that even the Chinese have voiced a preference for a Japan locked in security arrangements with the United States; a Japan alone is much more unpredictable for the Chinese. In this context, a strong and healthy American-Japanese security relationship is viewed as “an insurance against the possibility that Japan might one day decide to become a major military power.”36 Fears concerning Japanese remilitarization or as former French Prime Minister Edith Cresson accused, that Japan was plotting to conquer the world, also do not take into account that the Japanese as a people have little interest in following a military-nationalist path like that taken in the prewar era. Defeat in the war made the Japanese people feel utterly betrayed and misled by their militarist prewar and wartime governments and consequently they embraced a strong antimilitarist government in the postwar era. Today the Japanese military remains discredited while the military’s atrocities in the war are detested. In fact, joining the Self-Defense Forces is still an undesirable career path in Japan and, as a consequence, the SDF has difficulties in recruiting. Undeniably, more and more Japanese citizens are coming to the conclusion that it is wrong to keep up the ploy that it is better not to discuss these things in Japan in the hope that they will go away, or not to teach young Japanese about the realities of the past in the hope that mortality will dissolve culpability. For example, although the Tokyo High Court ruled that the Education Ministry’s policy of screening textbooks was constitutionally sound, the Supreme Court also ruled that the Education Ministry “had abused its authority in ordering Saburo Ienaga, a historian, to rewrite part of his textbook about the second world war.”37 Ienaga wrote, among other things, that Japan established a germ-warfare unit in northeast China, conducted experiments on live persons there and that Japanese troops raped Chinese women in Nanjing in 1937. In past trials the Education Ministry’s policy that such information was not credibly corroborated by academic studies was upheld. But in two rulings (October 1993 and August 1997) the Supreme Court concluded that Mr. Ienaga need not purge his work. It should be pointed out that the use of such sanitized textbooks and the fact that Japanese students still do not learn much about the war in school or in university, can be partly explained by the fact that Japan has very few academics whose field is modern history. Japanese academics view modern history as too fluid, too political and better left to journalists. As a result, Ian Buruma points out, much of the debate on Japan’s actions in World War II is conducted outside universities “by journalists, amateur historians, political columnists, civil rights activists, and so forth. This means that the zanier theories of the likes

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of Tanaka Masaaki [a former journalist who wrote a book published in 1984 titled The Fabrication of the “Nanking Massacre”] are never seriously contested by professional historians in Japan.”38 The 1995 Tokyo hearings on Unit 731’s practices are another example of Japanese citizens’ willingness to address past wrongs. Similarly, when government cover-ups and lies are exposed the outrage of the Japanese public matches that of foreigners’, compelling the Japanese government to make an effort to atone for misdeeds. For example, when it came to light that the government lied about the Imperial Army’s enforcement of women working in brothels that traveled with Japanese troops, the public prompted the government to form a committee charged with issuing an extensive report.39 Prime Minister Tsutomu Hata also met with former comfort women while his successor Murayama announced a $1 billion, 10 year program designed to compensate them. Another case in point occurred after the watered-down June 1995 “Resolution to Renew the Determination for Peace on the basis of Lessons Learned from History” was released. More than 100 well-known academics and public figures from citizens’ movements signed a statement calling for a frank acknowledgment of Japan’s specific war crimes and demanded compensation for the individual victims of atrocities to be paid. The same group also admonished the Murayama government and the parliament stating, “We must confess that we are deeply ashamed of the persistent evasion of war responsibility committed by the governments and the Diet.”40 The 137 furthered declared, “We do not support the ‘Asian Peace and Friendship Fund for Women’ recently publicized by the government . . . because it is intended to replace state indemnities by private donations. This is a formula which is utterly inappropriate and is bound to fail to meet the claim of the victims.” It would appear they were right, as many of the comfort women refused the private fund’s money, demanding instead direct compensation from the government, along with a government apology. Some nationalist statements also resulted in the dismissal of the government official who made them. Take the case of the former director-general of the Management and Coordination Agency, Eto Takami. After Takami said something to the effect that “Japan did some good in its colonial rule of the Korean Peninsula,” he was removed from office by Murayama. Finally, even the conservative Ryutaro Hashimoto, the same man who promoted a mitigating stance on Japan’s role in the war while he was head of MITI and as prime minister visited the controversial Yasukuni shrine, declared in an August 1997 speech that he agreed with Murayama’s August 1995 expression of “deep remorse” and the former prime minister’s offer of a “heartfelt apology” to the people of those Asian nations that suffered because of Japanese aggression.41 Part of the recent willingness to discuss the realities of the Second World War is the result of Emperor Hirohito’s death in 1989. As long as Hirohito

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lived, Japan had trouble with self-examination because formally all acts during the war were carried out in his name and, although the Tokyo Trials carefully skirted the issue, Hirohito was formally responsible for everything that happened in the war. The official line after 1945, taken both by the Americans and the Japanese elite, was that Hirohito was innocent and that he did not know much of what his militaristic generals did. Today this “myth” is slowly being chipped away by a younger Japanese generation that is not hindered by the possibility of offending the emperor. It also helps that the current Japanese emperor Akihito, publicly expressed his sorrow for Japan’s wartime misdeeds during a royal visit to China in 1992. The emotional nationalists, like Morinosuke Kajima or Kenichi Matsumoto or even Shintaro Ishihara, are not taken seriously by the majority in Japan or by the outside world. Although the nationalists of the 1990s, who argue with Western skills learned from their own Western experiences, are more persuasive and are less likely to be ignored, they are also less militaristic than traditional nationalists and speak from a strong belief in internationalism. Despite the fact that many of the new Japanese nationalists no longer feel that the United States is the best economic or social model for Japan and advocate a new pride in Japanese history and culture, this new nationalism does not embrace Japanese militarism. Rather it finds that Japan, in preferably a non-Western manner, should make a reasonable contribution to the world through international frameworks. Japan could promote an alternative model to America’s, they argue, an Asian model that is not characterized by individualism but by cooperation. Finally, the new nationalists do not want a return to an isolated or aggressive Japan. Instead, they want a Japan anchored firmly in the international system with its Japanese-Asian identity intact. In conclusion, one could argue that much of the concern over Japan’s future role can be attributed to the tendency among some analysts to confuse a greater diplomatic and political role by Japan with a military profile apparently based on historical rationale. However, the historical basis upon which these comparisons are made does not exist today. Moreover, it is generally misleading to convert distinctive historical events into general laws of historical inevitability, a process that the philosopher Karl Popper called historicism. Analysts who continue to use historical rationale overlook the far-reaching changes that have taken place in Japan and the Asia-Pacific. As was the case with Germany in Europe, Japan and many other nation-states in the Asia-Pacific region are democracies, or at least claim to have democratic systems. Democratization tends to have a pacifying influence on international behavior. Although the conceptual tenets of the democratic peace theory originate in the democratic norms, structures and processes of Europe and thus differ in significant respects from the institutions in Asia, Steve Chan, for one, argues that together with economic

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interdependence, political liberalization in the Asia-Pacific region should result in a net pacifying effect on intra-regional relations.42

THE “NORMAL” JAPANESE In his analysis on Northeast Asian security Simon Duke makes the observation that for the region in general, “It is extremely difficult to define normalcy, due in part to the closed nature of North Korea’s and China’s regimes.”43 For Japan in particular, designating what is normal is an exacting task. With little doubt one can surmise that Japanese normalcy, similar to Germany’s, is related to its regional role. Certainly the limitations put on Japan’s sovereignty during the Cold War years did not enable it to conduct completely “normal” state relations. And certainly the possibility that Japan will remain a regional economic giant but a political-military dwarf strikes most non-Japanese as abnormal. However, it seems easier to identify abnormal state behavior than normal. As was found to be the case with Germany and its European neighbors, the Japanese are in disagreement on what it means to be “normal” citizens of the Asia-Pacific region. The present debate on normalcy in Japan can be separated by political parties and their leaders—specifically, predominantly between Ichiro Ozawa and his followers’ ideas and Masayoshi Takemura’s approach and his supporters. Ozawa and his conceptions of Japanese normalcy, found in his book Blueprint for a New Japan, have already been discussed in earlier chapters. Briefly, for Japan to become a normal state the traditional network of bureaucratic regulation must be reduced and prime ministers must be able to respond directly to the people’s will. In addition, the Japanese need to take part in and send Japanese peacekeeping forces to participate in UNSC-sanctioned missions. In short, Ozawa wants to create a Japan that accepts the responsibilities that great powers traditionally bear. On the other hand, Takemura argues, in his book, Japan, A Small but Sparkling Country, that Japan has little to gain from seeking expanded missions in UN peacekeeping or in general from increasing its role in international security regimes and frameworks. Michael Green surmises, “Where Ozawa sees normalcy as the ability to define national interest (and take the risks necessary to achieve the goals therein), Takemura’s version of normalcy means attending to the needs of an exhausted public that deserves a respite after four decades of strenuous economic catching-up.”44 Clearly, Takemura’s version of normalcy does not envision a change in Japan’s regional role. Outside Japan one can also find speculation by various Japan-watchers on what sort of state conduct is normal for Japan. In one view given by Chalmers Johnson and E. B. Keehn, in order for Japan to become an “ordinary country” it must renew the domestic debate on Japanese national responsibility, sovereignty and citizenship. They argue that the Japanese

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must reconsider the Peace Constitution, especially Article 9, and get out of their Cold War, timewarp thinking (a formula not that unlike Ozawa’s). The United States, for its part, has the responsibility, argue Johnson and Keehn, to help the Japanese renew this debate by withdrawing its soldiers from Japanese soil. The withdrawal of U.S. forces is important, they write, because, “The U.S. commitment to maintaining troops and bases in Japan well into the 21st century short-circuits this renewed internal debate and instead telegraphs America’s lack of confidence in the ability of Japan ever to become an ordinary country.”45 As in the German case, obtaining “normalcy” is a complex, imprecise process. Having foreign militaries stationed on their soil, even allies’ forces, is an abnormal situation. On the other hand, many Japanese would feel odd without their presence. Not participating in United Nations’ peacekeeping missions appears out of the norm; yet, television pictures of SDF personnel actually carrying out duties in peacekeeping tasks is disturbing for most Japanese. And what sort of power will Japan be in the twenty-first century? Will it continue its Cold War policy of economic giantism and political and security dwarfism, or might Japan assume a political-military role that is commensurate with its economic might? Certainly, most Japanese want a seat on the UN Security Council. At the same time, they fear the expectations such a seat brings. Ironically, Japan’s actions in the Gulf War might yet produce in the long term a country that is more willing to take on responsible roles. It was the Gulf War that started the Japanese thinking about their postwar abnormal pacifism: Was it really an honorable philosophy or merely a selfish excuse for inaction?46 The answer may surprise its neighbors and itself.

NOTES 1. Kent E. Calder. 1996. Asia’s Deadly Triangle: How Arms, Energy and Growth Threaten to Destabilize Asia Pacific. London: Nicholas Brealey, and; Mark J. Valencia. 1997. “Energy and Insecurity in Asia.” Survival 39(3): 85–106. 2. Ian Buruma. 1995. The Wages of Guilt. New York: Meridian. p. 7. 3. Michael Yahuda. 1996. The International Politics of the Asia-Pacific, 1945–1995. New York: Routledge. p. 231. 4. Karel van Wolferen. 1989. The Enigma of Japanese Power: People and Politics in a Stateless Nation. London: MacMillan. pp. 426–427. 5. Heinrich Kreft. 1996. “Japan’s Links with East and Southeast Asia.” Aussenpolitik 47(1): 80. Ezra Vogel writes, “In fact, a high proportion of Japanese aid money given to host countries is later used to purchase equipment or services from Japanese companies.” Ezra F. Vogel. 1994. “Japan as Number One in Asia.” In The United States, Japan, and Asia, ed. Gerald L. Curtis. New York: W. W. Norton. p. 175. See also Yutaka Kosai and Kenji Matsuyama. 1991. “Japanese Economic Cooperation.” Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 513: 62–75, and; T. J. Pempel. 1997. “Transpacfic Torii: Japan and the Emerging Asian

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Regionalism.” In Network Power: Japan and Asia, eds. Peter J. Katzenstein and Takashi Shiraishi. p. 68. 6. J.A.A. Stockwin. 1999. Governing Japan. Malden, MA: Blackwell. p. 197. 7. The managing director of the New York Times‘ advertising department refused to run the advertisement, which claimed that America did not receive Tokyo’s declaration of war until after the attack because of a “ludicrous blunder,” that only 2,400 civilians were actually killed by Japanese troops in Nanjing in 1937 (not the 150,000 other Japanese academics admit) and women were not forced into being sex slaves for the Japanese Imperial Army but rather were all practicing prostitutes in brothels run by private entrepreneurs. Robert Guest, “Japan’s war crimes denied in newspaper ad,” World News, 7 December 1995. 8. George Hicks. 1995. The Comfort Women: Sex Slaves of the Japanese Imperial Forces. St. Leonards, N.S.W., Australia: Allen & Unwin. 9. Kishore Mahbubani. 1992. “Japan Adrift.” Foreign Policy 88: 137. 10. Japanese revisionists also make an argument similar to their German counterparts’ position that Stalin was actually responsible for starting the Second World War and Nazism was merely a defensive reaction to Soviet tyranny. They argue that the “Greater East Asian War” was not a war of invasion but a holy war to liberate the world from the threat of communism. 11. Morinosuke Kajima. 1971. Modern Japan’s Foreign Policy. Tokyo: Tuttle. p. 54. 12. Ibid. 13. Watanabe was forced to retract after anti-Japanese riots in Seoul broke out in response to his statement. Charles Smith, “Sort of sorry,” Far Eastern Economic Review, 22 June 1995. 14. Shimamura was compelled to claim that he was misunderstood after his remarks drew criticism from South Korea and China. Emily Thornton, “Final Mea Culpa?” Far Eastern Economic Review, 24 August 1995. 15. “Truth or Consequences,” Far Eastern Economic Review, 15 June 1995. 16. The Yasukuni is a Shinto shrine dedicated to the worship of the spirits of those who lost their lives in the service of the emperor since the Meiji Restoration of 1868. Several million “spirits” are there, including the Class A war criminals who were hanged after the Tokyo Trials. The last prime minister to visit Yasukuni was Yasuhiro Nakasone in 1985; after his visit the militarist Nakasone had much bridge- building to do with Asian neighbors. 17. “Sorry, we forget,” The Economist, 8 July 1995. 18. Resolution to Renew the Determination for Peace on the basis of Lessons Learned from History, 9 June 1995, Unofficial translation by the Secretariat of the Japan House of Representatives. The New Mexico U.S.-Japan Center, Japan Policy Research Institute, . 19. Kevin Sullivan, “Japanese Nationalist Make Big Noise,” Guardian Weekly, 20 April 1997. 20. Shintaro Ishihara and Akio Morita. The Japan that Can Say “No,” The New U.S.-Japan Relations Card. Unauthorized translation in English. 21. Nicholas D. Kristof, “A Campaign to Restore Tojo’s Image,” International Herald Tribune, 23 April 1999. 22. “The new nationalists,” The Economist, 14 January 1995.

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23. Wayne Sandholtz, Michael Borrus, and John Zysman, eds. 1992. The Highest Stakes. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 24. Paul Dibb. 1995. “Towards a New Balance of Power in Asia.” Adelphi Paper 295. Oxford: Oxford University Press. p. 31. 25. Elisabeth Sköns, Agnes Courades Allebeck, Evamaria Loose-Weintraub and Petr Stålenheim. 1999. “Military Expenditure.” In SIPRI Yearbook 1999: Armaments, Disarmament and International Security. Oxford: Oxford University Press. pp. 309–312. 26. Reinhard Drifte. 1996. Japan’s Foreign Policy in the 1990s. New York: St. Martin’s. p. 73; see also SIPRI Yearbook 1996: Armaments, Disarmament and International Security. Oxford: Oxford University Press. pp. 327–329, and; The Military Balance 1996/97. The International Institute for Strategic Studies. London: Oxford University Press. pp. 174, 184–186. 27. “Squid, remorse and unpop music,” The Economist, 10 October 1998. 28. “Football diplomacy,” The Economist, 29 June 1996. 29. “Japan’s war with China, revisited,” The Economist, 6 September 1997. 30. See, for example, “U.S.-Japan Relations,” Testimony by Winston Lord, Assistant Secretary of State for East Asian and Pacific Affairs, before the House International Relations Committee, Subcommittee on Asia, 25 October 1995, Washington, D.C., U.S. Department of State, , and; “Strategy for East Asia and the U.S.-Japan Security Alliance,” Remarks by Joseph S. Nye Jr., Assistant Secretary of Defense for International Security Affairs, Pacific Forum Center for Strategic and International Studies/Japanese Institute of International Affairs Conference, San Francisco, 29 March 1995, . 31. A poll taken shortly after the Okinawan incident showed that only 14 percent of the Japanese wanted all American troops to leave, while a poll taken on Okinawa itself a year after residents demonstrated en masse against the U.S. presence on their island showed that only 14 to 23 percent of residents actually wanted the Americans to leave. Some speculate that Okinawans make life difficult for the United States because they want to obtain a higher price for the continued use of their land. See “Friends in need,” The Economist, 13 April 1996, and; “Okinawa’s rethink,” The Economist, 19 July 1997. 32. Nakosone as cited in Chalmers Johnson. 1992. “Immobile Democracy?” Daedalus 121(4): 4. 33. Richard Bernstein and Ross H. Munro. 1997. The Coming Conflict with China. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. p. 175. 34. Paul Dibb. 1997–98. “The Revolution in Military Affairs and Asian Security.” Survival 39(4): 93–116. RMA incorporates the use of advances in military information technology, such as real-time information from the battlefield that is integrated into a complex information system (what has been called the “system of systems”). Dibb identifies several reasons why Japan will be dependent on the U.S. for RMA for the next ten to fifteen years: (i) “Japan has a poor joint-operational doctrine”; (ii) Japan “suffers from inadequate Integrated Logistics Support (ILS)” and maintenance systems; (iii) “systems-integration, signal-processing and source-code skills are all deficient”; (iv) Japan “is unable to develop flight-control software, missile guidance, mission computer and

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jet-engine technologies,” and; (v) Japan’s “education system places heavy emphasis on factual content to the detriment of creativity and originality of thought.” See p. 110. 35. “Japan’s war with China, revisited,” The Economist, 6 September 1997. 36. Renato de Castro. 1994. “U.S. Grand Strategy in Post-Cold War Asia-Pacific.” Contemporary Southeast Asia 16(3): 344. 37. “The promising Mr. Hosokawa,” The Economist, 30 October 1993, and; “The secret behind the screen,” The Economist, 6 September 1997. 38. Buruma. 1995. p. 119. 39. The original official orders for the construction of “comfort stations” issued by the high command of the Imperial Japanese Army were found by a Japanese historian, Yoshiaki Yoshima, in 1992 after he watched a government spokesman deny that the military had recruited comfort women. Yoshima went back to the Self-Defense Agency library where he had remembered seeing something about the construction of “sexual comfort facilities” while doing research on another topic. The documents appeared in the Japanese newspaper Asahi Shimbun in January 1992, causing Prime Minister Miyazawa to apologize to the Korean people. 40. “We urge the Japanese Government to Make Compensation without Further Delay,” Statement with the signature of 137 well-known Japanese academics and public figures, handed over to Prime Minister Tomiichi Murayama on 30 June 1995. The New Mexico U.S.-Japan Center, Japan Policy Research Institute, . 41. Speech by Prime Minister Ryutaro Hashimoto to the Yomiuri International Economic Society, “Seeking a New Foreign Policy Toward China,” 28 August 1997, provisional translation, . 42. Steve Chan. 1996. “Regime Transition in the Asia/Pacific Region: Democratization as a Double-Edged Sword.” In The Transformation of Security in the Asia/Pacific Region, ed. Desmond Ball. 43. Simon Duke. 1995. “Northeast Asian Security.” The Journal of East Asian Affairs 9(2): 325. 44. Michael J. Green. 1995. “Craving Normalcy: The Japanese State after the Cold War.” In Disintegration or Transformation? The Crisis of the State in Advanced Industrial Societies, ed. Patrick McCarthy and Erik Jones. New York: St. Martin’s. p. 46. 45. Chalmers Johnson and E. B. Keehn. 1995. “The Pentagon’s Ossified Strategy.” Foreign Affairs 74(4): 108. 46. Masayuki Tadokoro. 1994. “The End of Japan’s ‘Non-Decision’ Politics.” Asian Survey 34(11): 1007.

Bibliography

Selected Books and Reports Asmus, Ronald D. 1992. Germany in Transition: National Self-Confidence and International Reticence. Santa Monica: Rand ——— . 1995. Germany’s Contribution to Peacekeeping: Issues and Outlook. Santa Monica: Rand. Ball, Desmond, ed. 1996. The Transformation of Security in the Asia/Pacific Region. London: Frank Cass. Bernstein, Richard, and Ross H. Munro. 1997. The Coming Conflict with China. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. Buruma, Ian. 1995. The Wages of Guilt. New York: Meridian. Calder, Kent E. 1996. Asia’s Deadly Triangle: How Arms, Energy and Growth Threaten to Destabilize Asia Pacific. London: Nicholas Brealey. Cossa, Ralph A., ed. 1993. The New Pacific Security Environment: Challenges and Opportunities. Washington, D.C.: National Defense University Press. Drifte, Reinhard. 1996. Japan’s Foreign Policy in the 1990s. New York: St. Martin’s. ——— . 1999. Japan’s Quest for a Permanent Security Council Seat. New York: St. Martin’s. Duke, Simon. 2000. The Elusive Quest for European Security. New York: St. Martin’s. Findlay, Trevor, ed. 1996. Challenges for the New Peacekeepers. SIPRI Research Report No. 12. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Genscher, Hans-Dietrich. 1998. Rebuilding a House Divided. New York: Broadway. Green, Michael. 1995. Arming Japan. New York: Columbia University Press. Heurlin, Bertel, ed. 1996. Germany in Europe in the Nineties. New York: St. Martin’s. Howorth, Jolyon, and Anand Menon, eds. 1997. The European Union and National Defense Policy. New York: Routledge.

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Bibliography

Katzenstein, Peter J., ed. 1997. Tamed Power: Germany in Europe. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Katzenstein, Peter J., and Takashi Shiraishi, eds. 1997. Network Power: Japan and Asia. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Markovits, Andrei S., and Simon Reich. 1997. The German Predicament. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press. Muller, Steven, and Gebhard Schweigler, eds. 1992. From Occupation to Cooperation: The United States and United Germany in a Changing World Order. New York: Norton. Neack, Laura, Jeanne A. K. Hey, and Patrick J. Haney, eds. 1995. Foreign Policy Analysis. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall. Pond, Elizabeth. 1999. The Rebirth of Europe. Washington, D.C.: Brookings Institution Press. Sa’adah, Anne. 1998. Germany’s Second Chance: Trust, Justice, and Democratization. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Schoenbaum, David, and Elizabeth Pond. 1996. The German Question and Other German Questions. New York: St. Martin’s. Stent, Angela E. 1999. Russia and Germany Reborn. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Stockwin, J.A.A. 1999. Governing Japan. Malden, MA: Blackwell. Verheyen, Dirk, and Christian Søe, eds. 1993. The Germans and Their Neighbors. Boulder: Westview Press. Yahuda, Michael. 1996. The International Politics of the Asia-Pacific, 1945–1995. New York: Routledge.

SELECTED ARTICLES Ash, Timothy Garton. 1994. “Germany’s Choice.” Foreign Affairs 73(4): 65–81. Bulmer, Simon, and William E. Paterson. 1996. “Germany in the European Union: gentle giant or emergent leader?” International Affairs 72(1): 9–32. Dibb, Paul, David D. Hale, and Peter Prince. 1999. “Asian’s Insecurity.” Survial 41(3): 5–20. Duke, Simon. 1994. “Germanizing Europe: Europeanizing Germany?” Security Dialogue 25 (4). 425–436. ——— . 1995. “Northeast Asian Security.” The Journal of East Asian Affairs 9(2): 323–384. Funabashi, Yoichi. 1992. “Japan and America: Global Partners.” Foreign Policy 86: 24–39. ——— . 1991–92. “Japan and the New World Order.” Foreign Affairs 70(5): 58–74. ——— . 1998. “Tokyo’s Depression Diplomacy.” Foreign Affairs 77(6): 26–36. George, Aurelia. 1993. “Japan’s Participation in U.N. Peacekeeping Operations.” Asian Survey 3(6):560–575. Gordon, Philip H. 1994. “Berlin’s Difficulties, The Normalization of German Foreign Policy.” Orbis (spring). pp. 225–243. Hellmann, Gunther. 1996. “Goodbye Bismarck? The Foreign Policy of Contemporary Germany.” Mershon International Studies Review 40: 1–30. Holbrooke, Richard. 1991–92. “Japan and the U.S.: The Unequal Partnership.” Foreign Affairs 70(5): 41–57.

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Janning, Josef. 1996. “A German Europe—a European Germany? On the debate over Germany’s foreign policy.” International Affairs 72(1): 33–41. Maull, Hanns W. 1990–91. “Germany and Japan: The New Civilian Powers.” Foreign Affairs 69(5): 91–107. ——— . 1995–96. “Germany in the Yugoslav Crisis.” Survival 37(4): 99–130. Nye, Joseph S. 1997–98. “China’s Re-emergence and the Future of the Asia-Pacific.” Survival 39(4): 65–79. ——— . 1992–93. “Coping with Japan.” Foreign Policy 89: 96–115. Pond, Elizabeth. 1995. “Germany Finds Its Niche as a Regional Power.” Washington Quarterly 19: 25–43. Thiele, Ralph D. 1999. “On the Reorientation of German Strategic Thinking.” National Security Studies Quarterly 5(1): 65–72.

Index

Adenauer, Konrad, 52, 54, 79, 108 Akashi, Yasushi, 136 Akihito, emperor, 200 Albania, 19, 181 Almond, Gabriel, 173 APEC (Asia Pacific Economic Cooperation Council), 5, 103, 104 Armacost, Michael, 2, 4, 94 Article 9 (Japanese constitution), 113, 114–15, 141, 144n. 35, 163–64; and military capabilities, 94; and new interpretation of, 108, 118, 132, 201–2; and U.S., 91 ASEAN (Association of Southeast Asian Nations), 2, 5, 93–94, 103–4, 148; and ARF (ASEAN Regional Forum), 20, 148 Asian economic crisis, 20, 26n. 57, 164 Asmus, Ronald, 51, 79

Bundestag, 46, 48–49, 64n. 83, 65n. 88, 175, 180, 184n. 8; and debate, 45, 58, 84, 86, 188n. 60; and Kosovo, 154; and Somalia and Bosnia, 71, 73–75, 81, 188n. 61. See also FRG Bundeswehr: and administration, 47, 48; and comparisons to the SDF, 163; and conscription, 176; and Gulf War, 55, 56; and Kosovo, 156–57; and participation in military peacekeeping operations, 42, 50, 78–82, 85–86; and size and capability, 2, 30; and Somalia, 83; and UNPROFOR, 78. See also FRG Buruma, Ian, 43, 106, 192, 198–99 Bush, George, 36, 53, 54, 94–95, 172; and administration, 33, 75; and relationship with Toshiki Kaifu, 116, 123; and speech in Mainz, 2, 32

Bahr, Egon, 46, 55 Bilateral security treaty, 1–2, 96, 99, 113, 159, 197. See also Japan Blair, Tony, 158 Brandt, Willy, 180 Bubis, Ignatz, 177

Calleo, David, 32–33 Central and Eastern Europe: and ecological disasters in, 44; and German historical ties with, 34, 172, 180; and German investment in, 175, 180–81; and importance of So-

212

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viet stability for, 36–37, 58, 78; and Mitteleuropa, 44–45, 150–51, 175, 180–81; and Rühe, 85, 181; and security concerns, 22, 33, 40, 51, 77, 83; and security structure in, 56, 148, 181, 191; and Soviet troops, 31 Chechnya, 22, 31, 81 China, 104, 109, 131, 163, 165n. 6, 198, 201; and ASEAN, 126n. 50; and economy, 26n. 55, 93; and military expenditure, 26nn. 59, 60; and regional power, 20, 26nn. 56, 57, 96, 148; and territorial disagreements, 27n. 61, 101, 126n. 48. See also Japan Chirac, Jacques, 85, 158 Choate, Pat, 97, 100 Clinton, Bill, 2–3, 18, 77, 159; and administration, 75, 77, 163, 164 Croatia, 4–5, 71–72, 77, 80, 84, 87nn. 21, 22, 181 CSCE (Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe), 71, 78, 84, 182. See also OSCE EC/U (European Community/Union): and Bosnia-Herzegovina, 71–72, 77–78; and CFSP, 5, 156–59, 168n. 59, 180, 182; and Cologne European Council, 159; and ERM (Exchange Rate Mechanism), 77, 180; and European Central Bank, 2; and France, 34–35; and FRG, 2, 39, 82–83, 85, 150–52, 155, 167n. 29, 182; and FRG’s economic power, 31, 186n. 28; and Great Britain, 36; and Gulf War, 82; and Helsinki European Council, 159; and integration, 41–42, 176, 179, 181; and Japan, 44, 101, 103–5; and Kosovo, 153; and Russia, 37; and WEU, 61n. 20 Engholm, Björn, 46, 55 Eurocorps, 35, 82 Fischer, Joschka, 40, 55, 81, 154, 155, 157, 158–59, 179 France, 60n. 2; and Contact Group, 83, 153; and defense spending, 158; and EC/EU, 31; and European de-

fense, 82, 158; and FRG, 31, 34–35, 56, 58, 77–78, 148, 150–52, 179; and German normalcy, 52, 69, 176–77; and German unification, 89n. 61; and Rambouillet, 156; and UNPROFOR, 72, 74 FRG (Federal Republic of Germany): and Basic Law, 46–51, 59, 65nn. 85, 87, 91, 93; and Basic Law interpretations, 69–71, 73–74, 83; and Bundesrat, 46, 49, 65nn. 90, 91, 157, 188n. 61; and Chancellery, 46–47, 48, 65n. 85; and defense spending, 32, 63n. 77, 81, 85, 158; and détente, 2, 53; and Federal Constitutional Court, 45, 46, 49–50, 65n. 91, 70–74, 80–81, 84, 177; and Federal Foreign Office, 46, 47; and Federal Ministry of Defense, 46, 47, 81; and Federal President, 46, 47; and France, 31, 34–35, 56, 58, 77, 148, 150–52, 179; and Great Britain, 31, 35–36, 52, 53, 58, 77, 151, 179; and NATO, 1, 2, 29, 30, 32, 37, 51–52, 172, 184–85n. 9; and Ostpolitik, 2, 53; and political parties, 41, 45–46, 58, 69–70, 72–75, 80–81, 154–57, 178; and public opinion, 41–45, 78–80, 149, 156; and Slovenia and Croatia, 4–5, 71–72, 77, 80, 84, 87nn. 21, 22, 181; and Soviet Union/Russia, 36–38, 53–54, 58, 78, 82, 83; and UN, 2, 34, 83–84, 85, 151; and unification, 30, 37, 54, 55, 59, 150, 172; and UNPROFOR, 78, 81; and U.S., 32–35, 44, 56, 59, 61nn. 18, 19, 82–83, 146, 152, 167n. 29, 179. See also EC/U GDR (German Democratic Republic), 31, 36, 44, 58, 59, 78, 178; and military, 32; and Mitterrand, 34, 172 Genscher, Hans-Dietrich: and European integration, 180; and role as Foreign Minister, 47, 53–55, 59, 78, 84, 105; and Slovenia and Croatia, 71–72, 84; and views on FRG’s role, 45, 71 Germany. See FRG

Index Goldhagen, David, 173, 185n. 18 Gorbachev, Mikhail, 34, 36, 37–38, 55, 84 Great Britain, 60n. 2; and Contact Group, 83, 153; and defense spending, 158; and European defense, 82; and FRG, 34, 35–36, 58, 77, 151, 179; and Genscher, 53; and German normalcy, 52, 69, 177; and military leadership, 31, 56; and Rambouillet, 156; and UNPROFOR, 72, 74; and World War II, 194 Habermas, Jürgen, 40, 183 Haftendorn, Helga, 39, 52, 56, 153 Hashimoto, Ryutaro, 140–41, 159, 162, 194, 196–97 Hata, Tsutomu, 112, 139–40, 199 Heilbrunn, Jacob, 41, 173–74, 178 Hirohito, emperor, 199–200 Hosokawa, Morihiro, 118, 139 Hussein, Saddam: and Bush, 53; and Genscher, 55, 59; and German public, 79; and Kuwait, 36, 56, 97, 120, 122, 123 IFOR (peace Implementation Force, Bosnia), 75 Iran, 55, 56, 59 Iraq, 4, 30, 31, 68, 127n. 59; and Bush’s ultimatum, 36; and EC, 82; and Genscher, 45, 53–55; and German public opinion, 79; and the Greens, 55; and ground war against, 53; and Japan, 97, 105, 120, 122 Ishihara, Shintaro, 99, 119, 123, 125n. 33, 193, 195, 200 Japan: and Bilateral security treaty, 1–2, 96, 99, 113, 159, 197; and China, 20, 91, 96, 100–101, 161–63, 197–98, 200, 203n. 14; and constitution, 91, 114–15, 120, 122, 132; and defense expenditure, 16–17, 196; and elite opinion, Gulf War, 106–7, 122; and financial crisis, 164; and Hiroshima and Nagasaki, 106, 192; and Japan Defense Agency, 113; and Japan-U.S. Mutual Security

213

Treaty, 92, 106, 140; and LDP, 109, 110, 112, 116–19, 122, 165, 193; and LDP policy, 96; and Ministry of Foreign Affairs, 112–13, 115, 122; and Ministry of International Trade and Industry, 113, 114, 115; and North Korea, 102, 160–61, 197; and PKO bill, 108, 117–18, 131–36, 140, 143n. 4, 192; and political parties, 107–8, 132–33, 136–41, 160, 193–94; and public opinion, 105–6, 164, 198, 202; and public opinion, Cambodia, 134–38, 149; and public opinion, Gulf War, 99, 105, 106, 122, 149; and public opinion, Japanese-U.S. bilateral relationship, 100; and South Korea, 101–2, 192, 196–97, 203n. 14; and TMD (Theatre Missile Defense), 160, 162, 169n. 68; and UN, 108, 117–18, 119, 122, 131–32, 160; and UN Security Council, 2, 5, 18; and U.S., 92, 96–100, 113, 120, 161–63, 197; and U.S.-Japan Joint Declaration on Security, 159, 161; and U.S., Japanese dependence upon, 92–93, 96–98, 122, 146, 150, 161–63, 202; and U.S., Japanese disagreements with, 92, 98–100, 137; and U.S. bases, 97–98, 101, 122, 197, 202; and U.S. trade relations, 92, 93, 98–100, 117, 119, 120, 146, 195; and USSR/Russia, 21, 96, 101–2, 120, 162; and World War II, 92, 106, 192–93, 194, 199. See also Article 9; SDF Joffe, Josef, 53, 73, 152, 178 Johnson, Chalmers, 97, 109, 201 Jong Il, Kim, 160 Kaifu, Toshiki, 94, 95, 108, 116; and government, 116–17, 123, 129n. 109, 131 Kaiser, Karl, 30, 37, 39, 49, 56 Kanemaru, Shin, 118, 119, 127n. 68, 129n. 113 Kennedy, Paul, 32–33 Kinkel, Klaus, 42–43, 73, 75, 84, 171, 182

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Kohl, Helmut, 30, 54–55, 84, 85, 151, 183; and CDU/CSU, 45, 73, 157; and Europe, 151, 179, 180, 187n. 53; and government, 72, 80, 177; and John Major, 77; and Mitterrand, 35, 172; and his role as chancellor, 52–53, 64n. 83, 74, 81, 83–84, 183; and Somalia, 70, 83; and Soviet Union/Russia, 36, 78; and Thatcher, 77; and Yugoslav crisis, 71–73 Kosovo, 153–59 Lafontaine, Oskar, 55, 80 LDP (Liberal Democratic Party), 109, 110, 112, 116–19, 122, 165, 193; and policy, 96 Major, John, 36, 77 Milosevic, Slobodan, 153–54, 155–56 Mitterrand, François, 34, 35, 72, 172 Miyazawa, Kiichi, 108, 117, 205n. 39; and government, 117–18, 133, 136, 138–39, 142 Murayama, Tomiichi, 5, 205n. 40; and government, 139, 140, 194–95, 199 Nakasone, Yasuhiro, 94, 113, 114, 197 NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization), 19–20, 33, 35, 45, 58–59, 60nn. 2, 7, 17, 61n. 18, 64n. 80; and alliance partners, 82, 103, 147; and Bosnia, 68, 75, 77, 87n. 13; and Bundeswehr, 81; and burden sharing, 15, 81, 82, 147; and Chinese embassy, 162; and enlargement, 83, 85, 150, 181, 188n. 60; and Eurocorps, 82, 89n. 60; and European security, 182; and euroskeptics, 40; and FRG, 1, 2, 29, 30, 32, 37, 51–52, 172, 184–85n. 9; and Kohl, 52; and Kosovo, 153–59, 167n. 35; and OOA, 19, 42, 44, 50, 53, 71, 73–74, 79; and Schröder, 63–64n. 77 Neorealists, 5–6, 175, 179 North Korea, 27n. 67, 148, 159, 160, 162, 201; and Japan, 21, 102, 160–61, 169nn. 67, 68, 197; and missile tests, 4, 21, 102, 169n. 65, 196

Obuchi, Keizo, 140–41, 162, 196 Okinawa, 98, 126n. 42, 195, 197, 204n. 31 OSCE (Organization on Security and Cooperation in Europe), 147, 148–49, 153, 165n. 4, 182. See also CSCE Ozawa, Ichiro, 106, 108, 112, 115, 118–19, 127n. 65, 129n. 96; and Gulf War, 118–19, 122, 123, 124n. 15; and Hosokawa, 139; and Japan’s role, 118–19, 201; and public opinion, 136, 143n. 18 Papadakis, Maria, 8–9 Poland, 83, 174, 179. See also Central and Eastern Europe Pond, Elizabeth, 4, 152, 172–73 Prestowitz, Clyde, 97, 99 Putin, Vladimir, 22 Rambouillet, 153, 156 Realism/realists, 1–2, 5–6, 30, 39 Realpolitik, 39, 43 Rosenau, James, 7, 8–9 Rühe, Volker, 75, 77, 84–85, 181, 182, 188n. 60 Scharping, Rudolph, 80, 85, 158 SDF (Self Defense Forces), 106, 118, 129n. 104, 143n. 3, 144n. 35; and Cambodia, 12, 133, 134–36; and creation of, 92, 113–15, 122; and defense spending, 94; and Gulf War, 4, 146; and lack of physical capabilities, 96, 197; and recruitment, 198; and UN military peacekeeping, 108, 117, 131, 132, 139, 140–42, 202; and U.S.-Japan Defense Cooperation, 159–61, 163 Serbia, 71, 72, 73, 157, 167n. 35, 175, 188n. 61 Slovenia, 4–5, 71–72, 77, 80, 84, 87nn. 21, 22, 181 Solana, Javier, 156, 159 South Korea, 101–2, 192, 196–97, 203n. 14 Soviet Union/Russia, 31, 60n. 2, 61n. 35, 82, 92, 96, 155, 165n. 6; and Con-

Index tact Group, 153; and FRG, 22, 33, 34, 36–38, 44–45, 58, 78, 172; and Genscher, 53–54, 55, 59, 84; and Japan, 21, 96, 101–3, 113, 120, 148, 162; and Mitterrand, 172; and World War II, 194 Starr, Harvey, 8–9 Stürmer, Michael, 39, 62n. 38 Takemura, Masayoshi, 106, 112, 122, 123, 139, 201 Tanaka, Kakuei, 118, 119, 129n. 113 Thatcher, Margaret, 35–36, 61n. 22, 77, 172 Tucker, Robert, 29–30, 93, 133–34 Turkey, 56, 57, 59 Two Plus Four Treaty, 29, 37, 54, 55, 59, 60n. 2, 150 UN (United Nations), 19–20, 25n. 49, 26nn. 54, 56, 114, 143n. 19; and Bosnia, 72–75, 78, 81, 83, 86, 87n. 13; and Cambodia, 68, 131, 133, 134–36, 142; and Convention on Law of the Seas, 102; and East Timor, 161; and FRG, 2, 33–34, 45–46, 58, 68, 83–86, 87n. 15, 151; and German public, 79, 80; and Gulf War, 33, 42, 68; and Japan, 2, 107– 8, 115, 123, 131, 160, 162, 201; and Japanese public, 136; and Kosovo, 153–59; and Peace Cooperation Corps bill, 117–19, 131–34, 136, 141–42; and SDF, 139, 140 United States, 165n. 6; and Bosnia, 78; and CFE, 37; and Congress, 3; and Contact Group, 83; and disagreements with Japan, 92; and East Asian Strategy Initiative, 16; and forces in Europe, 172; and FRG, 32–35, 44, 56, 59, 61nn. 18, 19, 82–83, 146, 152, 167n. 29, 179; and Genscher, 53, 55; and German unification, 89n. 61; and infrastructure and resources, 32, 86; and Japanese dependence, 92–93, 146, 150, 197–98; and Kohl, 53; and Kosovo,

215

155; and North Korea, 160, 169n. 65; and PDD-25, 25n. 49; and Peace Constitution, 91; and predominance, 31; and relations with Japan, 92, 96–100, 113, 116, 120, 159, 161–63, 197; and responsibility sharing, 18, 25n. 42, 75–77; and Somalia, 68, 86n. 8; and TMD, 169n. 68; and trade relations with Japan, 92, 93, 98–100, 120, 146, 195; and Two Plus Four Treaty, 60n. 2; and U.S. bases in Japan, 97–98, 101, 202; and World War II, 194 UNOSOM, 68–71, 80, 86nn. 4, 5, 8, 87n. 12 UNPROFOR, 72, 74, 78, 81 UN Security Council: and FRG, 2, 5, 52, 67, 83, 105, 151, 160; and Japan, 2, 5, 160, 166n. 23, 169n. 64, 202; and Ozawa, 118, 201; and Takemura, 119, 201 UNTAC, 133, 134, 136, 142, 143n. 5, 161, 192 Van Wolferen, Karel, 1, 94, 97, 109, 128n. 76 Vogel, Ezra, 93, 100, 105, 202n. 5 Voigt, Karsten, 46, 55, 80, 182 Waigel, Theo, 85, 186n. 23 Waltz, Kenneth, 1, 8, 23n. 18, 24n. 31 Watanabi, Michio, 108, 122, 194 WEU (Western European Union), 35, 71, 73, 82–83, 155, 182; and Gulf War, 45, 59 Wieczorek-Zeul, Heidi, 55, 80 Yoshida, Shigeru, 91–92, 113 Yoshida Doctrine, 92, 107, 121–22 Yugoslavia, 19, 31, 75, 78, , 153, 167n. 35; and FRG, 69, 74, 75– 78, 80–81, 88n. 45, 149, 154; and Genscher, 71–72; and Kinkel, 84; and Kohl, 71–72, 83–84; and Mitteleuropa, 175, 181, 188n. 61. See also Serbia Zitelmann, Rainer, 41, 178

About the Author ROBERTA N. HAAR is an independent scholar working on issues relating to German and European foreign affairs. Among Dr. Haar’s recent publications is The Kosovo Crisis and Its Consequences for a European Security Architecture.