The international politics of missile defense also helps explain the Bush administration’s conciliatory turn. Any future US missile defense would likely deploy at least some interceptors in Europe, so unless the United States wanted to invade its NATO allies, it needed to gain their approval for the initiative. However, US dependence on Europe created an opportunity for Russia to bargain with the United States by scaring Europe into believing that missile defense would re-ignite arms races. Russia played this strategy so well that Europe’s approval of the Bush administration’s plans became almost directly contingent on Russian consent. Europe happily played the other half of the game, using Russia’s threats as political cover for its own objections to missile defense. They often cited the other’s concerns—rather than their own—as a reason to slow missile defense plans. Russian and European leaders put the United States into a political corner, forcing it to either negotiate or risk damaging ties with many important allies. This outcome was possible because immense military strength is not fungible; exercising it requires political acumen and bargaining skills.

Finally, the paradox of hegemony also constrained US ability—or rather its willingness—to exercise the power afforded it by military superiority. The United States could have disregarded Russian and European objections, but such a move would have seriously damaged US-Russian and US-European relations in ways that could have undermined US power in the long run. Such unilateralism would have increased the incentives for Russia to form an anti-US alliance with China. It also would have undercut the unity of NATO, an institution that gives the United States an important voice in European affairs and provides security in a region where the United States fought two world wars. Because of these dangers, the United States chose to soften the perception of its missile defense system as a threat. Through consultations, the United States enlisted Russia as a partner in a new security architecture and reassured Europeans of its commitment to the Atlantic alliance. Instead of arrogantly overriding other states’ concerns, the United States chose to restrain itself, exactly as the paradox of hegemony would predict. The United States relied on political finesse to complement its military power.

The United States is still pursuing missile defense. But the way the administration has chosen to pursue it—through multilateralism and consultation rather than unilateralism and abrogation—reveals the three-fold constraints that even a superpower faces.

Intervention in Kosovo

The Clinton administration’s approach to Kosovo points to similar conclusions. By early fall 1998, the escalating ethnic violence in Kosovo convinced Clinton of the need for intervention. But instead of proceeding unilaterally, the Clinton administration built support within NATO for air strikes against Serbia. Only in late winter, when all NATO members were convinced that further negotiations would not stop the conflict, did full-scale preparations for the air war begin. Then, after Serbia surrendered in late spring, the United States shared peacekeeping responsibilities with British, French, German, Russian, and Italian troops. The United States promptly relinquished coordination responsibilities to the United Nations, which in turn delegated military security to NATO, economic management to the European Union, and institution-building to the Organisation for Security and Co-operation in Europe. But the United States was the most militarily powerful country in the world—why did it intervene in concert with NATO rather than alone, and why did it share postwar responsibilities with other countries and institutions?

Again, domestic politics offers a partial answer. Although the administration did eventually execute the operation it sought, congressional and public opposition severely limited the resources on which it could draw. The administration had ruled out the use of ground troops almost immediately, which did little to project an image of US resolve and credibility to Serbia or to NATO. Clinton himself had little room to bargain over this outcome given the recent Lewinsky scandal and the disastrous 1993 intervention in Somalia. His administration’s domestic weakness made the logistical and peacekeeping assistance of allies all the more important.

Of course, in relying more heavily on allies, the United States had to be more sensitive to those countries’ domestic pressures during and after the conflict. The United States had to cultivate a public image of unity with the other NATO countries so that their leaders would not appear to be puppets of the United States. In reality, Washington alone controlled strategy and targeting decisions, and the allies privately bickered about which ones they supported, but to the audience at home and the enemy abroad, NATO projected an image of cohesion. Without this public relations campaign and the appearance of multilateralism, Serbia would have felt less encircled, the United States would have encountered much greater logistical challenges during the operation, and the Europeans would never have agreed to supply 80 percent of the peacekeeping forces. Making the operation work required careful diplomacy, not just superpower strength.

The paradox of hegemony also helps explain why the United States would care about other countries’ perceptions of the intervention and seek the political legitimacy attached to multilateralism. Although the United States possessed the brute military strength to intervene unilaterally in Kosovo, such action would have drawn universal international condemnation and heightened perceptions of NATO’s obsolescence. Aware of these potential long-term threats to US interests, the Clinton administration restrained itself. By including NATO in the intervention, the United States preserved its longer-term stake in an alliance the administration had worked hard to strengthen. By drawing other nations and organizations into the reconstruction of Kosovo, the United States lessened the perception that its use of force posed a threat other countries should balance against. In fact, peacekeeping in Kosovo actually opened up leadership opportunities for other countries, especially Russia.

Although the United States faced criticism for not seeking UN authorization of its mission in Kosovo, the operation was nevertheless much more inclusive and multilateral than US superpower status required it to be. Here, as in so many other instances, the United States’ political system, its international relationships, and its broad conception of self-interest limited its choices on the world stage.

Stalemate in Iraq

In contrast to US successes on missile defense and in Kosovo, US policy toward Iraq has failed. Despite the US victory in the Gulf War, Iraqi President Saddam Hussein still poses a threat to Persian Gulf security. He has evaded efforts aimed at Iraq’s disarmament and containment, and his tyrannical regime continues to repress its subjects. Meanwhile, sanctions have caused a humanitarian catastrophe for the Iraqi people but apparently have had little effect on the lifestyle of Hussein and his cohorts. Arms inspectors have not been inside Iraq since 1998, and the US-led coalition that drove Iraqi troops out of Kuwait 10 years ago has collapsed. How has Iraq, a relatively weak country, managed to outsmart a superpower?