Lessons from British Foreign Policy

When I wrote that American foreign policy since 1607 has been simply a copy or remake of British foreign policy, I deliberately left out one significant aspect of Anglo-British policy. That was English policy toward the continent of Europe during most of the Nineteenth Century.
After 1815, England stood offshore from the continent, played balance of power politics with a nudge here or a threat there, and avoided participation in any European shooting war from 1815 to 1914—with one small exception when she was asked to participate in an anti-Russian coalition in the Crimea.
Contrast this to the Eighteenth Century in which British troops fought major battles on the continent in four world-wide wars. In the Nineteenth, she left Europe alone as long as her sea power was unchallenged.
She stood aloof as mortal enemy, France, went from Monarchy to Republic to Empire to Republic. She insisted on the Tripartite Treaty of 1830 when the United Netherlands split into two ineffectual parts but did nothing more. She stood idle as nearly every government in western and central Europe collapsed in revolutionary convulsions in 1848.
She did nothing as a series of German wars eliminated Austria as a Major Power, humiliated France and created a dangerously powerful united Germany. She stayed out of the Russo-Turkish War in 1878, only participating in the Congress of Berlin that year.
She watched, she put a thumb on the scale here or there, but she did nothing military. It worked because she had unchallenged control of the seas—all over the globe. When Spain, Russia, Austria, France and Prussia wanted to invade the United States in 1820, they couldn’t move without the approval of the British fleet—which never came.
When France wanted to fight Russia over the Holy Places in Turkish Jerusalem, not an army could move unless transported by the British navy. France and Spain could not invade Mexico in 1862 without the concurrence of Britain. All three went in together.
Few Americans are aware of how close the United States came to destruction in 1861-2. It was not the prowess of Robert E. Lee, but the threat of British naval intervention on behalf of the Confederacy that could have ended our existence. Only the dying Prince Albert, propped up in bed, saved us.
In other words, in the words of an American naval captain and author, Albert Thayer Mann, sea power was the key. Sea power was supreme. From Napoleon to the Kaiser there were no world wars—because sea power prevented them. (At some point someone has to say something about Rothschild financial power which certainly prevented wars in the early 19th Century, but the real teeth lay with the British navy.)
With all of our concentration on top-of-the line land vehicles and army special forces, Americans have possibly forgotten Thayer’s point. The British army during the Pax Britannica was tiny. It was good for colonial wars, period.
It might truly be said that if we continue to rule the waves, what happens on the land masses of Africa, Asia and Europe, are essentially insignificant. Perhaps we can back off and give a nudge here, make an unspoken threat there. But if we keep control of the skies over our fleets (with carriers) and maintain our capacity to destroy any fleet that might challenge us, our need to send in troops (for any but rather silly ideological reasons—like Iraq and Vietnam) will be minimal.
We must learn the core premise of Balance of Power politics—as articulated by England’s Prime Minister Palmerston: “A Great Power has no friends, only interests.” Bluntly put, “We don’t care if you are Communists or cannibals, as long as you allow us to make money trading with you, and you do not challenge us at sea.”
This is a British policy we might consider emulating. It worked. It prevented major war in a divided and fractious Europe. Only when Germany decided to go head to head with England in the area of naval power, did she finally become entangled in the alliances that toppled over on themselves in 1914.
As World War I shows us, disengagement won’t last forever, but it may provide us with a long and peaceful run, as it did Britain. Right now, we’re letting our navy slip badly. There is a real question, as the Russian navy roams the Caribbean freely (as a reaction to our foolish provocations in Eastern Europe and the former soviet block nations) whether we have enough naval muscle off our southern coast to control those waters effectively.
That question had better never arise seriously. (We have too many indigenous enemies down there.) Back off the fun stuff with tanks and M-16s, and put your money where your navy (and naval air arm) is.
That’s where your oil and your without which not metals that keep a modern society come from—the areas that our navy can control. Here, we could learn from Imperial Britain. Maybe we’d better, fast.