Inferiority complex Daniel Widome* | Foreign Policy Association | 2007
http://www.fpa.org/topics_info2414/topics_info_show.htm?doc_id=562758 In recent weeks, the House of Representatives has dipped its toe into an international pool of historical animosity. The partial success of a resolution condemning the 1915 mass killings and deportations of Armenians by the Ottoman Empireit passed a House committee but has not yet been considered by the full Housetook many by surprise. In reality, the furor surrounding this resolution was simply the latest episode in the long story of Congressional involvement with overseas historical controversies, particularly by the House. But in its repeated attempts to prove relevant, the House of Representatives inadvertently risks becoming a detrimental force in U.S. foreign policy. On October 10, the House Foreign Affairs Committee passed House Resolution 106 by a vote of 27 to 21. The resolution did not mandate any specific action, but it offered official condemnation of the mass killings and deportations of Armenians by the Ottoman Empire during World War I. Support from Speaker Nancy Pelosi (D-CA) and dozens of co-sponsors suggested that the resolution might make it to the House floor, where it very likely would win passage. On a factual basis, the resolution stood on solid ground. Scholars and experts agree that the Ottoman Turks deported and killed anywhere from a few hundred thousand to several million ethnic Armenians during World War Igenocide may indeed be a fair description. Representative Tom Lantos (D-CA), Chair of the Foreign Affairs Committee, noted that, "one of the problems we have diplomatically globally is that we have lost our moral authority which we used to have in great abundance." On a political basis, however, the resolution generated enormous controversy. Modern Turkeythe geographic successor to the Ottoman Empirehas always been extremely (if not irrationally) sensitive about this period in its history. Turkey briefly recalled its ambassador to the United States, and its top general, Yasar Buyukanit, proclaimed, "if this resolution passed in the committee passes the House as well, our military ties with the U.S. will never be the same again." All eight living former U.S. secretaries of state signed a joint letter to Pelosi warning that the resolution "would endanger our national security interests." In the face of these attacks, as well as opposition from the Bush administration and from military leaders who noted Turkey's logistical importance in supporting the war in Iraq, Pelosi has backtracked from her early willingness to move the resolution to the House floor: "Whether it will come up for a floor vote or not, what the action will be remains to be seen." This wasn't the first time the House has inserted itself into a matter of historical controversy abroad. In July, it passed a resolution calling on Japan to formally acknowledge its military's coercion of young women from China, Korea, and other occupied countries into sexual slavery as "comfort women" during World War II. Although wartime abuses by the Japanese military are firmly established as historical fact, the question of how contemporary Japanese governments acknowledge such abuses is very much a contentious issue. Japan's ambassador to the United States, Ryozo Kato, said passage of the resolution, "will almost certainly have lasting and harmful effects on the deep friendship, close trust and wide-ranging cooperation our two nations now enjoy." Unlike the Armenian genocide resolution, the comfort women resolution ultimately passed both the Foreign Affairs Committee and the full House. But the two resolutions shared many similarities. Each was non-binding, each dealt directly with important U.S. allies overseas, and each unearthed distant historical controversies. Perhaps the most important similarity between the Armenian genocide resolution and the comfort women resolution is their origin: the House of Representatives. Under the Constitution, the House is clearly designated as the lower chamber of the legislature. Although all revenue bills must originate there, it is the Senate that must approve executive appointees and ratify international treaties. To be sure, the legislature is inherently limited in the foreign policy role it can play. But by design and by tradition, the Senate has always been the pre-eminent chamber of Congress in terms of foreign policy. This has stuck the House with something of an inferiority complex. Passing non-binding resolutions on seemingly obscure, historical issues often seems like a good way for an internationally- handicapped House to have a voice in foreign policy. The House's foreign policy inferiority complex is magnified by structural factors. The House has always been the "people's chamber." Senators serve six-year terms, represent entire states, and have only been directly elected for less than 100 years. Representatives, on the other hand, serve two-year terms, represent much smaller and more homogenous districts, and have been directly elected throughout U.S. history. The distinctions between the two chambers are very much by design. The Senate was to be a sober, deliberative body somewhat insulated from rapid swings of public opinion, while the House was to be more directly responsive to the immediate, localized interests of the electorate. To a remarkable degree, the structure works as intended. The main sponsor of the Armenian genocide resolution is Representative Adam Schiff (D-CA). His district is home to approximately 75,000 Armenian-Americansone of the largest concentrations of ethnic Armenians in the United States. The main sponsor of the comfort women resolution was Representative Mike Honda (D-CA). Almost 30% of Honda's constituents identified as Asian in the 2000 census, a figure that includes many Chinese- and Korean-Americans. The fact that House members are particularly responsive to their constituents' interests (and money) is perhaps a good thingit's how representative democracy is supposed to work. But the House is doubly limited in its influence on U.S. foreign policy. Not only does it face the limitations inherent to the legislative branch, but it is the lower chamber of Congress, as well. This means that its forays into foreign policy often carry the unfortunate distinction of being both toothless and shortsighted. Neither the Armenian genocide resolution nor the comfort women resolution mandated any change in U.S. policy. But in digging up far-away historical controversies, they overlooked vital contemporary context. Although measures condemning the Armenian genocide have been introduced in Congress in the past, the timing of this most recent resolution is uniquely counterproductive. In recent years, Turkey has become increasingly wary of the West, in general, and the United States, in particular. Turks overwhelmingly opposed the 2003 U.S. invasion of Iraq, and since then, Turkish popular perception of the United States has only worsened. In 2005, just 23% of Turks had a favorable impression of the United States, down from 52% in 2000. Shortly after the House Foreign Affairs committee passed the Armenian genocide resolution, the Turkish parliament authorized its government to strike PKK strongholds in Kurdish-controlled northern Iraqa move motivated, in part, by perceived U.S. inaction toward recent attacks by that group in southeastern Turkey. As a secular, democratic, and predominantly Muslim state located in a strategic corner of the globe, Turkey is an indispensable U.S. ally. Although modern Turkey is far too sensitive about abuses committed by its imperial predecessor, measures such as the Armenian genocide resolution threaten to embolden vitriolic and nationalist elements in Turkey that could turn the country away from the West. However real the Armenian genocide may have been, it serves no one's interests to endanger the U.S.-Turkey relationship for reasons of limited contemporary value and zero substantive consequence. The effect of the comfort women resolution was somewhat different. For many reasons, East Asian politics continue to be shaped by World War II and by the region's conflicting interpretations of wartime history. Japan has never truly grappled with or acknowledged its wartime responsibility, and Japan's neighbors frequently use this fact to inhibit current relations. There is no doubt that the Japanese military forced women from occupied countries into sexual slavery during the war. But when presented with the House resolution, bellicose Japanese politicians felt compelled to respond. "It is extremely regrettable that the resolution is definitely not based on facts," noted Taro Aso, then Japanese Foreign Minister. This comment and others like it had little effect on U.S.-Japan relations. But in the hypersensitive diplomatic world of East Asia, where historical slights can suddenly inflame contemporary problems, such comments do not help Japan's relations with China, Korea, or any other formerly occupied country. None of this is to suggest that members of the House of Representatives should remain silent on issues of foreign policy. It is their responsibility as elected officials to represent their constituents and to shape public policy. Indeed, in a democracy, it is absolutely vital that citizens are engaged in the foreign policy- making process, and the House facilitates this function. But in its attempts to prove relevant on the international stage, the House of Representatives risks being counterproductive, if not outright harmful. As it continues to delve into contentious issues of history and foreign policy, the House would be well advised to temper its passion with a dose of much-needed context. *Daniel Widome is a San Francisco-based writer and foreign policy analyst. He can be reached at [EMAIL PROTECTED]
