There is “nothing to fear but fear itself,” President Roosevelt told an anxious citizenry. The fear he referenced was based upon the reality of Pearl Harbor and of enemy subs firing shells at the West Coast (a few fell harmlessly on vacant farmlands). Those events seemed like harbingers of a full scale invasion and a realistic basis for widespread fear and its corollary, a gut response. One columnist in California proclaimed that he hated all Japanese, including those born in this country. But Roosevelt was trying to exercise leadership by quelling an over reactive mass hysteria and, at the same time, focusing the nation on the task at hand—which was building the armaments and resources needed for full scale war. The nation was facing a real existential threat that required a massive mobilization effort. Decades later on 9-11 America suffered another attack upon its homeland. Although on this occasion the nation was not facing an existential threat, President Bush recognized that he would need support both from the American people and from Congress in order to exact justice on the culprits. That support was readily given in the polls and in legislative action. But, other than garnering support, he never required anything else from the American people. When he extended his war powers to include Iraq, his Administration used the age old political tool of inciting fear. Remember the “evidence” that Hussein was plotting with terrorists and harboring nuclear weapons or the image of a mushroom cloud hanging over an American city. The politics of fear are not just of recent vintage: state leaders and politicians have used fear to manipulate a susceptible public throughout history. But the use of fear in this manner—to obtain war authority—is not leadership, for it asks nothing of its followers other than the license to wage war in their name. We were never asked to do more than watch “shock and awe” on television and vow support for our troops. Machiavelli once said that “a prince must have no other object and no other thought than war and its methods and conduct . . .” The use of fear is one of those methods, assuring the desired public reaction of acquiescence to the prince’s power to wage war. But Machiavelli was a despot. Persuasion was merely part of his arsenal to disarm naysayers so that he might exercise state power freely. His type of leadership should have no influence in a free, democratic society. President Bush may have commanded a volunteer army that represented half of one percent of the U. S. population, but he never persuaded the American people to do anything other than blindly acquiesce to the invasion of Iraq. In a democracy, however, we would expect debate on matters of war and peace and a public persuaded to some form of common action. You may think this analysis is too harsh. But ask yourself whether Americans would have supported our recent wars if a war tax had been suggested or if a selective service system had been proposed for reinstatement. President Roosevelt in effect did both, raised revenue and called Americans to arms. President Bush only asked for a license to do whatever his Administration decided. His initial cause was just; his intent may have been pure; but his sole rallying cry was based on fear. That fear was indeed something to fear in itself, for it blinded Americans to reality and to the war’s false justification.

Since World War II, America has engaged in many military conflicts around the world. Those conflicts have changed history, but too often not in favor of our objectives. Witness North Korea, Vietnam, Somalia, Libya, Iraq, and now Syria, to name a few. My thesis today is simply that we have allowed the definition of “existential threat” to be inflated well beyond its meaning and have fallen victim to the politics of fear. I am not advocating disengagement from world affairs, but for more honesty from our leaders and much more participation by the American public. Given all the military engagements of the intervening decades, how many Americans have even reflected on the fact that we have not had to defend our nation from a foreign state since World War II? We have instead interjected our military in civil wars where the ultimate outcome had little likelihood of being determined by America. Our troops were put in harm’s way to assuage our fears of radical ideologies like communism or extreme jihadism, wayward dictators who posed no threat to America, and the unproven existence of WMDs in a country without the means to deliver them. And yet, since World War II, the only effective use of our military power against an actual existential threat was as a deterrent in the Cuban missile crisis. President Kennedy’s deft use of that deterrent averted World War III. He also gave substance to President Theodore Roosevelt’s foreign policy mantra, “speak softly but carry a big stick.” The emphasis here is on “carry.” Currently, America has the biggest stick and the most effective deterrent to any existential threat since the Roman Empire. In addition, we also have significant financial, cultural, and diplomatic capabilities with which to influence the world community. Our use of military power to defend ourselves has never been questioned. But any deviant exercise of that power runs the risk of undermining our global influence and betraying the trust of the American public. Amongst other core values outlined in the preamble to our Constitution, the United States of America was formed to “provide for the common defense.” This country has no colonies, no empire, and no fiefdoms to protect. But we will defend our nation and by extension our allies, because we exist for ourselves foremost and as a beacon of freedom for the world. As an enlightened nation, we should never permit our leaders to govern by fear. Our founding fathers outlined for us a path forward that called for public debate and consensus. These prescriptions demand reasoned decision making from our representatives, not manipulative fear mongering. Too many times of late, we have been flummoxed by the politics of fear, rather than honest judgment.

In America we are at the beginning of an extended electoral campaign. This is the season where the politics of fear will pour into every media catch basin and overflow into the fertile unconscious of all of us. Already presidential candidates have stated that “jihadists will kill us all,” presumably unless we kill them first, that Russia will retake its empire and threaten America with its nuclear arsenal, that China’s rise will hold America’s debt in the balance as it extends its power over all of Asia, that immigrants from our southern border will infringe our freedoms and steal benefits and resources from law-abiding Americans. According to the fear brokers, we need strong leaders who will deploy our troops in Syria and Iraq, bolster Ukraine with high-powered armaments and U. S. military advisors, sail warships into the South China Sea, and buffer our southern borders with even greater military force and drones. Certainly, there are real global issues that America faces in the Middle East, Eastern Europe, Asia, and our own Western Hemisphere. But the only existential threat America faces at this time is from within. Gridlock and partisanship in Washington has stymied effective governance. Growing financial inequality threatens the fabric of society where not only income but wealth, education, and opportunity are relegated to an ever-decreasing privileged. The nation’s outstanding productivity is squandered with trillions of dollars spent on foreign wars while our infrastructure withers from lack of investment and our inner cities become conclaves of poverty where only neglect and desperate crime prosper. And perhaps the biggest existential threat is a pliable citizenry duped by the politics of fear.

The politics of fear may be a proven way to win over an electorate, but it treads a dangerous path towards governance. For fear suborns judgment. Remember “the only thing to fear is fear itself.”