

TIME
July 3, 2006, Vol. 168, No. 1, pp. 62+
Copyright © Time Inc., 2006. All rights reserved. No part of
this material may be duplicated or redisseminated without permission.
Roosevelt: The Maker of a Superpower--The Birth of a Superpower
By Paul Kennedy
• Roosevelt's expanded Navy vanquished Spain and helped the U.S. project its might around the world
The facts were blindingly obvious, claimed the precocious Harvard graduate in his book
The Naval War of 1812, or the History of the United States Navy During the Last War with Great Britain.
First, in the eternal Darwinian struggle that took place between
calculating, egotistic nation-states, it was essential for one
country--in this case, the U.S. at the close of the 19th century--to
avoid "a miserly economy in preparation for war." And for a state as
dependent on sea power as America, it was unthinkable that the nation
"rely for defence [sic] upon a navy composed partly of antiquated
hulks, and partly of new vessels rather more worthless than the old."
The U.S. was rising to world-power status, but it could do so only on
the back of a powerful and efficient Navy.
Phew! Who was saying this? The writer
in question was none other than Theodore Roosevelt, then a mere 24
years old. He was just a short time out of college when his book was
first published, in 1882, but already making waves. Here is one of the
few examples in recent history--Churchill is another--of a young,
highly ambitious man who could foresee his own impact on the future
international order. From early on, Churchill seemed to have possessed
a premonition that he would lead his nation and empire in an age of
great peril. In much the same way, T.R. appeared destined--and felt
destined--to preside over, and manage, the U.S.'s emergence as one of
the global great powers. He believed also that his leadership would be
decisive because he had understood, before many of his contemporary
political rivals and friends, the importance of naval power in
buttressing the international position of the U.S.
Roosevelt was, for an American,
unusually familiar with naval history. Two of his uncles, brothers of
his Southern-born mother, had been involved in the Confederate navy in
the Civil War. (One of them, James D. Bulloch, was a Confederate naval
agent who commissioned the C.S.S.
Alabama,
the famous commerce raider on which his younger brother Irvine served.)
The young Theodore had grown up with stories about earlier naval
battles and eagerly read works on the history of war. Yet it would be
fair to say that his notions about sea power--build bigger warships,
concentrate the fleet--were primitive until the late 1880s, when he was
introduced to one of the greatest luminaries of naval thought, Captain
Alfred Thayer Mahan. At the time of their first meeting, Mahan, then in
his late 40s, was giving lectures at the Naval War College in Newport,
R.I., lectures that would culminate in the 1890 publication of his
international best seller,
The Influence of Sea Power upon History 1660-1783.
Mahan's book, which Roosevelt devoured in
one reading, is at first sight a detailed account of the many battles
fought by the British Royal Navy as it rose to become sovereign of the
seas. But it is much more than that, for Mahan claimed to have detected
the principles that underlay the workings of sea power, and had
determined the rise and fall of nations. With great skill, the author
showed the intimate relationships among productive industry,
flourishing seaborne commerce, strong national finances and enlightened
national purpose. Great navies did not arise out of thin air; they had
to be built up over time with the most modern warships, well-trained
crews and decisive admirals. Ultimately, though, it was the man or the
men at the top--those steering the nation through war and peace--who
had to understand the great influence that navies could exert on
international politics. Sea power, if properly applied by such leaders,
was the vital tool for any country aspiring to play on the world stage.
Here was a road map for the rest of
T.R.'s life, or at least the part of it that would be focused on
foreign affairs. In Roosevelt's future naval policies we see the
embodiment of Mahan's larger principles. Moreover, this conjuncture of
Mahan the theoretician and Roosevelt the man of action arrived at just
the right time in the history of the U.S. Its industries were booming,
its commerce thriving and its merchants fighting to gain markets
overseas in the face of tough foreign competition. All of that pointed
to the need for a strong Navy. And, to be sure, the nation was getting
one. The fleet was no longer the dilapidated collection of small
warships it had been when Roosevelt wrote his book about the War of
1812. By the late 1890s, it could be reckoned among the top four or
five in the world.
But it was Roosevelt, more than
anyone else, who turned U.S. sea power into the manifestation of the
nation's outward thrust. His first demonstration of that counts among
his most famous decisions. By 1897 he was Assistant Secretary of the
Navy, a position in which he could act out his ambitions, especially
since the Secretary, John D. Long, was a rather sick man and President
William McKinley had no great interest in naval matters. On Feb. 15,
1898, when news arrived of the sinking in Havana harbor of the U.S.S.
Maine--the event that effectively set off the Spanish-American War--Roosevelt had his opportunity.
Roosevelt had previously confided in
Mahan his belief that the U.S. should push Spain out of not only Cuba
but also the Philippines, though at the time acquiring the Philippines
was by no means a goal of the McKinley Administration. Ten days after
the
Maine
went down, on a late Friday afternoon when Long was temporarily out of
the office, his dynamic assistant cabled instructions to Admiral
William T. Sampson in the Caribbean and Commodore George Dewey in Hong
Kong to prepare for decisive action. Long, though by his own account
somewhat bemused, did nothing later to counter those orders. So when
Congress declared war on Spain on April 25, the U.S. squadrons in both
theaters had been heavily reinforced. The results--the destruction of
the Spanish fleets in Manila Bay and, two months later, off Santiago,
Cuba--were decisive. Spain had been reduced to the rank of a minor
power, and the deeply troubled lands of Cuba and the Philippines came
under U.S. sway.
The naval war of 1898 provided the
nation with a complete justification of Mahan's theories. The firepower
of the American battleships had clearly been overwhelming--a great
relief to Roosevelt, who had feared voices in Congress calling instead
for lots of small, coastal-defense vessels. Most impressive of all was
the performance of the new battleship U.S.S.
Oregon,
which had steamed from San Francisco to Cuba to partake in the final
battle. In fact, so enthusiastic was Congress about the importance of
the Navy that it authorized the construction of many more battleships
and heavy cruisers.
But the lesson that most impressed itself on Roosevelt was that it had taken the
Oregon,
steaming at high speed, a full 67 days to complete the 14,700-mile
journey around Cape Horn. American navalists and expansionists--and
Roosevelt was both--began clamoring for the construction of a canal
across Central America, one that, given the turbulent nature of
international politics, must be completely under U.S. control. Facing
large potential threats in the Atlantic and the Pacific, the U.S. had
no choice but to shorten the route between the East and West coasts.
The matter was urgent because
Roosevelt and his circle were not the only people who had discovered
the influence of sea power on world affairs. Mahan's lessons from
history had had an almost universal resonance. Under Kaiser Wilhelm II
and Admiral Alfred von Tirpitz, Germany was building a battle fleet as
large as the U.S. one and equally fast. France and Russia, now in
alliance, were also pouring resources into new construction, as were
Italy and Austria-Hungary in the Mediterranean. The most amazing
growth, from virtually nowhere, was that of the Japanese navy in the
Far East. And all these growing fleets caused the British to spend
unprecedented amounts on the Royal Navy in an effort to maintain its
centuries-old naval supremacy. The U.S. could not afford to slacken its
pace.
The U.S. navalists need not have
worried. Within a short while, in March 1901, Roosevelt was elected
Vice President under McKinley; six months later, following McKinley's
assassination, he was catapulted into the highest office. As early as
1902 he demonstrated the growing clout of the U.S. Navy during the
so-called Venezuelan crisis. Venezuela's feckless financial policies
and its refusal to pay international debts had led to a blockade of its
coastline by various European navies, notably Germany's. Urged on by
the nationalist wing of the U.S. press, Roosevelt had instructed Dewey,
now an admiral, to patrol with a large force in waters nearby,
ostensibly on seasonal fleet maneuvers but with an intent that was
clear to all.
It was a tactic that seemed to fit
perfectly with the President's motto, "Speak softly, but carry a big
stick." Whether it was fully true, as Roosevelt later claimed, that it
was U.S. sea power that compelled the Germans to back down, is open to
some doubt. But with a compromise debt settlement reached at the Hague,
it was becoming clear that the era of European interventions in the
western hemisphere had come to an end. Long an empty declaration, the
Monroe Doctrine, which had warned Europeans not to interfere in the
Americas, was now a reality as a result of American sea power.
But so, too, as the Latin American
states discovered to their dismay, was the Roosevelt Corollary to that
doctrine, which the President proclaimed in 1904. If we do not want
third powers to take action against wrongdoing regimes in our
hemisphere, the President stated, "then sooner or later we must keep
order ourselves." What that meant was that the U.S. was claiming for
itself the right to intervene in the affairs of hemispheric nations
when those nations aroused the displeasure of Washington.
It was not just the misbehavior of
Central and South American governments that concerned Roosevelt in this
volatile region. He was also eager to prevent any foreigners from
gaining a concession to build the canal that he wanted the U.S. to
build. When the Colombian government turned down a proposed deal for a
100-year lease of territory in its province of Panama, the President
threw his weight--and the weight of a naval landing party--in favor of
one of the perennial Panamanian uprisings aimed at gaining independence
from Colombia. Twelve days after Washington recognized the new nation
of Panama, in November 1903, it signed with deep satisfaction a canal
treaty with Panama that was identical to the one rejected by Colombia.
While the U.S. was secure now in its
Atlantic realms, it was being forced to increase its attention to China
and the Pacific. The U.S. had long possessed trading and missionary
interests in East Asia and now of course occupied the Philippines, so
it naturally had cruisers and gunboats in those waters. But it was not
the biggest player in the region. Russia, France and Britain had
significant battleship squadrons in the Far East. The fastest-growing
naval force of all belonged to Japan, which was increasingly suspicious
of Russia's creeping territorial controls in Manchuria. In February
1904, Japan launched a surprise attack on the Russian fleet anchored at
Port Arthur on the coast of China. The 20th century struggle for
dominance of East Asia had begun in earnest.
The Russo-Japanese War was another
gift from the gods to Roosevelt. He had long worried about czarist
ambitions in Asia, as he worried about German ambitions in the
Atlantic. He was full of admiration for the Japanese armed services as
they steadily vanquished the larger Russian armies on land and smashed
the Russian fleet in the epic battle of Tsushima in May 1905. But the
President did not want complete Japanese domination of the Far East
either, and so he actively lobbied both sides to turn to the peace
table. Since Britain was diplomatically allied to Japan, and France to
Russia, neither was an acceptable arbitrator. And the Kaiser's Germany
was trusted by no one. By default the U.S. became the natural mediator.
Roosevelt persuaded the two nations to send representatives to the U.S.
for negotiations to be conducted in Portsmouth, N.H., where he took the
deepest interest in cajoling, often bullying, the two belligerents into
ending the war. For his role, T.R. was awarded the 1906 Nobel Peace
Prize.
All the same, the world remained a
dangerous place. There were the German threat to France, the
Anglo-German rivalry in the North Sea, the Balkan tinderbox and the
unanswered question of Japan's ultimate ambitions. Roosevelt decided a
bold move was required to send a message that the U.S. was a global
player. In December 1907 he dispatched from Hampton Roads, Va., the
"Great White Fleet," consisting of all 16 of the U.S. Navy's modern
battleships. They were embarked on what would be a 46,000-mile,
14-month cruise around the world. Here was showing the flag, indeed.
Almost a century later, that voyage is still regarded as the apotheosis
of Roosevelt's belief in naval power as an instrument of national
policy. The stately procession across the Pacific and then through the
Indian Ocean, Suez Canal and Mediterranean before returning to the
Atlantic seaboard was an impressive logistical feat, even if it
confirmed to the U.S. Navy the limited endurance of the older
battleships and produced a remarkable number of desertions in
Australian ports. But the world public was not to know of that. A
million people had assembled in San Francisco harbor to watch the fleet
depart; half a million Australians greeted it in Sydney. Even the
anxiously prepared visit to Tokyo Bay had gone well.
A short while after the Great White
Fleet's return, Roosevelt relinquished the presidency. To his
successor, William Howard Taft, he had one message: Do not divide the
fleet. The Mahanian principle of concentrating the main battle fleet in
one theater remained in place. It would still be there in 1914 when the
Panama Canal, instigated by T.R., finally opened. Only during the
Second World War, when the U.S. Navy became the largest in the world,
would the U.S. possess a two-ocean fleet.
But the foundations of its maritime
supremacy had been laid, and firmly, by this most energetic of U.S.
Presidents. It is true that after 1909, the U.S. took a bit of a
breather in world affairs, retreating to the side of the stage as the
European crisis unfolded. But it never stopped building warships. And
the country would be summoned back to the center of international
politics in 1917. Despite the isolationist pressures of the interwar
years, the U.S. would never be able, or willing, to abandon its pivotal
role. The country's later trajectory would have made T.R. feel
justified, and proud. He had always been convinced that it was
impossible for the U.S. to avoid becoming the greatest world power of
the 20th century; the only choice was whether it would do so well or
poorly. And the trick was to turn the theory of Mahan's principles
about sea power into effective practice, for the furtherance of
American interests and values. No U.S. President did that better.
Kennedy is director of International Security Studies at Yale. His latest book is The Parliament of Man: The Past, Present and Future of the United Nations (Random House)
How To Shrink The World
• Roosevelt called building the Panama Canal "by far the most
important action" he had taken in foreign affairs. Why did he succeed
where others had failed? He made his own rules
1--CREATE A COUNTRY
Panama was a province of Colombia when
Theodore Roosevelt took up the idea of building a canal after a failed
attempt by France. When the Colombian government rejected a new treaty
allowing the U.S. to build a canal, Roosevelt became enraged. Soon
after, a group of Panamanian separatist leaders declared a revolution.
That same day, U.S. gunboats appeared off the coast to keep Colombia
from reclaiming its territory. Roosevelt vigorously denied that the
U.S. had fomented the revolution but defended his actions in
characteristic terms: "To have acted otherwise...would have been
betrayal of the interests of the United States."
2--GET THE BUGS OUT
The rain forests and squalid towns of
Panama were rife with diseases like malaria and yellow fever. As many
as 20,000 people died during the French effort to build a canal in the
late 1800s. But as a result of his work in Cuba after the
Spanish-American War, a tireless American doctor named William Gorgas
came to believe strongly in the new discovery that a specific mosquito
spread yellow fever. Overcoming doubters, he began a widespread
campaign of mosquito eradication and sanitation improvements. The death
rate among canal workers plummeted
3--CONSOLIDATE POWER
Initially, Congress created a
seven-person commission to oversee construction. After the first chief
engineer broke down under the stress of the job, Roosevelt sidestepped
the panel and gave total power to one man, Army Colonel George
Goethals. As absolute ruler of the Canal Zone, Goethals oversaw every
detail, from digging and building to resolving personal disputes among
workers.
4--MAKE THE DIRT FLY
At first, the Americans pursued the
failed French dream: a sea-level passage through the mountains and
jungles. In 1906 that plan was overruled in favor of damming the
Chagres River to create a vast inland lake that could be entered
through flights of locks at either end. That still meant cutting an
eight-mile trench through the mountains. Every rainy season, mudslides
wiped out months of work in a single moment.
5--RALLY THE TROOPS
In 1906 Roosevelt wanted to see the
colossal project for himself. His trip marked the first time a U.S.
President left the country while in office. To see conditions at their
worst, he went at the height of the rainy season. While touring, he
delighted workers by leaping aboard a 95-ton Bucyrus steam shovel and
grilling the operator about how it worked. The operator seized the
moment to ask for overtime pay.
6--LOCK AND LOAD
At 1,000 ft. long and 110 ft. wide,
the locks were built to handle the largest ships then planned. Even
though many modern ships are too big (the
Titanic would have fit; today's
Queen Mary 2 doesn't), the canal handled more than 14,000 transits in 2005, accounting for about 5% of world trade.
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