One pervasive, troublesome feature of U.S. foreign policy is the tendency to view all countries as more or less coherent national entities. American officials and opinion leaders are “map centric.” If they look at a map and see an area bounded by solid lines with a large star somewhere in the center to mark the capital city, they assume it is a real country with a national identity. And the usual procedure is to regard the supposed leader, whether his title is president, king or some other honorific, residing in that capital as someone who exercises authority throughout the country.
But in many parts of the world, the Western concept of a nation-state is extremely weak. The primary loyalty of an inhabitant is more likely to be to an ethnic group, tribe, clan or religion than to a country. U.S. officials appear to have difficulty grasping that point, and as a result, the United States too often barges into fragile societies, disrupting what modest order may exist. America is the bull (or more accurately, the eagle) in the china shop, flailing about, breaking delicate political and social connections and disrupting domestic balances of power. Washington’s ambitious agenda typically is to try to forge or strengthen a cohesive national identity in client states, even when the real power and cohesion lies at the local or subregional level. The results have ranged from disappointing to calamitous.
U.S. interventions in Bosnia, Iraq and Libya illustrate Washington’s ill-advised approach and its consequences. And there are growing indications that the Obama administration is on the brink of making a similar blunder in Syria.
Even as U.S. officials watched the breakup of Yugoslavia in the early 1990s, they insisted that the most dysfunctional of the successor states, Bosnia-Herzegovina, remain intact. That obsession, symbolized by the imposed Dayton Accords ending the civil war there has prolonged the agony of an inherent failed state. Bosnia is little more than a forced association of three bitterly antagonistic ethno-religious factions. When armed conflict began, Muslims made up a little over 40 percent of the population, Serbs constituted about one-third, and the remainder were primarily ethnic Croats.
The only faction that favored—and continues to favor—an intact Bosnia was the Muslim community. By having a plurality of the population, Muslims believed they would control a unitary state. Serbs fought hard to achieve independence for their Republika Srpska, those (largely contiguous) portions of Bosnia in which their ethnic bloc had a large presence. Bosnian Croats fought to break away and merge with their ethnic brethren across the border in Croatia.
Although Dayton ended the bloodshed, Bosnia is no closer today than it was in 1995 to being a functioning nation. The national government exercises little power and attracts few supporters. Most mundane decisions are made by two subnational entities, the Republika Srpska and the Bosnian-Croat Federation, while an International High Representative makes decisions on important, contentious matters. Bosnia is kept on economic life support by U.S. and other foreign-aid programs, and ethnic-nationalist parties continue to dominate the politics of both subnational entities. The desire for secession remains strong in the Republika Srpska, inhibited only by the realization that the Western powers would again intervene militarily in the event of another secessionist bid. Nearly eighteen years after Dayton, Bosnia is a political mess and an economic basket case. That problem developed and continues to fester because the United States and its allies steadfastly refused to recognize demographic and political realities and accept that Bosnia is not a viable nation-state.