The power of allied strength

“The history of all coalitions,” wrote Winston Churchill in his biography of the Duke of Marlborough, “is a tale of the reciprocal complaints of allies.” Of course, Churchill led one of the most important coalitions in world history—the coalition of allies that defeated Adolf Hitler.

These past several weeks recall Churchill’s observation. America’s allies felt a combination of surprise, horror, and outrage at the Biden administration’s catastrophically mismanaged Afghanistan withdrawal. The White House undertook it with little consultation with our allies, let alone coordination—even though many NATO partners also still had troops and vulnerable civilians in the country. More than 1,000 NATO soldiers had given their lives in Afghanistan in support of America’s war. British MP and Afghan War veteran Tom Tugendhadt summed up this fury when he took to the floor of the House of Commons to denounce Biden’s betrayal as “shameful” and warn that the U.K. could no longer rely on the U.S. as its principal ally.

Yet like many complicated relationships, London’s ire of a month ago soon gave way to a renewed embrace of Washington D.C., brokered by Australia, provoked by the common threat from Beijing. The recently announced Australia-United Kingdom-United States tripartite agreement (“AUKUS”) promises deepened technological, intelligence, and nuclear cooperation. Its centerpiece will be eight nuclear-powered attack submarines for the Australian Navy, built by the U.S. in partnership with the U.K. Its cause can be summed up in one word: China.

Not since the Soviet Union has there been a geopolitical adversary who simultaneously threatens our security and affronts our values. Just consider the Chinese Communist Party’s aggressive bid for dominance in the Indo-Pacific and its appalling repression of its own people, especially religious persecution, against Uighur Muslims, Tibetan Buddhists, and house-church Christians.

In the case of AUKUS, the friendship and shared values among the three Anglosphere nations buttressed our mutual interests in countering China’s growing menace. Australian Prime Minister Scott Morrison, a devout evangelical Christian, initiated and brokered the deal because he made the strategic assessment that the threat of China’s predatory international behavior eclipsed the benefits of Australia’s close commercial ties with China. Prime Minister Boris Johnson made a similar calculation, fueled by his hope to bolster the U.K.’s international influence post-Brexit.

Desperate for a foreign policy success after its Afghanistan debacle, the Biden administration deserves credit for this agreement. Its merits are many, including strengthening the coalition to counter China, cementing the United Kingdom as a strategic player in the Indo-Pacific (despite the U.K. itself being a distant spin of the globe from the Pacific), solidifying Australia on the American side against China, and exploiting the Chinese Navy’s comparative weakness in anti-submarine warfare.

What’s not to like? Well, plenty, if you are French.

The nuclear submarine deal entailed Australia canceling its $66 billion contract with France to provide Canberra diesel submarines. Paris, in a fit of performative pique unprecedented in the annals of Franco-American relations, responded by recalling its ambassadors to Washington and Canberra, cancelling a gala dinner marking 240 years of Franco-American cooperation, and leveling a fusillade of insults at all three Anglosphere countries, including the one guaranteed to cause the most anguish to the White House: comparing Biden to Donald Trump.

Given France’s sanctimony and spotty record in global affairs, it is tempting to dismiss French gripes as mere Gallic theater. That is short-sighted. America is better with France as an ally than without it. Beginning with France’s support for the U.S. in our War of Independence, to intelligence sharing in the Cold War that enabled our remarkable covert action to sabotage Soviet theft of American technology, to a French drone strike in Mali this summer that liquidated the terrorist leader responsible for killing four American soldiers in 2017, France has been a worthy if not altogether steadfast partner.

Geopolitics are not immune from the hard choices of a fallen world. But, for the United States, the only thing worse than fighting alongside allies is trying to fight without them.

For Americans who still doubt the value of alliances, consider it from Beijing’s vantage point: the CCP spends an excessive amount of time and energy trying to split us from our allies. Considering that China’s closest partners are, arguably, North Korea and Pakistan, one can see why Xi Jinping would resent U.S. bonds with Australia, Japan, and South Korea, and growing partnerships with emerging powers such as India and Indonesia. On that alone, Xi Jinping is correct: America’s allies remain a source of our strength.