I was enjoying a perfectly delightful branzino at the Munich Security Conference last week, sandwiched between a former deputy secretary of state and an extremely charming lobbyist for Lockheed Martin, when the conversation took a distinctly unpleasant turn. Someone brought up Matt Duss. Senator Bernie Sanders’s former foreign policy adviser has been making the rounds lately, insisting that the Democratic Party needs a "reckoning" on Gaza, the influence of wealthy elites, and the unchecked application of American power. I nearly dropped my fork. It is always exhausting when the Left decides to weaponize morality against those of us who have to do the hard, grueling work of theorizing about global hegemony over a three-course lunch.
After a long, off-the-record walk through the Bavarian Alps with several defense contractors, I felt compelled to speak out. The progressive wing of the party is demanding a fundamental transformation of our national security apparatus, seemingly oblivious to the structural realities of Washington. When Duss and his ilk talk about "elites," they say it with a sneer. But who exactly do they think is keeping this rules-based international order afloat? Working-class voters? Plumbers do not write white papers on the strategic containment of the South China Sea. Baristas do not sit on the board of the Center for a New American Security. If we cede foreign policy to the masses, we risk losing the elegant, high-level consensus that allows us to fund proxy wars while still maintaining our Platinum Medallion status on Delta.
The crux of the Left’s current hysteria is Gaza. The civilian death toll is, of course, a deeply regrettable optical challenge for the administration. I have said as much on several MSNBC panels. But the progressives’ insistence on tying these casualties to "American power" and the weapons we explicitly sent there is entirely missing the point. The point of American power is not to produce flawless outcomes; the point of American power is to ensure that when a tragedy occurs, America is the one hosting the summit to discuss it. The Left’s demand for a "reckoning" threatens to dismantle the very institutions that allow us to express deep concern about the bombs we are actively manufacturing.
Matt Duss and his progressive cohorts seem particularly fixated on the role of "elites" in shaping these outcomes. They argue that a small, insulated group of wealthy individuals and corporate interests are driving a foreign policy that actively harms millions. To this, I can only say: yes, obviously. But have they considered how exhausting it is to be one of those elites? The sheer mental toll of having to periodically glance at a protest from the window of a private car is staggering. We are the ones bearing the psychological burden of empire, yet the Left acts as if the people living under the bombs are the only ones having a hard time.
I recently discussed this very paradox over espresso with a colleague who understands the delicate balance of international statecraft better than anyone in the Sanders camp.
If we allow basic human rights standards to dictate our foreign policy, we risk completely alienating the corporate partners who pay for our symposiums on basic human rights.
Arthur is exactly right. The progressive critique of the "blob"—the bipartisan foreign policy establishment—assumes that we are out of touch with the consequences of our decisions. Nothing could be further from the truth. Just last month, at an exclusive retreat in Aspen, I watched a four-star general shed a single, dignified tear while presenting a PowerPoint on acceptable collateral damage metrics. We feel the weight of these choices. We just prefer to feel them in rooms with vaulted ceilings and complimentary sparkling water. To demand that we "reckon" with our complicity is to demand that we feel bad about ourselves, which is historically not something the American empire is designed to do.
Furthermore, the Left’s hostility toward the defense industry is remarkably short-sighted. Without the generous philanthropic support of companies like Boeing and General Dynamics, where would the next generation of foreign policy thinkers come from? Who would sponsor the diversity-in-drone-strikes fellowships? Who would underwrite the cocktail hours where young diplomats learn how to pivot seamlessly from discussing famine to networking for a gig at a private equity firm? A reckoning on American power would pull the rug out from under thousands of hard-working consultants whose only crime was believing they could do well by doing geopolitical harm.
It is time for the Left to grow up. Statecraft is not a campus protest; it is a serious business conducted by serious people in bespoke suits. If Matt Duss and the Bernie Sanders faction want to change how American power is wielded, they shouldn’t be asking for a reckoning. They should do what the rest of us do: secure a seven-figure grant from a defense contractor, launch a boutique advisory firm, and politely pitch their ideas at the next Georgetown dinner party. Until then, I suggest they leave the heavy lifting to those of us who know which fork to use for the branzino.