When did the US become a world power?
An argument for 1898, not 1917.
In 1823, during President Monroe's seventh annual message to Congress, the aptly named Monroe Doctrine was announced. “The American continents,” he asserted, “by the free and independent condition which they have assumed and maintain, are henceforth not to be considered as subjects for future colonization by any European powers. . .” This doctrine was—on no uncertain terms—a declaration that although the US was not currently strong enough to throw the Europeans out of the Western Hemisphere, that eventually they would, and after that the Europeans would not be welcome back. This was America’s first claim to regional hegemony. In 1898, with the Spanish-American War, they finally made good on that promise.
1898 was a turning point for the United States and its stature in the international system. Through rigorous analysis and use of International Relations theory and explanation of events leading up to, during and following the Spanish-American War, it will be proven that in 1898 the US became a regional hegemon in the Western Hemisphere, furthermore extending its territories halfway across the world, and—in doing so—became a world power for the first time in its history. By incorporating the theoretical lens of Offensive Realism, which focuses on military might and hard power in order to attain ‘great power’ status, the US will be shown to be a burgeoning world power, capable of affecting other states around the globe. Although the US’s entry into World War I in 1917 further solidified their place as a world power by defeating another growing regional hegemon (Imperial Germany), it is more accurate to conclude that 1898 was the first case of consolidated authority and a new foreign policy outlook: Americans and their leaders now acted with a renewed sense of self-confidence and belief that they could shape the international system according to their own values.
The beginning of this essay will first seek to provide clarity and define the term ‘world power’. Second, it will examine the underpinnings of John Mearsheimer’s offensive realism. Next, while incorporating offensive realism, a discussion of the formation of the New Navy will be discussed. Following this, the conflict of the Spanish-American war will be examined in its initial phase and outcome. Pen-ultimately, offensive realism will then be used to synthesise the result of America as a new world power following this war. Finally, a lesser discussion of 1917 will be addressed, still incorporating theory.
Definitions
World powers—also labelled ‘major states,’ ‘great powers,’ or ‘first-rate powers’—are generally seen as central to international relations and politics. While ‘world’ is quite axiomatic, the definition of ‘world power’ leans largely on how one subjectively defines ‘power’: is it military capability (hard power), economy, diplomatic standing, or perhaps even cultural influence (soft power)? Paul Kennedy, for example, in his book The Rise and Fall of Great Powers, asserts that great power status of a state is based on its military and economic capabilities—the measure of which is always relative to other states in the international system. On the other hand, rather than define the term, Kenneth Waltz likens great powers to an “economic oligopoly”—that is, we supposedly know a world power when we see one. While all these classifications are potentially valid, for the purposes of this essay and its scope, world or great powers will be defined by John Mearsheimer’s assertion that a world power has two goals: to attain regional hegemony and to take out all peer-competitors. To achieve such eminence, a state must have relative military capabilities—something the United States sought for before the Spanish-American war with the New Navy. John Mearsheimer’s offensive realism theory provides a straight-forward and clear-cut explanation for world power, but in order to use it the theory behind it must first be explained.
Offensive realism, the brainchild of John Mearsheimer, is a sub-theory of the larger theory of structural realism. Aside from being ontologically and epistemologically positivist, offensive realism provides five main assumptions about the structure of international politics. The first is that states are the primary and principal actors in the international system, and that no higher power sits above those states. In short, offensive realism, and structural realism, contend that states exist in anarchic system—there is no “9-1-1” that administrates the sovereign states in the international system. This anarchy ensures that the state is the de facto highest authority, because it has more influence than any other agent in international relations; its sovereignty is paramount to maintaining this fact. Following this, assumption two asserts that all states have some offensive military capability, although the strength of this capability may range from state to state. The third assumption assumes that no state can be certain of another state’s intentions. In explaining the reasoning behind this, Mearsheimer noted, “It is very hard to discern intentions, because intentions are in the heads of other people, and you can’t see them, and you can’t measure them.” Although Mearsheimer admits that states may at times be able to determine immediate intentions of another state, they can never know their intentions in the future. The fourth supposition of offensive realism is that the primary motivation of states is to survive, because without survival, no other goals can be achieved. Furthermore, in pursuit of this survival, states will act rationally to maintain their place in the system. This is the fifth and final assumption.
Under these five assumptions, offensive realism concludes that three forms of behaviour are exhibited by states: fear, self-help and consolidation of power. First, states are fearful of one another because they can never be sure of another’s intentions. Moreover, there is always a possibility that another state within close proximity has both a large offensive capability with unknown, and possibly malign, intentions. States also fear one another because if they “get into trouble” with a larger, more powerful state, there is no aforementioned “9-1-1” to help them in an anarchic system. The result is a system where states are in constant trepidation about states around them, which leads to self-help: states cannot rely on any other state, and must look after only themselves. Another important realist concept arises here: the security dilemma. In maintaining self–help, states realise that to ensure their own survival—to put it in colloquial Mearsheimer terms—is to be “the biggest and baddest dude on the block.” In other words, states aggressively build up their military capabilities in aspiration to be the hegemon of the world system. The international system produces “powerful incentives for states to look for opportunities to gain power at the expense of rivals, and to take advantage of those situations when the benefits outweigh the costs.” But as Mearsheimer notes, it is virtually impossible to be a total global hegemon. Instead, states are left with the option to become a regional hegemon—to dominate one region of the globe.
Ultimately, offensive realism concludes that the best way to survive the international system is to become a regional hegemon, and, moreover, to ensure there are no peer competitors, bent on becoming a regional hegemon too. The reason behind this is “freedom to roam.” By safeguarding a state’s own region, and making sure no other state has control over any other region, it gives near unlimited power to that state to roam around the globe, because there are no threats domestically to be fearful about. Essentially, the best way to survive is to become a world power—which requires a large military and the means to use it. By the end of 1898, the US had secured itself as a regional hegemon with no peer competitors, and its territories in south-east Asia enabled freedom to roam. But before this, the US had to first ensure a strong offensive capability.
Contextual History
During the 1880s, the United States Navy was, for all practical purposes, non-existent and its war potential was effectively nil. Due to the exertions and immense expenditure incurred during the Civil War, the Navy was soon neglected. Vessels were allowed to slowly decay on the stocks, and the naval force was lackadaisically permitted to ebb gradually but surely with “no sufficient grants being made for its maintenance or extension.” This put America and its security in a perilous position. Inadequate as a means for warfare, its pitiful existence amassed reactions varying from distress and indignation to direct derision. A representative from Massachusetts, John D. Long, likened the navy’s vessels to an "alphabet of floating washtubs" which the American public considered a "marine Falstaffian burlesque.” Representative John Thomas of Illinois further noted that it was largely "worn out, slow in speed, feeble in offensive power, even in the power of running away from danger.” Indeed, some inferenced that it had become a “cruel national joke” that the U.S.S Tallapoosa had been supposedly run down by a coal barge. Statements such as these rose the sense of anxiety and fear among the public and the government of vulnerability. Anarchy made way for a conscious push for a stronger, more capable navy.
Even from outside of the US, insults added to injury. In an issue of the London Times—the most prominent newspaper in England—the following statement was published: “We have a navy which is in being; the Yankees have a navy which is on paper. If the Yankees want to fight with us, we will be charitable to them and send over the old ferryboats of the Thames River to meet such of the Yankee navy as has really been built.” Threats from foreign navies, especially the frequently more bellicose Great Britain, created even more unrest. Many pro-Navy supporters pointed to the relative weakness in comparison to France, Germany and, of course, Great Britain; Americans were agitated by the idea of foreign navies invading their exposed coastal cities without the ability for US (at least) defence or at most retaliation on foreign soil. Whether or not the US was actually in imminent danger is impossible to answer except in hindsight—the Americans could not be sure of any state’s intentions, especially such a major power as Great Britain. The U.S., then, began a concerted effort, fuelled by the security dilemma.
A number of foreign policy fauxpas in which the U.S. was unable to intervene in conflicts deemed of national (and regional) security exacerbated the American naval inferiority complex. One such case was the Peruvian-Chilean conflict, also known as the War of the Pacific. Despite being much younger, poorer nations than the mighty US, both Peruvian and Chilean navies were stronger than the US Navy. Coming out on top of the conflict, the Chilean Navy managed to eclipse the weak US and became the foremost naval power in the Pacific Southeast. As described by the prominent naval historian, Lisle Rose, “as late as 1879, the U.S. fleet was so inferior to that of Chile that Washington could not intervene on the behalf of friendly Peru when the two Latin countries went to war.” This caused anxiety among many in the U.S.: Chile was the only nation in the Western Hemisphere whose ownership of a few British-built ironclads might imaginably facilitate a potential peer-competitor challenge to America or perhaps even attack her exposed coasts.
It was made clear then that naval prowess was the way forward for the country, allowing maximisation of security and the ability to take a more aggressive foreign policy role. "What do the nations of the earth care about your moral power after you leave your own shores?" asked Senator Charles W. Jones of Florida in 1884. "All that they do respect when the emergency arises is a decent display of public force." Arguments representing the growing support for a powerful navy among both the public and the government were beginning to be made in the U.S. Congress in 1885-1886, but they faced opposition from financial and domestic concerns. Only until the presidency of Benjamin Harrison in 1889 was any significant action taken. Harrison, committed to the notion that U.S. power was directly tied to the strength and size of the navy, lent presidential clout to expansion. Harrison, however, appeared to be no offensive realist—his policy of naval expansion was centred around defence and the economy: “It is not our purpose to match the great navies of Europe. We may safely keep our register of vessels well within theirs; but we do not intend again to leave the sea.” Nevertheless, in the short period of four years, Harrison, with the help of his then Secretary of the Navy, Benjamin F. Tracey, added nineteen new cruisers to the fleet. Not only that, but in a report from Tracey to Harrison in 1892:
“There are also under construction the following vessels, on which rapid progress is being made: Oregon, Indiana, Massachusetts, Columbia, Minneapolis, Maine, Texas, Puritan, Olympia, Amphitrite, Monadnock, Terror, Cincinnati, Raleigh, Ram, Marblehead, Castine, Torpedo Boat Number 2. Making eighteen vessels in process of construction and certain to be completed…”
(Of special importance were the new battleships, named after states, which combined the heaviest firepower and the heaviest defence available.)
The New Navy was now well and truly on its way, empowering the United States with a newfound military capability. Arguably essential to the continuation of the New Navy was Arthur T. Mahan, without who’s seminal work, The Influence of Sea Power upon History: 1660-1783, no discussion of naval expansion would be complete. In assessing the history of seventeenth and eighteenth century naval warfare, Mahan argued that having the largest and best equipped naval fleet was vital to preserving a nation’s power. Mahan was a great strategist and naval publicist, and his thesis enforced the movement towards naval expansion.
The failures of the 1880s spurred further ship-building and expansion throughout the 1890s beyond Harrison. As Sir William H. White recalls in 1904, “In 1895, two more battleships were authorized (the "Kearsarge" and "Kentucky"), in which the novel and much-debated feature of "double-storied" turrets was introduced. In 1896, three vessels of the "Alabama" class were authorized; in 1898, the construction of three others was approved by Congress.” These new ships, especially the battleships, not only maintained U.S. security domestically, but also sustained it abroad.
This New Navy was achieved through the anarchic state of the international system. The United States’ lack of naval power before 1890 caused an atmosphere of fear. This fear was one of anxiety over potential attacks from more powerful foreign nations, causing a major security dilemma. Without offensive, or even defensive capability, the U.S. was vulnerable. Perhaps their discomfort was unwarranted, but they could never truly know the intentions of a powerful state like Great Britain. They did not want another 1812. The dramatic surge in offensive capability allowed the U.S. to now not only affect its hemisphere economically. The first test of this was the Spanish-American War. Regardless of whether or not the New Navy was intended to be used for defence or offence initially, Senator Samuel Bell Maxey of Texas puts it best in 1887: "What nation ever became a first-class power without a Navy?"
The Spanish-American War
Offensive realism proposes that world powers attempt to expand only when opportunities arise. At 21:40 on February 15, 1898, the U.S. was handed one such opportunity when the U.S. battleship Maine exploded in Havana harbour. By February 21st, a U.S. naval court of inquiry was assembled to ascertain the cause of the unfortunate explosion. One month later, it found that the Maine was destroyed when an underwater mine had been detonated, igniting parts of the forward magazines. The act, in all probability, had been done by unknown assailants at a time when Spanish-American tensions were unnaturally high due to a period of Cuban colonial rebellion. Under massive public pressure, the United States declared war on Spain on April 25, 1898. “Remember the Maine” soon became a common call to arms and the U.S. was ready to meet it, mobilising its offensive capability: the New Navy.
The United States always had its eye on Cuba, and not only in the “Manifest Destiny” sense; Cuba was also one of the last bastions of European colonial power. Expansionists like the aforementioned Mahan and Senator Herny Cabot saw significance in Cuba’s strategic value, especially its proximity to the Panama Canal. Through publications like the Atlantic Monthly, they observed:
-Whether you like it or not, Americans should look abroad
-Hawaii and the future of our Naval Power are related.
-Naval Power is what makes a nation great.
-Cuba must be an American colony. If we cannot buy it, we shall take it by force.
Similarly, newly elected Assistant Secretary of the Navy and hard-line naval expansionist Theodore Roosevelt began sounding off on the need for Cuba. Within a week of taking office, Roosevelt alerted McKinley to the possible trouble with Cuba in a memo. The potential for conflict was ramping up due to a naval expansionist agenda, engendered by the public, the press and government officials, perpetuated by the realist and rational urge to expand and survive.
Humanitarian intervention found place in reasoning for interfering as well. There was supposedly genuine sympathy for the plight of the Cuban people amongst both the public and on Capitol Hill. U.S. intervention, on humanitarian grounds, would bring about Cuban independence and the end to dreadful colonial rule. When, finally, McKinley decided on war, he did so reluctantly, and humanitarian reasoning loomed large in both his rhetoric and his rationale. Despite this, there is no doubt that there was a clear opportunity to power maximise. As Alexia Heraclides contends, “The uprising in Cuba and the slipping away of the Spanish overseas empire in the two great oceans provided the US with an unprecedented opportunity. From such a perspective there are no accidents in history; ‘great nations’ seek opportunities to symbolize their great power status and deliberately propagate greatness.” Offensive realist assumptions hold true.
But first the U.S. attempted a more peaceful resolution. For years the U.S. had sought to buy the island of Cuba from Spain, in the typical American fashion of kicking European powers out of their hemisphere. After two attempts—one from the American Bank Syndicate in 1897 and another from President McKinley in 1898—a historic truth prevailed: Spain was not willing to sell. The Cuban insurrection was very close to being quashed in 1898, and after the explosion of the Maine, any efforts to avoid war were fruitless.
The United States Navy was by all means far superior to the opposing Spanish Navy. While the U.S. had made conscious efforts to build a respectable, viable and capable naval force, unfortunately Spain did not have a clear program of naval construction, or an adequately funded and centralised fleet. While official authorities in Spain fabricated the combat power of the Navy, real estimates show that the U.S. boasted 6 battleships, 2 armoured cruisers, 10 protected cruisers and a number of gunboats. Spain, in the other hand, had 5 cruisers, a few destroyers, and some lesser craft. The U.S. had, thanks to the two decades before, the larger offensive military capability.
The first action of the war took place in the Pacific and the Far-East. An attack on Manila in the Philippines had long been contemplated as part of contingency plans for war with Spain because it would be a diversion from attacks in the Caribbean and Cuba. The Philippines was also low in the long list of priorities for Spain and Minister Bermejo—after all, Cuba was closer. The result was that on May 1st, Commodore George Dewey found an ill-prepared Spanish Squadron in Manila Bay. On May 3rd, newspapers in the U.S. announced the Maine had been avenged, and the battle had led Dewey to victory over the Spanish fleet. Having accepted the surrender of the Spanish Admiral Mintijo, he lacked forces to take Manila, and on May 4th President McKinley ordered troops to the Philippines to occupy Manila after a divinely inspired prayer to God which told him to protect and instruct the Filipinos.
In the Atlantic, the Spanish Squadron commanded by Admiral Cervera managed to slip into the harbour of Santiago, past American ships. A few days later, an American offensive began from the port of Daquirí, 17 miles from Santiago. As the U.S. secured victory inland at San Juan, Cervera attempted escape, only to be defeated as he left port on July 3rd. On June 16th, the Spanish agreed to unconditional surrender in Santiago.
Finally, on December 10, 1898, the Treaty of Paris was signed, marking both an end to the reign of old colonial empires in the Western Hemisphere and the beginning of a new world power. The outcome, as Rear Admiral Miguel A. Fernandez jokes was, “akin to a scene in a Woody Allan movie in which, after his divorce, a man observes to his friend: ‘I have come to an agreement with my wife: she gets everything.’ …the United States was the wife.” Fernandez is right: in the peace deal, the U.S. took the Philippines and Guam in the Pacific, and in the Caribbean, Cuba and Puerto Rico. In acquiring these territories, specifically in the Caribbean, the U.S. became the first regional hegemon in modern history.
Offensive Realism Applied
No event validates the effects of U.S. naval expansion on U.S. foreign policy better than the outbreak and outcome of the Spanish-American War. While the U.S. began to build its New Navy, the Spanish American War proved to the world—especially the European powers—that the United States was a third-rate former colonial power no longer, but rather an aggressive, burgeoning great power that must be taken into consideration in future conflicts. As before mentioned, great powers try to expand when opportunities occur, yet they will do so only when the relative benefits distinctly outweigh the risk and costs. Although the U.S. did not have some grand strategy to become a world power, with a flourishing navy created through security dilemma and lack of surety about rival state intentions, the U.S. saw Cuba as a clear opportunity (as Spain’s military capability was diminished) to expand and control the Western Hemisphere in an anarchic system, perhaps unwittingly becoming a regional hegemon in the process.
The importance of the Spanish American War is not restricted to 1898. If indeed as this essay is proposing, the U.S. became a world power in 1898, surely the U.S. would continue to exhibit great power behaviour, ensuring its hegemony and freedom to roam? Fortunately, the statistics back this up. According to Fareed Zakaria, “the United States had 22 opportunities to expand between 1865 and 1889, but it only actually acquired new territory in six of these. In contrast, between 1898 and 1908, the United States expanded 25 times when presented with 32 opportunities.” This is a marked change. When the U.S. managed to defeat Spain for regional hegemony of the Western Hemisphere, it gained access to the rest of the world; the right to roam was enabled. Moreover, territorial acquisition in the Pacific extended the United States’ reach—the Philippines and Guam provided strategic naval bases to roam the seas. Undoubtedly, the U.S. had entered the world stage as a great power in and after 1898.
On April 6th, 1917, the United States entered World War I. Although Wilson had publicly maintained a neutral position for the first three years, holding that this was a European war not to be interfered with, many of his counsellors disagreed. Firmly anti-German and “realistic”, many—aside from William Jennings Bryan—were certain that German economic and territorial expansionism would ultimately threaten United States security and hegemony. In typical fashion, Wilsonian rhetoric in entering the war told of saving democracy, yet realist assumptions point to anything but. As Imperial Germany marched through Europe, it soon seemed inevitable that they would win and control regional hegemony. In declaring war, the U.S. challenged a fellow peer-competitor, eventually silencing the threat.
The U.S. solidified its places as a world power in 1917 and after the war. It showed that it was not willing to allow other powers attain regional hegemony. In Mearsheimer terms, the U.S. was a greater power in 1917 than in 1898 because it had already attained regional hegemony, and, moreover, taken out a peer-competitor. Yet, when 1898 occurred, the U.S. also fulfilled the realist definition of a world power, as there was a lack of peer-competitors. This essay has focused its efforts unmistakably on 1898, as it is more accurate to say that the U.S. became a world power then.
Conclusion
This essay has proved that the U.S. became a world power in 1898 through the definition posed by the international relations theory Offensive Realism. Although in 1917 the United States took out a potential peer-competitor in Imperial Germany, it is more accurate to say that the U.S. initially became a world power when it obtained regional hegemony and had no peer-competitors due to lack thereof. While it has focused its scope first on the construction of the New Navy (America’s offensive capability), and second on the opportunity and result of the Spanish-American War, as well as both their relation to offensive realism, it has often glossed over many aspects of the time period. It leaves out aspects of the economy, diplomatic ties, and the inner workings of politics on foreign policy decision making in the United States government. It has done this not in dismissal of these important factors, but to focus clearly and lucidly on the aspects supportive of the underlying thesis and theory: offensive realism. If ever it has discussed the public or governmental sentiment from within the state—pro-expansionist or not—it has done so in within the confines of overt pressure from an anarchic state structure. Offensive realism does not integrate specifics of a state’s inner workings. Instead, it is a theory of anarchic system; a system that favours hard power, causing the United States to take action through military spending and expansion.
Furthermore, this essay does not seek to argue that offensive realism is the only way to view the United States’ rise to power. Various other lenses may be equally as useful. However, the specific case study of American rise to great power status through the explanatory underpinnings of offensive realism cannot be more explicit in its conclusions: the United States rose to world power status through a consolidation and expansion of offensive military capability, allowing it to opportunistically and rationally depose Spain (the last of the European powers in the hemisphere) in Cuba, somewhat inadvertently attaining regional hegemony in the process. This has been demonstrated by employing the realist assumptions of fear, self-help, survival, failure to predict intentions, security dilemma and rational, opportunistic power maximisation. The United States was rightfully fearful of its place in the system in the 1880s. With barely any naval capability, and no certain concept of the intentions of greater naval and offensively capable powers, it pursued the clearest way to survival: building a large, capable New Navy. Moreover, when opportunity to secure its own region of the globe, it took it in the Spanish-American War. This war made good on the promise to eventually remove the European nations from their sphere of influence. The U.S. then found itself in the unique position of attaining regional hegemony with no fellow peer-competitors in their hemisphere, not to mention the globe. It is clear, then, that by 1898 the U.S., under offensive realist assumptions, had become a world power.
