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Opposition Labour Party leader Ed Miliband gives a speech at a Labour Party general election campaign rally in Glasgow on May 1, 2015. Image Credit: AFP

Picture a country heading for elections in the midst of an existential debate about its role in the world; a country run by a right-wing government challenged by a left-wing party and insurgent political forces lurking in the background. If you are thinking Britain, you are right. But in a way, this was also France in 2012. There was much talk then of changing course with a “progressive” foreign policy anchored in “internationalism”. Francois Hollande, the socialist candidate, vowed to wind down France’s military engagement in Afghanistan as a way of correcting Nicolas Sarkozy’s perceived kneejerk pro-Americanism.

But in the end, once in office, Hollande’s administration found it could not get ahead on many international questions, from the Sahel to Syria, without having the US on its side. And it also found that a troubling impediment to efficient foreign policy strategy was not US imperialist hubris, but the perception that Americans were somehow disengaging from the world.

You hear two recurring comments about UK foreign policy these days. First, it is seen to have retreated into insular reflexes, allowing itself to be missing in action on many issues, which is damaging to its influence and image. Second, everyone is confused about how that might change after the general election. The UK matters in global affairs. Just like France, it is no longer a world power, but it has a permanent seat on the UN security council (since 1945, the sole institution ultimately responsible for international peace and security). It is one of the two dominant European military powers — a key ally in transatlantic structures, which will not be taken seriously if Britain is a bystander.

The week before last, Ed Miliband gave his take on what a Labour foreign policy would look like. His speech at Chatham House answered some questions, but not all. It was reassuring to hear about his attachment to the European Union (EU), in stark contrast to how David Cameron has antagonised European partners over his plan for a referendum. Combined with France’s economic weakness, this has contributed to Germany’s Angela Merkel becoming the one person to turn to when strategic European issues are at hand.

In Europe, sitting in the back seat has a real cost: You cannot possibly lead from there. Miliband says he wants to return Britain to the forefront. But he struggles to define how. Parts of his speech made me think of Obama’s Nobel Peace Prize speech back in 2009, when he attempted to define what might justify war. Just like Obama, Miliband may have surprised some by not playing to pacifist-leaning constituencies. But it was fascinating also that the word “Iraq”, along with the word “mistake”, came up within the first two minutes of his 23-minute speech.

Beating the Labour brow over Iraq makes sense, but in itself isn’t a policy. Twelve years on, the legacy of this war certainly weighs immensely on public debate in Britain, like a dark shadow. Much like Obama’s America, after Iraq and Afghanistan the UK has suffered from something akin to the ‘Vietnam syndrome’ of the 1970s. I would argue that the sole defining feature of current British attitudes towards the outside world remains the Iraq war.

Sentiment of isolationism

Much of this is understandable: Iraq has fed a sentiment of isolationism and distrust towards those who advocate any intervention, however humanitarian. The world out there being so complicated, it is tempting to just stop wanting to meddle, or even to contemplate the gravity of some events. An example: In Syria, Bashar Al Assad continues to use chemical weapons, but it seems the overarching reaction now is to pretend this is not going on.

Beating the Labour brow over Iraq makes sense, but in itself is not a policy

It is no coincidence that France and Germany, the two European powers that opposed the Iraq war, have seemed much more active than the UK in some crises (Ukraine) or militarily with some foreign threats (French troops engaged in the Sahel against terrorist groups). Foreign policy cannot be reduced to the ability to use military power. Nor can it be defined by kneejerk reactions amounting to doing just the opposite of what you attempted last time.

None of today’s anti-interventionists would argue that standing idle during the Rwandan genocide was the right thing to do. Yet, that choice had its roots in a gruelling desire to avoid a repetition of the disastrous 1992 intervention in Somalia. And not doing much about Syria, after the trauma of the Iraq war, has allowed terrorist networks to prosper and dramatic refugee crises to affect Europe.

Miliband is right to point out that national security does not stop at national borders and that it is useless to hunker down and hope that far away failed states will not affect us. But the mantra of multilateralism that he rightly promotes is not in itself a solution — it is a process. And calling for better planning and exit strategies is not enough to define what kind of event, exactly, would warrant action.

At least Miliband has killed the notion that the UK may become, under his watch, a kind of Singapore on the edge of the Atlantic, a financial platform devoted just to trade and preserving its internal stability. His statement about Nato needing to “send the signals of deterrence required to prevent the line of confrontation being moved further West”, in the face of “Russian aggression in Ukraine”, came down on the side of welcome realism.

The Labour leader is right to criticise the lack of post-conflict policy in Libya and to avoid blaming all past western interventions for the refugee crises in the Mediterranean.

Miliband has sent out a signal that he will work “with allies, but not for them”, and focus on Europe. Distancing himself from Tony Blair’s poodle attitude towards George Bush is understandable, but it is a posture, not a comprehensive statement on transatlantic relations in the 21st century. Europe’s core nations will struggle to weigh in on anything without first answering that question — because their power has become so relative. It is a lesson learnt in Paris, but it is still pending in London.

— Guardian News & Media Ltd