🚀 go-pugleaf

Condi understands what democratic peace is and what it means.
Libs dont. Or more accurately, dont want to.

The world wont wait for them to get it, it didnt wait before. It wont
start now. 
Democracy is spreading across the globe like a wildfire now.
Here is the proof........
http://www.hawaii.edu/powerkills/DP.CLOCK.HTM




http://tokyo.usembassy.gov/e/p/tp-20051212-15.html

Promoting Freedom Only Realistic Path to Security, Rice Says

The Promise of Democratic Peace:
Why Promoting Freedom Is the Only Realistic Path to Security

By Condoleezza Rice
U.S. Secretary of State

Soon after arriving at the State Department earlier this year, I hung
a portrait of Dean Acheson in my office. Over half a century ago, as
America sought to create the world anew in the aftermath of World War
II, Acheson sat in the office that I now occupy. And I hung his
picture where I did for a reason.

Like Acheson and his contemporaries, we live in an extraordinary time
- one in which the terrain of international politics is shifting
beneath our feet and the pace of historical change outstrips even the
most vivid imagination. My predecessor's portrait is a reminder that
in times of unprecedented change, the traditional diplomacy of crisis
management is insufficient. Instead, we must transcend the doctrines
and debates of the past and transform volatile status quos that no
longer serve our interests. What is needed is a realistic statecraft
for a transformed world.

President Bush outlined the vision for it in his second inaugural
address: "It is the policy of the United States to seek and support
the growth of democratic movements and institutions in every nation
and culture, with the ultimate goal of ending tyranny in our world."
This is admittedly a bold course of action, but it is consistent with
the proud tradition of American foreign policy, especially such recent
presidents as Harry Truman and Ronald Reagan. Most important: Like the
ambitious policies of Truman and Reagan, our statecraft will succeed
not simply because it is optimistic and idealistic but also because it
is premised on sound strategic logic and a proper understanding of the
new realities we face.

Our statecraft today recognizes that centuries of international
practice and precedent have been overturned in the past 15 years.
Consider one example: For the first time since the Peace of Westphalia
in 1648, the prospect of violent conflict between great powers is
becoming ever more unthinkable. Major states are increasingly
competing in peace, not preparing for war. To advance this remarkable
trend, the United States is transforming our partnerships with nations
such as Japan and Russia, with the European Union, and especially with
China and India. Together we are building a more lasting and durable
form of global stability: a balance of power that favors freedom.

This unprecedented change has supported others. Since its creation
more than 350 years ago, the modern state system has always rested on
the concept of sovereignty. It was assumed that states were the
primary international actors and that every state was able and willing
to address the threats emerging from its territory. Today, however, we
have seen that these assumptions no longer hold, and as a result the
greatest threats to our security are defined more by the dynamics
within weak and failing states than by the borders between strong and
aggressive ones.

The phenomenon of weak and failing states is not new, but the danger
they now pose is unparalleled. When people, goods and information
traverse the globe as fast as they do today, transnational threats
such as disease or terrorism can inflict damage comparable to the
standing armies of nation-states. Absent responsible state authority,
threats that would and should be contained within a country's borders
can now melt into the world and wreak untold havoc. Weak and failing
states serve as global pathways that facilitate the spread of
pandemics, the movement of criminals and terrorists, and the
proliferation of the world's most dangerous weapons.

Our experience of this new world leads us to conclude that the
fundamental character of regimes matters more today than the
international distribution of power. Insisting otherwise is imprudent
and impractical. The goal of our statecraft is to help create a world
of democratic, well-governed states that can meet the needs of their
citizens and conduct themselves responsibly in the international
system. Attempting to draw neat, clean lines between our security
interests and our democratic ideals does not reflect the reality of
today's world. Supporting the growth of democratic institutions in all
nations is not some moralistic flight of fancy; it is the only
realistic response to our present challenges.

In one region of the world, however, the problems emerging from the
character of regimes are more urgent than in any other. The "freedom
deficit" in the broader Middle East provides fertile ground for the
growth of an ideology of hatred so vicious and virulent that it leads
people to strap suicide bombs to their bodies and fly airplanes into
buildings. When the citizens of this region cannot advance their
interests and redress their grievances through an open political
process, they retreat hopelessly into the shadows to be preyed upon by
evil men with violent designs. In these societies, it is illusory to
encourage economic reform by itself and hope that the freedom deficit
will work itself out over time.

Though the broader Middle East has no history of democracy, this is
not an excuse for doing nothing. If every action required a precedent,
there would be no firsts. We are confident that democracy will succeed
in this region not simply because we have faith in our principles but
because the basic human longing for liberty and democratic rights has
transformed our world. Dogmatic cynics and cultural determinists were
once certain that "Asian values," or Latin culture, or Slavic
despotism, or African tribalism would each render democracy
impossible. But they were wrong, and our statecraft must now be guided
by the undeniable truth that democracy is the only assurance of
lasting peace and security between states, because it is the only
guarantee of freedom and justice within states.

Implicit within the goals of our statecraft are the limits of our
power and the reasons for our humility. Unlike tyranny, democracy by
its very nature is never imposed. Citizens of conviction must choose
it - and not just in one election. The work of democracy is a daily
process to build the institutions of democracy: the rule of law, an
independent judiciary, free media and property rights, among others.
The United States cannot manufacture these outcomes, but we can and
must create opportunities for individuals to assume ownership of their
own lives and nations. Our power gains its greatest legitimacy when we
support the natural right of all people, even those who disagree with
us, to govern themselves in liberty.

The statecraft that America is called to practice in today's world is
ambitious, even revolutionary, but it is not imprudent. A conservative
temperament will rightly be skeptical of any policy that embraces
change and rejects the status quo, but that is not an argument against
the merits of such a policy. As Truman once said, "The world is not
static, and the status quo is not sacred." In times of extraordinary
change such as ours, when the costs of inaction outweigh the risks of
action, doing nothing is not an option. If the school of thought
called "realism" is to be truly realistic, it must recognize that
stability without democracy will prove to be false stability, and that
fear of change is not a positive prescription for policy.

After all, who truly believes, after the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001,
that the status quo in the Middle East was stable, beneficial and
worth defending? How could it have been prudent to preserve the state
of affairs in a region that was incubating and exporting terrorism;
where the proliferation of deadly weapons was getting worse, not
better; where authoritarian regimes were projecting their failures
onto innocent nations and peoples; where Lebanon suffered under the
boot heel of Syrian occupation; where a corrupt Palestinian Authority
cared more for its own preservation than for its people's aspirations;
and where a tyrant such as Saddam Hussein was free to slaughter his
citizens, destabilize his neighbors and undermine the hope of peace
between Israelis and Palestinians? It is sheer fantasy to assume that
the Middle East was just peachy before America disrupted its alleged
stability.

Had we believed this, and had we done nothing, consider all that we
would have missed in just the past year: A Lebanon that is free of
foreign occupation and advancing democratic reform. A Palestinian
Authority run by an elected leader who openly calls for peace with
Israel. An Egypt that has amended its constitution to hold multiparty
elections. A Kuwait where women are now full citizens. And, of course,
an Iraq that in the face of a horrific insurgency has held historic
elections, drafted and ratified a new national charter, and will go to
the polls again in coming days to elect a new constitutional
government.

At this time last year, such unprecedented progress seemed impossible.
One day it will all seem to have been inevitable. This is the nature
of extraordinary times, which Acheson understood well and described
perfectly in his memoirs. "The significance of events," he wrote, "was
shrouded in ambiguity. We groped after interpretations of them,
sometimes reversed lines of action based on earlier views, and
hesitated long before grasping what now seems obvious." When Acheson
left office in 1953, he could not know the fate of the policies he
helped to create. He certainly could never have predicted that nearly
four decades later, war between Europe's major powers would be
unthinkable, or that America and the world would be harvesting the
fruits of his good decisions and managing the collapse of communism.
But because leaders such as Acheson steered American statecraft with
our principles when precedents for action were lacking, because they
dealt with their world as it was but never believed they were
powerless to change it for the better, the promise of democratic peace
is now a reality in all of Europe and in much of Asia.

When I walk past Acheson's portrait upon departing my office for the
last time, no one will be able to know the full scope of what our
statecraft has achieved. But I have an abiding confidence that we will
have laid a firm foundation of principle - a foundation on which
future generations will realize our nation's vision of a fully free,
democratic and peaceful world.