I do not mean to suggest that these assumptions are self-evident, in the sense that everyone agrees with them.
If they were, Walter Lippmann would be writing the same columns as George Sokolsky, and Herb Lock would have nothing to draw cartoons about.
I do mean, however, that I take them for granted, and that everything I shall be saying would appear quite idiotic against any contrary assumptions.
Assumption 1.

The ultimate objective of American policy is to help establish a world in which there is the largest possible measure of freedom and justice and peace and material prosperity;
and in particular -- since this is our special responsibility -- that these conditions be enjoyed by the people of the United States.
I speak of "the largest possible measure" because any person who supposes that these conditions can be universally and perfectly achieved -- ever -- reckons without the inherent imperfectability of himself and his fellow human beings, and is therefore a dangerous man to have around.
Assumption 2.

These conditions are unobtainable -- are not even approachable in the qualified sense I have indicated -- without the prior defeat of world Communism.
This is true for two reasons: because Communism is both doctrinally, and in practice, antithetical to these conditions;
and because Communists have the will and, as long as Soviet power remains intact, the capacity to prevent their realization.
Moreover, as Communist power increases, the enjoyment of these conditions throughout the world diminishes pro rata and the possibility of their restoration becomes increasingly remote.
Assumption 3.

It follows that victory over Communism is the dominant, proximate goal of American policy.
Proximate in the sense that there are more distant, more "positive" ends we seek, to which victory over Communism is but a means.
But dominant in the sense that every other objective, no matter how worthy intrinsically, must defer to it.
Peace is a worthy objective;
but if we must choose between peace and keeping the Communists out of Berlin, then we must fight.
Freedom, in the sense of self-determination, is a worthy objective;
but if granting self-determination to the Algerian rebels entails sweeping that area into the Sino-Soviet orbit, then Algerian freedom must be postponed.
Justice is a worthy objective;
but if justice for Bantus entails driving the government of the Union of South Africa away from the West, then the Bantus must be prepared to carry their identification cards yet a while longer.
Prosperity is a worthy objective;
but if providing higher standards of living gets in the way of producing sufficient guns to resist Communist aggression, then material sacrifices and denials will have to be made.
It may be, of course, that such objectives can be pursued consisently with a policy designed to overthrow Communism;
my point is that where conflicts arise they must always be resolved in favor of achieving the indispensable condition for a tolerant world -- the absence of Soviet Communist power.

The uses of power

This much having been said, the question remains whether we have the resources for the job we have to do -- defeat Communism -- and, if so, how those resources ought to be used.
This brings us squarely to the problem of power, and the uses a nation makes of power.
I submit that this is the key problem of international relations, that it always has been, that it always will be.
And I suggest further that the main cause of the trouble we are in has been the failure of American policy-makers, ever since we assumed free world leadership in 1945, to deal with this problem realistically and seriously.

In the recent political campaign two charges were leveled affecting the question of power, and I think we might begin by trying to put them into proper focus.
One was demonstrably false;
the other, for the most part, true.

The first was that America had become -- or was in danger of becoming -- a second-rate military power.
I know I do not have to dwell here on the absurdity of that contention.
You may have misgivings about certain aspects of our military establishment -- I certainly do -- but you know any comparison of over-all American strength with over-all Soviet strength finds the United States not only superior, but so superior both in present weapons and in the development of new ones that our advantage promises to be a permanent feature of U.S.-Soviet relations for the foreseeable future.

I have often searched for a graphic way of impressing our superiority on those Americans who have doubts, and I think Mr. Jameson Campaigne has done it well in his new book American Might And Soviet Myth.
Suppose, he says, that the tables were turned, and we were in the Soviets' position: "There would be more than 2,000 modern Soviet fighters, all better than ours, stationed at 250 bases in Mexico and the Caribbean.
Overwhelming Russian naval power would always be within a few hundred miles of our coast.
Half of the population of the U.S. would be needed to work on arms just to feed the people".
Add this to the unrest in the countries around us where oppressed peoples would be ready to turn on us at the first opportunity.
Add also a comparatively primitive industrial plant which would severely limit our capacity to keep abreast of the Soviets even in the missile field which is reputed to be our main strength.

If we look at the situation this way, we can get an idea of Khrushchev's nightmarish worries -- or, at least, of the worries he might have if his enemies were disposed to exploit their advantage.

U.S. "prestige"
The other charge was that America's political position in the world has progressively deteriorated in recent years.
The contention needs to be formulated with much greater precision than it ever was during the campaign, but once that has been done, I fail to see how any serious student of world affairs can quarrel with it.

The argument was typically advanced in terms of U.S. "prestige".
Prestige, however, is only a minor part of the problem;
and even then, it is a concept that can be highly misleading.
Prestige is a measure of how other people think of you, well or ill.
But contrary to what was implied during the campaign, prestige is surely not important for its own sake.
Only the vain and incurably sentimental among us will lose sleep simply because foreign peoples are not as impressed by our strength as they ought to be.
The thing to lose sleep over is what people, having concluded that we are weaker than we are, are likely to do about it.

The evidence suggests that foreign peoples believe the United States is weaker than the Soviet Union, and is bound to fall still further behind in the years ahead.
This ignorant estimate, I repeat, is not of any interest in itself;
but it becomes very important if foreign peoples react the way human beings typically do -- namely, by taking steps to end up on what appears to be the winning side.
To the extent, then, that declining U.S. prestige means that other nations will be tempted to place their bets on an ultimate American defeat, and will thus be more vulnerable to Soviet intimidation, there is reason for concern.

Still, these guesses about the outcome of the struggle cannot be as important as the actual power relationship between the Soviet Union and ourselves.
Here I do not speak of military power where our advantage is obvious and overwhelming but of political power -- of influence, if you will -- about which the relevant questions are: Is Soviet influence throughout the world greater or less than it was ten years ago?
And is Western influence greater or less than it used to be?

Communist gains

In answering these questions, we need to ask not merely whether Communist troops have crossed over into territories they did not occupy before, and not merely whether disciplined agents of the Cominform are in control of governments from which they were formerly excluded: the success of Communism's war against the West does not depend on such spectacular and definitive conquests.
Success may mean merely the displacement of Western influence.

Communist political warfare, we must remember, is waged insidiously and in deliberate stages.
Fearful of inviting a military showdown with the West which they could not win, the Communists seek to undermine Western power where the nuclear might of the West is irrelevant -- in backwoods guerrilla skirmishes, in mob uprisings in the streets, in parliaments, in clandestine meetings of undercover conspirators, at the United Nations, on the propaganda front, at diplomatic conferences -- preferably at the highest level.

The Soviets understand, moreover, that the first step in turning a country toward Communism is to turn it against the West.
Thus, typically, the first stage of a Communist takeover is to "neutralize" a country.
The second stage is to retain the nominal classification of "neutralist", while in fact turning the country into an active advocate and adherent of Soviet policy.
And this may be as far as the process will go.
The Kremlin's goal is the isolation and capture, not of Ghana, but of the United States -- and this purpose may be served very well by countries that masquerade under a "neutralist" mask, yet in fact are dependable auxiliaries of the Soviet Foreign Office.

To recite the particulars of recent Soviet successes is hardly reassuring.

Six years ago French Indochina, though in troubie, was in the Western camp.
Today Northern Vietnam is overtly Communist;
Laos is teetering between Communism and pro-Communist neutralism;
Cambodia is, for all practical purposes, neutralist.

Indonesia, in the early days of the Republic, leaned toward the West.
Today Sukarno's government is heavily besieged by avowed Communists, and for all of its "neutralist" pretensions, it is a firm ally of Soviet policy.

Ceylon has moved from a pro-Western orientation to a neutralism openly hostile to the West.

In the Middle East, Iraq, Syria and Egypt were, a short while ago, in the Western camp.
Today the Nasser and Kassem governments are adamantly hostile to the West, are dependent for their military power on Soviet equipment and personnel;
in almost every particular follow the Kremlin's foreign policy line.

A short time ago all Africa was a Western preserve.
Never mind whether the Kikiyus and the Bantus enjoyed Wilsonian self-determination: the point is that in the struggle for the world that vast land mass was under the domination and influence of the West.
Today, Africa is swerving violently away from the West and plunging, it would seem, into the Soviet orbit.

Latin America was once an area as "safe" for the West as Nebraska was for Nixon.
Today it is up for grabs.
One Latin American country, Cuba, has become a Soviet bridgehead ninety miles off our coast.
In some countries the trend has gone further than others: Mexico, Panama, and Venezuela are displaying open sympathy for Castroism, and there is no country -- save the Dominican Republic whose funeral services we recently arranged -- where Castroism and Anti-Americanism does not prevent the government from unqualifiedly espousing the American cause.

Only in Europe have our lines remained firm -- and there only on the surface.
The strains of neutralism are running strong, notably in England, and even in Germany.

Opportunities missed

What have we to show by way of counter-successes?
We have had opportunities -- clear invitations to plant our influence on the other side of the Iron Curtain.
There was the Hungarian Revolution which we praised and mourned, but did nothing about.
There was the Polish Revolution which we misunderstood and then helped guide along a course favorable to Soviet interests.
There was the revolution in Tibet which we pretended did not exist.
Only in one instance have we moved purposively and effectively to dislodge existing Communist power: in Guatemala.
And contrary to what has been said recently, we did not wait for "outside pressures" and "world opinion" to bring down that Communist government;
we moved decisively to effect an Anti-Communist coup d'etat.
We served our national interests, and by so doing we saved the Guatemalan people the ultimate in human misery.