Sergio Romano e il declino dell'impero americano

Quando si scriverà la storia dei primi decenni del XXI secolo, una data sarà probabilmente considerata dirimente. Solitamente si pensa all'11 settembre 2011, e cioè all'attacco alle Torri Gemelle a New York e al Pentagono a Washington da parte dell'organizzazione terroristica di Al Qaeda. Tuttavia l'evento veramente caratterizzante delle vicende internazionali degli ultimi anni è l'invasione americana dell'Iraq nel 2003. Considerata l'apoteosi dell'egemonia statunitense, quell’avventura bellica, i cui effetti - come testimoniano i fatti delle ultime settimane in Iraq - sono tutt'altro che esauriti, segnò invece l'inizio del declino americano sulla scena globale.
Tale scelta sconsiderata segna la negazione, nella pratica, dell'immagine del "Leviatano liberale", che per il politologo Ikenberry rappresenta la principale funzione degli Stati Uniti nel mondo, in quanto creatori di un ordine basato sulle istituzioni internazionali e sull’influenza positiva nel sistema internazionale delle democrazie liberali. 
Per Sergio Romano (Il declino dell'impero americano, Longanesi, Milano 2014) la crisi dell'ordine mondiale americano è cominciata a Kabul nel 2001 e a Baghdad nel 2003, "ma diviene ancora più evidente quando i più vecchi e fedeli alleati degli Stati Uniti - l'Arabia Saudita, Israele, la Turchia, il Giappone, alcuni Paesi europei e latinoamericani - lanciano segnali di fastidio e cominciano a fare scelte politiche che danno per scontato il declino della potenza americana". 
Romano traccia con grande nitore analitico le grandi linee della politica estera americana a partire dalla Seconda Guerra Mondiale. Romano propone un'interpretazione della proiezione internazionale degli Stati Uniti attraverso la categoria dell'impero, depurata però sia delle caratterizzazioni più rozzamente "imperialistiche", sia di quelle ingenuamente "provvidenzialistiche". Gli Stati Uniti non appaiono né come i dominatori del mondo, né come i suoi salvatori. Se è vero che gli Stati Uniti si sono fatti promotori in alcuni casi della giustizia mondiale, è anche vero che non hanno ratificato, ad esempio, il Tribunale penale internazionale, "perché ciò che è utile e desiderabile per gli altri - scrive Romano con un giudizio forse troppo severo - non è utile e desiderabile per sé stessa". 
Molto più realisticamente, Romano sostiene che gli Stati Uniti abbiano coltivato, sin dalla loro origine, la convinzione di possedere uno standard etico-politico più avanzato rispetto al resto del mondo e che tale circostanza li obbligasse ad assumere, anche da soli, la guida del mondo occidentale o "libero". In tal senso, per seguire Romano, la parola "isolazionismo" fa rima con unilateralismo. Le vicende dell’ultimo quarto di secolo dopo al fine della Guerra fredda mostrano, per la verità, un’immagine complessa del ruolo degli Stati Uniti: basti pensare alla ricerca del consenso internazionale nel caso dell’intervento per liberare il Kuwait invaso da Saddam Hussein nel 1991, o all’intervento nella ex-Jugoslavia dinanzi all’ignavia europea, alla apertura di credito offerta alle Primavere arabe dal 2010. 
In ogni caso, Romano descrive con grande lucidità la fine (a volte convulsa) della cosiddetta pax americana, cioè al ruolo degli Stati Uniti come garante di ultima istanza dell’ordine mondiale. Questo esito è in parte deliberato, ma sostanzialmente costituisce una conseguenza necessaria della riduzione delle capacità di intervento, sia a motivo della insostenibilità economica (specie dopo la crisi finanziaria del 2008) sia in ragione della insostenibilità politica (un’opinione pubblica americana assai oggi più preoccupata del fronte interno che di quello internazionale). Sullo sfondo, si svolge una transizione ben più importante persino della traslazione di potere verso l’Asia, ed è di tipo concettuale: gli Stati Uniti dovranno rendersi conto che, se essi sono la “nazione indispensabile”, come disse Madeleine Albright, oggi tutte le nazioni sono “indispensabili” per affrontare insieme le sfide globali. E’ sintomatico che un libro sul declino americano si concluda con una sorta di appello all’Europa, affinché si decida a presentarsi al mondo con “un governo comune”. Altrimenti – prevede Romano - l’era post-americana si popolerà solo di nuove potenze, tutte extraeuropee. Un limite di quest’analisi? Troppo centrata sulla nozione di potere, sia militare che economico, nella tradizione del pensiero “realista” delle relazioni internazionali. Non è detto che questo “realismo” serva davvero, oggi, a comprendere la complessità del mondo.

Apollo in Gaza

A word of warning: do not trust the captivating expression “cultural diplomacy”, it embodies a fundamental misunderstanding. Diplomats à la page and policy makers use to wrap all sort of things not directly connected to the exercise of “hard power” (military might, economic strength) in a “gift box” to partners and media to foster the idea that power and art, government and creativity are not necessarily opposite concepts. On the contrary, diplomacy – according to such a narrative - is more and more about “soft power”, articulated abroad through exhibitions, concerts, lectures, scientific joint ventures, even pop music and cartoons. 
However, our thesis is that cultural diplomacy - as a sub-set of so-called “public diplomacy” - has little to do with these promotional activities related to projecting the image of a country beyond its borders. Cultural diplomacy is a much more concrete and a much less Arcadian concept. It relates to diplomacy, but in a rather traditional way, since it regards a dispute, if not a confrontation, between one or more countries implying the possession or preservation of an artistic object or artefact of symbolic value in term of sovereignty, search for recognition, national identity and dignity. Put in this way, cultural diplomacy is mainly an exercise of negotiation and a diplomatic challenge to the status quo. Cultural diplomacy, therefore, in most cases is more an ugly crisis to solve than an elegant solution to an on-going crisis. 
A recent episode, regarding two countries “friends and allies”, Italy and the U.S., is a good exemplification of this. The case regards the fight for the restitution of a famous Greek statue, “the Venus of Morgantina”, 2.2 meters tall, from the eponymous archaeological site in Sicily (sculpted between 425 and 400 BC). The statue was stolen from Morgantina in the second half of the twentieth century, and then sold in 1986 to the Paul Getty Museum, after various events, for 10 million dollars. At the end of a complicated and somewhat fierce legal and diplomatic struggle, the Venus was returned to Sicily on 18 March 2011 after a long exile in the United States. The “Chase for Aphrodite”- as journalists Jason Felch and Ralph Frammolin put it in a fine book on this emblematic case – finally succeed. 
Other cases are not so easy to solve, like the removal of the sculptures of the Parthenon (now part of the collection of the British Museum) by Lord Elgin, the British ambassador to the Ottoman Empire in the early 19th century. Whereas the legal basis for returning the “Elgin Marbles” to Greece is weak, the historical, archaeological and even political arguments are strong. The issue there is not about the property of the marbles, but rather on where they would be best displayed to the public. With the inauguration of the new Acropolis Museum in Athens in 2010, much of the motives for keeping the marbles in London have objectively been weakened. Recently, the UNESCO – intervening on demand of the Greek government - urged the United Kingdom to take part in a "mediation procedure" with Greece in a renewed effort to solve a 200-years old dispute. Even two Hollywood famous actors, George Clooney and Bill Murray, asked Britain to repatriate the Elgin Marbles. 
The dramatic financial crisis that hit Greece in the last years triggered also a surrealistic polemics on the supposed lack of capacity of Greece to take care of the Elgin Marbles once returned to their country of origin, in consideration of the poor condition of the public budget and the disarray of the public sector. The argument implies a degree of judgement on the political, economic and social stability of the country, and it is used also for legitimating the British Museum in keeping the Rosetta Stone instead of returning it to Egypt. 
An “epic” restitution was that of the obelisk of Axum to Ethiopia by Italy. The obelisk, removed from the site and taken to Rome as a war trophy and a symbol of the re-birth of the “Roman Empire” during the Italian occupation, was returned to Axum in 2005 – after the first commitment taken by Italy already in 1947 - and re-erected in in 2008. To perform the restitution, the obelisk was removed one more time from its Roman place in front of the Headquarters of the United Nations' Food and Agriculture Organization. The operation (with a cost of almost eight million dollar for Italy) resulted much more complex than expected, and even required upgrading the runway at Axum airport to allow the landing of an airplane Antonov An-124, bearing the central piece of the obelisk (the second and third pieces were sent later that month). Returning the obelisk to Ethiopia meant healing the wound of the colonization of the land in 1936, symbolically ending all controversies of the past between Rome and Addis Ababa. 
At times, cultural diplomacy takes the form a cultural war in the real meaning of the expression. This was the destiny of the Buddhas of Bamiyan, in Afghanistan, two 6th century monumental statues of standing Buddha carved into the side of a cliff. The Buddhas were destroyed in March 2001 by the Talibans, following orders from their leader Mullah Mohammed Omar, after declaring them “idols”. The destruction caused a wave of condemnation on a global scale. The UNESCO, waiting for the improbable very costly reconstruction of the statues, launched a project worth 1.3 million dollars sorting out the pieces—weighing from several tons to fragments the size of baseball balls — and protecting them from extreme weather and other hazards. The Buddhas, to some extent, were “innocent victims” of a proxy war between the Talibans and the West, accusing each other, respectively, of intolerance and imperialism. 
The stories of restitution, request, destruction and restoration of artefacts narrated above embrace all level of effectiveness of power from consolidated state with an imperial past to countries in transition, not to mention failed or rogue states like in the case of Taliban’s Afghanistan. However, a new model recently arose after the occasional recovery of an ancient bronze statue of Apollo in the coast in front of the Gaza Strip, part of a state at the same time under construction and under occupation (the Palestinian State), ruled by a de facto local government, in a part of the world where conflict, violence and injustice unfortunately are usual features of social life, and where culture is neglected while being, at the same time, perhaps one of the most promising path to rebuild a sense of community, a shared identity and the awareness of a common destiny.
Ever since an ancient 2,500 year old and extremely rare bronze statue of Apollo was found in Gaza last summer, Gaza came under an unfamiliar media spotlight. Although cases of captivity are not new to Gaza, a statue of the god of love and poetry being held hostage to unsettled politics is quite unique. The statue, of which the discovery details remain disputed, is extremely rare, since very few statues of the time were made in metal/bronze. It is also beautifully impeccable, judging only from the few photos that were shared with the world, as the statue remains 'hidden' somewhere in the Strip of Gaza. While details of the whereabouts of the statue are almost nonexistent, one thing is for sure: the whole world is all eyes and ears. To this day, representatives of Italian, Swiss, French, and Greek museums, archaeological missions, and even governments have tried, to no avail, to seek the statue. In this case, the fact that the statue is hidden in an undisclosed location is the simplest problem, given the severe geographic and physical embargo of Gaza. While this embargo could mean that the statue will at least not be illegally smuggled outside Gaza (UNESCO’s Interpol is on alert), there is nothing to guarantee the actual wellbeing of the statue.
This historic discovery is not the first in Gaza, but due to a long queue of news related to the conflict and its different implications, little has ever been said about the city's impressive history, or previous discoveries. For example, in 1879, Palestinians living in Tell Ajjul, about 20 km south of Gaza, stumbled upon a 4x1x0.7 meters yellow sandstone structure, which turned out to be the largest known statue of Zeus in the world (since the destruction of "Zeus of Olympia" in 5th Century AD in Greece). The statue was seized by the Ottoman authorities that were ruling Gaza at the time and sent to Istanbul. Ever since, the statue has been displayed in the Istanbul Archaeology Museum as "Zeus of Gaza." Zeus's left arm has probably drowned in the deep sands of Gaza. 
In 1917, during the third Battle of Gaza, the Australian Anzac forces discovered the Shellal Mosaic, a Byzantine mosaic chapel floor that was built under the reign of Emperor Justinian. The troops removed the mosaic from the site and took it back to Australia, where it has been on display in the Australian War Memorial since 1941. Several debates have sprung on whether Australia’s looting of the mosaic could be considered as a war crime, and whether it has any right to keep it to this day. Unfortunately, while little has been said, nothing was done. With the fall of the Ottoman Empire in 1917 and the seizure of Palestine by the British Mandate, more archaeological discoveries were made. In 1934, Sir Flinders Petrie excavated the ancient site of Tell Ajjul, a Bronze Age site south of Gaza dating to 2100 BC. The priceless and extremely rare treasures that he unearthed, numbering to 12,000, have been on display in the British Museum and other exhibitions in Britain ever since. 
The archaeological treasures that were not looted by foreign armies outnumber those that found home in museums around the world. However, the current situation in Palestine leaves no space for archaeological discoveries and conservation. Gaza, one of the most densely populated areas in the world, is a true testament to that: with an expanding population and a shrinking territory, archaeological sites are no priority. 
It may fairly be said that Apollo’s story received more international media coverage than local coverage. Save the authorities and a few interested individuals, the majority of people in Gaza are too busy trying to lead normal lives as opposed to worrying about Apollo. It’s a harsh reality, which has overshadowed the general populations’ interest in their own history and ancient ancestry. Historically, Gaza was one of the most important cities in the Mediterranean given its strategic location between West Asia and Africa, which means that important archaeological findings are no surprise to the city. Yet, all is under the threat of loss. 
On a lighter note, a number of initiatives by locals and internationals are aimed at preserving what is left of the history of Gaza. These include the efforts of private collectors, amongst them Jawdat Khoudary, who has been collecting and preserving artefacts from Gaza since 1987. Khoudary opened the city’s first Museum of Archaeology in 2008, Almathaf, exhibiting 300 pieces that represent different historical eras. Other important pieces of the collection, including a marble statue of Aphrodite, that was found in the sea, were sent to Geneva for an exhibition on Gaza’s history that was hosted by Germany and Sweden as well. “Gaza from Sand and Sea” is the title that was given to the first volume of books on the collection, with a second volume now being drafted on numismatics of Gaza. 
In an ideal world, the statue of Apollo would be examined, studied and conserved by Palestinian experts, and would be displayed in the national museum of Palestine and labelled as part of the region’s common cultural heritage. However, in the Gaza’s austere reality, none of that exists. Gazans are left to hope for the best; that the statue will not be decaying now as you read these words, that no illegal plans are being plotted, and that a peaceful, and prompt, solution could be reached for saving Apollo. Greed could also make local inhabitants hope that the international community might regard Gaza with a different eye once Apollo is rescued; who knew that a 2,500 year old Gazan could hold the key to Gaza’s ancient gate to the world?


(Pasquale Ferrara and Yasmeen J. El Khoudary)