There is increasing consideration of (and, in some quarters, consternation about) what might be dubbed "the new unilateralism," the practice of the United States going it alone in the world. It merits attention. The 1989 U.S. invasion of Panama was a unilateral exercise, as for all intents and purposes were the interventions in Grenada and Haiti (at least in its initial phase). Sanctions against Cuba have become a mostly unilateral endeavor, as have those against Iran. The United States broke rank over nato's enforcement of the Bosnian arms embargo, and Congress has tried to effect an unilateral abrogation of the embargo itself. Meanwhile, despite membership in the World Trade Organization (WTO), the Clinton administration chose to confront Japan unilaterally, and again to threaten sanctions, over the marketing of automobiles and their parts.

The list could go on and no doubt will. Explaining why acting alone is as popular as it is in the United States is not all that hard, given the obvious advantages. It is much easier to act without having to gain the consent of others. No compromise is necessary and there is no one to slow you down. It is easier to keep secrets secret. And unilateralism has always been attractive to a people suspicious of the old world and wanting a free hand in dealing with matters closer to home.

Two features of the post-Cold War international environment-less automatic resistance from great power adversaries and less dependable assistance from erstwhile allies-also strengthen the temptation, and at times create the necessity, to act alone. The unilateralist impulse was strengthened further by both Somalia and Bosnia, two multilateral undertakings widely perceived as failures.

It should be recognized that on some occasions unilateral action is surely the best choice. This is especially so when interests are narrowly national, and when the logistical support of others is deemed unnecessary or undesirable, lest surprise be sacrificed or a friend embarrassed. Both Panama and Grenada fit this bill. Retaliating against state sponsorship of terror, as the United States did against Iraq in the wake of the failed attempt on the life of former President Bush, was something best done by the United States alone. In this latter circumstance, new technologies, such as ship-launched cruise missiles, provide opportunities for the United States to strike a limited set of targets with little or no third country role.

But in many instances, including the most significant ones, unilateralism is neither wise nor sustainable. Most military interventions, for example, require either the indirect or direct support and participation of others. Access to bases, the right to overfly, intelligence support-all are usually necessary if an action is at all complicated or distant. Those operations that promise to be large in scale, or long-term, or both, need the active participation of others-their forces and equipment-for several reasons: to share the military burden, to distribute economic costs, and to assuage domestic political demands that the United States not assume a disproportionate share of the costs of acting in the world when the interests of others coincide with our own.

Burden sharing is increasingly relevant as a consideration in an era of flagging domestic support for defense and assistance budgets-and those budgets are all but certain to decline further in real terms over the next decade. Seen in the context of such increasing resource constraints, a penchant toward U.S. unilateralism would inevitably result in our progressively doing less overseas.

Economic burden-sharing apart, the support of others can also help politically. The endorsement of a course of action by the United Nations or a relevant regional body can add an aura of legitimacy and, in the eyes of some, legality to an undertaking. This can have several advantages: in generating domestic political support, in bringing about the military and economic participation of others, and in reducing resistance on the part of the target regime or its backers.

A pattern of seeking such international endorsement can also help inhibit intervention by those who would abuse their power. Russia, for one, might think twice before dispatching forces to its "near abroad" if it knew that the absence of a Security Council Resolution endorsing its intervention made it more likely that criticism and even sanctions would follow.

Unilateralism on our part also carries the risk that it will encourage unilateralism by others. The best argument against unilateral abrogation of the Bosnian arms embargo is that it would encourage others to do the same with respect to, say, sanctions against Iraq. If we pay a price for multilateralism we also receive dividends; if we see an advantage for unilateralism we also must be sensitive to its costs.

Unilateral action in other realms-export controls and economic sanctions more generally come to mind-risk being feckless except in those circumstances where the U.S. component is so central that doing without or finding a substitute supplier is not a viable option for the target state. Increasingly, though, such U.S. dominance in the economic realm is rare, as others can provide comparable technologies, large markets, and substantial amounts of capital.

Thus, and despite its undeniable domestic political appeal, unilateralism is in most instances not a realistic foreign policy for this country. Putting aside those isolationists or minimalists who reject the need for any substantial foreign policy orientation, either because they discount the importance of overseas interests or want to focus attention overwhelmingly on domestic matters (or both) the real choice facing this country in the foreseeable future is not between unilateralism and multilateralism but among forms of the latter.

Multiple Multilateralisms

There are three forms that a multilateral foreign policy can assume. The first type is the most familiar because it was often at the heart of U.S. foreign policy throughout the Cold War. It depends on formal alliances and other standing organizations as the principal vehicles for U.S. engagement in the world. A second approach is to create powerful international (and, in some cases, supranational) institutions, or to focus on making those that already exist-the United Nations, the World Court and others-more capable. A third approach is to build temporary coalitions to address specific challenges, be they problems or opportunities.

The traditional organizational approach that has characterized American foreign policy over the past half century was exemplified by NATO, although there were political and economic institutions to match. The North Atlantic Council was paramount in the political realm; in economic matters, the International Monetary Fund and the OECD were created to help manage monetary coordination. The World Bank was given the task of promoting development. Although there was no counterpart trade body-the International Trade Organization was stillborn-there was the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT), which provided rules of the road concerning government trade that served much the same purpose in favoring liberalization, and in offering a venue and process for dispute settlement.

Such institutionalism was possible because the international situation was, for all its potential dangers, essentially stable. If they are to function, standing alliances and other organizations require predictability, both as regards the source of problems and the friends and allies who can be counted upon to act in responding to them. There is time to consider scenarios and to prepare plans and capabilities for addressing them. NATO was made possible by the potential for a Soviet/Warsaw Pact attack on Western Europe, and the collective readiness of the United States, Canada, and NATO's European members to resist aggression in that location.

As useful as these institutions were, they had (and have) their limits. As associations of sovereign members, they were unable to force governments to do much of anything. France could not be compelled to remain in nato's united military command. Several European governments balked at supporting the deployment of intermediate range missiles. Trade disputes festered. Chronic surplus and debtor states could not be forced to adjust their currencies or underlying economic policies. The need for consensus and voluntary adherence to collective decisions often became an explanation-or an excuse-for inaction.
Such standing bodies also tend not to deal well with non-core issues. NATO, for example, stood nearly helpless to contend with problems between its members-the conflict between Greece and Turkey comes to mind. It also had little to contribute to solving internal problems experienced by any of its members, or with challenges that could affect most or all members but fell outside the area covered by its charter. At the same time, formal organizations of any sort could not be successfully created and maintained in those regions of the world where friends and allies were few and/or weak, where perceptions of threat were not shared, and where scenarios were many but uncertain. The failure of CENTO (along with the Baghdad Pact before it) and SEATO provided demonstrations of how difficult it was to establish and maintain capable standing alliances, even in an international setting as highly regulated as the Cold War.

With the Cold War over, the limitations of standing alliances are even more obvious. They have become less relevant and at times counterproductive. Groups of countries that once shared common purposes now no longer do, or do so only in circumstances increasingly less common. NATO is again the classic case. The core mission-protecting members against a hostile external threat-has essentially disappeared. Meanwhile, NATO's unsuccessful attempts at undertaking ambitious new missions, as is the case in the former Yugoslavia, reveal a lack of consensus in the alliance. In this instance at least, the alliance has become an obstacle to effective action rather than its agent. Clearly, it would be better for NATO to concentrate on lesser but still important tasks: preserving a residual capacity to carry out its basic mission, integrating new members, and providing support for efforts undertaken by selected members in their individual capacities.

Western economic institutions are having a somewhat better time of it. The end to Cold War competition did not change the economic environment significantly. Nevertheless, they too are having trouble adapting to the emergence of massive pools of privately held funds that can overwhelm what governments or existing institutions do.

Expanded Multilateralism

A second form of multilateralism would go far beyond the initial and apparently abandoned impulse of the current administration-what was termed "assertive multilateralism"-to create supranational capabilities. In the security realm, it would involve creating a standing military force responsible to the Security Council and, in some circumstances, to the secretary-general. Such a force could be dispatched quickly to help prevent conflicts or (under Chapter vii of the UN Charter) to enforce Security Council resolutions. An expanded multilateralism of this sort could also seek to establish machinery (a strengthened World Court, for example) for resolving political disputes between states that would constitute arbitration, not just mediation. Economically, this form of multilateralism would require not simply rules regulating trade but mandatory dispute settlement mechanisms and strict monetary coordination.

There are obvious difficulties with multilateralism of this sort. National sovereignty may be much battered but it is still alive and kicking. Few governments (including, notably, our own) would be prepared to cede to some supranational agency or set of agencies, run by international civil servants, the independence governments enjoy in the political, economic, or military realms. Moreover, even if there were some desire to do so, building such organizational capacity (especially in the military sphere) would be a monumental undertaking, given the expense and the forces that would oppose it.

Less unrealistic but still problematic would be a scaled-down version of such multilateralism, one that would concentrate on trying to strengthen and make more independent existing international institutions. To some extent the United States has taken or is considering taking some modest steps in this direction, both in the form of efforts to create a stand-by force responsible to the Security Council and by agreeing to follow certain WTO procedures to resolve trade disputes.

The problem with even this more modest, sub-supranational form of internationalism stems from the reality that we ourselves are not prepared (and rightly so) to give up our freedom of maneuver in those situations where we disagree and where important national interests are at stake. Given that others tend to feel the same, such multinational efforts are often no stronger than the weakest or most adamantly opposed member in possession of a veto. Again, sovereignty-not as an abstract norm but as a political reality-precludes almost any form of multilateralism that would override or take the place of domestic autonomy to a significant degree.

Multilateralism that Makes Sense

There is a third approach to multilateralism, one more informal in nature and more achievable in practice. It differs from the first in its rejection of reliance on standing, formal organizations, and differs from the second in eschewing interest in universal, supranational authorities. At its core is the idea of selected states and organizations coalescing for narrow tasks or purposes-and in most cases disbanding once the specific aim has been accomplished. Membership is available to those able and willing to participate, and this approach is thus sometimes referred to as "coalitions of the willing." Less formally it can be described as foreign policy by posse.

Examples of this approach are multiplying. The most famous cases, and in some ways the model for the idea, were Desert Shield and Desert Storm. Here, in response to a specific crisis, namely, the Iraqi invasion and occupation of Kuwait, the United States fashioned a multilateral coalition that over the course of the next seven months proved victorious on the battlefield. Like many inventions, it was born of necessity: there was no standing Gulf security organization to fall back upon, the UN lacked the capability, and it was too much for the United States alone to undertake.

The Gulf coalition was one in which tasks and roles differed according to both the desire and ability of governments to make a contribution. Some countries simply gave moral and political support by voting in one or another forum for action against Iraq. Others limited their participation to providing funds. In the military realm there was a wide disparity. The United States contributed more than a half million troops and equipment of all sorts. Some others, notably Great Britain and France, also committed sizable, balanced forces. Others, for political or military reasons or both, contributed much smaller forces and sometimes only for particular missions-say, sanctions enforcement or defense of rear areas.

The coalition that won the war disbanded as soon as it ended. But a more narrow coalition continues to work together in the war's aftermath to promote Iraqi compliance with various resolutions and to protect Iraqi citizens from their own government. The United States, Turkey, Great Britain, and France operate in and over Iraq's north to protect the Kurds. It is the United States, together with Great Britain, France, and several Gulf states, that maintain a no-fly zone over the predominantly Shi'a areas of Iraq's south. Both efforts are undertaken "pursuant to" authority judged to be implicit in Security Council resolutions in what amounts to a collective decision to act.

Other coalitions are longer standing. One set includes so-called supplier groups, i.e., those coalitions of states who agree not to provide designated technologies or capabilities to selected states in order to slow their efforts to develop certain military capacities. Right now there are supplier groups in the realm of nuclear, biological and chemical, and ballistic missile technologies. Membership of these groups obviously reflects relevance-only those who could provide such technologies are potential members-and a willingness to forgo exports. They operate much as cartels, with their effectiveness depending on the extent of their reach-that is, what it is they sanction and whether there are non-members ready and able to provide what they will not.

Ad hoc coalitions are also appearing in the economic sphere. The Mexican bailout is an interesting case. Viewing the potential failure of the Mexican economy as a major threat to U.S. and world economic health, and realizing that no existing institution or set of arrangements could provide the Mexican government the backing it required, the Clinton administration lashed together in early 1995 an ad hoc coalition that included, in addition to itself, the International Monetary Fund, the Bank for International Settlements, Canada, a consortium of Latin American governments, and several private banks. Although the private banks subsequently dropped out, the multi-billion dollar bail-out appears to have worked in allowing Mexico to weather the immediate crisis.

Diplomacy, too, increasingly turns to informal coalitions. The management of the Middle East peace process since the October 1991 Madrid Conference is coordinated by the United States (with Russia as nominal co-sponsor) that involves not only the immediate protagonists but also Egypt, the Gulf states, the European Union, and others. Similarly, diplomacy toward Bosnia-admittedly, not (yet) a shining example-is informally coordinated by a Contact Group consisting of the United States, Russia, France, Great Britain, and Germany. An earlier contact group, one that included the United States, Great Britain, France, Canada, and the then Federal Republic of Germany, was instrumental in helping to negotiate a political settlement in southern Africa in the 1980s.

An Asian example of foreign policy by posse is the informal coalition brought about by the October 1994 "Agreed Framework" between the United States and North Korea, which established the Korean Peninsula Energy Development Corporation (KEDO). The United States is in charge, with the Republic of Korea and Japan in principal supporting roles, and many other governments participating in lesser capacities. The purpose is to provide light water reactors and alternative energy (in this case, heavy fuel oil) to the North Koreans on economic terms they can afford and political terms they can accept.

What these and similar efforts have in common is that they tend to be U.S.-led groups that come together for a finite set of tasks. They are voluntary as regards membership participation in particular actions. Their charter is their own. They are often put together for a limited span of time. They tend to have little in the way of headquarters or permanent staff. They are better understood as an activity than an organization.It is not difficult to imagine other applications, including a different approach to Bosnia. Rather than trying to force policy through a divided NATO or a UN with a different set of priorities, the United States would have been wiser to build a small coalition of like-minded states that would have been in a position credibly to threaten, and carry out as need be, military actions ranging from making the designated safe-areas safe to the so-called "lift and strike" option combining arms supplies to the Bosnians and attacks on Serbian positions. Some form of ad hoc coalition may prove useful in the future if, as seems likely, the NATO/UN phase of the conflict comes to an unhappy and unsuccessful end.

The United States will likely have to forge a small coalition to deal with North Korea's nuclear program if the current negotiated approach should come up short. This could prove the best way to tackle sanctions, in order to avoid the certain delay and possible Chinese veto in the Security Council that working through the UN would involve. It would be unavoidable if military action were to be taken. Indeed, given the controversial nature of preventive strikes, both as regards the act itself and the risk of retaliation against states near the target, it will almost always be necessary for the United States to create posses for such tasks. The same can be said of special sanctions regimes where something more formal or universal is simply not a realistic option, given the existence of opposition in the Security Council or among major trading partners of the target state. Indeed, the challenge for the United States in its policy toward Iran is to transform what is essentially a unilateral approach into something broader, if still ad hoc.

Obviously, the informal coalition approach is not without its drawbacks. By definition, such groups do not exist before the problem or crisis emerges, and they therefore offer no deterrent effect-although, if formed quickly enough, they can still provide a preventive or preemptive function. But informal coalitions take time to forge and not every protagonist will, like Saddam, provide months for a coalition to get up to speed. They will often lack clear political or legal authority and a means of reliable financing, the absence of which tends to detract from public and international support. The United States will more often than not have to act and provide the bulk of the impetus and resources. And, as is the case with any variant of multilateralism, informal coalitions constrain as well as facilitate. The Gulf War demonstrates that both strategic aims and tactical choices need to be negotiated among members of the coalition.

There are, however, important advantages. The United States has the inherent capacity to create posses where and when it chooses. They do not require much in the way of prior investment. Coalitions of the willing bring with them some of the advantages that derive from collective effort (resources, specialization, diplomatic co-support) without the need for consensus or prearranged authority. They also enjoy some measure of international legitimacy.

More than anything else, though, posses or coalitions of the willing (and able) constitute an approach to international engagement that reflects the basic personality and characteristics of the post-Cold War world. This is a time in history when there are: multiple great powers involved in relationships that resist clear definition and range from the cooperative to the competitive; a growing number of small and medium, sovereign entities; proliferating regional and international bodies, as well as non-governmental organizations; an increasing diffusion of power in all forms; and new sorts of problems (or old problems on a new scale) for which institutions do not yet exist. What is needed as a result is an approach to foreign policy that is inherently flexible, one able to respond to unforeseen situations in unprecedented ways.

The posse approach thus offers a valuable supplement to a world in which regional and international institutions are limited to what they can usefully contribute. Moreover, posses come with the further advantage that they can become more structured and institutionalized if the need and consensus to move in that direction exists. The supplier groups already mentioned reflect this potential, as does the G-7, which over the years has evolved into a quasi-institution for helping to manage a diverse set of political and military, as well as economic, challenges. It may prove possible to adapt or expand the role of other regional or international institutions. Until then, posses can selectively draw on the available assets and resources of such organizations.

Again, though, there will be limits to what we can predict and prepare for. Hence, informal coalitions of the willing increasingly will offer the best vehicle for this country to act effectively in the world when it matters most. Indeed, the real question hanging over the future of this approach to multilateralism is not so much its utility as the willingness of the United States to lead and participate: a posse without a strong sheriff is far more likely to get itself into trouble than to accomplish something of value.