When scholars look back at the foreign policy of the last administration, they're liable to conclude that the "Biden Doctrine," to the extent that there was one, wasn't an elaborate, ambitious and well-thought-out affair, the way some pundits have suggested. Rather, it was a series of tactical responses to world events — responses that were ultimately undermined by the White House's fear of adverse consequences.
Take Ukraine, for instance. In response to Russia's February 2022 invasion, the Biden White House mobilized enormous resources and political capital to defend Ukraine and to get other Western nations to do the same. The effects were nothing short of transformative. What Russian President Vladimir Putin expected to be the rapid conquest of Kyiv has turned into a grinding conflict that has cost the Kremlin dearly in economic, strategic and human terms.
Although President Biden repeatedly pledged to support Ukraine for "as long as it takes," he stopped short of giving Kyiv's brave defenders the ability to turn the tables on Moscow. Fears of Russian nuclear brinkmanship and the specter of a broader conflict involving NATO led Team Biden to repeatedly delay the delivery of critical long-range weapons desperately needed by Ukraine's military. When those resources were finally provided to Kyiv, they were accompanied by restrictions on how they could be used. The result was a policy that gave Ukraine enough aid to survive but not to persevere — setting the stage for the current stalemate in the conflict.
In much the same way, the Biden administration's approach to Israel's war with Hamas sent profoundly mixed signals. Mr. Biden earned high marks for his initial response to the Oct. 7, 2023, massacre, with his administration pledging to support Israel as it sought to eradicate the Palestinian Islamist movement responsible for it. Quickly, however, concerns about the humanitarian fallout from Israel's military offensive (and an extremely vocal constituency inside the president's party) led the Biden White House to apply broad political pressure on the Israeli government of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, delay the delivery of critical military aid and otherwise seek to limit Jerusalem's war aims. In the process, it helped slow the progress of Israel's military campaign, much to the detriment of Israelis and Palestinians alike.
In his last days in the post, Secretary of State Antony Blinken acknowledged as much when he noted to The New York Times that "whenever there has been public daylight between the United States and Israel and the perception that pressure was growing on Israel," the policies of Hamas (and other militant actors) have hardened, thereby making a real resolution to the conflict harder to achieve.
Then there are the Houthis. Ever since the start of Israel's Gaza offensive, the Iranian-supported Yemeni rebels have wreaked havoc on maritime commerce in the Red Sea through sporadic attacks on transiting vessels. This instability has had a profound chilling effect. Shipping via the Red Sea, which accounts for 10% to 15% of all global trade, has declined by about 90% since the start of the Houthi campaign, with global commodity prices soaring.
But America's response was decidedly tepid. For more than a year, the coalition assembled by the Biden administration to safeguard freedom of navigation in the Red Sea has remained limited in membership, activity and effectiveness. A large part of the reason has been Washington's fears of regional escalation and a more direct confrontation with the Houthis' main sponsor, Iran. As scholars have chronicled, the result was a profound erosion of U.S. leadership in the region.
On other fronts, Team Biden fared considerably better. The last administration's China policy, for instance, saw significant efforts to penalize Beijing's ongoing persecution of its Uyghur minority, to build regional alliances to contain and counter China, and to lessen the PRC's monopoly on strategic minerals. But, on a broader level, Mr. Biden's "managed competition" with China was more about management than competition, with Washington failing to consistently and publicly articulate the broad strategic threat the PRC now poses to America and its allies.
This isn't simply a chronicle of missed opportunities. It's also a teachable moment for the incoming Trump foreign policy team. Time after time during its tenure, the Biden administration failed to act resolutely on the international stage because of its fear of the potential consequences. This hamstrung the way the United States supported its allies and helped embolden America's adversaries.
If it wants to avoid the same outcome, the new White House must take the resulting lesson to heart. When it comes to foreign policy, there's simply no substitute for seriousness.
