It’s been more than 60 years since the United States defeated an enemy in a hot war involving a major commitment of American troops. Korea was a draw; Vietnam was a defeat; the First Gulf War did nothing more than evict Saddam from Kuwait; and the Second Gulf War is on-going.

In an important article in today’s OpinionJournal, Shelby Steele, a research fellow at the Hoover Institution, observes that

There is something rather odd in the way America has come to fight its wars since World War II . . . Certainly since Vietnam, America has increasingly practiced a policy of minimalism and restraint in war. And now this unacknowledged policy, which always makes a space for the enemy, has us in another long and rather passionless war against a weak enemy.

While Steele doesn’t mention the growing confrontation with Iran, his explanation for the six-decade-long policy of “minimalism and restraint” provides a cogent perspective on how we—and, more generally, the West—are likely to deal with the threat of a nuclear Iran.

The origin of post-World War II minimalism in war, he avers, is “the world-wide collapse of white supremacy as a source of moral authority, political legitimacy and even sovereignty.” White supremecy was embodied in racism, colonialism and imperialism. Steele depicts their legacies this way:

Today, the white West—like Germany after the Nazi defeat—lives in a kind of secular penitence in which the slightest echo of past sins brings down withering condemnation. There is now a cloud over white skin where there once was unquestioned authority.

Minimalism is the West’s attempt to disassociate itself from its past sins. Iraq is a perfect example:

. . . when America—the greatest embodiment of Western power—goes to war in Third World Iraq, it must also labor to dissociate that action from the great Western sin of imperialism. Thus, in Iraq we are in two wars, one against an insurgency and another against the past—two fronts, two victories to win, one military, the other a victory of dissociation.

The collapse of white supremacy—and the resulting white guilt—introduced a new mechanism of power into the world: stigmatization with the evil of the Western past. And this stigmatization is power because it affects the terms of legitimacy for Western nations and for their actions in the world. In Iraq, America is fighting as much for the legitimacy of its war effort as for victory in war.

This explains the attitude of those who sometimes support military interventions on humanitarian grounds, but who always oppose interventions based on the national interest:

Because dissociation from the racist and imperialist stigma is so tied to legitimacy in this age of white guilt, America’s act of going to war can have legitimacy only if it seems to be an act of social work—something that uplifts and transforms the poor brown nation (thus dissociating us from the white exploitations of old).

White guilt transforms our Third World enemies into victims. Accordingly,

We must “understand” and pity our enemy even as we fight him. And, though Islamic extremism is one of the most pernicious forms of evil opportunism that has ever existed, we have felt compelled to fight it with an almost managerial minimalism that shows us to be beyond the passions of war—and thus well dissociated from the avariciousness of the white supremacist past.

Anti-Americanism is a derivative of white guilt:

Anti-Americanism, whether in Europe or on the American left, works by the mechanism of white guilt. It stigmatizes America with all the imperialistic and racist ugliness of the white Western past so that America becomes a kind of straw man, a construct of Western sin . . . Once the stigma is in place, one need only be anti-American in order to be “good,” in order to have an automatic moral legitimacy and power in relation to America . . . This formula is the most dependable source of power for today’s international left. Virtue and power by mere anti-Americanism. And it is all the more appealing since, unlike real virtues, it requires no sacrifice or effort—only outrage at every slight echo of the imperialist past.

Near the end of his thought-provoking article, Steele concludes that

America and the broader West are now going through a rather tender era, a time when Western societies have very little defense against the moral accusations that come from their own left wings and from those vast stretches of nonwhite humanity that were once so disregarded.

Iran, of course, was under the thumb of the West—first the Brits and then the Americans—for decades. With the virtual certainty that Russia and China will veto sanctions, much less military action, will white guilt prevent the United States, Britain, and France from forming a coalition of the willing with enough teeth to prevent Iran from having nuclear weapons?