by Jerome Copulsky

    The National Conservatives could gain from a more thorough engagement with the human rights discourse. 

    Earlier in his career as a senator, now-Secretary of State Marco Rubio positioned himself as a champion of strong international alliances, an advocate for human rights and refugees and an adversary of authoritarian regimes. Now, he is presiding over major changes in the department’s human rights posture.

    In an essay published in The Wall Street Journal on the eve of his inaugural trip to Central America, Rubio announced he would be pursuing “an approach to foreign policy based on concrete shared interests, not vague platitudes or utopian ideologies.” He did not mention the department’s commitment to human rights. Subsequently, Rubio has spoken of human rights infrequently and only obliquely in his criticism of China, Cuba and South Africa for restrictions on speech and property.

    Indeed, the department’s actions suggest backtracking on the issue. In March, it was reported that the department’s annual Country Reports on Human Rights Practices were being “streamlined” to the statutory minimum. Entire sections, such as those on violence against LGBTQ+ people, violations of women and minority rights, corruption, prisoner rights, indigenous communities and people with disabilities, have been removed. Others, such as labor rights, have been drastically reduced. Human rights advocates have responded that such edits will considerably undermine the usefulness and credibility of the reports.

    On April 22, Rubio posted a statement on the official State Department Substack account titled “A New State Department to Meet the Challenges of a New Era.” There, he broadly described a foreign policy bureaucracy that “stifles creativity, lacks accountability and occasionally veers into outright hostility to American interests.” He also articulated his plan to reorganize the department to advance the administration’s agenda and the interests of the American people.

    The Secretary highlighted the “J family” of bureaus and offices, which had, he claimed, “provided a fertile environment for activists to redefine ‘human rights’ and ‘democracy’ and to pursue their projects at the taxpayer expense, even when they were in direct conflict with the goals of the Secretary, the President and the American people.” In particular, the Bureau of Democracy, Human Rights and Labor (DRL), Rubio complained, had been weaponized by special interests within the department to “wage vendettas against ‘anti-woke’ leaders in nations such as Poland, Hungary and Brazil,” and to press for arms embargoes against Israel. 

    To respond to the “radical ideologues” within the department, he announced that he would reassign this “monstrosity of bureaus” to a new coordinator, where they would return to “their original mission of advancing human rights and religious freedom.”

    The State Department formalized Rubio’s proposed reorganization last month in a Congressional Notification, in which it detailed its plan to disband the “J family” and create a new Under Secretary for Foreign Assistance and Humanitarian Affairs, eliminate the DRL’s regional offices as well as the offices of Multilateral and Global Affairs and Global Programming, cut staff dedicated to advancing this Congressionally mandated work by up to 80 percent (considerably higher than the average cut of 15 percent across the department) and focus its remaining functions “on advancing the Administration’s affirmative vision of American and Western values.” 

    So what would such an “affirmative vision” look like? Back in February, in an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal, Princeton professor Robert George advised Rubio “to restore the original understanding of human rights” that emerged from the American tradition by rolling back the promotion of progressive causes (such as reproductive and gay rights). 

    Such a reform could be guided by the 2020 report of former Secretary Mike Pompeo’s Commission on Unalienable Rights: “Americans deserve a State Department that defends rights that accord with the constitutional order that our Founders established,” George declared. It is uncertain whether Rubio will heed this counsel. While the Pompeo commission maintained “the urgent need for the United States to vigorously champion human rights in its foreign policy,” the dominant ideological winds appear to be blowing in a different direction. 

    Certain, more au courant, voices on the American right regard the universal human rights regime established after the Second World War as a manifestation of the liberal-globalist imperium, empowering supranational and non-governmental organizations at the expense of the nation-state. The National Conservatives, a prominent element of the “new Right,” reject “the liberal imperialism of the last generation, which sought to gain power, influence and wealth by dominating other nations and trying to remake them in its own image.”

    National Conservatives instead endorse a world order comprised of independent and sovereign national states united by defensive alliances and weakened supranational institutions. They also warn against theories of universal human rights that might inspire interventionist intrigues and misadventures. Rather, sovereign nations ought to be left to pursue their own paths to cultural and material well-being. 

    Accordingly, it would not be surprising that the administration is downplaying human rights advocacy and supporting illiberal causes over the broadly understood “human rights” of the 1948 Universal Declaration (even though these universal rights regimes can trace their origins, at least in part, through the path of American constitutionalism).

    Given his admiration for autocratic rulers and repressive regimes and predilection for transactional relationships and the pursuit of business deals, it is reasonable to wonder whether President Trump’s approach to foreign policy is informed by moral or ideological considerations. For now, the foreign policy of the United States appears likely to reflect the capricious will of the president rather than any of the high-minded principles advanced by his intellectual janissaries.

    Washington often tells its international partners that “America first does not mean America alone.” Still, it is difficult to build or preserve alliances—and trust in American investments—without a sense of shared values. A commitment to promoting human rights and democracy is both an expression of the nation’s ideals and core constitutional values, as well as a reflection of its geopolitical interests. It is precisely this consistent ideological focus that provided America with an advantage in investment competitions with China. 

    European countries, in particular, had viewed China’s religious freedom and human rights abuses as reason enough to consider alternatives to its impressive infrastructure bids. Now, other countries merely need to consider the cheapest bidder, which is almost invariably Beijing. This development should prompt the nationalist right to take the promotion of universal human rights more earnestly.