The Last Full Measure of Devotion–And A Foreign Policy That Honors It

Editor’s note: This is one installment in a One Small Step series exploring how our founding principles apply to policy change movements. See the series introduction and full collection here. 

The Last Full Measure of Devotion–And A Foreign Policy That Honors It 

In November 1863, Abraham Lincoln stood at Gettysburg before an exhausted and fractured nation, at a moment when many questioned whether America’s democratic experiment would survive or if the sacrifices were worth it. Amid the graves of Union soldiers who had given the ultimate sacrifice, Lincoln recognized the war for what it was–a test of whether a nation conceived in liberty could endure. His Gettysburg Address honored those who “gave the last full measure of devotion” in pursuit of a more perfect Union. But the speech was more than a eulogy. It charged every living American, then and now, with an obligation to ensure “that these dead shall not have died in vain.” Lincoln directly connected the enormous sacrifices he was asking of his embattled nation to vital stakes that its citizens could clearly understand the need to sacrifice for. A republic may call upon its citizens to give their last full measure of devotion, but in doing so, it assumes the most solemn responsibility of governance. Amid more modern temptations to use force in situations that do not reflect the weight of such sacrifices, our nation must ensure it asks its citizens to bear these costs only for the defense of its highest and most vital national interests.  

Remembering the fallen is an essential duty that is foundational to civic life in a healthy republic. But Lincoln recognized that commemoration extends beyond reverence and requires active rededication. It imposes a responsibility on the living to “take increased devotion” by ensuring sacrifice advances a necessary cause. Sacrifice creates a standard that must govern decision-making, and it is the perpetual obligation of policymakers to weigh what is truly worth the ultimate cost. A lack of discipline in American foreign policy risks treating sacrifice as a renewable resource, as something expected rather than extraordinary. 

The direct link the Gettysburg Address drew between honoring Americans’ sacrifice for the nation and highlighting the clearly vital stakes behind its call to service was a continuation of the philosophical tradition established at the nation’s birth. From the beginning, it was understood that the use of force was never meant to be routine and that foreign policy existed to protect America’s interests. George Washington’s Farewell Address famously cautioned against the formation of permanent alliances for fear of entangling the nascent republic in foreign conflicts. Alexander Hamilton wrote that “government rulers are only trustees for the happiness and interest of their nation,” recognizing that their fiduciary duty was to the American people alone. While war may be necessary at times, the Founders were deeply aware of its risks, including its corrosive impacts on liberty and its tendency to concentrate power. As such, the moral compass of American foreign policy was to influence global affairs by example, as the beacon of liberty for all peoples struggling against tyranny. If the use of force were to become the primary instrument of American statecraft, John Quincy Adams warned the United States might become the “dictatress of the world,” but “no longer the ruler of her own spirit.” The Founders were not pacifists, but they recognized prudence in the judicious use of force, believing it should be reserved only in service of the American people and in defense of vital national interests worth potentially dying for. 

The Founders likely never imagined the heights to which America would soar, both in terms of power and wealth. While the end of the Cold War brought with it unrivaled status and opportunity for American foreign policy, it has also brought temptation to use that power in new ways with fewer constraints on U.S. actions. The justification for maintaining a large military shifted from defending the nation to abstract goals such as reshaping the world and retaining American primacy in global affairs. The scope of what qualifies as a national interest has been too elastic, and the U.S. has found itself intervening in distant conflicts with marginal impact on American security or prosperity despite great human and economic costs. When we allow ourselves to blur the line between necessity and choice, we trivialize what should be solemn and rare: asking Americans to give the last full measure of devotion. 

Returning to a foreign policy anchored in the spirit of our Founders requires a clear-eyed assessment of what matters and what warrants the call to sacrifice. The use of force must be reserved for vital national interests, which are those without which the United States cannot exist or function as a sovereign, prosperous, or independent country. America’s core interests are defending the homeland, protecting the health and dynamism of its market economy, preventing a hostile country from dominating it, and preserving our republican form of government. Core interests do not include military adventurism or social engineering projects in foreign countries that aim to impose democracy from the top down. If policymakers determine in an extreme circumstance that a vital interest is at stake and call on American citizens to defend it, their mission should have a defined, achievable end state with clear benefits to the American people. The standard for using force should match the gravity of the sacrifice it may demand. 

A more restrained approach to foreign policy is not about doing less for its own sake; it is about ensuring everything it does abroad makes America safer and more prosperous. In a world of both greater American power and greater strategic temptation, U.S. foreign policy must heed John Quincy Adams’ warning on the consequences of overreach. Where it seeks to remake other societies or too readily turn to force abroad, America risks losing the spirit of her founding. 

America’s 250th anniversary offers a generational opportunity to reconnect with its founding principles. Honoring those who gave the last full measure of devotion is not only about remembering those who made the supreme sacrifice. It is about reflecting on what our Founders thought a republic should ask of its citizens, and what justifies asking for such sacrifice in the first place. To ensure that future generations do not sacrifice in vain is the enduring responsibility of the living, and nowhere is that more consequential than in decisions of war and peace. This responsibility is best upheld through foreign policy decisions grounded in prudence and discipline. Our nation’s foreign policy should be worthy of such sacrifice by demanding it rarely, justifying it fully, and never expending it lightly.  

Matthew MacKenzie is a Foreign Policy Analyst at Americans for Prosperity.