Not that anyone really expected the Americans to fight. They were for
the most part (deep down) morally opposed to violence, had not the
stomach for it. And blind, self-serving sheep that they were, the
middle class could only be deceived for so long.
Because this same, slow-thinking blob of humanity which elected and
gave the presidents their power, also set the limits for its use. In a
nation literally ruled by public opinion, they were like an anchor
unsoundly planted. The ship was free to drift a certain distance to
either side, but could never move too far in any one direction before
the anchor finally caught on some solid objection, and the movement was
brought to a halt. True, the angry seemed angrier this time, the
aggressive less easily pacified, and the Christian right-wing (a
contradiction of terms, for anyone the least familiar with Jesus'
teachings) more implacable. But it had been nearly a hundred years
since the Commonwealth had been directly involved in any kind of
offensive (military) war. Most observers had come to think of this
naive superpower as a big dog that liked to bark and throw its weight
around, but wasn't really looking for a fight. The damage it did was
more subtle and indirect---like stepping on flowers not yet open, and
crushing creatures too small for it to see.
But as the saying went, "When you sleep in the same bed with a giant,
you had better sleep lightly." The United Commonwealth was the most
powerful nation-state in the history of mankind, the more so because it
did not know its own strength.