Power Politics

In another recent NRO piece, Stanford Law student Ying Ma interviews prominent realist Jeremy Rabkin, author of a new book concerning sovereignty and the international system. Mr. Rabkin is a staunch defender of the concept of sovereignty, and thoughtfully discusses some of the most pressing concerns of today’s international order during the interview. His points are insightful, and I strongly encourage you to read the interview. Whether one agrees or disagrees with him, his views are refreshing and interesting. Personally, I think he somewhat overstates the degree to which the traditional concept of sovereignty has changed in Europe, and also tends to discount the realities of power over the strength of legal constructions a bit much (although he’s right to give legal sovereignty credence). Otherwise, his points about sovereignty and international law, and particularly the nature of international institutions are entirely on the mark. Allow me to provide a short excerpt:

The point of my book was to emphasize the difference between a sovereign state and an international organization. The U.N. is merely an international organization. At its best, the U.N. is simply a forum for negotiations. But negotiations don’t always succeed. When the U.N is paralyzed — as it usually is — we need to think about alternate forums or specialized coalitions to pursue our aims. That’s what we did throughout the Cold War. That’s what we did in Iraq in 2003. That’s what we’ll have to do in the future. […] The main reason to talk about leaving the U.N., however, is to remind ourselves what we are seeking at the U.N. — not a world government, but simply a tool for our diplomacy.

James S. Robbins pens a thought-provoking essay on stability and change in the National Review. Hailing the new brand of foreign policy carried out by President Bush, Mr. Robbins slams the paradigm of stability as in many ways an outmoded concept. However, as a scholar of political history, Mr. Robbins wisely tempers his criticism by recognizing the value of stability in some situations. As he points out, the failure to stabilize the Balkans led to severe violence and ethnic strife; the containment of the Cuban Missile Crisis averted war. He also correctly points out the dangers in following a policy of extremely reactionism; eventually it’ll fail, and at that point the situation will explode very violently. The intransigence of Charles X in France, for example, was directly responsible for the explosive July Revolution that deposed him.

However, whereas Robbins is a proponent of radical change, I believe that governments must seek to balance the demands of change with the demands of stability. In short, the state must adhere to a policy of gradualism, in a varying degree depending on the situation. Change is a natural function of world politics, and to deny this is to deny reality. However, change on its own leads to chaos and disruptive instability. Change must be harnessed as a force for good, and then implemented in the most stable way possible. Wherever this has been managed, security and prosperity have inevitably followed.

Robbins first quotes a section from one of President Bush’s more notable speeches of late.

By now it should be clear that decades of excusing and accommodating tyranny, in the pursuit of stability, have only led to injustice and instability and tragedy. It should be clear that the advance of democracy leads to peace, because governments that respect the rights of their people also respect the rights of their neighbors. It should be clear that the best antidote to radicalism and terror is the tolerance and hope kindled in free societies. And our duty is now clear: For the sake of our long-term security, all free nations must stand with the forces of democracy and justice that have begun to transform the Middle East.

Excusing the rhetorical flourish, the fundamental sentiments expressed by Mr. Bush require a bit of fine tuning to be truly accurate.

American foreign policy over the past decades has had its ups and downs to be sure. Latin American policy was particularly troubled, and ended up backfiring to an extent. However, the benefits of the stability-centric power realism advanced during the Cold War were far better than the policy’s drawbacks. As much as revisionist historians wish to downplay the power of the Soviet Union during the Cold War, it was indisputably an American equal as far as diplomacy and foreign relations were concerned. The support of tyrannical regimes in the Middle East and Asia was essential to American security policy. Should the US have tried to promote democracy through instability, it would have backfired. Regimes from Suharto in Indonesia to American allies in the Middle East would have been pushed into the Soviet orbit. Reconciliation with China would have been impossible. Oil shortages would’ve become acute, American power would’ve greatly deteriorated, and the Soviet Union would’ve gained a strategic edge. In fact, it was in many ways because of American tolerance for autocratic regimes that the US defeated the Soviet Union so overwhelmingly, and went on to become the dominant superpower. The seeds of a Washington-dominated capitalistic world order of progress were sown in these sometimes distasteful alliances.

The question of whether democracies attack other democracies is less clear cut that the President suggests. There is indeed much evidence showing that democratic governments are much less likely to attack other democratic governments than the norm; whether this is due to the system of government (republican government perhaps better recognizing where productive national interests lie) or the level of social, political, and economic development (republican systems tend to develop in advanced states, and thus perhaps it’s the sophistication itself of these states that causes war to become a less valuable tool for policymakers) is very much open to debate. However, this is a tendency, not a rule. Any government, democracy or not, tends very much to act in its national interests. When these interests are congruent with war, as in a high pressure situation, democratic norms will have a hard time overcoming them. Should the Middle East and other areas be democratized, there may be a greater tendency toward peace and negotiation. However, if education and economic development don’t maintain the same pace, a prejudiced and manipulable body politic may actually inflame tensions and press for war. Furthermore, the interim period between autocracy and democracy presents grave risks to the security of regional oil supplies and US interests in the region. As noted earlier, change be an explosive and disruptive force. Channelled poorly, change forced on the Middle East may easily make things there worse, not better. Instead, gradualism must be the order of the day.

Mr. Robbins continues.

President Bush was signaling a historic development — the end of the stability paradigm, i.e., the belief that the objective of international politics is to keep the world in a steady state, blunting the impact of change and extinguishing crises as they arise.

I wouldn’t go quite so far.

Through his policies toward Iraq and the Greater Middle East, President Bush has demonstrated a bold willingness to contravene the stability policy and promote democratic change. In Afghanistan, this policy turned out to be a remarkable success. In Lebanon, this policy seems to be working well. Yet in both of these cases the change was carefully orchestrated. In Afghanistan, Washington dispatched tens of thousands of troops to rebuild the country and foster progress. It worked within the existing framework of governance (the warlord system) to establish the foundation of the new system. In Lebanon, international pressure was applied from all sides against Syria. The withdrawal is proceeding slowly but smoothly. Yet Syria has not yet proven its commitment to withdraw completely from Lebanon; it may renege on its agreement if international pressure begins to disintegrate. Plus, Lebanon has a rich heritage of political independence, colorful debate, and democratic institutions. Not to mention that this is a narrowly defined instance of pressure effecting change, and against an American nemesis that Washington wouldn’t mind seeing out of power anyway.

However, in Iraq, Mr. Bush’s policy seems to have failed. Frankly, I don’t see much promise of Iraq becoming a stable democratic ally of the United States. In Uzbekistan, US support of democracy has backfired, merely alienating Washington from Tashkent.

It’s only where conditions are right (in Eastern Europe after the Cold War, and in Asia throughout the latter 20th century) that massive change to the status quo can be accommodated. Fostering these conditions takes time, effort, and stability. Take Europe. As LCB Seaman demonstrated in From Vienna to Versailles, Metternich’s system of the 19th century was in fact far less reactionary than most imagine. Metternich recognized that allowing the force of nationalism free reign would only lead to great carnage and destruction: Europe wasn’t ready for it politically. Belgium as a free nation would have been consumed by its stronger neighbors, for example, and only did maintain its neutrality as a result of the great power politics involved in its creation. Later, when nationalism finally did take Europe by storm, the continent was far better prepared for it. It wrecked havoc nonetheless, but was arguably far more benign than if it were let run unchecked at the end of Napoleon’s reign. Gradualism.

As to Mr. Robbin’s statement, I offer the following. Bush has indeed gone against the stability doctrine in more than a few cases. However, when it comes to Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Morocco, and others, the stability paradigm is still in full force. Change in these states (and others, such as those in Central Asia and Latin America) is not immediately forthcoming. Bush cannot afford to promote democracy by rapid change among America’s autocratic allies precisely because Washington can’t afford to lose these allies. Also, if Bush did decide to promote violent change, several Iraq-like situations would inevitable emerge. And these would involve massive amounts of oil, nuclear weapons, and relatively advanced armies. Not a pleasant combination in the least. However, gradual change through soft power and cultural diffusion is the way to change these states in the long-term. It’s painless and very effective.

Moreover, our current leadership does not have to face the possible end result that gave the stability paradigm its relevance and influence, namely the outbreak of global thermonuclear war. We look at crises differently today. They are no longer seen as potential catalysts for a mechanical, irrational escalatory spiral leading to certain destruction. Crises are opportunities. Change is good. And trying to delay or prevent necessary change leads in the long run to even greater instability.

Simply put, there are far more outcomes than certain destruction that make crisis and change on balance detrimental. Take the examples of the Middle East and Central Asia.

In the Middle East, unleashing the forces of radical change is extremely perilous. As is, instability in Iraq has crippled the flow of oil from that country and turned it into a violent battleground. Whether or not the country ultimately stabilizes isn’t the point (although, from my vantage point, it looks unlikely). The point is that the risks of upsetting the status quo were profound; as it concerns American interests, Iraq today seems worse of than the Iraq of old. Forcing the same change upon Saudi Arabia and others would be even more dangerous. The flow of oil, advanced arms technology, and a multitude of geostrategic ambitions are all at stake. The US could very well end up with a depressed global economy, wide-scale Eurasian violence, and some extremely angry Asian giants, all for a gambit that is unlikely to succeed. Even President Bush recognizes this reality and operates under its constraints, applying his new doctrine in a conservative manner. Gradual change through economic integration, cultural diffusion, and soft power influence is, again, the optimal way to influence these states.

In Central Asia, Washington has to put up with undemocratic regimes because no other policy options exist. Pressuring Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan into reform would be fruitless and pointless. American power over these states is tenuous at best, and insufficient to push unpalatable change. If Washington embarks on a policy of encouraging radical change, these nations will either simply fall back into the reactionary Russian fold or stop cooperating with the United States. Decidedly not worth it.

If however, one looks at Kazakhstan, the benefits of gradualism quickly emerge. The country is politically undemocratic to be sure. However, it has a vibrant economy and is fairly well governed. It’s slowly but surely moving toward democratic government on its own. Interference by the United States would merely cause unnecessary disruption.

The reason this is so important is that it signals to the people building free societies in the Middle East — in Iraq, Afghanistan, Lebanon, or elsewhere — that we are truly with them, that if they take action to create change we will support them.

As LCB Seaman has noted, successful revolution almost always requires the external intervention of a great power. It is only in the rarest cases that revolution succeeds on its own. Facing a well organized and powerful government, the revolutionaries typically don’t stand a chance. Lebanon, which has a rather rich history of political independence, required the intensive support of the world’s great powers to break free from Syria’s grip. Revolutionaries in the Middle East, even in Iran, can only hope succeed with armed support from America. After the costly fiasco in Iraq, US support will not be forthcoming. Facing down a punk like Syria is easy. Facing down Iran would require great effort at a significant price.

To conclude on a note that resonates a bit closer to home, I’d analogize the current discussion to fight for black civil rights in American society. Following the US Civil War came reconstruction, during which a flurry of radical and aggressive laws and Constitutional amendments were passed in order to empower African Americans and grant them equal civil rights. These legal strictures were accompanied by a radical policy of top down change by Washington. This radical phase of reconstruction represents the policy of radical change hailed by Mr. Robbins. It, of course, failed. It spawned a reactionary movement of epic proportions, which came to dominate Southern politics for a century. It was only through a century of gradual racial reconciliation and progress that civil rights for blacks became a reality. The court victories of the 1960s were gotten by a cautious and methodical attack by civil rights groups, which in turn depended on a century of gradual progress. The same can be said of today’s gay rights movement. It scored a Pyrrhic victory in Massachusetts with the legalization of homosexual marriage, as this radical step sparked a major reactionary rebellion. In the 2004 election, a plethora of states officially enacted strong bans against gay marriage; public opinion rallied against gay marriage.

In the final calculation, it’ll take a gradual change in political opinion and culture for strong gay rights to become widely accepted — radical change backfired. The same holds true in international relations.

(As an aside, the point must be made that Reconstruction, the Massachusetts court ruling, and the Revolutions of 1848 all provided a foundation for future progress to be made. This point deserves further exploration and research, and I intend to return to it. Yet for now, I’ll merely point out that I believe an intellectual and political foundation to be more important than a discrete set of past radical successes.)

Mr. Sandefur disputes my thesis that the world order is amoral by arguing that “there is a universal moral standard by which the acts of nations can be judged.”

I lay my opposition to Mr. Sandefur’s stance on several grounds. First, while I tend to agree that there is moral imperative in the state of nature to respect the natural rights enjoyed by mankind, I must emphasize that there is a difference between what ought to be and what is. Second, it important to distinguish between a nation-state and a person. Through centuries of evolution, the nation-state has turned into an impersonal institution that is finely tuned for advancing the interests of the body politic. Its policies are derived from a complex system of bureaucratic and legal structures that combine to have emergent properties unique from any individual actor. Comparing the morality of the general population with the morality of a nation-state is an exercise in futility, since the two are different beasts entirely. Whereas the individual may assimilate an act of immorality as a violation of the ethical standard of reason, the nation-state will view it through the institutional perspective of utility and consequences. While the bodies politic themselves of nation-states may view international affairs through the lens of morality, the actual formulation of policy is fairly well insulated from these views (particularly overseas). An outraged populace is only an effective agent of change when the circumstances are so extreme as to elevate its discontent into a political force with real power.

Thus, the evidence Mr. Sandefur provides to reinforce his first contention (that there is a “universal moral standard”), while valid, does not address the pertinent issue. The ideological presumptions intrinsic in the Declaration of Independence are declarations of what ought to be, not necessarily what is. However, simply because a state is prohibited from an act, of right, does not necessarily make that act rare or reviled (by other nations). The Declaration was a political document aimed at formally pronouncing American independence, and persuading the French to support the act of revolution. It failed to accomplish even that modest objective, however, since the other European powers had more practical concerns in mind. Other European powers eventually came to actively support the American cause as a way of combating their European enemy, Britain. The American Revolutionary War, in fact, runs to counter to Mr. Sandefur’s assertion, since the primary motivations were amoral (and the British did have their allies, despite whatever injustices they may have perpetrated).

Mr. Sandefur then contends that it’s not true “that a nation that tries to act in conformity with the international moral order gets left behind.” He begins by acknowledging that “many nations” (including undesirables such as “China, Cuba, North Korea, [and] Iran”) act without thought to the “natural moral order.” However, he then argues that the United States is unique in having “tended to abide by the natural moral order,” and has profited greatly because of it. John Mearsheimer, however, demolishes this contention in The Tragedy of Great Power Politics, concluding that “American foreign policy has usually been guided by realist logic, although the public pronouncements of its leaders might lead one to think otherwise.” In World War II, the United States fought the axis to preserve the balance of power and prevent the emergence of a dominant European or Asian power (as well as to effect gains in power). The US fought alongside tyrannical powers such as the Soviet Union to accomplish this goal, facilitating the expansion of their power to further American interests. The Cold War was also a product of underlying power realities. To contain the Soviet Union, American policymakers supported a great number of evil regimes and perpetrated a great number of what you would consider immoral acts precisely because the philosophical element of the fight was relatively unimportant. And in the period leading to World War I, the United States opposed Germany, which was widely considered a progressive constitutional state far more enlightened than many of its peers.

As for Mr. Sandefur’s argument that American benevolence have earned it “many dear friends, both on the national level and on the individual level (i.e., refugees),” I believe the situation is much more clouded. While it’s true that the principles the US has traditionally stood for (liberty, opportunity, and individualism) has earned it respect and admiration, response to American foreign policy has been decidedly ambivalent. Whenever American policy was beneficial to a nation, the populace of that nation held favorable views of the US. Whenever American policy was unfavorable to a nation (well exemplified by the growing resentment of American power across the world), the populace of that nation was generally hostile to the United States. In addition, as I noted above, the views of nations are very divergent from the views of the individual. Nations have not looked differently on the United States based on morals or values; instead, nations have changed their position towards Washington based on how it related to their strategic interests. European governments, for instance, have not based their policies towards the invasion of Iraq on morals. Instead, they have cooperated with or antagonized the US led effort based on their strategic interests. In any case, as I noted earlier, the opinions of the body politic harbor little significance in the scheme of things.

Mr. Sandefur also believes that when the United States has contravened the “international moral order,” it has suffered a loss of prestige. Strictly speaking, this is an accurate assessment. Prestige as a measure of moral standing and cultural rectitude suffers when a country violates the natural rights of humankind. However, prestige is necessarily subordinate to power and wealth as guiding factors in foreign policy. Having national prestige is nice, but it’s of little value to the practical concerns of international affairs. Acquiring power, on the other hand, often requires breaking natural law. World history is replete with examples of nations profiting greatly from contravening this order. History is also illustrative of how abiding by moral values is a dangerous proposition (consider my previous example of 16th century Spain, which collapsed due to King Philip II’s strong tilt to morality in foreign policy).

Unfortunately, in the state of nature, men (and particularly nations) transgress this law of reason whenever it suits their purpose, and most others lack the morality to act against them. Again, I assert that the amoral nature of real world politics necessitates consequentialism, lest a nation relinquish its competitive advantages and fall prey to a more amoral power.

(Cross posted at Freespace)

As a libertarian on domestic policy and a consequentialist on foreign policy, many would contend that my policies suffer from ideological dissonance, and lack a common philosophical thread. However, when one looks at it from a very broad perspective, a common philosophical tie emerges that connects these seemingly disparate world-views together. They key to understanding where I come from is to understand the nature of both the international and national systems.

In the national system, the government derives its power from the social contract accepted by both the body politic and the government. The government is granted hegemony (in this case implying a monopoly on the initiation of force) in exchange for acting as a fiduciary agent to secure the individual’s right to life, liberty, and property, as well as to accomplish other goals that the body politic considers legitimate. While philosophers have argued that the body politic retains ultimate sovereignty, and has the right of revolution against a government that breaks the social contract, in practicality the government assumes the power to use national sovereignty with great flexibility.

Since the government has hegemony over its domain, it has the power to institute the system of laws and codes it feels is most appropriate (subject to considerations of legitimacy which are irrelevant to this discussion). Thus, the government can freely adopt policies of libertarianism without the risk of facilitating the private violation of natural rights (since any violation can and will be contained and prosecuted). If one accepts the concept of natural rights (which has been promoted with far greater eloquence than I can hope to achieve by intellectual geniuses like John Locke), it’s clear that the government should implement policies congruent with securing these rights.

The international system, however, is multipolar. There is no one country with global hegemony - and the fundamental policy of power balancing ensures that it is highly unlikely one will ever rise. Countries, as self-interested institutional actors, are almost always seeking to maximize their power, wealth, and prestige. Nations act amorally, and regard the concept of natural rights as little more than paper conveniences. If a country tries to act with morality as its guiding force, it loses power and gets left behind. There is no universal power to secure the rights of all people; it can be said that countries are in a state of nature.

So consequentialism in foreign affairs is necessitated (in my view) by the nature of the highly competitive, amoral Hobbesian world order. Countries can and will try to reduce war and promote economic trade — a beneficial outcome for sure. However, the system will remain dangerous for even the greatest power. One does not have to look to deep to see the lessons from the decline of a great 16th century power, Spain. Spain was reduced to at best a third-rate power, and has never truly recovered since. A national government, as an agent of the people formed to advance the interests of the body politic, has a responsibility to ensure that the nation does not fall prey to foreign nemeses, and instead does the best job it can for its citizens.

(Cross posted at Freespace)