One world, rival theories.
By
Jack Snyder.
Foreign
Policy, Nov-Dec 2004 i145 p52(11)
Full
Text: COPYRIGHT 2004 Carnegie Endowment for International Peace
The study of international relations is
supposed to tell us how the world works. It's a tall order, and even the best
theories fall short. But they can puncture illusions and strip away the
simplistic brand names--such as "neocons" or "liberal
hawks"--that dominate foreign-policy debates. Even in a radically changing
world, the classic theories have a lot to say.
The U.S. government has endured several
painful rounds of scrutiny as it tries to figure out what went wrong on Sept.
11, 2001. The intelligence community faces radical restructuring; the military
has made a sharp pivot to face a new enemy; and a vast new federal agency has
blossomed to coordinate homeland security. But did September 11 signal a
failure of theory on par with the failures of intelligence and policy? Familiar
theories about how the world works still dominate academic debate. Instead of
radical change, academia has adjusted existing theories to meet new realities.
Has this approach succeeded? Does international relations theory still have
something to tell policymakers?
Six years ago, political scientist Stephen
M. Walt published a much-cited survey of the field in these pages ("One
World, Many Theories," Spring 1998). He sketched out three dominant
approaches: realism, liberalism, and an updated form of idealism called "constructivism."
Walt argued that these theories shape both public discourse and policy
analysis. Realism focuses on the shifting distribution of power among states.
Liberalism highlights the rising number of democracies and the turbulence of
democratic transitions. Idealism illuminates the changing norms of sovereignty,
human rights, and international justice, as well as the increased potency of
religious ideas in politics.
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The influence of these intellectual
constructs extends far beyond university classrooms and tenure committees.
Policymakers and public commentators invoke elements of all these theories when
articulating solutions to global security dilemmas. President George W. Bush
promises to fight terror by spreading liberal democracy to the Middle East and
claims that skeptics "who call themselves 'realists'.... have lost contact
with a fundamental reality" that "America is always more secure when
freedom is on the march." Striking a more eclectic tone, National Security
Advisor Condoleezza Rice, a former Stanford University political science
professor, explains that the new Bush doctrine is an amalgam of pragmatic
realism and Wilsonian liberal theory. During the recent presidential campaign, Sen.
John Kerry sounded remarkably similar: "Our foreign policy has achieved
greatness," he said, "only when it has combined realism and
idealism."
International relations theory also shapes
and informs the thinking of the public intellectuals who translate and
disseminate academic ideas. During the summer of 2004, for example, two
influential framers of neoconservative thought, columnist Charles Krauthammer
and political scientist Francis Fukuyama, collided over the implications of
these conceptual paradigms for U.S. policy in Iraq. Backing the Bush
administration's Middle East policy, Krauthammer argued for an assertive
amalgam of liberalism and realism, which he called "democratic
realism." Fukuyama claimed that Krauthammer's faith in the use of force and
the feasibility of democratic change in Iraq blinds him to the war's lack of
legitimacy, a failing that "hurts both the realist part of our agenda, by
diminishing our actual power, and the idealist portion of it, by undercutting
our appeal as the embodiment of certain ideas and values."
Indeed, when realism, liberalism, and
idealism enter the policymaking arena and public debate, they can sometimes
become intellectual window dressing for simplistic worldviews. Properly
understood, however, their policy implications are subtle and multifaceted.
Realism instills a pragmatic appreciation of the role of power but also warns
that states will suffer if they overreach. Liberalism highlights the
cooperative potential of mature democracies, especially when working together
through effective institutions, but it also notes democracies' tendency to
crusade against tyrannies and the propensity of emerging democracies to
collapse into violent ethnic turmoil. Idealism stresses that a consensus on
values must underpin any stable political order, yet it also recognizes that
forging such a consensus often requires an ideological struggle with the
potential for conflict.
Each theory offers a filter for looking at
a complicated picture. As such, they help explain the assumptions behind
political rhetoric about foreign policy. Even more important, the theories act
as a powerful check on each other. Deployed effectively, they reveal the
weaknesses in arguments that can lead to misguided policies.
IS REALISM STILL REALISTIC?
At realism's core is the belief that
international affairs is a struggle for power among self-interested states.
Although some of realism's leading lights, notably the late University of
Chicago political scientist Hans J. Morgenthau, are deeply pessimistic about
human nature, it is not a theory of despair. Clearsighted states can mitigate
the causes of war by finding ways to reduce the danger they pose to each other.
Nor is realism necessarily amoral; its advocates emphasize that a ruthless
pragmatism about power can actually yield a more peaceful world, if not an
ideal one.
In liberal democracies, realism is the
theory that everyone loves to hate. Developed largely by European emigres at
the end of World War II, realism claimed to be an antidote to the naive belief
that international institutions and law alone can preserve peace, a
misconception that this new generation of scholars believed had paved the way
to war. In recent decades, the realist approach has been most fully articulated
by U.S. theorists, but it still has broad appeal outside the United States as
well. The influential writer and editor Josef Joffe articulately comments on
Germany's strong realist traditions. (Mindful of the overwhelming importance of
U.S. power to Europe's development, Joffe once called the United States
"Europe's pacifier.") China's current foreign policy is grounded in
realist ideas that date back millennia. As China modernizes its economy and
enters international institutions such as the World Trade Organization, it
behaves in a way that realists understand well: developing its military slowly
but surely as its economic power grows, and avoiding a confrontation with
superior U.S. forces.
Realism gets some things right about the
post-9/11 world. The continued centrality of military strength and the
persistence of conflict, even in this age of global economic interdependence,
does not surprise realists. The theory's most obvious success is its ability to
explain the United States' forceful military response to the September 11
terrorist attacks. When a state grows vastly more powerful than any opponent,
realists expect that it will eventually use that power to expand its sphere of
domination, whether for security, wealth, or other motives. The United States
employed its military power in what some deemed an imperial fashion in large
part because it could.
It is harder for the normally state-centric
realists to explain why the world's only superpower announced a war against al
Qaeda, a nonstate terrorist organization. How can realist theory account for
the importance of powerful and violent individuals in a world of states?
Realists point out that the central battles in the "war on terror"
have been fought against two states (Afghanistan and Iraq), and that states, not
the United Nations or Human Rights Watch, have led the fight against terrorism.
Even if realists acknowledge the importance
of nonstate actors as a challenge to their assumptions, the theory still has
important things to say about the behavior and motivations of these groups. The
realist scholar Robert A. Pape, for example, has argued that suicide terrorism
can be a rational, realistic strategy for the leadership of national liberation
movements seeking to expel democratic powers that occupy their homelands. Other
scholars apply standard theories of conflict in anarchy to explain ethnic
conflict in collapsed states. Insights from political realism--a profound and
wide-ranging intellectual tradition rooted in the enduring philosophy of
Thucydides, Niccolo Machiavelli, and Thomas Hobbes--are hardly rendered
obsolete because some nonstate groups are now able to resort to violence.
Post-9/11 developments seem to undercut one
of realism's core concepts: the balance of power. Standard realist doctrine predicts
that weaker states will ally to protect themselves from stronger ones and
thereby form and reform a balance of power. So, when Germany unified in the
late 19th century and became Europe's leading military and industrial power,
Russia and France (and later, Britain) soon aligned to counter its power. Yet
no combination of states or other powers can challenge the United States
militarily, and no balancing coalition is imminent. Realists are scrambling to
find a way to fill this hole in the center of their theory. Some theorists
speculate that the United States' geographic distance and its relatively benign
intentions have tempered the balancing instinct. Second-tier powers tend to
worry more about their immediate neighbors and even see the United States as a
helpful source of stability in regions such as East Asia. Other scholars insist
that armed resistance by U.S. foes in Iraq, Afghanistan, and elsewhere, and
foot-dragging by its formal allies actually constitute the beginnings of
balancing against U.S. hegemony. The United States' strained relations with
Europe offer ambiguous evidence: French and German opposition to recent U.S.
policies could be seen as classic balancing, but they do not resist U.S.
dominance militarily. Instead, these states have tried to undermine U.S. moral
legitimacy and constrain the superpower in a web of multilateral institutions
and treaty regimes--not what standard realist theory predicts.
These conceptual difficulties
notwithstanding, realism is alive, well, and creatively reassessing how its
root principles relate to the post-9/11 world. Despite changing configurations
of power, realists remain steadfast in stressing that policy must be based on
positions of real strength, not on either empty bravado or hopeful illusions about
a world without conflict. In the run-up to the recent Iraq war, several
prominent realists signed a public letter criticizing what they perceived as an
exercise in American hubris. And in the continuing aftermath of that war, many
prominent thinkers called for a return to realism. A group of scholars and
public intellectuals (myself included) even formed the Coalition for a
Realistic Foreign Policy, which calls for a more modest and prudent approach.
Its statement of principles argues that "the move toward empire must be
halted immediately." The coalition, though politically diverse, is largely
inspired by realist theory. Its membership of seemingly odd
bedfellows--including former Democratic Sen. Gary Hart and Scott McConnell, the
executive editor of the American Conservative magazine--illustrates the power
of international relations theory to cut through often ephemeral political
labels and carry debate to the underlying assumptions.
THE DIVIDED HOUSE OF LIBERALISM
The liberal school of international
relations theory, whose most famous proponents were German philosopher Immanuel
Kant and U.S. President Woodrow Wilson, contends that realism has a stunted
vision that cannot account for progress in relations between nations. Liberals
foresee a slow but inexorable journey away from the anarchic world the realists
envision, as trade and finance forge ties between nations, and democratic norms
spread. Because elected leaders are accountable to the people (who bear the burdens
of war), liberals expect that democracies will not attack each other and will
regard each other's regimes as legitimate and nonthreatening. Many liberals
also believe that the rule of law and transparency of democratic processes make
it easier to sustain international cooperation, especially when these practices
are enshrined in multilateral institutions.
Liberalism has such a powerful presence
that the entire U.S. political spectrum, from neoconservatives to human rights
advocates, assumes it as largely self-evident. Outside the United States, as
well, the liberal view that only elected governments are legitimate and
politically reliable has taken hold. So it is no surprise that liberal themes
are constantly invoked as a response to today's security dilemmas. But the last
several years have also produced a fierce tug-of-war between disparate strains
of liberal thought. Supporters and critics of the Bush administration, in
particular, have emphasized very different elements of the liberal canon.
For its part, the Bush administration
highlights democracy promotion while largely turning its back on the
international institutions that most liberal theorists champion. The U.S.
National Security Strategy of September 2002, famous for its support of
preventive war, also dwells on the need to promote democracy as a means of
fighting terrorism and promoting peace. The Millennium Challenge program
allocates part of U.S. foreign aid according to how well countries improve
their performance on several measures of democratization and the rule of taw.
The White House's steadfast support for promoting democracy in the Middle
East--even with turmoil in Iraq and rising anti-Americanism in the Arab
world--demonstrates liberalism's emotional and rhetorical power.
In many respects, liberalism's claim to be
a wise policy guide has plenty of hard data behind it. During the last two
decades, the proposition that democratic institutions and values help states
cooperate with each other is among the most intensively studied in all of
international relations, and it has held up reasonably well. indeed, the belief
that democracies never fight wars against each other is the closest thing we
have to an iron law in social science.
But the theory has some very important
corollaries, which the Bush administration glosses over as it draws upon the
democracy-promotion element of liberal thought. Columbia University political
scientist Michael W. Doyle's articles on democratic peace warned that, though
democracies never fight each other, they are prone to launch messianic
struggles against warlike authoritarian regimes to "make the world safe
for democracy." It was precisely American democracy's tendency to
oscillate between self-righteous crusading and jaded isolationism that prompted
early Cold War realists' call for a more calculated, prudent foreign policy.
Countries transitioning to democracy, with
weak political institutions, are more likely than other states to get into
international and civil wars. In the last 15 years, wars or large-scale civil
violence followed experiments with mass electoral democracy in countries
including Armenia, Burundi, Ethiopia, Indonesia, Russia, and the former
Yugoslavia. In part, this violence is caused by ethnic groups' competing
demands for national self-determination, often a problem in new, multiethnic
democracies. More fundamental, emerging democracies often have nascent
political institutions that cannot channel popular demands in constructive
directions or credibly enforce compromises among rival groups. In this setting,
democratic accountability works imperfectly, and nationalist politicians can
hijack public debate. The violence that is vexing the experiment with democracy
in Iraq is just the latest chapter in a turbulent story that began with the French
Revolution.
Contemporary liberal theory also points out
that the rising democratic tide creates the presumption that all nations ought
to enjoy the benefits of self-determination. Those left out may undertake
violent campaigns to secure democratic rights. Some of these movements direct
their struggles against democratic or semidemocratic states that they consider
occupying powers--such as in Algeria in the 1950s, or Chechnya, Palestine, and
the Tamil region of Sri Lanka today. Violence may also be directed at
democratic supporters of oppressive regimes, much like the U.S. backing of the
governments of Saudi Arabia and Egypt. Democratic regimes make attractive
targets for terrorist violence by national liberation movements precisely
because they are accountable to a cost-conscious electorate.
Nor is it clear to contemporary liberal
scholars that nascent democracy and economic liberalism can always cohabitate.
Free trade and the multifaceted globalization that advanced democracies promote
often buffet transitional societies. World markets' penetration of societies
that run on patronage and protectionism can disrupt social relations and spur
strife between potential winners and losers. In other cases, universal free
trade can make separatism look attractive, as small regions such as Aceh in
Indonesia can lay claim to lucrative natural resources. So far, the
trade-fueled boom in China has created incentives for improved relations with
the advanced democracies, but it has also set the stage for a possible showdown
between the relatively wealthy coastal entrepreneurs and the still impoverished
rural masses.
While aggressively advocating the virtues
of democracy, the Bush administration has shown little patience for these
complexities in liberal thought--or for liberalism's emphasis on the importance
of international institutions. Far from trying to assure other powers that the
United States would adhere to a constitutional order, Bush "unsigned"
the International Criminal Court statute, rejected the Kyoto environmental
agreement, dictated take-it-or-leave-it arms control changes to Russia, and
invaded Iraq despite opposition at the United Nations and among close allies.
Recent liberal theory offers a thoughtful
challenge to the administration's policy choices. Shortly before September 11,
political scientist G. John Ikenberry studied attempts to establish
international order by the victors of hegemonic struggles in 1815, 1919, 1945,
and 1989. He argued that even the most powerful victor needed to gain the
willing cooperation of the vanquished and other weak states by offering a
mutually attractive bargain, codified in an international constitutional order.
Democratic victors, he found, have the best chance of creating a working
constitutional order, such as the Bretton Woods system after World War If,
because their transparency and legalism make their promises credible.
Does the Bush administration's resistance
to institution building refute Ikenberry's version of liberal theory? Some
realists say it does, and that recent events demonstrate that international
institutions cannot constrain a hegemonic power if its preferences change. But
international institutions can nonetheless help coordinate outcomes that are in
the long-term mutual interest of both the hegemon and the weaker states.
Ikenberry did not contend that hegemonic democracies are immune from mistakes.
States can act in defiance of the incentives established by their position in
the international system, but they will suffer the consequences and probably
learn to correct course. In response to Bush's unilateralist stance, Ikenberry
wrote that the incentives for the United States to take the lead in
establishing a multilateral constitutional order remain powerful. Sooner or
later, the pendulum will swing back.
IDEALISM'S NEW CLOTHING
Idealism, the belief that foreign policy is
and should be guided by ethical and legal standards, also has a long pedigree.
Before World War II forced the United States to acknowledge a less pristine
reality, Secretary of State Henry Stimson denigrated espionage on the grounds
that "gentlemen do not read each other's mail." During the Cold War,
such naive idealism acquired a bad name in the Kissingerian corridors of power
and among hardheaded academics. Recently, a new version of idealism--called
constructivism by its scholarly adherents--returned to a prominent place in
debates on international relations theory. Constructivism, which holds that
social reality is created through debate about values, often echoes the themes
that human rights and international justice activists sound. Recent events seem
to vindicate the theory's resurgence; a theory that emphasizes the role of
ideologies, identities, persuasion, and transnational networks is highly
relevant to understanding the post-9/11 world.
The most prominent voices in the
development of constructivist theory have been American, but Europe's role is
significant. European philosophical currents helped establish constructivist
theory, and the European Journal of International Relations is one of the
principal outlets for constructivist work. Perhaps most important, Europe's
increasingly legalistic approach to international relations, reflected in the
process of forming the European Union out of a collection of sovereign states,
provides fertile soil for idealist and constructivist conceptions of
international politics.
Whereas realists dwell on the balance of
power and liberals on the power of international trade and democracy,
constructivists believe that debates about ideas are the fundamental building
blocks of international life. Individuals and groups become powerful if they
can convince others to adopt their ideas. People's understanding of their
interests depends on the ideas they hold. Constructivists find absurd the idea
of some identifiable and immutable "national interest," which some
realists cherish. Especially in liberal societies, there is overlap between
constructivist and liberal approaches, but the two are distinct.
Constructivists contend that their theory is deeper than realism and liberalism
because it explains the origins of the forces that drive those competing
theories.
For constructivists, international change
results from the work of intellectual entrepreneurs who proselytize new ideas
and "name and shame" actors whose behavior deviates from accepted
standards. Consequently, constructivists often study the role of transnational
activist networks--such as Human Rights Watch or the International Campaign to
Ban Landmines--in promoting change. Such groups typically uncover and publicize
information about violations of legal or moral standards at least rhetorically
supported by powerful democracies, including "disappearances" during
the Argentine military's rule in the late 1970s, concentration camps in Bosnia,
and the huge number of civilian deaths from land mines. This publicity is then
used to press governments to adopt specific remedies, such as the establishment
of a war crimes tribunal or the adoption of a landmine treaty. These movements
often make pragmatic arguments as well as idealistic ones, but their
distinctive power comes from the ability to highlight deviations from deeply
held norms of appropriate behavior.
Progressive causes receive the most
attention from constructivist scholars, but the theory also helps explain the
dynamics of illiberal transnational forces, such as Arab nationalism or
Islamist extremism. Professor Michael N. Barnett's 1998 book Dialogues in Arab
Politics: Negotiations in Regional Order examines how the divergence between
state borders and transnational Arab political identities requires vulnerable
leaders to contend for legitimacy with radicals throughout the Arab world--a
dynamic that often holds moderates hostage to opportunists who take extreme
stances.
Constructivist thought can also yield
broader insights about the ideas and values in the current international order.
In his 2001 book, Revolutions in Sovereignty: How Ideas Shaped Modern
International Relations, political scientist Daniel Philpott demonstrates how
the religious ideas of the Protestant Reformation helped break down the
medieval political order and provided a conceptual basis for the modern system
of secular sovereign states. After September 11, Philpott focused on the
challenge to the secular international order posed by political Islam.
"The attacks and the broader resurgence of public religion," he says,
ought to lead international relations scholars to "direct far more energy
to understanding the impetuses behind movements across the globe that are
reorienting purposes and policies." He notes that both liberal human
rights movements and radical Islamic movements have transnational structures
and principled motivations that challenge the traditional supremacy of
self-interested states in international politics. Because constructivists
believe that ideas and values helped shape the modern state system, they expect
intellectual constructs to be decisive in transforming it--for good or ill.
When it comes to offering advice, however,
constructivism points in two seemingly incompatible directions. The insight
that political orders arise from shared understanding highlights the need for
dialogue across cultures about the appropriate rules of the game. This
prescription dovetails with liberalism's emphasis on establishing an agreed
international constitutional order. And, yet, the notion of cross-cultural dialogue
sits awkwardly with many idealists' view that they already know right and
wrong. For these idealists, the essential task is to shame rights abusers and
cajole powerful actors into promoting proper values and holding perpetrators
accountable to international (generally Western) standards. As with realism and
liberalism, constructivism can be many things to many people.
STUMPED BY CHANGE
None of the three theoretical traditions
has a strong ability to explain change--a significant weakness in such turbulent
times. Realists failed to predict the end of the Cold War, for example. Even
after it happened, they tended to assume that the new system would become
multipolar ("back to the future," as the scholar John J. Mearsheimer
put it). Likewise, the liberal theory of democratic peace is stronger on what
happens after states become democratic than in predicting the timing of
democratic transitions, let alone prescribing how to make transitions happen
peacefully. Constructivists are good at describing changes in norms and ideas,
but they are weak on the material and institutional circumstances necessary to
support the emergence of consensus about new values and ideas.
With such uncertain guidance from the
theoretical realm, it is no wonder that policymakers, activists, and public
commentators fall prey to simplistic or wishful thinking about how to effect
change by, say, invading Iraq or setting up an International Criminal Court. In
lieu of a good theory of change, the most prudent course is to use the insights
of each of the three theoretical traditions as a check on the irrational
exuberance of the others. Realists should have to explain whether policies
based on calculations of power have sufficient legitimacy to last. Liberals
should consider whether nascent democratic institutions can fend off powerful
interests that oppose them, or how international institutions can bind a
hegemonic power inclined to go its own way. Idealists should be asked about the
strategic, institutional, or material conditions in which a set of ideas is
likely to take hold.
Theories of international relations claim
to explain the way international politics works, but each of the currently
prevailing theories falls well short of that goal. One of the principal contributions
that international relations theory can make is not predicting the future but
providing the vocabulary and conceptual framework to ask hard questions of
those who think that changing the world is easy.
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Want to Know More?
Stephen M. Walt's "International
Relations: One World, Many Theories" (FOREIGN POLICY, Spring 1998) is a
valuable survey of the field. For a more recent survey, see Robert Jervis,
"Theories of War in an Era of Leading Power Peace" (American
Political Science Review, March 2002).
Important recent realist contributions
include John J. Mearsheimer's The Tragedy of Great Power Politics (New York:
Norton, 2001) and Fareed Zakaria, From Wealth to Power: The Unusual Origins of
America's World Role (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1998). Important
realist-inspired analyses of post-9/11 issues include "The Strategic Logic
of Suicide Terrorism" (American Political Science Review, August 2003), by
Robert A. Pape; "The Compulsive Empire" (FOREIGN POLICY, July/August
2003), by Robert Jervis; and "An Unnecessary War" (FOREIGN POLICY,
January/February 2003), by John Mearsheimer and Stephen Walt. Read about a
current effort to inject realism into U.S. foreign policy at the Web site of
the Coalition for a Realistic Foreign Policy. For a worried look at the realist
resurgence, see Lawrence F. Kaplan, "Springtime for Realism" (The New
Republic, June 21, 2004).
Recent additions to the liberal canon are
Bruce Russett and John R. Oneal's Triangulating Peace: Democracy,
Interdependence, and International Organizations (New York: Norton, 2001) and
G. John Ikenberry's After Victory: Institutions, Strategic Restraint, and the
Rebuilding of Order After Major Wars (Princeton: Princeton University Press,
2001). To read about the dangers of democratization in countries with weak
institutions, see Edward D. Mansfield and Jack Snyder, Electing to Fight: Why
Emerging Democracies Go to War (Cambridge: MIT Press, 2005) and Zakaria's The
Future of Freedom: Illiberal Democracy at Home and Abroad (New York: W.W. Norton
& Co., 2003). Charles Krauthammer and Francis Fukuyama tussle over strains
of liberalism in a recent exchange. Krauthammer makes the case for spreading
democracy in "Democratic Realism: An American Foreign Policy for a
Unipolar World," an address to the American Enterprise Institute, and
Fukuyama responds in "The Neoconservative Moment," (The National
Interest, Summer 2004). Krauthammer's rejoinder, "In Defense of Democratic
Realism" (The National Interest, Fall 2004), counters Fukuyama's claims.
Read more on constructivism in Alexander
Wendt, Social Theory of International Politics (New York: Cambridge University
Press, 1999). Margaret E. Keck and Kathryn Sikkink look at constructivism at
work in Activists Beyond Borders: Advocacy Networks in International Politics
(Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1998). More focused works include Sikkink's
Mixed Messages: U.S. Human Rights Policy and Latin America (Ithaca: Cornell
University Press, 2004) and Michael N. Barnert's Dialogues in Arab Politics:
Negotiations in Regional Order (New York: Columbia University Press, 1998).
>> For links to relevant Web sites,
access to the FP Archive, and a comprehensive index of related FOREIGN POLICY
articles, go to www.foreignpolicy.com.
Jack Snyder is the Robert and Renee Belfer
professor of international relations at Columbia University.