Showing posts with label Robert Kagan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Kagan. Show all posts

Here Is Humanity! II: To Blur Is and Should in Reality, Composing, 13/09/2016

The core concept of my Utopias book is the relationship between the world as it is and the world as we want it to be. That relationship is always one of becoming, whether it’s a real process or it never gets out of our imaginations.

Thinking about Robert Kagan’s essay last week, I realized that it made a very stark contrast with my own stance (and Etienne Balibar’s, and Antonio Negri’s, and many others) on what politics and activism is for.

Done well, or done badly, an activist for any cause is trying to change the world. I think a proper utopia will be centred around a particular range of values. I’m not about to grant that a radical white supremacist is a utopian in the sense I’m exploring, for example. That ideology is fundamentally cruel and destructive – it frees no one.

From an anniversary ceremony marking the 70th year
of the United Nations' existence. This was another
institution whose fundamental philosophical goal was
forging a new, more peaceful, self-conception for
humanity. The ceremony was held in San Francisco,
an important site, given its status as the capitol of a
fictional Federation with a similar nature.
So in that sense, Utopias explores how we figure out how to free the world.

Contrast Kagan and Balibar now. Balibar – even though he’s radical in many ways – ultimately keeps his faith in the European Union, for example.* It’s a space that allows us to create a new concept of power, a new social identity.

* Faith in the European Union was much easier to hold in 2003, when Balibar was compiling this book of his essays, We, the People of Europe?.

The EU’s core goal was to move European people away from defining themselves as members of a nation. Do you understand how radical and crazy that idea is? European politics and institutions literally invented the modern concept of nation. They exported this idea as the organizing principle of our entire international institutional and legal structure.

The concept of the nation even pervades the basic language of politics. Down to the word ‘international.’ A little exaggerated, but this is a truth. It’s the United Nations, after all – not the United Cultures, United Lands, United Societies, United Humanity, or even United Peoples.

That’s how radical it is to build a massive bureaucratic institution whose long-term cultural goal is pressing European societies to stop thinking of themselves as nations. 

Pursuing that kind of change is an enormous risk. You’re developing whole new political and legal institutions that have never really been tried before. The comprehensiveness and physical scale of European Union institutions and reach had no precedent in human history. 

Something that risky is always in danger of collapsing for some unforeseen reason or some terrible crisis. I feel like the European Union had become such a huge and powerful economic force that, popularly, we didn’t really believe it could fail. But it’s only a few decades old, and the Brexit vote just happened a few months ago.

It may take several tries to get an institution like the EU to work. And from a perspective like Robert Kagan’s, it’s ridiculous to try. 

Geert Wilders, one of the most ridiculous-looking
examples of the sneering face of European nationalism's
last primal horrifying scream. I like to mock them as
much as I can, to remind me that Nazis are human.
Kagan made a fundamental challenge to the viability of the European Union and the standard European approach to global politics as institutional and legal. Europeans can only pursue their experiments in international institutions and build their foreign policy around international law, because they were weak. Most importantly, they were weak and had a protector.

Kagan saw a world where, in international relations, states and militaries were the ultimate power. Your city may be a global economic hub, but it won’t be for much longer after our army pounds it to rubble and kills millions of your people. 

Accepting that brutality makes the foreign policy school of realism deserve its name. It’s a political philosophy that’s literally throwing up your hands and damning the world to hell. It accepts that there is nothing anyone can do to make the world more peaceful or just. 

If you want to build peaceful institutions in your own corner of the world, you need an ally with a massive army to protect you from the other massive armies that will inevitably destroy you. And at least temporarily, that may be necessary.

Because the experiments don’t always work. If anything has broken the EU, for example, it’s that the migrant crisis came too soon. Europe was in the middle of dealing with a reactionary nationalist insurrection – the last screams of the old national order. Leaders like Jorg Haider, Pim Fortuyn, Jean-Marie and Marine Le Pen, Nigel Farage, Viktor Orban, Geert Wilders, and Beata Szydlo. 

Too many people still believed in the nation to forget about defending its ethnic and territorial integrity from a wave of suffering people. 

Maybe if European society had managed to weather one more generation without disruption, they’d have helped enough people think without nationhood. 

Experiments are fragile, and they need to be protected. The most valuable experiments are the ones that are hardest to protect, political experiments. But if the experiment is successful, they won’t need protection anymore. No one would.

Here Is Humanity! I: There Will Always Be Shit, A History Boy, 09/09/2016

Check the introduction to this series here: Humanity Is Gone! – Here Is Humanity!
• • •
One of the things I really enjoyed about that book of Etienne Balibar essays on nationalism is the flashback. We, the People of Europe? was published in the aftermath of the September 11 attacks, and many of its essays spoke to the issues that dominated politics of the time.

What dominated those politics was George W Bush and his impending invasion of Iraq. I was part of the opposition, and I made my voice heard as loud as I could. I was part of my city’s local media – I attended and covered protests, I interviewed people about their stances. 

The protests against Bush's invasion of Iraq that I covered
in Newfoundland were never quite this big, of course.
But they had a good, healthy size.
One of my courses in the same year that book was published even had a major paper project where we analyzed the Iraq invasion vote in the Security Council from the geopolitical perspective of our choice of permanent member. It became my first essay writing award as a student – declared the best undergraduate paper in all the humanities and social science disciplines of my 12,000-strong student body.*

* And I won again two years later for an essay about Michel Foucault’s concept of power. You can’t say I didn’t get a lot of encouragement to find a career in the academy.

The Iraq invasion and the Bush years were when I became politically mature. How I thought about W’s government and the unfolding disaster of that war was the starting point for a lot of my views about politics, war, activism, and ethics today. And I think that’s true for a lot of people my age.

The storm of conflicting ideas that flew around in that turbulent time** informs the philosophical standpoint of Utopias. It’s examining the paradoxes of buoyant idealism co-existing with stark pessimism.

** Like the turbulence has ever stopped. It was the time when turbulence began. It only felt turbulent at the time, because we were leaving the 1990s, when all the conflicts the Bush years brought to the forefront had a low enough intensity that we could ignore them.

In the book’s last essay, Balibar is trying to squeeze what utopian energy he can from the depressing situation of neoconservatism’s triumph. When he gave the talk that became that essay, the United States was barrelling toward the invasion of Iraq. One of the pro-war voices that Balibar singles out for critique is Robert Kagan, one of the leading neoconservative intellectuals.

Robert Kagan, today of the Brookings Institute, who
believes in the inevitability of war and the eternal
necessity of military power for peace.
Kagan offers a sobering challenge to any idealist of world peace who sees a model to be followed in the project of the European Union. In his essay “Power and Weakness,” Kagan basically calls bullshit on the idealism of international law, and pretty much any political program aimed at establishing perpetual world peace under the rule of law.

You can read the whole essay without having to look for pirated versions – it’s still available for free. And the argument is essentially that European state leaders have only focussed on international diplomacy and rule of law as the best route to peace because they can no longer bomb their enemies into submission.

The world, in Kagan’s view, will always be a violent place where everyone can potentially descend into horrifying war with everyone else. And I’m not disputing this claim – he has plenty of evidence on his side. 

The world is a place where massive military power, or a good relationship with it, will always be necessary to survive. Even while being such a massive military power invites violence on you, makes you a target.

Europe used to be a massive military power. Several, in fact. Kagan uses the term machtpolitik, foreign relations based on force and the threat of force. But centuries of state-vs-state military violence since the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648 created the modern Western state? Eventually, it led to a point of mutually assured destruction.

And the destruction happened. It was called the first two world wars. European military force was so decimated by decades of total war that they could no longer really function as global military powers anymore. European economic power – especially as the EU – was the basis of its global power after their military implosion.

European politics has been associated with international
law for so long that we forget that a militarist philosophy
remained strong in Western European nations for a long
time after the Second World War. Kagan discusses in
"Power and Weakness" how the peaceful European
continent of the early 2000s was the product of
militarists like France's Charles de Gaulle essentially
getting neutered by the shadows of American
military might.
That's nothing to sneeze at – we’ve seen many examples of Europe’s economic power. Both for good, as in the global growth of European companies with social democratic models of worker relations and innovation like Siemens and IKEA. But also for ill, as in the European Central Bank’s punitive destruction of the Greek economy.

Yet for Kagan, none of this is enough, because it’s still possible for any truly great power to carpet-bomb all the major countries of Europe to rubble and blood without serious resistance. For Kagan, the definition of great power is solely in military terms, for this exact reason. 

So when you bring those premises to your political thinking, of course you won’t seen any alternative to the massive state violence of a military with global reach. It’s not as if those militaries can’t get a lot of stuff done. Not that you’d really want to do any of what a massive military can do when it really gets moving on a mission.

For Kagan, taken as the voice of the model neoconservative military hawk, European leaders could choose a path of diplomacy and international rule of law for their global politics because they had a patron. They had a protector. They had a country who was willing to front the military budget and the lives of its soldiers.

The USA had their back. The American military would do the dirty work so European leaders and people could afford to be peaceniks. Is that the only way peace can be possible? . . . . To Be Continued