A 21st Century Worldview: Interviewing Ahmet Davutoğlu

28 Mar

A 21st Century Worldview: Interviewing Ahmet Davutoğlu

[Prefatory Note: Below is an interview that I conducted with the former Turkish Prime Minister and Foreign Minister, Ahmet Davutoğlu, published in Middle East Monitor on March 23-24, 2020. His responses to questions 18-20 concern the impacts of the COVID-19 crisis on the world. The interview is long, yet a worthwhile overview how the most important intellectual political figure in Turkey views global and national reality given the shape of recent developments. It was framed to touch upon the main themes of his pathbreaking contribution to the scholarly literature, Systemic Earthquake and the Struggle for World Order, published in 2020 by Cambridge University Press, available via Amazon. (disclosure: I wrote the foreword)  

Davutoğlu has recently formed the Future Party to work in opposition to the AKP led government headed by President Erdoğan, with an intention to mount an electoral challenge in coming years. The main programmatic feature of the Future Party is its advocacy of pluralist & inclusive democracy as distinct from the contentions of majoritarian democracy.]

  1. You were a prominent figure in academic circles before you entered political life. What prompted you to become a politician?

Whatever field we work in, the unavoidable fact is that we live in a certain space and flow of history. Our existence is defined and limited by the dimensions of time and space. If you are an academic in the social sciences, especially international relations, the influence of these space and time dimensions are felt even more deeply. In a sense, they form an existential framework for your own test tube.[i] Theoretical academic studies beyond the test tube draw one into the reality that exists within it; the conclusions one reaches within this reality start influencing one’s academic work’s theoretical perspective.

This intellectual dialectic between academic theory and socio-political reality also applies to me. My journey between these two fields has been a dynamic process rather than a single, sudden decision. I presented my doctoral dissertation in comparative political theory, later published as Alternative Paradigms[ii] in June 1990, two months before Saddam Hussein’s invasion of Kuwait in the year the Cold War ended. History’s rate of flow has accelerated here in the Middle East. In a sense, the time/space dimension of our ontological existence has been reshaped.

 

It was in this context that I wrote articles criticising the End of History hypothesis that claimed that far from gaining pace, the flow of history, when it came to ideas, had actually slowed to a virtual halt; a theory that gained popularity at that time and found adherents in Turkey as well. In these articles I stressed that we should not be fooled by overly optimistic visions as the Cold War came to an end; on the contrary, we were in a far more intense philosophical-political crisis in which decision-makers in Turkey, a country that lay at the centre of all these shifts, needed to be prepared for all kinds of surprises and alternative scenarios. People took a closer look at my views in the wake of developments in Bosnia, which gave Turkey and the world a psycho-political shock. I rejected offers to enter Turkish politics in the 1995, 1999 and 2002 general elections – offers that came during the establishment of new political parties as well. I said I would remain in academic life with a view to pursuing academic studies, seeking to make sense of all these processes and would only be able to offer theoretical advice.

 

However, it sometimes happens that a person’s own work has a transformative impact on that person’s own life as well. Within a short time of its publication in June 2001, my book Strategic Depth, which analysed regional and global post-Cold War developments and specified Turkey’s strategic position in this new historical context, made a widespread impact in universities and military academies. This led me to accept an invitation to act as chief advisor to the then-prime minister, Abdullah Gül, and later Recep Tayyip Erdoğan. This invitation reflected the change of government in 2002. At the time, Turkey faced three huge issues that would determine its strategic future: the Iraq War, the EU accession process and the Cyprus negotiations.

 

For seven and a half years I served as chief advisor. This period involved me in a large number of policy processes responsive to these three overall challenges, a few noteworthy examples of which are mentioned in the book Systemic Earthquake. For Turkey and for me, it represented a transition from theory to practice, as well as from scholarship and teaching to politics. Because of my determination to get back to academic life, I respectfully turned down Prime Minister Erdoğan’s suggestion that I be included as a parliamentary candidate with a possible ministerial post after the 2007 elections. The reason I gave for declining was that I intended to return to academic life soon after the elections.

The main factor behind my decision to finally enter into politics was the closure case brought against the AK Party (the Justice and Development Party). The case was initiated about eight months after the party’s overwhelming victory with 46.6 per cent of the votes in the July 2007 general elections – a result that was impressive in the Turkish multiparty context. I regarded this case as a declaration of war against democracy in my country, which amounted to a virtual coup attempt. At that point, I went to see Prime Minister Erdoğan and told him that I would not hesitate to take part in politics at a time when our democracy was under threat, and that I was ready to assume any duty to protect democracy. In response, I was appointed as foreign minister in May 2009 and prime minister in August 2014.

In a nutshell, two principal motives prompted my longer-term involvement in political life: the moral untenability of staying aloof from the practical side of the history, of which I was trying to make theoretical sense, and a sense of democratic responsibility to my country and people as they found themselves at the centre of a turbulent historical process that was gaining ever-increasing momentum, and was challenging the leadership of the country to minimise risks and take advantage of opportunities.

  1. This makes me wonder: even with such strong motivational factors, was it difficult for you to make the transition from the academy to the government, having resisted the call for so long? Abandoning teaching and scholarship? Making political compromises in the course of shaping policies and reaching decisions?

Being an academic is not just a profession, but a way of life. You can adapt to changes in your life, but you cannot totally abandon an intellectual calling. Taking on political decision-making roles may limit academia’s field of operation, but cannot erase its nature as something integrated into one’s personality. This limitation is related to the fact that these two areas call for different psychologies and methods, with respect to ethical and professional qualities. The academic life requires pure freedom. The moment one starts self-censoring, one’s freedom of thought evaporates. Yet the diplomatic/political field consists mostly of process management, a process that requires tact, discretion and a certain amount of secrecy. If one discloses one’s views and assessments to the public with an academic’s degree of freedom, one will eventually lose the ability to manage these processes, as well as the confidence of colleagues in government.

This difference in method led me to stop publishing and media activities, including works that were ready for publication, when I assumed duties as chief advisor and ambassador, and started getting involved in diplomatic processes. After continuing my university lectures for about two years, I stopped my teaching activities as well. It seemed to me that my frequent absences abroad in connection with Turkey’s European Union (EU) accession negotiations were imposing unfair burdens on my students.

None of these adjustments meant that I entirely abandoned my identity as an academic, which was very much part and parcel of my personality. There were times when I turned diplomatic/political meetings and even mass campaign rallies into lectures, without being aware of doing so. There were also times when I took refuge from the pressures of diplomatic/political activities by writing and reading. In this context I also took great pleasure in intellectual discourse with counterparts who shared an intellectual/academic background that went beyond the normal diplomatic process. I would also make a point of visiting bookstores in the cities where I found myself, taking full advantage of gaps that allowed me some free time during even the most critical diplomatic talks. Knowing of my proclivities, ambassadorial colleagues involved in our overseas trips would locate the best bookstores in the cities we were visiting, and then make arrangements sensitive to the fact that I might pop out from meetings at any moment to satisfy this book-craving impulse of mine.

All this gave me a deeper understanding of the reason why Ottoman rulers became proficient in some area of handicrafts or fine arts: Süleyman the Magnificent, like his father, in the art of jewellery making, Abdul Hamid in carpentry, Selim III in music, and almost all of them in writing poetry. After intense all-day diplomatic/political activities, it is almost impossible to fall asleep as the issues being discussed agitated my mind to such a degree that sleep became impossible, or it even happened that my dreams would often continue the discussions of the previous day. In such circumstances, the best way to relax is to take refuge in a favourite habit or hobby that will divert you from an intense daily rhythm. So, I would often make a late-night visit to my library before going to bed, or spread books out over my desk after getting the required briefings on long-haul flights and after everyone had gone to sleep, resting my mind and soul by reading and writing. I wrote Civilizations and Cities, published a month after I left the prime ministry, in these intervals during my many long flights.

But no matter how much effort I devoted to making up for what was lacking, I still missed teaching and scholarship. In time, I saw more closely that there are no more loyal friends than books and no more valuable investment in the future than students. When I became foreign minister, diplomats who had worked with me in my capacity as an academic and chief advisor carried on calling me “Professor-Hodja” instead of “Minister” out of habit, which acted as pleasant reminders of the life I had partially left behind. When they apologised for their apparent faux pas, I told them that all posts and positions are transient, but teaching and academic work endures. And today, after I have left my government experiences behind, I would like to reiterate the fact that for those who love it and do it justice, academic work, which is a quest for truth, endures and is invaluable.

 

Politics is ultimately a process of rational negotiation that, by its nature, requires certain compromises. Nevertheless, it remains vital that these political imperatives should not contradict your fundamental beliefs and/or encroach upon your personal integrity. In a sense, politics is the art of being able to adapt ideals to reality, values to interests and principles to solutions. As a scholar who attaches importance to personal integrity, I have faced some severe tests in this regard during my public life. When I found that this process of adaptation was in general no longer possible, I chose to leave the prime ministry, rather than compromise my personal integrity. In light of this personal experience, I advocate more strongly than ever an understanding and a practice of politics that accords priority to personal integrity. I have never swayed from this approach to politics or the lure of political life, and never shall.

  1. I understand that returning to a scholarly life may not have been such a wrench. Nonetheless, do you miss the experience of exercising political influence? You have recently established a new party, Future Party. How do you now envision your future in Turkish politics?

The first thing to say is that my decision to leave the prime ministry did not follow an election defeat or the end of a term limit. On the contrary, it was taken about six months after winning the most overwhelming election victory (49.5 per cent) in the history of Turkish democracy. My decision reflected my principal focus – to prevent differences of view over principles within the party, and the administration of the state to rupture political stability in the country. I also wanted to avoid conflicts of authority between offices of the state over the proper shape of the constitutional order, from turning into a crisis of state. You can imagine how tormented I was in the process of making this decision.

There are two main reasons, to do with my perspective on political and academic life, why the onset of such a sudden and disheartening process did not have a traumatic impact on me. The first, is that I have never seen politics as a career field; on the contrary, I see it as a field of accumulated experience and mission unfolding on the basis of the authority granted by the people. In other words, I have always seen government service and leadership not as permanent property, but as something temporarily entrusted to politicians in the name of public order, to be terminated in the event that the public interest so requires.

The observations I have made during my political life have truly shown me that for those who aim to gain status, money and prestige after becoming a politician, politics begins to take on the characteristics of an ontological field that must on no account be abandoned. Autocratic tendencies develop on just such a psycho-cultural connection between ontology and politics. Seeing the beginning and end of politics as the ultimate career brings about the permanence and sovereignty not of values, but of a status. In a sense, this is to see the concept of glory, which was an inherent value in Roman political culture, as a human condition that has been cleansed of this value.

 

Secondly, I already had a field of mental and intellectual activity that I loved and that made politics meaningful to me. This is why I have had no adjustment problems, in spite of having made an unplanned and unforeseen return to academic life in the wake of a distressing process. The day I announced my resignation I went back to my natural habitat – my library. I focused on half-completed projects and published a book within a month. I published six more books within two and a half years of my resignation, and participated in several national and international conferences.

There was no contradiction in carrying on my publication and conference activities while my political activities continued, even after my resignation. I took care to do my best in both areas, which required two different psychologies. As I stated at a press conference, announcing my decision not to participate in the 24 June parliamentary elections had two distinct and complementary meanings for me – although I was now focusing on my academic work, I had not left politics.

I continued to follow developments in the political domain closely with regular daily briefings. Just as in academic life, certain habits gained in political life persist. You feel responsibility whenever you see negative developments in your country. I, as a former prime minister and former chairman of the party, expressed my concerns and opinions to relevant authorities on different occasions behind closed doors – whenever I had deep concerns regarding the rising populism and polarisation in our society, limitations imposed on democratic rights, stagflation in the economy, spread of corruption and extensive mistrust to judicial system. When these sincere observations and suggestions were not taken into consideration, I prepared and issued a manifesto after the local elections on 31 March 2019, on the need for extensive reforms in the party and state administration. The party administration decided to expel me and my five other colleagues from the party, rather than to understand our concerns and suggestions. There was no other choice for us, but to establish a new party. The main philosophy and objective of the Future Party is to implement inclusive democracy as set forth as my core political vision in the Systemic Earthquake and the Struggle for the World Order: Exclusive Populism versus Inclusive Democracy. The founders’ board of the party composed of 152 leading personalities, represents all ethnic, sectarian and religious segments of the society. For instance, for the first time ever in Turkish politics, representatives of religious minorities (Armenian, Greek and Assyrian citizens) became members of the founders’ board of a party.

 

My most important realisation in all these endeavours, is that I have felt no change in my sense of duty to my country and people. I feel this not only as an academician and politician, but as a citizen. I have consistently regarded this obligatory feeling not as a question of office or position, but as one of principle and morality. What is important for me is to try my hardest to fulfil the needs of each moment.

Moreover, one cannot split a person’s identity according to the activity in which they are currently most involved. The principles, feelings and objectives that have guided me as an academician or a politician are the same. In personal transitions of this kind, those who look at life on the basis of a “divided self” psychology may encounter adjustment problems. In contrast, there is no question of such psychological tension for those who see their areas of work as reflections of the same “self” situated in a different time-space dimension.

  1. In writing Systemic Earthquake, did you benefit from your own earlier scholarship, particularly Strategic Depth, as well as from your recent political experience?

 

Absolutely. Systemic Earthquake is posited on a unique synthesis of these two experiential legacies – one mainly theoretical, the other practical. With respect to historical background and global culture, the perspective of comparative civilisational analysis that I used in Alternative Paradigms, is reflected in this work as well. However, the initial theoretical work on which Systemic Earthquake is directly based, is a paper entitled Civilisational Transformation and Political Consequences that I presented at an International Studies Association congress in March 1991, in the immediate aftermath of the Gulf War, and published in 1994 as a book. In this paper, I argued that contrary to the claims of the End of History hypothesis, the ongoing process going forward was not the end of history, but a comprehensive civilisational transformation in which fresh elements introduced by globalisation were shaking the basis of conventional modern philosophy, and the revival of traditional civilisational basins that would change the Eurocentric concept of world order. Working from these premises, I foresaw that first of all tensions would arise from the reawakening of historical factors as a natural consequence of this transformational process. From this perspective, I anticipated there would be a transition from a unipolar world, to a balance of powers system that itself preceded humankind, finally entering a new phase through the birth pangs of change in the axis of civilisation. Refreshed with new elements, the theoretical framework I depicted at that time also played a role in my subsequent works.

 

In Strategic Depth, published ten years after this paper in 2001, I attempted to examine the geopolitical elements of the comprehensive transformation, then under way in relation to the previous ten years of political developments, and thus define Turkey’s strategic position within these new global and regional configurations. Looked at from the perspective of the framework in Systemic EarthquakeStrategic Depth was written with a view to analysing the 1991 geopolitical earthquake. Systemic Earthquake maintains this theoretical line of interpretation through its analysis of the security (2001), economic (2008) and structural (2011) earthquakes. In this sense, the book was reflective of my academic identity and accumulation of knowledge and experience.

Strategic Depth came from the pen of an academician without any diplomatic experience, Systemic Earthquake reflects the intensive diplomatic and political experiences of someone who had served for seven and a half years as chief advisor to the prime minister, five years as foreign minister and two years as prime minister. In this context, Systemic Earthquake reflects a method and style that includes both these sources of accumulated experience. From this perspective, the inclusion of intensive historical and theoretical analyses in the same framing as political/diplomatic experiences, may challenge the reader with respect to the proper alignment of theory and practice.

  1. Which political leaders have influenced you the most? Are these the ones you most admire?

 

In fact, the life of every leader who has combined historical processes with their own personal quests offers a very serious transfer of experience for anyone keen to draw its lessons. Looking at the lives of great leaders from this perspective, I have found unique instructive qualities in each of them, in terms of human nature, philosophical/intellectual background, historical process and social networks. During my academic life, I designed two courses for particular student groups with this background in mind: first, the intellectual/historical relationship between great intellectual movements that had an impact on humankind and comprehensive political transformations establishing a new order, and secondly, the relationship between intellectual and political leaders who had played a role in the development of national strategies.

It is not right to reduce leaders to a single category in terms of the factors that gave them an enduring place in history, or to evaluate them as individual personalities separate from one another. Leaders in different categories attracted my attention for various reasons, and I tried to learn from their varied experiences and particular talents. The most fundamental lesson to be drawn from the lives of leaders who have pioneered a new order by forging a link between the general flow of human history and the social/historical context in which they live, is the transformative and order-forming power of visionary leadership that recognises and accepts no limits or obstacles. Such leaders include Alexander the Great, who unified almost all of the ancient civilisational basins around a single order; Caesar, who made Rome the centre of a world order by leading to assume a role and reality beyond being a Mediterranean state; Caliph ‘Umar, who, together with a pioneering society without any great experience of governance, led a new order by rapidly spreading a new faith to all the ancient civilisational basins from Iran to Egypt; Mehmed the Conqueror, who established a new order by uniting state traditions drawn from the depths of Asia with the Roman tradition of political governance; and Napoleon, who, through his victories and defeats, had such a profound impact on a Europe being reshaped in every aspect around the system of values, given historical force by the French Revolution.

On the other hand, the most important lesson taught to us by leaders who had an order-restoring impact in periods of major transformation, is the need to establish harmony between the vision being pursued and the actual historical reality in critical transformative processes. In this leadership group I would include Marcus Aurelius, who restored the Roman order in a cosmopolitan context around Stoic thought against Germanic attacks; King Alfred the Great, who led the unification of Anglo-Saxons fragmented by Viking attacks, thereby achieving an English identity; Saladin, who achieved a crucial act of consolidation by uniting many elements of the East, whose order had been deeply challenged by the Crusades; Cardinal Richelieu, who laid the grounds for the era of Louis XIV by uniting France, at that time undergoing a process of ethnic and sectarian disintegration, around a common language and idea of national identity, in spite of the fact that both he and the country were Roman Catholic and therefore owed a form of allegiance to an authority other than the French King (i.e. to the Pope); Bismarck, who pioneered the unification of Germany on the basis of the identity of a modern nation-state, managing in the process to transcend the fragmenting impact of the Thirty Years War that had endured for some two centuries; Lincoln, who ensured the emergence of a United States of America united around shared values from the wreckage of the American Civil War; and Atatürk, who founded the Republic of Turkey by leading anticolonial independence movements after the First World War that destroyed traditional empires.

European Union flags [File photo]

Leaders such as Konrad Adenauer, Winston Churchill, Robert Schuman, Jean Monnet, Paul Henri Spaak, Alcide De Gasperi and Johan Beyen – all of whom pioneered the post-war “new Europe” idea that would later evolve into the EU, a series of developments arising from the ashes of the bitter experiences of the Second World War, the bloodiest conflict in history – are fine examples of the collective rational leadership, the need for which is so keenly felt during and after major crises.

The lives of three twentieth-century leaders with different civilisational and religious identities (Gandhi, Mandela and Alija Izetbegović) provide us with serious lessons and experiences in terms of their forbearance through all the challenging tests they underwent, especially the tensions between ideals and reality, values and power. They never shirked such tests, although often paying the price of confinement or even death.

In summary, whether you support them or not, and whether partisan or foe, the life journey of every figure who has left a mark on history is replete with valuable lessons. It is crucial that we learn from these lessons in light of our shared humanity, and to transfer this learning as sources of guidance in life and reality.

  1. What writers and scholars exerted the greatest influence on your intellectual development, and which were most relevant and important to you in the preparation of this manuscript?

Intellectual development is not a process that emerges in a linear fashion and through specific influences; rather, it is a cumulative work in progress that develops through interaction and internalises itself by reproducing itself at every stage. Therefore, specific, selective and micro-influences may be incomplete.

That said, I would like to list particular names in various fields that I have read with admiration and from whom I have benefited from since the earliest stage of my academic life, to the present day. Among many others, these include paradigm-founders such as Plato, Aristotle, Abu Hamid Al-Ghazālī, Kant and Hegel, who had an influence on intellectual currents carrying their names such as Platonic, Aristotelian, post-Ghazālī, Kantian, Hegelian, etc. Thinkers who played a significant role in the civilisational interaction such as Al-Fārābī, Ibn Rushd and Ibn Sīnā. Thinker-statesmen such as Cicero, Seneca, Nizām Al-Mulk, Thomas Moore, Ahmed Cevdet Pasha, Khayr Al-Dīn Tūnusī Pasha and Sa‘īd Halim Pasha, who endeavoured to establish a sound relationship between intellectual theory and political practice, experienced the tension inherent in this struggle, and in most cases paid a heavy price for it. Leaders like Marcus Aurelius, Winston Churchill and Alija Izetbegović, who produced substantial intellectual works in addition to leading their countries. Historians like Ibn Khaldūn, Arnold Toynbee, Fernand Braudel, Marshall Hodgson, Fuad Köprülü, Halil İnalcık and Kemal Karpat, who used inclusive methodologies while adopting a holistic approach to human history. Political philosophers such as Machiavelli, Hobbes and Jean-Jacques Rousseau, whose writings so brilliantly reflected the characteristics of the political culture in which they lived and who had a profound impact on later periods. Modern philosophers/ theoreticians such as Edmund Husserl, Max Weber, Hannah Arendt and Eric Voegelin, who exhibited horizon-expanding approaches in modern thought in their development of conceptual frameworks; and intellectuals/academicians who adopted multidimensional approaches so as to contribute to civilisational interaction, by transcending settled exclusionary molds such as Muhammad Iqbal, Lewis Mumford, Malik bin Nebi, Edward Said, Ernest Gellner, Ali Mazrui, Immanuel Wallerstein, Şerif Mardin, Fred Dallmayr, Richard Falk and Johan Galtung.

Systemic Earthquake is the product of blending the theoretical knowledge I have accumulated through a process of filtering the intellectual works I have studied in the fields of comparative civilisation studies, political history, political sociology, international relations and international political economy.

  1. In general, do you learn more from scholars with whom you agree or from those with whom you disagree? Can you give any examples?

 

In fact, the objective and simultaneous recognition of opposites facilitates learning and correct reasoning. Understanding is a prerequisite for developing an interpretative framework. Even if you end up disagreeing with a person or an idea, you must first understand it correctly. In a sense, understanding something requires an accurate grasp of its opposite. In the words of an old Turkish proverb, “things exist through their opposites.” This is the dialectic of existence. One cannot meaningfully adopt or defend any idea or viewpoint without a proper understanding its opposite. Thinkers with whom I disagree have thus contributed to my accumulation of knowledge as much as those with whom I agree.

I can give an example from the time I was writing my doctoral dissertation in the field of comparative political thought. I was undertaking a comparative study between Niccolò Machiavelli and two thinkers, one who lived in the same historical/cultural basin as Machiavelli (1469–1527) but at a different time, the other who lived around the same time but in a different historical/cultural basin. The first was Rome’s Stoic emperor Marcus Aurelius (121–180) to whom Machiavelli makes reference, the other was Kinalizāde ‘Alī (1510–1572), whose lifespan overlapped with Machiavelli’s and who wrote a book dedicated to an Ottoman Pasha (Semiz ‘Alī Pasha, during the rule of the Süleyman the Magnificent) on the relationship between politics and morality.

Reading Machiavelli’s The Prince, which places power at the center of things and links moral principles to power, Marcus Aurelius’s Meditations, which deals with state governance in relation to the moral teachings of Stoic philosophy, and Kinalizāde ‘Alī’s Akhlāḳ-ı ‘Alāī, which puts the principles of affection, morality, and justice at the center of politics, together, made it possible for me to better understand all three of them.

 

When it came to the relationship between morals and politics, I always felt closer to Marcus Aurelius, whose use of power was seen by Machiavelli as an exception in the relationship between the use of power and morality,[iii] and Kinalizāde ‘Alī than to Machiavelli. However, this did not lead me to conclude that Machiavelli was entirely wrong. My opposition to Machiavelli was over the issue of what kind of a future a person might expect in a world where every leader’s approach made morality subservient to power. However, in terms of the aspect of power that is related to human nature, my better understanding of Machiavelli also provided me with a more realistic context for power-oriented political relationships. In addition, a deep reading of Machiavelli gave me a clearer vision of how psychological factors related to human nature could produce moral deviations, which helped me to develop a kind of warning reflex when engaged in the practice of politics.

 

I still feel an affinity with Marcus Aurelius and Kinalizāde ‘Alī, who were trying intellectually to create the moral basis for expansive imperial orders in political terms, and I have learned a great deal from them. However, I have learned as much from Machiavelli’s work, which consists of advice given to the eponymous Prince with a view to consolidating his power in a fragmented Italy, even though I cannot on principle espouse his views, because learning is not about agreeing but understanding. Everything that allows one to understand is of value as an object of learning.

  1. In a world of sovereign states, is it possible to have a moral foreign policy? What role should respect for international law and the authority of the UN play in developing national policy, especially with respect to security concerns?

 

We may talk of three different types and areas of relationship in assessing the reciprocal actions of nation-states: shared destiny, common interests, and conflicting interests. The area of shared destiny, especially with respect to ecological issues, transcends territorial boundaries. Countries that share the same ecological destiny in the same geography are expected to cooperate on ecological issues even if they are in dispute over most other issues. In this sense, national security becomes a subcomponent of ecological security because, as the book emphasizes, one cannot possibly achieve national security in the absence of existential security. Nation-states that come into conflict over short-term interests or matters of prestige in these kinds of long-term matters over our shared destiny lay the ground for a shared catastrophe that will negatively impact everyone.

The area of common interests between nation-states relates to the existence of a sustainable peace and order that will enable them to coexist. In this sense, there is a direct relationship between national, regional, and global order on the one hand, and peace and order on the other. Respect for borders envisioned under international law and the development of common policies against terrorism and nuclear proliferation may be appraised in this context.

However, conflicts of interest between nation-states are an intrinsic aspect of international relations in spite of areas of shared destiny and common interests. And when a serious conflict of interest arises, the fundamental issue is the existence or lack of rational crisis management, as well as sophisticated diplomatic knowhow.

If the concerned parties behave with reference to the entirety of common normative principles in these kinds of relationships and areas, it means the suitable basis for the implementation of a moral foreign policy exists. In this context, the principal duty of international law and the UN is to consolidate this normative basis and keep nation-states adhering to this common ground as much as possible. In the event that the UN does not perform this function and international law is con- ducted on the basis of interpreting distinct national interests rather than by reference to common normative principles, the basis of shared destiny is weakened, areas of common interests are narrowed, areas of conflicting interests become more apparent, and crisis management becomes harder. In such situations, the basis of foreign policy shifts from ethics to raw power.

The logic of raw power is more and more becoming the organizing principle of major international powers in the conduct of international affairs. This is rather new, because both during the imperial era and ideological competition between socialism and capitalism (liberal democracy), power was accompanied by moral claims. Irrespective of whether these claims were genuine or not, the imperial powers predicated their scramble for power and authority on moral justifications. Likewise, both socialism and capitalism laid claim to legitimacy based on their contention that their ideological programs better fit the humanity’s needs and progress than did that of their ideological rival.

In recent years, there is a decoupling between power and moral claim. Trump represents the crystallization of this trend – power for the sake of power. Unless it is reversed, this trend will leave many fundamental questions of humanity unanswered. A question that this trend will face is whether it is tenable to have universal organizations without universally agreed-upon principles and values underpinning it? Unfortunately, decoupling of power and values and power and principles bodes ill for the course of human progress.

In the event that the UN performs its mission for international order within the framework of international legal norms and the practitioners of international law inspire confidence on the question of treating nation- states equally in terms of their shared destiny and common interests, it becomes less likely that nation- states will come into severe conflict while pursuing their individual interests. The current tendency of tensions between nation-states rapidly to morph into crises and wars stems from the international order’s failure to inspire successful forms of peaceful settlement of disputes.

  1. Do you think that the world map will look very different in a hundred years?

History reflects the dialectic of change and the sustainable order reflects the harmony of the continuity. The future is shaped through the inter- action of elements of change and continuity. Those who defend the order by reference to the permanence of the status quo based on conjunctural maps cannot predict or anticipate the dialectic of historical change; those who get lost in the volatility of geopolitical maps shaken

by ongoing earthquakes fall into the trap of chaos while imagining they are directing, or at least, controlling change.

While the change in the geopolitical map created by a geopolitical earthquake that struck approximately thirty years ago has still not achieved legally grounded stability, claiming that the same map will still be relevant a hundred years from now detaches history from the dynamic of change. The question is not whether there will be change or not, but how it will be directed. An unprincipled and opportunist approach that provokes change in line with its own interests will pave the way for new destructive processes. These will also likely engulf the advocates of such an approach, while a principle-based, visionary approach in managing the birth pangs of change will lead to a new order with far better prospects of viability.

In addition, the head-spinning pace of human mobility and technological innovation is likely to lead to the replacement of a territorial and space-dependent perception of the current world map with the shaping of a space-transcendent perception of the world map, especially when we appreciate the fact that this momentum is set to accelerate even further in the coming century. In such a process of paradigmatic change, non-conventional maps such as demographic maps, ecological maps, and cyber-communication maps will be as influential as territorial political maps of the world; it is a virtual certainty that world order will be dynamically reshaped on this multidimensional basis, but in what patterns cannot be yet discerned.

  1. In addition to law and international public opinion, should ethical principles shape policies? How to balance military necessity against civilian innocence in combat situations?

It is essential that ethical principles shape policies. An understanding of politics that is free of ethical principles ultimately gives rise to an environment in which the rule of the jungle prevails in national and international relations, leaving humankind to face an undesirable future. The alignment of ethical principles and policies is critically important, especially in relation to international humanitarian law.

The exponential increase in the destructive capacity of weapons technology has enormously amplified the imbalance between military capacities, military objectives, and civilian losses unrelated to the object- ives of combat. When it comes to destructive capacity, human history has gone through three stages with respect to types of weapons as underlying technology-based conflict and now stands on the threshold of the fourth.

The first stage was pitched battles in which the destructiveness of war was limited to the soldiers located in the battlefield itself; enemy sides stood face to face and tried to liquidate one another. The second stage saw the introduction of air forces and long-range artillery and, with that, the exposure of troops and civilian targets far beyond the battle lines to the destructiveness of war. Destructiveness thus gained a supraspatial quality and ethical control became considerably more challenging to maintain. With the use of the atom bomb against Nagasaki and Hiroshima, the third stage saw destructiveness becoming supratemporal and impacting future generations. In this case the moral responsibility for the political decision to drop the atom bomb took on a transgenerational dimension.

The fourth stage, at the threshold of which we now stand, involves a destructive capacity that is both supraspatial and supratemporal in such a way as to risk the eradication of the future of all humankind. Albert Einstein’s well-known statement that “I do not know with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones,” a prediction that is used to demonstrate the level that this destructive capacity has reached, indicates the total destruction inherent in a mechanism of war detached from ethical control. As I stressed in the book I wrote immediately after the Cold War,4 the ethico-material imbalance that most strikingly manifests itself in the destructiveness of war technology constitutes one of the most critical dimensions of the comprehensive civilizational crisis that we are going through. Since then, the concept of the ethico-material imbalance that I employed to show the gaps between political mechanisms and moral values has grown wider in almost every field.

In addition, the advent of remote-controlled drones in conflicts and robots developed without moral responsibility and accountability has produced serious issues of ethical control even in conventional wars and limited military operations. In this context, there is now a pressing need for a reconsideration of international conventions on these issues.

 

 

  1. You propose “inclusive democracy” as a desirable political goal. How does this differ from “electoral democracy”? Should the values and procedures of inclusive democracy also inform the structures and practices of global governance?

One of the most fundamental areas of tension in thinking about democracy today lies in this very critical difference between inclusive and electoral democracy. And the source of the threat to Europe, which is seen as the cradle of democracy, by extreme-right and racist currents that use electoral democracy as a base from which to impose an exclusionist political agenda after winning an election through all kinds of populist rhetoric, also reflects this dilemma. The fact that Marine Le Pen got through to the second round in the French elections and that racist parties are on the rise in Holland and Germany makes it clear that if these political currents win an election, even by a small margin, the entire concept of citizenship in constitutional societies will be eroded and fall victim to a polarization based on a binary division. Drawing a distinction between “real” French, German, British, Dutch, Italian, etc. people and “newcomers” or “strangers” means the destruction of inclusive democracy by electoral democracy. An electoral democracy that eradicates inclusive democracy will lead to the revival of the historical experiences of extremism undergone in Europe between the two World Wars.

The only way to overcome this tension is to view electoral democracy and inclusive democracy not as alternatives but as complementary to one another. The process of electoral democracy takes precedence over the principles of inclusive democracy. As a process, electoral democracy is a sine qua non for a real democracy, a real imperative. A lack of respect for the national will expressed in an election means the eradication of the principal gains of democratic history. But inclusive democracy is an absolute prerequisite in terms of enabling the grounding of a real, self-regenerating democracy. Otherwise, as happened in the period between the two World Wars, when a government formed on the basis of the unqualified nature of the one-time results of electoral democracy breaks away from inclusive democracy, electoral democracy is likely to be rendered meaningless, and totally undermined.

In this context, electoral democracy constitutes the infrastructure of a real democracy; inclusive democracy its load-bearing pillars. Without electoral democracy inclusive democracy cannot be realized; without inclusive democracy, electoral democracy degenerates, and cannot flourish through self-regeneration. Electoral democracy makes up the mechanics of democracy, inclusive democracy its organic structure. In other words, electoral democracy is hardware, inclusive democracy is software.

A constitution based on the human rights and human dignity serves to guarantee the complementary relationship between electoral democracy and inclusive democracy. In societies where constitutional consensus and conventions are in crisis, the risk is that inclusive democracy gets hollowed out by coups or populist ideologies, and that electoral democracy becomes a mechanical legitimating instrument of government. The coupism in Turkey and Egypt, which disregards the results of electoral democracy, and the rising extremist trends in Europe to use electoral democracy to destroy the most fundamental elements of inclusive democracy, threaten the future in equal measure.

These principles also apply to global democracy and governance. A UNSC system that fixes five permanent members in place without any electoral process while revolving non-permanent members are selected by means of elections involving the other 188 member states has minimal inclusivity while its electoral attributes reflect an ineffective oligarchic concept of governance. There is also a manifest need for new conventions to protect the rights of countries and indeed all humankind.

To sum up, and as emphasized in various sections of the book, the most pressing condition for a new world order today is the emergence of a new philosophical and implementable set of principles for inclusive national, regional, and global governance.

A protest calling for climate change on 1 June 2017 in Paris, France [kellybdc/Flickr]

  1. World order continues to be state-centric in its fundamental character – that is, with respect to the formation and implementation of policies on matters of global concern – yet the problems (climate change, nuclear weaponry) seem global in scope. How can the pursuit of national interests be reconciled with the realisation of global interests?

It is normal that the international system is state-centric. I think the problem here isn’t that the international order is state-centric. The real problem lies in the definition of sovereignty. Because the division of labour at multiple levels – local, domestic, regional, and global – requires a new understanding of sovereignty backed up by the political will of leaders. Given the hyper-interdependency of the international system and human destiny, the state can’t operate on the basis of the traditional Westphalian conception of the nineteenth- and even early twentieth-century understanding of the sovereignty. The concept and institution of sovereignty is in dire need of redefinition. In a revisionist understanding of sovereignty, the national level shouldn’t be set against the global level. They should be framed in ways that complement each other. In this respect, we should contemplate a new form of sovereignty, which is multi-layered, inclusive, and driven by commitments to the collective good.

From such a perspective, the nation-state is not a competitor of the international order but its building block. What is important is that these building blocks have a strong basis of legitimacy within themselves and that they have the flexibility and dynamism to accommodate the diverse concerns of the international system’s nation-states. When I spoke at international platforms about matters of universal concern like climate change and nuclear weapons, I always mentioned the need to develop first a global awareness and only then to posit this awareness in an international normative framework and convention. On the question of awareness, it is an absolute condition that issues related to the ontological existence of humankind supercede all kinds of concepts of individual state interests, because (and I emphasize this in the book) the political existence of nation-states is impossible without ontological existence. Ignoring the threat to humankind’s common security posed by the excessive pursuit of individual national security presupposes an Armageddon psychology and apocalyptic scenarios.

The most effective method to eliminate such scenarios is the application of legal norms developed in this context, without exception. For example, the inconsistency of certain countries who regard nuclear weapons as a threat but ignore the nuclear armament of other countries in the same region shakes trust and confidence in the international system as a whole and paves the way for every country to take its own measures to arm itself regardless of the threat to collective wellbeing, even survival. It is impossible to overcome individual conflicts of interest in an environment where the interests and concerns of certain nation-states are regarded as more important than those of others.

In this context, it is essential to establish a strong and consistent connection between consciousness of humanity and of citizenship. This can only be achieved through the spread of communications between global civil society and national civil societies and can be realized by the emergence of psychological spheres of influence that transcend the outlook of nation-states. It should not be forgotten that threats such as climate change and nuclear arms whose destructive impact cannot be restricted to the legal and spatial boundaries of nation-states cannot be resolved only by negotiations limited to nation-states.

  1. In this conversation you have talked about how your career has made the shift from academic to political, then back to academic life and now back again to the political domain after establishing a new party. Do you consider this to be your final professional destination? Or would you welcome a future rhythm that involved alternating periods of government service and scholarly life? In this sense, would you describe your present state of mind to be best described as “post-political” or “pre-political,” or some combination?

A person making his or her own decision about personal final destination is like the “end of history” claim for humankind, a claim that I have opposed in this book and on every possible occasion. As Demetrius strikingly said, “An easy existence untroubled by the attacks of Fortune is a Dead Sea.”

If one’s final destination were known, the excitement and energy of life would be lost. Perhaps the most important thing that makes a person happy, even when they cannot know it, is their own final destination. The only thing I know at this point is that neither my personal future nor that of humankind is going to be “an easy existence.” This doesn’t mean I have a pessimistic view about the future. Quite the reverse, the new challenges brought by those “attacks of Fortune” also require fresh paradigmatic initiatives. With the dynamism engendered by these challenges, it is certain that neither my personal future nor the general future of humankind is going to be that “Dead Sea;” the challenge is to find key wavelengths and frequencies able to surf successfully through the continuously rising flow of history, and thereby reach their target. The “future rhythm” you refer to in your question will also to some extent be the work and challenge of this surfing exercise.

I have always approached post- and pre-conceptualization with caution. Every post-situation harbours its own pre-situation. In other words, in the process of history every post-situation is shaped in the womb of a pre-situation. As Wordsworth said, “The child is father of the man.” Could the conditions of the post-Cold War period have been formed without the process of change that occurred in the final years of the Cold War?

This also applies to personal journeys and quests. The academic work Strategic Depth that I wrote in the pre-political period of my life defined my behaviour in the political phase of my life, while my post-political academic works have been shaped by the experiences derived from that same political phase.

When I left the prime ministry, I never said I had left politics behind. In any case, after such a high-profile past in politics, one can’t really remain outside of political debate even if one says “I’m out.” Although I have tried to avoid political polemics in this period, I have remained on the political agenda with both positive and negative comments. So, there is a clear difference between becoming post-governmental and post-political. Regardless of official titles I was and will always be political.

At the early stage of writing Systemic Earthquake in 2017, I was a parliamentarian of my previous party, when the book was published in January 2020 I became Chairman of a new party, Future Party. As I have underlined in my books, history continues to flow personally, nationally, and globally. I do not think there will be a pre- or post-era in my life. But, there will be a difference compared to my previous experiences. Unlike my decision not to write when having an official position which I followed faithfully during my public services as Chief Advisor, Foreign Minister and PM from 2002 until 2016, I am planning to continue my academic publications in the future despite resuming the work of being an active politician.

All these challenges are inherent to politics. But just as one’s personality cannot be divided, nor can one’s life. The key thing is to live an unfragmented life with an undivided integrative personality. One can do this by taking the right steps that bring together the needs of the moment with one’s own conscience. The difference I made in politics came to a large extent from my scholarly past. On the other hand, what is distinctive about my post-political academic works will undoubtedly be fed and influenced by my political experiences. Therefore, I can say that my present state of mind is a combination of both.

As an academician I never underestimated the significance of being a politician, and when I became a politician I tried never to forget my identity as an academician. The first stopped me from getting detached from the reality of the flow of history, while the second kept me from getting imprisoned in constructed conjunctural reality.

  1. In contemplating Turkey’s future in a time of systemic earthquake, what sorts of response would you hope to be forthcoming from political leadership and from civil society?

No scholar can ignore the time–space dimension they encounter within themselves and the experiences they have gained as they generate and develop ideas. In that spirit I naturally drew upon the case of Turkey throughout the book and especially in the chapter entitled “Inclusive National Governance.” I believe that the five main principles I considered with reference to the recommended approach to deal with the systemic earthquake are primarily applicable to my own country. In fact, Turkey constitutes perhaps one of the most striking examples with respect to these principles.

A Daesh sign at the entrance of the city of Al-Qaim, in Iraq’s western Anbar province near the Syrian border, seen on November 3, 2017 [AHMAD AL-RUBAYE/AFP/Getty Images]

If we take a summary view of Turkey in terms of these principles, an inclusive sense of belonging and citizenship is a priority prerequisite for the country’s internal order, because Turkey, with its Ottoman legacy, includes within its borders almost every ethnic and sectarian element of the Balkans, Middle East, Caucasus, and Central Asia. The country’s political leaders and civil society must act in cognizance of this reality and exhibit a stance that does not exclude any ethnic or sectarian identity. People want to see those who govern and represent them by their side at critical periods. During our struggle with terror organisations such as Daesh, the PKK, and (DHKP-C), whose terror activities escalated in 2015 on account of developments in Iraq and Syria, I would spend every weekend with people in the most affected districts, addressing some mass meetings in Kurdish as best I could. I was the first Prime Minister in the history of the Republic to take part in an Alevi gathering at a djemevi (cemevi) and as a minister I paid visits to all the non-Muslim religious centers including the Greek and Armenian Patriarchates and the Chief Rabbinate. These experiences convinced me that the strongest link between political leaders and the people is a shared sense of belonging. Over time, political leaders and civil society groups who neglect this lose not only their administrative but also their representative effectiveness, and of course, diminish their legitimacy.

Secondly, Turkey is a remarkable case when it comes to a nation-state’s geopolitical basis, because apart from the one with Iran, none of the country’s borders rest on sound geopolitical ground. The border with Syria cuts through residential districts, the border with Iraq through mountains, and its Aegean border skirts islets and rocks. The risk of suddenly erupting tensions is always present. The main reason for my advocacy of the “zero problems with neighbouring countries” principle from 2002 onwards was the potential that existed to derive an order from these geopolitical abnormalities. Successfully pursued up until the structural earthquakes that occurred in surrounding countries in 2011, this policy saw the establishment of high-level cooperation mechanisms with Russia, Greece, Iraq, Syria, Bulgaria, Azerbaijan, Georgia, Ukraine, and Romania, and the development of relations between peoples through mechanisms such as visa waiver and free-trade agreements that were developed with neighbouring countries. Our 2004 negotiations with Greek Cyprus, and the protocols signed with Armenia in 2009[i] showed our determination to achieve normalization (we did not have diplomatic relations with either state before). Today, one of Turkey’s top priorities is the achievement of stability and peace all along its geopolitically sensitive borders.

Thirdly, the freedom–security balance that forms the basis of political legitimacy needs to be painstakingly maintained. It is crucial that a country like Turkey, which has passed the test of being a democratic country in a high-risk geopolitical environment, does not lurch between freedom and security preferences. The fact that in the face of the global security earthquake in the post-9/11 period that shook the world and tended to detach countries from human rights, Turkey made significant strides with respect to the implementation of human rights and freedoms, which are the fundamental elements of inclusivity, and backed this up with a multidimensional foreign policy, enabled the country to make a regional and global difference in those years.

Fourthly, its young and dynamic demography is both a major advantage and a serious challenge for Turkey. Educating and preparing this young and dynamic population for the future requires a policy of sustainable economic development and fair income distribution. It is crucially important that political leaders, the business world, and civil society generally agree on this issue on the basis of shared, rational objectives.

The fifth point is that Turkey is going through an absolutely critical process with regard to the institutional structure of national order. With institutions developed within a deeply rooted state tradition, Turkey faces the need to rebuild its state architecture as a result of the recent constitutional referendum. In this context, the balance between institutional continuity and institutional restructuring needs to be carefully developed to safeguard democratic expectations.

In summary, Turkey’s geography requires multidimensionality, its history inclusivity. If Turkey takes both these elements into account, the ongoing systemic earthquake will present not only risks but opportunities. Turkey needs to find its own distinctive path at a time when the systemic earthquake has encouraged a global trend towards exclusionary autocracy. The course of historical change is determined not by those who act in line with the general trend on the basis of herd mentality but by those who make a distinctive difference. Even if this difference is not sufficiently appreciated in the heated midst of the process, its influence will make itself felt over time. This is how to ensure national legitimacy and international prestige.

  1. Since completing Systemic Earthquake there has been a continuing trend toward demagogic political leadership, coupled with polarized patterns of governance, in many of the most important countries in the world. Does this trend disturb you? Do you expect it to continue?

The most frequently overlooked element in efforts to establish national, regional and global order is the psychological factor. In a psychological atmosphere in which feeling, emotion, and sentiment overwhelms rational thought, rhetorical radicalism subsumes any shared or common view, tactical steps subsume strategy, and impulses subsume principles. While building sustainable order is all about a set of principles generated by a common mindset and the strategic issues based on them, acquiring and keeping hold of conjunctural power is a tactical question based on impulsive and rhetorical radicalism. The growing trend to demagogic political leadership is the psycho-political reflection of rhetorical radicalism; a polarizing and exclusionary understanding of politics, a reflection of its impulsive radicalism. Like everyone with a worldview that envisions a future for humankind based on equality and human dignity, I am seriously concerned about this development. A number of large-scale wars in the past were triggered by reciprocally impulsive reactions that had emerged from such a psycho-political atmosphere.

However, it is impossible to overcome this disturbing development by getting caught up in a psychology of helplessness in the face of such a wave, or turning a blind eye to the conditions that have led to the wave in the first place. What is needed is an accurate analysis of the psychological grounds that have been thrown up by it and the promotion of a vision of order based on humankind’s shared legacy of experiences with the capacity to generate the global momentum required to create a counter-wave.

US President Donald Trump delivers remarks at ‘Keep America Great Rally’ on January 30, 2020 in Des Moines, IA, United States [Kyle Mazza / Anadolu Agency]

  1. The Trump presidency has epitomised this trend, which has also led to an ultra-nationalist foreign policy, which exhibits hostility to international law, the UN, human rights, and cooperative approaches to global problems. Does the world suffer from the loss of a more internationalist style of global leadership associated with pre-Trump American foreign policy?

To use the conceptualisation I have proposed in the book, we might say that Trump represents the most extreme slide into strategic discontinuity in US foreign policy that has been experienced with any post-Cold War change of presidency. In every period changes in the international system have necessitated a paradigmatic renewal in US strategy. As the eighteenth century gave way to the nineteenth, and however much the young United States of America appeared to have been excluded from the international Eurocentric colonialist power struggle, the Monroe Doctrine published in 1823 in line with the new state of affairs in the wake of the Congress of Vienna helped to lay the ground for an internal consolidation around republican principles as well as an American continent-oriented consolidation of power far from the influence of monarchical restoration in Europe. Through the nineteenth century, this founding paradigmatic principle, which was enunciated by the fifth US President James Monroe, recognized as the last of the United States’ founding fathers, constituted a strategic basis unaffected by whichever political party the president happened to be affiliated.

As the nineteenth century gave way to the twentieth, the United States, whose economic prowess had turned the country into a leading actor in international economic-political balances, became an international naval power in the context of the Roosevelt Corollary’s more assertive interpretation of the Monroe Doctrine, after which the beginning of the country’s assertion of influence within the international system through the principles laid out in President Wilson’s Fourteen Points indicated a continuum of change in the US strategic paradigm. The fact that Theodore Roosevelt was a Republican, and Wilson a Democrat, never caused any strategic discontinuity in terms of the United States’ status as a leading actor. The proactive strategy of Franklin Roosevelt (a Democrat, unlike his Republican cousin Theodore) in the Second World War put the United States center stage in the post war international system. Even in this paradigmatic transformation, the “American Century” was one of consensus and continuity in terms of twentieth-century economic-political, geopolitical, and geo-cultural balances in the strategy’s principal elements.

However, as the world moved into the twenty-first century, and in spite of having emerged as the victor of the Cold War, the United States’ strategic paradigm proved unable to forge a coherent and consistent whole. George H. W. Bush’s “new world order,” Bill Clinton’s “humanitarian interventionism,” George W. Bush’s “pre-emptive strike,” Barack Obama’s “multilateralism,” and Trump’s “America First”-oriented conceptualisations contained elements of incoherence and discontinuity as well as being in part reactions to their predecessors’ policies.

In a nutshell, while the nineteenth century was the European, and the twentieth century the American century, the twenty-first, a “Global Century” shaped by the dynamic elements associated with globalization, has a complexity that is hard to comprehend, disentangle, and resolve by reference to just one geographical location. While a multi-dimensional, multi-actor period such as this (in the book we call it the “multiple balance of powers system”) requires a far more sophisticated approach, the US slide towards a one-dimensional, self-centric approach characterized by Trump’s “America First” slogan, with its disregard for international law and norms, is not sustainable either in terms of the functioning and operation of the international system or of US interests.

  1. The rise of China represents the most dramatic geopolitical development in the twenty-first century. Do you think that the rise of China is on balance beneficial or detrimental to the future of world order? Do you believe China can fill the global leadership vacuum created by the Trump withdrawal of the leadership role that the United States played since 1945? Could you envision a more multi-polar global leadership emerging in the future? Or possibly a post-Trump US/China joint leadership? Or is a new Cold War more likely with the United States on one side and either China or Russia, or some combination, on the other?

In the post-Cold War era, especially after the 2008 global crisis, China’s attainment of a leading position in the world economy was a new state of affairs that represented a test for China itself as much as for the world and the other major powers. During its classical periods, China saw itself as the “civilized center of the world,” even “the world itself”; it possessed a strategic paradigm based on protecting itself from potential threats from the world outside, rather than taking any interest in the external world. The Great Wall of China constitutes the most striking manifestation of this strategic mindset paradigm, which was the product of China’s effort to protect its own world from the that which lay beyond. In this context, except for the Hui-origin Muslim Chinese Admiral Zheng He’s overseas expeditions at the beginning of the fifteenth century, China had no concept of a common order, or working to establish contacts with the non-Chinese world. The Opium Wars, which forced China’s strategic culture to change in the mid-nineteenth century, were essentially waged with a view to discontinuing this strategic resistance. Once again China’s confrontation with modernity took place through the inward-looking Maoist methods identified with the Cultural Revolution.

In the post-Cold War period, China’s ever more rapid integration into the international economy along reformist lines pushed China to change its aloof approach towards the outside world that it had adopted in the traditional and modern periods. Indeed, it would be impossible for a global power with an economic structure integrated into the world economy either to remain outside the world political system or to remain indifferent to developments within it. In this sense, Chinese President Xi’s The Belt and Road Initiative project is not just a sign of economic interdependence. It will also reflect China’s inevitable and growing interest in the field of international politics, including the security of the transport corridors that it naturally requires.

In this framework, the main question is what tools and methods are going to be applied by China to further its interests. From the perspective of China’s traditional stance as well as today’s economic-political balances, a scenario in which China gains the status of guarantor of the global order by itself, by filling the vacuum left by the United States in the wake of Trump’s policies, appears unlikely. The scenario in which China assumes a leadership role in conjunction with the United States risks creating a polarization that could bring actors such as the EU, Russia, Japan, and India together in such a way that this kind of quest for balance would frustrate any such joint-leadership project. The move towards the conditions for a new Cold War with the United States at one pole and China at the other is not a burden that an increasingly complex network of economic relations can carry. It should not be forgotten that the previous Cold War did not take place within the same economic model but only ever between blocs of countries with different economic models. It would be very hard to forge an enduring Cold War in a world where the same or similar economic models are interacting in a global economy. In this context, the most likely scenario is a “multiple balance of powers” system with growing Chinese economic-political influence but in which the thematic, sectoral, and geopolitical basis of international relations may be dynamically determined at any moment.

Yet it would be wrong to restrict China’s distinctive and distinguishing features to the realm of economic-political balances in this new period. Every change that occurs in China, home to one-quarter of the world’s population, will also be decisive in the cultural order that includes the scientific and technological elements of the international system. China’s growing influence in the restructuring of the global cultural order will be accompanied by the transformation of the modern, mainly Eurocentric, cultural order. Therefore, this “multiple balance of powers” system’s soft (cultural) aspects need to be taken very seriously and all multinational platforms, especially the UN system, need to have a genuinely peace-promoting and inclusive character. As is emphasized in the text of the book, Pax Universale does not need global Caesars followed by self-centric Neros, but rather Marcus Aureliuses from different cultural basins.

Young boys wear medical masks as a precaution to protect themselves from coronavirus in Kirkuk, Iraq on February 25, 2020 [Ali Makram Ghareeb/Anadolu Agency]

  1. Your book Systemic Earthquakewrites about ruptures that change the international atmosphere in dramatic and unexpected ways. Do you consider the global spread of COVID-19 virus is or could become such a rupture?

Since we are still living through this pandemic, it is hard to make a definitive judgment that it will lead to a global rupture. However, it is at least clear that COVID-19 is set to be a precursor and test bed for probable global-scale ruptures.

Precursor, because COVID-19 has strikingly shown once again that human destiny flows along a single common river that does not allow for the separation of one continent from another or one religious or ethnic community from another. It is both natural and inevitable that with the acceleration of growing global interaction we shall soon see stronger waves and ruptures that will impact our common future.

Test bed, because the stance taken on COVID-19 will determine the course of subsequent ruptures. Broadly speaking, when it comes to this stance there are two options. The first is that just like quarantining people during the pandemic, societies and countries will tend to quarantine themselves on a long-term basis through inward looking policies designed to avoid being affected by global ruptures. It is extremely hard for this introspective attitude, which I define in the book as a cynical reaction against globalization, to deliver a lasting solution with respect to the impact of global rupture. It should not be forgotten that quarantine is a temporary measure; making it permanent means the end of societal life. Likewise, the long-term nature of the restrictive measures taken by countries to mitigate the impact of the epidemic serves to minimize the positive interaction gains of globalization.

The second possible stance is to move forward once again with a shared global-scale ontological consciousness based on a common concern for the existential future of humanity in the face of this global rupture. This shared ontological consciousness will not have the capacity to develop enduring responses to global ruptures unless it transcends the political and economic interests developed individually by political actors and countries. As we underline in the book, where there is no ontological existence, political existence loses its presence and meaning.

  1. This health challenge arises in a historical circumstance in which the world is experiencing trends toward the embrace of ultra-nationalist ideologies and the rise of democratically elected autocrats. Against this background, does the COVID-19 challenge underscore the importance of global cooperation under the auspices of the United Nations?

Absolutely. In order to be able to transform this shared ontological consciousness into a set of global policies, the only tool available to us is the UN, whatever its troubles. Yet if the UN is to be able to carry out this duty, the privileged status it affords to certain countries in terms of their capacity to determine the destiny of humankind needs to be reformed. Having said that humankind needs to move forward with a single and shared ontological consciousness, the current UN structure, based on granting five countries ultimate decision-making status with respect to the political manifestations of this destiny, of its essence runs contrary to this consciousness.

In particular, in the event of ultra-nationalist and autocratic leaders who prioritize their own short-term personal and national interests coming to the fore in these five countries, the UN ceases to be a solution-producing body and turns into a source of problems. In the context of a state of affairs in which these five countries pursue their disparate interests and display mutually polarizing attitudes, it becomes difficult for the UN to mobilize a shared ontological consciousness. The tendency of the US and China to exchange accusations during the COVID-19 crisis has been a cautionary tale. Approaches such as this serve to block the existing UN system and undermine the idea that the UN is the shared mechanism of humanity. Right now, the urgent need is to achieve an inclusive, democratic and participatory United Nations, and to enhance its effectiveness.

  1. In a deeper sense, the COVID-19 eruption suggests the limits of our understanding of what the future will bring to humanity. Does this uncertainty about the future make it more essential than ever to govern societies in accord with ‘the precautionary principle’? Does the ecological fragility of world order, combined with its vulnerability to previously unknown viruses, suggest the need for more flexible democracies or does it portend a post-political future for all levels of social and political order?

Yes, ‘the precautionary principle’ can be an important reference point in overcoming the global vulnerabilities and uncertainties associated with rapid technological development and globalization. However, the success of this principle in practice depends on its unconditional and blanket acceptance and implementation by all parties. Otherwise, non-compliant parties may gain a scientific / technological / economic advantage over their compliant counterparts. In the framework of this principle, the manner in which the United States’ failure to ratify the Kyoto Protocol and Canada’s withdrawal from it prevented the World Charter for Nature adopted by the UN in 1982 and enshrined in the preamble of the 1987 Montreal Protocol from achieving its desired effect, is clear. When ‘the precautionary principle’ framework is correctly defined and implemented without exception, it can prevent or at least limit this kind of vulnerability. And for this to happen, an institutional body and mechanism that is not wrapped up in political concerns but motivated by universal principles needs to be established.

The most effective solution to the ecological vulnerability further exposed by the emergence of viruses previously unknown to the world order is the concept of an inclusive and participatory flexible democracy. This concept of democracy must bring with it a fresh political mindset. Perhaps these developments can be seen as a precursory phase towards a new political understanding, rather than a post-political phase. At the beginning of human history too, human beings basically transitioned to the phase of forming a political society by removing the security risks associated with natural life in the most primitive fashion. This time, humanity will have to develop a new global-scale concept of political societal order in order to bring the ecological risks created by humankind’s own hand under control. Although this concept of order appears post-political from the modern political perspective, from the perspective of a political order based on global governance, it could well take the form of a harbinger.

In any case, all these developments show that we are pushing against the limits of current understandings of political order. Humankind will either turn to a new humanity-oriented concept of global governance, or rupture from human values on the wheels of autocratic structures seeking to exploit all these vulnerabilities. Our primary duty today is to strive to forge the intellectual infrastructure of a new humanity-oriented order of global governance.

Indeed, this is the fundamental purpose of this book, Systemic Earthquake.

[i] For an assessment of these negotiations from a third perspective see Hillary Rodham Clinton, Hard Choices, New York: Simon & Schuster, 2014, s. 218-220.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Explaining the ‘Asian Miracle’

20 Mar

[Prefatory Note: The posted essay is a modified version of an interpretative review of an outstanding book that initially appeared in Challenge, an online publication, a few weeks ago. A timely aspect of Nayyar’s book is the emphasis he places on the importance of effective state/society relations in explaining the remarkable growth experience of Asia. Such an insight seems relevant to the degree to which various governments are effectively managing responses to the challenge of the Coronavirus pandemic. It would seem at this stage that well-managed autocracies do better than most democracies, and much better than poorly managed democracies that embody capitalist structures, priorities, and values..]

 

 

The Economic Resurgence of Asia: Reaping the Benefits of Decolonization. By Deepak Nayyar, Oxford University Press, 2002

 

The distinguished Indian economist, Deepak Nayyar, has written a fascinating and illuminating account of the economic rise to ascendancy of Asia over the course of the past 50 years, entitled Resurgent Asia: Diversity in Development, (Oxford University Press, 2019). Its rigor, lucidity, statistical evidence, and reasoned analysis enable this book to stake a claim of being the definitive account of the extraordinary Asian rise that has reconfigured the world economy since the collapse of European colonialism in the two decades after World War II. Nayyar tells us near the beginning that “The object of this book is to analyze the phenomenal transformation of Asia, which would have been difficult to imagine, let alone predict, fifty years ago.”[4] It would indeed seemed so absurd to have been upbeat about the Asian economic future as late as 1960, a case of “imagination running wild” according to Nayyar.[2] To drive home this striking point he looks back at The Asian Drama (1968), the classic three-volume work of the celebrated Swedish economist, Gunnar Myrdal, who despite a magisterial effort to marshal all available information at the time, turned out to be totally wrong in his central pessimistic prognoses of the economic future of Asia. His book was treated as an authoritative confirmation of the conventional wisdom of the time that relegated Asia to a permanent condition of impoverished underdevelopment.

 

Nayyar helps us understand why Myrdal was so wrong, and if I get correctly the force of his well-honed argument, the foreboding prognosis resulted from the gross underestimation of Asian human capital (skilled and high performing labor, education), governmental capabilities, and legacies from formidable pre-colonial economic stature and achievements. Furthermore, Asian states emerged from colonial governance and imperialist exploitation much less shattered than did their African or Latin American counterparts, and were endowed with governing processes that were better able to steer their economies in ways that produced sustained developmental success. A major theme of Nayyar’s groundbreaking study of what he labels ‘Asian resurgence’ is the critical importance of rational guidance and management of development by a strong and autonomous state that can operate in a constructive and intelligent manner when it comes to formulating its pro-active managerial approaches to economic and social development. As a result, Asian governments did not need to defer to the status quo orientations and stultifying special interests of traditional elites while implementing polices designed to promote rapid industrialization, education, health, social and economic rights, and technological innovation, and maybe most important of all, the governing elites of most Asian countries exhibited flexibility with respect to policy, being not hamstrung by ideological dogma of either capitalist or communist hue.

 

A distinctive feature of Nayyar’s ambitious approach is to broaden inquiry beyond the rise of China, or at most China and India, by examining the economic experience of no less than 14 Asian economies over the half century, beginning in 1970. This comparative methodology enables a search for clues as to why some countries in Asia did far better than others when it comes to GNP growth per annum and per capita without losing the other part of the story, which tells of the startling progress achieved by Asia as a region. In effect, some Asian countries did perform better than others, and some did better in certain intervals than at other times, accounting for two dimensions of diversity. Yet this deconstructive insight should not divert attention from the central assertion: that Asia as a region did spectacularly better than was expected, especially after 1970, and from economistic perspectives far better than could have been responsibly predicted. It is obvious that Africa and Latin America did not fare nearly as well as Asia, which is a part of the puzzle that Nayyar takes note of, but does not try to solve beyond a casual observation that their state formation lagged, their human capital was of poorer quality, and these countries did have nearly as robust pre-colonial economies as did several Asian countries with their impressive manufacturing and governance capabilities.

 

In one sense, the most startling finding, given this comparative approach, is that ideological orientation meant far less than the effectiveness of state intervention in the economy by its pursuit of industrial policies designed to promote growth, especially via export promotion and an opening of the national economy to trade and investment potentials arising from profits, savings, and transnational capital flows. In other words, competent and pro-active government, superior human capital facilitated by education and health, and reinforced by a cultural work ethic, as well as the effective assertion of national sovereignty seemed to be the key explanations of the most spectacular success stories among the Asian 14, with China leading the way. What Nayyar concludes is that “The state and the market are complements rather than substitutes and the two institutions must adapt to each other in cooperative manner over time.”[226] He does suggest that China and Vietnam are special due to their “strong, one-party communist governments, with clear objectives, that could co-ordinate and implement policies” in a manner that cannot be “ that could not be replicated elsewhere in Asia.[226]

 

This enlightened outlook that was initially implemented with excellent economistic results by the Asian Tigers (South Korea, Taiwan, Hong Kong, and Singapore), then emulated on a grander scale by China, and lately more unevenly pursued by India. These success stories contradicted economic dogma in the West, which favored either a supervisory relationship between state and market as in the social democracies of Europe or a more deferential approach by the state to the market as in the United States where the tyranny of Wall Street and the ceaseless budgetary demands of the Pentagon has often impaired effective governmental activism with respect to markets except through various subsidies, tax breaks, and crisis-induced bailouts. Although not explicitly articulated, Nayyar seems to be suggesting that the genius of Asia was to escape from the Cold War poles of economic ideology, and figure out practical ways of making make the state a useful guide and facilitator of economic policy rather than a passive spectator or an omnipotent overseer. The Asian success was to find various pragmatic national formulas for coordinating state and market on the basis of synergies that were dedicated to overall success in achieving sustainable development at high rates of growth, and that displayed talents for adapting to the challenges of changing global and regional economic conditions.

 

One dimension of this hyperbolic economic growth in Asia involved the effective management of complex transitions from an economic concentration on the export of primary goods and resources to a much-increased reliance on manufacturing, and from there moving the center of economic gravity to a more and more sophisticated stress on the provision of services. Nayyar takes due note that during this process of growth and expansion, it is of utmost importance to take maximum advantage of technological innovations to ensure that increases in productivity offset rising wages, which enables a continual rise in living standards without sacrificing the savings and profits needed for continuous investment, which alone can sustain aggregated momentum on the level of macro-economic policy.

 

Perhaps, as significant as the prodigious demonstration of the diversity of the 14 Asian national trajectories amid the unity achieved in the form of sustained economic growth, is Nayyar’s methodological mastery of the complex statistical material presented in the form of data, charts, and graphs. Writing in a manner that exhibits great economistic sophistication, Nayyar yet somehow has produced a book that is understandable by non-economists with a storyline that provides real insight into the dramatic restructuring of world order in the aftermath of colonialism and economic imperialism (significantly, not all of the non-West was colonized, but it was all, including of course China exploited by the West). Indeed, Nayyar shows that while India was a British colony and China never lost its formal independence as a sovereign state, their economic decline in the colonial period was roughly equivalent, with both emerging after World War II as highly problematic broken economies with respect to their future prospects, making this regional climb to ascendancy that much more remarkable.

 

Yet that does not mean that Nayyar overlooks the damage done to Asian countries by the colonial system as it operated between 1820 to 1962. On the contrary. He faults Myrdal for failing to take account of the pre-colonial past when Asia was so much more prominent in the world economy, which Nayyar believes partially explains why this great Swedish economist did not adequately foresee the Asian potential to achieve post-colonial affluence. The economic fall of Asia during colonial period was very sharp—“Between 1820 and 1962, the share of ‘the West’ in world income almost doubled from 37 per cent to 73 per cent, and the share of ‘the rest’ more than halved from 63 per cent to 27 per cent, of which the share of Asia plummeted from 57 per cent to 15 per cent.”[9] The dynamic that caused this to happen was rapid European industrialization that enabled the West to reshape  by coercion the international division of labor in its favor. In Nayyar’s words this new international economic order was “shaped by colonialism and imperialism through the development of mines and plantations.’[16] This dramatic shift resulted in the drastic ‘deindustrialization’ of Asia, which meant reversing the growth expectations of development, epitomized by a retreat from manufacturing to primary goods in the context of production and international trade.

 

Nayyar grounds his book by a look back in two distinct illuminating ways. First, he considers the standing of China and India, along with the rest of Asia, in the world economy through a period of two centuries, putting forth a dazzling array of statistics that probably will produce some major surprises for most readers, as they did for me, and especially for those who have not studied Asian economic history. In Nayyar’s words, “Until 1750, Asia accounted for almost three-fifths of the world population and world income, while China and India together accounted for about one-half of world population and world income. These two Asian giants also contributed 57 per cent of manufacturing production, and an even larger proportion of manufactured exports in the world.” [2] The most intriguing aspect of this critical assessment of Asian economic experience is that the result of the amazing economic surge is in one rather secondary sense unremarkable. For Asia in this past 50 years did nothing more than recover by 2016 or so its earlier relative global position with respect to population, shares of the world economy, and per capita living standard of its peoples. It is with this central reality in mind that explains Nayyar’s use of the word ‘resurgence’ rather than, say, ‘rise’ or ‘rise to ascendancy.’ At the same time, the differences between economic conditions in 1820, or for that matter, 1960, and the present are so dramatic for Asia in terms of experiencing the actual conditions of modernity, its technological advances and the great heightening of living standards, as to make it no exaggeration to consider the transformation of life in Asia from what it was to what it is as ‘the Asian miracle.’ Although much is left to be done throughout Asian-14, including dealing with large pockets of extreme poverty, especially in India, never have so many millions been lifted from the harsh clutches of extreme poverty in a few generations.

 

This rise of Asia has been accentuated by coinciding with the relative and absolute decline of the West. This puts Asia in a position to become the leading regional force shaping world politics for the next 20-25 years, taking over for the United States, which had taken over from Europe. It would be illuminating to have a study roughly parallel to this great book that looked at the collective experience of the West in a framework that also tracked the experience of a group of Western states, not necessarily 14, but a sufficient number to illustrate diversity amid unity.

 

One consequence of Nayyar’s regional approach is to lessen attention given to the impacts of these economic trends on the structure of geopolitics, and the character of geopolitical rivalry at the start of the colonial era, in the course of the 20th century, at present, and in the near future. What becomes evident is that in the 1800s the main geopolitical rivals were also the main colonial powers of Western Europe, especially after the Industrial Revolution gave European countries the military instruments to extend their economic reach over most of the rest of the planet. The only notable exception to this pattern, as Nayyar observes, was Japan that benefitted its generally successful resistance to colonialism and later from the modernization thrust of the Meiji Restoration of 1868. These developments allowed Japan to catch up with the West much earlier than the rest of Asia, a dynamic tragically reversed by the Japanese turn toward regional imperialism coupled with a disastrous challenge to Western geopolitical dominance in its region. Nayyar takes note of the fact that Japan pursued its own version of the Western path of combining industrialization at home with an imperialist foreign policy in Asia. Nayyar does not, however, go on to contrast the soft power dynamics of the contemporary Asian global outreach, which places an emphasis on win/win approaches to non-Western countries in Africa and Latin America coupled with non-reliance on the Western addictive dependence on coercive diplomacy, intervention, and military superiority. In this sense, Asian geopolitics are post-colonial in character, although as of 2020 beginning to mount tensions and even some pushback as nationalist outlooks show resentment toward soft power penetrations of sovereign space.

 

Of course, the regional framework is somewhat misleading if the focus shifts from development to geopolitics. Although Nayyar’s conjecture of rising Asian geopolitical leadership is couched in regional language, the real geopolitical rivalry is between the United States and China. It is here that the most notable feature of U.S. pre-Trump decline is the American squandering of its resources and reputation on a hard power approach to geopolitical leadership that involved a series of costly military misadventures (Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq, Iran), which in effect, represented a dysfunctional continuation of a colonial mentality, somewhat disguised by shows of formal respect for political independence and national sovereignty of other countries, yet confirmed by U.S. reliance on threats, sanctions, and covert and overt military interventions. By contrast, how many such misadventures can one identify in Chinese foreign policy? This is not to suggest that China is pacifist in spirit or substance. Its fierce border wars with Vietnam and India, its investment in defensive and deterrent military capabilities, as well as its repression of dissent at home and in Hong Kong, suggest that Beijing places values on military and other coercive capabilities to meet some challenges to its goals. Yet when it comes to its pursuit of ambitious geopolitical goals, reliance on military capabilities has played almost no role. China’s immensely ambitious ‘Road and Belt Project’ is emblematic of its approach that is at once expansionist and pacific.

 

What was true in pre-Trump geopolitics has become more pronounced during the Trump presidency. Trump has deliberately disengaged from cooperative international arrangements, weakened alliance leadership, invested heavily in American military dominance, and worried leaders throughout the world by his unsteady, impulsive, and high-risk diplomatic style. At the same time, there is a certain Trumpist geopolitical realignment taking place due to the rise of right-wing leaders in many important countries throughout the world. As a result, while the world is more interconnected than ever before and can only solve problems associated with climate change, digital crime, migration, and management of nuclear weaponry by geopolitical coordination and cooperative solutions, it lacks the capacity to do so. In effect, the U.S. has substantially relinquished its global leadership role, while China, which alone would have the credibility to take over, has not attempted to do so, at least not yet. World order without geopolitical leadership, a weak UN, and beset by a series of fundamental challenges of global scope is in crisis. There is no obvious solution at present. Nayyar’s economistic master work does not attempt to address this dimension of Asian ascendancy, and what he does is itself a. most impressive achievement. At the same time, such a foreshortening of analysis may account for what struck me as an overly optimistic reading of the Asian future even before the Coronavirus shakedown of conventional wisdom. By his definitive portrayal of the Asian development story Nayyar plausibly projects a relative trouble-free future for Asia, reinforced by expectations of continued Western decline, but he excludes from consideration the negative impacts almost sure to be felt in Asia if climate change is not properly addressed or if a major war between China and the United States occurs without even alluding to the current woes arising from the COVID-19 outbreak, which were not on the horizon of anybody’s consciousness before the pandemic unfolded long after his authorial role ended more than a year ago. I wonder if Nayyar will stick with his confidently projected future in an updated edition as described in the book’s final paragraph: “There can be little doubt that, circa 2050, a century after the end of colonial rule, Asia will account for more than one-half of world income, and home to more than one-half the people on earth. It will thus have a political and economic significance that it would have been difficult to imagine fifty years ago..” [234] My simplistic commentary: maybe, maybe not. I disagree with the historical or Asian regional judgment that “[o]n the whole, there is more reason for optimism than pessimism.” [233] I wonder here whether Nayyar is making the reverse of the mistake he persuasively attributes to Myrdal in explaining why his dark vision of Asia’s future turned out to be so wrong.

 

In illuminating contrast, the Western international relations literature is not very much interested in Asian development per se as it is in sorting out the countries by whether they seem friends or enemies, and most of all whether the rise of China will produce a heightened rivalry with the United States, generating a second Cold War, and risking a hot war. Samuel Huntington in his controversial Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order (2011), shifted his inter-civilizational emphasis from Islam to China, in the course of predicting such a war fought to establish global supremacy. More recently Graham Allison has generated debate and concern about what he names as the ‘Thucydides Trap’ in his Destined For War: Can America and China Escape the Thucydides Trap (2017). Allison argues that war has occurred on 12 of 16 occasions since 1500 in situations where a geopolitical leader perceives being overtaken by a rival, which is what currently seems to be happening in the relations between China and the United States. In Allison’s strong words, “The defining question about global order in the coming decades will be: can China and the United States escape the ‘Thucydides trap’?”

 

Nayyar writes as an expert economist with a masterful control of his chosen subject-matter. In this sense, his statistical underpinning is that of an analytically skilled professional economic historian, interpreting trends on the basis of measurable indicators. He avoids the more qualitative assessments of the rise of China with respect to peace and security in Asia associated with what might be roughly called ‘political economy’ approaches to economic growth and its political consequences. In this regard, while celebrating what Deepak Nayyar has achieved in Resurgent Asia it is also important to retain an awareness of the limitations of this approach, and the need for more politically focused assessments to get the full picture of this extraordinary Asian story.

 

A haunting question is whether the disappointing record of the Asian-14 with respect to political and civil rights is in any way necessarily linked to the extraordinary achievements in economic and social rights. A complementary question could be posed in relation to the more market-oriented Western countries as to whether a better performance with regard to social and economic rights could be achieved without impinging upon political rights. In this regard, as in many others, the Scandinavian and north European countries stand out for their high degree of achievement across the entire spectrum of human rights. A further issue, somewhat outside the orbit of human rights, relates to stewardship of the environment, given the scientific consensus on the growing menace of climate change.

 

Since the publication of Asian Resurgence the world has become preoccupied with COVIS-19 pandemic in ways that cast a variety of shadows across the economic future of the world. It is too soon to assess the impact of this pandemic, although not too early to understand that the spread of deadly diseases strongly confirms the benefits of a cooperative world order, and the harms resulting from transactional approaches to international relations that conceive of gains and losses from pragmatic nationalist perspectives with no deference to global concerns, whether functional as in responding to climate change and the Coronavirus or normative as in dealing with refugee and migrant flows or prolonged strife and oppressive governance. Whether we learn that the politics of global solidarity is the politics of species survival remains unknown, but the failure to do so will sooner or later doom the project of modernity of which the Asian ascent was one of its most notable moments of triumph.

 

It is also not to early to conclude that the eruption of the pandemic caused far higher harm because of failures of preparation, crisis management, and governmental oversight, strongly

supporting approaching vulnerabilities to uncertainties by a much more robust adherence to the Precautionary Principle. Leading modern governments to devote major resources so as to be prepared for the onset of wars, but little else, creating dangerous societal and global vulnerabilities to systemic challenges to health, wellbeing, decency, and ecological balance.

 

 

 

COVID-19: Present, Past, and Future

17 Mar

COVID-19: Present, Past, and Future

 

A few days ago when WHO officially declared the COVID-19 a ‘pandemic’ a Rubicon of consciousness and global governance was crossed. Hundreds of millions of individuals around the world are coping physically and mentally with what that word never before used in my lifetime means for themselves and those they care most about. The mental dimensions of self-isolation may turn out to be a big challenge almost as big as the disease itself. For once, government officials seem to be heeding the warning of health specialists rather than dutifully than scurrying about to address market signals of distress with public funds. At least this is the public face we see on our TV screens, although in Trump’s case even the appearances are mismanaged, considering the corporate smirk at his Rose Garden press conference when several CEOs pf prominent companies received better free PR that not even their most energetic publicist ever imagined attainable. There is a silver lining: if the American elections are actually held in November, we should see the fall of Trump, and as importantly, the end of Trumpism, that is, unless there is a quicker return to normalcy than now seems possible. Although one thing we might learn from how our lives changed overnight is to stop trying to outguess the future. Economists and future studies consultants may have their super-sophisticated models and graphs, but some of the most significant surges of history have a will of their own that often makes the most mathematically advanced computer models seem out of touch with transformative social forces that remain hidden until a shockingly unexpected eruption occurs.

 

If nothing else, COVID-19 reminds us of the perils and possible promise of radical uncertainty. As this mysterious deadly mutation of the Coronavirus suggests, our powers of anticipation are not much more impressive than those of our brothers and sisters in the jungle, and I am referring mainly not to tribal peoples looking up at the sky for signs of what is to come, but also of elephants and lions roaming freely on the savannas and grasslands of the world, yet suffering mass killings when wild fires rage out of control. What this uncertainty mandates above all else is preparedness and the acceptance as a matter of urgency of the Precautionary Principle as the long overdue Eleventh Commandment of our civilization. The Precautionary Principle should guide us to take steps to avoid known thresholds of irreversibility or curves of rising risks. The message is this.  Don’t wait until the predictable crisis is at hand, and don’t build on or near the known fault lines of the planet.

 

COVID-19 also suggests something else that is both instructive and worrisome. We as a species react to crises when their impact is immediate and lethal, and sometimes compensate for earlier complacency by over-reacting when widespread fear spirals out of control to produce panic, and in the process lurid memories of past failures are dredged from the depths of collective consciousness. The Spanish Flu Epidemic of 1918-19 is a current example of a past event I never heard discussed during my childhood, or throughout my adult life, but now is on the lips of many. While still a child this earlier flu pandemic was almost as recent then as the 9/11 attacks are now. We forget quickly past urgencies until replaced by new urgencies.

 

Another lesson here is that we cannot afford to treat climate change as we are treating this pandemic. Once the concreteness of climate change is revealed so that none can plausibly deny, or escape, or turn away from what happens at a distance, or be explained away as an anomaly of nature, or a danger that technology will address before the great collapse will occur, it will be probably too late to halt the downward trend.  For now, despite the fires, floods, and droughts the sky above remains as blue as ever in most places, the stock market showed no abiding concern about global warming, and the whole societal ecosystem lurches forward, producing the latest digital device and AI advance, without blinking. Even Brazil and Australia, scenes of catastrophic fires, seem to view these occurrences as one-time events that should not in the first instance interfere with neither sovereign rights nor with profit-making deforestation and cattle ranching, and in the second, with expanding coal production and exports. The short-termism of how we live our ordinary lives and how political leaders and corporate moguls are judged, makes it difficult to combine democracy and accommodating the global and the long-term, especially if its destructive impact can be imagined as always occurring to others far away or in the distant future. When we read of the ordeal of those living in prolonged subsistence confinement in Gaza or in the misery of refugee camps and border assaults, we may lament the news, and even sign petitions and make donations, but our nighttime sleep is rarely interrupted the way it would be if a next door neighbor or a loved one was so severely infected by the virus as to be carried off to a hospital, hopefully one with enough beds and ventilators, which in a matter of weeks might itself become a vain hope for many older infected people.

 

COVID-19 also further tears at the fabric of democratic governance. Israel reveals that it has elaborate secret files for the surveillance of all mobile phone users in the country, supposedly to help with counterterrorist efforts, but now to be used in identifying, locating, and confining those believed to be infected or having had recent contact with carriers of the disease. When Orwell imagined a tormenting Big Brother, it was read as an indictment of totalitarian systems of governance, specifically the Soviet Union, or at most a warning of a world in the making, an imagined dystopia that would hopefully never become actual. What the imagination could only worry about the technologists have now achieved. Are we safer, more secure and content when all of us have become suspects and our lives transparencies subject to the discretion of unaccountable bureaucrats?

 

As with the delusions of the militarist, excessive investments in weapons brings insecurity, not enhanced security. America is the best example in all of history. While our military arsenals grow, we shackle ourselves with more and more restrictions on our freedoms, which has been translated by our minder into electronic monitoring, long lines, and countless hidden cameras. Instead of improving lives by investing in social betterment through health, education, culture, parks and natural preserves, we spend public monies collecting meta-data and insist on a military capability that is dominant globally, able to strike catastrophic blows anywhere on the face of the earth from land, air, and sea platforms, and even from space. China, with all its imperfections, demonstrates to the world that the way to gain power, prestige, and influence is to manage clever fusions of state and market, taking advantage of soft power opportunities wherever they are found. By way of contrast, America is demonstrating that the way to lose power, prestige, and influence is to rely on geopolitical muscle through threat and coercive diplomacy, sanctions, and intervention. The result has been repeated frustration by striking its blows in dead end misadventures, yet learning nothing from each failure because the whole edifice is militarized, paralyzing the moral and political imagination, and the high-priced gurus offer tactical adjustments that misinterpret past failures, and thus prepare the way for new failures..

 

The democratic fabric of many countries was fraying badly long before COVID-19 added to the wear and tear. The end of the Cold War brought with it the expectation that the material and political benefits of democratic forms of governance would become so obvious to everyone as to produce a global tsunami of democratization, and to some extent it did during the 1990s. Bill Clinton spoke of ‘enlargement’ by which he meant that more capitalist democracies would emerge, and that this would be good for both economic prosperity and world peace as democracies do not make war on one another, especially when trade and investment are robust. Then came 9/11, the counterrevolutionary moves after the Arab Spring that caused severe civil strife and mass displacement, refugees and asylum seekers, ultra-nationalist reactions to neoliberalism, and now COVID-19 comes along. A mixture of alienation, scapegoating, and identity politics gave rise to the still bewildering phenomenon of societies freely electing, and even reelecting, autocratic demagogues that take away basic liberties without disguising their acts or intentions. A leader as regressive from the perspective of democratic values as Rodrigo Duterte enjoys an 80% approval rating in The Phillippines despite being responsible for as many as 20,000 extra-judicial executions, as well as numerous flagrant violations of human rights standards and disregard  of constitutional limitations on the exercise of state power. Modi remains popular in India despite his crude and cruel encroachment on the autonomy of Kashmir coupled with inflaming attitudes toward the large Muslim minority.

 

It is to be expected that there are no real democracies during wartime or in the midst of crises that give governments, regardless of ideology, a free hand to do whatever they proclaim as helpful in the name of national security, and now public health. During World War II the United States Government interned its West Coast Japanese minority without the slightest attempt to proceed in accord with the rule of law or even due process, and yet a majority of the U.S. Supreme Court had no trouble upholding this repressive undertaking as a reasonable security precaution given wartime apprehensions of disloyalty among Japanese citizens and residents. At least, the decision was controversial at the time, and there were dissenting opinions in the high court. Later on official apologies followed, especially 25 years after the end of the war when wartime fevers had dissipated. Now the U.S. government seeks to expel rather than intern, to keep the poor and unwanted out whether by erecting walls or imposing anti-Muslim bans and the like. Instead of global democratization, the recent international experience has been one of the previously unforeseen popularity of radical forms of de-democratization, proliferating ultra-nationalist outlooks, and the erosion of respect for the UN, international law, and global cooperation when such instruments of good order are more needed than ever. Also present in this anti-democratic ‘perfect storm’ is the penchant for undermining independent journalism and academic freedom, banishing free expression of ideas to private conversations among dissidents.

 

The cumulative effect of these political tendencies to weaken trust, and even draw the possibility of truth into question, making governance into a series of opportunistic fabrications. When scientifically backed opinions and unwelcome evidence can be dismissed as ‘hoaxes’ and ‘fake news,’ we no longer know what to believe, and most of all view skeptically what the government and its leaders tell us. Democracies depend for their legitimacy and effectiveness on trust as well as an atmosphere of normalcy, and when neither exists, there is confusion and chaos, and demagogues comes forth with self-confident and often malicious propaganda that is swallowed whole by large sectors of the population, however divorced from reality is the promise of rescue. One transcription of the message is this: making America ‘great’ again is being achieved at the price of inducing planetary collapse. This is the dark logic of our time that needs to be countered by a dialectic of resistance and transformation.

 

Interestingly, COVID has temporarily restored the stature and influence of the expert, at least for this current state of emergency. Can you imagine a future Trump press conference on climate change featuring the head of the Sierra Club, Environmental Defense Fund, and having Greta Thunberg share the platform with the experts. However absurd such a. musing, this  seems more or less how the American president seeks now  to reassure the public that despite some early stumbles, citizens can now have confidence that everything recommended by the best experts is being done to minimize the harm resulting from the global virus. Trump no longer appears in front of the TV cameras and assembled journalists as the preeminent know-everything leader. Instead he is flanked by health experts, corporate managers, and cabinet member to whom he regularly defers whenever a question by a journalist raises a technical issue. In this ironic turn, the supreme leader has become the novice, and hopefully will soon receive a pink slip of the kind he so gleefully issued while weekly performing on The Apprentice.

 

Of course, experts have their limits as well, and relying on the authority of the measurable is not a humane path to the future. Ethical sensitivity, especially empathy, is more important than following the evidence as interpreted by many experts, who are often hiding their own questionable policy agendas or career ambitions behind a flurry of numbers and graphs. So somewhere between banishing reality as fake news and worshipping the dapper expert as our supreme guide we need to find the courage, wisdom, and humility to reach difficult decisions that move humanity forward. Yet we are a long way from generating the political choices that include such constructive voices. So far what opposes the entrenched autocrat seems an improvement worth supporting, but It doesn’t even pretend to transform the system.

 

Without overdoing it, the real lessons to be learned are well depicted in a fine essay by Bruce Franklin, an admired friend and long one of the most perceptive and humane interpreters of the political scene, whose virtues have unfortunately automatically relegated him to the outer margins of public awareness. His piece, https://www.counterpunch.org/2020/03/13/what-is-covid-19-trying-to-teach-us/  stresses the idea that continuing to rely on state-centric world order and transactional geopolitics is to choose a doomsday destiny not only for country, but for the human species. If we cannot learn from the COVID-19 experience of our dependence on global cooperation, and a win/win approach to global problem-solving, the human species is far along on bio-ecological death march. As Franklin makes clear, in responding positively to a pandemic we help ourselves by helping other, and we hurt ourselves when we refuse to do so. His crucial point is that climate change, extreme poverty, biodiversity, global migration, nuclear disarmament, demilitarization are essentially the same: challenges of global scope that will not be resolved except by global win/win responses on a comparable scale.

 

 

Cruelty or Humanity?

12 Mar

[Prefatory Note: Posted below is my foreword to Stuart Rees’ exceedingly important study of the role of cruelty to in politics, a mystifying dimension of human experience, which is illuminated by integrating the insights and reflections of poets with the narration of political poliices. This fusion gives this book a quality of originality as well of practical relevance.]

 

 

Richard Falk, Foreword, Stuart Rees, Cruelty or Humanity: Challenges, Opportunities and Responsibilities, Bristol, UK: Policy Press, forthcoming 2020.

 

 

We are living in an anguishing historical period. From one direction come dire warnings about  human future if the challenges posed by climate change and ecological instability are not addressed within a rather tiny window of less than twelve years. From another direction come depressing indications that peoples around the world are choosing by their own free will, extremist autocrats, even demagogues, who are extinguishing fires of freedom, building walls to keep the unwanted out, and stigmatizing the stranger. In such an atmosphere, human rights are in retreat, empathy for the suffering of others is repudiated, international law is all but forgotten in the annals of diplomacy, and the United Nations is often reduced to the bickering of irresponsible governments seeking nothing grander than maximum national advantage, and in the process, let the common public good of humanity be damned. Facing such reality with eyes wide open is a challenge that few acknowledge, and even fewer have the stamina, insight, compassion, wisdom, and imagination needed to discern a brighter alternative future for humanity.

 

Stuart Rees is such an exception. His Cruelty or Humanity has the courage to portray reality in all its degrading ugliness without taking refuge in some specious bromide. His book addresses the range of cruelties that befall those most vulnerable among us in myriad specific circumstances. With an astonishing command over the global and historical landscapes of cruelty, Rees leads us through the wilderness of the most evil happenings, which have been enacted individually and collectively. And yet through it all he manages to guide us toward the light of hope without indulging sentimentality or embracing false optimism.

 

What gives this perilous journey its defining originality is the degree to which Rees brings to bear the knowledge and timeless wisdom of poets both to depict the intensities of the darkness but also to instruct readers that the disciplined and lyrical insight of a poet can better than the rest of us find shafts of light that illuminate paths leading to empowerment, transcendence, and liberation. Rees has actually written two parallel interacting texts brought together in a single fully coherent book: on one side, a fearless and comprehensive reportage of the facts and figures of human cruelty in many distinct settings of place and circumstance, stressing the plight of those most victimized, ranging from asylum-seekers to indigenous peoples tortured in their homelands, and extending to the horrifying torments endured by animals and a variety of thoughtless encroachments on our natural surroundings; on the other side, this depressing litany of cruelties inflicted on masses of people is simultaneously refracted through prisms of light offered by a multitude of poets who share the agony while intoning the most vital truth of all, that hope is not futile, that human society has dreams, aspirations, and untested anthropological potentialities. Rees shares with readers extracts from dozens of world famous, and relatively unknown poets, in this parallel form of narrative that interacts with the gory reportage of cruelty to offer a creative tension between entrenched evil and its transcendence.

 

Rees’ undisguised autobiographical engagement with this inquiry gives Cruelty or Humanity a quality of urgency and sincerity that it would not possess if confined to the scholarly canons of ethical and political detachment. The fact that Rees cares so deeply about choosing humanity over cruelty is evident on almost every page. He conveys his concerns without ever diluting the profound difficulties of overcoming the evil being done by humans, mainly men, to others stigmatized and rendered inferior, punitively instrumentalized to serve ambitions, manipulate fears, and satisfy sadistic urges of those in power.

 

In personalizing his immersion in this difficult subject-matter Rees’ residence in Australia becomes evident in the manner he treats the severe cruelties over centuries inflicted on the original natives of the land, and currently reproduced in the manner that Australian asylum-seekers have been sequestered in an isolated island and often driven to suicidal desperation, a horror show that is mostly hidden from the world, but shocking when disclosed in all its ferocity. It casts doubt on the ritualized apologies that some liberal Australian politicians offer to the aboriginal people and their forebears for past wrongdoing. As a leader of Palestinian solidarity efforts in Australia, the cruelties of Israel toward the Palestinian people receive deserved attention from Rees in depicting the cartography of cruelty.

 

Rees advances a strong case for the positive side of the human condition, resting on the rock of shared humanity. He quotes these arresting lines from Maya Angelou, which really captures the essence of his ethical message:

                                    “In minor ways we differ

                                      In major ways we’re the same.”

The political implication of this affirmation is a strong embrace of the spirit and substance of equality, which implies a rejection of hierarchy, as well as making positive use of the interplay between the unity of humanity and the many differences evident in the way individuals and collectivities choose to live. Another poet, William Stafford, is quoted approvingly in words intended to repudiate hierarchy and its companion, stigmatization of ‘the other’ deemed inferior:

                                    “I can’t eat that bread.”

 

In the end, Rees manages to nurture hope, which he rests on what might be best identified as ‘the transformation-to-come.’ This radical departure from the present will be recognizable only when political leaders begin to articulate their programs and policies in what Rees calls ‘the language of common humanity.’ Of course, a humanistic worldview naturally follows such a linguistic trope. It draws its normative direction from existing traditions of international human rights, international law, and a rising respect for nature. Whether such an axial moment, if and when it comes, can be operationalized in the form of humane patterns of governance will be the ultimate test of whether equality can become a way of life for the human species as well as an uplifting slogan.

 

In the end, we should be thankful to Stuart Rees for providing us with such an inspiring reading experience, which contains within it a roadmap that could help humanity escape from the species eco-ethical slide toward extinction. This will only happen if enough of us are responsive enough to Rees’ damning diagnosis of the present and then heed his liberating prescriptions for the future.

 

 

Richard Falk

Santa Barbara, California  

Dumping Sanders: A Provocation

6 Mar

Dumping Sanders: A Provocation

 

I suppose it was all over after the Biden blowout victory in South Carolina, inducing the leading remaining ‘never Sanders’ moderates, Buttigieg and Klobuchar, to drop out of the race for the Democratic Party nomination. Biden’s dominance on Super Tuesday sealed the deal, and adding one more to his extravagant array of futile gestures, Bloomberg could withdraw with satisfaction as his anti-Sanders dirty work had been completed by others. It now seems like there will be no brokered Democrat Convention in Milwaukee, as Biden is almost certain to earn majority support well before the opening gavel is pounded, avoiding the embarrassment of handing the Sanders’ assassination dagger to the superdelegates. Wall Street emitted a giant sigh of relief registering a gain of more than 800 points on the Dow, and even forgetting about COVID-19, at least, for an interval of 24 hours.

 

The evasive rationalization by many faux moderates is that the swing toward Biden was based on electability, and as Bloomberg explained, Biden had ‘the best shot’ to beat Trump. Never a word about those polls that gave Sanders the nod in the November faceoff. For those more sophisticated, who realized that the electability issue was cloudy and that Biden seemed at best the winner of a race to the bottom, stress a shift to governability concerns, that is, even if Sanders were to push Trump off his throne, he would be stymied once he arrived at the White House, never able to get anything done for the American people, as he supposedly would remain an alien outsider even for Democrats. Ultra-establishment stalwarts like Tom Friedman, whose unsurprising first choice for the nomination was the stop-and-frisk billionaire, painted a grotesque picture of Sanders being so slaughtered by a Trump landslide that all branches of government, including both houses of Congress, would be under the thumb of a reelected Trump, which while not as bad for such ‘thinkers’ as the prospect of a Sanders’ presidency, is to be avoided if at all possible. If that is not enough, Americans were reminded over and over again that the last time the Democrats nominated as an outsider, George McGovern, he was crushed by a consummate insider, Richard Nixon, who unlike Trump slid off the impeachment block by resigning, not trusting a more conscientious Senate to let him stay in the Oval Office he did so much to discredit.

 

Sanders is a threat, not only to portfolio (stocks & bonds) Democrats, but also to the super-glue that has manged this three-pillar foreign policy consensus that has held up through many international twists and turns ever since 1945. To the surprise of many insiders it did not lose much ground during four years of Trump’s disruptive and narcissistic style of leadership, and with Sanders all but beaten, its adherents in and out of government can again breathe easily regardless of who wins in November. Trump was barely tolerated at first but became tolerable in the end, including to most denizens of the deep state, because in his own idiosyncratic tweeting style he upheld the three pillars. Indeed, if considered closely, Trump even added to their ideological hegemony and policy realization: he celebrated and strengthened the military without wasting lives and trillions in failed wars; his policies propelled the stock market to record highs, while keeping employment high while lowering taxes on the rich; and he pushed Israel’s maximal agenda to a point that probably exceeded Sheldon Adelson’s wildest dreams, confronting Palestinians with a surrender ultimatum, while giving Netanyahu at least as much as he sought on a series of sensitive issues. What worry about Trump lingers along the corridors of power is no longer about ideology, but about fears that his personality disorders might one day erupt with catastrophic fury. There are genuine secondary concerns about Trump held especially by more traditional Republicans, including his dog whistles to white racists, contempt for NATO, loving embraces of brutal autocrats, Iran warmongering, wall-building, cutting to the bone benefits to the poor, along with the most wretched Supreme Court appointments of all time. This is what makes portfolio Democrats more or less comfortable with Biden as an alternative to Trump. Most such Democrats, along with the Party establishment, sincerely believe it crucial to rid of Trump as his craziness might any day turn apocalyptic. While Trump represents the worst of America, he turns out for a plurality of the citizenry to be not as bad after all as Sanders confirming that class and portfolio issues are the bottom line with electorate, with a bit of demagoguery thrown in to please the alienated underclass.

 And what of Sanders who wants health care and education to be treated as public goods, who favors cuts in the military budget, and might create programs that would produce inflation, deficits, and higher taxes for the rich? Is the progressive populist base strong and disciplined enough to get the job done? It doesn’t seem so, although for most Americans Sanders’ policies would be highly beneficial, and well worth operationalizing, although it would somewhat weaken each of the three pillars. If today’s view holds, as now seems a near certainty, darkness will descend even assuming, what is far from assured, that Biden will win on Election Day. Even Biden’s most reluctant supporters do not feel that way. They are mostly cheered by the fact that Biden is not Trump. Beyond this, many feel confident Biden can steer the American ship of state toward calmer waters while making them comfortable by reenchanting the bipartisan worldview that Trump also affirmed, but without his diversionary and unconstitutional pyrotechnics. And if Biden should fall to Trump next November, there will be regrets and there will be many moans and tears among portfolio Democrats, but no tears will be shed on behalf of Sanders even if the evidence demonstrates that he would likel have been a stronger candidate than Biden. Quite the contrary. Blame for Biden’s defeat will angrily focus on die hard Sanders supporters who stayed home rather than vote or had the banal audacity to exercise their democratic prerogative by voting for a third party candidate.

 

The media labels for the various candidates accentuate the distorted mainstream dialogue. The Democratic primary struggle was not really between moderates and progressives, at least when it comes to foreign policy. There is no moderation among the ‘moderates,’ and Sanders was the only true moderate. His positions while threatening to the guardians of the three pillars really advocated rather mild reforms—small cuts in the military, modest tax increases on the richest among us, and some small moves toward balancing partisanship on Israel/Palestine with calls for accountability by Israel and empathy for Palestine. This is not the stuff of revolution. It strikes me as a truly moderate reformist agenda, and even Sanders’ domestic agenda, which is indeed progressive, is in the spirit of Scandinavian democratic socialism, light years away from the Soviet model of socialism, much less a communist state.

 

And as for Trump, he does project as immoderate worldview, but more as a matter of style than substance. His domestic policies seem mean-spirited and divisive, while his foreign policy seems somewhat innovative, casting China in the role that Bidenites would assign mainly to Russia. Both Biden and Trump seem to see the world through a geopolitical lens that stresses hard power rivalries among principal states, putting the 9/11 counterterrorist preoccupation to one side, although this could change quickly with one large incident. Biden might be slightly more internationalist that Trump, but I would be astounded if he would do anything as provocative (and appropriate) as moving the American Embassy now in Jerusalem back to Tel Aviv, an act that would show both policy discontinuity with the Trump presidency and respect for the UN consensus.  

 

Those critics who bemoan living in a choiceless democracy, best conceived as a plutocracy, will feel vindicated, while pragmatic liberals who are either content with the three pillars or only give attention to the domestic agenda will also feel encouraged if Biden prevails although possibly expressing slight disappointment that Sanders and Warren were so abruptly swept aside. I will be surprised if there is solidarity on the more progressive side, which would have meant an earlier withdrawal by Warren coupled with a strong endorsement of Sanders. Given what has happened in recent days, I expect Warren to play her remaining cards astutely, which would mean withholding any endorsement of Biden while campaigning hard against Trump and treating Sanders as a lost cause by not endorsing his candidacy, and thereby keeping her future options open by signaling a willingness to accommodate the DNC and the Democratic Party Establishment.  

 

Evasions, Accidents, Engagements, and Fulfillment: An Autobiographical Fragment

2 Mar

[Prefatory Note: this post is something new for me, an autobiographical fragment written at the request of an online listserv as a suggestive model for academics at the start of their careers as diplomatic historians. I publish it here. It was found unsuitable for publication by the group that made the initial solicitation for unspecified reasons. Maybe because my work and career were not relevant to the scholarly life of a diplomatic historian, maybe because I seemed too flaky professionally to serve as a heuristic model, maybe because what I wrote risked an angry reaction from those who have weaponized anti-Semitism as (mis)defined by the IHRA definition, maybe because…a hundred other good reasons, including what was most plausible, least paranoid, that I was in a different lane when it came to a scholarly career, making my condensed narrative a waste of time for aspiring diplomatic historians. If the filter for assessing submissions, I might have rejected on this last basis, but maybe not. It might have depended on what I ate that day for breakfast! In any event, here it is in the spirit of ‘love it or leave it.’]

 

Evasions, Accidents, Engagements, and Fulfillment: An Autobiographical Fragment

 All through adolescence I was an unmotivated student who underperformed while nurturing the illusion that I was a good enough athlete to shape a life around my love of sports. Fortunately, when I was given my big and only chance, a major baseball league tryout with the then NY Giants, back in 1946 still playing in my home town, I failed miserably. Had I succeeded, even barely, I would have happily marched off into the sunset of minor league baseball for the rest of my physically active life, maybe if lucky playing with a Chattanooga farm club. Since sports were not to be, in characteristic middle-class style, I drifted, which in my case meant college after high school.

 

Because my father was a loyal alumnus of the University of Pennsylvania, I was admitted, but it didn’t take me long to make the gatekeepers nervous. Living away from home was more than I could then handle, and I soon found myself on academic probation at the end of my freshman year, the first of my many wakeup calls. I pulled myself together, helped by a couple of studious roommates, and ended up doing well enough to get into Yale Law School three years later, and this time without any privileged access, yet still not knowing what I wanted out of life except that I didn’t want to fail. I also was rather sure that I didn’t want to be a practicing lawyer in the manner of my father and could not hope to become a nationally high ranked tennis player as my mother was, and so I was still adrift, yet with at least this recently acquired resolve to work enough to be a respectable student.

 

For someone with my wayward inclinations, Yale’s law school curriculum lent me cover. I sought out the least vocational subjects being offered, finding such course as the ‘Mathematical Foundation of World Law,’ ‘Ideological Differences and World Law,’ and the pioneering international law offerings of two famous professors, Myres McDougal and Harold Lasswell. To make sure no Ivy law firms would show interest in me I focused my attention on the law of India, being rewarded with a Fulbright Scholarship to the University of Lucknow upon graduation. Again, fortunately, I was rescued by an unlikely benefactor, the U.S. State Department, which cancelled the Fulbright program to India that year to punish the Indian government for not paying for some wheat it had earlier purchased some years ago. I was left with neither a job nor something worth doing, and then rescued from potential freefall and doldrums by a small miracle—the person teaching international law at Ohio State University became unexpectantly too ill to meet his scheduled classes, and the law school, having students already registered for these courses, was desperate enough to hire me for the year.

 

Arriving in Columbus with little sense of what it meant to teach, let alone teach a law course, I was immediately alarmed by being assigned several courses that I had never taken as a student, including one technically demanding course on the procedural complexities of the practice of law before federal courts. Almost the first day I was on the sprawling campus, a strange unexpected feeling of certitude took hold that took me by surprise. I realized that I had almost by accident landed where I really wanted to remain for the rest of my life. Given the chance to perform (my only position of excellence was as an actor in school theater productions), free to do what interested me, with summers without any fixed duties, no real boss and only a few hours a week of scheduled classroom appearances. From the start, I couldn’t believe I was actually being paid to live this kind of privileged, idyllic life. Of course, later on, this rose-tinted sense of academic life was strongly challenged from time to time, but never too seriously, and through my sixty plus years of teaching and writing the glow has never disappeared, and looking back I feel as blessed as I did that first day walking across the OSU campus.

 

And my luck didn’t run out. I was invited to stay on the law faculty after my visiting year expired, which I happily chose to do with the sense that I would be happily committed to this OSU world for as far ahead as I wanted to look. While learning slowly to live as an adult in Ohio, so different from my earlier life in the East, especially Manhattan, I began to discover and enjoy hinterland America, with its more casual sense of life, learning, and community. After a few years of teaching at OSU, I was given a Ford Foundation Fellowship for ‘young law teachers,’ a year of residence at a leading law school. I chose Harvard, partly because it was not Yale, and I wanted a different jurisprudential experience, and partly because I thought living in Cambridge would be enjoyable, and it was. Although the Harvard Law School Dean at the time, Erwin Griswold, a somewhat fearsome figure cut in a Calvinist mode, let me know in our one and only meeting, that he was not pleased having me hang around with no defined academic purpose, insisting that I work for a degree if I wanted his welcome at the law school, which I thought needed. Being perhaps too spineless, I submitted, although I realized that such a conventional degree-seeking mission was not what Ford intended with this program. So be it, I took courses and exams, eventually satisfied the thesis requirement, and finally received a doctoral degree that was never of use, or even a source of pride.

 

While at Harvard, I learned more from fellow graduate law students and non-law faculty than I did from the influential professors on the HLS faculty, especially those in my field who were feuding with my Yale international law mentors, and did not look approvingly at my jurisprudential outlook. I did benefit from fellowship and the progressive outlook of several others in more or less my position, and made lifelong friendships with Georges Abi-Saab, perhaps the most distinguished European/Arab international jurist of his generation, and Saul Mendlovitz, a stimulating academic entrepreneur and world order visionary, who put together a talent group of likeminded scholars from around the world in a project badly named the World Order Models Project, which for several decades met a couple of times a year in all parts of the world with a manifesto to promote peace, justice, and sustainability for all peoples inhabiting the planet. It hardly needs pointing out that after a period of raised hopes, history didn’t cooperate, and the post-colonial world has fallen on hard times with respect to human solidarity, rule of law, and ecological wisdom.

 

After Harvard, more than content to be back in Columbus, a few years later, I received an offer from Princeton that far exceeded my career expectations and was unjustified by my rather thin and unimpressive CV. The offer was packaged as a one-year visiting appointment with light teaching and ample time for research, and came tied to a long-term enticement. I was informed that there was a vacant chair in my field of specialization (international law) for which I qualified, and if I could gain passage through the recruitment process at Princeton the path to an appointment was clear. After some hesitation because I realized that my acceptance of the offer would be the death knell of a captivating romantic relationship, which was already complicated. I accepted the Princeton offer, and the relationship ended, but not only for that reason.

 

From the moment of my arrival at Princeton, I had a double sensation of not quite believing I had been invited to enter such hallowed academic ground and that I somehow didn’t quite belong in such a rarefied atmosphere. I felt that I was not exactly an imposter but could never altogether overcome my sense of being a permanent outsider, especially in relation to Princeton’s strong feelings for its traditions, which included some erasures, including its unforgiveable slowness to admit African Americans, Jews, and women. Such feelings of ambivalence lingered despite my forty years of engagement that were positive in almost every professional sense, and I never lost the sense of being privileged beyond any early expectation to teach talented students, enjoy the fellowship, and often the friendship, of eminent colleagues, and daily benefit from the generous resources of my endowed chair and the exceptional staff support that eased the routine burdens of my life over the four decades. I often felt inwardly embarrassed by not feeling more grateful to Princeton for its professional help, and faulted myself for not mustering more institutional loyalty and identification.

 

In some respects, my early years were from Princeton’s perspective a honeymoon period in which I was welcomed as a valued member of the academic community, appointed to important university committees and invited to take part as a speaker at a variety of campus occasions. This changed as soon as I was seen as more of an activist, and approached international law from the perspective of a disenchanted citizen. This turn coincided with the widespread student disenchantment with the Vietnam War, and the accompanying ‘culture wars’ of the 1960s. Angry alumni singled me out for blame because of my more visible opposition to the war, alleging that I was brainwashing their children by undermining not only Princeton traditions, but patriotism and religion, as well. For a few years, The Princeton Alumni Weekly rarely had an issue without at least one letter critical of my views and impacts on students. All the while, I was mostly amused, being quite aware that it was the students who were radicalizing me, not the other way around. In this period, especially as it became respectable to be opposed to the Vietnam War in the late 1960s, my public image brightened.

I was rather frequently invited to be an expert witness both in the U.S. Congress, and in trials of anti-war activists who claimed that their acts of civil disobedience were justified as attempts to uphold international law that followed from the logic of the Nuremberg Principles and from ideas of citizen responsibility for implementing international criminal law. As was my nature, I did not let this identity as an engaged citizen distract from my scholarly and professional commitments. I chaired several committees on war, law, and intervention for the American Society of International Law, and managed to edit a four-volume series, International Law and the Vietnam War, that brought together the best scholarly work pro and con various legal aspects of the ongoing war. I gave many talks in this period at universities, including even at the main war colleges, and wrote opinion pieces for mainstream media.

 

Yet in this period I did begin to lose academic credibility in some circles. For some, my activism tarnished the image of the teacher/scholar being neutral, not an advocate, especially not for controversial causes, that is, critical of U.S. foreign policy or accompanying liberal internationalism. For others, it was my more visionary writings, challenging the grip on thought within the academy exerted by Machiavellian, Kennanist, and Morgenthauian realists. In contrast, my writing was ignored by the most influential academic members of the international community, and even more so by the Council on Foreign Relations, the grooming venue for both Kissinger and Brzezinski. My work, if not dismissed, as ‘utopian,’ or at minimum, ‘idealistic,’ was treated as relevant to policy debates within the beltway. Such an epistemological stance put me at the margins of both scholarly work and that of policy wonks, and did so even more definitively than did my forays onto the public square, which seemed regarded as manifestations of prolonged adolescence.

 

Once again, lady luck was my companion. I had gone to Stanford, to be a Fellow at the Center for Advanced Study in the Behavioral Sciences in 1968-69 as the Vietnam War was winding down, although campus activism was still rather feverish. My proposed project at the Center had been to write up in book form this combination of academic and activist involvement with the Vietnam War, but then in my first week in residence I went to the communal water cooler for a drink, and got into a conversation with a Stanford physicist who changed, almost, my life, and certainly my intellectual agenda for the year. He was passionately convinced and convincing that a growing world population as yoked to industrial civilization was overrunning the carrying capacity of the earth. I dropped my Vietnam project, and tried to produce a study of the increasingly toxic interplay of population growth, resource depletion, environmental pollution, and the war system. As I was trying to devise a framework for such work, a NY Times correspondent came to the Center, interviewing me among several others. He devoted his feature story to my project, and for the first and last time I was showered with invitations from major publishers, ending with a contract to publish with Random House. The book published in 1971 under the title This Endangered Planet: Prospects and Proposals for Human Survival received a polite reception, but disappointed the publisher who wanted a more popular treatment of these themes, stressing especially the case against further increases in the world population. In retrospect I am mildly proud of the book. I feel it was mildly prophetic, and might be worth revising if I were a decade or so younger. In an updated version I would stick with the framework and basic argument, but would be more sensitive to the clashes, and potential harmonies, of technology, ethics, and spirituality.

 

Part of my Princeton experience, because it lacked a law school and I was never drawn to the technical sides of law and lawyering, was to move toward an embrace of the cognate fields of international relations, foreign policy, and what were being called ‘security studies.’ My stance, was counter-realist, progressive, and non-Marxist. An interest in the interplay of religion and politics gave rise to my interest in the Iranian Revolution and the struggle between Palestinians and Jews about the future of Palestine/Israel. These issues got me into much hot water, distancing me much further from the Western mainstream, and engendering harsh forms of pushback. No more invitations from Congressional committees or to deliver prestigious lectures under prominent auspices. I was largely undaunted, continued my writing and teaching, and felt sustained by those who supported my political and academic waywardness. As the years proceeded, Princeton in political science became more infatuated with quantitative methods and formal modeling, which left me cold. For personal reasons, reaching the age of 70, I retired from Princeton, and with my Turkish wife went West with part time appointments for both of us in the Global Studies Program at the Santa Barbara campus of the University of California. It was a joy to be in the West where friendship counted and the blue skies were addictive, and most of all, where academic life was more communal, not just publishing and perishing. By the end of a couple of years in Santa Barbara we had more friends than I managed to gather in my forty years at Princeton.

 

Despite ‘retirement,’ I never retired in substance, style, and engagement. To my astonishment, I was appointed by the UN Human Rights Council to be Special Rapporteur for Occupied Palestine in 2008, a position that carried some influence and prestige but no salary and lots of work and travel. I felt challenged, but hesitant to be in the line of fire. Throughout the next six years, I was smeared by militant Zionist NGOs, and their followers, regularly receiving death threats and hate mail along with more carefully orchestrated defamatory attacks. Yet I persisted, receiving more credit than I deserved from those sympathetic with my political viewpoints. I was highly critical of Israel from the perspective of international law and human rights, as well as my growing tendency to ‘see’ with the eyes of those being victimized. I came to value my experience as SR, learning what the UN could and couldn’t due, enjoying the pomp and circumstance of annual reports to the Human Rights Council in Geneva and to the General Assembly’s Third Committee in New York City. I prepared several reports each year, and was much in demand by many groups around the world that were devoted to the Palestinian struggle. I continued my academic connections with UCSB during this period, but being targeted by Zionist groups made the once welcoming university administrators wary of my presence, but we continued to find enough deep friendships at the university and in the community to make our life satisfying as divided annually between Santa Barbara and our Turkish seaside home in Yalikavak. In Turkey, also, I found opportunities to teach, and received more opportunities to lecture or take part in conferences than I was willing . In fact, in this period, my reputation seemed to rise elsewhere in the world in ways somewhat proportional to its fall in North America, and it doesn’t require a fully functioning brain to tell why.

 

My main work in this period of limited teaching has been to continue a blog on global justice issues that was a challenging birthday gift from my daughter ten years ago and to write up my life in the form of a memoir tentatively titled Being Progressive in America. The title may strike some as self-serving. The memoir mainly attempts to depict my slow coming of age politically and intellectually, seeking a place within the academic community, while taking an active part in several ongoing political struggles, often adopting controversial positions that enabled me to combine social activism with scholarly contributions. Whether I can find a publisher foolish enough to take on a 900 page plus text remans in limbo, but I will try, perhaps splitting the present manuscript into two separate books, a life fracture that I can live with.   Whatever becomes of this undertaking, it has allowed me to sum up my life to myself. Whether my trials and tribulations will interest to others remains unknown, and likely unknowable.

 

As I tried to suggest, I have been fortunate in pursuing an academic career, greatly enriched by taking full advantage of some lucky and accidental developments. I enjoyed teaching and writing throughout, and although sometimes chided for not trying to be more prudent in expressing my views or for engaging in too many controversial events, I am glad that I was throughout my professional life more responsive to my conscience than to my career ambition to be taken seriously in the corridors of wealth and power. I have no regrets about the path taken, and probably was empowered to do so, by a robust tradition of academic freedom at Princeton. I might not have fared as well at a less secure academic institution, and certainly not in an array of countries with autocratic leaders where academic critics are singled out for repression, or worse. In my 90th year, I have the hope that many others, taking account of variations of personality and training, will seek to make the world a better habitat as well as help their students become knowledgeable and engaged, finding their own ways to feel, think, and act as progressive public intellectuals.

 

The present near panic brought about by the spread of the COVID-19 is a lethal form of globalization that may help us realize that we cannot wall off the world outside the boundaries of our particular political communities, and never could, as the global epidemics of earlier centuries demonstrate. With climate change, nuclear weapons, extreme poverty, and ecological neglect menacing the future, we are challenged to awaken to the intermix of

risk and opportunity that will make or break humanity in the course of coming decades. The primary challenge of the moment is to throw off the autocrats and demagogues that have taken over so many countries in the world by charming the masses or through the persecution of women and men of conscience. It is a struggle worth waging.

      

 

 

How Sanders Wins and Governs–Winning and Losing in 2020

24 Feb

How Sanders Wins and Governs–Winning and Losing in 2020

 

Anyone sensitive to the American political scene has become aware of an emerging collision between surging citizen support for Bernie Sanders and the lamentations of portfolio (stocks & bonds) driven Democrats who purport to question Sanders’ electability, and even if they now most reluctantly acknowledge the robustness of his electoral challenge to Trump, contend that he will be never be able to govern given his left agenda and considering the likely embitterment of the DNC establishment.

 

Admittedly, in my voting lifetime there has never been a credible candidate that is disliked by Wall Street, the Pentagon, and AIPAC. Yet, until now over many decades there has also never been a candidate that has been so ardently affirmed and trusted as Sanders by those who are tired of this regressive electoral hegemony achieved by these three pillars of the bipartisan American establishment. The person who came closest in the past to posing a similar challenge was, of course, Sanders in 2016, which had his challenge back then been allowed to happen, we might have been relieved of the present agonizing prospect of the renewal of Trump’s electoral mandate. The Sanders challenge is long overdue, and yet the Bloomberg millions and the wish for establishment continuity should not be underestimated. It is certainly not underfunded. These pale blue forces, although anti-Trump, are determined to spend and intensify their anti-Sanders campaign until they achieve their goals. They are down, but far from out, and seem in the end to care more about securing ‘a three pillars candidate’ (whoever it might be) than defeating Trump. For Trump, despite his explosive bombast and crazy tweets has pandered to Wall Street (tax breaks for the ultra-rich), Pentagon (highest budget ever in peacetime), and AIPAC (Israel gets green light for settlements, Jerusalem, Golan Heights that even prior pro-Israel partisan presidents held back on). In this sense, despite the ridicule of liberals, ‘Trump gets American politics.’

 

Against this background, principled pragmatism suggests a formula: Elizabeth Warren soon withdraws from the primary battle, despite her admirable campaign, throwing her support to Sanders. In turn Sanders pledges compatibility with her programs on health, education, and immigration, or proposes ways to blend her detailed proposals with his proclaimed objectives; he also promises her selection as his chief economic advisor throughout his presidency, while indicating an unconditional commitment to be at most a one-term president, coupled with some language suggesting that he will do all in his power to secure the 2024 Democratic Party nomination for Warren.

 

Such a formula is likely to be difficult to make operational, but if the alternative is a blue-tinged red billionaire becoming either candidate or kingmaker, we will be living under Trump in what amounts to a choiceless democracy for at least another four years. If portfolio Democrats win this battle, as they did in 2016, we might as well reconcile ourselves to an ‘always Trump’ future, dimming the lights of genuine democracy for a long, long time. They will express shock and regret as the Trump victory becomes apparent, but will unusually sleep well that night!

Weaponizing Lawfare in The Philippines

22 Feb

[Prefatory Note: The following text is the transcript of my presentation by video transmission to a Forum held in Manila on February 21, 2020 in support of Senator Leila De Lima who has been detained in prison for many months on spurious charges of drug trafficking. Such a case is an example of ‘weaponizing law’ (regressive lawfare) to carry out the anti-democratic policies of a fairly elected autocrat, which in the case of Rodrigo Duterte, despite leaving by now a long trail of blood-stained abuse, retains an approval rating of more than 80%. As in the United States, we ask the question that prompted the leading thinkers in ancient Athens to abandon democracy—‘how can we trust the citizenry if they are drawn to support demagogues whose policies are self-destructive for the political community?” If not, the people, then whom? Surely, not the financial oligarchs. Plutocracy is not the answer.]

 

 

Weaponizing Lawfare in The Philippines

 

 Good Afternoon:

I salute those who have convened and are participating in this International Forum on Lawfare, and wish that I could have been with you in person to share this experience directly rather than addressing you from a distance. The title of the conference accurately identifies the core of the challenge facing the people of the Philippines: ‘Weaponizing the Law v. Democratic Dissent.’ The prolonged detention and framing of Senator Leila M. de Lima, not only a brave and dedicated political figure, but an elected member of the Senate of the Philippines, is a shocking reminder of how abuses of power occur in a country that claims to be a constitutional democracy.

 

Senator de Lima’s tragic saga, gives an anguished concreteness to the challenge being mounted by the President Rodrigo Duterte’s Government against freedom of expression and associated right of political dissent. What this pattern represents, above all, is the distorted application of law and the manipulation of basic institutions of government. This means, in practice, that law does not serve its proper role of protecting citizens against abuses by the state, but rather functions as an instrument of naked power deployed by the state against notable critics and opposition figures, including person elected to the highest offices in the land. Under these circumstances law becomes an instrument of the authoritarian designs of an oppressive political leader. Such a leader views criticism not as part of the essential give and take of a political democracy, but rather as an impermissible assault on his leadership, almost reducing political leadership to a menacing call for unquestioning obedience on the part of citizens. Even elected members of the most prominent legislative and judicial institutions of the country are commanded to obey or expect harmful consequences. It is against this background that I wish to offer some thoughts on ‘lawfare’ as a weapon of the powerful, displacing law from its appropriate role as a source of restraint that ensures the just exercise of power. Under autocratic leadership lawfare can function as an inquisitorial tool, as here, for the suppression of Senator de Lima, a deservedly revered and until detained, a leading legislative presence in The Philippines.

 

There are four preliminary observations that I wish to make:

–first, what is happening in The Philippines is taking place, in a variety of formats throughout much of the world; it is a global trend that threatens not only democracy, but the protection of human rights, the constitutional structure of government based on checks and balances, the dignity of individual citizens, and the independence of persons elected to serve in government; law is being deployed as a weapon of government to be used against the citizen, especially against persons with political credibility and high national stature as is the case with Senator de Lima;

–secondly, such repressive uses of law by leaders is not new, although its widespread and flagrant use by democratically elected governments that enjoy popular support among the citizenry is a rather new and deeply disturbing phenomenon, especially in the current setting of ultra-nationalist backlashes against neoliberal globalization that along the way gave rise to mass support for political demagogues in a series of countries in different parts of the world, suggesting its systemic character;

–thirdly, and most significantly, lawfare as such should not be uncritically condemned, but rather its use as a means to deny basic rights should be unconditionally exposed, opposed, and rejected. The manipulation of lawfare to serve regressive ends is particularly perverse, considering that lawfare has the potential, when properly deployed in the pursuit of justice.

 

To illustrate this duality I offer a current example drawn from recent European and North American experience. Criminalizing as hate speech or anti-Semitism criticism of Israel’s policies and practices is a clear case of regressive lawfare, but recourse by Palestine to the International Criminal Court to investigate allegations of Israeli criminality is illustrative of progressive lawfare. It is important to distinguish between these contradictory roles of law—as repressive and as emancipatory. The Palestinian BDS Campaign seeks boycott, divestment, and sanctions as lawful resistance against the apartheid practices of the Israeli state, and in my view, this is a nonviolent political campaign that convincingly relies on legal claims of Israeli wrongdoing to strengthen the pursuit of justice..

–fourthly, having made this conceptual point about the two faces of lawfare, in this presentation I will focus on its negative dimensions in ways that pertain to the case before us. I precede this assessment with a short observation about being attentive to lawfare’s progressive relevance to Senator de Lima’s plight.

Civil society activism can also claim to invoke the law to undermine the legitimacy of an abusive governing process. Many years ago, during the Marcos reign of power in The Philippines, I worked closely with Walden Bello to organize a session of the Permanent Peoples Tribunal in Brussels that listen to the testimony of witnesses and carefully documented the crimes of the Marcos government as perpetrated against the citizenry of the country. The proceedings of the tribunal produced a devastating record of abuse of state power, which when published, helped prepared the atmosphere for what later became the People Power Movement of the 1980s. In terms of lawfare, this civil society initiative was an example of progressive lawfare. Similar tribunal initiatives have been undertaken in many settings around the world to exhibit the abusiveness of government, especially when conventional means of judicial address are unavailable. I believe such a civil tribunal format might possess a similar potential in the present context if formal legal defense procedures now being pursued by a team of highly respected lawyers should fail to restore the rights, win freedom and fully exonerate Senator Leila M. de Lima in a manner that allows her to resume her legislative duties.

 

The  Distinctive Challenge of Regressive Lawfare in the Context of Constitutional Democracy

The reliance by autocracies on repressive lawfare is neither surprising nor new, although this terminology was not previously used. Whether the autocratic political form is monarchical, fascist, or communist the use of law to impose its will on society occasions little commentary as it is taken for granted that such a governance style is a common and integral feature of all anti-democratic forms of governance. For constitutional democracies the story has been much different in the past, and thus recent developments raise profound concerns about the future of democracy given recent assaults on its respect for fundamental rights. We should not exaggerate. There have been regrettable aspects of constitutional legal orders that have relied on repressive uses of law, for instance, apartheid South Africa, which possessed a constitutional framework to validate its exploitation and oppression of non-whites, and their exclusion from civil rights. Racism was seen as so much part of the South African political system as to occasion little distinct commentary on its repressive uses of law beyond the realization that overcoming such structural lawfare depended on achieving a radical political transformation. Piecemeal corrective measures would not rid South Africa of the political virus of apartheid, only a total repudiation of the ideology and practice of apartheid could restore the rule of law for all South Africans regardless of their skin color.

 

In recent years, especially in the aftermath of the 9/11 attacks, national security discourse in the United States has been a battleground for contesting ideas about how lawfare was used and misused. National security hawks contending that according due process protection to those suspected of terrorist activities was ‘lawfare’ that interfered with national security imperatives requiring reliance on ‘enhanced interrogation’ techniques to obtain the information needed to protect the citizenry against terrorist threats. In sharp disagreement, civil libertarians invoked law and civil rights to oppose and denounce the demonization of Muslims and the accompanying denial of rights to those accused of criminal activities that supposedly endangered national security. This reliance on law as distinct from negative lawfare was also highly critical of the government’s slight of hand– officially calling ‘torture’ enhanced interrogation, and thus evading condemnation for lawlessness. Only apologists for torture allowed themselves to be manipulated.

 

The struggles between defense lawyers and government lawyers at the Guantanamo prison facility is one phase of this wider drama in which what is at stake is how far the law is bent to serve the purposes of a constitutional state that claims to be dealing with grave threats to its security. It has long been affirmed, and generally tolerated, that in times of war, law is silent, or almost so, and yet it is also true that anti-war activists have increasingly challenged such silence by insisting on the applicability of law regardless of circumstances.

 

The mass internment of Japanese, as a group, with legal residence in the West Coast, for alleged national security reasons at the start of World War II after the Pearl Harbor attacks, was a fundamental abuse of individuals rights to due process by the U.S. Government, but upheld by the majority of judges in the US Supreme Court, which lent its legal authority and prestige to this negative instance of lawfare. To this day, Japanese internment remains a major regrettable departure from the rule of law in the United States but is considered, not entirely accurately, as an exception, later gathering apologies and expressions of regret from presidents and other political leaders. This kind of departures from the rule of law in wartime, although to be opposed in defense of democratic values, is something different and less serious than the lawfare tactics of autocratic leaders seeking to stifle dissent and discredit opposition in state/society relations. These tactics, if successful, engulf all branches of government, having the effect of disabling democracy altogether. The regressive impact of such lawfare extends beyond the concrete abuse of an individual, however prominent. Such tactics intimidate many more than they punish, and thereby act to pacify society as a whole at the very time when the citizenry needs to be mobilized to protect the integrity of a political system that safeguards rather than punishes participation by the citizenry, including dissent and opposition.

 

A further somewhat ambiguous dimension of lawfare can be seen in the imposition of punishment via the application of law to surviving leaders of the losing side in a war, as was the case after World War II at the Nuremberg and Tokyo Trials of German and Japanese leaders accused of committing international crimes. Should the one-sidedness of such uses of law, so-called ‘victors’ justice’ be regarded as one category of regressive lawfare, or is the punishment of individuals who perpetrated terrible acts be treated as a contribution to constructing a global rule of law, and thus should be viewed as an instance of flawed, yet still progressive lawfare. This is an example of the ambiguity of lawfare in concrete circumstance. Lawfare can be viewed either positively or negatively depending on overall context and the motivations behind invoking and perceiving law. Let me be clear. There is no ambiguity in relation to Senator de Lima’s case. It is without doubt an extreme instance of negative lawfare.

 

What we have seen around the world with the emergence of such leaders as Trump, Modi, Bolsonaro, Erdogan, and Duterte is this new phenomenon of democratic electoral procedures elevating and even sustaining anti-democratic leaders despite their abuse of positions of preeminent authority to obstruct and punish those in the opposition by manipulating law and even the most basic government institutions to serve the purposes of power at the expense of justice. This is not a matter of deference to security claims made under wartime pressures and contexts of national emergency, although such pretexts are generally relied upon, presumed, and greatly exaggerated, even absent such security threats. Autocrats tend to explain and justify why a controversial particular action is taken by fictitious reasoning or why a formerly respected person is made to seem guilty by distorting normal legal practice. These tactics involve deliberate manipulations of law and government procedures, including the erosion and subversion of the vital independence of legislative and judicial institutions to cripple opposition politics by criminalizing its leading opponents. In the process, if unopposed and persistent, the very status of a constitutional political order is drawn into question.

 

There are those in the United States who view Trumpism as pre-fascist, or worse, and fear that his reelection in 2020 would mean the de facto replacement of democracy with fascism. In the recent impeachment process, we observed a polarized and Congress divided along partisan lines as to the application of diverse forms of lawfare, with the Democrats using impeachment as an intended and seemingly responsible reaction against severe abuses of power, in effect, a legal instrument designed in exceptional circumstances to rid the country of a profound threat to its system of government. In opposition, the Republicans stand firm behind their autocratically inclined leader, condemning recourse to impeachment as regressive lawfare, placing party discipline above fidelity to the rule of law and their oath of office to uphold the Constitution. This major setback for the rule of law in America ominously warns us that even in long established political democracies opportunistic politics can overwhelm constitutional protections against abuses of state power.

 

When addressing the realities that have been discussed these past days, it seems clear that we are in this case seeking to protect not only Senator de Lima, but the people of The Philippines as a whole against regressive lawfare. There is little ambiguity when dissent is muffled by criminalizing the dissenter, as here, although the real and unworthy motivations for such accusations are hidden beneath clouds of false and inflammatory accusations of criminality, as here.

 

In a deeply disturbing resemblance to the Trump impeachment experience, Senator de Lima has also been victimized by Duterte partisanship in the Senate, including being deprived of the opportunity to serve the people who her elected her to office for a term that does not expire until 2022. While detained in prison she has been denied the right to vote on legislative issues and to participate in debates. She has even been removed from her role as Chair of the Committee on Justice & Human Rights in apparent retaliation for accusing the Duterte policies of unlawful extra-judicial executions of persons accused of dealing in drugs. While acting against Senator de Lima, she was attacked in unspeakably vulgar terms by Duterte partisans in language that was a vicious form of character assassination. This Forum by calling wider public attention to this abuse of Senator de Lima by all branches of government is based on the hope that the resilience of Filipino constitutionalism will come even now to the rescue not just of a single individual but in a manner that restores confidence that the rule of law can function under the altered conditions of political democracy in The Philippines.  

 

What Can Be Done

Responding to regressive lawfare as effectively as possible depends, in the first instance, on assessing the context, above all the degree to which executive authority, judicial independence, and legislative autonomy are operating within constitutional limits. If the deviation from adherence to the rule of law is partial, exceptional, and seems reversible, then a maximum effort should be made to make intelligent use of formal legal procedures as provided. Such professional lawyering should be supplemented, to the extent possible, by media coverage and the engagement of academic experts that exposes the political nature of any misuse of law, arousing a responsive public opinion. Such extra-legal pressure in a political system that maintains its claims of democratic legitimacy can be effective in persuading wavering judges and conformist legislators to do the right thing, and at least refrain from doing the wrong thing.

 

The challenge is more difficult where the institutions of government have been repeatedly subverted by the autocratic leader, and especially under conditions where the opposition media has been eliminated or cowed into submission, and popular protest activity is being met by harsh police tactics. Of course, such assessments should take account of nuances and the extent to which a leader seeks to avoid being nationally and internationally branded as an abusive autocrat.

 

Unfortunately, at the present time the overall political atmosphere makes resistance to lawfare more difficult as the combination of ultra-nationalism and right-wing populist leadership has become widespread, including in several countries previously considered reliable custodians stalwarts of liberal constitutionalism. In gentler times, international efforts to mount petition campaigns by prominent citizens around the world in defense of a ‘political prisoner’ were often successful, and still may be worthwhile

in a case of this sort where such a respected and prominent elected official is being victimized by such a crude recourse to lawfare. Autocracy is almost always a matter of degree, especially if free elections remain. If opposition politics are tolerated, then it remains possible sometimes to challenge the system effectively, as happened recently in Turkey when a much watched election of the mayor of Istanbul was won by a political leader in an opposition party. This, in turn, may lead the government to restore some liberal features of governance, which some commentators claim has modestly happened in Turkey in recent months. Autocrats prefer to act in the dark, using their control over media and supporters to smear opponents. Senator de Lima’s case is an extreme example of law gone wrong, a pattern of injustice being challenged to the extent possible by courageous and highly professional lawyers, but this may not be enough. Other course of action, including progressive lawfare, should be under consideration if further attempts to render justice on behalf of Senator de Lima do not succeed.

 

I would mention a few additional possibilities that deserve careful evaluation, and possible adoption, especially if human and financial resources are available:

–enlisting the support of nationally and internationally respected NGOs, encouraging the preparation of a public report on abuse of rights and regressive lawfare in The Philippines; Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have often been effective over the years in documenting abuse, and exerting some leverage;

–filing allegations via Special Rapporteurs of the UN Human Rights Council in Geneva, including the SR for the Right to Freedom of Expression,   to evaluate these multiple abuses, reporting to the 47 governments in an open session of the Human Rights Council, passing a resolution, and sending a letter of allegation to the government of The Philippines are steps worth consideration; in this regard, it is relevant to note that The Philippines is an elected member of the Human Rights Council, and likely does not want its reputation tarnished within the institution;

–explore the possibility of organizing an international civil society tribunal, possibly outside the country, along the lines of such an initiative taken during the Marcos presidency or possible modelled on the Iraq War Tribunal of 2005. Autocratic leaders are allergic to procedures that document their abuses and crimes, and pass judgment based on the conscience of moral authority figures, the testimony of victims, and the opinions of legal experts. The subsequent published and disseminated proceedings of such a tribunal can become a valuable mobilizing instrument of progressive lawfare;

–less formally, yet along the same lines, would be the preparation of a dossier on Senator de Lima’s experience that could be shared confidentially with sympathetic political leaders around the world.

 

Concluding Comment

It is definitely a positive sign of a degree of democratic resilience in The Philippines that a conference of this kind can be organized and go forward. It will be a test of sorts as to whether the Duterte government will extend its use of regressive lawfare to uphold the suppression of dissent and criticism. In my reading of the legal briefs and documents pertaining to Senator de Lima’s case, I am convinced of her innocence and her victimization. I believe that the impact of this Forum will help determine whether bringing her terrible experience to light will induce the Manila government belatedly to salvage its international reputation to some extent by dropping charges. She has been fortunate to have the benefit of an outstanding Chief of Staff, Fhillip Sawali, who works in coordination with Senator de Lima’s well-respected team of lawyers. Senator de Lima also has the high-profile support of such international admired warriors of human rights and democracy as Walden Bello. I fervently wish Senator de Lima a deservedly bright future in her struggle, which iss also a struggle for the soul of the country. It has been a privilege for me to have this opportunity to participate in this Forum. I wish you all the best for now and in the future. 

Respecting International Law: A Practical Argument

20 Feb

[Prefatory Note: International law, as so much else of value, has fallen on hard times,

violated and ignored, where applicable and needed. Although this is a deplorable state of affairs as the planet burns and vulnerable people suffer from ecological hazards and predatory geopolitics, it is the time to heighten struggle, and not sit home in despair. This essay in a slightly modified form was written at the request of Fikir Turu, an online source of commentary operating from Turkey, and published in Turkish. An English version was also published in Transcend Media Service, TMS, 17 February 2020.] 

 

Respecting International Law: A Practical Argument

International law disappoints in so many ways, making it easy to overlook why, despite its flaws, it remains valuable and indeed vital for human wellbeing. I put here to one side its usefulness for managing the touristic, trade and investment, maritime, and networking dimensions of international and transnational life, which most of us take for granted until something goes wrong. And I also take note of the inability of international law to fulfill the hopes of idealists who suppose that law on its own can banish war or ensure that international disputes are resolved by applying law rather than through power leveraging. If we are attentive to current events, as the media reports war/peace issues we would quickly conclude that invoking international law in these high profile settings is to be out of touch with how sovereign states go about pursuing their most important economic and political interests, which in areas touching on security is by trusting their military capabilities and alliance relations, and not by believing that as long as their actions and policies stay on the right side of the law, they have nothing to worry about.

 

Against such a background, my assessment suggests that international law is more relevant even in war/peace settings than what the men who still make most of the big foreign policy decisions realize. A major point here is a reflection of the global turn toward governments led by anti-democratic political figures who gained power by winning free elections. The voting public in many leading countries seems ready to support governments that do away with civil liberties, the protection of basic human rights, and even move to subvert the independence of the judiciary and legislative branches of government. Some of the policies of such autocratic leaders violate fundamental norms of international law as when a minority is persecuted by ethnic cleansing or genocidal policies, or in more limited ways by denying rights of free expression to dissenting voices in the media, among opposition leaders in and out of government, and at universities.

 

In such circumstances, it remains useful for supporters of true freedom to be able to appeal to international law as an authoritative yardstick by which to assess the government behavior alleged as being abusive. In this regard, the recourse of Gambia to the International Court of Justice to challenge the genocide of the Rohingya by the government of Myanmar. Similarly, the current effort of Palestine to persuade the International Criminal Court to investigate alleged crimes against humanity committed by Israel against the Palestinian people is illustrative of the political significance of international law even if unable to regulate the offending behavior. These are both high profile instances of apparent international crimes that could otherwise be hidden behind the heavy curtain of national sovereignty. The guidelines of international law are crucial in raising the voices of public opinion and even some government on such issues of moral salience in an effective manner, and essential to gain access to international institutions in some circumstances of state crime so as to challenge, and at least document, criminality in an influential manner.

 

By pointing out such options, it is not meant to suggest that the leadership in Myanmar or Israel will necessarily repudiate their past policies, or alter their abusive behavior. What is achieved is some lessening of legitimacy, and this may matter enough to moderate and deter, if not transform behavior. More liberally inclined governments may be less likely to enter favorable relationships or agree to participate in cultural or sporting events with gross offenders of human rights and basic legal norms. These kinds of subtle acknowledgements of wrongdoing do have an impact, although rarely acknowledged, until some momentous change unexpectedly takes place, as for example when South African apartheid submitted to international pressure and dismantled apartheid. An interesting legal example occurred back in the 1980s when the United States was mining the harbors of Nicaragua to exert unlawful pressures on a Marxist-oriented government in control of this tiny country. The Nicaraguan Government could not hope to challenge by force American policies that seemed to violate the rule of international law that condemned all uses of international force other than in carefully defined instances of self-defense, but it did have recourse to the International Court of Justice due to an obscure treaty that conferred such an option if a dispute between the two governments could not be settled by direct negotiations. The U.S. refused to participate in such a judicial proceeding, but despite this, the World Court in The Hague accepted the case, and a majority of its judges agreed that Nicaragua had a convincing legal grievance, and so declared. The U.S. judge on the highest UN judicial tribunal defended the American policies, and Washington denounced the decision. And yet, a few months later the U.S. stopped mining Nicaragua’s harbors, and in effect, covertly complied with the decision upholding the applicability of international law.

 

Even Myanmar mounts its strongest possible defense by hiring a team of Western international law experts to present its case. Israeli strategists and think tanks warn the government that attacks on the legitimacy of Israel, that is undertakings complaining about its flagrant lawlessness, are bigger threats to Israeli security than is the Palestinian armed struggle. Having law and morality on one’s side has proved a bigger overall asset in violent political conflicts since 1945 than dominating the battlefield. The United States lost the war in Vietnam during the 1960s despite controlling the conventional military dimensions of the conflict, as did the Soviet Union when it intervened more than a decade later in Afghanistan. The major governments in the world are slow to learn from this kind of failure because militarism is embedded in their governing DNA. This reflects the outmoded faith in military superiority as the principal engine of history as well as the bedrock of national security. What is overlooked is that ever since World War II, people not armies have won the characteristic conflicts of the last 75 years, and their highest aspirations for self-determination and independent political statehood have been aligned with international law. In this sense, large states, as well as small and medium states, would themselves be much better off if their policies in the war/peace and security areas adhered to international law guidelines rather than followed the discretionary dictates and spending priorities of hard power realists. To the extent this assessment of the changed role of power in international relations is correct, China stands out as comprehending the benefits of embracing soft power realism, by way of trade, investment, and clever diplomacy is the manner to expand influence and raise stature in the 21st century. In this fundamental sense, international law, which can be conceived of as aa soft power calculus in relation to the use of force, has an untested potential to guide governments and their citizens toward a peaceful, prosperous, and ecologically sustainable future, but only if militarist myths and military/industrial/media complexes are discarded.

 

International law also provides the weak and vulnerable with a means to build support for their struggles against abusive uses of state power, including finding law-related ways to resist autocratic leaders who rely on regressive ‘lawfare’ to stifle political dissent and suppress freedom of expression. For instance, those victimized can appeal their cases to special rapporteurs of the UN Human Rights Council who can give political visibility, moral/legal credibility, and sometimes exert effective pressure on governments alleged to be violating basic rights. The elected autocrat of the Philippines, Rodrigo Duterte, uses his manipulation of the legislative and judicial branches of government to frame and imprison political opponents and dissenters, while solidarity initiatives respond by invoking international law standards and procedures to challenge such unlawful behavior, in effect, recourse to progressive lawfare tactics.

 

Finally, civil society activism formulates its agendas, and builds its support, by illuminating the lawlessness of governments, especially in relation to geopolitical actors that enjoy effective impunity under international law. There are many such uses of international law, going back to the tribunals on the Vietnam War organized in the late 1960s with the backing of Bertrand Russell, passing legal judgment on the violations of Vietnamese sovereignty by American-led military intervention. Another notable example was the Iraq War Tribunal of 2005 held in Istanbul, bringing together legal experts and moral/cultural personalities to pass judgment on the spurious claims that the U.S./UK military attack and occupation of Iraq were consistent with fundamental norms of international criminal law. Such a legal proceeding did not end the occupation but it strengthened the political will of those who opposed such policies as well as providing a documentary record of geopolitical lawlessness that could not be compiled if an international legal framework did not exist and enjoy the formal endorsement of those states whose behavior was being judged.

 

In the end, we can and should still lament the shortcomings of international law, but if we seek an international order that respects rights and is more peaceful, it is vital to appreciate the present and potential role of international law. It can offer constructive policy guidelines for policymakers and leaders, better aligning foreign policy with national interests given the increasing limits on the utility of military force under contemporary condition. It also allows civil society activism to ground their solidarity initiatives on a foundation of international law rather than on mere political passion, and can serve to deter some governments from pursuing policies that violate international human standards and would likely weaken their reputation as responsible members of world society. The work of some international NGOs, such as Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, not only depends on the existence of legal standards, but shows that many powerful governments care enough about their reputations at home and abroad to curb their lawlessness if confronted by prospects of exposure. Of course, it would be wrong to expect too much from a reliance on international law in this period when even those states that claim the legitimacy of political democracy are choosing leaderships and adopting policies that defy such values and practices. Many of us are discovering that procedural democracy, as principally expressed by free elections and independent political parties, offers little assurance that the political winners will adhere to the rule of law, that is, the norms and institutional arrangements of substantive democracy, when in positions of political authority. Such disillusionment is accentuated by the growing evidence that such leaders retain their popularity with the citizenry even when they are unscrupulous lawbreakers. And, of course, less political and moral friction is present when the laws being twisted or broken pertain to foreign policy. International law is not reinforced at this point by strong populist expectations of compliance, although rule of law considerations may be invoked when a state is targeted for intervention or sanctions.

 

 

Meeting Grand Ayatollah 41 Years Ago

15 Feb

 

[Prefatory Note: In February 1979, along with two others, I had a meeting with Ayatollah Khomeini. The post below is an edited text of an interview by two Iranian journalists, Maryam Khormaei & Javad Heiran-Nia, which was published a few weeks ago in Iran. As few Westerners had such an opportunity to meet the leader of the Iranian Revolution in a relatively relaxed atmosphere and for an ample length of time, there seemed interest in Iran and elsewhere in my recollections of that meeting. At the time, it was one of the first extended discussions with this mysterious individual who led the revolution from exile, first from Najaf, Iraq, and during its final stages from Paris. One cannot help but wonder about what this religious leader would say of Iran, the world around him, given the passage of more than 40 turbulent years. It seems his leadership in the early post-Shah period set the Islamic tone for Iranian political life and established a theocratic structure that has persisted for four decade, despite periodic protests, yet achieving durability even in the face of persistent efforts to destabilize the government, accompanied by coercive steps taken by its regional and global adversaries to promote regime change. Israel, Saudi Arabia, and the United States have continuously confronted Iran, imposing sanctions and threatening military action. Efforts of the West overtly focused on preventing Iran from acquiring nuclear weapons, and this goal seemed well within reached as a result of energetic diplomatic efforts during the Obama presidency. Since Trump became President in 2017 progress toward normalization has ended, and been sharply reversed. Tensions have steadily mounted after the U.S. withdrew from the agreement and Iran gradually discontinued compliance with the breached treaty. As of now, the danger of war cannot be ruled out. I doubt that the situation would be much different if the Supreme Guide of Iran was still Imam Khomeini rather than his successor, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei. The nuclear proliferation issue is not the only concern of Iran adversaries. Iran’s additional influence in the region and indeed the persistence of an anti-Western outlook in Tehran have kept burning the fires of confrontation.]

 

Interview Questions February 1979 Meeting with Grand Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini

 

-Toward the climax of Iran’s Islamic revolution, as a member of an American      delegation, you visited Iran. What were the objectives of that trip?

Response: I was chair of a small committee in the United States with the name, “Committee for the Defense of Human Rights in Iran,” which sponsored events with Iranian students and arranged university speaking visits for some prominent Iranian political figures living in the United States. Our efforts became active within university settings as the revolutionary movement in Iran gathered momentum during 1978.

The Committee had almost no funding, but had dedicated members, and achieved a certain visibility as there was so little attention being given to these historic developments in Iran unfolding with increasing intensity as the months passed. The treatment of these issues in the Western mainstream media was not only mostly very pro-Shah but also quite uninformative, and even uninformed, and minimized the political challenge being posed by this popular uprising.

It was in this context that I received as chair of the Committee an invitation from Mehdi Bazargan to visit Iran as part of a delegation of three persons for a period of two weeks. I was also invited to find two other persons to form the delegation. The stated purpose of the visit was to convey to selected Americans a better understanding of the revolution underway. I felt that it was important to accept this invitation precisely for the reasons given in the letter of invitation. Our objective, then, was to achieve a clearer understanding of the nature and objectives of the revolutionary movement in Iran, and do our best after returning to share the experience and our impressions as widely as possible, and this is what we did.

In this spirit I tried hard to find two persons who would benefit from such a visit, possessed an open mind toward the challenge being posed to imperial rule in Iran, and had some access to and credibility with media and influential audiences back in the United States. My first two choices both agreed without hesitation or conditions to join the delegation. Ramsey Clark was my first choice. He had been prominent in government, having been Attorney General, was part of a well-known American political family, and had quite recently even been considered as a possible Democratic candidate for the American presidency. Besides being extremely intelligent, Ramsey had a high profile that generated media attention and he had a well-deserved reputation for courage and integrity, quietly telling America unpleasant and inconvenient truths without mincing his words.

My second choice was Philip Luce, a prominent religious activist who achieved world fame by his public acts of civil opposition to the Vietnam War. Phil gained widespread notice in the late 1960s when he evaded official protocol to show a visiting group of American Congressmen ‘the tiger cages’ in a Saigon jail used by the government to torture political prisoners. Like Ramsey, Phil was a person of unquestioned integrity, and fearless in searching for the truth in controversial political settings.

The three of us made the trip without deep prior personal associations, although we had known and respectd each other and were friendly, having cooperated several times in the past on anti-war political projects. During the somewhat arduous trip to a country in the midst of a popular revolution, we got along very well, and enjoyed each other’s company, despite the extremely tense times we experienced in Iran. We also cooperated in sharing our impressions subsequent to the trip.

 

-How different was what you witnessed in Iran from the US media narratives about      the Iranian revolution’s character?

Response: The differences were dramatic, and rather disturbing. The US media conveyed very little understanding of the character of the movement in Iran, and was perplexed by its strength and outlook. At the time, the Shah’s government was a close ally of the United States in the midst of the Cold War, and Iran’s strategic location with respect to the Soviet Union made it very important to Washington to keep the Shah’s regime in control of the country. As well, the US Government, having played an important role by way of covert intervention in the 1953 coup that restored the Shah to the Peacock Throne displacing a democratically elected leader, there was a particularly strong commitment made in Washington to doing whatever was necessary to crush this nonviolent mass movement led by a then still rather obscure religious figure living in exile, and portrayed as a remnant of the Middle Ages. It was deemed unthinkable within the United States government that such a seemingly primitive movement of the Iranian people could produce the collapse of the Iranian government that had formidable military and police capabilities at its disposal, possessed a political will to use lethal ammunition against its own people when challenging the government in a series of unarmed demonstrations. The Shah’s government had also gained the geopolitical benefits of a ‘special relationship’ with the most powerful state in the world, and in return was deeply invested in upholding the regional and global interests of the United States. In such a setting Western media was uncritical, reflecting the propaganda and ideological outlook of the government, and was not a source of independent and objective journalism. There was some confusion arising from the fact that Islamic forces had been seen as anti-Marxist and anti-Soviet, and until the Iranian developments, were not seen as a threat to Western interests.

It was in such an atmosphere that we hoped that we could bring some more informed and realistic commentary on the unfolding revolutionary process in Iran, including identifying its special character as neither left nor right, seemingly led by a religious leader who remained virtually unknown in the West. It was even unclear to us at the time of our visit whether Ayatollah Khomeini was the real leader of the movement or only a temporary unifying figurehead, whose political role would end as soon as the Shah was removed from power. We hoped to provide some insight into such questions, as well as to understand whether the new political realities in Iran would produce confrontation or normalization with the United Stats. Was the U.S. now prepared, as it was not in 1953, to live with the politics of self-determination as it operated in Iran or would it seek once more to intervene on behalf of its geopolitical agenda and in support of its political friends?

Indeed, we did have some effect on the quality of Western media coverage of the developments in Iran. Ramsey Clark and myself were invited to do many interviews and asked to describe our impressions of what was happening in Iran by mainstream TV channels and print outlets. As a result, at least until the hostage crisis in the Fall of 1979, discussion of Iran politics became more informed and some useful political debate emerged, at least for a while, on the implications of this Islamic challenge to the entrenched Iranian political and economic leadership.

 

-You met the then Prime Minister of Iran Shapour Bakhtiar on the same day when Mohammad Reza Pahlavi left Iran. What was Bakhtiar’s assessment of the developments including Shah’s departure?

Response: We had the impression from our meeting that the Prime Minister was himself uncertain about the situation and his own personal fate. Of course, we met with Mr. Bakhtiar at a tense time, only a very few hours after the Shah was reported on the radio as having abdicated, abandoning his throne by leaving Iran, seeking asylum. Bakhtiar had a reputation. of being hostile to intrusions of religion in the domain of politics, and had a personal identity strongly influenced by French culture along with its very dogmatic version of secularism. When we met, the city of Tehran was in a kind of frenzied mood, with cars blowing their horns in celebration, and posters of Khomeini appearing everywhere. We had trouble maneuvering through the traffic so as to keep our appointment in the official office of the Prime Minister.

We found Mr. Bakhtiar cautious and non-committal, and possibly intimidated, not by us, of course, but by the dozen or so others in the room who were never introduced, and wore clothes associated I our minds with security personnel. We assumed that at least some of these anonymous individuals were from the SAVAK, and maybe explained partly why Bakhtiar seemed so uncomfortable and nervous while talking with us. When we asked his help in arranging a visit to prisoners confined in Evin Prison, he seemed unsure of his authority to deal with our request until he received guidance from one of the official advisers present in the room. After a short, whispered instruction, the Prime Minister told us that a visit could be arranged on the following day so that we could meet with the political prisoners, but that we would not be allowed to enter the part of the prison reserved for common criminals. We were surprised by this manner of imposing a limitation. We had, if anything expected the opposite, permission to meet with the common criminals but not the political prisoners. After being at the prison, we realized why this distinction has been made. The political prisoners seemed treated reasonably well, possibly because regarded as members of a future ruling elite, while the ordinary criminals held no interest for the governing leadership past or present, and were confined to crowded cells often with no windows. Although we only met with political prisoners, we walked through the prison past the cells holding common criminals, with ample opportunity to note how bad were their living conditions.

Overall, we were left with not much clarity about how Bakhtiar viewed the future of his caretaker government. We had no real opinion on whether what he was saying to us with the others in the room was what they wanted him to say, or expressed his real views, or maybe reflected some sort of compromise. Would he be soon replaced, and his own role challenged as unlawful, or even criminal? We had the impression of a frightened bureaucrat lacking in leadership potential, at least under the prevailing revolutionary conditions. Maybe our impressions were distorted by the reality that our visit took place at such a tense and difficult moment of uncertainty, which soon turned out to be transformative for the country and its people. As a result, my impressions of this sad and entrapped individual may leave too negative a picture of his political character. A day or two earlier or later might have produced a quite different set of impressions.

 

  • What was the Central Intelligence Agency’s assessment of the Iranian revolution’s developments? Did CIA have a lucid exact assessment of the revolutionary forces and Iran’s future political system?

Response: As far as we could tell, we had no direct contact with the CIA, but did meet with the American ambassador to Iran at the time, William Sullivan, who despite being a diplomat had a counterinsurgency background with a militarist reputation. He gave us a briefing that was much more illuminating as to Iranian developments than was our meeting with the Prime Minister a few days earlier. Sullivan acknowledged that the U.S. was caught off guard by both the character and the strength of the movement, and was struggling to keep up with events. He told us that the Embassy had previously constructed no less than 26 scenarios of political developments that might threaten the Shah’s leadership, but not one was concerned about a threat to the established order mounted by an Islamically oriented opposition. The American preoccupation, reflecting Cold War priorities, limited its concerns to containing the Marxist and Soviet-oriented left, and the belief that to the extent there was a political side to Islam it was aligned with the West, sharing its anti-Communist agenda as seemed evident in the setting of the Soviet intervention in Afghanistan.

 

Somewhat to our surprise, Sullivan spoke of his acute frustrations in dealing with the Carter presidency, especially with the National Security Advisor, Zbigniew Brzezinski, who he claimed to be unwilling to accept the finality of the Shah’s loss of power or of the outcome of the revolutionary movement. Sullivan told us that he advocated coming to terms with the emerging new realities as representing America’s national interests, but he spoke very clearly of the resistance to this view at the White House. Sullivan partly attributed this stubbornness to the influence of the Iranian ambassador on. Brzezinski, a view later confirmed to me by frustrated State Department officials.

 

  • What were the issues discussed at a meeting you had in Neauphle-le Chateau with the late Islamic Republic’s founder Ayatollah Khomeini and how would you describe his personality?

 

Response: We met for a long time, maybe three hours, and covered many issues. During the conversation, after some rather long introductions on our sides about our experiences in Iran, we listened and responded to concerns expressed by Ayatollah Khomeini. After that we posed a series of questions. I will mention here a few topics discussed that have a lasting interest.

Ayatollah Khomeini’s initial preoccupation and understandable concern was whether the U.S. Government would try to repeat the intervention of 1953 or would be prepared to live with the outcome of the revolution. Of course, we were not in a position to give anything other than a guess. We did think there was less disposition by the U.S. to intervene than 25 years earlier, given the lingering sense of failure associated with the Vietnamese intervention. At the same time, we realized the strategic importance attached to keeping Iran allied to the U.S. in Cold War contexts and of the personal as well as ideological closeness between Carter and the Shah, especially after the Carter family spent New Year’s Eve in Tehran as the Shah’s guest in 1978, and Carter made his famous toast about the Shah being surrounded by the love of his people.

Ayatollah Khomeini was also concerned about whether the military contracts with the United States would be fulfilled now that there would be a change of government in Iran. This line of questioning gave us a sense that Ayatollah Khomeini had a rather practical turn of mind, and followed rather obscure policy issues closely.

At the same time, this victorious leader volunteered the view that he hoped that soon he would be able to resume his religious life, and explained his intention to take up residence in Qom rather than Tehran, which seemed consistent with such an intention. Ayatollah Khomeini told us that he has reluctantly entered politics because in his words ‘there was a river of blood between the Shah and the people.’

When we asked about his hopes for the revolutionary government, this religious leader made clear that he viewed the revolution as an Islamic rather than an Iranian occurrence, that is, a civilizational rather than a national triumph. He stressed this interpretative perspective, but without any sectarian overtones. He did go on to say that he felt that the basic community for all people in the Islamic world was civilizational and religious, and not national and territorial. Ayatollah Khomeini explained in ways I subsequently heard from others in Iran and elsewhere, that territorial sovereign states built around national identity did not form a natural community in the Middle East the way they did in Europe.

Ayatollah Khomeini also made clear to us that he viewed the Saudi monarchy was as decadent and cruel to the people as was the Shah, and deserved to face the same fate. He felt that dynastic rule had no legitimate role in Islamic societies.

We also asked about the fate of Jews and Bahais in the emergent Islamic Republic of Iran, aware of the close working relationships of these two minorities with the Shah’s governing structure. We found the response significant. He expressed the opinion that Judaism was ‘a genuine religion’ and if Jews do not get wrongly involved in supporting Israel, they would be fine in Iran. His words on this, as I recall them, were ‘Judaism is a genuine religion, and it would be a tragedy for us if they left.’ He viewed Bahais differently because of their worship of a prophet after Mohammad, leading him to adopt the view that Bahais were members of ‘a sect’ and did not belong to ‘a true religion,’ and thus adherents of the Bahai faith would not be welcome in the new Iran. Afterwards, I learned that Ayatollah Khomeini intervened to oppose and prevent genocidal moves being advocated in relation to the Bahai minority living in Iran, but I have no confirmation of this.

 

 

  • What was the last US Ambassador to Iran William Sullivan’s mission? He is known to be an anti-riot man. Did he give any intellectual help to Iran military or SAVAK (the secret police, domestic security and intelligence service in Iran during the reign of the Pahlavi)?

Response: Of course, Sullivan never would tell us about his covert activities, nor did we ask. He had the reputation of being ‘a counterinsurgency diplomat’ as he had served in Laos as an ambassador during the Vietnam War. It was at a time that the embassy was being used to take part in a Laotian internal war that included directing US bombing strikes against rebel forces.

With this knowledge, I was invited to testify in the U.S. Senate to oppose Siullivan’s confirmation a year or so earlier. Unfortunately, my testimony did not prevent him from being confirmed as ambassador to Iran, although several senators at the time indicated to me privately their agreement with my testimony, but were unwilling to oppose President Carter’s choice so early in his presidency. When in Iran I urged the meeting, and Ramsey Clark was skeptical at first, saying that he had had an unpleasant encounter with Sullivan some years earlier. I convinced Ramsey that the credibility of our trip would be compromised if we made no effort to get the viewpoint of the American Embassy. We did make an appointment, Sullivan’s first words as we entered were “I know Professor Falk thinks I am a war criminal..” Yet he welcomed us, and talked openly and at length about the situation and his efforts to get Washington to accept what had happened in Iran. In retrospect, I think he hoped we would be a vehicle for making his views more publicly known.

He made the point that there were no social forces ready to fight to keep the Shah in power. The business community, or national private sector, was alienated by the Shah’s reliance on international capital to fulfill the ambitious state development plans, the so-called ‘White Revolution.’ The armed forces were also not favorable enough to the throne to fight on its behalf, complaining that the Shah’s abiding fear of a coup being mounted against him, created distrust of his own military commanders, and led him to frequently shuffle the leadership in the armed forces. This resulted in a low level of loyalty, and helps explain why the military watched the political transformation take place without showing any pronounced willingness to intervene, despite being nudged toward aggressive action against the movement, especially in the context of a provocative visit by an American NATO general at the height of the revolutionary ferment. The general was widely reported to be exploring whether it was plausible to encourage the Iranian military to defend the established order.

 

We also asked about what would happen to the surviving leaders from the Shah’s government who had been accused of crimes against the Iranian people. Ayatollah Khomeini responded by saying that he expected that what he called ‘Nuremberg Trials’ would be organized to hold accountable leading figures from the fallen government, and some from bureaucratic backgrounds, including SAVAK officials. We wondered why this plan was not later followed, and why those from the Shah’s regime accused were often executed after summary, secret trials. We knew that some of those who had led the revolution had received support from the CIA during their period as students overseas or even when serving as mosque officials, which would be damaging and confusing if made public at a time of transition in the governing process and an accompanying anti-American atmosphere. It is important to remember that until the Islamic Revolution in Iran, Western intelligence assumed that the anti-Marxist approach of those of devout Islamic faith would make all religiously oriented personalities strong allies of Western anti-Communism, a view that persisted to some extent until after the Afghanistan resistance to Soviet intervention which was headed by Islamic forces, and was only decisively shattered by the 9/11 attacks on the World Trade Center and Pentagon in the United States.

 

 

  • Why did the liberal–Islamist groups fail to secure the support of Ayatollah Khomeini at the end of the day?

 

Response: It is difficult for an outsider like myself to comment on the internal politics in such a revolutionary period. The situation in Iran was still fluid, and worries about a counterrevolutionary coup to bring the Shah back to his throne a second time were widespread and understandable. Added to this, the change in Iran came so quickly. Several secular personalities of liberal persuasion told us that ‘the revolution happened too quickly. We were not ready.’

Ayatollah Khomeini while still in Paris, seemed originally to believe that liberal Islamically oriented bureaucrats would be needed to run the government on a day to day basis. He may have envisioned a governing process relying on technical experts, especially to achieve good economic policies and results that he thought necessary to keep the support of the Iranian masses. Such expectations seem to be not entirely consistent with the vison of Islamic Government set forth in his published lectures, available to us in English, that were written while he was living as an exile in Iraq. His insistent theme in that text was to adopt the view that a government consistent with Islamic values could not be reliably established on democratic principles without being subject to unelected religious guidance from top Islamic clerical scholars as the source of highest political authority.

We also were aware of several other explanations for this about face on the governing process. Some in Iran believed that Ayatollah Khomeini only discovered his political popularity after he returned to the country, and this made him believe he had a mandate to impose a system of government that reflected his ideas. Others offered the opinion that he became convinced by his entourage of advisors that the revolutionary spirit and agenda was being lost by the liberals, and hence were urging him to take direct and visible charge of the government to protect the Islamic spirit and substance of the revolutionary movement. And finally, there arose the view that the liberals were given a chance, and their performance disappointed Ayatollah Khomeini, leading him to reenter politics and move to Tehran to lead the country. As far as I know, this story of transition from the Pahlavi Era to the Islamic Republic remains veiled in mystery and controversy. Hopefully, before long the mystery will disappear with the appearance of more authoritative accounts of what transpired after the Ayatollah Khomeini returned to Iran.

What we do know is that what was established in this transition period has survived for more than 40 years despite being faced with threats, provocations, harsh sanctions, and even a variety of covert interventions intending destabilization. Arguably, Iran has been as stable as any country in the region, and more stable than most. This is impressive, although it does not overcome some criticisms directed at violations of basic human rights of people in Iran and its own regional expansionism.

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