Engaging

During the class discussion, Prof. Jackson asked, "What do you do with Inayatullah and Blaney's work?" To me, this seems to be the question of the semester. Now that we have made our way through these 'masterworks' of IR, what do we do with them? As we discussed, it's important to reflect on how we will respond to these masterworks in light of the fact that, for the most part, we are going to be moving beyond the bubble of the Academy. Where do Hobbes, Kant, Deutsch, Walzer, Inayatullah , and Blaney fit in "real world" discussions, such as those over the future course of policy in Iraq (other than the token mention of Iraq as the "solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, short" epitome of a Hobbesian state of nature)?

Prof. Jackson's sermon lecture provided an illuminating version of the fractalization of the IR field--that between wissenschaft and politik. For those who fall on the wissenschaft side, the scholars and experts, this class provides a chance to (re-)encounter the foundational works of the discipline of IR, and participate in debates about epistomology, methodology, and of what the field is actually comprised.

For those on the politik side of the spectrum, the scholar-activists and practitioners, this class and these works should foundationally inform how they practice international relations. As Monica said during the class discussion, though the politik folks (of whom I am admittedly one) don't spend a lot of time interacting with this material, it is important to encounter it so that one's practice may be better informed*--so that they "remember" these perennial issues. (This is true for the wissenschaft folks, too, but their placement on the wissenschaft side makes them more concerned with science)

For me, this class was about engagement. Engagement with exceedingly bright people on exceedingly important issues. Engagement with the history of IR as a discipline, what that means, and what that will, potentially, mean. Engagement with questions of epistomology and normative claims. And, most prominently, engagement with the material we were studying on my own terms. It has been an engaging pleasure.

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*One is tempted to make the normative claim that a politik-focused person's practice would indeed be better for having encountered these Masterworks, but Inayatullah and Blaney would question that claim. This, I think, is one of the most useful parts of Inayatullah and Blaney.

Difference

Naeem Inayatullah and David Blaney argue very persuasively that IR needs to address, rather than continue to defer, the problem of difference. What has perhaps struck me most is the way they ground the problem in some of the debates (read: wars) that took place in pre-Westphalia Europe--mainly those surrounding Christianity. That there were, according to the authors, multiple layers of the problem of difference (ie. horizontal, vertical, between continents, within theological schools) is fascinating.

I am a bit ashamed to say that I hadn't really thought of religion through the lens of difference before, but it makes a lot of sense. In the three Abrahamic religions, the notion of difference is central, both to understanding religious practice and, most importantly, to understanding the notion of salvation. There are Jews and Gentiles. There are Christians and non-Christians. There is Dar al-Islam and Dar al-Harb. The 'problem' of difference is inherent in these religions as currently and historically understood, and being 'different' from the norm carries dire eternal consequences.

Also interesting is that the Abrahamic faiths exhibit what could be viewed as a "vertical" difference. Muslims believe that Muhammad received the final, most complete revelation of God's message, built on (most of) the revelations of Judaism and Christianity. Christians believe that God has been more fully revealed in Jesus, augmenting the knowledge of God provided by the Old Testament. There is, depending upon where one is placed, a very definite notion of 'progress' from Judaism to Christianity to Islam, though not all things are kept as the faith 'progresses'.

There is also, as the authors reference with regard to the splits within Calvinism (pp. 73-80), the notion of difference within religions. This is perhaps what is most disheartening about The Thirty Years' War and all subsequent violent action between Catholics and Protestants--they both descend from the Christian faith. They both ostensibly believe that Jesus is the Son of God, sent to Earth to take away the sins of all those who would believe by Grace. Without getting into bits of theological minutiae, I would argue that internal difference within Christianity , though bellicose actions would seem to betray my argument, are much less eternally significant, to Christians, than inside/outside difference. The same could be said of the internal difference within Islam between Sunnis and Shi'a, playing itself out so horrifically in Iraq. I understand that there are differences of practice, theology, and so on, but it is extremely disheartening to see internal difference take on such a violent character.*

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*This is not to say that violence based on inside/outside difference is any better, it just seems more understandable, if I may use that word, than violence based on internal difference.

Walzer post-class

Just and Unjust Wars is, in a lot of ways, a tough nut to crack. As we discussed in class on Thursday, one can't really argue against it, there's sparse use of formal logic, and Walzer basically says, "if you disagree, well then maybe this book isn't for you--we live in different worlds." It was much easier to digest authors like Rousseau and Kant who used foundational considerations of reason as defense for their argument. As Jesse points out, Walzer's sometimes feels like a "because I said so" kind of argument.

It's a little bit disconcerting to read on p. 107 that "Humanitarian intervention is justified when it is a response (with reasonable expectations of success) to acts 'that shock the moral conscience of mankind,'" wonder what precisely is meant by "reasonable expectations of success" and "shock the moral conscience" and "mankind," and realize that Walzer is pretty okay with the ambiguity of those notions. This infuriates part of me--I think it's important to know what those things mean in order to set up parameters for how war is to be justly begun and executed. Though Hobbes presents, in some ways, a much less palatable argument, one is much more clear about (most of) his definitional notions.

Similarly, if Walzer and those who would want to argue with him are simply talking past each other, why is this book so popular that it is in its 4th edition (printed in Aug '06 with new discussions about the Iraq War)? I would argue that, as we discussed in class, Walzer is touching on something perennial, and that there's still a 'gut feeling' that Walzer is on to something. I was approached by a half-dozen separate people on the Metro while reading this book. All seemed to think that discussions of just and unjust war were important. Even though some of the argumentation techniques employed are similar (albeit much more effective) to those found in some political tracts, one finds it more palatable because there is a need for this kind of thinking (about jus ad bellum and jus in bello) in modern debates (as opposed to some of the nonsense that is printed in the name of 'sound political debate').

Ultimately, I think, it comes down to that 'gut feeling' that Walzer has, specific qualms aside, made a pretty decent point.


N.B. - Christine makes a good point about the absence of talk about jus post bellum.

Walzer pre-class

In light of the perennial contemporary debate over the 2003 invasion of Iraq by the U.S. military, chapters 5 & 6 (on anticipation and intervention respectively) provide for interesting reflection.

The first thing that strikes me is Walzer's distinction between prevention and pre-emption (see also: Gaddis, Surprise, Security, and the American Experience (2004)). For Walzer, the difference lies in the imminence of an enemy's capability to attack and disrupt--preventive wars are fought to prevent a state from achieving the capabilities to attack in the future, pre-emptive wars are fought to disrupt an imminent attack. He argues (p. 80) that 'merely' preventive wars are unjustified, but that pre-emptive wars might be (depending on how "sufficient" the threat is [p. 81]).

So the question then becomes, "How do we characterize the 2003 invasion--as a preventive or pre-emptive war?" Most people/practitioners/scholars (Walzer included) would likely argue that it was preventive--Iraq didn't have imminent attack capabilities. The Bush administration argued, and still does/would, that the threat was much more imminent, and that it was thus a pre-emptive strike. The administration would argue that Iraq fit into Walzer's three criteria that satisfy a "sufficient threat,", namely "a manifest intent to injure, a degree of active preparation that makes that intent a positive danger, and a general situation in which waiting, or doing anything other than fighting, greatly magnifies the risk" (81).

What is particularly interesting to me is that, over the course of the three-year U.S. occupation [sic] of Iraq, and particularly in light of the fact that no WMD have been found, the Bush administration's primary justification for the invasion has shifted from pre-emption to intervention. The (nearly exclusive) line now is, "We needed to intervene to dethrone that horrible tyrant and establish democracy in Iraq." They are arguing on humanitarian intervention grounds. This is largely in line, at least to the administration's mind, with Walzer's notion that "humanitarian intervention is justified when it is a response (with reasonable expectations of success) to acts "that shock the moral conscience of mankind" (107). The Bush administration painted (and still paints) Saddam's regime as one that fit this description to a tee, and therefore was completely morally justified. Others, again, have disagreed.

It is somewhat frustrating that Walzer's 'definitions' leave room for both sides of the Iraq debate--that the administration can (in their mind) be fully justified in both anticipation and intervention while the administration critics say exactly the opposite. Part of the problem with Walzer is that, since he doesn't address foundations of morality and epistomology, it is hard to know who has the definitive word on what is/isn't a just war (cf. Dresden, fire bombing of).

H. Bull Reflection

As Christine , Elisabeth and Jesse have already spent quite a bit of time digesting the 'order v. justice' problem (and making quite lucid arguments), I figured I'd venture to a different part of our Thursday night discussion: whether or not there can be multiple international societies within an international system, and how we might recognize an international society.

First, it is helpful to recall Bull's definition of an international society (or society of states). From page 13:

A society of states (or international society) exists when a group of states, conscious of certain common interests and common values, form a society in the sense that they conceive themselves to be bound by a common set of rules in their relations with one another, and share in the working of of common institutions.

A problem, as uncovered in the class discussion, is that Bull doesn't specify whether this definition only allows for one over-arching international society or multiple international societies, and whether a state can belong to more than one international society. It seems to me, much like Monica and Christine, that the definition does allow for multiple international societies. Theoretically (and in practice) there are multiple 'groups of states' who 'conceive themselves bound by a common set of rules' and 'share in the working of common institutions.' One need not look beyond NAFTA and the EU to find two such examples of 'international society' as conceived by Bull.

Bull seems to argue toward the end (starting on p.294) that regional organizations are part of reforming the international system--that they would be separate from international society. To my mind, though, he doesn't really establish a rock-solid argument differentiating regional organizations from international societies.

So, if there are multiple international societies, could states belong to more than one international society? I would say yes, primarily because the UN is an international society par excellence, and the US, for example, is part of NAFTA and the UN. It seems to make sense that there are more limited international societies (eg. EU, NAFTA, ASEAN) and 'macro' international societies (eg. UN, WTO), and that states can be part of multiple international societies. Though this also begs the question of when a bunch of more limited international societies form a de facto 'macro' international society.

As an unrelated aside, I think in class Christine expressed what is perhaps the primary frustration for all of us with Bull's 'order v. justice' discussion: he leaves so much un-touched-upon, and seems to throw the chapter in to in some ways pay lip service to a criticism that was likely to arise. It is really too bad that he didn't live to write the corollary to this volume.

H. Bull - Pre-Class

In lieu of assessing the overall efficacy of Bull's work today, I'd like to look at his notion of great powers.

Bull argues at the beginning of Ch. 9 that the notion of great powers implies 1) "that there are two or more powers that are comparable in status," 2) "that members of this [great powers] club are all in front rank in terms of military strength," and 3) that "great powers are powers recognized by others to have, and conceived by their own leaders and peoples to have, certain special rights and duties (194-196). In light of these criteria, he singles out the US, the USSR and (mostly) China as the great powers of the day.

A disagreement I have with his criteria is that a state's economic strength (or weight) (or lack thereof) seems to be missing as a descriptive criterion. Though one could argue over whether military or economic strength means more to a state's standing in the international society, the latter is most definitely an important factor. I suppose the counterargument to my disagreement could be that 'front rank in terms of military strength' implies a strong economy (or great economic weight)--a state could hardly have a strong military if it did not also have a strong/weighty economy. But this leaves out states like Japan and new entities like the EU. If not for its vibrant economic growth of the second half of the 20th Century, Japan would rarely be considered even a candidate for the mantel of great power. Why does Bull leave this out?

One must also, in 2006, assess whether the notion of great powers is still valid. The US seems, to me, to be a hyperpower among the great powers of the EU, Japan, China, Russia(?) and, ever-increasingly, India. But here, again, one runs into the problem of Bull's criteria. I don't think the EU and Japan would make the cut today by Bull's standards.

A side note:
It is interesting to read Bull's musings about the diminution of the 'diplomatist' skill among diplomats in light of the fact that some ambassadorial posts are payola posts posts that require less of a diplomatist's acumen.

Deutsch - post-class

One question in particular has been rattling about since our class discussion. The answer is not fully formed, yet, but we'll see where we end up.

Can economic agreements between nations be considered de facto security communities?

Perhaps I’m venturing too far toward the ‘non-Deutschian’ understanding of integration, but I think this merits some thought. In light of the recent APEC summit, I wonder if economic agreements between nations can be considered de facto (pluralistic, to be sure) security communities. There is a measure of Deutschian integration in economic agreements such as NAFTA, APEC and Mercosur. One can reasonably assume that the institutions and practices (and incentives for 'peaceful change') are strong enough to last for a "long" time. There is a mutual understanding that a nation is better off economically engaging other nations peacefully, rather than engaging other nations in war.

For Deutsch, the three essential characteristics of a pluralistic security community (in addition to the primary characteristics found on p.5) are 1)compatibility of major values, 2) capacity for responsiveness and 3) mutual predictability of behavior (66-67). This, to my mind, is where one could say that some economic agreements between nations can be considered de facto, while others can not. ASEAN, NAFTA and Mercosur fulfill (at least loosely) all three "essential" characteristics, and thus would qualify. The WTO and APEC, for example, exhibit the 2nd and 3rd characteristic in some measure, but there is bound to be divergence on "major values." Economic agreements between nations of this type would not, to my mind, qualify as a de facto security communities.

So what would move a security community from de facto to de jure? Would it be an additional military component to the already existing economic component? Would it be a sufficiently "long" time? Separately, would those agreements that don't exhibit a "compatibility of major values" ever be considered de facto security communities?

Looking at the post now it doesn't seem terribly profound, but it got me thinking. Again, perhaps I'm moving away from a Deutschian understanding of integration, but it seems to make sense to me. Thoughts?