IR & Theory
The elite know the theories
Unlike my British friend’s son, it is unquestionably true that national leaders and their foreign policy advisors, as well as scholars, academics, and analysts in the field, are quite conscious of their own theories and those of others. “For over 2000 years,” writes Robert Keohane, professor of international affairs at Princeton University, “thinkers have sought to understand, more or less systematically, the most basic questions of world politics: the sources of discord and of war and the conditions of cooperation and of peace.” (Keohane, “Realism, Neorealism and the Study of Word Politics,” in Keohane, ed., Neorealism and Its Critics, 1986, p. 3.)
No one can cope with the complexities of world politics without the aid of a theory
The choice for practitioners, Keohane concludes, is not between being influenced by a theory or examining each case on its merits. Instead, it is “between being aware of the theoretical basis for one’s interpretation and actions, and being unaware of it…. No one can cope with the complexities of world politics without the aid of a theory or of implicit assumptions and propositions that substitute, however poorly, for a theory.” (Keohane, “Realism, Neorealism,” in Neorealism, p. 4.)
The non-experts usually do not
But quite like my British friend’s son, most non-experts are relying on theories that they are not conscious of, for interpreting, for instance, U.S. – Mideast relations. For most non-experts, one’s theoretical understanding is chiefly hidden, or intuitive. It would be difficult to express consciously if one were put on the spot and asked to articulate it.
Usually this is because the model was picked up piecemeal, slowly and without much if any conscious thought about it over time. It wasn’t something learned as a classroom subject. Much of it is simply absorbed in bits and bobs from childhood and adolescence – from parents, grandparents, older brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, friends parents, religious figures, political leaders, and other significant others.
So an American adult who had been raised in hard-nosed fundamentalist Christian ethos in the Bible Belt would most likely say that any U.S. policy that promotes a two-state solution between Israel and the Palestinians is “unbiblical.” But the passenger sitting near him on the plane who was raised in Chicago in a family of agnostics might endorse a two-state solution. If, however, the passenger sitting between them, being puzzled at the two conflicting views, asked her traveling companions what the bases of their views were, they might have a hard time articulating that in any methodical way. This is not to slight the two flyers. I’m sure they were both patriotic citizens. It is merely to note that their views derive from theoretical understandings that are in all likelihood hidden from them and never been consciously considered by them in any methodical way.
Theories, then, are essential not only for the foreign policy professional but for anyone seeking greater clarity about Western-Middle East relations. Without at least some knowledge of prominent international relations theories, we will find ourselves as baffled as the person trying to assemble a complicated 5,000-piece jigsaw puzzle without reference to the picture on the cover of the box.
But theories don’t make choices
There are, of course, limits and downsides to conceptual understandings. For one thing, theories don’t make decisions. People make decisions. And though people like to be consistent, sometimes they are not. A national leader and his administration may at times act inconsistent with their preferred political theory.
When he was President of the United States (1976-1980), Jimmy Carter leaned on a humanitarian model of international relations that gave primacy to human rights. This was quite a different approach than the realist foreign policy that President Richard Nixon and his Secretary of State Henry Kissinger had put together (1968-1974). When Carter’s foreign policy was partnered with his evangelical faith – a faith, by the way, that did not hinder Carter from seeking agreements based on common ground with leaders of states who held to different faiths – it produced the kind of diplomacy that helped secure the remarkably durable peace treaty between Egypt and Israel (1978).
But it had its limits. Success was not guaranteed in every situation. Carter found himself frustrated by Soviet expansionism, but more than that, although his foreign policy model had proved its wisdom even through a geopolitical acid test (the final grueling stages of negotiating the Israel-Egypt peace treaty), it failed stunningly during the American hostage crisis with Iran (November 1979 – January 1981). During that crisis, Carter implemented a policy against the grain of his humanitarian model. He risked starting a war with Iran by authorizing a perilous and long-shot rescue operation (it failed) to free the hostages from the American embassy in Tehran.
Leaders and experts may change their theories
Political leaders and even theorists themselves may change, or they may opt for a different model if, say, the theory they adhered to loses its street cred. One noteworthy example of this occurred with a small but consequential group of Cold War liberal Democrats who, by the late-1960s and early-1970s, had concluded that Washington’s Democrat foreign policy was much too soft toward Soviet expansionism (see Realism and Idealism). For years they tried to reform it while calling for various kinds of military interventions against Soviet expansion. That failed, and by 1980 they had made a complete break with the Democrat party. Many became Republicans and drifted into President Ronald Reagan’s camp, seeing in Reagan a leader they thought would bring U.S. policy around to their militaristic approach to the Soviets. That, of course, never happened, but in the process this small group became known as the neoconservatives. (See: John Ehrman, The Rise of Neoconservatism; Stefan Halper & Jonathan Clarke, America Alone; Murray Friedman, The Neoconservative Revolution.)
Properly understood, however, theory making and its use is merely meant to be a tool for one’s understanding
Former neoconservative intellectual Francis Fukuyama is another example. The neoconservative argument for regime change in Iraq had become so well-honed during the 1990s that it was formally presented to the Clinton White House on January 26, 1998, where it was cooly received. By then, however, neoconservatives, having spent inordinate sums of money and political capital, had become a prominent ideology promoted in think tanks, journals, and in university classrooms. This paid off for them, big time, with the inclusion of neoconservative thinkers as top-level advisors in the George W. Bush administration. Their way of reasoning about the Middle East became an organizing principle governing the decision of the Bush White House to invade Iraq after 9/11.
However, after the U.S. success at removing Saddam Hussein from power (in 2003) turned into the counter-narrative of a worst-of-all-possible-worlds situation, Fukuyama, one of several neoconservatives who had signed the January 28 formal proposal to President Clinton, began seriously questioning neoconservatism. He eventually left the fold after being continually rebuffed by neoconservative hardliners for suggesting a wiser way ahead. As he explained to me in 2006, “Even though I continue to agree with them on some issues, I don’t feel like I’m in their camp any more” (personal correspondence, July 31, 2006; see also his book America at a Crossroads.)
Presidents, prime ministers, and their foreign policy advisors may also combine elements of different models, often for reasons of sheer pragmatism. I consider George W. Bush to be a significant example of having done this, which I will explain in the article Realism and Idealism.
Theories are inexact and limited
Political theories are an inexact science. “International politics involves so many variables,” writes Joseph Nye, for there are “so many changes occurring at the same time that events are overdetermined – there are too many causes.” (Nye, Understanding International Conflicts: An Introduction to Theory and History, 2007, p. 51.) Nye, an international relations theorist, is hinting at the fact that no theory is comprehensive enough to provide an exhaustive analysis, whether interpretive or predictive, of all that will play out in relations among the nations who are the subject of, or subject to, a particular foreign policy decision. In other words, theory is not life. Life can overwhelm theoretical models and show us their inadequacies. I suspect this was a reason why Fukuyama became disillusioned with his neoconservative colleagues.
Two other situations come quickly to mind, the collapse of the Soviet Empire and 9/11. Neither realists, nor idealists or neoconservatives had expected, let alone predicted, the collapse, which began in late-1989 and was completed in late-1991. Contingency planning for the end of the Soviet Empire, especially a peaceful end, was never a realistic enough issue, at least not during the 1980s. This meant that the first President Bush and his team of realist advisors had to make U.S. policy for it on the fly. The same is true with 9/11 and the second President Bush’s policy responses to it.
Both surprise events deeply challenged perennial international relations theory and practice. Long-standing orientations of foreign policy were disoriented overnight, forcing leaders, analysts, and policy-makers long and necessary processes of reorientation. At all times, then, the difference should be kept in mind between international relations as they are and the ways we see them, our conceptual understandings of them.
Yet we need our abstractions
None of this is to suggest that we don’t need our abstractions. We do. Indeed, it is part of what makes us human, and we would never want to be without the ability to think abstractly. Properly understood, however, theory making and its use is merely meant to be a tool for one’s understanding, whether of a political or religious ideology, or a school of philosophy, psychology, or theology, and so on. In politics this is a necessary tool because a political party bases its platform on an ideology, which sets that party’s agenda for education, health care, the economy, the environment, and so on, including its foreign policy.
Serious issues and problems arise, however, if not violence or war, when ideological interests are absolutized and acted on. When ideologies take on a life of their own, they can control leaders and dehumanize them. Policies may then be enacted that will crush the life out of the nonconformists. As political scientist David Koyzis puts it, when an ideology attempts “to offer a total explanation for the world and its history,” it is “a short step from ideology to totalitarianism,” which seeks to “mold the world in accordance with its inexorable logic.” (Koyzis, Political Visions and illusions: A Survey & Christian Critique of Contemporary Ideologies, 2003, p. 20.)
When all is said and done, it is wisest to ensure that theory is kept in its proper place, as a tool for our thinking. As one wit has said, it is best to think of ideology in terms of strong liquor – harmless in small amounts but dangerous in large.
Conclusion
Despite the above cautions, political theories remain pivotal in international relations and world politics. Theories give leaders of every nation conceptual environments and vocabularies necessary for meaningful discussions about the kind of policy that makes the most sense for a particular situation. I believe, however, that the misuse of political ideologies clouds the perception necessary for developing and applying wisdom-based approaches to foreign policy analysis and decision making.
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