Posts Tagged ‘Foreign Policy’
Effective policy-making begins by accurately assessing adversaries. Americans have a tendency to assume that their opponents are either pathetic pip-squeaks, ranting like irrational madmen, or enormous evil-doers, bent on Hitler-like world domination. Russian President Vladimir Putin fits neither of these character types. The pattern of Russian regional aggression, dating back to Moscow’s invasion of the Georgian Republic in 2008 (when George W. Bush was still president), reveals a different kind of adversary.
Fascism: History and Present
Putin is an early twentieth century fascist, ruling a twenty-first century country that possesses middling international power, but still maintains aspirations to greatness and deep-seated resentments against the societies, especially the United States and the European Union, that are allegedly keeping it down. Putin is ruthlessly realistic. He recognizes that he cannot challenge the United States across the globe. He seeks, instead, to assert Russian power by beating up on weak neighboring societies, thumbing his nose at the foreigners who criticize his actions, and mobilizing his own suffering citizens with the promise of national strength. He used the Sochi Summer Olympics this year to display Russian physical prowess, just as he uses the annexation of Crimea and intervention in Eastern Ukraine to assert that Russians are superior among the other Slavs. The bombast, muscle-flexing, and aggression are designed to manifest Russian ethnic and cultural rejuvenation after decades of decline and humiliation. Putin promotes nearby aggression to redeem Russian politics; he defines the authenticity and greatness of his nation by its ability to bring violence on lesser peoples.
The best historical analogy for Putin is neither Adolf Hitler nor Joseph Stalin. The Russian president does not have the messianic world conquering vision of the German Führer, and he does not possess the universalistic ideology of his Russian predecessor. Putin is more of a “classical” fascist, on the model of Benito Mussolini in early twentieth century Italy or Francisco Franco, who ruled Spain after the country’s bloody civil war. Mussolini and Franco built their dictatorships on the promise of greatness, the display of force, and the myth of a savior figure who would carry a fallen people back to the top of the international pyramid of power. They asserted near total control over their societies for the purpose of bringing total transformation. Most of all, they exploited opportunities for attacking vulnerable citizens (especially Jews) and weaker neighbors (especially in North Africa.) Conspicuous assertions of Italian and Spanish physical superiority served to galvanize followers and generate apparent greatness.
Fascism has come to Russia because of current international conditions, echoing many of the circumstances in the 1920s and 1930s. The gap between the “haves” and “have-nots” in the world has grown, and many Russians feel unfairly deprived and disrespected. The allure of democracy has faded due to the evidence of ineffectiveness, stalemate, and corruption within many of its chief exponents, including the United States. Perhaps most significant, the many lingering wars and conflicts of the last decade have brutalized the image of politics in Russia and other societies. If violence and related forms of coercion are acceptable elsewhere, why shouldn’t Russians use the same behaviors in areas close to home? When Americans and Europeans reject this claim on grounds of international law and human rights, Russians point to the hypocrisy of recent interventions in Iraq, Libya, and Afghanistan. Their argument about Western inconsistency has some merit.
The history of fascism in Italy and Spain, and now in Russia, offers some helpful guidance in considering American and European responses to Putin’s military meddling. First, Putin’s domestic legitimacy is deeply connected to his international aggression. We should not expect him to back down or change course anytime soon. We should anticipate more acts of intervention in the region around Russia.
From this observation follows a second expectation. Putin’s popularity, like that of other fascists, will remain strong at home as long as he can show “victories” in bullying opponents, dominating neighbors, and standing up against foreign opponents. His domestic power will grow as he defiantly flaunts loud international condemnation. Economic sanctions will hurt the Russian economy, and its citizens, but Putin will rally his population around his conspicuous displays of physical courage and national strength.
The third and most important historical insight is that this fascist aggression will only cease when it confronts firm external resistance. Fascists are opportunistic bullies who will turn away from fights they cannot win. They enjoy their positions of power too much to risk losing everything. Hitler is the exception to this historical analysis, of course, and we should recognize that he is not a guide for thinking about Putin or most other dictators.
How, then, should Americans and Europeans encourage external resistance to Putin’s fascism? For sound reasons, citizens in the United States and the European Union are not prepared to go to war with Russia over Ukraine. Americans and West Europeans held to a similar position during the Cold War, when the Soviet Union dominated Eastern Europe. What worked in the Cold War, and what is feasible today, is a policy of forceful containment in this region. That involves increasing the readiness of the Western alliance (the North Atlantic Treaty Organization) to combat Russian military moves. It also requires the aiding and arming of local forces in Ukraine, Georgia, and other states most vulnerable to Russian attack.
The United States and its European allies must do everything they can to create native fighting forces that can resist Russian aggression. Although local armies might not be able to defeat Russian soldiers immediately, they can raise the human and financial costs for Russia. They can make the bully in Moscow consider the risks of extended warfare on his borders, rather than the quick interventions and land grabs that he obviously prefers.
Containing Russian fascism is not ideal. It will contribute to a further militarization of the region around Russia. It requires working relationships with many less-than-democratic groups that oppose Putin. It cannot reverse recent Russian gains, at least not immediately. Containment, nonetheless, offers a strategy that plainly recognizes the nature of our fascist adversary, diminishes his aggressive opportunities, and allows for effective American and European action that is sustainable in the current political environment. Containment is a credible way of combating fascism in Russia today. Leaders in Washington, Berlin, Paris, and London should coordinate their efforts behind this strategy, and they should start soon.
This blog post originally appeared at http://globalbrief.ca
Today I had the opportunity to visit the site of the first atomic bombing, Hiroshima, and participate in the annual commemoration. Events began at 8:15am this morning, sixty-eight years after the world entered the atomic age. I have written and taught about the atomic bomb for more than a decade, but I never really understood the meaning of this powerful weapon until today. Everyone who thinks about international security, foreign policy, and nuclear issues should visit Hiroshima on August 6.
Numerous scholars have written excellent books about the American decision to drop the first atomic bomb in Hiroshima, the effects of the bomb on the ground, the geopolitical consequences, the distorted memories of the event, and the uses of Hiroshima for political purpose. The permanent museum in Hiroshima addresses these issues in a partial and often biased way, but that is to be expected.
The museum, the haunting Atomic Dome, and the Peace Park are not the things that moved me at the commemoration today. Nor did the speeches by the visiting dignitaries, including Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, accomplish very much. Standard words about “suffering victims” and the “imperative for peace” did not have much effect.
What moved me was the assembly of young Japanese and Americans this evening around the site of the atomic blast. I have been to many demonstrations, but I have never seen anything like this before. Thousands of men and women below forty (I am on the borderline) decorated candles, made paper lanterns, and played music that evoked a shared hope for peace. There were no political slogans, no efforts to assign blame, no calls for easy answers. This was just a moment of supreme and sincere solidarity.
It was also a moment of deep Japanese and American friendship. The Peace Park was filled with Americans: students, military servicepeople, businesspeople, tourists, and parents. I have not seen so many Americans in Japan before. They walked side-by-side with Japanese they had never previously met, engaged in friendly but serious conversation, reflecting on the meaning of this moment.
None of this was organized or contrived. The young Americans and Japanese came to remember the tragedy of August 6. They enacted a common bond. The young Americans and Japanese also assembled to imagine a better future. They advocated a shared mission.
Again, there were no simple slogans or efforts to assign blame. There were no pretensions to easy answers. This was a moment of aspiration, an unscripted cross-cultural performance of young people who recognized the tragic history in Hiroshima and wanted to make it real for themselves. They made it real by transcending, at least for a moment, the angry arguments of politicians, pundits, and scholars.
The men and women who visited the atomic bomb site tonight took clear inspiration from a monumental tragedy to find new ways to come together. They modeled dialogue, civility, forgiveness, and cooperation because of what happened here sixty-eight years ago. They made a very dark history into a forward-looking light of hope. You could see it on their faces: solemn and hopeful, cautious and confident.
The time has come for historians, including this one, to re-write our histories of the atomic bomb. Here is what I will say the next time I lecture on this topic: On 6 August 1945 the United States dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima, in hopes of ending the Second World War. The bomb caused enormous damage and suffering and it contributed to a Cold War. The experiences of the bomb, in both Japan and the United States, also brought these two warring societies together in startling, unpredictable, and enduring ways. The strength and depth of Japanese-American friendship since 1945 is a testament to how human beings can turn the worst weapons into catalysts for common action.
Contemporary leaders can learn a lot from this final insight. It was on display tonight, amidst all the partisan division in both Japan and the United States. Sometimes the best policy insights come from those who are concerned about the past, but not stuck in it.
This blog post originally appeared at http://globalbrief.ca