The Great Delusion

Like the book I reviewed in the last issue about Julian Assange, this was recommended by Alfred de Zayas during his talk on a just world order. The author is Professor of Political Science at the University of Chicago, and this is essential reading in order to understand the principles operating in geopolitical relationships, especially those relating to the dynamics between liberalism, nationalism and realism. More broadly, he sets out to explain the failures of US foreign policy since 1989, especially the disastrous and costly interventions in the Middle East and with respect to Russia, to which I will return below. His basic argument addresses the flaws of ‘liberal hegemony’, a strategy ‘to turn as many countries as possible into liberal democracies while also fostering an open international economy and building formidable international institutions.’ Following the collapse of the Soviet Union and the emergence of a unipolar US, it sought to remake the world in its own image.

Liberal hegemony turns out to be an impossible dream given the powerful influences of nationalism and realism, where states seek self-determination and to maximise their own security. Mearsheimer also distinguishes two forms of liberalism: modus vivendi liberalism based on laissez-faire and progressive liberalism committed to an interventionist state. Both prize the concept of inalienable or natural rights, which they seek to extend to every individual on the planet. Unfortunately, this logic ‘leads straight to an active policy of regime change, where the goal is to topple autocrats and put liberal democracies in their place.’ This has indeed been a driver of US foreign policy, but covert CIA operations have also been implemented to support dictators where US economic interests are at stake – see my review of John Perkins in this issue. However, states of emergency since 9/11 have also been used to curtail liberal rights domestically, starting with the Patriot Act. As we have also seen in the Covid pandemic, people are willing to trade freedom for safety. The disconcerting lesson of this book is that ‘a liberal foreign policy is not a formula for cooperation and peace but for instability and conflict.’ (p. 5)

The author emphasises the centrality of our human nature as social beings, which is recognised by nationalism (with its sense of belonging) and realism (with its emphasis on the nation-state), but not by liberalism with its primary value based on individualism. He sees liberalism as a force for good in domestic terms, but not in international arena. The next two chapters are devoted to a more extensive discussion of human nature, the varieties of political liberalism, and in particular the rise of progressive liberalism and idealism based on occupying the high moral ground – a perilous and ultimately hypocritical position. The cracks in the liberal edifice show up in the influence of nationalism and aspirations towards self-determination where the essence of nationhood is psychological and contains a number of core features (p. 94). Nations want states, and states want nations, as he explains with the emergence of nation-states from regional regimes, all of which has scaled up military capacity, violence and war.

‘Liberalism Goes Abroad’ is the heart of the argument. Since the liberal outlook is universal in terms of human rights, this means that foreign policy ‘requires careful monitoring of other countries’ human rights performance’ – US relationships with China are a (legitimate in my view) case in point, but where arms are concerned as in Saudi Arabia, the issue is quietly set aside. The elite-driven Project for a New American Century (PNAC) from the late 1990s envisaged continuing unipolar US dominance during the 21^st century, which is manifestly no longer feasible. The current stand-off in Taiwan is partly an unwillingness on the part of the US to accept other forms of political order and multipolar world, and the Chinese regard this as domestic interference. Every state has a primary drive to survive in an anarchic world where strategy embodies fear of the other and worst-case scenarios. More generally, what James Scott calls ‘great utopian social engineering schemes’ are liable to go seriously awry. For Mearsheimer – and I am ultimately persuaded by his argument in spite of my liberal leanings – realism in terms of balance of power seems to be a more stable way forward.

One theme of particular relevance to the current war in Ukraine is the author’s discussion of US relations with Russia where the chaos of the 1990s led to the restoration of authoritarian order under Putin. The book was published in 2018, but it contains a detailed analysis of the 2014 coup in Ukraine, ‘which the Americans helped facilitate and which toppled a pro-Russian leader, precipitating a major crisis between Moscow and the West.’ (p. 142) Washington vigorously promoted the colour revolutions in Georgia and Ukraine ‘in the hope of turning them into liberal democracies’ (p. 163) without regard to their great strategic importance to Moscow, as has been pointed out by a number of recent commentators who question the simple demonising of Putin in view of the historical background.

I agree with the author and that ‘taproot of the trouble is NATO expansion, the central element in a larger strategy to move all of Eastern Europe, including Ukraine, out of Russia’s orbit and integrate it into the West.’ (p. 172) This is a textbook example of liberal hegemony, and I think that the prolongation of the war where Putin was at least in part provoked (troops and arms were in place by September 2019), serves the ultimate strategic aim of undermining and weakening Russia. Significantly, arch-realist Henry Kissinger has said that the long-term danger is to the balance of regional power. The ‘liberal blinders’ ignoring the threat Russia felt to its core strategic interests continued to operate, and now we find ourselves in a far worse and intractable situation, anticipated by veteran Secretary of State George Kennan when NATO expansion was first mooted in 1998.

The last chapter makes a realist case for foreign policy restraint, which would involve a radical recalibration and will certainly be resisted by the foreign policy elite in Washington. The author advocates a defensive realism, and has no illusions that this is a recipe for peace, but rather it would put an end to the disastrous interventions of liberal hegemony with its raft of unintended consequences. The Cold War domino theory assumed that a universalist ideology like Marxism ‘would dominate local identities and desire for self-determination. They do not. Proponents of the domino theory failed to understand that nationalism is a far more powerful ideology than communism, just as it is far more powerful than the liberalism.’ (p. 225) The Chinese have been talking about multipolar world for some time, which is manifestly now the case. Liberal hegemony has not turned out to be in the US national interest, and its foreign wars have cost in excess of $5 trillion, money which could have been used for other domestic purposes. Altogether, this highly acclaimed book provides a trenchant analysis and bold argument that has to be taken with the utmost seriousness and deserves to be widely read.