Strategic Paradigms by Ehsan Ahrari

There is something imprudent about strategic thinkers when it comes to history.  For some reason, for some of them, it has to come to an end when an idea experiences a temporary—but significant—success.  But when that idea appears to fail, they make an equally rash extrapolation, and start talking about the “return” of history.  Francis Fukuyama became ebullient regarding the “end” of history when the Soviet Union—the archetype of communist totalitarianism—collapsed.  For him, the triumph of liberal democracy in a dialectical sense was an end of history, where no idea emerged as a superior one.  Robert Kagan, in his new book, The Return of History and the End of Dreams, argues that history did not come to end when the Soviet Union imploded or when the Berlin Wall collapsed in 1989.  The triumph of liberal democracy—which then appeared as a shining example of success—proved illusory.  In this sense, he sees a “return” of history.  The end of dreams might be another hasty conclusion regarding the sustained survival of autocratic regimes.

The end of history will be the end of human civilization.  Ideas of all sorts—even the noble ones like liberal democracy, and the pious ones, like all religious beliefs—only underscore the twists and turns of history, its ups and downs, or even its evolution.  However, world historians and strategic thinkers, out of their respective idiosyncrasies or cultural hubris, regard an idea, an ism, or a religion so important that the beginning and the end of the world is interpreted through their upsurges and failures.  The reality is that the success of an idea is just that, its temporary success until another idea comes along  to challenge it.

The end of the Soviet Union did not guarantee the endless triumph of liberal democracy–a Western idea.  To be sure, in terms of human participation and the will of the governed, it was (and remains to be) an idea superior to the non-democratic ones.  However, non-democratic systems prevail in Africa, Central Asia, East Asia, Latin America, and the Middle East.  More important, they are not likely to disappear anytime soon.

Even when democracy emerged as a “victorious” system over the communist totalitarian system at the end of the Cold War, there was no chance that the country that was the worldwide champion of that system—the United States—would have an easy time promoting it. 

The Bush administration did promote democracy in the Middle East in the aftermath of its invasion of Iraq, at a time when the United States was desperately searching for a cause to rationalize the invasion of Iraq, especially when it failed to find weapons of mass destruction.  But that strategy (which was more of a convenient tactic than a strategy) was abandoned in the aftermath of the February 2006 Samarra Mosque bombing.  That dark event led to the “Sunni cleansing” by the Shia militia.  The U.S. occupation officials of Iraq correctly concluded that they had to adopt a strategy promoting heavy participation of Sunni groups in the emerging power structure of Iraq.  At that time, it also became crucial to gain the political support of the Sunni neighbors of Iraq, who were quite concerned not only about the deteriorating political situation in Iraq, but also about the rising tide of clout and influence of Iran in Iraq.  The U.S. and Sunni Arab states had to fall back on the old-style symbiotic politics of the Cold War years, which became highly relevant especially from the U.S. point of view.  Consequently, the preference for democracy was traded in by Washington for the conventional politics of supporting autocratic regimes.  In other words, the conventional politics of giving preference to pragmatism over the principle of promoting democracy reemerged as a driving force. 

As the political situation seems to be improving in Iraq, while it is deteriorating in Afghanistan, the great power relations are becoming important, but not to the extent that is claimed by Robert Kagan.  Kagan is also wrong in suggesting that China and Russia have not become more pragmatic.  But he is right in arguing that the autocratic rulers of those countries “believe in the virtues of a strong central government and disdain the weaknesses of the democratic system.”  In this sense, the great power relations are likely to follow a different path from now on than they did in the past.

The quest for superpowerdom is driving China and Russia.  China has adopted the market-style capitalistic system as its blueprint for emerging as a world-class economic power.  However, it has remained a firm practitioner of totalitarian politics.  The Communist Party of China is least interested in loosening its control of political power, even when the world was visiting China to watch the Olympic Games.  For the rulers of the PRC, their management of the Olympic Games was to become further “proof” of the “superiority” of China’s management system.  It also complements their perception of governance, which is all about management.  For them, a system should be judged on its pragmatic ability to handle large and complex issues and, most important, for its adaptability.  They don’t wish to be bothered by the nuisances related to democracy or the will of the people.  They have invariably preferred stability and have never understood the concept of legitimacy, which is at the heart of democratic governance.

Russia is similarly driven by its aspirations to become a superpower.  Its current preoccupation with de-democratizing itself stems from the fact that it envisages—no matter how wrongly—its post-Soviet romance with democracy as a reason for its loss of superpowerdom.  Its invasion of Georgia is another example—a crude one, but an example nonetheless—of its resolve to shape events to even the dynamics of the balance of power in its immediate neighborhood.

It is possible, as Kagan argues, that China and Russia will return to a liberal democracy someday.  But, if both countries emerge as superpowers in the next decade or so by remaining totalitarian or semi-totalitarian, what other reasons would they have to become a democracy, unless pressured by internal demands?  However, if they can suppress such demands for liberalizing their systems now, why should they reconsider them in the future? 

Where do the Islamists fit into this debate?  Their role in Iraq might have faced a setback for now.  But there is no reason to believe that they have accepted defeat and will fade away in that country.  In Afghanistan, however, the tide of the battle is very much in favor of the Islamists for now.  Any serious victory over them has to include wiping out their power in Pakistan.  However, knowing that reality does not enable either Pakistan or the United States—the chief partisan for stabilizing Pakistan and Afghanistan—to develop a strategy aimed at acquiring a convincing victory over them.  In addition, the rest of the Muslim countries must develop their own respective strategies to fight the Islamists within their borders, co-opt them, reintegrate them, or eradicate them.

These are all twists and turns of history, not its end or its return.  The only constant is the struggle on the part of some countries to rise to the top of the hierarchy of nations, while those at the top strive to stay there by best utilizing the technological and intellectual strides at a given time, and then enabling their institutions and their forces to adapt accordingly.  In this realm, the United States has done quite well.  Now, it seems China promises to do even better.  But that is just an expectation.  It has not yet become an inexorable reality.  In the meantime, history continues to march on.