Showing posts with label Realpolitik. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Realpolitik. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 2, 2019

Power and Strength

A long time ago, when I was still in the Army, I got to talking with some of my fellow officers, and we soon wound up discussing terrorism. Someone claimed that the Russians were extremely tough on terrorists, that (for example) if you commit a terrorist act they will go after you and your entire family.

I have absolutely no idea if this is true or not, but I brought it up because it captures certain... how should I put it?

Beliefs?

Misconceptions?

Glamorizations?

There's numerous subtext going on here, and some of the subtext has been going on for a looooong time.

There's the belief that brute force is a sign of strength, that we're too 'soft', 'effeminate', etc... and so there's a bit of admiration there, for those hard-a$$es willing to brutally harm entire families in pursuit of their goals. (I said this has been going on for a long time, 'cause I remember reading something on Roman history, and this perception that they were growing 'soft' and 'weak', and it was strange to realization the whole notion of that civilization weakens men has been around for a very long time. Ummm, that's not how it's really put, but I can't remember the exact wording right now and I don't want to stop writing in order to figure it out.)

Sort of like a common 'myth' I heard growing up, where 'tough on crime' people seemed to admire Middle Eastern governments where thieves could have a hand cut off.

The Russian one bothered me, though, because I do what I normally do. I think about what I'd think/feel/etc if I was in that position.

Let's say I was a relative of someone who joined a group intending to commit a terrorist act, and the Russians found out and punished the entire family. If that were my sister or brother, well, if they truly took it out on the family I'd probably be dead. So let's say it was a cousin, and the Russians arrested and/or killed my aunt, uncle, and two or three of my cousins.

I would probably be furious (and scared), because I'd know that four or five of those people were absolutely no threat, completely innocent. And given what I know of human behavior, 9/10 would probably be cowed enough to just keep their heads down and say nothing (even though they'd probably hate the perpetrators, the harsh response would keep them from taking too many risks)... but that tenth person?

That tenth person is going to be passionately motivated, they're going to hate, and they're going to be even more of a threat then whoever or whatever got caught up in revolutionary fervor in the first place.

(As usual, take this with a grain of salt. I have no hard and fast statistics on whether it's truly 1/10. It's just a rule of thumb used to make a point... )

In other words, that harsh show of power may temporarily solve a problem, but it sows the seeds for further problems somewhere down the line. It also sort of sucks you in, in that once you start responding like that the solution to further problems often appears to be even more brutality, which also breeds even more anger and resentment, and determined opposition, and so there's a constant undercurrent of unrest that just takes the right (or wrong) circumstances to break through.

Same thing with people's admiration for those lone rulers... kings, presidents, dictators, what-have-you. There's an appealing simplicity to being able to just say "make it so", and have everyone obey. Not that, historically, it ever really worked like that... kings always had to deal with factions (whether it's powerful nobles willing to take over at the slightest sign of weakness, or guilds, or whatever), but the myth and the glamour and the appeal is to be the person who has enough power that they can just speak a command and everyone will jump to make it happen.

I know from my own experiences leading people that it can get very exhausting trying to get people on board with whatever it is you're trying to do. It's hard to be patient when they have questions (and more questions, and more questions)... and, of course, some of them are just asking questions to drag things out so they don't have to go to work any sooner. But dealing with that is just part of the job, and if you don't like it... if you're tempted to just bulldoze over all of it, and take it as opposition (when many of them really do have legitimate questions, and will work harder/better if you answer them) then you probably shouldn't be in a leadership position, tbqh.

I understand how, especially in times of turmoil, people think a strong leader can somehow help provide some sort of stability. It's part of why it's no coincidence that Thomas Hobbes wrote Leviathan during the English Civil War (and the challenges/problems with that are something I covered a long time ago, so maybe I'll post a refresher some time in the future). It's also part of why Saddam Hussein's brutal rule starting looking better and better as the situation in Iraq degenerated further.

It goes hand in hand with the way people seem to have an entirely different standard by which they judge the movers and shakers of an era. I don't know how much of that is the whole "he may be a bastard, but he's our bastard" sort of sentiment, vs how much is tied to the belief that 'good guys never win', wherein we think anyone trying to do the 'right' thing is going to lose to the bastards out there willing to play dirty.

I've been thinking a bit about that, actually. Thinking about Cardinal Richelieu, the famous French statesman. (Okay, and a clergyman... but this was back where it was common to encourage the sons who couldn't inherit to join the church, and often they gained political power... and from an outsider's perspective many seemed a bit more worldly than one would expect in today's day and age.)

He's the one who realized that a unified Germany could threaten French superiority on the continent, and played the political game 'well' in order to ensure his country dominated.

I say 'well', because after two bloody world wars France and Germany are now allies, and iirc Germany followed the French lead... though those sorts of things can always change at a moment's notice, and I'm not sure if that's currently true any more. Still, I have to wonder... could they have achieved that state sooner if Cardinal Richelieu hadn't been afraid, and had instead tried to encourage and develop Germany sooner? (And could we have avoided those two bloody world wars in the process?)

It's like... 'divide and conquer' is famous for a reason, and it's not an uncommon strategy when someone's afraid of the strength of another.

But... when I think of my own experiences, when I think of the things that give me warm feelings, a sense of loyalty, and the desire to work for someone...

Such strategies don't make sense at all. There's a genuine joy in helping someone achieve their full potential, and most of the people who receive such support feel the same way. There's a sense of connection, and it tends to build trust, and loyalty, and other things.

And there's the flipside, the anger and resentment when that doesn't happen. When people seem afraid of your potential to outshine them, and so sabotage your attempts to succeed. Or the way people start thinking selfishly when they see you're doing so, the way so many people now are willing to hop jobs... as corporations have proven over and over again that they don't really care about you.

Some time ago, I read a book that discussed the Soviet Union's spying efforts... it might have been The Sword and the Shield? It's interesting, because it gave me the impression that the United States had been losing the spying war... over and over again the Soviets appeared to do a better job of finding our spies than we did theirs. And yet...

And yet, the Soviet Union is the one that fell apart.

In some ways, I think too much focus on brute strength makes a nation (or organization) somewhat brittle. After all, there's all sorts of different ways to show power. (I know, I know... people talk about 'soft' power all the time, and maybe they even have a definition for what they mean by it.)

A baby has power - whether it's humans, or kittens, or puppies, or any other young animal. Their helplessness, the larger head/eyes of childhood, all of these tend to make people want to help. And people will go above and beyond to help babies.

That person you admire, who's opinion you seek out? They have power... and if it's in a specific area, like advice on fixing your car or repairing a wall, they have expert power, though that power probably doesn't just come from expertise... you may know someone who's just as much of an expert who's an a-hole, and you'd only go to them as a last resort.

There's a lot more to building a strong nation than brute force... and part of what struck me about the Soviet attempts at spying was that they had a culture where people were afraid to stand out. If you stood out too much, you got into trouble... so better to pretend to be a little dumber, a little less capable. Be just like everyone else.

It's hard to measure what sort of impact that can have, of course, but I think any organization that has such toxic disincentives is going to be at a disadvantage against the organizations that nurture and celebrate talent.

I feel like this post switched gears rather rapidly, but I'm about done typing for the day, so I'll just summarize the main point -

Don't think that harsh brutality and/or a willingness to ignore social norms about what's 'good' necessarily means someone is strong, or even powerful.

Tuesday, June 24, 2014

On National Strength, Morals, Etc.

I talked about realpolitik in my last post, and probably made it sound negative.  I wanted to go into more detail here, because I don't think that it has to be.

Realpolitik is tied up with the belief that good politics are what's best for the nation (whether that means ensuring a good source of oil, or building alliances against threats, or what-have-you).  The problem, I think, is that people can justify almost anything.


I have to admit, realism seems to reflect international politics more than any other model.  The notion that democracies don't fight seems silly, considering we did go to war with England in the 1800s.  The belief that globalism and the interconnectivity between nations will make war disappear has some merit.  It means there are more severe disadvantages for fighting.  But if the issue seemed important enough, I think nations would overlook that, as well.

But realism sometimes seems harsh and cold, and I think most people associate it with a cynical, pessimistic and negative view of human nature.  One I disagree with rather strongly.

If you look at who people admire and respect, it's generally NOT the ones seen as master manipulators.  Nor the game players.  (If you want to go the Christian route and consider the Bible - when Jesus tells his disciples that he will make them fishers of men, he was telling them that he would make them leaders.  How?  By teaching them to serve others, and to be good shepherds, not by giving them 48 Laws of Power.)

To bring this back to the title above - I think policies that make our nation stronger are ones that would expand our options, build off a strong base of support, and stay true to our national values rather than cynically giving lip service to them.

I sometimes think of a book I'd read, years ago, on the Ottoman Empire.  From what I remembered, the Ottoman Empire (before becoming "the sick man of Europe") was pretty smart about how it operated.  It offered better governance than its neighbors, so much so that Christians in the Balkans preferred Ottoman rule.  It's been a while since I read the book, and I know the details were not as simple or nice as that...but the principle seemed sound.  Besides, it resonates with the American concept of a "city on the hill" trying to lead by example.

We have a lot going for us.  We have enormous resources, a large and capable population, wide oceans to our east and west, and only two nations (Canada and Mexico) on our immediate borders.  We're too large to pretend we can't or don't have an influence on the rest of the world, we just have to figure out how to do so wisely.  Intervene, and people will criticize you for meddling.  Don't intervene, and people will criticize you for doing nothing when you could have made a difference.  For better or worse, we have an effect on the outcomes of current events.  The question is, what outcomes do we want to pursue?  And how capable are we of making those outcomes a reality?

We are weaker, in that we seem rather incapable of making things happen the way we profess we want them to.  Iraq has hardly lived up to our rhetoric.  Nor has Afghanistan.

In the last decade, it seems like we, as a nation, grow more and more constrained.  Even worse, the influence of business on our foreign policy (both somewhat isolated from the average American) means that we have done things in the past that make it harder to operate in the present.  If you read about our history in South American and Latin America, for example, you find that Hugo Chavez's ridiculous conspiracy claims were not as far fetched as they sounded.  Our past actions made it easier for someone like Hugo Chavez to oppose American interests.

(The CIA has a reputation that can be used against us, as much as for us.  Want to claim that what you are doing isn't really a bad thing?  Claim that 'the West' is stirring up trouble and supporting your opponents.

Monday, June 23, 2014

Iraq

I'd told myself I wasn't going to write about Iraq.

Honest.

I'd spent over three years thinking about the place, blogging, searching for answers...

And one of the reasons I stopped was that I was beginning to feel like an armchair quarterback.  I wasn't the one out there making the call.  And it started to feel silly to think my posts would make much of a difference.  (And if I'm wrong, and you want to read more from me, then please put a little something in the tip jar I've added.  This is not my full time job and it'd be nice to know my  hobby means something.)

Despite my original inclination, I decided to type up a blog post anyway.  There are a lot of good articles out there discussing the situation.  Some not so good ones as well.  I think you all can read them the same as I can.  What I would like to point out is that the people arguing for intervention seem to believe they are playing a game like risk.  Move one colored square here, take this spot, try to keep a Shiite crescent from developing or war between Saudis and Iranians, or what-have-you.

Very realpolitik.  Very strategic.

Only thing missing is this - people are not little colored squares that you can move around at will.

The Iraqis deserve to be more than just victims of some geopolitical upheaval.

And for Americans, the past decade has left practically NO appetite for further involvement. 

I haven't heard a single argument from the ones suggesting involvement that addresses the fact that some of the exact same thinking has left us weaker as a nation.

We have less credibility.  Less capacity to exert our influence.  Less support from our own people.

If we were to get involved, how do we know we won't just overreact, then give up and pull out and wind up even worse off than before?  Or underreact, do too little, and look even weaker?


Why won't we wind up in the same situation seven years later?