This article uses ethnographic material collected around Lake Mutirikwi in southern Zimbabwe, to explore how the affective presence of graves and ruins, which materialize past and present occupations and engagements with/in the landscape (by different clans, colonial and postcolonial state institutions, war veterans, chiefs, and spirit mediums, as well as white commercial farmers), are entangled in complex, localized contests over autochthony and belonging, even as they are finely implicated in wider reconfigurations of authority and state‐craft. Situating these highly contested assertions, discourses, and practices in the context of national redefinitions of citizenship and belonging articulated by ZANU PF's rhetoric of 'patriotic history', this article explores how these contests are made real through the consequential materiality of milieu. Although the central hook will be the prominent role that graves, both ancestral 'mapa' and recent burials, have played in ongoing claims to land and authority, its main perspective will be on how different, overlapping, and intertwined notions of belonging are enabled, constrained, and structured through the materiality of place, thereby emphasizing the proximity of discourses and practices of belonging that derives from the shared nature of material landscapes. In this vein, the ruins and graves of past white occupation and interventions in the landscape comingle and coexist with the resurgent appeals of local clans to ancestral territories on occupied lands. The broader theoretical purpose of the article is to engage with recent debates over materiality and anthropology's so‐called 'ontological turn' to make a case for focusing less on 'radical ontological difference' and more on material, historical, and conceptual proximities.RésuméA partir de matériaux ethnographiques recueillis autour du Lac Mutirikwi, dans le sud du Zimbabwe, cet article explore la façon dont la présence affective de tombes et de ruines, matérialisant les occupations et interactions présentes et passées avec le paysage (institutions coloniales et postcoloniales, anciens combattants, chefs, spirites et fermiers blancs), s'intrique dans une complexe concurrence locale autour de l'autochtonie et de l'appartenance, tout en relevant d'une reconfiguration plus large de l'autorité et de la force de l'État. Pour situer ces affirmations, discours et pratiques très contestés dans le contexte de la redéfinition nationale de la citoyenneté et de l'appartenance formulé par la rhétorique de « l'histoire patriotique » du ZANU‐PF, l'auteur explore comment ces rivalités se manifestent à travers la matérialité du milieu. Bien que l'argument central soit le rôle éminent des tombes,« mapa »ancestrales aussi bien qu'inhumations récentes, dans les revendications de la terre et de l'autorité, l'article sera principalement consacréà la façon dont des notions différentes de l'appartenance, se chevauchant et s'interpénétrant, sont éveillées, contraintes et structurées par la matérialité des lieux, mettant ainsi l'accent sur la proximité entre discours et pratiques découlant de la nature partagée des paysages matériels. Dans cette veine, les ruines et tombes datant de l'occupation passée par les Blancs et de leurs interventions dans le paysage coexistent avec les appels renouvelés des clans locaux à se réapproprier les territoires ancestraux dans les terres occupées, et se mêlent à ceux‐ci. Plus largement, le but théorique de cet article est de contribuer aux récents débats sur la matérialité et sur le prétendu « virage ontologique » de l'anthropologie, afin de plaider pour que l'on s'intéresse moins à une « différence ontologique radicale » et davantage aux rapprochements matériels, historiques et conceptuels
2018 was marked by a variety of celebrations of the 100th anniversary of Poland's independence. Therefore, it was impossible to ignore this great event also in terms of scientific reflection. We decided to include into this and the next issue a few interesting cultural studies on various aspects of the regained independence. The first mini cycle is comprised of three articles is dominated by research on the prefiguration of what happened in 1918. Włodzimierz Toruń (KUL) analyzes a few sketches, or rather, literary essays by Cyprian Norwid, written after the fall of the January Uprising (1864), expressing the poet's critical views on the Polish roads to national sovereignty. The Poles "know how combat" but they "do not know how to fight," Norwid writes, at the same time pointing to the importance of spiritual independence, which in his opinion is more meaningful than the political one. Wilhelm Coindre (UKSW) turns toward interesting independence themes in the works of Maria Dąbrowska. The school strike in Kalisz in 1905 became an inspiration for that writer to undertake deep reflection about what the coming independence is to be like. The triptych is closed by the article by Karol Samsel (UW) on a little-known "post-romanticistally entangled" intellectual independence journalism of Joseph Conrad, providing a very interesting analysis from the perspective of the intertextual method, as a precise deconstruction of a highly sophisticated, elegant "literary game." The second part of the issue consists of a number of highly diverse, but in any case interesting essays. The team of five authors (a setting to which we are not accustomed to in the humanities): Aleksandra Smołka- Majchrzak, Jakub Lickiewicz, Thomas Nag, Conrad Ravnanger, and Marta Makara-Studzińska present the results of their research combining clinical medicine and cultural studies, analyzing the effectiveness of tools to evaluate training geared to prevent aggressive behavior towards medical staff from an intercultural perspective. Further, we include a cross-sectional, historical-cultural analysis of the significance of church music in the history of the Church by Fr. Robert Tyrała (UPJPII). An interesting proposal for interpretation of contemporary marketing strategies of book promotion, and more broadly, the "celebritization" of authors, was studied by Edyta Żyrek-Horodyska (Jagiellonian University) on the example of a journalist and writer-reporter Mariusz Szczygieł, who perfectly illustrates these transformations in the space of media activity (especially social media), where the writer becomes not only an author but also a protagonist of their work. The media study by Olga Białek-Szwed (KUL), in which the author aims to present correlations between contemporary civilization and cultural transformations and the situation of the human being as a consumer of the mass media in the 21st century, shows the specificity of some mechanisms governing contemporary media, such as media voyeurism, the so-called online living, or the metaphor of the synopticon. The issue closes with a text by Paweł Krokosz (UPJPII), under the intriguing title Od przedawcy pierożków do generalissimusa [From pie seller to the generalissimo], bringing closer the little-known figure of Alexander Mienshykov, a man from the social lowlands, who made friends with Tsar Peter I and managed to achieve considerable wealth, prominent state positions and the highest ranks of command in the Russian army and war fleet. He even tried unsuccessfully, after the tsar's death, to take over the leadership of all state affairs. In 1727, he was arrested and convicted to exile in Berezovo, Siberia, with his family. As always, we wish you a pleasant and useful scientific reading!
Minority Politics in Practice. Protection and Empowerment in the DGBR Protection has at the least two dimensions. It is furthermore an action that is a classical top-down process. Empowerment starts out as a top-down process, but transforms into a bottom-up process. It is an active process in which the empowered person, community, or group are able and willing to change their own situation or to preserve their status quo. In the border region, many organizations are run by minorities. By funding the many minority organizations, while at the same time letting them run their own affairs, the land and national governments practice a politics of empowerment. The German Secretariat in Denmark and the SSW's release from the 5 percent threshold are two further examples for empowerment in the DGBR. Mapping national minority politics. Expert interviews concerning national minority participation in the DGBR An institutional set-up for national minority rights protection as complex as the one for the national minorities in the DGBR cannot be copied one to one. The role model's general character can be explained and thus may serve as an inspiration for other regions. Key points for the role-model character of the DGBR are: Good Will, Interlocking Directorates, Passionate Personnel, Organized Minorities, Decision-making Table and the Back Room. My chancellor is in Berlin and my Queen in Copenhagen. National minority identity in the DGBR Minority identity is indeed very complex and multilayered. Major properties of national minority identity in the DGBR are: Family, Culture, Socialization and Self-Fulfillment. Minor properties are Social Status, Community, Schools and Contact. I can't talk to you right now, it's harvest time. RDS-survey amongst national minorities in the DGBR The minorities' socio economic features do not differ much from the general population in socio economic terms. The German minority consists mostly of minority families that have ties to the minority for a long time, while the Danish minority seems to constantly attract new minority members whose family history is not entangled with the minority and who affiliate with the minority for other reasons. Both minority parties are seen as the most important actors for minority political participation. In Denmark though, also the BDN seems to be of great importance, where the importance of the SSF in Germany is not valued as much and the SSW is clearly the dominant actor for minority members. ; Minority Politics in Practice. Protection and Empowerment in the DGBR Protection hat mindestens zwei Dimensionen. Es ist außerdem eine Aktion die einen klassischen top-down-Prozess darstellt. Es ist ein aktiver Prozess, in dem die befähigte Person, Gemeinschafft oder Gruppe in der Lage und gewillt sind ihre eigene Situation zu verändern oder ihren Status-Quo zu bewahren. In der Grenzregion werden viele Organisationen von Minderheiten betrieben. Indem sie die vielen Minderheitenorganisationen finanzieren, während sie sie gleichzeitig ihre eigenen Angelegenheiten regeln lassen, betreiben die Landesund Nationalregierungen eine Politik des Empowerments. Das Deutsche Sekretariat in Dänemark und die Befreiung des SSW von der Fünf-Prozent-Hürde sind zwei weitere Beispiele von Empowerment im Dänisch-Deutschen Grenzland. Mapping national minority politics. Expert interviews concerning Ein institutioneller Aufbau für den Schutz der Rechte nationaler Minderheiten der so komplex ist, wie der für die nationalen Minderheiten im Dänisch- Deutschen Grenzland, kann nicht eins zu eins kopiert werden. Der generelle Charakter der Vorbilds-Region kann erklärt werden und mag so als Inspiration für andere Regionen dienen. Schlüsselpunkte des Vorbildcharakters des Dänisch-Deutschen Grenzlands sind: Guter Wille, Überkreuzverflechtungen, Passioniertes Personal, Organisierte Minderheiten, der Runde Tisch und das Hinterzimmer. My chancellor is in Berlin and my Queen in Copenhagen. National Die Identität von Minderheiten ist tatsächlich sehr komplex und vielschichtig. Hauptmerkmale von Minderheitenidentität im Dänisch-Deutschen Grenzland sind: Familie, Kultur, Sozialisation und Selbstverwirklichung. Nebenmerkmale sind: Sozialer Status, Gemeinschaft, Schule und Kontakt. I can't talk to you right now, it's harvest time. RDS-survey amongst national minorities in the DGBR Die sozioökonomischen Eigenschaften der Minderheiten unterscheiden sich nicht stark von denen der allgemeinen Bevölkerung. Die deutsche Minderheit besteht hauptsächlich aus Minderheitenfamilien die seit langer Zeit Verbindungen zur Minderheit haben, während die dänische Minderheit andauernd neue Angehörige anzieht, deren Familiengeschichte nicht mit der Minderheit verwoben ist und die sich aus anderen Gründen der Minderheit zugehörig zu fühlen scheinen. Beide Minderheitenparteien werden als die wichtigsten Akteure zur politischen Beteiligung der Minderheiten angesehen. In Dänemark jedoch ist auch der BDN von großer Wichtigkeit, während die Bedeutung des SSF in Deutschland nicht so hoch bewertet wird und d er SSW klar der dominante Akteur für die Minderheitenangehörigen ist.
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Gabrielle Hecht on Nuclear Ontologies, De-provincializing the Cold War, and Postcolonial Technopolitics
This is the fourth in a series of Talks dedicated to the technopolitics of International Relations, linked to the forthcoming double volume 'The Global Politics of Science and Technology' edited by Maximilian Mayer, Mariana Carpes, and Ruth Knoblich
Nuclear power has formed a centerpiece of Cold-War IR theorizing. Yet besides the ways in which its destructive capacity invalidates or alters the way we should understand questions of war and peace, there are different powers at play in the roles the nuclear assumes in global politics. Through careful investigations of alternative sites and spaces of nuclear politics, Gabrielle Hecht has uncovered some of the unexpected ways in which what one can call the 'nuclear condition' affects politics across the globe. In this Talk, Hecht, amongst others, explores what it means to 'be nuclear'; explains how we need to deprovincialize the Cold War to fully grasp its significance in global politics; and challenges us to explore technopolitics outside of the comfortable context of OECD-countries.
Print version of this Talk (pdf)
What is according to your view the most important challenge facing global politics and what is/should be the central debate in the discipline of International Relations (IR)?
I think one of the most important challenges in global politics is the question of planetary boundaries. In the 1970s the Club of Rome published the report 'the Limits to Growth' (read PDF here), which addressed the finite quality of the planet's resources. It exposed the problems that the ideology (and practice) of endless economic growth posed for these limits. The question of climate change today really is all about planetary boundaries. We have already exceeded the CO2 level that is safe for the planet to sustain human life: We have just passed 400 parts per million; the desirable level is rated at 350 parts per million; the pre-industrial level of CO2 was 270 parts per million. So we have already produced more CO2 than is sustainable. And that is just one indicator. There are all kinds of other planetary boundaries at play—energy supply being the most salient one in terms of climate change. How can we even produce enough energy to maintain the lifestyles of the industrialized north? What about the requirements of the so-called 'rest'?
Obviously this is a huge issue and there are many parts to it. One part of this—the piece that I have studied the most—is nuclear power. Many people are enthusiastic about nuclear power as a solution to climate change. Some prominent environmentalists have been converted, because they believe nuclear power offers a way to produce a large amount of energy with a very small amount of matter, and because they see it as carbon free. (That's pretty clearly not the case, by the way, though nuclear power certainly produces less carbon than fossil fuels.) But are the human health and environmental costs worth the savings in carbon? Do the resources poured into nuclear power—some are predicting a thousand new reactors in the next few decades—take away resources from other forms of energy production, forms that could potentially address the emissions problems more rapidly and with lower costs for the environment and for human health? Moreover, nuclear power in any one location ends up becoming a global issue. So in that sense nuclear power in China, in India or in Japan is inherently a global problem. And the industry everywhere certainly needs global regulation—at the moment, there is none. The International Atomic Energy Agency is not a regulator. These are serious questions for international relations, and should be fodder for analysis.
One can obviously put this into perspective by comparing the death toll from nuclear power with that related to coal—would one then actually have to be against the use of coal? The numbers of coal-related deaths are astonishing. But the first, most obvious point to make is that being against coal doesn't require being in favor of nuclear power! It's also extremely important to realize that death and morbidity figures for nuclear power are highly contested. Take the figures concerning Chernobyl. The IAEA and WHO put Chernobyl deaths at 4,000. A study published by National Cancer Institute in the United States puts the deaths at something like 43,000. A meta-analysis of 5,000 Slavic language scientific studies estimates the total number of Chernobyl deaths (some of which are yet to come) at 900,000. These discrepancies have a lot to do with controversies over the biological effects of low-level radiation, and also with the technopolitics of measurement and counting. Comparing the two energy technologies is much more complicated than merely counting coal deaths vs. nuclear power deaths.
How did arrive where you currently are in your thinking about these issues?
Actually, the real question is how I came to study politics. I got my bachelor's degree in physics from MIT in the 1980s. The two biggest political issues on campus at that time were Ronald Reagan's Strategic Defense Initiative and Apartheid in South Africa (specifically, a move to divest American corporate interests in South Africa, the very corporations that were funding MIT research and for which MIT students would work when they graduated). I got interested in both, and along the way I came to realize that I was much more interested in the politics of science and technology than I was in actually doing physics. So I took some courses in the field of science and technology studies (STS), and decided to attend graduate school in the history and sociology of science and technology.
I had also always had a morbid fascination with nuclear weapons. I'd read a lot of post-apocalyptic science fiction when I was a teenager. All of these things came together for me in graduate school. I first hoped to study the history of Soviet nuclear weapons but quickly realized that would be impossible for all kinds of reasons. I ended up studying French nuclear power after I realized that nobody had researched it in the ways that interested me. I had lived in France in the 1970s, when the nuclear power program was undergoing rapid expansion. So it was a good fit. After I was done with that project, I became interested in rethinking the so-called nuclear age from a colonial and post-colonial perspective.
What would a student need to become a specialist in global studies or understand the world in a global way?
Travel, learn languages. Remain attentive to—and critical of—the political work done by claims to 'global' purview. Learn history—you won't understand international relations in any depth at all if you remain rooted in the present.
Then, for those want to start exploring the global politics of science and technology, two books come immediately to mind. Timothy Mitchell's (Theory Talk #59) Carbon Democracy, on the global technopolitics of fossil fuels. And Paul Edwards's A Vast Machine, on the relationship between data and models in the production of knowledge about climate change. Both are must-reads.
The world is permeated with technological artifacts and systems—in what ways is this relevant for approaches to global politics? Where is the conceptual place for technologies within IR?
First, I should make clear that I am not an IR specialist.
That said, I think it does not make sense to think about international relations (lower case) without thinking about the technologies, systems, and infrastructures that make any kind of global movement possible. The flows of people, of products, of culture, political exchanges—these are all mediated through and practiced in the technological systems that permeate our globe. So are the interruptions and absences in such 'flows'. I draw attention to the specific political practices that are enacted through technological systems with the notion of technopolitics. I initially used this concept in my work on nuclear power in France to capture the ways in which hybrid forms of power are enacted in technological artifacts, systems and practices. There I used the term in a rather narrow sense to talk about the strategic practices of designing technologies to enact political goals. My paramount example was that of the French atomic weapons program. In the early 1950s, France's political leaders insisted that France would never build atomic weapons. But engineers and other leaders in the nascent nuclear program were designing reactors in a way that optimized the production of weapons-grade plutonium rather than electricity. When politicians finally signed on, the technology was ready to go. This example problematizes the very notion of a 'political decision'. Instead of a single, discursive decision, we see a complex process whereby political choices are inscribed into technologies, which subsequently favor certain political outcomes over others.
In this example, both engineers and politicians consciously engaged in technopolitics. By contrast, Timothy Mitchell has used the hyphenated term 'techno-politics' to emphasize the unpredictable and unintended effects of technological assemblages. Over the last fifteen years, I have also developed a broader notion of the term, particularly in its adjectival form, 'technopolitical'. I find this to be a useful shorthand for describing both how politics can be strategically enacted through technological systems, and also how technological systems can be re-appropriated for political ends in ways that were unintended by their designers. The point, really, is to highlight the myriad politics of materiality.
Do the particular characteristics of nuclear technologies and related research programs make it impossible to apply the lenses of 'high politics'?
I think a high-politics approach to understanding nuclear weapons decision-making is extremely impoverished. It's not that there aren't high politics, of course there are. But they cannot offer a sufficient or straightforward explanation for how or why any one particular country develops a nuclear program. A focus on high politics implies a focus decision makers and moments. But that's really misleading. In pretty much every case, the apparent 'moment' of decision is in fact a long process involving a tremendous amount of technopolitical, cultural, and institutional work, rife with conflicts and contingencies of all kinds. I think a more productive approach is to try to understand nuclear capacity-building.
Itty Abraham has done some fantastic work on India's nuclear program, which helps us think about other cases as well. For example, he analyzes the symbolic importance of the nuclear test, noting that IR uses 'the test' as kind of 'aha!' moment, the moment in which one knows that a country has nuclear weapons. Instead, Abraham sees the test as a process for the cultural production of meaning: a process in which certain meanings get fixed, but by no means the most important moment for understanding the actual technology and politics behind the production of nuclear weapons.
Your book Entangled Geographies (2011) explores a plethora of places, people, and technical networks that sustained the US and Soviet empires. Here, as in Being Nuclear (2012), you insist on investigating the Cold War as transnational history. What difference does this move make?
In Entangled Geographies, my colleagues and I build on the work of Odd Arne Westad, whose book The Global Cold War was an argument for understanding the non-superpower, non-European dimensions of the Cold War. We give that a technopolitical spin, which offers a de-provincializing of the Cold War that's complementary to Westad's. By focusing on places like Saudi Arabia, or Zimbabwe, or Brazil, or South Africa, we show how even the central struggles of the Cold War were intimately bound up in 'northern' relationships to colonial and post-colonial worlds, and in the imaginaries that characterized those relationships.
In Being Nuclear I focus on uranium from Africa—more specifically South Africa, Namibia, Gabon, Madagascar, and Niger. Uranium from Africa has long been a major source of fuel for nuclear power and atomic weapons, including the bomb dropped on Hiroshima, but it has been almost completely absent from accounts of the nuclear age, whether scholarly or popular. This changed in 2002, when the US and British governments claimed that Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein 'sought significant quantities of uranium from Africa' (later specified as the infamous 'yellowcake from Niger'). Africa suddenly became notorious as a source of uranium. But that did not admit Niger, or any of Africa's other uranium-producing countries, to the select society of nuclear states. Nor did it mean that uranium itself counted as a nuclear thing. My book explores what it means for something—a state, an object, an industry, a workplace—to be 'nuclear'. I show that such questions lie at the heart of today's global order and the relationships between 'developing nations' and 'nuclear powers'.
Being Nuclear argues that 'nuclearity' is not a straightforward scientific classification but a contested technopolitical one. In the first part of the book, I follow uranium's path out of Africa and analyze the invention of the global uranium market. In the second part, I enter African nuclear worlds, focusing on miners and the occupational hazard of radiation exposure. In both parts, I show that nuclearity requires instruments and data, technological systems and infrastructures, national agencies and international organizations, experts and conferences, and journals and media exposure. When (and where) nuclearity is densely distributed among these elements, it can offer a means of claiming expertise, compensation, or citizenship. It can serve as a framework for making sense of history, experience, and memory. When (and where) network elements are absent, weak, or poorly connected, nuclearity falters, fades, or disappears altogether, failing to provide a resource for people claiming remediation or treatment. Nuclearity in one register doesn't easily transpose to another: geopolitical nuclearity doesn't automatically translate into occupational nuclearity. Yet these domains remain connected. African uranium miners depend on the transnational movement of nuclear things, but that movement also depends on African miners. Ultimately, I conclude, nuclear security must be considered in tandem with other forms of human security—food and health and environmental and political security. By placing Africa in the nuclear world, and the nuclear world in Africa, the book seeks to remake our understanding of the nuclear age.
I should note that it's not only uranium production that connects the colonial and postcolonial spaces with nuclear things. (Also: African countries weren't the only such places where uranium was produced. Much of the rest of the world's uranium came from the Navajo nation in the United States, Aboriginal territories in Australia, First Nation territories in Canada, colonized spaces in the Soviet Empire, etc.) French nuclear weapons were tested in the Algerian desert and French Polynesia; the United States tested its weapons on the Bikini Islands; Britain tested its weapons in Maralinga, in Aboriginal Australia; the Soviet Union tested its weapons on the planes of Kazakhstan. And so on.
So, understanding the history of the Cold War—even its most iconic technology, nuclear weapons—as a form of transnational history really calls attention to spaces that have previously been considered marginal, even perhaps not fully nuclear. Ultimately, it should provoke us to problematize 'the Cold War' as a frame for global or transnational history (and social science).
Looking at those colonized and semi-colonized spaces of mining, testing and monitoring infrastructures gives us not necessarily an answer to the question of why the Cold War ended, but it does enable you to ask different and possibly more interesting questions. It can lead you, for example, to place the Cold War within the framework of imperialism (rather than the other way around). A longer historical view questions whether the Cold War really represents historical rupture. What political work is done by such claims to rupture? How does that work differ in different places? What are its material consequences?
Why are science and technology hardly ever studied in the postcolonial world from a STS perspective?
I think there are a number of reasons why STS has paid relatively little attention to the postcolonial world. One is that in STS—like many disciplines—the prestige of the subject matter maps onto the prestige of the researcher. So STS researchers who study cutting-edge science or large-scale technological systems seem somehow to be getting at 'harder' topics, ones that that focus on active creation. Engineering and other acts of creation appear more prestigious than acts of maintenance, or acts of dismantling. Even studying small-scale creation seems to confer more prestige than studying mundane practices. This brings us back to the theme of rupture vs. continuity: studying or proclaiming rupture seems somehow sexier—and certainly more radical—than studying continuity.
Another, more trivial answer is just that most STS researchers so far have come from Europe and North America, and they tend not to be trained in area studies.
Does the constant ontological insecurity of nuclear things mean that the 'nuclear' is purely a matter of social and political construction?
No, definitely not. But I think to explain what I mean by all this we should take a few steps back and start with what I like to call nuclear exceptionalism. This is a technopolitical claim—emerging immediately after the end of World War II—that there was something radically unique about nuclear things. From 1945 onward, both cold warriors and their activist opponents cultivated this nuclear exceptionalism. Atomic weapons were portrayed as fundamentally different from any other human creation. The bomb was the ultimate geopolitical trump card, and it was imagined as replacing empire in one fell swoop. You see nuclear scientists and engineers gaining prestige, power, and funding far beyond their colleagues in conventional research. In the meantime, anti-nuclear groups make their own claims to exceptionalism by talking about the unprecedented dangers posed by nuclear things. Everywhere you see nuclearity and morality intertwined. Nuclear things either represent salvation or moral depravity… or the apocalyptic end of mankind. But regardless of where you stood politically, this notion of nuclear exceptionalism rested on the sense that the difference between nuclear and non-nuclear things was transparent---ultimately a clear-cut, physical matter of radioactivity.
The nuclear thus emerges not just as a category, but also as a universal and universalizing ontology, one that seems to apply in the same way all over the globe. And frankly, historians, political scientists, anthropologists, and sociologists have reproduced that nuclear exceptionalism. (I did it myself in my first book, The Radiance of France.)
All of which has made it hard to see that what I call nuclearity—the process by which something comes to count as a "nuclear" thing – has a history, a politics, and a geography. Things that count as nuclear in one time and place might not count as nuclear at another. Rendering something as nuclear and exceptional is a form of technopolitical claims-making. It follows that insisting that certain things are not especially nuclear, or that they are banal, is also a form of technopolitical claims-making.
You can see this in the response of the nuclear industry to activist opponents. In the late 1960s and over the course of the 1970s, the nuclear industry began to represent nuclear power not as a life-saving technology for the human race, but as simply another way to boil water. Radiation was just another industrial risk. Such representations seek to banalize nuclear things.
Nuclearity could thus get made, unmade and remade. My favorite example comes from a 1995 US government report on nuclear proliferation. The appendix has a table that summarizes the nuclear activities of 172 nations. Neither Gabon, nor Niger, nor Namibia are listed as having any nuclear activities, despite the fact that those nations together, during that very year, produced something like 25% of the world's uranium. So when does uranium count as a nuclear thing? When does it lose its nuclearity? And what does Africa have to do with it?
The argument is not that radioactivity doesn't have to do anything with nuclearity, or that nuclearity has nothing to do with the technologies and physical processes we typically associate with the word. Rather, I argue that nuclearity is one thing, and radioactivity and fission are another; sometimes they are co-terminus, but not always and not necessarily. Understanding where (and why) they don't map onto each other is politically revealing.
Which kind of interdisciplinary exchanges do we need between your discipline and IR to deepen our understanding of global technopolitics?
Science and technology studies (STS) is really good at exploring practice, and especially at calling attention to the differences between principles and practice—for example, between regulation on the one hand, and the actual practices that regulations are meant to control (without ever entirely succeeding). STS can bring to IR an understanding of how the intimate details of practice matter politically—of how everyday technopolitical and techno-scientific exchanges can be more important loci for politics than treaties, diplomacy, and other forms of what you called high politics.
I can also answer this question wearing my historian's hat. The IR scholarship on nuclear weapons that I'm familiar with (and again, I'm not an expert!) seems to be quite focused on producing models—on using history to produce predictive models that will in turn serve to shape international policy on nuclear weapons regulation. But if history tells us one thing, it is that models are basically useless for understanding how countries develop nuclear weapons. Instead, history and STS both teach us about which questions to ask (in this instance, about nuclear development). Identifying the important questions—rather than prescribing the applicable model—leaves open the list of possible answers. It also leaves open solutions and policies, letting us be more attentive to the specificities and uniqueness of individual cases.
Final question. Let's take the example of Iran's nuclear program. What alternative question about the issue would lenses of nuclear exceptionalism bring us?
Nuclear technology has played an important role in shaping modern Iranian national identity. This began in the 1970s under the Shah, who – with the support of the US – developed a grandiose plan to build a fleet of nuclear reactors. It took a different turn after the 1979 Iranian revolution. For a while, the new regime sidelined the nuclear program as an unwelcome manifestation of western corruption. But after a few years leaders reappropriated nuclear development and sought to invest it with Iranian-ness. The dynamics of nuclear exceptionalism have operated in Iran much the same way they did in France and in South Africa. Nuclear exceptionalism has served to give material form to national identity. And materialized national identity is most emphatically not something that you can negotiate away in the P5+1 talks.
Gabrielle Hecht is Professor of History at the University of Michigan, where she also directs the Program in Science, Technology, and Society and serves as associate director of the African Studies Center. She recently published Being Nuclear: Africans and the Global Uranium Trade (MIT Press and Wits University Press, 2012), which has received awards from the American Historical Association and the American Sociological Association, as well as the 2013 Susanne M. Glasscock Humanities Book Prize and Honorable Mention for the African Studies Association's 2013 Herskovits Award. She is also the author of The Radiance of France: Nuclear Power and National Identity after World War II (MIT Press 1998 & 2009) and editor of Entangled Geographies: Empire and Technopolitics in the Global Cold War, editor (MIT Press, 2011). Hecht is embarking on a new book project on technology and power in Africa, as well as new research on transnational toxic trash. She has held visiting positions at universities in Australia, France, Norway, South Africa, and Sweden.
Related links
Hecht's faculty profile at the University of Michigan Read Hecht's Introduction to Entangled Geographies (MIT Press 2011) here (pdf) Read Hecht's The Power of Nuclear Things (Technology & Culture 2010) here (pdf) Read Hecht's Nuclear Ontologies (Constellations 2006) here (pdf) Read Hecht's Rupture-Talk in the Nuclear Age (Social Studies of Science 2002) here (pdf)
Print version of this Talk (pdf)
0 0 1 3775 21518 School of Global Studies/University of Gothenburg 179 50 25243 14.0
O Código Penal pode ser considerado a ferramenta que fornece as melhores respostas ao combate à violência contra a mulher ou é necessário encontrar outros canais mais eficazes de garantias no plano jurídico? Ainda que em termos globais seja notória a desigualdade relativa ao gênero, questiona-se, neste artigo, o quanto a opção criminalizadora não acabaria provocando o acirramento da mencionada desigualdade. Considerando-se que a hegemonia da ideologia patriarcal não seria o único argumento a fundamentar a análise das situações de violência doméstica, recorreu-se ao saber psicanalítico para entender as motivações que mantêm uma relação enredada em uma trama de agressividade mútua. A partir dessa perspectiva, procurou-se considerar os múltiplos aspectos envolvidos na construção de um vínculo capazes de potencializar a violência. Verificou-se o quanto experiências traumáticas na primeira infância podem provocar um efeito dessubjetivante e perpetuar uma história de violência doméstica através de gerações. Observou-se que arranjos inconscientes participam da formação de vínculos marcados por um tipo de dependência adesiva a partir do qual a autonomia é inconcebível. Neste modelo relacional a capacidade de pensar é anulada. Conclui-se pela necessidade de promover formas de intervenção nas quais a circulação formalizada da palavra auxilie no desenvolvimento da capacidade reflexiva dos sujeitos.Palavras-Chave: Violência contra a mulher. Lei Maria da Penha. Vínculo. Propostas de intervenção.***Abstract:Can the Criminal Code be considered the tool which provides the best answers to the fight on the violence against women or is it necessary to find other more efficient channels of assurance in the legal sphere? Although it is, overall, notorious the gender inequality, it is questioned in this paper how much the criminalizing option would not end up worsening the aforementioned inequality. Considering that the patriarchal ideology hegemony would not be the only argumentation to base the analysis of the domestic violence situations, it was used the psychoanalytical knowledge in order to understand the motivations which keep an entangled relation in a mutual aggressiveness plot. From this perspective, it was considered the multiple aspects involved in the building of ties able to empower the violence. It was observed how much the traumatic experiences of the early childhood can trigger a dis-subjectification effect and perpetuate a domestic violence history throughout generations. It was also verified that the unconscious arrangements take place in the building of bonds characterized by a type of adhesion-dependent from where the autonomy is unconceivable. In such relational model the thinking capacity is abolished. It is concluded the need to promote methods of intervention in which the movement formalized of the word aids in the development of the reflexive capacity of the subjects.Key-Words: Violence against women. Law Maria da Penha. Bonds. Proposals for Intervention.***Resumen:El Código Penal puede ser considerado la herramienta que proporciona las mejores respuestas al combate a la violencia contra la mujer o es necesario encontrar otros canales más eficaces de garantía en el plano jurídico? Aunque en términos globales sea notoria la desigualdad relativa al género, se cuestiona, en este artículo, sí la opción por la criminalización no acabaría provocando el afianzamiento de la mencionada desigualdad. Se considera que la hegemonía de la ideología patriarcal no sería el único argumento a fundamentar el análisis de las situaciones de violencia doméstica, se recurre al saber psicoanalítico para entender las motivaciones que mantienen una relación compleja en una trama de agresividad mutua. A partir de esa perspectiva, se procuró considerar los múltiples aspectos involucrados en la construcción de un vínculo capaces de potencializar la violencia. Se verificó en qué forma las experiencias traumáticas en la primera infancia pueden provocar un efecto des-subjetivizante y perpetuar una historia de violencia doméstica a través de generaciones. Se observó qué acomodos inconscientes participan de la formación de vínculos marcados por un tipo de dependencia adhesiva a partir de la cual la autonomía es inconcebible. En este modelo relacional la capacidad de pensar es anulada. Se concluye que es necesario promover formas de intervención en las cuales la circulación formalizada de la palabra auxilie en el desarrollo de la capacidad reflexiva de los sujetos.Palabras clave: Violencia contra la mujer. Ley María da Penha. Vínculo. Propuesta de intervención
Introduction / Michael Powles Conference Organiser, former New Zealand ambassador to China; former high commissioner to Fiji -- 1. Official Opening -- Chair: Fui Le'apai Tu'ua 'Ilaoa Professor Asofou So'o, Vice Chancellor, National University of Samoa, Apia -- Opening address / Hon Tuilaepa Lupesoliai Sailele Malielegaoi, Prime Minister of Samoa -- Welcome address / Her Excellency Mme Li Yanduan, Ambassador of the People's Republic of China, Apia -- Keynote address / Tony Browne, Chair, New Zealand Contemporary China Research Centre, Wellington -- 2. Changing Geopolitics: China and the Pacific -- Chairs: Leasiolagi Professor Malama Meleisea, Director, Centre for Samoan Studies, National University of Samoa, Apia, and Professor Liu Shusen, Director of the Centre for Oceanic Studies, Peking University, Beijing -- China's growing impact on the regional political order / Dame Meg Taylor, Secretary General, Pacific Islands Forum Secretariat, Suva -- The Chinese Pacific: an historical review / Dr Paul D'Arcy, Associate Professor, School of Culture, History and Language, Australian National University, Canberra -- China's engagement with the South Pacific: past, present and future / Professor Liu Shusen, Deputy Dean, School of Foreign Languages, and Director of the Centre for Oceanic Studies, Peking University, Beijing -- A regional perspective / Ms Fekita Utoikamanu, Deputy Director-General, Secretariat of the Pacific Community, Noumea and Suva -- China's new leadership and its perceptions of the Asia Pacific Region / Professor Bo Zhiyue, Director, New Zealand Contemporary China Research Centre, Victoria University of Wellington -- Reflections on the experiences of the Chinese community in Samoa / Tuatagaloa Aumua Ming Leung Wai, Attorney-General of Samoa -- 3. Regional Security -- Chair: Associate Professor Tarcisius Kabutaulaka, Center for Pacific Island Studies, University of Hawai'i -- The Pacific Islands in China's geo-strategic thinking / Associate Professor Yu Changsen, Executive Director, National Centre for Oceania Studies, Sun Yat-sen University, Guangzhou -- Reordering Oceania: China's rise, geopolitics, and security in the Pacific Islands / Professor Terence Wesley-Smith, Director, Center for Pacific Island Studies, University of Hawai'i at Manoa -- Regional Security and the Role of External Actors / Dr Jim Rolfe, Director, Centre for Strategic Studies: New Zealand, Victoria University of Wellington -- 4. Chinese in the Pacific -- Chairs: Professor Brian Moloughney, Pro-Vice-Chancellor, University of Otago, Dunedin, and Professor Jenny Dixon, Deputy Vice-Chancellor (Strategic Engagement), University of Auckland -- Chinese -- Samoan Interactions -- influences both ways: entangled and intimate histories / Associate Professor Toeolesulusulu Damon Salesa, Head of Pacific Studies, University of Auckland -- China in the Pacific: alternative perspectives / Dr Iati Iati, Lecturer, Department of Politics, University of Otago, Dunedin -- China and the Pacific: a view from Tonga / Pesi Fonua, Publisher/Editor, Matangi Tonga Online, Tonga -- The drivers of current Chinese business migration to the South Pacific / Dr Graeme Smith, Research Fellow, State, Socirty and Governanace in Melanesia Program, School of International Political and Strategic Studies, Australian National University, Canberra -- A Pacific Island student in China -- reflections / Dr Rebecca Bogiri, Port Vila, Vanuatu -- Non-traditional security and global governance: China's participation in climate adaptation in Oceania / Associate Professor Wang Xuedong, Deputy Director, National Centre for Oceania Studies, Sun Yat-sen University, Guangzhou -- 5. Development Cooperation -- Chairs: Associate Professor WANG Xuedong, Deputy Director, National Centre for Oceania Studies, Sun Yat-sen University, Guangzhou, and Letuimanu'asina Dr Emma Kruse Va'ai, Deputy Vice-Chancellor, National University of Samoa, Apia -- The context of overall aid in the Pacific -- and its effectiveness / Professor John Overton, Professor, School of Geography, Victoria University of Wellington -- Mapping Chinese aid in the Pacific / Dr Philippa Brant, Research Associate, Lowy Institute for Public Policy, Sydney -- Soft loans and aid: China's economic influence in the Pacific / Dr Biman Prasad, Leader, National Federation Party, Fiji; formerly Professor of Economics, University of the South Pacific, Suva -- China's aid: A Melanesian perspective / Dulciana Somare-Brash, Deputy Director, Pacific Institute of Public Policy, Vila -- The Samoan experience of China's aid / Mrs Peseta Noumea Simi, Assistant Chief Executive, Ministry of Finance, Apia -- China's development aid to Fiji: motive and method Professor / Lyu Guixia, Research Centre for Pacific Island Countries, Liaocheng University, Shandong -- The trend towards Chinese triangular development cooperation: the cases of PNG and Timor-Leste / Denghua Zhang, PhD Candidate, Australian National University, Canberra -- The tripartite China/NZ/Cook Islands Project in the Cook Islands -- a Cook Islands perspective / Hon Mark Brown, Minister of Finance, Cook Islands -- The tripartite China/NZ/Cook Islands Project in the Cook Islands -- a New Zealand perspective / Peter Zwart, Ministry of Foreign Affairs and Trade, Wellington -- 6. Trade and Investment -- Chairs: Ms Andie Fong Toy, Deputy Secretary-General, Pacific Islands Forum Secretariat, Suva, and Michael Powles, formerly Chair, WCPFC Preparatory Conference, ambassador to China, high commissioner to Fiji -- The Samoan experience / Auelua Samuelu Enari, Chief Executive Officer, Ministry of Commerce, Industry and Labour, Apia -- China and natural resource developments in Oceania: feeding the dragon / Associate Professor Tarcisius Kabutaulaka, Associate Professor, Center for Pacific Island Studies, University of Hawai'i, Hawai'i -- Foreign investments and local expectations: PNG's experience with China / Dr Patrick Matbob, Divine Word University, Madang, Papua New Guinea -- China's growing tuna fishing fleet in the Pacific Ocean: a Samoan fisheries perspective / Ms Joyce Samuelu Ah Leong, Assistant Chief Executive, Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries, Apia -- China and the sea: potential for Pacific partnerships? / Dr Paul D'Arcy, Associate Professor, School of Culture, History and Language, Australian National University, Canberra -- 7. The Final Forum -- Chair and Moderator: Jon Fraenkel, Professor of Comparative Politics, Victoria University of Wellington -- Co-Chairs: Leasiolagi Professor Malama Meleisea, Director, Centre for Samoan Studies, National University of Samoa, and Associate Professor Yu Changsen, Executive Director, National Centre for Oceania Studies, Sun Yat-sen University, Guangzhou -- Overview of the final forum -- drawing the strands together / Michael Powles, Conference Organiser; formerly ambassador to China and high commissioner to Fiji
This thesis delves into the principles of ownership and conditionality in development cooperation. Since the 1990s, ownership has become a central tenet in aid. The idea is that in order to avoid the mistakes of the past decades of failed development interventions, recipients must be empowered to take the lead in development planning and implementation. At the same time, though, the number of aid conditionalities that donors adhere to keeps rising. Also Finnish aid interventions must support not only ownership but also e.g. poverty reduction, democratisation, decentralisation, gender equality, environmental protection and good governance, values that do not always sit together easily with strong recipient ownership. The donor is faced with contradictory incentives, on the one hand to let go and on the other to keep control. The empirical focus is on Quang Tri Rural Development Programme (QTRDP), a bilateral development cooperation project in Central Vietnam funded by Finland. The research task is to assess the success of donor policies in the project as understood by donor side actors: how were donor policies, both ownership and conditionality, reflected in project practice, and conversely, how was project practice interpreted in the light of donor policies? The primary research material consists of interviews with fifteen people involved in QTRDP either through the Ministry for Foreign Affairs of Finland (MFA, the donor agency) or the consultancy company contracted to support programme implementation. The research method was empirical and quite simple: interview texts, thematised and coded, formed the basis for analysis. My methodological approach was loosely based on Olivier de Sardan's entangled social logic approach, combining both realist/factual and constructionist perspectives to analysis. The research is set in the framework of 'inside' and 'outside' perspectives to the aid relationship. The former sees aid as a rationalist activity based on planning and shared goals, the problems of which have been a consequence on ill-conceived donor policies. In this view, the ownership agenda is a much needed initiative to transfer power to the recipient. In the latter view, aid inevitably leads to donor domination, and any new policy rhetoric will not make a difference. In aid literature ownership is primarily understood as power and control over aid processes. Seen in this light, it is obvious that in QTRDP the recipient (primarily the provincial authorities) held exceptionally strong ownership over programme activities: in most central disagreements with the donor they got their way. This was enabled by the internal workings of the ownership policy. Disciplined by the discourse and the history of accusations of donor intrusion it carries with it, the donor was unwilling to use open imposition based on its financial muscle. But it was at least to an equal measure due to the exceptional strength of the recipient and his/her insistence on taking that ownership. But giving away total control (total ownership) was not an acceptable option to the interviewees: the donor also had her/his share of the right to control. Justification for the few instances of donor domination apparent in the project, as well as the general justification for donor interference in the use of aid funds, was found in the defects of the recipient, the Other, in opposition to whom the image of Self was constructed. The Other was corrupt and did not care for the hardship of vulnerable groups, qualities quite incongruent with Finnish aid policies and values in general. Therefore, the donor and the consultant were morally obliged to control the way aid funds were used. All in all the interviewees found the balance between ownership and conditionality in the programme quite good: recipient ownership had dominated over Finnish aid conditions to some degree, but still something was achieved on all fronts. Vietnamese predomination was presented as ownership, and cases of donor imposition as essential promotion of other donor goals. This way both actions congruent with ownership and actions congruent with 'donorship' were presented as successful instances of authorised policy. This study questions the inevitability of donor dominance in the aid relationship assumed by outside critics. It also questions the assumption of much inside literature that the key to ownership lies in dialogue based on trust and openness. In QTRDP there was not much trust or openness between the recipient and the donor side, but compromises acceptable to all parties could always be negotiated. This study suggests that instead of assuming either dominance or mutuality of goals, development studies and aid practice would benefit from further study into the field realities of how development cooperation actually happens: how different actors in development strategize in their dealings with other agents, how they are constrained yet able to subvert the objectives of others, and how policies influence aid interventions and are influenced by them. Tämä tutkimus paneutuu omistajuuden ja ehdollisuuden käsitteisiin kehitysyhteistyössä. 90-luvulta alkaen omistajuudesta on tullut keskeinen opinkappale avussa. Ideana on, että epäonnistuneiden apuinterventioiden historiasta irti pääsemiseksi avunsaajien täytyy voimallistua ottamaan avun suunnittelu ja toteutus omiin käsiinsä. Samalla kuitenkin erilaisten avun ehtojen määrä jatkaa nousuaan. Myös Suomen kehityshankkeiden täytyy tukea paitsi omistajuutta, myös esimerkiksi köyhyyden vähentämistä, demokratisaatiota, desentralisaatiota, sukupuolten välistä tasa-arvoa, ympäristönsuojelua ja hyvää hallintoa, arvoja jotka eivät välttämättä saumattomasti istu vahvaan avunsaajamaan omistajuuteen. Avunantaja on ristiriitaisessa tilanteessa, jossa toisaalta tulisi luopua kontrollista, toisaalta pitää siitä kiinni. Empiirisesti tutkielma keskittyy Quang Trin maaseutukehitysohjelmaan (QTRDP), Suomen rahoittamaan kahdenväliseen kehitysyhteistyöhankkeeseen Keski-Vietnamissa. Tutkimustehtävänä on arvioida Suomen kehityspolitiikan toteutumista hankkeessa rahoittajaosapuolen näkökulmasta. Miten omistajuuden periaate ja toisaalta avun ehdot heijastuivat projektin käytäntöihin, ja toisaalta miten käytäntöjä tulkittiin politiikkatavoitteiden valossa? Ensisijainen tutkimusmateriaali koostuu 15 projektin kanssa joko ulkoasiainministeriön (rahoittaja) tai projektin toteutusta tukemaan palkatun konsulttifirman kautta työskennelleen ihmisen haastatteluista. Metodi oli empiirisen yksinkertainen: teemoitellut ja koodatut haastattelutekstit muodostivat analyysin pohjan. Tutkimukseen on löysästi sovellettu Olivier de Sardanin 'sotkuisen sosiaalisen logiikan' (entangled social logic) menetelmää, joka yhdistelee faktuaalista ja konstruktionistista näkökulmaa analyysiin. Tutkimus asettuu apusuhteen 'idealistisen' ja 'kriittisen' tutkimusperinteen luomaan kehikkoon. Ensimmäisen mukaan apu on jaetuille tavoitteille perustuvaa suunniteltua ja rationaalista toimintaa, jossa koetut ongelmat selitetään virheellisillä apuparadigmoilla. Tästä näkökulmasta omistajuus-agenda näyttäytyy hyödyllisenä aloitteena vallan siirtämiseksi avunsaajan suuntaan. Jälkimmäisen koulukunnan mukaan apu johtaa väistämättä avunantajan dominointiin eikä mikään poliittinen tai periaatteellinen retoriikka muuta tätä perustotuutta. Apukirjallisuudessa omistajuus ymmärretään ensisijaisesti valtana ja apuprosessien hallintana. Tässä valossa vaikuttaa ilmeiseltä että QTRDP:ssa avunsaajan (ensijaisesti provinssitason viranomaiset) omistajuus oli harvinaisen voimakas: useimmissa kiistoissa rahoittajan kanssa he vetivät pitemmän korren. Tätä edesauttoi omistajuus-politiikan luoma sisäinen kuri. Omistajuus-diskurssi ja sen keskeisenä osana avunantajan toimiin kohdituva kritiikki tekivät rahoittajan haluttomaksi avoimesti käyttämään rahan tuomaa valtaa. Mutta vähintään yhtä tärkeää oli avunsaajan poikkeuksellinen vahvuus ja heidän voimakas omistajuus-vaatimuksensa. Haastateltavien mukaan täyden hallinnan (täyden omistajuuden) antaminen avunsaajalle ei kuitenkaan ollut mahdollista: myös avunantajalla nähtiin olevan oikeus jonkinasteiseen hallintaan. Oikeutus muutamille selville rahoittajan painostuksesta syntyneille päätöksille kuten myös yleinen oikeutus projektin toteutukseen puuttumiselle löydettiin avunsaajan puutteista. Kuva itsestä rakennettiin vastakkaissuhteessa avunsaajaan, joka kuvattin korruptoituneena ja välinpitämättömänä ihmisten kärsimyksiä kohtaan – varsin sopimattomia ominaisuuksia Suomen kehityspolitiikan näkökulmasta. Rahoittajalla ja konsultilla oli siis suorastaan moraalinen velvollisuus puuttua apuvarojen käyttöön. Omistajuuden ja ehdollisuuden välinen tasapaino nähtiin hankkeessa kaiken kaikkiaan melko hyvänä. Avunsaajan omistajuus oli ollut jonkin verran Suomen avun ehtoihin paneutumista vahvempaa, mutta kaikissa asioissa koettiin kuitenkin edistytyn. Vietnamilainen hallinta esitettiin omistajuutena ja avunantajapuolen painostustoimet Suomen avun tavoitteiden välttämättömänä ajamisena. Sillä tavoin molemmat, sekä omistajuutta että ehdollisuutta tukevat toimet, pystyttiin esittämään menestyksekkäänä Suomen apupolitiikan toteuttamisena. Tutkielma kyseenalaistaa apukriittisen koulukunnan oletuksen avunantajan väistämättömästä dominoinnista apusuhteessa. Se kyseenalaistaa myös instrumentaalisen koulukunnan oletuksen, jonka mukaan omistajuuteen päästään luottamukseen ja avoimuuteen perustuvan dialogin kautta. QTRDP:ssa avunantajapuolen ja avunsaajapuolen väliltä ei juuri löytynyt avoimuutta tai luottamusta, mutta siitä huolimatta osapuolia tyydyttäviä kompromisseja pystyttiin aina löytämään. Tulokset viittaavat siihen, että dominoinnin tai vaihtoehtoisesti yhtenevien tavoitteiden olettamisen sijaan kehitysyhteistyön tutkimisessa olisi syytä paneutua syvällisemmin apusuhteiden kenttätodellisuuteen: eri toimijoiden taktiikoihin sekä siihen, miten omat ja muiden tavoitteet rajoittavat (ja mahdollistavat) toimintaa ja miten niiden toteutumista toisaalta rajoitetaan.
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Theory Talk #75: Tarak Barkawi on IR after the West, and why the best work in IR is often found at its marginsIn this Talk, Tarak Barkawi discusses the importance of the archive and real-world experiences, at a time of growing institutional constraints. He reflects on the growing rationalization and "schoolification" of the academy, a disciplinary and epistemological politics institutionalized within a university audit culture, and the future of IR in a post-COVID world. He also discusses IR's contorted relationship to the archive, and explore future sites of critical innovation and inquiry, including the value of knowledge production outside of the academy. PDF version of this TalkSo what is, or should be, according to you, the biggest challenge, or principal debate in critical social sciences and history?Right now, despite thinking about it, I don't have an answer to that question. Had you asked me five years ago, I would have said, without hesitation, Eurocentrism. There's a line in Chakrabarty's Provincializing Europe where he remarks that Europe has already been provincialized by history, but we still needed to provincialize it intellectually in the social sciences. Both sides of this equation have intensified in recent years. Amid a pandemic, in the wreckage of neoliberalism, in the wake of financial crisis, the defeats in Iraq and Afghanistan, the events of the Trump Presidency, and the return of the far right, the West feels fundamentally reduced in stature. The academy, meanwhile, has moved on from the postcolonial to the decolonial with its focus on alternative epistemologies, about which I am more ambivalent intellectually and politically. Western states and societies are powerful and rich, their freedoms attractive, and most of them will rebound. But what does it mean for the social sciences and other Western intellectual traditions which trace their heritage to the European Enlightenments that the West may no longer be 'the West', no longer the metropole of a global order more or less controlled by its leading states? What kind of implications does the disassembling of the West in world history have for social and political inquiry? I don't have an answer to that. Speaking more specifically about IR, we are dealing now with conservative appropriations of Eurocentrism, with the rise of other civilizational IRs (Chinese, European, Indian). These kinds of moves, like the decolonial one, foreground ultimately incommensurable systems of knowing and valuing, at best, and at worst are Eurocentrism with the signs reversed, usually to China. I do not think what we should be doing right now in the academy is having Chinese social sciences, Islamic social sciences, Indian social sciences, and so on. But that's definitely one way in which the collapse of the West is playing out intellectually. How did you arrive at where you currently are in your thinking about International Relations?By the time you get to my age you have a lot of debt, mostly to students, to old teachers and supervisors, and to colleagues and friends. University scholars tend not to have very exciting lives, so I don't have much to offer in the way of events. But I can give you an experience that I do keep revisiting when I reflect on the directions I've taken and the things I've been interested in. When I was in high school, I took a university course taught by Daniel Ellsberg, of the Pentagon Papers. As many will know, before he became involved in the Vietnam War, and later in opposing it, he worked on game theory and nuclear strategy. I grew up in Southern California, in Orange County, and there was a program that let you take courses at the University of California, Irvine. I took one on the history of the Roman Empire and then a pair of courses on nuclear weapons that culminated with one taught by Ellsberg himself. I actually had no idea who he was but the topic interested me. Nuclear war was in the air in the early 1980s. Activist graduate students taught the preparatory course. They were good teachers and I learned all about the history and politics of nuclear weapons. But I also came to realize that these teachers were trying to shape (what I would now call) my political subjectivity. Sometimes they were ham handed, like the old ball bearings in the tin can trick: turn the lights out in the room, and put one ball bearing in the can for each nuclear warhead in the world, in 1945 this many; in 1955 this many; and so on. In retrospect, that's where I got hooked on the idea of graduate school. I was aware that Ellsberg was regarded as an important personage. He taught in a large lecture hall. At every session, a kind of loyal corps of new and old activists turned out, many in some version of '60s attire. The father of a high school friend was desperate to get Ellsberg's autograph, and sent his son along with me to the lecture one night to get it. It was political instruction of the first order to figure out that this suburban dad had been a physics PhD at Berkley in the late '60s and early '70s, demonstrating against the Vietnam War. But now he worked for a major aerospace defense contractor. He had a hot tub in his backyard. Meanwhile, Ellsberg cancelled class one week because he'd been arrested demonstrating at a major arms fair in Los Angeles. "We stopped the arms race for a few hours," he told the class after. I schooled myself on who Ellsberg was and Vietnam, the Cold War, and much else came into view. Meanwhile, he gave a master class in nuclear weapons and foreign policy, cheekily naming his course after Kissinger's book, I later came to appreciate. I learned about RAND, the utility of madness for making nuclear threats, and how close we'd come to nuclear war since 1945. My high school had actually been built to double as a fallout shelter, at a time when civil defense was taken seriously as an aspect of a credible threat of second strike. It was low slung, stoutly built, with high iron fences that could be closed to create a cantonment. We were not far from Seal Beach Naval Weapons Station and a range of other likely targets. All of this sank in as I progressed in these courses. Then one day at a strip mall bookstore, I discovered Noam Chomsky's US foreign policy books and never looked back. At Cambridge, I caught the tail end of the old Centre of International Studies, originally started by an intelligence historian and explicitly multi-disciplinary. It had, in my time, historians, lawyers, area studies, development studies, political theory and history of thought, and IR scholars and political scientists. Boundaries certainly existed out there in the disciplines. But there weren't substantial institutional obstacles to thinking across them, while interdisciplinary environments gave you lots of local resources (i.e. colleagues and students) for thinking and reading creatively. What would a student need to become a kind of specialist in your kind of area or field or to understand the world in a global way? Lots of history, especially other peoples' histories; to experience what it's like to see the world from a different place than where you grew up, so that the foreign is not an abstraction to you. I think another route that can create very interesting scholars is to have a practitioner career first, in development, the military, a diplomatic corps, NGOs, whatever. Even only five years doing something like that not only teaches people how the world works, it is intellectually fecund, creative. People just out of operational posts are often full of ideas, and can access interesting resources for research, like professional networks. How, in your view, should IR responding to the shifting geopolitical landscape? The fate I think we want to avoid is carrying on with what Stanley Hoffmann called the "American social science": the IR invented out of imperial crisis and world war by Anglo-American officials, foundations and thinkers. Very broadly speaking, and with variations, this was a new world combination of realism and positivism. This discipline was intended as the intellectual counterpart to the American-centered world order, designed, among other things, to disappear the question of race in the century of the global color line. The way it conceived the national/international world obscured how US world power worked in practice. That power operated in and through formally sovereign, independent states—an empire by invitation, in the somewhat rosy view of Geir Lundestad—trialed in Latin America and well suited to a decolonizing world. It was an anti-colonial imperium. Political science divided up this world between IR and comparative politics. This kind of IR is cortically connected to the American-centered world fading away before our eyes. It is a kind of zombie discipline where we teach students about world politics as if we were still sitting with the great power peacemakers of 1919 and 1944-45. It is still studying how to make states cooperate under a hegemon or how to make credible deterrence threats in various circumstances. Interestingly, I think one of the ways the collapse of US power is shaping the discipline was identified by Walt and Mearsheimer in their 2013 article on the decline of theory in IR. In the US especially but not only, IR is increasingly indistinguishable from political science as a universal positivist enterprise mostly interested in applying highly evolved, quantitative or experimental approaches to more or less minor questions. Go too far down this road and IR disappears as a distinct disciplinary space, it becomes just a subject matter, a site of empiricist inquiry. Instead, the best work in IR mostly occurs on the edges of the discipline. IR often serves as cover for diverse and interdisciplinary work on transboundary relations. Those relations fall outside the core objects of analysis of the main social science and humanities disciplines but are IR's distinctive focus. The mainstream, inter-paradigm discipline, for me, has never been a convincing social science of the international and is not something I teach or think much about these days. But the classical inheritances of the discipline help IR retain significant historical, philosophical and normative dimensions. Add in a pluralist disposition towards methodology, and IR can be a unique intellectual space capable of producing scholars and scholarship that operate across disciplines. The new materialism, or political ecology, is one area in which this is really happening right now. IR is also a receptive home for debating the questions thrown up by the decolonial turn. These are two big themes in contemporary intellectual life, in and beyond the academy. IR potentially offers distinct perspectives on them which can push debates forward in unexpected ways, in part because we retain a focus on the political and the state, which too easily drop out of sight in global turns in other disciplines. In exchange, topics like the new materialism and the decolonial offer IR the chance to connect with world politics in these new times, after the American century. In my view, and it is not one that I think is widely shared, IR should become the "studies" discipline that centers on the transboundary. How do we re-imagine IR as the interdisciplinary site for the study of transboundary relations as a distinct social and political space? That's a question of general interest in a global world, but one which few traditions of thought are as well-equipped to reflect on and push forward as we are.That's an interesting and forceful critique which also brings us back to a common thread throughout your work: questions of power and knowledge and specifically the relation between power and knowledge in IR and social science. I'm interested in exploring this point further, because so much of your critique has been centered on how profoundly Eurocentric IR is and as a product of Western power. Well, IR's development as a discipline has been closely tied to Western state power. It would seem that it has to change, given the shifts underway in the world. It's like Wile E. Coyote in the Road Runner cartoons - he's run off the cliff. His legs are still moving, but he hasn't dropped, yet. That said, there's no singularly determinate relation between power and the historical development of intellectual traditions. Who knows what kind of new ideas and re-imagining of IR's concepts we might see? As I say, I think one reflection of these changes is that we're already seeing North American IR start to fade into universal quantitative social science. As Hoffmann observed, part of IR's appeal was that the Americans were running the world, that's why you started a social science concerned with things like bipolarity and deterrence, and with analyzing the foreign policy of a great power and its interests and conflicts around the world. Nowadays the Americans are at a late Roman stage of imperial decline. Thinking from the command posts of US foreign policy doesn't look so attractive or convincing when Emperor Nero is running the show, or something altogether darker is waiting in the wings. IR is supposed to be in command of world politics, analyzing them from on high. But what I've seen over the course of my education and career is the way world politics commands IR. The end of the Cold War torpedoed many careers and projects; the 1990s created corps of scholars concerned with development, civil war and humanitarian intervention; in the 2000s, we produced terrorism experts (and critical terrorism studies) and counterinsurgency specialists and critics, along with many scholars concerned in one way or another with Islam. What I have always found fascinating, and deeply indicative, about IR is the relative absence until relatively recently of serious inquiry into power/knowledge relations or the sociology of knowledge. In 1998 when Ole Waever goes to look at some of these questions, he notes how little there was to work from then, before Oren, Vitalis, Guilhot and others published. It's an astounding observation. In area studies, in anthropology, in the history of science, in development studies, in all of these areas of inquiry so closely entangled with imperial and state power, there are long-running, well developed traditions of inquiry into power/knowledge relations. It's a well-recognized area of inquiry, not some fringe activity, and it's heavily empirical, primary sourced based, as well as interesting conceptually. In recent decades you've seen really significant work come out about the role of the Second World War in the development of game theory, and its continuing entwinement with the nuclear contest of the Cold War. I'm thinking here of S.M. Amadae, Paul Erickson, and Philip Mirowski among others. The knowledge forms the American social science used to study world politics were part and parcel of world politics, they were internal to histories of geopolitics rather than in command of them. Of course, for a social science that models itself on natural science, with methodologies that produce so-called objective knowledge, the idea that scientific knowledge itself is historical and power-ridden, well, you can't really make sense of that. You'd be put in the incoherent position of studying it objectively, as it were, with the same tools. IR arises from the terminal crisis of the British Empire; its political presuppositions and much else were fundamentally shaped by the worldwide anti-communist project of the US Cold War state; and it removed race as a term of inquiry into world politics during the century of the global color line. All this, and but for Hoffmann's essay, IR has no tradition of power/knowledge inquiry into its own house until recently? It's not credible intellectually. Anthropologists should be brought in to teach us how to do this kind of thing. You've been at the forefront of the notion of historical IR, and in investigating the relationship between history and theory – why is history important for IR?Well, I think I'd start with the question of what do we mean when we say history? For mainstream social science, it means facts in the past against which to test theories and explanations. For critical IR scholars, it usually means historicism, as that term is understood in social theory: social phenomena are historical, shaped by time and place. Class, state, race, nation, empire, war, these are all different in different contexts. While I think this is a very significant insight and one that I agree with, on its own it tends to imply that historical knowledge is available, that it can be found by reading historians. In fact, for both empiricism and historicism there is a presumption that you can pretty reliably find out what happened in the past. For me, this ignores a second kind of historicism, the historicism of history writing itself, the historiographical. The questions historians ask, how they inquire into them, the particular archives they use, the ways in which they construct meaning and significance in their narratives, the questions they don't ask, that about which they are silent, all of these, shape history writing, the history that we know about. The upshot is that the past is not stable; it keeps changing as these two meanings of historicism intertwine. We understand the Haitian revolution now, or the indigenous peoples of the Americas, entirely differently than we did just a few decades ago.That raises another twist to this problem. Many IR scholars access history through reading historians or through synthetic accounts; they encounter history by and large through secondary sources. One consequence is that they are often a generation or more behind university historians. Think of how Gaddis, for instance, remains a go to authority on the history of the Cold War in IR. In other disciplines, from the 1980s on, there was a historical turn that took scholars into the archives. Anthropologists and literary scholars used historians' tools to answers their own questions. The result was not just a bunch of history books, but entirely new readings of core questions. The classic example is the historical Shakespeare that Stephen Greenblatt found in the archives, rather than the one whose texts had been read by generations of students in English departments. My point here is that working in archives was conceptually, theoretically significant for these disciplines and the subjects they studied. For example, historical anthropology has given us new perspectives on imperialism. While there is some archival work in IR of course, especially in disciplinary history, it is not central to disciplinary debates and the purpose is usually theory testing in which the past appears as merely a bag of facts. In sum, when I say history and theory, I don't just mean thinking historically. I mean actually doing history, being an historian—which means archives—and in so doing becoming a better theorist. Could you expand on these points by telling us about your recent work on military history? I think that military history is particularly interesting because it is a site where war is reproduced and shaped. Military history participates in that which it purports only to study. Popular military histories shape the identities of publics. Staff college versions are about learning lessons and fighting war better the next time. People who grow up wanting to be soldiers often read about them in history books. So our historical knowledge of war, and war as a social and historical process, are wrapped up together. I hope some sense of the promise of power/knowledge studies for larger questions comes through here. I'm saying that part of what war is as a social phenomenon is history writing about it. It's in this kind of context that the fact that a great deal of military history is actually written by veterans, often of the very campaigns of which they write, becomes interesting. Battle produces its own historians. This is a tradition that goes back to European antiquity, soldiers and commanders returning to write histories, the histories, of the wars they fought in. So this question of veterans' history writing is in constitutive relations with warfare, and with the West and its nations and armies. My shorthand for the particular area of this I want to look into is what I call "White men's military histories". That is, Western military history in the modern era is racialized, not just about enemies but about the White identities constructed in and through it. And I want to look at the way this is done in campaigns against racialized others, particularly situations where defeats and reverses were inflicted on the Westerners. How were such events and experiences made sense of historically? How were they mediated in and through military history? I think defeats are particularly productive, incitements to discourse and sense making. To think about these questions, I want to look at the place of veterans in the production of military histories, as authors, sources, communities of interpretation. My sandbox is the tumultuous first year of the Korean War, where US forces suffered publically-evident reverses and risked being pushed into the sea. In a variety of ways, veterans shape military history, through their questions, their grievances, their struggles over reputation, their memories. This happens at many different sites and scales, including official and popular histories, and the networks of veterans behind them as well as other, independently published works. Over the course of veterans' lives, their war throws up questions and issues that become the subject of sometimes dueling and contradictory accounts. Through their history writing, they connect their war experience to Western traditions of battle historiography. They make their war speak to other wars. This is what military history is, and how it can come to produce and reproduce practices of war-making, at least in Anglo-American context. Of course, much of this history writing, like narrations of experience generally, reflects dominant ideologies, in this case discourses of the US Cold War in Asia. But counter-historians are also to be found among soldiers. The shocks and tragic absurdities of any given war produce research questions of their own. At risk of mixing metaphors, the veterans know where the skeletons are buried. They bear resentments and grievances about how their war was conducted that become research topics, and they often have the networks and wherewithal to produce informed and systematic accounts. So as well as reproducing hegemonic discourses, soldier historians are also interesting as a new critical resource for understanding war.This shouldn't be that surprising. In other areas of inquiry, amateur and practitioner scholars have often been a source of critical innovation. LGBTQ history starts outside the academy, among activists who turned their apartments into archives. Much of what we now call postcolonial scholarship also began outside the academy, among colonized intellectuals involved in anti-imperial struggles. Let me close this off by going back to the archive. There are really rich sources for this kind of project. Military historians of all kinds leave behind papers full of their research materials and correspondence. The commanders and others they wrote about often waged extended epistolary campaigns concerned with correcting and shaping the historical record. But more than this, by situating archival sources alongside what later became researched and published histories, what drops out and what goes in to military history comes into view. What is silenced, and what is given voice? We can then see how the violent and forlorn episodes of war are turned into narrated events with military meaning. What is the process by which war experience becomes military history?Given the interdisciplinary nature of your work, what field you place yourself in? And are there any problems have you encountered when writing and thinking across scholarly boundaries?In my head I live in a kind of idealized interdisciplinary war studies, and my field is the intersection of war and empire. Sort of Michael Howard meets Critical Theory and Frantz Fanon. This has given me a particular voice in critical IR broadly conceived, and a distinctive place from which to engage the discipline. The mostly UK departments I've been in have been broadly hospitable places in practice for interdisciplinary scholarship and teaching, so long as you published rather than perished. Of course, interdisciplinary is a complicated word. It is one thing to be multi-disciplinary, to publish in the core journals of more than one discipline and to be recognized and read by scholars in more than one discipline. But work that falls between disciplinary centers, which takes up questions and offers answers recognized centrally by no discipline, that's something harder to deal with. I thought after Soldiers of Empire won prizes in two disciplines that I'd have an easier time getting funding for the project I described earlier in the interview. But I've gotten nowhere, despite years of applications to a variety of US, UK, and European funders. Of course, this may be because it is a bad project! My point, though, is that disciplines necessarily, and even rightly, privilege work that speaks to central questions; that's the work that naturally takes on significance in disciplinary contexts, as in many grant or scholarship panels. I think another point here is the nature of the times. Understandably, no one is particularly interested right now in White men's military histories. What I think has really empowered disciplines during my time in the UK academy has been the intersection with audit culture and university management. Repeated waves of rationalization have washed over the UK academy, which have emphasized discipline as a unit of measurement and management even as departments themselves were often "schoolified" into more or less odd combinations of disciplines. Schoolification helped to break down old solidarities and identities, while audit culture needed something on which to base its measures. The great victory of neoliberalism over the academy is evident in the way it is just accepted now that performance has to be assessed by various public criteria. This is where top disciplinary journals enter the picture, as unquestionable (and quantifiable) indicators of excellence. Interdisciplinary journals don't have the same recognition, constituency, or obvious significance. To put it in IR terms, Environment and Planning D or Comparative Studies in Society and History, to take two top journals that interdisciplinary IR types publish in, will never have the same weight as, say, ISQ or APSR. That that seems natural is an indicator of change—when I started, RIS—traditionally welcoming of interdisciplinary scholarship—was seen as just as good a place to publish as any US journal. Now RIS is perceived as merely a "national" journal while ISQ and APSR are "international" or world-class. This kind of thing has consequences for careers and the make-up of departments. What I'm drawing attention to is not so much an intellectual or academic debate; scholars always disagree on what good scholarship is, which is how it is supposed to be. It is rather the combination of discipline with the suffocating culture of petty management that pervades so much of British life. Get your disciplinary and epistemological politics institutionalized in an audit culture environment, and you can really expand. For example, the professionalization of methods training in the UK has worked as a kind of Trojan Horse for quantitative and positivist approaches within disciplines. In IR, in the potted geographic lingo we use, that has meant more US style work. Disappearing is the idea of IR as an "inter-discipline," where departments have multi-disciplinary identities like I described above. The US idea that IR is part of political science is much more the common sense now than it was in the UK. Another dimension of the eclipse of interdisciplinary IR has been the rise of quantitative European political science, boosted by large, multiyear grants from the ERC and national research councils. It's pretty crazy, strategically speaking, for the UK to establish a civilizational scale where you're always behind the US or its European counterparts. You'll never do North American IR as well as the North Americans do, especially given the disparity in resources. You'll always be trending second or third tier. The British do like to beat themselves up. Meanwhile, making US political science journals the practical standard for "international excellence" threatens to make the environment toxic for the very scholarship that has made British IR distinctive and attractive globally. The upshot of that will be another wave of émigré scholars, which the British academy's crises and reform initiatives produce from time to time. Think of the generation of UK IR scholars who decamped to Australia, an academy poised to prosper in the post-covid world (if the government there can get its vaccination program on track) and a major site right now of really innovative IR scholarship. To return to what you mentioned earlier regarding the hesitancy to go to the archives, this is also mirrored in a hesitancy to do serious ethnography, I think as well. Or there's this "doing ethnography" that involves a three-day field trip. This kind of sweet-shop 'pick and mix' has come to characterize some methodologies, because of these constraints that you highlight…A lot of what I'm talking about has happened within universities, it's not externally imposed or a direct consequence of the various government-run assessment exercises. Academics, eagerly assisted by university managers, have done a lot of this to themselves and their students. The implications can be far reaching for the kind of scholarship that departments foster, from PhDs on up. More and more of the UK PhD is taken up with research methods courses, largely oriented around positivism even if they have critical components. Already this gives a directionality to ideas. The advantage of the traditional UK PhD—working on your own with a supervisor to produce a piece of research—has been intellectual freedom, even when the supervisor wasn't doing their job properly. It's not great, but the possibility for creative, innovative, even field changing scholarship was retained. PhD students weren't disciplined, so to speak. What happens now is that PhD students are subject to a very strict four year deadline, often only partially funded, their universities caring mainly about timely completion not placement and preparation for a scholarly career, a classic case of the measurement displacing the substantive value. The formal coursework they get is methods driven. You can supervise interdisciplinary PhD research in this kind of environment, but it's not easy and poses real risks and creates myriad obstacles for the student. A strange consequence of this, as many of my master's students will tell you, is that I often advise them to consider US PhDs, just in other disciplines. That way, they get the benefit of rigorous PhD level coursework beyond methods. They can do so in disciplines like history or anthropology that are currently receptive both to the critical and the transnational/transboundary. That is not a great outcome for UK IR, even if it may be for critically-minded students. Outside of a very few institutions and scattered individuals, US political science, of course, has largely cleansed itself of the critical and alternative approaches that had started to flower in the glasnost era of the 1990s. That is not something we should be seeking to emulate in the UK.So yes, there's much to say here, about how the four year PhD has materially shaped scholarship in the UK. There is generally very little funding for field work. Universities worried about liability have put all kinds of obstacles in the way of students trying to get to field work sites. Requirements like insisting that students be in residence for their fourth year in order to write up and submit on time further limit the possibilities for field work. The upshot is to make the PhD dissertation more a library exercise or to favor the kind of quantitative, data science work that fits more easily into these time constraints and structures. Again, quite obviously, power sculpts knowledge. It becomes simply impossible, within the PhD, to do the kinds of things associated with serious qualitative scholarship, like learn languages, spend long time periods in field sites and to visit them more than once, to develop real networks there. Over time this shapes the academy, often in unintended ways. I think this is one of the reasons that IR in the UK has been so theoretic in character—what else can people do but read books, think and write in this kind of environment? As I say, the other kind of thing they can do is quantitative work, which takes us right back to the fate Walt and Mearsheimer sensed befalling IR as political science. Watch for IR and Data Science joint degrees as the next step in this evolution. Political Science in the US starts teaching methods at the freshman level. They get them young. We have discussed the rather grim state of affairs for the future of critical social science scholarship, at least in the UK and US. To conclude – what prospects for hope in the future are there?Well, if I had a public relations consultant pack, this is the point at which it would advise talking about children and the power of science to save us. I think the environment for universities, political, financial, and otherwise may get considerably more difficult. Little is untouchable in Western public life right now, it is only a question of when and in what ways they will come for us. The nationalist and far-right turns in Western politics feed off transgressing boundaries. There's no reason to suspect universities will be immune from this, and they haven't been. In the UK, as a consequence of Brexit, we are having to nationalise, and de-European-ise our scholarships and admissions processes. We are administratively enacting the surrender of cosmopolitan achievements in world politics and in academic life. This is not a plot but in no small measure the outcome of democratic will, registered in the large majority Boris Johnson's Conservatives won at the last general election. It will have far reaching consequences for UK university life. This is all pretty scary if you think, as I do, that we are nearer the beginning then the end of the rise of the right. Covid will supercharge some of these processes of de-globalization. I can already see an unholy alliance forming of university managers and introvert academics who will want to keep in place various dimensions of the online academic life that has taken shape since spring 2020. Often this will be justified by reference to environmental concerns and by the increased, if degraded, access that online events make possible. We are going to have a serious fight on our hands to retain our travel budgets at anywhere near pre-pandemic levels. I'm hoping that this generation of students, subjected to online education, will become warriors for in-person teaching. All of this said, it's hard to imagine a more interesting time to be teaching, thinking and writing about world politics. Politics quite evidently retains its capacity to turn the world upside down. Had you told US citizens where they would be on January 6th, 2021 in 2016, they would have called you alarmist if not outlandish. I think we're in for more moments like that. Tarak Barkawi is a professor of International Relations at LSE. He uses interdisciplinary approaches to imperial and military archives to re-imagine relations between war, armed forces and society in modern times. He has written on the pivotal place of armed force in globalization, imperialism, and modernization, and on the neglected significance of war in social and political theory and in histories of empire. His most recent book, Soldiers of Empire, examined the multicultural armies of British Asia in the Second World War, reconceiving Indian and British soldiers in cosmopolitan rather than national terms. Currently, he is working on the Korean War and the American experience of military defeat at the hands of those regarded as racially inferior. This new project explores soldiers' history writing as a site for war's constitutive presence in society and politics.PDF version of this Talk
The Anthropocene as a new epoch brings into question the traditional modes of conceptualising International Relations. We believe that it does this by forcing students and practitioners of International Relations to think through how the discipline works as a set of ideas and practices, in fact, as a way of understanding the nature of problems and policymaking per se. As a discipline, International Relations is particularly sensitive to the questioning of the problematics of human exceptionalism, rationalist problem-solving and liberal modernist imaginaries of progress, which have shaped the agendas of international peace, development and democracy. Beyond the dark days of the Cold War, when International Relations was essentially a strategic exercise of Realpolitik, the discipline has staked a lot on the basis that Enlightenment liberalism is the universal panacea to human ills and that irrational structures or agencies can be civilised or tamed to further the interests of humanity, both in national or global regimes of good governance and the rule of law. These dreams of liberal universal solutions appear to have run aground in the Anthropocene as the last decade has marked a shift away from universal, modernist or 'linear' understandings of power and agency. In a world, construed as more complex, contingent and relational and replete with crises and unpredicted 'tipping points', traditional assumptions are up-ended and unintended consequences seem more relevant than 'good intentions'. Concomitantly, the methodological focus has switched away from understanding the essence of entities and towards privileging the analysis of relations, networks and contexts. Key to this has been debates focused around climate change and global warming which explicitly cast policy problems not as external threats to the 'good life' (that requires securing) but as instead questioning the starting assumptions of separations between inside/ outside, humanity/ nature, solutions/ problems and referents/ threats. This elicits a very different way of thinking. If natural processes can no longer be separated from the historical impact of human development and are no longer merely the backdrop to a purely human drama of domestic and international political contestation, then the modernist understanding of the nature/ culture divide, separating social and natural science, no longer holds. Nature can no longer be understood as operating on fixed or natural laws, while politics and culture can no longer be understood as operating in a separate sphere of autonomy and freedom. These assumptions, central to modernist constructions of progress, are seen to no longer exist or to have always been problematic. Thus, the Anthropocene is not merely a question of new or more pressing problems, such as climate change and extreme weather events, but also a matter of the tools and understandings that are available to us: in other words, it is a matter of how we know —of epistemology— and also of what we understand the world to consist of —i.e. questions of ontology. Consider, for example, the conventional understanding of security as the protection of a valued referent against external threats. The condition of the Anthropocene challenges such a notion of security. The Anthropocene as a condition, problematises easy assumptions about 'us' as the security 'referent' —as the object to be secured. The problematisation of 'us' —the privileged gaze of the Western policymaking subject— opens up a substantial set of problems which deeply impact the disciplinary assumptions of International Relations. This is expressed, for example, in Bruno Latour's concept of Earthbound people, i.e., an imaginary collective of people who consider themselves sensitive and responsive, due to being bound by and to the Earth. We are the problem as much as the solution, the 'them' as much as the 'us', the 'enemy' as much as the 'friend'. Accordingly, the Anthropocene condition calls for reflection upon —and ultimately transition away from— the idea of a separation between nature and humanity. To perform this shift in perspective, concepts such as "worldly" or "ecological security" have been proposed. Matt McDonald develops a notion "ecological security" through an engagement with existing discourses of climate security. According to him, established ways of thinking about climate security would reinforce a problematic nature-culture divide by either presenting climate change as an external threat to vulnerable human communities or, conversely, human actors as a threat to fragile nature in need of protection. Ecological security would instead focus on supporting and sustaining the long-term resilience of ecosystems —understood as entangled systems of both human and non-human elements. Ensuring that "ecosystems can continue to function in the face of current and future change" is accordingly, the only defensible approach to security in the condition of the Anthropocene. Similarly, a worldly approach to security stresses that threats such as war, major industrial accidents, or ecological collapse do not affect humans in isolation but rather endanger the common worlds co-constituted by humans and diverse nonhuman beings. Harrington and Shearing hold that security in the Anthropocene should become oriented towards an "ethics of care". Care, according to them, is able to emphasize the types of deep relational thinking that are so appropriate when discussing the Earth's ongoing and unknown patterns of interactions and responses. It allows one to see security as a radical entanglement between humans, non-human animals, plants, bacteria, materials and technology. Learning how to navigate this entanglement with care will be a primary task for International Relations in our Anthropocene world. This article is organised in three sections. Firstly, we introduce the concept of the Anthropocene. We refer to the Anthropocene as a condition that we are in rather than as an external set of problems which we are confronted with. Understood as a condition which we are in, rather than merely a set of strategic and tactical problems which we confront, the Anthropocene enables us to go beyond the traditional binaries of our disciplinary tradition. The second section provides some background to the disciplinary history of International Relations, here we seek to briefly flag up the importance of thinking the Anthropocene in relation to the history of the discipline, which could be understood as moving from an 'inter-national' or state-centred focus during the Cold War to a global set of much broader concerns from the 1980s to the 2000s, to an increased interest in the Anthropocene, understood as a 'planetary' challenge to the liberal universal assumptions that followed the decline of 'realist' hegemony. The third section focuses on the implications of the Anthropocene for three key themes: knowledge, governance and security.
In: Orient: deutsche Zeitschrift für Politik, Wirtschaft und Kultur des Orients = German journal for politics, economics and culture of the Middle East, Band 47, Heft 4, S. 460-483
Diese Dissertation nimmt enttäuschte Versprechen vom Zugang zur Stadt zum Anlass einer Untersuchung urbaner Formen von Kollektivität. Fahrpreiserhöhungen im öffentlichen Verkehr haben im vergangenen Jahrzehnt in Brasilien (2013) und Chile (2019) Massenproteste gegen den Abbau öffentlicher Infrastrukturen und die hiermit einhergehende Verschärfung von sozialer und räumlicher Ungleichheit ausgelöst. Diese urbanen Bewegungen bilden nicht nur den zeitlichen Rahmen der vorliegenden Studie. Ich verstehe die Proteste als Teil eines "Globalen Südens", der in den vergangenen Jahren zum Ausgangspunkt einer Reihe von Theorieansätzen in der interdisziplinären Stadtforschung geworden ist. Die südamerikanischen Massenproteste stehen hier beispielhaft für Formen urbaner Kollektivität, die sich dem bisherigen Verständnis städtischer Transformationsprozesse entziehen. Denn die Proteste haben Fragen aufgeworfen, die auf die Dringlichkeit einer Beschäftigung mit den Kräften, Bewegungen, Dingen und Affekten hinweisen, welche diese Kollektive zusammenhalten: Wie lässt sich das Bilden spontaner Allianzen zwischen Bewohner*innen mit konträren politischen Überzeugungen und sozio-ökonomischen Zugehörigkeiten begreifen? Und wie werden diese scheinbar unbeständigen und wechselhaften Kollektive handlungs- und widerstandsfähig? Ich nähere mich diesen Fragen über eine Untersuchung des Konflikts um die älteste elektrische Straßenbahnlinie Südamerikas, in Rio de Janeiro. Zwischen 2014 und 2019 habe ich in dem betroffenen innerstädtischen Stadtteil eine ethnologische Feldforschung durchgeführt, welche sich auf den jahrelangen Ausfall der bonde (Brasilianisch für Straßenbahn) und die lokalen Forderungen nach ihrem Wiedereinsetzen konzentriert. Bonding macht hier einen konzeptionellen Vorschlag, der den Schwerpunkt auf die Verbindungen zwischen Bewohner*innen und urbaner Materialität legt. Im ersten Teil der Arbeit zeige ich, wie die bonde selbst Formationen urbaner Kollektivität beeinflusst hat. Ich führe zu diesem Zweck zunächst den Begriff des re-assembling ein, der beschreibt, wie infrastrukturelle Dinge/Belange über einen Zeitraum von sieben Jahren eine heterogene Gruppe von Protestierenden im Stadtteil immer wieder neu versammelt haben. Dieser Formationsprozess basiert auf kollektiven Erfahrungen, welche die Bahn trotz ihrer Abwesenheit "präsent" werden – und sie nach ihrer Rückkehr als "abwesend" aufrufen ließen. Um dieser paradoxen Beobachtung zur Beharrlichkeit bestimmter Kollektive eine zeitliche Dimension zu geben führe ich den Begriff der premissory assemblage ein. Dieser verweist darauf, wie aktuelle Formationen von Kollektivität mit Imaginationen des Urbanen, verkörperten Erinnerungen, Ressentiments und Verlangen zusammenhängen, die wiederum eng mit der Geschichte von Straßenbahn-Technologie (in Rio und darüber hinaus) verwoben sind. Der zweite Teil der Arbeit entwickelt "bonding" als Konzept, um das urbane Paradox von flüchtigen und dennoch verlässlichen, von scheinbar stabilen und dennoch unverbindlichen Verbindungen zu versöhnen und so einen Beitrag zu der Frage zu leisten was die Stadt zusammenhält. Ich zeige hier anhand von drei Begriffen – material resistance, promissory things, loose bonds – welche Qualitäten der Verbindung es ermöglichen, das fragile Gleichgewicht kollektiven Lebens in dem von mir untersuchten Stadtteil aufrechtzuerhalten. "Material Resistance" zeigt, wie sich die Widerstandsfähigkeit der hundertjährigen bonde über subtile, habituelle Bewegungen auf die lokalen Bewohner*innen übertragen hat, und wie diese Verbindung sowohl revolutionäre Forderungen nach kostenlosem Transport als auch ein reaktionäres Festhalten an den (Bahn-)Eigenheiten hervorbringt. "Promissory Things" verweist darauf, wie bestimmte Elemente der Infrastruktur zur Elastizität von Verbindungen beitragen indem sie selbst Versprechen machen, die gerade aufgrund ihrer Unverlässlichkeit den Raum für Verhandlungen zwischen den unterschiedlichen Bewohner*innen, sowie zwischen diesen und den städtischen Autoritäten öffnen. Als "Loose Bonds" schließlich bezeichne ich Verbindungen, welche aus unbewussten, affektiven Dynamiken von Abscheu, Entkopplung, und Distanzierung entstehen – und auf die bestimmte urbane Kollektive angewiesen sind, um überhaupt zu bestehen. ; This thesis examines the emergence of urban collectivity in the face of infrastructural breakdown and the failed promises of access to the city. In Brazil (2013) and Chile (2019), mass protests against fare increases in public transport have contested the ways in which deteriorating urban services further aggravate conditions of social and spatial inequality for a majority of city populations. These new urban movements frame the present study, which conceives of them as part of a "South" that has become the source for a series of generative theorizing in the field of urban studies. The fare-protests are seen here as exemplary for forms of collectivity that elude existing understandings of urban transformation and endurance. In other words, they have raised questions that point to the relevance of academic engagements with the forces, movements, things and affects that hold urban collectivities together: How to make sense of the emergence of spontaneous alliances between people of conflictive socioeconomic backgrounds and political convictions? And how to account for the collective agency and persistence of ostensibly ephemeral and fluid formations? I approach these questions from a case of infrastructural breakdown that has catapulted one of Rio de Janeiro's popular central city districts into a decade-long period of suspension. Between 2014 and 2019, I have carried out ethnographic fieldwork to canvass the attitudes of residents about the loss and subsequent re-installation of their bonde – the Brazilian word for tramway. Bonding makes a conceptual proposal that takes the relations between people and material elements in the city as starting point for the emergence of urban collectivity. Re-assembling, as explained in the first part of this thesis, describes a formation through which infrastructural matters have brought together repeatedly over a period of seven years a heterogeneous set of protesters, forging temporary alliances between bourgeois and working-class residents of the neighborhood based on shared intensities of how the tramway could be "felt into being" during the period of suspension – and of how it could in turn be enacted as absent after its re-installation. To add a temporal layer to this observation about the tenacity of particular collectives, I introduce the notion of premissory assemblage, which designates a formation that evolves around the cultural legacy of tramways (in Rio and beyond) and that points to how urban imaginaries, embodied memories, collective resentments and desires that un/relate people and urban matters today are entangled with the history this particular technology. The second part of this thesis develops "bonding" as a concept, to reconcile the paradox of the seemingly solid and the yet transitory, of tight attachments and noncommittal relationships that I believe helps approach the question what holds the city together. I introduce the notion of material resistance here to point to how the micropolitical quality of relations between residents and the tramway has generated both revolutionary claims for fare-free transport and a reactionary holding-on to its peculiarities. Further exploring the elasticity of such relations, I show how the originally outspoken promise of tramway-return has become distributed across other infrastructural elements and how such promissory things have condensed temporal and spatio-affective dynamics of anticipation, speculation and deferral into a sense of togetherness that bolstered local ways of organizing collective life. Finally, I argue that particular formations that best be described as "urban majorities" manage to uphold their fragile balances through a simultaneous movement of care for looseness and by putting disrepair into action – and by this convey some of the collectivities that endure out of the way of urban politics redemptive enactments.
Hladni rat je predstavljao rat ideologija bez presedana u istoriji. Nijedan drugi rat, ni pre ni posle ovog višedecenijskog hladnog sukoba između Sjedinjenih Američkih Država i Saveza Sovjetskih Socijalističkih Republika, nije bio rat koji se vodio u tolikoj meri u sferi meke moći kao Hladni rat. Odsustvo neposrednog oružanog sukoba između Sjedinjenih Američkih Država i Sovjetskog Saveza učinilo je da se Hladni rat odvija kao takmičenje u sferi ekonomije, tehnologije i nauke, kao trka u nuklearnom i konvencionalnom naoružanju i kao svemirsko nadmetanje. Pored takmičenja u sferi tvrde moći, Sjedinjene Američke Države i Sovjetski Savez vodili su intenzivnu bitku u oblasti meke moći. Ovo je bio sukob između američke liberalno-demokratske ideologije i sovjetske marksističke ideologije. Svaka od ove dve zemlje težila je tome da ubedi građane one druge zemlje da je njen društveni i ekonomski sistem idealan i da je bolji i pravedniji od sistema njenog glavnog suparnika. Uzrok propasti Sovjetskog Saveza i komunizma u istočnoj Evropi nikada sa sgurnošću neće moći da bude određen. Okolnosti koje su dovele do raspada Sovjetskog Saveza, pada Berlinskog zida 1989. godine i urušavanja komunizma u Evropi ne mogu se svesti na skup vojnih, političkih, ekonomskih i društvenih činilaca koji su, nezavisno jedni od drugih, doveli do tektonskih promena u međunarodnim odnosima. Svi ovi činioci zajedno, isprepletani u kompleksnu mrežu poluga, učinili su da se Sovjetski Savez uruši i da Sjedinjenim Američkim Državama prepusti ulogu pobednika u Hladnom ratu. Pritom, Amerika nije bila samo vojni i ekonomski pobednik. Amerika je iz Hladnog rata izašla kao moralni i ideološki pobednik. Hladni rat predstavlja temu izuzetno velikog broja radova, ali mali broj tih radova se bavi analizom američko-sovjetskog sukoba u sferi meke moći. Stoga je cilj ovog istraživanja i rada rasvetljavanje, objašnjene i tumačenje poluga meke moći koje su Sjedinjene Američke Države institucionalizovale, pokrenule i upotrebile u ideološkoj borbi protiv Sovjetskog Saveza u vreme Hladnog rata. Međutim, Sjedinjene Američke Države nisu od svog nastanka u drugoj polovini 18. veka do Hladnog rata osmišljeno primenjivale svoju meku moć. Do Hladnog rata upotreba poluga meke moći bila praksa kojom su se Sjedinjene Američke Države bavile isključivo u vreme učešća u oružanim sukobima. Tek sa Hladnim ratom u Americi se javlja potreba za namenskom i osmišljenom upotrebom poluga meke moći. Odmah nakon Drugog svetskog rata Sovjetski Savez je počeo da vrši uticaj na druge zemlje šireći marksističku ideologiju i komunističke ideje. Osim širenja marksističke ideologije Sovjetski Savez je vodio i dobro osmišljenu kampanju protiv Sjedinjenih Američkih Država i američkog načina života. Američka administracija je kao odgovor na sovjetsku spoljnu politiku u periodu od 1946. do 1950. godine stvorila politiku obuzdavanja Sovjetskog Saveza i sovjetskog uticaja u svetu svim sredstvima. Ovo je podrazumevalo kako upotrebu poluga tvrde moći tako i primenu poluga meke moći. U to vreme u američkom društvu postojao je konsenzus o upotrebi političkih, vojnih i ekonomskih oruđa u borbi protiv Sovjetskog Saveza, ali je upotreba poluga meke moći bila predmet duge javne rasprave. Jedna od izuzetno važnih poluga meke moći su državni programi informisanja, odnosno ono što se u Sjedinjenim Američkim Državama smatra propagandom, a propaganda se od nastanka Sjedinjenih Američkih Država do danas smatra nečasnom delatnošću autokratskih režima. Sjedinjene Američke Države su u periodu neposredno nakon Drugog svetskog rata sprovele zakonske, institucionalne i strukturalne promene koje su omogućile trajno ustanovljavanje poluga meke moći zarad širenja američkih vrednosti, ideja i kulture i zarad ideološke borbe protiv Sovjetskog Saveza i sovjetske marksističke ideologije. Zakoni doneti u to vreme su na snazi i danas i pružaju okvir za mnogobrojne programe i aktivnosti na polju primene poluga meke moći po celom svetu. ; The Cold War was a war without precedent in the history. No war before this prolonged cold conflict between the United States and the Soviet Union was waged that much in the realm of soft power as the Cold War. In the absence of an immediate armed conflict between the United States and the Soviet Union, the Cold War was conducted as a competition in the areas of economy, technology and science, nuclear and conventional weapons, as well as the space race. Besides the competition in the realm of hard power, the United States and the Soviet Union pursued an intensive battle in the realm of soft power. This was a conflict between the American ideology of a liberal democracy and the Soviet Marxist ideology. Each of the two attempted to persuade the citizens of the other country that its social and economic practice was an ideal one, better and more just than the other one. The source of the collapse of the Soviet Union and communism in Eastern Europe will never be fully determined. The circumstances that brought about the break-up of the Soviet Union, the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, and the fall down of communism in Europe cannot be summarized as an aggregation of military, political, economic and social factors that independently from each other led to the colossal changes in the world order. All of these factors, entangled together in a complex net, caused the implosion of the Soviet Union which left the United States as the winner in the Cold War. Yet, the United States was not only a military and economic victor, it resurfaced as a moral and ideological champion, as well. The Cold Was has been a theme of numerous papers but only a handful of these papers tackled the American-Soviet conflict in the realm of soft power. Thus, the objective of this research and dissertation is to shed the light, explain and construe the instruments of soft power that the United States institutionalized, put into motion and deployed in the ideological battle against Soviet Union in the Cold War. However, since its birth in the 18th century until the Cold War, the United States had not wielded its soft power strategically. Up to the Cold War, the soft power instruments were used exclusively during the times when the United States was involved in an armed conflict. Only in the Cold War, the need for intentional and thoughtful use of soft power instruments emerged. Soon after the end of the Second World War, the Soviet Union got set off to exert its influence by diffusing its Marxist ideology and communist values. In addition to spreading its ideology, the Soviet Union led a well-planned campaign against the United States and the American way of life. From 1946 to 1950, in response to the Soviet policy towards the United States, the American administration coined the policy of containment of the Soviet Union and the Soviet influence in the world. The policy of containment included both the use of the instruments of hard power and of soft power. At that time, there was a consensus in the American society on the use of political, military and economic means in fighting the Soviet Union, while the use of soft power instruments was a subject of a prolonged public discourse. Government information programs, perceived as propaganda in the United States, have always been a very important soft power instrument, and propaganda has been considered by Americans to be a dishonest activity of autocratic governments. In the period right after the Second World War, the United States implemented legislative, institutional and structural changes that allowed for permanent establishment of the soft power instruments. These foreign policy instruments made it possible for the United States government to diffuse American values, ideas and culture and to wage an ideological war against the Soviet Union and its Marxist principles. The acts adopted at that time are in place nowadays, and provide a legal framework for numerous programs and activities in the realm of soft power.
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Jordan Branch on Google Maps, State Formation, and the International Politics of Cartography
The territorial underpinnings of international politics are as familiar as they are contested within the discipline of International Relations. While the presumed 'territorial trap' of the discipline has been attacked from many sides (see, for instance, Theory Talk #4), Jordan Branch is more interested in turning the question around.
His work has carefully addressed the historical constitutive effects of mapping practices and technologies on the subsequent transformation of practices of, and ideas about, rule and the international system. In this fascinating Talk, Branch, amongst others, discusses the significance of cartography for international politics, explores the effects that contemporary digital mapping might have on political spaces, and illustrates how innovations in mapping impacted on rule with the historical example of France.
Print version of this Talk (pdf)
What is according to your view the most important challenge facing global politics and what is/should be the central debate in the discipline of International Relations (IR)?
While there are many different debates going on at the same time within the discipline, the one that has interested me most is the relationship between ideas and practical or material factors. There is a very simplistic version of this dichotomy that has been debated to death in the constructivist versus rationalists debates, particularly in the American field of IR—an over-drawn distinction, as many have pointed out. I am more interested in actual explanations for the process, outcome, or phenomenon we're looking at. Rather than separating them out, I am interested in how the ideational and material relate to one another, how they fit together.
This relationship poses questions for my specific interest in technological change. We are experiencing fast-paced technological changes—for example, the information technology revolution—which can yield a natural yet incorrect assumption, namely, that this change will inevitably have some kind of major effect on, or interaction with, politics and, specifically, with international relations. This may be true, but it is too often assumed. Indeed, this raises another problem. Even if there is such an effect, is it something we'll be able to observe, let alone predict or explain, as it is happening? From my historical work on the role of maps in state formation, for example, it is quite evident that for people at the time, there was no way to see the impact maps had on the political/spatial/ideational constitution of the state.
The information technology (IT) revolution is the most obvious current example of dramatic technological change. Although it has been playing out for the last 20 or 30 years, it only continues to accelerate. Over the past couple of years, a lot of discussion has focused on 'big data' and what it implies for business, financial analysis, and the like. Of course, it also presents possibilities as a new tool for social science. But there is a danger here. There is a tendency of seeing new technological phenomena only in their material contexts, specifically focusing on possibilities for measurement, for example, thereby neglecting to think about the ideational. How do ideas about collecting and using data actually play into the collection and analysis itself? So while they are in practice always entangled, analytically, I find the distinction between the ideational and the material a very fruitful one, not so much as a debate between opposing fields, but as way to think about technological change.
How did you arrive where you currently are in your thinking about these issues?
It is funny—people often ask this sort of question, and I did not necessarily see a natural trajectory for my thinking or work until I began to look and think back. This interest in connecting technological and political change goes as far back as my undergraduate time at Stanford University, where I initially majored in mechanical engineering, and later switched to International Relations. While technology remained an important preoccupation, I became more interested in politics, history, and theory. So the interest formed into questions about the political implications of phenomena like technology. But this didn't happen instantly. Just before beginning my PhD at the University of California, Berkeley, I was planning to do comparative work on regime change and democratization. Then my older brother (Adam Branch), who is also a political scientist, gave me a copy of Hendrik Spruyt's The Sovereign State and its Competitors (1994), and he said: 'Hey you might like this!' So, I literally read that on a beach the summer before starting grad school—which may sound funny, but I sat down, read it, and found it fascinating. Yet I didn't immediately start thinking about these questions then. It took a year or two, when I started really thinking about what I wanted to work on. I came back to this work and realised these were the kind of questions I was interested in: the origins of the territorial state and its characteristics.
The interest in the state as a concept had been with me for slightly longer. As an undergrad my first introductory course to IR was taught by Stephen Krasner (Theory Talk #21). Krasner has strong views, and the class was very rigorous. A lot of his work focuses on the state and I think his framings influenced me early on. I don't entirely agree with some of Krasner's arguments about sovereignty, but these disagreements are more about the specifics of salient time periods or cases. Other work which influenced me early on was that of John Ruggie on territoriality. Indeed his approach became central as I was developing these questions myself. I also discovered a host of literature in political geography that turned out to be very interesting and useful.
So, one could say that my trajectory was really more focused on understanding the historical outcome of the territorial state than on what role technology, specifically maps, played in this process. The focus on technology, while existent from my engineering days, really began to materialize as a link missing from existing explanations of state formation. I was thinking about how we might be able to find some additional traction on these questions by including technology more prominently. It has certainly been part of some scholarship on state formation, as in Charles Tilly's work or William McNeill's on technological change and warfare. Surely, technology has always been in there, but the discussion has been centered on war fighting technology and maybe on transport, and only to a lesser degree on communication technology in the broader sense.
Another piece of work which triggered my focus on the relationship between the ideational and the material was Ron Deibert's book Parchment, Printing and Hypermedia (1997, read the 1995 PhD thesis that became the book here, pdf). He talks about internet communication technology but also about the printing press and the impact it has on the global distribution of power. Yet, only when I read this book for the second or third time just as I was finishing up my dissertation did I realize how much his framing had shaped how I formulated my thesis. He does touch on the role of mapping, but it is his elaboration on the way in which media informs how people think about the world which was spot on for me. For me, maps as a medium very importantly framed how people thought about and imagined the world in the past—but of course these questions about technology and its role in constituting the international political system, states, territorial boundaries, and so on are still relevant today.
What would a student need to become a specialist in global studies or understand the world in a global way?
I think it is important to be really excited and interested in your topic and what you want to do. The key thing is to enter a grad program that fits you in terms of your interests and to be willing to do whatever methodological training ends up being needed for your research project.
I think there's a tendency to look for a 'one size fits all' graduate training model, which does make sense at the initial level. Everyone should get a certain amount of background in a variety of methods, whether they'll end up using those or not. For example, I have not used quantitative methods in my own research, but I'm glad that I had to take classes on those methods in grad school. They give you the ability to understand work which may connect to your own but comes at it from a different angle. And you should always be open to a variety of methods. The key is to be able to understand a broad array of approaches, otherwise you won't be able to engage in broad conversations.
I also feel I gained a lot from exploring, and reading widely, from other disciplines such as history and sociology. I already mentioned political geography, which is really not too distant but, nonetheless, in the U.S. it sits in a different department. You might think that some work is 'on the other side of the fence' but it is important to be able to bring that work into your thinking.
The final thing is to be open and ready to change your mind, whether it is about the answer you're expecting to get to your question, or even changing the question itself. Obviously there is a certain point when you're almost done with a project where that might not be a good idea…. but if it is early on and it works and you can do it logistically, I think it is important to be willing to do that. Five years later you're going to be a lot better off.
So far, your work has been mainly historical. Can you explain the importance of 'looking back' for understanding contemporary international relations?
I think it is extraordinarily important and useful. A lot of us in this and other fields do see strong connections between today's politics and past events, institutions, and ideas. There is an important notion that we cannot engage meaningfully with the present if we do not understand its genealogy. That is certainly a driver for me in thinking about the origins of the state and territorial boundaries. It may help us to observe patterns we might see replicated or appear in some kind of altered yet recognizable form today. Indeed, it can help us think about where were might be headed.
Although I also hesitate here slightly: always looking to the past for the answers can be problematic. History can help us to observe patterns, dynamics, and maybe relationships that might tell us something about other periods or about contemporary international relations. But we should never do so thinking that the patterns are definitely going to be the same or are deterministic. I think one can look for patterns or relationships without automatically assuming that they have to apply everywhere.
Historical analysis can be problematic in its own right, because there is no way to discover or absorb the past 'as it really was.' All history is some kind of construction, whether it is based on contemporary or historical sources. Additionally, in the social sciences we often have to rely on secondary sources. That is not inherently a problem; this fact just introduces more variables to think about. Pure narrative purporting to capture 'what really happened' can be very problematic.
Given these disclaimers, it is useful to consider the past. I think what should be emphasized is that, specifically at the grad school level, students should be encouraged to dig a little deeper historically. They shouldn't hesitate to do that excavation work.
IR, it has been argued, rests firmly on a spatial or territorial understanding of politics. What constitutive role does territorial space play in IR and is that role based on historical fact or is it myth?
I like that question. I think it is actually both—sort of a myth and sort of a fact. In one sense, territory informs at least the state ideal (i.e., states as we think of them): it informs what the state is, the interests of states, and of course how we distinguish one state from another. And yet, while this is all inherently territorial, we also know that this is far from an accurate description of a lot of regions and places in the world. There are many different spatial ideas, practices, and organizations with political agency that are non-state or non-territorial.
But regarding the myth of state territoriality: I think it is important to point out there is a lot of detail in the 'conventional narrative' of the state, such as timing of when territoriality came about as pinpointed in Westphalia, that has been quite effectively debunked by a number of scholars in the last 10 or 20 years (scholars like Andreas Osiander or Benno Teschke, from different theoretical perspectives). This is a strongly supported finding. But it really hasn't penetrated the mainstream narrative very well. While we can gradually see a little more nuanced discussion in IR textbooks in the U.S., they more often than not will still start with 1648 and Westphalia.
We can now confidently say that states—states as we think of them now—did not appear in 1648, let alone earlier. This is especially true if we look at the specifically territorial or spatial aspects of statehood, which again are so central to how we think about the state internationally. The focus on defending cleanly demarcated linear boundaries and the idea of asserting absolute sovereign authority within those lines; this is really not consolidated until at least the 19th century. So, part of the myth is the timing and the how and why we have states.
But there still is a factual quality to territoriality in this story we tell ourselves about the foundation of the international system and the supposed creation of sovereign states. In a certain setting and for a certain period I think this describes the ideas and practices of international politics quite well. The most obvious example of this is 19th century Europe. While there are still ways in which it diverges from the ideals of the typical state system, in a lot of ways it actually did fit that. This happened at the same time as the development of modern Western historiography, and it was the setting for some of the traditional foundation of political science and IR. So we can see how one shaped the other: history-making and state-making. The singular territorial ideal of statehood from the 19th century has subsequently been applied to other issues, actors, and areas. Even if it does not fit exactly, it is applied today still and it is made to fit retrospectively much earlier periods, where it applied less well.
Ultimately, it is a powerful myth which has informed how we think about international relations to such a degree that we shouldn't just throw it out. Instead, we should think about exactly how it actually informs the way that international relations is understood and practiced. Practitioners and officials don't exactly read IR journals and base their decision-making on our knowledge production, but the basic ideas of states, boundaries, and territory which inform the practice of international relations—as well as the study of it—should be our concern.
You have looked specifically at how mapping has contributed to imagining and formation of the modern state system. Could you elaborate more on how something as technical as cartography matters for international politics?
I've argued in my recent work that early modern mapping technologies were really essential to the consolidation of the territorial state, particularly the specific territorial features of states today. Maps, which have been a popular medium over the past few centuries, really do shape how people understand the world and their place in it. This gets us back to the connection between the material and the ideational.
In early modern Europe a revolution took place, first in mapmaking technologies and, slightly later, in the ideas and practices of political rule, especially as it relates to territory. I argue this was really not a coincidence. How rulers and subjects conceived of rule and how rulers conceived of their realms was really altered as they increasingly used maps that depicted the world in this one particular way. The key characteristics of modern statehood – at least of the ideal of modern statehood – such as linear boundaries between homogenous territorial claims, really appeared first in maps and only subsequently in political practices on the ground. Of course, there were existing authority structures, but these were not particularly spatial or were not spatial in this linear demarcated way. Subsequently, however, these authority structures were ignored or sometimes even actively renounced in favor of the kind of authority which could be literally shown and drawn on a map.
It is interesting because initially, maps were not predominantly produced by rulers, states, or officials. They were certainly involved in sponsoring some mapping projects, buying maps, and using them, but mapmaking was more of a commercial private scientific enterprise, if we can apply the label 'scientific' in the 16th and 17th centuries. These map-makers certainly didn't have any articulated goal of changing politics, at least not on this broad level. They were really concerned with making money, maybe creating art, and advancing what they thought was a growing science of cartography.
We can however see that the map, as a technological artifact—maps as actual things—had an impact on the practices of rule both between rulers and between rulers and their subjects. I argue that this process occurred quite broadly across the European development of the international system at that time. And you can see this sequence really clearly in a case like France.
Let me illustrate that. Here are three maps of 'France' ranging from the 1400s to the 1700s—the quotation marks are necessary because the notion of there being one entity called France across this whole period is more a matter of us labeling it as such rather than it being one recognizable entity.
The first map is from a 15th century manuscript about royal and noble genealogy in France. The image is purported to represent 'all the realm of France' and shows the country as a collection of what I would call places rather than a single linearly demarcated space. You do have the notion of spatial boundaries here, in terms of rivers as means for demarcation. Yet, very clearly, the visual language of this map focuses on towns. And this is how rule was practiced and operationalized as well: negotiations would be over places, or maybe collections of people based on identity, jurisdiction, or where they were allowed to reside, but not in term of linear demarcations between claims.
Now look at the second map, which is just from about 150 years later, from the 1590s. It is from an atlas by a follower of Mercator, and its label Gallia is the Roman designation for France. From our modern perspective we can recognize something that looks a lot like a modern map of France. Maybe even a state, although the boundaries are not exactly like we would expect them to be. But this is the visual language of mapping that we are familiar with: longitude, latitude, spatial expanses colored in, homogenous territorial claims—there is something about the space depicted that argues that it is all the same, that is all France.
And despite this familiarity, it was actually far from an accurate depiction of French rule. Not just in the actual placement of the boundaries, which are contestable, but in the discrete nature of the boundaries themselves. Along these frontiers, so clearly demarcated on this image, the claims of the French king were often unclear and overlapped with those of other rulers. This was even true for the interior of France during this period.
The third map is another 150 years later, from the 1740s. This is from a map showing the triangulation of the realm, undertaken by a group of geographers, known as the Cassini survey, as several generations of the Cassini family headed up this effort. The realm is being mapped explicitly using geometric tools with the important emphasis that the image is actually meant to represent reality. It is understood that way: it's supposed to measure reality, in order to enable the French king to better understand what he rules. Moreover, this mapping took place at the same time that rule was being implemented in practice on the ground in terms of spatial expanses as we think of them, in the form of demarcating boundaries with neighbors which had previously been unclear, overlapping jurisdictions.
Although maps of the second generation (i.e., the map from the 1590s) were 'inaccurate,' they were extremely influential. They were widely distributed and purchased by the elite, both inside and outside of government. Using these maps provided rulers with this particularly new territorial meaning to their centralizing and bureaucratizing efforts. As a consequence, the use of these maps as material tools of governing and negotiation really changed the language of rule. Rule becomes cartographic, at least in part. When two opposing sides come to the negotiation table, for example, they at the very least have already agreed, implicitly, that the division should be a linear boundary—it is just a question of where.
By the time the third map is produced, the government is much more directly involved in map production using accurate geometrical measurement. Yet the very desire for this mapping was shaped by the earlier use of those commercial maps that built up the visual grammar of geometric space. The French case is useful because it is very well documented, but we do see the same sort of process repeated either simultaneously or later throughout Europe and also elsewhere. In fact, there is a lot of interesting scholarship on the introduction of mapping and modern geographic thinking into regions outside the West. Siam Mapped (1994), a book by Thongchai Winichakul, is a fantastic study that I found really useful for my thinking about Europe, even though it deals with Siam (Thailand) in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.
This is my story about mapping and territory, but I think there is a broader frame to your question: do we want to bring in these sort of technical factors into explanations in International Relations? And while we don't want to be technologically determinist, there is some useful thinking around technology and its effects we should consider. The impact of maps has been so strong, and yet they are such common artifacts that they are largely conceived of as 'unremarkable' outside of geographic-oriented disciplines.
So can we juxtapose this insight that mapping practices precede the practice of rule and state formation to the anthropological present, that is, what do the contemporary, some say radical, shifts in mapping techniques entail for international politics?
Absolutely. When I initially present my work, there is often an assumption that I use GIS in my study. Instead, my work focuses on analyzing mapping itself—maps as historical artifacts, their effects and their interaction with political identities, interests, and organizations. But I think the ways in which methodology and the subject of study overlap on subjects like technology could potentially contribute to stretching the boundaries of IR. The big data question is both a question of studying what big data means for politics but also how we can use big data to study politics. The way in which new technologies can simultaneously play into our methods and into our answers or questions is a pressing and fascinating issue.
For instance, there has been a lot of back and forth on the question of whether more open-access mapping techniques entail some sort of democratization. While I think we have seen that more participatory forms of mapping are possible, we shouldn't think that this type of mapping is completely open, as no technological system is completely open to anyone and everyone at all times. But, indeed, there is a democratization of mapping under way. Authorship in a whole host of domains, including mapping, is opening up where there used to be a single authoritative voice or at least a single type of authoritative voice. So maps are an example of this opening up and collective authorship. At the same time, accommodating more voices also means that a lot of information is being shared without authority or attribution or what we think of as a legitimate source… When you open a map from Rand McNally or National Geographic, you know that specific cartographers thought this was accurate and you can blame or praise them. But when you open up a layer of Google Earth that has been crowd-sourced you don't know who put that pin there, and you don't know why.
It's really interesting to explore a bit further how this is different from the recent past. In the 19th and first half of the 20th century, mapmaking was essentially state-led. The U.S. geological survey, the Ordnance Survey in Britain, or large mapmaking geographical institutions such as National Geographic represented the owners and producers. Mapping was so technical, so obviously technical that the everyday person would not be able to make a map to Rand McNally's standards. This has changed, and quite importantly so. Not only do we have the technology to do this, people are aware that they can use it as easily as opening a smartphone app, thereby incorporating more points of view. This is not necessarily good or bad. Politically, it does open up new possibilities. Maps have always been political, both implicitly and explicitly. It certainly opens up the possibility of some kind of broader shift in ideas about territory. Let me illustrate with an example. I haven't necessarily come across specific maps that present some completely novel visual grammar potentially reshaping the way we think about the world. But, an interesting example I like to bring to my students: there was a September 2011blog post on Google's Lat-Long blog (which is the company's blog about Google Maps and Google Earth). Its headline read: 'South Sudan is now official on Google Maps,' and it displayed a screenshot of the new boundary.
They changed their base layer by adding a boundary between South Sudan and Sudan. This of course followed the referendum and the UN's recognition, and all the traditional precursors to official statehood. South Sudan became a recognizable entity on that blog. Google Earth, a non-governmental actor, indeed a huge corporate actor—and thus not necessarily democratizing—becomes part of the discourse of declaring South Sudan's official existence.
This is an example of how things might be going. Interestingly, the whole enterprise of mapping today actually resembles more closely that of the 16th and early 17th centuries then that of the 19th or early 20th century, not technologically but organizationally. The state-centric view of the world was enforced by the state-authored mappings of the 19th and 20th centuries. Now, by contrast, there is a kind of shared or unclear authorship, there is crowdsourcing, there are multiple sources of conflicting and quite openly unreliable or uncertain information. This environment of rapidly increasing distribution and use also describes the creation of the early atlases in the late 16th century and early 17th centuries, which involved the collation of all kinds of information from multiple sources.
And of course it was in the 16th and 17th century when this sort of non-state-controlled mapping presented innovative images of the world—those images that ended up shaping and consolidating the state form of territory. And so it was these new tools for understanding and acting on the world which gave the state its territorial shape. As key information-producing activities are being opened up, some forms of power are being redistributed. This certainly means that we need to widen our scope in terms of whom we consider to be a stakeholder or what sort of actors we want to study. We know that the dichotomy of state versus non-state is not sufficient. We need to be subtler in our inquiries. In IR, of course, the stereotypical over-emphasis on states is being questioned, and this is really just one more sign that a piece of the power of the state, in this case map-production and distribution, is shifting elsewhere.
I recently had a conversation with students in my undergrad seminar on technology and international politics. I went into it saying: 'Hey, all this mobile mapping and GPS and Google Earth is totally revolutionary. This may change how we think about the world.' And they were all completely unconvinced, since they use these technologies all the time—to a bunch of twenty-year-olds these tools seem unremarkable. And maybe that is actually a more accurate analysis. But it is interesting how it is such a different analysis from that of my generation and anyone older, all of us who have spent a lot of time, for example, driving around without GPS. It is partly this perception and the 'unthinking usage' which make the relationship between technologies and social and political outcomes so difficult to observe. Our ideas may be changed, and especially the ideas of younger generations may be changed, without anyone particularly noticing how dramatic the changes might be. This also means that the connections, because they are 'unthinking,' can be quite foundational to people's ideas of social identities or political practices. They are tacit and embodied. That makes it both hard to observe but also an interesting puzzle. But it is worthwhile mentioning that the images presented by Google Maps and other digital mapping tools, particularly satellite imagery, might carry a greater legitimacy in terms of depicting 'the truth'. It looks like a picture of the world and therefore whatever is on it, even layered on data (like a new international boundary), must be true. It represents another apex of the scientific trajectory of mapping.
If it is just about adding a data layer on a base map that remains the same, does that then mean that ontologically this kind of mapping technology actually doesn't challenge territoriality?
That gets to an interesting point, which entangles with a lot of the more careful discussions of globalization and the state. One version of that is that the state is not dying, is not being destroyed. It is just that other things are being layered on top of it, and the state and its boundaries still remain and still matter for certain things. In this case, maps are perfectly capable of showing state boundaries—they look very fixed, very strong—but one can layer on top other types of information, maybe transactional flows or particular places that are connected in different ways.
I think that could be an interesting argument: these new mapping tools can really show so much, and it is matter of selecting what you want to show and unselecting things you don't want to show. Thus they don't do anything to undermine one particular view of the world. Now that is not necessarily a good or bad thing. If we look at the history of mapping and the origins of state territoriality, a key part of that was that it was really hard to depict medieval jurisdictional and personal notions of rule on early modern maps. Printing technology and mapping tools prescribed depiction in a certain way—drawing lines and coloring in spaces. Maps made it harder to show and thus think about the other forms of rule. If digital maps are still perfectly capable of showing states and their boundaries, they may do very little to undermine that notion of territory.
Finally, if we are interested in the politics of maps, to what extent do we need to study not only the maps as political artifacts but the mapmakers as political actors as well?
I think it is extremely useful to do both, and obviously if we study mapping today, we can do both. In terms of historical work, we can only rely on very limited sources, such as what mapmakers themselves wrote about what they were doing. We don't know a lot about their goals or ideas about politics. I would have loved to have been able to read exhaustive memoirs by mapmakers such as Ortelius and Mercator. Of course, they might not have said anything about the questions we are interested in. On the other hand, a lot of map-makers today are involved in mapping for explicit political reasons: for example, Ushahidi-type collaborative mapping (www.ushahidi.com), or humanitarian and relief mapping. Here we can dig into the question of how the maps produced relate to specific objectives. That is a great way to get more analytical leverage on a lot of these questions.
Jordan Branch joined the Political Science department at Brown as an Assistant Professor in summer 2012. He received his PhD in Political Science at UC-Berkeley in 2011, and spent 2011-2012 as the Hayward R. Alker Postdoctoral Fellow at the Center for International Studies at the University of Southern California. His interests include international relations theory, the history of the sovereign state system, contemporary challenges to statehood, and the intersection of technological and political change. In 2014, Cambridge University Press published his book, The Cartographic State: Maps, Territory, and the Origins of Sovereignty. His research has also appeared in International Organization and the European Journal of International Relations.
Related links
Faculty profile at Brown University Read Branch's Mapping the Sovereign State: Technology, Authority, and Systemic Change (International Organization 2011) here (pdf) Read Branch's Colonial Reflection' and Territoriality: The Peripheral Origins of Sovereign Statehood (European Journal of International Relations, 2012) here (pdf)
Print version of this Talk (pdf)
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Alexander Dugin on Eurasianism, the Geopolitics of Land and Sea, and a Russian Theory of Multipolarity
IR has long been regarded as an Anglo-American social science. Recently, the discipline has started to look beyond America and England, to China (Theory Talk #51, Theory Talk #45), India (Theory Talk #63, Theory Talk #42), Africa (Theory Talk #57, Theory Talk #10) and elsewhere for non-Western perspectives on international affairs and IR theory. However, IR theorists have paid little attention to Russian perspectives on the discipline and practice of international relations. We offer an exciting peek into Russian geopolitical theory through an interview with the controversial Russian geopolitical thinker Alexander Dugin, founder of the International Eurasian Movement and allegedly an important influence on Putin's foreign policy. In this Talk, Dugin—among others—discusses his Theory of a Multipolar World, offers a staunch critique of western and liberal IR, and lays out Russia's unique contribution to the landscape of IR theory.
Print version of this Talk (pdf) Russian version
What, according to you, is the central challenge or principle debate within IR and what would be your position within this debate or towards that challenge?
The field of IR is extremely interesting and multidimensional. In general, the discipline is much more promising than many think. I think that there is a stereometry today in IR, in which we can distinguish a few axes right away.
The first, most traditional axis is realism – the English school – liberalism.
If the debates here are exhausted on an academic level, then on the level of politicians, the media, and journalists, all the arguments and methods appear new and unprecedented each time. Today, liberalism in IR dominates mass consciousness, and realist arguments, already partially forgotten on the level of mass discourse, could seem rather novel. On the other hand, the nuanced English school, researched thoroughly in academic circles, might look like a "revelation" to the general public. But for this to happen, a broad illumination of the symmetry between liberals and realists is needed for the English school to acquire significance and disclose its full potential. This is impossible under the radical domination of liberalism in IR. For that reason, I predict a new wave of realists and neorealists in this sphere, who, being pretty much forgotten and almost marginalized, can full well make themselves and their agenda known. This would, it seems to me, produce a vitalizing effect and diversify the palette of mass and social debates, which are today becoming monotone and auto-referential.
The second axis is bourgeois versions of IR (realism, the English school, and liberalism all together) vs. Marxism in IR. In popular and even academic discourse, this theme is entirely discarded, although the popularity of Wallerstein (Theory Talk #13) and other versions of world-systems theory shows a degree of interest in this critical version of classical, positivistic IR theories.
The third axis is post-positivism in all its varieties vs. positivism in all its varieties (including Marxism). IR scholars might have gotten the impression that postmodern attacks came to an end, having been successfully repelled by 'critical realism', but in my opinion it is not at all so. From moderate constructivism and normativism to extreme post-structuralism, post-positivistic theories carry a colossal deconstructive and correspondingly scientific potential, which has not yet even begun to be understood. It seemed to some that postmodernism is a cheerful game. It isn't. It is a new post-ontology, and it fundamentally affects the entire epistemological structure of IR. In my opinion, this axis remains very important and fundamental.
The fourth axis is the challenge of the sociology of international relations, which we can call 'Hobson's challenge'. In my opinion, in his critique of euro-centrism in IR, John M. Hobson laid the foundation for an entirely new approach to the whole problematic by proposing to consider the structural significance of the "euro-centric" factor as dominant and clarifying its racist element. Once we make euro-centrism a variable and move away from the universalistic racism of the West, on which all systems of IR are built, including the majority of post-positivistic systems (after all, postmodernity is an exclusively Western phenomenon!), we get, theoretically for now, an entirely different discipline—and not just one, it seems. If we take into account differences among cultures, there can be as many systems of IR as there are cultures. I consider this axis extremely important.
The fifth axis, outlined in less detail than the previous one, is the Theory of a Multipolar World vs. everything else. The Theory of a Multipolar World was developed in Russia, a country that no one ever took seriously during the entire establishment of IR as a discipline—hence the fully explainable skepticism toward the Theory of a Multipolar World.
The sixth axis is IR vs. geopolitics. Geopolitics is usually regarded as secondary in the context of IR. But gradually, the epistemological potential of geopolitics is becoming more and more obvious, despite or perhaps partially because of the criticism against it. We have only to ask ourselves about the structure of any geopolitical concept to discover the huge potential contained in its methodology, which takes us to the very complex and semantically saturated theme of the philosophy and ontology of space.
If we now superimpose these axes onto one another, we get an extremely complex and highly interesting theoretical field. At the same time, only one axis, the first one, is considered normative among the public, and that with the almost total and uni-dimensional dominance of IR liberalism. All the wealth, 'scientific democracy', and gnoseological pluralism of the other axes are inaccessible to the broad public, robbing and partly deceiving it. I call this domination of liberalism among the public the 'third totalitarianism', but that is a separate issue.
How did you arrive at where you currently are in your thinking about IR?
I began with Eurasianism, from which I came to geopolitics (the Eurasianist Petr Savitskii quoted the British geopolitician Halford Mackinder) and remained for a long time in that framework, developing the theme of the dualism of Land and Sea and applying it to the actual situation That is how the Eurasian school of geopolitics arose, which became not simply the dominant, but the only school in contemporary Russia. As a professor at Moscow State University, for six years I was head of the department of the Sociology of International Relations, which forced me to become professionally familiar with the classical theories of IR, the main authors, approaches, and schools. Because I have long been interested in postmodernism in philosophy (I wrote the book Post-philosophy on the subject), I paid special attention to post-positivism in IR. That is how I came to IR critical theory, neo-Gramscianism, and the sociology of IR (John Hobson, Steve Hobden, etc.). I came to the Theory of a Multipolar World, which I eventually developed myself, precisely through superimposing geopolitical dualism, Carl Schmitt's theory of the Grossraum, and John Hobson's critique of Western racism and the euro-centrism of IR.
In your opinion, what would a student need in order to become a specialist in IR?
In our interdisciplinary time, I think that what is most important is familiarity with philosophy and sociology, led by a paradigmatic method: the analysis of the types of societies, cultures, and structures of thought along the line Pre-Modernity – Modernity – Post-Modernity. If one learns to trace semantic shifts in these three epistemological and ontological domains, it will help one to become familiar with any popular theories of IR today. Barry Buzan's (Theory Talk #35) theory of international systems is an example of such a generalizing and very useful schematization. Today an IR specialist must certainly be familiar with deconstruction and use it at least in its elementary form. Otherwise, there is a great danger of overlooking what is most important.
Another very important competence is history and political science. Political science provides generalizing, simplifying material, and history puts schemas in their context. I would only put competence in the domain of economics and political economy in third place, although today no problem in IR can be considered without reference to the economic significance of processes and interactions. Finally, I would earnestly recommend to students of IR to become familiar, as a priority, with geopolitics and its methods. These methods are much simpler than theories of IR, but their significance is much deeper. At first, geopolitical simplifications produce an instantaneous effect: complex and entangled processes of world politics are rendered transparent and comprehensible in the blink of an eye. But to sort out how this effect is achieved, a long and serious study of geopolitics is required, exceeding by far the superficiality that limits critical geopolitics (Ó Tuathail et. al.): they stand at the beginning of the decipherment of geopolitics and its full-fledged deconstruction, but they regard themselves as its champions. They do so prematurely.
What does it entail to think of global power relations through a spatial lens ('Myslit prostranstvom')?
This is the most important thing. The entire philosophical theme of Modernity is built on the dominance of time. Kant already puts time on the side of the subject (and space on the side of the body, continuing the ideas of Descartes and even Plato), while Husserl and Heidegger identify the subject with time altogether. Modernity thinks with time, with becoming. But since the past and future are rejected as ontological entities, thought of time is transformed into thought of the instant, of that which is here and now. This is the basis for the ephemeral understanding of being. To think spatially means to locate Being outside the present, to arrange it in space, to give space an ontological status. Whatever was impressed in space is preserved in it. Whatever will ripen in space is already contained in it. This is the basis for the political geography of Friedrich Ratzel and subsequent geopoliticians. Wagner's Parsifal ends with the words of Gurnemanz: 'now time has become space'. This is a proclamation of the triumph of geopolitics. To think spatially means to think in an entirely different way [topika]. I think that postmodernity has already partly arrived at this perspective, but has stopped at the threshold, whereas to cross the line it is necessary to break radically with the entire axiomatic of Modernity, to really step over Modernity, and not to imitate this passage while remaining in Modernity and its tempolatry. Russian people are spaces [Russkie lyudi prostranstva], which is why we have so much of it. The secret of Russian identity is concealed in space. To think spatially means to think 'Russian-ly', in Russian.
Geopolitics is argued to be very popular in Russia nowadays. Is geopolitics a new thing, from the post-Cold War period, or not? And if not, how does current geopolitical thinking differ from earlier Soviet (or even pre-soviet) geopolitics?
It is an entirely new form of political thought. I introduced geopolitics to Russia at the end of the 80s, and since then it has become extremely popular. I tried to find some traces of geopolitics in Russian history, but besides Vandam, Semyonov-Tyan-Shansky, and a few short articles by Savitskii, there was nothing. In the USSR, any allusion to geopolitics was punished in the harshest way (see the 'affair of the geopoliticians' of the economic geographer Vladimir Eduardovich Den and his group). At the start of the 90s, my efforts and the efforts of my followers and associates in geopolitics (=Eurasianism) filled the worldview vacuum that formed after the end of Soviet ideology. At first, this was adopted without reserve by the military (The Military Academy of the General Staff of the Armed Forces of Russia), especially under Igor Rodionov. Then, geopolitics began to penetrate into all social strata. Today, this discipline is taught in the majority of Russian universities. So, there was no Soviet or pre-Soviet geopolitics. There is only the contemporary Eurasian school, which took shape at the end of the 80s. Foundations of Geopolitics was the first programmatic text of this school, although I had published most of texts in that book earlier, and some of them were circulated as texts in government circles. Recently, in 2012, I released two new textbooks: Geopolitics and The Geopolitics of Russia, which together with The War of Continents are the results of work in this field, along four axes.
In your book International Relations, not yet published in English, you set out your Theory of a Multipolar World as a distinct IR theory. What are the basic components of the Theory of a Multipolar World—and how is it different from classical realism?
In order to be understood and not get into the details, I can say that the Theory of a Multipolar World seriously and axiomatically adopts Samuel Huntington's thesis about the plurality of civilizations. Russia has its own author, who claimed the same thing more than a hundred years ago: Nikolay Danilevsky, and then the Eurasianists. However, everything starts from precisely this point: civilization is not one, but many. Western civilization's pretension to universalism is a form of the will to domination and an authoritarian discourse. It can be taken into account but not believed. It is nothing other than a strategy of suppression and hegemony. The following point follows: we must move from thinking in terms of one civilization (the racism of euro-centric versions of IR) to a pluralism of subjects. However, unlike realists, who take as the subject of their theory nation-states, which are themselves products of the European, bourgeois, modern understanding of the Political, the Theory of a Multipolar World proposes to take civilizations as subjects. Not states, but civilizations. I call them 'large politeiai', or civilizations, corresponding to Carl Schmitt's 'large spaces'. As soon as we take these civilizations—'large politeiai'—as subjects, we can then apply to them the full system of premises of realism: anarchy in the international system, sovereignty, the rationality of egoistic behavior, etc. But within these 'politeiai', by contrast, a principle more resembling liberalism, with its pacifism and integration, operates, only with the difference that here we are not talking about a 'planetary' or 'global' world, but about an intra-civilizational one; not about global integration, but about regional integration, strictly within the context of civilizational borders. Post-positivism, in turn, helps here for the deconstruction of the authoritarian discourse of the West, which masks its private interests by 'universal values', and also for the reconstruction of civilizational identity, including with the help of technological means: civilizational elites, civilizational media, civilizational economic algorithms and corporations, etc. That is the general picture.
Your theory of multipolarity is directed against the intellectual, political, and social hegemony of the West. At the same time, while drawing on the tools of neo-Marxist analysis and critical theory, it does not oppose Western hegemony 'from the left', as those approaches do, but on the basis of traditionalism (Rene Guenon, Julius Evola), cultural anthropology, and Heideggerian phenomenology, or 'from the right'. Do you think that such an approach can appeal to Anglo-American IR practitioners, or is it designed to appeal mainly to non-Western theorists and practitioners? In short, what can IR theorists in the West learn from the theory of multipolarity?
According to Hobson's entirely correct analysis, the West is based on a fundamental sort of racism. There is no difference between Lewis Morgan's evolutionistic racism (with his model of savagery, barbarism, civilization) and Hitler's biological racism. Today the same racism is asserted without a link to race, but on the basis of the technological modes and degrees of modernization and progress of societies (as always, the criterion "like in the West" is the general measure). Western man is a complete racist down to his bones, generalizing his ethnocentrism to megalomaniacal proportions. Something tells me that he is impossible to change. Even radical critiques of Western hegemony are themselves deeply infected by the racist virus of universalism, as Edward Said showed with the example of 'orientalism', proving that the anticolonial struggle is a form of that very colonialism and euro-centrism. So the Theory of a Multipolar World will hardly find adherents in the Western world, unless perhaps among those scholars who are seriously able to carry out a deconstruction of Western identity, and such deconstruction assumes the rejection of both Right (nationalistic) and Left (universalistic and progressivist) clichés. The racism of the West always acquires diverse forms. Today its main form is liberalism, and anti-liberal theories (most on the Left) are plagued by the same universalism, while Right anti-liberalisms have been discredited. That is why I appeal not to the first political theory (liberalism), nor the second (communism, socialism), nor to the third (fascism, Nazism), but to something I call the Fourth Political Theory (or 4PT), based on a radical deconstruction of the subject of Modernity and the application of Martin Heidegger's existential analytic method.
Traditionalists are brought in for the profound critique of Western Modernity, for establishing the plurality of civilizations, and for rehabilitating non-Western (pre-modern) cultures. In Russia and Asian countries, the Theory of a Multipolar World is grasped easily and naturally; in the West, it encounters a fully understandable and fully expected hostility, an unwillingness to study it carefully, and coarse slander. But there are always exceptions.
What is the Fourth Political Theory (4PT) and how is it related to the Theory of a Multipolar World and to your criticism of the prevailing theoretical approaches in the field of IR?
I spoke a little about this in the response to the previous question. The Fourth Political Theory is important for getting away from the strict dominance of modernity in the sphere of the Political, for the relativization of the West and its re-regionalization. The West measures the entire history of Modernity in terms of the struggle of three political ideologies for supremacy (liberalism, socialism, and nationalism). But since the West does not even for a moment call into question the fact that it thinks for all humanity, it evaluates other cultures and civilizations in the same way, without considering that in the best case the parallels to these three ideologies are pure simulacra, while most often there simply are no parallels. If liberalism won the competition of the three ideologies in the West at the end of the 20th century, that does not yet mean that this ideology is really universal on a world scale. It isn't at all. This episode of the Western political history of modernity may be the fate of the West, but not the fate of the world. So other principles of the political are needed, beyond liberalism, which claims global domination (=the third totalitarianism), and its failed alternatives (communism and fascism), which are historically just as Western and modern as liberalism. This explains the necessity of introducing a Fourth Political Theory as a political frame for the correct basis of a Theory of a Multipolar World. The Fourth Political Theory is the direct and necessary correlate of the Theory of a Multipolar World in the domain of political theory.
Is IR an American social science? Is Russian IR as an academic field a reproduction of IR as an American academic field? If not, how is IR in Russia specifically Russian?
IR is a Western scientific discipline, and as such it has a prescriptive, normative vector. It not only studies the West's dominance, it also produces, secures, defends, and propagandizes it. IR is undoubtedly an imperious authoritarian discourse of Western civilization, in relation to itself and all other areas of the planet. Today the US is the core of the West, so naturally in the 20th century IR became more and more American as the US moved toward that status (it began as an English science). It is the same with geopolitics, which migrated from London to Washington and New York together with the function of a global naval Empire. As with all other sciences, IR is a form of imperious violence, embodying the will to power in the will to knowledge (as Michel Foucault explained). IR in Russia remains purely Western, with one detail: in the USSR, IR as such was not studied. Marxism in IR did not correspond to Soviet reality, where after Stalin a practical form of realism (not grounded theoretically and never acknowledged) played a big role—only external observers, like the classical realist E.H. Carr, understood the realist essence of Stalinism in IR. So IR was altogether blocked. The first textbooks started to appear only in the 90s and in the fashion of the day they were all liberal. That is how it has remained until now. The peculiarity of IR in Russia today lies in the fact that there is no longer anything Russian there; liberalism dominates entirely, a correct account of realism is lacking, and post-positivism is almost entirely disregarded. The result is a truncated, aggressively liberal and extremely antiquated version of IR as a discipline. I try to fight that. I recently released an IR textbook with balanced (I hope) proportions, but it is too early to judge the result.
Stephen Walt argued in a September article in Foreign Policy that Russia 'is nowhere near as threatening as the old Soviet Union', in part because Russia 'no longer boasts an ideology that can rally supporters worldwide'. Do you agree with Walt's assessment?
There is something to that. Today, Russia thinks of itself as a nation-state. Putin is a realist; nothing more. Walt is right about that. But the Theory of a Multipolar World and the Fourth Political Theory, as well as Eurasianism, are outlines of a much broader and large-scale ideology, directed against Western hegemony and challenging liberalism, globalization, and American strategic dominance. Of course, Russia as a nation-state is no competition for the West. But as the bridgehead of the Theory of a Multipolar World and the Fourth Political Theory, it changes its significance. Russian policies in the post-Soviet space and Russia's courage in forming non-Western alliances are indicators. For now, Putin is testing this conceptual potential very gingerly. But the toughening of relations with the West and most likely the internal crises of globalization will at some point force a more careful and serious turn toward the creation of global alternative alliances. Nevertheless, we already observe such unions: The Shanghai Cooperation Organization, BRICS, the Eurasian Union—and they require a new ideology. Not one like Marxism, any universalism is excluded, but also not simple realist maneuvers of regional hegemons. Liberalism is a global challenge. The response to it should also be global. Does Putin understand this? Honestly, I don't know. Sometimes it seems he does, and sometimes it seems he doesn't.
Vladimir Putin recently characterized the contemporary world order as follows: 'We have entered a period of differing interpretations and deliberate silences in world politics. International law has been forced to retreat over and over by the onslaught of legal nihilism. Objectivity and justice have been sacrificed on the altar of political expediency. Arbitrary interpretations and biased assessments have replaced legal norms. At the same time, total control of the global mass media has made it possible when desired to portray white as black and black as white'. Do you agree with this assessment? If so, what is required as a response to this international situation?
These are true, but rather naïve words. Putin is just indignant that the West establishes rules in its own interests, changes them when necessary, and interprets allegedly 'universal norms' in its own favor. But the issue is that this is the structure of the will to power and the very organization of logo-phallo-phono-centric discourse. Objectivity and justice are not possible so long as speech is a monologue. The West does not know and does not recognize the other. But this means that everything will continue until this other wins back the right to recognition. And that is a long road. The point of the Theory of a Multipolar World is that there are no rules established by some one player. Rules must be established by centers of real power. The state today is too small for that; hence the conclusion that civilizations should be these centers. Let there be an Atlantic objectivity and Western justice. A Eurasian objectivity and Russian justice will counter them. And the Chinese world or Pax Sinica [world/peace: same word in Russian] will look different than the Islamic one. Black and white are not objective evaluations. They depend on the structure of the world order: what is black and what is white is determined by one who has enough power to determine it.
How does your approach help us understand Russia's actions on the world stage better than other IR approaches do? What are IR analyses of Russia missing that do not operate with the conceptual apparatus of multipolarity?
Interesting question. Russia's behavior internationally is determined today by the following factors:
First, historical inertia, accumulating the power of precedents (the Theory of a Multipolar World thinks that the past exists as a structure; consequently, this factor is taken into account from many sides and in detail, while the 'tempocentrism' (Steve Hobden, John Hobson) of classical IR theories drops this from sight. We have to pay attention to this especially taking into consideration the fact that Russia is in many ways still a traditional society and belongs to the 'imperial system' of IR.) There are, besides, Soviet inertia and stable motives ('Stalinism in IR');
Second, the projective logic of opposition to the West, stemming from the most practical, pragmatic, and realist motivations (in the spirit of Caesarism, analyzed by neo-Gramscians) will necessarily lead Russia (even despite the will of its leaders) to a systemic confrontation with American hegemony and globalization, and then the Theory of a Multipolar World will really be needed (classical IR models, paying no attention to the Theory of a Multipolar World, drop from sight the possible future; i.e., they rob themselves of predictive potential because of purely ideological prejudices and self-imposed fears).
But if an opponent underestimates you, you have more chances to land an unexpected blow. So I am not too disturbed by the underestimation of the Theory of a Multipolar World among IR theorists.
In the western world, the divide between academia and policy is often either lamented ('ivory tower') or, in light of the ideal of academic independence, deemed absent. This concerns a broader debate regarding the relations between power, knowledge and geopolitics. How are academic-policy relations in Russia with regards to IR and is this the ideal picture according to you?
I think that in our case both positions have been taken to their extreme. On one hand, today's authorities in Russia do not pay the slightest attention to scholars, dispatching them to an airless and sterile space. On the other hand, Soviet habits became the basis for servility and conformism, preserved in a situation when the authorities for the first time demand nothing from intellectuals, except for one thing: that they not meddle in socio-political processes. So the situation with science is both comical and sorrowful. Conformist scholars follow the authorities, but the authorities don't need this, since they do not so much go anywhere in particular as react to facts that carry themselves out.
If your IR theory isn't based on politically and philosophically liberal principles, and if it criticizes those principles not from the left but from the right, using the language of large spaces or Grossraum, is it a fascist theory of international relations? Are scholars who characterize your thought as 'neo-fascism', like Andreas Umland and Anton Shekhovstov, partially correct? If not, why is that characterization misleading?
Accusations of fascism are simply a figure of speech in the coarse political propaganda peculiar to contemporary liberalism as the third totalitarianism. Karl Popper laid the basis for this in his book The Open Society and its Enemies, where he reduced the critique of liberalism from the right to fascism, Hitler, and Auschwitz, and the criticism of liberalism from the left to Stalin and the GULAG. The reality is somewhat more complex, but George Soros, who finances Umland and Shekhovstov and is an ardent follower of Popper, is content with reduced versions of politics. If I were a fascist, I would say so. But I am a representative of Eurasianism and the author of the Fourth Political Theory. At the same time, I am a consistent and radical anti-racist and opponent of the nation-state project (i.e. an anti-nationalist). Eurasianism has no relation to fascism. And the Fourth Political Theory emphasizes that while it is anti-liberal, it is simultaneously anti-communist and anti-fascist. I think it isn't possible to be clearer, but the propaganda army of the 'third totalitarianism' disagrees and no arguments will convince it. 1984 should be sought today not where many think: not in the USSR, not in the Third Reich, but in the Soros Fund and the 'Brave New World'. Incidentally, Huxley proved to be more correct than Orwell. I cannot forbid others from calling me a fascist, although I am not one, though ultimately this reflects badly not so much on me as on the accusers themselves: fighting an imaginary threat, the accuser misses a real one. The more stupid, mendacious, and straightforward a liberal is, the simpler it is to fight with him.
Does technological change in warfare and in civil government challenge the geopolitical premises of classical divisions between spaces (Mackinder's view or Spykman's) heartland-rimland-offshore continents)? And, more broadly perhaps, does history have a linear or a cyclical pattern, according to you?
Technological development does not at all abolish the principles of classical geopolitics, simply because Land and Sea are not substances, but concepts. Land is a centripetal model of order, with a clearly expressed and constant axis. Sea is a field, without a hard center, of processuality, atomism, and the possibility of numerous bifurcations. In a certain sense, air (and hence also aviation) is aeronautics. And even the word astronaut contains in itself the root 'nautos', from the Greek word for ship. Water, air, outer space—these are all versions of increasingly diffused Sea. Land in this situation remains unchanged. Sea strategy is diversified; land strategy remains on the whole constant. It is possible that this is the reason for the victory of Land over Sea in the last decade; after all, capitalism and technical progress are typical attributes of Sea. But taking into consideration the fundamental character of the balance between Leviathan and Behemoth, the proportions can switch at any moment; the soaring Titan can be thrown down into the abyss, like Atlantis, while the reason for the victory of thalassocracy becomes the source of its downfall. Land remains unchanged as the geographic axis of history. There is Land and Sea even on the internet and in the virtual world: they are axes and algorithms of thematization, association and separation, groupings of resources and protocols. The Chinese internet is terrestrial; the Western one, nautical.
You have translated a great number of foreign philosophical and geopolitical works into Russian. How important is knowledge transaction for the formation of your ideas?
I recently completed the first release of my book Noomachy, which is entirely devoted precisely to the Logoi of various civilizations, and hence to the circulation of ideas. I am convinced that each civilization has its own particular Logos. To grasp it and to find parallels, analogies, and dissonances in one's own Logos is utterly fascinating and interesting. That is why I am sincerely interested in the most varied cultures, from North American to Australian, Arabic to Latin American, Polynesian to Scandinavian. All the Logoi are different and it is not possible to establish a hierarchy among them. So it remains for us only to become familiar with them. Henry Corbin, the French philosopher and Protestant who studied Iranian Shiism his entire life, said of himself 'We are Shiites'. He wasn't a Shiite in the religious sense, but without feeling himself a Shiite, he would not be able to penetrate into the depths of the Iranian Logos. That is how I felt, working on Noomachy or translating philosophical texts or poetry from other languages: in particular, while learning Pierce and James, Emerson and Thoreau, Poe and Pound I experienced myself as 'we are Americans'. And in the volume devoted to China and Japan, as 'we are Buddhists'. That is the greatest wealth of the Logos of various cultures: both those like ours and those entirely unlike ours. And these Logoi are at war; hence, Noomachy, the war of the intellect. It is not linear and not primitive. It is a great war. It creates that which we call the 'human', the entire depth and complexity of which we most often underestimate.
Final question. You call yourself the 'last philosopher of empire'. What is Eurasanism and how does it relate to the global pivot of power distributions?
Eurasianism is a developed worldview, to which I dedicated a few books and a countless number of articles and interviews. In principle, it lies at the basis of the Theory of a Multipolar World and the Fourth Political Theory, combined with geopolitics, and it resonates with Traditionalism. Eurasianism's main thought is plural anthropology, the rejection of universalism. The meaning of Empire for me is that there exists not one Empire, but at minimum two, and even more. In the same way, civilization is never singular; there is always some other civilization that determines its borders. Schmitt called this the Pluriverse and considered it the main characteristic of the Political. The Eurasian Empire is the political and strategic unification of Turan, a geographic axis of history in opposition to the civilization of the Sea or the Atlanticist Empire. Today, the USA is this Atlanticist Empire. Kenneth Waltz, in the context of neorealism in IR, conceptualized the balance of two poles. The analysis is very accurate, although he erred about the stability of a bipolar world and the duration of the USSR. But on the whole he is right: there is a global balance of Empires in the world, not nation-States, the majority of which cannot claim sovereignty, which remains nominal (Stephen Krasner's (Theory Talk #21) 'global hypocrisy'). For precisely that reason, I am a philosopher of Empire, as is almost every American intellectual, whether he knows it or not. The difference is only that he thinks of himself as a philosopher of the only Empire, while I think of myself as the philosopher of one of the Empires, the Eurasian one. I am more humble and more democratic. That is the whole difference.
Alexander Dugin is a Russian philosopher, the author of over thirty books on topics including the sociology of the imagination, structural sociology, ethnosociology, geopolitical theory, international relations theory, and political theory, including four books on the German philosopher Martin Heidegger. His most recent books, only available in Russian at the moment, are Ukraine: My War and the multi-volume Noomachia: Wars of the Intellect. Books translated into English include The Fourth Political Theory, Putin vs. Putin: Vladimir Putin Viewed From the Right, and Martin Heidegger: The Philosophy of Another Beginning.
Related links
Who is Alexander Dugin? Interview with Theory Talks editor Michael Millerman (YouTube) TheFourth Political Theory website (English): Evrazia.tv (Russian) Evrazia.tv (English) Geopolitics.ru (English version) InternationalEurasian Movement (English version) Centerfor Conservative Studies (Russian)
