Suchergebnisse

I recommend Evan Ellis' post at Global Americans on his recently completed year at the U.S. State Department Policy Planning Staff. He now returns to the U.S. Army War College Strategic Studies Institute. It is a useful read both for its insider look and its discussion of "why does this matter?"Here is a key point:The problem is also compounded by the fundamental orientation of the State Department to tell our partners what we think and want, rather than listening to what they think and want. While seasoned diplomats know better in their personal interaction, I observed the balance of the work that came across my desk to be about "transmitting" rather than "receiving." Every high-level meeting involves the preparation of "talking points" seeking to advance an agenda, too seldom did they include questions about what our partners thought or needed.This echoes Lars Schoultz's In Their Own Best Interest, where he questions all "uplifting" aid, the effects of which are never measured. We can check boxes on delivery and execution, but not on whether it actually makes lives better. Making lives better requires starting with what our partners actually want. This has often been true, but is accentuated in the Trump era.In my own work, I did not see substantial evidence that the strategy and policy documents of each organization are actively used as guides to action by the other, beyond superficial references to fundamental documents such as the National Security Strategy. I also witnessed and participated in the drafting of some interagency documents, but beyond the somewhat useful exercise of meeting and coordinating about their wording, I did not perceive that the result meaningfully impacted the direction of either state or the other U.S. government entities involved.This is clearly a Trump administration problem, though past administrations were clearly not immune.  Unlike the past, though, the essential problem now is that policy is made by tweet, with government agencies scrambling to interpret it just like the rest of us. How do you feel like you're doing something meaningful when the president ignores you?I appreciate these kinds of perspectives. As a side note, as he does not address it, I know a number of people who have moved from academia to policy making and back, and I know their view of of the relevance and accuracy of academic work changed dramatically. I have not felt great temptation to try the policy making world myself, even as I recognize that even in small doses it would make us better analysts. Subscribe in a reader

Hey everyone, and welcome to a very special episode of Fully Automated. Why so special? Well, because this is our first ever joint episode! We've teamed up with the Science Technology and Art in International Relations (or STAIR) section of ISA, for the first of what we hope will be a series of collaborations on the politics and economics of science and technology (and art!) in global affairs.



Joining me as a co-host on this episode is Stéphanie Perazzone, who graduated recently with a PhD in International Relations and Political Science at the Graduate Institute of International and Development Studies, Geneva (IHEID). Stéphanie is a post-doctoral researcher at the Institute of Development Policy (IOB), the University of Antwerp. She is working on a Swiss National Science Foundation-funded research project entitled "Localizing International Security Sector Reform; A Micro-Sociology of Policing in Urban Congo." She is also the Communications Officer for STAIR.



Our guest for this episode is Anna Leander, the winner of the 2018 STAIR 'Transversal Acts' Distinguished Scholar Award. Anna is Professor of International Relations at the Graduate Institute in Geneva, with part-time positions also at the Copenhagen Business School. She is known primarily for her contributions to the development of practice theoretical approaches to International Relations and for her work on the politics of commercializing military/security matters. According to her bio, she is "focused on the material politics of commercial security technologies with special emphasis on their aesthetic and affective dimensions."



In the interview, Stéphanie and I invite Anna to reflect on a number of the topics she has taken on, in the course of her career. One question of interest is the influence of Pierre Bourdieu on her thinking, especially concerning the role of symbolic power in reproducing systems of political violence, and the political value of reflexivity as a precursor of resistance. We also ask her about her work on the increasingly overlapping relationship between the commercial and the technological, and her thoughts on methodology in relation to studying this and other recent trends and developments in the security world.



Listeners interested in following up on Anna's work might want to check out some of the following articles, which all get discussed to some extent in the interview:




The Paradoxical Impunity of Private Military Companies: Authority and the Limits to Legal Accountability. Security Dialogue, 41(5), 467–490. https://doi.org/10.1177/0967010610382108
Ethnographic Contributions to Method Development: "Strong Objectivity" in Security Studies, International Studies Perspectives, Volume 17, Issue 4, November 2016, Pages 462–475, https://doi.org/10.1093/isp/ekv021
The politics of whitelisting: Regulatory work and topologies in commercial security. Environment and Planning D: Society and Space, 34(1), 48–66. https://doi.org/10.1177/0263775815616971




Thanks for listening. As ever, if you have any feedback, you are welcome to connect with us on Twitter @occupyirtheory. And the STAIR section can be reached @STAIRISA

Last week's awful speech set me on edge immediately.  The first words about handouts were a signal, but the thing that confirmed that the talk would be awful was Maisonneuve invocation of "woke."  Whenever I hear anyone tossing around that word contemptuously, I immediately code that person as not worth listening to.  Why?To be clear, woke refers to folks who have become aware of the historical legacies of discrimination and the present-day implications.  That's pretty much it, that woke people understand that there is and has been significant discrimination.   That's it.  To be anti-woke, which many folks on the right are now so proud of, means denying that discrimination happened and/or it has made an impact on today.  Of course, it is more complicated than that--it can mean being opposed to the measures used to address the remedial efforts aimed at reducing discrimination and compensating for its impact.  The classic case of this maybe opposing affirmative action as it may be seen as unfair to white men, and the opponents usually say that such measures are unfair as it means that those who are more meritorious are being denied opportunities due to the sins of their fathers.  There is a lot built into that including the notion that today's procedures would be otherwise focused entirely on merit if not for considerations of race, ethnicity, gender, etc.The reality of today's politics is that when one loudly proclaims that one is anti-woke, one is doing one of two things (or both):a) one is signaling to one's white, male, "Christian" supporters that one is with them, an enthusiastic supporter of some past status quo (real or imagined) where the woke folks were kept in their place;  folks, including myself, refer to this as vice-signaling.  b) one is actually one of these folks who are actually an enthusiastic supporter of some past reality (fake or real) where the uppity folks knew better and that one could discriminate, harass and do more without being called out for it.I tend to think Ted Cruz, for instance, is in the first category--that he does not really believe anything but wants power and signals being anti-woke to appeal to his racist, homophobic, xenophobic, misogynist supporters.  That does not make these folks better even if they don't believe in the hate they are inciting--it makes them just as bad as the genuine article as they are inciting and providing comfort for them.  Vice signaling is dangerous and awful and should be called out.Is this cancellation?  No, free speech means one has the right to engage in vice-signaling, but it also means that others have the right to call it out for what it is.  Maisonneuve got more than just a right to speak last week--he got to have a platform to do it.  And he abused it.  And I have the right to call him out as does everyone else who considers his speech to be awful, intolerant, and retrograde.    

Hello friends!
We are back with another great episode of Fully Automated. In this episode, we step back a little bit from the grander political themes that we are usually preoccupied with, to do an episode on the pedagogical possibilities (and challenges) presented by contemporary technology.



When it comes to online teaching in the discipline of International Relations, there are very few that can claim to have the experience or insight of Dr. Sebastian Kaempf. Senior Lecturer in Peace and Conflict Studies at the School of Political Science and International Studies at the University of Queensland (Australia), Kaempf is a scholar of global media politics, focusing on the impact of changing media technologies on contemporary conflicts. He is also is the producer (with UQx and edX.com) and convenor of 'MediaWarX', one of UQ's Massive Open Online Courses (MOOCs), and probably one of the largest political science MOOCs in the world.



For some, MOOCs seem to represent a sort of ultimate form of "democratized" education whereas, for others, they seem to herald the dawn of a new dystopian age. For Kaempf, now a longtime veteran of online teaching, its important to bring some nuance to this conversation. Pedagogy can make a difference. And, as you'll hear in this conversation, Kaempf and his partners at UQ put a lot of thought and material resources into their approach, pushing the medium to the very edge of what it can accomplish.



Here then, Kaempf discusses the minutiae of how he and his colleagues actually built and delivered the course. On the one hand, they avoided the traditional lecture form in favor of what they call "spaced learning" — because research shows that human beings kind of struggle to concentrate that long. On the other, and in a break with the usual stereotype of dry pre-recorded lectures, a central theme of MediaWarX is the seriousness with which they approached the class as a kind of media production. So, for example, portions of the course are presented in a kind of 'road movie' or documentary style, blending diverse archival footage with on-site discussions from locations all around the world, and interviews with well-known academics and experts (including Glenn Greenwald!).



We'll also hear Seb discuss the ethos of "Hacktivism" that he tries to bring to his online teaching. Thus, he uses discovery assignments to teach about everything from how search algorithms work, to how we are addicted to being online, to the power of big data and surveillance. In this way, the course develops a kind of "crowd sourced" content.



Finally, I ask Sebastian about Covid, and where and how it has changed the fate of MOOCs and online instruction in general. After 18 months of more or less totally online instruction, how does his experience of working with, and thinking about, MOOCs effect his perception of the future of online education in a post-pandemic world?



Sebastian Kaempf can be found on Twitter @SebKaempf and his podcast, Higher Ed Heroes, can be found on all leading podcast apps. And his International Studies Perspectives article with Carrie Finn, discussed in the interview, can be located here:




https://academic.oup.com/isp/article-abstract/22/1/1/5651202
https://doi.org/10.1093/isp/ekz025




Thanks for listening. Next episode, we go to Korea to visit the crew from the podcast Red Star over Asia. And in the next episode after that, we will be chatting with Christine Louis Dit Sully.

Welcome to another episode of Fully Automated!



With the inauguration of Joe Biden just around the corner, many are pondering what new approaches his team might bring to US foreign policy. Despite President Trump's penchant for bombast and bellicose rhetoric, it can't be gainsaid that his reign has been more or less dovish in comparison to those of his more recent predecessors. One huge exception to this rule, of course, has been Iran.



Early 2020 US forces assassinated the Iranian General Qasem Soleimani. Then, in November 2020, we saw the assassination of military scientist Mohsen Fakhrizadeh — a hit apparently green lit by Trump himself. In response to this latest provocation, the Iranian parliament introduced a law that will require Biden to renew the Iranian nuclear deal, or JCPOA, effectively within a month of taking office. The law also requires Iran to produce at least 120 kg of 20-percent enriched uranium annually. What does it all mean? On the one hand, as former UNSCOM inspector Scott Ritter has been arguing, Iran's response has been remarkably calm. The amount of higher enriched fuel to be produced is still very low, arguably not for military purposes, and is "in conformity" with the limits proscribed under the JCPOA. Nevertheless, as Ryan Grimm reports, even on the way out the door, the Trump Administration has been plotting military strikes against Iran.



To discuss the current situation, and the release of their new co-authored book, Understanding and Explaining the Iranian Nuclear 'Crisis': Theoretical Approaches (Lexington: 2020), our guests for this episode are Drs. Hal Tagma and Paul Lenze Jr. Tagma is Assistant Professor at the Department Politics and International Affairs, at Northern Arizona University, where he teaches Middle Eastern politics, the political economy of international conflict, and critical approaches to international relations theory. Lenze Jr is Senior Lecturer in Politics, also at Northern Arizona University. He teaches International Relations and Comparative Politics with a focus on Civil-Military Relations, Middle East politics, and US National Security. Lenze can be reached on Twitter @DrPaulELenzeJr



This is a rich book, which I think will appeal both to IR theorists, and those looking to gain a sense of the debates around US-Iran relations. On the one hand, it contains a rich meta-commentary on contemporary IR, and the theoretical possibilities it contains for dialogue between its various theoretical paradigms. Second, its a very detailed and reasoned analysis of the state of US Iran relations, and the idea that there is a 'crisis' (and what it even means to speak of crisis).



Before we get started, the authors make strong claims in the book in favor of what they term eclectic pluralism, and they are critical of the idea that there is only one truth, or one story to be told, about International relations. That might seem to imply they see all truths in IR as somehow equal or equivalent. Nevertheless, as you'll hear, the book is doesn't hesitate to land some punches. In the chapter on Marxism and World Systems Theory, for example, they write that, from the perceptive of Marxism:




Modern academic Realism is a superstructural tool that legitimizes and naturalizes the exploitative and violent polito-economic order of global capitalism. Modern academic Realism is not outside of history nor is it 'timeless wisdom.' Instead, Realism is caught up in constructing the violent, capitalist World-System that it is hopelessly trying to make sense of.




Thanks for listening. We don't ask for any financial support, in bringing you this show. But if you like what you hear, please leave a kind review on your podcast app. If you have any feedback, you can DM us @occupyirtheory on Twitter and Instagram. Thanks!

Hello, Fully Automated friends! For your coronavirus lockdown listening pleasure, we are today releasing a really special episode. Our guest is Dr. Magnus Paulsen Hansen, who is an Associate Professor at the Department of Social Sciences and Business, at Roskilde University. Magnus researches the role of ideas and evaluation in the legitimation of welfare state transformations. But he is also a bit of a Foucault ninja. And he is joining us today to discuss a question that has vexed me for a long time: was Foucault a neoliberal?



Veteran listeners may recall the last time we discussed this issue, when we had Mark GE Kelly on the show, all the way back in Episode 2! But I wanted to get Magnus on the show to go a little deeper into some of these arguments, as its a debate that doesn't seem to be going away. In 2015, Magnus published an article in the journal Foucault Studies, entitled Foucault's Flirt? Neoliberalism, the Left and the Welfare State; a Commentary on La dernière leçon de Michel Foucault and Critiquer Foucault. For me, it stands as one of the most exhaustively researched and argued rebuttals of the contention, by Daniel Zamora, and other fellow travelers (see also here), that Foucault bears some kind of intellectual responsibility for the rise of neoliberal thought.



Honestly, I've always been a little alarmed by the argument that Foucault was a neoliberal. Its not so much the idea itself that offends me, as the slipshod nature of the way the argument is made. With a strong tendency towards ad hominem argumentation, and little consideration for Foucault's core teachings on power, the argument appears to be quite ideologically driven. Often, it seems to boil down simply to the argument that Foucault was some sort of intellectual magpie, and all too easily distracted by shiny objects. Zamora and his fellow travelers claim that Foucault was "seduced" by the basic model of freedom offered by neoliberal thought, and that he was thus blinded to its more disciplinary tendencies. Given Foucault's prestige and influence among the left, this was an abdication from his intellectual duty, weakening the left just at the moment of Reagan and Thatcher's arrival.



In this interview, we discuss the danger of looking for "hidden" or "unconscious" intentions in an author, and the idea that such intentions might relate to any conclusion about an author's politics. We discuss the "best case" defense of the claim that Foucault was somehow seduced by neoliberal thought, and the way this argument often gets linked in an under-nuanced way to Foucault's critique of the post-war welfare state. We also explore the various ways in which Foucault, while often categorized as a libertarian, with anti-state proclivities, was equally opposed to anarchist theoretics of the state, going even so far as to refer to them as a form of "state phobia" — something that is especially interesting think about today, in light of Agamben's recent interventions on Coronavirus measures as amplifying permanent state of exception (I discussed this at length in the intro to our last episode, with Garnet Kindervater).



In the face of such weak evidence, we should note that Foucault in no way accepted or endorsed the idea that he was himself a neoliberal. To the contrary, as Magnus notes, there is a strong cautionary voice in Foucault's writings on neoliberalism. Indeed, he appears to argue that it foreshadows the dawn of a new and sinister mode of political power; at the moment of neoliberalism's birth, Foucault was warning that neoliberal theory imagines itself installing a "permanent economic tribunal" and becoming a hegemonic "model of social relations and of existence itself." Certainly, this is not to say Foucault's work has no blind spots when it comes to the question of what neoliberal theory would later become. One common objection to Foucault in this sense is his failure to anticipate the disciplinary aspects of contemporary neolibera...

This episode is the second in our Brexit series, and we are joined by Lucian Ashworth, Professor of International Relations at Memorial University of Newfoundland, and author of the influential text 'A History of International Thought' (Routledge, 2014).

Back before Christmas, in Episode 14, we heard Lee Jones offer what was perhaps not exactly a 'Lexit' (or 'left exit') position on Brexit, but nevertheless a progressive position very much in favor of a full Brexit. At the core of Jones's arguments was, I think, the view that the EU is an essentially anti-democratic and unreformable project. The only way to address the problem, he claimed, was to restore British sovereignty. In this sense, Jones was critical not only of the deal Theresa May proposed, last December, but also the position of the Labour Party, with its now infamous six tests — that is, essentially, the idea that whatever deal the UK should pursue, it should be one that results in the "exact same benefits" as as those currently enjoyed by the UK, as a member of the Single Market, but with special additional provisions, including "fair management of migration."

Since we spoke to Jones, there have been a number of important developments, but little by way of clarity as to how the drama will end. On January 15, in the greatest parliamentary defeat of any PM in British history, the British Parliament rejected Theresa May's deal. Since then, following the terms of the so-called Brady amendment, passed on January 29, she returned to Brussels in order to try to negotiate "alternative arrangements." She plans now to present her new deal to Parliament on March 12, just two weeks before the deadline March 29. This is very close to the wire, but May hopes to be able to get the EU to budge on the backstop — something she must do, if she is to persuade Tory Eurosceptics to support her plan.

In this episode, you will hear Ashworth engage with a number of Jones's key points, including the 'WTO rules' issue, the importance of not overstating the power of the Far Right in Europe, and the history of reactionary politics, on the British left. But Ashworth's core arguments stem from his concerns about the future of the Irish border, and the unacknowledged costs of a return to the fantasy of 'the sovereign people' — especially in an era where complex global flows of capital have made it harder and harder for the Left to leverage the state, as it pursues its mission of defending labour and democracy, from the interests of the global financial elite.

Importantly, this episode with Lucian Ashworth was recorded on February 16. Due to technical issues, it wasn't ready for broadcast until today, February 28. This delay does not significantly effect the value of the interview, since our discussion focused mainly on the historical context of Brexit, and abstract questions about globalization, and its complex consequences for our traditional models of politics and economic life.

That said, it is worth mentioning that on Tuesday, February 26, Theresa May announced that, should her deal fail to pass the house, she is going to allow a vote on an extension of Article 50. The pressure is on, however, as we have also begun to see rebellion breaking out, and the creation in Parliament of a new 'Independent Group,' composed of rebels from both Labour and the Conservatives. Corbyn, for his part, announced his support for a second referendum — putting before the people a choice between whether to remain in the EU, or to pursue Labour's alternative vision of a Brexit deal, which includes a permanent customs union.

If you have any questions or comments about the show, you are welcome to reach out to us via Twitter: @occupyirtheory — equally, feel welcome to leave us a positive rating on iTunes, or your favorite podcast software.

Thanks for listening!

For the umpteenth time, the U.S. and Iran have come close to an open war neither side wants. The Israelis strike a building within the Iranian embassy compound in Damascus, killing senior officers of the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps. The Iranians, with unintended irony, protest this violation of diplomatic premises, and almost start a war with Israel by launching hundreds of drones and missiles that the U.S., given ample warning, helps to inter­cept. The Israelis launch a counterstrike to demonstrate its ability to evade Iran's defenses. That appears to end the exchange until the next round.Sooner or later, if the U.S. and the Islamic Republic are going to avoid such a lose-lose conflict, the two sides will need to stop shouting and start talking. Forty-five years of exchanging empty slogans, accusa­tions, threats, and denunci­a­tions have accomplished little beyond furthering a few political careers and feed­ing a sense of self-righteousness. For suc­cessive U.S. adminis­trations, Iran remains a problem that will not go away.To para­phrase Trotsky, "You may have no business with Iran; but Iran has business with you." For Iran, the U.S. remains an obsession. The more Iran's hated rulers denounce it, the more attractive it becomes — as both a role model and a destination — to a savvy popula­tion suffering from inflation, unemployment, and the stern, miso­gynistic dictates of an aging and ossified ruling elite.The Islamic Republic, despite the wishes of many Iranians and their friends, is probably not going away soon. In the first months after the fall of the monarchy, the most-asked question in Tehran was, "When are THEY leaving?" (Inhaa key mirand?). Forty-five years later THEY are still in charge and show no signs of packing their bags.Why should we talk to the Islamic Republic, when it has the appalling history that it does? Why should we talk when its overriding policy principle is, in the words of one Iranian official, "opposition to you"? We need to talk because talking (and listening) to an adversary means serving our national interests by communicating. Talking never means either approval of or affection for the Islamic Republic.Talking to the Islamic Republic is not going to bring down that government, persuade the ruling clerics to step aside, or persuade them to stop repressing its women, musicians, journalists, lawyers, students and academics. Talking is not going to end the ruling clerics' bizarre obsessions with con­trolling every trivial detail of Iranians' private lives. What talking does is allow each side to present its point of view and to correct the dangerous "mythperceptions" that have prevented the U.S. and Iran from breaking out of a 45-year downward spiral of futility.For what has happened when the two sides have not talked? What has happened, for example, when the Islamic Republic's representatives at meetings refuse face-to-face meetings with their American counterparts? What has happened when one side ignores, or rejects outright, proposals from the other to meet in at setting of mutual respect?Whenever two sides — neighbors, relatives, countries — for whatever reason, cannot talk, each side becomes, to the other, simul­taneously sub-human and super-human. "Superhuman" means the other is capable of anything. In this case, a superhuman Iran can build and deliver a nuclear weapon in weeks, manipulate proxies to do its will anywhere, and rebuild the mighty Persian Empires of Greek and Roman times. On the other side, a superhuman United States can guide events in Iran and subvert its young people through a powerful, hidden network of agents – journalists, intellectuals, writers, etc. – ready to obey instructions from Washington.As for being "subhuman," in this view neither side is constrained by any sense of morality or humanity. It will do (and since it is also super­human, can do) anything. In such a case, the superhuman we fear and the subhuman we despise. When such a powerful and evil adver­sary threatens us, we feel justified in taking any action against it, because that adver­sary will stop at nothing and has only one goal: to destroy us by any means possible.At one level, leaders in both Tehran and Washington seek to avoid an Iran-U.S. war. Although Tehran's ruling clerics care little for the lives of ordi­nary Iranians – who would be the victims of such a war – they do care about staying in power and continuing to enjoy their villas and foreign currency accounts. A war with the U.S. would threaten their good life. In Washington, both Democratic and Repub­lican presidents have known that "another stupid war" in the Middle East is a political loser. In 2016, Trump ran against such wars, and his message was powerful. Although he foolishly abandoned the Iran nuclear deal and made a bizarre threat to blow up "52 historical sites" in Iran, he clearly had no stomach for a war. He summarily fired his national security adviser, a paid shill for the cultists of the Mujahedin-e Khalq (MEK), when he pushed the president toward confrontation.Does Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu want to drag the U.S. into a war with Iran? To all appearances he does, not only to rid Israel of a declared enemy, but, more important, to keep himself in power. The Israeli premier has used Iran to mani­pulate the U.S. and even to intervene directly in American domestic politics. The more extreme the rhetoric and actions from Tehran, the better for Netanyahu. It is said he went into mourning when President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad — notorious for his curious anti-Israeli rhetoric — left office in 2013. But he can usually depend on the Islamic Republic to help him both by overplaying its weak hand and by raising the volume on its tired slogans.Wars often begin with both sides saying they want peace. But miscalculations, underestimating or overestimating the other side, and third-party actions can push a country down a path it knows is self-destructive. Talking to the Islamic Republic will be hard, but it is worth doing if it can keep both sides off a road to disaster.

The historic removal of Rep. Kevin McCarthy (R-Calif.) from the House Speakership on Wednesday introduced a new roadblock to the prospect of future aid for Ukraine's war effort.Funding for Ukraine emerged as a centerpiece in the negotiations to pass government spending bills and avoid a government shutdown in recent weeks, and McCarthy's maneuvering last weekend was ultimately not enough to save his job. The race for who will take his spot has begun, with Reps. Jim Jordan (R-Ohio) and Steve Scalise (R-La.) already throwing their hats into the ring and others, like Rep. Kevin Hern (R-Okla.) are rumored to be interested as well. One attribute that all share is reluctance to provide more aid to Ukraine, at least in the immediate future. "Looking at the Republican candidates for speaker, I have a tough time seeing any of them bringing Ukraine funding to the floor — even with strings," wrote Punchbowl News' Jake Sherman on the social media platform X. Sherman later added that he "would be surprised if the W.H. gets another Ukraine aid package this year." The reluctance stems from the growing opposition in the GOP caucus to continuing to provide aid for Ukraine. During the Pentagon Appropriations Act amendment process last month, just over half of Republican House members voted against including $300 million in Ukraine aid, and a handful of members maintained that they would not vote for any government spending bills that included money for Ukraine. After much back-and-forth, McCarthy had seemingly acquiesced to the bloc of House Republicans who are skeptical of funding Ukraine. The 45-day Continuing Resolution, which passed with the support of 209 Democrats and 126 Republicans over the weekend, did not contain any further money for Kyiv. But the issue was still a major reason for McCarthy's ouster, with Rep. Matt Gaetz (R-Fla.), the leader of the revolt, accusing the former Speaker of working with President Joe Biden behind the scenes to ensure that Ukraine funding would ultimately be brought to the floor. "Members of the Republican party might vote differently on a motion to vacate if they heard what the speaker had to share with us about his secret side deal with Joe Biden on Ukraine. I'll be listening," Gaetz said earlier this week, before introducing the motion to vacate. On Sunday, Biden said that he expected McCarthy to "keep his word and secure the passage of support for Ukraine at this critical moment." McCarthy was eventually removed from his leadership position, with eight Republicans joining forces with every voting Democrat to vacate the speakership. It marked the first time ever that a "motion to vacate" had been successfully employed to remove a House Speaker from power. But if the next Speaker refuses to bring Ukraine aid up to a vote, supporters of sending more aid to Ukraine could have a couple of procedural options that would allow them to supersede the Speaker. One is a petition to discharge, a mechanism by which any House majority can bypass leadership and force floor action on a bill that has been stuck in committee. A petition to discharge would require legislation to first be introduced and be pending in a committee for 30 legislative days. Further, a petition to discharge would require the signatures of a majority of members. Even if all Democrats signed the petition, it would still need six Republicans to reach the necessary 218. There are far more than six Republicans who are in favor of continued aid for Ukraine, but the question is whether there are six who are willing to team up with Democrats and publicly buck their party's leadership. Because petitions to discharge always require members of the majority party to agree with the minority party's legislative priorities, they have rarely been employed successfully.Another option would be a maneuver known as "defeating the previous question." Voting on the previous question is a motion used to end debate on pending legislation and therefore bringing it to an immediate vote.If Democrats — once again with sufficient GOP help — vote to defeat the previous question on a future rule vote, it will leave the rule being voted on open to debate and amendment, which could theoretically be used to add in funding for Ukraine. Both options were floated in the media as ways for Democrats and moderate Republicans to overcome opposition from others in the GOP during the government funding debate. Experts viewed them unlikely to happen, because it would mean that a group of Republicans would essentially declare war on party leadership. At the time, Molly Reynolds of the Brookings Institution wrote on X that any solution that relied on a bloc of Republicans joining forces with Democrats would have to be "implicitly blessed by the GOP leadership."Therefore, bringing future Ukraine-related legislation to the floor over a speaker's public objection would require either rank-and-file Republicans taking a major political risk by going against them, or leadership doing so by privately endorsing the effort.A third possibility, a close observer of the Hill tells RS, is that members who want to continue funding Ukraine strike a deal with the next Speaker, either by pairing it with conservative policy goals like border security concessions, or by trimming down the size of the aid package. In any case, these options are all either unlikely or will take time to progress. The White House and legislators supportive of continued funding for Ukraine have argued that quickly passing another tranche of aid is essential to Kyiv's effort. "We cannot under any circumstances allow America's support for Ukraine to be interrupted," Biden said on Sunday after the stopgap funding measure was passed. "We have time, not much time, and there's an overwhelming sense of urgency," President Joe Biden said Sunday. On Tuesday, eight Senate Democrats sent a letter to House and Senate leadership, saying that "now is not the time to slow our aid to Ukraine.""It is past time for the U.S. Congress to take up and pass legislation guaranteeing Ukraine has the critical resources necessary to continue defending themselves against Putin's illegal war," they wrote. "We urge you to act immediately to advance legislation that will provide critical and sustained security and economic support for Ukraine to the President's desk for his signature."Proponents of expediting the next package argue that the money that Washington has already sent to Kyiv is quickly drying up, though as Responsible Statecraft has reported this week, the reality is more complex. Sen. Mark Warner, (D-Va.) noted on Tuesday that he does not have "100% clarity," on how much of the roughly $62 billion that has been appropriated for military aid remains. Given the events in recent months, the path forward for more Ukraine aid already seemed tricky. With House leadership in turmoil, it now appears to be even more daunting.

On Wednesday, President Joe Biden announced that he would stop sending offensive weapons to Israel "'if they go into Rafah." It is the most notable sign of his administration's shift in its support for Israel's war to date, but questions remain over how and when the president will follow through on his words. Meanwhile, the administration paused a recent shipment of bombs to Israel, but it is not a permanent decision, and the president's claim that "they haven't gone in Rafah yet" — despite the fact that Israel is continually striking the southern Gazan city, have tanks positioned on the periphery, and took control of the the Rafah crossing — suggests that U.S. support may otherwise continue so long as the campaign remains relatively limited.Behind the scenes in the U.S. government, there has been a bit of turmoil.At least four federal employees, including three from the State Department, have publicly resigned, explicitly in protest of the administration's response to the war. This comes amid a number of stories about internal tension in the Biden administration concerning its largely unwavering rhetorical and material support for Benjamin Netanyahu's government as it prosecutes a war that has now killed nearly 35,000 Palestinians. In addition, hundreds of civil servants from various government agencies have signed a series of open letters calling on Biden to push for a ceasefire in Gaza and de-escalation in the wider region. Unfortunately, one federal employee with more than 15 years of service in two government agencies told RS, "the internal messaging to staff mirrors the external messages. And that has been a source of both disappointment and deep frustration." (Sources asked for anonymity in order to discuss internal dynamics.) In other words, the informal 'dissent channel' doesn't seem to be moving the needle, seven months into the war.Critics within the administration are not motivated by their moral qualms alone. There is a growing sense among staff, according to another source, that the long-term alliance with Israel does not serve U.S. interests. Specifically, they are worried that Washington is itself being drawn into a regional war, that its actions are increasing instability in the region, and that "ironclad" support for Israel's conduct in Gaza is undermining any claim that the U.S. is a champion for global human rights and democracy. The dissent also extends beyond the departments that are typically considered responsible for implementing Gaza policy, such as the State Department or USAID. It includes officials in other agencies whose work is tangentially related to the war and still others who are simply outraged by American complicity in the rising death toll and humanitarian crisis. "Having worked in the administration during the Afghan withdrawal and also the Russian invasion of Ukraine, so many efforts were spearheaded and led, and normal procedures were bypassed given the urgent humanitarian situation. Here, however, it has been a totally different ballgame. There are systemic issues with how we issue Palestinian cases," says a homeland security official. "Any kind of initiative to expedite help for Palestinians has been blocked or quelled or slowed down dramatically in a way that I've never seen before." The signs were there in the early days of the war, sources say. "The decision was made from the top very early on," says an official with 25 years of national security experience. "Experts have been shut out from the decision-making process, making it very hard to change that policy."Annelle Sheline, a former staffer in the State Department's Bureau of Democracy, Human Rights, and Labor, who resigned in protest of the administration's Gaza policy in March, says her experience was similar."There are so many people who know the region really well working at State, who were raising concerns from all kinds of angles: the U.S. national interest angle, the legalistic angle or the human rights angle," Sheline tells RS. "People who spent their whole careers working on these things, and nobody was being listened to. Even relatively senior officials inside State who are very concerned and very opposed were not being listened to." (Sheline was previously a research fellow at the Quincy Institute, which publishes RS.) Federal employees who are disillusioned with the approach to Gaza say they have explored multiple avenues to make their position clear. One federal employee told RS that when staffers raised concerns about unconditionally supporting Israel in the early stages of the war, they realized that doing so through formal channels was ineffective."As the months dragged on, it became evident that the dissent channels that the State Department likes to tout are about placating staff more than actually listening to those with deep regional and policy expertise and making changes," says the 15-year federal employee. The dissidents say only a handful of individuals in the upper echelons of the State Department, at the National Security Council and, and ultimately Biden himself, have decision-making power, and no amount of dissent has made a difference. According to one report, Biden's own staunch pro-Israel position has been solidified over five decades in Washington, and his commitment to the Jewish state is not easily shaken. In the months since October 7, a number of staffers have resorted to quieter and more informal forms of protest — having unsanctioned conversations with journalists; changing social media avatars to express solidarity with Palestinians; or wearing keffiyehs during work meetings — to express their unhappiness or distress within the administration.When RS spoke to these federal employees, they noted the importance of May 8, the day the Biden administration was supposed to produce a report for Congress on Israel's compliance with international humanitarian law. It would have been a clear sign of how far Biden and other top officials are willing to go to back the war effort. That date came and went with no report on Wednesday. There are conflicting reports on whether the report is delayed "indefinitely" or whether it is expected to be delivered soon. As the staffers noted, the Israeli blockade of aid — at the very least — has been so blatant that it would be hard to believe that any official acting in good faith would sign a report asserting the contrary. And this is an argument that many other notable individuals have made publicly."The determination regarding compliance with international law is one of fact and law. The facts and law should not be ignored to achieve a pre-determined policy outcome. Our credibility is on the line," Sen. Chris Van Hollen (D-Md.), the lawmaker who led the effort to require a report be submitted to Congress, recently said. In late April, more than 90 lawyers signed a letter to the Biden administration calling on it to suspend military aid to Israel. "The law is clear and aligned with the majority of Americans who believe the U.S. should cease arms shipments to Israel until it stops its military operation in Gaza," read the letter. At least 20 of the signatories work in the administration, according to Politico. Politico reported on Tuesday that there has been an uptick in the number of non-public resignations by officials and that more resignations, both public and non-public, will soon follow.Sources tell RS that there have been discussions of larger-scale resignations, though ultimately it remains unclear whether such dramatic steps would make much difference, given how little impact the public dissent has made to date. Many staffers are reluctant to quit their jobs because of family or financial considerations.Sheline, who was the third official to publicly resign over Gaza policy, says that there have been efforts to delegitimize her resignation, as well as those that preceded it. "I think if there were a lot more public resignations, I do think it would be very hard for the administration to pretend that it was just a one-off. So I do hope that there will be more."

This week, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky offered his starkest warning yet about the need for new military aid from the United States."It's important to specifically address the Congress," Zelensky said. "If the Congress doesn't help Ukraine, Ukraine will lose the war."Unfortunately for Zelensky, Congress does not appear to be listening. In fact, Speaker Mike Johnson (R-La.) is now on the verge of losing control of the House due to deep Republican disagreements over Ukraine aid and a host of other issues. If Johnson fails to rein in his colleagues, the House may be unable to pass much of anything for the rest of the year.As Kyiv's ammunition shortage worsens, a Wednesday dispute revealed just how weak of a hold the speaker has on his caucus. Johnson is trying to renew a spying authority before it expires on April 19, but a last-minute intervention from former President Donald Trump led Republicans to kill his bill before it even reached the floor.Ukraine and its allies seem to have internalized the lesson that Johnson is now learning: As the presidential election season gets into gear, the center of gravity in Republican politics has shifted southward. Hence why British Foreign Minister David Cameron's pro-Ukraine charm tour made its first stop in Palm Beach, Florida.Cameron met with Trump Monday at Mar-a-Lago, where he pushed the Republican candidate on aid. "[I]t's in everybody's interest that Ukraine is in a strong position and [Russian President Vladimir] Putin is in a weak position at the end of this year," Cameron said following the meeting. "Whoever is president wants to be able to push forward in a way that is backing success and not trying to overturn failure."The former British prime minister then went to Washington, where he met with congressional leaders, including Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.). Cameron did not, however, sit down with Johnson. A British source told Politico that there were scheduling issues, though the symbolism is hard to ignore.The Biden administration, for its part, has made some efforts to bridge the gap in hopes that the House will eventually pass a new aid package. The White House authorized a $138 million weapons sale on Tuesday, and it followed up by sending Ukraine thousands of Iranian guns and ammunition that the U.S. had seized en route to Yemen last year. But this pales in comparison to the billions of dollars worth of weapons that Kyiv received each month in the early stages of the war.All of this is further complicated by the fact that corruption in Ukraine has led to price gouging on some items purchased by Ukraine's Defense Ministry. "Corruption has been deeply ingrained in Ukraine's defense sector since Soviet times, with manufacturers routinely bribing officials to purchase equipment at inflated prices," the Wall Street Journal reported. "Changing those practices would be hard enough in peacetime, let alone in the midst of war."This leaves Ukraine in its weakest position since the early weeks of the war. Without new aid, Kyiv risks losing both on the battlefield and at the negotiating table, with Moscow holding an apparent advantage in each domain.This wasn't always the case. In late 2022, when Ukrainian forces pushed Russia from the outskirts of Kyiv all the way back to the Donbas, Ukraine had the momentum in every domain. As George Beebe of the Quincy Institute wrote at the time, "Ukraine's successes on the battlefield have provided it with substantial leverage to shape the terms of any settlement.""This success story does not mean that either Russia or Ukraine is yet ready for serious negotiations," Beebe, who previously led Russia analysis at the CIA, argued. "But it offers a window of opportunity for the United States to prepare the diplomatic ground for an eventual settlement of the conflict — a window that may get smaller over time if we do not act now."Beebe's prediction has proved prescient. Russia, now in a much stronger position, has far fewer reasons to grant concessions to Ukraine than it did a year ago. This does not necessarily mean that all is lost. If Congress can pass a new Ukraine aid package, then Kyiv may be able to at least hold onto the stalemate that has prevailed for much of the past year. This would create an opportunity to sue for peace, though likely on less favorable terms than were previously possible.But it does mean that maximalist goals — including the reconquest of Crimea, which Russia has held since 2014 — are that much less realistic now than they were in 2022. Even some mainstream Democrats are coming around to this position, as exemplified by recent comments from Rep. Adam Smith (D-Wash.), the top Democrat on the House Armed Services Committee."Realistically, Crimea is not coming back to Ukraine, and we can absolutely win this war and absolutely make a difference even in that reality," Smith said in a hearing Wednesday."We do not have to have Crimea to make it 1000% worth it to give Ukraine the money," he argued. "We need a sovereign democratic Ukraine that can survive."In other diplomatic news related to the war in Ukraine:— Three drones slammed into a Russian-occupied nuclear power plant in Zaporizhzhia, Ukraine, on Sunday, reigniting fears that the war could spark a nuclear accident, according to the BBC. Russia blamed Ukraine for the strikes, while Ukrainian officials argued that the Kremlin may have staged it as a "false flag" attack. The International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) said the attack was the first direct hit on the plant since late 2022 but noted that there are "no indications of damage to critical nuclear safety or security systems."— European states penned a new deal to enhance cooperation on protecting undersea infrastructure in the North Sea, according to Reuters, which noted that attacks on the Nord Stream pipelines in 2022 has focused attention on security issues along Europe's northern coast. Not noted in the Reuters report is the increasingly popular view that Ukraine or pro-Ukrainian forces were behind the attack. The pact — signed by Belgium, Denmark, Germany, Norway, the Netherlands, and the United Kingdom — mostly focuses on sharing information about threats to underwater cables and pipelines, with a focus on potential Russian malfeasance.— The European Union tightened restrictions on imports of Ukrainian produce in an effort to stem concerns that European farmers are being undercut by cheap goods from Ukraine, according to Politico. The issue has taken on particular salience in the run-up to the EU elections, with politicians anxious to avoid political costs from drawn-out fights with farmers, who have staged major protests in Poland and France. As Politico notes, the short-term tug of war over Ukrainian imports signals a larger problem: If Ukraine joins the EU, then farmers across the continent risk being put out of business by Kyiv's massive agricultural sector.— In The Hill, Sen. Mike Lee (R-Utah) argued that "peace talks remain the only viable option" to end the war in Ukraine. "No hard power endgame is viable for the U.S. in Ukraine, and the terms for Ukrainians get worse every minute the U.S. enables the continuation of this war," Lee wrote. "Our best hope to stop the bleeding is at the negotiating table. The blank checks must end, and American statecraft must start."U.S. State Department news:In a Monday press conference, State Department spokesperson Matthew Miller renewed the U.S. call for Russia to withdraw from the Zaporizhzhia power plant following this week's attacks. "Russia is playing a very dangerous game with its military seizure of Ukraine's nuclear power plant, which is the largest in Europe," Miller said. "We continue to call on Russia to withdraw its military and civilian personnel from the plant, to return full control of the plant to the competent Ukrainian authorities, and refrain from taking any actions that could result in a nuclear incident at the plant."

While the Biden administration has secured a deal with Israel and Hamas for a combat "pause," it remains to be seen if this leads to a formal cease fire or only allows for a brief respite before Israel resumes its bid to destroy Hamas. But what is clear is that Hamas's October 7 assault has shaken the assumptions of every player in the Middle East including Iran. Tehran's number one worry is that the assault could invite a regional war for which it was not prepared. Ground zero for such a conflict is the Lebanon-Israel theater. While Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah telegraphed in his November 3 speech that he wants to avoid war with Israel, he also insisted that "when we do receive the order to…take sides with Hamas against the Israelis, you will see the difference." Thus, he warned, "whoever wants to prevent a regional war, and I am talking to the Americans, must quickly halt the aggression in Gaza."If the Biden administration has been listening, so have Iran's leaders. They may yearn for Israel's destruction. But the last thing Tehran wants is for the "axis of resistance" that it has forged to be weakened by a regional conflagration that Iran did not seek. The purpose of Iran's alliances with militant groups in Lebanon, Syria, Iraq and Yemen is not Israel's elimination but rather the survival of the regime. Thus, Iran will have to find ways to support a pummeled Hamas as it contends with what could eventually be a wider global effort to rebuild Gaza as part of a new diplomatic initiative on the Palestinian-Israeli issue. To resist, while skirting the potential perils of resistance, is a dilemma that Hamas's "Al-Aksa Storm" has only deepened for Iran, and for Hezbollah.Deterrence and the paradox of "resistance"Lacking a powerful conventional military, Iran has deployed a "forward defense" strategy via alliances with armed non-state groups which have one primary mission: to deter the U.S. or Israel from attacking Iran. Beyond subcontracting Iran's defense to regional actors, this strategy gives Iran plausible deniability even as its allies periodically harass, intimidate or threaten Tehran's foes. This blurring of the lines between defense and offense carries risks, the most obvious of which is the possibility of spiraling escalation between Iran and its enemies. But a second risk is that Iran's regional allies might "go rogue" by taking on Israel or the U.S. in ways that could damage the deterrent architecture provided by the axis of resistance. Such a possibility has been ever-present in the Israel-Lebanon theater but has loomed even larger in the Gaza-Israel arena.For Tehran, Hezbollah's most important role is to deter an Israeli attack on Iran's nuclear facilities. Thus, it has provided Hezbollah with some 100,000 rockets, while Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard has helped transform Hezbollah's army—which includes some 22,000 fighters and an equivalent number of reserves—into a potent fighting force. Even with Israel's "Iron Dome" anti-missile system, by launching multiple rockets, experts argue that Hamas could hit all of Israel's main cities and inflict immense damage on refineries, water desalination plants, and industrial infrastructure. But, because Israel is capable of inflicting similar costs on Lebanon, the ultimate obstacle to a full-fledged Hezbollah-Israel war is the real prospect of "Mutually Assured Catastrophe," or MAC, for both countries. Knowing this, Hezbollah's role in the axis of resistance is to preserve its deterrent capacity (and that of Iran) by avoiding a full-fledged war with Israel.As for Hamas, while it has not received the kind of advanced armaments that Iran has given Hezbollah, it has used Iran's missiles, drones, training and funding to cause pain and draw Israel into costly military incursions -- but without posing an existential threat. Indeed, this situation facilitated Israel's efforts to divide Gaza from the West Bank. While Gaza's people have paid a high price for this modus vivendi, the Israel-Hamas stand-off has benifitted Iran. By giving its regional allies the means to harass Israel, Iran has kept the flame of "resistance" burning, but without risking a regional explosion that might prove costly for Hamas and Hezbollah. Iran's forward defense strategy has depended on walking this tricky path.October 7: Hamas goes quasi-rogue?Hamas' October 7 "Al Aksa Mosque Storm" has complicated Iran's forward defense strategy in two closely related ways:First, it underscored the risk that one or more of its allies might go rogue. After all, the attack hinged on an elaborate artifice of deception that not only surprised Israel but was also kept from both Hezbollah and Iran. Thus, Iran and Hezbollah responded to events as they unfolded while their leaders held that they had no forewarning of the attack. U.S. intelligence sources substantiated such claims, while Hezbollah's decision to move it forces to southern Lebanon following the Hamas attack suggested the improvised nature of its response. When Iranian Foreign Minister Hossein Amir Abdollahian insisted that Hamas "is not receiving orders from us" and is acting in its "own interests," he was probably not prevaricating. Instead, Abdollahian stated unambiguously that "we don't want this war to spread out."Second, Hamas's massacre of 1200 Israeli and foreign nationals and its seizure of at least 240 hostages has galvanized many Israelis behind a "war of destiny" the likes of which the Islamist organization has never witnessed. This, of course, may be exactly what Hamas envisioned. Indeed, at the very most, some of its forces were prepared to move towards the West Bank in the hope that Palestinians in the occupied West Bank and East Jerusalem — and in Israel — would rebel en masse. At the very least, Hamas's leaders hoped that their attack would shake up the entire region, even if this meant absorbing a terrible military blow and sacrificing thousands of civilian lives. But the prospect of a wider war that could burn its own regional assets was not something that Iran or Hezbollah sought.Dilemmas for Iran and HezbollahThe potential for a wider war has created a dilemma for Iran and Hezbollah. Neither can afford to let up on the pressure along the Lebanese border and in other arenas such as Syria, lest they be seen as failing to support Hamas. But, as the pace of deadly tit-for-tat attacks has escalated, the danger for Israel and Lebanon has increased. Quite apart from the lethal prospect of MAC is the possibility that Israel could refocus its military might on Lebanon and thus deliver a severe blow to Hezbollah. But if, as one expert has noted, it is unlikely that "Iranians want to sacrifice Hezbollah on the altar of Hamas," Tehran cannot risk signaling that it is ready to sacrifice Hamas on the altar of the axis of resistance. Iran's leaders face a conundrum for which there is no simple solution.Still, given their long-term interests, Iran's leaders must find a way forward that ensures that their regional allies can survive and project deterrence. For this purpose, they are resorting to their familiar carrot-and-stick approach. The stick is being wielded by Tehran's allies in Yemen and especially Iraq. Apart from demonstrating solidarity with Palestinians, the recent missile attacks on U.S. forces in Syria are meant to send the signal that U.S. forces will suffer a cost if Washington doesn't push for a formal cease-fire. The U.S. has retaliated after each assault in the hope that it can deter Iran's allies from escalating, but the potential for a widening confrontation between U.S. and pro-Iranian forces could increase dramatically if Israel resumes its assault in Gaza. As for the carrot, based on his early November talks with Qatar and Hamas, Foreign Minister Amir-Abdollahian set out the outlines of a deal, including a prisoner exchange between Hamas and Israel, an immediate halt to attacks, and the provision of humanitarian aid to Gaza. But, he added, "It is the American side that must decide whether it wants to escalate the war."This, of course, was the very question that the Biden White House had to address. Now that it has backed a truce, the White House might welcome an international efforts to press for a wider cease-fire. Not surprisingly, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has insisted that military operations will continue. But with the recent release of hostages, the pressure in Israel and abroad to expand the truce will increase, thus lessening the chances of a U.S.-Iran military confrontation that Washington and Tehran both want to avoid.Iran wants no war and no peaceWhatever the outcome of the Gaza conflict, two things are clear. First, Iran's leaders must rethink how to ensure that its allies do not use the umbrella of "deterrence" to pursue goals that could harm the axis of resistance. This will not be easy because the foot soldiers of Hamas and Hezbollah have long expected that the ultimate purpose of resistance is to crush Israel rather than to protect Iran's rulers. As one Hezbollah fighter put it, my "main fear is to die without liberating Palestine – but we can see it getting closer." Such hopes will be delt a further blow if a diplomatic process –backed by Iran-- opens up.Second, while the Gaza war has exposed the failures of the Biden administration's Middle East policy, the international community might still look to Washington to build on the November 24 truce in the hope that it can provide the basis for a wider effort to rebuild Gaza and, as Biden himself has proposed, to refocus U.S. policy on the issue of Palestinian statehood. In fact, the White House might try to recast the "Abraham Accords" in a manner designed to tackle, rather than circumvent, the Palestinian issue. Such an effort could have the support of European states and the blessings of Saudi Arabia and other Gulf states, including Qatar, which has emerged as a vital Gulf Arab ally of the United States.With U.S. elections looming on the horizon and a Middle East seizing with anger over Israel's devastation of Gaza, the window of opportunity for such an initiative will be very short. It is possible that Iran might activate the axis of resistance to sabotage any wider diplomatic process, especially if, as is likely, it excludes Hamas. But any bid by Iran to act as a spoiler could also again expose the fault lines in the axis of resistance. Indeed, having pushed for a cease-fire, Tehran must tread carefully. After all, Russia and especially China — which are effectively associate members of the axis of resistance — will probably back rather than undercut a broader diplomatic process.Such a possibility has prompted a debate in Iran regarding the costs and benefits of working with Russia and China, particularly given Beijing's role in securing a renewal of Saudi-Iranian relations earlier this year. One analyst has argued that "we operate within the framework of China and Russia's interests, without little to gain for ourselves." However exaggerated, this warning speaks to the contending interests that are at play in a widening axis of states and non-state groups, some of which will not automatically toe Tehran's line of no peace and no war.This article has been abridged from a previous version published by the Arab Center Washington DC.Dear RS readers: It has been an extraordinary year and our editing team has been working overtime to make sure that we are covering the current conflicts with quality, fresh analysis that doesn't cleave to the mainstream orthodoxy or take official Washington and the commentariat at face value. Our staff reporters, experts, and outside writers offer top-notch, independent work, daily. Please consider making a tax-exempt, year-end contribution to Responsible Statecraft so that we can continue this quality coverage — which you will find nowhere else — into 2024. Happy Holidays!

To celebrate International Youth Day 2020 Rachel Mims, Senior Program Officer for Youth Political Participation at NDI, is joined by three young leaders from Zambia, Lebanon, and Moldova. They discuss competitive youth debate as an opportunity to build political skills, actively contribute to solving social problems, and create greater space for youth inclusion in public life. For more information please go to https://www.ndi.org/youth-leading-debate
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Given Kapolyo: I don't believe in the saying young people are the future leaders. Because the truth is they tell us this for years and years and years, when I was 15 they told me you're a future leader, then I turned 20 and they said I'm a future leader, then they turned 25, and they said I'm a future leader, so then I'm now just waiting, I'm saying okay, when does the future come?
Now I think just this is time that we turn it around, and say young people should be the leaders of today, as well.
Rachel Mims: Today's young people deserve real opportunities to participate in political processes, and contribute to practical solutions that advance development. When given an opportunity to organize, voice their opinions, and play a meaningful role in political decision making, they consistently demonstrate their willingness and ability to foster positive lasting change. They also become more likely to demand and defend democracy, and gain a greater sense of belonging.
Recent global movements such as movements for climate justice and racial justice demonstrate that young people are demanding a shift in who has power, and in how that power is used, yet young people still find themselves marginalized from mainstream politics, and are limited in their ability to exercise the same influence over decision making processes. This is particularly true for young people who have experienced intersecting forms of marginalization and exclusion. At a time when global inequality is increasing, young people remain disproportionately impacted, and are expressing frustration with leaders and institutions that they perceive to be inaccessible, incapable, unresponsive, corrupt, and often repressive.
NDI works globally to support the political participation of young people through a variety of approaches that increase young people's agency, and create a more supportive environment. One approach involves helping young people develop competitive debating skills, including an issue analysis and framing, reasoning, public speaking, and active listening. NDI has supported [inaudible 00:02:05] programs in several countries, including longstanding programs in Jordan and Moldova, and more recent programs in Guatemala and Libya. We've seen the debate skills not only enhance political participation, but also contribute to holistic youth development. Debate builds practical skills that pave the way for young people to successfully engage in civil discourse and peaceful problem solving, both with their peers and with adult power holders.
I'm Rachel Mims, Senior Program Officer for Youth Political Participation at the National Democratic Institute, and today we are joined by three young leaders from Lebanon, Moldova, and Zambia, each working in different ways to apply their debate skills and actively contribute to solving social problems. As a result, they're creating greater space for youth inclusion in public life. First we'll hear from [Gibbon Carpolio 00:02:58]. Next up, Rachbenda Fou, and then Selena Decuzar. Welcome to Dem Works.
In Zambia, NDI partner with a chapter of the Center for Young Leaders of Africa, and Youth for Parliament, to gather young people from across political parties, media, and civil society organizations to debate solutions for increasing the number of young people in parliament. This debate program created an opportunity for youth from parties and civil society to change ideas, develop their public speaking and research skills, and to generate discussion around critical issues facing youth in Zambia.
We spoke with Given Kapolyo to learn more. Given, thank you for joining us today.
GK: Thank you so much for having me. It's a great pleasure to feature. First of all, I'm a young African female, my name is Given Kapolyo, I'm a young politician, I'm a student, I'm an activist, I'm an advocate, and a public speaker now. I can proudly call myself a public speaker, after I took part in the NDI public speaking that was called the Youth Debate Zambia.
I live in the northern part of Zambia. That's Kasama, northern province, Kasama, rural part of Zambia, so it was great that I was moved from the northern part of Zambia to the capital city, just to participate in the Youth Debate Zambia.
RM: Thank you, and thank you for telling us about all the different hats you wear. I hope to hear more about your activism, and other things that you're doing in politics.
Can you tell me more about your experience in the debate program? What was it like? What were some of the topics that you all discussed?
GK: We began with a training session. We covered the history of public speaking, we covered the tricks that we need for public speaking, how you draw the attention of a crowd, how you keep them engaged, and ordered. It was different young people from different parts of the country, and we were all brought together and were taught together, and then were given a topic. We were discussing how we can increase the number of young people in parliament, the number of youths in parliament, and it was a very profound experience, in the sense that we didn't just learn, then they'd give us a chance to actually show what we had learned from the training, and it was that interesting.
By the time we were leaving the training, there were people that were so confident to go back to their communities, and just speak change into their communities, into the crowds, and that was just how interesting, and just how meaningful it was to me and other participants that were there.
RM: I really love the point about public speaking, and this immediate sense of agency that young people feel, that they can go back and use their voice, and they have skills that they can start to put into use right away. Can you talk about the connection between some of the skills that you learned and your future political aspirations? I know that you're interested in running for public office.
GK: One of the things that we learned at the Youth Debate Zambia was that communication, public speaking and communication have a lot to do with politics, and with the youth standing out as a public figure, because it's they also mentioned how many great orators were [inaudible 00:06:34] were to get into public office because of how they spoke, how good they were at it, and the impacts that it just had in changing society.
For me as a young politician, first of all I must mention that the country that I'm from it's very difficult for a young female. First of all, it's very difficult for a female to make it into public office. It's even worse for a young female to make it. That, it also prepared me for how I could use my words to show people that not only will I be a voice for them, I could actually speak my heart out to them, tell them what my plans are, but then do it skillfully in a way that they buy into it, and are able to elect me, and even how because we dealt with topics on how you could make your speech relatable such that as you're telling your story somebody that is listening instantly feels like you're telling their story, and when they're able to relate with you it will be very easy for them to actually elect you as their leader, because they feel like you're a mirror of them, and then you can represent them better.
The training for me was actually a point that I think began a lot of things for me, because I knew I could speak, but then I didn't know I could use it to further my political ambition. When I went back home, in Kasana, I was able to speak to various groups. Just by me sharing my story with them, they were able to buy into the vision that I have for my ward, because I have aspirations of standing as a ward counselor next year, in our general elections, and it's been very helpful.
I've been able to know another important thing we learned is how you should be able to read your audience, so depending on who I'm talking to, I'm able to know which skills I should employ.
RM: Thank you. I know you can't see me, but I'm nodding vigorously over here, because you just shared, I think, so many important lessons with our listeners, just about how you can use these skills to further your political ambition, how things are different for young women, and how they face different barriers and challenges into getting into elected office, and how these skills help create an opening.
I want to talk about NDI's work in changing the face of politics, and it relates directly to what you mentioned about being a young woman in politics. NDI is launching a decade-long campaign to accelerate the pace of change on all aspects of women's empowerment, and that includes their participation in leadership and politics, and I wanted to hear from you what you think young people's role is in not only changing the face of politics, but ensuring that young women have a role to play, and can participate in politics.
GK: We need to become alive to the reality that our parents will not be here 10, 20, 30, 40, 50 years from now, it is us that will be here. Every time I'm speaking to young people about young people involvement in politics and leadership and decision making and getting involved in civic spaces, I'm always telling them if we don't get involved now, then we are simply selling our future off ... Not even selling it off, we're simply giving it off for free. Because whatever our ... Those that we leave leadership to today, whatever decisions they make, or whatever they choose to do with the resources that we have, whatever they choose to do with our nation, they will not be here to face the repercussions, we will be here.
Most of our parliament, the Zambian parliament has over 158 seats, and only 2 people are below the age of 35, only two people are youth, but if we do get young people involved, then we do get young people into parliament, we will know to say this decision that I'm making today, I'm only 27, so the decision that I'm making today, 30 years from now the chances that I still will be here to answer for it and to face the repercussions of if I make a bad decision will linger in my mind, for even as I make a decision I'm thinking I'm not thinking five years from now, I'm thinking 10, 15, 20, 30, 50 years from now, because I'm assured I will still obviously be here. I feel the time is now that young people actually take over and provide solutions to many of these challenges, and many of the problems that our country, our continent, and even the world is facing today.
RM: So many of the points that you just talked about really point to the need for this culture shift, and a culture change within politics. I think a lot of what you are advocating for, particularly about greater youth inclusion, can help contribute to that shift, and politics being more inclusive and representative of young people.
I just really want to thank you for taking time to talk with us today, and to share your thoughts, and I really want to wish you all the best in your run for office. I think you would make an amazing political leader, and I'm really excited to see what your future holds, and where you'll go after your participation as a young person in politics.
GK: Thank you so much. I look forward to where I go to, so I keep working towards it. And this I'm guaranteed that I will get there. Thank you so much for having me. It's been a pleasure having this conversation with you. I look forward to further interactions.
RM: Us as well. Thank you again.
For more than 35 years, NDI has been honored to work with thousands of courageous and committed democratic activists around the world, to help countries develop the institutions, practices, and skills necessary for democracy's success. For more information, please visit our website, at www.NDI.org.
In Lebanon, NDI is collaborating with the television station MTV Lebanon, for its weekly program, It's About Time, which features political leaders responding to questions from the host and from young people who have been trained in policy analysis and debate skills by NDI. MTV Lebanon hopes that by expanding debate culture in the country and by proving that young people can debate, they will pave the way for hosting Lebanon's first debates between national political leaders before the next elections in 2022. The show has achieved broad viewership, and resulted in viral moments on social media, with some political leaders saying that they tune in specifically to watch the youth debate segment. I would like to introduce everyone to Rafka Noufal, a junior Lebanese lawyer, and active participant on the debate show. Rafka, thank you for joining us for the podcast today.
Rafka Noufal: Thank you for having me with you today.
RM: I'd like to start with you giving us a brief introduction about your work, and your background, and what brought you to the debate show.
RN: I'm a 24-years-old Lebanese junior lawyer. I studied law in the Holy Spirit University, a Catholic University in Lebanon, and I just graduated from my masters to a degree. I also have a certificate of completion of the [inaudible 00:14:06] university program on international criminal law and procedures, and am a very social person who's interested in politics and in all the topics that are rising inside our country. When I knew about the TV political show It's About Time, through my university, I was very excited and more willing to join this show because I saw it as a platform to raise our voice as the young people in Lebanon, and to give our opinion and our thoughts on all the political and social and economic topics that are arising inside our society.
I work as a lawyer now, [inaudible 00:14:42] bar association, and I work in an office that takes private law cases and more specifically criminal law cases. Throughout my work, I got familiar with the gaps and insecurities inside the Lebanese legal system.
RM: I see so much connection between your ability to do this work as a lawyer and having the opportunity to dig into these pressing political issues on the debate show. Can you tell me a little bit more about your experience on the show, and talk about some of what you gained, whether it's skills that you gained, or kind of how the show maybe changed your perspective about politics?
RN: In fact, the different trainings we did with NDI were very useful on many levels. First of all, it developed our skills in public speaking, which is very important in the life of politics, and to my work also of the lawyer. Also, these trainings triggered the reason and the logic inside every mind of the young people who participate in the show, and it let us discuss and have conversations people from all over the country, so this debate program let us know how to discuss, how to debate topics without hurting other people's feelings, or other people's opinions.
RM: Can you tell me a little bit more about some of the topics that you debated on the TV show, and maybe topics that came up that were a bit more controversial, or there was more, there were maybe more emotions, or opinions that people really wanted to share?
RN: First off, my last debate at the show was about the early elections in Lebanon. I was supporting that we should have an early election in Lebanon, to change the members of the parliament, because the government in Lebanon now, even the parliament, they are not doing enough work in order to take us, or to help Lebanon go through this economic situation, this economic crisis we're going through right now in Lebanon. I was supporting the fact that we should be doing an early election, to change the leaders, to change the member of the parliament. We need young people to get inside the parliament. We need new, free minds, that are not attached to the past, they are not divided by sectarianism. We need a civil country, not a country that is divided by sectarianism.
RM: Can you talk a little bit more about your thoughts on the protest, and what you see as a way forward not only for young people in Lebanon, but the entire so many people across the country have been engaged in the protests, kind of what do you see as a vision, or a way forward?
RN: I would like to start by giving, talking about the problem between this disconnection, between young people nowadays in Lebanon, and the political parties, before talking about the protests. In fact, political parties in Lebanon are still attached to the past, and they divide young people by sectarianism. You should follow this party because you are from the sect that this party supports, or also I think that political parties inside Lebanon lack any vision for the future beyond their personal interests, and the most important point is that they deny the youth right to participate in decision making process, because they are political parties that are doomed with ... How to say it? Political inheritance, and the cultural hierarchy that says that elders know better than young people, but in fact when that's not the case when it's faced with reality, because every generation faces new challenges, different from the challenges that the other generation faced, so all of this adding to the corruption that grows like a tumor inside [inaudible 00:18:54] infecting all the aspects after [inaudible 00:18:58] for about like the environment, infrastructure, and economic crisis led to the birth of this protest and this revolution that emerged inside the streets of Lebanon.
RN: I think that young people, and I'm one of them, we saw this revolution as a window of hope to change the current corrupted situation in the country, and maybe to take part of the decision making process, to give our opinion, our thoughts.
RM: Do you see some of the topics that have come up in debates, and young people's desire to protest and take part in the revolution, do you see that as a meaningful pathway to change?
RN: I think so. I think young people believe in these social movements because these social movements are based on the free minds, and are detached from sectarianism, and from inequality between the Lebanese people, and maybe these social movements can create in the future political parties that can govern Lebanon and help it to develop like other countries in the world.
RM: This year, under the banner of of Changing the Face of Politics, NDI is launching a decade-long campaign to accelerate the pace of change on all aspects of women's empowerment, and that includes their participation in leadership and politics. I wanted to ask you what you see as young people's role in changing the face of politics, and ensuring that young women specifically can participate and have a meaningful role in politics, and particularly in the context of Lebanon, this new politics that you all are attempting to usher in.
RN: I think that [inaudible 00:20:44] young people are making a step to bridge this gap between politics and youth people, because they are taking on important issues, such as climate change, mass immigration, and even women empowerment, however, I think that we still have a bit of problem inside the third-world countries, but as for women empowerment, I think Lebanon and and outside in other countries young people believe in gender equality between man and woman, and they don't consider gender as an indication for holding a political position.
In fact, we support us young people that competence, performances and efficiency are the only conditions for judging a person in a position of power, and not being a woman or a man. Thus, if we take charge in Lebanon, I think you will see more women engaged in the politics. For example, right now in Lebanon we are demanding the vote of the law for women's quota in all Lebanese election as a step to engage more women in the political life of the country.
RM: Do you think that this culture of youth debate, and young people sharing their voices on these important political topics, do you think that this trend will continue, in that it's important that young people continue to use debate to speak out about politics?
RN: The debating concept is important because first, it lets you build constructive arguments in a persuasive way, and you don't only talk just to talk, you have to talk with a logic and reason. Young people can express their opinion with public speaking skills, and to accept the opinion of other people without deciding them, or offending them, as I mentioned before.
RM: I really want to thank you for taking time out to share more with us about your political experience, and to talk about the political trends that we're witnessing in Lebanon. I think that a lot of what you shared can be really relevant for young people, and for others that are participating in politics, to really understand how this development skills and development of knowledge around debate can be useful for a political career.
RN: I would like also to thank NDI for all the training they did with us, and it was really a lifetime experience with them, and with It's About Time show.
RM: Great. Thank you.
RN: Thank you so much.
RM: NDI has worked with thousands of young people on the art of competitive policy debate, and has ongoing debate programs in three regions. To learn more about NDI youth debate programs, or access program resources, visit the Youth Leading Debate Initiative, on NDI.org.
In Moldova, NDI is facilitating the seventh iteration of the Challenger Program, which aims to help create the next generation of political leaders, policymakers, and civil servants. Challenger equips young people with the knowledge and skills to develop realistic public policies that respond to the needs and priorities of the people in Moldova. The youth debates take place in the second phase of the program, the policy debate school. During the program, the participants acquire research and analytical skills, and they also take part in developing a youth manifesto, which addresses important national problems faced by young people in the country.
I would now like to introduce you to Silena, who is a member of the Challenger Program, and is going to join us to talk a little bit about her experience. Hey, Silena, thanks for joining us today.
Selina Dicusar: Hello. Thank you for having me.
RM: I'd like to just start with you giving us a brief introduction about yourself, and telling us about your experience in the program.
SD: Okay. My name is Selena Dicusar. I am 20-years-old. I was born in the Republic of Moldova. Currently, I'm studying Moldova, at the international relations.
SD: I am a member of the Communication PR Department of the Erasmus Student Network Chisinau, but elections are currently underway, and I will run for Vice President. I am also participant of Challenger, and a double winner of the Best Speaker Award.
RM: Selena, thank you for that introduction. Can you tell me about your experience in the Challenger Program, why did you decide to join in the first place, and what do you think you gained from your participation in the program?
SD: It's certainly the most complex intense and in depth project that I've ever been involved in. I've had a unique experience participating in a project which changed my attitude towards politics, and taught me new skills. Firstly, I learned to value my knowledge in terms of languages and to apply them correctly in research. Secondly, I have learned to think critically, and always question any information I receive or process. And last but not least, I learned how to develop solutions.
About opportunities, yes, what I gained in Challenger helped me to properly recommend myself to the mayor of my native village, and prove that my ideas will help improve the situation in the village.
RM: Thank you. I think you brought up some really excellent points, particularly about this need to challenge information that we receive from different sources, and to really kind of understand what's being proposed for our different communities. Can you talk a little bit more about some of the debate skills? You mentioned that they connect to your political participation outside the program. What about the debate component helps prepare you for political engagement outside the program?
SD: First of all, the debate helped me understand how to make a manifesto, because we are writing manifestos in the program, and I think this is one of the most important skills that I have learned, and that have certainly helped me to engage more in politics out of the program.
RM: Great. Thank you. I want to talk a little bit about I know that you do quite a bit of work on the local level, and that you've been doing some work with the local mayor, so I want to talk about this trend that we're seeing, which is a bit of a disconnect between young people and formal political institutions, and we're really seeing young people kind of disengage from formal politics. I'm wondering based on your work in the community and on the local level what you think about this trend in young people moving away from formal politics, and also if you think that working on a local level is part of a solution or a viable pathway for young people to participate in politics.
SD: First of all, it is mandatory that parties and politicians stop underestimating youth. They shouldn't only change their attitudes, but also encourage young people to join parties, giving them the opportunity to work on the issues that interest them, and unfortunately one of the biggest issues between young people, political institutions, and parties in Moldova that they don't hear each other. Young people are often not appreciated fairly, they are not heard, and these of course discourages them from further action.
Local political participation is certainly a viable path that many Moldovans are unaware of, specifically my case about three or four young people and one curator from another city work on projects in our city [inaudible 00:28:24], those are the critical shortage of young people work is proceeding slowly. Most likely this is due to the fact that such work requires time and dedication. Is almost not rewarded financially, and among our youth experience is not in the first place for all. The situation is improving, the new generation is more politically active.
RM: Thank you, Selena, and I think a lot of the points that you made about how parties need to change their strategy about the way that they engage young people is really important, and also this need to work at multiple levels, that we're working at the lower level, but we're also creating opportunities at the national level, too, and I think your work experience speaks to that as well.
I want to talk a bit about young women's participation. This year, under the banner of changing the face of politics, NDI is launching a decade-long campaign to accelerate the pace of change on all aspects of women's empowerment, and this includes women's participation in politics. I want to ask you what you feel like young people's role is in ensuring that the face of politics changes, and that young women have more opportunities to participate.
SD: First of all, it seems to me that the new generation which is now growing up is more aware of the problems that humanity faces. This is a generation that can embrace changes slowly, and their role in ensuring that participation of women in politics is first of all to learning how to accept the leadership of a woman, and question the abilities of women and men working in the same area on the wages of equal criteria, and to better involve young women in politics we must first of all educate them because an educated woman is a strong woman who can defend her interests.
RM: Thank you. I think you know the point about it being a generational change, I think that's echoed in the other, the conversations with other young people, as well, is it seems like this generation is more willing to ensure that participation is inclusive, and then that includes young women as part of the conversation.
I really want to thank you for joining us today, and for sharing some insights about your participation in the program, and how you see your participation in Challenger really helping create political space for young people. Is there anything you want to add, in closing?
SD: I would like very much to thank the people coming here that created this program. It's a big challenge for Moldova to teach a generation of people that is aware of politics, that can change the political situation in the country, and the political culture, as well. I think if we get to teach more people how politics works, probably there will be a positive change in my country.
RM: Again, I just want to thank you for joining us, and answering the questions. I really wish you the best of luck in everything that you pursue, moving forward.
SD: Thank you very much.
RM: Thank you to our listeners. To learn more about NDI, or to listen to other Dem Works podcasts, please visit us at NDI.org.


Podcast Participants; Given Kapolyo, Rafka Noufal, Selina Dicusar.



24. Increasing Youth Political Inclusion through Debate

Democracy (General), #NDI #National Democratic Institute #Women #Citizen Participation #Youth

Daniel Levine on Hidden Hands, Vocation and Sustainable Critique in International Relations











Daniel Levine is part of a new generation
of IR scholars that takes a more pluralist approach to addressing the hard and
important questions generated by international politics. While many of those
interviewed here display a fairly consistent commitment to a certain position
within what is often referred to as 'the debate' in IR, Levine straddles the boundaries
of a diverse range of positions and understandings. Time to ask for
elaboration.














Print version of this Talk (pdf)




What is, according
to you, the biggest challenge / principal debate in current IR? What is your
position or answer to this challenge / in this debate?






The
question I'd like us to be asking more clearly than we are is, 'are we a
vocation and, if so, what kind of vocation are we'? This points to a varied set
of questions that we, as scholars, gesture to but spend relatively little
theoretical time developing or unpacking. There's an assumption that the
knowledge we produce is supposed to be put good for something, practical in
light of some praiseworthy purpose. Even theorists who perceive themselves to
be epistemologically value-free hope, I think, at least on an intuitive level, that
some practical good will emerge from what they do. They hope that they are doing
'good work' in the sense that some Christians use this term. But, there is not
really a sustained project of thinking through how those works work: how our notions of vocation might
be different or even mutually exclusive, and how the differences in our notions
of vocation might be bound up in non-obvious ways to our epistemological,
methodological, and theoretical choices.







Moreover,
except for a few very important and quite heroic (and minoritarian) efforts, we
don't really have a way to think systematically about the structure of the
profession: how it influences or intervenes or otherwise acts on particular
ideas as they percolate through it, and how those ideas get 'taken up' into
policy. Brian Schmidt has
done work like that, so has Inanna Hamati-Ataya,
Ole Waever, Ido Oren,
Oded Löwenheim, Elizabeth Dauphinee, Naeem Inayatullah,
and Piki Ish-Shalom; and it's good work, but
they are doing what they are doing with limited resources, and I think without due
appreciation from a big chunk of the field as to why that work is important and
what it means.







When
I started writing Recovering
International Relations, I had wanted to recover the 'view from nowhere'
that many social scientists idealize. You know, that methodological conceit
where we imagine we are standing on Mars, watching the earth through a
telescope, or we're Archimedes standing outside of the world, leveraging it
with distance and dispassion. I had worked on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict
for a long time, was living in Tel Aviv, working for a think tank, and was—am—an
Israeli citizen and an American citizen. I had this somewhat shocking discovery
right after the Second Intifada broke
out. Most of my senior colleagues were deploying their expertise in what seemed
to me to be a very tendentious way: to show why the second Intifada was Yassar
Arafat's fault or the Palestinian Authority's fault—or, in a few cases, the
Israelis' fault. There were some very simplistic political agendas that were
driving this research. People were watching the evening news, coming into work
the next morning, and then running Ehud Yaari's commentary through their respective fact-values-methods mill. Or if they were
well-connected, they were talking to their friends on the 'inside', and doing
the same thing.







It
was hard to admit this for a long time, but I was very naïve. I found that very
unsettling and quite disillusioning. That's why the view from nowhere was so
appealing. I wanted to be able to talk about
Israel and Palestine without taking a position on Israel and Palestine—but without eschewing the expertise I had
acquired along the way, in part because I was
a party to this conflict, and cared about its outcome. I was young,
inexperienced, and slightly arrogant to boot—neither yet a scholar, nor an 'expert,'
nor really aware of the game I was playing. So my objections were not well
received, nor did I pose them especially coherently. To their credit, my senior
colleagues did recognize something worthwhile in my diatribes, and they did
their best to help me get into graduate school.







As the
project developed, and as I started engaging with my mentors in grad school, it
appeared that the view from nowhere was essentially impossible to recover. With
Hegel and with the poststructuralists, we can't really think from nowhere; the
idea of it is this kind of intellectual optical illusion, as though thinking
simply happens, without a mind that is conditioned by being in the world. Therefore,
there needs to be a process by which we give account of ourselves.







There
are a variety of different ways to consider how one might do that. There's what
we might call the agentic approach, in which we think through the structure of
thought itself: its limitations, our dependence on a certain image of thinking
notwithstanding those limits—thought's work on us, on our minds. This is closest
to what I do, drawing on Adorno and Kant, and Adorno's account of how concepts
work in the mind; how they pull us away from the things we mean to understand
even as they give us the words to understand them. And drawing on Jane Bennett, William Connolly,
Hannah Arendt, Cornel West, JoanTronto, and JudithButler to think through how one
conditions oneself to accept those limitations from a space of love, humility
and service. Patrick Jackson's (TheoryTalk #44) Conduct of Research in IR is quite
similar to this approach; and so is Colin Wight's Agents, Structures and International
Relations; though they use more philosophy of science than I do.







One
could also do this more 'structurally.' One could say 'this is how the academy
works and this is how the academy interconnects with the larger political
community' and then try to trace out those links: I mentioned Hamati-Ataya,
Oren, and Ish-Shalom, or you could think of Isaac Kamola,
Helen Kinsella, or
Srdjan Vucetic.








Any of
those approaches—or really, some admixture of them—would be pieces of that
project. I would like us to be doing more of that—alongside, not instead of,
all the other things we are already doing, from historical institutionalism to formal
modeling, to large-N and quantitative approaches, and normative, feminist and
critical ones. I would like such self-accounting to be one of the things
scholars do, that they take it as seriously as they take methods, epistemology,
data, etc. Driving that claim home in our field, as it's presently constituted,
is our biggest challenge.






How did you arrive at where you currently are in IR?






I'm 42,
so the Cold War was a big deal. I'm American-born, and I was raised in a pretty
typical suburb. John Stewart from the Daily
Show is probably the most famous product of my hometown, though I didn't
know him. My view of history was a liberal and progressive in the Michael
Waltzer/Ulrich Beck/Anthony Giddens, vein, but I was definitely influenced by
the global circumstances of the time, and by the 'End of History' discourse
that was in the air. I thought that the US was a force of good in the world. I
was a nice Jewish boy from New Jersey. I really wanted to live in Israel for
personal reasons, and the moral challenge of living in Israel after the
Intifada seemed to go away with the peace process. So, it seemed to me that it
was a kind of golden moment: you could 'render unto Caesar what was due to Caesar',
and do the same for the Lord. I could actually be a Jewish-Israeli national and
also a political progressive. (That phrase is, of course, drawn from the Gospels,
and that may give you some sense of how my stated religious affiliations might
have differed from the conceptual and theological structures upon which they actually
rested—score one for the necessity of reflexivity. But in any case, those
events were important.)







I moved
to Israel when I was 22 and was drafted into the military after I took
citizenship there. In the IDF, I was a low-level functionary/general laborer—a
'jobnik', someone who probably produces less in utility than they consume in
rations. Our job was to provide support for the combatants that patrolled a
certain chunk of the West Bank near Nablus—Shechem, as we called it, after the
biblical name. I was not a particularly distinguished soldier. But we were cogs
in a very large military occupation, and being inside a machine like that, you
can see how the gears and pieces of it meshed together, and I started taking
notice of this. Sometimes I'd help keep the diary in the operations room. You
saw how it all worked, or didn't work; or rather, for whom it worked and for
whom it didn't. All that was very sobering and quite fascinating.







I once
attended a lecture given by the African politics scholar Scott Straus, and he
said the thing about being present right after genocide is that you come across
these pits full of dead bodies. It's really shocking and horrific—there they
are, just as plain as day. Nothing I saw in the sheer level of violence compares
to that in any way—I should stress this. But that sense of it all just being out there, as plain as day, and being
shocked by this—that resonated with me. Everyone who cared to look could
understand how the occupation worked, or at least how chunks of it worked. So I
would say in terms of events, those things were the big pieces that structured
my thinking.







Here's two
anecdotal examples. Since I was a grade of soldier with very limited skills, I
was on guard duty a lot. We had a radio. I could hear the Prime Minister on the
radio saying we are going to strike so-and-so in response to an attack on such-and-such,
and then I could see helicopters pass overhead to Nablus, and then I could see
smoke. Then I could see soldiers come back from going out to do whatever it was
the helicopter had provided air support for. I'd see ambulances with red
crescents or red Stars of David rush down the main road. It began to occur to
me that there was a certain economy of violence in speech and performance. I
didn't think about it in specifically theoretical terms before I went back to
graduate school, but Israelis had been killed, political outrage had been
generated. There was a kind of affective deficit in Israeli politics that
demanded a response, and some amount of suffering had to be returned—so the
government could say it was doing its job. I found this very depressing. My odd
way of experiencing this—neither fully inside nor outside—is certainly not the
most important or authentic, and I'm not trying to set myself up as an expert
on this basis. I'm only trying to account for how it made me think at the time
and how that shows up in what and how I write now.







Later,
when I was in the reserves, I was in the same unit with the same guys every
year. One year, we were lacing our boots and getting our equipment for our
three weeks of duty in a sector of the West Bank near Hebron, I think it was. I
remember one guy, one of the more hawkish guys, said 'we'll show 'em this time,
we'll show them what's what'. Three weeks later, that same guy said 'Jeez, it's
like we're like a thorn in their backside; no wonder they hate us so much.' (He
actually used some colorful imagery that I can't share with you.) I remember
thinking, 'well, ok, he'll go home and he'll tell his family and his friends;
some good will come of this.' The next year, I saw the same guy saying the same
thing at the start, 'we'll show those SOBs.' And then three weeks later, 'oh my
God, this is so pointless, no wonder they hate us…' So after a few years of
this I finally said to him, 'tagid, ma
yihiyeh itcha?'—Like, dude, what's your deal? 'We've had this conversation every year! What happens to you in
the 48 weeks that you're not here that you forget this?' And I think he looked
at me like, 'what are you talking about?'







I
thought about that afterwards: we have these moments of experience when we're
out of our everyday environment and discourse, the diet of news and fear, PR
and political nonsense—that's when these insights become possible. So, when
this guy comes in and says 'ok, we'll get those SOBs,' he's carrying with him this
discourse that he has from home, from the news and TV, from his 'parliament'
with his friends where they get together and talk about politics and war and
economics and whatever else—and then a few weeks of occupation duty disrupts
all that, makes him see it in a different light, and he has these kinds of
fugitive experiences which give him a weirdly acute critical insight. Suddenly,
he's this mini-Foucault.







In a
few weeks, though, he goes back to his life, there's no space or niche into
which that uncomfortable, fugitive insight can really grow, so it just sort of
disappears or withers on the vine, its power is dissipated. This is a very
real, direct experience of violence and it's covered over by all of this
jibber-jabber. So there's a moment where you start to wonder: what exactly
happens there? What happens in those 48 weeks? What happens to me during those weeks? You can see how a
kind of ongoing critical self-interrogation would evolve out of that. Again,
none of those things are exactly what my book's about, but it gives you a sense
of how you might find Adorno's kind of critical relentlessness and negativity vital
and important and really useful and necessary. You can see how that might
inform my thinking.







In
terms of books, as an undergraduate, I had read, not very attentively, Said and
Foucault, and all of the stuff at the University of Chicago we had to take in
what they called the 'Scosh Sequence,' from sociologists like Elijah Anderson
and William Julius Wilson to Charles Lindblom and Mancur Olsen: texts from the
positive and the interpretive to the post-structural. I had courses with some
very smart Israeli and Palestinian profs—Ephraim Yaar, Salim Tamari, Ariela
Finkelstein. And of course Rashid Khalidi was there at that time. Once I was in
the military, the Foucault and Said suddenly started popping around in my head.
Suddenly, this sort of lived experience of being on guard duty made the
Panopticon and the notion of discipline go from being a rather complicated,
obscure concept to something concrete. 'Oh! That's
what discipline is!'







When I
went back to graduate school, I was given a pretty steady diet of Waltz,
rational deterrence theory, Barry Posen, Stephen Walt (Theory Talk #33), and Robert Jervis (Theory Talk #12). Shai
Feldman was a remarkable teacher, so were Ilai Alon in philosophy, Shlomo
Shoham in sociology and Aharon Shai in History. Additionally I had colleagues
at work who were PhD students at the Hebrew University working with Emanuel Adler;
they gave me Wendt (Theory Talk #3), Katzenstein's (TheoryTalk # 15) Culture of National Security, Adler and
Barnett, and Jutta Weldes' early article on 'Constructing National Interests'
in the EJIR (PDF here).
My job was to help them publish their monographs, so I got really into the guts
of their arguments, which were fascinating. I am not really an agency-centered
theory guy anymore and I am not really a constructivist anymore, but that stuff
was fantastic. I saw that one could write from a wholly different viewpoint,
perspective, and voice. This is all very mainstream in IR now, but at the time,
it felt quite edgy, very novel. Part of the reason why the middle chapters of Recovering IR has these long discussions
about different kinds of constructivism is that I wouldn't have had two
thoughts to rub together if it was not for those books. I do disagree with them
now and strongly, but they were very important to me all the same.






What would a student need to become a specialist in IR or understand the
world in a global way?






I'd be
more comfortable answering that question as someone who was, until relatively
recently, a grad student. I've not been productive long enough to say 'Well,
here's how to succeed in this business and be a theorist of enduring substance
or importance' with any authority. But I can say, 'here's how I'm trying to be
one.' There's a famous article by Albert O. Hirschman called 'The Principle of
the Hiding Hand,' (PDF here)
and in it he says that frequently, the only way one can get through really
large or complicated projects is to delude oneself as to how hard the project
is actually going to be. He takes as an example these ambitious, massively
complicated post-colonial economic projects of the Aswan High Dam variety. The
only way such enormous projects ever get off the ground, he says, is if one
either denies their true complexity or deludes oneself. Otherwise you despair
and you never get it done. From the first day of seminar to dissertation
proposal to job—thank God I had no idea what I was in for, or I might have
quit.







Also,
the job market being what it was, we had to be very, very passionate scholars who
wrote and argued for the sheer intellectual rush and love of writing. And yet,
we also had to be very practical and almost cynical about the way in which the
academic market builds on the prestige of publications and the way in which
prestige becomes shorthand for your commodity value. At least in the US, the
decline of tenure and the emergence of a kind of new class of academics whose
realm of responsibility is specifically to engage in uncomfortable kinds of
political and moral critique—but without tenure, and at the mercy of a sometimes
feckless dean, an overburdened department chair or fickle colleagues—that's very scary. If you're doing 'normal
science', it's a different game and the challenges are different. But if your
job is to do critique, in the last ten years, it's a very big deal. Very
difficult. I'm very fortunate in that regard; at Alabama I've had great support
from my department, my chair, and my college.







I was a
Johns Hopkins PhD, and my department was fantastic in terms of giving me
support, encouragement, getting out of my way while throwing interesting books
at me, reading drafts that were bad and helping me make them good—or at least
telling me why they were bad. We did
not get particularly good professional training, because I think they did not
want us to get professionalized before we found our own voice. I'm really
grateful for that, truly. But then there's this period in which you have to
figure out how to make your voice into a commodity. That's really tough, it's a
little bit disheartening—even to discover that you must be a commodity is dismaying; didn't we go into the academy to avoid
this sort of logic? But just like Marx says, commodities have a double life, and
so do you. The use-value of your scholarship and its exchange-value do not
interlock automatically and without friction. So you spend all this time on the
use-value of it—writing a cool, smart, interesting dissertation—thinking that
will translate into exchange-value, and it turns out that it sort of does, but
a lot of other things translate into exchange-value too that aren't really about
how good your work is necessarily. And many of your colleagues, if what you're
doing is original, won't really understand what you're doing; the value or the
creativity of it won't be apparent to them unless they spend a lot of time sifting
through your bad drafts of it, which only a few—but God bless those—will do. So
how you create exchange-value for yourself is important. So is finding people
who will care about you, your project, your future—and learning when to take
their advice, when to ignore it, and how to do so tactfully.







If all that's
hard, you're probably doing it right. It's unfortunate that that's how it is,
but at all events, that's how it was for me.











Would you elaborate on the concept of
vocation and why this is so important to the view from nowhere? It is important
to say that the view from nowhere is perhaps difficult. So is vocation, or a
kind of Weberian approach, a way to articulate that for you?







There's
a quote in a book from a Brazilian novelist named Machado de Assis. His
protagonist is this fellow Bras Cubas, who's writing a posthumous memoir of his
own life. He's writing from beyond the grave. From there, he can view his whole
life and his entire society from outside; he's finally achieved positivism's
view from nowhere. But the thing about this view—and the book means to be a
sendup of the Comtean positivism that was fashionable in Brazil in those
days—is that it gives him no comfort. He now knows why he lived his life the
way he did; how he failed and what was—and what was not—his fault. The
absurdity of it all makes sense. But it changes nothing: he has died
unfulfilled, unloved, and essentially alone: a minor poet and back-bench politician
who was ultimately of little use to anyone nor of much to himself. All he knows
is how that happened.







In the
end, if we're all playing a role in how a world comes into being and it's in
some sense our job simply to accept this, and our job as scholars merely to
explain it, this gives us no comfort in the face of suffering, in the face of
violence and evil. To some extent as scholars, and to some extent as a
discipline, we exist as a response to evil, to suffering, to foolishness, to
folly; it's not a coincidence that the first professorship of IR is created in
Britain in the wake of WWI, and that it's given to someone like E. H. Carr.







If we
don't have a view from nowhere because we've given up anything like a moral
sense that can't be reduced to fractional, material, or ideological
sensibilities, and if we know that sometimes those 'views from somewhere' can
provide cover for terrible kinds of evil or justify awful kinds of suffering,
then the notion of vocation seems to come in at that point and say well,
'here's what I hope I'm doing', or 'here's what I wish to be doing', or 'here's
what I'd like to think I'm doing', and then allowing others to weigh in and
give their two cents. Vocation, in the sense of Weber's lectures, comes out of
that. It's Kant for social scientists: What can I know? What should I do? For
what may I hope? In other words, what the necessity and obligation of thinking
is on the one hand, and on the other what its limitations are.







This is
a way to save International Relations from two things: one, from relativism and
perspectivism, and the other, from a descent into the technocratic or the
managerial. I am trying to stand between the two. My own intellectual
background was in security studies at Tel Aviv University in the 1990s: the
period immediately after Maastricht, in the period of the Oslo Process, the end
of Apartheid. My hope back in the days when the peace process seemed to me to
be going well was that I'd be able to have a kind of technocratic job in
Israel's Ministry of Foreign Affairs or Defense. Counting tanks, or something
similar. I thought that would be a pretty good job. I would be doing my part to
maintain a society that had constructed a stable, long-term deterrent by which
to meaningfully address the problem of Jewish statelessness and vulnerability,
but without the disenfranchisement of another people. I could sit down and
count my tanks with a clear conscience, because the specter of evil was being
removed from that work. The problem of the occupation was being be solved.
Again, it's somewhat embarrassing to admit this now.







I would
say in the US academy, there is definitely a balance in favor of the
technocrats. We have enormous machines for the production and consumption of
PhDs in this country. The defense establishment is an enormous player. Groups
like the Institute for Defense Analysis need a lot of PhDs, the NSF funds a lot
of PhDs (for now, at least), and that tips the balance of the profession in a
certain way. My ability to use ideas compellingly at ISA won't change that fact
all by itself, there's a base-superstructure issue in play there.







In
Europe, it's a different story, for a bunch of reasons. The defense
establishments of the EU member states aren't as onerous a presence. And, there
are more of them; so there's a kind of diversity there and a need to think
culturally about how these various institutions interlock and how people learn
to talk to each other: the Martha Finnemore-to-Vincent Pouliot-to-Iver Neumann (Theory Talk #52) study of ideas and institutions and
officials. Plus, you have universities like the EUI and the CEU, which are not
reducible to any particular national interest or education system; creating
knowledge, but for a political/state form that's still emergent. No one knows
exactly what it is, what its institutions and interests will ultimately be.
Because of that, it's hard to imagine the EUI producing scholars with obviously
nationally-inflected research programs, like Halford Mackinder,
Mahan, Ratzel from a century
ago. There will still be reifications and ideologies, but there's more 'give'
since the institutions are still in play. And there's fantastically interesting
stuff happening in Australia, and in Singapore—think of people like Janice
Bialley-Mattern, Tony Burke and Roland Bleiker.











Critique has a long and controversial
history in our discipline. Could you perhaps elaborate, as a kind of background
or setting, how critique can be used in IR and why you've placed it at the
center of your approach to IR theory?







Critique
as term of art comes into the profession through Robert Cox (Theory Talk #37) and through the folks that were writing
after him in the '90s, including Neufeld, Booth, Wyn-Jones, Rengger, Linklater and
Ashley—though pieces of the reflexive practice of critique are present in the
field well before. For Cox, the famous line is that theory is always 'for
something and for someone.' The question is, if that's true how far down does
that problem go? Is it a problem of epistemology and method, or is it a problem
of being as such, a problem of ontology? Is it fundamental to the nature of
politics?







If the
set of processes to which we refer when we speak of 'thinking' is inherently
for someone and for something, and that problem harkens back to the idea that
all thinking is grounded in one's interests and perspectives, i.e., that all
practical or systematic attempts to understand politics are 'virtuous' in the
Machiavellian sense (they serve princely interests) but not necessarily in the Christian
sense (deriving from transcendent values), then we have a real problem in keeping
those two things separate in our minds. Think of Linklater's book Men and Citizens in International Relations
as a key node in that argument, though Linklater ultimately believes (at least
in that book) that a reconciliation between the two is possible. I'm less
convinced.







Now
recall the vocation point we discussed before. IR as a discipline has a deep
sense of moral calling which goes beyond princely interest. And the traditions
on which it draws are as much transcendently normative as anything else. So
encoded in our ostensibly practical-Machiavellian analyses is going to be
something like a sense of Christian virtue; we'll believe we're not merely
correct in our analyses, but really and
truly right in some otherworldly, transcendent way. True or not, that sense
of conviction will attach itself to our thinking, to the political forces and
agendas that we're serving. We'll come to believe that we are citing
Machiavelli in the service of something greater: whether that's 'scientific
truth' or the national interest, or what have you. Nothing could be more
dangerous than that. Critique, as an intervention, comes here: to dispel or
chasten those beliefs. Harry Gould, Brent Steele, and especially Ned Lebow (Theory Talk #53) write about prudence and a sense of
finitude: these are the close cousins of this kind of critique.







If we
take seriously the notion that people sometimes fight and kill in the service
of really awful causes while believing they are doing right, and that scholars
sometimes help them sustain those convictions rather than disabuse them of them—even
if they do not intend this—then critique becomes an awfully big problem and it
really threatens to undermine the profession as such. It opens up a whole new
level of obligation and responsibility, and it magnifies what might otherwise
be staid 'inside baseball'—Intramural scholarly or methodological debates. Part
of the reason why the 'great debates' were so great—so hotly fought—had to do
with this: our scholarly debates were, in fact, ideological ones.







It
undermines the field in another way as well. If we take critique seriously,
there's got to be a lot of moral reflection by scholars. That will make it hard
to produce scholarship quickly, to be an all-purpose intellectual that can
quickly produce thought-product in a policy-appropriate way, because I will
want to be thinking from another space, and of course precisely what
policy-makers want is that you don't
think from some other space; that you present them with 'shovel ready' policy
that solves problems without creating new ones.







So you
now have not just a kind of theoretical or methodological interruption in the
discussion of, say, absolute or relative gains. You now have to give an account
of yourself. And for me, that's what critique in IR means. To unpack the
definition I gave above, it's the attempt to give an account of what the duties
and limits of one's thinking are in the context of politics, given the nature
of politics as we understand it. Because IR comes out of the Second World War,
we're bound to take the most capacious notions of what political evil and
contingency can be; if we are not always in the midst of genocide and ruin,
then we are at least potentially so. And so contingency and complexity and all
the stuff that we're talking about must face that. I want to hold out that Carl
Schmitt and Hans Morgenthau might be
right—in ways which neither they, nor I, can completely fathom. Then I have
to give accounts of thinking that take a level of responsibility commensurate
with that possibility.







In that
vein, when I look at accounts of thinking in the context of the political, when
I look at what concepts are and how they work and how they do work on the world
so that it can be rendered tractable to thought, I realize that what we come up
with when we're done doesn't look very much like politics anymore. We have
tools which, when applied to politics, change it quite dramatically; they reify
or denature it. To be critical in the face of that, you're going to be obliged
to an extensive degree of self-interrogation and self-checking, which I call chastening.







That process
of chastening reason, is, in effect, what remains of the enlightenment obligation
to use practical reason to improve what Bacon called the human estate. What's
left of that obligation is to think in terms of the betterment of other human beings
as best as you can, knowing you can't do that very well, but that you may still
be obliged to try.







That's
really hard to do and it's an odd form of silence and non-silence. After all,
if I were to look at the Shoah while it was happening, or look at what happened
in Rwanda, and say 'well, I don't really have a foundational position on which
to stand so I can't analyze or condemn that'—that would not be a morally
acceptable position. Price and Reus-Smit (TheoryTalk #27) say this
in their 1998 article and they are absolutely right. But then there's the fact
that I don't quite know what to say beyond 'stop murdering people!' The world
is so easy to break with words, and so hard to put back together with them—assuming
anyone cares at all about anything we say. So I am obliged to respond to those
kinds of events when I see them, and I am also obliged to acknowledge that I
can't respond to them well, because my authority comes from the conceptual tools
I have, and they aren't really very good. Essentially, what I'm doing as
scholar of IR is the equivalent is using the heel of my shoe to hammer in a nail.
(That's a nice line, no? I wish it was mine, but it's Hannah Arendt.) It will
probably work, but it will take a while, and the nail won't go in so straight. To
chasten one's thinking is to remind oneself that the heel of one's shoe is not
yet a hammer; that all we're doing is muddling through—even when we do our work
with absolute seriousness and strict attention to detail, context and method—as
of course we should.











You discuss IR theory in terms of different
reifications. In which was does that also lead you to take a stand against a Weberian
understanding of IR?







I think
where I depart from Weber is that he has more faith than I do that, at some
point, disenchantment produces something better. There is faith or hope on
their part that the iron cage that we experience as a result of disenchantment
and as a result of the transformation from earlier forms of charismatic and
traditional authority to contemporary rational ones won't always be oppressive,
not forever. New forms and ways of being will emerge, in which those
disenchanted modes actually will fulfill their promise for a kind of
improvement in the human estate. If it's a long, complicated process—hence the
image of slow boring into hard wood—but faith is still justified, good things
can still happen.







For me,
the question is how would you manage a society that is liable to go insane or
to descend into moments of madness because of the side-effects or intervening
effects of disenchantment and modernization, while holding fast to the notion
that at some point, this is going to get better for most people? I'm a bit less
certain about that than I read Patrick and Weber being. I think that even if
they're right, it makes sense morally as scholars, not necessarily as citizens
or individuals or people, to dwell in the loss of those who fall along the way.








I find
myself thinking about the people who are gone a lot. My ex-wife teaches on
slavery, and I think a lot about this terrible thing she once told me. On slave
ships, when there was not enough food they would throw the people overboard
because ship masters got insurance money if their property went overboard, but
not if human beings succumbed on-ship. There's a scene depicting this in
Spielberg's film Amistad and it
haunts me. I find myself thinking about those people, dragged under with their
chains. I wonder what they looked like, what they had to say. I wonder what
they might have created or how their great-great grandchildren children would
have played with my child. I wonder if my best friend or true love was never
born because her or his ancestor died in this way. An enormous number of people
perished. I can't quite believe this, even if I know it's true.







Yoram
Kaniuk, the recently deceased Israeli novelist, wrote that the Israeli state was
built on the ground-up bones of the Jews who couldn't get there because it was
founded too late. I wonder about them too. And when I taught course modules on
Cambodia, I would find myself looking at the photographs made of the people in
Tuol Sleng before they were killed, the photo archives which the prison kept
for itself. There is a mother, daughter, father, brother, son, and I find
myself drawn into their eyes and faces. I don't want those people to disappear
into zeros or statistics. I want somehow to give them some of their dignity
back, and I want to dwell in the tragic nature my own feeling because it bears
remembering that I cannot ever really do that. If I remember that, I will have
some sense of what life's worth is, and I won't speak crassly about
interventions or bombings or wars—wherever I might come down on them. I would
say that it's almost a religious obligation to attend to the memory of those
people. My desire to abide with them makes me very, very suspicious of hope or
progress. I want this practice of a kind of mourning or grief to chasten such
hope.







There's
a problem with that position. Some will point out to me that this will turn
into its own kind of Manichean counter-movement, a kind of Nietzschean ressentiment. Or else that dwelling in
mourning has a self-congratulatory quality to it. And there are certainly
problems with this position at the level of popular or mass politics. We do see
a lot of ressentiment in our
politics. On the left, there's a lot of angry, self-aggrandizing moral
superiority. And you can think about someone like Sarah Palin in the US as a
kind of populist rejection of guilt and responsibility from the right.







But as social
scientists, we might have space to be the voice for that kind of grief, to take
it on and disseminate the ethics that follow from it; to give that grief a
voice. That kind of relentless self-chastening is what I'm all about. I think
it opens you up to new agendas and possibilities. I think it's a much deeper
way to be 'policy relevant' than most of my colleagues understand this term. If
we are relentlessly self-critical as scholars, and if we relentlessly resist
the appropriation of scholarly narratives to simplistic moral or political ends
and if we, as a society, help to build an intolerance of that and a sense of
the mourning that comes out of that, we also open our society up to say things
like, 'ok, well what's left?'







And
then, well, maybe a lot of things are left, and some of them are not so bad. Maybe
we start to imagine something better. That's where I'd rejoin Jackson and
Weber; after that set of ethical/emotional/spiritual moves. I think, by the
way, that Patrick mostly agrees with me; it's only a question of what his work
emphasizes and what mine has emphasized. On this point, consider Ned Lebow's
notion of tragedy. He and I disagree on some of the details of that notion. But
on top of his remarkable erudition, he's a survivor of the Shoah. I suspect he has thought very deeply about grief and
mourning, and in ways that might not be open to me.











The final question I want to pose to you is
a substantive one: Your understanding of critique somehow does relate to
sustaining progress, in a way. Perhaps on the one hand, you are not so
optimistic as Weber was, but on the other hand, your work conveys the sense
that it is possible to bridge the gap between concepts and things. I'm not sure
if it's possible, but perhaps you can relate it to the substantive example of
how your work relates to concrete political situations. I think the example of
Israel-Palestine comes to mind best.







Again,
I don't think I am as optimistic as that. In my heart of hearts, I desperately
wish this to be the case. To think of the people who were most influential on
my intellectual development—my cohort of fellow grad students at Johns Hopkins
and our teachers, to whom as a group I owe, really, everything in intellectual
terms—I was certainly in the minority view. Most of them were, I think, working
in the Deleuzian vein of making 'theory worthy of the event.' I just don't
believe that's possible; or anyway I think it's really, really, really hard, the work of a generation to tell that
story well and have it percolate out into our discipline and our culture. In
the meantime, we must muddle through. I hope I'm wrong and I hope they're
right. I'm rooting for them, even as I try to give them a hard time—just as I
give Keohane (Theory Talk #9)
and Waltz and Wendt and everyone else I write about a hard time. But I'd be happy, very happy, to
be wrong.







What I
do think can be done is that you can sustain an awareness of the space between
things-in-themselves and concepts, and by extension some sense of the fragility
and the tenuousness of the things that you think and their links to the things
that you do. Out of this emerges a kind of chastened political praxis.







You mentioned
Israel and Palestine, which I care a great deal about and am trying to address
more squarely in the work I'm doing now, partly on my own and partly in pieces I've
worked on with my colleague Daniel Monk. What we observe is that though the diplomatic
negotiations failed pretty badly twelve and a half years ago, we're still
looking at the same people running the show: the same principal advisers and
discussants and interlocutors: in the US and Israel and in the Palestinian Authority.
The same concepts and assumptions too. Just a few days ago, Dennis Ross
published a long op-ed about how we get the peace process back on track, and
you might think that you're reading something from another time—as though the
conflict were a technical challenge rather than a political one. You know that
Prince song about 'partying like it's 1999'?







I don't
know what a peaceful, enriching, meaningful Israeli-Jewish-Arab-Palestinian-Muslim-Christian
collective co-existence or sharing of space or world looks like, but I know
that this pseudo-politics ain't that. When I see something that's just a
re-hashing, I can say, 'come on guys, that is not thinking, that's recycling
the old stuff and swapping out dates, proper nouns and a few of the verbs.' Nor
is it listening to other voices who might inspire us in different ways, or
might help us rethink our interests, categories and beliefs. Lately, I've been
listening to a band called System Ali, hip-hop guys from Jaffa's Ajami quarter,
who sing in four languages. What they say matters less to me than the fact that
they really seem to like another, they trust each other, they let each voice
sing its song and use its words. They have something to teach me about
listening, thinking, acting and feeling—because it's music after all—and that
can produce its own political openings.







Of course,
there are pressure groups, from industry and AIPAC to
whatever else in the US, and those groups merit discussion and debate, but I'm
also wary of the counter-assumption which follows from folks who talk about
this too reductively: that there actually is an American interest, or a
European or Arab or Israeli one, which somehow transcends partisan interest—one
that can be recovered once the diaspora Jews, the oil moguls, the arms dealers
or the Christian 'Left Behind' people are taken out of the picture. That feels
like the same heady brew that Treitschke and Meinecke and the German realpolitik scholars poured and drank:
that the national state has some transcendent purpose to which we gain access
by rising above or tuning out the voices of the polity or its chattering
classes. Only with a light liberal-internationalist gloss: Meinecke meets David
Lake (Theory Talk # 46),
Anne-Marie Slaughter or John Ikenberry.







I can
also go meet starry-eyed idealists who want to hold hands and sing John Lennon,
I can say to them yes, I want to hold your hand and sing John Lennon, but I am
also enough of a social scientist to know that if a policy does not respond to
real and pressing problems—water, land, borders etc.—that any approach that
does not respond to those things will be hopelessly idealist. It will be what
my granny called luftmentsch-nachess—the
silly imaginings of men with their heads in the clouds, like the parable about Thales
and the Thracian maiden. I am not interested in being either a luftmentsch nor a technocrat. So what
does that leave with you with? You need to balance.







You can
look at groups at the margins of political culture to see what they can tell
you. In Israel and Palestine, it's groups like Ta'ayush, Breaking the Silence and Zochrot, and this settler
leader who recently died, Rabbi Frohman, who was going out and meeting every
Palestinian leader he could because for him, being a Jew in the land was not,
in the first instance about his Israeli passport. There were and are
possibilities for discussion that feel really pregnant and feel very different
from the conversation we are sustaining now; which reveal its shallowness and
its limitations and its pretentiousness. These other voices are of course not
ideal either, they are going to have their own problems and limitations, their
own descent into power and exclusion and so on, but they reveal some of the lie
of what we're doing now.







I guess
in the end, social scientists make a living imagining the future on the basis
of the past. I also spend a lot of time reading novels and watching books and
films. Partly because I am lazy and I like them. Partly because I'm looking for
those novels and films to help me imagine other possibilities of being that
aren't drawn from the past. Art, Dewey tells us in The Public and its Problems,
is the real bearer of newness. Maybe then, I get to grab onto those things and
say ok, what if we made those them responsive to an expansive materialist
analysis of what an Israeli-Palestinian peace would need to survive? What if we
held the luftmentsch's feet to the
materialist/pragmatic fire, even as we held the wonk's feet to the luftmentsch's fire? Let them both squeal
for a while. There's possibility there.







Daniel J. Levine is assistant professor at the University of Alabama. Among his recent publications (see below) stands out his book Recovering International Relations.



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Related links








Faculty Profile at U-Alabama
Read the first chapter of Levine's Recovering IR (2012) here (pdf)
Read Barder and Levine's The World is Too Much (Millennium, 2012) here (pdf)
Read Levine's Why Morgenthau was not a Critical Theorist (International Relations, 2013) here (pdf)
Read Monk and Levine's The Resounding Silence here (pdf)




Print version of this Talk (pdf)

Cass Sunstein has a lovely New York Times essay that tries to give us back the word "Liberal." I hope it works. "Liberal" from "Libertas" means, at bottom, freedom. In the 19th century, "liberals" were devoted to personal, economic, and increasing social freedom from government restraint.  "Conservatives" wanted to maintain aristocratic privileges, and government interventions in the traditional way of doing things. The debate was not so obvious. Conservatives defended their view of aristocratic power in a noblesse-oblige concern for little people that the unfettered free market might leave behind, in a way quite  reminiscent of today's elites who think they should run the government in the name of the downtrodden (or "nudge" them, if I can poke a little fun at Sunstein's earlier work). But by the 1970s, the labels had flipped. "Liberals" were advocates of big-state interventionism, in a big tent that included communists and marxists. It became a synonym of "left." "Conservatives" became a strange  alliance of free market economics and social conservatism. The word "classical liberal" or "libertarian" started to be used to refer to heirs of the enlightenment "liberal" tradition, broadly emphasizing individual liberty and limited rule of law government in both economic and social spheres. But broadly, "liberal" came to mean more government intervention and Democrat, while "conservative" came to mean less state intervention and Republican, at least in rhetoric.  But a new force has come to the fore. The heirs of the far-left marxists and communists are now, .. what shall we call them.. perhaps "censorious totalitarian progressives." Sunstein calls them "post liberals." The old alliance between center-left and far left is tearing apart, and Oct 7 was a wake up call for many who had skated over the division. Largely, then, I read Sunstein's article as a declaration of divorce. They are not us, they are not "liberals." And many of you who call yourselves "conservatives," "free marketers" or even "libertarians" should join us to fight the forces of illiberalism left and right, even if by now you probably completely gave up on the New York Times and read the Free Press instead. Rhetoric: Sunstein is brilliantly misleading. He writes what liberalism "is" or what liberals "believe," as if the word were already defined his way. It is not, and the second part of this post quotes another NYT essay with a quite different conception of "liberal." This is an essay about what liberal should mean. I salute that. It's interesting that Sunstein wants to rescue the traditional meaning of "liberal," rather than shade words in current use. "Classical liberal," is mostly the same thing, but currently shades a bit more free market than he'd like. "Neoliberal" is an insult but really describes most of his views. People have turned insults around to proud self-identifiers before.   "Libertarian," probably has less room for the state and conservativism than Sunstein, and most people confuse "libertarian" with "anarchist." It's interesting he never mentions the word. Well, let's rescue "liberal." Here are some excerpts of Sunstein's 37 theses. I reorganized  into topics. What is "liberalism"? 1. Liberals believe in six things: freedom, human rights, pluralism, security, the rule of law and democracy....6. The rule of law is central to liberalism. ...It calls for law that is prospective, allowing people to plan, rather than retroactive, defeating people's expectations. It requires conformity between law on the books and law in the world. It calls for rights to a hearing (due process of law)....Liberalism requires law evenly applied, not "show me the man, and I'll find the crime." It requires a legal system in which each of us is not guilty of "Three Felonies a Day," unprotected unless we are trouble to those in power. 10. Liberals believe that freedom of speech is essential to self-government....11. Liberals connect their opposition to censorship to their commitment to free and fair elections, which cannot exist if people are unable to speak as they wish. ...They agree with ... "the principle of free thought — not free thought for those who agree with us but freedom for the thought that we hate."   It's freedom, individual dignity, equality before the law and the state. Economics On economic matters, "liberalism" starts with the basic values of the laissez-faire tradition, because the right to transact freely is one of the most basic freedoms there is:15. Liberals prize free markets, insisting that they provide an important means by which people exercise their agency. Liberals abhor monopolies, public or private, on the ground that they are highly likely to compromise freedom and reduce economic growth. At the same time, liberals know that unregulated markets can fail, such as when workers or consumers lack information or when consumption of energy produces environmental harm.On the latter point, Sunstein later acknowledges room for a variety of opinion on just how effective government remedies are for such "failures" of "unregulated markets." I'm a free marketer not because markets are perfect but because governments are usually worse. A point we can respectfully debate with fact and logic.16. Liberals believe in the right to private property. But nothing in liberalism forbids a progressive income tax or is inconsistent with large-scale redistribution from rich to poor. Liberals can and do disagree about the progressive income tax and on whether and when redistribution is a good idea. Many liberals admire Lyndon Johnson's Great Society; many liberals do not.I endorse this as well, which you may find surprising. Economics really has nothing to say about non-distorting transfers. Economists can only point out incentives, and disincentives. Redistribution tends to come with bad incentives. "Liberals" can and do argue about how bad the disincentives are, and if the purported benefits of redistribution are worth it. Cass allows liberals (formerly "conservatives") who "do not" admire extensive federal government social programs, because of their disincentives. Me.17. Many liberals are enthusiastic about the contemporary administrative state; many liberals reject itI also agree. I'm one of those who largely rejects it, but it's a matter of degree on disincentives, government competence, and the severity of the problems being addressed. "Liberals" can productively debate this matter of degree.  Liberalism is a framework for debate, not an answer to these economic questions. Integrating ConservativismIntegrating "conservative" into "liberal" is one of Sunstein's charms, and I agree. He is also trying to find a common ground in the "center," that tussles gently on the size of government while respecting America's founding enlightenment values, and unites many across the current partisan divide. 2...Those who consider themselves to be leftists may or may not qualify as liberals. You can be, at once, a liberal, as understood here, and a conservative; you can be a leftist and illiberal. 22. A liberal might think that Ronald Reagan was a great president and that Franklin Delano Roosevelt was an abomination; a liberal might think that Roosevelt was a great president and that Reagan was an abomination.   "Conserativism" properly means conserving many of the traditions of our society, rather than burning it down once a generation striving for utopia, and having it dissolve into tyranny. Sunstein's "liberalism" is conservative 24. Liberals favor and recognize the need for a robust civil society, including a wide range of private associations that may include people who do not embrace liberalism. They believe in the importance of social norms, including norms of civility, considerateness, charity and self-restraint. They do not want to censor any antiliberals or postliberals, even though some antiliberals or postliberals would not return the favor. On this count, they turn the other cheek. Liberals have antiliberal and postliberal friends.26. .. if people want the government to act in illiberal ways — by, for example, censoring speech, violating the rights of religious believers, preventing certain people from voting, entrenching racial inequality, taking private property without just compensation, mandating a particular kind of prayer in schools or endorsing a particular set of religious convictions — liberals will stand in opposition.The latter includes, finally, a bit of trends on the right that "liberals" do not approve of, and they don't. 28. Some people (mostly on the right) think that liberals oppose traditions or treat traditions cavalierly and that liberalism should be rejected for that reason. In their view, liberals are disrespectful of traditions and want to destroy them. Nothing could be further from the truth. Consider just a few inherited ideals, norms and concepts that liberals have defended, often successfully, in the face of focused attack for decades: republican self-government; checks and balances; freedom of speech; freedom of religion; freedom from unreasonable searches and seizures; due process of law; equal protection; private property.29. Liberals do not think it adequate to say that an ideal has been in place for a long time. As Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr. put it: "It is revolting to have no better reason for a rule of law than that so it was laid down in the time of Henry IV. It is still more revolting if the grounds upon which it was laid down have vanished long since and the rule simply persists from blind imitation of the past." Still, liberals agree that if an ideal has been with us for a long time, there might be a lot to say in its favor.A lover of freedom can also admire rule of law, tradition, and custom. Why do we have private property? A illiberal, like many college students fresh to the world, might start from basic philosophical principles, and state that all of the earth's bounty should be shared equally, and head out to the ramparts to seize power. As a philosophical principle, it can sound reasonable. But our society and its laws, traditions, and customs, has thousands of years of experience built up. A village had common fields. People over-grazed them. Putting up fences and allocating rights led to a more prosperous village. The tradition of property rights, and their quite detailed specification and limitation that evolved in our common law, responding to this experience,  along with well-educated citizens' conception of right and virtue, the moral sense of property right that they learn from their forebears, can summarize thousands of years of history, without us needing to remember each case. This thought is what led me in the past to characterize myself as an empirical, conservative, rule-of-law, constitutional and pax-Americana (save that one for later) libertarian, back when the word "liberal" meant something else. But, as Holmes points out, a vibrant society must see that some of this laws and traditions are wrong, or ineffective, and thoughtfully reform them. Property rights once extended to people, after all. Most of all, the 1970s "liberal" but now  "illiberal" view has been that government defines the purpose and meaning of life and society, be it religious purity, socialist utopia, or now the vanguard of the elite ruling on behalf of the pyramid of intersectional victimization. The role of the government is to mold society to that quest. "Conservatives" have thought that the purpose of life and society is defined by individuals, families, churches, communities, scholars, arts, culture,  private institutions of civil society, via lively reasoned debate; society can accommodate great variety in these views,  and the government's purpose is just to enforce simple rules, and keep the debate peaceful, not to define and lead us to the promised land. I read Sunstein, correctly, to restore the word "liberal" to this later view, though it had largely drifted to the former.  Who isn't liberal? The progressive leftWho isn't a "liberal," to Sunstein? If you've been around university campuses lately, you know how much today's "progressives" ("post-liberals") have turned politics into a tribal, warlike affair. This is who Sunstein is really unhappy with, and to whom this essay is a declaration of divorce: 5. ...liberals ... do not like tribalism. ... They are uncomfortable with discussions that start, "I am an X, and you are a Y,"... Skeptical of identity politics, liberals insist that each of us has many different identities and that it is usually best to focus on the merits of issues, not on one or another identity.I would add, liberals evaluate arguments by logic and evidence, not who makes the argument. Liberals accept an enlightenment idea that anything true can be discovered and understood by anyone. Truth is not just listening to "lived experience." 18. Liberals abhor the idea that life or politics is a conflict between friends and enemies.23. Liberals think that those on the left are illiberal if they are not (for example) committed to freedom of speech and viewpoint diversity. They do not like the idea of orthodoxy, including on university campuses or social media platforms. Ad of course, 30. Liberals like laughter. They are anti-anti-laughter.Old joke from my graduate school days: "How many Berkeley marxist progressives does it take to screw in a light bulb?" Answer: "I don't think that kind of humor is appropriate." ****In case you think everyone agrees on this new definition of "liberal," the essay has a link below it to another one by Pamela Paul, "Progressives aren't liberal." Paul's essay also covers some of the history of how the word was used, but in the end uses it in a quite different way from Sunstein.  In the 1960s and 70s, the left proudly used the word in self-description. In the 1980s, Ronald Reagan, who often prefaced [liberal] with a damning "tax and spend," may have been the most effective of bashers. ...Newt Gingrich's political organization GOPAC sent out a memo, "Language: A Key Mechanism of Control," urging fellow Republicans to use the word as a slur.It worked. Even Democrats began avoiding the dread label. In a presidential primary debate in 2007, Hillary Clinton called herself instead a "modern progressive." She avoided the term "liberal" again in 2016.I think Clinton was trying to position herself to the right of what "liberal" had become by 2016.  "Progressive" has come to mean something else. But I may be wrong. Never Trump conservatives tout their bona fides as liberals in the classical, 19th century sense of the word, in part to distinguish themselves from hard-right Trumpists. Others use "liberal" and "progressive" interchangeably, even as what progressivism means in practice today is often anything but liberal — or even progressive, for that matter.In the last sentence she is right. Sunstein is not, as he appears, describing a word as it is widely used today,  but a word as it is slowly becoming used, and as he would like it to be used. liberal values, many of them products of the Enlightenment, include individual liberty, freedom of speech, scientific inquiry, separation of church and state, due process, racial equality, women's rights, human rights and democracy.Here you start to think she's got the same basic big tent as Sunstein.  But not so -- this essay is testament to the enduring sense of the "liberal" word as describing the big-government left, just please not quite so insane as the campus progressives: Unlike "classical liberals" (i.e., usually conservatives), liberals do not see government as the problem, but rather as a means to help the people it serves. Liberals fiercely defend Social Security, Medicare, Medicaid, Obamacare, the Voting Rights Act and the National Labor Relations Act. They believe government has a duty to regulate commerce for the benefit of its citizens. They tend to be suspicious of large corporations and their tendency to thwart the interests of workers and consumers.Sunstein had room for disagreement on these "fierce" defenses, or at least room for reasoned argument rather than profession of essential belief before you can enter the debate. "Tout their bona fides" above also does not have quite the reach-across-the aisle non partisan flair of Sunstein's essay. I don't think Paul welcomes never-Trump classical liberals in her tent. For Paul, the divorce between "liberal" and "progressive" is real, as for many other "liberals" since the October 7 wake up: Whereas liberals hold to a vision of racial integration, progressives have increasingly supported forms of racial distinction and separation, and demanded equity in outcome rather than equality of opportunity. Whereas most liberals want to advance equality between the sexes, many progressives seem fixated on reframing gender stereotypes as "gender identity" and denying sex differences wherever they confer rights or protections expressly for women. And whereas liberals tend to aspire toward a universalist ideal, in which diverse people come together across shared interests, progressives seem increasingly wedded to an identitarian approach that emphasizes tribalism over the attainment of common ground.It is progressives — not liberals — who argue that "speech is violence" and that words cause harm. These values are the driving force behind progressive efforts to shut down public discourse, disrupt speeches, tear down posters, censor students and deplatform those with whom they disagree.Divisions became sharper after the Oct. 7 Hamas attack, when many progressives did not just express support for the Palestinian cause but, in some cases, even defended the attacks as a response to colonialism, and opposed retaliation as a form of genocide. This brings us to the most troubling characteristic of contemporary progressivism. Whereas liberals tend to pride themselves on acceptance, many progressives have applied various purity tests to others on the left, and according to one recent study on the schism between progressives and liberals, are more likely than liberals to apply public censure to divergent views. This intolerance manifests as a professed preference for avoiding others with different values, a stance entirely antithetical to liberal values.Yes. But no Republicans, please. Unlike Sunstein, Paul's "Liberalism" remains unabashedly partisan. I hope Sunstein's version of the word prevails. In any case, it is nice to see the division between the Woodstock Liberals, previously fellow travelers, from the extreme progressive left, and it is nice to see this word drift back to where it belongs. This is an optimistic post for the future of our country. Happy Thanksgiving. Update: I just ran across Tyler Cowen's Classical Liberals vs. The New Right. Excellent. And I forgot to plug my own "Understanding the Left," which I still think is a great essay though nobody seems to have read it.