In Defense of Political Realism

Shadia B. Drury

Political realism beseeches us to accept the world as it is. It acknowledges the difficulties that human beings encounter in a world without established laws, a global policeman, or a preordained history. Nevertheless, realism eschews the project of defeating all evil, overthrowing all dictators, and transforming the world. Such conservative instincts are at odds with the liberal and progressive inclinations of our time, so it is not surprising that political realism is disparaged. It does indeed have a dark history, but it has also been misunderstood—starting with Thucydides, who is believed to be the father of realism.

In the History of the Peloponnesian War, Thucydides disparaged the leaders of the Athenian Empire who replaced Pericles. He thought they were not up to the task. When the island of Melos insisted on remaining neutral in the war between Athens and Sparta, Athens sent representatives to twist their arms. The Athenian delegation threatened Melos with total annihilation if it persisted in its neutrality. They reminded the Melians of the primacy of power in world affairs, saying, “The strong will do as they please, and the weak must suffer the consequences.”

In response, the representatives of Melos appealed to justice and reminded the Athenians that someday they may find themselves in destitute circumstances, facing annihilation. They asked the Athenians the decisive question: To whom will you turn? Everyone will remember your ruthlessness when you were on top of the world and will refuse to help you. This would indeed come to pass. Thucydides thought that the hubris displayed by the Athenians resulted in their military defeat, despite the inferiority of their opponent. So, Thucydides is hardly a champion of this so-called realism.

This was not the reading of the neoconservative hawks that followed Donald Kagan in the heady days of the George W. Bush administration. Even though Athens annihilated Melos, the neoconservatives believed that Athens was not ruthless enough. They thought that America would succeed in her global mission to democratize and transform the world as long as she was not reluctant to employ the full military might at her disposal. Clearly, idealism and brutality are not mutually exclusive. When the transfiguration of the world stands in the balance, people are willing to pay a hefty price, especially with the lives of others.

In my view, the supreme champion of political realism is Thomas Hobbes (1588–1679). He understood that the international arena is a “state of nature” devoid of enforceable laws, but he also recognized that it was a state of equality where the strong are as vulnerable as the weak. Because the weakest person can kill the strongest, because the strong need to sleep and cannot be eternally vigilant, it follows that everyone is equally susceptible to the prospect of violent death. So, it is a mistake to assume that there is a gulf that separates the strong from the weak. It is a mistake for the strong to do as they please or feel invincible. It took only a few men with box cutters on September 11, 2001, to refute the American illusion of invincibility.

It is high time for American foreign policy mavens to recognize that the United States has no divine mandate to rule the world, that her rendez vous with history is over, and that it is time to act in concert with others and stop making so many enemies. It took a president enthralled by money and power to denounce the wasteful wars that are the legacy of America’s quest to remake the world. So, it is no wonder that Donald Trump forged alliances with egomaniacal dictators—selling them arms, staying mum about their atrocities, and making sure they open their doors to American capitalism and the Trump family business. That is not smart. Brutal autocrats invariably crush and humiliate their opponents. Their enemies are bound to become America’s enemies. As American realist Stephen M. Walt has warned, we should not be surprised when one or more Yemenis decide to take their revenge, not only against Saudi Arabia but also against her enabler (Foreign Policy, June 21, 2018). What is true about Yemenis is also true about other nationals. Trump has made a bad situation worse.

An intelligent realism will not set out to defeat all dictatorships, but it will recognize the danger of enabling them. A clever realist accepts both the impossibility of defeating evil as well as the plurality of the good. After all, there is more than one right way to organize society. Every form of government has pitfalls—including the American one. The point of a realist foreign policy is to defend the interests of the nation in a dangerous world. Unfortunately, America’s interests have been defined by a rapacious corporate capitalism with tentacles in every corner of the globe. A realist foreign policy must weigh the profits of a few against the high price the nation must pay to secure access to the resources and markets of others.

Finally, an intelligent realism recognizes the limits of military power and therefore does not neglect what political scientists call “soft power.” In the nineteenth century, Friedrich Nietzsche surmised that the most fundamental drive is not survival but dominance, or the “will to power.” The idea came to him as he watched a military parade. But after a short stint in the army, Nietzsche realized that military might is not the real source of power and that artistic achievements—great music, art, and literature—are much more powerful.

Republicans as well as Democrats in the United States are mistaken in assuming that their military ability to “project power” in every corner of the globe is the key to their supremacy. If Nietzsche is right, it is their culture—blues, jazz, Hollywood films, scientific and technological innovation—that has captured the imagination of the world. They neglect the impact of “soft power” at their peril.

Shadia B. Drury

Shadia B. Drury is professor emerita at the University of Regina in Canada. Her most recent book is The Bleak Political Implications of Socratic Religion (Palgrave Macmillan, 2017).


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