Saturday, April 19, 2008

Book Review: America at the Crossroads (Francis Fukuyama)

Fukuyama’s “Realistic Wilsonianism:” Foreign Policy Model or Therapeutic Exercise? [Review written in July 2006]

America at the Crossroads: Democracy, Power and the Neoconservative Legacy. By Francis Fukuyama. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2006. 226p.

In America at the Crossroads, Francis Fukuyama details his rationale for abandoning neoconservatism, provides analysis of the “neoconservative” mishandling of the Iraq War, and posits a new American foreign policy incorporating the best of neoconservative thinking with other existing theories of international relations. Fukuyama implies in his preface that he has two important motives for authoring this work: first, he can no longer be party to the tainted ideology of neoconservatism, and second, he seeks to introduce a new foreign policy model not currently represented in American politics. Although much of his analysis is informative and compelling, Fukuyama ultimately seems distracted by his first proposition and falls short in delivering anything significantly new to the foreign policy debate.

For Fukuyama, the Iraq War symbolized a line of demarcation between his own conception of neoconservative values and the neoconservative establishment. Convinced that the connection between neoconservatism and the Bush administration’s war policy is overstated, he nevertheless believes that because the term is inextricably linked to the administration’s conduct of the war, it is beyond rescue. As a result, he worries that a backlash against the neoconservative agenda will inspire a wholesale return to a realist foreign policy, a prospect he deems inconsistent with the emerging international system. In an effort to prevent this return to realism as the modus operandi in American foreign policy, Fukuyama proposes the model of “realistic Wilsonianism,” a spin-off of neoconservative thought designed to keep America engaged in world affairs while avoiding further alienation in the international community by an overuse of military might. (Preface, Chapters 1, 6-7)

In essence, Fukuyama’s new model begins where neoconservative thought left off, proposing that the internal actions of states – not just their external behavior – are important, that American power is often needed to bring about moral purposes, and that social engineering ought to be approached with great care and humility. The sole neoconservative principle he omits from his model is the traditional skepticism for the potential of international institutions to play a viable role in the promotion of both security and justice. In fact, this tendency towards liberal internationalism is the only major discrepancy between Fukuyama’s “realistic Wilsonianism” and the neoconservatism he claims is no longer viable. Thus, the main difference between neoconservative thinking and the “realistic Wilsonianism” model is that the means by which these goals can be achieved are less dependent on American military power and more reliant upon US influence to help shape international institutions. (Chapters 1, 7)

Part of what Fukuyama envisions in his foreign policy model is a “dramatic demilitarization” of American foreign policy, a toning down of “the war on terrorism” rhetoric, and a wholehearted campaign to promote political and economic development throughout the world – the last which he claims has always been an afterthought of US foreign policy. He seems concerned that unfettered US military power, combined with aggressive democracy promotion tactics such as regime change and nation-building, will lead to a decline of American influence in the world. To counteract this potentially undesirable loss of American prestige, Fukuyama believes it is essential that US policymakers not only support current international institutions, but also that they create new organizations, coalitions, and institutions to meet a broad range of potential needs for the future. (Chapter 6-7)

Fukuyama’s focus on international institutions is interesting given his own admission of the conundrum of political legitimacy, the idea that formal international institutions perceived as legitimate are hopelessly inefficient while efficient forms of international cooperation often lack legitimacy. This apparent drawback to institutions does not dissuade him from proposing a foreign policy agenda of “multi-multilateralism,” defined as “a large number of overlapping and sometimes competitive international institutions.” (158) His main argument for this approach is couched in the belief that more institutions will provide policymakers with more options, citing as an example the US collaborating with NATO when Russia vetoed action against Kosovo in the UN Security Council. On this basis, Fukuyama calls for a “multiplicity of organizations” in order to be prepared for all different types of challenges to world order in the future. (Chapter 6)

It is clear that Fukuyama’s explanation of “realistic Wilsonianism” is a cohesive and comprehensive foreign policy strategy worthy of consideration. What is less clear, and appears hard to defend, is his claim that he is offering a model “not captured by any existing schools within the US foreign policy debate” when the majority of his principles are supplied by the ideology he supposedly is abandoning, and additional principles are “borrowed” from existing theories. In this respect, it seems he has confused adoption with creation, and adaptation with innovation. Another problematic feature is his apparent failure to explain the logic for his transformation on the issue of international institutions. Prior to the Iraq War, Fukuyama presumably held a more pessimistic view towards the value of international institutions; nevertheless, while he deftly outlines his disagreements with the war, he fails to explain how the Iraq War altered his views of institutions. This begs the question, on what basis did the Iraq War change his opinion and what exactly was so compelling that it warranted a new foreign policy model? Because this rationale is missing, so also is an important analytical tool for assessing the merits of his policy.

Although academics and policy makers alike may profit from a reading of Fukuyama’s book, the likely beneficiaries of America at the Crossroads will be students with little knowledge of the neoconservative tradition, political partisans who are intrigued by the critique of neoconservatism from a former “neocon,” and perhaps, political moderates seeking a fair assessment of the Bush administration’s conduct of the Iraq War. For readers in these categories there will be substantial “food for thought,” but those expecting to encounter a brand new foreign policy model may well be disappointed. Given the disconnect between what the author claims to be doing (creating a new foreign policy) and what he is actually doing (borrowing from existing foreign policies) one wonders whether Fukuyama, horrified by the aggressive policies of his neoconservative colleagues, simply needed a therapeutic venue to exorcise his own demons.

In assessing his historical narrative of neoconservative roots, his analysis of the misapplication of neoconservative principles in the Iraq War, and his criticisms of US insulation from international sentiment, it is clear that Fukuyama’s initial objective to overtly split from neoconservatism has been realized. On the other hand, far from presenting an essential new foreign policy model for the consideration of the academic and policy-making community, Fukuyama has really just done what moderate and independent-minded Americans do all the time. He has considered what the “smorgasbord of ideologies” has to offer and has piecemealed together a foreign policy strategy that he believes is more viable. There is little doubt he has done a better job than most would, but what remains is little more than a stepchild of neoconservatism, not the cutting edge foreign policy model he promised.

1 comment:

Philip Brown said...

Hi, Dwight,
Philip Brown here. Would like to get in touch with you. Email me at philipbrown at apbrown2.net.
Thanks.