Farewell to the Nation-State
Michael Elliot / Time 2jul01
Dr. Kissinger and the breakdown of national borders
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Whatever you think of Henry Kissinger, you have to admit: the man has staying
power. With a new book — "Does America Need a Foreign Policy?" —
on the shelves, Kissinger is once again helping to shape American thinking on
foreign relations. This is the sixth decade in which that statement can be said
to be true.
Kissinger's new book is terrific. Plainly intended as an extended tutorial on
policy for the new American Administration, it is full of good sense and studded
with occasional insights that will have readers nodding their heads in silent
agreement. A particularly good chapter on Asia rebukes anyone who unthinkingly
assigns to China the role once played by the Soviet Union as the natural
antagonist of the U.S.
But for all its virtues as a tour d'horizon of the challenges facing Washington,
Kissinger's book can be read in another, and more illuminating, light. It is, in
essence, an extended meditation on the end of a particular way of looking at the
world: one where the principal actors in international relations are
nation-states, pursuing their conception of their own national interest, and in
which the basic rule of foreign policy is that one nation does not intervene in
the internal affairs of another.
Students of international relations call this the "Westphalian
system," after the 1648 Peace of Westphalia that ended Europe's Thirty
Years War, a time of indescribable carnage waged in the name of competing
religions. The treaties that ended the war put domestic arrangements — like
religion — off limits to other states. In the war's aftermath a
rough-and-ready commitment to a balance of power among neighbors took shape.
Kissinger is a noted scholar of the balance of power. And he is suspicious of
attempts to meddle in the internal business of others. In a book that drips with
devastating, if understated, contempt for the Clinton Administration and all its
workings, nothing provokes Kissinger's ire more than America's
"humanitarian" interventions in Somalia, Haiti, Bosnia and Kosovo.
Yet Kissinger is far too sophisticated to attempt to recreate a world that is
lost. "Today," he writes, "the Westphalian order is in systematic
crisis." In particular, nation-states are no longer the sole drivers of the
international system. In some cases, groups of states — like the European
Union or Mercosur — have developed their own identities and agendas. Economic
globalization has both blurred the boundaries between nations and given a
substantial international role to those giant companies for whom such boundaries
make little sense. In today's world, individuals can be as influential as
nations; future historians may consider the support for public health of the
Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation to be more noteworthy than last week's United
Nations conference on aids. And a whole raft of institutions are premised on the
assumption that intervention in the internal affairs of others is often
desirable. Were that not the case, Slobodan Milosevic would not have been
surrendered last week to the jurisdiction of the war crimes tribunal in The
Hague.
The consequences of these changes are profound. Kissinger is right to note that
globalization has undermined the role of the nation-state less in the case of
the U.S. (Why? Because it's more powerful than anyone else.) Elsewhere, the old
ways of thinking about the "national interest" — that guiding light
of the Westphalian system — have fewer adherents than they once did. Not long
ago, the national interest of, say, the Netherlands could be defined by a
necessity to protect Dutch blood and soil. It would be absurd to imagine that
the modern Dutch think that way now. For a sensible Dutch government, it makes
sense to define the things that really matter in terms of the international
opportunities available to its companies, and in the commitment to global
environmentalism that its citizens apparently avow.
As more governments start to think along such lines, Washington risks looking
like an outlier. When the U.S. asserts a self-centered policy on, say, missile
defense or global warming, it is speaking a language that many others now
consider archaic. (Not all: remember China.) In fact, even in America, the old
ways of thinking about foreign policy are visibly under threat. It is
American-led NGOs who have argued loudest for humanitarian intervention and for
elevating the environment into an issue of foreign policy. Perhaps most
interestingly, 25 years of mass immigration to the U.S. — the bulk of it from
Latin America and Asia — may make it harder for tomorrow's policymakers to
forge a defined national interest than it was for the men who shaped
Washington's thinking after World War II. All of which is a long way of saying
that Kissinger's next book should not be about the rest of the world — but his
own country.
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