Archive for June 26th, 2008

Dueling Realisms (Realism in International Relations)

June 26, 2008

By Stephen G. Brooks

International relations scholars have tended to focus on realism’s common features rather than exploring potential differences.(1) Realists do share certain assumptions and are often treated as a group, but such a broad grouping obscures systematic divisions within realist theory. Recently, some analysts have argued that it is necessary to differentiate within realism.(2) This article builds on this line of argument. The potential, and need, to divide realism on the basis of divergent assumptions has so far been overlooked.(3) In this article I argue that realism can be split into two competing branches by revealing latent divisions regarding a series of assumptions about state behavior. The first branch is Kenneth Waltz’s well-known neorealist theory;(4) a second branch, termed here “postclassical realism,” has yet to be delineated as a major alternative but corresponds with a number of realist analyses that cohere with one another and are incompatible with Waltzian neorealism.(5)

Neorealism and postclassical realism do share important similarities: both have a systemic focus;(6) both are state-centric; both view international politics as inherently competitive; both emphasize material factors, rather than nonmaterial factors, such as ideas and institutions; and both assume states are egoistic actors that pursue self-help. But these common features describe how states behave only in very general terms: they are silent about, for example, how international competitiveness varies or how and when states prioritize military security over economic capacity. Specifying how states engage in self-help requires making additional assumptions about state behavior. These further assumptions, I contend, divide realism into two branches and result in competing sets of hypotheses about how states will act in a given environment.

Three assumptions differentiate these two branches of realism. Most significant is whether states are conditioned by the mere possibility of conflict or, alternatively, make decisions based on the probability of aggression.(7) Neorealism holds that the possibility of conflict shapes the actions of states, who are seen as always adopting a worst-case perspective. Postclassical realism does not assume states employ worst-case reasoning; rather states are understood as making decisions based on assessments of probabilities regarding security threats.

Two other differences regarding assumptions naturally follow from this possibility/ probability distinction. The first related disagreement concerns the discount rate. Neorealism’s emphasis on the possibility of conflict reflects the view that actors heavily discount the future, favoring short-term military preparedness over longer-term objectives when they conflict. In contrast, postclassical realism does not regard long-term objectives as always subordinate to short-term security requirements; here, states often make intertemporal trade-offs.

The second related disagreement concerns state preferences. All realists agree that military security is the state’s prime responsibility and that relative military capacity ultimately depends on a state’s productive base. But realists diverge when these priorities conflict: common realist assumptions underspecify state preferences. All agree that defending the state from military threats takes first priority, but neorealists and postclassical realists disagree about the degree to which states favor immediate military preparedness over economic capacity. Within neorealism, military preparedness always trumps economic capacity if the two conflict. In postclassical realism, rational policymakers may trade off a degree of military preparedness if the potential net gains in economic capacity are substantial relative to the probability of security losses.

The first two sections of this article differentiate between neorealism and postclassical realism; the remainder of the article outlines some implications of this differentiation. In the third section I argue that awareness of realism’s divergent assumptions opens up avenues for cumulative intra-realist debates and should lead to a better conceptualization of the theory. The significance of these divergent realist assumptions is shown by comparing the competing hypotheses they imply about (1) German and Japanese foreign policy, (2) nuclear proliferation in Ukraine, and (3) regional economic cooperation among developing countries. In the final section I argue that a clear understanding of realism’s two branches makes it easier to understand why past interchanges with liberals, constructivists, and domestic-level theories have generally been disappointing and also opens up the possibility of a more constructive future dialogue.

 

The Neorealist Conception of State Behavior

This section outlines the three assumptions that undergird the neorealist conception of state behavior. The first assumption is the most significant, with the next two assumptions following naturally from the first.

Possibility versus Probability

For neorealists, the international system always has high security pressures. As John Mearsheimer contends, neorealists view the international system as a “brutal arena where states look for opportunities to take advantage of each other . . . International relations is not a constant state of war, but is a state of relentless security competition.”(8) Similarly, Waltz argues that “threats or seeming threats to . . . security abound. Preoccupation with identifying dangers and counteracting them become a way of life. Relations remain tense; the actors are usually suspicious and often hostile.”(9) Neorealists envision the system to be “one of high risk,” although “this is meant not in the sense that war constantly occurs but in the sense that, with each state deciding for itself whether or not to use force, war may at any time break out.”(10)

Waltz argues that “in the absence of a supreme authority, there is then constant possibility that conflicts will be settled by force.”(11) Yet what would seem ultimately important is not that conflict is always possible in anarchy, but rather the relative chances that it will occur. Because failing to fully balance the capabilities of potential military aggressors does not necessarily result in conflict, it would seem a rational decision maker might operate on the margin of what is safe regarding defensive preparations when the likelihood of aggression is low, especially since military preparedness is generally quite costly. This is not the neorealist perspective. Within neorealism, a rational state never lets down its guard: states adopt a worst-case perspective and always aim to balance the military capabilities of potential aggressors.(12) For neorealists, states are conditioned by the mere possibility – and not the probability – of conflict.

Neorealists regard states as adopting such a worst-case perspective for three principal reasons. First, neorealists point to the potential costs of war as causing actors to focus on the mere possibility of conflict. As Mearsheimer maintains, “political competition among states is a much more dangerous business than economic intercourse; it can lead to war, and war often means mass killing on the battlefield and even mass murder of civilians. In extreme cases, war can even lead to the total destruction of the state.”(13) In the neorealist view, the mere possibility of conflict induces a high degree of caution, given the extreme potential costs of neglecting to be defensively vigilant.

Second, neorealists argue that states will ultimately focus on other state’s underlying potential for aggression – as measured by material capabilities – because “intentions are impossible to divine with 100 percent certainty,” and the possibility always exists that “a state’s intentions can be benign one day and malign the next.”(14) In the neorealist framework, rational states adopt a worst-case focus because this is the only way to ensure against being caught off guard.

Third, neorealists maintain that rational states will focus on the possibility of conflict because defensive precautions are considered the only true assurance against aggression. For neorealists, war can be prevented – or at least forestailed – only by direct choice to pursue appropriate defensive preparations; “only the vigilance of defensive coalitions stands in the way of an Orwellian nightmare of huge clashing despotisms, or even a single world empire.”(15) States are thus seen as adopting a worst-case perspective because it is assumed that they “do not enjoy even an imperfect guarantee of their own security unless they set out to provide it for themselves.”(16)

The neorealist perspective that rational actors adopt a worst-case/possibilistic focus does not mean neorealists believe war is always highly likely. Waltz clearly argues that “world politics, although not reliably peaceful, falls short of unrelieved chaos.”(17) Although neorealists certainly do not maintain that international relations is a constant state of war, they nevertheless hold that the combined effects of the aforementioned three factors cause states to adopt a worst-case/possibilistic focus.

Neorealists would likely argue that the preceding three factors – which they assert can be traced to the anarchic state of the international system – necessarily induce rational states to adopt a worst-case/possibilistic focus. However, even if these three factors are manifested, this situation by no means compels a rational state to adopt a worst-case/possibilistic perspective – neorealists simply assume that rational states will react in this manner. These three factors merely provide a justification for neorealism’s worst-case/possibilistic viewpoint; whether this assumption is useful remains open to examination.

Although this worst-case/possibilistic view is only an assumption, it plays a pivotal – although usually unrecognized – role in neorealist theory. As Robert Powell and Alexander Wendt argue, balancing behavior and attitudes toward cooperation are conditioned not by a lack of hierarchical authority in the international system per se but by the perceived relative likelihood that force will be used.(18) Absent the worst-case assumption undergirding neorealism, even in an anarchic environment there is no logical reason to infer that balancing behavior will constantly recur and that states will be highly averse to cooperate. Ultimately, this worst-case/possibilistic assumption-and not the condition of anarchy – performs the bulk of the explanatory work in the Waltzian neorealist framework.

Ironically, although neorealists are leading critics of classical realist explanations of international behavior predicated on particular conceptions of human nature,(19) the internal coherence of the neorealist framework itself depends fundamentally on the psychological assumption that actors are characteristically highly fearful. For Hans Morgenthau, actors are guided by a rapacious quest for power that is the result of an aggressive, animal-like craving to dominate one’s fellows.(20) Morgenthau’s view of human nature thus emphasizes aggression, whereas the neorealist conception emphasizes wariness and anxiety. These two conceptions of human nature may not be so distinct from one another: if actors are understood to be aggressive, it makes sense to assume they will also be characteristically highly fearful. In this respect, neorealists may adopt a worst-case/possibilistic perspective precisely because they implicitly accept Morgenthau’s argument that actors are inherently aggressive. Taken to its logical conclusion, Morgenthau’s view of human nature implies that (1) actors will seek to take advantage of weaker states whenever they have the chance, and hence (2) military preparedness is the only true assurance against being exploited. This is remarkably similar to neorealism’s view that “conflict is common among states because . . . [of] powerful incentives for aggression,”(21) and where defensive vigilance is the only guarantee against aggression.(22) Neorealists thus emphasize a different aspect of human nature than Morgenthau, but the net result is that both view the world in very similar, highly pessimistic terms. In the end, neorealism does not move beyond the human nature arguments of classical realism; neorealists simply swap one aspect of human nature (aggression) for another (fear).(23)

To be clear, neorealism’s reliance on this worst-case/possibilistic assumption is not fatal for the theory. Whether this assumption is a useful approximation of international decision making remains an open question; neorealists may be correct that states are most productively characterized in this manner. My task at this juncture has not been to evaluate whether this assumption is useful, but rather to emphasize its centrality in the neorealist architecture.

 

Short Term versus Long Term

Because anarchy provides no guarantees against elimination, one could argue that states will always seek to first maximize their military security in the short term, even if doing so has less-than-ideal repercussions for the state’s long-term priorities. In practice, a rational state will not necessarily discount the future in this manner, even in an anarchic system. Rather, how rational states weigh short-term military security against long-term goals depends on the strength of security competition in the international system.

In a system with high levels of security competition, a rational state’s first concern will be to maximize the likelihood of its continued existence, even if focusing on short-term security has negative long-term repercussions. But, if security pressures are not as strong, a rational state will give more weight to long-term priorities. In sum, the more competitive the system, the more a rational state discounts the future.

Seeing the international system as a relentless competition for security in which states adopt a worst-case/possibilistic perspective drives neorealist assumptions about the discount rate. Given this view, a rational state will always seek first to maximize its short-term military security from potential rivals, even if this has negative long-term repercussions for other state priorities. Of course, neorealists do not think long-term state goals are unimportant, but they do view such concerns as subordinate to short-term military security requirements when the two conflict. To be clear, neorealism’s view that states heavily discount the future follows not from the anarchic nature of the international system per se, but rather reflects the theory’s assumption that states are shaped by the mere possibility of conflict and hence seek to be prepared for all contingencies regarding the short-term use of force by potential rivals.

 

Military Security versus Economic Capacity

Waltz contends that states will be concerned, above all else, with securing their survival.(24) While Waltz’s argument appears to say a great deal, this notion of survival is only a precursor to an understanding of state preferences rather than a satisfactory conception on its own. Surviving in anarchy requires both a potent military deterrent and a dynamic productive base. As a result, identifying survival as states’ ultimate goal is insufficient: how states balance the military security component of a survival strategy in relation to the economic capacity element must still be established. Will a rational state always maximize its military security, even if doing so sometimes significantly constrains its economic capacity? Alternatively, will a state sometimes attempt to enhance its economic capacity, even if it thereby reduces defensive vigilance and potentially exposes a state’s vital interests to some military danger? Waltz’s argument that states pursue survival thus contains an underlying tension between military security and economic capacity; however, Waltz skirts this trade-off by describing “moves to increase economic capability, to increase military strength” as both being elements of an internal balancing strategy.(25)

Of course, economic capacity and military preparedness are not always incompatible. Yet, heightened military preparedness often leaves less resources available for economic priorities, especially over the long term. This is not to say a fixed inverse relationship exists between the two objectives, where increasing attention to military security always necessarily causes a corresponding decrease in economic capacity.(26) Policymakers in wealthy states may not always be overly concerned even where an inverse relationship does exist. Nevertheless, it is undeniable that significant tension often exists between these two goals, especially for states with highly constrained economic resources. Moreover, as John Lewis Gaddis, Paul Kennedy, and William Wohlforth emphasize, decision makers very often perceive that they face such a trade-off and hence design policy based on the assumption that they cannot fully satisfy both objectives.(27)

In practice, a fundamental difference exists between pursuing state survival by emphasizing military preparedness substantially more than economic capacity (as North Korea has done in the postwar period and the Soviets did until the mid-1980s) and the opposite, advancing economic capacity at the expense of providing the highest level of protection from potential short-term military rivals (as the British did in the mid-1930s, as the Soviets did in the late 1980s, and as Ukraine has done recently). Lumping such radically different strategies under amorphous headings such as “survival” and “self-help” is highly problematic because it leaves neorealism with very little explanatory content.

Going beyond Waltz’s underspecified notion of survival to a more precise neorealist conception of state preferences requires examining how states trade off military security and economic capacity when the two conflict. What is the marginal rate of substitution between these two goals that characterizes state behavior? In other words, how much economic capacity will a state be willing to give up in order to have more military security? The trade-off between these two goals will frequently be an intertemporal one between short-term military security and long-term economic capacity.(28) For this reason, assumptions about the discount rate substantially affect how the trade-off is understood.

How do neorealists envision states making this trade-off? Neorealism’s worst-case/possibilistic perspective and high discount rate reflects the view that rational states will seek first to ensure military security before advancing other objectives, such as economic capacity. This is not to claim, as Richard Rosecrance does, that neorealists maintain “economics need not be included in a valid conspectus of international politics.”(29) Neorealists certainly do not view economic capacity as unimportant. However, neorealists consider it irrational for a state to focus on the enhancement of economic capacity to the extent that the likelihood of being subjected to a military defeat by potential rivals increases to any degree. As Mearsheimer maintains, “states operate in both an international political environment and an international economic environment, and the former dominates the latter in cases where the two come into conflict. The reason is straightforward: the international political system is anarchic.”(30)

This neorealist view that security priorities trump economic capacity whenever the two conflict implicitly presumes states favor short-term military security over long-term military security. Why? Economic capacity ultimately provides the foundation for future military security; as a result, engaging in intertemporal trade-offs between short-term military security and long-term economic capacity is also a choice between military security in the short term versus the long term. This implicit neorealist argument that protection from short-term potential threats trumps long-term military security is consistent with the theory’s underlying view that actors heavily discount the future. Given that long-term economic capacity and long-term military security overlap, the most precise articulation of neorealism’s conception of state preferences is consequently that short-term military security requirements supersede both short-term and long-term economic capacity.

It would be an incorrect caricature to portray neorealists as simply maintaining that states will always take every conceivable step to ensure their short-term military security vis-a-vis potential rivals. Waltz very carefully argues that “to say, then, that international politics is a game the general rules of which are disregarded at the peril of the player’s existence does not necessarily mean that every state must bend all its efforts towards securing its own survival.”(31) Waltz recognizes states have other important objectives besides military security, and he does not argue that states will devote all, or even anywhere near all, of their resources just to ensure this objective.(32) The neorealist perspective allows states to pursue economic capacity to a significant degree but not to the extent that doing so leaves a state potentially vulnerable to military exploitation by a possible military rival.

Another mischaracterization would be to portray neorealists as arguing that states will always maximize their short-term military security by balancing the capabilities of potential aggressors. Waltz carefully argues that just as firms are free to pursue other objectives to the detriment of profit maximization, states similarly have latitude to pursue other goals to the detriment of their chances for continued existence.(33) Neorealists should thus not be stereotyped as arguing that states will never pursue economic capacity to the extent that military security from possible rivals is potentially jeopardized. What Waltz does argue is that “balance-of-power politics is risky; trying to ignore it is riskier still,” because international politics is a realm where “any state may at any time use force [and] all states must constantly be ready either to counter force with force or to pay the cost of weakness.”(34) Just as firms that ignore market forces will be punished, Waltz similarly argues that “a unit of the system can behave as it pleases,” but “the international arena is a competitive one in which the less skillful must expect to pay the price of their ineptitude.”(35) Neorealists recognize states may decide to pursue economic capacity at the expense of military preparedness vis-a-vis potential rivals, but such decisions are seen as having been caused by a lack of proper understanding of the fundamental competitive tenets that govern international politics.

This analysis makes it easier to understand why neorealists resist broadening the concept of security beyond military factors to include an economic element, as David Baldwin suggests.(36) Neorealism’s worst-case focus and conception of the discount rate culminates in a particular understanding of state preferences – where short-term military security concerns always trump those of economic capacity whenever the two conflict – which then leads neorealism’s proponents to focus on the military aspect of security while downplaying the economic element. Broadening the concept of security to include economic factors simply cannot be accomplished within the neorealist framework, since it would require dismantling the underlying assumptions that provide neorealism with its internal coherence. Not surprisingly, therefore, neorealists prefer to restrictively define the concept of security in military terms. Taking this line of argument to its logical conclusion makes it easier to understand why Waltz ultimately concludes that it is possible, indeed productive, to ignore the economic domain when theorizing about international behavior.(37)

 

What Is Neorealism’s Theory of Decision Making?

Expected utility, the standard view of decision making in mainstream international relations, is employed, although often not explicitly, by a wide spectrum of analysts in varying degrees of formality.(38) Up to this point, neorealism has normally been understood to share this perspective that actors weight the utilities of different outcomes by their probabilities, calculate costs and benefits of all alternative policies, and choose the option with the highest utility. On closer examination, however, neorealism falls outside this mainstream view; neorealism does not have expected utility foundations. As Robert Keohane argues, “in a standard expected utility formulation, states will not let mere possibilities determine their behavior.”(39) Instead, in the expected utility framework, the utilities of outcomes are weighted according to their subjective probability. Yet, as emphasized here, neorealism’s worst-case/possibilistic focus is insensitive to probabilities.

Since neorealism is inconsistent with the typical expected utility framework, it becomes useful to speculate as to what theory of decision making neorealism represents. One possibility is “minimax.” Actors pursuing a minimax strategy do not pursue aggregate expected utility per se, but instead choose options that minimize the maximum loss that they can suffer.(40) As R. Duncan Luce and Howard Raiffa emphasize, actors that use the minimax risk criteria are “ultraconservative (or pessimistic) in that, relative to each act, they concentrate on the state having the worst consequence.”(41) In the expected utility framework, actors factor the opportunity costs of precautionary measures into their decisions and take chances when the potential gains of doing so are large relative to the probability of losses. In contrast, actors that always pursue a minimax strategy do not take chances under any circumstances: the overriding goal is to minimize the likelihood that the worst-case scenario will occur. In this respect, minimax is highly compatible with neorealism’s worst-case emphasis. The minimax criterion also does not require the actor to estimate the probabilities associated with different outcomes and is consequently consistent with neorealism’s possibilistic focus.

A second alternative is that neorealism is representative of prospect theory.(42) Prospect theory argues that actors give more weight to losses than to gains, and also that actors will often exaggerate the likelihood of rare events; “dramatic events which come readily to mind . . . are perceived to be more likely than they actually are.”(43) This perspective that actors are dominated by loss aversion and that they will exaggerate rare and dramatic events parallels neorealism’s view that actors focus on the worst case with respect to potential losses of military security. Moreover, proponents of prospect theory argue that actors will be “willing to pay far more to reduce the risk of a catastrophic loss from .10 to 0 than from .20 to .10, even though the change in expected utility is the same.”(44) This contention that actors will pay a steep price to reduce the risk of a catastrophic loss down to very low levels is compatible with neorealism’s conception of state preferences, where military security requirements always trump those of economic capacity whenever the two conflict.

 

The “Postclassical Realist” Conception of State Behavior

Does realism admit any other understanding of state behavior that can be contrasted to the Waltzian neorealist conception? Robert Gilpin argues that all realists share an assumption regarding “the essentially conflictual nature of international affairs.”(45) Gilpin’s argument is accurate but underspecified; the crucial question is the extent to which international affairs are conflictual. Does the level and form of conflict vary over time? If so, to what degree and according to which factors?

A variety of current realist writers provide very different answers from those advanced by Waltzian neorealists. Although some of these realist scholars have attempted to merge their analyses into the Waltzian framework, their analyses do not follow from neorealism’s worst-case/possibilistic assumption. Instead, they can best be understood as reflecting a competing branch of realism – what is termed here “postclassical realism” – which views actors as being conditioned by the probability of conflict.

Although the emphasis in this section is to delineate how postclassical realism differs from Waltz’s neorealist theory, the postclassical realist conception of state behavior outlined below simultaneously stands in contrast to classical realism. The term “postclassical realism” was chosen to designate a branch of realism that does not share four important characteristics that are held in common by classical realism and Waltz’s neorealist theory. Specifically, neorealism and classical realism share the following characteristics: (1) they have a highly static conception of international relations; (2) they rely on particular aspects of human nature – aggression for classical realists, fear for neorealists – to generate hypotheses; (3) they assume that states tend to rely primarily on the use or threat of military force to secure their objectives; and (4) they concentrate on the balance of military capabilities, with neorealists excluding and classical realists generally downplaying other international-level influences on state behavior. Postclassical realism does not subscribe to these four characteristics.

 

Possibility versus Probability

Consistent with their worst-case/possibilistic perspective, Waltzian neorealists place the emphasis on a single endogenous factor as affecting the likelihood of conflict: the balance of military capabilities.(46) Aggression is seen as less likely when states balance the capabilities of potential aggressors. Do any other variables besides the distribution of military capabilities cause the likelihood of conflict to vary systematically? This question has been addressed extensively by nonrealist theories. Liberals argue that the probability of conflict depends on whether or not states are democratic,(47) and on institutional linkages between international actors.(48) Constructivists argue that the likelihood of conflict depends on the nature of shared understandings regarding norms and identities between actors.(49)

That realists often disagree with liberals and constructivists should not obscure the fact that an expanding literature exists in which a variety of realist scholars – all of whom, as will be seen, are best understood as falling outside Waltzian neorealism – have sought to answer the very same question that guides nonrealist analyses: which factors besides the distribution of military capabilities systematically cause the probability of conflict to vary? These realist scholars point to three material factors other than the distribution of capabilities that affect the probability of conflict: technology, geography, and international economic pressures. First, the importance of technology is identified by realists such as Robert Jervis, Barry Buzan, Charles Glaser, and Stephen Van Evera. Technological innovation affects a range of factors that have a beating on conflict, such as: (1) the offense-defense balance and offense-defense differentiation;(50) (2) “interaction capacity,” that is, the volume, speed, range, and reliability of communications;(51) (3) reconnaissance capabilities;(52) and (4) the ease of extracting economic resources from conquered territory, which depends substantially on whether productive capacity is based on knowledge-intensive/technological industries or more traditional “smokestack”/natural resource industries.(53) Second, realists, including Stephen Walt and Stephen Krasner, identify the importance of geography, which affects both the utility of employing military force(54) and access to raw materials.(55) Third, realists such as Gilpin and Wohlforth underscore the significance of international economic pressures, which lead to fluctuations in the economic opportunity cost of an assertive foreign policy stance(56) and affect whether or not states can most cost-effectively influence other states through informal economic, as opposed to formal military, means.(57)

None of the aforementioned material factors involves ideas or institutions, which are the focus of nonrealist theories such as liberalism and constructivism.(58) These material factors make conquest more-or-less cost effective – and therefore more-or-less likely – irrespective of institutional characteristics or shared understandings about norms and identities. I am not suggesting that these material factors provide a comprehensive understanding of the causes of conflict, nor that they are of equal importance. Rather, I merely wish to underscore that realist scholars identify a range of material factors other than the distribution of military capabilities that influence the probability of conflict.

Until now, there has been confusion whether the preceding realist arguments can be incorporated into the Waltzian neorealist framework. Some of these realist writers portray themselves as amending and revising, rather than critiquing, the Waltzian neorealist approach.(59) As emphasized, neorealism’s conception of state behavior is based on the assumption that states are conditioned by the mere possibility of conflict. The preceding analyses simply do not follow from neorealism’s worst-case/possibilistic assumption; the underlying argument advanced by these realist scholars – that the probability of conflict varies systematically according to factors other than the distribution of capabilities – instead serves to undermine this neorealist assumption. With their implicit emphasis on probabilities, these analyses are incompatible with the Waltzian framework: incorporating any of these factors into neorealism would gut the theory’s worst-case/possibilistic assumption, thereby destroying neorealism’s internal coherence. This helps to explain why Waltz is so resistant to include any additional international-level variables beyond the distribution of capabilities into his theory. In the end, each of the preceding arguments can be more productively incorporated into a competing realist framework – postclassical realism – that is based on the underlying assumption that actors make decisions based on the probability of conflict.

Before outlining postclassical realism’s remaining two assumptions about state behavior, it should be noted that the possibility/probability distinction outlined here subsumes an emerging debate within realism between what Jack Snyder terms “aggressive” and “defensive” realists.(60) Snyder argues that aggressive realists, who are sometimes also referred to as “offensive” realists, believe offensive military action often contributes to security, whereas defensive realists reach the opposite conclusion.(61) In turn, Benjamin Frankel maintains that aggressive realists “posit that security in the international system is scarce,” whereas defensive realists contend security is more plentiful and are “more optimistic about the likelihood of avoiding war.”(62)

In practice, an implicit worst-case assumption regarding the expected future behavior of rising powers leads aggressive realists like Mearsheimer to assert that states “seek opportunities to weaken potential adversaries” as a means of enhancing security and hence to regard security as being scarce in the system.(63) Within a worst-case framework, states focus on the balance of capabilities and are conditioned by the fear that a rising power might become aggressive at some point. In this view, states are inclined to undertake offensive military action to remove or cripple rising powers in order to forestall the possibility of coercive behavior once potential competitors become predominant.

In contrast, adopting a probabilistic view leads to a different conclusion: given that preventive war is risky and costly, acting preemptively contributes to security only when a significant probability exists that the rising power will aggressively use military force when it becomes predominant in the future – which, for defensive realists such as Jervis, Glaser, and Walt, depends not just on the balance of capabilities, but also on technology, geography, and international economic pressures. Ultimately, defensive realists have a much more conditional view than aggressive realists as to whether offensive military actions enhance security – and hence see security as often being plentiful – exactly because of their implicit focus on the probability of conflict.

That the aggressive/defensive debate ultimately reflects a deeper divergence within realism regarding assumptions does not in any way diminish its significance. Understanding that the aggressive/defensive debate is rooted in the possibility/probability distinction is vital, however, because it helps explain why this intra-realist dispute is in fact occurring, and, more importantly, it underscores the need to delineate the assumptions according to which realists diverge. Tracing empirical disputes such as the aggressive/defensive realist debate back to underlying differences regarding assumptions is imperative to promoting cumulation within realist theory; focusing on assumptions makes it possible to interconnect a whole series of empirical disputes within realism and promote aggregation across a broad range of cases.

 

Short Term versus Long Term

As mentioned earlier, when security pressures are high, a rational actor will significantly discount the future in order to guard against elimination by stronger rivals. The focus of postclassical realism on the probability – and not the possibility – of conflict results in a conception of the international system as often having lower security pressures than neorealists assume. As a result, postclassical realism expects states to often discount the future to a lesser extent than is assumed by Waltzian neorealists. For postclassical realism, long-term state objectives are not necessarily subordinate to short-term military security requirements; instead, actors are seen as regularly making intertemporal trade-offs.

Regarding intertemporal trade-offs, Gilpin’s realist analysis provides an excellent contrast to Waltzian neorealism.(64) Gilpin’s arguments reflect the view that actors do not make worst-case assumptions but are instead conditioned by the probability of conflict. Perhaps not surprisingly, Gilpin also argues that international actors will often make trade-offs between short-term and long-term objectives. Indeed, much of Gilpin’s work is devoted specifically to examining those factors within a state’s control that may potentially alter its long-term relative position.

In comparison to Gilpin’s more dynamic realist framework, Waltzian neorealism has often been criticized on the grounds that it is a very static theory.(65) Yet, this should not be seen as an omission on the part of Waltz and his followers; the static nature of neorealism reflects its worst-case/possibilistic focus. Given such an understanding of the world, a rational state will have a very short-term focus, and consequently neorealist theory itself not surprisingly exhibits this same characteristic. In contrast, Gilpin’s probabilistic-based analysis leads to the view that states often have the discretion to look beyond their short-term security requirements and worry about the longer-term consequences of their actions. Ultimately, it is Gilpin’s underlying probabilistic focus that lends itself to an examination of long-term changes.

 

Military Security versus Economic Capacity

Postclassical realism’s probabilistic underpinnings result in a rival understanding of state preferences from that advanced by neorealists. In this respect, Gilpin’s analysis again provides a useful contrast to Waltzian neorealism. Until now, however, the prevailing tendency has been to portray Gilpin’s conception of state preferences as reflecting Waltzian neorealism, rather than to explore how, or if, Gilpin might be advancing a competing understanding.(66) This has partly been the result of several ambiguities in Gilpin’s presentation. My aim here will be to outline Gilpin’s underlying conception of state preferences more precisely and to provide a clear contrast between neorealism and postclassical realism regarding their expectations about state behavior.

Gilpin argues that all realists are united in assuming “the primacy in all political life of power and security in human motivation.”(67) Although this may seem a clear exposition of the primary objective of decision makers, it is actually a much more ambiguous statement. Gilpin’s argument that all realists view states as pursuing power and security is complicated by the fact that the pursuit of power and security do not always perfectly overlap. Gilpin defines power as resources: the combined “military, economic, and technological capabilities of states.”(68) Thus, power includes – but is not restricted to – military capabilities; more specifically, power contains within it two different elements – military preparedness and economic capacity – that will sometimes be incompatible. Viewing states as pursuing power leads to very different hypotheses about state behavior than if they are seen as maximizing security. Maximizing security implies that military security requirements will trump those of economic capacity whenever the two conflict – as neorealists argue. In contrast, the argument that states pursue power suggests that states will make trade-offs between economic capacity and military preparedness, given that power is ultimately a function of both military and economic might. In the end, however, it is unclear whether Gilpin views states as ultimately pursuing power or security.(69)

Waltz is very clear on this question, arguing “the ultimate concern of states is not for power but for security.”(70) Waltz recognizes that the pursuit of security and power do not always coincide and makes explicit his view that a rational state will seek power only if the security objective has first been ensured.(71) Yet, Mearsheimer appears to contradict Waltz on this point; Mearsheimer asserts that states ultimately “aim to maximize their relative power.”(72) Mearsheimer’s statement notwithstanding, his own analyses and hypotheses reflect the view that states ultimately pursue security, not power, as Waltz argues. Mearsheimer focuses on the military basis of power, asserting that states aim “to acquire more military power at the expense of potential rivals.”(73) Of course, military might is not the only basis of power, with economic capacity also being a vital component, as Gilpin and Kennedy emphasize.(74) In the end, Mearsheimer can most accurately be viewed as arguing that states above all seek to maximize their security but, in pursuing this goal, will sometimes also enhance their power. The pursuit of power and security coincide only under certain conditions – notably when capturing the economic resources of another state is both the preferred route to security as well as the most cost-effective means of increasing power. It is important, however, not to confound – as Mearsheimer apparently does – the notion that the pursuit of power and of security can sometimes overlap with the idea that states ultimately pursue power, since there will be many circumstances when the pursuit of power and of security will not only fail to overlap, but will actually conflict, as Waltz recognizes. In circumstances where the pursuit of power and security do, in fact, conflict, Mearsheimer would undoubtedly end up agreeing with Waltz’s view that states first seek to ensure their military security before they pursue power. For neorealists, therefore, states ultimately pursue security, not power.

Another source of confusion within Gilpin’s analysis – which relates directly to the power versus security question – concerns whether he views states as having a hierarchy of objectives. In some places, Gilpin contends states do have a hierarchy of goals; be argues that although states have a wide variety of objectives, all of the “more noble goals” of society “will be lost unless one makes provision for one’s security in the power struggle among groups.”(75) Inherent in this formulation is the idea that security requirements trump the pursuit of other state objectives, and hence that Gilpin’s analysis is compatible with the Waltzian neorealist conception of state preferences.(76) At other points, however, Gilpin maintains that states do not have a hierarchy of objectives; instead, he argues that theories that “assume that one can speak of a hierarchy of objectives” actually “misrepresent the behavior and decision-making processes of states.”(77) Rather, Gilpin asserts that “it is the mix and trade-offs of objectives rather than their ordering that is critical to an understanding of foreign policy.”(78)

Gilpin is thus ambivalent about whether to assume that states have a hierarchy of preferences or to criticize such a perspective. Gilpin equivocates because he actually occupies a middle-ground position: although he clearly regards military security as the vital priority of the state, he does not view rational states as privileging short-term military preparedness over economic capacity in the manner that neorealists do. In the end, Gilpin can best be understood as arguing that states do have a hierarchy of objectives, yet it is a much more flexible hierarchy than neorealists envision.

This understanding of Gilpin’s argument can be generalized to produce a postclassical realist conception of state preferences. Whereas neorealism views the pursuit of power as secondary to that of security, postclassical realism regards rational states as ultimately seeking to increase the economic resources under their control – and thus their long-term power given that “wealth . . . is a necessary means to power”(79) – subject to the constraint of providing for short-term military security. For postclassical realism, therefore, power – and not security – is the ultimate goal of states.

The postclassical realist view that states pursue power is compatible with Gilpin’s apt contention that it is the trade-offs, and not the ordering, of objectives that is important, since the concept of power itself contains within it an inherent tension between economic capacity and military security. In marked contrast to neorealism, postclassical realism argues that a rational decision maker may decide to trade off military preparedness to some degree when the potential net gains in terms of enhanced economic capacity are substantial relative to the probability of security losses. States will be especially likely to make such trade-offs when their economic resources are highly constrained. Perhaps the most prominent example of such a scenario is Gilpin’s and Kennedy’s argument that a declining power may rationally decide to retrench from some of its external positions, enhancing long-term economic capacity at the cost of somewhat reducing short-term protection vis-a-vis potential military adversaries.(80)

The idea that states seek power is not new in realist thought; it provided the foundation for the classical realism of Morgenthau, Rienhold Niebuhr, and others. Is the postclassical realist conception of power as the dominant goal of international actors distinguishable from the classical realist understanding? In practice, a crucial difference exists between the two approaches concerning their view of power. Specifically, although both theories regard the international system as a competition for power, they disagree as to the form and intensity that the pursuit of power will take.

Classical realism views decision makers as constantly striving to dominate others: policymakers are characterized as being guided by a rapacious lust for power. Within classical realism, therefore, power is regarded as an end in itself: for Morgenthau, one’s “lust for power would be satisfied only if the last man became the object of his domination.”(81) As a result, states are viewed as always actively seeking any possible means to advance their power over other nations, taking military advantage of weaker states whenever they have the chance.(82)

Postclassical realism advances a very different perspective: state decision makers do not maximize power because of an insatiable desire to dominate others; rather states pursue power because doing so allows for maximum flexibility in achieving the nation’s instrumental interests. In other words, postclassical realism holds that decision makers pursue power because it is the mechanism by which to achieve the state’s overriding objectives.(83) States are seen as seeking to enhance their share of economic resources, and hence their power, because it provides the foundation for military capacity, and furthermore because economic resources can themselves be used to influence other international actors. Because power is viewed as a mechanism, and not an end in itself, states are expected to pursue power subject to cost-benefit calculations. In this respect, Gilpin argues that “there have been many cases throughout history in which states have forgone apparent opportunities to increase their power because they judged the costs to be too high.”(84) Compared to classical realism, therefore, postclassical realism envisions states as being more deliberative in their pursuit of power.

The postclassical realist assertion that states pursue power does not mean that states are seen as necessarily engaging in conquest. Engaging in conquest in order to capture economic resources controlled by other states is a method to increase power, but it is not the only method. States can also enhance their relative share of economic resources, and hence their power, through nonmilitary means, such as: (1) by actively seeking changes in international trade patterns;(85) (2) by creating more efficient institutions to reduce transaction costs and better ensure property rights;(86) (3) by using economic leverage to secure supplies of inexpensive raw materials and other supplies from weaker states;(87) and (4) by reducing nonproductive expenditures to free up resources for economic advancement.(88) The postclassical realist conception of international behavior asserts that in situations when the first strategy, conquest, is the most cost-effective means to increase power, states will be prone to use military force in order to enhance their power. In contrast, in situations when one or a combination of the earlier mentioned nonmilitary strategies provides the most cost-effective means to increase power, international competition will still be endemic, but states will not be prone to use military force to further their power; rather, as is the case today among the major industrialized powers, states will rely on nonmilitary means to enhance their power. In comparison to neorealism, therefore, postclassical realism advances a much more conditional view of whether incentives for military aggression exist in the system; this conditional assessment undergirds the postclassical realist view that states will not make worst-case assumptions but will, instead, be conditioned by the probability of conflict.

In summary, postclassical realism regards states as ultimately seeking to increase their share of economic resources and, hence, their power. This focus on power resembles classical realism, but postclassical realism has a very different understanding of how and why states pursue power in the international system.

 

Implications for Realist Theory

Given realism’s focus on competition in the international system, it is curious that realists have so far refrained from engaging in intellectual competition with each other regarding their theory’s assumptions. Thus, although realists have frequently engaged in spirited debates with nonrealists regarding assumptions about state behavior,(89) they have not yet similarly directed their sights in an inward direction. The framework advanced here should promote some much needed debate among realists regarding their theory’s underlying assumptions.

As will be seen, the assumptions undergirding the analyses of neorealists such as Waltz and Mearsheimer lead to one set of hypotheses about state behavior, whereas the contrasting assumptions of postclassical realism result in a rival understanding. For reasons of space, the empirical analysis here is an abridged comparison intended to underscore the importance of explicitly taking into account the variance in realist assumptions about state behavior. Throughout this section, I do not mean to imply that realist-based analyses of the phenomena in question provide the only useful explanation, just that exploring these contrasting realist hypotheses is a useful exercise.

Neorealism advances very few hypotheses about state behavior; the three principal hypotheses are: (1) balancing behavior constantly recurs, (2) states will be constrained from engaging in cooperation, and (3) states copy the advances made by rival powers (the “sameness effect”). The current empirical manifestations of these three neorealist hypotheses – and the contrasting postclassical realist understanding – are outlined here. These cases were thus chosen because they provide a range of examples that is broad but falls well within the restricted explanatory scope of neorealist theory.

 

1. Balancing Hypothesis: The Future Behavior of Germany and Japan

Neorealism’s main hypothesis is that balancing behavior constantly recurs.(90) With respect to the current environment, neorealists argue international incentives will compel Germany and Japan to rise to great power status to balance the United States’ military preponderance.(91) For neorealists, “the hegemon’s possession of actual or latent military capabilities will result in balancing regardless of its intentions.”(92) Thus, even if the United States does not actively seek to threaten the interests of Germany or Japan, neorealists argue that balancing behavior will occur nevertheless.(93) This view that Germany and Japan will strengthen their militaries in order to guard against the mere possibility that the United States might act coercively clearly reflects neorealism’s worst-case perspective.

Christopher Layne pointedly criticizes those who argue that Germany and Japan will “eschew military strength in favor of economic power.”(94) He argues that “eligible states that fail to attain great power status are predictably punished,” and hence that Japan and Germany will strive to become military powers even though pursuing such a policy will entail substantial economic costs.(95) In this respect, neorealists maintain that Germany and Japan will not continue down the path they have taken since World War II namely, focusing on economic capacity while avoiding large expenditures on military security.

For postclassical realism, in contrast, Germany and Japan will not likely balance the United States. Even if Germany and Japan grow economically in the future, developing a military force capable of credibly deterring the economically much larger United States will continue to be very costly. A choice by Germany or Japan to bolster their military forces to balance the United States would also entail considerable economic opportunity costs: each would risk a reduction both in their substantial international export markets and in their access to certain technologies. Given these large economic costs, postclassical realism asserts that balancing behavior will occur only if there exists a significant probability – and not just the possibility, as neorealists argue – that the United States will use its superior military capabilities in a coercive manner. In the end, postclassical realism does not expect Germany and Japan to move in a unilateral direction, since the economic constraints of doing so are more salient than the probability of military exploitation by the United States.

It is perhaps too soon to definitively conclude whether the neorealist or postclassical realist understanding is relatively more useful. However, the latest evidence favors postclassical realism. German defense expenditures have declined in absolute terms every year since 1990.(96) In November 1995, the Japanese Cabinet approved a new defense plan outlining significant military spending cuts.(97) Furthermore, neither Germany nor Japan has sought to break free of U.S. influence by respectively weakening NATO or the U.S.-Japan Security Treaty; rather, both countries have sought to reaffirm their security commitments with the United States.(98) Layne notwithstanding, it appears that Germany and Japan have decided that they can best advance their international influence by continuing to enhance their economic, and not military, strength.

 

2. “Sameness Effect” Hypothesis: Ukraine and Nuclear Weapons

The second principal neorealist hypothesis is that the “possibility that conflict will be conducted by force . . . produces a tendency towards the sameness of the competitors,” – that is, rational states will imitate successful international technological, organizational, and other advances that have been adopted by competing powers.(99) With respect to the current international environment, the most important illustration of this “sameness effect” hypothesis is the neorealist argument that there will likely be significant nuclear proliferation in the post-Cold War era.(100) The most prominent case in point concerns Mearsheimer’s 1993 argument that Ukraine would retain the nuclear deterrent it inherited following the breakup of the Soviet Union.(101)

Mearsheimer likely advanced his unequivocal claim with respect to Ukraine for two principal reasons: first, at that time Ukraine already possessed nuclear weapons; and second, Ukraine faced a substantial security threat from Russia, a country with substantially greater military resources at its disposal and with which Ukraine has a history of tense relations, including several unresolved border disputes, particularly over Crimea. However, maintaining a nuclear deterrent would have been very expensive, requiring a substantial portion of Ukraine’s gross domestic product. Furthermore, the costs to Ukraine of remaining a nuclear power were not limited to direct budgetary outlays, since decision makers had to consider the economic opportunity costs of pursuing proliferation, namely forgone financial compensation from Russia and loss of Western aid and markets. Consistent with neorealism’s conception of state preferences, Mearsheimer denied that these substantial economic costs would dissuade Ukraine from maintaining a nuclear deterrent.(102)

With respect to the Ukrainian case, Steven Miller directly rebutted Mearsheimer’s hypothesis by employing an argument that is consonant with the postclassical realist conception of state behavior. Miller underscored that “despite the myth that nuclear weapons are cheap, they are in fact quite expensive for most states” and “given Ukraine’s economic needs and constraints, there will surely be incentives to minimize the resources devoted to defense, and the sums associated with a medium nuclear capability will surely be painful for Kiev.”(103) Retaining the nuclear deterrent was costly due to high maintenance requirements; in particular, the liquid fuel for Ukraine’s SS-19 intercontinental ballistic missiles made them particularly troublesome and costly to maintain.(104) The economic costs were not restricted to direct budgetary outlays; as Miller emphasized, pursuing proliferation would also mean “prospects for aid from and trade with the West would be harmed, a setback that has security implications given the importance of economic strength to national power.”(105) In the end, the United States pledged over $900 million in direct financial assistance to Ukraine to renounce its nuclear weapons,(106) as well as additional equipment and resources to aid Ukraine in the process of dismantling its nuclear stockpile.(107) Russia also offered Ukraine extensive economic incentives to forgo proliferation, including forgiveness of Ukraine’s multibillion dollar oil and gas debt to Russia.(108) Moreover, Ukraine was pledged substantial future transfers of nuclear fuel (estimated at a value of $1 billion) for its civilian reactors as part of a trilateral agreement with Russia and the United States.(109) Ultimately, therefore, a decision to maintain Ukraine’s nuclear deterrent would have resulted in a significant reduction in the country’s economic capacity due to (1) direct budgetary outlays, (2) loss of aid from Russia and the West, and (3) forgone integration into global markets.

In the end, although security tensions with Russia were certainly considerable, the huge economic costs to Ukraine of maintaining a nuclear deterrent were apparently even more significant. Ukraine has now ceased to be a nuclear power altogether – in early June 1996 the last of its nineteen hundred nuclear warheads were sent to Russia for destruction.(110) This Ukrainian decision to renounce its nuclear deterrent to advance its economic capacity is a marked anomaly for neorealism.

 

3. Cooperation Hypothesis: Regional Trade Blocs in the Developing World

The third important neorealist hypothesis is that states will be very reluctant to cooperate due to fears about how the gains will be distributed.(111) As Waltz argues, “States do not willingly place themselves in situations of increased dependence. In a self-help system, considerations of security subordinate economic gain to political interest.”(112) It would be a caricature, however, to say that neorealists regard international cooperation as impossible – they merely view it as greatly constrained.

With respect to current circumstances, the neorealist perspective suggests that developing countries will be very unlikely to pursue cooperation, especially given that security issues are often quite salient in this region.(113) Yet, many cooperative efforts have been initiated in the developing world in recent years, including the Southern Cone Common Market (Mercosur), the Andean Pact, the ASEAN Free Trade Agreement (AFTA), and the Central American Common Market (CACM), to name a few.(114) Significant security issues exist within all of these organizations: (1) within the Andean Pact, Peru and Ecuador engaged in direct military hostilities in late 1994; (2) within ASEAN, defense expenditures have increased dramatically in recent years and several serious territorial disputes exist among its members, most notably over the oil-rich Spratly Islands; and (3) there is a history of strong military rivalry between Brazil and Argentina within Mercosur and also between El Salvador and Honduras in CACM. The decision of these developing countries to initiate attempts at cooperation despite these security issues significantly contradicts neorealism.

In contrast, although postclassical realism sees states as being constrained from cooperating when security issues are salient, cooperation is still regarded as being feasible if the gains in economic capacity are even more significant than the potential security risks. For many developing countries, it does appear the economic benefits of cooperation are significantly higher in the current international environment compared to earlier periods. Specifically, being a member of a bloc: (1) augments negotiating power vis-a-vis larger economic actors that advance assertive unilateral trade policies; (2) acts as a “safety net” – regional trade partners could serve as alternative export markets if the European Union and/or the North American Free Trade Agreement turn aggressively protectionist; (3) enhances the chance of attracting foreign direct investment; and (4) allows member states to reduce transaction costs and acquire economies of scale at a time when the number and efficiency of exporters have increased dramatically in recent years. For many developing countries, engaging in regional cooperation can thus help promote international competitiveness. For the developing country trade pacts mentioned earlier, these four potential economic benefits of cooperation appear to supersede the constraining impact of relative gains concerns, thereby making cooperation possible.

The decision of these developing countries to pursue cooperation with potential rivals is incompatible with neorealism’s underlying assumptions about state behavior. In contrast, for postclassical realism, such behavior is consistent with the view that rational states make trade-offs and will favor economic capacity over security concerns in situations where the potential for enhanced economic competitiveness from regional cooperation outweighs the probability of security losses.

 

What Should Neorealists Do Now?

This brief empirical review is intended to demonstrate the usefulness of pitting the two branches of realism against each other in a direct debate, given that they produce such different hypotheses. Although the empirical analysis presented here is not definitive, one might reasonably ask how neorealists should respond, especially given that the cases reviewed represent current empirical manifestations of neorealism’s three primary hypotheses.

Although these cases do not support neorealism, the theory’s proponents should not respond by engaging in post hoc explanations in light of empirical evidence that contradicts neorealism’s expectations; doing so greatly constrains theoretical progress. Waltz engages in such a post hoc attempt to explain why many states are now emphasizing economic capacity to a greater degree vis-a-vis military security than neorealism would lead us to expect. Waltz points to the impact of nuclear weapons, arguing that they “make balancing easy to do” and enable states “to concentrate attention on their economies rather than on their military forces.”(115) By arguing in this manner that many states are currently focusing on economic capacity because nuclear weapons have made military security easier to achieve, Waltz thus adheres to the original neorealist conception of state preferences and avoids the need to consider whether many current states may be emphasizing economic capacity because it can, in fact, rival military security in importance.

Waltz’s nuclear weapons argument is ultimately unsatisfactory. Even if Waltz is correct that nuclear weapons will reduce the importance of security concerns and allow states to focus more on economics, the fact remains that a great many states are emphasizing economic capacity to a greater degree than neorealism suggests despite lacking a nuclear deterrent. The cases outlined earlier are clear examples of this fact. Germany and Japan are focusing on economic capacity but do not possess nuclear weapons. Ukraine’s decision to pursue economic capacity did not result from the stabilizing impact of nuclear weapons – rather, the method to advance economic priorities was, in fact, centered around Ukraine’s unilateral relinquishment of nuclear weapons. Finally, none of the developing countries who are now cooperating have nuclear weapons, yet they are nevertheless collaborating. It would seem the dependent variable that Waltz seeks to explain – namely, the decision of many current states to focus on economic capacity to a greater extent than neorealist theory would lead us to expect – has occurred before his primary independent variable – the presence of nuclear weapons – has come into play. Ultimately, therefore, Waltz’s post hoc explanation is empirically implausible.

Do neorealists have any other options? Faced with empirical irregularities, a logical neorealist response would be to ask for more time to evaluate their hypotheses. A very different neorealist response would be to concede that states are acting contrary to their theory’s expectations but to declare that such states are (1) acting contrary to system incentives and (2) that these decisions will ultimately have negative repercussions due to the competitive tenets of the international system. However, both of these potential neorealist responses pose a considerable danger: neorealism’s proponents could employ such arguments in order to indefinitely extend the testing period of neorealism’s hypotheses. In this respect, Layne argues that Germany and Japan will balance the United States within a “reasonably short time,” but he then goes on to point out that we may have to wait for up to fifty years to see the behavior he expects.(116) In the end, it is incumbent on neorealists to provide a means by which to assess the usefulness of the theory’s hypotheses; neorealists cannot simply ask for more time without identifying indicators of the trends that they foresee.

Finally, neorealists might respond by arguing that their theory is very parsimonious and hence cannot be expected to be empirically accurate. Such a claim would be problematic in two respects. First, the preceding empirical analysis involves cases that directly address neorealism’s primary hypotheses; yet, neorealism does not even identify the correct tendency in these examples. Second, as Stephan Haggard argues, “the claim for superiority of a theory on the basis of its parsimony cannot stand alone. What use is a parsimonious theory that is wrong or that explains only a small portion of the variance? The issue, therefore, is not one of parsimony per se but of the trade-off between parsimony and explanatory power.”(117) Postclassical realism does represent a step away from Waltz’s sparse architecture, but it is not a dramatic shift away from parsimony. Specifically, postclassical realism is parsimonious in three important respects: (1) it focuses on material factors that function independently of shared social understandings and institutional characteristics; (2) it operates with a state-centric, unitary actor assumption; and (3) although not a structural theory, postclassical realism is systemic, since it focuses on international-level factors and does not examine domestic political variables. Hence, if the preceding empirical analysis is any indication, the gain in explanatory power of a postclassical realist approach may turn out to more than compensate for the relative loss of parsimony compared to neorealism.

 

Implications for Nonrealist Theories

Although I conducted this analysis within the confines of realism, the repercussions extend to nonrealist theories as well. Recognizing the possibility/probability distinction within realism helps to explain why the debate with nonrealist theories has so far been couched in highly competitive terms and also indicates potential for a more productive future dialogue.

 

Liberalism and Constructivism

Up to this point the exchange between neorealism and nonrealist theories such as constructivism and liberalism has not been very productive. The essential reason is that neorealism’s possibilistic focus guarantees that debate with such probabilistic, nonrealist theories will necessarily be a zero-sum exercise. Neorealists cannot recognize the validity of any of the factors nonrealist theories identify as influencing the probability of conflict. To admit that such factors have credence would be a tacit recognition of the deficiency of neorealism’s worst-case/possibilistic assumption.

Recognizing that neorealism’s possibilistic focus automatically leads to a zero-sum contest with probabilistic, nonrealist theories helps to explain why, for example, neorealists have been so averse to accepting the validity of the democratic peace proposition, even as empirical evidence mounts in support of this finding.(118) Significantly, democratic peace proponents such as Bruce Russett do not argue that war between democracies is impossible, but rather that shared democracy significantly reduces the probability of war.(119) Liberals also do not posit that shared democracy is the only factor influencing the likelihood of conflict, just that it is an important factor that must be taken into account.(120) The democratic peace finding is unimpressive to neorealists precisely because of their possibilistic focus. For neorealists, the relevant question is not whether shared democracy reduces the probability of conflict, but instead whether the possibility that democracies might engage in war continues to exist. This makes it easier to understand why the existence of even a small number of potential outliers to the democratic peace proposition is regarded by neorealists as such a serious deficiency.(121) Significantly, Russett does not rule out the potential existence of outliers, asserting that it should be “enough to say . . . that wars between democracies are at most extremely rare events.”(122) For neorealists, however, the existence of even a small number of potential outliers is all that matters; outliers would mean that war between democracies is still possible and hence, in neorealism’s worst-case framework, that states will continue to focus on the capabilities of potential aggressors irrespective of institutional characteristics to be prepared for all contingencies.

In contrast, the probabilistic focus of postclassical realism is more amenable to productive discussion with nonrealist theories. Analyses based on postclassical realism, on the one hand, and those of nonrealist theories such as liberalism and constructivism, on the other hand, differ in important respects, notably as to whether they emphasize material or nonmaterial factors. Yet, this should not overshadow that the two sides ask similar questions and are united in the view that factors exist besides the distribution of military capabilities that cause the probability of conflict to systematically vary. Both sides are thus critiques of neorealism, albeit from different perspectives. The analyses of postclassical realism and those of liberalism or constructivism are not necessarily antithetical; indeed, each may turn out to complement the others by contributing different elements of the answers to certain questions that no single theory can satisfactorily solve on its own. In this respect, some nonrealists are willing to admit that realist-based analyses continue to have an invaluable role to play.(123) The probabilistic underpinnings of postclassical realism make feasible the adoption of a reciprocal stance with respect to nonrealist theories.

 

Domestic-level Explanations

As with the dialogue with liberalism and constructivism, neorealists have couched the interchange with domestic-level theories in essentially zero-sum terms. In large part, the debate with domestic-level theories has been characterized in this manner because of neorealism’s worst-case/possibilistic focus. Neorealism’s worst-case perspective leads to the view that states have highly constrained policy options: states always seek to balance the military capabilities of potential aggressors, military security trumps other goals (such as economic capacity) where conflict exists between them, and so on. Neorealism thus admits essentially no need to look at domestic-level processes because actors are understood to have minimal discretion regarding the strategies they adopt. Within the neorealist framework, the only consequential impact domestic politics can have is to prevent the state from taking steps, such as balancing, to maximize military security. This explains the zero-sum nature of the debate with domestic-level theories – neorealism admits that domestic factors are important only to the extent that they prevent the state from responding to international incentives.

In contrast, postclassical realism views states as having a wider range of policy options; it is emphasized that states often make trade-offs between different priorities, notably between military security and economic capacity. As a result, postclassical realism accepts an important, non-zero-sum role for domestic-level understandings under some circumstances. Systemic constraints will often cause states to discern a clear strategy to advance their overriding objectives; this will especially be the case when the international influences on states are very strong and/or when the state is relatively susceptible to these systemic factors. At other times, the strategy to pursue the state’s primary objectives may be more ambiguous. In circumstances where the preferred strategy is unclear, the mechanism by which particular policies are selected may be significantly influenced by domestic-level bargaining.(124) In such situations, the systemic focus of postclassical realism may need to be supplemented by domestic-level analyses to sufficiently comprehend international behavior. In this respect, Michael Mastanduno, David Lake, and G. John Ikenberry advance a framework for understanding how decision makers balance the pursuit of power against domestic strategies for achieving this objective.(125)

Neorealism and postclassical realism thus differ markedly regarding the role that domestic-level arguments have in explaining international behavior. For postclassical realism, analyses should be undertaken in stages: first, at the systemic level, and then, if necessary, complemented and extended at the domestic level. An essential difficulty with neorealism is that it is not self-conscious of its own limitations; the theory admits no need for undertaking analyses in stages in this manner. Rather than regarding unit-level analyses as potentially useful clarifying devices, neorealists instead tend to regard domestic understandings as either competitive to neorealism or essentially spurious. Both perspectives are too extreme and impede progress in understanding international behavior, but these reactions are understandable once one recognizes that neorealism’s worst-case/possibilistic focus leads it to view states as possessing limited discretion regarding their choice of strategies.

This is not to suggest that Waltz is wrong to assert that focusing on international forces is valuable; a systemic focus is useful, but this does not necessarily mean that domestic-level factors should be ignored. A more reasonable justification for adopting a systemic focus is that concentrating first on international forces often provides a sufficient understanding of behavior, both for analysts as well as for policymakers. Moreover, in those circumstances where a systemic analysis is insufficient on its own, such an initial focus is nevertheless still useful because it helps ensure as detailed an understanding as possible of the international pressures on actors. Ultimately, a thorough understanding of external constraints is, as Keohane emphasizes, an essential precursor to analysis of international behavior at the domestic level.(126)

 

Conclusion

My analysis partitions realism into two branches by revealing latent disputes within the theory regarding a series of assumptions about state behavior. In particular, realism diverges regarding whether the mere possibility of conflict conditions decision making, as neorealism assumes, or whether actors decide between policy options based on the probability of conflict, as postclassical realism asserts. Neorealists view the international system as a relentless competition for security; in contrast, postclassical realism is agnostic regarding security competition in the international system: within postclassical realism, the strength of security pressures fluctuates according to a variety of material factors besides the distribution of capabilities, namely technology, geography, and international economic pressures. This possibility/probability distinction harbors two related disagreements within realism. First, neorealism views states as discounting the future to a greater degree than is assumed within postclassical realism. Second, realism is divided regarding state preferences: neorealism emphasizes military security as the overriding priority, whereas postclassical realism maintains that states ultimately pursue power – a concept that contains an inherent tension between military security and economic capacity, where neither goal is necessarily subordinate to the other.

In differentiating these two branches of realism, I do not mean to imply that the theory necessarily needs to be permanently split into two camps; however, at this point the two branches must be distinguished because, as this article shows, realism does not have a unified set of assumptions about state behavior. As long as realists continue to derive their hypotheses from different sets of assumptions, the theory must be divided in order to be clear about exactly what is being tested.

As the underlying divergence within realism becomes apparent, the two branches may engage in an empirical “duel” in order to determine which set of assumptions about state behavior is relatively most useful. Alternatively, the two branches of realism may refrain from engaging in an extended empirical debate. Until now, the worst-case/possibilistic underpinnings of neorealism have been hidden from view and have thus far escaped critical examination. International relations scholars – including many neorealists – may simply come to view this worst-case/possibilistic perspective as being too inflexible.

If neorealists do conclude that their worst-case/possibilistic assumption is too restrictive – and that a probabilistic focus is more useful – this would not mean that neorealism’s current view of state behavior is completely wrong. To be clear, to say that actors are conditioned by the probability of conflict does not deny that actors will under some circumstances behave in a highly cautious and conservative manner, that is, take extensive and costly measures to ensure their military security. Neorealism and postclassical realism are differentiated in terms of how often – and not whether – actors are expected to behave in a highly cautious and conservative manner: the former says always, the latter, sometimes. Neorealism appears unsatisfactory not because the theory’s conception of state behavior is wrong all of the time, but rather because the theory inflexibly claims that this perspective is operative under all circumstances. If, in the end, neorealists decide a shift toward a probabilistic perspective is appropriate, postclassical realism would essentially come to subsume neorealism.

Partitioning realist theory as suggested holds out hope for progress in three respects. First, dividing realism should lead to a more precise conceptualization of the theory and help provide a better understanding of the varying impact of different material factors on state behavior.

Second, dividing realism in this manner makes it easier to understand exactly why interchanges with nonrealist theories have been so disappointing and suggests the possibility of more productive future dialogue. If realism were to settle on a probabilistic focus, it would be possible to move beyond arguments that respectively assert the universal primacy of either realist or nonrealist explanations and to start exploring the conditions under which each is more or less helpful and, in turn, how they can sometimes usefully supplement each other.

Finally, the analysis serves as a counterpoint to the pessimism that is typical of realist theory. Neorealism’s worst-case focus and emphasis on capabilities to the exclusion of other variables leads its proponents to see little hope for progress in international relations. However, it would be premature to conclude that all realist analyses view international relations as necessarily consisting of relentless security competition in which defensive vigilance is the only hope for forestalling aggression. The range of material factors that postclassical realism identifies as influencing the likelihood of conflict are arguably currently quite favorable for low security tensions among the major powers. Unlike neorealism, therefore, postclassical realism provides some reason to be sanguine that the current positive state of security relations between the major powers need not be merely a temporary anomaly.

 

This material is based on work supported under a National Science Foundation Graduate Fellowship. I thank Deborah Jordan Brooks, Joseph Grieco, Ian Hurd, David Lumsdaine, Sylvia Maxfield, John Odell, Barry O’Neill, Jonathan Rodden, Frances Rosenbluth, Allan Stam, Stephen Skowronek, Nigel Thalakada, Shaoguang Wang, Brad Westerfield, the members of Yale University’s International Relations Reading Group, the anonymous reviewers for International Organization, and especially Bruce Russett and Alex Wendt for their helpful comments on earlier drafts.

 

Notes

1. See, for example, Gilpin 1984, 290-91; Keohane 1986, 164-65; Grieco 1995, 27; Vasquez 1983, 26-28; Stein 1990, 4-5; Kapstein 1995, 753; Keohane and Nye 1977, 23-24; Grieco 1990, 3-4; and Gilpin 1996, 7-8.

2. See, for example, Snyder 1991, 11-12; Lynn-Jones and Miller 1995, x-xiii; Deudney 1993, 8; Glaser 1994-95,378-81; Mastanduno 1996, 2; Wait 1992, 474; Mearsheimer 1994-95, fns. 20, 27; Frankel 1996, xv-xviii; Grieco 1997; Wohlforth 1993, 11-14; Zakaria 1992, 190-93; Miller 1996; and Jervis 1993, 55-56.

3. Some analysts identify the need to make distinctions within realism but emphasize only those assumptions that realists hold in common; see, for example, Meatsheimer 1994-95, 11-13; Lynn-Jones and Miller 1995, ix-x; Glaser 1994-95, 54-55; Wait 1992, 473; and Mastanduno 1996, 3-5. Other scholars outline divisions within realism only with respect to particular issue areas; see, for example, Deudney 1993; Miller 1996; and Desch 1996. Some suggest that realists may diverge regarding certain assumptions but do not address whether realism should be divided on this basis; see, for example, Grieco 1997; and Wayman and Diehl 1994, 9. The division between “aggressive” and “defensive” realists is the most comprehensive outlined so far; see, for example, Snyder 1991, 11-12; Zakaria 1992, 190-93; and Frankel 1996, xv-xviii. Section two argues that this aggressive/defensive distinction is useful but is reflective of the deeper divergence within realism over assumptions outlined in this article.

4. Waltz 1979.

5. In choosing the term “postclassical realism” to distinguish the two branches of realism, I do not mean to imply that the theory necessarily must be permanently divided, just that dividing realism is currently necessary to improve and clarify the theory. The rationale for selecting the term is outlined in section two.

6. A “systemic” approach to understanding international behavior is sometimes seen as being interchangeable with a “structural” one. I use the term systemic to refer to analyses that focus on international influences and do not examine domestic political variables. “Structural” analyses – which focus on the role of polarity – are best seen as a form of, rather than being synonymous with, “systemic” theory.

7. For arguments discussing the distinction between possibility and probability in a different context, see Wendt 1992, 404; and Keohane 1993, 282-83.

8. Mearsheimer 1994-95, 10.

9. Waltz 1989, 43.

10. Waltz 1979, 111, 102.

11. Waltz 1959, 188.

12. Keohane and Martin and Wendt reach a similar assessment, although they attribute this worst-case assumption to realism in general; Keohane and Martin 1995, 43; and Wendt 1992, 404. As will be seen, not all realists adopt such a worst-case focus.

13. Mearsheimer 1994-95, 12.

14. Ibid., 11.

15. Liberman 1993, 125.

16. Waltz 1959, 201.

17. Waltz 1979, 114.

18. See Powell, 1991, 1993; and Wendt 1992, 1995. Although Wendt and Powell advance the same underlying argument that anarchy by itself does not shape decisions regarding balancing and cooperation, they point to different underlying factors as affecting the perceived likelihood of force: Powell examines the impact of military technology, whereas Wendt outlines the importance of intersubjective understandings.

19. Waltz 1959, 16-42.

20. Morgenthau 1946, 192-94.

21. Mearsheimer 1990, 12.

22. Waltz 1959, 188.

23. For a clear example of how neorealists rely on human nature, see Fischer’s analysis of feudal Europe; Fischer 1992, 465.

24. Waltz 1979, 91.

25. Ibid., 118.

26. For a good summary as to why an ironclad trade-off does not exist between military security and economic capacity under all circumstances, see Friedberg 1989.

27. See Gaddis 1982, 58, 133-35; Kennedy 1983; and Wohlforth 1994-95.

28. See Kennedy 1987; and Gilpin 1981.

29. Rosecrance 1981, 693. Although Rosecrance did not specify the meaning of “economics” in the preceding quote, he appears to have been referring – correctly – to the fact that Waltz ignores international economic interactions as unit-level processes; see Rosecrance 1982, 682. This is an important critique of Waltz’s theory; unfortunately it is clouded by Rosecrance’s use of the blanket term economics rather than referring more specifically to economic interactions between states.

30. Mearsheimer 1992, 222 (emphasis added).

31. Waltz 1959, 206.

32. Waltz 1979, 92.

33. Waltz argues that states may “seek goals that they value more highly than survival; they may, for example, prefer amalgamation with other states to their own survival in form”; Waltz 1979, 92.

34. Waltz, 1959, 221, 160.

35. Waltz 1986, 331.

36. Baldwin 1995.

37. Waltz 1979, 79-80.

38. Examples of analyses that are explicitly based on expected utility include Gilpin 1981; Huth and Russett 1984; Bueno de Mesquita 1981; and Lipson 1984.

39. Keohane 1993, 282.

40. Luce and Raiffa 1957, 278-89.

41. ibid., 282.

42. See Farnham 1994; and Tversky and Kahneman 1986.

43. Levy 1994, 14.

44. Ibid.

45. Gilpin 1984, 290.

46. Neorealists recognize that domestic factors – such as hyper-nationalism – can also have an important impact, but such factors are excluded from their theory. Although some neorealists have attempted to incorporate domestic factors such as hyper-nationalism into neorealism (see, for example, Mearsheimer 1990, 21), doing so would be a post hoc, degenerative means of increasing the theory’s explanatory power; on this point see Haggard 1991, 421; and Wendt 1995, 78-79.

47. Russett 1993, 1995.

48. Keohane and Martin 1995.

49. Wendt 1992, 1995.

50. See, for example, Jervis 1978; Quester 1977; and Glaser 1994-95.

51. Buzan 1993, 72-80.

52. Gaddis 1987, 232.

53. See Van Evera 1990-91, 14-16; and Kaysen 1990, 49, 53.

54. See, for example, Walt 1987, 23-24; Jervis 1978, 183-86, 194-96; and Bueno de Mesquita 1981, 40-44.

55. See, for example, Krasner 1978; and Jervis 1978, 179.

56. See, for example, Gilpin 1977; Wohlforth 1994-95; and Kennedy 1987.

57. See, for example, Gilpin 1981, especially 132-33, 138-40; Huntington 1993; Lake 1996; and Pollins 1994.

58. Wendt and Friedheim 1995, 691-92.

59. See, for example, Glaser 1994-95; Buzan 1993; and Walt 1987.

60. Snyder 1991, 11-12.

61. Ibid., 12.

62. Frankel 1996, xv-xvi.

63. Mearsheimer 1990, 12.

64. Gilpin 1981.

65. See, for example, Ruggie 1983; and Nye 1988, 245.

66. See, for example, Grieco 1990, 39; Ordeshook and Niou 1991, fn. 1; and Grunberg and Risse-Kappen 1992, 113.

67. Gilpin 1984, 290.

68. Gilpin 1981, 13. Gilpin’s conception of power will be used throughout this article; however, technological capacity is understood to be an element of economic capacity. I recognize – as does Gilpin – the limitations of such a definition of power, since it leaves out a myriad of nonmaterial factors, such as prestige, public morale, and leadership qualities; see Gilpin 1981, 13-14.

69. Joseph Grieco similarly points to this ambiguity within Gilpin’s analysis – and within realism in general – regarding whether states pursue power or security, although Grieco frames the power/security distinction differently than I do here; see Grieco 1997.

70. Waltz 1989, 40.

71. Waltz 1979, 126.

72. Mearsheimer 1994-95, 12; see also Mearsheimer 1990, 12.

73. Mearsheimer 1994-95, 13.

74. See Kennedy 1987; and Gilpin 1981.

75. Gilpin 1984, 290-91.

76. For this interpretation of Gilpin’s analysis, see Grieco 1990, 39.

77. Gilpin 1981, 19.

78. Gilpin 1981, 22 (emphasis added).

79. Mastanduno, Lake, and Ikenberry 1989, 462.

80. See Gilpin 1981, 194-97; and Kennedy 1987; see also Wohlforth 1994-95.

81. Morgenthau 1946, 193.

82. Some modem realists have returned to this classical realist conception of power maximization as being a useful assumption, at least as applied to certain states; see Zakaria 1992, 194; and Schweller 1994, 104-105.

83. For this perspective on power, see Gilpin 1996, 6; and Gilpin 1975, 23.

84. Gilpin 1981, 51.

85. See, for example, Krasner 1976; Lake 1984; Huntington 1993; and Gowa 1994.

86. This is the foundation of the New Institutional Economics; see, for example, North 1990; Alt and Shepsle 1990; and Kang 1995, 563-66.

87. See, for example, Hirschman 1980; and Krasner 1978.

88. See, for example, Kennedy 1987; and Gilpin 1981.

89. An excellent recent example is the relative/absolute gains debate; see Powell 1994.

90. Waltz 1979, especially 118-21, 128.

91. See Waltz 1993; and Layne 1995.

92. Layne 1995, fn. 34.

93. Waltz 1991, 669.

94. Layne 1995, fn. 12.

95. Layne 1995, 134-35.

96. SIPRI 1995, 390.

97. New York Times, 29 November 1995, A9.

98. Regarding Japan, see U.S. Department of State Dispatch, 22 April 1996, 200; and Far Eastern Economic Review, 2 May 1996, 14-16. Regarding Germany, see Smyser 1994; and Weekly Compilation of Presidential Documents, 13 February 1995, 216-24.

99. Waltz 1979, 127.

100. See Mearsheimer 1990; and Waltz 1993.

101. Mearsheimer 1993, 58, 66.

102. Mearsheimer maintained that “The United States should recognize that Ukraine is going to be a nuclear power, irrespective of what the West does”; Mearsheimer 1993, 66.

103. Miller 1993, 77.

104. Reiss 1995, 107, 126

105. Miller 1993, 79.

106. See New York Times, 4 March 1994, A3; and New York Times, 23 November 1994, A8.

107. Arms Control Today, October 1994, 21.

108. Reiss 1995, 117, 129.

109. Arms Control Today, Jan.-Feb. 1994, 12-20.

110. Economist, 8 June 1996, 6.

111. Waltz 1979, 104-107.

112. Ibid., 107.

113. Powell argues that states will be concerned about relative gains “when the possible use of force is at issue”; Powell 1991, 1316.

114. See Haggard 1995.

115. Waltz 1993, 74, 52.

116. Layne 1995, 142, 176.

117. Haggard 1991, 417.

118. For the democratic peace argument, see, for example, Russett 1993, 1995. For neorealist critiques, see, for example, Layne 1994; Mearsheimer 1990, 49-51; and Waltz 1993, 78.

119. Russett 1996, 178.

120. Russett 1995, 166.

121. See Waltz 1993, 78; Mearsheimer 1990, 51 and Layne 1994, 40-44.

122. Russett 1995, 169.

123. See, for example, Russett 1996, 176.

124. That strategy choice will often reflect both international incentives as well as domestic-level bargaining is the essence of Putnam’s argument regarding two-level games; Putnam 1988.

125. Mastanduno, Lake, and Ikenberry 1989.

126. See Keohane 1984a, 25-26; and Keohane 1984b, 16.

 

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Source: International Organization, Vol. 51, no. 3 (Summer 1997)

Economic Interdependence and War: A Theory of Trade Expectations

June 26, 2008

By Dale C. Copeland

 

Does economic interdependence increase or decrease the probability of war among states? With the Cold War over, this question is taking on importance as trade levels between established powers such as the United States and Russia and emerging powers such as Japan, China, and Western Europe grow to new heights. In this article, I provide a new dynamic theory to help overcome some of the theoretical and empirical problems with current liberal and realist views on the question.

The prolonged debate between realists and liberals on the causes of war has been largely a debate about the relative salience of different causal variables. Realists stress such factors as relative power, while liberals focus on the absence or presence of collective security regimes and the pervasiveness of democratic communities.(1) Economic interdependence is the only factor that plays an important causal role in the thinking of both camps, and their perspectives are diametrically opposed.

Liberals argue that economic interdependence lowers the likelihood of war by increasing the value of trading over the alternative of aggression: interdependent states would rather trade than invade. As long as high levels of interdependence can be maintained, liberals assert, we have reason for optimism. Realists dismiss the liberal argument, arguing that high interdependence increases rather than decreases the probability of war. In anarchy, states must constantly worry about their security. Accordingly, interdependence – meaning mutual dependence and thus vulnerability – gives states an incentive to initiate war, if only to ensure continued access to necessary materials and goods.

The unsatisfactory nature of both liberal and realist theories is shown by their difficulties in explaining the run-ups to the two World Wars. The period up to World War I exposes a glaring anomaly for liberal theory: the European powers had reached unprecedented levels of trade, yet that did not prevent them from going to war. Realists certainly have the correlation right – the war was preceded by high interdependence – but trade levels had been high for the previous thirty years; hence, even if interdependence was a necessary condition for the war, it was not sufficient.

At first glance, the period from 1920 to 1940 seems to support liberalism over realism. In the 1920s, interdependence was high, and the world was essentially peaceful; in the 1930s, as entrenched protectionism caused interdependence to fall, international tension rose to the point of world war. Yet the two most aggressive states in the system during the 1930s, Germany and Japan, were also the most highly dependent despite their efforts towards autarchy, relying on other states, including other great powers, for critical raw materials. Realism thus seems correct in arguing that high dependence may lead to conflict, as states use war to ensure access to vital goods. Realism’s problem with the interwar era, however, is that Germany and Japan had been even more dependent in the 1920s, yet they sought war only in the late 1930s when their dependence, although still significant, had fallen.

The theory presented in this article – the theory of trade expectations – helps to resolve these problems. The theory starts by clarifying the notion of economic interdependence, fusing the liberal insight that the benefits of trade give states an incentive to avoid war with the realist view that the potential costs of being cut off can push states to war to secure vital goods. The total of the benefits and potential costs of trade versus autarchy reveals the true level of dependence a state faces, for if trade is completely severed, the state not only loses the gains from trade but also suffers the costs of adjusting its economy to the new situation.

Trade expectations theory introduces a new causal variable, the expectations of future trade, examining its impact on the overall expected value of the trading option if a state decides to forgo war. This supplements the static consideration in liberalism and realism of the levels of interdependence at any point in time, with the importance of leaders’ dynamic expectations into the future.

Levels of interdependence and expectations of future trade, considered simultaneously, lead to new predictions. Interdependence can foster peace, as liberals argue, but this will only be so when states expect that trade levels will be high into the foreseeable future. If highly interdependent states expect that trade will be severely restricted – that is, if their expectations for future trade are low – realists are likely to be right: the most highly dependent states will be the ones most likely to initiate war, for fear of losing the economic wealth that supports their long-term security. In short, high interdependence can be either peace-inducing or war-inducing, depending on the expectations of future trade.

This dynamic perspective helps bridge the gaps within and between current approaches. Separating levels of interdependence from expectations of future trade indicates that states may be pushed into war even if current trade levels are high, if leaders have good reason to suspect that others will cut them off in the future. In such a situation, the expected value of trade will likely be negative, and hence the value of continued peace is also negative, making war an attractive alternative. This insight helps resolve the liberal problem with World War I: despite high trade levels in 1913-14, declining expectations for future trade pushed German leaders to attack, to ensure long-term access to markets and raw materials.

Even when current trade is low or non-existent, positive expectations for future trade will produce a positive expected value for trade, and therefore an incentive for continued peace. This helps explain the two main periods of detente between the Cold War superpowers, from 1971 to 1973 and in the late 1980s: positive signs from U.S. leaders that trade would soon be significantly increased coaxed the Soviets into a more cooperative relationship, reducing the probability of war. But in situations of low trade where there is no prospect that high trade levels will be restored in the future, highly dependent states may be pushed into conflict. This was the German and Japanese dilemma before World War II.

The article is divided into three sections. The first section reviews liberal and realist theories on the relationship between economic interdependence and the probability of war, and provides a critique of both theories. The second section lays out trade expectations theory. The final section examines the diplomatic historical evidence for the new theory against two significant cases: Germany before World War I and Germany before World War II. The evidence indicates that the new variable, expectations of future trade, helps resolve the anomalies for current theories: in both cases, negative expectations for future trade, combined with high dependence, led leaders into total war out of fear for their long-term economic position and therefore security.

The Liberal and Realist Debate on Economic Interdependence and War

The core liberal position is straightforward.(2) Trade provides valuable benefits, or “gains from trade,” to any particular state. A dependent state should therefore seek to avoid war, since peaceful trading gives it all the benefits of close ties without any of the costs and risks of war. Trade pays more than war, so dependent states should prefer to trade not invade. This argument is often supported by the auxiliary proposition that modern technology greatly increases the costs and risks of aggression, making the trading option even more rational.

The argument was first made popular in the 1850s by Richard Cobden, who asserted that free trade “unites” states, “making each equally anxious for the prosperity and happiness of both.”(3) This view was restated in The Great Illusion by Norman Angell just prior to World War I and again in 1933. Angell saw states having to choose between new ways of thinking, namely peaceful trade, and the “old method” of power politics. Even if war was once profitable, modernization now makes it impossible to “enrich” oneself through force; indeed, by destroying trading bonds, war is “commercially suicidal.”(4)

Why do wars nevertheless occur? While the start of World War I just after The Great Illusion’s initial publication might seem to refute his thesis, Angell in the 1933 edition argued that the debacle simply confirmed the unprofitability of modern wars. He thus upheld the common liberal view that wars, especially major wars, result from the misperceptions of leaders caught up in the outmoded belief that war still pays. Accordingly, his is “not a plea for the impossibility of war . . . but for its futility,” since “our ignorance on this matter makes war not only possible, but extremely likely.”(5) In short, if leaders fail to see how unprofitable war is compared to the benefits of trade, they may still erroneously choose the former.

Richard Rosecrance provides the most extensive update of the Cobden-Angell thesis to the nuclear era. States must choose between being “trading states,” concerned with promoting wealth through commerce, and “territorial states,” obsessed with military expansion. Modern conditions push states towards a predominantly trading mode: wars are not only too costly; but with the peaceful trading option, “the benefits that one nation gains from trade can also be realized by others.” When the system is highly interdependent, therefore, the “incentive to wage war is absent,” since “trading states recognize that they can do better through internal economic development sustained by a worldwide market for their goods and services than by trying to conquer and assimilate large tracts of land.”(6) Rosecrance thus neatly summarizes the liberal view that high interdependence fosters peace by making trading more profitable than invading.(7)

Realists turn the liberal argument on its head, arguing that economic interdependence not only fails to promote peace, but in fact heightens the likelihood of war.(8) States concerned about security will dislike dependence, since it means that crucial imported goods could be cut off during a crisis. This problem is particularly acute for imports like oil and raw materials; while they may be only a small percentage of the total import bill, without them most modern economies would collapse. Consequently, states dependent on others for vital goods have an increased incentive to go to war to assure themselves of continued access of supply.

Neorealist Kenneth Waltz puts the argument as follows: actors within a domestic polity have little reason to fear the dependence that goes with specialization. The anarchic structure of international politics, however, makes states worry about their vulnerability, thus compelling them “to control what they depend on or to lessen the extent of their dependency.” For Waltz, it is this “simple thought” that explains, among other things, “their imperial thrusts to widen the scope of their control.”(9) For John Mearsheimer, nations that “depend on others for critical economic supplies will fear cutoff or blackmail in time of crisis or war.” Consequently, “they may try to extend political control to the source of supply, giving rise to conflict with the source or with its other customers.” Interdependence, therefore, “will probably lead to greater security competition.”(10)

This modern realist understanding of economic interdependence and war finds its roots in mercantilist writings dating from the seventeenth century. Mercantilists saw states as locked in a competition for relative power and for the wealth that underpins that power.(11) For mercantilists, imperial expansion – the acquisition of colonies – is driven by the state’s need to secure greater control over sources of supply and markets for its goods, and to build relative power in the process. By allowing the metropole and the colonies to specialize in production and trade of complementary products (particularly manufactured goods for raw materials), while ensuring political control over the process, colonies “opened up the possibility of providing a system of supply within a self-contained empire.”(12)

In this, we see the underpinning for the neorealist view that interdependence leads to war. Mercantilist imperialism represents a reaction to a state’s dependence; states reduce their fears of external specialization by increasing internal specialization within a now larger political realm. The imperial state as it expands thus acquires more and more of the characteristics of Waltz’s domestic polity, with its hierarchy of specialized functions secure from the unpredictable policies of others.

In sum, realists seek to emphasize one main point: political concerns driven by anarchy must be injected into the liberal calculus. Since states must be primarily concerned with security and therefore with control over resources and markets, one must discount the liberal optimism that great trading partners will always continue to be great trading partners simply because both states benefit absolutely. Accordingly, a state vulnerable to another’s policies because of dependence will tend to use force to overcome that vulnerability.

 

A Comparison Of The Liberal And Realist Perspectives

While the liberal and the realist arguments display critical differences, they possess one important similarity: the causal logic of both perspectives is founded on an individual state’s decision-making process. That is, while the two camps freely use the term “interdependence,” both derive predictions from how particular decision-making units – states – deal with their own specific dependence. This allows both theories to handle situations of “asymmetric interdependence,” where one state in a dyad is more dependent than the other. Their predictions are internally consistent, but opposed: liberals argue that the more dependent state is less likely to initiate conflict, since it has more to lose from breaking economic ties;(13) realists maintain that this state is more likely to initiate conflict, to escape its vulnerability.

The main difference between liberals and realists has to do with their emphasis on the benefits versus the costs of interdependence. The realist argument highlights an aspect that is severely downplayed in the liberal argument, namely, consideration of the potential costs from the severing of a trading relationship. Most liberals, if pressed, would probably accept David Baldwin’s conceptualization of dependence as the opportunity costs a state would experience should trade end. Yet Baldwin’s opportunity costs are only the loss of the benefits from trade received after a state moves from autarchy.(14) It is this understanding of opportunity costs that is followed in the most comprehensive liberal argument for interdependence and peace, that of Rosecrance. There is little sense in Rosecrance’s work that a state’s decision to specialize and thus to restructure its economy radically can entail huge “costs of adjustment” should trade be later severed, nor that such costs can actually put the state in a far worse position than if it had never moved from autarchy in the first place.(15) This is the concern of realists when they talk about dependence on “vital goods” such as oil. A state that chooses not to buy oil from outsiders forgoes certain benefits of trade, but by operating on domestic energy sources, it avoids the heavy penalty experienced by a state that does base its industrial structure on imported oil, only to find itself cut off from supplies.

That Rosecrance minimizes this realist concern is evident. In an explicit effort to refute Waltz’s definition of interdependence as “a trading link which ‘is costly to break’,” Rosecrance contends that “to measure interdependence in this way misses the essence of the concept.” His subsequent discussion emphasizes only the benefits that states give up if they choose not to trade (his “opportunity costs”), and makes no mention of any potentially severe costs of adjustment. In fact, he argues that dependence on such things as foreign sources of energy is really no different than relying on outsiders for “fashions” or different makes of cars; if trade is cut off, a state loses only “consumer choice.” Recognition that the whole industrial structure of a state might be undermined or destroyed by an adversary’s severing of vital trade is absent.(16)

Rosecrance is reluctant to acknowledge realist concerns, perhaps because to do so would imply that dependent states might be more willing to go to war, as realists maintain, while Rosecrance is arguing that they are less willing to do so.(17) This points to a critical distinction between liberalism and realism that illuminates the liberal understanding of why wars ultimately occur. For liberals, interdependence does not have a downside that might push states into war, as realists contend. Rather, interdependence is seen to operate as a restraint on aggressive tendencies arising from the domestic or individual levels. If interdependence becomes low, this restraint is taken away; allowing the aggressive tendencies to dominate. To borrow a metaphor from Plato: for liberals, interdependence operates like the reins on the dark horse of inner passions; it provides a material incentive to stay at peace, even when there are internal predispositions towards aggression. Remove the reins, however, and these passions are free to roam as they will.(18)

This point becomes clearer as one examines Rosecrance’s explanations for the two World Wars. World War II, for Rosecrance, was ultimately domestically driven. The main aggressors saw war as a means to cope with the upheavals flowing from “social discontent and chaos” and the “danger of left-wing revolutions”; given these upheavals, it is “not surprising that the territorial and military-political system [i.e., war] emerged as an acceptable alternative to more than one state.” Connecting the Second World War to causes arising from the unit level in the First World War, he continues: “If Germany, Italy, and Japan did not fulfill their territorial ambitions at the end of World War I, they might develop even more nationalistic and solidaristic regimes and try again.”(19) With trade and therefore interdependence at low levels in the 1930s, “economics offered no alternative possibility”; it failed to provide what he later refers to as a “mitigat[ing]” or “restraining” influence on unit-level motives for war.(20)

World War I is a problematic case for Rosecrance, as it was for Angell, since the great powers went to war even though trade levels were still high. Like Angell, Rosecrance’s main defense of liberalism is that leaders simply did not see how beneficial interdependence was, and how costly war would be. Due to outmoded ideas and unit-level pathologies, they misperceived the situation; hence, interdependence could not operate as it should, as a restraint on aggression. He talks about leaders’ obsession with “nationalist ambitions” and “balance of power politics.” He suggests that “no pre-1914 statesman or financier was fully aware of the damage that war would do to the European body economic” because of the irrational belief that “[war] would be over very quickly.”(21) At one point, he even seems to cast doubt on the efficacy of interdependence as a restraint on aggression:

One should not place too much emphasis upon the existence of interdependence per se. European nations in 1913 relied upon the trade and investment that flowed between them; that did not prevent the political crisis which led to . . . World War I. Interdependence only constrains national policy if leaders accept and agree to work within its limits.(22)

It thus appears that Rosecrance cannot really envision interdependence as being anything but a “constraint” or “restraint” on unit-level tendencies to aggress. This view is consistent with the general liberal perspective that all wars are ultimately driven by unit-level phenomena such as misperceptions, authoritarianism, ideology, and internal social conflict. Rosecrance’s historical understanding of the World War II, for example, would fit nicely with the “democratic peace” literature: had all the states in 1939 been democratic, war would probably not have occurred despite the disrupted global economic situation, but since some states were not democratic, their aggressive domestic forces became unfettered once interdependence had declined. The idea that economic factors by themselves can push states to aggress – an argument consistent with neorealism and the alternative theory I will present below – is outside the realm of liberal thought, since it would imply that purely systemic forces can be responsible for war, largely regardless of unit-level phenomena.(23)

While liberal theory certainly downplays the realist concern for the potential costs of severed trade, it is also clear that realists slight the positive role the benefits of trade can have on a state’s choice between peace and war. In the next section, I bring together the liberal emphasis on benefits with the realist emphasis on costs to create a framework for understanding the true level of dependence a state faces. This section also seeks to correct the most significant error in both liberal and realist theories, namely; their lack of theoretical attention to the dynamics of state expectations for the future.

 

Trade or Invade? A Theory of Trade Expectations

This section introduces the theory of trade expectations. This theory extends liberal and realist views regarding interdependence and war, by synthesizing their strengths while formulating a dynamic perspective on state decision-making that is at best only implicit in current approaches. The strength of liberalism lies in its consideration of how the benefits or gains from trade give states a material incentive to avoid war, even when they have unit-level predispositions to favor it. The strength of realism is its recognition that states may be vulnerable to the potential costs of being cut off from trade on which they depend for wealth and ultimately security. Current theories, however, lack a way to fuse the benefits of trade and the costs of severed trade into one theoretical framework.

More significantly, these theories lack an understanding of how rational decision-makers incorporate the future trading environment into their choice between peace and war. Both liberalism and realism often refer to the future trading environment, particularly in empirical analyses. But in constructing a theoretical logic, the two camps consider the future only within their own ideological presuppositions. Liberals, assuming that states seek to maximize absolute welfare, maintain that situations of high trade should continue into the foreseeable future as long as states are rational; such actors have no reason to forsake the benefits from trade, especially if defection from the trading arrangement will only lead to retaliation.(24) Given this presupposition, liberals can argue that interdependence – as reflected in high trade at any particular moment in time – will foster peace, given the benefits of trade over war. Realists, assuming states seek to maximize security; argue that concerns for relative power and autonomy will eventually push some states to sever trade ties (at least in the absence of a hegemon). Hence, realists can insist that interdependence, again manifest as high trade at any moment in time, drives dependent states to initiate war now to escape potential vulnerability later.

For the purposes of forging strong theories, however, trading patterns cannot be simply assumed a priori to match the stipulations of either liberalism or of realism. Trade levels fluctuate significantly over time, both for the system as a whole and particularly between specific trading partners, as the last two centuries demonstrate. Accordingly, we need a theory that incorporates how a state’s expectations of its trading environment – either optimistic or pessimistic – affect its decision-calculus for war or peace. This is where the new theory makes its most significant departure. Liberalism and realism are theories of “comparative statics,” drawing predictions from a snapshot of the level of interdependence at a single point in time. The new theory, on the other hand, is dynamic in its internal structure: it provides a new variable, the “expectations of future trade,” that incorporates in the theoretical logic an actor’s sense of the future trends and possibilities.(25) This variable is essential to any leader’s determination not just of the immediate value of peace versus war at a particular moment in time, but of the overall expected value of peace and war over the foreseeable future.

From consideration of the expectations-of-future-trade variable along with a state’s level of dependence, one can derive a consistent deductive theory of state decision-making showing the conditions under which high interdependence will lead to peace or to war. High interdependence can be peace-inducing, as liberals maintain, as long as states expect future trade levels to be high in the future: positive expectations for future trade will lead dependent states to assign a high expected value to a continuation of peaceful trade, making war the less appealing option. If, however, a highly dependent state expects future trade to be low due to the policy decisions of the other side, then realists are likely to be correct: the state will attach a low or even negative expected value to continued peace without trade, making war an attractive alternative if its expected value is greater than peace. Moreover, since a negative expected value of trade implies a long-term decline in power, even if war is not profitable per se, it may be chosen as the lesser of two evils.(26)

The deductive logic of the alternative theory, as with liberalism and realism, centers on an individual state’s efforts to manage its own situation of dependence. Consider a two-actor scenario, where one state “A” may trade with another state “B.” If state A moves away from the initial position of autarchy to begin trading, and trade is free and open, it will expect to receive the benefits of trade stressed by liberals, namely, the incremental increase in A’s total welfare due to trade.(27) Note that a state can still be aware of the “benefits of trade” even if present trade is non-existent, since they represent the potential gains from trade that would accrue to the state should trade levels become high in the future.(28) It is a state’s ability to foresee future potential benefits that allows it to attach a high expected value to the peaceful trading option even when current trade levels are low (as long as it expects current restrictions to be relaxed).

When a state trades, it specializes in and exports goods in which it enjoys a comparative advantage, while forgoing the production of other goods, which it then imports. This process of specialization, however, entails potentially large costs of adjustment if trade is subsequently cut off. This is especially so in the modern world if the state becomes dependent on foreign oil and certain raw materials. With the economy’s capital infrastructure (machines, factories, transportation systems, etc.) geared to function only with such vital goods, a severing of trade would impose huge costs as the economy struggles to cope with the new no-trade situation.(29) In short, the severing of trade, as realists would argue, would put the state in a situation far worse than if it had never specialized in the first place.

This analysis leads to a clearer understanding of any particular state’s total level of “dependence.” On a bilateral basis, that level is represented by the sum of the benefits that the state would receive from free and open trade with another state (versus autarchy), and the costs to the state of being cut off from that trade after having specialized (versus autarchy). If state A started with an economy of 100 units of GNP before any trade with B (the autarchic position), and open trade with B would mean economic expansion to a level of 110 units of GNP on an ongoing basis, then the “benefits of trade” could be considered as 10 units. If the specialization that trade entails, however, would mean the economy would fall to 85 units should B sever trade ties, then the “costs of severed trade” would be 15 units versus autarchy. State A’s total dependence level would thus be the benefits of trade plus the costs of severed trade after specialization, or 25 units.

The dependence level will itself be a function of such parameters as the overall compatibilities of the two economies for trade, the degree of A’s need for vital goods such as oil and raw materials, and the availability of alternative suppliers and markets. Thus if A’s need for trade with B is great because the economies are highly compatible (say, in terms of mutual comparative advantages), B has valuable natural resources that A lacks, and A has few other countries to turn to, then A’s dependence can be considered high.(30)

In deciding between peace and war, however, a state can not refer simply to its dependence level. Rather, it must determine the overall expected value of trade and therefore the value of continued peace into the foreseeable future. The benefits of trade and the costs of severed trade on their own say nothing about this expected value. Dynamic expectations of future trade must be brought in. If the state has positive expectations that the other will maintain free and open trade over the long term, then the expected value of trade will be close to the value of the benefits of trade. On the other hand, if the state, after having specialized, comes to expect that trade will be severed by the trading partner, then the expected value of trade may be highly negative, that is, close to the value of the costs of severed trade. In essence, the expected value of trade may be anywhere between the two extremes, depending on a state’s estimate of the expected probability of securing open trade, or of being cut off.(31)

This leads to a crucial hypothesis. For any given expected value of war, we can predict that the lower the expectations of future trade, the lower the expected value of trade, and therefore the more likely it is that war will be chosen.

It is important to note that the expected value of trade will not be based on the level of trade at a particular moment in time, but upon the stream of expected trade levels into the future. It really does not matter that trade is high today: if state A knows that B will cut all trade tomorrow and shows no signs of being willing to restore it later, the expected value of trade would be negative. Similarly; it does not matter if there is little or no trade at present: if state A is confident that B is committed to freer trade in the future, the expected value of trade would be positive.

The fact that the expected value of trade can be negative even if present trade is high, due to low expectations for future trade, goes a long way towards resolving such manifest anomalies for liberal theory as German aggression in World War I. Despite high levels of trade up to 1914, German leaders had good reason to believe that the other great powers would undermine this trade into the future; hence, a war to secure control over raw materials and markets was required for the long-term security of the German nation. Since the expected value of trade can be positive even though present trade is low, due to high expectations for future trade, we can also understand such phenomena as the periods of detente in U.S.-Soviet relations during the Cold War (1971-73 and after 1985). While East-West trade was still relatively low during these times, the Soviet need for Western technology, combined with a growing belief that large increases in trade with the West would be forthcoming, gave the Soviets a high enough expected value of trade to convince them to be more accommodating in superpower relations.(32)

In making the final decision between peace and war, however, a rational state will have to compare the expected value of trade to the expected value of going to war with the other state.

The expected value of war, as a realist would emphasize, cannot be ascertained without considering the relative power balance. As one state moves from a position of relative inferiority in economic and military power to relative superiority, the expected value of war will move from negative to positive or even highly positive. This proposition follows directly from the insights of deterrence theory: the larger the state in relative size, the higher the probability of winning a victory, while the lower the costs of fighting the war.(33) Hence, if victory entails occupying the other state and absorbing its economy, war can take on a very positive expected value when a large power attacks a small state.(34) For example, if Iraq had been allowed to hold on to Kuwait after its August 1990 invasion, war for Iraq would certainly have “paid.” Similarly, Czechoslovakia was an easy and attractive target for Germany by 1938-39, as were the other smaller states of Europe, and evidence suggests that war against these nations was indeed profitable for the Nazis.(35) On the other hand, war between more equal great powers is likely to have a much lower or even negative expected value. The Spartan leadership took Sparta into war against Athens in 431 BC, for example, under no illusions that war would be a profitable venture.(36) While the Athenian economy presented a large prize should victory be attained, war with a near-equal adversary could be expected to be very costly, with a low likelihood of victory.

Where we would anticipate a low or negative expected value to the option of war, the expectations-of-future-trade variable should have a determinant effect on the likelihood of war. If state A has positive expectations for future trade with B, and A and B are roughly equal in relative power, then state A will assign a high expected value to continued peaceful trade, will compare this to the low or negative expected value for invasion, and will choose peace as the rational strategy. The higher A’s dependence and the higher the expectations for future trade, the higher the expected value for peaceful trade, and therefore the more likely A is to avoid war. But if state A is dependent and has negative expectations for future trade with B, then the expected value of trade will be very low or negative. If the expected value for trade is lower than the expected value for invasion, war becomes the rational choice, and this is so even when the expected value of invasion is itself negative: war becomes the lesser of two evils.(37)

Until now, I have talked about state A’s “expectations of future trade” as though they were an essentially exogenous, that is, as though state B, in its willingness to trade with A, were not affected by A’s behavior If, however, state A, by making political, military or economic concessions, can induce B to relax trading restrictions, then A’s low expectations for future trade may be raised.

This suggests that the effects of diplomacy and bargaining need to be integrated into any extended historical analysis.(38) The probability of B trading with A is never completely independent of A’s actions, since there is always some concession that A could make to get B to commit to higher trade levels over the long term. But the problem for A is that B’s price for high trade may be unacceptable in that it undermines A’s internal stability or its external power position. To take an extreme example, if B were to demand, as the price for higher trade, that A unilaterally disarm and allow B to occupy A with its army, it is hard to imagine A accepting such a deal. If B remains unwilling to budge from such an exorbitant demand, then it is fair to say that A’s pessimistic expectation for future trade is exogenous; there is little A can do, short of national suicide, to improve the likelihood of trade.

Thus state A, in estimating B’s probability of trading with A, will refer to many indicators suggesting how “reasonable” B will be into the future, that is, how willing B will be to trade, and at what price. One may think of these indicators simply as causal factors affecting the variable “expectations of future trade.” Such systemic factors as B’s economic competitiveness, B’s rate of depletion of raw materials and energy reserves (affecting its future export ability), and military pressures constraining B’s trade with A will be important. German leaders before World War I, for example, had good reason to believe that Britain would be forced to move to imperial preference to protect its empire from the German economic challenge and to lend support to its entente partners. Japanese leaders in the late 1930s recognized that the United States would have to cut back on oil and iron exports to Japan as U.S. reserves were depleted or needed to supply a military buildup (even one directed only at Germany). Such systemic pressures on B to reduce trade with A will foster negative expectations of future trade among A’s leaders.

But domestic and personal factors can also play a significant role in the exogenous rise or decline in B’s likelihood of trading with A, indicating that the assumption that B is a “unitary actor” must be relaxed to some degree when examining history.(39) In 1972, for example, the Soviets saw Nixon and Kissinger as firmly in control of American policy, and therefore able to carry through on commitments to increase East-West trade. Two years later, however, such a positive expectation for future trade could not be sustained in the wake of Watergate and the reassertion of Congressional power, at least at a price which was reasonable to the Soviets. This had much to do with the failure of detente, as I argue elsewhere.(40)

A comparison of the arguments of trade expectations theory with those of liberal and realist theory is presented in Table 1. To summarize: liberals contend that high economic dependence, as manifest in high trade levels, reduces a state’s likelihood of initiating war by providing a material “constraint” on unit-level forces for aggression. Low dependence will increase this likelihood, since this constraint on unit-level motives for war is removed. Realists argue that high dependence heightens the probability of war as dependent states struggle to reduce their vulnerability. In the realist world, however, low dependence should have no impact on the likelihood of war or peace; that is, other factors should become causally determinant of war. Still, since economic interdependence is at least eliminated as a possible source of conflict, realists would predict that the overall likelihood of war should fall when mutual dependence is low.

In other words, both liberals and realists believe that a situation of low dependence eliminates “dependence” as a causal variable. But since liberals argue that unit-level forces are always ready to be let loose (in the absence of a community of democratic nations), the termination of high dependence takes away the previous restraint on such forces, and therefore the probability of war rises dramatically. For realists, the causes of war come from systemic factors, including a state’s dependence (as well as relative power, etc.); therefore, since high dependence will tend to push a state into war, the absence of dependence gives the state one less systemic reason to aggress.

The new theory departs from the two other approaches by incorporating both the level of dependence and the dynamic expectations of future trade. It is somewhat consistent with realism in that low dependence implies little impact on the prospects for peace or war: if there are few benefits from trade and few costs if trade is cut off, then trade does not matter much in the state’s decision to go to war. As with realism, however, the elimination of a factor that might otherwise push a state into war suggests that the probability of war should be less when dependence is low.(41)

When dependence is high, peace will be promoted only when the state has positive expectations of future trade. Here, the liberal logic applies, whereby the positive benefits of trade give the dependent state the incentive not to disrupt a profitable peace. If, however, expectations of future trade fall, then realist concerns about the downside of interdependence – the costs of being cut off – enter in, dramatically increasing the likelihood that the dependent state will initiate war. Importantly, the decision for war does not hinge on what the present trade levels are; rather, it is leaders’ expectations for the future that drive whether the expected value of trade is positive and peace-inducing or negative and war-inducing.

 

Historical Evidence

This section explores how expectations of future trade affected the decisions for war in two cases: Germany and World War I, and Germany and World War II.(42) These cases were chosen for two reasons. First, total wars between great powers minimize the problem of overdetermination that occurs when cases of great powers attacking small powers are included.(43) Second, since Germany lost these wars, internal documents are available to reveal the decision-making processes of aggressing states. If we want to go beyond correlation to causation, we must test the causal mechanism linking variables; that is, we have to see if leaders took their nations into war for the reasons hypothesized.(44) Exploring internal decision-making in some detail, I show how trade expectations theory helps solve the empirical puzzles for liberalism and realism.

 

Germany And The Outbreak Of World War I

Germany had been one of the few great powers trying to buck the trend towards protectionism in the early and mid-1890s. Recognizing that German industrial products could now match the goods of any state, Chancellor Caprivi set in place policies to expand German trade in Europe and overseas. Other great powers, however, indicated their opposition to any German penetration pacifique. Severe tariffs from the United States (McKinley tariff, 1890) and France (Meline tariff, 1892) were certainly worrisome. Even that bastion of free trade – Britain – indicated after 1895 that its fear of rising German commercial strength would soon lead to a reversal of policy. In 1896, the British had raided the Transvaal region of South Africa, jeopardizing German commercial interests. In mid-1897, Canada slapped a discriminatory tariff on non-British goods, contrary to the 1865 Most Favored Nation treaty between Germany and the British empire. Despite Germany’s protest, the British, far from making amends, upheld the Canadian decision and then renounced the 1865 treaty in July 1897. Soon after this Joseph Chamberlain opened talks with British colonies on the possible formation a general imperial preference system.(45)

German expectations for future trade reflected these developments. On July 31, 1897, the Prussian minister in Munich informed Chancellor von Hohenlohe that public opinion saw the British “denunciation” of the 1865 treaty as “the prelude to a close trade relationship of England with her colonies.” The kaiser’s marginal comments indicated his agreement that “the denunciation is the beginning of a revolution in the whole system of British commercial policy.” For the kaiser, any suggestion that the target of British action was the United States was “nonsense”; clearly “it is against Germany.” He continued, “now that the superiority of German industry is recognized, [the British] will soon make efforts to destroy it.”(46)

The “main worry” of German leaders during the late 1890s, as Fritz Fischer recounts, “remained . . . the extreme protectionist tariffs of the United States and the plans for a British customs association.”(47) The German naval buildup after 1898 was partly designed to protect German trade, particularly imports of raw materials and food. Cecil notes that there was widespread recognition in Germany that with its fast growing population, Germany “could no longer subsist on native-grown foodstuffs” and that a strong navy was needed as “a necessary bulwark against starvation.”(48)

German leaders had good reason to worry about the dependability of outside suppliers. In the decade and a half before the war, dependence on trade for vital goods increased dramatically, driven by phenomenal growth in both population and industrial size. Domestic oil production, for example, had gone up 140 percent from 1900 to 1913, but still accounted for only ten percent of total German oil needs. The state went from being a net exporter of iron ore as late as 1897 to relying on outsiders for close to 30 percent of its needs by 1913, despite domestic production increases of 120 percent. By 1913, over 57 percent of Germany’s imports were in the form of raw materials, versus 44 percent in 1903 and 41 percent in 1893. All this was occurring at a time when Germany’s ratio of trade to GNP was rising to new heights: from 32 percent in 1900, to 36 percent in 1910, to almost 40 percent in 1913.(49)

Of great concern as well were the growing French, Russian, and British efforts to obstruct German commerce. After 1897, Britain and the United States worked in tandem to preclude German colonial gains: despite Germany’s efforts, for example, it received nothing from the dissolution of the Spanish empire. In both Moroccan crises, 1905 and 1911, Britain helped France thwart greater German economic penetration of Africa. In fact, from 1898 to 1913, the colonial territory Germany had been permitted to acquire was only one-seventh that acquired by the United States, a state less often thought of as “imperialist.”(50)

In the Middle East, the British worked actively to minimize German economic penetration. In 1907, they agreed with Russia to divide Persia into spheres of influence as part of a campaign to restrict any extension of German power via the proposed Berlin-Baghdad Railway. The Russian ambassador reported to Moscow in August 1910, “England is less interested in what happens in Persia than in preventing any other Power, except England and Russia, from playing any role there. This applies particularly to Germany and Turkey.”(51) Just before the war, England worked out a tacit deal with the Americans, giving them a sphere of influence over Latin American oil, in return for British domination of the Middle Eastern oil reserves.(52) By these means, the Germans were effectively denied control over oil imports at a time when only 10 percent of Germany’s growing oil requirements was supplied by internal production.

Two other areas concerned the Germans: raw materials and food. With Germany becoming a net importer of iron ore after 1897, French ore became increasingly important: German ore imports from France had increased almost sixty-fold from 1900 to 1913 as Sweden, Germany’s main supplier, moved to establish export quotas. German industry invested heavily in the mines of Northern France, and by 1913, directly controlled about 10 to 15 percent of French ore reserves.(53)

The French government took steps to stop this economic penetration, delaying further concessions to German companies in early 1912 and then halting them altogether in December 1913. This came at a time when German capital in general was being shut out of both the French and Russian markets. It is not surprising, therefore, that German industrialists in 1913 would openly speak to the Italian Minister of Commerce “of the need to lay their hands on the iron ore basin of French Lorraine; war seemed to them a matter for industry.”(54)

Expectations for the critical food trade were also deteriorating in the last years before the war. Imports of foodstuffs from 1890 to 1913 grew at an average of 4.8 percent a year, well above the overall economic growth rate of 3.9 percent. The Anglo-German naval arms race reflected fears on each side that the other might blockade imports to starve the adversary into submission. British plans for such a blockade were well-advanced in the last decade before the war, and “[the] threat to Germany was a real one.”(55)

Thus German leaders after 1897 were increasingly worried about great power economic as well as military encirclement. Their declining expectations of future trade on the eve of World War I are revealed by the extensive documentary work of Fischer.(56) His evidence shows a clear relation between initial German war aims and the increasing economic anxieties of a diverse group of individuals before July 1914. The shared fear was that German industry, increasingly dependent on outsiders for vital goods, would be strangled by the growing economic restrictions imposed by adversaries. Since these powers had extensive imperial possessions, they could afford to adopt closed economic policies; Germany lacked such an alternative. As neomercantilist Gustav Schmoller in 1900 put it, the Russian, British, and American world empires, “with their greed for land, their power at sea and on land, their trade,” want to put all others “into an economic straitjacket and to smother them.”(57)

By 1911, after the failures of the second Moroccan crisis and “in response to the protectionist trends in the United States, Britain, and Russia,” Germany “turned again to the idea of a central European economic area as a defensive measure.”(58) Concern for economic security was tangible, transcending ideological and party lines. Future chancellor and National Liberal Stresemann stated in early 1913 that Germany must seek to “create a self-sufficient economic area, so as to make sure of our raw material requirements and to protect our exports.” Basserman of the Centre Party in mid-1912 stated that “our trade declines more and more in certain places where we are pushed out or where it keeps its end up only with difficulties.” Even the Social Democrat Hildebrand would write in 1911, “from a socialist standpoint the acquisition of colonial domains has become an acute economic necessity for Germany.” Indeed, Fischer shows that after 1906 the Social Democratic party moved from opposition to acceptance of German colonial expansion.(59)

These views paralleled those within the government. Walter Rathenau, who was the influential head of the department of military raw materials in the War Ministry in August 1914, was arguing by December 1913 that Germany’s raw material base was too “narrow,” and that it depended on “the mercy of the world market as long as [Germany] did not itself possess sufficient raw material sources.” In April 1914, Albert Ballin noted that the “expansion of our foreign markets is increasingly threatened,” and in the oil-rich Near East in particular, “we have been thrown out of the most important regions there.”(60)

The declining expectations of future trade contributed to the pervasive sense of general decline felt by the German leadership in July 1914. Extensive evidence shows that German leaders brought on world war for “preventive” motives, namely to forestall the rise of powers such as Russia.(61) Economic factors reinforced these motives. If France and Russia could be defeated, valuable areas in Europe would be incorporated under German tutelage, guaranteeing the raw materials and markets needed for future German economic power and therefore security; without major war, the economic policies of German adversaries would push Germany further into decline over the long term.

These aims were revealed in the so-called “September Program,” which was finalized by Chancellor Bethmann Hollweg on September 9. The plan stated that the “general aim of the war” was “security for the German Reich in west and east for all imaginable time.” Russia “must be thrust back as far as possible,” while France would become “economically dependent on Germany, secur[ing] the French market for our exports.” France’s “ore-field of Briey, which is necessary for the supply of ore for our industry, [would] be ceded,” and a “central European economic association,” including central Europe, France, Poland, and “perhaps Italy, Sweden, and Norway,” would be formed. And while members would be “formally equal,” “in practice [the association! will be under German leadership and must stabilize Germany's economic dominance over Mitteleuropa."(62)

This blunt programme for German economic hegemony in Europe was clearly consistent with the pre-war call for a Mitteleuropa, and it reflected the work of Bethmann and his associates through the months of July and August 1914. Rathenau, now in charge of raw materials for the Reich, was particularly influential. On August 1, 1914, he submitted to Bethmann a long memorandum arguing that "only a Germany reinforced by 'Mitteleuropa' would be in a position to maintain herself as an equal world power between the world powers of Britain and the United States on the one side and Russia on the other," and war, if necessary, would help to achieve this "essential objective."(63) The date shows that the report must have been prepared during the height of the July crisis, demonstrating that the September program reflected pre-war objectives, rather than a post-hoc scramble to justify the reality of war.

Of particular concern were German iron ore interests in France. On August 26, Bethmann sought information on the size of the ore deposits in French Lorraine, and soon after agreed to consider annexation of French mines "in a final peace treaty." Aware of pre-war French discrimination against German companies, in the September Program he wrote that any commercial treaty with a defeated France "must secure for us financial and industrial freedom of movement in France in such a fashion that German enterprises can no longer receive different treatment from [the] French.”(64) Russian pre-war trade restrictions were also to be torn down. Bethmann noted in an October 22, 1914, memo to Delbruck, secretary of state in the Reich Interior Office, that after the war Russia “would have imposed on it a long-term commercial treaty which would mean a lowering of Russian industrial tariffs.”(65)

It is important to note the widespread agreement during the September-October period that despite likely opposition from industrial and agricultural interests, Germany needed to create a free-trade zone within Europe after victory in order to compete against the remaining world powers. In a September 13 memo to Bethmann, Delbruck argued that “only a Europe without customs barriers [controlled by Germany] can effectively face the vast producing potential of the transatlantic world.”(66) In October, von Falkenhausen, counsellor at the Prussian Ministry of Agriculture, wrote that economic hegemony in Europe was needed to “match the great, closed bodies of the United States, the British, and the Russian Empires,” in order to compete “over the conditions of the admission of each to the markets of the others.”(67) Also in October, an adviser to Delbruck, Schoenebeck, argued that the “final great aim” in the war was “to create a great central European economic area which allows us to maintain our place in the economic struggle of the nations and prevents us from declining into economic impotence in the face of the increasingly closed and assertive economic world empires – Great Britain with its colonies, the United States, Russia, Japan and China.”(68)

Thus increasingly pessimistic German trade expectations had much to do with the German willingness to bring on a major war in July 1914. With Britain shutting Germany out of the oil-rich Middle East and resource-rich Africa, with France threatening Germany’s access to iron ore, and with high French and Russian tariff levels limiting German economic growth versus “economic empires” like Britain and the United States, German leaders felt that only a major war would provide the economic dominance of Europe needed for long-term German survival.

 

Germany And The Start Of World War Ii

There is great continuity between German decision-making up to World War I and up to World War II in terms of the causal role of economic factors.(69) This derives from one overriding fact: Germany in the 1930s, as before World War I, was a state capable of great military power, but its small territory possessed few natural resources compared with the great powers surrounding it. In consequence, Germany would always remain highly dependent on outsiders for the food and raw materials vital to its economic health, unless it expanded. Moreover, since the surrounding great powers were better able to fashion self-sustaining imperial realms, should they ever move in this direction by closing their borders to trade – as they began to do in the early 1930s – long-term German economic viability and therefore security would be threatened. These two realities implied that Germany’s potential military superiority might have to be used, as in World War I, to generate the territorial mass needed for survival against what in 1914 were referred to as the “economic world empires.”

The strategic obsessions of Adolf Hitler and the Nazi regime revolved around this dilemma which the first World War had failed to solve. In Mein Kampf, Hitler foresaw that, because Germany’s small size constrained its “living space” (Lebensraum), its dependence on foreign states for food would only increase as the population grew faster than the yields on arable land.(70) By the mid-1930s, his anxiety shifted somewhat: Germany’s problem was not simply the supply of food, but even more seriously, the supply of raw materials needed for industrial strength. This dual problem could be overcome by one strategy: war against the system, with the acquisition of Russian land west of the Urals as the prime territorial objective. By destroying Russia, in one stroke Germany could acquire the land needed for vital food and raw materials, while preventing the rise of the state most likely to overwhelm Germany in the future.(71)

Even if we question critical aspects of Hitler’s worldview, it is important to note not only that his strategic objectives mirrored much of pre-1914 thinking, but that without his mass appeal and the loyalty of subordinates, Hitler could not have initiated world war. Would Hitler’s arguments have made as much sense to his followers, if Germany had possessed the land mass of Russia or the British empire, or if world trade had not been disrupted by the Great Depression? Implicit in what follows is the argument that had Germany been less dependent on vital goods, and had expectations for future trade not been so pessimistic following U.S., British, and French efforts to create closed trading blocs, it would have been much more difficult for Hitler to pull Germany into war: the expected value of the trading option would have been much higher – or at least not as negative – thus dampening the necessity for war.

Immediately after Hitler’s accession to power, Nazi economic policy was guided by the so-called “Reformers,” a group of economists calling for the creation of a self-sufficient “large economic area” (Grosswirtschaftsraum) protected by tariff barriers.

This campaign was prompted by the collapse of the international trading system in the wake of the slump, the revival of world-wide protectionism, and specifically, the creation of imperial or regional preference areas. . . . If Germany’s economy was to compete with those of the United States, the British Empire, and Japan, it would need to create a rival economic bloc.(72)

This was akin to the pre-World War I concept of Mitteleuropa, an idea actively resuscitated by the Bruning and Papen governments after 1930 in response to the collapse of world trade.(73)

Nevertheless, from 1933 to 1936, when the economy was overseen by Hjalmar Schacht, the president of the Reichsbank, Germany did not proceed immediately towards greater self-sufficiency. Keynesian deficit spending, including mass rearmament, produced an immediate economic revival that required marked increases in the input of raw materials, which generally came from abroad. The massive wave of protectionism that followed the U.S. Smoot-Hawley tariffs of 1930, however, created a major constraint: since Germany could not sell its exports abroad, foreign currency could not be raised to pay for the imports of raw materials.

By June 1934, Hitler was being told that the “raw materials situation [was] becoming daily more acute,” and that there was a “drain of foreign exchange.”(74) The problem was particularly acute since much of Germany’s raw material was coming from British colonies or dominions that had entered into the British imperial preference system. Part of the “New Plan” of September 1934 was to reorient German trade away from the British Empire and towards smaller European countries and South America, where supplies would be more secure.(75)

The New Plan solved the balance-of-payments problem for 1935, but by late 1935, world economic upheavals had shifted the terms of trade against Germany; import prices had risen 9 percent while export prices dropped by 9 percent. In other words, Germany had to sell 18 percent more just to import the same amount.(76) By 1936, Hitler decided to move towards greater autarchy in preparation for the war he saw as necessary for Germany’s long-term economic viability. This decision was embodied in the “Four-Year Plan” of August 1936. Imports were to be restricted to goods that could not be acquired within Germany, while a program to synthesize oil and later rubber was initiated.

Since the plan was opposed by Schacht and others, Hitler composed a lengthy memorandum to his key subordinates in August, explicating his rationale. Germany, he wrote, was engaged in a struggle for its very survival. Germany’s situation was dire: “We are overpopulated and cannot feed ourselves from our own resources. . . . It is equally impossible for us at present to manufacture artificially certain raw materials which we lack in Germany or to find substitutes for them.” Germany needed to act to relieve its dependence on “foodstuffs and raw materials,” and the solution “lies in extending our living space, that is to say; extending the sources of raw materials and foodstuff of our people.”(77)

Hitler recognized that Germany could try to satisfy its dependence by importing the necessary goods, yet this required selling exports to get imports. The world economic environment was not amenable to this strategy.

(a) Since the German people will be increasingly dependent on imports for their food and must similarly, whatever happens, import a proportion at least of certain raw materials from abroad, every effort must be made to facilitate these imports. (b) An increase in our own exports is possible in theory but in practice hardly likely. Germany does not export to a political or economic vacuum, but to areas where competition is very intense. . . . Since imports of food on the whole cannot be substantially reduced and are more likely to increase, an adjustment must be found in some other way.

Hitler’s solution was therefore to seek “100 percent self-sufficiency . . . in every sphere where it is feasible,” to save precious foreign currency for the importation of food and any raw materials that could not be found or synthesized within Germany.(78)

The problem of raw material dependence turned out to be more intractable than Hitler imagined. Through vast investments, Germany was able to increase production of synthetic fuel by 130 percent from 1936 to 1939. In 1938, however, still only about 10 percent of German petroleum need was met by domestic production; the other 90 percent was coming from outside, primarily the West Indies, the United States, and Rumania. In the same year, two-thirds of iron ore requirements came from outside. By the outbreak of war itself, Germany still relied on outsiders for fully one-third of all raw material needs.(79)

Expectations for future trade were not getting any better after 1935. British and French moves towards imperial preference solidified. The League of Nations’ attempt to impose oil sanctions on Italy after its attack on Ethiopia, while ultimately unsuccessful, also suggested how the “have” great powers would react should the “have-nots” seek changes in the status quo. And sometimes vital imports were suddenly cut off for no apparent reason, or due to uncontrollable domestic factors in the supplying nation. In February 1936, for example, the Soviet Union stopped all oil deliveries to Germany, citing only “difficulties with foreign payments.”(80) Such actions could only have further reduced Hitler’s estimate of the value of the trading option.

By 1937, the critical decision for war had been made. On November 5, 1937, Hitler brought together his top four military leaders and the Foreign Minister for what is generally considered to be the most important “war council” meeting prior to the war.(81) The issue at hand was whether Germany’s “space” problem could be solved by “means of autarchy” or by “increased participation in the world economy.” The first was infeasible, since complete autarchy “could not be maintained.” Hitler then launched into a discussion of the trading option as a means to German long-term security. To “participation in the world economy,” he said, “there were limitations which we were unable to remove. The establishment of Germany’s position on a secure and sound foundation was obstructed by market fluctuations, and commercial treaties afforded no guarantee for their actual observance.” Countries that Germany formerly relied on for food were now industrializing, implying that they could no longer meet German food needs. Germany was also living in “an age of economic empires,” and Hitler compared Germany to others with small territories, such as Japan and Italy, where “economic motives underlay the urge for expansion.” Unfortunately, “for countries outside the great economic empires, opportunities for economic expansion were severely obstructed.”

Admitting that the economic stimulus provided by rearmament “could never form the basis of a sound economy over a long period,” Hitler elaborated the supply dilemma:

There was a pronounced military weakness in those states which depend for their existence on foreign trade. As our foreign trade was carried on over the sea routes dominated by Britain, it was a question rather of security of transport than of foreign exchange, which revealed in time of war the full weakness of our food situation. The only remedy and one which might seem to us visionary, lay in the acquisition of greater living space.(82)

This living space “can be sought only in Europe”; this was “not a matter of acquiring population but of gaining space for agricultural use. Moreover, areas producing raw materials can be more usefully sought in Europe, in immediate proximity to the Reich, than overseas.”(83) Germany, he said, would have to acquire territory from others through force. He then laid out three possible contingency plans, all of which envisioned war by 1943-45 at the latest, before German military power would be past its peak.(84)

From this meeting, it is clear that the two conditions outlined by trade expectations theory as determinant of war – high dependence and low expectations for future trade – were present in the German case by the late 1930s.(85) In such a situation, even if the expected value of invasion is low or negative,(86) the value of the status quo trading option tends to be even lower; major war then becomes the lesser of two evils, especially when the negative expected value of trade only exacerbates anticipated decline. While no one would want to understate important unit-level reasons for the war (Hitler’s personality, the nature of the Nazi regime, its racist ideology, etc.), Germany’s systemic economic situation was a fundamental cause. Like Japan in 1930s, Germany’s small territorial size, highly industrialized economy, and growing population meant that it would always be dependent on other great powers for goods vital to its long-term well-being. This would be so despite German efforts to achieve relative autarchy. With the world economy going through significant fluctuations, and with large economic empires like the United States and Britain shutting off trade with have-not nations like Germany, it was not surprising that “participation in the world economy” was not seen as the means to achieve Germany’s long-term security.

Thus, Hitler’s calculations contained a certain tragic rationality eerily similar to those of German decision-makers in 1914. Moreover, German military leaders, most of whom were in positions of authority before Hitler assumed power, also accepted his logic. Disagreements with the military were mostly over tactics, not grand-strategic objectives: there was almost universal acceptance of the notion that Germany, to survive as a nation, had to overcome its severe dependence on others by grabbing the raw materials and fertile territory of other states.

 

Conclusion

This article offers a new theory to build upon liberal and realist approaches to economic interdependence and war. The other two approaches highlight important causal elements of interdependence – liberalism, the benefits of trade, and realism, the potential costs of severed trade – but neither specifies the conditions under which these elements will operate. By introducing a dynamic factor, expectations of future trade, the new theory shows when high levels of dependence lead to peace or to war. When expectations for trade are positive, leaders expect to realize the benefits of trade into the future and therefore have less reason for war now; trade will indeed “constrain.” If, however, leaders are pessimistic about future trade, fearing to be cut off from vital goods or believing that current restrictions will not be relaxed, then the negative expected value of peace may make war the rational strategic choice.

A few practical implications of this new theoretical framework for the post-Cold War world can be briefly noted. In anticipating likely areas of conflict, one should look for situations in which powers have both high levels of dependence on outsiders and low expectations for trade. Both China and Japan, as emerging great powers, may soon satisfy these conditions. China’s economy is growing at a yearly rate many times that of most other powers, and its domestic sources of raw materials are struggling to keep pace; within the next couple of years, for example, China will have to begin importing oil.(87) As it continues to modernize its armed forces, it will gradually gain the strength necessary to press its territorial claims.(88)

Japan has never truly overcome the problem it faced before World War II, namely, its overwhelming dependence on others for the vital minerals and oil needed to sustain its modern industrial economy. While U.S. hegemony in the region has allowed Japan to flourish since 1945, one can imagine the fears that would arise in Tokyo should the United States ever reduce its naval and military presence in the Far East (for budgetary or other reasons). Japan would be compelled to try to defend its raw material supply routes, setting off a spiral of hostility with regional great powers like China, India, Russia, and perhaps the United States itself.(89)

Russia still has significant economic ties with the states of the former Soviet Union, and is, in particular, dependent on pipelines through Ukraine and Belarus to sell its natural gas to Western European customers. These states in turn depend on Russia for their energy supplies.(90) Should Ukraine use threats to turn off the pipelines as political leverage, low expectations for future trade might push Russia to reoccupy its former possession in order to mitigate its economic vulnerability.

American and European dependence on Middle East’s oil exports, combined with plummeting expectations for future trade, were probably the key factors leading the United States and Europe to unite against Iraq in 1990-91. It is not hard to envision future scenarios in the Persian Gulf involving fundamentalist Iran or a resurgent Iraq that could dictate a repeat of the Gulf War, this time with perhaps far more devastating consequences.

The key to moderating these potential conflicts is to alter leaders’ perceptions of the future trading environment in which they operate. As the Far Eastern situation of the late 1930s showed, the instrument of trade sanctions must be used with great care when dealing with states possessing manifest or latent military power Economic sanctions by the United States against China for human rights violations, for example, if implemented, could push China toward expansion or naval power-projection in order to safeguard supplies and to ensure the penetration of Asian markets. Sanctions against Japan could produce the same effect, if they were made too strong, or if they appeared to reflect domestic hostility to Japan itself, not just a bargaining ploy to free up trade.

The value of maintaining an open trading system through the new World Trade Organization (WTO) is also clear: any significant trend to regionalization may force dependent great powers to use military force to protect their trading realms. In this regard, my analysis tends to support the liberal view that international institutions may help reinforce the chances for peace: insofar as these institutions solidify positive expectations about the future, they reduce the incentive for aggression. Yet trade expectations between great powers are usually improved without formal institutions being involved, simply as the result of smart bilateral diplomacy. Nixon and Kissinger achieved just that when they negotiated the 1972 trade treaty with the Soviets. Conversely, trade expectations can be shattered by poor bilateral diplomacy even within the context of an overarching international regime. American trade sanctions against China or Japan tomorrow, for example, might produce profound political-military tension, even under the new WTO framework. The existence of formal institutions, therefore, does not do away with the need for intelligent great power foreign policy between individual great powers.

This article began with the question of whether high economic interdependence between states after the Cold War might help preserve the peace. For liberals confident that a new day is dawning for the international system, this analysis sounds a strong note of caution. It is the very states that are the most dependent on others that are likely to lead the system into war, should their leaders become pessimistic about the continuation of trading relations that so determine their wealth and security. But my argument also rejects the stark view of realists who automatically equate continued high interdependence with conflict: if leaders can sustain positive expectations for the future, then trading will indeed seem more rational than invading. To a large degree, whether interdependence leads to war or to peace thus becomes a question of political foresight. Those leaders who understand that an adversary’s decisions rest not on the static situation of the present, but on the dynamic expectations for the future, will be better able to avoid the tragedy of war.

For their helpful comments on previous drafts of this article, I would like to thank Robert Art, V. Natasha Copeland, Michael Desch, Angela Doll, John Duffield, Matthew Evangelista, Richard Falkenrath, James Fearon, Joseph Grieco, Atsushi Ishida, Irving Lachow, Alastair Iain Johnston, Andrew Kydd, Jack Levy, Lisa Martin, Michael Mastanduno, John Mearsheimer, Andrew Moravcsik, John Owen, Paul Papayoanou, Stephen Rhoads, Gideon Rose, Richard Rosencrance, Len Schoppa, Herman Schwartz, Randall Schweller, Jitsuo Tsuchiyama, David Waldner, and Stephen Walt. This article also benefited from presentations at the Program on International Politics, Economics, and Security at the University of Chicago; the University of Virginia Department of Government’s faculty workshop; the annual meeting of the American Political Science Association, Chicago, September 1995; the Olin security workshop at the Center for International Affairs, Harvard University; and the Center for Science and International Affairs, Harvard University (under whose auspices it was written). All errors remain mine.

 

Notes

1. For a summary of the causal variables in the two schools, see John J. Mearsheimer, “Back to the Future: Instability in Europe After the Cold War,” International Security, Vol. 15, No. 1 (Summer 1990), pp. 5-56; Robert O. Keohane, “International Liberalism Reconsidered,” in John Dunn, ed., The Economic Limits to Modern Politics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990), pp. 165-194.

2. Four other subsidiary liberal arguments, employing intervening variables, are not sufficiently compelling to discuss here. The first suggests that high trade levels promote domestic prosperity, thereby lessening the internal problems that push leaders into war. The second argues that interdependence helps to foster increased understanding between peoples, which reduces the misunderstandings that lead to war. The third asserts that trade alters the domestic structure of states, heightening the influence of groups with a vested interest in peaceful trade. The final argument contends that trade has the “spill-over” effect of increasing political ties between trading partners, thus improving the prospects for long-term cooperation. For an critical analysis of these views, see Dale Copeland, “Economic Interdependence and the Outbreak of War,” paper presented to University of Virginia Department of Government’s faculty workshop, March 1995.

3. Richard Cobden, The Political Writings of Richard Cobden (London: T. Fischer Unwin, 1903), p. 225.

4. Norman Angell, The Great Illusion, 2d ed. (New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1933), pp. 33, 59-60, 87-89.

5. Ibid., pp. 59-62, 256.

6. Richard Rosecrance, The Rise of the Trading State: Commerce and Conquest in the Modern World (New York: Basic Books, 1986), pp. 13-14; 24-25 (emphasis added); see also Rosecrance, “War, Trade and Interdependence,” in James N. Rosenau and Hylke Tromp, eds., Interdependence and Conflict in World Politics (Aldershot, U.K.: Avebury, 1989), pp. 48-57; Rosecrance, “A New Concert of Powers,” Foreign Affairs, Vol. 71, No. 2 (Spring 1992), pp. 64-82.

7. A book often seen as a statement on the peace-inducing effects of interdependence – Robert O. Keohane and Joseph S. Nye, Power and Interdependence (Boston: Little, Brown, 1977) – actually contains no such causal argument. For Keohane and Nye, “complex interdependence” is more peaceful by definition: it is “a valuable concept for analyzing the political process” only when military force is “unthinkable” (pp. 29, 24). In the second edition: “since we define complex interdependence in terms of [policy] goals and instruments,” arguments “about how goals and instruments are affected by the degree to which a situation approximates complex interdependence or realism will be tautological.” Thus, “we are left essentially with two dependent variables: changes in agendas and changes in the roles of international organizations.” Keohane and Nye, Power and Interdependence, 2d ed. (Glenview, Ill.: Scott, Foresman, 1989), p. 255; emphasis in original. The dependent variable of this article – the likelihood of war – is nowhere to be found, which is not surprising, since it is assumed away. Other works on interdependence from the 1970s, which largely examined dependent variables other than war, are discussed in Copeland, “Economic Interdependence and the Outbreak of War.”

8. One might contend that realists doubt the causal importance of economic interdependence, since relative gains concerns convince great powers to avoid becoming dependent in the first place. Aside from arguments showing why states may cooperate despite concerns for relative gains (see essays by Powell, Snidal, and Keohane in David A. Baldwin, ed., Neorealism and Neoliberalism: The Contemporary Debate [New York: Columbia University Press, 1993!; Dale Copeland, "Why Relative Gains Concerns May Promote Economic Cooperation: A Realist Explanation for Great Power Interdependence," presented at the annual meeting of the International Studies Association, San Diego, April 1996), the argument is empirically false. Periods of high interdependence have arisen even when the security competition between great powers was particularly intense, such as from 1880 to 1914, as Waltz acknowledges. Kenneth Waltz, "The Myth of Interdependence," in Ray Maghoori and Bennett Ramberg, Globalism versus Realism (Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 1982), p. 83. Since the reality of high interdependence cannot be argued or assumed away, I focus here on the core realist claim that whenever high levels of interdependence are reached, for whatever reason, war is more likely.

9. Kenneth Waltz, Theory of International Politics (New York: Random House, 1979), p. 106.

10. John J. Mearsheimer, "Disorder Restored," in Graham Allison and Gregory F. Treverton, eds., Rethinking America's Security (New York: W.W. Norton, 1992), p. 223; Mearsheimer, "Back to the Future," p. 45. See also Robert Gilpin, "Economic Interdependence and National Security in Historical Perspective," in Klaus Knorr and Frank N. Trager, eds., Economic Issues and National Security (Lawrence, Kan.: Allen, 1977), p. 29. Adopting the realist argument, but emphasizing how dependence leads states to adopt destabilizing offensive strategies, is Anne Uchitel, "Interdependence and Instability," in Jack Snyder and Robert Jervis, eds., Coping with Complexity in the International System (Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 1993), pp. 243-264. For Barry Buzan, since liberal free-trading systems are dependent on a hegemon which invariably declines, such systems are destined to fall into "malevolent" mercantilist practices, as states scramble to control access to goods formerly safeguarded by the hegemon. Avoiding the liberal system altogether, through a "benign" mercantilist system of self-sufficient trading blocs, will be therefore preferred. Buzan, "Economic Structure and International Security: The Limits of the Liberal Case," International Organization, Vol. 38, No. 4 (Autumn 1984), esp. pp. 597, 609-623. For a similar argument, see Robert Gilpin, U.S. Power and the Multinational Corporation (New York: Basic Books), 1975, p. 259.

11. See Eli F. Heckscher, Mercantilism, vol. 2, trans. Mendel Shapiro (London: George Allen, 1931), p. 15; Jacob Viner, "Power Versus Plenty as Objectives of Foreign Policy in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries," World Politics, Vol. 1, No. 1 (October 1948), p. 10; David A. Baldwin, Economic Statecraft (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1985), chap. 5.

12. Heckscher, Mercantilism, vol. 2, p. 40.

13. See Keohane and Nye, "World Politics and the International Economic System," in C. Fred Bergsten, ed., The Future of the International Economic Order (Lexington: D.C. Heath, 1973), pp. 121-122; Neil R. Richardson and Charles W. Kegley, "Trade Dependence and Foreign Policy Compliance," International Studies Quarterly, Vol. 24, No. 2 (June 1980), pp. 191-222.

14. David A. Baldwin, "Interdependence and Power: A Conceptual Analysis," International Organization, Vol. 34, No. 4 (Autumn 1980), pp. 478, 482-484, 489; Baldwin, "The Power of Positive Sanctions," World Politics, Vol. 24, No. 1 (October 1971), pp. 19-38; Albert O. Hirschman, National Power and the Structure of Foreign Trade, exp. ed. (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980), chap. 2.

15. On the costs of adjustment, see Ruth Arad, Seev Hirsch, and Alfred Tovias, The Economics of Peacemaking (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1983), pp. 26-34. Keohane and Nye examine the "costs of adjusting" as an integral part of "vulnerability" interdependence (Power and Interdependence, p. 13). Yet they do not establish the original autarchic position as a baseline for examining these costs independently from the benefits of trade forgone; this baseline is incorporated later in building the new theory. Liberals also consider "costs" in terms of losses in "autonomy" due to trade ties; see Richard N. Cooper, The Economics of Interdependence (New York: McGraw Hill, 1968), pp. 4-12; Rosecrance, Rise of the Trading State, pp. 39-41, 235. Note, however, that these are costs that go hand in hand with high trade, not costs that are experienced if trade is cut off. Hence, these losses in autonomy are more accurately considered as a form of sensitivity interdependence - costs incurred when trade is ongoing - rather than as a form of "vulnerability" interdependence so worrying to realists. On this, see Keohane and Nye, "International Interdependence and Integration," in Fred I. Greenstein and Nelson W. Polsby, eds., Handbook of Political Science, vol. 8 (Reading, Mass.: Addison-Wesley, 1975), pp. 368-370.

16. Rosecrance, Rise of the Trading State, pp. 144-145. In the appendix, an iterated prisoner's dilemma is used to show the "concrete benefits" from trade cooperation. If states decide not to cooperate, they simply "[do] not benefit”; pp. 233-236.

17. Rosecrance occasionally seems to accept that some goods are more vital than others, but even here he reiterates the liberal argument: “Countries dependent on the world economy for markets, assistance, and critical raw materials are doubly hesitant to embark on military adventures”; ibid., p. 133, emphasis added.

18. See Plato’s Phaedrus in Phaedrus and Letters VII and VIII, trans. Walter Hamilton (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1973), sections 246-256. The historical roots of this view are explicated in Albert O. Hirschman, The Passions and the Interests: Political Arguments for Capitalism before its Triumph (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1977). He quotes Montesquieu (ibid., p. 73): “It is fortunate for men to be in a situation in which, though their passions may prompt them to be wicked, they have nevertheless an interest in not being so.”

19. Rosecrance, Rise of the Trading State, pp. 102-103 (see also p. 111). Rosecrance does point out that Germany and Japan apparently went to war also to gain raw materials (ibid., p. 108). He does not argue, however, that these two states were more dependent than other states for such materials; to have done so would suggest the validity of the realist logic.

20. See ibid., pp. 106, 123, 150, 162.

21. See ibid., pp. 18-19, 88, 96-97, 99, 150.

22. Ibid., p. 141 (see also p. 150). The argument here borders on being non-falsifiable: disconfirming cases where war occurs despite high interdependence can be sidestepped by saying simply that states did not “accept” being peaceful traders. Note as well that if states have already decided to be peaceful, then interdependence is not needed as a restraint.

23. On liberalism’s inherently unit-level orientation to conflict, see Andrew Moravcsik, “Liberalism and International Relations Theory,” Working Paper, Center for International Affairs, Harvard University, 1992; Michael Howard, War and the Liberal Conscience (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1978). On the democratic peace argument, see Bruce Russett, Grasping the Democratic Peace (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993).

24. See Rosecrance, Rise of the Trading State, appendix.

25. On the differences between comparative statics and dynamic analyses that incorporate the future, see Eugene Silberberg, The Structure of Economics, 2d ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1990), chaps. 1, 12, and 18.

26. That is, war is rational if it has either a higher net positive value or a lower net negative value. The theory thus works regardless of whether states are innately “greedy” – seeking positive gains from war – or simply security-seekers desiring to minimize long-term threats. See Charles L. Glaser, “Political Consequences of Military Strategy: Expanding and Refining the Spiral and Deterrence Models,” World Politics, Vol. 44, No. 4 (July 1992), pp. 497-538. By connecting the trading environment to fears about relative decline, I draw upon the notion that declining states launch preventive wars to uphold their waning security. Elsewhere, I build a solely power-driven theory showing why states faced with deep and inevitable decline initiate major wars. Dale Copeland, “Neorealism and the Myth of Bipolar Stability: Toward a New Dynamic Realist Theory of Major War,” Security Studies, Vol. 5, No. 3 (Spring 1996).

27. This is consistent with standard trade theory. See Richard E. Caves and Ronald W. Jones, World Trade and Payments, 4th ed. (Boston: Little Brown, 1985), chaps. 3-4.

28. I thank Andrew Moravcsik for discussions on the potential benefits of trade.

29. The capital investments represent “sunk costs” not easily recouped. See Arad, Hirsch, and Tovias, The Economics of Peacemaking, pp. 26-28.

30. On the importance of alternatives, see Baldwin, “Interdependence and Power,” p. 482; Keohane and Nye, Power and Interdependence, p. 13. It is worth remembering that alternative suppliers and markets are only valuable in reducing A’s dependence if A can get access to them. If B is able not only to sever bilateral trade, but also to blockade A to prevent third-party trading, then A effectively has no alternatives and is therefore dependent. This was the situation for Japan vis-a-vis the United States before 1941 regarding oil imports.

31. This line of reasoning is developed formally in Dale Copeland, “Modelling Economic Interdependence and War: A Theory of Trade Expectations,” paper presented at the annual meeting of the American Political Science Association, Chicago, September 1995. It is consistent with consideration of the “probability of transaction” as a determinant of expected national income in Arad, Hirsch, and Tovias, The Economic of Peacemaking, pp. 37-43, although they do not employ expectations of future trade as a theoretical variable affecting the likelihood of war.

32. The U.S.-Soviet Cold War case is covered in Copeland, “Modelling Economic Interdependence and War.”

33. See Alexander L. George and Richard Smoke, Deterrence in American Foreign Policy: Theory and Practice (New York: Columbia University Press, 1974), chaps. 2-3.

34. This is developed formally in Copeland, “Modelling Economic Interdependence and War.”

35. See Peter Liberman, “Does Conquest Pay? The Exploitation of Occupied Industrial Economies” (Ph.D. diss., Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 1991).

36. Thucydides, The Peloponnesian War, trans. Rex Warner (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1954), Book 1, lines 80-88.

37. When one state is very large and the other very small, it is harder to sort out the effects of interdependence from the effects of relative power, at least in actual cases of war. The expected value of war for the superior state is likely to be quite positive anyway, and thus will tend to overshadow the expected value of trade even when the state has positive expectations of future trade. Here, the superior state simply chooses war as the “greater of two goods.” This choice would not be altered by any diminution of trade expectations; indeed, war would simply be even more rational as the expected value of trade (and therefore peace) falls. War in such a situation of marked power imbalance and low expectations of future trade is thus overdetermined; it would be difficult to tell whether war occurred because of the positive expected value of war, the negative expected value of trade, or both. Thus, in my empirical analysis, I examine cases where great powers attacked great powers in long and costly total wars. While these cases do not cover the universe of wars, they do isolate the role of economic interdependence and changing expectations of future trade in the outbreak of war.

38. Given space constraints, my case studies in this article do not provide a full analysis of the bargaining dynamic. For an analysis of interstate economic bargaining, see Baldwin, Economic Statecraft, chap. 6; R. Harrison Wagner, “Economic Interdependence, Bargaining Power, and Political Influence,” International Organization, Vol. 42, No. 3 (Summer 1988), pp. 461-483. Note also that there may be a causal feedback loop, whereby increasing fears of war lead others to reduce trade, which in turn heightens the incentive of dependent states to initiate war. These and other issues involving the endogeneity of trade expectations are addressed more fully in my book manuscript, “Economic Interdependence and War.”

39. Note that state A, the decision-making unit in the theory, can still be treated as a rational unitary actor responding to the observed domestic forces on the other side.

40. See Copeland, “Modeling Economic Interdependence and War,” pp. 62-66. International trade institutions such as the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT), by lowering transaction costs and facilitating the punishment of cheaters, may be an additional means to build positive expectations for future trade. Indeed, for some liberals, peace may only be likely when both interdependence and effective global institutions co-exist and reinforce one another; Keohane, “International Liberalism Reconsidered,” p. 183. While such institutions may indeed affect trade expectations, they are unlikely to be as significant in history as the systemic and domestic factors just discussed, for the simple reason that these institutions are a creation of the post-World War II era. Moreover, since concerns for war and peace revolve mostly around the great powers, and powers like Soviet Union and China have been historically excluded from trade institutions like GATT, such institutions cannot account for fluctuations in the levels of tension between the United States and these powers since 1945. Finally, the institutional approach overlooks bilateral diplomacy as the principal mechanism through which expectations of trade change; consider the United States and Japan up to December 1941, or the United States and Japan today. Accordingly, while my argument recognizes the contribution institutions can make to the improvement of future trade expectations, the focus both theoretically and empirically remains fundamentally non-institutional.

41. Trade expectations theory, like realism, is a systemic theory; it assumes no unit-level drives towards aggression. While expectations may seem like a unit-level factor, remember that these are expectations of an external phenomenon, namely, the other’s propensity to trade into the future; the causal source of behavior comes from outside, not from within, the actor See Waltz, Theory of International Politics, p. 60. One might also argue that domestic and individual level factors within a state can distort expectations, but I simply assume that such misperceptions are minimal for purposes of building a deductive theory; this assumption can be later relaxed if so desired.

42. Given space limitations, my “best case” among the major wars of this century, Japan and World War II, is covered elsewhere; Copeland, “Modelling Economic Interdependence and War.” I show that Japanese leaders – military, civilian, and the emperor himself – reluctantly moved towards a consensus for war with the United States and Britain due to progressively more devastating U.S.-British trade sanctions. Japan, due to its small size, was almost completely dependent on outside sources for the raw materials and oil that supported its industrial structure. As American and British trade restrictions began to increase after 1930, and especially after a series of embargoes starting in 1939, Japan shifted from a primary concern with the Soviet threat to the need for control of raw materials in South East Asia. After the U.S., British, and Dutch severed all oil trade to Japan in July-August 1941, Japanese leaders agreed that unless oil imports were restored, economic decline would imperil long-term security. Hence, following the failure of desperate diplomatic initiatives in November 1941 to secure renewed trade, the plan for all-out war was accepted by the emperor. In short, Japan’s extreme dependence, coupled with very negative expectations for future trade, pushed the country into a war that almost all recognized would have great costs and a low probability of success. See Nobutaka Ike, trans. and ed., Japan’s Decision for War: Records of the 1941 Policy Conferences (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1967).

43. See note 37, above. To minimize the selection bias of focusing just on the wars themselves, I also look at the periods before the wars began, to see how incentives for aggression changed as independent variables did.

44. Empirical analyses so far have been primarily correlational studies, finding that high trade tends to be associated with lower conflict. Mark J. Gasiorowski, “Economic Interdependence and International Conflict: Some Cross-national Evidence,” International Studies Quarterly, Vol. 30, No. 1 (March 1986), pp. 22-38; Mark J. Gasiorowski and Solomon W. Polachek, “Conflict and Interdependence: East-West Trade and Linkages in the Era of Detente,” Journal of Conflict Resolution, Vol. 26, No. 4 (December 1982), pp. 709-729; Polachek, “Conflict and Trade,” Journal of Conflict Research, Vol. 24, No. 1 (March 1980), pp. 55-78; William J. Domke, War and the Changing Global System (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1988), chap. 5; Edward D. Mansfield, Power, Trade, and War (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), chap 4. These studies, however, provide no documentary evidence that leaders considered trade levels in deciding between war and peace. It is thus hard to know whether the correlation is spurious or illuminating. While the result seems to support liberalism over realism, it is also consistent with trade expectations theory: high trade should be associated with lower conflict in those instances where expectations for future trade are also positive. Given their suspect methodologies, one should also be cautious about quickly dismissing realism. The correlation of trade with less conflict in the first three studies is not surprising, since dyads of small states are included to build the sample. Such states tend to have very high trade/GNP ratios. See Stephen D. Krasner, “State Power and the Structure of International Trade,” World Politics, Vol. 28, No. 3 (April 1976), p. 328. However, they are deterred from war by their very size. Note as well that all of these tests simply assume that the trade/GNP ratio alone is an adequate measure of the core concept, dependence. Given the concern of realism and trade expectations theory for the costs of severed trade, a proper test must also include such factors as dependence on others for vital goods and availability of alternative sources of supply.

45. See Paul M. Kennedy, The Rise of Anglo-German Antagonism, 1860-1914 (London: Ashfield, 1980), chaps. 12-14.

46. Quoted from German Diplomatic Documents, 1871-1914, vol. II, trans. E.T.S. Dugsdale (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1930), pp. 486-487.

47. Fritz Fischer, War of Illusions: German Policies from 1911 to 1914, trans. Marian Jackson (New York: W. W. Norton, 1975), p. 7.

48. Lamar Cecil, Albert Ballin: Business and Politics in Imperial Germany (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1967), p. 149. It was at this time that German leaders implemented the concepts of Weltpolitik and Mitteleuropa as responses to growing foreign protectionism. Weltpolitik sought “the attainment of secure external supplies of raw materials at regulated prices,” while Mitteleuropa, its continental counterpart, envisioned the development of “an organized and protected system of economic exchanges between an industrial Germany and an agricultural periphery in central and eastern Europe.” See Woodruff D. Smith, The Ideological Origins of Nazi Imperialism (New York: Oxford University Press, 1986), pp. 65, 78.

49. See B.R. Mitchell, European Historical Statistics, 1750-1975, 2d rev. ed. (New York: Facts on File, 1981), pp. 514, 821 on trade/GNP; pp. 393, 439 on oil; pp. 409, 445-446 on iron ore. See W.F. Bruck, Social and Economic History of Germany from William II to Hitler, 1888-1938 (Cardiff: Oxford University Press, 1938), p. 110, on raw materials.

50. Holger H. Herwig, Politics of Frustration: The United States in German Naval Planning, 1889-1941 (Boston: Little, Brown, 1976), p. 9.

51. Quoted in G. Lowes Dickinson, The International Anarchy, 1904-1914 (New York: Century, 1926), p. 261; see also chap. 10.

52. See Fiona Venn, Oil Diplomacy in the Twentieth Century (New York: St. Martin’s, 1986), chap. 2; Daniel Yergin, The Prize: The Epic Quest for Oil, Money, and Power (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1991), pp. 153-163.

53. Fischer, War of Illusions, pp. 321-322; see also Hans W. Gatzke, Germany’s Drive to the West (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1950), pp. 30-38.

54. Quoted in Fischer, War of Illusion, p. 326; see also pp. 322-326.

55. Avner Offer, The First World War: An Agrarian Interpretation (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989), p. 322; chaps. 15-21; pp. 325-326, 335. By 1906, Germany was importing about 20 per cent of its annual grain consumption (p. 230).

56. While Fischer’s goal is to show that domestic causes for the war were predominant, much of his evidence actually indicates that German leaders were driven by systemic concerns, namely the safeguarding of German economic security. Fischer, War of Illusions, pp. viii-ix.

57. Quoted in ibid., p. 35.

58. Fischer’s words, ibid., p. 10.

59. Quotations in ibid., pp. 234, 250-253.

60. Quoted in ibid., pp. 238, 450.

61. For a summary, see Dale Copeland, “Realism and the Origins of Major War” (Ph.D. diss., University of Chicago, 1993), chaps. 3 and 4.

62. Quoted in Fritz Fischer, Germany’s Aims in the First World War (New York: W. W. Norton, 1967), pp. 103-104.

63. Ibid., pp. 101 and 11. The first part of the quote is Fischer’s paraphrase from the document; the words “essential objective” Fischer takes from the document itself. Bethmann was clearly impressed by the memo; he circulated it throughout the department. Ibid., p. 101.

64. Quoted in Fischer, War of Illusions, p. 533; Fischer, Germany’s Aims, p. 104.

65. Fischer’s words summarizing the document, War of Illusions, p. 538.

66. Quoted in ibid., p. 540.

67. Quoted in ibid., p. 539.

68. Quoted in Fischer, War of Illusions, p. 539 and Germany’s Aims, p. 251.

69. In showing this continuity, I do not mean to minimize the atrocities committed by the Nazi regime. Rather, while Hitler’s means were far more evil than Wilhelmine Germany’s, many of his ends in terms of economic and territorial security were essentially the same. The most important contribution to the “continuity” argument in modern historiography is Fritz Fischer’s work and the work of his followers in the “Hamburg School.” See also Smith, Ideological Origins.

70. Hitler, Mein Kampf, trans. Ralph Manheim (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1925), pp. 131-140. For the pre-1914 origins of the idea of Lebensraum, see Smith, Ideological Origins, chap. 5.

71. On Hitler’s fears of the rise of Russia, see Hitler, Mein Kampf, chap. 24.

72. From J. Noakes and G. Pridham’s summary notes, Nazism 1919-1945: A Documentary Reader, vols. 2 and 3 (Exeter, U.K.: University of Exeter, 1988), pp. 259-260.

73. Ibid., p. 260.

74. Ibid., Doc. No. 181, p. 270.

75. Ibid., p. 274. See also Hirschman, National Power, part II.

76. Noakes and Pridham, Nazism, 1919-1945, p. 277.

77. Ibid., Doc. No. 185, pp. 283-284.

78. Ibid., Doc. No. 185, pp. 284-286 (emphasis added).

79. Oil figures from Robert Goralski and Russell W. Freeburg, Oil and War: How the Deadly Struggle for Fuel in WWII Meant Victory or Defeat (New York: William Morrow, 1987), p. 26; iron ore from Mitchell, European Historical Statistics, pp. 446, 410; raw materials from Noakes and Pridham, Nazism 1919-1945, p. 291. On German efforts to reduce dependence through increased trade ties with China and Eastern Europe, and through intervention in the Spanish Civil War, see Gerhard L. Weinberg, The Foreign Policy of Hitler’s Germany: Starting World War II (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980), chaps. 1, 5 and 7; David E. Kaiser, Economic Diplomacy and the Origins of the Second World War (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1980); Robert H. Whealey, Hitler and Spain: The Nazi Role in the Spanish Civil War, 1936-1939 (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1989); Berenice A. Carroll, Design for Total War: Arms and Economics in the Third Reich (The Hague: Mouton, 1968).

80. Yergin, The Prize, p. 332.

81. See Noakes and Pridham, Nazism 1919-1945, p. 680.

82. Ibid., Doc. No. 503, pp. 681-683.

83. Ibid., Doc. No. 503, pp. 682-683.

84. Ibid., Doc. No. 503, pp. 684-685.

85. One might discount Hitler’s language as mere talk necessary to justify his true driving force, which was his lust to dominate others; see Hans J. Morgenthau, Scientific Man Versus Power Politics (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1946). Even if this were true, however, it begs the question of why he felt his four key military leaders would need to hear an elaborate economic rationale for war. We thus return to the point that without the support of his subordinates, Hitler could not have initiated war; calculated aggression, therefore, had to have a logical end. It is also clear that the majority of Hitler’s military leaders were not simply brain-washed dupes of Nazi ideology, but accepted the necessity of major war on strategic grounds. See the essays in Correlli Barnett, ed., Hitler’s Generals (New York: Quill, 1989); John J. Mearsheimer, Conventional Deterrence (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1983), chap. 4; Dale Copeland, “Deterrence, Reassurance, And Machiavellian Appeasement: Was the Second World War Inevitable?” paper presented at Security Studies conference on “Deterrence after the Cold War: Theoretical Perspectives and Policy Implications of Enduring Rivalries,” Naval Postgraduate School, Monterey, Calif., September 1995.

86. On May 23, 1939, Hitler told his top military officials that while Germany must “aim at a short war,” it “must also be prepared for a war of 10-15 years’ duration.” Noakes and Pridham, Nazism 1919-1945, Doc. No. 539, p. 738.

87. See Nicholas D. Kristof, “The Rise of China,” Foreign Affairs, Vol. 72, No. 5 (November/December 1993), p. 64.

88. China has already staked a claim to the potentially oil rich and much disputed Spratly Islands in the South China Sea. See Gerald Segal, “East Asia and The ‘Constrainment’ of China,” International Security, Vol. 20, No. 4 (Spring 1996), pp. 107-135. William H. Overholt, The Rise of China: How Economic Reform is Creating a New Superpower (New York: Norton, 1993).

89. For an exaggerated but still insightful analysis of this, see George Friedman and Meredith Lebard, The Coming War with Japan (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1991).

90. See Erik Whitlock, “Ukrainian-Russian Trade: The Economics of Dependency,” Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty Research Report, Vol. 2, No. 43 (October 29, 1993), pp. 38-42.

 

Dale C. Copeland is Assistant Professor in the Department of Government and Foreign Affairs at the University of Virginia.

Source: International Security, Vol. 20, no.4 (Spring 1996)

 

Globalization’s Missing Middle

June 26, 2008

By Geoffrey Garrett

 

The polarized debate over the effects of free trade and international capital flows has become a fixture of world politics. Boosters of globalization assert that it is a win-win proposition for the rich and the poor, developed and developing countries alike. President George W. Bush has said that “a world that trades in freedom … grows in prosperity,” reiterating a theme Bill Clinton championed in the 1990s. But critics see a small global elite lining its pockets at the expense of everyone else. John Kerry’s decrying of outsourcing by “Benedict Arnold CEOs” is this year’s version of Ross Perot’s 1992 forecast that the North Atlantic Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) would make a “giant sucking sound” by drawing jobs out of the United States.

All this good-versus-evil rhetoric obscures one key fact: while globalization has benefited many, it has squeezed the middle class, both within societies and in the international system. In today’s global markets, there are only two ways to get ahead. People and countries must be competitive in either the knowledge economy, which rewards skills and institutions that promote cutting-edge technological innovation, or the low-wage economy, which uses widely available technology to do routine tasks at the lowest possible cost. Those who cannot compete in either include not only the erstwhile industrial middle class in wealthy nations, but also most countries in the middle of the worldwide distribution of income, notably in Latin America and eastern and central Europe.

This tripartite account of globalization’s results does not fit neatly into either of the paradigms that dominate the current debate. On the one hand, globalization’s supporters-who maintain that all countries should gain from opening their economies-try to explain the poor performance of the middle-income countries by invoking factors other than globalization, such as the trauma of eastern Europe’s rupture with its socialist past or endemic corruption and inefficiency in Latin America. On the other hand, critics of globalization, who refuse to accept that it has benefited anyone in the developing world save a tiny Westernized elite, fixate on various injustices (using terms such as “sweatshop labor”) and discount its positive effects as the product of other processes, such as the modernization of agriculture in China. But simple evidence demonstrates that both views are inexact. In fact, middle-income countries have not done nearly as well under globalized markets as either richer or poorer countries, and the ones that have globalized the most have fared the worst.

The question is, how can they be helped? Displaced American manufacturing workers would probably rather get jobs at Microsoft or Genentech than at McDonald’s or Wal-Mart. But for most of them this just is not a realistic option. On the global stage, countries such as Mexico and Poland would similarly like to compete with Japan and Germany in the U.S. market for high-value-added goods and services. But their work forces are not skilled enough and their economic institutions not sufficiently supportive of investment or innovation to take advantage of the knowledge workers they do have. As a result, the middle-income countries have been forced into unwinnable battles with China for market share in standardized manufacturing and, increasingly, with India for low-wage service-sector exports.

In the United States and the rest of the Western world, the challenge of helping the disaffected middle class “tech up” (rather than dumb down) is well understood. People must be given access to the education and training that can transform them into successful knowledge workers. Likewise, middle-income countries must be helped up the global skill chain. Meaningful educational reform is long overdue, but it is only the beginning. Middle-income countries need broad and deep institutional reforms in government, banking, and law to transform economies that stifle innovation into ones that foster it with strong property-rights regimes, effective financial systems, and good governance.

The stakes are high-and not only for politicians vying to control the electoral center in Western democracies. For more than a decade, citizens in middle-income countries have been told by international financial institutions and by their own governments that opening to the global economy will bring large and widely shared benefits. But all too often the troubling reality has been persistently high unemployment and stagnant incomes. In both eastern Europe and Latin America, the stark disjuncture between lofty rhetoric and grim reality has proved fertile ground for populist backlashes against global markets and their perceived American masters. The world’s leaders must find ways to empower middle-income countries so that the fruits of globalization can be enjoyed by their people too.

 

Another Country

Princeton economist Paul Krugman lamented in The New York Times two years ago that “the middle-class America of my youth was another country.” He was right. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, manufacturing employment, the quintessential American middle-class occupation, has fallen from one-fifth to one-tenth of total American jobs in just the last two decades. Meanwhile, employment in “professional and business services,” which pay higher salaries to more skilled workers, has more than doubled, overtaking manufacturing in the process. At the same time, the number of low-paying jobs in “leisure and hospitality” industries has also essentially doubled and now rivals total manufacturing employment. Jobs on the American factory floor have thus been replaced, in more or less equal measure, by “junk” jobs such as flipping burgers and cleaning floors and by the new glamour professions of writing software and managing money. The result is that the distribution of income in the United States has been stretched at both the high and low ends, significantly increasing social inequality.

A similar process has been taking place at the global level. The world’s wealthiest countries have grown richer in recent decades as a result of dramatic advances in technology, and the rate of economic advance has been even faster in the new manufacturing dynamos among the world’s poorest countries. Squeezed between these two success stories, the countries in the middle have floundered.

One easy way to measure these changes is to track per capita national income worldwide according to the three major country groupings created by the World Bank. The top 25 percent of countries are labeled “high income,” a category that comprises the nations in the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, plus a few small Middle Eastern oil exporters and trading states such as Singapore. The bottom 30 percent are labeled “low income.” This group includes more than half of the world’s six billion people, chiefly in the countries of Asia and sub-Saharan Africa. The remaining 45 percent of countries-almost all of Latin America and the former Soviet bloc as well as the Asian tigers and much of the Middle East-are “middle income.”

In 1980 (a useful ending date for the preglobalization period), the differences in per capita income among these three groups of countries were enormous: roughly 1,000 percent both between the low-and middle-income countries and between the middle-and high-income countries. Average GDP per capita was less than $300 in the low-income group, roughly $2,500 in the middle-income group, and more than $20,000 in the high-income group (in 1995 dollars at market exchange rates and adjusted for inflation). After two decades of integration of national economies into international markets, by 2000, per capita incomes in the countries categorized as high income in 1980 had increased by roughly 50 percent in real terms, due in no small part to innovation fueled by advances in biotech and information and communications technology.

At the other end of the spectrum, the world’s poorest countries fared even better-indeed much better. During the 1980s and 1990s, their real per capita income increased by more than 160 percent. This growth miracle was spurred not by sales of agricultural products (the focus of ongoing debate over the future of the World Trade Organization), but by large-scale exports of standardized manufactured goods, ranging from steel to shoes to computer hardware. Exports of all goods and services increased in the low-income countries from less than 15 percent of GDP in 1980 to 28 percent in 2000. Over the same period, the share of manufacturing in total exports tripled, rising from 15 percent to more than 45 percent.

To be sure, profound inequalities remain in the cross-national distribution of income (even if one uses comparisons based on purchasing-power parity, which substantially increase estimates of per capita income in developing countries, rather than comparisons based on market exchange rates). But the big story of the past two decades is that the income ratio between the countries characterized as high and low income in 1980 has essentially been cut in half. Moreover, the growth led by manufacturing exports seems to have benefited wide cross-sections of the population in low-income countries. As journalists Nicholas Kristof and Cheryl WuDunn have pointed out, the factories that liberals denounce as sweatshops have nonetheless provided opportunities for people with limited skills to move from subsistence farming and penury into much-better-paying manufacturing jobs.

This “modernization through globalization” has undoubtedly had its deleterious consequences, including heightened inequalities between rural and urban populations and between hinterland and coastal regions, precipitating large-scale internal migrations. As the recent elections in India showed, such problems can lead to powerful political resistance from those left behind. Nonetheless, in India, China, and other countries in which the social pie has been rapidly expanding, these difficulties are easier to handle than in more stagnant economies.

Although proponents of globalization can point to record growth in low-income countries as proof of their wisdom, they should be troubled by the economic stagnation in middle-income countries. Supporters of NAFTA are wont to label the treaty a success for middle-income Mexico because it has stimulated trade and manufacturing across the border from the United States. And it is true that exports in the middle-income world increased from less than 20 percent of GDP in 1980 to more than 30 percent in 2000, while the share of manufacturing in total exports increased from under 30 percent to more than 50 percent. But despite the export growth, this group of nations has fallen even further behind the West, defying the age-old logic of “catch up,” by which poorer countries reap the rewards of technology developed in richer nations. Real per capita income in the middle-income group grew by less than 20 percent during the 1980s and 1990s, less than half of the growth rate achieved in the high-income world and less than one-eighth of that in low-income countries. As a result, the ratio of per capita incomes of high-and middle-income countries actually increased by about 20 percent during the past two decades, while the ratio between high-and low-income countries dropped by 50 percent. These figures are all the more troubling because middle-income countries tend to have better-developed economic and political institutions and more educated labor forces-which development economists consider key drivers of growth-than their low-income counterparts.

Why has globalization been disappointing for countries in the middle? The answer seems to be that they have not found a niche in world markets. They have been unable to compete in high-value-added markets dominated by wealthy economies because their work forces are not sufficiently skilled and their legal and banking systems are not sophisticated enough. As a result, they have had little choice but to try to compete with China and other low-income economies in markets for standardized products made with widely available and relatively old technologies. But because of their higher wages, the middle-income nations are bound to lose the battle.

These economic woes have been compounded by the speed with which middle-income countries opened their financial markets to the outside world, particularly in the 1990s. In theory, developed-world capital can fuel development in lagging economies. But in reality, capital account liberalization in Latin America and eastern Europe, as well as in Asia, has brought instability, volatility, and, on more than one occasion, full-blown financial crisis. Now, even the International Monetary Fund (IMF) admits how misguided was its blanket support for liberalizing financial markets in developing countries with weak domestic financial institutions and fixed exchange rates (implemented in response to high inflation). The new orthodoxy thus favors sequencing: developing strong domestic financial markets and banking systems first and opening to international financial markets later. But this rethinking is of little comfort to countries recently ravaged by boom-and-bust cycles of hot money.

 

Searching For Explanations

The success of globalization in both high-and low-income countries can be readily explained by mainstream economics. Technological change and the international integration of markets have spurred growth in high-income nations, reversing the slowdown of the 1970s. Low-income countries have exploited their comparative advantage in cheap labor to gain large shares of the global marketplace.

The failure of middle-income countries to compete in global markets for either knowledge or low-wage products is decidedly less well understood, however. It flies in the face of many economists’ core belief that all countries should gain from opening their markets to the outside world by doing what they do best, even if they do not do it as well as their competitors. As a result, supporters of “free trade for all” try to explain the poor performance of middle-income nations by pointing to causes other than their inability to find a productive niche in the global economy. These true believers argue that the integration of the middle tier into international markets is not at fault for these countries’ recent dire economic record and that freer trade has ameliorated, not exacerbated, their problems.

One common argument brackets the experiences in the 1990s of the countries of the former Soviet bloc. For all the promise of their velvet revolutions, their transition from communist pasts to capitalist futures has been painful, and it would be a stretch to portray globalization as the principal culprit in this difficult birth of free-market democracy. Yet, even excluding ex-communist nations, per capita income in the remaining middle-tier countries increased by only 25 percent from 1980 to 2000, half the growth rate of the top tier and one-sixth that of the bottom tier. Blaming the problems of all middle-income countries on the collapse of the Soviet system is thus not persuasive.

Another attempt to resuscitate the classic case for free trade juxtaposes middle-income globalizers and nonglobalizers to argue that, whatever the problems of the middle-income group, the globalizers in it have fared better. In fact, the opposite is true. According to World Bank data, middle-income countries that cut tariffs less during the 1980s and 1990s grew more than those that opened up faster to globalization and cut tariffs more. A comparison of the experience of Latin America and eastern Asia, for example, casts serious doubt on a central shibboleth of development economics: that underperforming Latin American states are victims of their insularity and protectionism whereas overachieving eastern Asian states are the beneficiaries of their wholesale endorsement of global markets.

As careful observers such as Alice Amsden and Robert Wade pointed out long ago, it is misleading to characterize the first Asian tigers as having “open” economies. Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan all pursued the same strategy in their takeoff phases: nurture infant industries such as electronics and automobiles with preferential credit and protection from international competition and then do whatever possible to find export markets for these products. Since removing protectionist barriers to the home market is a critical expression of a state’s move toward free trade, the eastern Asian countries cannot be held up as paragons of virtuous globalization. During the Cold War, because of security imperatives, the United States nonetheless allowed these countries unfettered access to U.S. markets. It was only in the mid-1980s, when Asian competition came to be seen as a threat to the U.S. economy, that Washington pushed hard for reciprocal access to eastern Asian markets.

In contrast, when, after decades of stifling protectionism, Latin American countries opened their economies with a vengeance in the 1980s and 1990s, they scored decidedly mixed results. They did exactly what the U.S. Treasury, the IMF, and the World Bank told them to do-open up, deregulate, privatize-arguably liberalizing more thoroughly than any other region in the developing world. (Average tariff rates in Latin America were cut in half from the mid-1980s to the late 1990s, compared with reductions of about 10 percent in other middle-income countries and 30 percent in low-income nations.) If the conventional diagnosis of Latin America’s historical problems were correct, the continent would have reaped large rewards from liberalization or, at least, larger rewards than other middle-income countries that opened up less. But in fact, economic growth was even slower in Latin America than in the rest of the (already underperforming) middle-income world. Per capita incomes in Latin America increased by less than 10 percent from 1980 to 2000, compared with almost 30 percent for the remaining middle-income nations. Within the region itself, moreover, the countries that cut their tariffs the most grew the most slowly.

 

Unconventional Wisdom

Proponents of openness tend to square their predictions with the experience of Latin American states by blaming domestic conditions such as widespread corruption, poor infrastructure, and underdeveloped economic institutions. Most Latin American countries could no doubt use better policies and better institutions. So too, of course, could low-income countries that suffer from political problems, such as civil wars and coups, that most Latin American countries have finally put behind them. If low-income countries have benefited from liberalization at least in part because it generated pressure for domestic reform, why, proponents of globalization might ask, have those in Latin America not similarly benefited?

Conventional economic analysis offers no clear answer to this question. One theory ventures that the true anomaly is not the relative underperformance of middle-income countries, but exceptional cases among low-income countries that have led analysts to find a spurious correlation between openness to trade and economic success. It suggests that a couple of gargantuan outliers, China and India, could skew the figures in favor of the low-income category.

With one-third of the world’s population between them, China and India do loom large in any discussion of recent economic development. After three decades of Maoist rule, the Chinese government began economic liberalization in 1978, spurring more than 20 years of double-digit growth rates. India’s liberalization came more than a decade later, but dropping long-standing quasi-socialist policies also brought the country spectacular results. In both cases, economic openness, particularly tariff reductions, was essential. From the mid-1980s to the late 1990s, China cut its average tariff rate in half, to 20 percent, and India cut its rates from around 90 percent to 30 percent. Thus, it is far from clear that these countries should be excluded from an analysis of the effects of globalization on the low-income world.

But even when the staggering achievements of China and India are discounted, it is still true that remaining low-income countries fared better in the 1980s and 1990s than did the middle-income world (with increases in per capita income of 55 percent against 20 percent). Savvy observers of the world economy might find these figures difficult to believe: after all, virtually all sub-Saharan African countries qualify as “low income,” yet their recent record has been anything but miraculous. Per capita incomes in poor sub-Saharan Africa have indeed stagnated in recent decades, for reasons ranging from pestilence and disease to ethnic heterogeneity to dictatorships to mineral wealth. But even so, overall, African countries seem to have benefited from liberalization and integration into international markets.

Consider, again, the impact of tariffs. African economies today are still less open to international markets and less globally integrated than other low-income countries: tariffs in sub-Saharan Africa as a whole were no lower in the late 1990s than they had been in the mid-1980s. Thus, one reason some African states have not benefited from globalization is that, unlike China and India, they have not jumped into world markets with both feet. But where it has been implemented in Africa, freer trade has helped. Although their positive effects have been minimal so far, lower tariffs may eventually stimulate African exports in agriculture, raw materials, and even manufacturing. In highly competitive global manufactures markets, Africa’s low-wage work force will continue to offer an advantage over middle-income nations.

 

From Missing To Modernized

Counter to mainstream economic expectations, middle-income countries have struggled economically in the last two decades, and those that have opened their markets more have fared even worse. Yet a return to protectionism is unlikely to do any good. The pace and pervasiveness of technological change make it difficult, if not impossible, to put the globalization genie back in its bottle. But the formula of “more free-trade agreements”-bilaterally, regionally, and multilaterally-is unlikely to work, either.

The challenge for the middle-income world is to find ways to “tech up” and enter the global knowledge economy, so as to escape the trap of having to dumb down to compete in standardized manufacturing and, increasingly, standardized services. This will require educational reforms geared toward producing a large pool of skilled and creative labor, as well as good government, secure property rights, and strong financial systems to fight corruption and inefficiency. Such reforms would give entrepreneurs incentives to take advantage of newly minted knowledge workers, fostering innovation. But such a transformation will be expensive and difficult to execute, and the countries of Latin America and eastern Europe are not likely to be able to achieve it on their own. The transition to democracy has not itself proved the necessary catalyst. Instead, it has raised popular expectations that politicians find increasingly difficult to satisfy.

What can the West do to help? For much of eastern Europe, entry into the European Union, long and drawn out as the process of accession has been, may well be the answer. Poland, Hungary, and the other formerly communist countries that were admitted this year hope that membership will bring to them what it has brought to Greece, Portugal, and Spain over the past 20 years: access to western European markets, capital, and development assistance, as well as other, less tangible, but equally important advantages. New members must adopt the acquis communautaire of the EU: the full range of its laws, regulations, and institutions. Although it has often been derided as overly bureaucratic and sclerotic, over time, the acquis has aligned the domestic institutions of these nations with common European practice, bringing the EU’s poorest members stability, predictability, and credibility-and an environment conducive to the emergence of the knowledge economy-far more quickly than they could otherwise have expected.

Although the EU’s latest members from the east are starting from even further behind than were Greece, Portugal, and Spain, they can expect accession to help them build relatively quickly the foundations for successful competition in the knowledge economy. It goes without saying, however, that the helping hand of EU membership is not being held out to all postcommunist countries. Most conspicuously, Russia will likely remain on the outside looking in, even though it needs the shape-up that membership would bring more acutely than most of the countries that acceded this year.

Latin American nations have aggressively pursued closer economic relations with the EU, but membership is obviously not an option for them, and they have no analogous organization on the continent. NAFTA is more than a mere free trade agreement, but its rules and regulations are rudimentary compared with the EU’s. The United States, moreover, has been reluctant to extend the treaty’s reach, choosing not to integrate more deeply with its NAFTA partners or to extend the NAFTA model. Meanwhile, Latin American countries have been pushing in all directions for more free trade agreements: bilaterally, regionally, and with other parts of the world. Yet in rushing to do so on almost any terms, they risk reinforcing the damaging dynamic that trade liberalization has wrought on them and the rest of the middle-income world.

If unalloyed free-trade agreements alone cannot do the job and an EU-like organization is a pipe dream, what can be done for Latin America? The World Bank has been promoting smart development assistance, focusing on the creation of knowledge economies. So far, however, it has remained largely ineffective as an agent of change in the middle-income world. The United States recently launched the Middle East Partnership Initiative to foster educational, financial, and judicial reform in the middle-income countries of that region. Such efforts should be replicated in Latin America and all middle-income countries to counteract the economic stagnation and rising popular frustration that threaten these nations’ openness and stability.

The problem today is that U.S. policymakers have more pressing things on their mind than Latin America’s economic woes. In the early Cold War era, the Marshall Plan advanced U.S. foreign policy by creating democratic and capitalist bulwarks against communism in Europe. Bailing out Russia and Mexico also made sense in the years following the Cold War, when traditional security issues receded into the background. But since the September 11, 2001, attacks, achieving political goals through economic means has been given a much lower priority than the war on terrorism. And if a new Marshall Plan is created, it will focus on the Middle East.

The ultimate irony facing globalization’s missing middle may be that the more the free trade project founders in Latin America, the greater will be the pressure on people in the region to migrate to the United States. Migration will, in turn, squeeze employment and wages for the American manufacturing middle class even more and force the U.S. government to think creatively about growing economic problems south of its border. After all, the flow of former East Germans into western Germany motivated Chancellor Helmut Kohl to invest massively in the formerly communist part of the newly unified country. Rapid increases in the number of eastern Europeans looking to live and work in western Europe also strengthened the case for the EU’s eastern expansion. Much like East Germans did, eastern Europeans will benefit because western European investment will speed their transition to the knowledge economy. Perhaps, then, migration into the United States from Mexico and the rest of Latin America will ultimately help the continent move into the knowledge economy.

Before September 11, the disagreement over globalization was the principal fault line in world politics. Even today, ensuring that globalization’s benefits reach all parts of the world would provide a bedrock upon which peace and prosperity in the twenty-first century can be built. Unfortunately, so far the middle-income nations have been left out. The United States and the EU must help Latin America and eastern Europe develop competitive knowledge economies. This project may seem banal compared with the war on terrorism, but over time, ignoring those pushed aside by globalization will have immense implications-economically and politically.

 

Geoffrey Garrett is Vice Provost of the International Institute and Director of the Ronald W. Burkle Center for International Relations at the University of California, Los Angeles.

 

(Source: Foreign Affairs, 5 November 2004).

What is Globalization?

June 26, 2008

By Nayan Chanda

 

Globalization is a relatively new term used to describe a very old process. It is a historical process that began with our human ancestors moving out of Africa to spread all over the globe. In the millennia that have followed, distance has been largely overcome and human-made barriers lowered or removed to facilitate the exchange of goods and ideas. Propelled by the desire to improve one’s life and helped along by technology, both the interconnectedness and interdependence have grown. This increasing integration of the world or ‘globalization’ has enriched life but also created new problems.

                                         

 

The exponential growth in the exchange of goods, ideas, institutions and people that we see today is part of a long-term historical trend. Over the course of human history, the desire for something better and greater has motivated people to move themselves, their goods, and their ideas around the world.

Since the first appearance of the term in 1962 ‘globalization’ has gone from jargon to cliche. The Economist has called it “the most abused word of the 21st century.” Certainly no word in recent memory has meant so many different things to different people and has evoked as much emotion. Some see it as nirvana – a blessed state of universal peace and prosperity – while others condemn it as a new kind of chaos.

If properly defined and applied, the “g-word” actually does have some utility. It can best be understood as a leitmotif of human history. It is a trend that has intensified and accelerated in recent decades and come into full view with all its benefits and destructive power. Just as climate has shaped the environment over the millennia, the interaction among cultures and societies over tens of thousands of years has resulted in the increasing integration of what is becoming the global human community.

Globalization – defined by Webster’s dictionary as a process that renders various activities and aspirations “worldwide in scope or application” – has been underway for a long time. Thousands of years before the root word for this concept – ‘globe’ – came into use, our ancestors had already spread across the earth. In fact, the process by which they migrated and populated all the continents except Antarctica was a kind of proto-globalization. Some 50,000 years ago early forms of homo sapiens, who developed in east Africa, began to travel to the far corners of the world, including to the continents of North and South America. Rising sea levels at the end of the ice age separated the Americas from the Eurasian land mass, creating two worlds that were now cut off from each other. They would not be reconnected until Christopher Columbus’s serendipitous landing on a Caribbean island in 1492. That same year a German geographer, Martin Behaim, built the first known globe as a representation of the earth.

The reconnection was called the ‘Columbian exchange,’ and it is celebrated as a landmark in the history of globalization. The discovery of the New World brought together peoples who had been separated for over 10,000 years. No less significant has been the exchange of plants and animals. A Peruvian tuber, the potato, has become a staple throughout the world, Mexican chili pepper has taken over Asia, and an Ethiopian crop, coffee, found new homes from Brazil to Vietnam, to name just a few. In the intervening period, societies have not only evolved in radically different ways and developed different economic and political structures, but they have also invented different technologies, grown different crops and, most importantly, developed different languages and ways of thinking. That diversity makes the job of reconnecting civilizations both challenging and rewarding.

Historically there were four main motives that drove people to leave the sanctuary of their family and village: conquest (the desire to ensure security and extend political power), prosperity (the search for a better life), proselytizing (spreading the word of their God and converting others to their faith), and a more mundane but still powerful force -curiosity and wanderlust that seem basic to human nature. Therefore, the principal agents of globalization were soldiers (and sailors), traders, preachers and adventurers. Signs of trade in the dawn of civilization can be seen in old seashells carried deep into the interior of Africa. Thousands of years ago traders carried goods from one part of the globe to another across oceans. Missionaries traversed deserts and mountains and sailed the seas. The spread of Buddhism from India to Indonesia led to the creation of the Borobudur temple, which is one of the first monuments of globalization. From the Chinese Buddhist monk Faxian’s journey to India in the 4th century, to the Arab explorer Ibn Batuta’s travels to Europe, Asia and Africa a thousand years later, adventurers have continued to find new frontiers and establish connections among far-flung societies, cultures and economies. Even though travel was slow and dangerous, ambitious and acquisitive leaders – from Alexander the Great to Genghis Khan – ventured far from home and brought new lands under their sway. Conquest meant globalization in both directions, since the rulers often ended up being as influenced by those they ruled as vice versa.

The cast of characters whose drive and determination have established links of both domination and cooperation has changed with times. Small bands of traders carrying their wares on their backs or in boats have been replaced by giant enterprises, starting with the Dutch and British East India Companies in the 17th century. In place of solitary pilgrims and priests have come vast religious organizations that spread their beliefs, along with their languages, literatures and architecture. The few intrepid adventurers and travelers of past centuries who brought distant societies together have given way to thousands and even millions of refugees and immigrants fleeing across borders, as well as hundreds of millions of tourists jetting around the world. All these comings and goings deepen and broaden the connections among far parts of the world and facilitate the transmission of goods, ideas and cultures.

The commercial history of the past five hundred years is marked by other trends and transactions that have strengthened the bonds of interconnectedness. The rubber plants uprooted from the jungles of Brazil and transplanted in Malaysia by British colonialists in the first years of the 20th century provided the raw material for the tires in Henry Ford’s Model T; the indentured rubber tapper from China and India altered Malaysia’s ethnic composition forever. The introduction of new crops like corn and sweet potatoes from the New World had a dramatic impact on demography. For example, the growth of population in China, which had been held in check by the shortage of irrigable rice fields, got a boost from new crops that could be grown on marginal soil. Similarly, Chechnya’s population grew apace after the arrival of corn from the New World.

From the Roman empire, to Pax Britannica two centuries ago, to the Pax Americana of today, the power of super states has been another force changing the nature of interdependence. In the emerging global supply chain that now feeds consumer production worldwide, Western and American multinational corporations have taken a lead role.

The expanding circle of free trade has boosted economic growth and spawned a burgeoning middle class, which, in turn, has increased consumption of globally produced goods and rise in international tourism. Most striking have been the world’s two most populous countries, China and India. With rising income and greater consumption has come more personal freedom and a growing demand for accountable government. Even though the vast majority of the world population is still poor, the ideas of democracy, human rights and press freedom have spread. The percentage of countries which hold multi-party elections to choose their governments has grown from less than thirty percent in 1974 to over sixty percent of the 192 countries in the world.

The most powerful force for transmitting the ideas of democracy and human rights across borders is the revolution in information technology in the second half of the 20th century. The telephone, television and the Internet have been the key tools. In the late 19th century, it took Queen Victoria sixteen and a half hours to send a message of greeting across a transatlantic cable to President James Buchanan. Today vast amounts of information in multiple formats – text, voice, video – are transmitted at the speed of light. Moreover, a three minute call from New York to London costs less than a dime, instead of the $300 it cost in 1930. This dramatic drop in the price of telecommunications has made the benefits of the information explosion available to much of humanity.

Meanwhile, innovations like satellite television have connected people’s emotions across borders and oceans: the news of Princess Diana’s death flashing on cable TV’s immediately elicited wreathes of flowers from around the world. The free flow of information is also helping bridge the political divide: September 11 triggered a candlelight vigil among young Iranians. But it has also been hardening attitudes along ideological boundaries. The Arabic-language satellite station Al Jazeera’s live broadcast of Israeli-Palestine violence has widened the gulf between Arabs and Israelis.

The falling cost of communications and transportation has boosted economic growth while literacy and better health care have improved quality of life. People the world over are living longer and healthier lives, while the number of people living in poverty has dropped in most regions (though it has increased in Africa and South Asia).

Yet faster growth has its cost, too. The reduction in poverty worldwide has negative environmental consequences. Close to one percent of the world’s rainforest is disappearing every year because of expanding agriculture and trade in forest products. The closely knit global communication network that makes growth possible has also made the world as a whole more vulnerable to everything from disease and mischief to terror. HIV infection in humans developed in Africa and South America but has spread to the entire world, now infecting some 14,000 people each day. In 1997, in barely five hours the “I love you” computer virus released by pranksters in Manila wreaked $700 million worth of damage worldwide. The September 11 hijackers made use of electronic transfers of funds to finance their operation. They also relied on the Internet to coordinate their moves and buy airline tickets. Since the attacks, Osama Bin Laden’s favorite means of communicating with the world from his cave has been satellite TV.

Not that any of this mixture of the good and the bad is new. Throughout history, the introduction of breakthrough technologies has brought disruption, and created winners and losers. When the Old World connected with the New World through colonizers and explorers, new pathogens like small pox and influenza caused a “demographic holocaust,” killing three out of every four Native Americans. The colonization of the Americas and vast parts of Asia, Africa, the Middle East and Latin America, has destroyed traditional social structures and political power while speeding up the process of economic integration. The need for labor to mine silver and work the plantations resulted in the transfer of some 10 million slaves from Africa. On the other hand, the economies of Europe and Asia boomed, fuelled by the flow of precious metals and new commodities.

No other country has played as significant a role in reconnecting the world as the United States, itself an early product of modern globalization. A vast majority of some 60 million people who left their place of birth in the most intense period of globalization in the late 19th century went to the US. Immigrants and slaves built the richest nation in history. They drew upon world resources – starting with the water mill and steam engine technology from Britain – and emerged as a leading innovator and the most potent engine of globalization. With the American victory in the World War II Pacific arena and the launch of the Marshall plan, US economic and military power has spread to far corners of the world, culminating in the end of the Cold War. The fall of the Berlin Wall symbolized the end of a global ideological division and gave a boost to the latest burst of globalization itself. It is no wonder many around the world see – and resent – globalization as a euphemism for Americanization.

At the same time, the end of the Cold War has brought into sharper focus the other huge chasm that exists between the rich and the developing nations. While globalization has created unprecedented riches, many people have also been left mired in poverty. Industrialized countries with developed infrastructure, institutions and education, and middle income countries which opened up the economy have benefited most from globalization, but the poorest countries have not grown, or in some cases have even sunk back. Thus despite the overall fall in the rate of poverty, close to a third of the world population still lives in utter poverty without access to electricity or drinking water. The gap between the rich and the poor countries and between the wealthy and the indigent within countries has also widened. The rules of global engagement that have evolved, and the institutions that manage them – from the International Monetary Fund to the World Trade Organization – reflect the power imbalance between wealthy and poor nations.

Thanks to the wider diffusion of information, today’s have-nots are more aware of the gap between themselves and the rich West, and between themselves and Western-backed domestic elites. This consciousness can be a powerful source of resentment and protest, such as the anti-American demonstrations from Venezuela to the Philippines. Overt or subliminal political and cultural messages carried with goods, ideas and entertainment from the developed world have added to the sense of disruption in many traditional societies. Combined with the misery and misrule in many countries, the bright lights of the West lure many to seek their fortunes elsewhere. The rising tide of illegal immigrants washing over the developed countries has become a major concern. The reconnection of the world through goods and ideas has also evoked conflicting responses – from admiration to bitter nationalistic and religious resistance. While students in Iran clamor for an American-style life, many in the West oppose globalization as the symbol of iniquitous free market capitalism. Many people around the globe also see a Western-led globalization aimed at destroying Islam.

What does all this mean for globalization? Will globalization be forced to retreat in the face of growing disillusionment and dangers such as terrorists’ who abuse open borders and easy economic transactions? There is, of course, a precedent for such a decline in globalization. Between the two World Wars, free trade and the free movement of people did slow to a crawl, thanks to the raising of tariff walls and a closed door to immigration. But those restrictions did not dampen the same four basic motivations – conquest, search for prosperity, proselytizing and curiosity – that have driven globalization. The Allied victory against the Nazis and Japan, in fact, reopened the flood gates of globalization, giving a further boost to trade and travel.

To be sure, many issues could throw a wrench into the engines of international integration – issues like the growing anti-immigrant sentiment in Europe, the West’s farm subsidies and intellectual property rights concerns, and the tightened visa policies of the US since Sept. 11. However, the secular trend of people connecting with the world would be hard to reverse. The search for prosperity still drives businesses to expand beyond their borders and consumers to buy the best at an affordable price, irrespective of the country of origin. The same curiosity about others that led the likes of Ibn Batuta to leave home leads millions to travel, to watch foreign movies, eat different foods and enjoy international music and sports events. The biggest difference between the globalization of the past and that of today lies in its visibility and speed. The accelerated speed of global interaction has telescoped its impact and the global spread of the media has made it instantly visible – something that in the past happened in slow motion and often out of sight. With all its promises and pitfalls, the historical process of reconnecting the human community is here to stay and increasingly visible and increasingly a challenge. Our task – whether we are citizens, scholars or statesmen – is to understand and manage globalization, doing our best to encourage its favorable aspects and keep its negative consequences at bay.

 

Nayan Chanda is editor of YaleGlobal Online. His essay does not reflect the view of the Center for the Study of Globalization.

 

(Source: YaleGlobal, 19 November 2002)