Those contributing to the growing chorus of antihegemony and multipolarity may know they are playing a dangerous game, one that needs to be conducted with the utmost care, as French leaders did during the Cold War, lest the entire international system come crashing down around them. What they may not have adequately calculated, however, is the possibility that Americans will not respond as wisely as they generally did during the Cold War.
Americans and their leaders should not take all this sophisticated whining about U.S. hegemony too seriously. They certainly should not take it more seriously than the whiners themselves do. But, of course, Americans are taking it seriously. In the United States these days, the lugubrious guilt trip of post-Vietnam liberalism is echoed even by conservatives, with William Buckley, Samuel Huntington, and James Schlcsinger all decrying American "hubris," "arrogance," and "imperial- ism." Clinton administration officials, in between speeches exalting America as the "indispensable" nation, increasingly behave as if what is truly indispensable is the prior approval of China, France, and Russia for every military action. Moreover, at another level, there is a stirring of neo-isolationism in America today, a mood that nicely complements the view among many Europeans that America is meddling too much in everyone else's business and taking too little time to mind its own. The existence of the Soviet Union disciplined Americans and made them see that their enlightened self-interest lay in a relatively generous foreign policy. Today, that discipline is no longer present. In other words, foreign grumbling about American hegemony would be merely amusing, were it not for the very real possibility that too many Americans will forget—even if most of the rest of the world does not— just how important continued American dominance is to the preservation of a reasonable level of international security and prosperity. World leaders may want to keep this in mind when they pop the champagne corks in celebration of the next American humbling.
Link - Navy
Naval dominance is key to heg—the US has and will always want sea power and will do anything to achieve it
LaFeber, Cornell University History Department, 62
(Walter, Marie Underhill Noll Professor Emeritus of History and a Stephen H. Weiss Presidential Fellow “A Note on the "Mercantilistic Imperialism" of Alfred Thayer Mahan” pg. 676, 1962, Accessed: July 9, 2014, KS)
The most important differences between the two philosophies, however, were on the three basic issues of production, the merchant marine, and colonial empires. Both the mercantilists and Mahan emphasized production as basic, but the latter necessarily had a different approach. Ironically, the naval captain encouraged the creation of a commercial empire although the United States had no merchant marine; the mercantilists defined a merchant marine as the prerequisite to empire. Perhaps most significant, Mahan spoke less in terms of a colonial empire than of a commercial empire. The mercantilists, however, usually considered these two types of empire as sides of the same coin—a powerful nation created a commercial empire by conquering or populating a colonial empire and then shutting it off from intruders. In making these three distinctions, Mahan exemplified the consensus of American expansionists in the 1890’s. His ideas concerning production, the merchant marine, and a colonial empire, therefore, deserve closer examination.
Link – Return
Return kills security and power projection
Harris, University of Texas at Austin Government Department Professor, 14
(Peter is a Professor in the Department of Government at University of Texas at Austin, January 2014, International Politics, “A political trilemma? International security, environmental protection and human rights in the British Indian Ocean Territory” Accessed: July 12, 2014, KS)
With these words, Miliband maintained that resettlement of the Chagos Islands would jeopardise the functionality of the US base on Diego Garcia. Based on this premise, Miliband portrayed the islanders’ continued exile as a necessary evil, a regrettable yet unavoidable consequence of UK (and US) defence and security needs. In private, FCO officials have been markedly less contrite, explicitly denying any regret for the removal of the Chagossians (Evans and Norton-Taylor, 2010). Both the public and private positions of the UK government, however, are essentially restatements of the official US stance regarding resettlement, which is that ‘an attempt to resettle any of the islands of the Chagos Archipelago would severely compromise Diego Garcia’s unparalleled security and have a deleterious impact on our military operations’ (quoted in Sand, 2009b, p. 31). Because the provision of UK territory for military bases such as Diego Garcia is a key component of the so-called special relationship, these statements reveal the extent to which the overarching architecture of the bilateral Anglo-American alliance relies upon the micro-foundational organization of local politics in ways congruent with the UK-US governments’ objectives.
Impact – Genocide
No alternative can solve genocide or human rights like hegemony can
Gitlin professor of journalism and sociology 3
[Todd, chair of the Ph.D. program in Communications at Columbia University, 7/14 “Goodbye, New World Order: Keep the Global Ideal Alive", MotherJones.Com, http://www.motherjones.com/commentary/gitlin/2003/07/we_478_01.html, Accessed: July 12, 2014, KS]
The point is that this would be a terrible time to give up on internationalism. The simple fact that the US proved victorious in Iraq does not alter the following chain of truths:To push the world toward democratic rights, power must be legitimate; it is only legitimate if it is held to be legitimate; it is very unlikely to be legitimate if it is unilateral or close to unilateral; and the wider the base of power, the more likely it is to appear legitimate. Bush may have no doubt that American armed force in the Middle East is legitimate, and right now Americans may agree, but that won't do. Common sense alone should tell us not to overreach. Even with the best intentions in the world -- which hundreds of millions doubt -- the United States is simply not up to the global mission that the Bush administration embraces. This nation hasn't the staying power, the economic strength, the knowledge, the wisdom, or the legitimacy to command the continents. It is sheerest delusion to think otherwise.
Meanwhile, it is an irony of the recent past that as the United States has lost prestige, the United Nations has gained it -- at least outside our borders. For all its demonstrable flaws, it retains some credibility -- no small thing in a world growing more anarchic. Even the U. N.'s sharpest critics concede that it learns from its mistakes. Having failed miserably to stop ethnic cleansing in Bosnia and Rwanda, it started talking about the need to keep constabulary forces at the ready. Having been assigned much of the world's dirty work -- peacekeeping, public health, refugee and humanitarian aid -- its institutions accumulate the lore of experience. Resolution 1441, which the Security Council passed unanimously last year, might even be interpreted, strange to say, as a step forward in the enforcement of international law, for if the U. S. had been more adroit and patient diplomatically, the French and others could have been nudged into signing onto limited force a few months hence. In the end, the organization failed to prevent war, but its hopes have never been more necessary, its resurrection more indispensable.
If internationalism is toothless, right now, that's not an argument against internationalist principle; it's an argument for implanting teeth. If what's left on the East River is nothing but a clunky hulk, there was still enough prestige left in the hulk that George W. Bush, master unilateralist, felt impelled to dally with the Security Council -- however reluctantly, however deceptively -- for months. No less a figure than his father's consigliore and former Secretary of State James W. Baker urged that course upon the president last summer. Going the Security Council route was the tribute George W. Bush paid to internationalism -- before underscoring his contempt for it by going to war on his own schedule.
This is not the first time an international assembly of nation-states has failed abjectly to prove its mettle. Indeed, in 1945, the UN itself was built atop the site of an earlier breakdown. The rubble of the collapsed League of Nations, which had failed to arrest blatant aggression by Italy, Japan, and Germany, had to be cleared away before the UN could rise from the ashes.
Yet rise it did. And people were inspired -- and frightened -- by it. Even as a spectral presence, the UN was substantial enough to arouse right-wingers to put up billboards urging the US to flee its clutches. Recently, George W. Bush fondly remembered those signs, conspicuous around Midland, Texas, during his early years. To Midland's America Firsters, the U. N. had a reputation as demonic as it was, to this writer, benign. In the General Assembly building, which my friends and I frequented in high school, the ceiling was left unfinished -- to signal, we were told, that world peace was unfinished. What if the symbolism was indeed a pointer toward a different order of things?
It is not always easy to tell the difference between dead symbols and promising ones. Push came to shove, and the UN was mainly an intimation -- at most an inspiration. Neither as peacemaker nor peacekeeper was it the world government-in-the-making that some desired and others feared. It was a force in Korea only because the Russians agreed not to play. It was useless in Vietnam. During the endless Israel-Palestine war, it has been bootless. In the 1990s, it failed miserably to stop Serb aggression in Bosnia and Kosovo. It stood by during the Rwandan genocide, too, though its own military commander on the scene, Canadian General Romeo Dallaire, pleaded desperately for UN reinforcements. You can see why realists like to smirk and claim it's hopelessly idealistic to think that the UN could ever amount to anything more than a debating society whose main achievement has been to reserve a lot of Manhattan parking spots.
Interestingly, Dallaire, who was shattered by UN failure in Rwanda, does not sneer. In retirement, he continues campaigning to strengthen world governance. "You can't on one side, say the UN is screwing it up and we're going to go to war, and on other side not give the UN the resources," he said recently. "It is not the UN that failed [in Iraq]. But it is the permanent five [members of the Security Council] in particular. If they don't want the UN to be effective, it won't be." Pause with this elementary observation a moment. The reasons for the UN's weakness are several, but not the least is that -- no surprise here -- the most powerful nations want it weak. They like the principle of national sovereignty, and then some, as the recent war amply demonstrates. It will take a long, steady, popular campaign to override the inhibitions.
Campaigners might start by underscoring some modest successes. For all the impediments thrown in its way -- and not only by the US -- the UN has done constructive work. It helped restore decent governments in Cambodia, East Timor, and Bosnia. It helps keep the peace on the Golan Heights. On a thousand unnoticed fronts, it daily comes to the aid of refugees, the sick, the malnourished. A top UN official recently told me that Secretary General Kofi Annan was inches away from a partition-ending deal in long-suffering Cyprus, only to lose momentum with the distraction of the Bush-Saddam confrontation. In Afghanistan and Iraq, we need not less of the UN, but much more -- more efficient, better led, better funded. Rebuild The Destroyed Nations: Now there's an agenda for a peace movement.
But much of the global movement that sprang up to oppose the Iraq war proceeded to subside into easy chants of "US Out" -- an analogue to the right wing's "US Out of the UN." This sort of short-circuit unilateralism begs the tough questions about the uses (as well as abuses) of international intervention. "US Out" resounds more ringingly if you refrain from thinking about what actual Afghans and actual Iraqis need -- constitutional rights, law enforcement, infrastructure. Protest has its time and place, but what's needed now is politics -- politics to plan the unilateralists' exit from office, combined with practical pressure, here and now, to solve practical problems. We must not permit ourselves to retreat noisily into protest's good night.
Most of all, internationalism needs more than a nudge here and there -- it needs a jump-start, a riveting proof that multilateral action can change facts on the ground. Here's one idea: What if the UN and Europe decided to take on the toughest assignment? There is no more stringent test for internationalism's future than what seems the world's most intractable trauma: The endless Israel-Palestine war, which has outlasted a thousand manifestos, plans, meetings about meetings. The new postwar situation might just be promising, the Bush administration just possibly susceptible to pressure. Practical, peace-seeking Jews and Palestinians ought to get in on the pressure; so should Europeans looking for payback, not least Tony Blair.
And we ought to be thinking of a practical role for a UN, or joint UN-NATO constabulary. As Tony Klug of Britain's Council for Jewish-Palestinian Dialogue has pointed out on openDemocracy.net, the two bloodied, intertwined, myopic peoples need far more than a road map: they need enforcement. Klug's idea is an international protectorate for the West Bank and Gaza. Some combination of the UN, NATO, and various national forces would play various parts. The point would be to supplant the Israeli occupation, relieve the immediate suffering, and guarantee secure borders.
Such a scheme would seem to have taken leave of this earth. The U. S. won't permit it....Sharon won't permit it....The Europeans won't pay for it....The Israelis won't trust the UN, or the Palestinians, who won't trust the Israeli. But what is the alternative? More living nightmares? Occupation and massacre in perpetuity?
Military enforcement on a global scale has been left to ad hoc coalitions -- sometimes with blue helmets, sometimes not. That won't do. To put human rights on the ground, avert genocides to come, and -- not incidentally -- help protect the United States from the more vengeful of empire's resentful subjects (funny, their not understanding how good our power is for them), we need a more muscular global authority -- including a global constabulary. Imagine, say, a flexible force permitted to commit, say, 10,000 troops if a simple majority, eight members, of the Security Council signed on, but expandable to 50,000 if the vote were unanimous. Wouldn't Europe have been in a stronger position to avert Bush's war if such a force had been in readiness to enforce resolutions of the Security Council? A wise superpower would know it needs to share responsibility -- which entails sharing the force that makes responsibility real.
Of course such a denouement is scarcely around the corner, nor is there any guarantee that it is destined to come at all. Like the abolition of slavery, or the unity of Europe, it surely will not come without pain or error, nor will it be the work of a single generation. But again, what is the alternative? Tyranny and unilateralism; hubris and mile-high resentment. In the world as it is, effective moral force cannot preclude military force. If internationalists don't press more strongly for international law and multilateralist order, one thing is certain: we shall be left with protests, playing catch-up forever, waiting for "told you so" moments. "No" is not a foreign policy. Coupled with the properly skeptical "no" must be the transformative "yes" -- not a grudging, perfunctory afterthought, but international law with enforcers; not empire, but human rights with guns.
Intervention by force is the only way of achieving humanitarianism—it’s been empirically proven since the Holocaust
Wheeler, University of Birmingham International Politics Professor, 2k
(Dr. Nicholas J, “Saving Strangers: Humanitarian Intervention in International Society”, Oxford University Press, KS)
The dilemma of what to do about strangers who are subjected to appalling cruelty by their governments has remained with us throughout the post-1945 world. While the question remains the same, the normative context has changed markedly. As a result of the international legal obligations written into the United Nations system, clear limits were set on how governments could treat their citizens.' For the first time in the history of modern inter- national society, the domestic conduct of governments was now exposed to scrutiny by other governments, human rights non-governmental organizations (NGOs), and international organizations. But the new human rights regime was severely limited by the weaknesses of its enforcement mechanisms. The UN Charter restricts the right to use force on the part of individual states to purposes of self-defence, and it was widely accepted during the cold war that the use of force to save victims of gross human rights abuses was a violation of the Charter. The Security Council is empowered under the Chapter VII provisions of the Charter to authorize the use of force to maintain 'international peace and security', but there is considerable controversy about how far this permits the Council to authorize intervention to stop humanitarian emergencies taking place inside state borders.
This gap between normative commitments and instruments allows governments to abuse human rights with virtual impunity, intervention by force might be the only means of enforcing the global humanitariannorms that have evolved in the wake of the Holocaust, but this fundamentally challenges the established principles of non-intervention and non-use of force. This dilemma is one that leaves stale leaders nowhere to hide.2 'Doing something' to rescue non-citizens facing the extreme is likely to provoke the charge of interference in the internal affairs of another state, while 'doing nothing' can lead to accusations of moral indifference.
Impact – Turns case
Loss of hegemony makes us militantly aggressive
Ikenberry, Princeton IR Professor, ‘4,
(John G., March/April, “Illusions of Empire: Defining” Foreign Affairs, HYPERLINK "http://www.globalpolicy.org/empire/analysis/2004/03illusions.htm" www.globalpolicy.org/empire/analysis/2004/03illusions.htm Accessed: July 11, 2014, KS)
Two implications follow from the United States' strange condition as "economically dependent and politically useless." First, the United States is becoming a global economic predator, sustaining itself through an increasingly fragile system of "tribute taking." It has lost the ability to couple its own economic gain with the economic advancement of other societies. Second, a weakened United States will resort to more desperate and aggressive actions to retain its hegemonic position. Todd identifies this impulse behind confrontations with Iraq, Iran, and North Korea. Indeed, in his most dubious claim, Todd argues that the corruption of U.S. democracy is giving rise to a poorly supervised ruling class that will be less restrained in its use of military force against other democracies, those in Europe included. For Todd, all of this points to the disintegration of the American empire. Todd is correct that the ability of any state to dominate the international system depends on its economic strength. As economic dominance shifts, American unipolarity will eventually give way to a new distribution of power. But, contrary to Todd's diagnosis, the United States retains formidable socioeconomic advantages. And his claim that a rapacious clique of frightened oligarchs has taken over U.S. democracy is simply bizarre. Most important, Todd's assertion that Russia and other great powers are preparing to counterbalance U.S. power misses the larger patterns of geopolitics. Europe, Japan, Russia, and China have sought to engage the United States strategically, not simply to resist it. They are pursuing influence and accommodation within the existing order, not trying to overturn it. In fact, the great powers worry more about a detached, isolationist United States than they do about a United States bent on global rule. Indeed, much of the pointed criticism of U.S. unilateralism reflects a concern that the United States will stop providing security and stability, not a hope that it will decline and disappear.
State behavior is driven by security competition according to the dictates of offensive realism. Critical theory does not have the ability to unseat realism as the dominant discourse of IR
John J. Mearsheimer, Professor of Political Science at the University of Chicago,, 1995
[John J., “The Tragedy of Great Power Politics”, International Security, Vol. 20, No.1, Summer 1995, pp. 82-93, 7-18-14, JY]
Realists believe that state behavior is largely shaped by the material structure of the international system. The distribution of material capabilities among states is the key factor for understanding world politics. For realists, some level of security competition among great powers is inevitable because of the material structure of the international system. Individuals are free to adopt non-realist discourses, but in the final analysis, the system forces states to behave according to the dictates of realism, or risk destruction. Critical theorists, on the other hand, focus on the social structure of the international system. They believe that "world politics is socially constructed," which is another way of saying that shared discourse, or how communities of individuals think and talk about the world, largely shapes the world. Wendt recognizes that "material resources like gold and tanks exist," but he argues that "such capabilities . . . only acquire meaning for human action through the structure of shared knowledge in which they are embedded." Significantly for critical theorists, discourse can change, which means that realism is not forever, and that therefore it might be possible to move beyond realism to a world where institutionalized norms cause states to behave in more communitarian and peaceful ways. The most revealing aspect of Wendt's discussion is that he did not respond to the two main charges leveled against critical theory in "False Promise." The first problem with critical theory is that although the theory is deeply concerned with radically changing state behavior, it says little about how change comes about. The theory does not tell us why particular discourses become dominant, and others fall by the wayside. Specifically, Wendt does not explain why realism has been the dominant discourse in world politics for well over a thousand years, although I explicitly raised this question in "False Promise" (p. 42). Moreover, he sheds no light on why the time is ripe for unseating realism, nor on why realism is likely to be replaced by a more peaceful, communitarian discourse, although I explicitly raised both questions. Wendt's failure to answer these questions has important ramifications for his own arguments. For example, he maintains that if it is possible to change international political discourse and alter state behavior, "then it is irresponsible to pursue policies that perpetuate destructive old orders [i.e., realism], especially if we care about the well-being of future generations." The clear implication here is that realists like me are irresponsible and do not care much about the welfare of future generations. However, even if we change discourses and move beyond realism, a fundamental problem with Wendt's argument remains: because his theory cannot predict the future, he cannot know whether the discourse that ultimately replaces realism will be more benign than realism. He has no way of knowing whether a fascistic discourse more violent than realism will emerge as the hegemonic discourse. For example, he obviously would like another Gorbachev to come to power in Russia, but he cannot be sure we will not get a Zhirinovsky instead. So even from a critical theory perspective, defending realism might very well be the more responsible policy choice. The second major problem with critical theory is that its proponents have offered little empirical support for their theory. For example, I noted in "False Promise" that critical theorists concede that realism has been the dominant discourse in international politics from about 1300 to 1989, a remarkably long period of time. Wendt does not challenge this description of the historical record by pointing to alternative discourses that influenced state behavior during this period. In fact, Wendt's discussion of history is obscure. I also noted in "False Promise" that although critical theorists largely concede the past to realism, many believe that the end of the Cold War presents an excellent opportunity to replace realism as the hegemonic discourse, and thus fundamentally change state behavior. I directly challenged this assertion in my article, but Wendt responds with only a few vague words about this issue. Wendt writes in his response that "if critical theories fail, this will be because they do not explain how the world works, not because of their values." I agree completely, but critical theorists have yet to provide evidence that their theory can explain very much. In fact, the distinguishing feature of the critical theory literature, Wendt's work included, is its lack of empirical content. Possibly that situation will change over time, but until it does, critical theory will not topple realism from its commanding position in the international relations literature.
Prefer the aff’s realism – it’s the prerequisite to human behavior.
Thayer, Head of the Department of Political Science at. Utah State University, 2004
[Bradley A., “Darwin and International Relations: On the Evolutionary Origins of War and Ethnic Conflict”, pages 10-12, 7-18-14, JY]
Bringing Darwin into the study of international relations means examining its major questions and issues through the lens of evolutionary biology Of course, scholars of international relations have imported ideas from other disciplines before. They have used both psychological theories and formal modeling largely borrowed from economics to advance our understanding of important issues in the discipline. The application of evolutionary biology may generate equally important insights." The central question of this book is to show how evolutionary biology and, particularly evolutionary theory can contribute to some of the major theories and issues of international relations. While the discipline of international relations has existed for many years without evolutionary biology, the latter should be incorporated into the discipline because it improves the understanding of warfare, ethnic conflict, decision making, and other issues. Evolution explains how humans evolved during the late-Pliocene, Pleistocene, and Holocene epochs, and how human evolution affects human behavior today All students of human behavior mustac knowledge that our species has spent over 99 percent of its evolutionary history largely as hunter-gatherers in those epochs. Darwin's natural selection argument (and its modifications) coupled with those conditions means that humans evolved behaviors well adapted to radically different evolutionary conditions than many humans for example, those living in industrial democracies face today. We must keep in mind that the period most social scientists think of as human history or civilization, perhaps the last three thousand years, represents only the blink of an eye in human evolution. As evolutionary biologist Paul Ehrlich argues, evolution should be measured in terms of "generation time," rather than "clock time."" Looking at human history in this way hunting and gathering was the basic hominid way of life for about 250,000 generations, agriculture has been in practice for about 400 generations, and modern industrial societies have only existed for about 8 generations. Thus Ehrlich Ends it reasonable to assume "that to whatever degree humanity has been shaped by genetic evolution, it has largely been to adapt to hunting and gathering-to the lifestyles of our pre-agricultural ancestors. Thus, to understand completely much of human behavior we must first comprehend how evolution affected humans in the past and continues to affect them in the present. The conditions of 250,000 generations do have an impact on the last. Unfortunately; social scientists, rarely recognizing this relationship, have explained human behavior with a limited repertoire of arguments. ln this book I seek to expand the repertoire. My central argument is that evolutionary biology contributes significantly to theories used in international relations and to the causes of war and ethnic conflict."The benefits of such interdisciplinary scholarship are great, but to gain them requires a precise and ordered discussion of evolutionary theory an explanation of when it is appropriate to apply evolutionary theory to issues and events studied by social scientists, as well as an analysis of the major-and misplaced-critiques of evolutionary theory I discuss these issues in chapter. In chapter 2,1 explain how evolutionary theory contributes to the realist theory of international relations and to rational choice analysis. First, realism, like the Darwinian view of the natural world, submits that international relations is a competitive and dangerous realm, where statesmen must strive to protect the interests of their state through an almost constant appraisal of their state's power relative to others. In sum, they must behave egoistically, putting the interests of their state before the interests of others or international society. Traditional realist arguments rest principally on one of two discrete ultimate causes, or intellectual foundations of the theory." The first is Reinhold Niebuhr's argument that humans are evil. The second, anchored in the thought of Thomas Hobbes and Hans Morgenthau, is that humans possess an innate animus dominant-a drive to dominate. From these foundations, Niebuhr and Morgenthau argue that what is true for the individual is also true of the state: because individuals are evil or possess a drive to dominate, so too do states because their leaders are individuals who have these motivations. I argue that realists have a much stronger foundation for the realist argument than that used by either Morgenthau or Niebuhr. My intent is to present an alternative ultimate cause of classical realism: evolutionary theory The use of evolutionary theory allows realism to be scientifically grounded for the first time, because evolution explains egoism. Thus a scientific explanation provides a better foundation for their arguments than either theology or meta-physics. Moreover, evolutionary theory can anchor the branch of realism termed offensive realism and advanced most forcefully by John Mearshcimer. He argues that the anarchy of the international system, the fact that there is no world government, forces leaders of states to strive to maximize their relative power in order to be secure." I argue that theorists of international relations must recognize that human evolution occurred in an anarchic environment and that this explains why leaders act as offensive realism predicts. Humans evolved in anarchic conditions, and the implications of this are profound for theories of human behavior. It is also important to note at this point that my argument does not depend upon "anarchy" as it is traditionally used in the discipline-as the ordering principle of the post-1648 Westphalian state system. When human evolution is used to ground offensive realism, it immediately becomes a more powerful theory than is currently recognized. lt explains more than just state behavior; it begins to explain human behavior. lt applies equally to non-state actors, be they individuals, tribes, or organizations. More over, it explains this behavior before the creation of the modern state system. Offensive realists do not need an anarchic state system to advance their argument. They only need humans. Thus, their argument applies equally well before or after 1648, whenever humans form groups, be they tribes in Papua New Guinea, conflicting city-states in ancient Greece, organizations like the Catholic Church, or contemporary states in international relations.
AT: Threat Construction
There’s no impact to constructing threats
Posner, Professor of Law at the University of Chicago Law School and Vermeule, Professor of Law at Harvard Law School, 2003
[Eric A., Kirkland and Ellis, “Accommodating Emergencies,” Public Law and Legal Theory Working Paper No. 48, http://www.law.uchicago.edu/files/files/48.eap-av.emergency.pdf]
Against the view that panicked government officials overreact to an emergency, and unnecessarily curtail civil liberties, we suggest a more constructive theory of the role of fear. Before the emergency, government officials are complacent. They do not think clearly or vigorously about the potential threats faced by the nation. After the terrorist attack or military intervention, their complacency is replaced by fear. Fear stimulates them to action. Action may be based on good decisions or bad: fear might cause officials to exaggerate future threats, but it also might arouse them to threats that they would otherwise not perceive. It is impossible to say in the abstract whether decisions and actions provoked by fear are likely to be better than decisions and actions made in a state of calm. But our limited point is that there is no reason to think that the fear-inspired decisions are likely to be worse. For that reason, the existence of fear during emergencies does not support the antiaccommodation theory that the Constitution should be enforced as strictly during emergencies as during non-emergencies.C. The Influence of Fear during Emergencies Suppose now that the simple view of fear is correct, and that it is an unambiguously negative influence on government decisionmaking. Critics of accommodation argue that this negative influence of fear justifies skepticism about emergency policies and strict enforcement of the Constitution. However, this argument is implausible. It is doubtful that fear, so understood, has more influence on decisionmaking during emergencies than decisionmaking during non-emergencies.The panic thesis, implicit in much scholarship though rarely discussed in detail, holds that citizens and officials respond to terrorism and war in the same way that an individual in the jungle responds to a tiger or snake. The national response to emergency, because it is a standard fear response, is characterized by the same circumvention of ordinary deliberative processes: thus, (i) the response is instinctive rather than reasoned, and thus subject to error; and (ii) the error will be biased in the direction of overreaction. While the flight reaction was a good evolutionary strategy on the savannah, in a complex modern society the flight response is not suitable and can only interfere with judgment. Its advantage—speed—has minimal value for social decisionmaking. No national emergency requires an immediate reaction—except by trained professionals who execute policies established earlier—but instead over days, months, or years people make complex judgments about the appropriate institutional response. And the asymmetrical nature of fear guarantees that people will, during a national emergency, overweight the threat and underweight other things that people value, such as civil liberties. But if decisionmakers rarely act immediately, then the tiger story cannot bear the metaphoric weight that is placed on it. Indeed, the flight response has nothing to do with the political response to the bombing of Pearl Harbor or the attack on September 11. The people who were there—the citizens and soldiers beneath the bombs, the office workers in the World Trade Center—no doubt felt fear, and most of them probably responded in the classic way. They experienced the standard physiological effects, and (with the exception of trained soldiers and security officials) fled without stopping to think. It is also true that in the days and weeks after the attacks, many people felt fear, although not the sort that produces a irresistible urge to flee. But this kind of fear is not the kind in which cognition shuts down. (Some people did have more severe mental reactions and, for example, shut themselves in their houses, but these reactions were rare.) The fear is probably better described as a general anxiety or jumpiness, an anxiety that was probably shared by government officials as well as ordinary citizens.53While, as we have noted, there is psychological research suggesting that normal cognition partly shuts down in response to an immediate threat, we are aware of no research suggesting that people who feel anxious about a non-immediate threat are incapable of thinking, or thinking properly, or systematically overweight the threat relative to other values. Indeed, it would be surprising to find research that clearly distinguished “anxious thinking” and “calm thinking,” given that anxiety is a pervasive aspect of life. People are anxious about their children; about their health; about their job prospects; about their vacation arrangements; about walking home at night. No one argues that people’s anxiety about their health causes them to take too many precautions—to get too much exercise, to diet too aggressively, to go to the doctor too frequently—and to undervalue other things like leisure. So it is hard to see why anxiety about more remote threats, from terrorists or unfriendly countries with nuclear weapons, should cause the public, or elected officials, to place more emphasis on security than is justified, and to sacrifice civil liberties.
Responding to threats is necessary – the alternative is isolationist pacifism
Schweller, Professor of Political Science at the OSU, 2004
[Randall, Unanswered threats: political constraints on the balance of power, 7-18-14, JY}
Balancing behavior requires the existence of a strong consensus among elites that an external threat exists and must be checked by either arms or allies or both. As the proximate causal variable in the model, elite consensus is the most necessary of necessary causes of balancing behavior. Thus, when there is no elite consensus, the prediction is either unbalancing or some other nonbalancing policy option. Developing such a consensus is difficult, however, because balancing, unlike expansion, is not a behavior motivated by the search for gains and profit. It is instead a strategy that entails significant costs in human and material resources that could be directed toward domestic programs and investment rather than national defense. In addition, when alliances are formed, the state must sacrifice some measure of its autonomy in foreign and military policy to its allies. In the absence of a clear majority of elites in favor of a balancing strategy, therefore, an alternative policy, and not necessarily a coherent one, will prevail. This is because a weak grand strategy can be supported for many different reasons (e.g., pacifism, isolationism, pro-enemy sympathies, collective security, a belief in conciliation, etc.). Consequently, appeasement and other forms of underbalancing will tend to triumph in the absence of a determined and broad political consensus to balance simply because these policies represent the path of least domestic resistance and can appeal to a broad range of interests along the political spectrum. Thus, underreacting to threats, unlike an effective balancing strategy, does not require overwhelming, united, and coherent support from elites and masses; it is a default strategy.
AT: Aff Can Do Soft Power
It’s the same thing as and still serves to prop up those kinds of hegemony you criticize
Chomsky, Massachusetts Institute of Technology Linguistics Professor, 8
(Noam, September, Monthly Review, Volume 60, Issue 04, “Humanitarian Imperialism: The New Doctrine of Imperial Right”, http://monthlyreview.org/2008/09/01/humanitarian-imperialism-the-new-doctrine-of-imperial-right/, Accessed: July 13, 2014, KS)
Jean Bricmont’s concept “humanitarian imperialism” succinctly captures a dilemma that has faced Western leaders and the Western intellectual community since the collapse of the Soviet Union. From the origins of the Cold War, there was a reflexive justification for every resort to force and terror, subversion and economic strangulation: the acts were undertaken in defense against what John F. Kennedy called “the monolithic and ruthless conspiracy” based in the Kremlin (or sometimes in Beijing), a force of unmitigated evil dedicated to extending its brutal sway over the entire world.The formula covered just about every imaginable case of intervention, no matter what the facts might be. But with the Soviet Union gone, either the policies would have to change, or new justifications would have to be devised. It became clear very quickly which course would be followed, casting new light on what had come before, and on the institutional basis of policy.
The end of the Cold War unleashed an impressive flow of rhetoric assuring the world that the West would now be free to pursue its traditional dedication to freedom, democracy, justice, and human rights unhampered by superpower rivalry, though there were some—called “realists” in international relations theory—who warned that in “granting idealism a near exclusive hold on our foreign policy,” we may be going too far and might harm our interests.1 Such notions as “humanitarian intervention” and “the responsibility to protect” soon came to be salient features of Western discourse on policy, commonly described as establishing a “new norm” in international affairs.
The millennium ended with an extraordinary display of self-congratulation on the part of Western intellectuals, awe-struck at the sight of the “idealistic new world bent on ending inhumanity,” which had entered a “noble phase” in its foreign policy with a “saintly glow” as for the first time in history a state is dedicated to “principles and values,” acting from “altruism” and “moral fervor” alone as the leader of the “enlightened states,” hence free to use force where its leaders “believe it to be just”—only a small sample of a deluge from respected liberal voices.2
Several questions immediately come to mind. First, how does the self-image conform to the historical record prior to the end of the Cold War? If it does not, then what reason would there be to expect a sudden dedication to “granting idealism a near exclusive hold on our foreign policy,” or any hold at all? And how in fact did policies change with the superpower enemy gone? A prior question is whether such considerations should even arise.
There are two views about the significance of the historical record. The attitude of those who celebrate the “emerging norms” is expressed clearly by one of their most distinguished scholar/advocates, international relations professor Thomas Weiss: critical examination of the record, he writes, is nothing more than “sound-bites and invectives about Washington’s historically evil foreign policy,” hence “easy to ignore.”3
A conflicting stance is that policy decisions substantially flow from institutional structures, and since these remain stable, examination of the record provides valuable insight into the “emerging norms” and the contemporary world. That is the stance that Bricmont adopts in his study of “the ideology of human rights,” and that I will adopt here.
There is no space for a review of the record, but just to illustrate, let us keep to the Kennedy administration, the left-liberal extreme of the political spectrum, with an unusually large component of liberal intellectuals in policy-making positions. During these years, the standard formula was invoked to justify the invasion of South Vietnam in 1962, laying the basis for one of the great crimes of the twentieth century.
By then the U.S.-imposed client regime could no longer control the indigenous resistance evoked by massive state terror, which had killed tens of thousands of people. Kennedy therefore sent the U.S. Air Force to begin regular bombing of South Vietnam, authorized napalm and chemical warfare to destroy crops and ground cover, and initiated the programs that drove millions of South Vietnamese peasants to urban slums or to camps where they were surrounded by barbed wire to “protect” them from the South Vietnamese resistance forces that they were supporting, as Washington knew. All in defense against the two Great Satans, Russia and China, or the “Sino-Soviet axis.”4
In the traditional domains of U.S. power, the same formula led to Kennedy’s shift of the mission of the Latin American military from “hemispheric defense”—a holdover from the Second World War—to “internal security.” The consequences were immediate. In the words of Charles Maechling—who led U.S. counterinsurgency and internal defense planning through the Kennedy and early Johnson years—U.S. policy shifted from toleration “of the rapacity and cruelty of the Latin American military” to “direct complicity” in their crimes, to U.S. support for “the methods of Heinrich Himmler’s extermination squads.”
One critical case was the Kennedy administration’s preparation of the military coup in Brazil to overthrow the mildly social democratic Goulart government. The planned coup took place shortly after Kennedy’s assassination, establishing the first of a series of vicious National Security States and setting off a plague of repression throughout the continent that lasted through Reagan’s terrorist wars that devastated Central America in the 1980s. With the same justification, Kennedy’s 1962 military mission to Colombia advised the government to resort to “paramilitary, sabotage and/or terrorist activities against known communist proponents,” actions that “should be backed by the United States.” In the Latin American context, the phrase “known communist proponents” referred to labor leaders, priests organizing peasants, human rights activists, in fact anyone committed to social change in violent and repressive societies.
These principles were quickly incorporated into the training and practices of the military. The respected president of the Colombian Permanent Committee for Human Rights, former Minister of Foreign Affairs Alfredo Vásquez Carrizosa, wrote that the Kennedy administration “took great pains to transform our regular armies into counterinsurgency brigades, accepting the new strategy of the death squads,” ushering in what is known in Latin America as the National Security Doctrine,…not defense against an external enemy, but a way to make the military establishment the masters of the game [with] the right to combat the internal enemy, as set forth in the Brazilian doctrine, the Argentine doctrine, the Uruguayan doctrine, and the Colombian doctrine: it is the right to fight and to exterminate social workers, trade unionists, men and women who are not supportive of the establishment, and who are assumed to be communist extremists. And this could mean anyone, including human rights activists such as myself.
In 2002, an Amnesty International mission to protect human rights defenders worldwide began with a visit to Colombia, chosen because of its extreme record of state-backed violence against these courageous activists, as well as labor leaders, more of whom were killed in Colombia than in the rest of the world combined, not to speak of campesinos, indigenous people, and Afro-Colombians, the most tragic victims. As a member of the delegation, I was able to meet with a group of human rights activists in Vásquez Carrizosa’s heavily guarded home in Bogotá, hearing their painful reports and later taking testimonials in the field, a shattering experience.
The same formula sufficed for the campaign of subversion and violence that placed newly independent Guyana under the rule of the cruel dictator Forbes Burnham. It was also invoked to justify Kennedy’s campaigns against Cuba after the failed Bay of Pigs invasion. In his biography of Robert Kennedy, the eminent liberal historian and Kennedy advisor Arthur Schlesinger writes that the task of bringing “the terrors of the earth” to Cuba was assigned by the president to his brother, Robert Kennedy, who took it as his highest priority. The terrorist campaign continued at least through the 1990s, though in later years the U.S. government did not carry out the terrorist operations itself but only provided support for them and a haven for terrorists and their commanders, among them the notorious Orlando Bosch and joining him recently, Luis Posada Carilles. Commentators have been polite enough not to remind us of the Bush Doctrine: “those who harbor terrorists are as guilty as the terrorists themselves” and must be treated accordingly, by bombing and invasion; a doctrine that has “unilaterally revoked the sovereignty of states that provide sanctuary to terrorists,” Harvard international affairs specialist Graham Allison observes, and has “already become a de facto rule of international relations”—with the usual exceptions.
Internal documents of the Kennedy-Johnson years reveal that a leading concern in the case of Cuba was its “successful defiance” of U.S. policies tracing back to the Monroe Doctrine of 1823, which declared (but could not yet implement) U.S. control over the hemisphere. It was feared that Cuba’s “successful defiance,” particularly if accompanied by successful independent development, might encourage others suffering from comparable conditions to pursue a similar path, the rational version of the domino theory that is a persistent feature of policy formation. For that reason, the documentary record reveals, it was necessary to punish the civilian population severely until they overthrew the offending government.
This is a bare sample of a few years of intervention under the most liberal U.S. administration, justified to the public in defensive terms. The broader record is much the same. With similar pretexts, the Russian dictatorship justified its harsh control of its Eastern European dungeon.
The reasons for intervention, subversion, terror, and repression are not obscure. They are summarized accurately by Patrice McSherry in the most careful scholarly study of Operation Condor, the international terrorist operation established with U.S. backing in Pinochet’s Chile: “the Latin American militaries, normally acting with the support of the U.S. government, overthrew civilian governments and destroyed other centers of democratic power in their societies (parties, unions, universities, and constitutionalist sectors of the armed forces) precisely when the class orientation of the state was about to change or was in the process of change, shifting state power to non-elite social sectors…Preventing such transformations of the state was a key objective of Latin American elites, and U.S. officials considered it a vital national security interest as well.”5
It is easy to demonstrate that what are termed “national security interests” have only an incidental relation to the security of the nation, though they have a very close relation to the interests of dominant sectors within the imperial state, and to the general state interest of ensuring obedience.
The United States is an unusually open society. Hence there is no difficulty documenting the leading principles of global strategy since the Second World War. Even before the United States entered the war, high-level planners and analysts concluded that in the postwar world the United States should seek “to hold unquestioned power,” acting to ensure the “limitation of any exercise of sovereignty” by states that might interfere with its global designs. They recognized further that “the foremost requirement” to secure these ends was “the rapid fulfillment of a program of complete rearmament,” then as now a central component of “an integrated policy to achieve military and economic supremacy for the United States.” At the time, these ambitions were limited to “the non-German world,” which was to be organized under the U.S. aegis as a “Grand Area,” including the Western hemisphere, the former British Empire, and the Far East. As Russia beat back the Nazi armies after Stalingrad, and it became increasingly clear that Germany would be defeated, the plans were extended to include as much of Eurasia as possible.
A more extreme version of the largely invariant grand strategy is that no challenge can be tolerated to the “power, position, and prestige of the United States,” so the American Society of International Law was instructed by the prominent liberal statesman Dean Acheson, one of the main architects of the postwar world. He was speaking in 1963, shortly after the missile crisis brought the world to the brink of nuclear war. There are few basic changes in the guiding conceptions as we proceed to the Bush II doctrine, which elicited unusual mainstream protest, not because of its basic content, but because of its brazen style and arrogance, as was pointed out by Clinton’s secretary of state Madeleine Albright, who was well aware of Clinton’s similar doctrine.
The collapse of the “monolithic and ruthless conspiracy” led to a change of tactics, but not fundamental policy. That was clearly understood by policy analysts. Dimitri Simes, senior associate at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, observed that Gorbachev’s initiatives would “liberate American foreign policy from the straightjacket imposed by superpower hostility.”6 He identified three major components of “liberation.” First, the United States would be able to shift NATO costs to its European competitors, one way to avert the traditional concern that Europe might seek an independent path. Second, the United States can end “the manipulation of America by third world nations.” The manipulation of the rich by the undeserving poor has always been a serious problem, particularly acute with regard to Latin America, which in the preceding five years had transferred some $150 billion to the industrial West in addition to $100 billion of capital flight, amounting to twenty-five times the total value of the Alliance for Progress and fifteen times the Marshall Plan.
Humanitarian aid is still used as a mode of overt interventionism
Chomsky, Massachusetts Institute of Technology Linguistics Professor, 8
(Noam, September, Monthly Review, Volume 60, Issue 04, “Humanitarian Imperialism: The New Doctrine of Imperial Right”, http://monthlyreview.org/2008/09/01/humanitarian-imperialism-the-new-doctrine-of-imperial-right/, Accessed: July 13, 2014, KS)
In August 1999, in a UN-run referendum, the population voted overwhelmingly for independence, a remarkable act of courage. The Indonesian army and its paramilitary associates reacted by destroying the capital city of Dili and driving hundreds of thousands of the survivors into the hills. The United States and Britain were unimpressed. Washington lauded “the value of the years of training given to Indonesia’s future military leaders in the United States and the millions of dollars in military aid for Indonesia,” the press reported, urging more of the same for Indonesia and throughout the world. A senior diplomat in Jakarta explained succinctly that “Indonesia matters and East Timor doesn’t.” While the remnants of Dili were smoldering and the expelled population were starving in the hills, Defense Secretary William Cohen, on September 9, reiterated the official U.S. position that occupied East Timor “is the responsibility of the Government of Indonesia, and we don’t want to take that responsibility away from them.”
A few days later, under intense international and domestic pressure (much of it from influential right-wing Catholics), Clinton quietly informed the Indonesian generals that the game was over, and they instantly withdrew, allowing an Australian-led UN peace-keeping force to enter the country unopposed. The lesson is crystal clear. To end the aggression and virtual genocide of the preceding quarter-century there was no need to bomb Jakarta, to impose sanctions, or in fact to do anything except to stop participating actively in the crimes. The lesson, however, cannot be drawn, for evident doctrinal reasons. Amazingly, the events have been reconstructed as a remarkable success of humanitarian intervention in September 1999, evidence of the enthralling “emerging norms” inaugurated by the “enlightened states.” One can only wonder whether a totalitarian state could achieve anything comparable.