INTRODUCTION

This article looks at the bewildering state of the latter half of the twentieth century and illustrates the need for a reliable theoretical framework through which global change may be interpreted. Although ridiculed by critics wearing the mantle of post-modernism and critical theory, it is argued that realism - both the classical realism of Carr, Morgenthau and Niebuhr, and the structural or neo-realism of Waltz and Krasner - are best suited as tools to understand the turbulent world in which we live. At all times, the interface between theory and practice is exposed.

We are living in a dynamic and turbulent period of world history, fecund with seeming contradictions. In an era which has witnessed the end of some of the most intractable conflicts of the twentieth century - the Cold War and apartheid - and therefore seemingly to herald a new era of peace, Russian forces brutally attack the break-away republic of Chechnya and Peru and Ecuador go to war.1 In an era where the winds of democracy has ostensibly signified the end of the one-party state, authoritarianism and human rights abuses are still the order of the day in much of Eastern Europe and Africa: the Mobutus and the Abachas still reign and the Abiolas languish in prison. Moreover in Eastern Europe, ultra-nationalists like Vladimir Zhirinovsky are gaining ground, while the apparatchiks of the former communist regimes are being returned to power under the banner of the ‘Reconstituted Left’ like a warped rendition of the ‘Star Wars Trilogy’! In an era where one hears increasing talk of a global economy, the possibility of several trade wars occurring is a reality. In an era where there is talk of a global culture, various types of insular cultural chauvinisms are expressed. In an era where there is increasing talk of a harmonious global polity, the world is wracked by conflict generated by secessionist movements wearing the mantle of ethnicity, nationalism or religious fundamentalism.

To make sense of the confusing world we inhabit, we need theory. Theory, according to Kenneth Waltz, "...is an intellectual construction by which we select facts and interpret them."2 However, theory, especially in the social sciences, as can be inferred from the above definition, cannot be objective.3 This then creates the basis for competing theories to develop. In international relations, one finds the dominant realist/neo-realist paradigm coming under fire from critics wearing the garb of post-modernism and critical theory.

What this paper sets out to do is to briefly describe the key features of realism and to critically evaluate the post-modern/critical theory challenge to it. Above all, it aims to prove that realism/neo-realism does have a case and that its critics are misguided in their opposition to a paradigm which is so useful in coming to understand the turbulent world in which we live.

WHAT IS REALISM?

Realism, as a distinct school of thought in international relations theory, places its emphasis on the State as the primary actor in world politics.4 Its central proposition is that since the purpose of statecraft is national survival in a hostile, anarchic environment, the acquisition of power is the proper, rational and inevitable goal of foreign policy.5 International Politics can then be defined as a struggle between power-maximising states in an anarchical environment.6 Hence realism is sometimes referred to as the power politics school of thought.7

The concept of ‘anarchy’ as noted above is an important pillar of the realist paradigm. Anarchy stems from the fact that states answer to no higher authority and so must look to themselves to protect their interests and ensure their survival. Thus the concepts of ‘self-help’ and ‘sovereignty’ become integral parts of the realist view of global affairs.8 Since all states seek to maximise power in such an anarchic world, realism emphasises the endemic nature of conflict and competition in world politics. This, in turn, necessitates the acquisition of military capabilities by states, sufficient at least to deter attack in a dangerous and uncertain world.9

Acceptance of the persistence of conflict in the system, however, does not mean that such conflict should go unchecked, since this would imply a threat to the entire state system. The favoured realist technique of conflict management is through the Balance of Power where: "[s]tability and order are the result of skilful manipulations of flexible alliance systems: they do not stem from the authoritative force of International Law or Organization, which in any case is minimal."10

The truism of the above has been borne out historically time and again. However, three recent incidents illustrate the point. In the 1980s, the United States mined the harbours of Sandinista Nicaragua. General Daniel Ortega took the US to the International Court of Justice (ICJ) at The Hague. The US refused to show up, declaring that it does not see itself as bound by the decisions of the ICJ. In the 1980s, too, New Zealand asked for the extradition of a French secret service agent to face charges of international terrorism relating to the bombing of the ‘Rainbow Warrior’. France refused to extradite the agent and used its veto in the United Nations Security Council to ‘kill’ the issue in that august world body. More recently, the US pushed the UN to impose sanctions on Libya, after its refusal to hand over the alleged bombers of the Pan Am flight over Lockerbie - this while the ICJ was still conducting its investigation to ascertain whether the individuals concerned were indeed the bombers.11

These cases illustrate the fact that power, or the lack of it, is the central organising principle of international politics, not international law or organisation; and that international law and world bodies like the UN are cynically used and abused by the powerful to further their own interests - as it has been done for centuries. Even more prosaically, it underlines the correctness of the realist paradigm which views the structure of the international system as a hierarchy based on power capabilities; where the principle of equality between states is non-existent since states have different power capabilities; and where weak states are at the mercy of more powerful states.12

However, it is important to distinguish the classical realism of E.H. Carr, Hans Morgenthau, Reinhold Niebuhr and George Schwarzenberger from the structural or neo-realism of Kenneth Waltz, Stephen Krasner, Arthur Stein and Robert Keohane.13 Structural realists, like Kenneth Waltz in his influential Theory of International Politics, aimed to explain co-operation under conditions of ostensible anarchy.

While retaining many of the basic features of classical realism, for instance power as a central analytical concept, neo-realism directs attention to the structural characteristics of an international system of states rather than to its component units. In this ‘Waltzian’ formulation the concept of ‘structure’ refers to the hierarchical ordering of a system. In the words of Evans and Newnham14 in the neo-realist view: "...[t]he system is still anarchical, and the units are still deemed to be autonomous, but attention to the structural level of analysis enables a more dynamic and less restrictive picture of international political behaviour to emerge. Traditional realism, by concentrating on the units and their functional attributes, is unable to account for changes in behaviour or in the distribution of power which occur independently of fluctuations within the units themselves. Neo-realism, on the other hand, explains how structures affect behaviour and outcomes regardless of characteristics attributed to power and status."

In this paper the term ‘realism’ will be used to refer to both the classical and structural varieties. This is possible due to the strong continuities, as noted above, running from realism to neo-realism.

Realism, in one form or another, has dominated academic considerations of world politics and the thinking of foreign-policy makers over the past few decades. However, in this post-Cold War period, realism is increasingly coming under fire from post-modernists.

THE POST-MODERN CHALLENGE

What is post-modernism?

The 1960s and 1970s saw the beginnings of a barrage of criticism against the dominant positivism of the social sciences. A series of philosophical movements, most notably hermeneutics, ordinary language philosophy, post-empiricist philosophy of science, post-structuralism, critical theory, feminism, Marxism of the Frankfurt school variety and the anti-structuralist Marxism of Gramsci all converged in assailing the dominant positivist orthodoxy.15 The critics who espoused these positions argued that the natural and social sciences invoke an interpretive ordering of empirical reality; that philosophical, aesthetic and moral considerations play a role in all empirical inquiry; and that in its resistance to empirical verification, science resembles literary criticism.16

These critics also began to emphasise the social and historical embeddedness of an inquiry, its essentially moral and political nature and the failure and undesirability of all efforts to provide a unifying social scientific paradigm. A new division was drawn between those social scientists who defended the possibility and desirability of achieving secure analytical foundations - ‘modernists’ - and critics of the project. In the social sciences, post-modernism describes the critique of the modernist-positivist project to ground and unify the social sciences. In its critique of modernist social sciences, post-modernism reconsiders the relationship between scientific knowledge, power and society, as well as the relation between science, critique and narrative.17

The Post-modernist Critique of Realism

The post-modernist flame has been carried into the realm of international relations theory by the likes of George, Walker, Booth, Vale, and Carim.18

Post-modernists see realism as an "...anachronistic residue of the European Enlightenment and, in general, mainstream [positivist] Western philosophy, which continues the futile quest for a grand (non) theory of existence beyond specific time, space and political purpose."19 Moreover, George attacks the positivism on which he asserts that realism is grounded - the idea that human progress is inevitable.20

It is also asserted by post-modernists that realism presents its knowledge of the world in terms of generalised, universalised and irreducible patterns of human behaviour, which reduces the complexity of global patterns to the incessant anarchical power struggle among states and ‘rational’ interstate activity to the single utilitarian pursuit of self-interest.21 Post-modernists accuse their realist counterparts of viewing reality in ‘essentialist, unitary and universalist terms’, thereby arriving at the ‘erroneous’ positivist conclusion of a ‘singular, stable, knowable reality’.22 Post-modernists, in contrast, see reality in a state of perpetual flux - of movement, change and instability. They believe that their acceptance of heterogeneity and diversity make them uniquely positioned to address the ambiguities and paradoxes of global life.23

As a result, post-modernists argue that realism has become increasingly irrelevant to policy-makers and ordinary people; and that realist dominated international relations theory has been reduced to "the gibbering of apes".24 Frequently, postmodernists cite realism’s ‘failure’ to predict the end of the Cold War or the demise of Soviet Russia as indicative of the irrelevance of realism to the complex world we inhabit.25

Ultimately, post-modernism aims to facilitate a broader, more inclusive understanding of global human relations and seek to illustrate how it is possible to think and act beyond the seemingly immutable principles of international relations orthodoxy, "...where identity, state sovereignty and international anarchy are presented as unchanging, ahistorical ‘givens’ in the global system."26

However, post-modernism is not without its critics, and this writer takes grave exception to the way it transforms realism from a sophisticated, complex, and successful tradition which seeks to analyse global life, into a caricatured, simplified narrative.

As noted above, realism has been criticised by George27 for its positivism - the idea that with the unfolding of history, progress is inevitable. Walker28 also places realism within the positivist, modernist tradition. However, Walker also notes that "...since the eighteenth century, Western political theory has been guided by a reading of history as a grand march from barbarism toward enlightenment and modernity. [Realist] theories of international relations, however, build on an intense suspicion of any theories of progress, indeed about the possibility of fundamental change of any kind. Progress is possible within states, but, it is said, between states there can only be the same old rituals of power politics played over and over again."29

The above quote is instructive for two reasons. Firstly, it illustrates the internal contradictions within post-modernism. Is realism firmly within the positivist tradition positing the notion of inevitable progress as history unfolds? Or is it ‘non-progressive’ or even ‘anti-progressive’ seeing only the "same old ritual of power politics played over and over again"? Realism cannot stand for and against progress - but this is exactly what the postmodernists would have us believe!

Secondly, and more seriously, Walker correctly observes that realism maintains that no progress is possible in the relations between states - realism sees competition and conflict as inevitable and endemic in the international system. Or as Brecht puts it in Mother Courage, "War is like love, it always finds a way."30 Hence realism cannot be seen to be grounded in any kind of positivism. A concomitant of this would be the fact that the postmodernist critique of ‘realist positivism’ would fall away.

However, the post-modernist challenge has also generated it own critics. Modernists, for instance, do not concede the impossibility of foundations in the social sciences. Renewed efforts to frame theory as a foundation discourse have appeared, most notably in the writings of Jonathan Turner, Randall Collins, David Wagner, Robert D’Amico and Stanley Aronowitz.31 Others like Seidman and Wagner32 have raised practical and moral doubts about the consequences of the post-modern critique. Does post-modernism end in relativism and nihilism? Does its radical decentring call into question any rational standards of discourse? Questions have been raised about whether repudiating the project of a general theory means the abandonment of a strong programme of analytical and critical theorising. Does post-modernism's radical deconstructivism mean that all general categories become problematic or illegitimate? Does its radical historicist critique lead to a descriptivism that lacks the deep critical impulse of analytical theorising?

Realism has been criticised by post-modernists for being rooted in the positivist-modernist project. As has been noted above, however, it is not altogether obvious that realism does fit neatly into this paradigm. Should realism fit into this paradigm, it is not altogether certain whether it is as bad a thing as the post-modernists would have us believe. Critics of post-modernism, after all, do have a strong case. However, the proponents of post-modernism do have other objections to the realist doctrine, and it is to this that we now turn.

WILL THE TRUE REALISTS PLEASE STAND UP?

Post-modernists generally present realism as a static body of thought; which because of its aversion to change, is becoming increasingly irrelevant in this post-Cold War era. What this section aims to do, is to disprove the notion of realism as a single homogenous strand of thought unchanging in the face of a world characterised by change, movement and turmoil. What is attempted is to illustrate that as with the case of the Marxists, who are divided into Maoist, Marxist-Leninist, Trotskyites, Stalinists, and others, realism too has various camps or sub-camps.

Historically, realism went through three phases. The first phase began in 1948 with the publication of Hans Morgenthau’s Politics Amongst Nations. This saw the emergence of realism in the classic power-politics sense. The second phase began in the late 1950s and ended with the end of the Vietnam war. This saw a shift in the realist research orientation: the discipline came to be dominated by behaviourist approaches to Cold War strategic issues.33 The third (or neo-realist) phase formally began with the publication of Waltz’s Theory of International Politics in 1979. This saw the start of a more international political economy approach to international relations.

Notwithstanding the above, postmodernists continue to berate the ‘static’ nature of realism. Carim,34 for instance, uses the terms ‘realist’ and ‘neo-realist’ interchangeably and George35 claims to see no substantive difference between classical realism and its neo-realist heir.

However, ‘substantive’ differences between the two can be easily illustrated. Niebuhr, for example, one of the founding fathers of classical realism, belonged to a tradition of strong Christian pessimism. As a result, he saw a fallen human nature at the root of war and other international problems.36 Waltz,37 however, explains war in terms of the anarchical structure of the states system. This determining structure imposes a ‘self-help’ logic on states. From this perspective, wars occur because there is nothing to stop them when a state believes it must defend or further a ‘vital interest’ by force.

One can also demonstrate ‘substantive’ differences not only between classical realism and neo-realism, but also within neo-realism. On the role of regimes in international politics, two camps may be broadly identified within the structural realist paradigm. These may be identified as conservative and liberal. The conservative approach of Waltz expresses itself in his rejection of any meaningful role accorded to regimes in international affairs. This can be juxtaposed against the more liberal approach of Krasner and Keohane who "... accept the basic analytical assumptions of [conventional] structural realist approaches, which posit an international system of functionally symmetrical, power-maximizing states acting in an anarchic environment. But [it] maintains that under certain conditions involving the failure of individual action to secure Pareto-optimal outcomes, international regimes may have a significant impact even in an anarchic world."38

‘Substantive’ differences did not only exist between the classical and structural realist schools, and within the respective schools of thought, but also between realists belonging to the same school on specific issues. Clearly the debate surrounding the hydrogen bomb (H-bomb) and Vietnam were two such issues.

In 1949, the Soviet Union successfully detonated its first atomic bomb. This sparked off a debate within the realist camp on whether or not the US should acquire the H-bomb. Paul Nitze and Lewis Strauss urged Washington to acquire the hydrogen bomb. They argued that if the US does not do so, the Soviet Union will, an act that will result in catastrophic consequences for US national security. Opponents of the H-bomb included such prominent realists as Lilienthal, Keenan and J. Robert Oppenheimer. They did not simply base their arguments on the question of whether the new weapons would add any measure of security not already provided by atomic bombs, or whether it would irreparably damage prospects for the eventual control of atomic weapons, or whether it would provoke the Russians into developing H-bombs of their own. They raised the even more fundamental question of whether the principal deterrent to Soviet aggression should rest on nuclear weapons in the first place.39

Vietnam, too, resulted in a schism between realists along generational lines. The grand old men of realism represented by Morgenthau, Keenan, Niebuhr and Brodie all opposed the war in Vietnam.40 They opposed the war on the issue of proportion: were the means employed proportionate to the extent of the mischief? Morgenthau charged that the Johnson administration had mistaken a peripheral interest for a vital one in Vietnam: that in its effort to have its way, it was committing American forces in a manner wholly inappropriate to the extent of the threat that existed, and that, as a consequence, it was neglecting other more serious dangers, both external and internal.41 Kissinger and his generation of realists who were trained by the ‘grand old masters’, largely supported the war on grounds of national interest.42

But, this is not all. Not only are there `substantial’ differences between realists, but also in the writings of a single realist. For instance, the last page of Carr’s Twenty Years Crisis (1966) contains an appeal to the idea of spreading community beyond national frontiers. And the state-centric Hans Morgenthau later in life advocated world government.43 Keenan44 meanwhile, the creator of containment, became relaxed about the Soviet threat and decidedly anti-nuclear. Brodie, the inventor of deterrence, came to see the historic obsolescence of war, and argued that war is a moral arena.45 Fox, the coiner of the term ‘superpower’, asked who the ‘real realists’ were these days, and made it clear that he did not think they were those whom he called the ‘doctrinal realists’ who had come to dominate the subject.46

What is clear from the above is that realism, both in theory and practice, is not as simple as the post-modernists claim it to be. This fact, however, has serious implications for the post-modernist critique of realism. George47 posits the notion that realism leads to war and devastation. Vale implies that realism drove apartheid’s foreign and domestic policies, and in particular the notion of the ‘Total Onslaught’.48 However, if one accepts the complexity of realism in theory and practice, one would find such an oversimplified causal relationship between realism and war, or realism and apartheid difficult to sustain.

REALISM VERSUS NOSTRADAMUS

As has been noted above, post-modernists have accused realism of being increasingly irrelevant in this age of rapid global change, and cite the example of realism’s inability to come to grips with the demise of the Soviet superpower and the end of the Cold War.49 George puts it this way: "Indeed Gaddis has illustrated how the analytical emperor of International Relations is naked after all. More precisely the dominant perspective in International Relations, articulated latterly as neo-Realism, has illustrated that it cannot adequately explain that which it assured a generation it understood - the behaviour of the Soviet Union as power politics actor in the anarchical system. This is primarily because Realism, in any of its guises, represents its knowledge of the world in terms of generalized, universalized, and irreducible patterns of human behaviour, which reduces global politics to the incessant, anarchical power struggle among states and ‘rational’ interstate activity to the single utilitarian pursuit of self-interest. From such a perspective there can be no ‘rational’ explanation for Soviet behaviour in peacefully relinquishing its power status and systemic authority other than in traditional power politics terms."50

This is an interesting argument. In the first instance, the entire irrelevance of realism hinges on its lack of predictive power. If this is the only criteria by which we judge the relevance or usefulness of knowledge, then this author believes there must be something seriously wrong with our intellectual capabilities of reasoning and understanding! More prosaically, the complexity inherent in human nature makes it difficult to predict the future of human relations with the same level of accuracy as the interaction between atoms. But, the question still remains: did realism fail to predict the demise of the Soviet superpower? Since George cited the Cold War historian John Lewis Gaddis as discovering the poverty of realism on this matter, it is to the latter’s book The United States and the End of the Cold War (1992) that we turn to disprove the notion that realism failed to predict the fall of the Soviet Union.

John Foster Dulles is generally regarded as the archetypal realist and Cold War ‘Warrior’ yet he did see the end of the Soviet superpower. In 1955 Dulles met the Chinese Nationalist Foreign Minister George Yeh and had the following to say: "Washington regarded the disintegrative process as inherent in the nature of a communist dictatorship, and as inevitable. The communist regimes were bound to crack, if for no other reason than their inability to satisfy the needs of their own people. What was required was faith that the dissolution of this evil system is gradually taking place even when there is no surface evidence ... External pressures hasten the destructive process."51

Dulles also identified one of the fault lines of the Soviet Union as being its large and volatile ethnic mix. He likened the Soviet empire’s ‘multinational’ problem to the problem of ethnic nationalism in the Austro-Hungarian empire before it. And like the Austro-Hungarian empire he maintained that ethnic nationalism will constitute such a severe destabilising factor that it could precipitate a crack in the Soviet monolith.52

In an interview in January 1959, Dulles maintained that "[t]he pattern of the future is, I think, predictable in its broadest outlines. The communists had imposed their rule on some 900 million people. There is no way for the West to disrupt that rule from the outside for we renounce the destructive power of so-called ‘preventive war’. But we can confidently expect that in due course it will be altered from within."53

Moreover, in the last years of Dulles’ life, he came to see that internal changes within communist states might alter their external behaviour more rapidly than the deliberate application of pressure without.54 History has proven Dulles correct in asserting that economics and ethnicity, internal as opposed to external forces, will result in the demise of the Soviet superpower. What the above illustrates is the lie in George’s statement that from a realist perspective there can be no ‘rational explanation for Soviet behaviour in peacefully relinquishing its power status and systemic authority other than in traditional power politics terms.’ But the question is, did the post-modernists predict the demise of the Soviet superpower and the end of the Cold War? This question, however, raises another one: what sort of methodology do critics of realism employ in order to ‘objectively’ predict the future?

Since Gaddis is quoted by George, above, as revealing the essential ‘nakedness’ of traditional international relations theory, it is to his methodology that we turn. Gaddis posits the view that individuals and nations have ‘limited capacity’ for self-analysis. A good way of putting things into proper perspective is by stepping back to take in a wider view. For Gaddis ‘stepping back’ means moving forward in time or as he puts it, "... imagining ourselves at some point in the future ... looking back on the present and the sequence of events that led to it."55 By employing this ‘method’ Gaddis asserts that we will "... gain insights into our present condition from the detachment of temporal distance..."56

While this may be an imaginative way of viewing things, it is a ‘method’ left best to the realm of imagination. Trying to apply such a ‘method’ to serious academic discourse is foolhardy in the extreme. Man is a temporal and a spatial being and wish as much as we can, we cannot negate that fact. It is difficult to believe that were we simply to project ourselves forward in time and look back we would gain objectivity. Were we to project ourselves into the future we would also be projecting our individual twentieth century pride and prejudices (our patterns of socialisation, if you will) with us.

But, Gaddis’ greatest flaw is when he compares changes in the physical world to that of human history. Consider Gaddis’ discussion of the relevance of tectonics to explain the events of 1989: "Faults in earthquake zones lock themselves into place for decades at a time, releasing accumulated strains rarely but, when they do release them, very dramatically."57

Similarly Gaddis argues that the momentous events of 1989 were simply a manifestation of underlying historic tectonics. Two of these forces (of historical tectonics) identified by him are "... [t]he collapse of authoritarian alternatives to liberalism; and the decline of brutality in both internal and international affairs."58 Thus the demise of the Soviet Union and the end of the Cold War could have been predicted in this way. But the lie of this statement is borne out in the failed election in Algeria and that country’s rapid decline into civil war; in Turkey’s almost genocidal solution to the Kurd ‘problem’; the Somalias, Rwandas, Angolas, Yugoslavias, East Timors, Chechnyas, and Burmas of this world. Moreover, it is borne out in the resurgence of the reconstituted left parties of the former Eastern Europe and elsewhere (consider the victory of the United Marxist-Leninist Party in Nepal).

How could Gaddis be so wrong on both these counts? The answer seems quite obviously related to his methodology: change in the physical world cannot be compared to change in the human world. While a geologist can predict the imminent onset of an earthquake by means of a seismograph, the historian or political scientist cannot predict the outbreak of a revolution with the same level of prediction or accuracy. Moreover, lacking an instrument as objective as a seismograph, the human scientist is compelled to fall back on the ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ of the ‘common-sense’ argument. As a result, the object of research is often compromised by the individual researcher’s whims and predilections. It should come as no surprise to the 1 000 Angolans who died each day during the height of that country’s civil war, that Gaddis can glibly speak of the wonderful decline in brutality. After all, Gaddis simply reflects his First World, North American bias.

What the above demonstrates is the poverty of post-modernism's contribution to international relations theory and the continued relevance of realism to policy-makers and academics seeking to understand our turbulent world.

REALISM AND THE MASAPPROPRIATION OF

George59 also takes issue with what he terms as the ‘problematic nature of neo-realism’s textual foundations’ in seeking to appropriate Thucydides as the first scientific realist. The primary problem of realists, he asserts, attempting to appropriate Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War as a realist text, is that it ignores Thucydides’ own emphasis on the significance of human actors as the conscious initiators of events and his antipathy to structuralist principles "... that posit the foundation of an anarchical world in the (external) power distribution of actors."60 Similarly George61 finds the misrepresentation of Machiavelli’s Prince as part of a realist ‘doctrine’ problematic. He claims that Machiavelli’s primary concern in The Prince is ‘virtu’ and the problem of violence in the pursuit of a good life.

One can, however, criticise George simply by noting Thucydides’ and Machiavelli’s contributions to realist theory. Evans and Newnham62 note that Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War was the first sustained effort to explain the origins of international conflict in terms of the dynamics of power politics. More importantly, any reading of the book itself will illustrate that Thucydides’ concentration on human actors like Pericles and Alcibiaedes did not mean the negation of the various structural factors like the alliance between Sparta and Persia against Athens. It could be argued that Machiavelli’s Prince (1513) and Hobbes’ Leviathan (1651) provided crucial components of the realist tradition in their conceptions of interest, prudence, and expediency as prime motivators in the anarchic arena of world politics.

It could also be argued that George’s own comments elsewhere in the same book undermine his own argument. For instance, he notes that the first Machiavellian principle of power politics is "...that virtue in International Relations dictates that aggression must be met with greater aggression if meaningful order is to be maintained."63

Any academic endeavour necessarily borrows rather eclectically from that which has gone before. For instance, Marx’s materialistic concept of history was borrowed extensively from idealistic Hegelian dialectics, his critique on the capitalist economy and the notion of surplus value was borrowed from Adam Smith and David Ricardo, and his concept of the State owed a great intellectual debt to the anthropologist Henry Morgan. Similarly, post-modernism's intellectual roots are just as eclectic - feminism, Marxism of the Frankfurt school, the anti-structuralism of Gramsci, post-structuralism, hermeneutics, language philosophy, and post-empiricist philosophy of science. One wonders how Hegel would have felt by Marx making his dialectic ‘stand on its head’, one wonders how Marx, the positivist, the modernist and the determinist, would feel about being ‘misappropriated’ by post-modernists.

REALISM AND MORALITY

It has been argued by Walker64 that realism’s concentration on power-politics results in the development of a dichotomy between power and morality. He also asserts that realism negates the usefulness, or indeed, the relevance of ethics in the international arena. Vale65 makes a similar point on the power versus morality issue. He66 even goes further by implying a link between realism and immoral apartheid. Is this true? Does realism, both as theory and as practice, separate power from ethics? Does realism advocate immorality in international politics?

On the theoretical side one could repudiate this challenge by simply turning to Carr’s The Twenty Years’ Crisis 1919 -1939 (1966) which is one of the chief scrolls in the realist faith. It is generally regarded that this text effectively repudiated the tenets of Wilsonian idealism and set the basic principles of power politics on which Morgenthau, Niebuhr, Reynolds and others had built. However, a closer examination of the book itself provides a more tempered view of the role of power and an appreciation of morality in international politics. For instance, Carr67 puts forward the notion of a combination of power and morality, basing thoughts on elements of both utopia and reality, and he describes politics and law as a ‘meeting place’ for ethics and power.

Carr68 defined political science as "... the science of not only what is, but of what ought to be." Clearly this is indicative of a fusion of empirical and normative elements in his work. He described ‘sound political thought and sound political life’ as synonymous with finding a place for both utopianism and realism.69 He went on to criticise "pure realism" for failing to provide the ‘essential ingredients of all effective political thinking’.70 Carr concluded by noting that international order could not be based on power alone, and that it was an ‘unreal kind of realism’ which ignored the element of morality in any world order.71

On a theoretical level, it is noted that realism is not as immoral as it has been presented. But what about the more practical level? Since post-modernists are so fond of citing the case of the US during the Cold War, it is to that country’s foreign policy that we turn.

The Vietnam War and the Watergate scandal raised questions about the "moral relativism" of US politics generally, and of US foreign policy in particular. The combined effect of all this was a serious debate on the relationship between morality and foreign policy by the mid-1970s, with the argument revolving around competing priorities of order and justice. Should the nation’s geo-political interest in building a stable international order take precedence over its moral commitment to human rights? Or should human rights come first even if that approach jeopardised the prospects for stability?72

The realist position was clear: order was the prerequisite for justice. This was not a negation of human rights in foreign policy. Niebuhr had worked out the argument years before when he had pointed out that human rights could hardly flourish in conditions of war, anarchy, or revolution. "Some balance of power is the basis of whatever justice is achieved in international relations" he wrote in 1942.73 Henry Kissinger embraced this as Secretary of State: "The true task of citizenship is to draw from the balance of power a more positive capacity to better the human condition." Or, as he put it in his memoirs: "If history teaches anything it is that there can be no peace without equilibrium and no justice without restraint."74

But, the opposite view of human rights as the primary American interest, overwhelmed the realist position, more for domestic political reasons than intellectual ones. The most forceful proponent of such a view was Jimmy Carter, who during the 1976 presidential campaign declared: "We’ve seen a loss of morality ... and we’re ashamed of what our government is as we deal with other nations around the world. What we seek is ... a foreign policy that reflects the decency and generosity and common sense of our own people."75

The result was that during the Carter presidency, human rights gained a much higher priority than at any other point in the history of the Cold War. Ironically, the effect of this was to intensify the Cold War rather than to provide a possibility to move beyond it, as Carter had hoped to do. Complaints about human rights violations in the Soviet Union undermined the atmosphere of relative goodwill that had developed between Washington and Moscow during the Nixon and Ford administrations. The most prominent casualty was progress in the strategic arms limitation talks (SALT II). Carter’s preoccupation with human rights, meanwhile, induced the Soviets to exploit what they saw as American weaknesses in places like Angola, Ethiopia, Mozambique, and Afghanistan. Moreover, Carter’s attempts to disassociate the US from authoritarian regimes in Iran and Nicaragua backfired when these governments gave way to outspokenly anti-American regimes, who, in addition, were not too sympathetic on the question of human rights.76

That the above demonstrates is the disastrous consequences of making human rights both ends and means of foreign policy, rather than allowing human rights to flow from order as the realists propose. But let us concretise this more by creating a hypothetical future scenario.

The year is 2000. On the SABC’s eight o’ clock news we hear that President Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe has cancelled the presidential elections, imprisoned opposition leaders and declared himself as "Emperor of New Harare". An anti-realist position would immediately slam the Mugabe government for gross human rights abuses, possibly break off diplomatic relations, and provide some sort of assistance to the ‘oppressed’. The repercussions of this would be disastrous. South Africa would lose a valuable trading partner, adversely affecting the country’s economy. The possibility of regional integration would be dealt a severe blow. Other countries in the region would view South Africa with suspicion: is Pretoria’s anti-Mugabe stance really motivated by a concern for human rights or does South Africa want to marginalise Harare with the intention of maintaining total control over SADC? More importantly, how are other countries, such as Swaziland, with poor human rights records, supposed to feel about South Africa’s new role as protector of human rights?

A realist view would proceed along a different route to arrive at the same objective - the end of human rights abuses in Zimbabwe. The project of regional integration - which after all would be to the benefit of the region’s people - will continue. The question of human rights abuses can be privately raised with the Mugabe administration. One could also offer Harare various carrots (for example, trade incentives) to nudge (as oppose to push) it along the human rights route. This would result in a good marriage between human rights and foreign policy; between morality and the national interest.

If this scenario is a little too abstract, President Mandela’s strident attack on the Abacha regime after the execution of Ken Saro-Wiwa and his call on world leaders generally and African leaders in particular to isolate the Abacha regime, for example, by imposing an oil embargo, can be considered. Both at the level of SADC and the OAU, South Africa found itself a minority of one. Should Pretoria continue to pursue this moralistic foreign policy, the country will continue to be isolated and marginalised to its own detriment.

REALISM AND ANARCHY

George77 challenges the realists by asking them to account for regime co-operation in a situation of endemic anarchy. As has been noted above, however, this is precisely the question which occupied the minds of Waltz and the other neo-realists. It is not the intention to reiterate the above arguments, but rather to attempt to clarify the meaning and consequences of anarchy in realist thought.

Anarchy is a central pillar in realist thought. Its literal meaning is ‘absence of government’. However, this should not be interpreted as disorder, confusion and chaos (as George wrongly does). Thus, anarchy and order, are not necessarily mutually exclusive in traditional international relations theory. States, realists note, do in fact form a primitive society with rules, norms and values (such as respect for the territorial sovereignty of states).78 However, these rules, norms and values are not as well developed between states as they are within states. The cases cited earlier regarding the US mining Nicaragua’s harbours, the bombing of the ‘Rainbow Warrior’, and the alleged Libyan involvement in the bombing over Lockerbie demonstrate the tentative nature of what is termed ‘international law’. Thus anarchy exists between states (referring to an absence of world government and where states answer to no higher authority but themselves), but there is also a form of primitive society co-existing with this anarchy. This led Hedley Bull to describe the interstate system as "the anarchical society".79

The concept of anarchy, however, holds other implications. The lack of a common government or a universally recognised common external authority is what distinguishes the international from the domestic realms of politics and law. The notions of sovereignty and independence in this way are either a consequence of, or a reason for this condition.80 However, demarcating domestic from international politics, does not necessarily mean seeing one in isolation from another; they are rather seen as interrelated. For example, at the Congress of Vienna in 1815, Prussia’s Metternich and other conservative monarchies, fearing the spread of the ideas of the French Revolution decided to band together to stop this. Thus Metternich’s ‘Concert system’ proposed a kind of international policing regime for he feared that revolutionary French ideas such as the notion of equality might become a factor in the domestic politics of conservative Prussia.

The example cited above is also instructive for another reason: it explains why states co-operate that are of necessity in conflict and competition with each other. States, history emphasises, co-operate with each other when it is in their interest to do so. After the conservative monarchies of Europe weathered the storm of the populist 1848 revolutions, very little commonality remained between them, and the ‘Concert system’ all but fell into disarray. When the Crimean War broke out in 1854 it officially sealed the death of the ‘Concert system’.81 The predominance of the concept of national self-interest in the "anarchical society" will be returned to in the next section.

REALISM AND THE WITHERING AWAY OF THE STATE

Realists have been attacked by post-modernists for according the role of primary referent in international affairs to the State.82

The State as an ‘a-historical given’

One aspect of this criticism relates to the fact that realists see the State as an ‘a-historical given in the global system’.83 Post-modernists posit the notion that the State is a relatively recent historical figure (that the birth of the State is to be found in the Treaty of Westphalia of 1648 which ended the Thirty Years War). It is argued that the State historically evolved from set circumstances, and that in the present era of massive global change it shows every indication to be on the wane.84

However, such a view is extremely problematic. Does this mean that Julius Caesar did not rule over a State? Does this mean that the rulers of ancient Han China did not rule over a state? Does this mean that Montezuma’s sophisticated Aztec polity was not a state? And what of King Solomon’s Israel, rulers of the mighty kingdoms of Mali and Ghana, Atahualapa’s vast Inca empire, and the sophisticated Indus Valley polity which existed millennia before the birth of Christ?

These questions necessitate a more fundamental question: what exactly is a state? The classic political science definition of a state is a people occupying a specific territory, having rulers (government) who pass laws which are binding on those people.85 By this definition, all the above historical examples are indeed states. More importantly, it illustrates a deep Eurocentric bias among those scholars who claim that the State is a relatively recent historical phenomenon which began with the Treaty of Westphalia in 1648.

Those who argue that the State is withering away lack an understanding of human history which proves that states are complex social structures and have always been changing in response to new historical conditions. As such, the State as defined above will always be with us in one form or another. After all, somebody has to see to the need of citizens, ranging from protection from the mugger in the dark alley to the army of a foreign government.

State versus non-state actors

Another aspect of the critique relates to the ‘fact’ that the State is seen to be withering away with proof being found in the tremendous growth of social movements, non-government organisations (NGOs), transnational corporations (TNCs) and the like.86

Unfortunately for the post-modernists, however, the situation is far more nuanced. History has shown that state and non-state actors have always co-existed: sometimes they have been in opposition to each other, and in other cases they have worked together; at times the power of the State was predominant and at other times the power of non-state actors was predominant. More importantly, however, where the power of non-state actors have been predominant it did not mean a death-knell to the existence of the State.

Consider here the case of some of the earliest TNCs - the English East India Company (EEIC) and the Dutch East India Company (DEIC). The EEIC set about to conquer India and ‘members of its board’ became governors of the various Indian provinces. Similarly, the DEIC set about to conquer Java (later renamed Dutch Batavia) and it was members of its board - the Council of Seventeen - who ordered Jan van Riebeeck to come to the Cape in 1652. Both companies had their own warships and wielded considerable power.

It is important to note that the power of the State in each of the above instances was enhanced by the activities of private capital. Indications today are that not much has changed. Consider the case of Lonhro, the British conglomerate, who while operating in several countries, cannot escape the label `British’. More importantly, the British State benefits from Lonrho’s activities as can be seen in the assistance the company’s overseas activities gets from the British State. The same could be said about Anglo-American and Toshiba.

With reference to Japan, it is interesting that the US’ trade deficit with Japan is caused by Japanese companies operating inside the US. The latter insists on importing Japanese goods for their plants, as opposed to using American components, for instance in the machinery which is used to assemble motor vehicles in the US. This illustrates the underlying nationalism of supposedly international companies and the support they get from their respective national governments.

With regard to social movements, the situation is far more complicated than post-modernists would have us believe. History is littered with examples of strong movements (be they religious or worker based), thus disproving the critics of realism who argue that it is a relatively recent historical phenomenon. In 1374 BC, for instance, Pharaoh Amenhotep IV introduced monotheism into ancient Egypt, which revolved around worship of the Sun-God Aten. However, Amenhotep faced stiff opposition from the priests of other gods, and especially the priests of Amun. So severe was the opposition that Amenhotep’s successor had to recant the tenets of monotheism and once more had to embrace polytheism - thus making place for the god Amun and his priests. A similar incident occurred in 1669 when Hindus in northern India rebelled against the rule of Aurangzeb who banned their religion and burnt their temples.

Even for the strong worker movements presently in place across the globe there are historic parallels. In 1428, for example, Japanese transport workers went on strike against high food prices when famine struck Japan. They were joined by farmers who wrecked warehouses, temples and private homes. A similar incident occurred in 1563 when the Japanese feudal lord Ieyasu placed heavy taxes on rice. Japanese workers once more went on strike and embarked upon what Sam Shilowa would describe as ‘mass action’. History also provides us with instances where workers’ organisations actually took over states, as in the case of the 1917 Bolshevik Revolution in Russia. An example of organisations taking over cities took place in 1413 when the butchers of Paris led by Simon Caboche took over the city in an effort to ‘make government more efficient’.

What happens when social movements actually capture state power? Does the State "wither away’? Quite the opposite is true: where social movements capture state power, the State is imbued with greater legitimacy which enhances its power vis-à-vis citizens and other social formations within the territorial boundaries of the State. Such was the case when Engelbrecht Engelbrechtsen led a peasant revolt in Sweden which resulted in King Eric VII fleeing and Engelbrechtsen occupying the throne. Such was the case, too, in Gaur in India when African slaves revolted and put their own leader on the throne. Such was the case of the trade union movement Solidarity in Poland in the 1980s.

The case of the African National Congress (ANC) in South Africa can also be said to fit this pattern. It could be argued that the ANC from its inception in 1912 till just prior to coming to power on 27 April 1994 was more a social and nationalist movement than a political party. It fought for a South African nationalism blind to the colour of a person’s skin and fought for the upliftment of what Frantz Fanon termed ‘the wretched of the earth’. Vale puts it that "... [t]he embodiment of the state was the ostensible issue around which, to all intents and purposes, the entire contest for South Africa was waged. As much as the National Party may have wished it to be different, the real contest for the country was for the right to be called South African. And although it might have been dressed up in different ideologies by those who opposed - and those who defended - minority rule, the immediate struggle for South Africa was a fight for the state, for political power."87

The above also demonstrates the fact that social movements, trade unions, and the like do not view the State as an empty husk or shell; rather it is viewed as the repository of real power that has to be captured or influenced in order to effect the desired changes. Vale unwittingly emphasises the importance of the State to academics by stating that "[i]f progressive intellectuals are to promote the prospects for a better world - and, I believe they must - they will have to anticipate and help shift debates within the resulting spaces, by changing the way policy-makers think about the region. To repeat the overall point in a causal chain we need to change the way bureaucrats think in order to change their behaviour in order to secure a different future for the region’s people."88

To return to the ANC and the South African State: the anti-apartheid movement, epitomised by the ANC, has captured state power. For the first time, the government has a mandate from the South African people as a whole, as opposed to one section of it. This point is emphasised by the fact that the ANC has an alliance with both the South African Communist Party and the Congress of South African Trade Unions (the Tripartite Alliance) and has a working relationship with the South African National Civics Organisation. Often one would find a member of the ANC who is also a member of the SACP, COSATU and SANCO. This accords the new government greater popular legitimacy, but it also strengthens the hand of the new state considerably. President Mandela’s government can use the police to curb worker and student unrest, use the army against striking policemen in Transkei and force the South African National Civics Organization (SANCO) and the Congress of Traditional Leaders of South Africa (CONTRALESA) to reach an agreement over local government elections in the country. In each of the above incidents the Government of National Unity embarked upon punitive measures, and yet still retained popular support.

The underlying point is that states are far more resistant to historical change than critics of realism would have us believe.

The State and the national interest in an era of interdependence and integration

Post-modernists launch yet another attack which ‘proves’ the withering away of the State: regional integration and global interdependence, they assert, undermine state sovereignty.89 However, one finds that the reality is far more nuanced than the post-modernists allege. In post-modern accounts of interdependence the structural disparities and exclusions which form part of the process of interdependence and integration in modern world politics are often missing. Consider the level of interdependence between the US and Mexico within the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA). Can one argue that the US is just as dependent on Mexico as Mexico is on the US? An example closer to home is the interdependence between South Africa and Lesotho within the Southern African Customs Union (SACU). Can one argue that South Africa is as dependent on Lesotho as Lesotho is on South Africa?

The point is that post-modern accounts of interdependence invariably attempt to show it occurring in a harmonious, horizontal and equitable manner. Reality, however, indicates that interdependence occurs in precisely the opposite way. Vertical or unequal relations guided by national self-interest has been the norm. States will co-operate with each other on a specific issue because it is in the national interest to do so. However, where such co-operation comes into conflict with the interest of the State, it would cease rather quickly. Such interdependence has been with us for millennia and will be with us for millennia to come. Consider the temporary alliance between the antagonists Persia and Sparta on the question of Athenian supremacy at sea during the Peloponnesian war around 420 BC. Or consider Rome’s dependence on gold from Africa to maintain its hegemony, especially during the Punic wars when it faced Hannibal’s forces.

Regional interdependence and integration, or inter-state co-operation in general, should not be seen as the forerunner of some sort of global polity; rather it should be seen as the workings of national self-interest. Consider in this regard the US’ ambivalent position within the Pacific Community, the disintegration of the East African Community, Nigeria’s behaviour within ECOWAS, or the fears of smaller SADCC states of Zimbabwean hegemony in the 1980s.90 As SADCC evolved into the SADC, these fears have shifted to South Africa as a possible regional hegemon.

Other examples also prove the point. For more than four decades, the marriage between the US and Western Europe was a good one. The US led the West and protected Western Europe against the Soviet threat. In return, grateful Western Europe followed the US lead. Rows (over Suez, Vietnam, US missiles stationed in Europe) were not unknown, but were rapidly solved. Since the demise of the Soviet threat, however, the marriage is looking increasingly rocky. In December 1994 events in Bosnia showed increasing signs of tension. The US blamed Europe for refusing to let NATO do more than wag its finger at the Bihac-bashing Serbs. Europe chastised America for threatening to arm the Bosnian Muslims and, at the same time refusing to commit troops itself. To compound matters, Senator Robert Dole shouted from the sidelines that NATO broke down completely.91 One suspects that the reason for the air-strikes against Serb targets had more to do with maintaining the credibility of the threats issued by its constituent members.

Neither is this an isolated occurrence. Consider Norway’s ‘no’ to membership of the European Community (EC). The major reason for Oslo’s refusal is that membership would mean giving up farm subsidies and embracing free trade. Open markets and free competition would sound the death knell for its agricultural sector. However, Norway’s refusal to join the EC does not mean, to paraphrase Samir Amin, ‘delinkage’ from the European colossus: Norway remains a member of the European Economic Area and of NATO. Norway’s soldiers will still patrol Western Europe’s only border with Russia. Its lobsters will still be served in Belgian restaurants.92

What the above case demonstrates, is that states will choose to co-operate with certain other states if they derive benefit from it. However, where such co-operation is not in the national interest, they will either refrain from or qualify the nature of such co-operation.

The academic usefulness of the concept of national self-interest in attempts to understand the behaviour of states, is underlined by the confusion critics of realism face in their quest to come to terms with state behaviour. For example, Vale asks: "How is one to explain the regional policy of a country [South Africa] which relied on its neighbours to deliver it from oppression but threatens to turn on an electric fence to keep them out."93

The answer to this question obviously relates to the fact that it is not in South Africa’s interest to have millions of illegal immigrants from neighbouring countries (irrespective of their contribution to the ‘struggle’) entering South Africa. Moreover, biological research has demonstrated how self-interest on the part of states is readily explicable from a consideration of biological and cultural forces that have shaped human history from the beginnings of time.94 For instance, Hatcher95 delineates the biological roots of self-interest, and reveals how self-interest at the group or national level is a logical outgrowth of biological considerations. Moreover, it is argued that many of the factors which limit selfishness at the individual level are absent at the intergroup or international level. According to Hatcher this leads to unbridled self-interest at these levels, practically guaranteeing a world of conflict between groups and nations.

Those who are still unconvinced of the predominance of national self-interest in global politics should simply ponder the following question: can they provide an example of one country which conducts it foreign policy without considering its national interest?

What the above demonstrates is that interdependence and integration are not some forerunner of the emergence of a global polity heralding the disappearance of the State. It must rather be viewed simply as the workings of the national interest. Concomitant to this there can be no talk of a ‘waning state’.

Global communications

Another argument is levelled against the utility of the State in this contemporary period. This relates to the so-called communications revolution which has transformed planet Earth into a ‘global village’,96 which, it is argued, has undermined state sovereignty.

Three criticisms, however, can be levelled against this statement. In the first instance, one can question the extent of this supposedly global communications revolution, when more than half the world’s population have no access (let alone ownership) to a telephone or television.97 Thus, while the telephone has been superseded by the fax machine and e-mail in Johannesburg, residents of Nongoma have to rely on the daily bus to the ‘big city’ of Ulundi. Other rural areas in South Africa cannot even boast a bus to show that they are also part of the global communications revolution. In other words, while 89 per cent of white South Africans have a telephone, only eight per cent of black South Africans have the same privilege.98

Secondly, one should not confuse advances in ‘global’ communications with a decrease in sovereignty. Post-modernists posit, for instance, that CNN broadcasts into a foreign state result in the penetration of that country’s sovereignty. However, such penetration has always been with us - it is only its current form that differs - with no reduction in state sovereignty. Consider the limited success a French official would have had in intercepting carrier pigeons from Prussian agents inside France giving the exact positions and strengths of Louis Napoleon’s armies at Sedan and Metz before the Franco-Prussian war in 1870. Or consider the success of apartheid’s civil servants in sealing off ordinary South Africans from the rest of the world. More prosaically, one may well ask when a successful penetration does occur - as in CNN broadcasts during the Gulf War (1990-1991) - whether this necessarily influence the local population in any fundamental way. After all, Saddam Hussein still watches CNN in his presidential palace in Baghdad!

Finally, the prevalent benign view of the world communications revolution may be challenged and far more sinister things may be read into it. Consider the role of SKY television during the Falklands War, or CNN’s reportage of the alleged Libyan bombing of the Pan Am flight over Lockerbie, and its ‘global objectivity’ may rightfully be questioned. In fact, it may be concluded in both these instances, that London and Washington benefited from the coverage. Can this be seen as a new kind of ‘imperialism of the airwaves’? After all, one cannot foresee a global news giant like CNN emerging from the world’s poorest country, Mozambique, whether it is privately or state-owned. As such, can the global communications revolution not be viewed as one more way in which stronger states continue to control the destinies of weaker states - as has been the case for ages?

Global culture

Walker99 posits the notion of an emergent global culture which once more undermines sovereignty; and thereby the State. Two criticisms, however, can be levelled against this view.

Firstly, the State has been faced historically with such penetration, but it has proved to be adaptable and resistant: there is no historical evidence to prove that the introduction of a foreign culture has resulted in the weakening of the State. For instance, the introduction of Zen Buddhism to Japan by Aesai in 1191 AD showed no indication of weakening the State.

Secondly, contemporary developments suggest that we should be more cautious when talking of a ‘global culture’. The world is seeing the emergence (or re-emergence) of various cultural chauvinisms. Recently, the French government has decided to urge its civil servants to limit the use of English in official correspondence. In addition, Paris has seen fit to complain to Washington about the dumping of Hollywood movies in France. Paris claimed that the plethora of American movies in the country would adversely affect French culture.

The emergence of a narrow-minded ethnic nationalism also belies the notion of a ‘global culture’. This can be seen in the various ethnic secessionist movements in Africa, India, Eastern Europe, Canada, Belgium, Spain, the United Kingdom, and Brazil. It can be seen in the tremendous support for nationalistically narrow-minded politicians - Vladimir Zhirinovsky in Russia, Jean-Marie le Pen in France, Pat Buchanan and David Duke in the US. It can also be seen in the xenophobia sweeping through much of Western Europe, the US and South Africa on the issue of illegal immigrants. It can be seen in the attacks on foreigners in the streets of Johannesburg, in the back alleys of Birmingham and Minneapolis, as well as throughout Europe and Asia.100

The above would render talk of a ‘global culture’ as a precursor to a global polity, as superfluous.

The State and the new security agenda

It has been argued that threats to security in the 1990s arise increasingly from world-wide processes - potentially massive ecological disruptions, drug-trafficking, refugees and AIDS. It is asserted that these transnational security threats necessitate that states co-operate with each other (the emergence of collective security) - thereby diminishing state sovereignty.101

While it is true that insecurity is increasingly taking on a transnational character, there is no evidence that this necessarily leads to inter-state co-operation. Consider the new ecological threats to security and its effects on state behaviour. Southern Africa is an arid region, with water a valuable commodity. In 1992 Zimbabwe decided to build a dam on the Saabi river. The Botswana government, realising that this would decrease the flow of water downstream, was against it. They maintained that Harare’s insistence to build the dam constituted a national security threat to Botswana. So severe was this crisis that, at one stage, Gabarone had placed its troops on alert. A similar incident occurred between the State of California and Mexico in the 1980s over the waters of the Rio Grande.102 Recently, Spain and Canada were involved in a fierce diplomatic tiff over Spanish trawlers ‘overfishing’ off Canadian shores. This has seen the Canadian navy mobilised and Madrid dispatching destroyers to Canada.

The underlying point is that scarce natural resources has not fostered a spirit of co-operation, but has rather fuelled the fires of interstate rivalry. A similar point can be made regarding refugees. As mentioned above, the ‘refugee problem’ has resulted in strong nationalist feelings, bordering on xenophobia. The resultant anti-foreigner sentiments has not exactly helped the case of regional (or even global) co-operation.

There such co-operation does exist, states jealously ensure that their sovereignty is not encroached upon. Consider here the Conference on Security and Co-operation in Europe (CSCE) which formed part of the Helsinki process. The Final Act was signed on 1 August 1975 by 35 states (33 European states plus the US and Canada). The 35 signatories agreed to abide by certain ‘guiding principles’ in their international relations. Some of these principles were respect for sovereign equality, inviolability of frontiers, and non-intervention in the internal affairs of member states.103

Once more one can conclude that the new security agenda does not mean the ‘withering away of the State’.

The postmodern alternative to the State and the realist critique

We have seen a great many criticisms levelled against the state-centric bias of realists, but what would be an alternative form of political community? In answer to this question Booth makes the following observation: "Modern states are too large to satisfy some human needs, and too small to cope with the requirements of guidance for an increasingly interdependent planet. The logical conclusion of this argument is that power should be more diffuse. It is desirable to take it away from states to more local communities (to cater for cultural diversity, for example), while wider problems such as economic and environmental issues, could be more effectively dealt with by designated regional or global function organisations."104

If this is an alternative to the State, then it is indeed a poor substitute. Consider the idea that power should be more diffuse. Whether one talks of a strongly centralised unitary state or a federal state with the devolution of power (thereby empowering local communities), it is still a state. Thus, it is not an argument against the State, it is an argument against a specific type of state (unitary) in favour of another type of state (federal). If Booth is talking about even greater autonomy to cater for cultural diversity, how might this apply to the South African scenario? Apartheid South Africa justified its bantustan policies following a similar type of logic. More recently, Inkatha has been using a similar kind of logic in order to entrench itself in the KwaZulu-Natal Legislature; and the possibility of another Biafra or Katanga developing in that troubled region is becoming increasingly real.

Booth’s other idea that ‘wider problems such as economic and environmental issues could be more effectively dealt with by regional or global function organisations’ should also be questioned. In the first instance, economic regimes like the Uruguay Round of the General Agreement on Trade And Tariffs (GATT) which led to the formation of the World Trade Organisation (WTO) have failed to achieve its stated objective of ‘tariff disarmament’ as trade relations between the US and Japan indicate. Neither is this an isolated incident, if the ‘chicken wars’ between South Africa and the US are anything to go by. On the question of environmental regimes one may simply point out how global environmental concerns floundered in the high seas of national self-interest at the Rio Earth Summit in 1992.105

To emphasise the point, both brutally and simply, there is no practical alternative to the State. Walker says that "[t]he state is a political category in a way that the world, or the globe, or the planet, or humanity is not."106

Also stressing the centrality of the State, UN Secretary-General Boutros Boutros-Ghali observes: "The foundation-stone of this work [ie. peace and economic development] is and must remain the State. Respect for its fundamental sovereignty and integrity are crucial to any common international progress."107

But, the most powerful argument for the State comes not from its many and varied successes, but rather from its failure. State collapse, as in Somalia, has not been met by cries of jubilation from its ‘emancipated’ inhabitants as Booth would have us believe.108 Rather, tragedy and misery has greeted Somalians with its collapse. This is why the State must and should remain the primary referent in domestic and international affairs. The principle of state sovereignty is the most plausible way of reconciling claims about the universal and the particular, society and the individual. Without the apparatus of a strong state, the way becomes clear for the Mohammed Farah Aideeds of the world to appear. Without the apparatus of a strong state, the world will be plunged into Somali-style warlordism of the Dark Age variety.

Conclusion

The post-modern/critical theory challenge to realism has been tested, and proved wanting. Realism remains the single most reliable analytical framework through which to understand and evaluate global change. Post-modernism can provide no practical alternatives to the realist paradigm. We know what a realist world looks like (we are living in one!); but what does a post-modernist world look like? As long as humanity is motivated by hate, envy, greed and egotism, realism will continue to be invaluable to the policy-maker and the scholar. In this regard it has to be pointed out that from the end of World War II until 1992, hundreds of major conflicts around the world have left some twenty million human beings dead.109 Neither has the end of the Cold War showed any sign that such conflict will end. By the end of 1993 a record of 53 wars were being waged in 37 countries across the globe.110 Until a fundamental change in human nature occurs, realism will continue to dominate the discipline of international relations. The most fundamental problem with post-modernism is that it assumes a more optimistic view of human nature. Srebrenica, Bihac, Tuzla, Zeppa, Goma, Chechnya, Ogoniland, and KwaZulu-Natal all bear testimony to the folly of such a view.

Ecuador and Peru in Border War, Weekly Mail & Guardian, 10 February 1995.



J. George, Discourses of Global Politics: A Critical Reintroduction to International Relations, Lynne Rienner, Boulder, Colorado, 1993a, p. 126.



K. Booth, A Security Regime in Southern Africa: Theoretical Considerations, Southern African Perspectives: A Working Paper Series, 30, 1994, pp. 1-3.



R.B.J. Walker, Security, Sovereignty and the Challenge of World Politics, Alternatives, 15, 1990, p. 3; George, op. cit., 1993a, pp. 72-74; K. Booth, Security and Emancipation, Review of International Studies, 17, 1991c, p. 313.



Booth, Security in Anarchy: Utopian Realism in Theory and Practice, University College of Wales, Aberystwyth, 1991a, p. 2.



H. Morgenthau, Politics among Nations, Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 1960; Booth, ibid., 1991a, p. 2.



G. Evans & J. Newnham, The Dictionary of World Politics: A Reference Guide to Concepts, Ideas and Institutions, Harvester-Wheatsheaf, 1992, p. 277.



Walker, op. cit., p. 7; George; op. cit., 1993a, p. 200; Booth, op. cit., 1991c, p. 313; X. Carim, Critical and Postmodern Readings of Strategic Culture in the 1990s, paper read at the conference on A Culture of Peace in Commemoration of Dr Martin Luther King, jr., University of Zimbabwe, Harare, 13-17 February 1995, p. 2.



Evans and Newnham, op. cit., p. 277.



Evans and Newnham, ibid.



H. Solomon, Democratizing the United Nations: Theoretical and Practical Considerations, paper read at the conference on Global Change - Imperatives for the South, Brackenfell, 23 - 25 February 1994, p. 16.



Evans and Newnham, op. cit.



George, op. cit., 1993a, pp. 14-15.



Evans and Newnham, op. cit., pp. 216-217.



George, op. cit., 1993a, pp. 25-29; H. Solomon, Global Change and the Challenge to International Relations Theory, Politeia, 14(1), 1995.



S. Seidman & D.G. Wagner, The Postmodern Challenge, in Seidman & Wagner (eds.) Postmodernism and Social Theory, Blackwell, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1992, p. 1.



Ibid.



George, op. cit., 1993a; J. George, Of Incarceration and Closure: Neo-Realism and the New/Old World Order, Millennium: Journal of International Affairs, 1993b; Walker, op. cit., 1990; Booth, op. cit., 1991a; Booth, op. cit., 1994, P. Vale, Of Laagers, Lepers and Leanness: South Africa and Regional Security in the mid-1990s, Chr. Michelsen Institute, Bergen, Norway, 1994; K. Booth & P. Vale, Security in Southern Africa: After Apartheid, Beyond Realism, International Affairs Bulletin, 71(2), 1995; Carim, op. cit.



George, ibid., 1993a, p. 12; Walker, op. cit., p. 7.



George, ibid., 1993a, pp. 44-54.



Carim, op. cit., p. 4; George, ibid., 1993a, p. 4.



George, ibid., 1993a, p. 29.



Carim, op. cit., p. 3.



George, op. cit., 1993b, p. 197.



George, op. cit., 1993a, p. 4; Carim, op. cit., p. 5; this will be discussed later in the section entitled ‘Realism and the Nostradamus Option’.



Carim, op. cit., pp. 2-4.



George, op. cit., 1993a, pp. 44-54.



Walker, op. cit., 1990, p. 7.



Ibid., p. 12.



Booth, op. cit., 1991a, p. 6.



J. Turner, The Promise of Positivism, in Seidman & Wagner, op. cit., 1992; R. Collins, the Confusion of the Modes of Sociology, in Seidman & Wagner, ibid.; D. Wagner, Daring Modesty: On Metatheory, Observation and Theory Growth, in Seidman & Wagner, ibid.; R. D’Amico, Defending Social Science against the Postmodern Doubt, in Seidman & Wagner, ibid.; S. Aronowitz, The Tension of Critical Theory: Is Negative Dialectics all there is?, in Seidman & Wagner, ibid.



Seidman & Wagner, op. cit., p. 8.



George, op. cit., 1993a, p. 70.



Carim, op. cit., p. 15.



George, op. cit., 1993a, p. 70.



Booth, op. cit., 1991a, p. 6.



K.N. Waltz, Theory of International Politics, Pelican, Harmondsworth, 1979.



George, op. cit., 1993a, p. 118; pareto-optimal outcomes refers to a fulfilment of utilitarian interests.



J.L. Gaddis, The United States and the End of the Cold War: Implications, Reconsideration, Provocation, Oxford University Press, Oxford, 1992, p. 53; G.F. Keenan, The Nuclear Delusion: Soviet-American Relations in the Atomic Age, Hamish Hamilton, London, 1984.



Booth, op. cit., 1991a, p. 6; Booth, op. cit., 1991b.



Gaddis, op. cit., p. 58.



Booth, op. cit., 1991a, p. 6.



F.A. Boyle, World Politics and International Law, Duke University Press, Durham, North Carolina, 1975, pp. 70-74.



Keenan, op. cit.



Booth, op. cit., 1991b, p. 48.



W.T.R. Fox, E.H. Carr and Political Realism: Vision and Revision, Review of International Studies, 11, 1985, pp. 1-16.



George, op. cit., 1993a, p. 104.



Vale, op. cit., pp. 11-12, 14.



Carim, op. cit., p. 5.



George, op. cit., 1993a, p. 4.



Gaddis, op. cit., p. 76.



Ibid., p. 77.



Ibid., p. 78.



Ibid., p. 79.



Ibid., p. 4.



Ibid.



Ibid., p. 155.



Ibid., p. 156.



George, op. cit., 1993a, p. 193.



Ibid.



Ibid., p. 195.



Evans and Newnham, op. cit., p. 277.



George, op. cit., 1993a, p. 3.



Walker, op. cit., p. 8.



Vale, op. cit., pp. 28-29.



Ibid., pp. 11-14.



E.H. Carr, the Twenty Years’ Crisis 1919-1939: An Introduction to the Study of International Relations, Macmillan, London, 1966, p. 89.



Ibid.



Ibid., p. 10.



For Carr the ‘essential ingredients of all effective political thinking’ were ‘a finite goal, an emotional appeal, a right of moral judgement and a ground for action’.



Carr, op. cit., p. 89.



Note the similarity of the position in which South African foreign policy-makers find themselves.



Gaddis, op. cit., p. 59.



Quoted in ibid.



Ibid., p. 60.



Ibid.



George, op. cit., 1993a, p. 204.



R.J. Vincent, Human Rights and International Relations, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1986, pp. 123-125.



H. Bull, The Anarchical Society: A Study of Order in World Politics, Macmillan, London, 1977.



Evans and Newnham, op. cit., p. 12.



Evans and Newnham, ibid., p. 50.



George, op. cit., 1993a, p. 72.



Carim, op. cit., p. 2.



D. Campbell, Global Inscription: How Foreign Policy Constitutes the United States, Alternatives, 15, 1990, p. 271.



C.C. Rodee, T.J. Anderson, C.Q. Christol & T.H. Greene, Introduction to Political Science, McGraw-Hill & Kogakusha, Tokyo, 1976, p. 20.



Carim, op. cit., p. 15; George, op. cit., 1993a, p. 204; Vale, op. cit., p. 10.



Vale, ibid., pp. 18-19.



Ibid., p. 3.



Walker, op. cit., pp. 18-22.



S. Chan, Issues in International Relations: A View from Africa, Macmillan, London, 1987, p. 173; R. Manning & P. Stern, the Myth of the Pacific Community, Foreign Affairs, 73(6), 1994, pp. 79-93.



The Economist, 3 December 1994.



2Ibid.



Vale, op. cit., p. 2.



R. Dawkins, the Selfish Gene, Oxford University Press, New York, 1976; J.J. Mansbridge (ed.), Beyond Self-Interest, University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1990; R.P. Shaw & Y. Wong, Genetic Seeds of Warfare, Evolution, Nationalism and Patriotism, Unwin & Hyman, Boston, 1989; E.O. Wilson, Sociobiology: the New Synthesis, Harvard University PRess, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1975.



J.W. Hatcher, the Problem of Self-interest: From Gene to International Relations, The Indian Ocean Review, 8-11 December 1994, pp. 8-11.



Carim, op. cit.



Sunday Times, 12 March 1995.



P. Pillay, Poverty in South Africa: An Overview, paper read at the seminar on Poverty in South Africa, Centurion, 25-26 April 1995, p. 27.



Walker, op. cit., p. 4.



H. Solomon, In Search of Canaan: A Critical Evaluation of the Causes and Effects of Migration within Southern Africa, and Strategies to Cope with them, Southern African Perspectives: A Working Paper Series, 24, 1993, pp. 18-20; M. Simpson, the Experience of Nation-Building: Some Lessons for South Africa, Southern African Perspectives: A Working Paper Series, 26, 1993.



Walker, op. cit., p. 3; Vale, op. cit., p. 3; George, op. cit., 1993a, p. 209.



Solomon, op. cit., 1995.



Evans and Newnham, op. cit., p. 52.



Booth, op. cit., 1994, p. 14.



J.G. Speth, A Post-Rio Compact, Foreign Policy, 88. 1992.



Walker, op. cit., p. 5.



B. Boutros-Ghali, An Agenda for Peace: Preventive Diplomacy, Peacemaking and Peace-keeping, United Nations, New York, 1992, p. 9.



Booth, op. cit., 1991c, pp. 313-326.



Boutros-Ghali, op. cit., p. 7.



A. Bendana, A New Global Order, paper read at the conference on Global Change - Imperatives for the South, Brackenfell, 23-25 February 1994, p. 3.