Walter Russell Mead

Bought as a bookshop remainder in 2010, I recently picked this book up as my next read. However, a glance through the covernotes and blurb changed my mind.
I got the impression that the book trumpets the great deeds of the west (= USA, with some others) in establishing a fine world order.
Well, much has chaged in the 15 years since the book was written. The "new world order" is looking a little frayed and tatty, and any projections based on a 2007 world view now lookk highly dubious.
Pass.… (więcej)

It's been 14 years since Walter Russell Mead's God and Gold was published. That's one global financial crisis, one global pandemic, one Brexit, two Presidents (and starting the first term of a third), and a US insurrection ago. Does this book still have anything to tell us about "Britain, America, and the making of the Modern World"? Well, perhaps.

Despite that subtitle, this book is not a history of how Britain and America made the modern world order. It's not a history book at all, which the author acknowledges in his introduction. It's more of a philosophical dissertation. Mead takes as a given the "Anglo-Saxon" primacy in creating the modern world order, and proceeds to lay out what he sees as the underlying conditions that led to the leadership role of these two nations.

There's a lot to quibble with about this book.

First off, it's well documented, with appropriate footnotes, but there is much too much taken as given. Mead never really defines the "modern world order" that the whole book is about. Is it economic, legal, moral, technological, industrial, military, diplomatic? Mead, I think, might argue that it's all or at least pieces of all of the above, but by not defining it, he gives himself free rein to marshal his argument unfettered by definitional constraints.

Secondly, this book is way too long for the case it's trying to make. Mead wanders. And wanders. While wandering with him was fun in parts, you do get to the end of the book asking yourself whether all that wandering really bolstered the argument he's trying to make.

Mead does have a likable writing style - he keeps things moving and provides a "light touch" even when the topics of discussion are heavy subjects. He covers a lot of ground, he raises a number of points, he posits a number of arguments. Then, in the final chapter he tells you what it all means (the name of the chapter is literally "The Meaning of It All"). Like the rest of the book this is a pretty generalized discussion, but basically it says that global capitalism will eventually lead the whole world to, not Utopia, but to a "perpetual revolution" of higher and more transcendental human meaning. Really.

So does this book have anything to tell us 14 years later? About as much as it did when published. Which is to say - there is a lot of interesting stuff here, and it might lead you to pick up some of the works he references in his arguments, but ultimately, for me, it doesn't build to a wholistic, convincing argument.… (więcej)

Spoiler Alert!

Walter Russell Mead’s book is a must-read for anyone interested in U.S. foreign policy. This book has the benefit of being clearly written, engaging, and at times even a little tongue-in-cheek. The book was so good that I read it twice. This isn’t a first impression review; it’s a second impression review.

Mead’s examines the way four traditions shaped how America conducted its foreign affairs. At the heart of his books is the revisionist perspective that democracy does not necessarily lead to an inferior foreign policy, that policy makers can learn a great deal by studying the early patterns of US foreign policy, and that there is a special kind of American diplomacy that is discernable by studying the historical record.

If the old, crusty autocrats with their chessboards and amoral calculations can be called the “auteur”-style of diplomacy; then democracies like the U.S. are closer to “studio”-system style foreign policy, doing things through consensus and meetings. If democracies can’t create the “genius” of the grand masters with their chessboard calculations, then at the very least they don’t make the disastrous mistakes that often come with the hubris of genius.

The four distinct traditions that Mead outlines are as follows: Hamiltonians, who believed that a strong alliance between national government and big business was the key to effective policy abroad and at home--and that the US should engage in a global trading system; Wilsonians, who believed that the US had a moral obligation to spread democratic and social ideals; Jeffersonians, who thought that Americans should be less concerned with promoting democracy and more worried about protecting it at home; and Jacksonians, who believed that the most important role for government should be the physical security and economic well-being of its citizens (xvii).

Mead’s examination of charges regarding the naivety of US foreign policy demonstrates how much these criticisms of the US are either contradictory or confused—much of these criticisms tend to attribute the success of US foreign policy to blind luck; but also, Mead demonstrates how much of these criticisms are dependant on a very limited continental realism. Mead does two things very well in offsetting these critiques: one, he shows how in contrast to continental realist visions of the “auteur” as the master of a foreign policy, US foreign policy was often much more like a symphony (p. 39); and two, he demonstrates how the foreign policy of the United States was often much more than just the actions of its government (i.e. missionary and business interest played a very extensive role as well). Despite the often chaotic nature of US foreign policy—Mead notes especially the Cold War as time of seeming chaos—he also shows how the country can be remarkably consistent when it comes to important policies (like containment of the Soviet Union).

Mead also builds a mini-theory of national myth. National myth must be “clearer than truth” (as Dean Acheson is quoted as saying), a distillation of the facts into a simple understanding of historical tradition that can be used to galvanize the public (p. 61). Part of the project of the book, then, is reconstituting or reclaiming a myth from the wreckage of the Cold War (which is largely associated with continental realism). Reclaiming aspects of the old mythos requires understanding the four traditions at the heart of US politics.

In terms of the Hamiltonian tradition, Mead notes how they speak the language of continental realism, usually come from upper class households, and typically have ties to Anglo-Saxon origins. This tradition is both realist and idealist (the serpent and the dove)—realist in that it often takes a mercantilist approach to economics (the US was content to free ride on the British system, exporting while failing to liberalize its markets), but idealist in that it emphasizes that trade and commerce are a superior form of competition as compared with war. Mead also notes how in this formulation, open seas and open markets are often seen as “natural” (p. 107): thus the US is not above gunboat diplomacy to open markets.

In terms of Wilsonians, Mead shows how this tradition evolved out of early missionary work. He impressively links this tradition with modern ideas of a global civil society and modern relief NGOs like World Vision and Catholic Relief Service (p. 146). Eventually, the protection of missionaries and foreign property would lead to negotiations to reduce human rights abuses (p. 148). To illustrate how much influence these missionaries had, Mead notes that one survey found that around 50 percent of the foreign culture experts during WWII were the offspring of missionaries.

In terms of Jeffersonians this group, much like Jacksonians, are much more introspective and cautious about the world affairs and the prospects of the other countries becoming more like America. This tradition emphasizes the uniqueness of American democracy and the need to preserve it domestically. At the heart of Jeffersonian concerns are the negative effects of a strong government and big business that typically flourish from large entangling alliances overseas. Unlike the Wilsonians, while Jeffersonians believe that democracy is the best form of government, they are usually pessimistic about the likeliness of preserving it (and especially of promoting it overseas). Thus by defining national interests as narrowly as possible, and by promoting foreign policy as economically as possible, they hope to preserve a healthy democracy domestically.

In terms of Jacksonians, Mead notes that this group can be defined by its vibrant folk culture, its emphasis on pulling ones own weight, and military service and institutions as a redeeming for the nation. Building on the ethnic component of the book, this group’s roots are traced to the Scotch-Irish who first fought brutal wars on the frontier between England and Scotland, and then fought the Native Americans in the frontiers. The author notes, however, how this trend has now become “crab grass” Jacksonian, with much of the values being consumed by immigrant populations now serving in the military and the expansive middle class that considers honest hard work the backbone of the country (p. 231). Looking at what Mead describes as the Jacksonian idea of a “popular hero to restore government” explain why a persona like George W. Bush would be so popular (p. 239).

Mead’s final argument is that with the end of the Cold War consensus, the US needs to re-forge an understanding of the various trends that influence foreign policy. However, Mead seems divided about the relative merits about these four trends and whether this dis-consensus is a strength or weakness of the American system.

I found very little to dislike about this book. But if I had to nitpick, I might ask the question: Has the U.S. (other than the time of Nixon and Kissinger) embraced “continental realism”?

Though Mead seems to find the balancing of these disparate groups in a democracy to have a tempering effect on national hubris, preventing the worst excesses of elite groups, he also notes that US foreign policy has been strongest in times such as the Cold War and the Monroe Doctrine when debate was relatively static within these institutions. His call toward the end of the book for “considered public judgment” (p. 324) and “debate” (p. 325) seems to be little more than a call for consensus, which actually contradicts somewhat his argument the democratic foreign policy by committee approach is superior to an “auteur” approach.… (więcej)