Archive for the ‘political science’ Category
One of the biggest news stories from last week is that a militant group, the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS), has quickly captured key cities in Iraq. CNN asked if ISIS is the first terrorist group to build an Islamic state? Well, the answer is no, as long as you define “terrorist” as “armed political group that targets civilians.”
The have been states founded by organizations that, at one time or another, targeted unarmed civilians. For example, Irgun, a militant Zionist group, included people who would become important in Israeli politics. The nation of East Timor was partially founded by an armed revolutionary group, FreTiLin, which morphed into one of the ruling parties. In terms of Islamic states, one could make the argument that the Taliban was a terrorist group that conquered the secular Afghan state and made it Islamic. There are also various Islamic groups in Africa and Southeast Asia that have conquered territory and have acted like states.
Perhaps what is shocking is that ISIS is doing something uncommon – literally ripping territory from two existing states. Normally, armed revolutionary groups or terrorist groups topple existing elites but otherwise leave boundaries unchanged, or maybe lead a secession. But otherwise, armed, civilian targeting groups are fairly normal aspects of state formation. The relative peace of post-WWII Europe is an anomaly in world history.
A recent article in the Atlantic provides some evidence that the tweets/votes correlation holds up in the recent Indian election:
The direct comparison between volumes of tweets mentioning the different parties shows a similar movement: from a somewhat even distribution—particularly in the mid phases of the campaign between January 28 and March 3, before Kejriwal started his road show in Gujarat and his live Facebook talk—but the BJP took over in the final stages of the campaign.
They should do relative tweet measures, which helps with American data.
For previous More Tweets, More Votes – click here.
I recently reviewed Joshua Busby’s book social movements and foreign policy. He uses a number of case studies from American and European politics to show how moral pleas, in certain contexts, can move policy. From PS: Perspectives in Political Science:
Busby asks a simple question: How do activists affect a state’s foreign policy? He answers with a two-part theory. First, there is the balance of values and costs. Activists may demand something that is expensive or cheap. Similarly, activists may demand policies that have low or high resonance with moral values. Second, activists must successfully interface with gatekeepers, such as legislators or policymakers, who have the power to legitimize the movement’s demands. The author then goes on to support his theory with empirical studies of a range of policy domains, such as AIDS policy and the international courts.
The importance of Busby’s argument is that it is an alternative to the interest-based view of foreign relations, which asserts that states do what they must to protect a narrowly defined resource such as trade, military power, and so forth. His view is that the beliefs of citizens are very important, not because political leaders follow the whims of voters but because domestic public opinion defines a spectrum of possibilities. The moral resonance of an issue defines the political cost of taking an action.
Works like Moral Movements and Foreign Policy illuminate the relationship between sociology and political science. This book is an example of the use of sociological theory to enrich a topic typically associated with political science. The international relations field has been dominated by arguments among realists, liberals, constructivists, and others over state behavior. Social movements have not usually been at the center of this debate. By itself, Busby’s book does not upend these theories, but it does suggest that there is still unexplored territory in IR theory. Social-movement activists are now recognized as a group of actors who are not state elites, nor are they average voters, nor are they marginalized cranks. Rather, they are specialized political entrepreneurs who use tactics ranging from lawsuits to protest to promote their causes. Research on transnational activism documents a global network of actors who influence and create the policy environment for states. By showing when and how activism leads to changes in foreign policy, Busby shows one way that sociology and political science can enrich each other and expand a research area that may appear to be well covered.
One of the interesting features of post-WW2 international politics are tribunals that punish those who conduct genocides. The New Yorker has an interview with Thierry Cruvellier, who has a new book on his work documenting tribunals. For me, the most interesting part was the politics and incentives of these tribunals. On why genocides foreign sponsors escape:
Then, of course, there’s a more embarrassing reason these courts don’t go after foreign responsibility: judges and prosecutors don’t want to get into trouble with permanent members of the U.N. Security Council or Secretariat, which pays most of their salaries. It’s an obvious weakness of these tribunals, but perhaps it’s just not their function. Their credibility problem may lie much more in the poor quality of the investigations, and in the fact that only the weak are prosecuted.
The most shocking part of the interview was when they pointed out some thing I had never though of, but is obvious – the massive tendency to focus on right wing or authoritarian regimes and the near silence on left wing regimes (e.g, Maoism, the Soviets, etc):
You make the key point that the Duch trial was the first international tribunal case to address the crimes of Communism. The Rwanda and Yugoslavia courts, like the prosecutions at Nuremberg and Tokyo, dealt with crimes of ultra-nationalist regimes, which you identify as ideologies of the right. Only the Cambodia tribunal has addressed the crimes of the left, and you say that made human-rights lawyers notably uneasy. You say they had great difficulty addressing the connection between Communist ideology and systematic mass murder. You say that much of the tribunal crowd preferred to imagine the Khmer Rouge as noble until it went awry and became vile—and that some were outright fellow-travellers. For instance, the woman hired by the U.N. to handle Khmer Rouge victims at the Duch trial was an unrepentant Maoist. Why was that? And how did this sympathy for the left affect the general atmosphere of the trial?
There is a historical lineage between the far left and the human-rights movement. In the nineteen-sixties, after Stalin’s terror was widely acknowledged; in the seventies, after Solzhenitsyn’s denunciation of the Gulag; and then, finally, in the eighties, after the horrors of Pol Pot were fully revealed, many Western intellectuals moved from the discredited and disgraced Marxism-Leninism to the ideals of universal human rights. As opposed to the boredom of prosaic reforms, advocating for human rights is, in its own way, another grandiose and poetic enterprise where we, as a people, fight against exploiters. As the French philosopher Raymond Aron astutely noted, human rights, as a political philosophy, is based on a notion of purity. It’s not about taking responsibility for a decision “in unpredicted circumstances, based on incomplete knowledge”—that’s politics, said Aron. Instead, human rights function as a refuge for utopia.
What was interesting to observe at the Khmer Rouge tribunal was that former Western Maoists or fellow-travellers were not transformed, when they became disillusioned with Communism, into skeptical minds. They now presented themselves as human-rights defenders. The appeal of “pure” ideologies seemed irresistible to them. Revolutionaries get indignant about police abuse or ruthless capitalism, and then forgive, in the name of the revolution, every injustice they had otherwise denounced. Interestingly, the moral indignation of human-rights activists can suddenly be silenced when institutions that they helped create and that were supposed to exemplify their ideals—such as international war-crimes tribunals—start violating the very principles they have claimed to stand for. They say that criticism would serve the “enemies” of justice. They begin to accept that the end justifies the means. Double standards widely apply. The drive that often made them efficient when they worked in a hostile environment now, when they are empowered, transforms into an intransigence that can make them very insensitive to realities that don’t fit their ideological paradigm. International tribunals can be a harsh reminder that injustice and unfairness are not incompatible with humanist intentions.
At the Cambodia tribunal, a surprising number of Westerners who did not come from the far left also showed a level of sympathy for the “good intentions” of the Communist project. As a result, the trial was never going to be a trial of Communism as a political philosophy. Instead, it was all about Pol Potism, circumscribed and vilified as a despicable betrayal of a genuine revolutionary ideal. Such leniency would not be seen at trials against ideologies of the right.
There is much more. Highly recommended.
A little while back, I got into a discussion with a student about the role of lawyers in society. As usual, I explained my position that lawyers mostly work at facilitating transactions and wealth transfers (e.g., settlements and damages). While there is value in rule enforcement and reducting transaction costs, they don’t increase the size of the pie.
I also opined that lawyers don’t drive social change. It’s misleading to think that desegregation ended because of a lawsuit. Rather the lawsuit is about institutionalizing policies that are made possible by shifting public opinion. My student then pointed out an interesting thing: one thing that lawyers do is defend the state against society. In other words, when public opinion changes and people litigate, the lawyers often act as “institutional workers” to help the state maintain its legitimacy through the courts.
If you were to summarize the Republican party’s collective memory about its leadership, it would go something like this:
- This dude named Lincoln totally ruled and crushed his enemies, but his one flaw was that he trampled state’s rights.
- [empty space]
- [empty space]
- [empty space]
- Jesus Christ, Reagan was awesome. Especially that part where exhumed Lenin’s body and spiked it atop the Brandenburg Gate.
- [empty space]
- [empty space]
- Mitt Romney
the guy we just nominated and who is the least insanerocks!
This is in contrast with the Democratic collective memory. You can’t expect people to remember every leader from 200 years and they’ll get some stuff wrong, but they actually remember the big ones. Jackson. Wilson. FDR. Kennedy. Even Carter and Clinton get the love. This isn’t to say that Democrats always get history right, but, at the very least, they seem to have a normal, flattering understanding of their history.
A few factors are at work in explaining the GOP’s collective amnesia. First, they’ve elected some real clunkers. Nixon, for example. Bush II will go down as a clunker and is already banned from polite conversation in the GOP. Second, there have been some insanely boring dudes in the GOP, like Calvin Coolidge.
But there’s a deeper reason, one that explains a lot of the memory loss. The GOP of 2014 is a radically different beast than the party of Lincoln. The original GOP was wealthy Northern interests + freedmen and their descendants. Thus, what used to be cool is no longer cool. For example, the presidential Republicans of the 1920s were relatively pro-Black. Not pro-integration in the modern sense, but they did believe that Blacks should have access to Federal jobs, education, and other resources. Also, the GOP wasn’t populist in the Palin/Cruz sense. You had some effective but insanely boring people like Dwight Eisenhower, who was popular at the time but now forgotten among the masses.
So, then, what’s the deal with Reagan? I think Reagan combines two traits: some genuine policy triumphs (e.g., nuclear disarmament) and he was willing to be populist. He also benefited from a historical accident. He happened to be president during the end of communism, an event he shaped but certainly didn’t cause. Thus, in the GOP’s collective memory, he comes off as a successful warrior and a populist.