Out of School

One of the admirable things about raspberries is that different sorts seem to get along pretty well with each other.

One of the admirable things about raspberries is that different sorts seem to get along pretty well with each other. A few weeks after moving my family into Chestnut Nook, I set out two dozen raspberry seedlings-six each of four different varieties with different fruiting seasons, to ensure a rolling harvest. Things have worked out fine: all the varieties have thrived, given good yields and, best of all, seem to respect each other's space. Conservatives focused on foreign policy and national security could take a lesson.

We have witnessed in recent weeks an eruption of antagonism-some of it uncharacteristically personal-between what is generically called the camp of neo-conservatives and the camp of conservative realists. Accusations of "appeasement" and "irresponsibility" have been flying, the subject closest to hand being policy toward Iraq. But, as everyone who pays attention to these matters knows, differences of attitude and temperament are at work here, and these differences, along with their personal and policy legacies, go back many years. Some characterize recent disputations as keepers of the Reaganite neo-conservative flame versus keepers of the Bush41 realist flame, the sharpness of contention explained by the fact that both set of keepers are represented in the Bush43 Administration-and that the President seems to have a genuinely open mind about several portentous, still-to-be-determined issues.

The recent eruptions, however, are dismaying for several reasons. First, when emotions invade logic in high places, there is a danger that the dispassion necessary to think effectively about consequential courses of action will be compromised. Second, whatever their differences, conservative realists and neo-conservatives still have far more in common with each other than either "school" does with know-nothing isolationists, "blame America" leftists, or liberals who only get excited about sending American soldiers into harm's way when they're sure no serious U.S. national interest is at stake. But the spleen spilling of late has led some writers to reify these schools of thought, when, in truth, "pure" realists or neo-conservatives are difficult to find. Thus, for example, a Wall Street Journal editorial, of August 19, read as follows:

Which brings us to. . .a point of view worth debating. . . . This view describes itself as realism. It upholds national interest narrowly defined, striving for balance of power in the old European sense. It resists a foreign policy with a strong moral component or one designed to expand U.S. principles and democracy. So it typically favors "stability," even when it's imposed by dictators, over democratic aspiration.

The editorial proceeds to declaim realism's supposedly poor track-listing the standard contentious judgments that have become the policy commentariat's version of the movie "Groundhog Day"-and then lambastes Secretary of State Colin Powell and the State Department with him:

Colin Powell was complicit in all of those mistaken judgments, as was the State Department over which he now presides and which is usually the home of such Realpolitik.


This description implies that there is a single one-size-fits-all conception of realism, one so programmatically inflexible that it leads all realists to the same conclusions on discrete policy issues. This is not true. The editorial suggests, too, that all realists today accept some realists' skepticism about the wisdom of a pre-emptive war against Iraq, and that if Henry Kissinger is not so skeptical about such a war, then it can only be because he is less a realist than he used to be. This is not true either.

Nor is the general description of realism, as stated, quite right. Idealists have always tried to appropriate the labels "moral" and "democratic" for themselves, and since Woodrow Wilson, if not before, American idealists have disparaged the "old European" concept of "the balance of power." This has always been, and remains, humbug. To an unvarnished idealist, something is "moral" when it is maximally abstract and worn on one's sleeve. Such idealism assumes that the task of attending in a stolid, quotidian way to the structure of relations among major powers (i.e., those powers capable of killing the maximum number of people should things go wrong with this structure) somehow lacks moral significance. A moment's reflection reveals how mistaken such an assumption is, but such moments, it seems, are rare in some lives.

As to democracy, our Enlightenment forbears and the Founding Fathers all understood that not all peoples are inclined to or are ready for democracy, but some idealists seem unable to imagine any downside to attempts at imposing a political system on peoples whose experience is antithetical to it. This is what can happen when one's grip on reality is loosened by what amounts to theology. Realists do not oppose the spread of democracy; they are just more circumspect about its prospects and the ancillary repercussions, amid concerns about other values, of trying to force it on people who may not want or understand it.