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Title: Superpower and Failed States
Author: Noam Chomsky
Date: April 5, 2006
Language: en
Topics: state power
Source: Retrieved on 1st October 2021 from https://chomsky.info/20060405/
Notes: — Excerpts from Failed States by Noam Chomsky 2006 by Harry Chomsky, reprinted by permission of Metropolitan Books, Henry Holt and Co., LLC.

Noam Chomsky

Superpower and Failed States

The selection of issues that should rank high on the agenda of concern

for human welfare and rights is, naturally, a subjective matter. But

there are a few choices that seem unavoidable, because they bear so

directly on the prospects for decent survival. Among them are at least

these three: nuclear war, environmental disaster and the fact that the

government of the world’s leading power is acting in ways that increase

the likelihood of these catastrophes.

It is important to stress the “government,” because the population, not

surprisingly, does not agree. That brings up a fourth issue that should

deeply concern Americans, and the world: the sharp divide between public

opinion and public policy, one of the reasons for the fear, which cannot

casually be put aside, that “the American ‘system’ as a whole is in real

trouble — that it is heading in a direction that spells the end of its

historic values (of) equality, liberty and meaningful democracy,” as Gar

Alperovitz observes in America Beyond Capitalism.

The “system” is coming to have some of the features of failed states, to

adopt a currently fashionable notion that is conventionally applied to

states regarded as potential threats to our security (like Iraq) or as

needing our intervention to rescue the population from severe internal

threats (like Haiti).

The definition of “failed states” is hardly scientific. But they share

some primary characteristics. They are unable or unwilling to protect

their citizens from violence and perhaps even destruction. They regard

themselves as beyond the reach of domestic or international law, hence

free to carry out aggression and violence. And if they have democratic

forms, they suffer from a serious “democratic deficit” that deprives

their formal democratic institutions of real substance. One of the

hardest tasks that anyone can undertake, and among the most important,

is to look honestly in the mirror. If we allow ourselves to do so, we

should have little difficulty in finding the characteristics of “failed

states” right at home.

That recognition of reality should be deeply troubling to those who care

about their countries and future generations — “countries,” plural,

first because of the enormous reach of U.S. power, but also because the

problems are not localised in space or time, though there are important

variations, of particular significance for US citizens.

The “democratic deficit” was illustrated clearly by the 2004 elections.

The results led to exultation in some quarters, despair in others and

much concern about a “divided nation.” Colin Powell informed the Press

that “President George W. Bush has won a mandate from the American

people to continue pursuing his ‘aggressive’ foreign policy.’ That is

far from true. It is also very far from what the population believes.

After the elections, Gallup asked whether Bush “should emphasise

programmes that both parties support,” or whether he “has a mandate to

advance the Republican Party’s agenda,” as Powell and others claimed —

and 63 per cent chose the former option; 29 per cent the latter.

The elections conferred no mandate for anything, in fact, they barely

took place, in any serious sense of the term “election.” History

provides ample evidence of Washington’s disregard for international laws

and norms, reaching new heights today. Granted, there have always been

pretexts, but that is true of every state that resorts to force at will.

Throughout the Cold War years, the framework of “defence against

Communist aggression” was available to mobilise domestic support for

countless interventions abroad. Then at last the communist-menace device

began to wear thin. By 1979, “the Soviets were influencing only 6 per

cent of the world population and 5 per cent of the world GNP” outside

its borders, according to the Centre for Defense Information. The basic

picture was becoming harder to evade.

The government also faced domestic problems, notably the civilizing

effects of the activism of the 1960s, which had many consequences, among

them less willingness to tolerate the resort to violence.

Under President Reagan, the administration sought to deal with the

problems by fevered pronouncements about the “evil empire” and its

tentacles everywhere about to strangle us. But new devices were needed.

The Reaganites declared their worldwide campaign to destroy “the evil

scourge of terrorism,” particularly state-backed international terrorism

— which Reagan secretary of state George Shultz called a “plague spread

by depraved opponents of civilization itself (in a) return to barbarism

in the modern age.”

The official list of states sponsoring terrorism, initiated in Congress

in 1977, was elevated to a prominent place in policy and propaganda.

In 1994, President Clinton expanded the category of “terrorist states”

to include “rogue states.” A few years later another concept was added

to the repertoire: “failed states,” from which we must protect

ourselves, and which we must help — sometimes by devastating them. Later

came President Bush’s “axis of evil” that we must destroy in

self-defence, following the will of the Lord as transmitted to his

humble servant — meanwhile escalating the threat of terror and nuclear

proliferation.

The rhetoric has always raised difficulties, however. The basic problem

has been that under any reasonable interpretation of the terms — even

official definitions — the categories are unacceptably broad. It takes

discipline not to recognise the elements of truth in historian Arno

Mayer’s immediate post-9/11 observation that since 1947, “America has

been the chief perpetrator of ‘pre-emptive’ state terror” and

innumerable other ‘rogue’ actions,” causing immense harm, “always in the

name of democracy, liberty and justice.”

After Bush took over, mainstream scholarship no longer just reported

world opinion, but began to assert as fact that the US “has assumed many

of the very features of the ‘rogue nations’ against which it has … done

battle” (David C. Hendrickson and Robert W. Tucker, Foreign Affairs,

2004).

The category of “failed state” was invoked repeatedly by the

self-designated “enlightened states” in the 1990s, entitling them to

resort to force with the alleged goal of protecting the populations of

failed, rogue and terrorist states in a manner that may be “illegal but

legitimate” — the phrase used by the Independent Kosovo Commission. As

the leading themes of political discourse shifted from “humanitarian

intervention” to the re-declared “war on terror” after 9/11, the concept

“failed state” was given a broader scope to include states like Iraq

that threaten the US with weapons of mass destruction and international

terrorism.

Under this broader usage, “failed states” need not be weak — which makes

good sense. Nazi Germany and Stalinist Russia were hardly weak, but by

reasonable standards they merit the designation “failed state” as fully

as any in history.

The concept gains many dimensions, including failure to provide security

for the population, to guarantee rights at home or abroad, or to

maintain functioning (not merely formal) democratic institutions. The

concept must surely cover “outlaw states” that dismiss with contempt the

rules of international order and its institutions, carefully constructed

over many years, initially at U.S. initiative.

The government is choosing policies that typify outlaw states, which

severely endangers the population at home and abroad and undermines

substantive democracy.

In crucial respects, Washington’s adoption of the characteristics of

failed and outlaw states is proudly proclaimed. There is scarcely any

effort to conceal “the tension between a world that still wants a fair

and sustainable international legal system, and a single superpower that

hardly seems to care (that it) ranks with Burma, China, Iraq and North

Korea in terms of its adherence to a 17^(th) century, absolutist

conception of sovereignty” for itself, while dismissing as old-fashioned

tommyrot the sovereignty of others, Michael Byers observes in War Law:

Understanding International Law and Armed Conflict.

The US is very much like other powerful states. It pursues the strategic

and economic interests of dominant sectors of the domestic population,

to the accompaniment of impressive rhetorical flourishes about its

exceptional dedication to the highest values. That is practically a

historical universal, and the reason why sensible people pay scant

attention to declarations of noble intent by leaders, or accolades by

their followers.

One commonly hears that carping critics complain about what is wrong,

but do not present solutions. There is an accurate translation for that

charge: “They present solutions, but I don’t like them.”

Here are a few simple suggestions for the US:

Accept the jurisdiction of the International Criminal Court and the

World Court;

Sign and carry forward the Kyoto protocols;

Let the UN take the lead in international crises;

Rely on diplomatic and economic measures rather than military ones in

confronting the grave threats of terror;

Keep to the traditional interpretation of the UN Charter: The use of

force is legitimate only when ordered by the Security Council or when

the country is under imminent threat of attack, in accord with Article

51;

Give up the Security Council veto, and have “a decent respect for the

opinion of mankind,” as the Declaration of Independence advises, even if

power centres disagree;

Cut back sharply on military spending and sharply increase social

spending: health, education, renewable energy and so on.

For people who believe in democracy, these are very conservative

suggestions: They appear to be the opinions of the majority of the US

population, in most cases the overwhelming majority. They are in radical

opposition to public policy; in most cases, to a bipartisan consensus.

Another conservative and useful suggestion is that facts, logic and

elementary moral principles should matter. Those who take the trouble to

adhere to that suggestion will soon be led to abandon a good part of

familiar doctrine, though it is surely much easier to repeat

self-serving mantras.

And there are other simple truths. They do not answer every problem by

any means. But they do carry us some distance toward developing more

specific and detailed answers, as is constantly done. More important,

they open the way to implement them, opportunities that are readily

within our grasp if we can free ourselves from the shackles of doctrine

and imposed illusion. Though it is natural for doctrinal systems to seek

to induce pessimism, hopelessness and despair, reality is different.

There has been substantial progress in the unending question for justice

and freedom in recent years, leaving a legacy that can easily be carried

forward from a higher plane than before.

Opportunities for education and organising abound. As in the past,

rights are not likely to be granted by benevolent authorities, or won by

intermittent actions — attending a few demonstrations or pushing a lever

in the personalised quadrennial extravaganzas that are depicted as

“democratic politics.” As always in the past, the tasks require

dedicated day-by-day engagement to create — in part re-create — the

basis for a functioning democratic culture.

There are many ways to promote democracy at home, carrying it to new

dimensions. Opportunities are ample, and failure to grasp them is likely

to have ominous repercussions: for the country, for the world and for

future generations.