war

My Realist Journey, Part 4: Navigating the State of Chaos.

Barry Scott Zellen, PhD Liberty , , , , , , , ,

Volume 6 of the States of Mind project: State of Chaos (published as The Art of War in an Asymmetric World).

Volume 4 of my treatise on Constructive Realism, State of Siege, spawned not just one sequel (as volume 3, State of Awe did with State of Doom), but two sequels: the first of which wasThe Art of War in an Asymmetric World: Strategy for the Post-Cold War Era (originally known as State of Chaos), which examined how the international security landscape transformed following the collapse of the Soviet Union. It chronicled how the end of predictable, bipolar Cold War dynamics did not lead to a utopian “End of History,” but rather unleashed a wave of global chaos and entropy. This volume bridges the fields of counterinsurgency (COIN), cyberwarfare, counterterrorism, and international relations theory through several core pillars:

1. Rebellion Against Modernity and Globalization

I position modern asymmetric conflicts—ranging from the 1994 Zapatista uprising in Mexico to Al Qaeda’s global jihad—not as isolated incidents, but as unified reactions against globalization, Western dominance, and forced modernization. Stripped of the stabilizing structures of the Cold War, marginalized populations and radical movements rebelled against state-centric, Western-imposed structures.

2. The Adaptation of American Power

A significant portion of the text analyzes how the United States military and intelligence communities had to radically rewrite their strategic doctrines. Designed to fight massive, conventional nation-states, the U.S. had to pivot during the Global War on Terror (GWOT) to counter decentralized networks, fluid insurgencies, and technological threats like cyberwarfare. I evaluate the theoretical and operational contributions of GWOT-era  military strategists (such as Stanley McRaven and David Ronfeldt) who helped shape these new approaches.

3. The “Fourth Image”: The Tribal Foundations of Order

Expanding on Ken Waltz’s classic “three images” of international relations analysis (the individual, the state, and the international system),  I introduce a Fourth Image: the tribal level. I provocatively argue that in the remote, indigenous, or poorly governed spaces where asymmetric modern wars are actually fought, state-imposed centralized control fundamentally fails.

Instead, I suggest that stable, long-term peace can only be achieved by understanding, cooperating with, and restoring traditional, bottom-up tribal order. In short: my framework shows that modern asymmetric warfare is a clash between globalizing state forces and localized tribal identities, requiring a complete rethink of classical strategic theory for a fragmented world. Rather than entering a harmonious, stable democratic era, the post-Cold War landscape unleashed fractured, non-state elements that defied classical nation-state containment.

Global Disorder: The Post-Cold War Era (Part 1)

The Collapse of Bi-Polar Stability and the Illusion of the Peace Dividend

I introduce my central thesis by challenging the prevailing neoliberal optimism of the early 1990s. The fall of the Berlin Wall prompted western theorists to predict an era dominated by market economies and democratic peace theory. I systematically dismantle this premise, demonstrating that the bipolar confrontation between the United States and the Soviet Union, despite its terrifying nuclear risks, acted as a powerful stabilizing mechanism. This architecture effectively suppressed localized ethnic, tribal, and religious rivalries.

The removal of this overarching systemic pressure did not lead to international integration. Instead, it triggered a massive, systemic phenomenon that I describe as global entropy—a rapid descent into decentralized chaos, fragmentation, and structural decay within weak or artificial nation-states.

Global Entropy and Systemic Decay

In this section, I draw a sharp contrast between classical war and the security challenges of the modern era. While classical interstate competition was defined by institutional order, predictability, and formal declarations, post-Cold War entropy is characterized by its fluidity and lack of structural boundaries. I explore how the vacuum left by superpower retrenchment allowed pre-modern identities to reassert themselves. Entire regions, particularly across the Global South and the post-Soviet periphery, experienced a regression from state-level governance back to sub-state allegiances. I detail this structural decay not as an accidental byproduct of history, but as a predictable consequence of removing systemic equilibrium. The post-Cold War era is therefore defined not by international law, but by a chaotic scramble for localized survival and autonomy.

Rebellion Against Modernity, Globalization, and Western Hegemony

A core pillar of my framework is the ideological reinterpretation of asymmetric warfare. Rather than viewing modern insurgencies, radical groups, and trans-state networks merely as criminal syndicates or isolated terrorist cells, I re-conceptualize them as a unified, deep-seated rebellion against modernity and globalization.

Globalization, driven heavily by Western economic models and digital connectivity, has consistently threatened traditional, localized ways of life. I explore how asymmetric actors leverage asymmetric methods to fight back against what they perceive as an intrusive, homogenizing, and imperialistic Western framework. This resistance manifests across a wide spectrum, from the neo-Zapatista movement (EZLN) in Chiapas, Mexico, which directly opposed global trade pacts like NAFTA, to the rise of radical jihadist networks seeking to overturn Western political influence in the Middle East.

Asymmetrical Conflict and the Information Age (Part 2)

Netwar, Cyberwarfare, and the Revolution in Military Affairs (RMA)

Turning my focus to the technological landscape, I analyze how the Information Age fundamentally disrupted the traditional distribution of power. During the Cold War, cutting-edge military technology required the immense industrial and financial backing of a superpower. The digital revolution completely inverted this dynamic by democratizing the tools of mass communication, intelligence gathering, and precision disruption.

I examine the concept of Netwar—a term popularized by Rand Corporation theorists David Ronfeldt and John Arquilla. Netwar describes conflicts waged by decentralized, network-centric actors who lack a formal hierarchy, clear command structure, or geographical center of gravity:

AttributeConventional WarfareInformation-Age Netwar
Organizational StructureStrict military hierarchyDecentralized, flat network cells
Primary Center of GravityCapital cities, industrial hubs, formal militariesShared ideological narrative, digital nodes
Operational SpeedLinear, dependent on supply chainsRapid, swarm-based, digitally synchronized
Resource RequirementsImmense industrial capital and state revenueLow-cost, commercial-off-the-shelf technology

The Democratization of Force and Non-State Multipliers

I explore the strategic implications of this technological inversion, noting that the Revolution in Military Affairs (RMA) inadvertently handed asymmetric adversaries devastating force-multipliers. A non-state group no longer needs an air force or an industrial base to project power across borders.

Through cyber operations, open-source intelligence collection, and low-cost digital orchestration, a tiny cell can disrupt critical infrastructure, manipulate international media cycles, and compromise the information infrastructure of a heavily armed nation-state. This digitization of conflict strips traditional powers of their conventional advantages. In the digital arena, mass and heavy armor are easily bypassed by agility, anonymity, and distributed networks.

Case Studies of Early Asymmetric Digital Actors

To ground these information-age theories, I provide detailed historical case studies:

  • The Zapatista Uprising (1994): I highlight the EZLN as one of the earliest pioneers of modern netwar. Recognizing they could not defeat the conventional Mexican military in a direct engagement, the Zapatistas utilized early internet networks, listservs, and international solidarity groups to wage a highly effective informational campaign. They successfully constrained the Mexican government’s military response through global public pressure.
  • The Evolutionary Trajectory of Al Qaeda: I next document how Al Qaeda transitioned from a localized, sanctuary-dependent organization in Afghanistan into a highly adaptive, globally distributed digital franchise. By using web forums and media manipulation, they decoupled their operations from physical geography, allowing their ideology to survive and replicate even after losing their primary territorial safe havens.

The Global War on Terror (GWOT) (Part 3)

The Strategic Shock of September 11 and Policy Misalignments

I position the September 11 attacks as the definitive, tragic confirmation of my thesis on global entropy and asymmetric threat vectors. The destruction of the World Trade Center demonstrated how a non-state actor, using minimal financial resources and commercial infrastructure, could inflict a catastrophic strategic shock on the world’s sole remaining superpower.

However, I critiques the initial Western response. I argue that the United States and its allies suffered from deep-seated institutional inertia, attempting to view and fight the early Global War on Terror through a conventional, state-centric lens. This led to a profound strategic misalignment: attempting to use heavy, industrial-era military machines to capture fluid, phantom networks.

The Doctrine of Counterinsurgency (COIN) and Operational Adaptation

As conventional interventions in Iraq and Afghanistan devolved into complex, protracted multi-sided insurgencies, the Western military apparatus was forced to undergo a radical intellectual evolution. I chart this transformation by focusing heavily on the revival and rewriting of Counterinsurgency (COIN) doctrine, spearheaded by figures like General David Petraeus and reflected in the release of Field Manual (FM) 3-24.

This pivot required moving away from conventional “kinetic” operations (killing or capturing enemies) toward population-centric warfare. I detail how the military had to transform its soldiers into nation-builders, diplomats, and cultural anthropologists. Success was no longer measured by terrain seized, but by the degree of security, economic viability, and political legitimacy provided to the local population.

The Evolution of Special Operations Forces (SOF)

Alongside population-centric COIN, I explores the massive expansion and structural elevation of Special Operations Forces (SOF) within the global security framework. I specifically highlight the theoretical and operational insights of strategists like Admiral Stanley McRaven.

McRaven’s theories on relative superiority—achieved by a small, highly integrated force using element of surprise, speed, and precision purpose—became the bedrock of modern counterterrorism. I describe how SOF units adapted to combat network-centric enemies by building their own highly integrated, inter-agency networks. This organizational evolution allowed them to shrink the time between intelligence acquisition and operational execution, creating a highly lethal tool designed to match the agility of asymmetric adversaries.

The Art of War in an Asymmetric World (Part 4)

Synthesizing Classical and Modern Strategic Theory

In this section, I deliver my primary theoretical contribution by placing modern asymmetric realities in direct conversation with classical strategic thought. I bridge the historical gap between timeless principles of conflict and the chaotic features of the 20th and 21st centuries.

I systematically revisit the foundational works of classical strategic thinkers, filtering their enduring insights through the lens of modern decentralized, non-state conflicts:

  • Carl von Clausewitz: I re-evaluate Clausewitz’s core concept of the remarkable trinity—the dynamic balance between the government (reason), the military (chance and strategy), and the people (passion and primal violence). In an asymmetric world where the state is no longer the sole actor, this trinity becomes fragmented. The “government” may be an amorphous tribal council, and the “military” a fluid network of insurgent cells. I argue that Clausewitz’s emphasis on the political nature of war remains true, but warns that when the political entity lacks clear borders, finding its strategic center of gravity becomes exceptionally difficult.
  • Antoine-Henri Jomini: Jomini’s classical focus on geometric lines of operation, concentrated mass, and territorial control is heavily challenged by me. In asymmetric netwar, there are no front lines, defined flanks, or conventional territories to capture. I argue that over-reliance on Jominian geometric principles misleads modern commanders, as the modern battlespace is human, cognitive, and digital rather than physical.
  • Sun Tzu: I suggest that Sun Tzu’s The Art of War is far more applicable to asymmetric environments than Western industrial-era theories. Sun Tzu’s emphasis on deception, winning without fighting through psychological subversion, avoiding strength, and attacking weakness directly mirrors the operational art of the asymmetric warrior.

The Asymmetric Paradox: When Vulnerability Becomes Strength

I introduce a counterintuitive concept known as the asymmetric paradox. In conventional warfare, a lack of heavy armor, secure logistics bases, and centralized command hierarchies is considered a fatal vulnerability. However, in asymmetric conflicts, this absolute lack of infrastructure becomes a profound strategic strength.

Because an asymmetric adversary has no permanent military bases to target, no cities to hold hostage, and no formal economy to sanction, they offer zero conventional targets to a state military. Their extreme material weakness forces them to remain fluid, hidden, and deeply embedded within the civilian population. This structure leaves conventional states with immense firepower but no clear targets against which to deploy it.

The Tribal Foundations of Order (Part 5)

Extending Realist Theory: The Application of the “Fourth Image”

The climax of my strategic analysis occurs with his critique and extension of structural realism. In international relations theory, Kenneth Waltz’s landmark framework established three images (or levels of analysis) to explain the causes of conflict and the nature of world politics:

  1. The First Image: The Individual (human nature, psychology of leaders).
  2. The Second Image: The State (domestic political and economic structures, democracy vs. authoritarianism).
  3. The Third Image: The International System (anarchy, distribution of material power among nation-states).

I assert that this three-tiered framework suffers from a glaring, Eurocentric, state-biased blind spot. In the remote, fractured, and underdeveloped regions where modern asymmetric wars are actually fought, the state is an alien, artificial concept imposed by colonial history.

To correct this deficiency, I introduce the Fourth Image: the tribal level of analysis.

The Fourth Image focuses on sub-state kinship networks, clan allegiances, and traditional, localized structures of authority that have existed long before the Westphalian state system.

The Primacy of Indigenous and Tribal Sovereignty

I assert that when modern states attempt to stabilize an asymmetric battlespace by building centralized state institutions from the top down, they are fighting against the natural grain of local society. Whether in the Hindu Kush of Afghanistan, the valleys of Waziristan, or the vast expanses of the Arctic and the Amazon, local populations look to traditional kinship structures for security, justice, and resource allocation.

Top-down state-building is frequently viewed by local populations as a hostile, foreign occupation. I argue that true, durable social order in these environments cannot be achieved by imposing Western administrative institutions. Instead, it must be carefully negotiated, built, and secured from the bottom up, utilizing the organic legitimacy of traditional tribal authority.

Policy Implications for Grand Strategy and Stabilization

In the concluding chapters, I deliver a pragmatic warning to Western policymakers and military strategists. If international stabilizing efforts continue to ignore the Fourth Image, they are destined to experience perpetual strategic failure.

Grand strategy must adapt to treat tribal and indigenous structures not as obstacles to modernization, but as foundational partners in creating sustainable regional security. I call for a paradigm shift: an evolution toward an organic, decentralized approach to global order that respects, integrates, and cooperates with the tribal realities of the post-Cold War world.

My Realist Journey, Part 3: Strategy After Hiroshima (State of Doom).

Barry Scott Zellen, PhD Liberty , , , , , , , ,

As I updated and expanded my States of Mind series in the 2000s and 2010s, I found the need for a fourth, then a fifth, then a sixth, and finally a seventh volume to complete my treatise. What became volume 5 was an outgrowth of volume 3 (State of Awe), drilling in on the nuclear age which had culminated in volume three my with discussion of order in the age of total war.

While this was indeed, a single era as war industrialized and later nuclearized, achieving absoluteness in its destructiveness, I felt both the need and the desire to explore the nuance of the nuclear age, in part in homage to Waltz whose neorealism, like Brodie’s deterrence theory, sought to tame the terror of the nuclear age (and did for a little while).

Both can be thought of as nuclear realists, but as I wrote, I came to find the literature on neorealism rather light and lacking in substance, while the literature on nuclear strategy was refreshingly complex and nuanced and provided the true foundation of the nuclear order (a dangerously brittle one that collapsed like a house of cards under the unforeseen massing of Gandhian people power in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union.)

My 600-page dissertation, Bernard Brodie and the Bomb: At the Birth of the Bipolar World (published in book form in 2011 by Continuum (now Bloomsbury) as the much shortened (by 300 pages!) State of Doom: Bernard Brodie, the Bomb, and the Birth of the Bipolar World), stands as a definitive professional biography and philosophical investigation of one of the 20th century’s most vital strategic minds. It explores how Bernard Brodie (1910–1978) earned his reputation as “America’s Clausewitz” or the “Clausewitz of the Nuclear Age.” 

By tracing Brodie’s intellectual journey from his pre-World War II writings on naval engineering to his foundational texts on atomic deterrence and his late-career work translating Carl von Clausewitz’s classic On War, it reveals the existential dilemma of the modern era: How can a state utilize military force for political objectives when the weapons at its disposal threaten total planetary destruction? Brodie answered these questions, which were left unanswered, uncomfortably so, by Waltz’s neorealism (which left all the heavy lifting to the imagined “system,” as if a cult or new religion structured upon God’s grace and infinite wisdom.)

Introduction: The Strategic Crucible of the Bipolar World

I frame his exploration around the transition from a multipolar global system to the rigid, highly tense bipolar structure of the Cold War. In this landscape, the United States and the Soviet Union faced an unprecedented security environment defined by the “balance of terror.” At the center of this transformation was Bernard Brodie. As one of the first civilian defense intellectuals to bridge the gap between academia and military policy—most notably through his long tenure at the RAND Corporation—Brodie fundamentally redefined the purpose of military force.

My core thesis is that Brodie’s intellectual life was a lifelong project to reconcile classic military theory with technological shifts. When the splitting of the atom yielded the absolute weapon, traditional concepts of victory, total mobilization, and kinetic warfare were shattered. Throughout his career, Brodie fought to bring politics back into command of military strategy, preventing the machine of war from triggering a global apocalypse.

Before the Bomb: Sea Power and Technological Determinism

Before becoming the premier architect of nuclear strategy, Brodie was a scholar of naval history and sea power.  I emphasize that understanding Brodie’s early work is essential, as it established his analytical framework for evaluating how technological paradigm shifts alter strategic realities.

Sea Power in the Machine Age (1941)

Brodie’s first major academic contribution analyzed the profound transition of naval warfare during the industrial revolution. He tracked four great technological revolutions that fundamentally altered naval architecture and strategy:

  1. The transition from sail to steam propulsion.
  2. The replacement of wooden hulls with iron and steel armor plating.
  3. The evolution from solid shot to explosive shells and rifled ordnance.
  4. The introduction of submarine warfare and the torpedo.

Brodie observed that military establishments are historically slow to grasp the true strategic implications of new inventions. Tacticians often attempt to force revolutionary technologies into outdated operational doctrines. I highlight this as Brodie’s first encounter with technological determinism—the idea that technology drives changes in human history and warfare, requiring an equal revolution in strategic thought to prevent catastrophe.

A Layman’s Guide to Naval Strategy (1942)

Published right after the attack on Pearl Harbor, this book established Brodie as a clear-eyed strategic communicator. It arrived at a moment when many critics believed the airplane had rendered the surface fleet obsolete.

Brodie took a nuanced, balanced view. He argued that while air power changed the tactics of naval engagement, it did not change the fundamental strategic purpose of sea power: the control of maritime lines of communication. This early insight previewed his nuclear-era philosophy—technological leaps change the means and costs of warfare, but they do not automatically erase basic geopolitical realities.

The Absolute Weapon: The Invention of Nuclear Deterrence

The atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August 1945 completely upended Brodie’s strategic worldview. Within months of these events, Brodie edited and co-authored a foundational text, The Absolute Weapon: Atomic Power and World Order (1946). It was in this work that modern nuclear deterrence theory was born.

The Inversion of Military Utility

I analyze this iconic quote to illustrate how profoundly Brodie broke from traditional military tradition. For centuries, military strategy focused on securing victory through the destruction of the enemy’s armed forces.

Brodie recognized that the atomic bomb rendered total war obsolete as an instrument of statecraft. Because an atomic exchange could destroy entire civilizations in a matter of hours, a war fought with such weapons could yield no rational political benefit. Therefore, the military’s primary job shifted from war-fighting to war-averting.

The Pillars of Early Deterrence Theory

In The Absolute Weapon, Brodie laid out the core principles that would govern U.S. and Soviet interactions for the next four decades:

  • The Futility of Defense: Brodie argued that there was no foreseeable, reliable defense against an atomic attack. Even if a defensive system intercepted 90% of incoming bombers, the remaining 10% would still deliver unacceptable, civilizational ruin.
  • The Primacy of Retaliation: Since defense was impossible, security could only be achieved through the guaranteed threat of overwhelming retaliation. A potential aggressor must understand that attacking would trigger their own destruction.
  • The Irrelevance of Superiority: Once a state possesses enough nuclear weapons to destroy its opponent’s society, acquiring thousands more offers little strategic advantage. Nuclear utility hits a point of saturation.

Preserving Order in the Age of Apocalyptic War

As the 1940s turned into the 1950s, the strategic landscape grew vastly more complex and dangerous. I detail how Brodie’s early, clean models of deterrence were severely tested by fast-moving historical developments.

The Loss of the American Monopoly (1949)

When the Soviet Union detonated its first atomic bomb in August 1949, the United States lost its nuclear monopoly much faster than Washington political elites had predicted. This shift created a symmetric balance of terror, giving rise to the truly bipolar world.

Brodie had to adapt his theories to a world where both sides could instantly retaliate. This eliminated any lingering illusions that the atomic bomb could be used as an offensive tool of diplomatic coercion without risking domestic annihilation.

The Thermonuclear Revolution

The strategic equation changed again with the development of the Hydrogen Bomb (the thermonuclear weapon), first tested by the United States in 1952 and the Soviet Union in 1953.

While the atomic bomb measured its yield in kilotons (thousands of tons of TNT equivalent), the thermonuclear bomb measured its yield in megatons (millions of tons of TNT). Fission bombs were city-killers; fusion bombs were region-killers, capable of poisoning massive geographic areas with lethal radioactive fallout.

I point out that while some defense intellectuals, like those in the Air Force, viewed the H-bomb as just a larger explosive tool for strategic air power, Brodie saw it as a qualitative leap into absolute absurdity. The H-bomb removed any remaining doubt about his 1946 thesis: total war with thermonuclear weapons was absolute suicide.

Rethinking the Unthinkable: Escalation and Limited War

With total war off the table as a rational choice, Brodie turned his focus to preventing brushfire conflicts from escalating into all-out thermonuclear exchanges. My analysis of this period highlights Brodie’s tenure at the RAND Corporation, where he interacted and frequently sparred with other giants of nuclear strategy, such as Herman Kahn, Albert Wohlstetter, and Henry Kissinger.

The Problem of Massive Retaliation

During the Eisenhower administration, U.S. defense policy relied heavily on the doctrine of Massive Retaliation. This policy declared that the U.S. would respond to any communist aggression globally—even local, conventional incursions—using overwhelming nuclear forces at times and places of its own choosing.

Brodie emerged as a sharp critic of Massive Retaliation. He argued that the threat lacked credibility in an era of nuclear parity. If the Soviet Union launched a localized conventional attack in Europe or Asia, would an American president truly risk the destruction of New York and Washington to defend a distant border?

Brodie asserted that a non-credible threat fails to deter. If the enemy exposes the bluff, the U.S. would face a terrible choice: launch a suicidal nuclear war or suffer an embarrassing geopolitical retreat.

The Architecture of Limited War

To solve this credibility gap, Brodie helped develop the theory of Limited War, which he detailed in his 1959 masterpiece, Strategy in the Missile Age.

Brodie argued that to make deterrence function at lower levels of conflict, the United States had to develop the capability and political will to fight limited wars using restricted means and targeting limited objectives.

  • Limitation of Means: Intentionally holding back maximum military power—such as avoiding the use of tactical nuclear weapons—to signaling a desire to avoid total war.
  • Limitation of Objectives: Fighting not for the unconditional surrender of the enemy or the total overthrow of their regime, but for specific geopolitical corrections (e.g., restoring a pre-war border).

I highlight the deep irony Brodie wrestled with: to prevent an absolute war, a superpower must become proficient at fighting restrained, sometimes frustratingly inconclusive limited wars.

A Clausewitz for America: Reuniting War and Politics

The final chapters of my book dive into the philosophical culmination of Brodie’s career: his deep engagement with the writings of Prussian military theorist Carl von Clausewitz:

The Clausewitzian Renaissance

In the late 1960s and 1970s, disillusioned by the strategic failures of the Vietnam War, Brodie dedicated himself to a deep reassessment of classical strategic philosophy. He collaborated with historian Peter Paret to produce the landmark 1976 Princeton University Press translation of Clausewitz’s On War, providing an extensive commentary that contextualized the Prussian master for the nuclear age.

Brodie discovered that Clausewitz provided the perfect philosophical toolkit to fight the technocratic, math-heavy trends that had taken over American defense planning. Strategists like Robert McNamara had tried to turn war into a bureaucratic exercise of systems analysis, body counts, and raw cost-benefit equations. Brodie used Clausewitz to remind the world that war is inherently an unpredictable, messy, human phenomenon driven by emotion, chance, and politics.

Reconciling the Famous Dictum

The core of Clausewitzian theory rests on the famous dictum: “War is the continuation of politics by other means.” This means that military violence must always serve as a tool for a specific political objective, and the political goal must entirely dictate the scale of military effort.

I carefully map out how Brodie solved the paradox of applying this 19th-century rule to the thermonuclear era:

  • The Separation Point: In an all-out nuclear war, the sheer scale of destruction breaks the connection between violence and statecraft. Because no political goal can justify the total annihilation of one’s own society, total thermonuclear war cannot be a continuation of politics. It is simply madness.
  • The Solution: Therefore, the only way to keep war Clausewitzian in the modern era is through nuclear deterrence and strict limitation. Deterrence uses the threat of force to achieve the political objective of stability and peace. When kinetic conflict does break out, it must be kept strictly limited so that the costs of fighting never outgrow the political value of the goal.

By aligning deterrence with Clausewitz, Brodie elevated it from a temporary military fix to a permanent, morally grounded framework for preserving global order.

The Lingering Legacy of the (Brief) Bipolar Peace

In my analysis, it becomes clear that Bernard Brodie’s contributions were central to preventing the Cold War from turning hot. The stable bipolar order was not an accidental byproduct of technology; it was a constructed intellectual architecture designed by thinkers who walked the world back from the brink of doom.

Brodie’s evolution reflects the journey of an era:

  • Technology and War: He began by studying how technology changes the machinery of war (Sea Power in the Machine Age, and Guide to Naval Strategy).
  • The Bomb and Obsolescence of Total War: He recognized when technology had made total war obsolete (The Absolute Weapon).
  • Escalation: He built the operational guardrails of escalation management (Strategy in the Missile Age and Escalation and the Nuclear Option).
  • He grounded the entire system in the timeless truth that military power must always serve political ends (“Guide to Reading On War“ and War and Politics).

I conclude that while the modern international system has continued its shift away from the bipolarity of the Cold War into a complex, multipolar landscape featuring asymmetric threats and nuclear proliferation, Brodie’s insights remain essential. The challenge of the 21st century mirrors that of 1946: ensuring that human political wisdom stays in control of our terrifying capacity for technological destruction.

My Realist Journey, Part 2: Our Enduring Realist Tradition; 2500+ Years of Constructive Realism.

Barry Scott Zellen, PhD Liberty , , , , , ,

In my four-volume The Realist Tradition in International Relations: The Foundations of Western Order, I unpack 2,500+ years of strategic history. To me, “constructive realism” is not a tragic acceptance of endless war, but a tool of heroic idealism—a systematic, philosophical effort by key thinkers across millennia to use power, strategy, and statecraft to actively craft order out of chaos.

My framework is fundamentally the conceptualization, explication and defense of Constructive Realism. By focusing on these states of mind, I attempt to revive the first Waltzian image (the psychological, human, and sub-state level of analysis). I argue that international order is not just an accident of systemic architecture, but a conscious, evolving philosophical product constructed by human actors responding to the changing nature of violence. I structure my exploration chronologically through four distinct eras, using an historic roster of foundational thinkers, military leaders, and strategists to illustrate this concept.

Volume 1: The Classical Foundations (State of Hope)

In the ancient world, where systemic chaos reigned supreme, thinkers laid down the cognitive and linguistic tools needed to conceptualize international order.

  • Thucydides: The ancient Greek historian who chronicled the Peloponnesian War. I  treat him not as a pessimist who famously declared that “the strong do what they can,” but as a constructive pioneer who first mapped out the objective mechanics of the security dilemma, allowing future societies to consciously design balances of power.
  • Socrates & Plato: I highlight the philosophical pivot toward defining justice, structural stability, and the idea of the “Philosopher King.” Plato  epitomizes the constructive realist effort to intellectualize governance, arguing that true political order requires aligning supreme power with supreme wisdom.
  • Aristotle: The father of empirical political science. I also view Aristotle as a pioneering constructive realist who analyzed the anatomy of various state constitutions to determine how practical, balanced, and stable governance could survive internal and external shocks.

Volume 2: The Rise of the Modern State (State of Fear)

Confronting the brutal collapses of regional orders, early-modern theorists sought to build an unshakeable sovereign foundation to protect humanity from its own destructive nature.

  • Niccolò Machiavelli: The Florentine diplomat famous for The Prince. I look past the caricature of Machiavellian ruthlessness to reframe him as a visionary of sovereign creation. Machiavelli’s dream was the journey from a fractured prince’s rule to a stable, enduring republic capable of defending its people through civic virtue and martial readiness.
  • Thomas Hobbes: Dubbed by me as the “Ultimate Constructive Realist.” Hobbes famously described life in the anarchic state of nature as “nasty, brutish, and short” (somewhat like life on the “Island” during the final season of Lost). I note that Hobbes’ response was a masterpiece of constructive statecraft: inventing the Leviathan (the modern state), which trades total individual freedom for collective security under a centralized authority.
  • Frederick the Great: The Prussian king who embodied the transition from theory to practice. I chronicle Frederick’s journey from writing his idealistic critique of Machiavelli (Anti-Machiavel) to ruling as a pragmatic “Philosopher King” who used a highly disciplined military apparatus to stabilize Central European geopolitics.
  • Napoleon Bonaparte: The ultimate catalyst of total war. I view Napoleon’s legacy as the structural shockwave that forced the European continent to graduate from limited Westphalian warfare into industrialized, nationalized conflict, testing the limits of state-built order. Theorists of modern war, Carl.von Clausewitz and Antoine-Henri Jomini serve as the intellectual bridge at the end of Volume 2, dueling over how to impose order onto the chaotic explosion of the Napoleonic Wars.
  • Antoine-Henri Jomini: The Swiss officer and military theorist who sought to reduce the chaotic genius of Napoleon into a reliable, scientific manual. I frame Jomini as an early champion of a highly structured, geometric approach to strategy. To Jomini, war could be mastered through immutable principles—lines of operation, concentration of force, and geometric symmetry. He modernizes constructive realism by codifying these precise rules, so that states could make warfare a predictable, manageable instrument of national policy.
  • Carl von Clausewitz: The Prussian general and philosopher of war whose masterwork, On War, serves as the ultimate counterweight to Jomini. Rather than trying to iron out chaos with geometry, Clausewitz embraced it. He introduced concepts like “friction” (the unexpected things that go wrong in war) and the “fog of war.” I position Clausewitz as a cornerstone of modern constructive realism because he fundamentally reconnects violence back to human order, famously declaring that “war is the continuation of politics by other means.” By subordinating raw military destruction to rational political objectives, Clausewitz provided the conceptual guardrails to prevent war from consuming civilization in the age of total war.

Volume 3: The Nuclear Era and Neorealism (State of Awe)

The advent of the atomic bomb forced 20th-century strategic minds to completely redefine the relationship between state survival and total destruction.

  • Bernard Brodie: Known as “America’s Clausewitz,” Brodie was one of the first to grasp the reality of the nuclear age. I  examine how Brodie brilliantly adapted classical military theory to the absolute weapon, asserting that the primary purpose of the military had fundamentally changed: it was no longer to win wars, but to avert them through deterrence. (My chapter on Brodie in State of Awe later evolved into a separate volume entirely in my States of Mind treatise, becoming State of Doom.)
  • Herman Kahn: The legendary (and provocative) nuclear strategist who wrote On Thermonuclear War. I note Kahn took a “Jominian” (highly calculated, geometric, and systematic) approach to strategic thinking. By boldly “thinking about the unthinkable,” Kahn constructively mapped out scenarios to ensure that even if deterrence failed, escalation could be controlled and civilization could survive (albeit with much denial on the lingering consequences of nuclear fallout and radiation).
  • Kenneth Waltz: The father of structural realism (neorealism), a critique of which began my own realist journey as I sought to reinvigorate the First Image (the individual), and de-emphasize the Third (system level). I focus on Waltz and his peers as the “wizards of automation.” Waltz shifted the lens away from human psychology to system architecture, illustrating how the bipolar structure of the Cold War created an equilibrium that mechanically preserved global stability (until it didn’t!)

Volume 4: The Age of Peoples’ War & Insurgency (State of Siege)

In the contemporary era, the traditional state’s monopoly on violence is challenged by asymmetric, decentralized, and non-Western movements. I highlight that these architects of upheaval are often visionaries constructing alternative political models and sovereign structures.

  • Sun Tzu: The ancient Chinese strategist whose philosophy anchors modern asymmetric conflict. I utilize Sun Tzu to show how strategic order can be achieved by prioritizing deception, subversion, and psychological manipulation over costly, direct state-on-state clashes.
  • Mao Zedong: The architect of modern insurgent warfare. I analyze Mao’s theory of “People’s War,” framing him as a constructive theorist who successfully weaponized marginalized, agrarian populations to overthrow an established political order and forge an alternative state model.
  • Mahatma Gandhi: Pioneering theorist of “People Power.” I explain how Gandhi’s nonviolent resistance (and Gene Sharp’s structural/theoretical interpretation of Gandhi) framework for civilian-based defense are highly strategic, calculated exercises of power designed to dismantle oppressive regimes without the traditional tools of kinetic war.
  • Osama bin Laden: The infamous mastermind behind the 9/11 attacks. I analyze bin Laden through a dark realist lens—not as a nefarious, chaos-inducing terrorist, but as a sub-state strategic actor attempting to challenge the global Westphalian model and build an alternative transnational, faith-based political order through militant jihadism.

My Realist Journey: Looking Back Upon 2,500 Years of Realist Theory as America Turns 250

Barry Scott Zellen, PhD Liberty , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Part 1: An American State of Mind

It’s amazing how fast 250 years can go by!

Celebrating America’s 250th anniversary since its momentous Declaration of Independence certainly makes a quarter millennium feel like the blink of an eye. Especially after the triumph of people power brought President Trump back into office in a sweeping indictment of the deep state and its subversion of American values and constitutional principles.

Ultimately, the American experience has been an experiment in achieving a realist vision of the world, and crafting a modern republic built upon the same balanced “trinity of power” (a liberating alignment of the people, the state and the armed forces) that has empowered the Western order since the days of Socrates, Plato and Xenophon.

But to fully grok the universal significance of the American experiment, we must look back not just 250 years, but much farther — to the start of the Western experiment 2,500 years ago!

And it just so happens that I have penned just such a retrospective analysis, originally (before the Cold War ended) called Visions of Order, a three-volume work (Volume 1: State of Hope; Volume 2: State of Fear; and Volume 3: State of Awe); and later, States of Mind, an expanded four-volume work with the added volume, State of Siege, which soon again expanded to include a fifth, sixth and seventh volume, State of Chaos, State of Doom and State of Recovery. 

My original three-volume treatise (Visions of Order) concluded, in State of Awe, with the bipolar Cold War peace, and was penned in the mid-to-late 1980s, coming to completion just as Cold War ended, collapsing the seemingly millennial era of bipolarity (like all such millennial dreams of everlasting order), and with the swiftness of that collapse, unmasking neorealism and most other Cold War IR theories (with notable exceptions like Regime Theory) as brittle ideological dogmas masquerading as theories.

Visions of Order was going to be my dissertation, a rebuttal of Ken Waltz’s neorealism written under Waltz’s apoplectic supervision (he hated it, but at the same time, loved it, but mostly hated it!) His other students were unwilling to stand up to him, and he loved a good debate (as Scott Sagan came to appreciate with their post- Cold War debate on nuclear proliferation). But when the Cold War ended, imploding the now obsolete field of Soviet and East European Studies, and unmasking a whole generation of IR theorists as delusional navel-gazers and Waltzian butt-kissers, I proposed a new subfield in Circumpolar Studies to replace the now-obsolete field of Soviet and East European Studies (itself a fiction of Russian imperialist fantasy), but was laughed at by the pompous defenders of obsolete subfields.

Rather than kick a dead horse, I hopped on my 250cc Honda Rebel motorbike and road up the Alaska Highway to Whitehorse, and from their up the Klondike Highway to Dawson, and from there up the Dempster Highway to Inuvik on the Mackenzie River Delta near the Beaufort Sea Coast, where over the next decade I penned another three-volume treatise on the foundations of international relations, based upon my observations and experiences in the Western Arctic (and which is discussed in the companion to this retrospective theoretical memoir, “My Arctic Journey.”)

Two decades later, as the dust and debris of 9/11 was settling, I pulled out my handwritten draft of my completed, three-volume Visions of Order on spiral bound notebooks, and hired a wonderful typist on Craigslist to digitize the manuscript for me for the Internet era, with the idea of adding new volumes to bring what I was now calling States of Mind up to date (as both tribute to, and defiant mockery of, the nonsensical, and overly ideological, Constructivist school that has colonized the hive mind of academia after neorealism became obsolete with the 1989 fall of the Berlin Wall to people power.)

As my updated expanded treatise approached completion, I decided it was time to publish it. Waltz was still alive, and still beating the dead horse of neorealism, even arguing in The New York Times that an Iranian bomb would be good for world peace. Though too late to become a dissertation under his supervision, he did enthusiastically agree to serve as an external reader, but unfortunately passed away before the public defense, owing to an overly eager junior faculty member insisting on yet another revision to bring the work current with the literature, since I wrote the first draft just before the end of the Cold War, resulting in a year delay that we simply did not have as Waltz’s precarious health deteriorated.

With Waltz no longer with us, I refocused my attention on State of Awe, in tribute to Waltz, and wrote the expanded State of Doom which further evolved into a strategic biography of Bernard Brodie, a contemporary of Waltz’s who did for deterrence and strategic theory what Waltz did for IR theory: wedded it to the existential nuclear challenge of the post-Hiroshima world.

States of Mind further evolved into what ultimately became a seven-volume treatise and I ended up dividing the work in two to ensure the entire work could be published. Praeger Security International agreed to publish the original Visions of Order with the addition of the post-9/11 State of Siege, while Continuum Books agreed to publish State of Doom, State of Chaos, and State of Recovery.

Thus, in 2011, my four-volume, twenty-five century chronicle of realism across the ages (The Realist Tradition in International Relations: The Foundations of Western Order) came to press—the first part of my seven-volume States of Mind project. In it, I present a sweeping and provocative (if I do say so myself!) reinterpretation of realist theory.

Challenging the systems-centric neorealist tradition of structural realism as articulated by Waltz—one of the two most stubborn mentors I’ve ever had, the other being Gene Sharp, another realist thinker of Waltz’s generation who was as unyielding on strategic nonviolence as Waltz was on systemic structure—I frame the evolution of realist thought through the eyes of two-and-a-half millennia of individual realist thinkers and their respective quests to tame the chaos of their times, from the era of city-states and classical empires to global nuclear superpowers, yielding an evolving but strikingly consistent philosophical and theoretical tradition.

I conclude that the foundations of world order are built upon these evolving “states of mind” that correspond to distinct historical eras and their respective technologies, strategies and paradigms of warfare. I organized this framework into four distinct “states of mind,” each examined in its own volume, capturing how political leaders, philosophers, and strategists responded to, and yearned to transcend, the chaos of their times.

Volume 1: State of Hope: Order in the Age of Classical War

  • The Era: Classical Antiquity (tracing back to Thucydides and ancient Greece).
  • The Concept: This state of mind emerges from a baseline of supreme geopolitical chaos. It is a “state of hope” because it represents humanity’s earliest philosophical efforts to conceptualize, predict, and ultimately tame international anarchy. Rather than accepting perpetual vulnerability, classical realism sought the intellectual foundations necessary to construct a predictable, sustainable balance of power out of raw conflict.

Volume 2: State of Fear: Order in the Age of Limited War

  • The Era: The early-modern period through the Enlightenment (and the rise of the Westphalian states system).
  • The Concept: Driven by a collective psychological dread of endless religious and civil bloodbaths (such as the Thirty Years’ War), this state of mind prioritized survival and stability above all else. This collective “fear” directly catalyzed the birth of the modern sovereign nation-state. By monopolizing violence and establishing strict borders, states constrained the scope of conflict, transitioning the world into an era of structured, “limited” warfare governed by clear diplomatic rules.

Volume 3: State of Awe: Order in the Age of Total War

  • The Era: The 20th century through the Cold War (both World Wars and the nuclear age).
  • The Concept: The rise of absolute industrialized warfare and the advent of the atomic bomb shifted humanity into a state of psychological “awe”—a paralyzing realization of our capacity for total self-destruction. Realist strategy during this period evolved to manage unprecedented systemic danger. It gave rise to the philosophy of nuclear deterrence and strategic stability, where order was paradoxically maintained through the terrifying equilibrium of Mutually Assured Destruction (MAD).

Volume 4: State of Siege: Order in the Age of Insurgency

  • The Era: The post-Cold War and post-9/11 contemporary world.
  • The Concept: This modern state of mind reflects the fragmentation of the traditional nation-state’s monopoly on security. As globalized networks, tribal factions, and asymmetric actors rose up against Western modernization, states found themselves in a perpetual “state of siege” from within and below. This era shifts the realist focus away from massive, state-on-state clashes toward navigating non-state insurgencies, counter-terrorism, and localized border friction.

The Return of the State of Doom: Drone Strikes, Desperation, and Putin’s Nuclear Temptation

Barry Scott Zellen, PhD Liberty , , , , , , , , ,

How Ukraine’s Successfully Waged War of Asymmetric Attrition Could Trigger Russia’s Nuclear Escalation, and Collapse the Western Order.

The skies over Moscow, once an untouchable symbol of Russia’s impenetrable imperial security, have become the Ukraine War’s latest contested territory.

As Ukrainian drones routinely slip past Russian air defenses to strike at the heart of Vladimir Putin’s capital, the psychological, economic and strategic landscape of the war in Ukraine is undergoing a tectonic shift. It is a stunning display of asymmetrical ingenuity and a testament to Ukraine’s unbroken resolve four years into a brutal war.

But for those of us who study the grim calculus of international relations, realist theory, and nuclear strategy, this tactical triumph casts a profound existential shadow. We are edging precariously close to the terrifying reality that Bernard Brodie—the founding father of modern nuclear strategy—recognized at the dawn of the atomic age. We are re-entering a state of doom.

Fifteen years ago, in my 2011 book, State of Doom: Bernard Brodie, The Bomb, and the Birth of the Bipolar World, I explored how the advent of the absolute weapon fundamentally altered the nature of war and statecraft. Brodie famously observed in 1946 that, until the atomic bomb, the chief purpose of a military establishment was to win wars. “From now on,” he wrote, “its chief purpose must be to avert them.” For 80 years, this logic of deterrence has held firm. Nuclear weapons became the ultimate insurance policy against regime collapse and total state defeat, creating a stable, if terrifying, equilibrium among superpowers.

But what happens when that insurance policy is held by an authoritarian leader who launched a war of choice, only to find himself entangled in a humiliating, multi-year quagmire—and suffering more than one million casualties and counting?

As we navigate 2026, the conflict has evolved into a grinding war of attrition that has systematically bled Russian conventional forces. Now, with drones detonating in Moscow, the illusion of Russian invulnerability has been entirely shattered. The war is no longer a distant “special military operation” broadcast safely on state television; it is rattling the windows of the Kremlin.

From a classical realist perspective, a state’s primary imperative is survival. However, in my research on the tribal foundations of world politics, I have often noted that beneath the veneer of the modern Westphalian state, older, primal loyalties dictate behavior—rooted in an unyielding tribalism. Putin’s Russia has increasingly shed the trappings of a modern institutional state, reverting to an insular, tribal autocracy run by the its security elite (the siloviki). For this ruling clan, the survival of the Russian state and the survival of their regime are inextricably linked.

The drone strikes on Moscow are not measured strictly in military terms; they are profound political humiliations. They signal to the Russian elite and the public that Putin cannot protect his own stronghold. In the brutal logic of power politics, humiliation breeds desperation. And when the tribe’s inner-most sanctum is breached, the leadership’s risk calculus can radically change.

This is precisely where the architecture of nuclear deterrence begins to buckle. Deterrence relies on rationality—on the shared understanding that the costs of crossing the nuclear threshold outweigh any conceivable benefit. But rationality is subjective, bound by the specific pressures and fears of the decision-maker. If Putin believes that a conventional defeat in Ukraine, or the steady erosion of his domestic authority brought about by persistent strikes on the Russian homeland, will lead to his downfall, the unthinkable suddenly becomes thinkable. Using the bomb, of which Putin has so many, becomes a viable strategic option when their continued non-use could cause both military defeat and regime collapse.

The immediate fear has never been that Putin will launch a strategic first strike against Washington or London, triggering the near-certainty and totality of Mutual Assured Destruction (MAD). The far more chilling and realistic peril is the use of a non-strategic, or “tactical,” nuclear weapon within the Ukrainian theater. A low-yield detonation—perhaps over a military concentration, an infrastructure hub, or even as a demonstration over the Black Sea—would serve a dual purpose for a desperate autocrat.

First, it would aim to reverse the fortunes of a failing conventional campaign, dramatically persuading Kyiv to compromise via the same unimaginable explosive shock that did the same for the unyielding Emperor of Japan eighty years earlier.

Second, it would test the ultimate resolve of the West. Putin may gamble that while NATO is willing to supply advanced conventional technology to maintain Ukrainian territorial integrity, it is not willing to risk Western capitals for Kyiv. Putin might calculate that a limited nuclear strike would paralyze the Western alliance with the fear of further annihilation.

Western analysts often comfort themselves with the assumption that a nuclear strike would turn Russia into a global pariah, completely alienating its remaining partners. But they may be dangerously wrong. In a fracturing global order, a successful, unpunished tactical nuclear strike could achieve the exact opposite of isolation: it would send a seismic shockwave through the international system, demonstrating that the West is ultimately a paper tiger when confronted by the East’s absolute resolve.

Rather than repelling Beijing, Tehran, or Pyongyang, such an unapologetic display of power might further unite the autocratic world around a newly dominant center of gravity. It could reinvigorate Russia’s diplomatic leadership among revisionist states, positioning Moscow as the ultimate vanguard against Western hegemony.

This is the hidden trapdoor of the current crisis: the very real temptation that nuclear brinkmanship could pay off, rewriting the rules of global governance in favor of autocracy. Hence the temptation for Putin; hence the danger for us.

We are currently witnessing a volatile collision between the paradigms of modern conflict. Asymmetric, unconventional tactics are now colliding with the rigid, devastating power structures of traditional states. Ukraine has brilliantly exposed the hollow core of Russian conventional might, utilizing decentralized, high-tech drone warfare to outmaneuver a lumbering superpower. Yet, in doing so, it has inadvertently increased the utility of Russia’s unconventional, apocalyptic deterrent.

By bringing the pain of war to Moscow, Ukraine is effectively cornering the bear. And a cornered bear, armed with the world’s largest nuclear arsenal, could become the most dangerous actor in the international system.

Recognizing the danger of Putin’s nuclear temptation is not a call for appeasement; it is a prerequisite for survival. For years, the West has walked a geopolitical tightrope: arming Ukraine sufficiently to defend its sovereignty without provoking a Russian nuclear response. The drone strikes on Moscow represent a fraying of that tightrope.

Brodie warned us that the absolute weapon demands an absolute transformation in how we manage conflict. In this renewed state of doom, the ghosts of the Cold War have returned, armed with new anxieties and asymmetric triggers. As waves of drones continue to fly east toward Moscow, the distance between conventional humiliation and nuclear retaliation shrinks by the day.

We must tread ever carefully, for the absolute weapon forgives no miscalculation.

Some Friday Links – Ukraine in Moscow

Michalis Trepas Current Events, Links , , , , , , , , ,

Also, 1-year mark of blogging achieved

We visited Moscow twice, in late 2010 and mid-2011. I remember a clean, buzzing – if a bit intimidating – metropolis, rich in signature sites. I thought to share that where we stayed, Ukraine was all over: Across the street was located the Hotel Ukraina, one of the “Seven Sisters” (skyscrapers of the Stalinist era). Ukrainskyi bulvar, a pedestrian walkway run along our block. It featured a small park with a statue of writer Lesya Ukrainka. Down the green walk was the Kiyevski railway terminal, a badass station (it was in good company, I prefer no 5, Yaroslavsky station) that serviced metro lines and trains to the Ukrainian capital (Kiyv/ Kiev, see relevant link below).

Here be few links on the Ukrainian front, not of the “latest headline” kind. The discourse at least here in Greece is polarized, and geographically we are close enough that the infamous Chernobyl disaster haunted our parents when we were kids.

Understanding the War in Ukraine (A Collection of Unmitigated Pedantry. I picked this blog from Naked Capitalism).

A Drunken Grandfather Goes to War (Economic Principals)

Tocqueville and Ukraine: European Union, Freedom, and Responsibility (Quillette)

Why Is Ukraine’s Capital City Now Called ‘Kyiv,’ Not ‘Kiev’? (Mental Floss)

The Greek word is squarely in Kiev mode.

Thoughts, Hopes And Disappointments in Kyiv: A Street Photographer’s Photos of Ukraine – 2001-2021 (Flashbak)

Sunday Poetry: Junger’s War Observations

Alexander Albrecht Books, Culture, History, Liberty, Philosophy , , , , , , , , ,

Without noticing it, I heavily built my reading schedule this year around of what one might call a “post-liberal reading list”. The idea, that the demise of social institutions might be the inevitable consequence of an ongoing individualization of society struck me as initially convincing. I am currently in search of good examinations on the ultimate effect Liberalism has on the development of social institutions. Hopefully, Steven Horwitz’ “Hayek’s Modern Family” will provide me with some compelling arguments to refute the post-liberal agenda.

Not directly being post-liberal, but pointing towards the importance of “homecoming and belonging”, Sebastian Junger’s book “Tribe” has had a lasting influence on me. I found the following observations of a war refugee voluntary reentering Sarajevo during its siege both fascinating and devastating.

“What catastrophes seem to do – sometimes in the span of a few minutes – is to turn back the clock on ten thousand years of social evolution. […]

“‘I missed being that close to people. I missed being loved in that way’, she told me. ‘In Bosnia – as it is now – we don’t trust each other anymore; we became really bad people. We didn’t learn the lesson of the war, which is how important it is to share everything you have with humans being close to you. The best way to explain it is that the war makes you an animal. We were animals. It’s insane – but that’s the basic human instinct, to help another human being who is sitting or standing or lying close to you.’

I asked Ahmetašević if people had ultimately been happier during the war. 
‘We were the happiest,’ Ahmetašević said. Then she added: “And we laughed more.'”

I wish you all a pleasant Sunday.

Sunday Poetry: Camus about Europe

Alexander Albrecht Books, Culture, History, Liberty, Philosophy , , , , , , ,

Albert Camus is the most influential writers to me (See here why). This passage is from his third “Letter to a German Friend” (1944), depicting his unbroken love for European culture in the dark times of the second world war.

“Sometimes on a street corner, in the brief intervals of the long struggle that involves us all, I happen to think of all those places in Europe I know well. It is a magnificent land moulded by suffering and history. I relive those pilgrimages I once made with all the men of the West: the roses in the cloisters of Florence, the gilded bulbous domes of Krakow, the Hradschin and its dead palaces, the contorted statues of the Charles Bridge over the Vltava, the delicate gardens of Salzburg. All those flowers and stones, those hills and those landscapes where men’s time and the world’s time have mingled old trees and monuments! My memories have fused together such superimposed images to make a single face, which is the face of my true native land. … It never occurred to me that someday we should have to liberate them from you. And even now, at certain moments of rage and despair, I am occasionally sorry that the roses continue to grow in the cloister of San Marco and the pigeons drop clusters from the Cathedral of Salzburg, and the red geraniums grow tirelessly in the little cemeteries of Silesia.”

I wish you all a pleasant Sunday.

“If you work for peace, stop paying for war”

Bill Rein Liberty , ,

The most omnipresent slogan of libertarianism in the digital age is the one that argues, or maybe just declares, taxation is A, theft is B, and A is B. Everyone has a gut feeling about being stolen from or coerced into losing his or her property, and so whether it’s extortion or theft anyone is apt to understand what “taxation is theft” means on a primitive level.

Even if anyone can understand what it means, it seems there’s little agreement about what it encourages — since, “the government’s up to no good again” doesn’t really have a telos behind it and pitching a preferred state of arrangements is useless without appropriate connected action.

I was thinking about this, and ran into a short essay by Gina Lunori that looks to answer the question, with the same frustration.

I heard someone praise a conscientious objector who refused
to fight in Iraq, and I asked him if he was still paying taxes. He told
me that the government hadn’t created a “conscientious objector”
category for taxpayers, so he was sorry to say he wasn’t able to
stop paying. As if you only have a conscience when the
government issues you a permit for one!

I told him I know people who’ve stopped paying their taxes
without waiting for permission, just by lowering their income and
living below the tax threshold. He told me that he wasn’t prepared
to make that kind of sacrifice. If I had a pocket calculator I could
have told you the maximum price of his conscience. If I had a
quality postal scale I probably still couldn’t discern its weight.

Like Walter Mitty these armchair peaceniks burn their draft
cards in their daydreams, meanwhile the people who serve in the
military in their place are equipped, and shipped, and paid for by Walter Mitty’s tax dollar.

The biggest obstacles to change aren’t the few who are
abusing the government, but the many who are submitting to it and
facilitating the abuse.

A government that loved liberty would be trying at every
opportunity to expand and protect that liberty. Our government
tries everything it can to evade the few protections that have
survived since its founding. Look at how shamelessly it has
whisked people off to Cuba — Cuba! — in order to sweep them out
from under the protection of the Constitution.

A person who loves liberty would not shovel coal into a
tyrant’s engine just to earn a higher salary. Why does a person in
the United States who claims to love freedom, and who is
intelligent enough to understand that the government is freedom’s
enemy, still feel that it’s worthy of respect to be a taxpayer, and the
more salary — and therefore the more taxes — the more respect?
If you love liberty, if you hate war, you should at once withdraw
your support from the government. Withdrawing your moral
support isn’t enough — it’s your practical support that the
government feeds on — it doesn’t give a damn what your opinions
are.

This is something you must do because you know the
difference between right and wrong and you know, when you look
the facts straight in the face, that when you willingly give practical
support to the government you participate in its wrongs. But this is
more than a matter of personal integrity.

Imagine the power of this statement. What if every person
who felt that the government had lost their moral support also
withdrew their practical support? What if only one in ten did? It
would be the beginning of the end. It would be that nonviolent
revolution we’re praying for.

Maybe the best tests of intellectual integrity are consistency and hypocrisy. How do the people that swear off voting as aggression feel about funneling taxed income to the government to enable its aggression? How do the people that mantra “taxation is theft” feel about surrendering their goods, each and every year, in a way they would never, ever tolerate from a burglar?

Early childhood memories of a Cambodian refugee camp

Chhay Lin Lim History, Liberty , , , , , , ,

In 1991, sixteen Khmer families from Cambodian refugee camps (mostly from Khao I Dang) received asylum in the Netherlands. This Saturday, November 5, we will celebrate the 25th anniversary. To commemorate our stay in the Netherlands, I would like to share some of my early childhood memories about being born in a Cambodian refugee camp in 1986.

I understand that my story is just one small, but essential part of my family’s overall journey for safety from the civil war (1967-1975), Khmer Rouge (1975-1979) regime, and the subsequent Vietnamese occupation. According to some estimates, 2 million out of 8 million people died during this long period. This figure has been contested many times. I don’t think anyone knows how many people have actually died, but if I look at the family members of my parents’ households: 40% from my mum’s side died and 25% from my dad’s side.

Khao I Dang, the refugee camp where I was born

My parents were forced to work in labour camps in the countryside in Battambang by the Khmer Rouge. They eventually met each other while fleeing from Battambang to the Thai border when the Vietnamese invaded Cambodia. As with most fleeing Cambodians, my parents decided to get together – not out of love, but more out of the need and desire to share their hardships. This was after all, a months-long journey through the heart of the Cambodian jungle in which my father lost his father, the granddad I never came to know. My mother lost her brother and her father. As my mother was separated from her brother early on during the Khmer Rouge regime and never witnessed his death, she had always held hope that one day she would find him again.

My parents’ long journey towards Thailand brought them to the Sa Kaeo camp which was the first organized refugee camp that opened in 1979. Within just 8 days, the refugee population grew to 30,000. The camp eventually closed down half a year later, because of unfavorable conditions. The drainage in the campsite was for example so poor that several refugees, too weak to lift their heads, drowned from a flood as they laid on the floor in tents made of plastic sheets.

One month after the opening of Sa Kaeo, the Khao I Dang camp was opened and many people were repatriated into Khao I Dang. My parents eventually ended up there as well.

Khao I Dang camp

Khao I Dang was a refugee camp on the Thai-Cambodian border where I was born. It was a bamboo village with dirt roads, barbed wire, and armed guards. Within just 5 months, the camp’s population reached 160,000. Population wise, this would make the camp the 11th largest municipality in the Netherlands.

Although the camp gave us more safety, violence and theft ran rampant.

Religion and death

People continued their religious activities and some houses were transformed into places for Buddhist ceremonies. In this picture you see my two brothers, my father, and I wearing our best clothes. We just came back from a visit to a local ‘temple’. The husband of my aunty, who had just been allowed to find refuge in Australia, had recently died in the camp.

My two brothers, me, and my father

Behind me is a grave of him. My father hired a photographer to take this picture so that he could send it to my aunty. I am the one barefooted.

Hospital

My father worked at the hospital. The hospital was a large hall with beds placed next to each other. I remember that I visited the hospital where I was given a doctor’s gloves to play with. I would blow it and enjoy a child’s kick out of it.

Hospital in Khao I Dang

Night raids

I remember that during some nights, rebels with guns would raid people’s houses to steal their belongings. Often, the word about night raids spread faster than the rebels themselves, and so most of the times we were warned before the rebels reached us. I remember very well one incident when we did not flee early enough.

My brothers and I ran after my father, while my mother took my baby sister in her arms to flee in separate directions. My father brought us into a nearby canal to hide there. When the Thai patrolling soldiers within the camp arrived at the scene, shooting between the two groups erupted. When I think back to this moment, I can still clearly feel the fear I had. I wanted to cry, but my father put his hands tightly on my mouth so that I would not make any sound. We then fled to the hospital where my father was working, and stayed there during the night. We were too afraid to go back home, and waited until the next morning.

In another incident, our neighbors were too late to flee and somehow for reasons unknown, a rebel threw a hand grenade inside their little home that killed the whole family.

Kindergarten

Despite the violence and misery, people tried to rebuild their normal lives. I went to kindergarten and remember so well one incident that I played hooky.

I was 4 years old and walking to school by myself, I stopped and decided to return home to my mother’s small shop. This is an incident that I am personally extremely proud of. As long as I can remember, I have always detested school. I hated to sit still and to be told what to do and what not to do. I took this attitude with me to the Netherlands, and still today I am very critical of schooling. My mother, a soft young woman, let me stay with her at the shop. But then my father came by, got angry with me, and spanked me for not going to school. Until this day I still don’t think that I did anything wrong.

Our little shop

Trade went on. Although it was illegal, industrious people were trying to make money by starting small businesses. This shows to me that entrepreneurship is natural to us human beings, and that economics and trade are naturally emerging processes as people are always looking for ways to improve their lot and to fulfill their needs.

Thai merchants would come to the fences, away from the Thai soldiers who were patrolling, in order to sell food to the refugees inside. Such activities occurred during night-time. When Thai soldiers would find out that we were trading with outsiders, they would beat us and take away our belongings. We, refugees, were also not allowed to get outside of the camp or we would risk being shot dead by Thai soldiers.

My mother, my brothers and I at our little shop. I am the one in the blue jersey

During day-time, people inside the camp would expose their new belongings and small shops would emerge. My mother sold small products of convenience. Some of it was smuggled by Thai people into the camps that we, Cambodians, were selling to other Cambodians. Other things like oil and sugar were given to us as part of a food relief program that we used sparingly so that we could sell it further. With the money we earned, we could then buy other goods that we needed more.

Other ways through which we made money was by brewing alcohol made from rice and apples. Although alcohol was illegal, it did not stop my parents from brewing it. Whenever a Thai soldier would come to our house for inspection – I don’t think you can really hide the alcoholic odor that was surrounding our little house when we were brewing alcohol – my parents would bribe him with money so that he would leave us alone.

Continuing story

These are some of my childhood memories of our lives in Khao I Dang. Maybe next time I can tell more about our life in the camp, share some of my older brothers’ memories, our cat that was lost, killed and eaten by someone or my first encounter with inspiring Superman and Spider-Man comic books. Maybe, I will also write about our continuing journey to the Netherlands and the psychological impact my experiences in Khao I Dang had on me. I can tell about the nightmares that haunted me until my teenage years, how I always felt alienated from the people here and the inferiority complex towards Dutch people that I developed as a little child for feeling different. Feeling different made me feel insecure. Every time I met someone, and I think it lasted until my later teenage years, I would always ponder whether the person would kill me if he would be put in similar circumstances as those many killers from the Khmer Rouge period. In other words: as a child, I already wondered excessively about the “banality of evil”. These thoughts were of course extremely unhealthy, especially when you are as young as 4 or 5 years old.

The biggest lesson I have learned from my childhood is that both good and bad experiences are important in our lives. Happiness, in my opinion, is very much overrated and hardship is at least as valuable.

I have not written this so that people pity me. Pity, and in particular self-pity, is an extremely damaging emotion. It multiplies our suffering and reveals an extremely pathological egoism. When I look back at the hardships my family has overcome, I like to remind myself of Haruki Murakami’s saying that “only assholes feel sorry for themselves”.