Freedom and illegitimacy: the Bush Doctrine by MT Nguyen, NYC

George Bush and his administration are known for advancing foreign policy innovations collected under the authoritative sounding phrase 'the Bush doctrine'. This doctrine is in fact a heterogeneous hodgepodge of directives and 'principles' of post 9/11 foreign policy, anchored by the right to preemptive strikes, a deeply troubling, stunning and reckless departure from conventional thinking on international relations. One wonders though, since this anchor is but a means to an end, what the underlying rationale is. In name, the rationale is not far to seek, for in address after address since 9/11 Bush has announced that the ultimate aim of his administration is this: the world-historical advance of freedom or liberty (he uses the concepts interchangeably). Thus, in his 2005 inaugural address, he asserts that "We are led, by events and common sense, to one conclusion: The survival of liberty in our land increasingly depends on the success of liberty in other lands. The best hope for peace in our world is the expansion of freedom in all the world." Throughout this speech and in others (here and here) Bush maintains this theme of bringing liberty to those parts of the world who he deems to not have it but nevertheless have a right to it. I want to avoid altogether the question of sincerity and inquire instead into the stated project on its own terms. So, my two questions are: What does he mean by the spread of freedom? And, Is it a coherent project?

The project's meaning is mostly unclear because of the obscurity of his use of the central terms liberty and freedom. This is so even though the terms are deployed a total of 42 times in the short speech (yes, I counted). Sometimes Bush uses 'freedom' or 'liberty' to mean independence or the general capacity to do as one desires; at other times, he hypostasizes freedom into a world historical force which combats tyranny and the resentment brought on by tyranny. Yet at other times he characterizes it as the political concept of self-government (but then why not use autonomy?). The latter is suggested by his frequent connection (and more often than not, identification) of liberty with democracy and, importantly, it explains why he sometimes formulates his mission in terms of spreading democracy. I return to this last notion at the end. It would be idle and truly mind-numbing to try to locate a family resemblance in his heterogeneous usage of these terms. I will take it however that whatever else he might mean by the concept, he must have in mind at least the following. Freedom as a concept is a property of persons and it basically means the freedom to do and live as one desires. Minimally, since everyone desires to live free from coercion (in all its guises), the basic concept as applied to the political is, crudely, the idea of living a life free from state coercion. This understanding is reinforced by how Bush uses these concepts as the bases for attacks on coercive states.

A quick argument against this is that all states are by their nature coercive, and hence in principle the stated project would run headlong into anarchism. This is too quick for although his rhetoric cannot allow for it, as all Americans know the Bush administration understands and demands that certain restrictions on freedom are necessary for any political life. [We need only remind ourselves of the Patriot Act and the recent debacle on telecom immunity to recognize this.] Given then that political freedom cannot mean living in whatever way anyone desires and given the project to spread it, how are we to understand what Bush aims to spread and what he aims to attack?

There is a benchmark to use here. This is the concept of the illegitimate state, and if we characterize that concept in a certain way we can see a basic connection between it and an intelligible conception of political freedom. Unfortunately for us all, the illegitimate state is not difficult to locate in the actual world. One case in point is Zimbabwe [update: for an excellent account of Zimbabwe's downfall under Mugabe, see Samantha Power's 2003 piece here]. After an election in which citizens dared to vote for the opposition party, Robert Mugabe clamped down and gerrymandered a run-off. Yesterday, not surprisingly, the opposition leader, Morgan Tsvangirai, withdrew his candidacy amidst claims that his supporters were being intimidated and murdered. He said that he would not ask his supporters for a vote which would end their lives. The names of supporters whose life are at risk includes Tsvangirai himself, who is now under the protection of the Dutch embassy.

Being a relatively straightforward case of the illegitimate state, Zimbabwe is instructive. What makes it illegitimate? As Bernard Williams once helpfully put it, an illegitimate state is one in which the solution, the state itself, is worse than the problem, viz., life without an authority to settle disputes. In the case of Zimbabwe the state is but another party to the conflict of interested parties and instead of resolving disputes, adds to them. What's worse, and more problematic, as is obvious to everyone, the illegitimate state is typically the most powerful among the disputants. This makes it worse because being more powerful, it possesses the resources to perpetuate itself. Hence its existence serves to undermine the possibility of a legitimate state.

Prescient in the extreme, Plato recognized the nature of the illegitimate state and put its theory in his mouthpiece for political realism, Thrasymachus. Thrasymachus identified justice with power, defining justice in terms of the sole advantage of the ruling, strongest, party. No doubt he is wrong about that, but the theory is nevertheless helpful for it uncovers the preservatory genius of raw power. This manifests itself, basically, through its capacity to remain hidden: although it is at bottom raw power, it never expresses itself as such. (For all his evident thugishness, Mugabe nevertheless bothered to go through the motions of an election and a runoff.) Thrasymachus declares that the illegitimate state is like the clever craftsman who knows what he can do and what he can't do; and, if he should err on occasion, he knows how to recover from it (Vladimir Putin, Russia's de facto strong man, is perhaps the best exemplar of this). Translated to the conditions of the modern state, this means that the illegitimate state controls the media and hence the primary means by which citizens acquire and disseminate information and opinion, controls the military, and controls the judiciary by which the public pronouncements of justice are made and reinforced.

The illegitimate state so understood has a basic connection to liberty, for the former marks the most extreme curtailment of the latter. Restricted to this context, Bush's mission makes sense (I don't say it would be necessarily justified), for if there exists a good case to support and/or intervene on behalf of the freedom of any body of peoples it is the case of those who are terrorized by their government. However, how are we to evaluate Bush's endorsement of the much more ambitious and suspect extension of the mission to states which are not illegitimate in this sense but rather are non-democracies, non-ideal (from our vantage point) and unjust (again, from our vantage point)? His foray into Iraq (and his consideration of one in Iran) is a case in point.

Answering this question requires a standpoint free from utopian thought (or one might call it, political moralism) and its penchant for believing that politics is just the correct application of moral ideals. Most importantly, we don't want to confuse illegitimacy with injustice, for the reasons to confront the former do not necessarily extend to the latter. The relevant distinction is grounded on the idea that all sane (minimally rational) persons desire to live free from terror and it is the fundamental point of political authority to make that the case. This is a basic psychological fact unburdened by moral theory. Beyond that there are varying degrees of moral value, e.g. freedom of speech, right to economic well-being, autonomy, etc., which can emerge as important depending upon the historical, material, and political circumstances. It is up to political judgment to decide when, where and how these values are to be sustained, supported and protected. If so, it cannot be a coherent ambition to spread freedom per se, for beyond freedom from terror there is no univocal thing that is meant by it. Bush's project is incoherent in the way that a project to bring happiness to all of the world is incoherent. Despite the apparent univocality of these concepts, their application is too multivarious to sustain a unified project.

But beyond these rather fine-grained distinctions, we can certainly acknowledge the wide gulf between promoting freedom from an illegitimate state and Bush's mission, as he sometimes puts it, to deliver democracy (through violence if necessary). We know from history that legitimacy does not require democratic processes, and even if we agree with Bush that we should not "pretend that jailed dissidents prefer their chains, or that women welcome humiliation and servitude or that any human being aspires to live at the mercy of bullies," these are all a far cry from the desire for self-governance. Self-governance requires the kind of self-consciousness, self-reflectiveness and responsibility that represent, we might say, a cultural ideal. To be sure, many societies have no such aspiration even when they are free to do as they desire. Even if they did, however, it can be no part of another country's mission, as it is in Bush's vision, to deliver, no, demand democracy, for this demand has the same air of paradox as forcing someone to be free.