i spent a lot of time on this one. personally, i think it's a crapfest. i ended up with a decent mark. whatever.
The democratic peace theory first advanced by Michael W. Doyle, which concludes democracies do not go to war with one another, has attained the status of a law of international relations in some circles. Given an absence of war between democratic dyads, the theory professes declarations of war are largely founded on ideological grounds, discrediting realist explanations for interstate conflict focussing on the sovereign state’s strategic interest. Nevertheless, it has its share of critics, such as David E. Spiro, who challenge the relevance of the statistics on which it is founded, advocating a renewal of interest in realist international relations theory. Analysis of American involvement in the Chilean election of 1970 and subsequent military coup raises further questions of the theory’s significance. The democratic culture seemingly entrenched in both Chile and the United illustrates the difficulty in justifying the claim liberal norms and institutions breed mutual respect between likeminded states. Furthermore, the aggressive, debilitating nature of covert operations demonstrates restriction of the definition of war to official interstate conflict ignores the reality of the use of force since the Cold War era. In the context of the currently predominant neorealist-neoliberal consensus, the chief policy consequence of the democratic peace theory is the ideological mandate it extends to liberal states who wish to intervene militarily in the affairs of illiberal regimes in order to expand their geopolitical and economic influence. This is evident in the liberal language employed to articulate protection of American strategic interests in the National Security Strategy of the United States of America.
In “Kant, Liberal Legacies, and Foreign Affairs,” Michael W. Doyle describes the remarkably pacific relations engendered among liberal democratic states, asserting the constraints on power provided by democratic institutions and shared liberal norms are the underlying causes of the democratic peace. Doyle’s work proceeds from Enlightenment philosopher Immanuel Kant’s perpetual peace thesis, which speaks of a pacific union between like-minded republican states, motivated by a liberal cosmopolitan law that ensures peace is in their best interest. Both Doyle and Kant imply the peaceful consequences of liberal democratic institutions and norms only impact treatment of other liberal states as mistrust and disdain for undemocratic states characterize and justify aggressive behaviour towards other types of regimes.
The empirical basis for Doyle’s declaration of a democratic peace is a data set of the number of wars and liberal democracies from the end of the Napoleonic wars in 1816 to 1980, the most recent year for which data could be computed. War is defined as a conflict between sovereign states with one thousand or more battle casualties, excluding civil wars and covert operations from his assessment of a separate liberal peace. To be considered as a liberal democracy, states must meet Doyle’s four institutional requirements: entrenchment of fundamental freedoms and juridical equality for all citizens, exercise of authority by representative legislatures, the right to private property, and economic policy conducive to the free market. Most republics and constitutional monarchies fall under this rubric, which does not exclude the economic intervention characteristic of states practicing welfare liberalism. Furthermore, Doyle specifies these states must be “constitutionally secure,” excluding states in periods of democratic transition. According to Doyle’s definitions of war and democracy, no two liberal states have ever gone to war against one another. Given these empirical findings, particular attributes of liberal democracies account for this separate peace.
Doyle’s seminal positivist research asserts realist explanations, such as game theory, the security dilemma, and balance of power politics, provide “little guidance in explaining the pacification of the liberal world,” as their preoccupation with strategic interests fails to consider the effect of democracy on relations among liberal states. An appraisal of democratic social determinants reveals why liberal states are unique in their reluctance to go to war with one another while other regime types, such as communist and feudal, demonstrate a proclivity to resolve their differences militarily. The “mutual respect” unique among liberal states, is rooted in “the basic postulate of liberal theory … that states have the right to be free from foreign intervention.” Liberal states do not go to war with one another because it is in accordance with liberal principles to reserve the use of force for “popular, liberal wars” which defend democratic ideals. This notion is derived from Kant’s “associal sociability,” the value that propagates the evolutionary peace as liberal states promote “universal hospitality” through mutual prosperity, and respect for one another’s sovereignty. The institutional heritage of liberal states provides structural obstacles to mobilization, as interest groups in representative democracies hamper the “incisiveness of decision” that enables leaders and legislators in illiberal regimes to swiftly declare war. Publicity requires legislators to work under the scrutiny of voters, media outlets, and other liberal states; consequently, accommodation is made in inter-liberal disputes given the understanding both parties operate under significant institutional constraints. Moreover, the “material incentive” of unfettered trade afforded by the cosmopolitan law described by Kant motivates peace in the interest of sustaining commercial ties as states are reluctant to allow political differences to become the seed of unprofitable market rivalries.
The second component of the liberal legacy of “constitutional restraint, shared commercial interests, and international respect for individual rights” is the exacerbation of conflict between liberal and illiberal states. Doyle argues war between liberal states and other regimes is not waged in relation to a strict realist conception of strategic interest, but governed ideologically by a rejection of illiberal government. Liberal interventionism throughout the Cold War is marked by hostility with strong illiberal nations, such as China and the U.S.S.R., and quagmires resulting in “frustrated withdrawal” in interventions aimed at containing and converting less powerful communist nations. This liberal proclivity towards intervention has considerable political ramifications on the domestic front, as aggressive foreign policy potentially augments the influence of non-liberal elements such as the military leadership of the United States. In spite of the bureaucracy’s illiberal tendencies, Doyle lists American-sponsored successes that empowered a “potential liberal majority” in nations such Allende’s Chile, South Korea, and the Dominican Republic. As a result, the democratizing effect of liberal foreign policy must not be rejected in favour of a purely strategic emphasis. Whether these examples were indeed motivated by the tenets of liberalism continues to be hotly debated, and will be further addressed in the Chilean case study. Ultimately, Doyle asserts the challenge facing liberal states is whether to prioritize preserving liberalism’s legacy of democratization at the cost of liberal principles, or forging a new world order which better reflects the tenets of liberalism by redefining its concepts to extend to relations with illiberal nations. This conclusion puts Doyle’s findings in context with the policy consequences of the democratic peace theory, as liberal states demonstrate a strong preference to continue aggressively exporting democracy. This is particularly evident in the American National Security Strategy, which states, “we do not use our strength to press for unilateral advantage … we will extend the peace by encouraging free and open societies on every continent.”
David E. Spiro’s “The Insignificance of the Liberal Peace” elucidates empirical and theoretical shortcomings in Doyle’s study. In altering the Singer and Small data set, he demonstrates how minor adjustments to the criteria established for classifying democracies and wars have intriguing ramifications that enable researchers to force data into congruency with their theoretical perspectives. Given that both democracies and wars are relatively rare, Spiro then compares the democratic peace to the random probability of liberal dyads taking opposite sides in years where liberal states went to war, claiming the possible statistical insignificance of zero wars between democratic dyads is not addressed by democratic peace proponents. Moreover, Doyle’s tenuous link between liberalism and peace is also questioned, as Spiro asserts the more relevant policy consequence of liberal democracy is not the separate zone of peace, as Doyle contends, but the inclination of democracies to form strategic alliances. Conclusions that the “liberal conscience” of states provides a normative basis for peaceful relations, while pushing states to use force against illiberal regimes, appear contradictory, raising the possibility that democratic norms are not the cause of this perceived zone of peace.
The question whether positivist social science research can indeed claim objectivity is raised as Spiro questions the repercussions of subjectively coding the variables of war and democracy in the Singer and Small data set. Doyle rejects recently democratic nations, claiming the Peruvian-Ecuadorian war of 1941 can be discounted as it occurred “before the pacifying effects of liberalism could be ingrained.” Moreover, he completely ignores Finland’s alliance with the fascists in World War II. Spiro does not accept the aforementioned omission; consequently, for the years where Finland was at war, he tests the probability of 4-5 liberal dyads going to war as the null hypothesis against which actual events will be compared. The definitions of war also fail to satisfy Spiro, who expresses concerns that the data set does not distinguish between degrees of dyadic conflict, equating the American nuclear bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki to the Salvadorian-Honduran Football War resulting in less than two thousand deaths. Interestingly, Spiro appears to ignore that discrepancy shortly after criticizing it, claiming he will include as many conflicts as possible in the war category to more rigorously test the democratic peace against random chance. Though he highlights Doyle’s exemption of state-sponsored covert operations as an example of selectively defining war, Spiro also excludes them in his analysis. The methodology in this study is evidently subjective as well.
Spiro applies statistical analysis to his modification of Doyle’s data set to ascertain whether the fact no two democracies have ever gone to war is significantly compelling evidence compared to the null hypothesis that peace between democratic dyads is purely the result of random chance. The model of random chance is used as a metric in comparisons not because it is theoretically attractive, but rather to gauge whether Doyle's observations could have been produced by chance alone. Comparison of actual historical events with a simple probabilistic model concludes the “liberal peace does not differ significantly from a null hypothesis of random chance,” except in the cases of the Seven Weeks’ War, World War I, and the Korean War, where war was probable between democratic dyads, yet did not occur.
Though Spiro is justified in his conclusion that democratic peace theorists tend to attenuate the fact their pool of statistically compelling evidence is restricted to three events, that these three events are some of the most significant conflicts in the time period confirm the democratic peace theory suggests the trend may require further investigation rather than categorical dismissal. Accordingly, the latter part of his study, which raises questions regarding the predilection of liberal states to align with one another, is his most significant contribution to the democratic peace debate. The universal hospitality enjoyed among democracies can be sufficiently explained by the fact regimes with congruent interests are more likely to forge alliances than pursue rivalry. World War II provides an example of strategic alliances superseding ideological considerations, as Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union were illiberal regimes that enjoyed the support of democratic partners. The Allied forces welcomed the Soviet Union into their fold to topple the Nazi regime that had violated the sovereignty of other democracies, while Finland benefited from German military support in defence of their national freedom. Consequently, Spiro advocates a more “full-bodied realist theory” focussing on the motivation behind alliances rather than an absence of wars between democracies.
American involvement in Chilean affairs during the 1970s was motivated by a desire to subvert the Unidad Popular government led by Salvador Allende in accordance with a policy of containment. Despite the evidence of liberal norms and democratic institutions in Chile, the United States feared Allende’s agenda of reform would amount to eventual establishment of a communist state. Noteworthy democratic peace theory proponent Bruce Russett acknowledges the Chilean example, stating, “had war erupted between the USA and Chile, we would have had to re-examine any generalization that democracies do not make war against each other.” Democratic peace theorists do not count this intervention as proof against their theory given their arbitrary definition of war as an official conflict between sovereign states does not encompass covert intervention. Consequently, this example does not disprove the democratic peace as defined by its theorists, but reassesses its relevance by highlighting the limitations of its normative and institutional explanations. American action in Chile questions the ability of theorists such as Doyle to declare Kantian respect for the sovereignty of other democracies influences the foreign policy of democratic states. Moreover, the Chilean example demonstrates how liberal states can undermine the pacifying effects of democratic institutions by pursuing foreign policy objectives through alternative channels without their explicit consent.
Chile was a sound example of liberal democracy at the time the United States devised their strategy for intervention. American Ambassador Korry spoke highly of the entrenched democratic norms in Chile, declaring freedom of the press, an independent judiciary, and political openness denoted “democracy in Chile meant exactly what it meant in the United States.” Unlike Marxist dictators such as Ho Chi Minh and Fidel Castro, Allende was democratically elected. As he garnered a plurality and not a majority of all votes cast, his presidency required ratification by Chile’s multiparty congress. He acquired his mandate by making a constitutional guarantee that he would abide by the democratic rules according to which he had been elected, instilling confidence in congress members who had reservations regarding potentially illiberal ramifications of his socialist platform. Speculations that Allende advocated implementation of communism were not completely sound as there was a distinction between the communist and socialist elements of Chilean politics. The communist parties of Chile, which lent a degree of support to Allende’s coalition, rarely employed the word socialism to describe their vision; similarly, Allende did not campaign on promises of establishing communism. Incorporating socialist policy was nothing new to Chile, as Allende’s predecessor, Eduardo Frei, nationalized one of the country’s copper mines and engaged in land reform during his tenure. Doyle’s conception of the liberal state does not categorically exclude democracies engaging in welfare liberalism; consequently, Allende’s Chile clearly fits democratic criteria. American perception of Chile as a society on the brink of totalitarianism upon Allende’s election was flawed. Furthermore, the American reaction reflects a blatant disregard for the democratic institutions and norms in the country, epitomized in Henry Kissinger’s assertion America should not “stand by and watch a country go communist due to the irresponsibility of its own people” in the 1970 election.
This selective perception motivated the United States to engage in covert retaliation against Allende through economic sanctions, propaganda campaigns, and support of his rivals. According to the New York Times, over “$7 million [was] authorized for clandestine CIA activities in Chile ... in 1972 and 1973.” The first American strategy, Track I, sought to bribe the Chilean congress to declare Jorge Alessandri president with the intent he would subsequently call an election in which Eduardo Frei could once again run for office as the constitution only prevented him from serving another consecutive term. As the Americans failed to gain the support of Frei or the congress, the more aggressive Track II was devised. This endeavour involved cooperation between the CIA and renegade right-wing Chilean military officials to set the scene for a military coup by kidnapping General Rene Schneider. The plot was not executed as planned, resulting in the incarceration of its chief Chilean operative as the CIA claimed to have withdrawn from the effort several weeks prior to the event in question. In conjunction with debilitating economic sanctions, CIA assistance was pivotal in engendering the tension and upheaval that led to the Pinochet coup in 1973. Though the United States did not officially wage war in Chile, it inspired and facilitated a violent military takeover and years of fascist rule.
The American decision to employ covert methods to overthrow Allende is explained partially by a desire to bypass public opinion both domestically and internationally. As the Vietnam quagmire instilled reluctance to engage in armed intervention, convincing the American public to embark on another democratizing offensive could have proven difficult. The administration also feared the consequences of international public opinion, as evident in
a White House secret memorandum to President Nixon:
“We are strongly on record in support of self-determination and respect for free election; you are firmly on record for non-intervention in the internal affairs of this hemisphere and for accepting nations “as they are.” It would therefore be very costly for us to act in ways that appear to violate these principles, and Latin Americans and others in the world will view our policy as a test of our rhetoric.”
Covert operations were also preferred due to American perception these tactics would be most effective in halting communist activity as the insidious, conspiratorial nature of Marxism ought to warrant an equally clandestine counteroffensive. Moreover, entrusting the CIA with this operation meant the United States could devise and execute strategy unfettered by the institutional restraints of representative legislatures cited by democratic peace theorists. Acknowledging this weakness in the system, Doyle references the United States during the Cold War as an example of how democratic institutions may paradoxically bolster illiberal military elements to restore the “incisiveness of decision” benefitting undemocratic regimes. The Chilean case elucidates the contradiction in Doyle’s theory, which claims democracy obstructs military action against sovereign states in the international arena while its domestic effects may provide avenues for illiberal activity. Doyle contends mutual respect of democratic norms and institutions is correlated with peace; however, it is clear based on Spiro’s findings and the Chilean example that the antithetical effects with which democracy is credited in the domestic and international arenas challenge this tenuous link. Moreover, the CIA action in Chile questions the relevance of the theory as its definition of war excludes such extensive covert intervention that clearly provoked extreme upheaval, while including short-lived conflicts such as the Football War. Restricting the definition of war to interstate conflict ignores the reality of American interventionist policy during the Cold War, which prescribed covert operations for increased efficiency. The democratic peace proposition as it stands is inapplicable in this context, as analysis of different types of aggression would be required to compellingly state liberal institutions and norms prompt mutual respect and pacifism.
A recent policy interpretation of the democratic peace theory is the National Security Strategy of the United States of America, “based on a distinctly American internationalism” that reflects a union between democratic values and strategic interest. The document advocates expanding the liberal zone of peace through “a doctrine of pre-emption that suits the United States”, applying neoliberal principles of reciprocal economic and social gain to fulfill strategic interests. Political scientist Robert Cox stipulated “theory is always for someone and some purpose,” and it is evident the democratic peace presuppositions are being applied to complement and justify the policy articulated in the National Security Strategy.
The democratic peace theory has been vigorously debated since it was advanced by Doyle. Critics, such as Spiro, assert it is statistically weak, given democracies and wars fitting Doyle’s definitions are too rare to provide an empirical basis for his conclusions. Similarly, the restrictions placed on the categories of war and democracy ignore that liberal states have disregarded mutual respect for democratic institutions and norms and authorized the use of force against another likeminded state, as evident in the example of Nixon’s intervention in Chile. Doyle is cognizant of the limitations of his theory, asserting preservation of liberalism’s legacy of democratization may have the adverse effect of promoting illiberal practices. The relevance of a peace theory that concludes its underlying principles may engender warlike behaviour is questionable. Doyle’s theory provides a rich starting point in the study of the relationship between democracy and war; however, its conclusions ought not to be treated as a law.
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