Lipson, Charles. Reliable Partners: How Democracies Have Made a Separate Peace, Princeton University Press, 2003. 255 pp.
As part of our broader discussion of the idea of a “World War Zero” introduced here and here and elaborated in book reviews here, here, here, an article here, and further books here, there is a fascinating side-question: democracies almost never fight wars against each other. Perhaps World War Zero (the bloodless war between the US and Great Britain at the end of the19th century) is merely an axiom of political science rather than a reflection of uniquely Anglosphere values?
Popularized in more recent times by NYT columnist Thomas Friedman in corollary form as the “Golden Arches theory of Conflict Prevention,” scholars have long sought some factor, some underlying reason why democracies regularly confront each other, but very rarely begin wars with each other. Indeed, history shows that “democracies often go to war but very seldom against each other.”
Charles Lipson’s book offers a careful review of the evidence for the “democratic peace,” the most common explanations for it, and then proceeds to offer his own theory, with its implications for modern American foreign policy. Significantly, he tries to structure his theory in a way that will allow some novel predictions and some concrete way to test those predictions.
It is clear from history, especially modern history, that new and unstable democracies are more likely to fight each other, but even then, they fight less with each other than with non-democracies. As Lipson notes:
“[Peace among democratic states] works well in practice, but there is considerable confusion about how it works in theory. The lack of an answer is no joke, however. Despite extensive research, all we have is a remarkable correlation. We still lack a convincing explanation about why democracies do not fight each other.”
“How do we explain this apparent relationship between governmental forms and international outcomes? So far, three basic explanations have been advanced:
1. citizens’ reluctance to bear the costs of war
2. shared values among democracies; and
3. unique domestic institutions, which restrain elected leaders.”
The “cost explanation” initially developed by Immanuel Kant suggests that democracies, because of the direct accountability of the electorate for the risk of their own lives, are more hesitant to begin war. The “normative explanation”, also developed by Kant, suggests that democracies share values and would therefore be less likely, by nature, to fight each other. Finally, the “institutional explanation” suggests that the constitutional constraints of democracies simply make it more difficult for any leadership to engage in war. Delay in decision-making is inherent, as is the opportunity to resolve crisis by means other than war.
Lipson acknowledges the importance of these explanations, highlighting features of democracies that contribute to peaceful behaviour, but he notes that such explanations do not explain why democracies are more reluctant to fight each other but show less reluctance to fight non-democracies. Large democracies have regularly fought small dictatorships but do not fight small democracies.
Such explanations also do not explain why democracies have threatened each other, mobilized their militaries and attempted to destabilize their democratic neighbours. Clearly the “democratic peace” does not constrain much democratic squabbling and bluffing. These facts aren’t consistent with the three classic explanations for the “democratic peace” listed above.
“What we need is a much better understanding of how normative concerns operate, how they dovetail with material interests to define national preferences, and, ultimately, how they shape the choices that yield war and peace.”
Lipson posits that the classic explanations certainly explain co-operation but they do not explain extended peace. The problem, as he sees it, mirrors the Prisoner’s Dilemma. Stable co-operation only works if the two players value the future highly enough and “only if the game is played repeatedly, without a clear end point, and if defection by either player is deterred by the threat of punishment (that is, by the threat of non-cooperation later in the game).” For Lipson, the key insight is that the peacefulness of individual democracies is not a matter of their nature … it is a matter of their interaction. Thus the behaviour of democracies is a reflection of both “who they are” and “who they’re dealing with.”
Lipson’s extrapolation from this key insight is the contractual nature of democracy-democracy relationships:
“Because democracies have unique “contracting advantages,” they can usually avert or settle conflicts with each other by reliable, forward-looking agreements that minimize the dead-weight costs of direct military engagement. To do that, states must be confident their partners will live up to their promises or; if they do not, that they can protect themselves from the risks.”
Hmm. Where did we hear about this process before? Perhaps in C. Campbell’s paean to 19th century GB-US diplomacy (From Revolution to Rapprochement[215])!
“After all, in matters of war and peace, there are no effective global courts to punish violators or protect innocent parties. It is a self-help system. States must look first to themselves for protection in a dangerous world.”
Lipson thus centres the peaceable relations between democracies on their capacity to form long open-ended relationships where they have many common interests and an incentive to split the difference on their conflicts. The three classic explanations for the “democratic peace” can be wrapped into the contracting explanation. Democracies, being subject to domestic constraints on discussion and decision-making, telegraph their intentions to both their domestic and foreign audiences. Because the transfer of executive power in democracies is relatively seamless, and does not disrupt obligations created by previous administrations, democracies can treat with each other in ways that they cannot apply when dealing with tyrants and authoritarian regimes. For democracies in negotiation, both sides are subject to transparency in their past and current dealings. Such transparency allows more effective co-operation on future gains and risks.
This “contractual” view of the relations between democracies has much to offer our earlier discussions of intra-Anglosphere relations, the wisdom of crowds concept described here and why a nuclear Israel worries fewer people than a nuclear Iran.
Using Lipson’s insight, we may hypothesize that World War Zero was a century-long tussle between two rapidly-evolving democracies. As the 19th century progressed, an increasing number of treaty obligations not only reduced the potential items for conflict between the two peoples but also offered a “history” of behaviour that encouraged further co-operation and further compromise in the avoidance of lose-lose warfare (which would be “smashing your neighbour’s windows with gold doubloons” as one commentator of the time put it.).
Fortuitously, Great Britain was extending the franchise as the national institutions of the United States (legislative, executive, jurisprudential) were gaining in substance, depth, and respect. Freedom of the press ensured that both parties were dealing with many diverse sources of information about each other’s intentions. A century of relatively honest and predictable bargaining at the highest levels of state had brought the United States and America to the brink of the 20th century. In the face of burgeoning dictatorships and autocracies around the world, the transition from tentative democratic deal-makers to a full-throated Special Relationship was simply one more step on a road built of decades of trust, established through a multitude of commercial, legal, diplomatic and personal ties.
In my opinion, Lipson offers a powerful explanatory tool for examining World War Zero. What looks like an anomalous piece of history is more correctly viewed as the first and most momentous reconciliation between two democracies, a process that has been replicated by nations great and small with much greater frequency in the 20th century. In the 21st century, we have every expectation that non-democracies will be the more likely targets of military action by the world’s democracies. Similarly, military tensions will be most substantial between democracies that have the shortest or poorest track record of compromise and reconciliation. A Colombia and a Venezuela will relate to each other very differently than the United States and France, despite conflicting appetites and national priorities. Little Iceland has little to fear from its neighbours on either side of the North Atlantic.
Lipson extrapolates from this theoretical appreciation of “democratic peace” to offer foreign policy encouragement for any process that builds up incremental “contracting” histories between nascent democracies. Trust takes time and needn’t begin with dramatic or risky overtures. Policy for Lipson “should have two aims: making democratization irreversible and increasing transparency.” Expansion of NATO is just such a means for establishing inherent constraints on war that all democracies encounter. The domestic and foreign aspect of new “democratic peace” must be addressed persistently.
A brief word about “Reliable Partners” for readers. Despite being written by an academic for primarily an academic audience, this book is notable for its pleasant writing style. Clear and even-handed, it makes its case with generous regard to contrary viewpoints. While a brief review can’t explore the details of Lipson’s summary of earlier explanations and the literature on the “democratic peace,” his book can be recommended as an excellent first stop for anyone interested in the issue.
For those interested in the Anglosphere, we may just be seeing another hidden aspect of social psychology which offered fortuitous “first past the post” benefits to Great Britain and the United States. The transfer of Great Power hegemony traditionally involved some great military and economic upheaval. That the first two great democracies managed such a transfer without bloodshed is a matter for thanksgiving, and perhaps now, for greater post hoc understanding.
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Table of Contents
1 The Argument in a Nutshell
2 Is There Really Peace Among Democracies?
3 A Contracting Theory of the Democratic Peace and Its Alternatives
4 Why Democratic Bargains are Reliable: Constitutions, Open Politics, and the Electorate
5 Leadership Succession as a Cause of War: The Structural Advantages of Democracies
6 Extending the Argument: Implications of Secure Contracting among Constitutional Democracies
7 Conclusion: Reliable Partners and Reliable Peace
Just curious -- does Lipson discuss Spencer Weart's Never at War? Weart offers a similar argument, based ultimately on decision-making style in democratic states. Weart also makes an interesting distinction between democracies, oligarchies, and autocracies, using a somewhat idiosyncratic definition of "oligarchy" (but one that makes sense given his concerns and analysis. He also has a very comprehensive examination of the know historical data base of wars, analysing each conflict against his theory. He came up with the conclusion that not only did democracies seldom war against each other, but that oligarchies seldom warred against each other, either, while democracies and oligarchies fell into conflict with each other, and autocracies frequently warred against everybody, regardless of type.
Weart's framework works quite well for analysis of WW0 and intra-Anglosphere conflict in general. Great Britain transitioned from being an oligarchy to a democracy by Weart's definitions in the period between the Third Reform Act and the ending of the Lords' veto -- roughly the last decade of the 19th century and the first of the Twentieth. This is exactly the period in which the Anglo-American rapproachement flowered.
Posted by: Jim Bennett at February 4, 2006 09:03 PMNot only is WW0 an early example of this, but the cultural and linguistic commonalities would have made the whole process go more smoothly.
In the Anglo-American case the opportunity costs of going to war would have been immensely high. The two economies were deeply interwoven -- in fact to a large degree they were one interwoven economy. Britain subsisted on food grown in the American Midwest.
So, unusually low transaction costs, unusually high opportunity costs for going to war.
And, as you note, while it is unfortunate when two small countries fight, and lethal for some, it would be a catastrophe were two global hegemons, one fading and one rising, to go to war. So the stakes were very, very high in this case.
Posted by: Lex at February 5, 2006 08:23 AMLex:
Yeah that's my sentiment exactly: Britian and America share so many commonalities that's it was pretty obvious they wouldn't fight. Sure 1812, they did fight but once they realized that such fightning would be a phyrric victory for either side (and the common French enemy) that they've never fought against each other. Suspicions sure
Now British and French rapprochement that led to the Entente cordiale. Sadly, the British learnt too late that after 1830 the French weren't the enemy, Prussia was. Unerstandably the Brits didn't pay too much attention to the rest of Europe as long as France didn't rise up again and challenge British hegemony
"...it was pretty obvious they wouldn't fight"
Hmmm. Not really. There were several tense moments. Dispute over Oregon territory. During and after the Civil War. Late 19th C clashes over South America. American Navy had war plans for Canada and Britain up to 1939. War could have happened over several issues. The interesting thing is that Britain and the USA always stepped back from the brink.
Posted by: Lex at February 5, 2006 04:20 PMThe idea that oligarchies also do not go to war with each other is intriguing. That would certainly suggest something in the decision-process of a nation is involved. The type of information available in democracies is similar. Each can watch the decision-making unfold on the other side, and have some understanding of it. Even when subject to the frictions and abuses of democratic process, the decision makers have an awareness what the public knows and its likely response.
Oligarchies may have a similar ability to observe, understand, and influence each other. The sense of predictability of one's potential opponent may be a large factor. This would explain why autocracies, which misunderstand the actions of other nations, are not able to predict their opponents' reactions, nor are other nations able to predict theirs.
Posted by: Assistant Village Idiot at February 5, 2006 04:29 PMThe idea that oligarchies also do not go to war with each other is intriguing. That would certainly suggest something in the decision-process of a nation is involved.
That's Weart's general conclusion. He suggests that oligarchies find democracies untrustworthy. A "gentleman's agreement" between the ruling circles of two oligarchies tends to hold up over time. When they try to have such an understanding with the political class of a democracy, they tend to get brroken after the opposing party takes power, and often the messy details of the deal get splashed over the press.
Posted by: Jim Bennett at February 6, 2006 05:27 PMA strange storyline since technically there are NO democracies in the world currently. Also interesting since today just about EVERY country CALLS itself a democracy. In fact China calls itself the 'highest form of democracy'. If I remember history correctly Hitler was ELECTED in a representative government, and in fact used a referendum before 'invading' Austria. That's far more democratic than any decisions made by modern nations (apart from Switzerland the people of no country have DIRECT say over whether they go to war or not).
During World War One the 'country' of Canada didn't even have a choice on whether it would go to war or not.
Even the 'idea' of war has become so confusing its hard to define. Bush said it was a 'war on terror' but didn't really call it a war to avoid the Geneva conventions.
The argument also misses the point that just about any country in South America was 'virtually' at war with the US since their militaries were supplied and funded by the US. So the argument is kind of silly, kind of like the 'there is no such thing as black swans' argument that was rendered redundant once black swans were found. All the conclusions from such a statement become balderdash.
Posted by: danniboy at February 6, 2006 07:53 PM