Martin van Staden made a persuasive case for premising the legitimacy of foreign intervention on “freedom credentials”.
In his excellent article Against the moral equivalence of states, Martin van Staden makes a very persuasive case that states are not inherently equal, but should be judged on the degree of freedom of their people.
This degree of freedom, which Van Staden chooses to base on the Cato Institute’s Human Freedom Index, but which could also be based on similar rankings, like the Freedom in the World ranking by Freedom House, or a combination of such indices, establishes a moral hierarchy that gives legitimacy to foreign interventions by more free countries in the affairs of less free countries.
Likewise, choosing sides in a foreign conflict, he argues, ought to be based on which side is more respectful of freedom.
This establishes a clear moral principle, based on the ultimate human right – the right to self-ownership and individual liberty. Not only is it legitimate for a free country to intervene in an unfree country with the aim of liberating its people from tyranny, but, as Van Staden says, it is a moral obligation.
Ambivalence
I have long been ambivalent on questions of the legitimacy of foreign interventions.
On one hand, I’ve always thought America for the most part to be a force for good in the world, and that I’m okay with a country that espouses liberty and free trade acting as the world police. I’ve also long been skeptical of the UN’s ability to do this job, since it is overrun by authoritarian, corrupt, and illegitimate governments who all have an equal vote, which renders it incapable of acting against tyranny.
One the other hand – as I expressed last week – I’ve also been troubled by the precedent set by unilateralism, and worried about the breakdown of the post-war rules-based international order.
Those rules, being based on universally agreed principles of democracy and human rights, seemed like valuable guard rails against the threat of unilateral aggression. Besides, America’s track record of intervention has been spotty, at best, no matter the moral justifications.
The naïveté of libertarian pacifism
I’ve often kicked against the pacificism of many libertarians. If, so the libertarian argument goes, government power is inherently illegitimate, governments are inefficient in providing domestic services, and economic intervention often does more harm than good, then why wouldn’t that apply to government interventions in foreign countries? Why would we expect military power to be legitimate, efficient, and effective?
Pacificism always struck me as hopelessly naïve. If pacifists had their way, we’d all be speaking German, Japanese, Italian or Russian. I agree with Van Staden that tyranny and totalitarianism must be resisted, if necessary, by force of arms.
Some of my ambivalence was expressed well in this 2015 column in which I said I was wrong to support the 2003 invasion of Iraq, on the grounds that though there were legitimate reasons for the intervention, the stated casus belli turned out not only to be mistaken, but an actual lie.
Liberal principle for intervention
I am therefore indebted to Van Staden for stating a principle that clarifies how I, as a classical liberal, can more clearly think about foreign interventions.
I concede that my argument about the danger of unilateralism is, at least in principle, defeated by an appeal to “freedom credentials”.
That enables me to agree with him when he says: “A botched intervention is condemnable. But leaving tyranny in peace is unforgivable.”
It gives expression to views on foreign interventions that I held instinctively, but had been unable to elucidate clearly before.
Motives
I’m less convinced that the clear liberal principle to which Van Staden appeals is sufficient to legitimise the US intervention in Venezuela, however.
As I stated before, I agree that Nicolás Maduro deserved to fall, since he was a dictator with no democratic legitimacy, who imposed a ruinous, oppressive socialism upon the Venezuelan people, and who nationalised private property for the enrichment of himself and his patronage network.
I’m not convinced about the Trump administration’s motives, however.
He made much of the fact that Maduro ran a narco-state and needed to be brought to trial, but not two months ago issued an unconditional pardon to Juan Orlando Hernández, the former president of Honduras, after serving only a year of a 45-year prison sentence for trafficking over 400 tons of cocaine into the US.
Clearly, narco-trafficking isn’t as big a deal to Trump as he says it is.
In leaving the rump of the Maduro regime in place, in return for access to Venezuela’s heavy crude oil – which suits US refineries better than the light crude it mostly produces itself – it seems clear that Trump wasn’t particularly motivated by restoring democracy to Venezuela, either.
In fact, it seems clear to me that Trump’s motives were nothing other than gaining access to an easily-accessible source of heavy crude oil.
The same mercenary motive can be seen in the “deal” he did with Ukraine for access to its minerals, and his stated interest in the mineral deposits of Greenland.
Trump’s brand of transactional geopolitics is not designed to liberate people from tyranny, but rather, to capture resources for America. He seems just as willing to do “deals” with tyrants, in return for raw materials, foreign direct investment, or market access, than he does with free countries.
If liberating people is a legitimate cause for intervention, then surely any other motive must delegitimise an intervention?
America’s “freedom credentials”
Although the US still ranks fairly high on most rankings of human freedom, a lot has changed since Trump returned to power a year ago.
In his domestic policies, Trump has been the very opposite of liberal.
He has attacked the press, fired people over political speech, stacked the civil service with loyalists, described political opponents as “the enemy within”, smeared the victims of police brutality, scapegoated minorities and other out-groups, turned the clock back on women’s rights and LGBTQ+ equality, treated suspected illegal immigrants (including American citizens) with extraordinary cruelty, ruled by executive order, declared one “national emergency” after another to centralise power and bypass Congress, openly expressed contempt for the judiciary, deployed the military against American civilians, punished “blue” cities over trumped-up claims of out-of-control criminality, tolerated white nationalists and insurrectionists and even recruited them into ICE and other federal departments, defunded academia and interfered with academic freedom, taken government stakes in private companies, influenced mergers and acquisitions to serve his own ends, and threatened to annex peaceful and free sovereign neighbours.
All of these policies are consistent with fascism and inconsistent with classical liberalism, which calls America’s “freedom credentials” into question.
Geopolitical reality
I’m also concerned that a principled appeal to “freedom credentials” might be hard to square with geopolitical reality.
The notion of ranking countries according to the degree of freedom enjoyed by their people might seem appealing as a basis for reforming the dysfunctional international institutions of the post-war settlement, but getting enough countries to accept that idea would be a challenge.
The notion of “freedom” is often invoked to defend illiberal prejudices. Many people consider “freedom” to mean the freedom to discriminate, the freedom to exclude, or the “freedom” to dominate other people.
Many illegitimate foreign interventions can be cloaked in a veener of legitimacy by appealing to the rhetoric of freedom – witness Vladimir Putin’s claim that he is merely acting against “Nazis” in Ukraine and their oppression of Russian-speaking minorities.
The US has been pretty deceptive itself in the past, when its national interests dictated the support of a strongman or repressive regime, but public relations required a narrative that spoke of freedom and human rights.
The Cato Institute itself has deplored the fact that “US policy regarding dictatorships has been one of unprincipled extremes,” and the US has often overthrown democratically-elected governments in favour of puppet dictators.
This suggests that rankings such as those of Cato or Freedom House can never serve as a formal basis for legitimacy in international law, and the ultimate decider remains the possession of superior military power.
(Even so, I agree with Van Staden that I much prefer the world’s sole superpower to be the US, as opposed to, say, China.)
Legitimacy is not clearcut
The other problem with using relative freedom as a determinant of interventionist legitimacy is that it can also legitimise decidedly illegitimate interventions.
Van Standen notes that Denmark ranks higher than the US on the Cato ranking, which is why he would oppose an assault on Greenland. Switzerland and New Zealand, however, rank higher than Denmark. Would they have a legitimate right to annex Greenland?
Conversely, Australia ranks higher than Japan. Sweden ranks higher than Norway. Canada ranks higher than the United States (and Americans could use a little liberation right about now). In a familiar echo of the past, Germany ranks higher on Cato’s ranking than the Netherlands, Belgium, France and the UK.
Or should we require a larger gap between relative freedom rankings? But then, what should that gap be? South Africa is 73rd on the list, out of 165 countries. Should the US (ranked 17th) have the right to intervene and topple the GNU, on the basis that it is corrupt, socialist and harmful to the people of South Africa (which it undoubtedly is)?
Should we only consider countries in the bottom half of the ranking to be legitimate targets for regime change? If so, then Israel would be entitled to invade Jordan, Chile would be entitled to move against both Argentina and Brazil, and South Africa would be justified in liberating Lesotho (and the last time we tried that, we lost).
Idealism
As a matter of principle, I really like Van Staden’s appeal to the “freedom credentials” of countries involved in international disputes.
In practice, however, I fear it is hopelessly idealistic.
Yes, it helps one to frame and justify one’s support or opposition to particular foreign interventions. As a basis for international policy, however, it falls short.
I’m not convinced that an appeal to the legitimacy of pro-freedom interventions can halt the increasing militarisation of the world.
Trump is fortifying the western hemisphere as America’s sphere of influence, is asserting (or trying to assert) control over strategic bulwarks such as the Panama Canal and Greenland, and recently called for defence spending to increase by a staggering 50% to meet “these very troubled and dangerous times”.
European nations have not balked at doubling or tripling their own defence spending, at Trump’s request. Australia’s Labour government has called for “historic” and “generational” investments which will double its defence budget over the next seven year. Countries across Asia are boosting defence spending, too. China’s defence spending has more than doubled since 2013. Taiwan will raise its spending from 3% of GDP to 5% of GDP. Formerly pacifist Japan is set to double its defence spending as a share of GDP. South Korea is increasing its military spending. India has become one of the world’s biggest defence spenders.
A rapidly re-arming world does not bode well for a future of peace and freedom. I remain convinced that the world is headed into a new era of great power rivalry and conflict.
The world is marching towards war, and I’m not convinced that an appeal to the legitimacy of liberal principles will be sufficient to keep the peace.
[Image: Freedom.webp]
The views of the writer are not necessarily the views of the Daily Friend or the IRR.
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