Foreign Affairs
hese 48 short essays are highly recommended for those who cannot wait for the proverbial owl of Minerva to spread its wings.
[gag me with a spoon]
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Significantly Different
Timothy Garton Ash has travelled among truth tellers and political charlatans…’ and I was unsure which he would turn out to be; a truth teller or a charlatan! He is, of course, neither
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The Nation
Timothy Garton Ash is a fine writer of "analytic reportage," but his work has lately displayed symptoms of columnitis.
Contemporary "serious" newspapers carry a lot of columnists, and perhaps, as breaking news becomes easily available in other forms, the columns will be more and more the Unique Selling Point of the individual paper (perhaps they are already). The column is a handy pulpit, but the requirement to preach when the appointed day comes round, whether or not the columnist has anything new or important to say, can be damaging to one’s intellectual and literary judgment. The condition diagnosed as Compulsive Columnist Disorder may set in: the writer can’t help expressing confident and authoritative-sounding views upon almost any subject. Garton Ash often has something important to say, and he strikes me as one of the best exponents of this peculiar craft currently writing in the British press (I speak here as a regular reader of the Guardian). But even he cannot escape the déformation professionelle of the trade.
Even Garton Ash occasionally displays some of the secondary symptoms of columnitis: trite phrases, tired clichés and egregious puns (when his piece on Isaiah Berlin’s letters appeared in the NYRB, it was certainly not titled, as it is here, "Ich bin ein Berliner"). At the end of his admirable discussion of the need for European citizens of non-Muslim background to forestall the slide into disaffection and extremism by everyday acts of welcome and respect, he asks whether it is still possible that they will rise to this challenge, and answers, "Yes, but it’s already five minutes to midnight—and we are drinking in the last chance saloon." In this case, the double cliché is doubly disturbing: the jacked-up alarmism of the columnist is bad enough, but in addition the slackness of the clichés undermine the moral strenuousness he is attempting to encourage. Or again, when reflecting on the changes that have come over Europe in the past half century, he writes, "Most Europeans now live in liberal democracies. That has never before been the case; not in 2,500 years. It’s worth celebrating." Well, perhaps, but what could the emphatic gloss "not in 2,500 years" actually mean? There weren’t exactly a lot of "liberal democracies" around for the first 2,300 years of that period; indeed the concepts of "liberal" and "democracy" were scarcely current except in peculiar and now archaic senses of the words. Not only does this seem triumphalist whiggism of an uncharacteristically simple-minded kind, but it echoes the cadence of stump oratory.
It is hard not to feel, in reading the shorter pieces gathered here, that a certain forced punchiness is the stylistic correlative of his confidence that there is a right course of action in world politics and that we (whoever "we" are) are the ones to undertake it. To his credit, he reproduces the piece he wrote for the Guardian on the eve of the decision to invade Iraq, in which he summarized the arguments for and against, concluding inconclusively that "I remain unconvinced of the case for—and doubtful of the case against." With hindsight, he concedes that the arguments against invasion have stood up to analysis, and to events, a hell of a lot better than the arguments for, and that many Iraqis believe that things in their country were worse subsequently than under Saddam. Nonetheless, he reflects—and I respect his honesty as well as his principles here—"I still defend the right of the commentator not always to take sides, but in this case I got it wrong. Next time, I shall need a great deal more convincing. I’m not alone in that."
So far, so admirable. But the brevity of the form leaves us wondering whether Garton Ash endorses what appears to be the implicit premise, namely that the United States, or any other powerful country acting unilaterally, has the right to play the role of the world’s disciplinarian. In his original article he took Tony Blair to be acting as "a Gladstonian Christian liberal interventionist." That’s a pretty fancy gloss on what looked to many people even at the time to be unjustified, overconfident disregard for the lives of citizens of another sovereign state with whom Britain was not at war. The issue was, needless to say, very complex, but perhaps the quoted phrase obscures rather than illuminates the real issues. Insofar as one can draw parallels, one can perhaps imagine Gladstone authorizing a military expedition to protect British subjects or to help rescue persecuted Christians, but that’s a long way from the desolation visited upon contemporary Iraq largely because Britain’s more powerful ally felt it needed to do something in the wake of the 9/11 attacks.
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Garton Ash, I should make clear, is very far from being one of the intellectual cheerleaders for Pentagon hawkishness. He is not to be counted among those liberals who were Bush’s "useful idiots," and since 2003 he has been clear and emphatic in his negative verdict on that administration’s foreign policy. He recognizes what is so misleading and so dangerous about the idea of a "war on terror" (at most, "it’s a war to prevent such people wanting to become terrorists in the first place"), just as he will have no truck with those calling for a secular jihad against "Islamofascism." His views are measured and thoughtful, even if they do not always command agreement. What I am pointing to is not a ground for disagreement, especially in this particular case, which involved a difficult decision about which opinion was very divided at the time. What I’m pointing to, rather, is the brisk confidence with which he draws up the moral balance sheet on very complex issues and the taken-for-grantedness of the assumption that there exists a power with the agency, and the right, to try to arrange the pieces on the global chessboard to produce the "correct" answer. He emphasizes that he favors the "promotion" of democracy and does not think we should "sit on the sidelines and jeer" at the United States when its attempts turn out badly. But if we restate this sentiment in less pejorative language, do we not think it is one of the tasks of the independent commentator to remind governments of the limits of their knowledge and the frailty of their designs? This is not the same as head-in-the-sand irresponsibility or purer-than-thou moralism; it is, rather, a matter of being true to one’s intellectual vocation. There may be times when it might be better to decline the invitation to pronounce or to advise the powerful, not just because a region or a problem may be beyond one’s competence but also because briskly identifying the lesser evil tends to be habit-forming, working at the expense of that more extended brooding on a subject that not only probes beneath the surface of the evidence but also puts pressure on one’s own intellectual categories.
This is not about the seductions of power; it is about the seductions of the pulpit. In an ideal world (perhaps that same world in which Canada could become a member of the EU), one might imagine Garton Ash taking a sabbatical from opinion for a while, a vow of journalistic silence. Perhaps he could withdraw to a (well-appointed) cave in North Oxford and brood on questions of agency and causality, on issues of language and description, on the relations between the roar of the world and the whisper of thought. Perhaps a different form of that "stubborn grain of alienation" would help. After all, the slow food movement needs its slow thought counterpart. There are few better practitioners of the genre of "analytical reportage," as he calls it, than Timothy Garton Ash, and I admire the boldness and energy with which he has cultivated this particular métier. I would admire him still more if, when assembling his essays in book form, he concluded that even his best columns should not be subjected to the rigors of a curtain call.
[ouch!]