Tragizm polityki naszych czasów. Strach, fatum i brzemię władzy

by Robert D. Kaplan, Michał Głatki (Translator)

Książka dla każdego, kto chce dogłębnie zrozumieć tragizm polityki naszych czasów.

Partnerem wydania jest miesięcznik "Układ Sił"



Podczas długiej kariery reportera wojennego i komentatora polityki międzynarodowej w Europie, na Bliskim Wschodzie i w Azji Wschodniej Robert D. Kaplan doszedł do przekonania, że istotą geopolityki jest tragedia. W tej wnikliwej książce wykorzystuje dzieła starożytnych greckich dramaturgów, Szekspira, niemieckich filozofów i współczesnych klasyków, aby zgłębić najistotniejsze problemy stosunków międzynarodowych: porządek, nieład, bunt, ambicje, lojalność wobec rodziny i państwa, przemoc i błędy władzy.

Dowodzi, że wielkie dylematy polityki międzynarodowej nie wynikają z konfrontacji dobra ze złem, kiedy wybór jest oczywisty, ale z rywalizacji dobra z dobrem, kiedy wybory są trudne moralnie, nie do pogodzenia i obarczone konsekwencjami. To przejmujące rozważania nad znaczeniem stosunków międzynarodowych dla życia narodów.

Genres: Politics, History, Nonfiction, Philosophy, International Relations, War, Audiobook

176 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2023

About the author

Robert David Kaplan is an American journalist, currently a National Correspondent for the Atlantic Monthly. His writings have also been featured in The Washington Post, The New York Times, The New Republic, The National Interest, Foreign Affairs and The Wall Street Journal, among other newspapers and publications, and his more controversial essays about the nature of U.S. power have spurred debate in academia, the media, and the highest levels of government. A frequent theme in his work is the reemergence of cultural and historical tensions temporarily suspended during the Cold War.

Reviews

[Loredana (Bookinista08) · Rating 4 out of 5]

O carte foarte bună, despre cum mentalitatea tragediilor grecești ne poate învăța umilitatea și precauția la nivel macro, în contextul conflictelor globale. Până la urmă, este o carte care îndeamnă la reflecție și la acceptarea aspectelor care refuză schimbarea. Să înoți împotriva curentului nu este o idee bună, cel mai înțelept lucru ar fi să te adaptezi vremurilor și să încerci să faci cât mai mult bine poți cu ceea ce ai la îndemână. A nu se confunda neapărat cu stoicismul, care este marcat de fatalism și de pesimism. Gândirea tragică este totuși pozitivă, însă clar influențată de frica eșecului și de dorința de supraviețuire. Indiferent că este vorba de un singur individ sau de un stat. În fine, bun volum, însă mi-a părut cam subdezvoltat și de aceea i-am scăzut o stea.

[Julian Worker · Rating 5 out of 5]

Tragedy is not despair but comprehension, an understanding that to think tragically is to know that all things can't be fixed, even as life must go on.

The Ancient Greeks knew that they had to accept much of the world just as it was, as it came to them, as they encountered it.

Robert D Kaplan draws on the writings of three great Greek playwrights, Aeschylus, Euripides, and Sophocles as well as more 'modern' writers such as Shakespeare and Albert Camus to illustrate the impact on the human mind of the changes brought about by conflicts and social upheavals.

Recommended.

[David Wineberg · Rating 4 out of 5]

Robert Kaplan is renowned for his keen insight in covering foreign wars and the politics associated with them. Unusually for a journalist, he has had the ear of past American administrations. Such is his reputation and credibility. How strange then, that his latest book, The Tragic Mind, is entirely about ancient Greek versus Shakespearean plays and characters. It takes a while to even get used to the idea that journalist Robert Kaplan is using fictional characters to explain the harsh realities of the world. Wars are no longer sufficient then?

Right up front, Kaplan admits shame for supporting and encouraging the American invasion of Iraq. His thought at the time was that Saddam Hussein was so evil, the country could only benefit from his removal. That the USA clearly had no idea how to win the peace, had lost every war it entered since WWII, and was invading Iraq on a pack of obvious lies, did not weigh on his support or influence to plow ahead with a coup. He was gung-ho for war. Strange for a war correspondent.

He then watched in horror as hundreds of thousands of civilians were murdered, hundreds of thousands of soldiers were turned into neurotic hate machines, trillions of dollars were drained away to achieve nothing, and that Iraq 20 years later is far worse off than before America liberated it.

It has bothered him for two decades, and has resulted in this unusual book. The book is a purge, a catharsis, a way for others to understand and avoid making his big mistake. It focuses on tragedy, not the death of thousands, but the self-discovery by the hero of powerlessness, of fear in place of bold moves, of human failings clouding global accomplishments. This mindset is on view throughout the plays of the ancient Greeks and of course in Shakespeare.

Here is his definition: “Tragedy is not fatalism; nor is it related to the quietism of the Stoics. It is comprehension. By thinking tragically, one is made aware of all of one’s limitations, and thus can act with more effectiveness.” He finds this in all kinds of Shakespearean and Greek play characters, and describes them in action and in great detail. Their stories make up almost the whole book. King Lear resists self-awareness. The Macbeths can’t figure out what happened. Hamlet is entirely analysis of the impossible situation. Ignoring geopolitics is arrogant and naïve. The state comes before humanity… Tragedy of this kind is available and has been on display in drama for 2500 years now. It was the essence of pop culture until our time.

Along the way, Kaplan also cites numerous philosophers and experts on Shakespeare and the ancient Greeks. He finds affirmation here and there, and is only too willing to share. For example, a medieval Persian philosopher, Hamid al-Ghazali, said that one year of anarchy is worse than a hundred years of tyranny. Perfect fit.

Kaplan has become very conscious that societies need form and structure to flourish. The state has a monopoly on violence for good reason: it’s the only way to grow, he says. For Kaplan, anarchy is random, inconsistent, unpredictable, vicious and terrorizing. To remove a government and replace it with nothing is his nightmare. Everything, including society itself, stops. Anarchy is the human world demonstration of entropy in action.

Leaders are there to prevent it: “It is the burden of leadership that provides tragedy with many of its most searing and pivotal moments,” he says. This is the challenge leaders rise to, even if it ruins them, as so many did in both Greek and Shakespearean plays.

Kaplan discovers that the ancient Greeks and Shakespeare differed in one major way: the Greeks laid all the fault at the feet of the gods. It was the gods’ unchallengeable decisions that led to continual tragedies, whether it was Zeus taking eternal revenge on Prometheus by tying him to a rock and having a blood-red eagle gnaw at his liver for eternity, or sending whole armies to their doom.

In Shakespeare, the fault lies within the mind of the protagonist. A defect of personality and intellect causes not merely disasters, but horrific anguish within the family and the mind (and sometimes the nation). Two different approaches to the same themes, determined by the culture of the day: the gods of the Greeks, and the psychology of the English. But the result is the same: generalized misery, one way or another.

The Greeks, in deifying Nature, gave the god Dionysus both tyranny and life force as his departments, including all their lusts and pleasures. Playwrights counted on him to enable them in life, both positive and negative. A lot of the book is about Dionysus and his influence on their work.

One of the problems according to Kaplan is that current generations of Americans have no experience with war on their own territory, or tyranny, or anarchy. So they have no fear of any of it, and don’t care to be prepared to deal with it. In Kaplan’s terms they have not been trained to think tragically. This is also his personal issue, since he figured anything would be better than Saddam Hussein. Clearly not so.
Today’s pop culture is all about comic book and video game superheroes, not the soul-searching decisions of men facing existential crises. So, few people are prepared to think in those terms. Nor do they see any reason to. Entertainment today is eye-candy, not mind candy.

Kaplan says things that are arguable, too. He says “There can be no worse burden on a leader’s peace of mind” than knowing he screwed up, costing the lives of millions, including many of his own countrymen– for nothing. “It will occupy his final thoughts as he is dying.”

History does not support this. Usually they don’t care. That’s the Henry Kissinger story, the Donald Trump story, the Xi Jinping story, the Josef Stalin story, the Vladimir Putin story… It is endless. They just move on, and have no problem doing it again. In current culture, the highminded concepts and tales of Shakespeare and the ancient Greeks are for entertainment purposes only. From where I sit anyway.

Kaplan reinforces this himself, when he writes about Shakespeare’s Iago, the most purely evil character Kaplan has ever found there. The man has only drive – no fear, no remorse, no consideration, no contemplation and no compromise. Kaplan calls him Satan. Here’s something Iago has to say in this book: “Reputation is an idle and most false imposition, oft got without merit and lost without deserving. You have lost no reputation at all, unless you repute yourself a loser.” Has Trump written all over it.

I was uncomfortable throughout the book (not necessarily a bad thing) for two reasons. First, all the evidence Kaplan amasses for his observation and argument comes entirely from fiction and historical fiction. Some of the characters were actual kings and princes, of course, but none of the words he quotes ever came from their mouths. This is not the solid foundation for proving a point that Kaplan wants it to be. And would demand if any other journalist tried it.

Second, the anguish is clearly Kaplan’s personal trial, and it is evident throughout. He feels terrible about what he saw in Iraq and that he might have had a role in promulgating it. So the book is a long search for answers to a question he never asked himself before, but has been asking himself ever since. This is a book for a psychotherapist to read.

David Wineberg

(The Tragic Mind, Robert Kaplan, January 2023)

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[Steve Greenleaf · Rating 5 out of 5]

This latest release (17 Jan. 2023) from Robert D. Kaplan arises from his experiences as a foreign reporter, war correspondent, and influential voice in American foreign affairs. Indeed, it’s perhaps this latter role that provided the most proximate motivation for these reflections. Kaplan notes here, as he has previously, that his book, Balkan Ghosts, was widely credited by members of the Clinton administration with creating a reluctance among administration decision-makers to intervene in the civil war to stop the Serbian genocide in Kosovo. And, as he has written several times previously, he came to deeply regret (even to the point of suffering clinical depression, he reports) his initial support for invading Iraq to topple Saddam Hussein. Some decision-makers and influencers might simply slough off any serious reflection and self-criticism that can arise from such errors in judgment. “We all make mistakes, right?” But Kaplan refuses to let himself off the hook so easily. He not only refuses to ignore his mistakes, but he also seeks to understand them and learn from them. And this makes his mea culpa more than just a public demonstration of private remorse, instead, it provides a reason for reflection. Whipping oneself in public could easily become tiresome and pedantic, but not so here. In a sense, this particular book and self-revelation might be thought of as an act of penance, an attempt to not only purge the sin—the error—but also to right the scales, at least to some degree. And in doing this penance, he provides his readers with a significant benefit.

Note that Kaplan’s reasons for supporting the invasion of Iraq were neither arbitrary nor irrational. As a foreign correspondent working out of Greece and assigned to cover Eastern Europe, the Balkans, and the Middle East, Kaplan observed the effects of two terribly oppressive regimes: that of the Ceausescu (husband and wife) in Romania and Saddam in Iraq on multiple occasions. Kaplan thought that deposing Saddam would benefit the Iraqi people. On the whole, it did not. Not because Saddam wasn’t all that awful (he was), but because the civil war and chaos that followed the U.S. invasion were worse. This observation became a fundamental tenet for Kaplan: liberty requires order; order must precede liberty. This isn’t a welcome insight to most liberals (the “tempered liberals” described by Joshua Cherniss is his Liberalism in Dark Times, excepted). The insight that order must precede “freedom” was ignored by the neoconservatives of the W. Bush administration. Genuine conservatives would value the insight and modesty of Kaplan’s claim for the relationship between order and freedom.

But Kaplan’s book addresses contemporary issues only in passing. His deeper intent is to ground the morality required by international relations (and, I contend, other types of relations). He grounds the morality of this realm of human action in the reality of tragedy. Tragedy, Kaplan argues, serves as the most useful model for understanding the ethos of many types of political relationships (although he concentrates on international relations). And Kaplan’s theory of tragedy emphasizes that tragedies, in addition to highlighting overweening hubris and other forms of human folly, also delve into the sometimes irresolvable conflicts between differing and incompatible manifestations of the good. (Hegel is a proponent of this theory.) Although not mentioned (as I recall), Weber’s distinction between “the 'ethic of ultimate ends' [and] . . . an 'ethic of responsibility’” (from Politics as a Vocation) is fundamental and addresses the same set of problems. Hard choices abound, and no fool-proof answer to these conundrums exists.

Kaplan has seen a lot up close, including war, crime, poverty, and tyranny. And in addition to his diverse and sometimes harrowing experiences, Kaplan also ponders and reflects; he’s a reader. As Kaplan reported in his preceding book (Adriatic), he reads to travel and travels to read. And he shares his reading in his writing. Kaplan appreciates his experiences through the lens of his reading, which often, as in this book, reaches back to the ancient Greeks. In this work, Kaplan focuses on the three great tragedians of ancient Athens: Sophocles (especially Antigone), Aeschylus, and Euripides. And to supplement their insights, he turns to Shakespeare. Not a shabby reading list. And to be clear, Kaplan isn’t simply name-dropping. He explores and engages the scholarly commentary on these works, seeking to gain the marrow of their insights. This book complements Kaplan’s many earlier works that are so insightful about geopolitical and strategic realities. One may rightly refer to such realities as “the great game,” but like all political life, they entail vital issues of morality and tragedy, as well as aspects of a game. In this book, Kaplan rounds out his appreciation of all the dimensions of political decision-making in a complicated world.

Kaplan, as other writers I’ve come to value, from Thucydides to Augustine to Machiavelli (see several recent posts—with more to come—on this site); to the authors of The Federalist Papers; to great twentieth and twenty-first figures like Niebuhr (e.g., here & here), Morgenthau (Hans) (considered here, along with others, including Kissinger), Aron, Carr, Waltz, Ophuls (William née Patrick) (here, here, here, & here), Charles Hill, and John Mearsheimer (even as I disagree with his diagnosis of the Ukraine invasion)—all are in some sense political realists. We humans are fallible, full of foibles and vices (to put it mildly), and we’re bound by innumerable constraints. As biological entities, we are layered with eons of evolutionary developments; some of our behaviors and dispositions were laid down millions of years ago; and some of our thoughts and acts are as fleeting as yesterday’s fads. Whatever human nature consists of—however much we may want to deny it or ignore it—it always guides our behavior in some measure. We humans are both a part of Nature and apart from Nature. We can (and sometimes do) control our animal dispositions by the use of our Minds. The human mind, experienced collectively as a culture, has changed and evolved along with our bodies. In fact, in the past 10,000 years or more, our cultural evolution, our collective knowledge, and our shared traits, actions, and institutions have changed immensely more than any change (evolution) involving our bodies. Our collective consciousness, our sense of ourselves and our societies and the world in which we live, has also changed immensely over the course of the existence of Homo sapiens. It seems we humans exist in a challenge: can humanity achieve enough velocity to escape the gravity of its past? Can human culture, in its institutions, its families, friendships, societies, corporations, commonwealths, federations, and every other form of social organization, facilitate our overcoming the drag of millions of years of evolution and the constraints inherent in the human condition? (Arendt’s understanding of the “human condition”: we’re all born (natality), we all die (mortality), we are many (plurality), and we all share this earth and common needs and wants (equality).) Are we doomed by our nature and our condition to engage in a Promethean struggle that requires each generation to continue to attempt to plant the rock at the summit, only to have it crash back down? Or can the rock be raised but slowly, reaching certain plateaus that allow us to gain and retain a sense of accomplishment and genuine progress? (But always in danger of the plateau collapsing under the weight of a rock of progress.)

I’m perpetually torn between the realists who say we’re no different really than our ancient ancestors (save for our incredible powers—including destructive powers) and progressives (or evolutionists or developmentalists) who discern “progress” in the course of human history based upon changes in norms, institutions, beliefs, and actions, which raise us above our ancestors. My answer is the same as Zhou Enlai’s response to Kissinger’s question about the success of the French Revolution: “It’s too soon to tell.” But I do know that the human enterprise remains perilous and will undergo increasingly significant challenges within my expected lifetime and well beyond it.

Kaplan’s book is a reflection of a man who’s seen and considered at close hand our contemporary world and much of what came before it. The past, in its totality, creates the world in which we now live. History doesn’t teach “lessons;” it allows perspective. So with literature; literature doesn’t teach lessons, it fosters multiple perspectives and ways to comprehend and imagine our world that are unencumbered by the constraints of the known past that history requires. Kaplan uses both. We’d be wise to follow his lead.
For this review with all the links, go to https://sgreenleaf.substack.com/p/the...

[M.Mahdi · Rating 2 out of 5]

باسمه
🔰 ژئوپولتیک شاخه‌ای از علوم سیاسی هست که اهمیت جغرافیا در سیاست رو مد نظر قرار داده. جذابیت ژئوپولتیک در روزگار تغییرات قدرت جهانی باعث شد با نوشته‌های آقای «تیم مارشال» آشنا بشم که نشر «همان» کتاب‌هاشون رو به شکلی مناسب انتشار داده بود. با این حال، اصرار نشر بر این بوده که گرایش تحلیل بر پایه صرف جغرافیایی رو به خاطر شکلی از جبرگرایی که پیدا می‌کنه، تا حدی تعدیل کنن. پس عناوینی رو به چاپ رسوندن که بر نقش افراد هم تأکید داشته باشن. خود این اقدام که نشر همان حواسش هست داره چیکار می‌کنه به شدت قابل تقدیره 👌👌

🔰 طرح بحث این کتاب کم حجم چیه؟ ژئوپولتیک، شکلی از جبرگرایی داره؛ پس باید با مطالعه روابط انسانی عجینش کرد تا فهم صحیحی حاصل بشه. بهترین راه فهم احوال انسانی، مطالعه ادبیات هست و بهترین نوع ادبیات برای این کار، تراژدی. از بین تراژدی‌ها هم نگاهش به تراژدی یونانیه... حالا حرف حسابش چیه؟ ما برای اینکه دچار تراژدی نشیم، باید تراژیک فکر کنیم. چرا؟ ناپایداری خوشی + انتخاب‌های محدود + تلاش برای تحقیق نظم خوب = اوج معنای انسانی.

🔰 اما چرا با وجود همراهی با بعضی حرف‌ها و نکات، با این کتاب همدل نیستم؟ هدف نویسنده از تبیین تفکر تراژیک، اجتناب از جبرگرایی منتسب به ژئوپولتیک هست؛ اما ناخواسته به دام شکل دیگه‌ای از جبرگرایی افتاده که در اسطوره‌شناسی یونان باستان هست: ه‍یچ راه فراری از عاقبت طراحی‌شده توسط خدایان نیست. اونم اسطوره‌های یونانی... اسطوره‌هایی که ظلم و کارهای بی‌حکمتشون، مقدمه‌ای تلخ برای نفرت از آسمان و تبعاتش در آینده تمدن غربی بود... این کتاب علی‌رغم اسم و ادعاش، توجیه نامه‌ای هست برای جنگ‌های غربی‌ها در هر جای دنیا! خیلی عجیبه که از همچین تلاشی، همچین خروجی حاصل بشه که فقط نتیجه نگرفتن جنگ‌ها رو تقبیح کنه و نه نفس عمده اقدامات رو... بماند که نگاهش به صورت کامل غرب محور و آمریکا مدار هست و هر مثال بد و داغونش در مناطق دیگه اتفاق می‌افته...

🔰 علی‌رغم چاپ خوب از لحاظ فیزیکی، ترجمه کتاب خوب نیست. حجم مطالب تکراری کتاب و عدم پیوستگی معنایی فصل‌ها توی ذوق می‌زنن. بحث اصلی کتاب حول تراژدی‌های معروف می‌گرده؛ پس اگه آشنایی قبلی نداشته باشین، آن‌چنان که باید، امکان درک مباحث حاصل نمی‌شه... بماند که کلی هم داستان لو می‌ره 😂

✅ در نهایت، نظر شخصی خودم اینه که تفکر مطلوب نویسنده و اون چیزی که دوای درد این روزهای جهان می‌دونه - اما پیداش نکرده - در اخلاق الهی پیدا میشه... هم قضیه تکلیف و تقدیر حل میشه و هم رویکرد مثبت در زمین... چیزی که نویسنده سعی کرده قبول نکنه و چند بار اشاره می‌کنه این اعتقادی «شبیه دین» هست... خلاصه در مجموع هم توصیه نمی‌کنم که این کتاب رو بخونین...

[Alexandru · Rating 2 out of 5]

Probably Kaplan's weakest book. It's a series of meditations that draw parallels between ancient Greek and Shakespearean tragedies and modern (mostly American) events and leaders. For example, there is a parallel between Darius and Xerxes' failed invasions of Greece and Bush Sr and Bush Jr's invasions of Iraq.

[Seb5253 · Rating 2 out of 5]

As a proponent of right wing pro Iraq war policies as well as influencing decision makers into delaying actions in the Balkans (hastening and perhaps allowing for the furtherance of mass murder), there's something a little disingenuous about an author profiting from a book that to me, came across as an exercise in guilt driven self placation. liberally infused with allusions to classical Greek tragedy, politics, statesmanship ect it was moderately engaging and in it's defence - this was a well written and succinctly put work.... (that's the two stars) but its central thesis concerning ethics and morals had been deeply undermined from the outset when enthusiastically citing amongst other nefarious characters -Churchill ( an amoral self professed fantasist who'd been a supporter of eugenics and enabled the death of over two million Indians through starvation ... Ok rant over.) .
If the author wants to do some good by way of karmic balance or something I would suggest having the pods to maybe join an anti war march ..
Yes, I get it ethics can be malleable, tragedy and acceptance thereof are part of life ect but seriously - the stoics beat Mr Kaplan to the punch by over two thousand years with greater style and honesty.
As they say at my local chippy when ordering the special of the day : " Caviat emptor" !!

[Watz Van den Bergh · Rating 1 out of 5]

yap yap yap

Dacht dat dit boek over iets anders ging gaan.

Dit hele boek kan samengevat worden in 3 woorden: 'orde boven alles.'

En zelf daar ga ik niet eens mee akkoord

[Rodger Payne · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is an unusual book. It is brief and not all the ideas are clearly connected one to another. If examined too carefully, some of the lessons offered one chapter to the next might conflict with one another. At times, Kaplan seems to be offering life lessons far more than policy ideas or proposals.

Kaplan views himself as an international relations realist and realists have often discussed world politics in tragic terms. In this instance, Kaplan emphasizes how statesmen (his word) need to have a "tragic sensibility." The book goes about trying to explain what this entails. It's been a few years since I read it, but I believe Ned Lebow's book covered this ground (and much, much more). Kaplan's tragedy is not the same as the "tragedy of great power politics" explained by John Mearsheimer, who essentially argues that the structure of the international system assures tragic outcomes. Even states that do not have offensive intentions are forced to behave aggressively towards other states because that is how the system is structured.

For Kaplan, tragic choices involve selecting between two different policies that might have good outcomes, but are mutually exclusive, or even between policies that might both result in bad outcomes. He is talking about the thinking needed to make difficult choices, not the avoidance of evil or even awful outcomes. Sometimes, he argues, deciding to act in a manner that results in an awful outcome is nonetheless the right choice -- to avoid something even worse.

The book is barely over 100 pages in length, with some pages between chapters blank, and yet it has 14 chapters and an Epilogue. Many of these short chapters are devoted to explaining classic tragic works, with primary focus on a few prominent Greek writers -- and Shakespeare. He explains the differences in these fictional plots and characters and this drives most of his analysis. The book ends by arguing that those who want to understand international politics and make foreign policy would be better served studying these sorts of literary classics than social science methods.

The book seems to be motivated by Kaplan's personal experiences. He was a journalist covering the Balkans in the 1990s and Afghanistan and Iraq earlier this century. Regarding the latter, he supported action that he now regrets and his tragic sensibility often emphasizes the importance of restraint, empathy, and humility. He offers praise for George H.W. Bush for his restraint towards China post-Tiananmen, during the Persian Gulf war (for not toppling Saddam Hussein), and towards Russia when Eastern Europe was peeling away. Kaplan also warns against the application of erroneous historical analogies and says more than once that not every foreign policy problem resembles 1939 and not every threatening foreign leader is like Hitler. He does compare Putin to Shakespeare's evil Iago -- and Satan. He's also not fond of contemporary threats from disinformation, misrepresentation, and terrorism, but there's not much discussion of any particular kind of problem. He's interested in the kind of choices leaders throughout history have had to made when facing very difficult choices. Often, he asserts, there are very personal drivers and consequences for these leaders.

[Marnix Verplancke · Rating 5 out of 5]

Toen George Bush jr. in de nasleep van 9/11 het Amerikaanse leger naar Irak stuurde kon hij rekenen op de steun van heel wat Amerikaanse intellectuelen. Een van hen was schrijver en buitenlandcorrespondent Robert D. Kaplan. Die ging zelfs zo ver dat hij raadgever werd van Minister van Defensie Paul Wolfowitz. Hij was immers al vaak in Irak geweest en kende de terreur van het regime van Saddam Hoessein. Die kon maar beter verdwijnen, meende hij. Tot hij een paar jaar later terugkeerde naar Irak en zag in welke anarchie het land door de Amerikaanse interventie was beland, mede door zijn enthousiasme dus. Het leverde hem een depressie op die een paar jaar aansleepte, schrijft hij in zijn nieuwste boek De geopolitieke tragedie.
Kaplan, die de voorbije veertig jaar in talloze boeken verslag uitbracht over uitslaande branden in de Balkan, het Midden-Oosten, Afghanistan en Afrika, behoort tot de realpolitieke school. In het begin van zijn carrière benadrukte hij de invloed van de geografie op het verloop van de geschiedenis. Later besefte hij dat ook hoe de mens op die geografie inspeelt van doorslaggevend belang is. En dat kan dus maar beter wat bescheiden zijn. Grote woorden en ideeën leiden al te vaak tot nog grotere bloedbaden en tragedies.
En daarmee zijn we meteen bij het concept dat centraal staat in Kaplans nieuwste boek: de tragedie. In hoeverre kunnen we iets opsteken van de grote tragedieschrijvers, vraagt hij zich af en dan heeft hij het natuurlijk over de grote Grieken Aeschylus, Sophocles en Euripides, maar ook over William Shakespeare, Fyodor Dostojevski en Henry James. Wat zij tonen is dat de wereld geen plaats is waar je kunt kiezen tussen het goede en het kwade, maar wel tussen het kwade en het minder kwade. Er zijn geen makkelijke oplossingen. Die waren er niet voor Agamemnon die zijn dochter Iphigeneia moest offeren om zijn krijgskansen te keren, noch voor Antigone die haar broer wilde begraven en zo haar familiale plicht zag botsen met die voor de staat. En die waren er ook niet in Irak of Afghanistan. De goede leider aldus Kaplan is degene die leeft tussen angst en eerzucht en zich door geen van de twee laat verlammen.
Kaplan is zoals steeds bijzonder spits en erudiet, en hij betoont zich een meester in de suggestie. Zo heeft hij het ondermeer over Nixon en Kissinger die in volle koude oorlog toenadering zochten tot China om de geopolitieke spanningen te bedaren en over Bush sr., die in 1991, net voor het ineenstorten van de Sovjetunie, in een speech in Kiev waarschuwde voor de gevolgen van het “suïcidaal nationalisme”. De geopolitieke tragedie zou op het nachtkastje van iedere politicus moeten liggen.

[George Siehl · Rating 4 out of 5]

A new book by a favorite author is always a pleasant prospect. Robert D. Kaplan does not disappoint in "The Tragic Mind." He is an erudite writer who has read, understood, and felt his way through a varied library of sources. This book confirms his eminence as a thinker and as a scholar as he draws upon much of classical literature and scholarship on the role of the tragic in society from the time of the ancient Greeks, through Shakespeare, and into the modern world. Impressive as these accomplishments are, this reader found Kaplan's greatest impact in his drawing upon the lived experience of forty years of journalism. He covered numerous wars embedded with frontline troops and many additional years abroad in Greece, Eastern Europe, and elsewhere. His reportage from those experiences is the most electrifying writing in the book.

He writes, for instance, of dictator Ceausescu's Romania: "The long lines at dawn for stale bread in the freezing winter, the lines for fuel, the peasants bused from the countryside to demonstrate in his honor, the veritable slave labor camps in the snowy mud of eastern Wallachia, and the other monstrosities of its rule, all of which I witnessed during many visits to Romania in the last decade of the Cold War, triggered simmering hatred on the part of the population...People kept their heads bowed for decades in Romania, until they suddenly bared their teeth." All the reportage blends with the larger intellectual content of his thesis.

That thesis is intimated in his subtitle: "Fear, Fate, and the Burden of Power." For centuries Greeks watched the plays of Sophocles, Aristotle and, especially, Euripides. They learned that Fate was not always kind, and justice was often denied. Thus, Fear of unfavorable endings generated a sense of caution, avoidance in hope of survival. The problem, Kaplan explains, is that sometimes the decisions of leaders meant choosing among competing good choices, but still incurring pain.

By the time of Shakespeare, the introduction of Christianity and the appearance of conscience changed the decision making process. Nonetheless, those holding Power, the leaders and the bureaucrats, not numerous intervening gods, bore the responsibility for making the choices among attractive but competing ends.

The book is small, but the content is heavy. Kaplan writes, "This is all very bleak, I know." He shares his personal burden , and sense of guilt ,because his writing caused two consecutive U. S. Presidents to make decisions that caused thousands of deaths. His writings of the complexities of circumstances in the Balkans is said to have caused President Clinton to avoid acting early in that conflict. He first wrote in support of the war in Iraq, but President Bush's decision to overthrow the regime there was followed by much internal bloodshed. Winning the peace had not been achieved.

Short, heavy, and bleak; this is a book that should prove stimulating to many readers.

[Joel · Rating 5 out of 5]

This short book is one of Kaplan’s most personal. Kaplan has been a foreign correspondent and has written many books about the struggles of politics under the tyranny of geography in faraway places. Unlike most of his other works, “The Tragic Mind” is about himself. It is not an autobiography; instead mostly an essay about what Kaplan learned about human nature and world politics during his decades with a front row seat to humanity’s struggle.

Kaplan’s conclusion, the world is (and has always been) in a seismic struggle between two forces: order and chaos. Drawing deeply from the ancients, he identifies the Dionysiac and the Apolline. As soon as we recognize this, we must immediately begin to understand that the world really is one large Greek Tragedy. Not a catastrophe (we mis-diagnose what a tragedy is). A tragedy is the realization that the world is imperfect, that there are no heroes and villains, just people trying to do the best they can for the interests they are trying to preserve, and that Dionysus is waiting around every turn. Or to put it simply, to walk humbly because the “unknown unknowns” are many and every decision we make can unleash the chaos which might consume us.

“While civilization is the culmination of our struggle to realize our humanity and to rid ourselves of our propensity for violence and the iron grip of fate, we can only achieve this by never losing sight of our origins. But that is only possible by deliberately cultivating insecurity, whose broad basis is a respect for chaos: something impossible unless one thinks tragically.”

This book is about danger, the danger for the United States and the world as the wealthiest, most protected, most isolated generation that ever existed – who know no wars or no depressions or any real danger product of battle – saunter onto the world stage with only opinions and prejudices and without any sense of the tragic that their actions might evoke. I know exactly what Kaplan is talking about here; while he huddled in trenches as a correspondent, I spent more than 20 years in dangerous places running programs against Hugo Chavez and ISIS and Putin. I went out, early on, copy of Natan Sharansky’s “Case for Democracy” under my arm, convinced my struggle was “Freedom against Tyranny” AND I WAS THE GOOD GUY!! That didn’t last, as I came to understand that the danger was not a mismanaged election but the “Arriving Ordeal” as I saw it in West Africa, Kaplan’s Dionysus present everywhere and rapidly advancing.

The preservation of order – we in the US Government called it “Stabilization”.

Kaplan wrote about the coming anarchy in his books, and they touched a chord with me. Because, having been around the world and had my teams attacked by terrorists, people I knew killed or died, hunkered in place with my 3 year old while bullets flew – I know the fear Kaplan honestly talks about; I know what disorder looks like. I also wrote about it, mostly in novels where the main characters were somehow always the bad guys. Not anti-heroes, nor villains, but victims of the chaos and responding in the only way they were able. Because that is something that is also true, that Kaplan doesn’t talk too much about, but the chaos comes because options are so very limited for the poor in the world. We in the US see democracy as about choices – choices for everything: what I should wear or watch or play with, even now to the bizarre ‘hmm what gender am I today?’ (which itself is Dionysian in the most profound, Nietzschean sense).

At the end of Val Kilmer’s rendition of “Island of Dr. Moreau”, David Thewlis channels H.G. Wells, “…and those times I look around me at my fellow man and I am reminded of some likeness of the beast people, and I feel as though the animal is surging up in them, and they are neither wholly animal or wholly man but an unstable combination of both, as unstable as anything Moreau created, and I go in fear.”

[Blaine Welgraven · Rating 4 out of 5]

“History rarely repeats and usually doesn’t even rhyme, despite the line misattributed to Mark Twain.”

“Never before has thinking tragically—and husbanding fear without being immobilized by it—been more necessary.”

“Tragedy, on which all realism is based, is less a theory than a sensibility.”

“The Greeks found great value in learning how to fear chaos and thus avoid it. Fear warns of so many things. For there is much that we don’t know about what can befall us as a nation, and as individuals. Sophocles’ Oedipus the King teaches us that no man can be judged as fortunate until he is dead—since nothing is certain and therefore nothing can be taken for granted. The same is true of a nation. The wisest among us are full of fear, which is future oriented….Wise leaders are those who know they must think tragically in order to avoid tragedy.”

—The Tragic Mind, Robert D. Kaplan

[Sonia MM · Rating 4 out of 5]

Interesante reflexión de un analista geopolítico estadounidense sobre la mentalidad trágica, que permite entender y afrontar tanto la vida personal como los conflictos geopolíticos actuales. Para la construcción de una mentalidad trágica se basa en las obras clásicas trágicas, de Esquilo a Eurípides, entre otros y Shakespeare fundamentalmente. Se menciona otras obras de la literatura universal, mezclándolas con acontecimientos políticos e históricos y anécdotas del autor, testigo de grandes acontecimientos.

Ya sabemos que los clásicos se mantienen vigentes por su capacidad de identificación con los temas universales: el poder, la ambición, el orgullo, etc, pero según este analista los clásicos nos permiten entender la tragedia de la guerra, por ejemplo, sin tener que experimentarla de primera mano. Al vivir en sociedades donde la paz se da por supuesta, el fantasma de la guerra nos parece lejano y no somos capaces de entender toda su dimensión.

Es una obra recomendable, siempre teniendo en cuenta la perspectiva anglosajona y más concretamente estadounidense.

[Conor Sweetman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Simple, stunning & poignant. I think this is what many need to hear to prepare for the next 5-10 years.

[Brian Thorson · Rating 3 out of 5]

Kaplan provides some useful insights but I don’t have a great enough appreciation for ancient tragedies to enjoy this book.

[Kensauce Scholzieboii · Rating 4 out of 5]

Insightful and powerful read, but about as uplifting as a root canal...which should be no surprise based on the title.

[Erik Lamberts · Rating 1 out of 5]

It's all about the tragedy stories from ancient Greece and Shakespeare, and according to Goodreads it continues like this until the end. Not our thing, so I stopped on page 41.

[Ana-Maria · Rating 5 out of 5]

„Gândirea tragică. Frică, destin și povara puterii” de Robert D. Kaplan (2023)

Dacă ar fi să rezum felul în care am înțeles eu această carte, aș zice că este una de leadership și de self-help. Stați, nu fugiți, am glumit... și nu prea.

De ce spun de leadership? Pentru că, deși Robert Kaplan nu se adresează direct liderilor lumii sau politicienilor de rang mai mic, dar cu oarecare putere, pare că pentru ei scrie și că ne oferă tuturor un instrument care le poate servi drept busolă morală — gândirea tragică. Așa cum a mai scris și în alte locuri, Kaplan consideră că „Istoria este adesea rezultatul caracterului uman și al deciziilor politice crude, nu al unui proces moral progresiv”, ori tocmai de aceea înseamnă că cei care influențează istoria trebuie să își șlefuiască mereu caracterul.

Apoi, am afirmat că este o carte de self-help. Din nou, am glumit și nu prea, căci autorul se confesează: după ce a susținut cu înverșunare războiul din Irak, fiind oripilat de regimul lui Saddam, pe care îl observase direct în munca sa de teren, marele Kaplan observă — tot la firul ierbii — consecințele căderii regimului. Anarhia care a urmat, imposibilitatea de a impune democrația irakienilor, așa cum, cu naivitate, sperase, lipsa ordinii și suferința umană complet neanticipate, l-au dărâmat:
„Depresia clinică pe care am suferit-o timp de ani de zile, ca urmare a greșelii mele legate de războiul din Irak, m-a condus să scriu această carte. Am eșuat în testul meu de realist... Am contribuit la promovarea unui război în Irak care a dus la sute de mii de morți.”

Printre demersurile pe care le-a făcut pentru a-și reveni din această deziluzie profundă a fost și acela de a se reîntoarce la literatură — dar nu la orice fel de literatură, ci la tragediile antice. Kaplan citește și recitește Oedip, Antigona, Agamemnon, Hoeforele, Eumenidele și le regândește în cheia unei crize morale și existențiale proprii. Se întoarce la Omul revoltat al lui Camus și la Isaiah Berlin și reinterpretează criza morală și psihologică prin care trece prin lupa unor concepte care îi oferă mai multă claritate morală. Kaplan înțelege că:
„Tragic înseamnă să știi că orice decizie vei lua, cineva va suferi — și totuși să ai curajul să alegi.”

Cred că, poate, cel mai bun rezumat al acestei cărți este făcut de însuși Kaplan în subtitlul ales, căci ne atrage atenția asupra unor concepte-cheie prin care putem decoda gândirea tragică.

Primul este frica — căci un lider ar trebui să se teamă de consecințele deciziilor sale și să fie conștient, mai ales, de suferința colectivă. Tragediile grecești abundă de eroi posedați de hybris — mândria și încrederea în sine exagerate. Gândirea utopică și, mai ales, cea ideologică păcătuiesc prin hybris, ignorând complexitatea și suferința colectivă pe care o pot genera deciziile pripite. Așa a fost și în cazul invaziei din Irak, căci hybris-ul i-a făcut pe americani să creadă că pot schimba total destinul acestei țări, dându-i o direcție de democrație modernă.

Apoi, destinul este condiționarea istorică a unei națiuni. Așa cum ne place să credem că putem salva o persoană la care ținem sau că putem să o schimbăm dacă încercăm suficient de tare, la fel liderii pot să își imagineze că pot rezolva conflicte etnice care se desfășoară de secole sau că pot forța o națiune pe un drum sau către un destin.

Povara puterii este cel de-al treilea concept pe care îl enumeră în titlu — și tocmai aici rezidă esența tragediei, căci oricum ar acționa cel care are puterea, nu va putea să-și salveze complet conștiința. Luciditatea suferinței inevitabile prin care va trece cel ce ia decizia este o povară cu care va trebui să trăiască toată viața, și ea se deosebește de cinism sau de acceptarea indiferentă a consecințelor:
„Tragedia nu este fatalism sau disperare, ci înțelegere.”

Închei exprimându-mi admirația față de această carte atât de cathartică, un lung eseu care îți face poftă de citit tragedii grecești, de căutat Camus prin bibliotecă și de reexaminat evenimentele recente, prin prisma acestei gândiri tragice — cum ar fi deciziile diferiților lideri implicați în războiul din Ucraina în ultimii trei ani. Sper ca vocea lui Robert D. Kaplan să ajungă nu doar la cititori de ocazie ca mine, ci mai ales la cei ce poartă povara puterii.

[Errol Grimshaw · Rating 2 out of 5]

Robert Kaplan has had a long and well-received career as an author. However, it is time he puts the pen down and stops writing.

The Tragic Mind is a book for which he takes 70 pages to state the book's thesis clearly; the thesis itself (paraphrased) is "being a powerful world leader is harder than it looks, and it is not as black and grey as the media suggest."

The book idolizes the ancient Greeks, Shakespeare, and many other famous scholars and philosophers in a way that only an old white man can. The Insights of the renowned scholars Kaplan quotes in his book provide more insight into his cobbled-together argument than he ever has.

Kaplan bases his argument around "Tragedy" by the ancient Greek and Shakespearean definition that "the gods" will humble all who deserve it. He places this allegory upon world leaders in an attempt to define what a good leader should look like and that often, being a leader comes with making tough decisions, and leaders today are not making those tough decisions. Kaplan says that no man should die with a clear conscience because if he has, he has not made the tough decisions required of a good leader.
Kaplan is projecting he is an old man who is afraid he will die with a clear conscience.

I am so critical of Kaplan for three reasons. First, this man loves the sound of his voice; his pros are over the top and overly intellectual to conceal the lack of substance in his argument. Second, Kaplan idolizes the ancient Greeks and Shakespeare so much, yet he cheery picks examples from ancient Greek plays and myths to support his argument. Specifically, his cherry-picking of Diyonisus and how he was understood in the ancient world as an agent of chaos and anarchy (Which Kaplan is deeply scared of) he pulls from only one play. There is no investigation of the long and storied history of the god as a character and a figure worshiped by the Ancient Greeks and Romans (as Bacchus). Third, if we consider this book an extended essay, it would be a bad one; Kaplan doesn't engage with the other side of the argument he puts forward. Primarily because there is little substance within his argument to begin with and secondly because he has no interest in listening to anyone else's voice unless they are within the Pantheon of Idolized dead white men.

[Orest Dabija · Rating 5 out of 5]

Robert David Kaplan a scris mai multe bestselleruri dedicate geopoliticii și relațiilor internaționale, având o extraordinară experiență de corespondent de război și autor de eseuri pentru cele mai reputate publicații americane.

Gândirea tragică: Frică, destin și povara puterii este o carte ce ar fi bine să se regăsească printre lecturile obligatorii pentru șefii marilor state ale lumii, dar se poate citi cu la fel de multă plăcere, interes și folos și de către muritorii de rând.

Kaplan își începe relatarea cu debutul ca reporter străin în Grecia anilor ’80, experiență urmată de călătoriile sale în toată Europa de Est, Orientul Mijlociu și Africa. El a anticipat conflictele etnice cu potențial genocidar din Balcani, a simțit pe pielea proprie ce înseamnă dictatura lui Ceaușescu, regimul tiranic și criminal al lui Saddam Hussein sau războiul civil din Sierra Leone.

Paralelele cu filosofia clasicei tragedii grecești abundă la fiecare pas în cartea lui Kaplan, dar și referințele la mari clasici ai literaturii occidentale nu sunt uitate, mai ales că vechii greci nu își exprimau prea dezvoltat aspectele legate de moralitate și remușcare, povara fiind aruncată pe umerii zeilor.

Kaplan observă cum lipsa experienței de viață, mai ales la capitolul războaielor își face simțită prezența în prezent pornind de la scrierile academicienilor și până la cele mai importante decizii ale liderilor marilor state. Această ruptură de gândirea tragică se exprimă prin relații internaționale bazate de raționamente necumpătate, excesiv de optimiste și fără frica iminenței dezastrului. De asemenea, securitatea financiară și fizică a ultimelor generații occidentale și ordinea democratică pe care o considerăm ca un dat sunt factori ce ne orbesc în înțelegerea potențialelor catastrofe ce pasc umanitatea. Kaplan ne arată că ordinea era o veritabilă obsesie pentru oamenii din trecut, orice fel de ordine fiind preferabilă haosului anarhiei, pentru că „fără ordine nu există nimeni care să judece ce este bine și ce este rău, care să separe vinovații de nevinovați, așa că nu numai că nu există libertate, dar, după cum scria Hobbes, nu există nici justiție”.

Astfel, autorul ne arată că cele mai stabile și civilizate regimuri din lumea arabă sunt monarhiile tradiționale, exportul democrației occidentale fie el prin cultură, fie prin forța armelor negăsind în Orientul Mijlociu un tărâm fertil pentru manifestare, fapt de înțeles chiar și prin compararea secolelor care au fost necesare marilor democrații din Occident pentru a ajunge la elemente ce ne par astăzi firești ca dreptul de vot sau condamnarea torturii. „Răsturnarea unei dictaturi sufocante din Orientul Mijlociu nu este în sine un act moral decât dacă este elaborat un plan pentru ceva mai bun”.

Umilința recunoașterii limitelor propriei condiții este esențială pentru un decident politic, mai ales când factori pe care nu îi poate controla pot periclita și cele mai atent construite planuri și strategii. Kaplan își exprimă propriile regrete legate de susținerea inițială a Războiului din Irak, răsturnarea lui Saddam Hussein aruncând țara într-o situație de anarhie mult mai periculoasă și ucigașă decât ordinea anterioară tiranică și criminală, dar cel puțin predictibilă. Autorul mai regretă și că intervenția militară americană din Balcani ar fi putut fi tergiversată din cauza influentei sale cărți Fantomele Balcanilor.

Eșecul pe termen lung al intervenției americane în Afganistan și Irak, sutele de mii de vieți distruse, trilioanele cheltuite, sunt lecții dure pentru lipsa gândirii tragice ale liderilor din acest secol al celui mai puternic stat din lume. Kaplan face o fascinantă paralelă între cei doi președinți americani Bush (tată și fiu) și intervențiile militare inițiate de ei în Irak și experiența de acum două milenii și jumătate a perșilor contra grecilor prin Darius (tatăl) și Xerxes (fiul), totul prin prisma anticei tragedii a lui Eschil - Perșii.

Eschil, Sofocle, Euripide dar și inegalabilul Shakespeare sunt pilonii de bază ai cărții, citatele din tragediile acestora fiind țesute în metafore perfect aplicabile actului politic în particular și dramatismului violenței existenței umane în general.

Kaplan ne aduce mereu aminte de greutatea coroanei și de povara ce apasă pe umerii celui ce o poartă, decidentul politic neavând nici libertatea intelectualului, artistului sau jurnalistului de a se detașa de factorii incomozi și de apăra mereu adevărul și cauzele nobile, nici posibilitatea de a spune mereu lucrurilor pe nume.

Marile tragedii ale puterii nu sunt cele legate de crimele odioase împotriva umanității, respectivele acte fiind condamnabile și vizibile lejer ca eminamente rele. Marile tragedii sunt cele ca ale grecilor antici – alegerea între un bine și un alt bine, sau între un rău și o alternativă și mai rea, între interesul superior dar adeseori îngust al propriei națiuni și interesul superior dar îndepărtat al umanității.

„Adevărurile pe care jurnaliștii (sau intelectualii sau artiștii) le spun cu voce tare nu sunt doar adevărurile pe care cei aflați la putere le ascund, ci adesea adevărurile de care cei puternici sunt foarte conștienți, dar despre care nu pot face sau spune nimic public, de teamă să nu înrăutățească și mai mult situația”. – p. 100

„Nu am învățat niciodată ceea ce grecii antici știau: nu toate lucrurile pot fi reparate, așa că trebuie să acceptăm o mare parte din lume așa cum este”. – p. 118

„Deciziile cruciale sunt, prin natura lor, la limită și deseori trebuie ales un bine în detrimentul altuia – sau un rău în detrimentul altuia”. – p. 122

„Dreptatea absolută, oricât de satisfăcătoare ar fi din punct de vedere moral, poate fi dușmanul unei guvernări înțelepte”. – p. 127

„Pentru că frica și rușinea stau la baza ordinii și, prin urmare, a civilizației înseși, oamenii, cu excepția celor profund răi, sunt plini de remușcări”. – p. 130

„Istoria ne îndeamnă la prudență. Ceea ce înseamnă că actul conducerii și luarea deciziilor țin de caracter”. – p. 133

„Pasiunea este ușoară atunci când cei care sunt mistuiți de ea – de exemplu, jurnaliștii – nu poartă povara responsabilității birocratice”. – p. 71

„Paradoxul puterii este să fii la conducere, dar să nu fii pe deplin în control”. – p. 73

„Corectul balans între curaj și frică duce la rezultate optime în domeniul guvernării”. – p. 88

[Jonny · Rating 5 out of 5]

“History teaches prudence…

… Never before has thinking tragically - and husbanding fear without being immobilized by it - been more necessary. Passion should not be allowed to distort analysis, even as social media does exactly that.”

This is a tight series of essays, compiled as chapters, that layer a clear conclusion which should resonate with anyone who has lived geopolitics on the ground, rather than in a classroom: that our ambitions should be balanced with a tragic sensibility.

One of the more profound books I’ve read in recent years.

[Dario Andrade · Rating 5 out of 5]

O Kaplan é um jornalista bastante conhecido e influente. Tem talvez mais de uma dúzia de livros. A maioria trata de política internacional. Acho que esse é o primeiro livro que li dele. Foi recomendação de um amigo.
De certa maneira, é um balanço de vida. Nascido em 1952, viajou o mundo e morou em vários países. Seguramente ele conhece a realidade internacional ao ponto de ser ouvido por tomadores de decisão.
O ponto de partida do livro é o arrependimento dele em razão do apoio dado às invasões do Iraque e do Afeganistão. Em primeiro lugar, ele se dá conta que alguns projetos americanos são impraticáveis. Democracia ou liberdade são conceitos alienígenas para muita gente, caso das sociedades tribais existentes em boa parte do planeta, mas em especial no Oriente Médio, um dos focos principais das intervenções americanos nas últimas décadas. Essas ideias – democracia, liberdade – por mais valiosas que sejam para as sociedades ocidentais, ao serem impostas de fora nessas sociedades tribais produzem o contrário de si próprias.
Ele observa que existe uma tensão entre ordem e caos. As pessoas precisam de ordem em suas vidas, mas existe uma necessidade do irracional na vida das pessoas. Que seja o apolíneo versus o dionisíaco. As duas coisas estão em tensão, mas também em equilíbrio – precário – mas sempre equilíbrio.
O caos, porém, não subsiste por muito tempo. Existe uma tendência a que se volte sempre à ordem, mesmo que seja uma ordem opressiva. A coisa funciona mais ou menos como um elástico. A realidade pode ser esticada, mas ela tende a voltar a situação de origem.
Porém, no meio do caminho entre uma ordem e outra se produz muita confusão – em geral muita luz e pouca energia – e a nova ordem não será necessariamente melhor que a anterior. Não faltam exemplos: as revoluções socialistas do século XX, a começar pela Rússia; o fim da União Soviética; a revolução que derrubou o xá, no Irã; a primavera árabe e por aí vai.
Essa percepção, segundo ele, só pode ser alcançada por meio da experiência e por meio da leitura dos clássicos. Talvez ambos faltem às novas gerações.
A ordem, além disso, por mais sólida que seja, é essencialmente frágil e as nossas ações não produzem necessariamente aquilo que se quer. Segundo ele, é isso que a política externa americana não entende na maior parte dos casos. É húbris, no sentido de desafio irrefletido do destino, da vontade dos deuses, mas é, também, entender que o mundo não necessariamente faz sentido, que a vontade dos deuses escapa à nossa compreensão. Tudo pode mudar súbita e independentemente da nossa vontade. Isso vale para a nossa vida individual e para a vida das nações.
Por isso, não compreender que podemos perder tudo ou que as nossas ações – por mais bem intencionadas que sejam – podem ter resultados ruins, é o caminho para a ruína – individual ou coletiva.
Assim, todo cuidado é pouco. O excesso de autoconfiança e otimismo, típico da política externa americana, são na verdade, receitas para desastres no Vietnã, Afeganistão, Iraque e tantos outros lugares. A cautela e a preocupação com as consequências são menos estimulantes, mas produzem melhores resultados. Um empate na Coreia foi melhor do que a continuidade da guerra, por exemplo.
Mesmo que não seja o objetivo dele – nem imagino que ele pudesse estar a pensar nisso – serve também para nos advertir dos gurus que teimam em querer nos oferecer soluções populistas em matéria política ou econômica. Os repetidos naufrágios do Brasil nos mostram o quanto pessoas despreparadas – sem experiência de vida ou intelectual – se arriscam a nos oferecer soluções fáceis e erradas. O governo Dilma talvez seja o exemplo mais recente. Se os americanos erram repetidamente em matéria de política externa, o Brasil se sai igualmente mal em matéria de condução dos assuntos internos.
O livro se baseia no uso de metáforas. Os clássicos – particularmente os gregos, mas também Shakespeare e alguns outros – são fontes ricas para oferecer exemplos. Talvez o leitor mais exigente gostaria de ter mais exemplos reais, mas gostei do uso da literatura e do teatro.
Enfim, uma leitura bastante instigante a respeito da nossa fragilidade existencial e da qual raramente nos damos conta e de como a prudência e a cautela são meios para mitigar – mas não para eliminar de todo – os percalços que temos na vida. Só se pode medir – como sugere o Édipo de Sófocles – se um homem foi feliz ou não quando ele termina a jornada da vida.


P.S.: a editora poderia ter uma versão kindle.

[David · Rating 4 out of 5]

Some of this book seems like Kaplan’s atonement for his journalistic support of the failed US intervention in Iraq, and an explanation for other such intervention failures in history. Tangentially, it also conveys similar lessons of tragic outcomes taught through Greek mythology and Shakespearian literature.

Past foreign policy leaders and advisors have often been blindsided by what they assume will be a logical triumph of their “good” over their adversary’s “evil”. Similarly, many of us are blindsided by our own hubris and by the assumption that our orderly life will continue indefinitely with physical and financial stability. We take this order for granted and neglect to think tragically. For the ancient Greeks, wise leaders were those who knew that they must think tragically in order to avoid tragedy. For them, greatness of character became most apparent in times of disaster rather than triumph. Subsequently, many of their heroic ideals emerged in tragedy. Their stories became complete only when the tragic hero comprehended his insignificance, and he became wise only when finally aware of his incomplete knowledge.

What is initially unsavory about Kaplan’s message is the apparent suggestion that we should acquiesce to the injustices of the world and simply accept untenable conditions as they are, abandoning our humanitarian inclinations: “…all things cannot be fixed. So, we have to accept much of the world just as it is.”

But he goes on to resolve this, offering that we can be both deeply humane and deeply realistic. He notes that simply choosing good over evil is often too easy and may fail to recognize that morally defensible goals sometimes inspire actions that end up in tragic results. The art of the tragic mind is striking a balance between bravely trying to fix the world and knowing when the struggle may be futile.

For Kaplan, like the Greeks, the hero is a unique individual who, through tragedy, is set apart from others by suffering, but who in the end sees his or her life as part of a larger design. And like Shakespeare (in Hamlet), the same:

Our wills and fates do so contrary run
That our devices still are overthrown.
Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.

[Barrioviajero · Rating 5 out of 5]

En “La mentalidad trágica” vemos a un Kaplan diferente, más filósofo que analista geopolítico, fruto de su madurez y su mirada del pasado. A través de las tragedias griegas y Shakespeare, Robert D. Kaplan se propone desgranar la política internacional y la toma de decisiones de las grandes potencias.

Según él, solamente la gran literatura -y en este libro concreto, la literatura trágica- nos puede ayudar a entender el pasado, el presente y el futuro, a entender qué ocurre en el mundo. El ensayo, el análisis, los datos, todo esto se queda corto cuando tenemos que explicar las pasiones humanas. Y todo ese lado irracional de la civilización se comprende a través de la tragedia, la lucha del orden frente a la anarquía que tanto temían los griegos.

La tragedia -o la mentalidad trágica- es bastante difícil de definir. Está relacionado con los héroes, con la lucha contra el destino, con el autoconocimiento, con los designios de los dioses, con la comprensión, con la sapiencia de la vejez, con el temperamento sosegado, con la humildad, con la compasión, con la lucha contra Dionisio, con el orden. Con todo esto y mucho más.

Kaplan analiza, capítulo por capítulo, las obras de Eurípides, Sófocles, Shakespeare, con el apoyo de Camus, Dostoievski, Conrad, Goethe, entre otros. Los grandes de la literatura.

Su libro pretende ser optimista, un antídoto contra el caos. Su arrepentimiento y sentimiento de culpa aparecen constantemente, por lo que el libro se convierte en una especie de autobiografía moral. Su autocrítica por apoyar la guerra de Irak y Afganistán se repiten a modo de perdón, a modo de consejo a los jóvenes, a los imprudentes, a los intelectuales que analizan desde su despacho sin haber visto la guerra, a los decisores impulsivos.

Según Kaplan, el orden lo es todo y la mentalidad trágica es la lucha del bien contra el bien: mejor un tirano que un vacío de poder, mejor un tirano que una guerra. ¿Se puede criticar al imperio estadounidense después de haber apoyado invasiones que han empeorado la situación de esos países? Sí, a través de la tragedia y de la culpa.

[Mohammad Ahsan · Rating 4 out of 5]

The book “The Tragic Mind” covers some of the recent wars and conflicts (Iraq, Afghanistan, Ukraine) in the historical context using numerous references to Greek and English literature. Mr. Kaplan has built a strong narrative to explore the meaning of tragedy. The book while about history and politics, leans more towards philosophy. His key message is that a leader in a powerful position needs to “think tragically” while weighing the consequence of his actions. Such actions, even when carried out with good intentions can lead to terrible outcomes. The book extensively refers to western literature to explain the concept of “thinking tragically” – it does not mean to be cynical or pessimistic, but to think forward to identify the scope and scale of outcomes while being realistic about one’s own limits. He has given the example of 2nd Iraq war in 2003 that was triggered with the objective to remove Saddam Hussein from power and restore “democracy” in Iraq. While the US and allied forces successfully achieved their objective, the outcome was complete chaos and led to a decade long bloody civil war. Junior Bush was not thinking tragically when he decided on the invasion, unlike his father, who thought “tragically” and restricted the first Gulf War to liberate Kuwait. The book has quoted repeatedly the works of world’s greatest tragic writers, such as Sophocles, Euripides and Shakespeare, and the importance of their writing to grasp the tragic dimension of human lives.

Mr. Kaplan mentions that Greeks feared found chaos and, avoided it at all costs. He believes the wisest amongst us is the one who is full of fear and future-oriented – thinks tragically. This is critical for those who are in leadership position and whose decisions can cause war and peace. In his view, Vladimir Putin did not think tragically when ordering the invasion of Ukraine in 2022. The book is a bit heavy read due to multiple references to ancient Greek literature and Shakespeare’s works, but is definitely worth one’s time. Given the recent developments, especially in Syria, I recommend this book to everyone with keen interest in politics, leadership and decision making.

[mariuszowelektury · Rating 3 out of 5]

Robert D. Kaplan w swojej książce łączy doświadczenie reportera wojennego z fascynacją klasyczną literaturą, by zgłębić istotę współczesnej geopolityki. Greccy tragicy, Szekspir, Dostojewski, Camus, Nietzsche, Conrad służą mu za punkt wyjścia do pokazania natury życia człowieka, uwikłanej w apollińskość i dionizyjskość.

Z jednej strony staje się to powodem do dążenia w stronę porządku, ładu, a z drugiej przejawia skłonnością do destrukcji. Autor ukazuje, jak dramatyczne decyzje polityczne wynikają z uniwersalnych dylematów moralnych i konfliktów, które często nie sprowadzają się do prostego wyboru między dobrem a złem, lecz między różnymi formami dobra. Wskazuje również na pychę elit zachodnich przekonanych o tym, że demokracja jest ustrojem pasującym do każdej szerokości i długości geograficznej; czy przekonanie, że bogacenie się społeczeństwa musi iść w parze z rozwojem demokracji.

Ten esej historyczno literacki, filozoficzny pozornie jest tylko o współczesności, tym bardziej, że często przez kilka akapitów brak jakichkolwiek odniesień do niej. Przypomina mi “O tyranii. Dwadzieścia lekcji z dwudziestego wieku” Snydera, który również wchodzi na duży poziom uniwersalizmu, chcąc pokazać pewne tendencje, podstawy myślenia politycznego wolne od kolejnych wyborów, zmian pokoleniowych. Innymi słowy ponadczasowe i ponadnarodowe.

To lektura wymagająca, dla czytelników zainteresowanych złożonością władzy, historią i ludzką naturą. Kaplan oferuje nie tylko refleksję nad geopolityką, ale także głębsze zrozumienie tragizmu, który uważa za szansę a nie zagrożenie, chociażby dlatego, że rodzi refleksję, pokorę.

[Jim Marrone · Rating 5 out of 5]

"Tragedy teaches that no one should die with a clear conscience" (p. 84)

I hesitated to read this because I thought it was just another author wanting to show how smart they are by drawing parallels between today and the Peloponnesian War. But it is quite short so I figured it wouldn't waste too much time in any case.

I'm glad I gave it a try. This is the type of book I love most: ruminations from a person of learning and experience, stitching together disparate topics in new and insightful ways. Indeed, these are ruminations - not answers, not a concrete once-and-for-all lesson. And as a rumination, the writing is not always organized and some paragraphs feel like gratuitous or out of place.

Still, this book is succinct and the ratio of quoteworthy nuggets to other text is very high. The book has been marketed as a foreign policy book, but it could also be marketed as literary criticism, right up there with Harold Bloom and others who are quoted regularly throughout.

Indeed, I felt that I learned just as much about how to interpret the classics as I did about how to judge foreign policy. Although not strictly a prerequisite, it would help to have read or at least have a working knowledge of Greek tragedies and Shakespeare (though the author summarizes plots when relevant). If you appreciate those texts and other art as such, all the better. Because that's where the book shines most: by helping us see how art as art, and not as history texts, can make us better humans and make humanity better even across spans of two thousand years.

[Liquidlasagna · Rating 1 out of 5]

I hate tiny little essays

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the wild Amazone

A Disapointment

Having purchased and read a number of Kaplan books, I looked forward to this one despite the Wall Street Journal review which disparaged it.

It could have been a good magazine article. Instead it's bloated and almost unreadable. The point he makes is a good one, but is almost lost in the countless references to Greek playrights and Shakespeare. Read it if you must; don't buy it.

V. Timothy Bambrick

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The Tragic Book
I have enjoyed the many books I have read by Robert Kaplan. This was not one of them. It is short and not one of his best works.

BobBob

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Disappointment
I have read almost all of Robert Kaplan's work. His perspective on the significance of geography in determining the flow of geopolitical tensions provides unique insight into the sweep of history and to the understanding of current affairs.

In The Tragic Mind, however, he abandons geography and substitutes tragedy as a focus for understanding effective geopolitical strategy. The book is replete with scholarship and literary references, but, alas, short on the insight I have come to expect from his work.

STJ

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Why a tragic mindset is beneficial
Good perspective on why politicians make crucial mistakes. Author a little too repetitive in making his points.
Ralph Monroe

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[Dan Downing · Rating 5 out of 5]

Those unfamiliar with Mr. Kaplan's work might wonder where he gets off writing about the burden of power or world politics. The easy way to answer might be to read the blurbs on the book jacket. Another path might be Wikipedia. Or to open the book and read the list of his published work.
Whatever path one chooses, the end result is to know this man has lived the life of a soldier, a journalist, a professor and a scholar.
In this outing, he rakes over the history of Western Civilization, largely jumping from classical Greece to Shakespeare to more modern times, touching on Melville, Harold Bloom, Miguel de Unamuno, Camus, Bowra, Tolstoy and others. Drawing upon the plots and lessons of the Greek tragedies and Shakespearean plays, Mr. Kaplan argues that a mind oriented toward the tragic, bolstered with a sense of fear, recognition of fate, and the realities of wielding power would be best suited to meeting the problems and crises which will beset our world in the near and intermediate future. Not a holier-than-thou preacher, he explains he undertook this task in response to his aching conscience. He has erred, believes he has contributed to faulty policymaking, and regrets his confusion. This, then, is the thoughtful response to errant fate written by someone who has thought long and deeply about global geopolitical realities.
Highly Recommended.