O que é este blog?

Este blog trata basicamente de ideias, se possível inteligentes, para pessoas inteligentes. Ele também se ocupa de ideias aplicadas à política, em especial à política econômica. Ele constitui uma tentativa de manter um pensamento crítico e independente sobre livros, sobre questões culturais em geral, focando numa discussão bem informada sobre temas de relações internacionais e de política externa do Brasil. Para meus livros e ensaios ver o website: www.pralmeida.org. Para a maior parte de meus textos, ver minha página na plataforma Academia.edu, link: https://itamaraty.academia.edu/PauloRobertodeAlmeida;

Meu Twitter: https://twitter.com/PauloAlmeida53

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/paulobooks

quinta-feira, 19 de abril de 2018

The New Cold War is Boiling Over Syria - Dimitri Trenin

The New Cold War is Boiling Over Syria
Dmitri Trenin
Director
Moscow Center
António Guterres, the secretary-general of the United Nations, recently said the Cold War was back with a vengeance but also with a difference. This is correct but belatedly so. The new confrontation between Russia and the United States started already in 2014 and has been intensifying ever since, culminating in Friday evening’s U.S.-led strikes on Syria, which the Trump administration blamed on the Syrian government and its Russian allies and vowed to sustain indefinitely, if it deemed necessary. Russian President Vladimir Putin responded, in turn, that the attacks were an “act of aggression” that would “have a destructive effect on the entire system of international relations.”
The new confrontation between Russia and the United States has thus reached its first “missile crisis” moment. The way it is handled — whether it produces a direct military collision between the armed forces of the United States and Russia — will matter gravely for the entire world.
The original Cold War was very different from today’s confrontation between Washington and Moscow. There is no longer symmetry, balance, or respect between the parties. There is also no heightened fear of a nuclear Armageddon, which has the paradoxical effect of making it far easier to slide beyond the point of no return.
Taking on Russia, for many in the West, has become a continuation of the war on terror, with Putin cast in the role of Saddam Hussein. Thus, unlike the Soviet Union, Russia is dealt with as a rogue state. In this very unequal contest, the United States has essentially excluded the possibility of a strategic compromise with its unworthy adversary: For U.S. leaders, to compromise with Russia means to compromise oneself. This raises the stakes for the Kremlin to the absolute maximum.
Professional military and national security officials in the United States probably realize the dangers of the situation far better than politicians and public opinion leaders. In Syria, deconfliction between U.S. and Russian military forces has worked rather successfully. The chief of the Russian General Staff has had regular contacts, including face-to-face meetings, with the chairman of the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff, the secretary of defense, and is about to meet with NATO’s supreme allied commander in Europe. At the beginning of the year, the heads of Russia’s principal intelligence agencies — the Federal Security Service, the Foreign Intelligence Service, and the Main Intelligence Directorate — made an unprecedented joint visit to the United States.
In the atmosphere of rampant hysteria and bluster, these channels of communication look much more solid than the famous back channel in Washington between Robert Kennedy and a Russian intelligence operative that served to relay messages between John F. Kennedy and Nikita Khrushchev. Yet, unlike in the original Cold War, which was mostly a war by proxy, the new confrontation is a more direct engagement. In the fields of information, economics and finance, politics, and the cyberdomain, the U.S.-Russian fight is already direct. In the military sphere, Russia and the United States are for the first time since World War II fighting in the same country, but now their goals and strategies are vastly different, if not opposed to each other. The military leaders on both sides can do much to avoid incidents, but making policy is above their pay grade.
What has just played out is the least bad scenario: a series of U.S. and allied strikes that are largely symbolic, targeting some Syrian military facilities but sparing the main command and control centers and avoiding any potential Russian targets — not just Russian bases or forces but the Russian personnel and civilians who are widely spread throughout the Syrian military and government infrastructure. Such an attack would send the Russian-Western relationship to a new low point and lead to even more recrimination, sanctions, and countersanctions, but it would not endanger peace.
The worst scenario, by contrast, would do precisely that. Many people may have missed the warning by Gen. Valery Gerasimov, the chief of the Russian General Staff, who, a few weeks before the alleged chemical attack in Douma, painted exactly the scenario of a staged chemical attack in the then-rebel-held enclave, which in his scenario would have served as a pretext for massive U.S. strikes against the Syrian leadership in Damascus. Should Russians be targeted in such an attack, Gerasimov said, the Russian military in the region would respond by intercepting the incoming missiles and firing at the platforms from which they were launched.
Some commentators have since dismissed these warnings as bluff. They point to Russia’s clear inferiority in advanced conventional weapons in comparison with the United States. Should the Russians try to implement what Gerasimov has outlined, the argument goes, their entire military contingent in Syria would be wiped out in minutes, and Moscow would have to accept a humiliating defeat, which might as well be the end of its ill-conceived challenge to America’s dominant might. Perhaps. But there is a chance that the regional conflict may not stop there and instead escalate to a wholly different level.
Even if the current standoff in Syria does not lead to the worst-case scenario becoming a reality, the U.S.-Russian situation will remain not only dire but essentially hopeless for the indefinite future. America’s approach toward Russia will likely consist of a methodical mounting of pressure on it in multiple domains — in anticipation that, at some point, the pressure will become unbearable for Moscow. The Kremlin, for its part, is adamant that it will not surrender, knowing that the adversary will be merciless even after its victory.
The outcome, for now, is wide open. What’s clear is that periodic tests of will and resolve will continue to lead to international crises, whether in Syria, Ukraine, or elsewhere. Policymakers need to learn from their military subordinates: They should keep their heads cool and think of the consequences of their actions, both intended and unintended. Allowing the new U.S.-Russian global confrontation to run its course is much preferable to a sudden head-on crash.
More from this author... 

George Kennan and China containment

La Nación, Buenos Aires -19.4.2018
The National Interest, Washington DC – 18.4.2018
Containment and China: What Would Kennan Do?
Paul Heer

George F. Kennan did not consider his original concept of containment to be applicable to China. But if the legendary Soviet expert were alive today, he might well endorse a strategy aimed at limiting Chinese influence in East Asia relative to that of the United States—which is what Chinese leaders today call “containment.”
In Kennan’s formulation of his doctrine, containment was aimed exclusively at preventing the expansion of Soviet communist influence or control over areas that were strategically vital to the United States. During the period that he had official responsibility for implementing that strategy—as director of the State Department’s Policy Planning Staff from 1947 until 1950—he explicitly excluded China from it because he doubted that the Chinese communists would fall under Soviet control and, even if they did, China in his view was neither strategically important nor a potential threat to the United States. Indeed, Kennan excluded the entire mainland of East Asia—including the Korean Peninsula and Indochina (later Vietnam)—on the same grounds. In the early years of the Cold War he was prepared to accept Soviet domination of continental East Asia—if it came—as something that would be unfortunate but tolerable. Accordingly, he played a key role in justifying U.S. disengagement from the Chinese civil war, favored withdrawal of U.S. occupation forces from South Korea, and warned against supporting or inheriting the French role in Indochina.
The only place in the Far East where Kennan deemed containment applicable was Japan, which he considered both vital to U.S. interests and vulnerable to Soviet influence—in effect, the East Asian counterpart to Germany in Europe. He consequently played a pivotal role in redirecting U.S. occupation policy in Japan away from a punitive approach and toward reconstruction, akin to the Marshall Plan in Europe and for the same purpose: to insulate it against any Soviet designs. As Kennan wrote in 1948, Washington needed to “devise policies with respect to Japan which assure the security of those islands from Communist penetration and domination as well as from Soviet military attack, and which will permit the economic potential of that country to become again an important force in the Far East, responsive to the interests of peace and stability in the Pacific area.”
Kennan, in fact, was arguably the first proponent of the “defensive perimeter” concept, which became the de facto basis for U.S. strategy in the western Pacific before the Korean War.
The outbreak of the Korean War, however, subsequently undermined Kennan’s strategic vision for a peripheral application of containment in East Asia. It led to a long-term U.S. military commitment on the Korean Peninsula, provided the rationale for both the retention of U.S. military bases in Japan (which he had advised against) and U.S. aid to the French in Indochina, and essentially reinserted the United States into the Chinese civil war through a defense commitment to Taiwan. All of this eclipsed Kennan’s plan for only an offshore and non-military version of containment in the region.
The Sino-Soviet split that developed over the next decade validated both his prediction that the Soviets would not control the mainland of East Asia, and his rationale for not applying his doctrine of containment there. He wrote in 1967 that the Sino-Soviet rift was “the greatest single measure of containment that could be conceived. It not only invalidated the original concept of containment, it disposed in large measure of the very problem to which it was addressed”—that of counterbalancing the international influence of Soviet communism.
But what of the threat of Chinese communism itself? Kennan originally dismissed it on the grounds that under any government Beijing would never have the capacity to project power in ways seriously inimical to U.S. interests. In a speech in 1966, he noted that he had originally identified five strategic power centers in the world where containment applied: the United States, the United Kingdom, continental Europe, Japan and Russia itself. “Please note,” he observed, “that China did not enter into this category. I personally do not consider that it enters into it today.” Containment was about keeping the other power centers outside Soviet control. China was beyond that scope, even though it was under communist control, because it was not under Soviet communist control, and in any event was not in Kennan’s view a strategic power center. Consequently, although he deemed a communist China undesirable and regrettable, it was “not an intolerable threat, in itself, to world peace, and does not represent anything we cannot live with for a good long time.” Kennan acknowledged the implicit threat of Chinese communist expansion elsewhere in Asia, but he concluded that this appeared to be possible only in areas that were neither strategically important to the United States nor capable of posing a substantial military threat if they fell under Chinese communist control. These circumstances, in Kennan’s view, further negated the applicability of his containment doctrine to Chinese communism. And he never accepted its applicability to Vietnam. Indeed, he became an eloquent and influential critic of the American war there.
Kennan reaffirmed this view in the 1970s, reiterating that containment did not have “any great relevance” to China because it was not a “highly expansive power” except with regard to its prior territorial claims (especially Taiwan) and did not appear to be trying to impose “direct Chinese domination” over neighboring countries. Again, he specifically excluded Southeast Asia on the grounds that Chinese communist control there would do “no irreparable damage, from the standpoint of our interests,” and because he calculated that any Southeast Asian communist regime would more likely play Moscow and Beijing off against each other than be a puppet of either.
IN MY view, Kennan’s dismissal of China’s strategic potential, not to mention the strategic relevance of both Southeast Asia and the Korean Peninsula, was uncharacteristically shortsighted. It also belied his own judgment about the implications of the Sino-Soviet split, which greatly enhanced China’s strategic value to the United States in ways he recognized and acknowledged.
But more fundamentally, Kennan also recognized that communist China did not—and does not—represent the kind of threat the Soviet Union posed during most of the Cold War, and which had provided the basis for his containment doctrine. In the July 1947 “X” article in Foreign Affairs (“The Sources of Soviet Conduct”) in which he introduced his doctrine, Kennan specified that Soviet ideology was founded on the “basic antagonism between the capitalist and socialist worlds” and had taught Soviet leaders “that it was their duty eventually to overthrow the political forces beyond their borders” and that there could “never be on Moscow’s side any sincere assumption of a community of aims between the Soviet Union and powers which are regarded as capitalism.” Chinese communist leaders never fully subscribed to this outlook, to such a zero-sum goal, or to the need to impose “direct Chinese domination” beyond China’s borders. Moreover, they have moved beyond any belief in a fundamental antagonism between capitalism and socialism: their “socialism with Chinese characteristics” is essentially a merger with capitalism. And Xi Jinping’s promotion of that developmental model at the Chinese Communist Party’s Nineteenth Congress in October 2017—contrary to prevailing misinterpretations—is not aimed at supplanting capitalism with world socialism. Instead, Beijing is genuinely pursuing a “community of aims” with Western powers—also contrary to conventional wisdom. Kennan did not wholly anticipate this, but he no doubt would appreciate the differences between China today and the Soviet Union—and especially acknowledge that China does not meet his description of the Soviet Union in the “X” article as lacking “real evidences of material power and prosperity” to back up its external ambitions. For these reasons, he would recognize that China does not merit a containment strategy as he originally conceived it, nor could any such strategy succeed against China.
Paradoxically, however, Kennan came to advocate elements of an approach to China which arguably were not substantially different from many of the policies he formulated toward the Soviet Union. In a speech in 1960, after a decade of Chinese animosity toward the United States in the wake of the Korean War, Kennan asserted that it was a vital U.S. interest to erect “firm barriers” to what he characterized as “contemporary Chinese imperialism,” and specifically to “see to it that the major archipelagos and islands lying off the coast of East Asia do not become susceptible of exploitation by mainland forces hostile to the peace and freedom of the Pacific community.” In another speech four years later, he observed that Beijing’s communist leaders hated the United States because of its “temerity to stand in their path and to obstruct the expansion of their power.” Kennan said the United States had “no choice but to place ourselves in that path” in order to preserve the post–World War II regional balance of power and to prevent the emergence of “an Asia dominated by people so prejudiced against us, ideologically, as the Chinese Communists.” He insisted, however, that Washington was only seeking to prevent the extension of Chinese communist power to “those insular and peninsular appendages of the Asiatic continent”—this time including South Korea—and emphasized that the U.S. approach was wholly defensive, not “purely, or even primarily, a military” strategy, and not aimed at overthrowing the Chinese communist regime.
This clearly implied a desire to prevent the spread of Chinese influence within the region that sounded much like the original containment goal of preventing the extension of Soviet influence. More importantly, Kennan’s idea of erecting “firm barriers” against Chinese influence and “standing in the path” of an expansion of Chinese power seemed to echo his prescription in the “X” article for containing Soviet communism: through the “adroit and vigilant application of counterforce at a series of constantly shifting geographical and political points.”
This, arguably, is what the United States is pursuing today through various policies and strategies that seek to counterbalance—and thus limit the spread of—Chinese influence within East Asia relative to that of the United States. Many observers, both Asian and American, saw that as a central goal of the Obama administration’s “rebalance” to East Asia, and wanted it to be. And the U.S. diplomatic and economic engagement, security cooperation, and military deployments that the Trump administration has sustained in the region—now within the framework of pursuing “a free and open Indo-Pacific”—are all widely perceived as being aimed at the same goal. Kennan would have approved of this approach, having essentially endorsed it as early as 1960.
But this is precisely the goal and the set of U.S. policies which Chinese leaders today routinely characterize as “containment.” Many other East Asian observers, including among close U.S. allies, probably think of it the same way and support it as such. Washington may define the word differently, recognize that China represents a different kind of challenge than the Soviet Union, and thus frame U.S. strategy toward China in other terms. But denying that Washington has a containment policy on the grounds that it is not applying the same strategy it applied to the Soviet Union is only talking past Beijing, because what the Chinese (and some of their neighbors) describe as “containment” is simply this perceived U.S. effort to limit China’s influence in the region relative to Washington’s. The disagreement is only semantic. The bottom line is that Kennan today would essentially be advocating what the Chinese have chosen to call “containment.” A version of his doctrine is thus operative in East Asia even though it has renounced or changed its name.
There is another core element of Kennan’s original containment doctrine that applies in East Asia today: the requirements on the U.S. side. In the “X” article, he observed that “the issue of Soviet-American relations is in essence a test of the over-all worth of the United States as a nation among nations.” American success ultimately depended, he wrote, upon “the degree to which the United States can create among the peoples of the world generally the impression of a country that knows what it wants” and “is coping successfully with the problem of its internal life and with the responsibilities of a world power.” The same conditions apply equally if not more so today, and not only with respect to U.S. relations with East Asia. Seventy years after Kennan wrote those words to describe the fundamental prerequisite to American “containment” of external challenges, the country is again facing a self-imposed test of the United States as a nation among nations.

Paul Heer is an adjunct professor at George Washington University and former National Intelligence Officer for East Asia (2007–15). This essay is adapted from his forthcoming book Mr. X and the Pacific: George F. Kennan and American Policy in East Asia (Cornell University Press).

Grupo de Estudos e Pesquisas de Historia Economica - manifesto

Manifesto Fundacional
Grupo de Estudos e Pesquisas Eulália & Bárbara 
Rio de Janeiro, 16 de abril de 2018.

Há muito tardava a necessidade de um grupo de estudos para os discentes que se identificam com a História Econômica, quando, em agosto de 2016, um pequeno contingente de estudantes resolveram ler e debater em conjunto o livroEscravidão e Capitalismo Histórico, na esteira de sua repercussão durante o V Congresso Latino-Americano de História Econômica. Desde então, reunindo-se na sala do SEO e do POLIS, na UFF (Campus do Gragoatá), as despretensiosas reuniões evoluíram para um espaço de formação conjunta e o grupo de estudos cresceu. Também se tornou mais complexo, constituindo-se em ponto de encontro para pesquisas afins, bem como se tornando um instrumento de organização discente para atividades acadêmicas.
Nesse curto tempo, muito projetamos e realizamos alguns de nossos anseios, sendo o nosso grupo de estudos extremamente útil para nossos intentos. Entretanto, ainda tomados por nossas trajetórias individuais, encontramos a necessidade de dar regularidade e formalizar nossos esforços em conjunto.
A decisão pela fundação desse grupo está assentada na convicção de que a História Econômica jamais deixou de ser um campo fundamental para uma perspectiva historiográfica estruturalista. Não negamos os avanços conquistados na historiografia oriundos da introdução da multiplicidade e do subjetivismo como fatores a serem reconhecidos pelo historiador, os quais possibilitaram a emergência de novas abordagens na prática de pesquisa e incentivaram a integração da história com diferentes áreas do conhecimento. Partimos do entendimento, contudo, que as relações econômicas envolvendo instituições e indivíduos - compreendendo as esferas da produção, das trocas, do financiamento e do consumo - atuam como condicionante no desenvolvimento das múltiplas experiências e significações próprias do espírito humano. Defendemos assim, dentro da melhor tradição dialética, a conciliação entre essa pluralidade de enfoques e o reconhecimento das bases socioeconômicas da vivência social, caminho indispensável para a construção da história dentro de horizontes totalizantes, mas que deem conta de abarcar dentro de si a heterogeneidade da prática historiográfica sem sufocá-la.
page1image16293488
Nos definimos como um grupo de estudos e pesquisas composto exclusivamente por discentes/pesquisadores em formação (dos graduandos até os recém doutores), e que se inserem na historiografia pelo diálogo com a História Econômico-Social. De outra forma, queremos dizer que reunimos estudantes com diversos graus de relação com a História Econômica, preservando grande pluralidade de enfoques de pesquisas, recortes temáticos e cronológicos em nossa coletividade.
Os nossos objetivos fundacionais são: 1- estudo e debate da historiografia para formação dos membros, no geral, mas também para participações em cursos, eventos, concursos ou qualquer atividade acadêmica específica; 2- debate e articulação das nossas pesquisas e trabalhos científicos e/ou institucionais; 3- inserção acadêmica conjunta em eventos, periódicos, associações, programas, cursos, etc.
Nosso caráter interinstitucional e a riqueza de nossas relações com outras coletividades devem preservar nossa atuação em grupos de pesquisa, laboratórios e associações outras, em conjunto com nossos professores e orientadores. Essa sinergia não só é possível, quanto parece necessária para o nosso estabelecimento e inserção como grupo em ambientes institucionais e atividades científicas que demandem apoio de nossos mestres. Entre nós, a inexistência de uma hierarquia estratificada (seja titulada e/ou através da experiência) pode garantir uma outra qualidade de formação, além de permitir outras vias de organização acadêmica e realização de pesquisas.
No momento de sua fundação o grupo contém graduandos e pós-graduandos em formação na UFF, UFRJ, UNIRIO, FIOCRUZ, USP e UNL. Alguns de seus integrantes são associados à ABPHE, ANPUH e SEO. Os grupos de pesquisa e laboratórios que já integram são: Laboratório Polis - História Econômico- Social/UFF, Laboratório HEQUS – História Econômica Quantitativa e Social/UFF,LEHI - Laboratório de Economia e História/UFRRJ, LAPEDHE - Laboratório de Pesquisa e Documentação em História Econômica e Social/UFF, Grupo de Pesquisa Portos e Cidades no Mundo Atlântico/CNPq e Grupo de Pesquisa O Vale do Paraíba, o Império do Brasil e a Segunda Escravidão/UNIRIO.
Após todos os esforços para articularmos um contingente apreciável de estudantes pesquisadores, sobrou-nos a difícil tarefa de nomear esse agrupamento. No momento em que muitos decidem por caminhar sozinhos,
optamos pela força do conjunto. Pensando nessa premissa, decidimos homenagear não uma, mas duas mulheres de especial importância para a historiografia: Eulália Maria Lahmeyer Lobo e Maria Bárbara Levy. Eulália e Bárbara trabalharam juntas desde a década de 1970, escreveram na mesma época e lançaram, quase que simultaneamente, dois clássicos da historiografia do Rio de Janeiro. Fundaram a Conferência Internacional de História de Empresas, idealizaram a Associação Brasileira de Pesquisadores em História Econômica e o seu Congresso Brasileiro de História Econômica. Bárbara faleceu mais cedo, Eulália deu sequência aos projetos que as duas formularam em conjunto. Em 2011, a professora Eulália também faleceu.
As duas continuam tendo seus legados intelectuais individualmente vivos, sendo lidas e extremamente úteis à formação de gerações de historiadores. Entretanto, especialmente para os estudantes que não as conheceram, ouvir falar de Eulália e Bárbara em conjunto não é incomum. Nossos professores e orientadores muitas vezes falam das duas como uma dupla de forma absolutamente naturalizada, as suas trajetórias justificam como são lembradas. E é dessa forma que o nosso grupo gostaria de ser identificado, com essa característica de soma de esforços, de associação intelectual, de articulação acadêmica, de apoio mútuo na formação e no trabalho científico.
Dessa forma, temos orgulho de nos apresentar sob o nome Grupo de Estudos e Pesquisas Eulália e Bárbara.

Subscrevem este Manifesto Fundacional:
Alan Ribeiro (UFF)
Amanda Marinho (USP)
Bruna Dourado (UFF)
Bruno Linhares (USP)
Daniel Schneider (UFF) 

Demétrio Santos (UFF)
Giselle Machado (FIOCRUZ) 

Guilherme Barreto (UFF) 
Guilherme Giesta (UFF) 
Guilherme Villela (UNL)
João Marcos Mesquita (UNIRIO) 

Juliana Valpasso (UFF)
Luana Bonacchi (UFF)
Marcio Cardoso (UFF)
Marcos Marinho (UFF)
Matheus Santana (FIOCRUZ) 

Mylena Porto (UFRJ)
Pedro Henrique Guzzo (UFF)
Pedro Sousa (UFF) 
Philippe Moreira (UFF) 
Rodrigo Aragão (FIOCRUZ) 
Rodrigo Marretto (UFF) 
Silvana Andrade (UFF) 
Thaiz Freitas (UFF)
Thiago Alvarenga (UFF) 

Thiago Mantuano (UFF) 
Vitor Hugo Monteiro (UFF)

The War that Ended Peace: The Road to 1914 - Margaret MacMillan

The War That Ended Peace: The Road to 1914 

https://www.amazon.com.br/War-That-Ended-Peace-Road/dp/0812980662

Chapter 1

Europe in 1900

On April 14, 1900, Emile Loubet, the President of France, talked approvingly about justice and human kindness as he opened the Paris Universal Exposition. There was little kindness to be found in the press comments at the time. The exhibitions were not ready; the site was a dusty mess of building works; and almost everyone hated the giant statue over the entrance of a woman modeled on the actress Sarah Bernhardt and dressed in a fashionable evening dress. Yet the Exposition went on to be a triumph, with over 50 million visitors.

In style and content the Exposition partly celebrated the glories of the past and each nation displayed its national treasures—whether paintings, sculptures, rare books or scrolls—and its national activities. So where the Canadian pavilion had piles of furs, the Finnish showed lots of wood, and the Portuguese decorated their pavilion with ornamental fish. Many of the European pavilions mimicked great Gothic or Renaissance buildings, although little Switzerland built a chalet. The Chinese copied a part of the Forbidden City in Beijing and Siam (today Thailand) put up a pagoda. The Ottoman Empire, that dwindling but still great state which stretched from the Balkans in southern Europe through Turkey to the Arab Middle East, chose a pavilion which was a jumble of styles, much like its own peoples who included Christians, Muslims and Jews and many different ethnicities. With colored tiles and bricks, arches, towers, Gothic windows, elements of mosques, of the Grand Bazaar from Constantinople (now Istanbul), it was fitting that the overall result still somehow resembled the Hagia Sophia, once a great Christian church that became a mosque after the Ottoman conquest.

Germany’s pavilion was surmounted by a statue of a herald blowing a trumpet, suitable, perhaps, for the newest of the great European powers. Inside was an exact reproduction of Frederick the Great’s library; tactfully the Germans did not focus on his military victories, many of them over France. The western facade hinted, though, at a new rivalry, the one which was developing between Germany and the world’s greatest naval power, Great Britain: a panel showed a stormy sea with sirens calling and had a motto rumored to be written by Germany’s ruler, Kaiser Wilhelm II, himself: “Fortune’s star invites the courageous man to pull up the anchor and throw himself into the conquest of the waves.” Elsewhere at the Exposition were reminders of the rapidly burgeoning power of a country that had only come into existence in 1871; the Palace of Electricity contained a giant crane from Germany which could lift 25,000 kilos.

Austria-Hungary, Germany’s closest friend in Europe, had two separate pavilions, one for each half of what had come to be known as the Dual Monarchy. The Austrian one was a triumph of Art Nouveau, the new style which had been catching on in Europe. Marble cherubs and dolphins played around its fountains, giant statues held up its staircases and every inch of its walls appeared to be covered by gold leaf, precious stones, happy or sad masks, or garlands. A grand reception room was set aside for members of the Habsburg family which had presided for centuries over the great empire stretching from the center of Europe down to the Alps and Adriatic, and the exhibits showed off the work of Poles, Czechs, and South Slavs from the Dalmatian coast, only some of the Dual Monarchy’s many peoples. Next to the Austrian pavilion and separating it from that of Hungary stood a smaller one, representing the little province of Bosnia, still technically part of the Ottoman Empire but administered since 1878 from Vienna. The Bosnian pavilion, with its lovely decorations by craftsmen from its capital of Sarajevo, looked, said the guide published by Hachette, like a young girl being brought out into the world for the first time by her parents.1 (And they were not particularly happy ones at that.)

The mood of the Hungarian pavilion was strongly nationalistic. (Austrian critics said sourly that the folk art on display was vulgar and its colors too bright.) The exhibits also included a reconstruction of the great citadel of Comorn (Komáron) in the north which stood in the way of the Ottomans in the sixteenth century as they stretched northwards into Europe. Much more recently, in 1848, it had been held by Hungarian nationalists in the revolt against the Habsburgs but had fallen to Austrian forces in 1849. Another room was dedicated to the Hussars, famous for their bravery in the wars against the Ottomans. The exhibits paid less attention though to the millions of non-Hungarian peoples, Croatians or Rumanians, for example, who lived within Hungary’s borders.

Italy, like Germany a new country and a great power more by courtesy than in reality, had built what looked like a vast, richly decorated cathedral. On its golden dome stood a giant eagle, its wings outstretched in triumph. Inside it was filled with art from the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, but the glories of the past could weigh heavily on a poor young country. Britain, by contrast, chose to be low key even though it still dominated much of the world’s trade and manufacturing and had the world’s biggest navy and largest empire. Its exhibit was housed in a cozy country house designed by rising young architect Edwin Lutyens in the half-timbered Tudor style and consisted mainly of English paintings from the eighteenth century. Some private British owners had refused to lend their works because Britain’s relations with France, traditionally difficult, were particularly strained in 1900.2

Russia had pride of place at the Exposition as France’s favored ally. The Russian exhibits were huge and scattered in several different locations, ranging from a massive palace in the style of the Kremlin dedicated to Siberia to a richly decorated pavilion named in honor of the Tsar’s mother, Empress Marie. Visitors could admire, among much else, a map of France made in precious stones which the Tsar, Nicholas II, had sent as a present to the French and marvel at the sheer extent of the Romanovs’ possessions. The French themselves did not have their own pavilion; the whole Exposition was after all designed to be a monument to French civilization, French power, French industry and agriculture, and French colonies, and room after room in the different special exhibits was devoted to French achievements. The French section of the Palais des Beaux-Arts was, said the guide, naturally a model of good taste and luxury. The Exposition marked the reassertion by France that it was still a great power, even though only thirty years previously it had been utterly defeated as it had tried to prevent Germany coming into existence.

The Universal Exposition was nevertheless, the French declared, a “symbol of harmony and peace” for all of humanity. Although the more than forty countries exhibiting in Paris were mainly European, the United States, China, and several Latin American countries also had pavilions. As a reminder though of where power still lay, a large part of the Exposition was given over to colonies where the European powers showed off their possessions. The crowds could marvel at exotic plants and beasts, walk by replicas of African villages, watch craftsmen from French Indochina at their work, or shop in North African souks. “Supple dancing girls,” said an American observer severely, “perform the worst forms of bodily contortions known to the followers of Terpsichore.”3 Visitors came away with a comfortable assurance that their civilization was superior and that its benefits were being spread around the globe.

The Exposition seemed a suitable way to mark the end of a century which had started with revolutions and wars but which now stood for progress, peace and prosperity. Europe had not been entirely free of wars in the nineteenth century but they had been nothing to compare with the long struggles of the eighteenth century or the wars of the French Revolution and later those of Napoleon which had drawn in almost every European power. The wars of the nineteenth century had generally been short—like the one between Prussia and the Austrian Empire which had lasted for seven weeks—or colonial wars fought far from European soil. (The Europeans should have paid more attention to the American Civil War which not only lasted for four years but which gave an early warning that modern technology and the humble barbed wire and spades were shifting the advantage in war to the defense.) While the Crimean War in the middle of the century had involved four European powers, it was the exception. In the Austro-Prussian War, the Franco-Prussian, or the Russo-Turkish the other powers had wisely stayed out of the conflict and had done what they could to build peace again.

In certain circumstances war was still seen as a reasonable choice for nations if they could see no other way to obtain their goals. Prussia was not prepared to share control of the German states with Austria and Austria was determined not to concede. The war that followed settled the issue in Prussia’s favor. Resorting to war was costly but not excessively so. Wars were limited both in time and in their scope. Professional armies fought each other and damage to civilians and to property was minimal, certainly in light of what was to come. It was still possible to attack and win decisive victories. The Franco-Prussian War of 1870–71, though, like the American Civil War, hinted that armed conflict was changing: with conscription, armies were bigger, and better and more accurate weapons and increased firepower meant that the forces of the Prussians and their German allies suffered large casualties in the opening attacks on the French. And the surrender of the French army at Sedan did not end the fighting. Instead the French people, or large sections of it, chose to fight on in a people’s war. Yet even that had finally ended. France and the new Germany had made peace and their relations had gradually mended. In 1900 the Berlin business community sent a message for the opening of the Exposition to the Paris Chamber of Commerce, wishing success to “this great undertaking, which is destined to bring the civilized nations of the world nearer to one another in the labours common to them all.”4 The large numbers of German visitors who were expected to go to Paris would, so many in Germany hoped, help to build better relations between the peoples of their two countries.

All the peoples of the earth have worked on the Exposition, said the special Hachette guide: “they have accumulated their marvels and their treasures for us to reveal unknown arts, overlooked discoveries and to compete with us in a peaceful way where Progress will not slacken in her conquests.” The themes of progress and the future ran throughout the Exposition, from the new moving pavements to the cinema in the round. At one of the pavilions, the Château d’Eau, with its cascading waterfalls, shooting fountains, and colored lights playing on the waters, the centerpiece in a giant basin was an allegorical group which represented Humanity led by Progress advancing towards the Future and overthrowing the rather odd couple of Routine and Hatred.

The Exposition was a showcase for individual countries but it was also a monument to the most recent extraordinary achievements of Western civilization, in industry, commerce, science, technology, and the arts. You could see the new X-ray machines or be overwhelmed, as Henry James was, by the Hall of Dynamos, but the most exciting discovery of all was electricity. The Italian Futurist artist Giacomo Balla later called his daughters Luce and Elettricità in memory of what he saw at the Paris Exposition. (A third daughter was Elica—Propellor—after the modern machinery he also admired.) Camille Saint-Saëns wrote a special cantata in praise of electricity for the Exposition: Le Feu céleste with orchestra, soloists and choir was performed at a free concert. The Palace of Electricity was ablaze with 5,000 light bulbs and high on the summit of its roof stood the Fairy of Electricity in her chariot drawn by a horse and dragon. And there were dozens more palaces and pavilions devoted to the important activities of modern society, among them machinery, mining and metallurgy, chemical industries, public transportation, hygiene, and agriculture.

There was still more, much more. The second modern Olympic Games took place nearby in the Bois de Boulogne as part of the Exposition. Sports included fencing (where the French did very well), tennis (a British triumph), athletics (American dominated), cycling and croquet. At the Exposition Annexe in Vincennes you could examine the new motorcars and watch balloon races. Raoul Grimoin-Sanson, one of the earliest film directors, went up in his own balloon to film the Exposition from above. As the Hachette guide said, the Exposition was “the magnificent result, the extraordinary culmination of the whole century—the most fertile in discoveries, the most prodigious in sciences, which has revolutionized the economic order of the Universe.”

In light of what was to come in the twentieth century such boasting and such complacency seem pitiful to us, but in 1900 Europeans had good reason to feel pleased with the recent past and confident about the future. The thirty years since 1870 had brought an explosion in production and wealth and a transformation in society and the way people lived. Thanks to better and cheaper food, improvements in hygiene, and dramatic advances in medicine, Europeans were living longer and healthier lives. Although Europe’s population went up by perhaps as much as 100 million to a total of 400 million, it was able to absorb the growth thanks to increased output in its own industry and agriculture and imports from around the world. (And emigration acted as a safety valve to avoid an even more dramatic increase—some 25 million Europeans left in the last two decades of the century for new opportunities in the United States alone and millions more went to Australia or Canada or Argentina.)

Europe’s cities and towns grew as people moved from the countryside in increasing numbers in search of better opportunities in factories, shops and offices. On the eve of the French Revolution in 1789, Paris had some 600,000 inhabitants; by the time of the Exposition, 4 million. Budapest, the capital of Hungary, showed the most dramatic increase: in 1867 it had 280,000 inhabitants and by the time of the Great War, 933,000. As the numbers of Europeans making a living from agriculture went down, the industrial working classes and the middle classes grew. Workers organized themselves into unions, which were legal in most countries by the end of the century; in France the number of workers in unions went up fivefold in the fifteen years before 1900 and was to reach 1 million just before the Great War. In recognition of the increasing importance of the class, the Exposition had exhibits of model houses for workers and organizations for their moral and intellectual development.

Margaret MacMillan received her PhD from Oxford University and is now a professor of international history at Oxford, where she is also the warden of St. Antony’s College. She is a fellow of the Royal Society of Literature; a senior fellow of Massey College, University of Toronto; and an honorary fellow of Trinity College, University of Toronto, and of St Hilda’s College, Oxford University. She sits on the boards of the Mosaic Institute and the Reuters Institute for the Study of Journalism, and on the editorial boards of The International History Review and First World War Studies. She also sits on the advisory board of the Institute for Historical Justice and Reconciliation and is a Trustee of the Rhodes Trust. Her previous books include Dangerous Games: The Uses and Abuses of History, Nixon and Mao: The Week That Changed the World, Women of the Raj: The Mothers, Wives, and Daughters of the British Empire in India, and Paris 1919: Six Months That Changed the World, which won the Samuel Johnson Prize, the PEN Hessell-Tiltman Prize, and the Duff Cooper Prize and was a New York Times Editors’ Choice.

A review: 

"Cry 'Havoc' and let slip the dogs of war..."
17 de outubro de 2013 - Publicada na Amazon.com
As a Brit, studying the First World War at school in the seventies, memories of the Second World War were still fresh and bitter enough amongst parents and teachers that there was never really a question that the Germans were the 'bad guys' in both wars while we (the Brits, primarily, though a little bit of credit was occasionally given to the Allies) were the knights in shining armour. Enough time has passed since both wars now for a more rational view to be taken and this book by Margaret MacMillan is a well balanced, thoughtful and detailed account of the decades leading up to 1914.

MacMillan begins by giving an overview of the involved nations as they were at the turn of the century - their political structure, alliances and enmities, their culture and economic status. She then takes us in considerable depth through the twenty years or so preceding the war, concentrating on each nation in turn, and going further back into history when required. She introduces us to the main players: political, military and leading thinkers. She explains how and why the two main alliances developed that divided Europe and shows the fears of each nation feeling threatened or surrounded by potential enemies. And she shows how this led to an arms race, which each nation initially thought would act as a deterrence to war. Throughout she draws parallels to more recent history and current events, sometimes with frightening clarity.

In the mid-section, MacMillan discusses public opinion and cultural shifts, highlighting the parallel and divisive growth of militarism and pacifism and how the heads of government had to try to reconcile these factions. She indicates that, although the peace movement was international, that at times of threat, the membership tended to split on national lines - an indication that the movement would falter in the event of war, as indeed it did.

Next MacMillan explains the development of military planning and how these plans gradually became fixed, allowing little room for movement when war began. She explains that the Schlieffen Plan assumed war on two fronts and that, when it came to it, the military insisted that it wasn't possible to change the plan at the last moment to limit the war to the Eastern front, with all the implications that had for ensuring that France and therefore Britain would become involved. MacMillan also shows how the plans of each nation assumed an offensive, rather than defensive, strategy, taking little account of how modern weaponry would change the nature of warfare. Thus, when the war did come, the leaders still expected it to be short and decisive rather than the long drawn out trench warfare it became.

In the final section, MacMillan walks us through the various crises in the Balkans and elsewhere in the years leading up to the war. She makes the point that not only did these crises tend to firm up the two alliances but also the fact that each was finally resolved without a full-scale war led to a level of complacency that ultimately no country would take the final plunge. And in the penultimate chapter, she takes us on a detailed journey from the assassination of Franz Ferdinand up to the outbreak of war, showing how each government gradually concluded it was left with no alternatives but to fight. In a short final chapter, she rather movingly summarises the massive losses endured by each nation over the next four years, and gives a brief picture of the changed Europe that emerged.

Overall, I found this a very readable account. MacMillan has a clear and accessible writing style, and juggles the huge cast of characters well. I found I was rarely flicking backwards and forwards to remind myself of previous chapters - for me, always the sign of a well-written factual book. As with any history, there were parts that I found more or less interesting. I found the character studies of the various leaders very enlightening, while I was less interested in the various military plans (though accepting completely MacMillan's argument of their importance to the eventual inevitability of war). I got bogged down in the Balkans (always a problem for me in European history) but in the end MacMillan achieved the well-nigh impossible task of enabling me to grasp who was on whose side and why. This is a thorough, detailed and by no means short account of the period, but at no point did I feel that it dragged or lost focus.

One of the problems with the way I was taught about WW1 was that we tended to talk about the nations rather than the people - 'Germany did this', 'France said that', 'America's position was'. MacMillan's approach gives much more insight, allowing us to get to know the political and military leaders as people and showing the lack of unanimity in most of the governments. This humanised the history for me and gradually changed my opinion from believing that WW1 was a war that should never have been fought to feeling that, factoring in the always-uncertain vagaries of human nature, it could never have been avoided. This isn't MacMillan's position - she states clearly her belief that there are always choices and that the leaders could have chosen differently, and of course that's true. However, it seemed that by 1914 most of them felt so threatened and boxed in that it would have taken extraordinary courage and perception for them to act differently than they did, and inaction may have meant their country's downfall anyway. A sobering account of how prestige, honour and national interest led to a devastating war that no-one wanted but that no-one could prevent. Highly recommended.

NB This book was provided for review by the publisher, Random House.
Another review: 
J. Lindner
5,0 de 5 estrelasThe War that Ended Peace
6 de março de 2014 - Publicada na Amazon.com
Compra verificada
As we approach the centennial anniversary of the outbreak of World War One we should pause to reflect on the terrible loss that conflict brought. In terms of western culture, 1914 was truly a watershed year that ended one way of life and introduced another. Margaret MacMillan followed up her epic study of the Versailles Treaty with this equally impressive work. She attempts to show how the war came about primarily because too many people either wanted war or did not do enough to prevent it from happening. The result is perhaps the most thorough analysis of the pre-1914 world available to the modern reader.

MacMillan begins her book with an account of the major players (France, Germany, Russia, Britain, and Austria-Hungary) to illustrate their national hopes and dreams pitted against their fears and suspicions andn introduces the reader to the primary individuals who helped shape national policy. She then looks at the psychology of war and the peace efforts and compares them to the militarism that each nation experienced. She describes how the new concept of public opinion helped drive the leaders towards certain decisions. Next she looks at the series of run ups to the Great War's outbreak, Morocco, Bosnia, the Balkan Wars, and even the assassination of the Austrian archduke and his wife. None of these events meant that war was ultimiately inevitable. So long as there were at least some key players willing to negotiate and work through differences, war could be avoided.

MacMillan concludes that war came about because the forces that sought it outnumbered and outmanourvered those who did not. But she also works to debunk myths that have evolved over the years. Germany and the Kaiser were not solely responsible for war in 1914. Germany had repeated backed down in the face of international pressure during the Morocco crises of 1905 and 1911. The Kaiser, while having the personality that modern day people would call a "jerk" (or worse), had a way of standing down at the last minute. Granted, he was fascinated with all things military, he was the inheritor of the Prussian military tradition, but he did not set out to bring war upon the world as he has often been blamed for doing. She also critiques the Anglo-French entente that developed after 1904. Britain and France were not a unified front as British leaders continually looked for ways to be non-committal in backing France on international affairs. She also looks at the relationship between France and Russia, and considers the challenges facing Austria-Hungary and the upstart Serbia. All of these have had myths develop around them and MacMillan works through the hyperbole to understand the root causes of national decisions. In fact, MacMillan ultimately blames no one and everyone for the war. The Great War, and she uses this term throughout the book, was the sum total of government's unwillingness to resort to diplomacy when the world needed eiplomacy the most.

MacMillan is not only a fine historian but is also an excellent writer. Thoughout the book she interjects modern analogies to compare with her subject matter to help illustrate her points. One key such analogy appears near the end of the book when she states how John F. Kennedy employed diplomacy against the advice of his advisors in part because he had recently read Barbara Tuchman's The Guns of August. Kennedy gave diplomacy a chance, the players of 1914 did not.

MacMillan's writing style is crisp and lively. Truly, there is never a dull moment in this book. College history courses should utilize this book. The leaders of today should read this book. The average citizen who thinks that guns and war solve problems should read this book. There are lessons to be learned from MacMillan that need to be understood and appreciated. This book has all the makings of a Pulitzer Prize and as such cannot be discounted by anyone who is in the position of decision-making in international affairs. And on a large scale, that really means all of us, as public opinion is now counted for much by politicians and pollsters. This book should remain the standard for a long time to come, much like her work in Paris 1919 remains the standard for understanding our modern world as it resulted from the Paris peace conference.

terça-feira, 17 de abril de 2018

Populismo: pobreza, ignorancia e mentiras

Clarín, Buenos Aires – 17.4.2018
El populismo necesita pobreza, ignorancia y fanatismo
Félix V. Lonigro

Mucho se habla del populismo y pocas veces se entiende bien el sentido y alcance del término. El populismo no es una forma de gobierno, sino un estilo de gobernar propio de sistemas democráticos cuyos pueblos tienen una escasa cultura cívica. No es que en las autocracias no sea posible la existencia de populismos. En esos regímenes, los gobernantes no necesitan apelar a métodos populistas, ya que gobiernan sin los límites que marca una ley fundamental, o directamente desconociéndolos.
Un gobernante populista tiene un objetivo único y principal: perpetuarse en el ejercicio del poder para enriquecerse a costa del erario público, pero haciéndole creer hipócritamente al pueblo que lo ha elegido, que su principal preocupación es verlo feliz
Para construir ese imperio de corrupción, el populista necesita tres ingredientes fundamentales: pobreza, ignorancia y fanatismo.Necesita a los pobres porque se vale de sus necesidades para manipularlos a su antojo por medio de subsidios y prebendas. El secreto del éxito del populista está en evitar que los pobres dejen de serlo,para lograr someterlos mediante la dependencia económica y social, erigiéndose en protector de aquellos y declarándoles falazmente un amor incondicional que no sienten. Por eso jamás hablan en público de los pobres ni dan a conocer cuántos son.
El populista también necesita ignorantes, para evitar que la gente descubra la trama del engaño al que se la somete para cumplir sus objetivos. A un pueblo ignorante se lo engaña fácilmente, haciéndole creer que existen enemigos por doquier que desean perjudicarlos, y en ese contexto el populista se erige en una suerte de salvador supremo dispuesto a luchar contra esos supuestos enemigos a los que jamás denuncia ante la Justicia.
Y por último, el populista necesita dotar a su pretendida epopeya épica de un relato impregnado de falsedades y sofismas, que se difunde constantemente a través de interminables arengas y discursos emotivos, cuyo objetivo es fanatizar a sus adeptos, quienes a partir de ese fanatismo califican a los opositores de enemigos, provocando grietas sociales insalvables que no sólo aumentan las tensiones sociales, sino que llegan a destruir grupos de amigos, familias, y hasta parejas Es por ello que los populistas tienen un profundo desdén por los límites normativos al ejercicio del poder -justificando sus excesos en la legitimidad popular de su elección- y por el accionar independiente de la Justicia. 
Creen en la democracia pero no en la república, invocan falazmente que respetan las normas y califican a las denuncias de corrupción en su contra como intentos desestabilizadores provocados por los enemigos cuya existencia invocan permanentemente.
Ignorancia, pobreza, fanatismo y corrupción, son los pilares en los que se sustenta el imperio de los gobernantes populistas, tales como lo fueron los Kirchner en la Argentina, los Castro en Cuba, los Correa en Ecuador, los Morales en Bolivia, los Chávez y Maduro en Venezuela, los Ortega en Nicaragua, y también Roussef y Lula en Brasil. No es casual que, derrumbados sus imperios, de a poco vayan pagando las consecuencias de sus fechorías. Mientras tanto, tal como ocurre en Brasil y la Argentina, los vemos despotricar contra jueces “politizados”, que se pronuncian en causas “armadas” por los “enemigos del pueblo”.
Contra el flagelo populista, la educación es el único y más efectivo antídoto.

Félix V. Lonigro es profesor de Derecho Constitucional (UBA, UB y UAI).