Reflections on State and War
by
Hans-Hermann Hoppe
by Hans-Hermann Hoppe
DIGG THIS
This talk
was delivered in Auburn, Alabama, on the occasion of Professor Hoppe's
receiving the Mises Institute's 2006 Gary G. Schlarbaum Liberty
Prize.
Conventionally,
the state is defined as an agency with two unique characteristics.
First, it is a compulsory territorial monopolist of ultimate decision-making
(jurisdiction). That is, it is the ultimate arbiter in every case
of conflict, including conflicts involving itself. Second, the state
is a territorial monopolist of taxation. That is, it is an agency
that unilaterally fixes the price citizens must pay for its provision
of law and order.
Predictably,
if one can only appeal to the state for justice, justice will be
perverted in favor of the state. Instead of resolving conflict,
a monopolist of ultimate decision-making will provoke conflict in
order to settle it to his own advantage. Worse, while the quality
of justice will fall under monopolistic auspices, its price will
rise. Motivated like everyone else by self-interest but equipped
with the power to tax, the state agents' goal is always the same:
to maximize income and minimize productive effort.
State,
War, and Imperialism
Instead of
concentrating on the internal consequences of the institution of
a state, however, I will focus on its external consequences, i.e.,
foreign rather than domestic policy.
For one, as
an agency that perverts justice and imposes taxes, every state is
threatened with "exit." Especially its most productive citizen may
leave to escape taxation and the perversions of law. No state likes
this. To the contrary, instead of seeing the range of control and
tax base shrink, state agents prefer that they be expanded. Yet
this brings them in conflict with other states. Unlike competition
between "natural" persons and institutions, however, the competition
between states is eliminative. That is, there can be only one monopolist
of ultimate decision-making and taxation in any given area. Consequently,
the competition between different states promotes a tendency toward
political centralization and ultimately one single world state.
Further, as
tax-funded monopolists of ultimate decision-making, states are inherently
aggressive institutions. Whereas "natural" persons and institutions
must bear the cost of aggressive behavior themselves (which may
well induce them to abstain from such conduct), states can externalize
this cost onto their taxpayers. Hence, state agents are prone to
become provocateurs and aggressors and the process of centralization
can be expected to proceed by means of violent clashes, i.e., interstate
wars.
Moreover,
given that states must begin small and assuming as the starting
point a world composed of a multitude of independent territorial
units, something rather specific about the requirement of success
can be stated. Victory or defeat in interstate warfare depend on
many factors, of course, but other things such as population size
being the same, in the long run the decisive factor is the relative
amount of economic resources at a state's disposal. In taxing and
regulating, states do not contribute to the creation of economic
wealth. Instead, they parasitically draw on existing wealth. However,
state governments can influence the amount of existing wealth negatively.
Other things being equal, the lower the tax and regulation burden
imposed on the domestic economy, the larger the population will
tend to grow and the larger the amount of domestically produced
wealth on which the state can draw in its conflicts with neighboring
competitors. That is, states which tax and regulate their economies
comparatively little — liberal states — tend to defeat and expand
their territories or their range of hegemonic control at the expense
of less-liberal ones.
This explains,
for instance, why Western Europe came to dominate the rest of the
world rather than the other way around. More specifically, it explains
why it was first the Dutch, then the British and finally, in the
20th century, the United States, that became the dominant imperial
power, and why the United States, internally one of the most liberal
states, has conducted the most aggressive foreign policy, while
the former Soviet Union, for instance, with its entirely illiberal
(repressive) domestic policies has engaged in a comparatively peaceful
and cautious foreign policy. The United States knew that it could
militarily beat any other state; hence, it has been aggressive.
In contrast, the Soviet Union knew that it was bound to lose a military
confrontation with any state of substantial size unless it could
win within a few days or weeks.
From
Monarchy and Wars of Armies to Democracy and Total Wars
Historically,
most states have been monarchies, headed by absolute or constitutional
kings or princes. It is interesting to ask why this is so, but here
I have to leave this question aside. Suffice it to say that democratic
states (including so-called parliamentary monarchies), headed by
presidents or prime-ministers, were rare until the French Revolution
and have assumed world-historic importance only after World War
I.
While
all states must be expected to have aggressive inclinations, the
incentive structure faced by traditional kings on the one hand and
modern presidents on the other is different enough to account for
different kinds of war. Whereas kings viewed themselves as the private
owner of the territory under their control, presidents
consider themselves as temporary caretakers. The owner
of a resource is concerned about the current income to be derived
from the resource and the capital value embodied in it
(as a reflection of expected future income). His interests are long-run,
with a concern for the preservation and enhancement of the capital
values embodied in "his" country. In contrast, the caretaker
of a resource (viewed as public rather than private property)
is concerned primarily about his current income and pays little
or no attention to capital values.
The empirical
upshot of this different incentive structure is that monarchical
wars tended to be "moderate" and "conservative" as compared to democratic
warfare.
Monarchical
wars typically arose out of inheritance disputes brought on by a
complex network of inter-dynastic marriages. They were characterized
by tangible territorial objectives. They were not ideologically
motivated quarrels. The public considered war the king's private
affair, to be financed and executed with his own money and military
forces. Moreover, as conflicts between different ruling families,
kings felt compelled to recognize a clear distinction between combatants
and noncombatants and target their war efforts exclusively against
each other and their family estates. Thus military historian Michael
Howard noted about 18th-century monarchical warfare:
On the [European]
continent commerce, travel, cultural and learned intercourse went
on in wartime almost unhindered. The wars were the king's wars.
The role of the good citizen was to pay his taxes, and sound political
economy dictated that he should be left alone to make the money
out of which to pay those taxes. He was required to participate
neither in the decision out of which wars arose nor to take part
in them once they broke out, unless prompted by a spirit of youthful
adventure. These matters were arcane regni, the concern
of the sovereign alone. [War in European History, 73]
Similarly Ludwig
von Mises observed about the wars of armies:
In wars of
armies, the army does the fighting while the citizens who are
not members of the army pursue their normal lives. The citizens
pay the costs of warfare; they pay for the maintenance and equipment
of the army, but otherwise they remain outside of the war events.
It may happen that the war actions raze their houses, devastate
their land, and destroy their other property; but this, too, is
part of the war costs which they have to bear. It may also happen
that they are looted and incidentally killed by the warriors —
even by those of their "own" army. But these are events which
are not inherent in warfare as such; they hinder rather than help
the operations of the army leaders and are not tolerated if those
in command have full control over their troops. The warring state
which has formed, equipped, and maintained the army considers
looting by the soldiers an offense; they were hired to fight,
not to loot on their own. The state wants to keep civil life as
usual because it wants to preserve the tax-paying ability of its
citizens; conquered territories are regarded as its own domain.
The system of the market economy is to be maintained during the
war to serve the requirement of warfare. [Nationalökonomie,
725–26]
In
contrast to the limited warfare of the ancien regime, the
era of democratic warfare — which began with the French Revolution
and the Napoleonic Wars, continued during the 19th century with
the American War of Southern Independence, and reached its apex
during the 20th century with World War I and World War II — has
been the era of total war.
In blurring
the distinction between the rulers and the ruled ("we all rule ourselves"),
democracy strengthened the identification of the public with a particular
state. Rather than dynastic property disputes which could be resolved
through conquest and occupation, democratic wars became ideological
battles: clashes of civilizations, which could only be resolved
through cultural, linguistic, or religious domination, subjugation
and, if necessary, extermination. It became increasingly difficult
for members of the public to extricate themselves from personal
involvement in war. Resistance against higher taxes to fund a war
was considered treasonous. Because the democratic state, unlike
a monarchy, was "owned" by all, conscription became the rule rather
than the exception. And with mass armies of cheap and hence easily
disposable conscripts fighting for national goals and ideals, backed
by the economic resources of the entire nation, all distinctions
between combatants and noncombatants fell by the wayside. Collateral
damage was no longer an unintended side-effect but became an integral
part of warfare. "Once the state ceased to be regarded as 'property'
of dynastic princes," Michael Howard noted,
and became
instead the instrument of powerful forces dedicated to such abstract
concepts as Liberty, or Nationality, or Revolution, which enabled
large numbers of the population to see in that state the embodiment
of some absolute Good for which no price was too high, no sacrifice
too great to pay; then the 'temperate and indecisive contests'
of the rococo age appeared as absurd anachronisms. [ibid.
75–76]
Similar observations
have been made by the military historian and major-general J.F.C.
Fuller:
The influence
of the spirit of nationality, that is of democracy, on war was
profound, … [it] emotionalized war and, consequently, brutalized
it; …. National armies fight nations, royal armies fight
their like, the first obey a mob — always demented, the second
a king, generally sane. … All this developed out of the
French Revolution, which also gave to the world conscription —
herd warfare, and the herd coupling with finance and commerce
has begotten new realms of war. For when once the whole nation
fights, then is the whole national credit available for the purpose
of war. [War and Western Civilization, 26–27]
And William
A. Orton thus summarized matters:
Nineteenth-century
wars were kept within bounds by the tradition, well recognized
in international law, that civilian property and business were
outside the sphere of combat. Civilian assets were not exposed
to arbitrary distraint or permanent seizure, and apart from such
territorial and financial stipulations as one state might impose
on another, the economic and cultural life of the belligerents
was generally allowed to continue pretty much as it had been.
Twentieth-century practice has changed all that. During both World
Wars limitless lists of contraband coupled with unilateral declarations
of maritime law put every sort of commerce in jeopardy, and made
waste paper of all precedents. The close of the first war was
marked by a determined and successful effort to impair the economic
recovery of the principal losers, and to retain certain civilian
properties. The second war has seen the extension of that policy
to a point at which international law in war has ceased to exist.
For years the Government of Germany, so far as its arms could
reach, had based a policy of confiscation on a racial theory that
had no standing in civil law, international law, nor Christian
ethics; and when the war began, that violation of the comity of
nations proved contagious. Anglo-American leadership, in both
speech and action, launched a crusade that admitted of neither
legal nor territorial limits to the exercise of coercion. The
concept of neutrality was denounced in both theory and practice.
Not only enemy assets and interests, but the assets and interests
of any parties whatsoever, even in neutral countries, were exposed
to every constraint the belligerent powers could make effective;
and the assets and interests of neutral states and their civilians,
lodged in belligerent territories or under belligerent control,
were subjected to practically the same sort of coercion as those
of enemy nationals. Thus "total war" became a sort of war that
no civilian community could hope to escape; and "peace loving
nations" will draw the obvious inference. [The Liberal Tradition:
A Study of the Social and Spiritual Conditions of Freedom,
251–52]
Excursus:
The Doctrine of Democratic Peace
I have explained
how the institution of a state leads to war; why, seemingly paradoxical,
internally liberal states tend to be imperialist powers; and how
the spirit of democracy has contributed to the de-civilization in
the conduct of war.
More specifically,
I have explained the rise of the United States to the rank of the
world's foremost imperial power; and, as a consequence of its successive
transformation from the early beginnings as an aristocratic republic
into an unrestricted mass democracy which began with the War of
Southern Independence, the role of the United States as an increasingly
arrogant, self-righteous and zealous warmonger.
What appears
to be standing in the way of peace and civilization, then, is above
all the state and democracy, and specifically the world's model
democracy: the United States. Ironically if not surprisingly, however,
it is precisely the United States, which claims that it is the solution
to the quest for peace.
The reason
for this claim is the doctrine of democratic peace, which goes back
to the days of Woodrow Wilson and World War I, has been revived
in recent years by George W. Bush and his neo-conservative advisors,
and by now has become intellectual folklore even in liberal-libertarian
circles. The theory claims:
- Democracies
do not go to war against each other.
- Hence,
in order to create lasting peace, the entire world must be made
democratic.
And as a —
largely unstated — corollary:
- Today,
many states are not democratic and resist internal — democratic
— reform.
- Hence,
war must be waged on those states in order to convert them to
democracy and thus create lasting peace.
I do not have
the patience for a full-blown critique of this theory. I shall merely
provide a brief critique of the theory's initial premise and its
ultimate conclusion.
First:
Do democracies not go to war against each other? Since almost no
democracies existed before the 20th century the answer supposedly
must be found within the last hundred years or so. In fact, the
bulk of the evidence offered in favor of the thesis is the observation
that the countries of Western Europe have not gone to war against
each other in the post–World War II era. Likewise, in the
Pacific region, Japan and South Korea have not warred against each
other during the same period. Does this evidence prove the case?
The democratic-peace theorists think so. As "scientists" they are
interested in "statistical" proof, and as they see it there are
plenty of "cases" on which to build such proof: Germany did not
war against France, Italy, England, etc.; France did not war against
Spain, Italy, Belgium, etc.. Moreover, there are permutations: Germany
did not attack France, nor did France attack Germany, etc.. Thus,
we have seemingly dozens of confirmations — and that for some 60
years — and not a single counterexample. But do we really have so
many confirming cases?
The answer
is no: we have actually no more than a single case at hand. With
the end of World War II, essentially all of — by now: democratic
— Western Europe (and democratic Japan and South Korea in the Pacific
region) has become part of the US Empire, as indicated by the presence
of US troops in practically all of these countries. What the post
World War II period of peace then "proves" is not that democracies
do not go to war against each other but that a hegemonic, imperialist
power such as the United States did not let its various colonial
parts go to war against each other (and, of course, that the hegemon
itself did not see any need to go to war against its satellites
— because they obeyed — and they did not see the need or did not
dare to disobey their master).
Moreover, if
matters are thus perceived — based on an understanding of history
rather than the naïve belief that because one entity has a
different name than another their behavior must be independent from
one another — it becomes clear that the evidence presented has nothing
to do with democracy and everything with hegemony. For instance,
no war broke out between the end of World War II and the end of
the 1980s, i.e., during the hegemonic reign of the Soviet Union,
between East Germany, Poland, Czechoslovakia, Romania, Bulgaria,
Lithuania, Estonia, Hungary, etc. Was this because these were communist
dictatorships and communist dictatorships do not go to war against
each other? That would have to be the conclusion of "scientists"
of the caliber of democratic-peace theorists! But surely this conclusion
is wrong. No war broke out because the Soviet Union did not permit
this to happen — just as no war between Western democracies broke
out because the United States did not permit this to happen in its
dominion. To be sure, the Soviet Union intervened in Hungary and
Czechoslovakia, but so did the United States at various occasions
in Middle-America such as in Guatemala, for instance. (Incidentally:
How about the wars between Israel and Palestine and Lebanon? Are
not all these democracies? Or are Arab countries ruled out by definition
as undemocratic?)
Second:
What about democracy as a solution to anything, let alone peace?
Here the case of democratic-peace theorists appears even worse.
Indeed, the lack of historical understanding displayed by them is
truly frightening. Here are only some fundamental shortcomings:
First,
the theory involves a conceptual conflation of democracy and liberty
(freedom) that can only be called scandalous, especially coming
from self-proclaimed libertarians. The foundation and cornerstone
of liberty is the institution of private property; and private —
exclusive — property is logically incompatible with democracy —
majority rule. Democracy has nothing to do with freedom. Democracy
is a soft variant of communism, and rarely in the history of ideas
has it been taken for anything else. Incidentally, before the outbreak
of the democratic age, i.e., until the beginning of the 20th century,
government (state) tax-expenditures (combining all levels of government)
in Western European countries constituted somewhere between 7–15%
of national product, and in the still young United States even less.
Less than a hundred years of full-blown majority rule have increased
this percentage to about 50% in Europe and 40% in the United States.
Second,
the theory of democratic peace distinguishes essentially only between
democracy and non-democracy, summarily labeled dictatorship. Thus
not only disappear all aristocratic-republican regimes from view,
but more importantly for my current purposes, also all traditional
monarchies. They are equated with dictatorships a la Lenin, Mussolini,
Hitler, Stalin, Mao. In fact, however, traditional monarchies have
little in common with dictatorships (while democracy and dictatorship
are intimately related).
 |
$25 |
| "Democracy
has nothing to do with freedom. Democracy is a soft variant
of communism, and rarely in the history of ideas has it been
taken for anything else." |
Monarchies
are the semi-organic outgrowth of hierarchically
structured natural — stateless — social orders. Kings are the
heads of extended families, of clans, tribes, and nations. They
command a great deal of natural, voluntarily acknowledged authority,
inherited and accumulated over many generations. It is within the
framework of such orders (and of aristocratic republics) that liberalism
first developed and flourished. In contrast, democracies are egalitarian
and redistributionist in outlook; hence, the above-mentioned growth
of state power in the 20th century. Characteristically, the transition
from the monarchical age to the democratic one, beginning in the
second half of the 19th century, has seen a continuous decline in
the strength of liberal parties and a corresponding strengthening
of socialists of all stripes.
Third,
it follows from this that the view democratic-peace theorists have
of conflagrations such as World War I must be considered grotesque,
at least from the point of view of someone allegedly valuing freedom.
For them, this war was essentially a war of democracy against dictatorship;
hence, by increasing the number of democracies, it was a progressive,
peace-enhancing, and ultimately justified war.
In fact, matters
are very different. To be sure, pre-war Germany and Austria may
not have qualified as democratic as England, France, or
the United States at the time. But Germany and Austria were definitely
not dictatorships. They were (increasingly emasculated) monarchies
and as such arguably as liberal — if not more so — than
their counterparts. For instance, in the United States, anti-war
proponents were jailed, the German language was essentially outlawed,
and citizens of German descent were openly harassed and often forced
to change their names. Nothing comparable occurred in Austria and
Germany.
In any case,
however, the result of the crusade to make the world safe
for democracy was less liberal than what had existed before
(and the Versailles peace dictate precipitated World War II). Not
only did state power grow faster after the war than before. In particular,
the treatment of minorities deteriorated in the democratized post–World
War I period. In newly founded Czechoslovakia, for instance, the
Germans were systematically mistreated (until they were finally
expelled by the millions and butchered by the tens of thousands
after World War II) by the majority Czechs. Nothing remotely comparable
had happened to the Czechs during the previous Habsburg reign. The
situation regarding the relations between Germans and southern Slavs
in pre-war Austria versus post-war Yugoslavia respectively was similar.
Nor was this
a fluke. As under the Habsburg monarchy in Austria, for instance,
minorities had also been treated fairly well under the Ottomans.
However, when the multicultural Ottoman Empire disintegrated in
the course of the 19th century and was replaced by semi-democratic
nation-states such as Greece, Bulgaria, etc., the existing Ottoman
Muslims were expelled or exterminated. Similarly, after democracy
had triumphed in the United States with the military conquest of
the Southern Confederacy, the Union government quickly proceeded
to exterminate the Plains Indians. As
Mises had recognized, democracy does not work in multi-ethnic
societies. It does not create peace but promotes conflict and has
potentially genocidal tendencies.
Fourth
and intimately related, the democratic-peace theorists claim that
democracy represents a stable "equilibrium." This has been expressed
most clearly by Francis Fukuyama, who labeled the new democratic
world order as the "end of history." However, overwhelming evidence
exists that this claim is patently wrong.
On theoretical
grounds: How can democracy be a stable equilibrium if it is possible
that it be transformed democratically into a dictatorship,
i.e., a system which is considered not stable? Answer:
that makes no sense!
Moreover, empirically
democracies are anything but stable. As indicated, in multi-cultural
societies democracy regularly leads to the discrimination, oppression,
or even expulsion and extermination of minorities — hardly a peaceful
equilibrium. And in ethnically homogeneous societies, democracy
regularly leads to class warfare, which leads to economic crisis,
which leads to dictatorship. Think, for example, of post-Czarist
Russia, post-World War I Italy, Weimar Germany, Spain, Portugal,
and in more recent times Greece, Turkey, Guatemala, Argentina, Chile,
and Pakistan.
Not only is
this close correlation between democracy and dictatorship troublesome
for democratic-peace theorists; worse, they must come to grips with
the fact that the dictatorships emerging from crises of democracy
are by no means always worse, from a classical liberal or libertarian
view, than what would have resulted otherwise. Cases can be easily
cited where dictatorships were preferable and an improvement. Think
of Italy and Mussolini or Spain and Franco. In addition, how is
one to square the starry-eyed advocacy of democracy with the fact
that dictators, quite unlike kings who owe their rank to an accident
of birth, are often favorites of the masses and in this sense highly
democratic? Just think of Lenin or Stalin, who were certainly more
democratic than Czar Nicholas II; or think of Hitler, who was definitely
more democratic and a "man of the people" than Kaiser Wilhelm II
or Kaiser Franz Joseph.
According to
democratic-peace theorists, then, it would seem that we are supposed
to war against foreign dictators, whether kings or demagogues, in
order to install democracies, which then turn into (modern) dictatorships,
until finally, one supposes, the United States itself has turned
into a dictatorship, owing to the growth of internal state power
which results from the endless "emergencies" engendered by foreign
wars.
Better, I dare
say, to heed the advice of Erik von Kuehnelt-Leddihn and, instead
of aiming to make the world safe for democracy, we try
making it safe from democracy — everywhere, but most importantly
in the United States.
December
2, 2006
Hans-Hermann
Hoppe [send him mail],
whom Lew Rockwell calls "an international treasure," is distinguished
fellow at the Ludwig von Mises Institute and professor of economics
at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. His books include Democracy:
The God That Failed
and The
Myth of National Defense.
Visit his website.
Copyright
© 2006 by Hans-Hermann Hoppe
Hans-Hermann
Hoppe Archives
|