United Nations: libertarian dream
“Oldie but goodie” concepts of government resurface
NOTE: This was originally a sub-topic in another article, “Pixelated boobs: the case against a global government”. But it seems like I had more to say about the UN than I originally expected, so here it is as a standalone. And don’t worry, “Pixelated boobs” is still going to come out on schedule.
The United Nations, as an organization, is proud of its past and looks boldly to the future. Founded as the “The League of Nations, Part II: Revenge of the Diplomat” in the aftermath of World War II, its original goal was to prevent another world war. However, it is considered gauche today to suggest that certain nations’ policies are risking World War III… so the UN has found new windmills to tilt at: global warming climate change and wealth redistribution sustainable development. But that’s just a scene-setter; it’s not the point of this article.
Ironically and counterintuitively for a future-facing entity and one that seeks to usher humanity into a new era of international relations, the UN is a massive and multilayered throwback in governance. And, most surprisingly for an entity that is the closest thing we have to a world government, it’s perversely beautiful from a libertarian perspective. If, that is, we view it as a macrocosm; a society at the nation-state level, in which countries represent individual “citizens of the world”.
In an era of heavily bureaucratized liberal constitutional democracies, the UN combines pure (direct) democracy, representative democracy, and oligarchy—all older and more “primitive” forms of government. And—much as they hate to admit it—the UN coexists with, and to some extent within, kratocracy. This last, even though the UN was specifically created to restrain the use of force in international relations.
So let’s explore the political philosophies of the UN!
From hunter-gatherers to the Sith
In a kratocracy, might makes right and the governing law is the law of the jungle1. The strong do what they can, and the weak suffer what they must. This is the moral guidance, such as it is, of the entirety of the natural living world that surrounds us. It was the moral guidance embraced by humans for untold millennia before the development of ethics. If I have the power to do a thing, and you do not have the power to stop me, then I will do it whenever I like and you must accept it. Some other terms used to describe a kratocratic government may be “despotism”, “tyranny”, “dictatorship” and “autocracy”. While these terms today carry negative connotations, in their original use they were value-neutral; they simply describe a system in which the ruler does whatever he or she wants without restraint—with some nuance and peculiar characteristics for each distinct flavor of the concept.
This is probably the most primitive and ancient form of human government. On the scale of countries, this is the primary paradigm that guided international relations until the aftermath of World War II. Before the emergence of nationalism—before there ever was, say, a nation-state called “France”—we had various Dukes of various Burgundies and Normandies. They went to war with one another whenever they thought they could win, and the point of wars was to grab whatever they could for their personal enrichment—usually, land. After the Peace of Westphalia and the concept of the nation-state, the same wars continued; the only difference is that instead of fighting on behalf of the Prince of Pineland or the Archduke of Atropia, they were fought on behalf of the People2 of <fill in the blank>.
While kratocracy is chaotic in that players may use underhanded or unexpected means to gain advantage and thus overpower seemingly stronger opponents, it is not anarchy. There is an order (“pecking order”) and a structure to a kratocracy. Anarchy is the Mos Eisley Cantina: everyone does whatever they want. Kratocracy is the Sith Order: everyone knows who the top dog is and seeks to avoid his attention… or to take his place.
The basics
If a kratocracy is chaotic—players rising and falling as their fortunes shift—then that implies that there are more ordered states that the system can evolve into.
Consider the bottom-seeking crab barrel, the hegemony, and the top-seeking commune.
In a crab barrel, all players are equally low. If any one of them tries to climb up (out of the barrel), the others pull him back down again. “I know we are all miserable, but I’ll be damned if I let you be better off than I!” This persists until two players decide to team up and help each other fight off the other crabs, thus climbing higher… until one betrays the other in order to get that brass ring. The crab barrel either returns to its original “crab barrel” state, or it evolves into hegemony. Or, the crabs break the barrel, removing all constraints and returning all the way back to kratocracy.
In a hegemony, one player is overwhelmingly more powerful than the others. The hegemon settles disputes, enforces standards, and basically rules the world. The hope is that the hegemon is benevolent and acts in a way that produces the most benefit (or at least, the least harm) for all. But unless the hegemon is a saint or an AI, the probability of a benevolent hegemon tends to zero over time: this state is unstable. Sooner or later, someone comes along who wants hegemony for selfish reasons, and then hegemony becomes tyranny. This incentivizes the weaker players to team up and pull down the tyrant, flipping right back into the crab barrel or even all the way back into kratocracy. Or, after toppling the tyrant, the weaker players may listen to their better angels and establish a commune.
In a hippie commune, all players are altruistic and fair-minded toward one another; everyone shares freely and loves his fellow man, seeking to elevate everyone’s overall existence. Everyone agrees to treat everyone else with kindness and decency, and not to use force to settle whatever disputes may arise. In contrast to the crab barrel, where everyone’s goal is to keep everyone else down, the goal in a commune is to bring everyone else up. Unfortunately, this state does not usually occur in any primate except the bonobo; we are selfish, territorial, greedy, suspicious, and aggressive. Without regular intake of psychedelics, the probability of the commune among humans tends to zero over time: sooner or later, someone comes along who seeks to take advantage of everyone else’s generosity, and then… yep, it’s right back to tyranny.
Liberal democracy as we know it today is somewhere on the “commune” side of the spectrum, though maybe not all the way over on the “peace and love” end of the scale. The problem is that, in a democracy, everyone must agree to play by the rules and not to use all the means at their disposal—to include lies and violence—to get their way. Democracy depends on the consent of the losers, and eventually a loser comes along who doesn’t consent.3 Then the enlightened democracy temporarily becomes a crab barrel: everyone else must pull the sore loser down or else risk transformation into a hegemony or a kratocracy.
That‘s great, but what does it have to do with the UN of today?
Kratocracy is not a relic of days gone by; it is alive and well, although sometimes you have to look closely to recognize it. The US invasion of Iraq in 2003, right or wrong, is a textbook example: the US had the power and desire to invade, Iraq did not have the power to stop them, and the UN rubberstamped the whole thing because they were powerless to do otherwise. Yes, de jure it was all written up to be in accordance with “international law” (more on that later) in support of a Security Council resolution, but de facto it was the US bending the UN to its will in order to be able to do what the US had already decided it wanted to do.
There’s more than one way to skin a cat, and more than one way to exercise power. The UN was established to curb the excesses of military power, but it is not well equipped to counter the other elements of national power, the “DIME” so beloved of anyone who’s attended American officer Professional Military Education. So kratocracy in the 21st century sometimes has a more refined look.
Speaking of the US bending the UN to its will… this leads right to the oligarchy as an element of the UN: the fact that all member states are equal, but certain member states are more equal than others4. The five permanent members of the Security Council have privileges that no other nations have—not even those who are also on the Council, but made the stupid mistake of not being one of the permanent members. Only the Big 5 have the right of absolute veto; a “no” vote from any permanent member means automatic failure of the proposal being considered, whereas a “no” vote from any regular member simply gets counted alongside all the other votes.
An oligarchy is an odd blend of crab barrel and commune. On the one hand, the oligarchs agree that they are better than everyone else, and that they need to keep it that way; they cooperate with each other in order to keep everyone else down and themselves up. On the other hand, the oligarchs are constantly fighting for supremacy amongst themselves while the crabs eye them enviously; if one oligarch gets a little too low, he might get dragged down by the mob.
To continue the previous example, any attempt by the Security Council to censure the US invasion of Iraq, or otherwise to take any action not favored by the US, would simply be vetoed by the US5. Likewise for any votes involving Chinese or Russian interests. The other two, France and the UK, were active in previous decades, but have largely avoided the controversy and publicity of a veto recently. They cast their last veto votes in 1989.
This privileged status is enshrined in Article 23 of the UN Charter—the UN’s constitution and founding document. This also leads to several interesting dynamics:
First, it doesn’t matter how far the Big 5 may fall; they will always have a seat at the big table, and they will always have the power of absolute veto, often rendering the rest of the Security Council effectively irrelevant. Consider Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and the Security Council’s subsequent inability even to issue a statement acknowledging that bad things are happening as a result. Forget condemning either side—or both of them—the Council can’t even manage to do its favorite thing: express concern. Or even simply to say something like “we want people to stop dying”.
Second, it doesn’t matter how far any other member state may rise. India is now the world’s most populous country, with a rapidly growing economy and a population 22 times bigger than France’s. India doesn’t even have a seat on the Security Council. France, on the other hand, will always have a seat, and will be able to overrule India at will.
Certain nations were ascendant at the time that the UN was created. Because of this, they have permanent dibs. Forever.
This is a bit more advanced than plain despotism, in which a single player has all the power. On the Security Council, we have several actors who can, in theory, balance out one another’s whims. This is a lot more like medieval nobility; a Game of Thrones. Some players are just lucky enough to be born into it, which means that they will enjoy privileges for the rest of their lives that most other players will not.
The UN also defeats the natural progression of the oligarchy. As mentioned above, an oligarch who falls too low gets dragged down. However, the UN Charter ensures this can’t happen to any of the Big 5. This creates a tension between reality and the Charter: either the sinking oligarch somehow returns to his previous lofty position, or else the Charter must eventually rupture and allow the oligarch to fall.6
So… which will it be? Will the Charter survive the fall of the Big 5 and the rise of other nations to take their place? Or will it fail, taking down the UN with it?
And speaking of the rest of the Security Council, we would be remiss if we didn’t discuss how they are elected. Article 23 of the UN Charter states:
The General Assembly shall elect ten other Members of the United Nations to be non-permanent members of the Security Council, due regard being specially paid, in the first instance to the contribution of Members of the United Nations to the maintenance of international peace and security and to the other purposes of the Organization, and also to equitable geographical distribution.7 [emphasis added]
While the Charter itself doesn’t specify what an “equitable geographical distribution” is, today’s Security Council includes a set number of member states from each of the specified geographic regions. Specifically, there shall be: 3 from Africa, 2 from Latin America and the Caribbean; 2 from the Asia-Pacific region (not counting permanent member China), 2 from “Western Europe and others” (not counting the US, France, or the UK), and 1 from Eastern Europe (not counting Russia).8
It would be really cumbersome if all 193 Member States had to get together to discuss every trifling matter that gets brought to the Security Council. Plus, that would dilute the “yes” votes of the Big 5 (keeping in mind that their “no” votes are vetoes that automatically overrule everyone else). And so, the UN established a system of geographic representative democracy, where—for instance—3 nations from Africa represent the entire continent. Good thing that everyone in Africa speaks the same language, shares a common culture, and generally tends to agree on things!
Every once in a while, all Member States come together in New York City for Fashion Week the General Assembly. This event is an exercise in pure democracy, like a New England town hall meeting: everyone is in the same room, listening to the same speakers, and everyone’s vote counts the same. And just like at a New England town hall meeting, ancient feuds resurface, windbags dominate, and no decisions of real substance are made.
But tyrannies creep even into pure democracy: the tyranny of the majority, and of the minority.
Tyranny of the majority: Suppose you need a simple majority vote to pass a motion. 51% make pirate noises, and 49% make horsey noises.9 The motion passes, and nearly half of the voters are forced to go along with it even though they are opposed.
Tyranny of the minority: Suppose you need a unanimous vote to pass a motion. 99% vote “aye” but that one little bugger votes “nay”. The motion fails, even though the overwhelming majority is in favor.
Even pure democracy is coercive.
So where does libertarianism come in?
But the really interesting thing is the very nature of membership in the UN.
Membership is not automatic; there’s an application and review process, at least two rounds of voting, a Hell Week (when the pledges are forced to drink beer until they puke), a talent competition, and a bikini contest.10 Part of the application process is to commit to observe the UN Charter, which includes a set of rules that govern international relations. It also includes accepting the jurisdiction of the International Court of Justice, which is described in the Charter and is one of core bodies of the UN itself.
A nation-state may choose not to join the UN. Yes, it would forego the benefits of membership; but it could still raise an army, trade with other nations, establish diplomatic relations, issue currency—in other words, carry out all the functions of a modern-day nation-state. There is no requirement of UN membership for any of those things. And, this hypothetical nation would not be bound by UN rules.
So, a nation-state that simply wants to do its own thing and basically be left alone by everyone else could… do just that. There is no obligation for it to accept a set of rules simply because it’s located on the planet Earth, or to accept any higher authority on any matter whatsoever11—unless it chooses to surrender a part of its autonomy in exchange for some benefit, real or perceived.
But what about international law?
Here’s the thing about international law: it doesn’t really exist. There is no “law” without “law enforcement”, and there are no police on the international level—only vigilantes and opportunists. In the absence of an authority that can compel obedience to the law, there is no law—only suggestions.
Yes, there’s the International Court of Justice. But its authority is only recognized by, and applicable to, those nations that accept the UN Charter. In other words, only those who agree to be subject to the Court, are subject to it. And sometimes, not even they… The Court may issue an arrest warrant, but there is no International Police Force that can come and arrest you.
But what about the Law of War? The Law of the Sea?
There’s no such thing as a single, written “Law of War”. There are treaties and conventions (such as the Geneva Conventions), which are voluntary agreements. And there are customs and principles that guide decisionmaking during war, but do not offer any specific answers.
One such principle is “proportionality”, as in “the collateral damage caused by an act must not be excessive in relation to the military necessity or benefit of that act”. Who’s to say what is “excessive”? What’s the exchange rate between dead kids and burning tanks?
Another is “honor” or “fidelity”, which draws a distinction between perfectly legitimate military deception and despicable, forbidden perfidy.
All is forgiven—if you win.
There’s also no “Law of the Sea”. There is a treaty, the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea, which is a binding but voluntary agreement that UN member-states may choose to join. Guess which major player on the world stage is not a signatory and is therefore not bound by the so-called “Law of the Sea”? Well, it starts with “U”… and it ends with a “nited States of America”.
The social contract
Giving up our freedom in exchange for something is exactly what we do every day. Being a citizen of a functioning nation means surrendering a portion of one’s liberty in exchange for certain benefits—security usually being high on the list. This is the essence of the social contract.
Government, by virtue of existing, inflicts harm: it reduces your individual freedom (even if it’s done with your consent). The nominal reason why this is tolerated is because the government provides something of value in exchange, like security (which is why you consent to the harm). The government is far more powerful than its individual citizens; using our previous terms, it is a hegemon.
The problem is, governments very rarely shrink or relinquish power; they tend to grow over time, accreting ever greater power in exchange for ever more freedom (and taxes) extracted from their citizens. At some point, the value provided by a government falls far enough relative to the harm inflicted by that government, that the situation becomes untenable. The hegemony fails, the hegemon falls, and the cycle starts over.
Unlike the nations of the world, we do not have a choice in giving up our freedom. If you’re in the USA, you’re subject to American laws. If you’re in France, you’re subject to French law. The only choice we really have, is whose laws we choose to be subject to.
Not so for nation-states. Nations explicitly opt in to obeying so-called “international laws”, and they choose which one(s) they want to be bound by. And “none of the above” is a valid answer.
In the next article, I’ll explore why this is a good thing.
https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/kratocracy
As in, “I’m waging this war for the people of this great country! I am sending you to kill and be killed by people you’ve never met before, but I’m doing it for your own good!”
You thought I was going to link to story about Trump, didn’t you?
https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/oligarchy
That’s if it ever came to a vote in the first place. Sometimes, a member state will make it clear to the other member states that it intends to vote against a particular statement or proposition, if it ever goes to the floor for a vote. In that case, diplomats may choose not to bring up the matter for a vote in the first place, in order to avoid the public airing of differences.
Which begs the question: how far are the Big 5 willing to go to keep the Charter, and their seats on the Council, intact? What are they willing to overlook to make sure the merry-go-round doesn’t stop?
https://www.un.org/en/about-us/un-charter/chapter-5
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Nations_Security_Council
That’s “aye” and “neigh”, respectively.
OK, at least one of those is made up. Guess which one(s)!
Except force, of course. Force will always win.