Routledge Handbook of Critical International Relations

Jenny Edkins

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2019
• ISBN:
  9781317433132
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Politics
• Index: Politics & International Relations

Critical international relations is both firmly established and rapidly expanding, and this Handbook offers a wide-ranging survey of contemporary research. It affords insights into exciting developments, more challenging issues and less prominent topics, examining debates around questions of imperialism, race, gender, ethics and aesthetics, and offering both an overview of the existing state of critical international politics and an agenda-setting collection that highlights emerging areas and fosters future research. Sections cover: critique and the discipline; relations beyond humanity; art and narrative; war, religion and security; otherness and diplomacy; spaces and times; resistance; and embodiment and intimacy.

An international group of expert scholars, whose contributions are commissioned for the volume, provide chapters that facilitate teaching at advanced undergraduate and postgraduate level, inspire new generations of researchers in the field and promote collaboration, cross-fertilisation and inspiration across sub-fields often treated separately, such as feminism, postcolonialism and poststructuralism. The volume sees these strands as complementary not contradictory, and emphasises their shared political goals, shared theoretical resources and complementary empirical practices.

Each chapter offers specific, focused, in-depth analysis that complements and exemplifies the broader coverage, making this Routledge Handbook of Critical International Relations essential reading for all students and scholars of international relations.

PART I

Critique and the discipline

1

IMPERIALISM AND LIMITS OF CRITIQUE

Latha Varadarajan

Introduction

Robert Cox’s essay on “Social Forces, States and World Orders” is one of the most cited articles in the literature on theoretical developments in the discipline of International Relations (IR).¹ This is especially true of the work pertaining to what has now become a burgeoning, if distinct, subfield in “critical theory.” Some of the major points raised by that article, particularly the insistence that “theory is always for someone and some purpose,” have indeed been deservedly celebrated (Cox, 1986: 207). Categorizing the mainstream IR theoretical traditions of the period as “problem-solving theory,” Cox correctly pointed out that the very bases of such theoretical work served the distinct purpose of perpetuating the existing relations of power, the systemic status quo. In that sense, the notion of a putatively objective, value-neutral social science espoused by the “neo” traditions (be it neorealism, the main target of the article or the related neoliberalism, often presented as the main alternative) was one that was fundamentally flawed.

In contrast to the prevalent mainstream approaches, Cox proposed the framework of “critical theory.” Unlike the problem-solving approach that took the existing international system as the unquestionable start and end point of any theoretical endeavor, the critical theoretical approach was one that “stood apart from the prevailing order of the world [to ask] how that order came about.” It was a tradition that took seriously the “continuing process of historical change,” and most importantly, it embraced the notion of normative theorizing – of conceptualizing alternatives to existing reality (Cox, 1986: 208–209). So far, so good. But then, we get to the more complicated question of what else, beyond these radical-sounding generalities, characterizes critical theory. To put it bluntly, how do we know critical theory when we see it? To his credit, Cox seems to provide an answer, at least of sorts, by highlighting the historical materialist method. At first glance, this use of historical materialism to explain the evolution and dynamic nature of world orders, while illustrating “critical” theory seems to successfully serve a dual purpose: one, it reveals what a Marxist approach in IR and to global politics in general might look like;² and two, it lays the foundation for a politically progressive alternative to mainstream IR theorizing. A closer look, however, leads to a different conclusion.

In this chapter, I argue that Cox’s essay perpetuates a certain notion of what can count as a “non-determinist” or “non-structuralist” – and therefore acceptable – version of Marxism, a version that can apparently co-exist with a multiplicity of essentially incompatible world-views under the comforting, inclusive category of “critical theory.” In doing so, notwithstanding authorial intentions, it has served to occlude, rather than clarify, not just the logic of Marxist thought and practice in IR, but also the very project of “critical theory” that it sought to establish. I do not make this argument as a prelude to demanding a resuscitation of “critical theory” in a way that incorporates a clearly articulated Marxist position. It is, of course, beyond the scope of this chapter to explore the many complexities of the history of Marxist political thought, and provide a comprehensive picture of what a Marxist analysis of global politics would look like. However, it is possible to provide a broad brushstroke view of some of the major features that ought to characterize such a world-view, and extrapolate from this the reasons why Marxism would not fit within the rubric of “critical theory” in IR, notwithstanding the catholicity of the category. I do so in this chapter through a counter-intuitive re-visiting of Cox’s essay. For, rather than being an exemplar of Marxist IR theory, the explanation of contemporary politics that Cox puts forth ultimately serves as an illustration of what a Marxist analysis would not look like, and why a marriage between Marxism and “critical theory” defined broadly is not only unsustainable, but unnecessary and politically problematic.

The argument outlined above is developed in this essay in two parts. Part I begins with a brief summary of the broader discussion about the relationship between theory and practice in the field of IR, as laid out in the landmark article. This is followed by a closer engagement with Cox’s discussion of historical materialism as a theoretical approach, both in terms of its connection to Marxism and the field of “critical theory.” I spell out some of the conceptual problems in the delineation of the historical materialist approach as a segue to explaining how these problems manifest themselves in Cox’s discussion of imperialism in the second part. As I show in Part II, the analysis of imperialism presented in the essay – in terms of its explanation of the existing world order as well as the vision of possible alternatives – appears to be Marxist in form, but is at its core essentially different. And in that, it sums up the un-tenability of a meaningful conflation of the Marxist approach with the catholic category of “critical theory.”

Part I

Theory and the nature of critique

How does one understand a complex social reality, particularly when it is fundamentally dynamic in character? Is it possible, or even necessary, that any attempt to arrive at such understanding to be purely “objective”? And when it comes to IR, what is the purpose of such an attempt? These are the crucially important questions that animate Robert Cox’s essay on world orders. As he makes clear in the succinct introduction, his goal was to articulate an answer to these kinds of questions in a way that allowed for thinking about the problem of world order as a whole, without reifying it. This in essence meant that the first order of business for students of IR was to pay attention to the historical origins of particular conventions of theorizing.

All theories, as Cox correctly asserted, are expressive of a perspective that “derive … specifically (from) social and political time and space,” and while more sophisticated theories “reflect upon and transcend” their own perspectives, they can never be completely divorced from that initial starting point (Cox, 1986: 207). What makes this claim even more crucial is what follows from it – the perspective, concealed or otherwise, underlying a theory is what helps us understand its purpose. And all theories have a purpose. Out of these elegantly stated claims, Cox derives his famous distinction between two kinds of theories – problem-solving and critical. The former not only “takes the world as it finds it,” but also is generally concerned with “dealing effectively with particular sources of trouble” so as to ensure the continued and smooth functioning of existing “social and power relationships and the institutions into which they are organized” (1986: 208). The latter, however, is focused more on the question of the origins of such relationships and the process of change, both intentional and on-going. Where problem-solving theory, by virtue of its focus, seems to have a precision that is lacked by critical theory, Cox points out this relative strength itself rests on a false premise, since the social and political order is itself not fixed, “but (at least in a long-range perspective) is changing”. More importantly, Cox exposes the fact that while the much-vaunted objectivity of problem-solving theory could have a limited application in the sense of its methodology (“insofar as it treats the variables it considers as objects”), it cannot be considered value-free to the extent that it “implicitly accepts the prevailing order as its own framework” (1986: 209).

Having established the two categories and the distinctions between them, Cox then proceeds to engage with two theoretical traditions that he claims “have had something important to say about interstate relations and world orders” – Realism and Marxism. Briefly skimming over the historical origins of the former, the essay hones in on what is its primary focus of critique, the transformation of realism into neorealism in the post-Second World War American academy. Neorealism, for Cox, is the stereotypical problem-solving theory for which history serves merely as “a quarry providing materials with which to illustrate variations on always recurrent themes,” and the forswearing of “moral goals” is meant to underscore its “non-normative quality” (Cox, 1986: 211–212). The problem with this approach, so to speak, is two-fold: one, the ahistorical epistemology precludes neorealists from understanding or explaining the dynamic nature of world orders; and two, the claim of being “value-free” remains true only at a superficial level, since neorealism pushes for state actors to adopt a particular guide to rational action in order to secure their position in the international system. Thus, neorealism in Cox’s view falls short even within its own parameters.

It is in contrast to the afore-mentioned problem-solving approach that Cox brings up Marxism, and in particular historical materialism, which he claims, can be understood in terms of providing a necessary corrective to neorealism in four important ways. First, historical materialism engages with the world through the framework of dialectics both at the level of logic and real history. This enables the theorist to pursue a dialogue based on “explorations of contradictions,” while being open to the possibility of structural change arising out of the confrontation between opposing social forces. Second, through its focus on imperialism, this approach adds a “vertical dimension of power” bringing in questions of core-periphery and metropole-hinterland relations to the analysis of global politics. Third, it “enlarges realism” by helping highlight the essential interconnectedness of state and civil society. And finally, historical materialism brings to the table the question of the production process in order to explain the various forms taken by state–society complexes (Cox, 1986: 215–216).

Having distinguished these features from the neorealist approach, Cox then proceeds to restate the basic premises for a “critical approach to a theory of world order,” which predominantly rests on the recognition of a “framework of action,” within which all human activity – including theorizing – takes place. This dynamic framework, taking the form of “historical structures,” “a particular configuration of forces,” a “combination of thought patterns, material conditions and human institutions which has a certain coherence among its elements,” shapes human action and the need for, as well as the nature of, theory. The shaping of human action is done not in a mechanical sense, but rather in terms of creating the “habits, pressures, expectations and constraints within which action takes place” (Cox, 1986: 217). At first glance, this description of how one ought to understand the human experience and what the nature and purpose of theorizing about it ought to be, sounds very much in line with what one would take to be a Marxist – or to use Cox’s chosen term, historical materialist – approach. It would then follow that critical theory is analogous with historical materialism. But this is where Cox begins to muddy the water.

Historical materialism, it turns out, is a “foremost source of critical theory” (Cox, 1986: 216). This then begs several questions: is historical materialism a source or is it a manifestation of critical theory; if the former, i.e., a “foremost source”, are there other sources as well, and what would they be; if the latter, is it merely one manifestation of critical theory, and if so, what would the others be and how would they relate to historical materialism? These questions are not simply a matter of academic quibbling. Rather, they serve to underscore the conceptual fuzziness at the heart of one of the foremost attempts to demarcate the boundaries of both Marxist theorizing of international politics and critical IR theory, which bleeds into several crucial issues related to political practice, particularly surrounding the question of imperialism and the struggle against it. We will return to this later on in the essay. But, for now, it is important to scrutinize how Cox himself understood the nature and logic of the historical-materialist approach.

Historical materialism and the question of history

Historical materialism, Cox argues is one of two types of Marxism – “a Marxism which reasons historically, and seeks to explain, as well as to promote, changes in social relations.” It is distinct from the other form of Marxism, a structural Marxism, which “designed as a framework for the analysis of capitalist state and society … turns its back on historical knowledge in favor of a more static and abstract conceptualization of the mode of production” (Cox, 1986: 214). Cox is of course far from being the first to make such a distinction. However, in the context of laying out the parameters of critical theory in IR, the primacy accorded to this bifurcation is indeed striking. Cox presents the distinction between historical materialism and structural Marxism as being akin to that between realism and neorealism. Is the point then to suggest that there is a version of Marxism that is actually modeled on the problem-solving approach, and as such doesn’t count as critical theory?³ Cox doesn’t really delve into that question, and in fact almost makes the comparison in a cursory manner. But, this shrugging off of the structural Marxist position does mean that the way in which Cox discusses the other Marxist tradition and its connection to critical theory deserves even closer scrutiny.

Historical materialism, as Cox explains, is the kind of Marxism that can be found in the “historical works of Marx”, and in the work of “present-day historians like Eric Hobsbawm” and “the thought of Gramsci.” These names are obviously not intended to serve as a comprehensive intellectual genealogy. But it is noteworthy that in addition to a very conscious delineation of Marx’s work, Cox’s list of historical materialist icons jumps from the 19th century to the latter half of the 20th with only one notable Marxist in between. The inclusion of Antonio Gramsci, the founder of the Italian Communist Party, is not in and of itself a surprising or even a novel move. As recent scholarship has revealed, there exists a virtual cottage industry of “Gramsciology” in academia, which has ennobled Gramsci as a unique and uniquely acceptable kind of Marxist – one who is attuned to the importance of culture, and unbound by the economic determinism that characterizes other (sometimes named, sometimes unnamed) Marxist theorists (see for instance, Saccarelli, 2008, 2011). In particular, “Gramsciologists” have highlighted Gramsci’s writings on the concept of “hegemony” to demarcate what is considered his distinctive contribution to Marxist theorizing, one that separates him from the rest of the flock, and allows him to be part of a pantheon that includes the founder of the historical materialist approach. These aforementioned notions have become so much part of an accepted common sense that the phrase “the Gramscian concept of” more often than not precedes the term “hegemony” in academic writings. However, what is consistently overlooked in these discussions is the fact that “hegemony” is not “Gramscian” in the sense of Gramsci having been the first, and arguably even the most important Marxist theorist to engage with this concept. Furthermore, in developing his argument about the ways in which the bourgeoisie exercized its power in society, Gramsci not only drew on the existing Marxist work on hegemony, but also actively engaged in the on-going debates in the Second and Third Internationals about the relationship between Marxist theory and practice (ibid.; see also Anderson, 1976, 2017).

It is beyond the scope of this chapter to provide any real insight into these debates. But the fact that they exist and are largely ignored, despite the role they played in shaping Gramsci’s ideas, needs to be noted. The invocation of Gramsci in a way that elides the whole question of Marxist theorists of the Second International and the Bolshevik revolution creates its own set of problems. The most pressing of these would be that such an elision colors how one defines the relationship between Marxist theory and practice, between understanding the world as it is and helping craft a different world order. To bring in Gramsci without acknowledging his own historical and political antecedents does help avoid the compl...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• List of figures
• List of contributors
• Acknowledgements
• Introduction
• PART I: Critique and the discipline
• PART II: Relations beyond humanity
• PART III: Art and narrative
• PART IV: War, religion, security
• PART V: Otherness and diplomacy
• PART VI: Spaces and times
• PART VII: Resistance
• PART VIII: Intimacy and embodiment
• Index