sábado, 2 de abril de 2022

Liberalism and Its Discontents by Francis Fukuyama / Two Reviews.

 



Liberalism and Its Discontents by Francis Fukuyama review – a defence of liberalism… from a former neocon

 

In this slim, elegant book, the author of The End of History outlines with crystalline precision why the liberal spirit, for all its qualities, cannot grow complacent

 


Andrew Anthony

Tue 8 Mar 2022 07.00 GMT

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2022/mar/08/liberalism-and-its-discontents-by-francis-fukuyama-review-a-defence-of-liberalism-from-a-former-neocon

 

I read this book, which is a thoughtful critique but ultimately a stalwart defence of liberalism, as Russian tanks rolled into Ukraine, and it felt urgent and timely. Vladimir Putin, as Francis Fukuyama reminds us, has declared liberal democracy “obsolete”. His is not an uncommon opinion, even in liberal democracies. Thirty years ago, following the inglorious collapse of the Soviet Union and the Warsaw Pact, Fukuyama gained international recognition for his book entitled The End of History and the Last Man. It argued that liberal democracy was essentially “the end point of mankind’s ideological evolution”.

 

As events such as 9/11, the Afghan and Iraq wars and the 2008 financial crisis took their toll on liberalism’s self-confidence, Fukuyama’s work was denounced as the height of Hegelian hubris. He was seen as a naive believer in the inevitability of a western-defined idea of progress, and as someone who was blind to liberal democracy’s failings.

 

In some respects, the criticisms were unfair, or at least aimed at arguments he never made. But there seems little doubt that Fukuyama has had to eat rather a lot of humble pie. As he writes: “It’s clear liberalism has been in retreat in recent years.”

 

In that time, Fukuyama has backed away from the American neoconservative agenda that he had initially supported, and has watched as authoritarian leaders such as Putin, China’s Xi and Turkey’s Erdoğan laid claim to the world stage. He cites sobering statistics that political rights and civil liberties have been falling for the past 15 years around the world, having risen for the previous three and a half decades.

 

On top of all that, rightwing populists and leftwing progressives have made significant inroads into western politics. Following Donald Trump’s attack on democracy, and Britain’s rejection of European-style liberalism, the US and UK still adhere to liberal democracy, but it’s not exactly a political and economic system in which its beneficiaries feel much pride.

 

At times the former adviser to the Reagan administration can sound like a Scandinavian social democrat. Almost

 

The first difficulty when it comes to rousing the liberal spirit is that liberalism is famously difficult to define. It has become one of those words that mean different things to different political groupings. A vital strength of this slim, elegant book is that it is crystalline in its definitions, even while acknowledging the complexities of practice. Although liberalism is under attack from both left and right, it is from the left that the more serious intellectual challenge comes. Fukuyama recognises this fact and attempts to address the left’s criticism. Essentially a system that is founded on the principle of equality of individual rights, law and freedom has evolved rather conspicuous inequalities in each of those realms.

 

The most glaring are the economic inequalities that have grown in the west, particularly in the US and UK, over the past 40 years. Fukuyama attributes these to “neoliberalism”, the belief in unfettered markets as the means of delivering the goal of consumer welfare. But, Fukuyama contends, this is a distortion of liberalism, which has a much larger social remit than simply economic efficiency. It’s not just a question of regulating and limiting big business – although Fukuyama argues for both – but of appreciating the social capital that attains from redistribution and narrowing of inequalities. At times the former adviser to the Reagan administration can sound like a Scandinavian social democrat. Almost.

 

Nonetheless the postmodern left maintain that inequalities and injustice are not a malfunction of liberalism but instead a manifestation of structural power built in at a foundational level. His exegesis of critical theory from Marcuse through to Foucault, and how it has been widely adopted as a tool of sociopolitical analysis, is a brilliantly acute summary of the way some aspects of liberal thought have consumed themselves. The pursuit of individual autonomy or “self-actualisation”, for example, has become mired in an identity politics that subsumes the individual into rigidly defined groupings based on ethnicity, gender or sexuality. In a way, argues Fukuyama, this is a necessary step to address structural inequalities and counteract the misplaced notion that the individual is the only unit of social importance.

 

Taken to its extreme, however, this kind of analysis offers no liberation, but the revelation of ever deeper layers of oppression, in which individual thought is an illusion, and all intellectual interaction is subject to the power dynamics of group hierarchies. Everything, by way of this understanding, including empirical science, becomes a social construct designed to benefit the powerful.

 

As Fukuyama notes, it’s a form of conspiratorial thinking that has been duly adopted by the right, who saw measures enacted during the pandemic – mask wearing, vaccination and social-distancing – as signs of a hidden power elite. Although he outlines some familiar complaints about social media monopolies and their baleful effect on political discourse, the overall sense you gain from this book is that liberalism is in crisis because of the complacency that set in with its successes. Liberal democracy has delivered on many fronts, but with each step forward it left many constituencies behind.

 

Its opponents like to speak of the “Tina” – there is no alternative – way of thinking as a liberal democratic shibboleth that must be exposed. And so it must. There are alternatives – as the likes of Putin, Xi and their imitators conspicuously demonstrate. They’re just not good ones. However, liberalism cannot afford to rely on the flaws of its antagonists. It needs to refresh, re-evaluate and rethink. This book does not supply all, or enough, of the answers. But it’s a good place to start with asking the essential questions.

 

 Liberalism and Its Discontents by Francis Fukuyama is published by Profile (£16.99). To support the Guardian and Observer order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply

 

 

Liberalism and Its Discontents — Francis Fukuyama on fixing democracy

 

The political philosopher takes on critics on both left and right to offer a to-do list for the liberal centre

 


Edmund Fawcett MARCH 15 2022

https://www.ft.com/content/1c4afa51-ab6b-482f-87ed-46cbefb1a9e6

 

If self-analysis could cure anxiety, liberal democracy would be in rude health. Books have poured out lately on liberalism’s failings and how democracies break down. Among the diagnosticians, none is more eminent or experienced than Francis Fukuyama. None in recent decades has proved a better gauge of liberalism’s see-saw morale. Since the 1990s, in what looked like victory for liberal democracy, he has prodded and probed, ready to alter his mind as moods or circumstances changed.

 

He made a world name for himself when a journal article “The End of History?” (1989) came out as a book of like title, though missing the question mark. With great brilliance, the young scholar and government adviser argued that the collapse of Soviet communism had left democratic liberalism as the one remaining outlook with durable appeal. Others — authoritarianism, state capitalism, theocracy, strongman populism — each had incurable failings.

 

Fukuyama’s sunny early judgments of liberalism’s local health and global appeal have since darkened. He has not lost faith. Liberalism remains sound, attractive even next to looming rivals (as he eloquently argued recently in this paper). Yet that favourable diagnosis comes with big “ifs”. As embodied in the liberal democracies of what, since Russia’s assault on Ukraine, people are again calling the west, liberalism has grievous troubles, he thinks, not least from opponents within.

 

Fukuyama offers to show what liberalism is, why it matters and how far its “discontents” are due to overzealous defenders and misguided critics. The approach is more intellectual than geopolitical or governmental. How to repair liberal institutions has long preoccupied him but gets little attention. Liberalism and Its Discontents looks in, not out, and was finished before the war in Ukraine. Shadowed by international crisis, these 154 lucid pages can still be read with profit. An assumption runs off-screen throughout: if the liberal democracies cannot fix themselves and deliver better on their promises, authoritarians who scorn liberalism and its works may yet prevail.

 

A brisk first chapter sketches “classical liberalism”, Fukuyama’s favoured kind. He takes it as a means of “peacefully managing diversity in pluralistic societies”. Its core ideas are toleration, rooted in respect for personal autonomy and guaranteed by limited, lawful government. Further elements are private property and free markets, which best ensure wide prosperity. Whether those several elements have to stand together, or simply happen to, is left open. As early champions of “classical liberalism”, Fukuyama invokes, without undue detail, a mixed canon of Hobbes, Locke, Rousseau, Jefferson, the drafters of the French Declaration of the Rights of Man (1789) and Kant.

 

Fukuyama rightly reminds us that liberalism and democracy are distinct. There is illiberal democracy (Hungary under Viktor Orban, for example, or India as Narendra Modi would like it) as well as undemocratic liberalism (Bismarckian Germany, Singapore and Hong Kong now). Democracy is taken procedurally as a say for all in how those exercising state power are chosen and removed.

 

With definitions and abstractions out of the way, Fukuyama turns to his primary target: two kinds of intellectual undermining classic liberalism: free-market economists on the right and sociocultural critics on the left. Both overvalue “the sovereign self”. The first have twisted autonomy by vesting it in the market, the second by entrusting it to identity groups.

 

Dogmatic neoliberals, he complains, made a “religion” of free markets. Once revered names fill the dock: Mises, Hayek, Friedman, Becker, Stigler. Despite passing benefits, their ideas in practice hastened financial collapse, slow growth and austerity without offering correctives to the local harms of globalisation.

 

Culprits on the left include anti-liberal thinkers from the 1960s onwards who preferred identity politics to toleration: Herbert Marcuse (tolerance is repressive), Carole Pateman (liberalism protects male autonomy) and Charles Mills (a godfather of critical race theory). Far from serving diversity, identity politics puts personal autonomy at the mercy of the group. Two famed French subversives, Michel Foucault and Jacques Derrida, are blamed for speeding on a “cognitive crisis” of distrust in scientific authority and attested fact, which now grips the “nationalist-populist right” with its anti-vaccination delusions and conspiracy theories.

 

As for where now, Fukuyama sees little alternative but the liberal centre. Cries for more (and stricter) community from anti-liberal Catholics such as Patrick Deneen, Adrian Vermeule and Sohrab Ahmari are heard but rejected. The progressive left, he thinks, promises decline into bigger government, controls and deficits.

 

In bald summary, Fukuyama’s bravura prosecution sounds harsher than it reads. He is stringent but never parodic or snide. His call to order ends with a short, positive to-do list for shoring up the liberal centre: effective, “impersonal” government; devolution or subsidiarity; antitrust, especially for big media; less quarter for group demands; a “liberal” patriotism against the wrong sort of nationalists. Humane as ever, he adds two practical virtues: intellectual moderation and a feel for the achievable.

 

It is hard to think of a better case for liberal centrism with a conservative tinge than Liberalism and Its Discontents. Or, to be exact, a better case against liberal centrism’s more vocal critics. An obvious question is, will the critics and their admirers listen?

 

Free-marketeers may reasonably ask how strong, trusted governments will pay for a tempered, softer capitalism in the west as the rougher kind of capitalism creatively buccaneers across the rest of the world. Present-day liberalism’s critics to the left may reasonably ask why, despite successes after 1945, tempered capitalism seems unable to reduce or reverse enduring social inequities in work, health and wealth.

 

Fukuyama’s journey through liberalism began as the cold war ended when the west lost an ideological unifier with the death of Soviet communism. A natural thought is that Russia under Putin now gives fractious liberals a defining Other against which to rally. For Fukuyama, that would be false comfort. “The travails of liberalism,” he wrote in the FT recently, “will not end even if Putin loses.” Nor will they end when the culture wars Fukuyama charts so well die down. Liberalism’s travails are more social and structural than intellectual. Mitigation, let alone cure, will take more than self-analysis. Liberals have reason to worry.

 

Liberalism and Its Discontents by Francis Fukuyama, Profile £16.99/Farrar Straus and Giroux $26, 178 pages

 

Edmund Fawcett is author of ‘Liberalism’ (2018) and ‘Conservatism’ (2020)

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