These developments raise vexing questions for students of international relations. Will liberal democracy flounder as Russia and China seek to prove that authoritarianism and economic liberalism are not mutually exclusive? Or will Western states rally by abandoning ‘hard’ power in favour of its ‘soft’ and ‘smart’ variants, which emphasise shared cultural and economic interests over the blunt tool that is military might? Finally, looking beyond the nation-state, what kinds of power will interconnected, tech-savvy and politically engaged individuals wield in this new world order?

While the answers to these questions are anything but clear-cut, the contributors to this edition of The Sydney Globalist agree that this much is clear: power now has more faces than ever before, from the head of state’s to the putatively faceless blogger’s.

Power now has more faces than ever before, from the head of state’s to the putatively faceless blogger’s.

In our lead article, ‘The Technological Revolution: Freedom, Change and Democracy in Iran’, Jahan Navidi argues that the blogosphere has provided Iranian youths with an effective outlet for their malcontent with the Islamic Republic, which reached fever pitch with the eruption of allegations of electoral fraud in June.

Other contributors explore political scientist Joseph Nye’s concepts of ‘hard’, ‘soft’ and ‘smart’ power; the sinister potentialities of the power to regulate public health; the continued relevance of the nation-state in an increasingly borderless world; the latter-day ‘scramble for Africa’; and the capacity for subjugated peoples to wield power even as it is wielded against them by overbearing regimes. As the subject matter of these topical articles makes clear, power is amorphous indeed.

This edition, I am sad to say, marks the end of my editorship of The Sydney Globalist. I extend my heartfelt gratitude to the magazine’s industrious staff and contributors, without whose creativity and support this year’s editions would not have been possible. Their efforts and vision have held The Sydney Globalist in good stead for 2010 and beyond.

Yours in global affairs,

Christopher Beshara
Editor-in-Chief (2009)

Jahan Navidi explores the pivotal role that technology has played in promoting widespread social change in the aftermath of the disputed Iranian Presidential Election.

“If Iran sleeps tonight, Iran will sleep forever” –

Twitter Update, June 12, 2009 

For the past few months, the world has been glued to the television set, gazing in amazement as thousands upon thousands of Iranians have flocked to the streets, expressing their discontent and chanting: “Down with the dictator.” These protests – totally unprecedented in the last 30 years – demonstrate the people’s discontent with the current regime in Iran. Through their defiance of the ‘Supreme Leader’, Ali Khamenei, and in spite of his request for an end to the protests, many continue to risk life and limb in pursuit of freedom.  

The disputed re-election of Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has shaken the very foundations of the Islamic Republic, prompting the most widespread protests seen in the country since the Revolution of 1979. Chants such as “Where’s my vote?” and “Down with the Islamic Republic” have become commonplace, and what was once taboo is now readily spoken in public. For the first time in 30 years, the paradigmatic negative image of the Iranian people presented by the Western media has been replaced by an image of a people struggling to attain freedom and democracy.  

But what do these protests represent? Are they the beginning of another 1979-style Revolution? Or are they merely a product of Western propaganda, aimed at destabilising the oil-rich Persian state? Arguably, these suggestions are unfounded. Rather, it is plausible to argue that the significance of these protests lies in the progressive Revolution that they have inspired, led by perhaps the greatest weapon of all: technology. 

In a country where 68.3 per cent of the 71 million-strong population is under the age of 34, the youth have emerged as the face of this power shift, with technology as their primary medium for achieving freedom. Formidably armed with the tenacity of Twitter, the ferocity of Facebook and the yearning of YouTube, Iranians face off against the brutality of the Islamic Republic as they attempt to break down the barriers of religious extremism and communicate their inspiring pursuit of freedom to the world. 

The elections ignited 30 years of dissatisfaction with a repressive regime that has denied even the most basic civil liberties to its citizens.

Arguably, the election of Ahmadinejad in 2009 is not solely responsible for this tumultuous uprising. Rather, the elections ignited 30 years of dissatisfaction with a repressive regime that has denied even the most basic civil liberties to its citizens. Iranians have experienced crackdowns on the clothing of women, regime dominance over private and public life, and a fundamentalist enforcement of Islam by their Government. This article aims to contextualise the mass demonstrations through an exploration of Iran’s historical path towards democracy and the West’s role in inhibiting this process. 

Foreign Involvement and “The Great Satan”

Scholars such as Stephen Kinzer argue that the 1953 U.S.-backed overthrow of Iran’s democratically elected Prime Minister, Dr. Mohammad Mossadegh, profoundly shaped Iranian resentment of the West. In 1951, the election of Mossadegh as Prime Minister was vehemently rejected by the UK, which opposed Mossadegh’s nationalisation of the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company, known today as British-Petroleum, and then the world’s largest petroleum company. While Iranians rejoiced at the prospect of finally gaining wealth from their mass oil deposits, the UK looked to the U.S. to orchestrate a coup d’état against Mossadegh, with a view to ushering in a new leader more conducive to Western interests. 

Mossadegh’s removal caused widespread discontent and hatred amongst the Iranian people, who believed they had been denied the right to their democratically elected leader: a fundamental value the West claimed to promote. Ignoring Iranian anger, the U.S. restored Mohammad Reza Shah Pahlavi, a steadfast nationalist, as the absolute ruler of Iran. For 26 years, the Shah’s authoritarian regime terrorised the Iranian people, and thousands were killed for their political persuasions. 

Iran’s current election crisis has therefore been the product of almost a century’s worth of deprivations of fundamental civil liberties, such as the right to free and fair elections, which should be representative of the will of the Iranian people. 

“Down with the Dictator, Whether He is the Shah or the Doctor [Ahmadinejad]” – Protestor’s Chant 

The Shah became a champion of the rich, utilising Iran’s pre-Islamic faith to promote Persian culture and to introduce Iran to the West. His famous celebration of Cyrus the Great’s founding of the Persian Empire at Persepolis was lavish and mesmerising. Yet he ignored his people’s cries for basic civil liberties. This has emerged as a common theme throughout Iran’s history. Today, protestors expressing their discontent with the election result have drawn a direct parallel between the authoritarianism of the Shah, and the dictatorship of the Islamic Republic.

Facebook profiles were devoted to Mousavi’s policies of change, YouTube channels captured the candidate’s campaign around Iran, and anti-Ahmadinejad blogging tirades became the dominant tools of political communication. 

Nevertheless, the Iranian people turned to religion, which seemed a reprieve from repression and poverty under the Shah. But religiosity, in turn, would result in a brutal regime that made the Shah’s dictatorship look like an inclusive democracy by comparison. What developed was the Islamic Republic, spearheaded by a man named Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, with the support of two current titanic players: Ali Khamenei and Mir-Hossein Mousavi. 

By 1979, millions of Iranians had flocked to the streets, calling for the removal of the Shah. It was not long before the Western-appointed and undemocratic Shah announced that he would be going on an indefinite vacation, never to return to Iran again. Meanwhile, Khomeini’s influence began to grow expansively, as his promises of civil liberties, free electricity and wealth for all Iranians began to permeate all aspects of the Iranian national psyche. Exploiting religion as a means to oppose the Shah’s crumbling regime, Khomeini’s Iran became an attractive alternative. 

The Islamic Republic of Iran 

By 1980, however, it had become clear that Khomeini’s promises were unfounded. As the Supreme Leader of all affairs, Khomeini was akin to the Shah: a leader with absolute power, dominating all political affairs in a burgeoning theocracy. Religious fanatics infiltrated all aspects of Iranian society, imposing radical Islam on democracy-seeking Iranians. What began as a quest for democratic freedoms became a descent into authoritarianism. 

Indeed, Khomeini’s establishment of the infamous ‘Basiji’ – a formidable voluntary police force devoted to Khomeini’s Islam – gave him access to personal thugs, who believed that it was their divine and moral responsibility to enforce radical Islam on all Iranians. Unlike the Shah’s regime, women were forced to wear headscarves and Iranian society became a mockery of democracy. 

It was during this period that Khomeini appointed the main player in the current opposition movement, Mir-Hossein Mousavi, as the Prime Minister of Iran. During his eight-year tenure, Iran’s human rights record was abysmal, and the Islamic Republic sought to solidify its rule through violence and force. 

Meanwhile, the U.S. supported and overtly encouraged its long-time ally, Iraqi president Saddam Hussein, to invade a fragile Iran. This prompted a bloody, decade-long war, in which one million Iranians were slaughtered. Iran, a mere shadow of the great Persian Empire and champion of human rights under Cyrus the Great, became a poverty-stricken country, dominated by religious fanatics who denied the most rudimentary civil liberties to its citizens. Following Khomeini’s passing, Khamenei was appointed as the new Supreme Leader, ensuring the continuation of dictatorship. 

The Failed Reformist Movement and the Return of Conservatism 

Elected consecutively between 1997 and 2005, reformist president Mohammad Khatami promised to improve Iran’s social infrastructure and civil liberties record, issues that lay at the core of the current demonstrations. Khatami’s rule, however, was constantly vetoed by the Supreme Leader and Iran became increasingly isolated within the international community as a result. This led to the election in 2005 of little-known conservative candidate Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, a hardliner who promised to realign Iran with the core values of Khomeini’s revolution. As part of his quest to return fundamentalist Islam to Iran, Ahmadinejad attempted to halt the reformist movement, and to utilise oil profits to help distribute greater wealth throughout the country, especially among the rural poor.

Neda’s death at the hands of the Basiji epitomised what the protests were all about: anger, repression and a desire for freedom. 

Under Ahmadinejad, however, Iranians continued to suffer the consequences of economic mismanagement. Oil revenues still eluded the bulk of the citizenry, with inflation exceeding 20 per cent and unemployment rising to record levels. Meanwhile, the conservative government continued to dictate the lives of Iranians in a “morality crackdown” that quashed civil rights movements before they could gain any momentum. Ahmadinejad’s anti-Western rhetoric drew increasing internal criticism, while United Nations sanctions failed to curb the regime’s nuclear program, increasing instead the economic and social hardship of the Iranian people. 

“There’s a sense of identity, and bravery to express a desire for change” – Mir-Hossein Mousavi 

This year, Iran entered the thirtieth year of the Islamic Republic and the thirtieth year of repression. With the 2009 elections in the air, widespread discontent with Ahmadinejad’s handling of the Iranian economy typified sentiment in the country. Mousavi, with the support of former reformist President Khatami, made a spectacular return to Iranian politics, running as a reformist candidate after spending 20 years in political wilderness. Unhappy with the many social freedoms lost under Ahmadinejad, Mousavi – somewhat ironically – promised to restore the Iranian economy and improve social conditions in Iran. Running on a platform of change similar to that of United States President Barack Obama, he campaigned heavily throughout Iran, often with the support of his wife, Zahra Rahnavard, capturing the support of young, freedom-hungry Iranians. 

Mousavi’s campaign utilised a new form of power never before seen in Iranian politics: that of the internet. As the third-largest blogging nation in the world, Iranian society is no stranger to the power of communication technology. Yet the 2009 elections marked the first time that the internet was used to influence the Iranian political scene.  

Facebook profiles were devoted to Mousavi’s policies of change, YouTube channels captured the candidate’s campaign around Iran, and anti-Ahmadinejad blogging tirades became the dominant tools of political communication among Iranians. Mousavi’s tech-savvy modern politics appealed to Iranians in ways the Islamic Republic had never envisioned. The Iranian youth were confident of a Mousavi victory, and many concluded that a loss for Mousavi would mean the regime had resorted to widespread electoral fraud. 

In response, the Iranian regime embarked on a mass-censorship scheme, blocking Facebook, YouTube, text messaging, and Mousavi’s general communication via the internet. The Iranian regime was attempting to silence the youth and their inspiring attempts to usher in mass social change under a repressive regime.  

“I told you that in case of cheating in the elections there would be an uprising. Now, there has been cheating, and there is an uprising in Iran” – Protestors’ Chant 

The release of election results on 12 June shocked even the most astute Iranian political commentators. Votes had been counted with impossible swiftness and ballot papers had been removed to an undisclosed location. Within one hour of polls closing, Ahmadinejad had claimed a landslide victory, with 63 per cent of the popular vote compared to Mousavi’s 33 per cent. 

It was at this historic moment that the Islamic Republic entered an unprecedented state of anarchy. Students embarked on their own campaigns of defiance against the Islamic regime. Millions of Iranians, young and old alike, poured onto the streets of major cities such as Tehran, Rasht, Ahvaz, Shiraz and Isfahan, and in subways, in universities, on rooftops, and in their cars they vented their discontent with the election results. The streets became a sea of green, as protestors demonstrated their indefatigable courage in the colour of the opposition.

People may speak different languages and come from different countries, but ultimately, the quest for freedom remains a universal one.

Claims of a “rigged vote” appeared quite justified, given the attempts by the regime to limit communication between the youth on election day, as well as Mousavi’s unlikely loss in his home town of Tabriz. Indeed, some reports suggest that Ahmadinejad captured as little as 12 per cent of the popular vote. 

Whilst it is difficult to determine with any degree of certainty whether the Islamic Republic fixed the election results, it is clear that the widespread protests reflect a deep-seated discontent with the outcome of the elections and the Iranian regime more generally. The protests represented more than an outrage at the election of Ahmadinejad. They represented the culmination of decades of suffering and pro-democracy sentiment since Mossadegh’s removal in 1953. For three decades, the Iranian people had remained quiet, for fear of repression. In 2009, change was imminent. 

However, the Islamic Republic would not merely sit back and acquiesce to this shift in power. Sending in the infamous Basiji, the Supreme Leader ordered a crackdown on protestors, who were branded “terrorists”

 carrying out the work of foreign agents. As the protests continued to grow, the Basiji responded with violence, utilising tear gas, batons and guns in an attempt to silence the Iranian people. Whilst the Basiji armed themselves with weapons, protestors drew on the power of the internet, using proxies to unblock social networking sites and upload clips reflecting the brutality of the Islamic Republic. 

Perhaps the most haunting image that came to symbolise the Iranian movement was the death of Neda Agha Soltan, captured on a mobile phone and uploaded onto YouTube. Neda’s death at the hands of the Basiji epitomised what the protests were all about: anger, repression and a desire for freedom. Her final moments as an innocent bystander were captured on camera.  

“Rumour that they are tracking high use of phone lines to find internet users – must move from here now” – Twitter Update from Iran, 8:09am, June 24 

Unlike the 1979 Islamic Revolution, technology has been critical in facilitating communication between Iranians seeking to organise mass demonstrations and spread the message of democracy throughout the country. With the click of a button, a mobile phone can capture footage of the Basiji engaged in acts of brutality. With the uploading of a video, the entire world can hear Iranians yelling: “Down with the Islamic Republic.” This is technology at its finest and it represents a new face of youth power that the Islamic Republic could not have anticipated. 

Replacing the Iranian Regime’s propaganda, these new avenues of communication have provided a raw insight into protestors’ struggles in Iran. A phenomenal reconfiguration of people power in Iran, the ‘Twitter Revolution’, or ‘Persian Uprising’, has embraced the power of technology to transcend territorial boundaries, as people from all corners of the globe witness the Iranian struggle for freedom. Mainstream Western media began to rely upon Twitter updates and live blogs within Iran as their primary sources of news. Many users of Twitter even lent their support to Iranians by changing their avatars to green.  

Inspired by the democratic efforts of the Iranian people, and motivated by solidarity, candlelight vigils all around the world have been held for those killed in the protests. The world has united in a “Where’s my vote?” campaign. Iranian expatriate singers such as Googoosh and Dariush, and entertainers Bon Jovi and U2, deliver messages of hope and peace to Iranians. The world has begun to realise that the stereotypical Western portrayal of Iranians over the past 30 years as “terrorists” is unfounded and that the regime in Iran does not represent the views of the Iranian people. The images of Iranians clamouring for freedom cannot be ignored as they continue to permeate the World Wide Web. 

“I will fight, I will die, I will take back my vote” – Protestors’ Chant 

Today, the protests in Iran continue to rage on in many shapes and forms. Although the numbers are not as large as they were on 12 June, it is clear that the people of Iran are no longer fearful of expressing their discontent with 30 years of repression under the Islamic Republic. Like the Persian Empire before it, Iran is locked in a battle that will define the path it takes in the years to come. 

Outside Iran, the world is showing unprecedented solidarity with the cry for democracy. Although the life of Neda came to a shocking end, it is important to recognise that thousands of others have been killed on Iran’s road to democracy, often with the support of countries such as the U.S. and UK, which ironically now condemn Iran’s regime. 

Unlike 1979, the technological revolution in Iran will not happen overnight. However, a progressive change has already begun. This change can be seen on the streets of Iran, in universities, and all over the internet. Three months ago, it would have been unheard of to protest against Ahmadinejad. Today, people can be found throughout Iran actively advocating the removal of the Islamic Republic. The power of technology has allowed Iranians to spread their message around the world with deafening clarity. 

“The only question now is how the end will happen – peacefully, or with civil war” – Twitter Update from Iran, 11:10am, June 23 

It is impossible to know when Iranians will achieve the ultimate goal of freedom. However, it is apparent that the world continues to be inspired by their brave and courageous efforts. People may speak different languages and come from different countries, but ultimately, the quest for freedom remains a universal one. The world is watching, and it is united for a democratic Iran. Iran is well and truly awake from the nightmare of the last 30 years and, this time, the movement is live and interactive. 

Jahan Navidi is in his second year of a combined degree in Law and International and Global Studies.

Mark Grime explores the ascendency of Mexican criminal syndicates in subverting and shaping U.S. Foreign Policy.

It is simplistic to claim that democracy has acted as the catalyst for the transfer of power from the Mexican state to drug cartels. Rather, the increasing power of drug cartels in shaping international policy is a byproduct of the institutionalisation of corruption within the Mexican state and the forces of democratisation. The cartels have infiltrated politics at the national and international levels to ensure both their security and the security of their lucrative trade. The result is that the cartels are not fighting the Government. They are fighting each other.

The Situation in Mexico: “La Plata O El Plomo”

Although the fight against drug cartels has been a part of Mexico’s political history for decades, there has been a surge in drug-related violence in recent years. This has become more evident since the democratic election of President Felipe Calderón in January 2006. In February 2009, drug-war related deaths topped 6,600; of these, approximately 5,000 were innocent civilians, more than the five-year total of U.S. casualties in Iraq. 

Drug cartels are seemingly undermining the state: infiltrating local and regional governments, targeting corrupt police officers and judicial officials, and threatening and killing independent journalists. Those in public positions often face the ultimate Faustian bargain: “la plata o el plomo” – money or death.

Is Democratisation to Blame?

From 1945, the Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI) brokered understandings with drug cartels: a patron-client relationship wherein officials and civilians were protected from cartel violence in return for high-level cartel members being insulated from prosecution. This bargain defined the rules of the game for traffickers. Although the level of institutional corruption was high, it nevertheless allowed political stability.

Heading into the twenty-first century, the PRI’s “perfect dictatorship” disintegrated, as the National Action Party garnered support for its reform platform, espousing economic liberalism, growth and transparency. Shannon O’Neil explains: “Electoral competition nullified the unwritten understandings, requiring drug lords to re-negotiate with the new political establishment and encouraging rival traffickers to bid for new market opportunities.” The end of Mexico’s one-party dominated system – driven by U.S. demands for stronger democratic institutions and a market economy – has ushered in a new wave of democratisation.

Those in public positions often face the ultimate Faustian bargain: “la plata o el plomo” – money or death. 

One may have expected such democratic processes to result in a war between the government and the drug cartels. Instead, a civil war has ensued between the cartels, all of which have so deeply infiltrated the Government that the term ‘corruption’ has lost all of its descriptive power.  

Subversion of U.S. Foreign Policy

In 2008, the U.S. launched the Mérida Initiative, granting $1.4 billion in police and military aid to the Mexican Government to combat the drug cartels. Undoubtedly, these funds will assist the very institutions that have been infiltrated by the cartels. Thus, U.S. ‘support’ in the drug war continually and directly feeds the drug cartels, which siphon funds from government coffers to fuel their violent campaigns.

Moreover, the United States’ agenda for promoting democratisation south of the border is exacerbating the violence. As mentioned, the rebirth of democracy in Mexico has forced a ‘re-negotiation’ of previously unwritten agreements between the cartels and the state. Therefore, the continued insulation and support of the U.S. for Calderón’s democracy is likely to propel drug violence further, as U.S. support allows the cartels to retain control of their respective territories.

The Result

The drug cartels are using the Mexican state as a puppet to influence U.S. foreign policy objectives, to create conditions favourable to the cartels. In doing so, the cartels can leverage their position with the Government to demand more capital input by the U.S. into the Mérida Initiative, and therefore continue their violent campaigns to secure dominance and to protect their lucrative trade.

The drug cartels are using the Mexican state as a puppet to influence U.S. foreign policy objectives, to create conditions favourable to the cartels.

Although U.S. policy initiatives are well-intentioned, the high level of institutionalised corruption within the Mexican state has allowed subversion to support excessive violence, adding to existing oppressive conditions, and leading to further destabilisation of the state.

However, the Mexican drug war is not a zero-sum game between the state and the cartels. Rather, the cartels have been able to manipulate policies for their own benefit to elevate their influence within the Mexican Government and influence U.S. foreign policy towards Mexico. Felipe Calderón’s election represented democratic progress, removing much pre-existing institutionalised corruption.

Victory in Mexico’s drug war will be dependent on the state’s ability to further consolidate democracy and eradicate corruption from its institutions. Until then, the drug cartels of Mexico will continue to command a powerful position within regional policy development. So long as the re-infiltration of the state apparatus is necessary to secure their lucrative trade, the cartels will continue to subvert U.S. policy by instigating anarchy.

Mark Grime is in his fourth year of a combined degree in Law and Economic and Social Sciences, majoring in Government and International Relations.

Lukasz Swiatek examines power between global players in the HIV/AIDS pandemic. 

In a New Delhi hospital, Loon Gangte was waiting to collect HIV medication. The queue was long; the wait had lasted over an hour. When he finally reached the window and presented his prescription, the nurse on duty ordered him back to the end of the line. At first, Gangte could not understand why he was being discriminated against. “Much later I realized that my HIV-positive status compelled her to single me out and treat me differently,” he explains in an interview for UNODC. “During those days, if you were living with HIV, it [the prescription paper] was stamped prominently ‘HIV – Positive’.”

Such scenarios of discrimination are common around the world. They also reveal a unique form of power – ‘biopower’ – in action. Michel Foucault, the French scholar who developed this concept, contended that the politics of biopower regulate life itself. One of the issues in which this idea is most prominent is the global HIV/AIDS pandemic.

Rethinking Power 

HIV/AIDS now affects an unprecedented number of people worldwide. At a September World Health Organization Sub-Regional workshop in Gaborone, it was revealed that the number of AIDS-affected victims had dramatically risen from eight million in 1990 to 33 million today.

The pandemic has also become a crucial issue for international actors. Its importance was underscored on 10 January 2000, when the United Nations Security Council put aside traditional conflict and security issues to consider the implications of the spread of the disease. As international relations scholar Stefan Elbe notes, “the Council had never before considered an illness to pose a threat to international peace and security”. The meeting was therefore “unprecedented”, made even more symbolic by being the first sitting of the Council in the new millennium.

Political leaders and organisations have clearly grasped the significance of issues such as HIV/AIDS for international peace and security. This, in turn, has signalled a shift in the way in which the concept of power is understood. 

Political leaders and organisations have since clearly grasped the significance of issues such as HIV/AIDS for international peace and security. This, in turn, has signalled a shift in the way in which the concept of power is understood. In international relations, power has traditionally been understood – or is commonly understood – in realist and neorealist terms. From this perspective, it operates at the level of the state, and states – as sovereign entities – seek to maximise their power. They do so through self-help, due to the fact that they operate in an anarchic system.

“In this model, power is something that is possessed and wielded,” notes international relations scholar Andrew Neal. “If a state has more power, it is more free to act, if it has less power, it is more constrained. Military capabilities and economic strength are often taken as measures of this kind of state power. However, this particular explanation of power is limiting. Foucault understood this, and instead posited a radical alternative.

Foucauldian Power

Power, Foucault suggested, might be better understood as a set of relations, inherent in all social interaction and, indeed, society’s construction. Power, he indicated, “reaches into the very grain of individuals … and inserts itself into their actions and attitudes, their discourses, learning processes and everyday lives”. For Foucault, relations of power transform the individual into a controllable body, or ‘subject’. This occurs through the twin processes of disciplining and surveillance, which normalise subjects, and compel them to behave in socially acceptable ways. Where deviance is exposed, correction is applied.

This notion of power also contains another important dimension: that of biopower. The term, coined by Foucault in his lectures at the Collège de France in the 1970s, extends these notions to the regulation of life itself. Foucault explained that, in the eighteenth century, starvation and plagues – the most common causes of death at the time – became less of a concern for populations, thanks to advances in agricultural productivity. Because of this, the “randomness of death” disappeared, and society was able to concentrate more on developing better conditions for living. Consequently, with its concern for life, biopower became the “acquisition of power over man [sic] insofar as man is a living being”.

At the same time, this regulation of life became ‘governmentalised’, that is, it became “elaborated, rationalised, and centralised in the form of, or under the auspices of, state institutions”. By developing techniques and methods to study the health of its populations, governments were able to enact policies that benefited life. These policies made their populations healthier and more productive. For this reason, Foucault scholar John S. Ransom conceives biopolitics – the governance of populations through biopower – as the “science of policing”. It can also be a productive tool; indeed, it has proven to be positive in dealing with HIV/AIDS.

Beneficial Biopower

The positive side of biopower is readily evident in many efforts to deal with the pandemic. In particular, the “science of policing” has led actors to collect and manage data about the extent and spread of HIV/AIDS. As Stefan Elbe notes, national governments and international organisations have made “the health and longevity of their populations a matter of highest governmental priority”. The World Health Organization and the Joint United Nations Programme on HIV/AIDS have been particularly active in their monitoring efforts.

It is also no coincidence that a whole host of organisations is combating the pandemic. As Foucault explained, the health of all becomes a priority for all, and biopower is consequently “exercised through a net-like organisation”. This too is evident internationally, with non-governmental organisations, policy institutes, transnational corporations, foundations and universities uniting to fight the disease.

In regulating the wellbeing of whole populations, governments and international organisations necessarily make certain groups and individuals into ‘problem’ cases.

In some countries, biopolitical actions have yielded dividends. Brazil is a case in point. Its former president, Fernando Henrique Cardoso, instigated numerous social reform policies between 1995 and 2003, including an HIV/AIDS Prevention Program. The government guaranteed access to antiretroviral medicines, introduced prevention campaigns, and increased communication with non-governmental organisations. Cardoso’s successor, the current president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, has maintained these policies.

In some countries, biopolitical actions have yielded dividends. Brazil is a case in point. Its former president, Fernando Henrique Cardoso, instigated numerous social reform policies between 1995 and 2003, including an HIV/AIDS Prevention Program. The government guaranteed access to antiretroviral medicines, introduced prevention campaigns, and increased communication with non-governmental organisations. Cardoso’s successor, the current president Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, has maintained these policies.

“Two decades ago, it would have been hard to imagine finding an upside to an HIV crisis of the scope that Brazil had on its hands. The World Bank estimated that 1.2 million Brazilians would be infected by the turn of the century – by far the highest number of any country in the region,” notes public policy scholar Eduardo J. Gómez in a Foreign Policy article. “Today, there is plenty of good news to go around. Thanks to aggressive intervention, Brazil has only about half as many HIV cases as predicted.” Brazil’s story, unlike other nations’, has been one of progress and hope. Yet in every country, negative biopolitical forces are also at work, and have sometimes produced sinister results.

Detrimental Biopower

In regulating the wellbeing of whole populations, governments and international organisations necessarily make certain groups and individuals into ‘problem’ cases. As Elbe explains, government policy “constitutes disease – and by extension the diseased – as a social and political problem that needs to be addressed”. Often, however, no indication is provided about how best to address such problems.

For example, former South African President Thabo Mbeki was widely criticised over his government’s handling of the AIDS virus in his country. A 2008 Harvard University study revealed that as many as 365,000 South Africans had died prematurely because antiretroviral drugs had not been provided to AIDS patients and pregnant women.

Biopolitics also fosters normalisation. Elbe notes that “by subtly directing the behaviour of individuals and populations towards a determined ‘healthy’ norm”, societies identify deviants, who are consequently subjected to discrimination. In the United States, these deviants include groups such as haemophiliacs, heroin addicts, Haitians and sex workers. In Muslim countries, any individual who contracts AIDS is likely to be stigmatised. In a 2005 Foreign Policy article, Laura M. Kelley and Nicholas Eberstadt reported that in Muslim countries, AIDS victims find little community support, even from their closest friends and family. In Iran for example, “nearly 60 percent of HIV-positive citizens take their own lives within the first year of their diagnosis”, as they face little chance of acceptance.

Another negative aspect of biopower is ‘new racism’. Foucault reasoned that, after identifying deviants to the norm, societies would separate those who should live from those who should die. In essence, as Elbe explains, biopower “pits the ‘healthy’ members of the population against the ‘unhealthy’ who are deemed to sap the strength and vitality of the population as a whole”. Many reports document cases of immigrants with HIV/AIDS who have been denied entry into certain countries; of others who have been quarantined; and of hopeful military recruits who have been denied entry into armies on the basis of their HIV-positive status.

However, biopolitical racism is not particular to the AIDS pandemic. In past centuries, it has been sanctioned as a method of population control, formalised through eugenics. Nazi Germany’s elimination of populations that did not conform to its vision of a ‘pure’ Aryan race – including Jews, Roma, communists, criminals, homosexuals and the handicapped – was perhaps the acme of such biopolitical racism, and the most dangerous and haunting testament to such policies.

The Limits of Biopower 

Foucault’s theories of power have always been contested. Biopower is no exception. Sociologist Craig Calhoun has argued that Foucault’s theories relating to power contain no criteria for “distinguishing legitimate from illegitimate power”. Equally, he contends, they are too general, unable to “achieve historical specificity” or grasp the particular traits of different cultures.

Nevertheless, Foucault’s ideas provide insightful explanations for many political issues, such as the international HIV/AIDS pandemic. And when it comes to power, international relations scholar Cynthia Weber emphasises that states are no longer the only – or most significant – actors in international politics. Power operates as much ‘from above’ as it does ‘from below’, recognising that “individuals, too, end up constructing the very orders that construct them”.

Lukasz Swiatek is in his fourth year of a Bachelor of Arts (Media and Communications) degree.

Sophia Chen, Daniel Liu and Richard Liu look at the changing face of China’s foreign relations, military, and political transparency.

In August 2009, the 2.3 million-member People’s Liberation Army (PLA) of China began a public relations campaign aimed at increasing the transparency of the world’s largest standing military. The PLA consists of the army, navy and air force, which are all under the direct control of the Chinese Communist Party. The start of this campaign coincided with the conclusion of bilateral talks between China and the United States. Is this campaign indicative of real change in Chinese foreign policy?

A New Public Face

The media blitz comes at a low point in the PLA’s public relations. From the Tiananmen Square massacres to the recent unrest in Xinjiang, the PLA has gained a reputation as the Communist Party’s heavy hand of subjugation. In March 2009, the PLA officer of the Secondary Artillery Corps stated: “Our Military has always had a bad reputation, here and abroad. The outside world does not see our perspective. If they do, they will understand the actions China has taken.”

The Chinese Ministry of Defence made its debut on the internet in August 2009, when it promised to present “a better perception of China’s national defence policy and display before the world the fine image of the PLA as a mighty, civilized and peaceful force”. This announcement coincided with the launch of China’s Naval Officer exchange program with Japan, South Korea and Germany.

Is this an attempt by China to evade its history of brutality and oppression? Or is this indicative of real change within the Chinese military and political establishment? The answer remains unclear.

As China becomes increasingly engaged with the global community and the international economy, their interests also become increasingly aligned.  

On the one hand, there are indications that China is actively engaging in collective security. It has a small but constant peacekeeping and nation-building presence in Africa, and the PLA Navy has joined in international efforts to combat piracy in the Gulf of Aden, off the coast of Somalia. China’s new peacekeeping role within the international community marks a turn-around from its history of brutality and oppression. On the other hand, China has concrete, strategic interests in Asia’s sea-lanes, as well as a major commitment to its own military strength. Chinese naval expansion and force projection in the Pacific will continue to fuel insecurity among China’s neighbours unless, and until, it is addressed through dialogue, rather than oppression.

Economic Liberalisation

Proponents of economic liberalisation theory point to the history of Chinese economic liberalisation as the catalyst for broad, substantive change within Chinese society, and more specifically within the military. As China becomes increasingly engaged with the global community and the international economy, their interests also become increasingly aligned. Moreover, China is more frequently expected to meet Western democratic standards of political accountability and economic transparency.

Prior to 1978, under Mao Zedong’s foreign policy of ‘self-reliance’, China was an enclosed nation that lacked economic and social transparency. Since the reforms by Deng Xiaoping, the country has become more liberalised, allowing for both direct and indirect foreign investment. China has become an integral member of the global community and has been a driving force behind the economic growth during the boom years. Economic transparency was a major theme in the recent bilateral discussions.

However, in the realm of foreign relations and governance, transparency is still a major issue. The latest U.S. Congress report on Chinese foreign policy admitted that the “study of China’s international influence is hampered by a lack of reliable data”. Much of the international community continues to criticise the lack of oversight of aid by government agencies to African countries, including international pariahs such as Sudan and Zimbabwe.

However, any discussion on transparency in China cannot exclude reference to the recent issues in Xinjiang.

China argues that it has shifted towards greater transparency, with extensive live state-media coverage of the unrest in Xinjiang provided to its citizens in China and around the world. This is an unprecedented move considering the country’s history of censorship, and a clear step towards freedom of press.

Yet the West is still critical of Chinese media’s selective reporting. Yaling Zhao, a media student from Peking University, argues that the media’s objective is not merely to convey the news, for it “also has the responsibility of inducing social stability”. The Western media, he argues, blow the facts out of proportion. Zhao poses the question: “Is showing decapitated heads, the most devastating pictures, and portraying an event in the most exaggerated way good for anyone?”

China will need to uphold the rule of law and due process to win back the respect of the international community.

The challenge for China’s public image now is to present transparent and just court proceedings for all 718 people detained since the outbreak of violence in Xinjiang on 5 July. China will need to uphold the rule of law and due process to win back the respect of the international community.

Strong Arm Diplomacy

The latest events in Sino-Australian relations present serious challenges for China.

The new image of might was projected clearly by the Chinese Government in the recent Rio Tinto incident, where the failed investment bid by the state-owned Chinalco led to the arrest of four Rio Tinto employees in China. Arguably, China is re-embracing hard power against the backdrop of a savvy age of soft power.

However, there is more to the Rio Tinto iron ore lawsuit than what appears to be a criminal prosecution undertaken in the hard-line Chinese totalitarian way. Western countries criticised China’s treatment of Stern Hu and his three Rio Tinto colleagues, who were held for more than four weeks without charge. It should be noted, though, that the politics behind this situation were complex.

If one thing is clear, it is that China seeks to develop its economy above all other considerations. Where the matter is one of economic interest, China flexes its muscles, straining relationships with its traditional trading partners (including Australia). Many have cited this incident as evidence of China making an example of Australia in order to project a tougher diplomatic face when it comes to economics.

Recent clinks between China and Australia began when Chinalco increased its share in the world-class minerals assets of Rio Tinto in a $25 billion deal. Beijing was displeased with the political wariness with which it was greeted by the Australian Government. Although the Australian Government did not block the deal, it did impose conditions on smaller takeovers of other resource assets by Chinese state-owned companies. The political atmosphere was tense and Rio Tinto was not the only party that sensed it. But leaving the bargaining table certainly ended the affair on a much worse note. Is it surprising that Chinese leaders decided to make this rebuff an opportunity to teach a lesson to Rio Tinto, Australia and anyone else watching?

After all, the Gorgon gas deal – in which PetroChina agreed to buy $50 billion worth of liquefied natural gas from ExxonMobil – was struck less than a week after charges of commercial espionage and bribery were laid against Stern Hu. With such a large buying power, China can afford to blow political and diplomatic capital with Australia to make noise during the Melbourne Film Festival and the visit to Australia by Uighur leader Rebiya Kadeer.

Although the future of this rising superpower in the Asia Pacific remains uncertain, it is clear that China has a growing economic presence. The new face of China is none too soft and adaptable. The economy is at the heart of Chinese interests, yet the challenge the country’s Government needs to overcome is to project a more mature and pragmatic diplomatic face on the international plane.

Sophia Chen is in her second year of a combined degree in Law and Arts, majoring in Government and International Relations and Spanish. Daniel Liu is in his fourth year of a combined degree in Science and Arts, majoring in Biochemistry and Government and International Relations. Richard Liu is in his fourth year of a combined degree in Economics and Commerce, majoring in Accounting, Business Law and Financial Economics. 

May Samali exposes the Iranian Government’s denial of higher education to Baha’i students.

The concept of power is fundamental to political science.

According to American political scientist Amy Allen, power features three distinct senses: power-over, power-to and power-with. Power-over is the ability of an actor to constrain the choices available to another actor. Power-to is the ability of an individual actor to attain an end or a series of ends. Power-with is the ability of a collectivity to act together for the attainment of a common end. Each type of power relation represents a particular modality of power, which may be present in any one situation at the same time. Although Allen’s integrated theory of power was originally developed to overcome the inadequacies of one-dimensional accounts of feminist power, it is equally applicable to the study of power relations beyond the feminist context.

In this article, Allen’s tripartite account of power relations is used as a framework to analyse a discriminatory policy enacted by the Iranian Government against the 350,000 member Baha’i community, the largest non-Islamic religious minority in the country. The policy concerns the Iranian Government’s denial of higher education to Baha’is in Iran. This policy was revealed in a confidential memorandum of the Iranian Supreme Revolutionary Cultural Revolutionary Council in 1991, which stated: “Baha’i’s cannot enroll in universities and higher education centres.” This policy was implemented against the background of the Islamic government’s constant and ongoing persecution of Baha’is in Iran.

Since the 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran, Baha’is have been subjected to attack, intimidation and discrimination, solely on account of their religious beliefs. However, recent media accounts of the situation of the Iranian Baha’is focus solely on the Islamic government’s power over the Baha’i population. Such a narrow conceptualisation of power overlooks the different elements of power in this situation. Therefore, Allen’s second and third senses of power serve as analytical tools to explain the power of individual Baha’is to resist government policies and the power that Baha’is collectively exercise with one another.

Since the 1979 Islamic Revolution in Iran, Baha’is have been subjected to attack, intimidation and discrimination, solely on account of their religious beliefs.

I. Power Over

By strategically constraining the actions of Baha’is through the implementation of a discriminatory policy, the Iranian Government exercises power over Baha’is. This educational policy in Iran can be analysed through the lens of domination, which is a particular application of power understood as power-over. Domination is the ability of an actor or set of actors to constrain the choices of another actor or set of actors in a non-trivial way that works to the others’ disadvantage.

The Iranian Government’s ability to prevent Baha’is from attending institutions of higher education, which creates educational disadvantage, represents power as domination. The first piece of evidence, which substantiates the idea that Baha’i students are subjects of religious domination, is the fact that 191 Baha’is were denied entry to university in 2006, solely on the basis of their religious identity. Second, out of the 178 Baha’i students admitted to universities for the 2006/2007 academic year, 70 were expelled in March 2007, when the universities concerned became aware of their religion. Diane Ala’i, representative of the Baha’i International Community (BIC) at the United Nations in Geneva, states: “those who have been expelled or denied registration at the university of their choice clearly indicate the issue is their Baha’i identity.”

The policy adopted by the Iranian government entrenches a relationship of domination. It ensures that Baha’is are excluded or expelled from universities, either in the admission process or during the course of their studies, once their religious affiliation becomes known. Furthermore, the policy of the Iranian Government, which pressures Baha’i students to convert to Islam in order to receive tertiary education, is indicative of the Iranian Government’s intent to destroy the Baha’i community.

Therefore, recent policies have established the means by which the Iranian government may exercise power over Baha’is. However, this is not an adequate basis upon which to conclude that Baha’is in Iran, as the subjects of domination, are without power in general. To claim that Baha’is in Iran are altogether ‘powerless’ is to ignore the theoretical resources required for an adequate conceptualisation of Baha’i resistance to domination. An analysis of power relations through the lens of domination reveals only one side of the story.

II. Power-To

In order to understand adequately the power that individual Baha’is exercise as a response to domination by the Iranian Government, it is necessary to view power through the lens of resistance. The reluctance of Baha’is in Iran to renounce their religious faith in order to gain admittance to institutions of higher education or to qualify for identification cards represents resistance, which is a particular application of power understood as power-to. Resistance is the ability of an individual actor to attain an end, or a series of ends, that serve to subvert domination. In this case study, individual defiance is explained by the idea that, in the Baha’i faith, the false declaration of one’s religion is tantamount to the denial of one’s faith.

The resistance of individual Baha’i students to the Iranian Government policy is demonstrated by their active refusal to be listed as ‘Muslims’ in university application forms. Although Baha’is are repeatedly offered relief from discrimination in exchange for a conversion to Islam, they refuse to recant their faith.

Ultimately, the refusal of Iranian Baha’i’s to recant their faith in order to gain university entrance serves to subvert domination. The resistance exemplified by individual Baha’is highlights the significant role of individual agency in undermining the government’s efforts to eradicate the Baha’i Faith in Iran. This case study also confirms the fact that domination and resistance, as different forms of power, should not be regarded as opposed to one another. This is because the relationship of domination has also empowered Baha’is, by positioning them as subjects who are endowed with the capacity to act.

Michel Foucault’s theory of power highlights this dialectical interplay between power-over and power-to in all power relations. Therefore, the application of Allen’s approach to power as resistance is useful for understanding how members of subordinated groups, such as Iranian Baha’is, retain the power to act despite their subordination. However, it is also necessary to consider the power that emerges from collective resistance to domination.

III. Power-With

The collective response of Iranian and international Baha’i communities, as well as civil society groups and foreign governments, to the situation of the Baha’is in Iran can be labelled as power-with. Power-with is the sense that informs Hannah Arendt’s definition of power as “the human ability not just to act but to act in concert”. Since the 1980s, various organisations and governments have pressured the Iranian Government to reverse its discriminatory policies against Baha’is. The ability of this collectivity to act together for the attainment of this common end represents solidarity, which signifies a particular application of power understood as power-with.

Individuals can be both dominated and empowered at the same time.

Exclusive solidarity, which is limited to groups suffering from oppression, is epitomised by the collective actions of the Iranian Baha’i community, which has established the Baha’i Institute for Higher Education (BIHE). BIHE is an independent, full-fledged, yet completely decentralised, university system, run by Bahá’í teachers, professionals and volunteers for Baha’i students. This underground university represents the creative and wholly non-violent response of Iranian Baha’is to the systematic denial of access to higher education. Through the international network of Baha’i communities, the BIHE has also established the means by which its graduates will be recognised by more than 25 institutions of higher education outside Iran. Therefore, this example of collective resistance substantiates Allen’s argument that “having power-with presupposes having power-to”, as the collective capacity of Iranian Baha’is to act to attain the shared end of higher education presupposes Baha’is having the individual capacity to resist the discriminatory government policy in the first place.

On the other hand, the ability of Baha’is to work with international organisations and foreign governments to achieve collective goals represents inclusive solidarity. Inclusive solidarity accommodates individuals or groups who develop common causes with oppressed groups. For example, almost every year since 1982, the United Nations General Assembly has adopted a resolution on the human rights situation in Iran, which has expressed “serious concern” for the denial of higher education for Baha’i’s in Iran. In addition, the United States Congress has passed Senate and House Resolutions that call for the emancipation of Baha’is in Iran. As specific evidence of solidarity, Provision 2(c) of Senate Concurrent Resolution 101 in 2006 requests the U.S. President to “initiate an active and consistent dialogue with other governments and the European Union” in order to persuade the Iranian government to rectify its discriminatory policies against Baha’is. Therefore, this broader collectivity is bound together not by a shared identity, but by the promise to work together to attain certain political goals.

The ultimate goal of the collectivity is to reverse the policy against Baha’is in Iran, rather than to put Baha’is in a position to exact revenge against the Iranian Government. Power is generated when individuals act in concert to overcome domination by another party, regardless of whether such an objective is actually achieved. Therefore, the fact that collective action has not led to change in government policy in Iran does not undermine the power of the collectivity. Arendt proposes that “power springs up between people” simply because “they act together”. Therefore, simply by remaining together, individuals in the collectivity “keep alive” power, an idea that is ignored under a narrow definition of power as domination. Alternatively, the conception of power as power-with offers a dimension of power that is more compatible with notions of empowering human relationships.

Conclusion

Allen’s three senses of power encourage a more holistic understanding of the power play between the Iranian Government and the Baha’i population. Conceptualising power in this multi-dimensional way not only illuminates the diverse experiences of Baha’is with power, but also highlights the inadequacy of approaches that investigate only one side of power. A one-sided approach renders each conception of power incapable of making sense of the complex power relations in contemporary society, which are such that individuals can be both dominated and empowered at the same time. The ultimate conclusion is that power-over, power-to, and power-with are not ontologically exclusive, for all three can be manifest in one and the same interaction. As proven by the case study, Allen’s three senses of power represent analytically distinguishable features of a single situation.

May Samali is in her fifth year of a combined degree in Law and Arts, majoring in Government and International Relations.

Mekela Panditharatne explores the evolving power of the nation-state in a post-globalised world.

For many of us, the concept of ‘the nation’ is an almost subconscious vector of identity, and the nation-state system a somewhat rudimentary compass that we use to orient ourselves economically, culturally and socially in a world that grudgingly humours our human need to compartmentalise. Yet if it were ever possible to identify a period in the past in which one could understand national processes as independent phenomena, governed by localised mechanisms and existing outside global variables, clearly this is no longer the case.

The modern world is one of multiple and motley interconnections between nations and regions, where mundane experiences on a local scale may be rooted in events many thousands of kilometres away. The immense irony of this is that the nation-state in this modern world is nonetheless proving to be vexingly tenacious in its hold over conceptions of geopolitical power, if not in the exercise of actual power in any tangible sense.

How may we resolve this seemingly dichotomous position in which the nation finds itself today: this state of quasi-limbo in which it teeters precariously between the seductive serenades of the neo-liberal economy and the dogmatic demands of an increasingly socialised working class? Perhaps the answer is that understanding globalisation as it is presented to us by state institutions necessarily involves a ‘dialectic’ of opposing principles. This requires us to conceive of the global as a specific type of discourse, carefully constructed to mould and transform the power of the state. It is almost as if state actors – presaging the precipice of redundancy – have recognised that, instead of back-pedalling against the tide of globalisation, they should work to ensure that the relationship between nations and the globe remains mutually constituting at both the practical and conceptual levels.

The modern world is one of multiple and motley interconnections between nations and regions, where mundane experiences on a local scale may be rooted in events many thousands of kilometres away.

The way in which this works is disarmingly subtle. At first glance, the arena of modern global rhetoric seems to be awash with metaphors of global proximity, from Marshall McLuhan’s well-worn term ‘global village’, to the United Nations maxim ‘our global neighbourhood’. As Brian Tomlinson observes, the word ‘global’ itself seems to convey an envelopment of nations and individuals by the spherical cast of the earth. Globalisation consequently describes modern spatial dimensions as consistently pushing outwards, beyond the nation and towards the regional and global.

However, the discursive lens through which we view globalisation is also unmistakeably formed through a stubborn fixation with the national, and with the interpretation of ‘global’ as ‘international’. Labour migration, financial and commodity trading, and international trading agreements are all global; yet they simultaneously confirm the existence of the national. The United Nations is, after all, an international body structured around the nation-state system, and while its purpose may be informed by an abstract paradigm of global unity, this is balanced uneasily against the need to express principles of sovereignty and cultural difference. This is perhaps the reason why discussions on the creation of a global currency seem unlikely to progress, and why the corporate accumulation of capital continues to be defined nationally, rather than globally.

So why do we continue our wilful fixation with the nation and all things national? Benedict Anderson, in his seminal work on ‘imagined communities’, theorises that the mental image by which one envisages communal affinity with one’s fellow compatriot is a product of modernity, and is carefully constructed to meet political and economic ends. As such, a nation was and is “an imagined political community [that is] imagined as both inherently limited and sovereign”. Anthony Smith tentatively agrees with this analysis that the concept of the nation is in many senses fictitious: “Nations were built and forged by state elites or intelligentsias or capitalists; like the Scots kilt or the British Coronation ceremony, they are composed of so many invented traditions.” However, he also proposes that there is a tangible basis for national feeling, which is contingent upon the sense of collectivity shared by people inhabiting the same location, and encompasses “feelings and values in respect of a sense of continuity, shared memories and a sense of common destiny”.

Let us consider for a moment the disciplinary roots of the state as a geopolitical entity.  Geographer Peter Taylor has criticised the ‘embedded statism’ that he claims defines the mainstream social sciences and that has had the effect of nationalising knowledge. He suggests that disciplines like political science, economics and sociology have, until recently, failed to understand the extent to which they are actually creatures of the states, owing their very processes to a particular historical configuration. In this way, the cooperative partnership between state as political “power container”, and nation as constituting the roots of cultural identity (presupposing that it has some primordial ethnic core), results in the naturalisation of the nation-state, so that it becomes, in some abstract way, synonymous with other natural spatial features like “rivers, mountain ranges and coastlines”. Hence, by “being ‘natural’, states precluded all other social worlds, and the spatiality of fragmented sovereignty became ingrained in modern society”.

The question that then leaves itself to be pondered is whether, and to what extent, economic, social and political actors have constructed, and continue to construct, the idea of the nation as an endemic vector of identity. Dick Bryan argues that there is nothing ‘natural’ about the nation as an economic entity. Rather, the nation is continually being created and reproduced tangent to the dominant ideology of the time. Hence, globalisation as a Janus-faced phenomenon has confounded economic conceptions of the dynamics of the world, shaking the perception of national identity as synonymous with economic identity. Impoverished Mexican farmers are left scratching their heads as the El Dorado promised by the global vision of NAFTA crumbles to dust, despite the mirage of a strengthened national economy.

The paradigmatic modern experience of mobility might well seem to undermine the static nature of the state, were it not for the empirical existence of key points of difference between nations. Yet these very points of difference – regulation, taxes and currency – which are constructed and maintained by nation-states, serve to justify the measurable existence of the nation as an economic unit. As Bryan states: “The nationalist assumption generates the nationalist policies that in turn create national differences that in turn justify the assumption. This is a self-fulfilling framework.” The difficulty then is how to depart from these innate assumptions so as not to evaluate nations and nationalism purely on their own terms.

It could … be argued that the diverse textures of everyday cultural practices are still defined more by the local than the global.

One possible solution is offered by proponents of the free market, who construe the policy and regulatory differences between nations as ‘distortions’ in the global economy. States are believed to inhibit the free flow of capital and therefore prevent competition in its truest sense. In this light, the nation is seen to be a unit that is anachronistic in the modern economy, a concept that is nostalgically retained in our cultural imagination, but which holds little meaning in a globalised world.

An essential point here is that in a globalised society, territorial borders, whilst not entirely meaningless, might well be redrawn to more accurately represent collective interests. Japanese business strategist Kenichi Ohmae is one such advocate of reconstituting territorial demarcation: “Traditional nation states have become unnatural, even impossible, business units in a global economy.” He suggests, instead, that we should think of a world of regional economies, “where the real work gets done and the real markets flourish”. Ohmae explains: “What defines [these regional economies] is not the location of their political borders but the fact that they are the right size and scale to be the true natural business units in today’s global economy. Theirs are the borders – and the connections – that matter in a borderless world.”

Whilst the view that nations are becoming dispensable and powerless entities might seem attractive in its transcendence of the statist grand narrative, perhaps this may prove to be equally limited in its unilateral approach. Though global processes unmistakeably dislocate individual experiences through transnational corporate enterprise and global finance, it could also be argued that the diverse textures of everyday cultural practices are still defined more by the local than the global. The justification for this might be as simple as the observation that, despite increasing global mobility, physical distance continues to be an operative factor in our lives. Consider Marc Augé’s proposal: “When an international flight crosses Saudi Arabia, the hostess announces that during the over flight the drinking of alcohol will be forbidden in the aircraft. This signifies the intrusion of territory into space. Land = society = nation = culture = religion: the equation of anthropological place, fleetingly inscribed in space.”

Thus, there is an inherent danger in formulating theories at a sweeping and abstract level, so as to dismiss key inferences that may be drawn from an examination of politics and culture at a specific and local level. That is not to say that we should discount the very significant strides that global society is taking towards homogeneity in cultural and economic standards, but rather that we should not take this to be some sort of linear, numerical process by which diversity will have been eliminated by X number of years.

The debate over whether the nation is the ‘natural’ economic and cultural unit will no doubt continue to attract vehement discussion, played out on the world stage through the creation of regional economic blocs and ethnic battles for autonomy. However, as alternative spatial conceptions of the global currently exist in tandem with the state-centred paradigm, and until nations find themselves on the outer edges of popular and academic discourse, they are unlikely to lose their power and influence.

Mekela Panditharatne is in her first year of a combined degree in Law and International and Global Studies, majoring in Government and International Relations.

William Han explores the evolution of the ‘war on terrorism’ in Afghanistan and Iraq and the dilemma of achieving victory on these battlegrounds. 

In November 2007, Robert Gates, the Secretary of Defense, presented the case for strengthening U.S. soft power and learning to integrate it with hard power, warning that “military success is not sufficient to win”. It was a moment of catharsis: a cleansing after years of failed unilateral foreign and military policies under Donald Rumsfeld. The patriarchal rhetoric about defeating “adversaries at the time, place and in the manner of our choosing” is gone. Similarly, the objectives of eradicating terrorism by “staying on the offensive [and] destroying terrorists” have seen a similar demise. Instead, under Gates, ‘softer’ goals have emerged, of minimising the effects of terrorism by “discrediting extremist ideology, creating fissures between and among extremist groups and reducing them to the level of nuisance groups that can be tracked and handled by law enforcement capabilities”.

Significantly, these changes are the product of a growing self-awareness within the U.S. The ‘superpower’ of our time has finally recognised its financial and military limitations. The financial costs of the ‘war against terrorism’ in Afghanistan and Iraq have been staggering: between 2003 and 2008, the Iraq War cost the U.S. approximately $608.3 billion, while it is estimated that the war in Afghanistan has cost $162.6 billion since 2001. Joseph Stiglitz, the former Chief Economist of the World Bank and winner of the 2001 Nobel Prize in Economics, calculated in 2008 that the U.S. will spend in excess of three trillion dollars in Iraq, a figure based on “conservative assumptions” that “probably errs on the low side”.

Naturally, this pressure is not limited to economic resources. The predominant attitude within the military seems to be that the demands of the Iraq War have “stretched the U.S. military dangerously thin”, according to almost 90 per cent of the 3,400 active and retired officers surveyed in 2008. This belief is supported by a classified 2008 Pentagon assessment, which stated that there remains a “significant” risk that the strained U.S. military cannot quickly and fully respond to another conflict elsewhere in the world. Most alarmingly, 44 per cent of the officers expressed agreement with the statement that “the demands of the war in Iraq have broken the U.S. military”. The belief in the efficacy of American military power to mould and control events, to project ‘hard’ power around the world, has been shaken to its core.

The belief in the efficacy of American military power to mould and control events, to project ‘hard’ power around the world, has been shaken to its core.

As illustrated in Iraq and Afghanistan – low intensity, asymmetric wars – the advantages provided by technological and conventional military supremacy mean little if such advantages cannot be adapted rapidly to the environment. By definition, asymmetric warfare is a strategy of last resort: a reaction to the military and economic supremacy of the enemy. The proponents of modern asymmetric warfare attempt to exploit the inherent weaknesses associated with conventional military strength – the inability to respond quickly and with a softer touch – to bleed and drain the enemy. Consequently, a less ‘conventional’ hard power strategy is required: one that blends elements of soft power and ‘smarter’, more flexible, forms of hard power. After years of experiential learning, the strategies of the U.S.-led coalition in the two battlegrounds today show signs of greater initiative, efficiency and effectiveness. Nonetheless, the latest strategies employed by the U.S. in Afghanistan and Iraq carry inherent risks.

The Strategy of Cooperation and Isolation

One of the primary drivers for the success of the ‘surge’ in Iraq has been the cooperation between ‘insurgent’ tribal political and religious leaders with U.S.-coalition forces on the ground. The transformation of the Iraqi province of Anbar, from being the source of the most violent insurgent attacks against U.S. forces in 2007, to being one of the safest in 2009, illustrates the potential multiplier effect of soft power on hard power-focused strategies.

Where the original policy of military unilateralism was based on the assumption that tribes would choose to ‘bandwagon’ onto those with superior hard power, hindsight illustrates that, in the context of Afghanistan and Iraq, ‘mutual’ interest was not created through U.S. military strength. Rather, mutual interest only arose when the tribes began to perceive the ubiquitous and intransigent presence of al-Qaida, and not the coalition forces, as the greater threat to their autonomy. Despite the appearance of U.S. military control, the balance of power was, and remains, with the tribal leaders.
Simultaneously, U.S. military leaders almost completely remodelled their reconstruction and security policy in Anbar around the Sunni tribal sheikhs instead of the central government, recognising that it was the sheiks, and not the general populace, that needed to be swayed. This approach is not without risk. Supporting the independence and capacities of armed, non-state actors inevitably undermines the already low levels of central state authority and legitimacy.

Gradually, as the violence in Iraq lessens in intensity and a veneer of order emerges, ‘cooperation’ will take on another strategic dimension. In March, the Shia-led Iraqi Parliament refused to pass a budget to earmark millions of dollars to pay members of the Sons of Iraq, a paramilitary Sunni group made up of former insurgents. This refusal, combined with the delayed integration of members into the national police and military forces, led some members to openly express regrets about abandoning al-Qaida. The history of sectarian violence in Iraq gives rise to concern that such measures may contribute to a fertile environment of suspicion, ripe for exploitation by al-Qaida and its affiliates.

The Evolution of Hard Power

At the same time, the U.S. is learning to use its forces more innovatively – in line with the objectives of counterinsurgency – in the form of the increasingly important strategic roles played by U.S. Special Forces and unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs).

It is neither soft nor hard power alone that has led to the successes in Iraq and Afghanistan, but the smarter application of both.

The comparative success of Special Operations forces, as opposed to conventional military forces, in targeting al-Qaida operatives and sectarian militias in Iraq reflects the benefit of faster response times and the ability to operate in remote areas. More significantly, it reflects an improvement in the coordination of intelligence and combat operations. Opening up lines of communication with tribal leaders has given the U.S. and coalition forces access to new streams of information; for example, in the Rusafa district of Baghdad, 11 of 13 al-Qaida targets in the district were captured or killed since November 2008, using intelligence provided by a former insurgent.

Comparatively, the use of UAVs to conduct reconnaissance and engage in ‘precision’ strikes is at the vanguard of ‘casualty-free’ war. Like Special Operations forces, UAVs have become an important ‘precision’ tool in combating the Taliban in remote regions of Afghanistan, which are difficult to access by land. Successes with UAVs in targeting the chief of military operations for al-Qaida, Mohammed Atef, and the Taliban leader, Baitullah Mehsud, have encouraged the U.S. Air Force to train more drone operators than fighter and bomber pilots. Three years ago, the service was able to fly 12 drones simultaneously; today it can fly more than 60.

However, the use of UAVs is not without controversy. Lord Bingham, an eminent international law scholar and judge, has observed: “It may be – I’m not expressing a view – that unmanned drones that fall on a house full of civilians is a weapon the international community should decide should not be used.” If the U.S. is to garner the respect and support of local tribal leaders, then this is precisely the sort of headline that it must avoid creating. Just as too much hard power can be counterproductive, the results of misdirected ‘precision’ hard power are just as damaging as the results of misguided hard power.

‘Smart’ Lessons from Afghanistan and Iraq

If the U.S. Department of Defense is correct in its assessment that “small messy wars, fought with messy alliances with messy outcomes” are precedents for future military confrontation, then the U.S. must learn the right lessons.

It is neither soft nor hard power alone that has led to the successes in Iraq and Afghanistan, but the smarter application of both. Hard power is not a sufficient substitute for soft power and, likewise, soft power cannot replicate the valuable coercion of hard power. The relationship is not necessarily one of incompatibility, although this is distinctly possible, but is potentially mutually reinforcing. For example, it is pointless to talk to or attract al-Qaida using soft power, since U.S. influence lies near the heart of the ‘corruption’ of Islam, which al-Qaida is attempting to remove. In combating the leaders of al-Qaida who cannot be influenced by American values, hard power remains the most logical and immediate deterrent.

The Obama Administration has inherited, and built upon, a delicate balance of hard and soft power strategies in Afghanistan and Iraq. In the rush to disown the Bush Administration’s policy of hard power plus, the Obama Administration must be careful not to cripple U.S. hard power and limit the responsiveness of U.S. power to both conventional and unconventional challenges.

Ultimately, whether or not U.S. or coalition forces remain on the ground, the conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq will last for another decade, if not longer, based on the precedents of other low-intensity insurgencies over the past century. To avoid passing the conflict onto the next generation, the Obama Administration must be conscious of managing the balance between hard power and soft power strategies, and gravitate towards the ‘smarter’ use of both hard and soft power. Not because it can or because it should, but because it must.

William Han is in his fourth year of a combined degree in Arts and Law.

Contours of power have dimensions of continuity, but, as the authors in this volume illustrate, they are also in a perpetual state of flux as actors compete for influence and control.  As the title of this volume suggests, part of the intellectual challenge of charting power lies in discerning when its content has changed, and when it has simply acquired a new face.

Certainly, many historical repositories of power remain active.  Mekela Panditharatne documents the continuing relevance of states as power-brokers, arguing that national sovereignty continues to form the grid around which ‘global’ arrangements are structured.  Marguerite Pettit describes one example of state power gone awry: in Papua New Guinea, bureaucratic corruption swindles customary landowners out of their title and their traditional sources of income.  Regrettably, in this and other post-colonial states, traditional relations of power and disempowerment continue to flourish.

Contours of power have dimensions of continuity, but, as the authors in this volume illustrate, they are also in a perpetual state of flux as actors compete for influence and control. 

But the battle for power is fierce and complacency is ill-advised when so many stakeholders are jostling for their share of the pie.  As Mark Grime reveals, non-state actors have proven to not only have a profound impact upon their own states, but can also subvert the foreign policy objectives of neighbouring nations, including those of hegemonic proportions.  Even among the global community of states themselves, power relations are dynamic.  Several authors have reported on China’s success in accruing global influence.  Wesley Lalich and Genevieve Curtis both interrogate the role which China has adopted in Africa.  Curtis opines that China’s primary ambition in this continent is not to turn a profit for itself, but to triumph in a zero-sum contest for power against its western rivals.  Although Lalich fears that China’s march through Africa will allow it to entrench authoritarianism or radically redefine democracy, he is cautiously confident that liberal governance is likely to thrive, suggesting that superpowers’ control is far from comprehensive.  The West’s objective should be to mould how such actors exert their newfound power.  The proposal of Sophia Chen, Daniel Liu and Richard Liu is that we should tie principles such as the rule of law and collective security to economic advancement in an attempt to reconcile the interests of disparate actors.

Such proposals invite consideration of the very character of emerging forms of power.  As Glenn Kembrey observes, Japan has achieved a position of immense authority without a standing army at its disposal.  Oliver Lindholm and William Han concur that in dealing with governments and citizens in the Middle East, exclusive reliance on either hard or soft power is foolhardy.  The US and its allies should, they argue, adopt a more nuanced approach whereby they honestly appraise whether diplomacy or shows of brute strength will be more effective in obtaining desirable policy outcomes.

Critically, the authors in this volume chronicle meaningful and enduring shifts in the landscape of power that are not always accompanied by the fanfare of the October Revolution.  Indeed, some of the most significant and insidious assumptions and extensions of power occur by stealth.  Lukasz Swiatek scrutinises states’ exercise of ‘biopower’ in combating HIV/AIDS, positing that governments regulating life itself is a menacing prospect.

And yet despite the proliferation of pernicious new faces of power, this volume contains some streaks of optimism.  Swiatek finds that states’ investment in regulating life has produced exceptional health outcomes, as longevity and general wellbeing have become litmus tests of governmental success.  Moreover, deprivations of power induce disempowered individuals to enter the battle for power and wrest some control for themselves.  Iran has become a laboratory for testing this proposition.  Most obviously, the Republic’s democratic deficit has provoked ferocious opposition, especially among young Iranians who have used media technology to broadcast their discontent and coordinate strategy for grasping political control, a phenomenon charted by Jahan Navidi.  Equally, according to May Samali, acts of silent resistance are compelling illustrations of seizures of power.

The Moscow Kremlin remains the working residence of Russia’s President. Less than two kilometres away, a new form of power has emerged: the McDonald’s restaurant in Pushkin Square is the fast food conglomerate’s busiest outlet in the world.  Just as post-socialist states embrace the free markets of ideas and French fries, so should the West be alive to the consequences of reallocations of power – a strategy facilitated by robust and prolific debate about the location and nature of power.  I applaud the authors in this volume for their contribution to this important conversation.

Naomi Hart is the Executive Director of The Sydney Globalist.