World politics is complicated, ever changing, and uncertain. Boiled down to its simplest elements, however, the basic goal of each actor within the international system — once empires and kingdoms, now largely nation-states — often centers upon getting others to do what you’d like and preventing those same actors from forcing you to do things you don’t want to do.
In 2014, Margot Wallström, then serving as the foreign minister of Sweden, proclaimed that the Swedish government would adopt a so-called feminist foreign policy, becoming the first nation ever to do so. Since then, Canada, France, and Mexico have followed suit, and a handful of other nations—most recently, Luxembourg, Malaysia, and Spain—have pledged to develop similar policies.
A foreign policy should be judged not only by specific actions, but also by how a pattern of actions shapes the environment of world politics. Leadership in supplying global public goods, for example, is consistent with “America First,” but it rests on a broader historical and institutional understanding than Donald Trump has shown.
Unipolarity is over, and with it the illusion that other nations would simply take their assigned place in a U.S.-led international order. For the United States, that will require accepting the reality that there are spheres of influence in the world today—and that not all of them are American spheres.
The Great Game, a prolonged 19th century confrontation between the British and Russian empires in Central Asia, is often invoked as a prime example of the struggle for influence between major powers. But another Great Game was played out at that time in the Balkans between Russia and several European powers when the Ottoman empire began to retreat. We are now witnessing the 21st century version of the Balkan Great Game, but where Moscow relies on subversion and deception as it cannot compete militarily or economically with the West.
It is tautological or at best trivial to say that all states try to act in their national interest. The important question is how leaders choose to define and pursue that national interest under different circumstances.
Neruda’s saga marks one of the 20th century’s greatest literary chase scenes, and the Cold War’s first global manhunt. It wasn’t a hunt for a nuclear engineer, a spy, or even a dissident journalist but for a poet—a poet!—whose love poetry had won him acclaim and book sales around the world, and later earned the 1971 Nobel Prize.
The foreign policy implications of an authoritarian world in which each nation strives for narrow advantages and fails to coordinate actions on trade, migration, climate change and other cross-border concerns are not promising. With young people becoming more politically active, their “green” positions may check politicians who try to argue that the “burden” of adjustment should not fall on their nation.
The Holy See has played an important but understudied role in intelligence and diplomacy through its diplomatic service, which is one of the oldest in the world. The extensive presence of the Holy See’s diplomats combined with their neutrality provides them access to unique information in the far corners of the globe.
As a foreign policy story, Martin’s tale is far less conservative and far more transformative than meets the eye. A parable about the consequences of unchecked realpolitik, it does not celebrate power and the powerful but challenges and interrogates them. Society is complex, roles and identities are varied and contingent, and division risks disaster. Hic sunt dracones indeed.
