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The English School's Contribution to the study of International Relations
by Richard Little,presented to BISA Annual Conference, 20-22 December 1999, University of Manchester.
The aim of this paper is to explore the parameters of the English school¡¯s approach to the study of international relations (IR). What emerges from this exploration is that the contribution that has been made by the English school is much more eclectic and comprehensive than is sometimes acknowledged. It has become part of conventional wisdom within IR that the English school sees itself providing a via media that runs between two more polarised positions. Members of the English school have labelled supporters of the via media in various different ways: as rationalists, Grotians, and proponents of an international society. And without doubt each of these terms is considered by the English school to identify a particular point of view that lies between two extremes. Rationalists can observe realists and revolutionists on either side of them; Grotians see themselves separating Hobbesians from Kantians; and proponents of international society consider themselves to be occupying the middle ground that keeps theorists who focus on the international system apart from theorists who are concerned with the creation of world society. But despite the pervasive image of the English school sitting securely at the centre of the discipline, recent proponents have argued that the methodological and ontological orientation of the school will need to be further refined if it is to be rescued from a somewhat marginal position within the discipline. In particular, proponents of the English school argue that its profound anti-positivism and its rejection of realism needs to be brought to the fore. However, this assessment of the English school can be challenged. Although members of the English school have seen it as one of their central tasks to create the conceptual space needed to examine international society, it will be argued here that this is only one feature of a much broader and more plural agenda.
Critics, moreover, are not predisposed to accept that the emphasis reputedly placed on the via media by members of the English school gives them the right to occupy the centre stage of the discipline. Viewed from a less sympathetic perspective, the English school can look like perfidious Albion, the balancer, ever willing to shift ground in order to be on the winning side in any argument. Like the popular stereotype of its eponymous namesake, there might seem to be something rather two-faced, duplicitous, and lacking in integrity, about the English school. Unsurprisingly, advocates offer a much more benign interpretation of the conceptual space that the English school has endeavoured to carve out for themselves. Acknowledging that the English school is Janus-faced, it is seen to be capable of looking in two different directions at the same time. This skill thereby allows the school to act as an interlocutor between opposing positions that otherwise lack the ability to communicate effectively with each other. So the English school, it is argued, sees itself playing a crucial role in the promotion of an essential conversation that ought to be taking place about the nature of international relations.
From the perspective of their critics, however, members of the English school are in no position to act as effective interlocutors because they are seen to lack a coherent or consistent point of view. On the contrary, like the cuckoo, they are often seen to nest within and then commandeer well defended sites that have been built by other theorists. Or like the magpie, they are seen to purloin ideas from other theorists and then exploit them for their own advantage. For example, although they seek to distinguish themselves from realists, there is no doubt that members of the English school frequently cloak themselves in ideas derived from realism. And by the same token, although they fail to identify themselves as cosmopolitans, it is equally apparent that they often take advantage of cosmopolitan thought. Various explanations have been offered to account for the apparent lack of any consensus among the members of this putative school of thought. First, it has been suggested that key members of the English school, such as Bull and Wight, shifted ground over the course of their careers, moving from an essentially realist perspective to one that had at least some things in common with the revolutionists. Second, it has been argued that because the members of the English school are so highly attuned to how diplomats and statesmen view the world, the schoolís emphasis on realism during the early stages of the Cold War when the school was being established, is simply a reflection of the fact that state officials were, perhaps insurprisingly, pulled towards a more realist perspective at that historical juncture. Third, it has also been argued that members of the English school have never adhered to a common perspective and so any attempt to link them together within a single tradition of thought inevitably results in a set of inconsistent and incoherent ideas. Fourth, it is suggested that the school has gone through at least four phases and its orientation has shifted to some extent in the process.
In this paper I want to suggest that arguments of this kind, in conjunction with the attempt to tie the English school down to an anti-positivist and anti-realist orientation, inhibit the need to recognise that the founding fathers of the English school were drawn to a pluralistic methodology that aims to find ways of linking apparently disparate bodies of knowledge and understanding. There has, for example, been a persistent but nevertheless erroneous tendency to treat Wightís three traditions of international theory as competing perspectives on the world. It follows that these traditions can then be set against each other with the theorists from each tradition being viewed as making incommensurable claims. But this is certainly not how Wight regarded his three traditions of thought. On the contrary, he linked them to ëthree interrelated political conditions which comprise the subject matter of what is called international relationsí. As he saw it, advocates of the three traditions tended to focus on one of these conditions at the expense of the others. Realists are seen to focus on the political condition of anarchy because they consider it to be an enduring and unchanging feature of international relations. Rationalists are seen to focus on diplomacy and commerce because they consider that continuous and organized intercourse can ameliorate the effects of anarchy. Revolutionists are seen to focus on the way that the multiplicity of sovereign states forms a moral and cultural whole that can transcend the effects of anarchy.
It is an oversimplification to suggest, therefore, that the English school is synonymous with the study of international society. Certainly the English school has acknowledged the importance of rationalist ideas but this is not to the exclusion of realist and revolutionist ideas. From an English school perspective, a comprehensive understanding of international relations must embrace all three traditions. Focusing on rationalist ideas at the expense of the other two traditions of thought will necessarily result in an incomplete picture. By the same token, it will be argued that it is a mistake to assume that the schoolís members are resolutely opposed to a positivist methodology. A comprehensive assessment of the work presented by members of the English school makes it clear that they rely on interpretivist, positivist and critical assumptions. But although members of the English school have been relatively explicit about their their pluralistic orientation, they have certainly not discussed it in any detail or examined all of the consequences of following such a route. By attempting to map out the implications of adopting a pluralistic approach to international relations, it becomes apparent that there are substantial lacunae in the extant work of the English school. I conclude, therefore, by arguing there that the contemporary research strategy of the English school should be to aim at filling the gaping gaps in the original research programme rather than attempting to promote a more tightly defined approach, albeit one that is very distinctive, to the study of international relations.
Methodological Pluralism: For and Against
Although the English school has become ever more closely associated with the idea of international society, its link with Wightís ëthree rsí - realists, rationalists and revolutionists - also persists as a defining feature. But in order to justify the claim that it is the association with international society that renders the English school distinctive, there is an accompanying tendency to assume that the English school necessarily privileges the rationalists at the expense of the other two perspectives. At the same time there is also seen to be a link, perhaps even a necessary link, between the study of international society and an interpretivist methodology which has only recently started to be spelled out. The nature of the link will be examined in a later section; the aim here is to scrutinise more closely the criticisms that have been levelled at the ëthree rsí triptych drawn first by Wight and then later embelleshed by Bull and which putatively offers such radically different approaches to the study of international relations. Once these criticisisms are highlighted, however, it immediately becomes necessary to widen the discussion and explore the persistent tension within the discipline between the drive for methodological and ontological monism and the desire to embrace methodological and ontological pluralism.
The most rigorous criticisms of the English schoolís triptych have been levelled by an emerging group of thinkers who intend to reintegrate IR and political theory. The fundamental weakness of the English school is seen to arise from the attempt to generate an independent discipline of international relations. In the process, an attempt has been made to see what theorists have said in the past about international relations; several dire consequences are seen by the critics to have followed from this procedure. First, they argue, the English school has come to the erroneous conclusion that political philosophers have had little of significance to say about international relations. They have only been able to reach this conclusion, it is insisted, because they have detached what key philosophers have had to say about international relations from the original context. It is argued that philosophers such as Rousseau and Kant did not tack on to their political philosophy a few paragraphs about international relations that can be detached, readily and meaningfully, from their complex and profound ideas on political philosophy. The sections on international relations can only be properly understood when examined in the context of the overall conception of a philosophers political thought. By the same token, it is also argued that political theorists have all too often made the reverse but equally egregious mistake of failing to embrace the international dimension of political thought. . A second failing attributed to the English school is that when scavenging through what has been written in the past about international relations, ostensibly in the name of theory, they have failed to ëdifferentiate genuinely philosophical contributions from the merely polemicalí. Given these two failings, it is seen to be unsurprising, although unquestionably incorrect, to reach such gloomy conclusions about the quality of IR theory.
Alongside the attempts to reintegrate political and international relations theory, it has also been observed that IR has undergone a forty year ëbizarre detourí during which the discipline has systematically sought to separate facts from values, with the result that normative thinking about international relations has been consistently eschewed. The English school does not escape from this criticism because it is argued that its members have displayed a bias towards ëobjective explanationí as the result of giving epistemological priority to the facts. On the face of it, this criticism would appear to be justified. Certainly Wight acknowledges that whereas political philosophers have devoted a good deal of their time endeavouring to theorise about ëthe good lifeí, there is little scope for such theorising in the field of international relations because international theory is, necessarily, ëthe theory of survivalí. This distinction, however, is increasingly seen to provide a perfect illustration of the fallacy of the false dichotomy. Boucher insists that this division between progressive political theory and non-progressive international theory is highly contentious, while Brown insists that the division results in an ëundertheorised and limited conception of international relationsí and he insists that international relations theory has to be contained within a more all-embracing project of social and political theory.
At this juncture, however, advocates of normative political theory start to part company from each other. Although they agree that it would be a mistake to follow the route mapped out by the English school because its tripych does no more that present divergent pictures of international relations, there is no agreement on how theorists should be characterised once the reintegration of political and international theory has been realised. Perhaps the most influential contender is the division highlighted most effectively by Brown and Thompson between communitarians and cosmopolitants. Communitarians take it for granted that the rights and duties of individuals are grounded in historically constructed communities, whereas the cosmopolitans posit the existence of a world community made up of individuals who, although represented through states, are subject to a common conception of morality. These two perspectives generate radically different assessments about how to approach a wide range of international problems from humanitarian intervention to the treatment of refugees.
Boucher argues, however, that despite the popularity of the divide between communitarianism and cosmopolitanism, it does not overcome the difficulty that he associates with the English school insistence on seeing its tripych of traditions as forming ëmutually exclusive and autonomous categoriesí. Boucher goes on to suggest that there is an inadequate attempt to explain either how the categories are related to each other or how the theorists that are placed within each category are related to each other. As a consequence, the traditions are ëlittle more than classificatory categories into which thinkers are forced irrespective of the embarrassing elements which appear to be ill at ease in their putative homesí. Boucher insists, however, that his solution to this problem is not to generate yet another classificatory scheme. Instead, he identifies three styles of thinking that highlight particular sets of criteria that are invoked to ëguide, justify and recommend state actioní These styles of thinking are seen to have generated three traditions of thought that are linked in a dialectical relationship. The tradition of empirical realism focuses on the way that human desires inevitably give rise to conflicts of interest which need to be handled by rules of prudence and not moral imperatives. The second tradition allies justice with virtue and identifies the existence of ethical principles that are universally applicable. The final tradition, identified by Boucher as historical reason, is seen to provide a possible synthesis to the other two antithetical ways of thinking. This third mode of thinking recognises that morality is an historically emerging phenomenon and that what we observe today is a thick conception of particularistic morality that is embedded in the day to day practices of all societies operating alongside a very thin conception of universal morality that extends across a transnational global community of individuals. This historical mode of thinking, however, it can be argued, is itself a product of history. We now live in an era where, as Warnock puts it, ëwe cannot but think historicallyí and this has profound consequences for the way that we think about morality. Boucher traces his third tradition back to Rousseau where this mode of historical reasoning is seen to outweigh Rousseauís well documented realist proclivities.
Boucher associates his approach with the idea of methodological pluralism which is premised on the assumption that these are not independent traditions of thought, but that they co-exist and that there is an inevitable tension amongst the competing ways of thinking about moral questions . Theorists, therefore, cannot take their positions for granted, but must constantly endeavour to defend their ideas against the arguments advanced by their competitors. Boucher, however, also insists that this is not an unchanging game with new theorists constantly chasing each other around the same old theoretical mulberry bushes. The ideas that are examined within the three traditions of thought are seen to undergo considerable changes, in contrast, according to Boucher, to the approach adopted by members of the English school whose traditions of thought are seen to identify three divergent sets of ideas ëthat recur with very little variation in different contexts, like coins that change hands, and whose value is little affected by inflationí. Somewhat inconsistently, however, reference is also made Wightís ëcurious propensity continuously to add subcategories to the traditions like species to a genusí. Moreover, although Boucher fails to recognise this fact, it can also be argued that members of the English school are also drawn to his conception of methodological pluralism. As noted above, Wight classifies theorists reacting in one of three ways to anarchy. Wight may be less explicit than Boucher about his methodological pluralism, but without doubt he acknowledges that his three traditions co-exist in ëmutual tension and conflictí with each other. Moreover, he also refuted the idea that the traditions formed ërailroad tracks running parallel to infinityí. Instead, he recognised that although theorists tend to concentrate on one of the three political conditions at the expense of the others, because the conditions are interrelated, there are inevitable ëcross-currentsí that pull the divergent streams of ideas together. But perhaps even more significantly, Linklater endeavours to demonstrate that the English schoolís triptych of realism, rationalism, and revolutionism exist in a dialectical relationship with each other, anticipating Boucherís argument, if not his categories.
But Linklater pushes the idea of methodological pluralism much further than Boucher because, as noted earlier, he links the triptych of realism, rationalism and revolutionism with three divergent methodologies: positivism, hermeneutics and critical theory. Moreover, he also places these methodologies in a dialectical relationship with each other, arguing that critical theory synthesises the antithesis that exists between positivism and hermeneutics. Although very neat and tidy, it is far from clear that this resolution is one that accords with the intentions of the founders of the English school. It fails to accommodate the ontological pluralism observed in the distinctions drawn between the anarchic international system, the rule-governed international society and and the transnational world society. These features of international relations are seen to co-exist and are not considered to exist in a dialectical relationship with each other. None of the elements are given ontological priority. It is assumed that they are operating within a single complex reality. The overarching methodological injunction which underlies this approach is that, as Bull puts it, the analyst must not ëreifyí any of these elements. Although attention may be focused on only one of these elements, it must never be forgotten that this element is lodged in the context of the other two. It is insisted by Bull that ëit is always erroneous to interpret events as if international society were the sole or dominant elementí. The point is reinforced by Watson, who argues that the distinctions are useful not because they have the effect of allowing the ëcomplex reality of international relations to be simplified into this category or that but because it allows that reality to be illuminated by considering it from a particular point of view.
But the significance of this position has not always been recognised. Hoffmann observes, for example, that ëit is impossible now to separate as rigorously as Bull did the ëtransnationalí from the ëinternationalí elements of world politicsí. In making this claim, Hoffmann seems to be arguing that there has been an ontological shift in the world that makes it impossible to establish methodological divisions of labour. Hoffmann is certainly not alone in adopting this position. Falk, for example, insists that neorealism offered a ëreductive, totalising focus on the power relations among sovereign statesí that could do no more than provide ëa geopolitical snapshot of the Cold War periodí. He goes on to argue that even this ërestricted imageí results in a misinterpretation of recent world history because it makes the ëpresent preoccupation with the dynamics of the world economy seem overly discontinuous with the pastí. Like Hoffmann, Falk is dismissing the idea that it is possible to adopt a pluralist position that legitimises an ontological division of labour. Falk could, of course, argue that in contrast to Bull, the neorealists do appear to assume that it is necessary to give ontological priority to their conception of the international political system. To the extent that this is true, then they are adopting a position of methodological and ontological monism. But it is clear that Bull does not adopt this position, although he does little to spell out the nature and implications of his methodological and ontological position.
An attempt will be made in the remainder of this paper to explore the methodological and ontological implications underlying the work of the English school. These implications have not been extensively explored because the English school has come to be so closely associated with the idea of international society. In focusing on this feature of the English school the methodological and ontological significance of their tripych of images has been overlooked. The move being made here can, perhaps, be seen as a counterpart to the one made by Waever when he demonstrates that the conception of the international society formulated by the English school can be expanded through an engagement with the work of rational institutionalists, constructivists, and post-structuralists. The engagement reveals that it is possible and necessary to identify four separate layers to any international society. Waever then articulates the possibilities and dangers of opening up the English school to a transatlantic dialogue in the interests of developing this richer and more complex conception of international society. Here, the aim is more modest and takes the form of a ground-clearing exercise. By exploring the methodological and ontological implications associated with each of the images in the English schoolís triptych the paper attempts to map out the parameters of the English schoolís contribution to the study of international relations.
Positivism, realism and the international system
It may appear perverse, at first sight, to suggest that the English school actively entertains the idea of positivism. After all, Bullís philippic against a ëscientificí approach to the study of international relations is generally considered to epitomise the attitude of the English school to any approach tainted by positivism . But this aversion to ëpositivismí only holds true if the term is equated with natural science. From the perspective of the English school, there is no doubt that treating social systems as natural systems or overlooking the unique characteristics of human beings are errors of the highest order. But positivism does not have to be tied to a dehumanised or naturalised approach to social reality. Ashley, for example, associates positivism with any method that opens up the possibility of analysing the recurrent and repetitious patterns that occur in international relations. Although the English school were undoubtedly opposed to any attempt to give the study of international relations a natural science twist, they were certainly not averse to looking for patterns in history. In one of Wightís most widely cited quotations, he observes that international politics is the ërealm of recurrence and repetition; it is the field in which political action is most regularly necessitousí There might appear to be a certain irony here for post-positivists when it is noted how closely this quotation mirrors what Waltz, often depicted as an arch positivist, has to say about international politics, because he similarly asserts that the ëtexture of international politics remains highly constant, patterns recur and events repeat themselves endlessly .
Advocates of the English school are prone to find this textual link unsettling. Dunne argues that the quotation and the essay as a whole needs to be seen in a broader context. When this is done, it becomes apparent that Butterfield and Wight were both wanting to establish ëa normative theoretical agendaí which took account of the tension between considerations of order and justice. Epp insists that Wight only used the phrase ërecurrence and repetitioní once in his published work and that when the phrase is examined in the context of his total opus, it becomes clear that his main concern is with contingency and freedom. He insists, therefore, that there can be no possible link with the structural realism most closely associated with Waltz that has ërendered history a null set and that projects a future inevitably like the presentí. But these two analysts, however, are intent on directing the English school down the via media. In doing so, they fail to acknowledge that the founding members of the English school seem to have conceived of international relations in much more pluralistic terms than this preoccupation with the middle way permits. Focusing on the via media draws the boundaries of the English school much too narrowly.
Because the members of the English school have all tended to be methodologically unselfconscious, there has never been any formal attempt to link their interest in historical patterns to their interest in the international system. Indeed, the role of the international system in their thinking has taken a number of different forms. From one perspective, it has been associated with an historical stage that arises before the emergence of an international society. But from another perspective, it can be viewed as a counter-factual condition to explore what international relations would be like in the absence of an international society. Both Bull and Watson, however, also conceptualised the international system as a dimension or ëlayerí, to use Waeverís terminology, of a complex international reality. And Watson insists that the distinction between an international system and an international society is ëseminalí for an understanding of international relations.
The international system is identified by the condition where ëstates are in regular contact with each other and where in addition there is interaction between them, sufficient to make the behaviour of each a necessary element in the calculation of the otherí. Bull is well aware that realists have relied on this formulation to generate a conception of an ëautomatic tendencyí for a balance of power to emerge in the international system, on the assumption that all states ëseek to maximise their relative power positioní. But Bull is quite clear that there can be no ëinevitable tendency for a balance of power to ariseí because states do not alway seek to maximise their relative power position, often preferring to devote their resources and energies to other ends. As a consequence, he formulates the idea of a ëfortuitousí balance of power that can emerge without ëany conscious effortí on the part of any of the members of the system. This outcome is seen to be most likely in a situation where two dominant states are both striving to achieve hegemony within an international system. Because the outcome is seen to be independent of the objectives being pursued by the states, it is viewed as a product of the system. As Watson puts it, systemic pressures ëact mechanically in the sense that they act outside of the will of the community concernedí.
Despite Eppís reservations, it has to be acknowledged that this conception of the international system bears an uncanny resemblance to the one formulated by Waltz, albeit developed in a much less systematic form. It is, therefore, less surprising than it might otherwise be to find Bull identifying Waltzís Theory of International Politics as ëan important bookí that provides the ëfirst, rigorously ìsystematicî account of international politicsí. In place of Watsonís ëmechanisticí and Bullís ëfortuitousí balance of power, Waltz identifies the balance of power as an ëunintended outcomeí of a system made up of states which, in theory, will be striving to survive. He fortifies his theory by drawing a powerful metaphor between the balance of power as an unintended systemic outcome of states in an anarchic system striving to survive and the equilibrium price that forms in a market made up of states striving to maximise their profits. The systemic approaches adopted by Waltz and the English school, therefore, are similar but certainly not identical. Waltz argues that the survival instinct of states has ensured that the balance of power has been an enduring feature of the international system and that it accounts for the continuous reproduction of the anarchic system as well as the familiar ëtextureí of international politics. For the English school, the mechanistic balance of power is an episodic and ëfortuitousí feature of the international system.
Differentiating between the conceptions of the international system advanced by Waltz and the English school has important consequences. Bull insists, for example, that ëthe abstract logic of the systemí advanced by Waltz leads to conclusions that are ëat loggerheads with common senseí. For instance, it suggested, quite erroneously in Bullís view that the international system was still dominated by the superpowers and, equally absurd, that this outcome was in the best interests of us all.. Bull argued, however, not that Waltzís formulation should be discarded, but that it should be recognised that, on its own, it was ëquite inadequateí. From Bullís perspective, it is not possible to make sense of international relations without bringing international society and world society into play. When he embraces international society, however, the balance of power is identified as one of the crucial institutions that ensure that order is preserved. But to establish the balance of power as an international institution, he has move beyond his conception of a ëfortuitousí balance. And, indeed, Bull does draw a clear distinction between a fortuitous and what he refers to as a contrived balance of power. The latter emerges when states are conscious of the need to counteract the actions of other states in order to maintain a balance. But in drawing this distinction, it must be questioned whether or not Bull has over-specified how he defines the international system. As it stands, his definition presupposes that in addition to interacting, the behaviour of each state becomes a necessary element in the calculation of the other. But such a stiplulation would seem to generate a contrived balance of power whereas simple interaction can generate no more than a fortuitous or unintended balance. In wanting to identify the balance of power as an international institution, therefore, Bull problematises the distinction he draws between an international system and an international society in a way that Waltz manages to avoid.
But despite generating this problem (which we will return to in the next section) the real strength of Bullís conception of the international system is that the balance of power is not seen to be a defining feature of the system. States, it is presupposed, often fail to generate a balance of power and, as a consequence, Bull manages to escapeWaltzís presumption that the inevitable albeit unintended production of a balance of power simultaneously ensures that the anarchic structure of the international system is continuously reproduced. Escaping this presumption has proved to be important because when Watson came to examine international systems from a world historical perspective, he reached the uneqivocal conclusion that polarised international systems have never been the norm for most of world history. Instead, challenging Waltzís bifurcation of political systems into anarchies and hierarchies, he insists that history reveals that there always is a pull towards hegemony in any anarchic system of independent states and a pull towards autonomy amongst the units that form any empire. From this persepective, then, mechanisms for reproducing anarchy and hierarchy have historically always been very underdeveloped, with the result that both anarchy and hierarchy have proved to be highly unstable structures. The notion that international systems can at best generate a ëfortuitousí balance of power but more often than not no balance at all is entirely consistent with this assessment.
The conception of the international system developed by the English school is, therefore, much less robust than the model established by Waltz. In terms of Waltzís model, it is impossible to explain why an international system should transform into hierarchy. Of course, he does not deny that such a transformation is possible. But the logic of anarchy is seen to work against such a transformation. By contrast, the international system as conceived by the English school is exceptionally fragile and it lacks any feedback mechanisms that will help to secure its reproduction. It follows that although at first sight there would seem to be a powerful link between realism, the international system and positivism, in the English schoolís approach, the link between realism and the international system certainly proves to be surprisingly muted. For realists, as Waltz demonstrates, the balance of power is a defining feature of the international system. But Bull effectively separates these two concepts, and Watson goes onto demonstrate that there are very good empirical reasons for making this detachment. This assessment, therefore, drives a coach and horses through the assessment made by Wight and Waltz about the unchanging ëtextureí of international politics. An initial appraisal suggests that neorealists and the English school share a common conception of the international system. Closer investigation indicates that the English school subscribe to a very thin conception of the international system, one that presupposes no more than interaction. A very different methodological approach is required to reveal the texture of international politics, and when this methodology is adopted, it is the variation in texture that heaves into view.
Interpretism, Rationalism, and International Society
Operating as a ëspectatorí and looking for patterns in history is without doubt an important starting point for members of the English school. But such a methodological move only represents a place of departure and it can certainly not be identified as a point of destination. Even as historical observers, however, members of the English school have challenged the well-worn truism advanced by realists about the universality of the balance of power. And in doing so, they have successfully, although perhaps unwittingly, provided the start of an explanation for the instability of anarchy. But to go any further, it is necessary to move beyond a discussion of the international system and to engage with the idea of international society. According to Bullís formulation, an international society presupposes that states are ëconscious of certain common interests and common valuesí and they also ëconceive of themselves to be bound by a common set of rules in their relations with one another, and share in the working of common institutionsí. It follows that international systems and international societies take very different forms. Whereas international systems emerge whenever states start to interact and do not have to be aware that they are part of a system, members of an international society do have to be aware of their common or shared identity. International societies and international systems, therefore, rest on very different ontological assumptions and, as a consequence, they need to be examined by means of very different methodologies. To identify an international system it is only necessary (at least in the thin version) to observe that interaction is taking place between states. But an international society presupposes that there is an intersubjective agreement amongst statesmen and to get a grasp on this intersubjectivity requires a very distinctive methodology. Using the terminology developed by Hollis and Smith, positivists tell the story from the outside and this is an appropriate methodology for examining the way that states interact. But to develop an understanding of the international societies that have formed across time and space it is necessary to be able to tell the story from the inside. And to be able to do this a methodology is required that enables the analyst to ëpenetrate the thought world of other times and placesí.
Acknowledging the centrality of language in international relations is a necessary first step to coming to terms with intersubjectivity. Wight, in particular, was very sensitive to the importance of language. He points to the endless debates that take place in the international arena as statesmen try to reach agreement about the nature of the problems that they are confronting. But at the end of the day, any agreement achieved, necessarily involves language and often the creation of new language. All these debates, Wight insists, are ëthe stuff of international theory, and it (the stuff) is constantly bursting the bounds of the language in which we try to handle ití. As Epp notes, therefore, Wightís inquiries ëinvariably circle back to consider when and how the words that constitute the practice of international relations enter its vocabulary, are mediated historically in their meanings, and find institutional expressioní. For example, Wight observes a ëcultural chasmí that separates medieval Christendom and the modern states-system which is marked by a ëgradual transition from a language of legal right to one of temporal powerí. To understand this transition, it is inadequate simply to observe the changing nature of the practices, as the positivist does, there has to be a ëcommitment to the exploration, in as ordered manner as the evidence permits, of the thought already embodied in practiceí. And thought can only be accessed by language.
Once the significance of language is acknowledged, then the methods associated with hemeneutics and interpretivism come to the fore. These methods acknowledge that it is possible to draw on the language used in a given international society in order to identify and then understand the significance of the interests, values, rules, and institutions that prevail in a particular place and at a particular point in time. It is presupposed, moreover, that these features vary considerably from one international society to another but this can only be appreciated through an investigation of the language used by statesmen when they are engaged in the practices that define a given international society. Understanding an international society, therefore, requires both ëhistorical and sociological depthí. Although there is a substantial literature that has explored the essential features of a methodology based on hermeneutics and interpretivism, members of the English school themselves have always very been methodologically unselfconscious and have viewed the task of getting an ëinside viewí as unproblematic.
Wight, in particular, has acknowledged that to gain a proper understanding of international society it is insufficient to focus on the way that international society evolved in Europe over the last millennium. He recognises, in other words, that there is a need to adopt and develop a comparative approach. By comprehending the nature of previous international societies, we can develop a more profound understanding of our own. However, the English school does also assume that the international society that evolved in Europe managed to produce the most sophisticated set of international institutions to date. Sovereignty, the balance of power, diplomacy, and international law are all seen to be products of international society that came to fruition in the European international society. After examining the Greek city states, for example, Wight concludes ëJust as they had no diplomatic system and no public international law, so they had no sense of an equilibrium of power being the foundation and as it were the constitution of international societyí. Although he is prepared to acknowledge that the language associated with the balance of power began to emerge in the subsequent Hellenistic age, it was still ëonly a glimmeringí . This assessment of the balance of power is also endorsed by Butterfield. He insists that the institution ëdid not exist in the ancient worldí and that ëMore than most of our basic political formulas, this one seems to come from the modern worldís reflections on its own experienceí. Like Wight, Butterfield examines the language used in the past to discuss international relations in order to demonstrate that the thought and therefore the practice associated with the balance of power failed to emerge until the beginning of the sixteenth century. Butterfield suggests that the first evidence of a self-conscious awareness of the balance of power can be found in the writings of Guicciardini.
What distinguished Guicciardiniís account of international relations was his image of the Italian city states ëjealously watching one anotherís every move, diplomacy being unremittingly awake, and the whole still serving the purpose of peaceí. Butterfield is suggesting, in other words, that ëthere is interaction between the city states sufficient to make the behaviour of each a necessary element in the calculation of the otherí. But Butterfield also suggests that references to the balance of power over the next two hundred years still reveal a failure to appreciate the general nature of this international institution. There was ësomething lackingí in these analyses and this was an awareness of ëa general field of forcesí. From Butterfieldís perspective, therefore, it was only in the seventeenth century that the balance of power emerged as a fully fledged institution in Europeís international society.
Wight is very conscious that there is something very distinctive about the importance attached to the role played by the language of international relations in the methodology that the English school is drawing upon. He acknowledges in particular that it may be seen to be at variance with conventional social science methods because the language of international relations is ëso indefinite and embodying such tension between oppositesí. But he believes nevertheless that ëit corresponds to the intractable anomalies and anfractuosities of international experienceí. This assessment obviously appears to lie at the opposite extreme of his view that international relations are characterised by ërecurrence and repetitioní. Yet this opposition is no doubt one of the tensions that Wight is referring to. His assessment of the role played by language in the theory and practice of the balance of power perhaps helps to square the circle. Wight acknowledges that the balance of power is a metaphor which generates multiple meanings. But Wight insists that this feature of the metaphor should be regarded as an benefit rather than a flaw. He suggests that part of the fascination of the balance of power lies with the difficulty of pinning down its meaning. We resort to balance of power terminolgy, he argues, because it is ëflexible and elastic enough to cover all the complexities and contradictionsí encountered in the international system. It helps to account for the inherent ambiguity that is such a crucial feature of international relations. Ironically, although Epp is particularly attuned to the role of language in the English schoolís approach, he fails to appreciate that the ambiguity surrounding the language of the balance of power is a reflection of the inherent ambiguity associated with the practice of the balance of power. Hurrell is unquestionably right when he notes that ëeven the quintessentially realist ëinstitutioní of the balance of power appears in a different lightí when viewed as the linguistic component of a central institution in international society. It is viewed ëless as a formal mechanism than as a metaphor that assists power political bargaining and legitimises agreed outcomesí. Bullís distinction between the ëfortuitousí or mechanical balance of power and the ëcontrivedí balance of power gets to the heart of the distinction that the English school draws between the international system and international society and the different methodologies required to uncover these features of international relations. But to provide a complete picture of international relations it is argued that world society must also be brought into play.
Critical Theory, Revolutionism, and World Society
The idea of world society is without doubt the most problematic feature of the ontological and methodological framework devised by the English school. Bull argues that a world society is made up of individuals and it presupposes a ëworld common goodí which identifies the ëcommon ends or values of the universal society of mankindí. It follows, therefore, that a world society is ënot merely a degree of interaction linking all parts of the human community to one anotherí. Bull insists that there must also be a ësense of common interest and common values, on the basis of which comon rules and institutions may be builtí. As Buzan has argued, therefore, there is then an assumption made by the English school that an international society needs to be underwritten by a world society. The consequences of this position can be observed most clearly in the analysis developed by Watson when he suggests that in the aftermath of World War 2, whereas it was possible to identify an international system, it was important to recognise that the two superpowers ëwere not ìbook endsî holding together a single closely involved society of states; they were centres around which largely separate societies developedí. Bull also asks if the international politics of the present time should be viewed as ëan international system that is not an international societyí. He insists that the element of society is always present in international politics, although its ësurvival is sometimes precarious.
His position on the idea of world society, however, turns out to be much more equiviocal. He insists, for example, that it has to be questioned whether a world society can at this juncture be regarded as anything more than an aspiration. Bull acknowledges that people often write or speak today about international relations ëas if world society already existedí. But he is quite clear that such a society has not yet emerged ëexcept as an idea or myth which may one day become powerfulí. It is also widely accepted, however,as Wight notes, that ëIf the community of mankind is not yet manifested, yet it is latent, half glimpsed and groping for its necessary fulfilmentí. But how best to achieve a world society is deeply disputed. On the one hand, Wight acknowledges the argument that international society ëconceals, obstructs, and oppresses the real society of individual men and womení. But, on the other hand, members of the English school believe that ëin so far as the interests of mankind are articulated and aggregated....this is through the mechanism of the society of sovereign states.
The image of a latent world society, however, does not square neatly with the discussion of transnationalism that Bull readily acknowledges as a feature of international relations, both past and present. He insists that one of the ëcardinal featuresí of the contemporary world is that the contemporary international society is part of a much wider world political system that unequivocally embraces transnational forces. But just as this development should not lead us to conclude that international society is likely to decline in significance, nor should it encourage us to assume that world society is just round the corner. For Bull, the relationship between transnational forces and world society seems to take a similar but not identical form to the relationship between the international system and international society. Transnationalism provides evidence that there is, and perhaps always has been, interaction linking parts of the human community, in the same way that an international system can be identified by the interaction that takes place between states. Bull acknowledges, moreover, the importance of transnational society before 1914. And he goes on to make the claim that it is very likely that the role played by the residual medieval transnational relations that persisted in Europe during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were much more significant than the transnational relations that persist in the contemporary world. So it follows that changes in the level of transnational activity does not necessarily tell us very much about the fate of international society. It needs to be seen as a separate level of international relations, just as the international system represents a separate level from international society. But this still leaves open the question of the relationship between transnational systems and world society. The English school seem to work from the position that observable patterns of transnational behaviour must be distinguished from the existence of common values, interests and institutions that are associated with world society. But the distinction has not been articulated with any degree of clarity. Presupposing that the relationship between international systems and societies can be compared to the replationship between transnational systems and world societies, then it follows that whereas positivistic methods can be used to identify transnational systems, such methods need to be replaced by or at any rate supplemented with hermeneutic methods in order to study world society. Drawing on such methods, Bull is able to demonstrate that the existence of world society has tended to ebb and flow across time. He does so, for example, by examining the way that the influence of natural law on international practice has tended to wax and wane over time. The doctrine of natural law, he argues, ëproclaimed the common rights and duties of men everywhereí. Natural law, therefore, presupposed that social bonds existed between Christians and non-Christians and this is reflected, for example, in the ëuniversal laws of hospitality by which Spaniards and Indians were bound in the Americasí as expounded by Victoria. . It was the belief in natural law, therefore, that helped to mitigate the exclusiveness of the idea of a Christian society. It was also the universalist assumptions associated with natural law that inhibited the development of sovereignty as one of the defining features of European international society. But by the eighteenth century Bull indicates that positive international law had taken the place of natural law in the theory and practice of European international society. From then on it was taken for granted that to enter this society, it was necessary for states to subscribe to the values or standard of civilisation, that prevailed in Europe. Two hundred years later, however, in the twentieth century, Bull observes a retreat from the earlier confidence that the members of international societies were states and nations ëtowards the ambiguity and imprecision on this point that characterised the era of Grotiusí.
By developing a conception of world society and linking it to international society, the English school have been able to draw a distinction between pluralist and solidarist conceptions of international society. In the former, the conception of world society is low, whereas in the latter it is well developed. A debate has opened up within the English school about the respective merits and limits of pluralist and solidarist international societies. It follows that the English school has taken on a critical theory dimension because the debate reflects a profound concern about the potential for human emancipation. The English school, therefore, is not only concerned about analysing the history of international relations, it is also concerned about the moral implications of current and future developments in the international arena.
Conclusion
The main aim of this paper has been to demonstrate that the English school approach has been informed by methodological and ontological pluralism. As a result of adopting this approach, the English school has laid the foundations of a very broad ranging research agenda. The parameters of this agenda, however, have been no more than hinted at. For example, although the English school recognise the importance of adopting a sectoral approach to analysis, they focus almost exclusively on political and social sectors. Despite acknowledging the importance of economics, there has been a reluctance by the English school to embrace this sector wholeheartedly. Having said that, members of the English school frequently acknowledge the importance of trade as an international institution. It follows that the English schoolís underlying logic clearly demonstrates that to understand international relations it is necessary to identify and investigate all relevant international sectors. And although the methodological implications of this position have not been explored in depth - a task that still needs to be undertaken - it is assumed that it is useful and necessary research task to explore international relations sector by sector as well as looking at how these sectors interrelate.
The English school have also made it very clear that progress in the study of international relations requires more comparative and historical analysis. There is a growing amount of research from this perspective that may not be directly influenced by the English school, but nevertheless fits in with its broader research agenda. An obvious weakness with this approach has been the tendency by members of the English school to adopt a Eurocentric perspective. The assumption that European institutions and values are somehow superior to those of other international societies can and has been challenged. But it has been done so by following the route of comparative analysis. What the English school have demonstrated, however, is that progress in the study of international relations requires a much longer historical perspective and a build up of comparative case studies. Following this route, it has become clear that the emphasis on anarchy and polarity in the contemporary discipline has come about at the expense of examining international relations from a world historical perspective. The link between Toynbee and the English school helps to explain why the interest in world history approach is embedded in the English school approach.
The English school agenda also embraces a significant critical and normative dimension which has become increasingly significant for younger scholars in the 1990s. The current focus on humanitarian intervention, however, should not mask the longer and deeper concern about the relationship between the developed and developing world. Epp, for example, notes the importance of the process of decolonisation and the third world for the English school. This concern about the future direction of international relations is informed and considerably enriched by the comparative and historical research of the English school because it displays a considerable interest in the normative frameworks embedded in part international systems.
The current interest in the English school is in many ways remarkable because the work of the founders is relatively limited in scope. Nevertheless, Butterfield, Bull, Wight, and Watson collectively provide a framework and research agenda which is much broader and more embracing than any of the competitive approaches. The breadth stems from the pluralistic nature of the approach. Not everyone is convinced of the desirability of pluralism. It is argued that the resulting analysis is often ëindeterminateí. No doubt more thought needs to be given to the methodological and epistemological implications of such an approach. But given the fragmented nature of the contemporary discipline, it certainly seems worthwhile to give some support to an approach that aims to draw the disparate threads together.
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