The biggest mistake of traditional economics is to treat the individual as rational. The biggest mistake of national leaders is to treat the leaders of belligerent nations as rational.
The irrationality principle
Wars that don’t end swiftly on the battlefield often evolve into sieges or siege-like states. A good example is the end of the second world war in the East. By the summer of 1945, Japan was strategically defeated. It had lost its empire and its navy, and had resorted to kamikaze attacks. Its industry was shattered by firebombing raids and it was blockaded, leading to a shortage of fuel and food. Japan was essentially under siege and its resources were running out.
Rationally, Japan’s leaders should have sued for peace but they did not. It is tempting to think this was all due to a wish to avoid personal retribution and war crimes trials, but extreme defiance surfaced in all aspects of Japanese society. When U.S. forces managed to capture Japanese islands at great cost, they found civilians willing to commit mass acts of suicide rather than surrender. Attachment to culture, the imperial system and national identity were more important to many Japanese people and their leaders than a swift end to the war and the limiting of casualties.
The allies essentially faced an irrational foe and as a result, made the terrible decision to unleash nuclear weapons against Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The world changed. Should they have done this, should they have fought their way onto Honshu, or should they have simply tightened the screws of the siege and waited? This is still a subject of debate.
From an American perspective, they were faced with an opponent whose decisions did not make rational sense.
Different perspectives
Hitler must have felt a similar sense of frustration in the summer of 1940. He had beaten the allies with his lightning raids through the Ardennes, capturing France and causing the British to chaotically retreat through Dunkirk, leaving much of their equipment behind. He had effectively won the war in the West and Britain was surrounded. He would cut off its supplies by sea with his Stukas, U-boats and S-boats, and the British would bleed dry. Another siege-like state. If they sued for peace now, they could keep much of their empire, but instead, they were behaving irrationally.
We can never have perfect knowledge when making decisions and Hitler’s divide-and-rule approach certainly did not aid in providing him with the best available intelligence. With the benefit of hindsight, we know that America later joined the war, that the battle of the Atlantic, while deeply traumatic, did not ultimately cut Britain off from supplies and that Germany did not have the resources to fight on the two fronts it chose to fight on. However, none of this was known to either side at the time and there were beliefs, such as about the invincibility of bombers, that made the situation seem even more dire than it was.
So, why did the British carry on and not accept what Hitler saw as his generous terms? Well, rationality assumes perfect knowledge, but actual knowledge is partial. Its meaning is then interpreted through a protagonist’s perspective and these can diverge wildly.
The Russian anti-imperialist
This was driven home to me last year at a conference when I met a Russian researcher. We started chatting and all was well. However, when I explained my situation—that I was born in Britain but had moved to Australia some years ago—she was shocked. She had thought I was Australian—I am—and the fact I was British mattered a great deal. I plummeted in her estimations.
This was because the researcher saw the British and their erstwhile empire as the source of all evil and oppression in the world. To her, the empire was about acquiring resources and the British had gone around the world stealing resources from others.
It is not that I was unfamiliar with this argument. Most people in metropolitan leftish circles, even in Britain itself, have signed up to the idea that the British Empire was a really bad thing. For me, the surprise was that this argument was being made by a proud Russian. What about the Holodomor, I thought. What about the Gulags? I did not mention these points, but I did gently note that Russia is the largest land empire the world has ever seen. Yes, the researcher conceded, but that was achieved in a collegial way and the different constituent nations wanted to join with Russia. There was a time when apologists for the British Empire made similar claims.
So, it wasn’t about stealing resources, then?
The point is that we see the world in different ways and some of these are irreconcilable. They are the product of indoctrination and this indoctrination goes on in every state, be it overt or tacit. I have a view of history that is refracted through the views of history I have encountered. To some extent, to belong to a national culture is to encounter a shared set of perspectives. We cannot simply look at the other to whom we are belligerently opposed and impose our perspective and our understanding of what is rational on them.
When we do so, we make mistakes like assuming a local population will be thankful for foreigners who come along and topple their despotic dictator or religious fundamentalist regime so they can enjoy the freedoms and economic fruits of liberal democracy.
This is, ironically, not rational.
Sanctions
So, what do we do when countries do appalling things?
If Japan in 1945 fought on under a crippling fuel and food blockage, what can we expect of leaky sanctions imposed by irresolute Western democracies on autocratic nationalistic regimes? For that matter, what can we expect of their effect even on other democracies? Sanctions are a kind of siege, but a half-hearted one. They assume that marginal changes in the economic position of the people of a country will be more important to them than any irrational adherence to nationalist romantic myths.
That misunderstands humans.
We may care not to trade with a partner who we think is behaving appallingly, but we cannot expect such a boycott to make that partner change their ways. If anything, it will feed romantic nationalism in their country by demonstrating that the outside world is out to get them—a propaganda win for a tinpot dictator. Populations often fight for their dictators against outside forces, even when those outside forces promise a better future.
In 1997, in a still shell-damaged Masaka, Uganda, I met a young man whose father had died fighting for Idi Amin against a 1979 invasion force from Tanzania led by the deposed Milton Obote.
Who fights for Idi Amin? Someone who is defending his home.