Lecture at the Diplomatic Academy of Ukraine
16 October 2002
What I Wish I Had Taught
By Dr. Allan E. Goodman, President and CEO
INSTITUTE OF INTERNATIONAL EDUCATION
I chose the topic I did for two reasons. The first is that I have no regrets
about any of the faculty I hired. My first was a person who was just then leaving
government service, an expert on Poland, whose father was a Czech diplomat/professor
that fled communism and went on to mentor Dr. Condoleeza Rice. She was also
a protégé of Dr. Zbigneiw Brzezinski with whom she worked at the
National Security Council. And we actually team taught a course for many years
together. She became our Secretary of State. Other faculty included two UN ambassadors
(Donald McHenry and John Negroponte), one National Security Advisor (Anthony
Lake) and several assistant secretaries of state. Of course, we also hired "regular"
academics who wrote all the books that the practitioners should have read. The
aim was to give students at the School of Foreign Service a blend of theory
and practice, as they, like you, prepared for international affairs careers
in the public and private sectors.
The second reason for my topic is that I am not mad at my own mentors for not
having prepared me for the dangerous world in which we now find ourselves living.
I studied under Henry Kissinger (who today serves on the Institute's Board of
Trustees) and did my Ph.D. dissertation under the supervision of Samuel P. Huntington.
Their names and writing are still much in the news, of course, but what I gained
most from their courses and tutelage was an appreciation for the dynamics of
international relations, especially those driven by ideas (correct as well as
faulty) and the workings of civil society. With two degrees from Harvard and
all on scholarships, I was about as well prepared for these past 30 years as
one could have wished.
The truth is that probably very little could have prepared any of us for what
happened. I tended to specialize and tilt my courses toward the future; beside
my joint course with Madeleine Albright, I developed a large lecture course
on the "Future of the International System" and a seminar on "Forecasting
and Analysis." Central to such courses was starting with a vision of the
future and then examining the dynamics likely to come into play as reality unfolded.
I got some things right like globalization, the terrorism that produced 9/11,
and the fall of the Berlin Wall. I just never judged the time correctly. For
example, in October 1989, I predicted in a lecture to visiting West German scholars
that their country would be united "by the end of the decade," a prospect
they all thought was unimaginable in their lifetime. What I actually had in
mind was the end of the 1990s, not the events which unfolded a month after my
lecture.
Not everyone was so lucky.
The other course that Dr. Albright taught was on the "Foreign Policy of
the Soviet Union." I found her one day in the fall of 1990 at the entrance
to the campus throwing away what appeared to be old files and many lecture notes.
She was in despair because she was scheduled to teach the course I just mentioned
in the spring term of 1991, when the USSR would no longer exist.
Prior to 1997, one of the most hotly-debated topics in academic as well as
governmental circles in America as well as Asia was the issue of the "clash
of civilizations," a thesis advanced by my dissertation mentor. He was
looking for a way to make sense out of the post-Cold War era and to predict
its disorders. He ran into a maelstrom of criticism over his characterization
of societal norms and cultural value systems. His critics in Asia especially
saw Huntington's analysis of Confucianism as anti-individualistic and tolerant
of authoritarianism as evidence of a plot to deny Asia nothing less than the
future. The perceived U.S. government policies that flowed from Huntington's
approach, moreover, were seen as the equivalent of a form of economic containment
aimed at thwarting the so-called Asian miracle and a last-ditch effort by a
jealous West to deny Asia its rightful place as owner of the 21st century.
You don't hear much talk about the "Asian Century" these days. Instead
we are seeing a new map of the post-modern world emerge as the international
system "right-sizes." In just ten years, the international system
has increased the number of countries in it by 20; population is growing at
the rate of 90 million a year, more than twice what the growth rate was just
a decade ago, suggesting that even more new countries may lie ahead. In the
process, what constitutes a country and how it is held together is changing.
And information and ideas -- the great reserve currencies of the educator's
world -- flow so readily across borders, languages, regions, and cultures that
regions of many countries conduct foreign political and commercial relationships
with regions of other countries in ways that the central government can barely
monitor and no longer effectively control.
The conjunction of the end of the Cold War, the advent of globalization, and
all that the terrorism of 9/11 brought in its wake have changed the nature of
international relations faster than our ability to understand it in theoretical
terms. In fact, and in virtually every issue of Foreign Affairs and Foreign
Policy magazines these days, we are engaged in a vigorous but unresolved debate
about what the present era is all about. So far, all we can agree on is what
it is not -- e.g., not the Cold War, not bipolar, not a system of world politics
driven only by nations, and not one where ideology appears to matter very much.
Consequently, we have no reliable guide to gauging the impact of ideas and the
various forms of power or even of nations when they possess large supplies of
both. So far, the spirit of the era is best-captured by Vaclav Havel: "this
is an age in which everything is possible and nothing is certain."
The best any of us can say is that there are forces at work which we only imperfectly
understand but which are changing the world of the educator at the same time
that they are changing the space inhabited by diplomats and businesspeople.
So what would I teach?
In no particular order, my syllabus for a person preparing to be a diplomat
today (or attempting to make sense out of what is going on in any capacity)
would include:
--the fall of communism (or who really won the Cold War and how),
--the rise of NGOs and the nature and dynamics of modern civil society,
--why wars happen and how best how to prevent them,
--the implications of globalization for governance,
--what the UN does well and not so well, and
--the three issues that their professors thought might appear on the proverbial
radar screen in the next 10 years (but not sooner than the next 5).
I would also ask students to examine three decisions taken by a leader or a
government with which they are familiar but with which they disagreed. The assignment
would require assessing all of the alternatives and charting a course that would
have led to the decision they preferred.
What might be contained in and the value of these topics - as well as what
I am leaving out -- are matters which I hope we will have an opportunity to
discuss.
Now all of this amounts to more courses than a single professor can teach and
more than a single course could possibly contain. But if viewed another way,
we are entering an age where none of us have all the answers. So perhaps our
job is to encourage students to raise the questions and engage as many resources
as possible in their search for answer.
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