he election of President Donald Trump and the rise of “strongmen” across the world gave academics and political pundits alike a moment of pause. Questions of whether the democratic movement had reached its apex and would slowly recede were the topic of conversation in Washington and its European counterparts. Did Trump signify something inherently wrong with democracy? Did Brazil’s Jair Bolsonaro portend a generational shift in the country’s democratic experiment? Had President Vladimir Putin and General Secretary Xi Jinping of Russia and China, respectively, won? Leading figures like the Financial Times’ Gideon Rachman and Anne Applebaum penned books on the rise of the strongman leader and the ecosystem he brought with him.
On reflection, one would be forgiven for thinking that the risks of autocracy have faded from the stage. Trump and Bolsonaro are no longer in office, though the former is still in the running to return in 2024. Russia’s expanded invasion of Ukraine gave experts something else on which to ruminate and opine. Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelensky, rapidly became the democratic ideal—an elected leader standing up for his country in the face of monstrous barbarism, personified by the autocratic and increasingly authoritarian Putin. His country’s crime was only desiring freedom and independence, an end to spheres of influence and to turn toward the democratic West. Zelensky’s Kvartal 95 Studio—his entertainment and production company—could not have penned a better script for the resurrection of democracy’s fate.
For Charles Dunst, the author of “Defeating the Dictators,” the real solution to the autocratic ills of the world is not through the crucible of conflict abroad, but through the foundry of self-improvement at home. If the West can rehabilitate its flagging democracy, address its systemic inequalities, and establish a stronger foundation for the future, then autocracy will find itself under increasing pressure both by an emboldened West and through internal pressure from its own populations. It is certainly an attractive argument, but one that is too aspirational for its own good and treats the world not as it is, but as the author wishes it to be.
In “Defeating the Dictators” (a copy of which was provided by the author), Dunst outlines a robust program of domestic democratic rejuvenation and renewal. Overwhelmingly targeted at the United States, it encompasses everything from reforming the meritocracy, reestablishing trust in government, driving long-term planning, investments infrastructure, and immigration reform. Dunst offers both a diagnosis of democracy’s ills and offers prescriptions for its rehabilitation. He draws lessons, ironically enough, from successful autocratic regimes to inform this reform effort. Dunst is, not without reason, particularly taken by Singapore’s successes. While it may seem a touch odd to look to autocratic regimes for lessons on how to improve democracies, it is sensible to learn from success wherever it is found, provided it is tempered by context.
Dunst points to infrastructure investment and measures of confidence in government as indicative of autocratic energy, arguing that they seem to have a competitive edge, for now. In the long run, he sees democracy as triumphing, especially if efforts are taken to revitalize its constituent elements. While not simply a misreading of Francis Fukuyama’s “End of History” (as so many are wont to do), he does veer perilously close to democratic determinism. Democracy may be the clearest path to citizens’ happiness, but that’s overwhelmingly contingent on how one defines happiness, and how one defines democracy.
For “Defeating the Dictators,” Dunst assembled a deeply impressive set of endorsements from luminaries in both the United States and United Kingdom. It is not hard to see why British politicians like Lord Peter Ricketts and the Right Honorable Jeremy Hunt gave the book their thumbs-up alongside the likes of U.S. Senator Chris Coons and Lt. Gen. H.R. McMaster (among several pages of other notables). There is really very little that anyone on either side of the political aisle would find disagreeable in Dunst’s overarching argument or its subsidiary points.
Should democracies be more meritocratic? Certainly. Should we invest more in education and infrastructure? Absolutely! Should governments get better about long-term planning especially in the face of generational issues such as climate change? Most definitely. Do national social welfare programs and safety nets need both strengthening and reform? You better believe it!
Everyone can get behind the banner of “be better” or “do better.” It would take a particularly brave figure to disagree with Dunst’s diagnosis and prescribed solution. The problem is not in his articulation of high principles or his book’s overarching framework. The problem is in execution. Dunst has written a cogent book about improving democracy, but “Defeating the Dictators” falls short of outlining how to achieve the outcomes he envisions beyond high-level action statements. Strategy, in practice, is less about ends, ways, and means, and more about trade-offs and resource allocation. If everything is a priority, such as what Dunst outlines, then nothing is a priority.
Dunst’s assumptions (even if not fully articulated) of the value and virtue of democratic rejuvenation at home and its effects abroad do, nonetheless, raise several valuable questions for readers. While perhaps not his initial focus, it does add to the book’s intellectual utility.
There is an inherent tension in foreign policy—the balance of values versus the balance of interests. Should foreign policy be values-based or merely values-informed? Dunst appears to land on the former. For him, democratic promotion is an inherent good and, as such, the advancement of freedom should inform activity abroad. He oddly points to the art of Jackson Pollock as evidence enough of democracy’s transformative powers, unleashing artistic creativity unlike any other form of governance. One could argue that the monarchies of renaissance Italy inspired greater and more lasting art, that is a subject for a different book entirely. He notably, and thankfully, stops short of advocating democratic promotion by force—the 20 years of the War on Terror laid that naïve and fatuous hope to rest.
Where does the line between values and interests reside and what are the consequences for crossing from one to the other? Maintaining a moral high ground is easy in abstraction, but far harder to do in the face of geopolitical realities. To Dunst’s credit, he does note that autocratic tendencies of some regimes should not stand in the way of strategic interests, but it is a position that is at odds with the firmness of his earlier assertions.
Throughout the Cold War the United States maintained relations with countries of an autocratic variety (if not outright dictatorships) in the name of stopping communism and containing the Soviet Union. Even today, Washington pursues relations with countries whose policies seem to stand counter to what are ostensibly American moral values or principles. The vocal maintenance of those values in the face of those relationships smacks of hypocrisy for many, and not without reason. It appears autocrats and dictators are fine, so long as they are our autocrats and our dictators, standing with us against “them”—whoever they may be.
In the context of strategic competition, does it matter that Singapore is a one-party state? Arguably not. Does it matter that Vietnam is not totally free? Again, likely not, as it is largely aligned with Washington against China. India’s Narendra Modi presided over a particularly vicious strand of Hindu nationalism and has encouraged sectarianism in the world’s largest democracy, but Washington still needs Delhi in the Quad (a multilateral dialogue between Australia, India, Japan, and the United States) and on any number of other issues of vital interest. This is to say nothing of America’s love-hate, hate-love relationship with Saudi Arabia, a country that is anything but democratic and free (though arguably improving).
Foreign policy is only very rarely black and white. It is a spectrum of grays, but one with which the United States remains deeply and oddly uncomfortable despite its years of global leadership. It is a quintessential flaw in the American body politic. Policymakers and legislators like to act as though everything is black or white, good, or evil, except when it is not in Washington’s interests.
Ultimately, is democracy the natural end-state of political systems? That is a less certain prospect than it appeared after the end of the Cold War. China’s authoritarian capitalism appears stable for now, but demographic pressures, structural economic weaknesses, and environmental challenges may undermine the country’s long-term success, a point well made by Hal Brands and Michael Beckley in “The Danger Zone.” The social contract between the Chinese Communist Party and Chinese citizens may fray if the party cannot deliver on its economic promises, for which citizens have exchanged their freedoms.
Will a democratic rejuvenation in the United States lead to democratic expansion abroad and autocratic retrenchment? That is a less clear prospect, but one worth considering after reading Dunst’s book. If anything, the program he outlines would simply result in a better and more responsive democracy at home, provided one can overcome the persnickety challenge of politics. A more meritocratic government that plans for the long-term, provides more for its citizens and is more responsive, and embraces smart immigration, will result in a more prosperous and secure country. A wildly ambitious program that would be an unparalleled success in and of itself, the external benefits would merely be icing on the cake.
a global affairs media network
Confronting Autocracy Through Democratic Rejuvenation
September 2, 2023
The rise of autocratic leaders in recent years has experts questioning whether democracy in on an irrevocable decline. In his latest book, Charles Dunst argues that defeating dictatorship and preserving democracy starts at home, but fails to lay out a blueprint for doing so writes Joshua Huminski.
T
he election of President Donald Trump and the rise of “strongmen” across the world gave academics and political pundits alike a moment of pause. Questions of whether the democratic movement had reached its apex and would slowly recede were the topic of conversation in Washington and its European counterparts. Did Trump signify something inherently wrong with democracy? Did Brazil’s Jair Bolsonaro portend a generational shift in the country’s democratic experiment? Had President Vladimir Putin and General Secretary Xi Jinping of Russia and China, respectively, won? Leading figures like the Financial Times’ Gideon Rachman and Anne Applebaum penned books on the rise of the strongman leader and the ecosystem he brought with him.
On reflection, one would be forgiven for thinking that the risks of autocracy have faded from the stage. Trump and Bolsonaro are no longer in office, though the former is still in the running to return in 2024. Russia’s expanded invasion of Ukraine gave experts something else on which to ruminate and opine. Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelensky, rapidly became the democratic ideal—an elected leader standing up for his country in the face of monstrous barbarism, personified by the autocratic and increasingly authoritarian Putin. His country’s crime was only desiring freedom and independence, an end to spheres of influence and to turn toward the democratic West. Zelensky’s Kvartal 95 Studio—his entertainment and production company—could not have penned a better script for the resurrection of democracy’s fate.
For Charles Dunst, the author of “Defeating the Dictators,” the real solution to the autocratic ills of the world is not through the crucible of conflict abroad, but through the foundry of self-improvement at home. If the West can rehabilitate its flagging democracy, address its systemic inequalities, and establish a stronger foundation for the future, then autocracy will find itself under increasing pressure both by an emboldened West and through internal pressure from its own populations. It is certainly an attractive argument, but one that is too aspirational for its own good and treats the world not as it is, but as the author wishes it to be.
In “Defeating the Dictators” (a copy of which was provided by the author), Dunst outlines a robust program of domestic democratic rejuvenation and renewal. Overwhelmingly targeted at the United States, it encompasses everything from reforming the meritocracy, reestablishing trust in government, driving long-term planning, investments infrastructure, and immigration reform. Dunst offers both a diagnosis of democracy’s ills and offers prescriptions for its rehabilitation. He draws lessons, ironically enough, from successful autocratic regimes to inform this reform effort. Dunst is, not without reason, particularly taken by Singapore’s successes. While it may seem a touch odd to look to autocratic regimes for lessons on how to improve democracies, it is sensible to learn from success wherever it is found, provided it is tempered by context.
Dunst points to infrastructure investment and measures of confidence in government as indicative of autocratic energy, arguing that they seem to have a competitive edge, for now. In the long run, he sees democracy as triumphing, especially if efforts are taken to revitalize its constituent elements. While not simply a misreading of Francis Fukuyama’s “End of History” (as so many are wont to do), he does veer perilously close to democratic determinism. Democracy may be the clearest path to citizens’ happiness, but that’s overwhelmingly contingent on how one defines happiness, and how one defines democracy.
For “Defeating the Dictators,” Dunst assembled a deeply impressive set of endorsements from luminaries in both the United States and United Kingdom. It is not hard to see why British politicians like Lord Peter Ricketts and the Right Honorable Jeremy Hunt gave the book their thumbs-up alongside the likes of U.S. Senator Chris Coons and Lt. Gen. H.R. McMaster (among several pages of other notables). There is really very little that anyone on either side of the political aisle would find disagreeable in Dunst’s overarching argument or its subsidiary points.
Should democracies be more meritocratic? Certainly. Should we invest more in education and infrastructure? Absolutely! Should governments get better about long-term planning especially in the face of generational issues such as climate change? Most definitely. Do national social welfare programs and safety nets need both strengthening and reform? You better believe it!
Everyone can get behind the banner of “be better” or “do better.” It would take a particularly brave figure to disagree with Dunst’s diagnosis and prescribed solution. The problem is not in his articulation of high principles or his book’s overarching framework. The problem is in execution. Dunst has written a cogent book about improving democracy, but “Defeating the Dictators” falls short of outlining how to achieve the outcomes he envisions beyond high-level action statements. Strategy, in practice, is less about ends, ways, and means, and more about trade-offs and resource allocation. If everything is a priority, such as what Dunst outlines, then nothing is a priority.
Dunst’s assumptions (even if not fully articulated) of the value and virtue of democratic rejuvenation at home and its effects abroad do, nonetheless, raise several valuable questions for readers. While perhaps not his initial focus, it does add to the book’s intellectual utility.
There is an inherent tension in foreign policy—the balance of values versus the balance of interests. Should foreign policy be values-based or merely values-informed? Dunst appears to land on the former. For him, democratic promotion is an inherent good and, as such, the advancement of freedom should inform activity abroad. He oddly points to the art of Jackson Pollock as evidence enough of democracy’s transformative powers, unleashing artistic creativity unlike any other form of governance. One could argue that the monarchies of renaissance Italy inspired greater and more lasting art, that is a subject for a different book entirely. He notably, and thankfully, stops short of advocating democratic promotion by force—the 20 years of the War on Terror laid that naïve and fatuous hope to rest.
Where does the line between values and interests reside and what are the consequences for crossing from one to the other? Maintaining a moral high ground is easy in abstraction, but far harder to do in the face of geopolitical realities. To Dunst’s credit, he does note that autocratic tendencies of some regimes should not stand in the way of strategic interests, but it is a position that is at odds with the firmness of his earlier assertions.
Throughout the Cold War the United States maintained relations with countries of an autocratic variety (if not outright dictatorships) in the name of stopping communism and containing the Soviet Union. Even today, Washington pursues relations with countries whose policies seem to stand counter to what are ostensibly American moral values or principles. The vocal maintenance of those values in the face of those relationships smacks of hypocrisy for many, and not without reason. It appears autocrats and dictators are fine, so long as they are our autocrats and our dictators, standing with us against “them”—whoever they may be.
In the context of strategic competition, does it matter that Singapore is a one-party state? Arguably not. Does it matter that Vietnam is not totally free? Again, likely not, as it is largely aligned with Washington against China. India’s Narendra Modi presided over a particularly vicious strand of Hindu nationalism and has encouraged sectarianism in the world’s largest democracy, but Washington still needs Delhi in the Quad (a multilateral dialogue between Australia, India, Japan, and the United States) and on any number of other issues of vital interest. This is to say nothing of America’s love-hate, hate-love relationship with Saudi Arabia, a country that is anything but democratic and free (though arguably improving).
Foreign policy is only very rarely black and white. It is a spectrum of grays, but one with which the United States remains deeply and oddly uncomfortable despite its years of global leadership. It is a quintessential flaw in the American body politic. Policymakers and legislators like to act as though everything is black or white, good, or evil, except when it is not in Washington’s interests.
Ultimately, is democracy the natural end-state of political systems? That is a less certain prospect than it appeared after the end of the Cold War. China’s authoritarian capitalism appears stable for now, but demographic pressures, structural economic weaknesses, and environmental challenges may undermine the country’s long-term success, a point well made by Hal Brands and Michael Beckley in “The Danger Zone.” The social contract between the Chinese Communist Party and Chinese citizens may fray if the party cannot deliver on its economic promises, for which citizens have exchanged their freedoms.
Will a democratic rejuvenation in the United States lead to democratic expansion abroad and autocratic retrenchment? That is a less clear prospect, but one worth considering after reading Dunst’s book. If anything, the program he outlines would simply result in a better and more responsive democracy at home, provided one can overcome the persnickety challenge of politics. A more meritocratic government that plans for the long-term, provides more for its citizens and is more responsive, and embraces smart immigration, will result in a more prosperous and secure country. A wildly ambitious program that would be an unparalleled success in and of itself, the external benefits would merely be icing on the cake.
