More troubling, though, is whether the turn to nationalism and nativism will threaten the global order—the balance of power that favors freedom. Here we might ask whether history is repeating itself. Or, as Mark Twain said, whether it is at least about to rhyme.
The statesmen who inherited the broken postwar world of 1945 built a system that trusted free markets and free trade to create an international economy that would grow. They were chastened by the memory of the 1930s when beggar-thy-neighbor trading policies, protectionism, and conflict over resources led to the Great Depression and World War II. This time, they insisted that the international economy would not be a zero-sum game. Countries would find comparative advantage, trade freely, and all would benefit. For the most part, they succeeded, restoring the economies of both the victors and the vanquished—and spreading prosperity to hundreds of millions of people across the globe.
They believed too that democratic governments in Germany and Japan would never make war again. The western part of Germany was encased in the European Union so that it could be powerful but not dangerous. There it waited for the time when the collapse of communism allowed the unification of all its territory as a stable democracy. Japan too would become a constitutional monarchy—prosperous and free and no threat to its neighbors. And free markets and free peoples would all be protected by American military power. This time, America would not withdraw and leave the world to its own devices. The United States would make a remarkable pledge to Europe: “An attack upon one is an attack upon all.” In commitments to Japan and eventually South Korea, the United States would become Asia’s shield against aggression.
Democracy has gained adherents in the context of this global order—though admittedly in fits and starts. Can it continue to do so if America and others withdraw from the responsibilities of the system they created? What will happen to those who still seek liberty in a world told to go its own way? What becomes of those still living in tyranny if we cease to tell others that democracy is a superior form of government and that its tenets are universal?
We cannot possibly know the answer to those questions, but we do know that the Four Horseman of the Apocalypse—populism, nativism, protectionism, and isolationism—served neither democracy nor peace very well the last time around.
We can take solace in the fact that democratic institutions are stronger this time. Germany and Japan do not cast a shadow of aggression—they are stabilizing forces for good. But the same cannot be said about Russia and perhaps China—authoritarian states that seem determined to disrupt the global order—if less violently than those who came before.
The victory for democracy is that those who longed for change have done so through it, not around it. But if the lessons of 2016 are to be learned, both insurgents and those who wish to defend the global order will be required to step back and accept some very hard truths.
The standard-bearers for those who voted to shake up the system need to find the humility to know and accept democracy’s paradox: Its genius is in its openness to change, but its stability comes through institutions that embody constraint and reject absolute power. They will find that it is easier to tear down democratic institutions than to build them and work through them. And they must now deliver real prosperity for those who trusted them—not just assign blame to foreigners and immigrants who “take their jobs.”
On the other hand, those who would defend the status quo—the postwar global order—need to admit that there are those who have not shared in its prosperity and are troubled by its rejection of more traditional values. In this regard, the trend toward dividing people into ever-smaller groups, each with its own particular grievance and narrative, comes at the expense of the unifying identity that all democracies need. This is especially true in the United States, where “we the people” has no ethnic, national, or religious basis. We reinforce those divisions at our peril.
Global leaders also need to accept that there is a growing gap between those who are comfortable breaking down borders and barriers between peoples—and those who find it dizzying and even threatening.
In my classes at the Graduate School of Business at Stanford, I often encounter a student with roughly the following profile: He was born in—let’s say—Brazil; then went to school in—let’s say—London. This hypothetical student’s first job was in—shall we say—Shanghai. And after graduate school—in Palo Alto—my student will go to work in Dubai.
But many people never live very far from where they were born. It is not surprising that their experiences, aspirations, and fears are not the same. Increasingly, neither are their possibilities for a productive life.
America’s Founding Fathers understood that liberty was the necessary condition for citizens to find fulfillment. It is not, however, sufficient. Human beings have to have the opportunity to develop their potential through education. A country that fails to provide all its people with equal access to education will most assuredly be a place of hardened inequality. In that regard, no foreign power can do more harm to us than we can do to ourselves.
The Founders’ prescription can be achieved—the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. But that achievement involves taking a hard look at the realities facing so many Americans and making a commitment to address their fate. With that would come the confidence, as a nation, to insist that we are better off when we work to make this true not just for us—but for all humankind.
DIANA WALKER / GETTY IMAGES
When President George H. W. Bush visited Solidarity’s birthplace of Gdańsk, Poland, alongside its leader, Lech Walesa, in 1989, they were met by thousands of dockworkers chanting, “Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!” It must not have been what Karl Marx had in mind when he said, “Workers of the world, unite!”
ULLSTEIN BILD
Italian dictator Benito Mussolini coined the term totalitario, meaning “All within the state, none outside the state, none against the state.” Totalitarian regimes prohibit life outside the state. Authoritarian regimes allow some free space, but none for politics. Quasi-democratic regimes have a semblance of democratic institutions, but they are weak and corrupted. Only democracies have institutions that are resilient enough to protect their people’s rights in the long run.
NATIONAL ARCHIVES
The signing of the Declaration of Independence was a milestone in human history. In addition to its assertion that “all men are created equal,” the document contains emotional and even hyperbolic criticism of British rule, reminding us that a revolutionary moment is not always the most propitious time for a rational discussion of how to secure newly won rights.
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America’s founding documents served as inspiration for the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, adopted by the United Nations General Assembly in 1948. “All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights,” it says. Spearheaded by former first lady Eleanor Roosevelt, the declaration details the fundamental rights that all people deserve—and that only democracies can deliver.
Dred Scott was a slave who was taken to a free state by his owner. He claimed he should therefore be free. Ruling against him in 1857, the U.S. Supreme Court said African descendants, free or enslaved, were never intended to be protected by the Constitution.
SHEL HERSHORN / GETTY
The integration of the University of Alabama in 1963 was an important moment in the civil rights movement. It also vivified conflicts over federalism and civil-military relations. Here, General Henry Graham of the Alabama National Guard, acting on orders from President John F. Kennedy, instructs segregationist governor George Wallace to stand aside from the schoolhouse door.
GEORES DEKEERLE / GETTY
Russian president Boris Yeltsin confronts weakened Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev on August 23, 1991, shortly after Gorbachev suffered a coup attempt by communist hard-liners. The simultaneous collapse of Soviet institutions with the rebirth of the Russian state hampered the subsequent attempt to establish democrac
y.
ALEXANDER ZEMLIANICHENKO / GETTY
Vladimir Putin has returned Russia to its authoritarian roots. Yeltsin chose Putin to succeed him in part to protect the ill-gotten gains from his presidency. Not content with snuffing out hopes for democracy in Russia, Putin has worked to undermine democratic governments around the world.
BETTMANN / GETTY
Electrician Lech Walesa rallies support during the 1980 strikes at the Lenin shipyard in Gdańsk, which gave rise to the independent trade union Solidarity. Polish communists eventually cracked down on the group and declared martial law. Solidarity nevertheless survived underground and was prepared to take the reins of power when the opportunity arose in 1989.
VIKTOR DRACHEV / GETTY
Ukraine has had three revolutions since its independence in 1991. Pictured here are the leaders of the 2004 Orange Revolution, Viktor Yushchenko and Yulia Tymoshenko, who went on to be president and prime minister, respectively. Yushchenko was poisoned during his run for the presidency, and Tymoshenko was jailed for several years after her term.
CHRIS HONDROS / GETTY
Non-democratic rulers often hold sham elections to portray a façade of democracy. That was even the case in Saddam Hussein’s Iraq, where political dissent was often met with a death sentence. Shown here, Iraqis vote in their first free national elections in January 2005. They have held several free elections since.
BEHROUZ MEHRI / GETTY
Elections sometimes have consequences even if they are not free and fair. Thousands of Iranians defied a protest ban in June 2009, after what they said was the rigged reelection of President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, whose victory was announced almost as soon as the polls closed. It was the largest uprising since the 1979 revolution, and the regime cracked down brutally in response.
URIEL SINAI / GETTY
Dueling claims of victory after Kenya’s second free presidential election led to ethnic violence and more than one thousand deaths. Under a power-sharing deal brokered by Kofi Annan (left), President Mwai Kibaki (center) secured a second term, and his challenger, Raila Odinga (right), joined the government as prime minister. Five years later, Odinga ran for president once again. When he came up short, no violence followed, and he accepted the result after it was certified by the Supreme Court.
PIERRE-PHILIPPE MARCOU / GETTY
After decades of battling a narco-terrorist insurgency, Colombia has turned the corner toward peace. Former president Álvaro Uribe promised “democratic security” and worked tirelessly to strengthen the institutions of the state. He is pictured here in 2005 with Carolina Barco, former foreign minister and ambassador to the United States.
KAREN BLEIER / GETTY
Liberian president Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, called “Ma Ellen” by her people, has been determined to strengthen Liberia’s institutions while delivering for the population. She is the first female head of state in Africa. Here we are at a development event in 2007.
SHAWN THEW / GETTY
At my swearing-in ceremony at the State Department in 2005, I was accompanied by my uncle Alto and aunts Mattie and Gee, as well as President George W. Bush. The oath of office was administered by my Watergate neighbor Ruth Bader Ginsburg, with a portrait of America’s first diplomat, Benjamin Franklin, hanging in the background.
Acknowledgments
The seeds for this project, which were planted in my youth, came from my experiences growing up in Birmingham, Alabama, and the examples set by my forebears. To a remarkable degree, my parents and relatives—and even my ancestors before them—continued to believe in the Constitution despite the long odds stacked against them. Their faith in the promise of democratic institutions shaped my own views, which are reflected in these pages, and in my life’s work. My thanks, first and foremost, go to them.
I could not have completed this book without the help and support of the Hoover Institution and Stanford University. My special thanks go to Roberta and Steven Denning, whose professorship I hold at the Stanford Graduate School of Business; Hoover director Tom Gilligan and his longtime predecessor, John Raisian; and my dear friends and supporters Tom and Barbara Stephenson, whose chair I hold at Hoover. There is no better place to teach and do research than Stanford University.
Many people at Stanford and elsewhere—friends, experts, and former colleagues—took time out of their busy schedules to assist me with this book. I owe a significant debt of gratitude to Nancy Biffar, Niall Ferguson, Mary Meeker, and Janine Zacharia, who were generous enough to review the entire manuscript. Their feedback was tremendously helpful.
Others agreed to provide insights on different sections or chapters, including Carolina Barco, Jendayi Frazer, Steve Hadley, Steve Krasner, Anja Manuel, and David Welch, all of whom participated in the extraordinary events described in this book. Other participants in these events helped by answering questions or sitting for interviews, including Bob Gates, Alberto Gonzales, Jim Jeffrey, Zalmay Khalilizad, David Kramer, Barry Lowenkron, Dina Powell, Connie Rice, Jack Straw, Shirin Tahir-Kheli, and former Colombian president Álvaro Uribe. Several colleagues at Stanford were kind enough to read parts of the manuscript or answer questions as well, including Randy Bean, Chip Blacker, Kate Casey, Larry Diamond, Lazar Fleishman, Francis Fukuyama, Ayaan Hirsi Ali, David Holloway, David Kennedy, Mike McFaul, Abbas Milani, Sarah Shirazyan, and Amy Zegart. I greatly admire all of you and appreciate your willingness to lend a hand.
While writing this book I have relied on the support of many talented and dedicated people. Charles Nicas, my research director at Stanford, has been my partner in this process at every step of the way. In recent years we have watched as the story of democracy has continued to unfold, from the aftermath of the Arab uprisings, to Russia’s aggression against Ukraine, to the U.S. presidential election of 2016. Throughout these events, and at every stage of the writing process, I have relied on Charles to keep me well updated and informed. He has been a sounding board for me and his advice and counsel has been immeasurably important.
One of the best parts of being at Stanford is working alongside some of the best students, and we would have been hard pressed to put together a better group than our research team for this book. Many of our research assistants were students in my classes; others started as interns in my office. All of them worked diligently to produce high-quality research while juggling course work and extracurricular activities, including in some cases Division I athletics. Our full-time research assistants, who worked with us in the summer months, included Patrick Cirenza, Jack Hennessy, Robert Kupstas, Matthew Levy, Geo Saba, Zach Sorenson, Elliot Stoller, and Aditya Todi. Our part-time research assistants, who worked with us during the school year, included Brendan Austin, Joseph Begovich, Matthew Colford, Conner Crane, Natalie Davies, Matthew Decker, Deirdre Hegarty, Jessica Renier, Katie Rovelstad, Kona Shen, Wayne Taylor, Molly Welch, and Meredith Wheeler.
I am very fortunate to have the support of a devoted staff, who have assisted me in writing this book in a variety of ways, not least of which was finding time on my schedule for me to write. Special thanks go to my extraordinary chief of staff, Georgia Godfrey, who has provided insight, advice, and friendship throughout this process. I want to thank too the steadfast members of my wonderful team—my event director, Shannon York (and her predecessor Elizabeth Sadler); and my office manager, Jules Thompson (and her predecessor Caroline Beswick), who always found ways to juggle my many commitments so that I could prioritize the writing of this book. I am grateful too for my longtime assistant Marilyn Stanley—for her tireless work on my behalf. Wayne Kabak of WSK Management, always a source of sage advice and an insightful reader, helped immensely in the production of this book and in finding the perfect home for it.
And last but not least, there are my partners at Twelve, who have been instrumental in bringing this book to fruition. Sean Desmond, my exceptional editor, helped me think through many thorny issues while trying to speak to multiple audiences. Thanks, Sean, for making this a better book than I e
ver could have produced without you. He and others at Twelve, including Carolyn Kurek and Rachel Kambury, have worked hard to strengthen this book in both substance and form.
To all of you—many thanks for your guidance, friendship, and patience.
About the Author
Condoleezza Rice is the Denning Professor in Global Business and the Economy at the Stanford Graduate School of Business and a professor of political science at Stanford University. From January 2005 to 2009, Rice served as the sixty-sixth secretary of state of the United States, the second woman and the first African American woman to hold the post. Rice also served as President George W. Bush’s assistant to the president for national security affairs (national security adviser) from January 2001 to 2005, the first woman to hold the position. Born in Birmingham, Alabama, Rice earned her bachelor’s degree in political science, cum laude and Phi Beta Kappa, from the University of Denver; her master’s from the University of Notre Dame; and her PhD from the Graduate School of International Studies at the University of Denver. Rice is a Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences and has been awarded eleven honorary doctorates. She currently resides in Stanford, California.
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