Historical Analogies – Uses, Misuses, and Prudent Applications
Daniel Clausen worries that a reliance on historical analogies for contemporary policy discourse invites shallow and uncritical commentary.
Our discourse on international politics is overflowing with historical analogies. When it comes to the renewed attractiveness of authoritarian governments, we are told that our times are similar to the dark 1930s when fascism was at its height. When it comes to the deployment of tariffs by the current US president, we are presented with the analogy of the Smoot-Hawley tariffs that deepened the Great Depression. With regard to the US conflict with China, we are warned of a “Thucydides Trap”—using the analogy of the conflict between Athens and Sparta as a template for great power conflicts past, present, and future. When discussing the current AI boom, we are asked to reflect on the follies of the dot-com bubble.
There is a strong allure to historical analogies. Analogies can be a powerful tool—they provide an easy template for understanding our present. They offer the comfort that we are “learning from history so as not to repeat it.” For political reasons, too, they have a strong psychological sway. Throughout the Cold War and beyond, the example of the Munich Conference of 1938 and the policy of “appeasement” were used as a cautionary tale and shorthand for the need to stand up to bullies and aggressors (see Rasmussen’s article).
However, we must also be conscious of the ways our moment in history is different. For example, the Thucydides Trap—the tendency for dominant “status quo” powers to come into conflict with rising “revisionist” powers—looks much different now that major powers possess nuclear weapons. There is also the specter of climate change, which has very little analogy in history (except at local scales). Thus, the cloud of planetary destruction overshadows all that feels familiar (especially with the 1930s). With regards to current discourse on the development of AI, a narrow focus on economic exuberance overlooks the way that recent technological developments could potentially change the very nature of humanity, ushering a posthuman future (see the work of Harari and Lee and Quifan).
The pitfalls of historical analogies have been covered in a range of academic books and articles (see for example, Khong’s classic book, Kornprobst’s article, Leira’s article, and Rasmussen’s article). The guiding principles of many of these works is that historical analogies are employed with too little caution.
One example may help illustrate this point. As discussed earlier, the lesson of the Munich Conference of 1938, that leaders need to demonstrate resolve in facing aggressive powers, was frequently wielded to encourage policymakers to use force. The example of Munich was deployed by President Lyndon B. Johnson as a rationale for intervening in Vietnam (see Rasmussen’s article). However, following the debacle of the Vietnam War, that war became its own lesson about the need for the US not to get bogged down in quagmires. These lessons would then crystallize into the “Powell Doctrine,” which, among other points, encouraged policymakers to avoid using force in places of peripheral interests, clearly define objectives, and fully consider the consequences of military action. Now, when decision-makers need guidance about the use of force, they must contend with these two historical analogies—the legacy of Munich and Vietnam (now also Afghanistan and Iraq) / the legacy of appeasement and the legacy of military quagmires.
The problem is that both historical analogies might apply to a situation in different ways—or their very prominence may overshadow a more poignant analogy. More likely, their frequent usage in policy discourse will invite shallow and uncritical application, often in conjunction with someone’s own personal biases.
If I could summarize my misgivings with historical analogies simply, it would be this: Historical analogies can sometimes be too illuminating, providing a sharper image of what we are seeking to analyze when a fuzzier picture would be more useful (see my earlier article here). Some simple ways to improve beyond the initial analogy include: considering a broader number of comparisons; utilizing multiple comparisons and testing their merits against one another; seeking criticisms or rebuttals for your own comparison (also known as red team analysis); understanding the differences and similarities of the comparison; and adding descriptive nuance to a comparison by forefronting the differences of your comparison. In all of these approaches, one should avoid using historical analogy as a substitute for nuanced thinking.
Thus, use historical analogies (as learning from history is overall a good thing), but do so with caution, humility, and nuance.
Daniel Clausen is a full-time lecturer at Nagasaki University of Foreign Studies. He is a graduate of Florida International University’s Ph.D. program in International Relations. His research interests vary widely from Japanese foreign policy to English language teaching. His research has been published in Asian Politics and Policy, e-International Relations, Electronic Journal of Contemporary Japanese Studies, The Diplomatic Courier, and Culture and Conflict Review, among other publications.
Photo by Kelly
