Fear and loathing in globalization
I was born in 1978 in the United States. I have a few memories of important international political events from the 1980s, but not many. I watched the 1986 Challenger Shuttle explosion live in my elementary school classroom. The 1987 Iran-Contra hearings were mysterious, but I still recall seeing Oliver North’s testimony on television. I have recollections of Democratic candidate Michael Dukakis’ silly tank-ride photo-op during the 1988 U.S. presidential election campaign. Manuel Noriega’s rendition to the U.S. during the invasion of Panama somehow stayed in my memory. I remember watching scenes of “tank man” at Tiananmen Square and the fall of the Berlin Wall, both in 1989.
Mostly, however, my political coming of age occurred in the 1990s, and as a cynical Gen X-er I was blithe about U.S. assumption of unilateral global power. Fukuyama’s “End of History” claim was premature, but it fit the American zeitgeist and I was an avatar. My teenage and early adult years were marked by unchallenged U.S. security, rapid economic growth, full employment, low inflation, etc. A blue sky of opportunity. One seemingly didn’t need to plan anything — just follow one’s interest. To borrow from Hunter S. Thompson, there was a sense that whatever we were doing was right. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave.
Because the openness of the world seemed natural, teleological, inexorable, I didn’t appreciate globalization. But much of the world did. Global markets, reduced poverty, the microcomputer revolution, the Internet 1.0 and the beginning of accessible international travel and migration made the world a better place.
Of course there were darks sides: the Monica Lewinsky scandal, genocide in Rwanda and the Balkans, “Black Hawk Down” and the disastrous beginnings of contemporary U.S. counter-terrorism, Russian and Asian financial crises, environmental degradation, etc. These problems of globalization were, of course, signs of the "Return of History." And to again bowdlerize Thompson, from today’s vantage point, when looking back at the late 1990s, with the right kind of eyes, you can almost see globalization’s high-water mark — that place where the wave finally broke and rolled back into the sea.
But the openness of globalization has been slowly closing. Economic integration and freedom are regressing with tariffs, supply chain weaponization and beggar-thy-neighbor policies. Travel and study abroad have become more difficult, with heightened visa screening, bureaucratic hurdles and fees. Economic migration has started to decline due to stricter immigration policies and quotas. We are more digitally connected than ever —that produces data for surveillance and monetization — but physical access to the far reaches of our smaller world is beset by inter-state mistrust.
Worse still, while legacy globalization has rolled back, it has also been perverted, as security risks have become more globalized. In a rare historical moment, three major geographic conflict theaters are now interlinked: the Euro-Atlantic, the Middle East and East Asia. The Russia-Ukraine war in the Euro-Atlantic theater involves more than just the U.S., Canada and European NATO. North Korea has supplied Russia with troops and weaponry. China provides Russia an economic lifeline and military components. Iran has sent drones to Russia. Meanwhile, South Korea and Japan are privileged NATO partners, with South Korea in particular boosting its standing with munition backfills to the U.S. and a growing role as a weapons supplier to European states worried about further Russian aggression.
The war in the Persian Gulf is similarly cross-theater in nature. The U.S. and Israeli attack against Iran has caused a crisis in NATO, with virtually every capital outside Washington deeply opposed. Amazingly, Ukraine has provided drone assistance to the U.S. and Gulf states during the conflict. Russia has provided Iran with drones and satellite intelligence for targeting U.S. forces, while receiving an economic windfall due to elevated hydrocarbon prices, thus helping its Ukraine war aims. Against Seoul’s wishes, U.S. Forces Korea has sent missile defense assets to the Gulf region. China has assisted Iran with military equipment and satellite imagery. And although the whole world is affected by higher oil and gas prices due to the blocked Strait of Hormuz, Asia (including South Korea, Japan, Taiwan and China) and Oceania are particularly vulnerable due to overreliance on Middle East hydrocarbons and downstream refined products.
Overarching all of this is the East Asia theater, with the U.S.-China rivalry and the North Korea regional threat particularly implicated. China, the U.S., Taiwan, Japan, the Philippines and both Koreas are learning military lessons (notably on drones, air defenses and blockades) from the wars in Ukraine and the Persian Gulf. North Korea has received military technology from Russia. Washington’s unpredictability and intemperate fallout with NATO allies over Iran have sharpened questions in Seoul, Tokyo, Taipei and Manila regarding the reliability of U.S. defense commitments against China and North Korea.
How we got here is a complex story, but globalization’s 1990s promises have soured. What we are left with is really existing globalization: madness in any direction.
Mason Richey is a professor of international politics at Hankuk University of Foreign Studies and president of the Korea International Studies Association.