The last 20 years has seen a significant shift in political attitudes towards foreign conflict and war. Bird spotters of the late 20^th century would recognise instantly the dichotomy of the rightist Hawks and the Leftist doves. The modern hawk-dove dichotomy has its origins in the Cuban Missile Crisis, becoming a way of labelling the Kennedy’s decision-making process at the time. Quickly these terms spread to characterise policies related to the Vietnam war, with usage continuing into the Cold War and beyond.

This dichotomy of Right=Hawk and Left=Dove is far from being a fixed association. We only need to look toward the beginning of the 20^th century to clearly see the bloody streak of left-wing communism throughout Europe and Asia, embodied in the revolutions of China and Russia. Similarly, America’s inter-war non-interventionalist was prominently pushed by right-wing sentiments centred on non-alignment and domestic prosperity. 

In the modern era, we are witnessing yet another shift of the political tides, with the hawks and dove fleeing to new nests. Recently, radical left-wing philosopher Slavoj Zizek claimed that the left ought embrace law and order in support of the Ukraine, much to the ire of the leftist doves of old. On the right, we see fracturing in the opposite direction; former Vice President Mike Pence was seen defending the support of the Ukraine waragainst a wave of republican’s more concerned with domestic affairs. While it may seem like a simple case of reversal, that would be to forget the 21^st century’s biggest political position – the centre. 

A Sticky Centre

 The creation of ‘neoliberalism’ in the 1970’s set the scene for a dominant political ideology that would come to define the approach to nearly all issues in Western states – international conflict included. 

In simplistic terms, neoliberalism was the point at which growing international trade (buoyed by free market incentives and deregulation) meshed with growing international politics (embodied in groups such as the UN and WTO) to produce a political position that was, by definition, ‘the establishment’. Driven by a globalisation of markets, which bonded states together economically, and justified by a globalisation of values, which joined countries together morally, a political position emerged which swallowed the centre. 

National defence isolationism, which has been historically supported by both the left and right, became untenable in a world which was increasingly interdependent. At the beginning of the 21^st century, we thus see in the Afghanistan and Iraq campaigns the emergence of global governments which, ideologically speaking, united the centre and pushed the wings into uneasy alliances. The neoliberal ‘coalitions of the willing’ subsequently saw commitment to Middle Eastern campaigns regardless of governmental swings between left- and right-wing parties. The continued policy positions within the US (through Bush and Obama) mirrored that of the UK (through Blair and Cameron) and Australia (through Howard, Rudd then Gillard) – irrespective of the traditional associations between dove/hawk and left/right. Thus, the designation of hawk and dove became indicators of how the War on Terror should be carried out (more troops vs more drones), not whether it should continue in the first place. 

The sticking point in this arrangement was the melding of compromises which saw the centre swallow the centre-left and centre-right. It could offer the moralism typically favoured by the left through support to the UN and notions of Universal Rights, while also appealing to the centre-right through growing privatisation and market expansion. In this world of compromise, a campaign such as Afghanistan was thus sold to the public as an anti-terrorist military task with subsequent national building, while then being sold to the markets as a feeding frenzy of privatized military contracts to the tune of $5 trillion.  To say neoliberalism lost Afghanistanwould be to assume the aim to begin with was winning – what seems clear is that indecisiveness was the result of a compromise that was destined to get bogged down in its own rhetoric and contradictory beliefs from inception.

Nesting In Ukraine

Alternatives to the neoliberal centre have most prominently been provided by the right throughout the proceeding decade. Embodied by the populist position of Western leaders such as Trump, Johnson and Orban the desire has been to reject the globalist vision (both economic and moral) supported by the establishment. The commonality of this populist push rests in general distrust of government, a dislike of multicultural societies and a desire for inward focused policies. 

Such a move toward nationalist populism has thus provided an easy steppingstone toward growing disenchantment with the War in Ukraine, even if only as a by-product of ever-increasing domestic concerns. Aware, even if only unconsciously, of how Middle Eastern conflicts played out, the more radical elements of the right are finding themselves disengaged from the centre and subsequently opposed to supporting Kiev financially, even if moral support maintains. As Foreign Policy notes, within the US this dynamic wraps around to those on the far-left who offer similar critiques for similar reason, creating some ‘strange bedfellows’ indeed. 

The problem for the left is simple – it is yet to formulate a concrete alternative to the sticky neoliberal centre. Ill-fated forays such as Brexit and trade isolationism aside, the populist movement appears to be gaining global steam which raises the question of continued support for international conflict. Those who on the left who had previously opposed Iraq find themselves uneasily agreeing with the far right on economic policy amidst domestic cost of living crises. Far from being a fringe issue, we see now broadly a left which is uncomfortable at formulating and justifying a position on spending big in geopolitical conflicts given a rich history of criticising the right and centre for needless and expensive military campaigns.

Undoubtably the moral high ground lies with Ukraine, who should be supported. However there seems to be a distinct lack of ‘leftist’ alternatives offered by Western politics over than to furrow their brows and eventually cede to the centre. Neoliberalism’s internal logic here provides a standard ‘double win’; social messaging surrounding international institutions and solidarity appeals broadly to the progressive class while the financial profiteering to be made from conflict hooks the capitalists. 

The issue is not so simple as deciding whether to support Ukraine or not, but rather to decide what the alternative path of progressivism is in the realm of international conflict – especially with the rise of ‘communist’ China increasingly taking centre stage as the strategic issue of our lifetime. With the far-right looking inward, sacrificing the extremities, perhaps now is again the time of the left to look outward and push through the veneers of progress that neoliberalism appears to offer.