Saturday, May 30, 2009

Book Review: How Does It Feel To Be A Problem? Being Young and Arab In America

In How Does It Feel To Be A Problem? Being Young and Arab In America, author Moustafa Bayoumi tells the stories of seven young Arab and Muslim Americans who he claims to be victims of racial profiling and discrimination resulting from the American government's efforts to defeat the “war on terror.” He begins his book by citing American civil rights activist W.E.B. Du Bois, who wrote The Souls of Black Folk in 1903 in an attempt to expose readers to black culture, thereby bridging the gap between African-American minorities and Americans who viewed them as a problem. Bayoumi's goal, like Du Bois', is to elaborate not only the culture of Arab and Muslim Americans, but to, with their experiences, paint a picture of how difficult it is to be America's newest minority. Bayoumi explains that while the American creed of fairness is “supposed to mean that we ought to be judged not by our religion, gender, color, or country of origin, but simply by the content of our individual characters ... The terrorist attacks, the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, and the explosion of political violence around the world have put that dream in jeopardy for American Arabs and Muslims” (3).

Profiled in the book are young Arab-Americans from Brooklyn who have fought against the American system to find a bit of equality for themselves and their families. From Rasha, whose family was profiled and imprisoned as suspected terrorists, to Sami, who worked his way up the military ladder to fight against his own people in Iraq, to Yasmin and Omar, who worked to find equality for Arabs and Muslims in the school and workplace, Bayoumi writes engaging pieces that highlight the struggles of these people. Furthermore, the book details how many of these individuals were lead to America either by being driven out of their own country or to capitalize on the country's motto of “the land of opportunity.” Unfortunately for these individuals, they seek opportunity in America at a time when the country is on the attack against anyone vaguely similar to those terrorists who perpetrated the events of 9/11. As Bayoumi explains, “While it could be said that profiling other groups was officially un-American, profiling Arabs and Muslims made good national security sense” (4). This profiling has created numerous problems for young Arabs and Muslims in America. Their lives are now dictated by national security, which means their jobs and careers become unstable, and they are on the constant defense of their ethnicity.

In the Afterword, Bayoumi blames America for being imperialistic, for attempting to control the Middle East and its people for its own financial gain. He cautions against this, stating that “political theorists of empire have repeatedly cautioned that the consequences of imperialism can reach far beyond the colony” (268). Bayoumi is unmistakably Neomarxist in his assessment of the situation. He views America not as a benevolent hegemony to the world, but as an imperial power determined to create a monopoly on the world. 9/11 gave America a reason to justify military operations in the Middle East, as well as a reason to completely overhaul federal law enforcement to prevent further terrorism within America's borders. Arab and Muslim Americans have become Bayoumi's proletariats, as the American government has been determined to keep their presence and importance in the country minimal. While many examinations of Neomarxism (like Michael Hardt and Antionio Negri's Empire) are difficult to interpret, Bayoumi's book is a good case study for the theory of empire. It is the theory of empire in action. His book is certainly positioned against the American theme of Manifest Destiny, and he uses poignant examples to explain how this type of imperialism is dangerous to human rights worldwide. “What we are currently livng through,” Bayoumi explains, “Is the slow creep of imperial high-handedness into the rest of American society, performed in the name of national security and facilitated through the growth of racist policies”( 269). The only way to retaliate against the empire is through resistance, he claims, and the efforts of the young Arabs and Muslims portrayed in his book are simply the first step in the right direction.

Work Cited
Bayoumi, Moustafa. How Does It Feel To Be a Problem? Being Young and Arab In America. New York: The Penguin Press, 2008.

Journal: Gender and Fatal Attraction

Cynthia Weber's assessment of gender in International Relations is my favorite in her book so far. She makes a clear, concise argument against Adam Jones' essay “Does 'Gender' Make the World Go Round? Feminist Critiques of International Relations” (82) In this piece, Jones explains how feminist agendas have detracted from their efforts to attain true equality, and that by changing terms from “feminism” to “gender,” men will not be short-changed by the demands of equality by women. Jones makes the claim that “gender is a variable” in IR, and that the only way to have a balance of power is if masculine concerns are addressed as well as feminine issues (83). He claims that “feminists' use of the gender variable has been biased from the start against men and masculinity,” and that “feminism is unbalanced, even irrational” (88). By analyzing the gender relationships in the film Fatal Attraction, Weber takes on Jones' gender myth in an attempt to determine if the variable of gender is being placed purposefully, or if gender is a worldview, as feminist V. Spike Peterson claims (89). If gender is a tool through which we see the world, it certainly cannot be a variable to be moved around like a chess piece.

I, like Weber, have no sympathy for Dan, the movie's protagonist. From the onset of his relationship with Alex, he manipulates both her gender and his own for sexual gratification. He shows her moments of weakness (the comment about men's insecurities muttered at the bar upon their first meeting and his story about Madame Butterfly), and constantly chalks up her moments of weakness as irrational. Alex is certainly a young woman plagued by mental issues. Sure, she agreed upon a verbal contract for a one-night stand, but Dan broke that contract by staying with her the entire weekend. While her actions are extreme, they remind me of my early 20s, when I was awash with the emotionalism that comes to most women at that point in their lives. Alex had not been used the first night; she agreed to that. However, as Dan weakens beneath her pleas, he begins to give their relationship meaning beyond their contractual agreement. Throughout the movie, his reactions to her actions confused me. “Who has the power here?” I kept asking myself. As Weber explains, Dan seems to do just fine when he can keep Alex within the confines of “normal” femininity, but when she demands to be treated fairly, he has problems. The entire film seemed like a chess game, with each player counteracting the other's movements. The biggest problem, however, is Dan's inability to turn away from Alex for good. If he were to successfully reject her, she would surely call his wife and tell her about the affair. So, to keep her cool, Dan makes unmistakably bad moves, like moving in for a final hug when all the woman asked for was a handshake. Time and time again, Dan's actions lead Alex on a little further, making her a little less rational. It must be hard for her, after all, having been used for the weekend, knocked up, and tossed aside. I cannot blame her for craving the family life that Dan already has. Of course, her actions go too far, but that could've been countered by an earlier confession of adultery by Dan.

In the final section of Weber's gender chapter, she parallels the threat Alex brings to Dan's normal family with the threat feminists bring to traditional IR. She explains that feminism challenges the “norms” of IR just like Alex challenged the “norms” of Dan's family situation. When looked at this way, gender doesn't seem to be a variable at all. If Dan could've kept Alex in check throughout, then maybe gender could be considered a variable. However, gender is the view through which all of these characters see their world. Weber makes some very valid points against Jones' argument, although I agree with his re-branding of “feminism” and use of the term “gender.” If IR theory is to recognize the feminist agenda, it must do so through a gendered worldview where feminine and masculine concerns can both be addressed. Jones' argument, however, is just like the chess game Dan and Alex were involved in. It seems just when the female side of the gendered conversation speaks up, the male side must reply. To me, this seems a power struggle that could go on forever, or at least until there are more women present in IR. I don't like to call myself a feminist, but I do have a bitter edge, like Weber, when women try to make their claim for equality (equality among both sexes, not just power handed to women on a silver platter), and men respond with undeniable fear that their piece of the pie is being taken away.

Work Cited
Weber, Cynthia. International Relations Theory: A Critical Introduction. 2nd ed. New York, NY: Routledge, 2005.

Journal: Constructivism and Wag the Dog

In chapter four, Cynthia Weber tackles the myth behind Constructivism (introduced by Alexander Wendt in 1992), which declares that “anarchy is what states make of it,” and that anarchy can either be cooperative or conflictual depending upon the states' identities and interests (60). She outlines Wendt's definition of Constructivism, explaining that Wendt put much emphasis on the question, “who is the author of international anarchy?” Weber argues that a more important question is how social practice shapes us to believe that there even is an author of international anarchy. Through the film Wag the Dog, she demonstrates how a seduced public tends to “reify” their world, meaning that they accept a socially constructed world as one that already exists as is; social shaping is “out-of-sight, out-of-mind.” This is particularly unsettling, because as Weber explains, “...this reification of authorship is terribly clever because there is no guarantee practices can reliably be traced to authors” (68).

Wag the Dog successfully portrays how easily major political events can be “produced,” and how seducing this production is to the public. It also shows that individual human beings are responsible for these manipulations, even though “the state” receives the credit for its actions. Constructivism allows for the production of international anarchy by states, but it fails to allow us to examine the authors behind the states' decisions. Weber blames this shortcoming on the lack of emphasis on state practice. As it is, Constructivism accepts anarchy as a structure that exists regardless of a state's reaction to it, just like Realism. Constructivism also tries to make a place for the behavior of the state, determining that it has the choice to either react cooperatively or conflictually. Wendt agreed that anarchy is a structural principle that makes states behave in a competitive, self-help manner, but thought that if practice amongst states could be restored, then the structure of anarchy could be avoided. By this, he meant that if we can recognize that our processes result from our social interactions, then we might be able to alter our practices - identities, interests, and institutions - and in turn, how we approach anarchical situations. Weber concludes that even this route misses the point. Constructivism still holds the state accountable as the author of international anarchy, therefore removing any accountability from the individual human beings whom are “wagging the dog.” Finger-pointing aside, this theory doesn't even explain how practices allow us to accept that there is an unknown author. Without understanding how, change to the Constructivist perspective is limited. States cannot be expected to change their policies without first changing (or even recognizing) their practices.

Wag the Dog emphasizes how the media contributes to this “seduction” and “reification.” Identities, interests and institutions are constructed and reconstructed before the public's eye through the media. The public tends to “reify” the world based on what they see on television with their own eyes. The seduction of “seeing is believing” takes hold of mainstream America even though we know the entire farce has been produced. Most importantly, however, the film focuses on the producer and his invisibility. For any production to be deemed successful, its producer must remain unknown and uncredited. “For if we knew about all the special effects and all the dramas behind the drama, we would lose interest in the drama itself,” says Weber (73). Because the public craves this form of dramatic entertainment, I am unconvinced that it will be willing to give up its reification of the world in order to learn who the true producers are. At the same time, Constructivism teases the public by telling it that states can be their own authors of international anarchy, but it stops short of holding the actual individual decision-makers accountable. I agree with Weber's assessment of the myth, which determines that the wording is misleading. If “anarchy is what states make of it,” then who is doing the interpreting?

Work Cited
Weber, Cynthia. International Relations Theory: A Critical Introduction. 2nd ed. New York, NY: Routledge, 2005.

Journal: Idealism and Independence Day

In Chapter 3, by analyzing the film Independence Day, Cynthia Weber deconstructs the idealistic myth that “there is an international society.” This statement, derived from the studies of Charles Kegley, assumes that anarchy can be replaced by the collective cooperation of community, and that in a world where “anarchy is the permissive cause of war,” social networks within and beyond a state's borders are the surest route to international security (39). Through her discussion of the film, Weber determines that the theory “there is an international society” may not hold much weight, because, as in the film, all states within the international society do not always participate in making decisions for the greater good. This action is neither collective nor cooperative. In Independence Day, the US and its president operated as the sole orderer, making decisions for all of Mankind, not just for the safety of its own country. Weber claims that, in this instance, the US domestic society has been extended internationally because it is a superpower with the ability to serve as a hegemon to the world (55). Therefore, there is no “international society.”

Kegley's three images of political analysis are similar to Waltz's – they are located at the individual, state and international level. However, Kegley is not focused on the presence of anarchy at the international level (41). Instead, he sees the potential for conflict at all levels, and claims that the individual level is from where good ideas come. Good humans with good ideas can certainly breed a successful domestic society within a democracy, which can overflow into the international arena. However, not all states are democratic. As Weber explains, many nation-states are autocratic, and their rulers might not be “good” people. These dictatorial leaders ignore the good ideas of their good subjects, and therefore, anarchy is always possible in international relations (44).

The theory “there is an international society” is rooted in the fact that humans are social creatures who thrive on communication with one another. Idealism is founded upon the notion that humans are inherently good, and that they are willing to work cooperatively in order to achieve a common goal. Much attention is paid to the themes of communication and good intents in Independence Day. First of all, the importance of pure communication is stressed. The president represents corrupt communication, and it isn't until he is engaged in a telepathic connection with an alien that he determines their intents are ill and that he can make a decision to react against the intruders. He was unable to do so until then, because, like a true idealist, he thought of the aliens as inherently good and possibly capable of moral progression. When he does choose to “Nuke the bastards,” the signal is sent to military worldwide through Morse Code, one of the simplest, purest, most universal forms of communication available.

Weber's discussion of idealism leads her to, once again, point out the missing element from the myth she's deconstructing: fear (53). When analyzing the myth, “anarchy is the permissive cause of war,” Weber determines that fear is the one element missing from Waltz's work. Again, with the myth, “there is an international society,” Weber finds the need for fear in the equation. If an international society does exist, and states elect to act beyond their own self-interests to benefit the world, it exists because fear in an underlying factor. For example, when the British soldiers in Independence Day receive a Morse Code message from the US preparing them for a counter-offensive on the aliens, one says, “It's about bloody time” (54). Because they fear their demise, these men seem grateful for the US's efforts to protect the world. The film projects the US as the savior of the world, which isn't too far-fetched considering the hegemony our nation has created world-wide. However, this still does not support the theory of an international society because not all nations are represented in the retaliation. The US made the decision, the US gave the orders, and the US will get the credit. Fear allows the US to capitalize on the opportunity to save the world. Without it, the US would not be quite as welcome to use its power internationally. But when the world is in danger, the power with the most resources will certainly be welcomed to the table.

Work Cited
Weber, Cynthia.International Relations Theory: A Critical Introduction. 2nd ed. New York, NY: Routledge, 2005.

Journal: Realism and Lord of the Flies

In Chapter 2, Cynthia Weber sets out to deconstruct Kenneth Waltz's myth “international anarchy is the permissive cause of war” (14). Waltz examines a three-part system when trying to explain why wars occur. This system begins with the individual, proceeds to the state, and concludes with the international system. In Man, the State, and War, Waltz argues that anarchy creates war, focusing on individual human nature and the likelihood for men to “behave badly.” Men “behaving badly,” of course, leads to insecure social organizations, therefore introducing anarchy within a sovereignty. However, in his later discourse, Theory of International Politics,Waltz extends his myth of anarchy to the international arena (16). Weber is quick to point out one element missing from Waltz's claim: fear. Through her analysis of the film The Lord of the Flies, Weber demonstrates that fear is a necessary element leading to anarchy.

Anarchy is established the moment the boys crash on the island. No adults are present, and the boys act quickly to conform to a more hierarchical system that they're familiar with. The first order of business is to elect leaders, and Jack and Ralph are chosen to represent the others. Next, the boys decide that, since they are Englishmen, they should create and follow rules. “After all, we're not savages,” one of the boys says. A conch shell found on the beach becomes the symbol for law and order, as only he who holds the conch is permitted to speak. Finally, the boys begin to organize themselves into groups. Thus far, the boys have reacted to anarchy very characteristically, trying to make sense of the illogical. Their human nature initially reminds them that it is in their best interest to work together. However, as time passes and the boys lose hope for rescue, Jack's intentions change, and he turns his mode of action from rescue to survival. When this breakdown of unity occurs, it is accompanied by a new element, the element of fear.

As Jack's team now focuses on hunting boar and finding sustenance for survival, Ralph and Piggy in particular are ostracized for focusing on waiting for rescue. A deep divide occurs between the two factions when Jack's team is out killing a boar in the jungle as a plane flies overhead on the beach. Jack's boys, caught up in the killing, let the signal fire go out, probably preventing the plane from seeing the stranded boys. A whole host of negative emotions – anger, dissent, blame, failure – flood Ralph and it is evident that the two groups are no longer working toward a common goal. It is at this point in the movie when fear rears its ugly head. While out killing, Jack's boys claim to see a beast. This new threat weakens any chance of the group working together. Once fear is introduced, the boys revert to what Waltz talks about first, man's selfish, and sometimes “bad” behaviors.

Jack is representative of your typical megalomaniac, who clearly abuses the power bestowed upon him. He throws bananas at Ralph and Piggy as the others eat boar; he takes Piggy's glasses by force, a very war-like maneuver; and he discredits the rules by ignoring the conch. Worst of all, he stands back as one of his boys pushes a rock over, killing Piggy, the voice of reason in the tale. By this point, anarchy has become fully-actualized, and the boys seem to have forgotten their initial intentions – to get rescued. Jack has taken on the position as a tribal leader, and he now seems to hold all of the power, as Ralph has retreated into the jungle since he is outnumbered.

Anarchy quickly gives way to the hierarchy the boys were previously accustomed to when a Naval officer appears on the beach with a boat, ready to rescue the boys. The camera pans to the faces of both Jack and Ralph. Jack appears quite defeated, and Ralph offers a sly smile. Ralph promoted working together more than anyone, and in the end, he was all alone. However, he managed to survive as easily as did Jack and his boys. Regardless of the outcome, it is evident that fear played a major part in the anarchy which abounded on the island. Waltz states that “anarchy is the permissive cause of war,” but as Weber claims, “anarchy alone is insufficient to cause or even allow for conflict. Anarchy requires fear to differentiate the behavior of those acting within it from their behavior within anarchy” (31).


Work Cited

Weber, Cynthia.International Relations Theory: A Critical Introduction. 2nd ed. New York, NY: Routledge, 2005.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Constructivism and the Threat of Change in Deadwood

Change ain't lookin' for friends. Change calls the tune we dance to.

- Al Swearengen, Deadwood

The International Relations theory of Constructivism employs the myth, “anarchy is what states make of it,” suggesting that anarchy exists, and that states can elect to be either cooperative or conflictual in its presence (Weber 60). It also examines global change and our reaction to it, as well as the processes of social interaction. Realism focuses on the existence of anarchy amongst states, and Idealism highlights the possibility of avoiding it, but only Constructivism implements change and social process, which are necessary elements to analyze when determining how a state will react in the presence of anarchy. In his 1992 essay, “Anarchy is What States Make of It: The Social Construction of Power Politics,” Alexander Wendt asks, “Who is the author of international anarchy?” (Weber 61) In other words, if a state elects to participate in international anarchy, exactly who can be held responsible for such a decision? It might seem reasonable to hold a state's leading actors accountable, but as K. M. Fierke reminds us, “It is not that actors are totally free to choose their circumstances, but rather that they make choices in the process of interacting with others, and, as a result, bring historically, culturally, and politically distinct 'realities' into being” (168-169).

David Milch's HBO television series Deadwood exhibits just how important the themes of change and social process are in the face of anarchy. Set in the 1870s in the ungoverned, unclaimed, lawless camp of Deadwood, which had not yet been annexed into the Dakota Territory, the series semi-historically portrays the survival of the camp's inhabitants in the face of change. The show begins just six moths after the founding of the camp, and while many want to make their home in Deadwood close to its rich gold mines, few find the strength to hold their own in the face of its brutality. The first season supports the foundational principle set forth by Realism, that “anarchy is the permissive cause of war” (Weber 14). The purpose of the first season is to describe the lawlessness of the camp and to show that, without annexation, Deadwood is indeed an anarchical place to live. The only man willing to take on the responsibility of watching over the camp's security is Al Swearengen, the owner of the local Gem Saloon, a bar and brothel. In season one, he is challenged by a new Deadwood resident, Seth Bullock, a former Montana sheriff who wants to bring order to the camp. By the end of the season, Swearengen concedes to share the power with Bullock, and both men are considered the camp's watchdogs.

Season two briefly plays on Idealism's anarchy myth, which states that “there is an international society” (Weber 38). This myth suggests that, despite anarchy, states can overcome their differences for the greater good. Throughout the season, Deadwood begins to thrive. Bullock has become the new sheriff with a new deputy on his side, and some order has come to a once lawless society. A new hardware store, telegraph, and brothel arrive on the scene. Alma Garret, the widow of a gold claim seeker, has opened a bank. Deadwood is awaiting annexation into the Dakota Territory, and is preparing to hold elections. Business is booming in the camp, but change is on the horizon. This change, and the camp's reaction to it, will determine its future. It as at this point in the series when Constructivism comes into play. Through competitive, self-help behavior, members of the camp, as well as the camp's impending enemy, will construct realities that will best enable them to survive.

Residents are optimistic about the camp's annexation, until George Hearst, a successful California businessman and prospector, expresses interest in the camp's riches, threatening the Deadwood way of life. The threat of Hearst's presence in Deadwood comes before he physically arrives. Rumors of this prospector's interests make it into the camp ahead of him, creating a fearful curiosity amongst the residents. Near the end of season two, before we have seen the elusive Hearst, he sends a geologist, Francis Wolcott, to examine the camp's gold supply. Soon after his arrival, he murders three prostitutes at the new brothel, encouraging its owner, Joanie Stubbs, to send her remaining prostitutes out of Deadwood. Soon after, Hearst has a load of Chinese prostitutes hauled in to the camp. When they're overseer, Mr. Lee, burns the bodies of dead, malnourished prostitutes in the streets of Deadwood's Chinatown, a fellow Chinaman, Mr. Wu, who has operated in Deadwood for some time now, enlists Swearengen to help him end the atrocity. Wendt explains that “prior to social interaction, there is no such thing as a social threat,” and that “it is identities that produce collective meaning like social threats” (Weber 66). Although there has been no social interaction between Hearst and the camp's residents, those in his employ and their actions give him an identity, which, after these initial incidents, certainly seems threatening. In an act of retaliation and defense, Swearengen and Wu take back the reigns of this new reality by enacting vengeance on Lee, sneakily slitting his throat while he sleeps in Chinatown. This scheme is devised by Swearengen, who will soon become engaged in a series of reality reconstructions through the ordeal with Hearst.

Season two ends with Hearst's physical arrival in Deadwood. He makes it known that he is “only interested in the color,” meaning he wants the gold and nothing more. He is a ruggedly individualistic man who cares for social interaction with none other than his “nigger cook,” who takes care of him. His carelessness for the well-being of others is soon exhibited when he begins to stage the murders of his own miners, who have been trying to form a union. One such murder takes place in The Gem Saloon, Swearengen's business. Not only does Hearst wish to send a message to his “unruly” miners, he wants to send a message to the camp's highest authority, letting him know exactly how he does business (what he “makes of” anarchy) and who Swearengen is dealing with. This production unfolds before the public's eye, as most of these exchanges of constructed realities do occur in Deadwood. Both Swearengen and Hearst begin producing their reactions to one another's maneuvers in broad daylight. Swearengen is intent on banding the camp together against Hearst, and Hearst is intent on showing Deadwood his true nature, and his unyielding confidence strikes fear in the hearts of Deadwood's residents.

In an attempt to reassert his position in the camp, and out of anger at the murder in his saloon, Swearengen cancels the upcoming political debates. It becomes clear that Swearengen is no longer the camp's main decision-maker when Hearst punishes his decision by having his henchman, Captain Turner, restrain Swearengen while he cuts off one of his fingers. Hearst also makes it clear that he wants Swearengen to help him buy the banker Garret's gold claim. This display of force only gives Swearengen's henchman, Dan Dority, the desire to retaliate by fighting Captain Turner. In a long, drawn-out, bloody battle in the main fairway in Deadwood, and just before he is almost drowned in a puddle by Turner, Dority gouges out one of Turner's eyes and finally beats him to death with a club. Swearengen later finds out that Hearst instructed Turner to make the fight last as long as possible, even if at some point he had the upper hand. He is disillusioned in his attempt to retaliate against Hearst once more, never quite prepared for what he has to return. Through this public brawl, Hearst has shown that the streets of Deadwood will be brutal as long as his presence exists. “Anarchy is what states make of it,” and Hearst certainly takes advantage of the lawlessness in the camp.

After Hearst brings a militia of henchmen to Deadwood, Swearengen calls a meeting among the camp's elders to decide what action to take. The group decides to publish a letter, written by Bullock to one of Hearst's miner's families, subtly highlighting Hearst's foul nature. Their hope is that those outside of the camp, but still within the territorial jurisdiction, will form an opinion about Hearst and, in turn, vote for Bullock in the upcoming election. A strong arm will be needed to handle Hearst, after all, and Bullock's opponent, Harry Manning, is a meek and mild man who likely couldn't stand up to the challenge. The result? A.W. Merrick, the editor of The Deadwood Pioneer, is beaten by one of Hearst's men for his decision to publish the letter.

Hearst shows that he means business when he has Garret shot at as she walks down the Deadwood fairway to open the bank one morning. This is an obvious attempt to scare her into selling her claim, and to inspire others to encourage her to sell. Swearengen takes her into The Gem Saloon and watches out for her until he can devise a retaliation. Before the end of the day, members of the town unite to make a protective path for Garret to proceed with her walk to the bank. In the meanwhile, Hearst has Garret's husband shot and killed. When she learns this news, she decides to sell her claim to avoid further bloodshed. “Anarchy is what states make of it,” and even if it means concession, Garret is not willing to be a producer of war.

The final illusion between Swearengen and Hearst occurs when one of Swearengen's prostitutes, Trixie, opens Hearst's hotel room door, shoots him in the chest, and runs, leaving him for dead. However, the shot was not fatal and Hearst returns to Swearengen, demanding Trixie's death in return. Since Swearengen holds Trixie dear to his heart, he murders Jen, a less-worthy prostitute, in hopes of passing off her body as Trixie's to Hearst. As soon as Hearst is fooled by the switch, he announces his plans to leave Deadwood, putting another local brother owner, Cy Tolliver, in control of his mining affairs in the camp. As the third and final season of the show draws to a close, Swearengen and Wu put together an army to battle Hearst's milita, and Bullock receives news that Hearst may have cost him the election by bribing people outside of the camp to vote against him. The show ends with both parties on the brink of war, with the newly-appointed Tolliver at the helm. Tolliver is a long-time Deadwood resident who was forced into working for Hearst earlier in the season. The final scene shows Tolliver pointing a gun towards Hearst, who is walking away from the disruption he caused, but he is unable to pull the trigger. One wonders what Tolliver will “make of” this anarchy.

Deadwood reminds us that even if the authors of anarchy can be traced, there are no international institutions to hold them accountable. Most all of the actions and reactions that take place between Swearengen and Hearst take place in broad daylight, in front of the Deadwood public. The actors, in this instance, are well-known. But, still, Deadwood is a lawless place where anarchy resides, just like the international territory that sovereign nation-states encounter. Even if Swearengen and Hearst are to blame for these war crimes, who will hold them accountable? Perhaps after Deadwood's annexation, and stipulations for law and order are set, justice can be served. But even then one can argue whether or not Swearengen and other Deadwood residents have more jurisdiction in the ungoverned territory than does Hearst, who is just trying to make a living like everyone else. How are one's interests more valued than another's? Weber talks about focusing on the social practices within a state, which, in turn, determine how its actors will behave in the face of anarchy. If Swearengen's state is one that elects to be cooperative, and Hearst's state is one that chooses to be conflictual, what third party decides if those choices are reasonable or not? In International Relations, there is no arbitrator who decides who is right or wrong for choosing to declare to war. Even when Hearst's actions are clearly immoral, Swearengen's reactions are still questionable. But as Wendt explains, “Self-help and power politics are institutions, not essential features of anarchy. Anarchy is what states make of it” (Weber 63). Swearengen's type of behavior was necessary for Deadwood's survival, even if his techniques don't fall far from Hearst's. Hearst saw Deadwood as an anarchical playground where he could ravish the inhabitants' way of life to make a dime. Swearengen saw Deadwood as his home, a place worthy of defense and protection and capable of growth, and Hearst as a dangerous intruder who threatened the interests of the camp. “Anarchy is what states make of it,” and these two men both take advantage of the lawlessness of the territory. The difference is Swearengen does so for the greater good of the camp, and Hearst does so only to further line his pocket.

Constructivism's fundamental theory, that “anarchy is what states make of it,” is well-supported by the plot of Deadwood. It highlights the themes of change and social practice when determining how a state will react to the threat of war. Because Deadwood's residents were so fearful of the change presented to them, they put their faith in Swearengen, the man in camp most capable of taking on Hearst. Their social practices were permitting of his decisions, which although many times immoral, were one step less immoral than Hearst's. At the point when Swearengen loses a finger to Hearst, he recognizes that he's no longer in control of the situation, and that the social practices of people living in a lawless society permitted Hearst to stake his claim in Deadwood in the first place. Weber complains that Wendt's version of Constructivism focuses too little on social practice and too heavily on identifying the individual actors behind anarchy (76). She argues that it is impractical to hold a state's actors accountable when they are only making decisions based on what is considered “normal” amongst the state's citizens. And even when a state's actors in anarchy can be identified, who is responsible for their punishment? Just like the lawless Deadwood, International Relations exist in ungoverned territory. As Tolliver fails to shoot Hearst in the back as he walks away from the mess he's made in Deadwood, the only hope for the dissolution of anarchy in the territory is it's annexation into the policy-oriented world, which could bring security and stability to the camp. Weber would argue that for Constructivism to be truly successful, Deadwood's residents must respond to this change by altering their social practices. Only then can Deadwood be an inviting and flourishing society free from the threat of anarchy.

Works Cited

Fierke, K.M. “Constructivism.” International Relations Theories: Discipline and Diversity. Ed. Tim Dunne, Milja Kurki, Steve Smith. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2007. 168-169..

Weber, Cynthia. International Relations Theory: A Critical Introduction. 2nd ed. New York, NY: Routledge, 2005. 14, 38, 60-76.