Can the “territorial integrity” of a nation-state be long sustained without the integrity of the society and its leaders? And is integrity sufficiently tangible as a quality that it can induce others to see it, respect it, accord it prestige, and bend to it?
This is a strategic factor defined in Sun-tzu’s maxim: “To win without fighting is the acme of skill.”
Much of the 20th century was devoted to the concept of the territorial integrity of nations, which was construed as meaning that the 20th-century borders of a state were to remain inviolate forevermore.
It was the key foundation of the League of Nations and patently failed to stop violations of territorial integrity, such as the separation from China of Manchuria as Manchukuo after Japan’s invasion in 1931, and the Italian attempts to seize Ethiopia, beginning in 1935.
This League of Nations policy, by which the “territorial integrity” of nation-states was “guaranteed” by the League’s members, led to numerous pacts, which, in turn, led to the inevitability of the war between the United States and Allies against Japan, and much more. It could be argued that U.S. insistence, as per the rules of the League of Nations of which the United States was not a member, on the “territorial integrity of China” would inevitably lead not only to war with Japan but also to the existence of the monolithic China of the 21st century that would challenge the United States.
We have to see the absolute defiance of history in this thinking.
Kingdoms, empires, and states have been in flux since time immemorial and will continue to come, go, change, prosper, or wither according to many factors, including the cycles of history.
The League of Nations, focusing on borders rather than people, led to World War II. The end of that war saw the creation of the United Nations (U.N.), which adopted essentially the same policy, focusing on geography rather than geopolitics.
It was as though 20th-century (and now 21st-century) society believed that the world they had created—a world they had seen constantly changing before their eyes—had somehow created a permanent definition of the matrix of nation-states, set in stone. It meant that each nation-state, once it had been accepted by the U.N., became actually responsible for the border security (the “territorial integrity”) of all other states. And that would imply that sovereignty—the right to succeed or fail on one’s own—had been taken over by the collective.
And it actually gave states the “right” to intervene in the affairs of other states.
It would have been the first time in history that such a “permanent and final” definition of states—based on the Westphalian model of 1648—had settled the architecture of the world for all time.
It did not settle that question.
It was akin to demanding that water remain in one place and at the same level, seeping away, evaporating, or leaching into new areas.
Of course, a nation-state’s “territorial integrity” is fundamental to its stable governance. It is, but it is not an absolute. And it is the responsibility of each nation-state to provide for its own security.
What, then, is more important to a nation than “territorial integrity”? Integrity.
Integrity covers much in a nation-state.
Creating a fortress state with impregnable walls is one thing. But what of the society inside those walls? If it enjoys integrity, nobility, and purpose shared among all elements of the hierarchy, then it can become strong and successful, and then the security of the borders is automatically guaranteed. The prestige of such a state extends outward, like a dynamic perimeter of influence into the world at large, guaranteeing trade, trust in its currency, and the prospect of peace and stability.
Let me quote my old colleague, Dr. Stefan Possony, who was wont to say: “Prestige is the credit rating of nations.” Prestige comes from integrity, nobility, and the confidence that a firm identity gives to a society. Absent prestige, all is lost.
Borders, which define the territory, change over time for many reasons. Empires and civilizations all have fairly predictable lifespans. Societies, often sclerotic and exhausted by success or just old age, become fragile, and corruption inevitably occurs from customs or entitlement. Parts of these societies may break away to preserve or renew old values and identity.
The League of Nations and the U.N. were naive—and heady with hubris—in their expectations that they had finally achieved the final architecture of humankind. The U.N. then witnessed a global change it had not anticipated: the world’s population rose from some 2.5 billion to nearly 8 billion today. And the wealth and health of that global population transformed beyond the 1945 expectations.
In other words, the world changed dramatically, and yet their philosophy was that the global architecture must not change, and all the countries collectivized under colonization or conquest were forever bound by their new identities.
So the world’s governments and “the world government”—the U.N.—remain committed to “territorial integrity” rather than the integrity of peoples. It is as though, like the presumably apocryphal story of King Canute (Cnut) in the 11th century, they could turn back the ocean tide. (Cnut reportedly undertook the attempt to prove that Man was, in fact, no match for God and nature; the current hubris of society is that Man can do what it will with nature, and that God, in any event, does not exist.)
Without evident integrity in leaders, societies lose their own integrity, or they lose all their faith in governments that they cannot remove and borders they cannot change. And without the prestige that integrity brings, the cost of defending borders and societies becomes infinitely higher.
When there is little prestige to deter aggression, the only resort is physical defense. And that can be very expensive.
