Are decisions to go to war rational? According to international relations theory, we could assume as much. Despite the recognition that lack of information and warped perceptions play a role in states’ willingness to engage in warfare, the underlying assumption is that war is often the outcome of a utilitarian-like cost-benefit analysis based on (the perception of) threats.
But what about great powers’ decisions to go to war against smaller states that do not appear to be threatening? In comes Matthieu Grandpierron's Nostalgic Virility as a Cause of War: How Leaders of Great Powers Cope with Status Decline. Through qualitative and quantitative analyses of declassified and publicly available documents, Grandpierron argues that status-seeking and nostalgic virility is a strong predictor for war. To present this framework for analysis, the author studies three conflicts that did not fit the traditional mould for armed engagement—France's involvement in Vietnam, the United Kingdom's confrontation with Argentina over the Falkland Islands, and the United States's invasion of Grenada. What Grandpierron finds instead is that narratives emphasizing physical strength, “traditional virile values,” “moral and behavioural superiority,” “a positive understanding of a country's history and legacy,” and a “short time preference” (194) can be a strong predictor for a power's military confrontation with a smaller actor.
The mixed methodology and the inclusion of declassified and public documents serve Grandpierron well. His conclusions are compelling, supported by sound and clear analysis of primary and secondary sources. The author does not take his readers for granted and is very deliberate in his historical study. The ambition of the book, that of offering a new theoretical framework through which to analyze the origin of conflicts, is definitely met.
However, it is the ambition and thoroughness of Nostalgic Virility that makes its central flaw all the more salient and impactful. First and foremost is the unfortunate absence of feminist critiques of international relations and critical military studies in his literature review and theoretical development. From the title, the monograph appears to promise a discussion of masculinity in international relations and in warfare. Unfortunately, Grandpierron contains his theoretical reflection to traditional international relations frameworks. The feminist literature was there for his to use and elevate in comparison to more mainstream discussion of military studies. The search “gender and international relations” in Queen's University's library catalogue yielded over 80,000 results and “masculinity and international relations” brought forth 6,299. “Virility and international relations” did not offer any results relevant to the discussion, but given that the author recognizes the etymological, social, historical and cultural association of virility with masculinity, a conversation on and with feminist discourse related to the use of force would have been relevant—even if the author wanted to argue that such literature did not fit his framework or did not have the explanatory power it needed to advance his argument. Such a theoretical discussion would have strengthened the use of “virility” over “masculinity.” The inclusion of the United Kingdoms's confrontation with Argentina, led by then prime minister Margaret Thatcher, could have opened the door for a discussion of women as leaders and how they try and emulate leadership—often times by adopting masculine traits, as seen by many studies of women in male dominated environments. As a result, although the explanatory power of nostalgic virility is strong, the choice of such a concept remains nebulous. The absence of the concept of gender in such a work is paradoxical and reinforces feminist observations that gender and masculinity are still taboo in international relations. It is a shame, as Grandpierron's study had the opportunity to close a significant gap. In fact, Nostalgic Virility had the potential of bringing gender and masculinity into the fold of traditional international relations discussion.
While an important flaw that reinforces a sidelining of feminist discourse outside of mainstream international relations, it is not a fatal one. Nostalgic Virility remains a powerful study to read if one wants to understand the place of emotion, irrationality and beliefs in decisions that we have previously understood as rational and deliberate. It opens the door to new studies, including critical ones, about what motivates leaders. The monograph also offers paths for reflection for decision-makers, analysts and academics alike: how can we respond when war is a matter of status? What tools can be used? At a time where war is raging in Ukraine, and tensions are escalating in the Indo-Pacific, understanding what drives leaders to use force can open the door to discussing peace—or choosing conflict. In his conclusion, Grandpierron brings about other important questions, albeit implicitly: are there any fundamental differences in status-seeking and the expression of nostalgic virility in democracies (the three cases studies) and autocracies (China and Russia, which he explores in the conclusion)?
Overall, Nostalgic Virility is a thought-provoking book—to read alongside feminist international relations literature.
