Book Review
Francis Fukuyama’s The End of History and the Last Man may be the most maligned and misunderstood academic book of the current era. Fukuyama’s thesis on the end of history was often seized upon after major news events, never genuinely engaging with the book beyond its title. “So much for the end of history.” Truthfully, I did not know what to make of Fukuyama’s argument despite the fact I read (well, skimmed) the book. I originally purchased the book–a hardcover second edition–at a Barnes & Noble in Skokie, Illinois back in 1995 (this was just after I passed the Illinois bar exam, evidently feeling intellectually confident). Over the years as my little library traveled with me from Chicago to Walnut Creek, California, to Boca Raton, Florida, and then back to Chicago, I always intended to give it a more focused read. And I’m glad I did.
Francis Fukuyama’s The End of History and the Last Man is a fascinating exploration of liberalism. With the end of the Cold War and the collapse of Russian communism, humanity reached the pinnacle of its ideological evolution. Liberal democracy triumphed. Drawing on philosophers like Hegel and Kojève, Fukuyama contends that history, seen as a series of ideological conflicts, was effectively ended by liberal democracy becoming the final form of government. No alternative political system can rival liberal democracy’s success in combining political freedom with economic liberalism, thus making it the endpoint in humanity’s ideological development. Monarchism, fascism, and communism were extractive economic systems that made them politically unstable. In contrast, despite the many imperfections of liberal democracy it weathered the test of time, and proved flexibility and adaptable to societal evolution and multiculturalism. To be clear, Fukuyama’s argument is not that every country will adopt Western-style governance. (Should they? Yes. Will they? Not necessarily.) However, states that preserve anti-liberal political governance are highly vulnerable because they stand in opposition to powerful international trends. As Fukuyama describes it, liberal democracy’s triumph over history was “not so much liberal practice, as the liberal idea” because “there is now no ideology with pretensions of universality that is in a position to challenge liberal democracy, and no universal principle of legitimacy other than the sovereignty of the people.”
Central to the book’s argument is the theoretical idea of universal history. Drawing on Hegel’s philosophy of history, Fukuyama makes the teleological argument that historical forces have tended to push towards political systems that favor liberty and individuality. This indicates that the liberal democratic state must be the historical end point. This is Hegel’s dialectic theory of history, where each new historical phase resolves the contradictions of the preceding phase. However, Fukuyama acknowledges that there are no “inevitabilities” and allows for historical contingency. He grants that there is always the chance that some countries will regress. Still the achievements of liberal democracy serve as the high-water mark for a lapsed society to return to. Incidentally, I think this answers one of the main criticisms of The End of History. Fukuyama never ruled out black swan events like the coronavirus outbreak, nor did he say liberal democracy would rule out groups like al-Qaeda or regimes like Putin’s Russia. Nevertheless, I’ve never subscribed to teleological theories or universal principles, but I don’t think you need to accept the Hegalian theory to see the wisdom of Fukuyama’s overall argument.
Some of the strongest parts of the book delve into the practical, real world implications for his theory. Historically, liberal democratic institutions tended to have fits and starts. Fukuyama was prescient in that he saw that Russia and China may follow capitalism and never liberalize politically. He was also fairly pessimistic about the Islamic world’s enthusiasm for liberal democracy. From the standpoint of the mid-nineties, a Westerner could have confidence that the internal contradictions of authoritarian and theocratic states could not withstand forces of modernization, the dynamism of market economies, and the pluralism of liberal democracy. The sentiment comes across in Fukuyama’s writing, but at the same time I think he was realistic, recognizing the possibility that certain counties and regions would continue to oppose history itself. Liberal democracy will be the world’s most prevalent governance, if not dominant, but the path the getting there will not be linear.
This brings us the subject of “the last man” and the overlooked part of the book’s title. Liberal democracy is no utopia. It has to adjust to new challenges or else faces unresolvable contradictions that will bring its end. To demonstrate this, Fukuyama explores the disruptive potential of nationalist movements and the divisive nature of identity politics. Beyond “blood and soil” rhetoric or social justice fanaticism, these types of politics share a fundamental origin. Drawing on Nietzsche’s critique of modernity, the concept of “the last man” is a figure who symbolizes a decline in human aspiration and a loss of meaning in life, and is only driven by the hedonistic pursuit of comfort and materialism. Still, the innate need for recognition always remains, and people lacking a deeper purpose will adopt movement politics as a kind of quasi-religion that ultimately destroy liberal democratic systems from within. Despite these concerns, Fukuyama maintains that liberal democracy is the best equipped to resolve these kinds of internal challenges. Considering American and European politics in the last ten years, this was another example of Fukuyama’s prescience, as is the potential for America to fall into a decadent decline.
Another interesting aspect is how Fukuyama anticipates the techno-optimism that would become prevalent in the nineties. Fukuyama examines the role modern natural science and technological advancement played in reinforcing the historical progression towards liberal democracy. He argues that economic incentives, combined with the scientific method, have led to the gradual development of rights and citizenship. While Fukuyama acknowledges the possibility of societal setbacks due to war or ecological disaster, he remains confident that the cumulative knowledge of modern natural science is irreversible. Fukuyama’s assertion that modern natural science has made history directionally irreversible reflects his broader optimism about human progress. “[I]f the grip of a progressive modern natural science is irreversible, then a directional history and all of the variegated economic, social, and political consequences that flow from it are also not reversible in any fundamental sense.”
Despite the events of the last twenty-five years I do not think Fukuyama’s vision was overly optimistic. Global politics have grown more contentious, but there is no question that liberal democratic states remain dominant. The rise of China as a superpower challenger to the US-led Western world does not disprove anything Fukuyama said. I think there is a strong argument that elites in China’s urban centers have more in common with the West, and there is a diplomatic and economic path to avoid a needless and unproductive cold war. Nor does the continued existence of regimes in North Korea, Iran, and Russia really mean anything. These are governments controlled by an elite class maintained in power through force, offering no scalable or replicable alternative to the liberal democratic model as a “form of government.” Moreover, liberal democracy has expanded to more countries in the last thirty years. Granted, there are unstable democracies and a recent tendency toward “strongman” leadership. While leaders like Modi and Erdoğan have theocratic and authoritarian tendencies, both were popularly elected and remain subject to democratic processes. As far as the West’s recent woes, I tend to think the best arguments relate to technological shock and the resulting challenge to liberal institutions. Established institutions responsible for knowledge have lost much of their capacity to foster consensus through credible truth claims. Additionally, the interpretation and dissemination of knowledge and opinions have enabled more citizens to engage in political discourse and challenge elites and their institutions.
Since writing this book Fukuyama has added to his intellectual contributions and frequently revisited the thesis of The End of History and the Last Man. I have several of his books on my reading list and consider him one of our best contemporary thinkers. At some point I will revisit this review and add links to new pieces about Fukuyama.