Much has been written on the not-so-accidental similarities between Westeros and Planet Earth in terms of culture, character and international relations, the most comprehensive piece being the profound overview by Foreign Affairs. With the new season soon to start boggling our minds, there is need to remebmer where did we leave the story, as it is the last episode of Season Three that is supposed to define our expectations of Season Four.
That scene is not easy to forget.
Robb Stark, self-proclaimed King of the North, arrives to the court of Lord Walder Frey to witness the start of an arranged marriage between Stark’s uncle and Frey’s daughter. The ceremony is supposed to strengthen the alliance of the two houses, giving the Northerners a better chance in their bid for independence. The hosts and the guests break bread, but it doesn’t save the Starks from treachery. ‘Click’ goes the trap. Robb, his mother Catelyn, and most of their men perish in a bloody massacre.
However, the story does not end here. George Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire is not a book about individual people, but about nations, political and cultural entities. What does the Red Wedding mean for the fairy tale world then?
At the very beginning of the series there seemed to be a framework for the relations between different Westerosian factions. There was a universally recognized king, a set of customs that were respected. Even though the parties acted mostly out of self-interest, it was clear that these rules provided them with something extremely valuable for any politician — predictability. Then emotions came in the way and the lords of Westeros surrendered to the temptation of pusuing their own interests exclusively, without regard for tradition or prior agreements. The Red Wedding is the culmination of this spiral. From here on the only way is down.
Not only does Walder Frey breach his contract with the Starks, he also defies a fundamental social norm: a host may never pull out his sword upon a guest. This legal disaster is a manifestation of looming anarchy and chaos, which we may now expect from the story’s continuation. As Carli Carpenter put it in her analysis of the Game of Thrones:
The true moral of the story is that when good rules are disregarded, disorder and ruin follow.
If the book and TV series are a reflection of reality, how do we, the people standing in front of the mirror, look like? What is the lesson here?
Political realists of international relations theory do a great deal of gloating, whenever states in the real world break the rules and defy international law in favor of national interest. Many of ‘realpoliticians’ reiterate that law and rule are upheld only as instruments for the strong. If they don’t work the way you want them to — just throw them away.
Thankfully, it is not all doom and gloom in the world we live in. Even the most powerful states realize that they too need a certain amount of lawfulness. Customs, rules, and fair play make politics at least somewhat predictable. That is why great powers do not like terrorists. They are too lawless, too daring and capable of shattering even the strongest of governments. Moreover, terror attacks can decrease public support of the powers that be. Unlike Westerosian lords, presidents and parliaments (at least in democratic countries) depend on the people, their taxes, their votes, and their ability to protect the elected government.
Are we born egotistical or altruistic? The everlasting battle over human nature — and thus, the primary motives of state bahavior — may not be seen as a battle at all. Surely national interest lies at the very heart of any foreign policy. At the same time, as ironical as it may seem, the ability of others to withhold their interest is of everyone’s interest as well. In order to win, you have to know how to play and communicate with other players.
It is great to be able to break the rules. As long as you are the only one breaking them.
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