100 Books Like Liberal Internationalism

Charles Mills was a giant in contemporary political theory and is perhaps best known for his book The Racial Contract. In his most recent book, Black Rights/White Wrongs, Mills interrogates what he calls “racial liberalism” and the racist underpinnings of modern liberal theory. What I think is most remarkable about this book, though, is its further attempt to reconstruct a “radical liberalism” meant to address issues of racial justice. This book has been a major influence on me in the way I think about and imagine the limits and possibilities of liberalism as a tradition.

Over the past decade, there has been an enormous amount written about the “decline of global liberalism,” and particularly the so-called US-led liberal international order. Jeanne Morefield’s book Empires without Imperialism examines the nostalgia of liberal orders in comparing nineteenth and early-twentieth-century Britain and contemporary Anglo-American debates about liberalism and world politics. Morefield takes us through arguments from a diverse cast of characters including classicists like Alfred Zimmern and Donald Kagan, historians like Niall Ferguson, and political actors like Jan Smuts and Michael Ignatieff in order to understand how liberals draw on history as part of their political projects.

Duncan Bell’s collection of essays, Reordering the World, analyzes Victorian (and Victorian-adjacent) liberal imaginaries of empire and world politics. Of specific interest for Bell is the central place settler colonialism had in the constitution of liberal intellectual traditions, and the complex relationship between liberalism as an ideology and liberalism as part-and-parcel of the British empire. Of particular note in this collection are the essays in part I, which I have found to be indispensable in my own grappling with the contours of liberalism as a political and intellectual tradition.

Italian philosopher and historian Domenico Losurdo’s book Liberalism: A Counter-History represents one of the most ambitious attempts to conceptually and historically tie the liberal tradition to the politics of slavery, empire, and genocide. What I find to be most evocative about Losurdo’s “counter-history” is both his sweeping narrative of the liberal tradition balanced against a close reading of key figures in that tradition. Losurdo provides an important critique of liberalism, and provides us with the analytic and methodological tools to interrogate its legacy, its past, its future.

Despite having been maligned for so long in the British academy, in this book Porter shows the continuing vitality of the intellectual tradition of classical realism for understanding power politics today. He gratifyingly sweeps away the dewy-eyed nostalgia for the so-called ‘rules-based order’ that supposedly crumbled on Trump’s election to the White House in 2016. In addition to usefully reminding us of all the hypocrisy bound up with liberal internationalism, Porter also forces us to reckon with the core question of all politics – how far power is needed to underpin political order. Although I demur from some of his conclusions, Porter scrapes the tablet clean, offering the possibility of a more forthright and meaningful debate. 

I met Bhikhu Parekh when I arrived at the University of Hull in 2008. Bhikhu and I share many common interests and we interact constantly on a number of projects. Bhikhu Parekh wrote many important books and essays, and Rethinking Multiculturalism is arguably one of the most important books, if not the most important. The book is divided into three parts: historical, theoretical, and practical. In this comprehensive and rich work, Parekh critiques Rawls, Raz, and Kymlicka and then probes practices that most frequently lead to clashes of intercultural evaluation. Parekh argues that we can understand individual rights also in non-Western ways, so as to ensure that we do not deny non-liberal cultures certain opportunities to promote their own ways of living.

Anne Applebaum's book is an engaging meld of reportage and personal anecdotes, which explores why so many people have turned towards authoritarianism and illiberal populism. With a particular focus on Poland, Hungary, and the United States, Applebaum illustrates how populist movements exploit societal fears and divisions to gain and consolidate power.

She argues that populism's appeal lies in its simplistic answers to complex problems and its promise of a return to a mythical, idealized past. For Applebaum, those who become populists aren’t just strangers—they’re her former friends, and she wrestles with the question of why people she once admired have come to support anti-democratic, polarising, and authoritarian governments.

Curious about what democratic governments can do? Check out Applebaum's 2024 book, Autocracy, Inc., The Dictators Who Want to Rule the World.

The chaos of the Trump foreign policy in 2016-20 always brings a mix of horror and entertainment, but Josh Rogin’s book also gave me an especially revealing quotation from Trump; when in 2019, he said to an unnamed senator, “Taiwan is like two feet from China. We are eight thousand miles away. If they invade there isn’t a fucking thing we can do about it”. That statement is certainly wrong, but it illustrates perfectly that the key dangers arise from political will and political inconsistency.

“Where are the women?” So goes this 1989 classic’s opening gambit.

We think politics is the domain of men, Enloe points out, but women have long been out there doing vital and often invisible work, whether as diplomats’ wives, sex workers recruited around US army bases, farmers, or labor leaders.

Bringing this gendered labor to the forefront of international relations is Enloe’s strength. She discusses how images of women “work,” as in the Chiquita Banana ads that introduced American housewives to this unusual fruit and helped expand United Fruit’s bloody empire, but also studies women’s transnational labor organizing.

Reading this book in graduate school guaranteed I would never think of those little stickers on bananas in the same way. Like many other historians of US foreign policy, I still assign sections from Enloe regularly, particularly in my “Transnational America” class. 

In Accidental Superpower, Zeihan primary thesis is “stuff is hard to move; stuff is easier to move by water than land. And then he explains that the natural wealth, not just in soil, but in the river flow allowing traffic from Pittsburgh to New Orleans and the world enabled farmers coming to the Illinois prairie to get a plow in the ground immediately, without having to spend years clearing a forest, and then get the crops down river to markets within the same year. That nowhere in the history of the world had it been so easy to develop a marketable surplus and get it to market. All very interesting facts. But I think novelizing the frontier, watch men struggle against the wilderness to create wealth with exactly these conditions is far more interesting than a mere recitation. Zeihan and I tell the same story but in very different ways.