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Michael J. Glennon
Remarks at Convocation
The Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy
Tufts University
ASEAN Auditorium
September 12, 2002

Dean Bosworth, Dean Lynch, faculty colleagues, students, staff, and members of the Class of ’47:

I’ve been invited to say a few words today by way of introduction and sketch out how I came to be here and what I’ve been working on. The short answer is that over the last several decades, it’s seemed that everybody who is anybody that I’ve met in the world of international relations and foreign policy has ultimately revealed himself or

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Michael J. Glennon

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herself to have graduated from Fletcher, and having somehow overlooked the value of being here in my student days, I’m now making up for lost time.

The more complete answer is that my interest in international affairs and the route to Fletcher trace back to an incident that focused the mind wonderfully on the value of clear-eyed analysis in foreign policy-making—I was tear-gassed in college during an anti-war demonstration. So after law school I went to work for the one governmental body where there seemed to be more sympathy for my viewpoint, the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. It was a heady experience for a freshly-minted lawyer to work for Senatorial giants like Fulbright, Church, McGovern, Muskie, and Javits, although they were not exactly the peaceniks I had been expecting; then as now, the Senate was pretty much a hotbed of tranquility. Still, I had a chance to work on some measures that meant a great deal to me, and it was a wonderful education, completely free of bluebooks.

Working in close proximity to members of Congress tends to have the same effect on all young staffers. Before long, they conclude: I can do that. Well, I was no exception, yet politics seemed a bit crass to me, given the need to spend all day calling people on the phone and asking them for money, so I decided instead to do something that involved no money at all—I went into teaching.

Life as a law professor was fine, but—well, some one said that law school sharpens a one’s mind by narrowing it, so I thought I had better make my exit while I still had the wits to do so. Also, I gradually found myself less and less interested in the blackletter legal rules that are the classroom stock-in-trade and more and more interested in the “big picture” of policy and philosophy behind the rules.

One “big picture” question in particular has come to interest me, and I was privileged to get a fellowship last year to look into it at the Woodrow Wilson Center in Washington, which is a government-sponsored think tank. Always concerned about unintended consequences, the government doesn’t pay people to think too much, so fellowships are limited to a year. The question that I thought mostly about concerns the relationship between hegemony and the rule of law. My thesis was—is—that there’s a basic tension between the two. The rule of law implies a willingness to submit to multilateral restraints. But hegemony implies a desire to be free of restraint. The United States has had a long-standing commitment to the international rule of law. But just recently, some Americans seem to have concluded that we’re so far ahead of every other country, in both hard power and in soft power, that maybe we don’t really need law as much as we used to. They believe that we can always count on raw power to protect ourselves. Well, I hope they’re right. Looking back at the fate of hegemons past, I have my doubts about hegemony’s staying power. But who knows—American hegemony today may indeed be something altogether new and unprecedented and much longer-lasting.

In any event, it was an interest in these sorts of larger questions that drew me to Fletcher. Just a glance at the course schedule reveals that this is a place where just about everybody seems to think and write and talk about “big picture” issues. Not only that, but they do it extremely well. From all I can tell Fletcher is the best foreign affairs school in the United States—probably the best in the world. Fletcher seems always to have been on my radar screen. As a young lawyer 30 years ago I read with great admiration a statement on executive agreements given by Prof. Ruhl Bartlett of Fletcher before the Senate Foreign Relations Committee. Bartlett was followed by other great names—Leo Gross, and of course Al Rubin. It’s a terrific honor to succeed Al. Teaching in the same position that they held is the international law equivalent of playing center field for the New York Yankees, in front of statues of Ruth, DiMaggio, and Mantle. (I’m not sure that’s an entirely safe analogy in Boston.)

But of course the real bedrock of all great universities is the student body. Fletcher is especially esteemed in this regard because, I’ve quickly learned, it’s a magnet for students with real intellectual curiosity who also know how to talk to policy-makers. That’s a rare combination, in my experience—the ability to be equally at home in the world of thought and the world of action. Fletcher is at the crossroads of those worlds in foreign affairs as almost no other institution is. I think there’s a reason for Fletcher’s prominence that that goes beyond excellent students and excellent faculty. The reason is that Fletcher has committed itself to maintaining a robust marketplace of ideas. Fletcher is not marked by any official or unofficial orthodoxy or ideology. It provides a home for multiple, often conflicting perspectives, all of which are received with respect. Over the years humanity has found no better formula for intellectual ferment or social progress than the recognition that truth emerges from the free play of conflicting ideas. Fletcher has understood that. And that, is seems to me, is the biggest reason why people from Fletcher have been so dazzlingly successful as both thinkers and doers. They’re used to listening to all sides of an issue and to following questions wherever they lead. Those questions may not always lead to clear answers, but the process of looking for those answers is conducted with civility and intellectual rigor.

That’s a tradition that I’m immensely proud to be a part of, and I’ll do all I can to help maintain and strengthen it.