Political Realism and Political Idealism, 2026

There is neither pure realism nor pure idealism. Robert Schuett argues that realism without ideals is as dangerous as idealism without power.

As the international community heads into the fourth year of Russia’s illegal war against Ukraine (with current negotiations showing no signs of an imminent breakthrough), I am reminded of a remarkable book written by John Herz in 1951, Political Realism and Political Idealism: A Study in Theories and Realities.

It is a work at the intersection of political theory and international relations, produced at a time when it was not only possible, but analytically and morally necessary, to ground one’s understanding of world affairs not in crude empiricism alone but in political thinking: that is, in an approach willing to look unflinchingly at the realities of power and violence in human relations while also recognising human aspirations and dreams of a better world.

What Herz suggested 75 years ago, in line with Hans Morgenthau, Reinhold Niebuhr, and many others, is that there are essentially two basic types of political thinking, both in general and in international relations in particular. The age-old debate between political realists and political idealists has long shaped interpretations of world politics. On the one side stand the political realists, clear-eyed, as they say, about what they view as the primary fact of political life: power. Without an unambiguous recognition of the centrality of power (however ambiguous its forms and manifestations in practice) the realist argument runs, we are doomed to failure. In a world marked by conflicts of interest, irrational impulses, and highly subjective notions of ethics and values, any one-size-fits-all approach to international life is an illusion and will, almost by necessity, provoke resistance—and, in extreme cases, war.

On the other side of the barricades( if we accept, temporarily, the suggestion that these types of political thinking are inherently incompatible) stand the political idealists. These are the thinkers who, for various reasons, are either unwilling or unable to look human nature and its consequences—nationalism, conflict, war—squarely in the eye. They often try to wish away the facts of power and security competition in an anarchic international environment marked by the security dilemma, where states have little insight into the real intentions of others and are therefore prone to a kill-or-perish logic.

Whether these two types of political thinking are linked to corresponding psychological premises (as Herz seems to suggest) is irrelevant for present purposes. And while the question “What is political realism?” has become a cottage industry over the past quarter-century, and while both realism and idealism have always been more subtle than their caricatures suggest, Herz’s way of framing the problem remains strikingly useful. His invitation to treat realism and idealism not as absolute opposites but as points along a continuum about how we think of human nature, society, and international order is as acute now as it was in 1951.

I want to focus on two points in particular.

First, we must recognize, analytically and morally, that these two modes of political thought genuinely exist and that both retain relevance. They remain the two main vantage points from which we can interpret international life, analyse its dynamics, and think ahead. Any trend that belittles, ridicules, or silences one or the other is dangerous for an open society: not only in terms of academic freedom and public debate, but also in terms of our collective ability to decide where we want to be on questions of war and peace, order and justice, and how to balance these often competing values.

In short, when it comes to difficult and consequential questions such as how to end Putin’s war in Ukraine, both realists and idealists should be allowed to present their arguments as soberly as possible. As Morgenthau, Kissinger, and many other realists emphasized, statesmen and stateswomen must lead—which requires strategic wisdom and the willingness to move ahead decisively.

But whether one believes in leading from the front or leading from behind, without any sizeable domestic acceptance of the path to be taken, even the best strategy is worthless at best and counterproductive at worst. There is a reason we speak of political realism and political idealism: foreign policy, like any other policy realm, is fundamentally political. Were it otherwise, foreign policy would risk becoming an anti-democratic domain.

My second point concerns Herz’s warning that political realism and political idealism should not be understood as absolutes. Writing in 1951, having survived two world wars, Herz argued that the immediate post-war period required a realist corrective in order to avoid repeating the idealistic failures that contributed to earlier catastrophes. Noble projects such as the League of Nations (excellent in conception but deeply flawed in execution) needed to be complemented by a realistic assessment of what international relations are actually about and how political actors behave.

Yet in the preface to the 1959 edition, with the Cold War in full swing, Herz lamented that the pendulum had swung too far in the opposite direction. Even if there is little room for lofty idealism in foreign and security policy, there is a corresponding danger in becoming obsessed with questions of power and force, as though the world consisted only of its darker impulses. Virtually every political realist of note has acknowledged the dual—and inherently ambiguous—nature of human beings, individually and collectively.

Heading into 2026, Herz’s warning about the pendulum is as relevant as ever. The stark fact that the international community did too little to prevent Russia’s aggression, and continues to be either unprepared or unwilling to restore Ukraine’s sovereignty, does not mean that the war should simply continue indefinitely—especially when, under present political circumstances across much of the West, victory appears most unlikely. Precisely because we are entering the fourth year of the conflict, a measure of political realism is in order.

Yet, just as realism ought to be the baseline of strategy and foreign policy, we must not lose sight of the ideals of human rights and human progress that political idealism rightly emphasizes. In other words, there can be no purity in either political realism or political idealism. A foreign policy guided by cynical realism alone would be as unjust and deadly as one guided by naïve idealism alone.

For 2026, and for years—if not decades—to come, we need a better balance between geopolitical realities and the values that define us.

Dr. Robert Schuett is a columnist at Global Policy.