Throughout the 1980s, I made repeated reporting trips to the Balkans. The region was utterly fascinating, the hotels inexpensive, and other journalists few and far between. In July 1989, four months before the Berlin Wall fell and immediately before the East German refugee crisis that would precipitate that event, I warned in a 3,000-word article in The Atlantic: “In the 1970s and 1980s the world witnessed the limits of superpower influence in places like Vietnam and Afghanistan. In the 1990s those limits may well become visible in a Third World region within Europe itself. The Balkans could shape the end of the century, just as they did the beginning.” In The Wall Street Journal Europe, on November 30, 1989, the same month that the Berlin Wall fell, I wrote on the editorial page: “Two historic concepts are emerging out of the ruins of communist Europe. One, ‘Central Europe,’ the media is now beating to death. The other, ‘the Balkans,’ the media has yet to discover…” I then went on to suggest the ethnic fissuring of Yugoslavia. In June 1991, the month that fighting broke out between Serbia and Slovenia, in an article submitted the year before, I published a 10,000-word piece in The Atlantic about ethnic troubles in Macedonia. According to a former State Department official, quoted in The Washington Post (February 21, 2002), that article was instrumental in getting “the first and only preventive deployment of U. N. peacekeepers in the former Yugoslavia.” Though a 1990 CIA report warned of Yugoslavia disintegrating, the State Department, this official went on, “was in a state of denial…until Kaplan’s article came along.” As it happens, the deployment of 1,500 peacekeepers in Macedonia prevented violence that later broke out in Bosnia.
Balkan Ghosts: A Journey Through History was published in full in March 1993, after the bulk of the ethnic cleansing was over in Bosnia. That same month I published an article about Yugoslavia in Reader’s Digest in which I wrote: “Unless we can break the cycle of hatred and revenge – by standing forcefully for self-determination and minority rights – the gains from the end of the Cold War will be lost. All aid, all diplomatic efforts, all force if force is used, must be linked to the simple idea that all the people of Yugoslavia deserve freedom from violence.” Soon afterwards I appeared on television to publicly urge intervention in the Balkans. I also urged intervention on the front page of The Washington Post Outlook section on April 17, 1994: this was still more than a year before we actually intervened. As a result, both Charles Krauthammer and Pat Buchanan labeled me as “interventionist.” Regarding the NATO air campaign in defense of Kosovo five years later, on the op-ed page of The New York Times, on April 7, 1999, when the campaign seemed to be going badly and much of the media was calling it a failure, I vigorously supported it.
Balkan Ghosts paints a grim picture of ethnic relations in southeastern Europe, but it is only the grimmest human landscapes where military intervention has ever been required in the first place: for one need never idealize a human landscape in order to take action on its behalf. The prologue of Balkan Ghosts ends with the realization that the mundane, ethnic peace achieved in southern Austria as a result of economic development would soon be the fortune of the former-Yugoslavia. Chapter One of Balkan Ghosts, about Croatia, is less about fate than about the moral choice that still awaited people there: whether to follow the path of ethnic division in the Balkans symbolized by Cardinal Alojzije Stepinac, or the path of ethnic reconciliation symbolized by Bishop Josip Strossmayer. Though the book discusses ethnic hatreds as often a product of Ottoman imperial decline – and how they became manipulated by Yugoslav, Bulgarian, and other communists – the phrase “ancient hatreds” can be found nowhere in the text. Though my books and articles about the Balkans were read by the President and others, at no point did anyone in the Clinton Administration – whether the President himself or even an intern in the State Department – ever contact me in any way concerning my work, and how it might be applied to specific policy choices that arose long after the book was completed. The fact that Balkan Ghosts was reportedly used as an excuse for non-intervention in early 1993 will forever cause me great grief.
In early- and mid-1993, I made reporting trips to Turkey and West Africa, which were to form the backbone of my 15,000-word article in The Atlantic, “The Coming Anarchy,” published in February, 1994. The article’s principal theme was that the natural environment would emerge in coming decades as the number one national security issue for the United States, and that resource scarcity, disease, population growth – especially male youth bulges – and the transformation of war to more irregular forms, often indistinguishable from crime, would help shape world politics in the future. Although the media was generally hopeful about West Africa at the time of my trips, I specifically warned of chaos in Sierra Leone, Cote d’Ivoire, and Nigeria in the years ahead, which in fact occurred in the cases of the first two of those countries in the late 1990s, as various forms of civil war erupted. (As for Nigeria, it continues to be highly unstable.) The middle part of the article paints an uplifting portrait of Turkish slum life, which led me to the conclusion that an Islamic Turkey (still secular at the time I wrote) would be a force to reckon with in the 21st century. Nevertheless, the overall tone of the article proved too negative, given the many positive trends in the world since. The article formed the starting point for my travel book, The Ends of the Earth (1996), and for a collection of essays, The Coming Anarchy: Shattering the Dreams of the Post Cold War (2000). That collection also included another hotly debated essay, “Was Democracy Just a Moment?” Originally published in The Atlantic in December, 1997, the article posited that democracy which was overtaking the world in the post Cold War era did not indicate a “final triumph of reason,” and that “subtler tyrannies” still awaited us at home and abroad. I asserted that democracy did not necessarily lead to more stable or more liberal systems, that democracy stood a better chance of success if it followed the creation of a sizable middle class, and that what might develop in parts of the world was hybrid regimes, which combined attributes of democracy and authoritarianism.
Also in the 1990s, I turned my attention on my own country and wrote a series of cover stories for The Atlantic about the worsening border situation with Mexico and about the rise of a globalized, mixed race “Polynesian-mestizo” society in the United States. These articles were the starting point for my book, An Empire Wilderness: Travels into America’s Future (1998).
Regarding my book, In Europe’s Shadow: Two Cold Wars and a Thirty-Year Journey Through Romania and Beyond, I have been writing about, traveling to, and reporting from Romania for over a third of a century. It is a country with which I have been fascinated. In religion and language, it is both Greek and Latin. It is the geographic organizing principle for southeast Europe’s relationship with Russia. In Central and Eastern Europe, only Poland is more important. But whereas many writers and scholars have concentrated on Poland, relatively few have concentrated on Romania. This is a book I had to write, since my own professional history is partly tied in with that of the country. People tried to steer me away from the subject, saying it was too obscure. The events in Kiev in January 2014 proved me right, however. Romania and Romanian-speaking Moldova share a longer common border with Ukraine than does Poland. This book is a combination of travel writing, memoir writing, journalism and history. Rather than cover a larger area in a grand sweep as I have done in most of my previous books, here I do a deep dive on one country and its environs in order to look at large, critical themes – geography, imperialism, the question of fate in international relations, the Cold War, the Holocaust, and the second Cold War initiated by Russia in Ukraine. The book is technically about Romania; it is really about Europe writ-large. It was published in February 2016.
In January, 2017, I published a short book with a big thesis, about how geography still shapes America’s role in the world in ways that are unseen yet real. A sequel to The Revenge of Geography, this book is part travel writing, part geopolitical analysis. It records a road trip I took from the Atlantic to the Pacific, reflecting on American foreign policy at a time of global anarchy.
In 2018, I published my second collection of essays, half from The Atlantic and the rest from other publications. The book’s title, The Return of Marco Polo’s World: War, Strategy, and American Interests in the Twenty-first Century, is taken from the lead essay about Eurasian geopolitics.
In September 2020, I published what I consider my most important and ambitious work, The Good American: The Epic Life and Adventures of Bob Gersony, the U. S. Government’s Greatest Humanitarian. I worked on this book for some years. It is the story of a man from a wealthy Jewish family in Manhattan, who dropped out of high school and served in Vietnam, where he was awarded a bronze star for service. Then, in his mid-twenties, he started a network of Mayan language schools in Guatemala. In Guatemala in the mid-1970s, he was spotted by the U. S. Agency for International Development, and began a 40-year odyssey through virtually every war and disaster zone on every continent, interviewing hundreds of refugees and displaced persons in every location. By providing high decision-makers with a second opinion on momentous events, in almost every case he improved policy for the better, saving countless lives. It is an inspiring story about someone who always worked alone, spending much of his life in refugee camps, and who remained obscure and unrecognized.
This is a travelogue that covers literature, art, architecture, music, and geopolitics. It begins in Italy and continues through Slovenia, Croatia, Montenegro, Albania, and Greece. It represents my first lengthy, ground-level reporting from the former Yugoslavia since “Balkan Ghosts” was published in 1993.
This is a meditation on tragedy as defined not only by the Greeks and Shakespeare but also by the great German philosophers and the modern literary classics. I write not as an academic but as someone with the lived experience of decades as a foreign correspondent covering wars and upheavals. I aim in this book for an original and self-critical ode to realism.
In 2023, I published a book on my 50 years of travel throughout the greater Middle East from the Eastern Mediterranean to China. Bringing in history, philosophy, and political science, I do a series of case studies on specific countries – Turkey, Egypt, Ethiopia, Saudi Arabia, Iraq, and Iran – exploring the perennial struggle of achieving a stable equilibrium between the extremes of empire and anarchy. The increasing role of China is a constant in these reports.
In 2025, I published a short book on our increasingly smaller and more claustrophobic world beset by crises. It was my first book in decades that was an explicit throwback to The Coming Anarchy. This is a much different thesis, though. It relies on geography, history, literature, and philosophy rather than on reporting. I see the world as a larger version of the Weimar Republic, with great powers in gradual, long-term decline, amid destabilizing technological breakthroughs.
“A compelling, stark, critically important book that conveys the urgency of the present moment and the unprecedented challenges that face mankind . . . Once again, Robert D. Kaplan has brilliantly distilled an exceedingly complex set of issues that have to be resolved. And once again he has impressively consulted history to provide prescriptions to help us navigate the ongoing conflicts, security dilemmas, great power rivalries, health crises, environmental issues, and other looming difficulties. Waste Land solidifies Kaplan’s reputation as one of the truly masterful observers and thinkers of our time!” – General David Petraeus, US Army (Ret), former Commander of the Surge in Iraq, US Central Command, and Coalition Forces in Afghanistan, and former Director of the CIA