We know what the benefits of a war on Iraq would be: the ouster of a cruel tyrant and the elimination of his weapons of mass destruction. But we also know what the costs would be: prohibitive. The Bush administration believes that the overthrow of Saddam Hussein could bring democracy to Iraq and then spread to the rest of the Arab world. This is a fantasy. It will be difficult to introduce democracy in a heterogeneous country that has never experienced it. After 30 years of repression, there could be violence between ethnic and religious groups that US forces would have to cope with; moreover, a prolonged occupation and military rule would squander the good will we as liberators expect to prevail at first. Arab governments will try to contain the spread of democracy in order to stay in power. Moreover, as long as we haven't decisively intervened in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and suggest that it may have to wait until Arab regimes have changed, Arab suspicion of the United States will mount.
Indeed, American control of Iraq could contribute to Muslim terrorism and foster a xenophobic fundamentalism aimed at US "imperialism." Already the administration's obsession with Iraq and its bullying way of obtaining support have provoked considerable anti-American resentment abroad.
The image of the United States has been tarnished by our manipulation of the United Nations and our alliances with NATO countries, our efforts to split the European Union, and our disdain for public opinion abroad.
More seriously, the Bush administration has recklessly attacked the very foundations of world order that this country helped put in place: the UN, international law, and the EU have been the casualties of a team that has repudiated a distinction we had wisely preserved throughout the Cold War, between leadership and dictation. This may result in something we had avoided: an anti-American ganging-up of countries threatened by the growth of unchecked American power.
Then there are the economic costs of the war as well as those of rebuilding Iraq and not neglecting its needs, which would encourage those who doubt American good intentions.
Are these costs worth it?
We have two main reasons to go to war. Both are shaky. Iraq is effectively defanged and incapable of constituting a real threat to us or its neighbors as long as we operate freely in two no-fly zones, the Kurds have autonomy under Anglo-American protection, and inspectors roam freely.
Contrary to the administration's assertions, containment can continue to work in the long run, especially if the no-fly zones and the inspections are maintained, a tight naval blockade prevents military imports into Iraq, and ground forces remain stationed at Iraq's borders. War is not necessary to render Iraq harmless to others.
The more difficult issue is that of Saddam Hussein. Like preventive war, forcible regime change violates international law. The exceptions to state sovereignty that were made legitimate through the so-called humanitarian interventions in the 1990s have never involved "regime change" and had to be justified by the argument that the violation of human rights constituted a threat to international and regional security. This could have been an argument for intervening against Saddam Hussein's regime in 1991; the opportunity was missed, and since then he has not committed mass crimes against humanity. Still, his regime is based on fear and terror.
Sooner or later all governments may realize their citizens are entitled to basic human rights. But this principle will need international support, not unilateral action, to be established, and a clear understanding of the differences between "ordinary" bad regimes and truly evil ones.
Meanwhile, those who sympathize with the plight of the Iraqi people yet do not want to increase their suffering through war should do all they can to make Saddam Hussein's position increasingly difficult. The International Criminal Court or a special criminal tribunal can try him for crimes against humanity, order a ban on travel by all top officials, deprive them of their fortunes abroad, and indicate that a recovery by Iraq of its full sovereignty will depend on its compliance with those decisions. Furthermore, we can provide covert assistance to groups of Iraqis willing to act against Saddam Hussein and overt aid if they try to overthrow him.
For these purposes, we could lead a "coalition of the willing" far bigger, and less resentful, than the one we're trying to force into supporting us for a risky and unpopular war. The democracy we say we champion should begin by recognizing that listening to what the public says is not tantamount to appeasement and inaction. Gaining more victories in the difficult war against terrorism is a far more widely shared goal, and one that could be imperiled by American hubris in the war against Iraq.
Here’s how to think about the EU’s new constitution
Alas, to be born into the world without friends. That seems to be the fate of the draft constitution of the new European Union, to be presented at the summit in Thessaloniki on Friday. To a contemptuous Romano Prodi, the head of the European Commission who dreamed of building a stronger "federal" union, the document "lacks vision and ambition." By contrast, British Tories and tabloids are positively twitching with Europhobia. The proposed constitution will "sweep away 1,000 years of history," proclaims the Sun.
DON’T BE FOOLED. Prodi and his federalists are right. The Convention on the Future of Europe has deliberated—and delivered a mouse. When they began their work 18 months ago, Prodi and other Euro-insiders were convinced that they would dominate. They intended to exploit the bold rhetoric of constitutionalism to craft an idealistic document that centralized ever more power and democratic control in Brussels. There was heady talk of a new name, "United Europe." There were proposals for introducing majority voting on sensitive issues of foreign and defense policy. Brussels’s influence would be extended over national fiscal and social policies. National vetoes would be eliminated. A new EU president would be directly elected, by and for the people. Farewell, faceless Eurocracy. Welcome, democracy.
Little of this has come to pass. The convention’s canny chieftain, former French president Valery Giscard d’Estaing, knows where real power in the EU lies. Any radical draft would be picked apart by national governments when they begin reviewing the document this autumn. To encourage them to accept his draft intact, Giscard faced down the federalists and struck backroom deals with the member states. Case in point: last week’s wrangling over whether to allow EU foreign policy to be determined via qualified majority voting. Bottom line? It won’t be.
Most of the reforms that remain are simply good public management. With enlargement and a union of 25 member states, many of them tiny, it was high time to replace the revolving six-month council presidency, responsible for organizing the overall agenda. Thus there will be a new EU president, appointed by the states for a five-year term. Both "old" and "new" Europeans agree that crises like Iraq require greater integration. Thus the two top EU foreign-policy posts—currently held by Javier Solana and Chris Patten—will be consolidated into the new position of EU foreign minister. For most European countries the management of asylum, crime and defense procurement justifies a minimum set of intergovernmental standards. Thus a smattering of consensual policies will be newly governed by qualified majority voting and European Parliament oversight.
Otherwise, the new constitution merely consolidates current practice—a fact that should be welcomed rather than scorned. For too long, the debate over union has been divided between radical federalists who would move forward toward a centralized Europe and excessively cautious skeptics who would roll it back. What has emerged from the constitutional convention is a Europe in equilibrium. Henceforth, policies of greatest concern to citizens—social welfare, taxation, pensions, health care, education, culture, infrastructure—will remain essentially national and local. Those of less interest—trade, banking, industrial standardization, technical harmonization—will be European. In the middle, a few policies—immigration, policing and defense—will be shared. This is a heartening outcome. In coming to terms with its strengths as well as its limitations, the European Union has at long last entered its maturity.
For many transatlantic pundits, the Iraq crisis is further proof that Europe needs an autonomous military force. This view was forcefully expressed last week by Laurent Fabius, the former French prime minister, who said in the Financial Times that Europe "was unable to make its voice heard in the US because it was divided and lacked a unified defence force".
For some years now politicians have found European defence irresistible. European public opinion strongly favours it. European federalists want the European Union to have greater powers. French Gaullists, long convinced that military might means great power prestige, trumpet the idea. Tony Blair, Britain's prime minister, has exploited it to become more "European"; Joschka Fischer, Germany's foreign minister, has exploited it to become more military.
The logic is seductive: if the US respects only military power, a European army will surely command respect. Yet European defence is a dangerous pipe dream. And the Iraq crisis demonstrates why.
A co-ordinated military force with the global capabilities to fight a high-technology, low-casualty war would require Europeans to increase military spending, currently 2 per cent of gross domestic product, to more than the US rate of 4 per cent if it is to overcome a decades-long US lead. No European public would accept this.
However heavily they were deployed, European transport aircraft, satellites and multilingual soldiers would not add up to an effective policy response to US unilateralism. Do Europeans propose to use military force against the US? Launch "pre-preventive" interventions?
Or is the goal to reduce European dependency on Nato? If so, the result would be to encourage precisely the withdrawal from Europe advocated by US hawks. A European rapid reaction force might be useful for peacekeeping but neither it nor a larger force would reverse determined US unilateralism.
The entire notion is in fact incoherent. Europeans have claimed from the start of the Iraq crisis that non-military means should be used more intensively. Yet when Washington sends in the marines, Europeans call for a stronger defence.
The real problem is that European defence schemes distract Europe from its true comparative advantage in world politics: the cultivation of civilian and quasi-military power. Europe is the "quiet superpower". There are at least five ways in which Europe can wield influence over peace and war as great as that of the US.
First, EU accession—perhaps the single most powerful policy instrument for peace and security in the world today. In 10-15 potential member states, authoritarian, intolerant or corrupt governments have recently lost elections to democratic, market-oriented coalitions held together by the promise of eventual EU membership.
Second, Europeans provide more than 70 per cent of all civilian development assistance. This is four times more than the US and is far more equitably disbursed, often by multilateral organisations. When the shooting stopped in Kosovo and Afghanistan, it was the Europeans who were called on to rebuild, reconstruct and reform.
Third, European troops, generally under multilateral auspices, help keep the peace in trouble spots as disparate as Guatemala and Eritrea. EU members and applicants contribute 10 times as many peacekeeping troops as the US. No one outside Washington believes US troops will be able to do the job after the Iraq war.
Fourth, monitoring by international institutions, supported by Europe, builds the global trust that is needed to manage crises. The Iraq crisis might have developed very differently if the Europeans had been able to offer the option of sending, say, 10 times as many weapons inspectors in, 10 months earlier.
Last, the Iraq crisis demonstrates the extraordinary effect of multilateral institutions on global opinion. In country after country, polls have shown that a second United Nations Security Council resolution would have given public opinion a 30-40 per cent swing towards military action. With the US stance apparently lacking international legitimacy, American troops have been unable to open a second front from Turkish territory; and the bill for the war is likely to fall largely to the US.
Americans are not just unwilling but also—for complex domestic, cultural and institutional reasons—apparently unable to deploy civilian power effectively. That is the true weakness of US strategy today, for without trade, aid, peacekeeping, monitoring and legitimacy, no amount of unilateral military might can stabilise an unruly world.
Rather than criticising US military power, or hankering after it, Europe would do better to invest its political and budgetary capital in a distinctive complement to it. European civilian power, if wielded shrewdly and more coherently, could be an effective and credible instrument of modern European statecraft, not just to compel compliance by smaller countries but perhaps even to induce greater American understanding. Europe might get its way more often—and without a bigger army.
President Bush used three main arguments to justify sending American troops into Iraq. The first tied Saddam Hussein to Al Qaeda, but the evidence that was presented publicly remained thin. Public opinion polls show that many Americans accepted the administration's word on the connection, but overseas responses were more skeptical.
The second argument was that replacing Saddam Hussein with a democratic regime was a way to transform the politics of the Middle East.
A number of neo-conservative members of the administration had urged this before taking office but were unable to turn it into policy during the first eight months of the administration.
After Sept. 11, however, they quickly moved through the window of opportunity (even though North Korea posed a more imminent danger). President Bush spoke often of regime change.
The plausibility of this argument was debated at home and abroad, and the merits probably lie somewhere between the proponents and skeptics.
Our dedication to the broad values of democracy and human rights is part of our ''soft'' or attractive power and an essential part of our foreign policy.
But democracy is a fragile plant that requires carefully cultivated soil. It is not easily transplanted. Of the places where the United States has sent troops in the last half-century, only a minority of the interventions resulted in democratic governments.
Optimists cite the role of American military occupation in the democratization of Germany and Japan after World War II.
But conditions in the Middle East today are not like Germany and Japan in 1945. Both of those countries had large middle classes, prior experience with democracy, and a prolonged and largely unopposed American military presence.
Given its history and internal divisions, postwar Iraq is unlikely to look like democracy as we know it, but it will be a better and more pluralistic regime than now exists.
American military success may lead Iran and Syria to temper their policies, but if President Bush is unable to persuade Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon to reach a compromise acceptable to the Palestinians, the map of the region may change less dramatically than the optimists hope.
The third argument was the clearest and most widely accepted. It focused on preventing Saddam Hussein from possessing weapons of mass destruction.
Most countries agreed that Saddam had defied UN Security Council resolutions for a dozen years.
Moreover, Resolution 1441 unanimously put the burden of proof on him to demonstrate what had happened to weapons that UN inspectors had been concerned about before they left Iraq in 1998.
If President Bush had focused on this third argument and been willing to work out a compromise along the lines suggested by Canada, he could have built a far broader coalition for the war (Canada, and later Britain, suggested an agreement to give the UN inspectors more time in return for clear benchmarks and a date certain to declare the end of the process.)
I believe France might have gone along, but even if it had used its veto, American actions would have been legitimized by a majority in the Security Council similar to that we enjoyed when we intervened in Kosovo in 1999.
Unfortunately, the administration sent mixed messages. The more the unilateralists in the administration talked about regime change and going ahead no matter what the UN did, the more other countries became convinced we were not serious about cooperation, and the more the issue became the legitimacy of American power rather than the transgressions of Saddam Hussein.
The result is the right war at the wrong time, but the point is now moot.
Those of us who are critical of the clumsy handling and timing of the war must admit that indefinite containment was unlikely to succeed.
Saddam Hussein had a record of taking high risks, a clear intention to develop weapons of mass destruction, and a proven willingness to use them.
Enforcing Security Council Resolutions 687 and 1441 is better than returning to the evasive politics of the 1990s when Saddam Hussein successfully defied a divided United Nations.
We multilateralists must now hope that the war is brief, that the Iraqi people will visibly welcome the removal of a tyrant, and that the reconstruction of Iraq will involve many countries and a United Nations role.
Perhaps that will allow us to recover some of the legitimacy after the fact that the administration squandered before the war.
There would be something charming—quaintly reminiscent of Trollope perhaps—in the image of Britons "from pub landlords to vicars" forming a queue to vote in the Daily Mail "referendum" on the proposed EU constitution. Charming, that is, if it were not so corrosive of proper democratic debate.
The current campaign for a referendum shows just what is wrong with plebiscitary democracy. It is a clever campaign because it uses and abuses two of the highest political values in the west: limited government and democracy. Limiting government by blocking activities of "foreign" institutions may seem prudent, yet it is impractical in an interdependent world. Plebiscitary democracy—politics by referendum—seems unimpeachably "democratic" on the surface, yet in fact it empowers the rich, the ignorant, the negative, and the ideological. Voters lack the time, commitment or expertise to engage fully in complex issues—particularly when, as in the case of the EU, their main concerns are not on the agenda. Referendums in the US have shown that under such circumstances, huge amounts of money, slick consultants and access to the media are required to win...
Economic historians continue to debate the causes of the 'great divergence of economic'
fortunes which has characterized the last half millennium. In this debate, the role of
colonialism—and specifically the British Empire—must needs play a crucial role. If
geography, climate and disease provide a sufficient explanation for the widening of
global inequalities, then the policies and institutions exported by British imperialism were
of marginal importance;4 the agricultural, commercial and industrial technologies
developed in Europe from 1700 onwards were bound to work better in temperate regions
with good access to sea routes. However, if the key to economic success lies in the
adoption of legal, financial and political institutions favourable to technical innovation
and capital accumulation—regardless of location, mean temperature and longevity—then
it matters a great deal that by the end of the nineteenth century a quarter of the world was
under British rule.
Also Development Research Institute Working Paper Series
No.2, RR# 2003-02. Download PDF
The Israeli security cabinet's decision to “remove” Palestinian Authority President Yasser Arafat is ominous. Though the stated justification for the decision is the assertion that Arafat is an obstacle to peace, it actually seems to be designed to ensure the failure of the peace process envisaged by the road map.
This is not a time for passivity, subtlety, or ambiguity in Washington's response. Vehement US opposition to such a project is essential to averting reckless actions that are likely, at the very least, to set back the Israeli-Palestinian peace process for a long time to come.
There is no Palestinian leader who would be able to negotiate a peace agreement in the wake of Arafat's expulsion. Worse yet, if the expulsion causes the death of Arafat and/or the deaths of Palestinians who gather to protect their leader, the likely result is a further escalation of violence, with disastrous consequences for both communities.
Washington, unfortunately, prepared the ground for this dangerous turn of events by framing the appointment of Prime Minister Mahmoud Abbas (Abu Mazen) as another case of "regime change" in the Middle East—as the replacement of Arafat with Abu Mazen—and by shunning and seeking to isolate Arafat and pressuring European officials to break all contacts with him.
This approach has compromised Abu Mazen's legitimacy in the eyes of the Palestinian population and seriously undermined his
position. He came to be seen by many as a tool and accomplice in US efforts to reorder the Middle East and Israeli efforts to
perpetuate the occupation. It also encouraged a power struggle between Abu Mazen and Arafat, who had an incentive to block
some of Abu Mazen's initiatives in order to maintain his personal control.
Defining Abu Mazen, and now his designated successor, Ahmed Qurei (Abu Ala), as replacements and rivals of Arafat, flies in the face of an important reality: Both men are long-term, close associates of Arafat and derive whatever domestic legitimacy they have and can potentially enhance from this association.
Furthermore, the political strategy pursued by these two men—and, indeed, by all of the Palestinian leaders who have been committed to negotiating a historic compromise with Israel, in the form of a two-state solution—is ultimately the strategy of Arafat.
Where Arafat's leadership has gone awry is in his tactics: his continuing embrace of the bankrupt idea that violence can be used as a bargaining tool; his unwillingness to share control and credit.
The appeal of Abu Mazen and Abu Ala is that they are ready to advocate an end to violence and to engage in realistic negotiations in pursuit of the goal that Arafat has enunciated and persuaded the majority of the Palestinian population to accept: an independent Palestinian state in the West Bank and Gaza, with its capital in Jerusalem, in peaceful co-existence with the State of Israel.
The irony of the situation is that, by the time of Abu Mazen's appointment as prime minister, there was growing dissatisfaction with Arafat's leadership—including, significantly, his inability to end the violence and advance the negotiations—within the Palestinian political elite and general population. The idea of appointing a prime minister was generated within the Palestinian community itself and represented a significant accomplishment under trying circumstances.
US pressure no doubt contributed to Arafat's decision to accept his Legislative Council's recommendation. But by defining the action as a US-sponsored regime change, we were in effect saying to the Palestinian leadership: ”We will force you to appoint a new prime minister, even if you have independently decided to do so.”
As a result, not only was the legitimacy of the new prime minister undermined, but Palestinians felt further humiliated because their elected president, the father of their nation, and the symbol of their collective identity was being denied the respect and dignity due to his status.
Not surprisingly, Arafat's popularity has increased—and will increase even further if he is forcibly removed.
With the designation of Abu Ala as the new prime minister, we have another chance to frame this political development constructively, in a way consistent with the intentions of the Palestinian reformers and the dignity of the Palestinian public. Far from removing Arafat or replacing him with the new prime minister, we should endorse a redefinition of the role of the Palestinian president. Arafat, as president, would become the head-of-state, occupying a position that is essentially ceremonial and symbolic (similar to the position of the president of Israel), while the prime minister would be the head-of-government, responsible for conducting the internal and external affairs of the Palestinian Authority, including internal security and peace negotiations.
As head-of-state, Arafat would be treated with the full respect that is due to his office and would be recognized in his historical role as the symbol and father of the Palestinian people and its incipient state.
There is no guarantee that, under such an arrangement, Arafat would readily abandon his life-long habit of maintaining personal control. But his incentive to cooperate with his prime minister would be greatly enhanced. Above all, the prime minister would start out with the domestic legitimacy that he needs to function effectively and would have the opportunity to enhance his legitimacy by pursuing a meaningful peace process and achieving positive changes in the daily lives of his constituency.
The Israeli settlements in the West Bank and Gaza present major obstacles on the road to Israeli-Palestinian peace.
First, the presence of the settlements—along with the roads built to connect them and the troops deployed to protect them restricts Palestinians' freedom of movement, interferes with their livelihood, and generally makes their life unbearable.
Second, the continued expansion of settlements even after the 1993 Oslo agreement has undermined Palestinians' trust in Israel's readiness to make peace: They ask why Israel continues settlement activities in territories slated for Israeli withdrawal and establishment of a Palestinian state.
Third, the number and distribution of settlements may soon make it physically and politically impossible to create an independent, viable, and contiguous Palestinian state and thus put in place the two-state formula that is widely accepted today as the optimal solution to the conflict.
The “road map” released by the State Department on behalf of the United States, the European Union, Russia, and the United Nations earlier this month recognizes the centrality of the settlements problem. It calls for immediate dismantlement of settlement outposts erected since March 2001 and a freeze of all settlement activity (including natural growth) in Phase I of the plan and further action on settlements in Phase II.
Achievement of these goals will not be easy. Prime Minister Ariel Sharon, though acknowledging that Israel will have to make“painful concessions,” has given no indication so far of willingness to dismantle any settlement—even in Gaza or the West Bank's heartland. He has also insisted that he will not contemplate the steps on settlements mandated for Phase I of the road map until the Palestinian Authority puts an end to violence, even though the road map calls for simultaneous actions by both sides.
It is unlikely that the Palestinian Authority, despite Prime Minister Mahmoud Abbas's clear stand against violence, can prevent all acts of violence to the satisfaction of Sharon. The irony is that Palestinian violence is most likely to lose public support and hence diminish if Abbas can demonstrate that his policies produce visible political benefits—such as halting settlement activities. Thus, making Israeli actions on settlements contingent on a total halt to Palestinian violence increases the probability that both violence and settlement activities will continue.
Despite these difficulties, if the road map is to have any chance of success, the United States and its coauthors must exert pressure on the Israeli government to take immediate steps and make firm commitments on the issue of settlements—parallel to the steps and commitments on the issue of violence demanded of the Palestinian Authority.
At the same time, however, we need to complement these pressures with positive incentives to reverse the settlement process that do not depend on the Israeli government.
A creative idea along these lines is at the center of a campaign to “bring the settlers home” just launched by Brit Tzedek V'Shalom—the Jewish Alliance for Justice and Peace—which describes itself as—a national organization of American Jews deeply committed to Israel's well-being through the achievement of a negotiated settlement of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.”
The campaign's logic derives from the fact that a large majority of the settler population is not motivated by ideological or religious commitments to the settlement enterprise. Thus, in a recent poll of settlers, 80 percent said they moved to the territories to improve their quality of life, taking advantage of economic incentives offered by the Israeli government that enabled them to obtain better housing at a lower cost. The same poll revealed that 60 percent of the settlers were prepared to accept a withdrawal from the settlements in exchange for suitable financial compensation.
The alliance's campaign calls on the US government:
to urge the Israeli government to reverse its financial inducements to settlers and instead redirect these funds to settlers willing to return to Israel.
to take the initiative in an international effort to provide financial incentives for the settlers to relocate, whether or not the Israeli government agrees to participate.
An orderly move back by thousands of settlers would not in itself resolve the settlements issue, but it would greatly reduce its negative impact on the peace process and help to break the deadlock that is likely to stymie the road map.
It would make it easier for the Israeli public to accept the major compromises on the settlements issue that a final agreement requires. It would give the Palestinian public a palpable sense that change is underway. It would create the momentum that is now so desperately needed.
The fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 ushered in a period of democratization and market reform extending across the East-Central European region, with one important exception: Belarus. Ironically, Belarus's fledgling attempts at democracy produced a leader who has suspended the post-Soviet constitution and its institutions and created a personal dictatorship. Located in the center of the European continent, Belarus lies at the crossroads of an expanded NATO and the Russian "near abroad." This fact underlines the importance of Belarus to European security and to East-West relations. To discuss developments in Belarus, an international group of scholars and policymakers gathered at Harvard University in 1999. The broad spectrum of issues covered is examined in this volume, providing an understanding of Belarus today and its prospects for the future.
In addition to the editors, contributors include Timothy Colton, David Marples, Uladzimir Padhol, Rainer Lindner, Patricia Brukoff, Leonid Zlotnikov, Arkadii Moshes, Andrei Sannikov, Yuri Drakokhrust, Dmitri Furman, John Reppert, Astrid Sahm, Kirsten Westphal, Hrihoriy Perepelytsia, Algirdas Gricius, Agnieszka Magzdiak-Miszewska, Hans-Georg Wieck, Sherman Garnett, Elaine Conkievich, and Caryn Wilde.
The American Dream and the Public Schools examines issues that have excited and divided Americans for years, including desegregation, school funding, testing, vouchers, bilingual education, multicultural education, and ability grouping. These seem to be separate problems, but much of the contention over them comes down to the same thing—an apparent conflict, rooted in the American dream, between policies designed to promote each student's ability to pursue success and those designed to insure the good of all students or the nation as a whole. The authors show how policies to promote individual success too often benefit only those already privileged by race or class, and too often conflict, unnecessarily, with policies that are intended to benefit everyone.
Even before it led opposition to the recent war on Iraq, France was considered the most difficult of the United States' major European allies. Each side tends to irritate the other, not least at the negotiating table, where Americans complain of French pretensions and arrogance, and the French fulminate against U.S. hegemonisme and egoisme. But, whether they like it or not, the two nations are going to have to deal with one another for a long time to come.
Charles Cogan's timely and insightful study can't guarantee to make those encounters more fruitful, but it will help France's negotiating counterparts understand how and why French officials behave as they do. With impressive objectivity and authority, Cogan first explores the cultural and historical factors that have shaped the French approach and then dissects its key elements. Mixing rationalism and nationalism, rhetoric and brio, self-importance and embattled vulnerability, French negotiators often seem more interested in asserting their country's "universal" mission than in reaching agreement. Three recent case studies illustrate this distinctively French mélange.
Yet agreement is by no means always elusive. Cogan offers practical suggestions for making negotiations more cooperative and productive—although he also emphasizes the long-term damage inflicted by the crisis over Iraq.
Drawing on candid interviews with many of today's leading players on the French, American, British, and German sides, this engaging volume will inform and stimulate both seasoned practitioners and academics as well as students of France and the negotiating process.
The Geography of Ethnic Violence is the first among numerous distinguished books on ethnic violence to clarify the vital role of territory in explaining such conflict. Monica Toft introduces and tests a theory of ethnic violence, one that provides a compelling general explanation of not only most ethnic violence, civil wars, and terrorism but many interstate wars as well. This understanding can foster new policy initiatives with real potential to make ethnic violence either less likely or less destructive. It can also guide policymakers to solutions that endure.
The book offers a distinctively powerful synthesis of comparative politics and international relations theories, as well as a striking blend of statistical and historical case study methodologies. By skillfully combining a statistical analysis of a large number of ethnic conflicts with a focused comparison of historical cases of ethnic violence and nonviolence—including four major conflicts in the former Soviet Union—it achieves a rare balance of general applicability and deep insight.
Toft concludes that only by understanding how legitimacy and power interact can we hope to learn why some ethnic conflicts turn violent while others do not. Concentrated groups defending a self-defined homeland often fight to the death, while dispersed or urbanized groups almost never risk violence to redress their grievances. Clearly written and rigorously documented, this book represents a major contribution to an ongoing debate that spans a range of disciplines including international relations, comparative politics, sociology, and history.
The authors of this timely and provocative book use the tools of economic analysis to examine the formation and change of political borders. They argue that while these issues have always been at the core of historical analysis, international economists have tended to regard the size of a country as "exogenous," or no more subject to explanation than the location of a mountain range or the course of a river. Alesina and Spolaore consider a country's borders to be subject to the same analysis as any other man-made institution. In The Size of Nations they argue that the optimal size of a country is determined by a cost-benefit trade-off between the benefits of size and the costs of heterogeneity. In a large country, per capita costs may be low, but the heterogeneous preferences of a large population make it hard to deliver services and formulate policy. Smaller countries may find it easier to respond to citizen preferences in a democratic way.
Alesina and Spolaore substantiate their analysis with simple analytical models that show how the patterns of globalization, international conflict, and democratization of the last two hundred years can explain patterns of state formation. Their aim is not only "normative" but also "positive"—that is, not only to compute the optimal size of a state in theory but also to explain the phenomenon of country size in reality. They argue that the complexity of real world conditions does not preclude a systematic analysis, and that such an analysis, synthesizing economics, political science, and history, can help us understand real world events.
For all the obstacles that remain, civil society is burgeoning in Japan, and the idea of civil society is at the core of the current debate about how to reinvigorate the country. The only volume of its kind, this book gathers the insights of American and Japanese scholars from the fields of political science, sociology, social psychology, and history to investigate the nature of associational life and the public sphere in Japan. It goes beyond assessing the condition of civil society to explore the role of the state in shaping civil society over time, and its broad, comparative framework is useful for thinking about civil society not just in Japan, but elsewhere in the contemporary world. Given its wealth of original research and the uniform strength of its individual chapters, this book will appeal to a broad audience of social scientists, practitioners, and policy-makers.
Tony Blair a déçu de nombreux Britanniques et Européens qui voyaient en lui le leader charismatique d’une génération. Déterminé à placer la Grande-Bretagne "au cœur de l’Europe", il a dû faire machine arrière en 2003 pour cause de crise irakienne. Le Premier ministre britannique le plus europhile depuis trente ans a finalement suivi une voie identique à celle de ses prédécesseurs en optant pour l’alliance avec l’Amérique de George W. Bush. En cela, il a affaibli l’Europe et s’est mis en porte-àfaux avec l’opinion publique européenne.
Philippe Le Corre dresse un tableau sans concession des relations entre la Grande-Bretagne et le continent. En interrogeant les plus hautes instances britanniques à Londres et à Bruxelles, il dépeint un gouvernement travailliste désireux d’imprimer sa marque sur l’Europe de 2004. Dans un monde en mutation, Tony Blair sait, malgré l’Irak, que les enjeux européens sont fondamentaux pour l’avenir. La Grande-Bretagne, autrefois si insulaire, est aujourd’hui bien plus cosmopolite et ouverte sur l’Europe. En cette année anniversaire des accords "d’Entente cordiale", signés il y a tout juste un siècle entre la France et son pays, Blair saura-t-il revenir dans le jeu européen?
Immigration's impact on the economy and on society is shaped not only by characteristics of the immigrants themselves, but also by basic features of the society that those immigrants have joined. This book contains eighteen chapters by leading scholars from the United States, Canada and Europe, who explore this theme theoretically and empirically. An introductory essay by the editor suggests four major dimensions of society which emerge as significant in this new research thrust: pre-existing ethnic or race relations within the host population; differences in labor markets and related institutions; the impact of government policies and programs, including immigration policy, and the changing nature of international boundaries, part of the process of globalization. The book had its origins in a conference sponsored by the Canada Program at Harvard University's Weatherhead Center for International Affairs.
The economics of growth has come a long way since it regained center stage for economists in the mid-1980s. Here for the first time is a series of country studies guided by that research. The thirteen essays, by leading economists, shed light on some of the most important growth puzzles of our time. How did China grow so rapidly despite the absence of full-fledged private property rights? What happened in India after the early 1980s to more than double its growth rate? How did Botswana and Mauritius avoid the problems that other countries in sub-Saharan Africa succumbed to? How did Indonesia manage to grow over three decades despite weak institutions and distorted microeconomic policies and why did it suffer such a collapse after 1997?
What emerges from this collective effort is a deeper understanding of the centrality of institutions. Economies that have performed well over the long term owe their success not to geography or trade, but to institutions that have generated market-oriented incentives, protected property rights, and enabled stability. However, these narratives warn against a cookie-cutter approach to institution building.
The contributors for this work are Daron Acemoglu, Maite Careaga, Gregory Clark, J. Bradford DeLong, Georges de Menil, William Easterly, Ricardo Hausmann, Simon Johnson, Daniel Kaufmann, Massimo Mastruzzi, Ian W. McLean, Lant Pritchett, Yingyi Qian, James A. Robinson, Devesh Roy, Arvind Subramanian, Alan M. Taylor, Jonathan Temple, Barry R. Weingast, Susan Wolcott, and Diego Zavaleta.
In the wake of the latest escalations in religious violence, politicians, the media, and religious leaders try to assure us that religion is not to blame for extremist terror campaigns and the ethnic and communal conflicts that increasingly threaten world peace. Yet events themselves demonstrate that religion can play a highly negative role-aggravating polarization, justifying enmity, even fostering deadly fanaticism. From the Balkans to the Middle East, adherents of all the world's major faiths commit indiscriminate acts of violence on the grounds of protecting their religious identity and serving the cause of God.
In this powerfully written analysis British broadcaster Oliver McTernan argues that unless this mindset changes the world will never eliminate the threat of faith-inspired terror. He explores the complex roots of religious-inspired violence, the historic ambivalence of religious traditions toward violence, and the urgent steps that must be taken next. Religious leaders of all faiths must begin to defend proactively and vigorously the rights of others to believe and to act differently. At stake is not simply the credibility of religion but the welfare of humanity.
"This comprehensive [book] takes a close look at the status of democratic regimes in Latin America and the Caribbean... This is a remarkable collaborative achievement and provides a quick, authoritative, and handy reference that will be invaluable to students."—Foreign Affairs, reviewing the first edition
Since the first edition of the acclaimed Constructing Democratic Governance was published in 1996, the democracies of Latin America and the Caribbean have undergone significant change. This new, one-volume edition, edited by Jorge I. Domínguez and Michael Shifter, offers a concise update to current scholarship in this important area of international studies.
The book is divided into two parts: Themes and Issues, and Country Studies. Countries not covered by individual studies are discussed in the introduction, conclusion, and thematic chapters. In the introduction, Michael Shifter provides an overview of new developments in Latin America and the Caribbean, with particular emphasis on civil society and problems of governance. The conclusion, by Jorge I. Domínguez, ties together the themes of the various chapters and discusses the role of parties and electoral politics.
Contributors: Felipe Agüero, University of Miami; John M. Carey, Washington University in St. Louis; Fernando Cepeda Ulloa, Universidad de los Andes; Michael Coppedge; University of Notre Dame; Javier Corrales, Amherst College; Carlos Iván Degregori, Instituto de Estudios Peruanos; Rut Diamint, Universidad Torcuato Di Tella; Denise Dresser, University of Southern California; Mala N. Htun, New School University; Marta Lagos, Latinobarómetro; Bolívar Lamounier, Augurium: Análise; Steven Levitsky, Harvard University; M. Victoria Murillo, Yale University.
Why did some Latin American labor-based parties adapt successfully to the contemporary challenges of neoliberalism and working class decline while others did not? Drawing on a detailed study of the Argentine Peronism, as well as a broader comparative analysis, this book develops an organizational approach to party change. Levitsky's study breaks new ground in its focus on informal and weakly institutionalized party structures. It argues that loosely structured party organizations, such as those found in many populist labor-based parties, are often better equipped to adapt to rapid environmental change than are more bureaucratic labor-based parties. The argument is illustrated in the case of Peronism, a mass labor-based party with a highly fluid internal structure. The book shows how this weakly routinized structure allowed party reformers to undertake a set of far-reached coalitional and programmatic changes that enabled Peronism to survive, and even thrive, in the neoliberal era.