A great deal has been said as to whether Hitler is really representative of the German people. Books have been written to show that he is merely the latest in a long line of German romanticists, racialists, and Pan-Germans. In most of these studies, the German people are lumped together in one mass without much differentiation. In analyzing public attitudes, however, it is desirable to be as particular and specific as possible, and to break up opinion groups into all their component parts. Therefore, without desiring to minimize the emphasis already placed on the evil influences which have had such a strong and continuing effect upon the generality of Germans and the course of their history, it is proposed here to study German political opinions district by district during a critical period. It is the purpose of this investigation to ascertain whether German voters reacted uniformly as a mass when they were presented with a crucial decision. Did the reawakening of German nationalism and Pan-Germanism by Hitler evoke a uniformly strong response throughout the length and breadth of the country, or were the German people genuinely divided in their attitude toward Nazism—the latest version of rampant German nationalism?

The Revenue Act of 1943 will be remembered not only as the first one in history to be vetoed by the President, but also as the cause of an outburst in Congress against the executive capable of affecting the fortunes of the Democratic party in the 1944 elections. The significance of this last act in the drama (to date) may be clarified if we review the fiscal situation of the United States at the time, the Administration's tax proposals, and the revenue legislation actually resulting.

In January, 1943, the President's budget message estimated expenditures of $100 billion for the fiscal year ending June 30, 1944. Tax revenues for the same period were estimated at $35 billion. The President made three recommendations: (1) raise $16 billion in new tax revenue, or savings, or both, (2) simplify the income tax, and (3) put taxes on a pay-as-you-go basis. In the summer and fall of 1943, Congress enacted legislation to carry out certain parts of the last two proposals. Public discussion had forced on it some consideration of collecting taxes currently.

The Origin of Party Courts. When Hitler reëstablished the NSDAP organization in the spring of 1925, he built it up rather systematically, with several divisions to which separate tasks were assigned. The SA were the “troops,” intended for protection and order (as the Nazis saw it). The office of the Reichsschatzmeister was the finance division of the party, and the Organization Department had the job implied in its name. The Investigation and Adjustment Committees (Untersuchungs- und Schlichtungsausschüsse), briefly called USCHLA, finally, were the beginning of a now elaborate judicial system within the party, consisting of a hierarchy of local and district courts and a supreme court. As the party membership increased rapidly and the problem of its internal consolidation became pressing, the work of the USCHLA piled up. At first, the USCHLA was a rather loose organization, its members working as trusted representatives, so to speak, of the local and district party leaders each of whom had three on his staff. Their judicial competence and procedure was established for the first time in a set of Directions (Richtlinien) decreed by Hitler in August, 1929. After 1933, the Führer ordered the present Chief Party Justice, Walter Buch, to change the USCHLA into a regular party judicial system. New and amplified Directions were consequently decreed on February 2, 1934, defining the respective competences of the state and party courts, and assigning to the latter all matters affecting the party organization.

The nation at war, in mobilizing its total resources, has called increasingly upon political scientists to contribute their efforts in the public service. In most instances, the political scientist serving the federal government has not come in directly under the banner of his own profession, even though his training may be highly pertinent to his immediate responsibilities. Those who are associated with the historical records program, however, have been especially able to relate their previous preparation to their present work in the federal agencies.

This expanding program reflects the growing appreciation of the need for a full understanding of the way in which the war is being conducted by both military and civilian agencies. Not only is there a widespread desire for more adequate records than we possess of previous wars, but there is also the conviction on the part of many officials that the immediate funding of our administrative experience is essential to successful formulation and execution of policy. While adequate records as an indispensable tool of good management serve current utility, at the same time they contribute to the longer-run task of creating a full and objective account of American participation in World War II. From the standpoint of future study of government and public administration, the work on war records which has been initiated in the federal government shows distinct promise.

There is a popular expectation in the United States that the peace settlement of the major United Nations will be as effectively and loyally executed by the United States as by Great Britain and Soviet Russia. This over-confidence of the American people in the prowess of their President is partly due to: (1) the successful conduct of the war, (2) the popular credence placed in the Chief Executive as national leader in time of war, (3) the immense personal prestige of President Roosevelt and his Secretary of State, Cordell Hull, and (4) the belief that, in case the November election should bring the Republican party into control of the White House, Governor Dewey would continue with vigor the Rooseveltian policy of full participation and leadership on the part of the United States.

A warning that the American Senate might shatter this peace settlement was sounded by Senators Arthur H. Vandenberg and Robert A. Taft and other somewhat isolation-minded Republicans in September, 1943, in the Mackinac Declaration. The “constitutionalism” proposed by this declaration meant nothing else than that the peace settlement must be in the form of a treaty which would require the consent of two-thirds of the members of the American Senate. Senators Vandenberg and Taft controlled the resolutions committee of the Republican national convention in July, 1944, with the result that the Republican platform concluded its proposal regarding the peace settlement with the following pronouncement: “Pursuant to the Constitution of the United States, any treaty or agreement to attain such [international] aims made on behalf of the United States with any other nation or association of nations, shall be made only by and with the advice and consent of the Senate of the United States provided two-thirds of the Senators present concur.”

The Committee on Research of the American Political Science Association was appointed by President William Anderson in 1942. A considerable number of sessions were held during 1942 and 1943 in Washington under the chairmanship of Ernest S. Griffith. Four different regions of research were assigned for more specific exploration through panels to four “conveners,” namely, International Relations (Walter R. Sharp, later Phillips Bradley); Political Theory (Benjamin Lippincott, later Francis G. Wilson); Public Law (Carl B. Swisher); Comparative Government (Karl Loewenstein).

In developing the panel on comparative government, the convener sent various circular letters and detailed questionnaires to some twenty-five members of the profession who, by their past performance, were believed to entertain active interest in the subject-matter. The original plan of having the group function as a round-table at the annual meeting of the Association in 1942 became a casualty of the war. But the sponsors were not easily discouraged, even though war duties limited their own and the participants' efforts. After an epistolary exchange of opinion extending over almost a year, a panel meeting was held in Washington on April 17 and 18, 1943, attended by twelve members coming from outside and six resident in Washington.

All the plans for future world organization, whether they envisage a world government or are limited to providing agencies for better collaboration between the peoples of the world, are built around two main conceptions—a small council and a larger assembly. But the different plans disagree widely upon the powers and the make-up of these bodies. The purpose of the present article is to analyze the difficulties relating to the structure of the larger body, the assembly, and to outline a tentative method for surmounting them.

The structure of the different international organizations existing in the past was based on two principles: equality of representation and unanimity. That meant, first of all, that in the assemblies of nations the United States of America (population, 131 million) and Luxemburg (population, 300 thousand) had the right of equal representation. For instance, in the Conferences of the International Labor Organization, both countries have been equally entitled to appoint four delegates. Secondly, when an international assembly has tried to arrive at a Decision, not only the largest but also the smallest country could block such a Decision by casting a negative vote. While sometimes a little country has been forcibly persuaded to abandon its opposition, in many instances small countries have been able to frustrate the efforts of international assemblies and conferences otherwise unanimous.

There has at various times during the war been a good deal of discussion of the advantages to be gained from interposing a “cooling-off period” between the conclusion of hostilities in the obvious sense and the formal execution of an elaborate peace treaty. During such a possibly prolonged period of armistice (or whatever else it might be called), some of the passions generated during the war, it is hoped, might be mitigated, and an opportunity given for more leisurely, and therefore more intelligent and farsighted, investigation of many of the knotty problems to which during the war busy statesmen can scarcely be expected to apply their minds.

The attractiveness of this idea is obvious enough. It would be an inestimable benefit if somehow or other we could ensure that the postwar settlement would be made by people immune from the passions and hatreds which on all sides are likely to generate clouded and distorted thinking after the war. And it is equally obvious that, even with the most careful preparation now, there will, at the conclusion of the war, still be questions of first-rate importance, about which few people whose judgment merited respect would be prepared to offer confident solutions for immediate application. And even if they had confidence in their judgments on these issues, they are unlikely during the war to make as much progress as might be desired in convincing all the parties whose coöperation will be essential for the execution of their plans of the wisdom of their views.

A wartime training program of interest to political scientists and of possible significance for postwar educational policy is the Army's Civil Affairs Training Program. This training program prepares officers for military government service in occupied territory, and is an extension of the training instituted at Charlottesville, Virginia, in the spring of 1942. The School of Military Government is an Army post located on the campus of the University of Virginia. It was originally expected to train a limited number of officers for positions in civil affairs headquarters staff, but the capacity of the School was later expanded and its graduates actually serve in either staff or field positions.

It soon became apparent that the demand for officers trained for civil affairs work would run far beyond the capacity of the School of Military Government. As a consequence, it was decided to utilize a number of universities in the training, and the Civil Affairs Training Program (CATP) was established. Like the School of Military Government, already in existence, this program was placed under the control of the Provost Marshal General.

With the military defeat of Germany now assured, it becomes imperative to complete plans for occupation of the country. There is apparent agreement among the United Nations that Germany must be occupied; but, although much work has been done on the subject, by both the military and political branches of the several Allied Governments, to date we have not had any general policy directives from the heads of the three great powers, namely, Russia, Great Britain, and the United States. Presumably, at the Teheran conference Churchill, Roosevelt, and Stalin came to a preliminary meeting of minds with reference to the various aspects of the war against Germany. At the second Quebec conference, it may reasonably be assumed that the President and Mr. Churchill, keeping in close contact with the Soviet leader, finally came to some definite agreement regarding the measures necessary to encompass the complete defeat and occupation of Germany.

It has been generally agreed all around that Germany must be occupied by the troops of the Allied Nations, but many of the specific details of such an occupation have not yet been thought through. When we speak of the occupation of Germany, we must first of all define exactly what we mean by the term Germany. It is expected that “Germany” will be understood to cover only those territories included within the Republic prior to Hitler's accession to power. It might be better to agree that the boundaries shall be understood to be those of January 1, 1932.

One of the most crucial and controversial questions in the field of international criminal justice is that of whether “superior command” is a good defense in a war-crime trial. The answer is of cardinal importance, since trials of war criminals may prove entirely useless if accused persons are permitted simply to pass on the responsibility for their acts to their superiors. The line would lead straight to the omnipotent leader, who might choose to escape prosecution altogether by putting an end to his life. Opinions of writers on the subject are divided, and so are court decisions, war manuals, and legislative provisions. While the American and British war manuals, backed by Oppenheim's authority, recognize “superior command” as a full defense, Anglo-American practice, expressed in numerous decisions and supported by many authorities, refuses to ascribe to it any exculpating effect. Some theories recognize “superior command” as a defense to a limited extent only, dependent upon whether the subordinate actually knew, or had reasonable grounds for knowing, that a given command contemplated a punishable, or at least an illegal, action.

What has not been tried up to now, and what seems a worth-while undertaking, is to analyze the general conception of war crimes and to try to reach a solution of the indicated problem out of a clearer understanding of that conception.

On February 28, 1942, a conference at Atlantic City was arranged by the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace to inaugurate discussions on the international law of the future. Since that time, a series of group conferences and smaller meetings have been held in various centers of the United States and Canada, at which nearly 200 men, chiefly Americans and Canadians, participated—judges, lawyers, professors, governmental officers, and men of special international experience. To assure continuity, a few persons—outstanding among them Judge Manley O. Hudson of the Harvard Law School and Professor P. E. Corbett of McGill University—were present at all the meetings, and a small committee prepared the different drafts.

The aim of these informal conferences, held over a period of nearly two years, was to arrive at a community of views; and this was achieved when a Statement, growing out of successive drafts, was subscribed to by some 150 of the persons who had participated in the discussions. This document, hitherto strictly confidential, has now been released for publication. Its contents are not to be taken, either in whole or in part, to represent the individual views of any particular person who participated in the discussions.

The Statement consists of six Postulates, ten Principles, and twenty-three Proposals, each explained by comment in the light of the history of international law over a period of a hundred years. The Postulates set forth the essential premises, the basic conceptions, of an effective international legal order. The Principles—so to speak, the heart of the Statement —are offered as a draft of a declaration which might be officially promulgated by the statesmen who will build the future peace. The Proposals are indications, suggestions for implementing the Principles, but are not presented as draft provisions for inclusion in an international instrument.

It is the object of the present article to summarize and comment upon the Statement's principal features.

In discussing the problems of military government, some writers have recalled critically the fact that in 1918 the armies of occupation did not coöperate with the workers' and soldiers' councils in Germany. Did this really mean that the commanding officers hampered Germany's transition from a half-absolutist monarchy to a democratic republic? What was the position of the workers' and soldiers' councils in the total population? How did the occupation armies act toward the democratic movements in Germany? As one of the leaders of the revolution against the Emperor, and as a close observer of the foreign armies in my home province, the Rhineland, I may be justified in presenting some facts and experiences.

When on November 11 I read in Paragraph V of the armistice agreement that “the left bank of the Rhine shall be administered by the local authorities under the control of the troops of occupation,” I informed my friends in the Cologne workers' and soldiers' council that this undoubtedly meant the end of that council on the day of the arrival of the foreign troops. It was clear that we were no “local authorities.” Nowhere had the councils replaced the civil servant administration of the former régime. Why not? Simply because the social-democratic labor movement, which alone backed the councils, was in most places, on the left bank of the Rhine, a small minority. Only by using terror against a large majority of the population could we have eliminated the existing civil servant administration. Such terror was against the democratic principles and traditions of our movement. Incidentally, even the wildest radicals knew in those days of threatening chaos that a sudden break-up of a centuries-old civil servant administration would mean grave disaster, especially in shipping the necessary supplies to the exhausted population.

The Suez Canal has been regarded at times and uncritically as one of Egypt's great assets. It is so considered by many of the political leaders of Egypt, as their attitude on Canal issues bears witness. In the sense that the Suez waterway, both as a project and as an achievement, has brought the land of Egypt prominently into the world scene during the past century, it has been a factor in the trend of development of that country second in importance only to the Nile River itself. This is no indication, however, that the Canal has had a beneficent influence on Egyptian life. Actually, a careful estimate of the changes it has wrought, both economic and political, leads inescapably to the conclusion that, with respect to tangible effects, the waterway thus far has worked to the distinct disadvantage of Egypt. It is impossible to bring the intangible balance sheet to totals, but it is safe to say that an Egyptian patriot more concerned with his country's national security and a balanced budget than with its prominence in world affairs might well deplore the fact that the Canal ever progressed beyond the stage of discussion.