During a conference on “Democracy under Pressure” that took place in November 1992 under the aegis of the North-South Center, a Venezuelan political scientist observed that, when all is said and done, the much-touted changes in the Venezuelan political system will probably not amount to much. The two major parties, which have exercised a near monopoly over electoral politics for the past 20 years, would doubtless pull in 80% of the vote in December (1992), only this time with strong local and regional leaders running as candidates.

Some politicians, government officials, and political analysts in Venezuela would agree that electoral reform, decentralization, and the growth of neighborhood associations — features of Venezuelan political life which have become increasingly marked over the last 15 years — do not alter or challenge the status quo in any fundamental way. On the other hand, there are also a number of political activists and commentators who, despite some disagreement as to the future direction of these changes, would argue that these developments are extremely significant.

The US military presence in Latin America has declined significantly over the last two decades, particularly in the major countries of the region. Despite the determined efforts of the Reagan administration to reverse that trend, with few exceptions the present ability of the United States to influence the Latin American militaries is far removed from the dominant role it played in the 1950s and 1960s. Given the pressures in Washington for further cuts in military aid programs, the trend toward declining US influence and increasingly divergent US-Latin American military interests is likely to continue in the 1990s. Although the United States will continue to be a major force in the region, the primary instruments of US influence are likely to be economic, rather than military-to-military relations.

The period of Panamanian history which is commonly referred to as that of the “military regime” (1968-1989) can be divided into two, and clearly distinct, phases. During the first stage (1968-1982), the military regime was engaged in trying to resolve the contradiction posed by two incompatible commitments: the commitment to pursue a national project of capitalist development on the one hand, and a commitment to support US interests on the isthmus on the other. To many observers, Panama assumed this latter commitment when it became a signatory of the Torrijos-Carter Treaties concerning the Panama Canal. The second stage (1983-89) witnessed some significant changes in this agenda, particularly the regime's abandonment, for the most part, of the project for national development, replacing it with a program to militarize the Canal route.

In May 1992, Pedro Collor de Mello accused his brother and then-president of Brazil, Fernando Collor de Mello, of involvement in an extensive corruption scheme operated and directed by his former campaign manager, Paulo César Farias. Pressured by opposition forces, the Brazilian Congress set up a commission of inquiry to investigate the widely publicized charges. Despite a combination of both passive resistance and active harassment on the part of government, the commission began a searching probe into Farias' diverse and shady dealings. Following leads uncovered by investigative journalists, the commission found conclusive evidence that Farias had, indeed, paid for many of the president's personal expenses, up to and including a $2.5 million landscaping job for the Collor mansion grounds. Much of this money came from the private enterprise sector in return for favors, like government contracts, which Farias was able to obtain by using his influence with the Collor administration.

When Alberto Fujimori campaigned for president of Peru W i n 1990, he ran on a platform in which he promised to institute a moderate program of gradual economic stabilization, including the privatization of certain state-owned enterprises. These promises were instrumental in his scoring an upset victory over writer Mario Vargas Llosa, who had been the odds-on favorite to win just three months earlier — and, thus, to become Peru's third popularly elected president in his country's ten years of continuous democracy.

Nevertheless, soon after Alán García relinquished the presidential office, in July 1990, to the newly-elected president, those election promises underwent a dramatic reversal. On the grounds that he had inherited a bankrupt country which left him no alternative (no habia otra cosa que hacef), the new president moved quickly to establish a stabilization program of classic orthodoxy in August 1990 (Fujimori, 1990).

Aside from the United States, Germany is Latin America's .most important economic partner. Despite this fact, Germany has never appeared to have a very strong overall relationship with the region and, due to its postwar history, has never developed a true “Latin American policy.” For obvious reasons, Germany has given high priority to (1) relations with its Western neighbors and (2) its security relationship with the United States. As far as its policy towards the South goes, it has tended to concentrate on major actors, such as Egypt and India, and its relations with Brazil should be viewed in that context.

The absence of a defined policy does not mean that Germany lacks a visible profile in the region. The role and image it projects reflects a relationship that is much broader, and far more complex, than its economic and diplomatic activities in the region would indicate.

It should come as no surprise that Panama is experiencing difficult times in the attempt to recast its political system, long under military control (1968-1989), into a functioning democracy. The military came to power in 1968 by ousting President Arnulfo Arias from his elected office — and not for the first time: they had also deposed him on two previous occasions, in 1941 and again in 1951. Following the 1968 coup, the military regime allowed no more presidential elections until the 1980s when, presumably, it felt its position sufficiently secure. However, those elections were neither honest, open, nor democratic. In May 1984, when Arnulfo Arias won the election, he was — again — deprived of the presidency when the military altered the results of the vote. When the next presidential elections were held, in 1989, General Manuel Antonio Noriega once more cancelled the results after his efforts to falsify the voting count failed.

The recent coups and attempted coups in Haiti, Venezuela, and Peru serve as a sobering reminder of the military's central role in the political life of Latin America. Earlier assessments of the prospects for democratic consolidation now seem overly optimistic in light of these events. At a minimum, they point up the need to focus on the role of the military during transitions from authoritarianism and the consolidation of democratic regimes. As Stepan has suggested, prolonged military rule can leave important legacies which serve as powerful obstacles to democratic consolidation (Stepan, 1988: xi-xii). Understanding these legacies and the problems they present is essential in developing strategies aimed at democratizing civil-military relations.

This is no less true in El Salvador, where the prospects for democratization are closely linked to the future of the country's armed forces.

In the last issue of the Journal, this writer published an article challenging the conventional wisdom concerning the future of the Castro regime. To the question “can Castro survive?,” I answered that yes, unfortunately, the prospects for his political demise in the near future were not all that good. A golpe de estado, while possible, was not probable. Nor was it likely that the Cuban masses would rise up and overthrow the dictatorship. And, while Fidel could become the victim of assassination, suicide, or natural death (or, for that matter, could even resign, as he has hinted on more than one occasion), these kinds of endings cannot be counted upon in the short run. For a variety of reasons, Castro's “final hour” seems likely to last for several years and, perhaps, much longer (see Schulz, 1993a).

Recent literature on regional integration has stressed the key role that emerging trading blocs will have in shaping the world economy of the 21st-century. With the end of the Cold War, policymakers have refocused their attention on economic issues. Economic trends — such as rapid changes in research, technology, capital flow, and trade patterns — have assumed a new importance. Increasing competition in world markets has induced industrialized countries to cluster together in regional economic blocs. This has been the case with the European Community (EC), the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA) signatories (the United States, Canada, and Mexico), and possibly Japan and its East Asian neighbors. However, these experiments in regional integration differ appreciably in nature. For instance, the EC explicitly seeks an economic and political union, whereas the NAFTA is simply a free trade area whose goal is the eventual elimination of restrictions on investment flows.

An important issue for many US citizens, particularly those who live in the inner city and in major urban areas, is the level of administration concern regarding the impact of drugs on US society and the relative priority the administration assigns to drugs as a policy issue.

In mid-October 1993, the Clinton administration released an interim policy statement setting forth its proposed strategy for national drug control. Consisting of both domestic and international components, this strategy seeks to downplay the drug issue as a priority driving the new administration's policy agenda. Within the United States, the drug policy is linked to other important domestic goals and is envisioned as just one of the elements in efforts to spur economic growth, reform health care, curb violence among the nation's youth, and “empower communities.”

There is a moment in “I, Claudius” where Claudius, the king, looks back at all that had happened during his lifetime and before and decides that it is all rotten and has to be destroyed. And he makes a statement. He says: “Let all the poisons that lurk in the mud hatch out.”

In a very real sense, Claudius’ curse sums up much of what has happened in Cuba during the last several years. All of the weaknesses and pathologies of the Castro regime, many of which had been hidden beneath its monolithic façade, have come to the surface. The revolution has soured. The situation has grown so bad that most political observers today assume that the regime is in its “final hour.” Cuba is “collapsing,” and the only real questions are when and how Fidel will go and what will replace him.

While Castro must leave sooner or later, reports of his impending demise have been much exaggerated. A golpe de estado is possible, but not probable.

In November 1992, Panama held its first nationwide election since the United States invaded the country to remove General Manuel Noriega in December 1989. Many experts, applying the strictest standards, view this referendum as the first credible national election to be held in Panama in 60 years. Others dispute this verdict, citing 1960 as the most “clean” election to held in recent memory. Whatever the benchmark, the 1992 referendum was acclaimed by participants and international observers alike as one that was transparent, free, and fair. As such, the referendum marked a small, but significant, step in the institutionalization of democratic procedures under a civilian regime.

This referendum was especially important for Panama's democratic transition and, consequently, for our understanding of the democratization process in general.

The deepening economic crisis in Cuba, the collapse of the Soviet empire, an aging leadership and revolution, and mild overtures from Fidel Castro toward the United States have, together, served to encourage those US observers who believe that the time for rapprochement with Cuba has come. In this line of reasoning, closer relations with Cuba, particularly in the economic field, will both moderate Castro's penchant for revolution and lead, eventually, to the advent of perestroika on that troubled island.

In the past, Castro has pursued a dual strategy in dealing with the United States. On the one hand, Havana has made rhetorical overtures designed to reduce tensions between the two countries.

It seems that regionalism is making a comeback nowadays (Rostow, 1990). Not so much in the real world where different types of regional arrangements never ceased to be a functional part of the workings of the international system since the 1950s, but more so in the scientific production of international relations scholars.

Those old enough to recollect the 1960s will remember how such journals as International Organization and the Journal of Common Market Studies, to name only two, were filled with articles largely dominated by theoretical and methodological considerations concerning the study of regionalism.

The low-profile foreign policy of the Fernando Collor de Mello government remained faithful to the major outlines which had guided Brazilian diplomacy for the last thirty years. In fact, during the 1990-91 period, the administration reaffirmed — in both actions and words —its commitment to such basic principles of Brazilian policy as national sovereignty, socio-economic development, international cooperation, multilateralism, universalism, and devotion to peace.

In addition the government continued to pursue the twin goals of technological progress and regional integration, both tenets of Brazilian foreign policy since the 1950s which continued to rank high on the executive agenda in 1990-91.

In fact, some of the above-named principles had become so established as national articles of faith that they were incorporated into the Federal Constitution of October 1988.

Throughout most of its history, the importance of the Panama Canal — to the United States, to Panama, and to the international shipping community — was never questioned. This situation changed when the political confrontation between the United States and the Noriega regime took place in the 1980s, and most of the media began to suggest that the usefulness of the Panama Canal was on the decline and no longer of much importance to world trade. In this regard, the media seriously misrepresented the facts. Let us take a closer look at the Canal in order to gain a better perspective on the actual situation.

Prior to World War I, the volume of trade going through the Panama Canal, though a useful transportation artery, was relatively small. In fact, in 1929, its peak pre-War year, the total volume was just 30 million tons.