On February 9, 1996, after a seventeen-month cease-fire, the Irish Republican Army (IRA) set off a bomb in East London. Less than a week later, the London police found and destroyed a bomb that the IRA had left in a telephone booth in the West End. A few days later, another IRA bomb went off on a doubledecker bus. The British government, under the leadership of John Major, asserted that it would have no official contact with Sinn Féin, the political arm of the IRA, until the paramilitary activities stopped. The government also deployed 500 additional troops in Northern Ireland. In October 1996, the IRA detonated two bombs at the British Army's headquarters in Lisburn, bringing the violent conflict back to Northern Ireland for the first time since the cease-fire.

On May 1, 1997, Tony Blair was elected Great Britain's prime minister. His election brought a renewed sense of optimism and good will to the conflict in Northern Ireland. Responding to Blair's overtures, including his warning that “the settlement train is leaving, with or without them” (Hoge 1997a, A7), the IRA announced on July 19, 1997, that they had “ordered the unequivocal restoration of the cease-fire” (Clarity 1997c, 1). Soon thereafter, Sinn Féin was invited to participate in the peace talks, which reconvened on September 15, 1997.

In 1965, when Medicare and Medicaid were enacted, concern about access to the health care system for the elderly and poor overrode concerns about cost. The legislation focused on removing financial barriers to health care for these groups, and implementation of the legislation was a matter of reaching agreements with hospitals and physicians over reimbursement and administrative procedures with the objective of insuring that health care resources would be available to the beneficiaries of these new federal health insurance programs (Wolkstein, 1984).

Ideological conflict and the alignment of interest groups are central to understanding the politics of Medicare. The intense disagreement over public versus private financing of medical care, and of universal coverage versus covering only the needy (i.e., social insurance versus charity), were key points of contention that established the context within which Medicare and Medicaid were developed, debated and enacted. Labor unions led the liberal organizations and those representing the elderly in advocating a universal, non-income tested federal health insurance system. The American Medical Association (AMA) led the health industry, business and conservative groups in opposing federal financing of personal health care. The intense opposition of the health providers and political conservatives to a universal federal insurance system led the national health insurance advocates to shift to an incremental strategy, the objective of which was to achieve a universal federal health insurance program in stages, beginning with a payroll-tax-financed Medicare program covering all (not just low income) elderly who were eligible for social security pension benefits.

These should be bracing times for students and scholars of European studies. The tumultuous events of the past five years—from the collapse of the Soviet empire and the unification of Germany, to the problematic consolidation of the European Community, and the resurgence of ethnic and religious nationalism—have recast the region's boundaries and have called into question many of the concepts and theories developed by area specialists in the postwar period.

It was with these issues in mind that the Social Science Research Council and the German Marshall Fund of the United States commissioned Sidney Tarrow to produce a report that would identify trends and raise issues of importance to the future of European Studies in the universities and among funders and other concerned organizations. Tarrow's report, Rebirth or Stagnation? European Studies after 1989, was published in June 1993 and has circulated widely among scholars, foundation officers, and university administrators working on the region.

The report finds that Europe's geo-political earthquakes pose fresh challenges for the way we think about and teach international and comparative politics. The transformation of Europe's social, economic, and political terrain has important implications not only for the region but for the international environment as a whole. Recent developments are also significant from the standpoint of university centers and funding organizations attempting to effectively intervene in an era of multiple demands and fiscal retrenchment. Virtually every institution of higher education in this country is trying to do more with fewer resources, and interdisciplinary programs—such as centers of European studies—may offer unusually inviting targets for budget-cutting administrators. As a result of these pressures, the support structure necessary for effective training and research is experiencing considerable strains.

Why should one study elite recruitment and political leadership in Japan? Because, our answer would go, we live in a world of ever deepening interdependence among nations where the peace, security, and prosperity of each is greatly influenced by policies and actions of another. This is particularly true when the latter is an economic superpower like Japan, the largest creditor nation and aid donor in the world of the early 1990s with a gross national product equal to about fifteen per cent of the world's total. Who makes Japanese domestic and foreign policies and how they are made has important implications for the welfare of other nations, including the United States, which maintains what a former American ambassador to Japan, Mike Mansfield, called the “most important bilateral relationship” in the world.

“Elite” and “leadership” are two concepts that help us identify and analyze those who play central roles in a nation's policymaking process. Commonplace as they are in the vocabulary of both modern political science and the mass media, these words are often used ambiguously and interchangeably. They are, however, etymologically distinctive words that can serve us as useful analytical tools only if they are clearly and distinctively defined. In the discussion that follows, we use “elite” to refer to a group of individuals who hold privileged positions in society or organizations and “leadership” to refer to the exercise of power, broadly defined, to lead others in collective action. As William Welsh has suggested, elites are thus “set apart from the rest of society by their preeminence in political and governmental hierarchies,” while leadership means “ability to mobilize human resources in pursuit of specific goals.”

It has been attributed to Mark Twain that he once said no one would do anything if they knew what they were in for. Assuming that most people are risk averse, most people will not gladly expose themselves to experiences or conditions that seem unusually difficult or challenging. With this notion in mind, I have led students through an intellectually, emotionally, and sometimes physically challenging course on urban poverty and social policy. After the course, students were grateful for the challenges, though they did not fully understand what they were getting into at the outset. Such challenges often caught the students by surprise, often leading to new perspectives on policy problems and to introspection of personal values and presuppositions, thereby providing substantial rewards for students as well as their instructor.

In our article entitled “The Political Science 400: A 20-Year Update” (PS, January 2007, 133–45), we presented the names and total citation counts (1960–2005) of political science faculty employed (ca. 2002) in U.S. Ph.D.-granting institutions who were among the 400 most cited in their cohort or subfield. We recognize the very important nature of our data for individual scholars and the institutions at which they teach, and we apologize to those colleagues whose citation counts were misreported, especially to those few whose counts were off by a very large amount. Yet, given that nearly 4,000 political scientists are employed in a Ph.D.-granting institution in the U.S., and given the numerous data limitations associated with using the Web of Science search engine (as we explained in the lengthy methodological appendix to our article), while we worked as hard as we could to prevent errors, having some errors in our data set was virtually unavoidable.