Since the term ‘strategy’ is now generally used to describe the use of available resources to gain any objective, from winning at bridge to selling soap, it is necessary to make clear that, in this paper, I shall use it in the traditional sense only: that is, as meaning the art of the strategon, or military commander. ‘The strategic approach’ is thus one which takes account of the part which is played by force, or the threat of force, in the international system. It is descriptive in so far as it analyses the extent to which political units have the capacity to use or to threaten the use of armed force to impose their will on other units; whether to compel them to dos ome things, to deter them from doing others, or if need be to destroy them as independent communities altogether. It is prescriptive in so far as it recommends policies which will enable such units to operate in an international system which is subject to such conditions and constraints.

Over the past twenty years there has been a dramatic increase in the practice of banks located in one country accepting deposits denominated in the currency of another country. Initially, the banks involved were mainly located in western Europe and hence they were often referred to as “eurobanks” and the network which they comprised was called the Eurocurrency System. It is estimated today that the assets available to the System exceed †200 billion. Originally, the U.S. dollar was the main currency involved, but deposits denominated in deutsche Marks and other European currencies are also becoming important. In addition, the prefix “euro” is now somewhat misleading, since many of the banks engaging in this practice are located in the Bahamas, Singapore, Bahrain and other non-European countries. However, the bulk of activity does involve financial institutions in western Europe, so for convenience I shall continue to refer to the system as the Eurocurrency System.

Since the ghost of Perón and Perónism has never been laid in Argentina, it is perhaps surprising that more attention has not been paid to the thought and ideology of Perón, particularly as expounded in the Peronato from 1945 to 1955. There is a widely held perception that there is nothing new to say about Peronist ideology, as distinct from the political movement, on the grounds that justicialismo was simply an excuse for pure political opportunism. Though Perón's ideology came to mean pure opportunism in practice, it does not follow that it was devised expressly to provide that result. There was rather more to Peronist ideology than that, as this paper hopes to make clear. Accordingly, we shall advance an argument in four stages: first, to show the relationship of the ideology of justicialismo to the classical tradition in political thought; second, to advance the proposition that Perón sincerely believed in his own ideology; third, to show the extreme flexibility of the doctrine; and fourth, to demonstrate the contradictions that destroyed it as a credible body of thought.

How do members of the general public come to regard some uses of violence as legitimate and others as illegitimate? And how do they learn to use widely recognised normative principles in doing so such as those encapsulated in the laws of war and debated by just war theorists? This article argues that popular cinema is likely to be a major source of influence especially through a subgenre that I call ‘Just War Cinema’. Since the 1950s, many films have addressed the moral drama at the centre of contemporary Just War Theory through the figure of the enemy in the Second World War, offering often explicit and sophisticated treatments of the relationship between the jus ad bellum and the jus in bello that anticipate or echo the arguments of philosophers. But whereas Cold War-era films may have supported Just War Theory’s ambitions to shape public understanding, a strongly revisionary tendency in Just War Cinema since the late 1990s is just as likely to thwart them. The potential of Just War Cinema to vitiate efforts to shape wider attitudes is a matter that both moral philosophers and those concerned with disseminating the law of war ought to pay close attention to.

International relations scholars have long enjoyed an uncomfortable relationship with the concept of sovereignty. It has appeared as conceptually forbidding territory, journeys into which are likely to yield only a formalistic or unduly legalistic understanding of international relations, too close to the dignified trappings, and too remote from the efficient workings, of the international system.

The fact that democracies seldom fight other democracies has been explained monadically — there is something about democratic institutions that constrains decision-makers — and dyadically — there are normative sentiments shared by democracies that make their conflicts less probable in the first place and less likely to escalate when they do occur. The problem is that empirical analyses rarely support the contention that less authoritarian states are discernibly less likely to initiate wars. Moreover, the presence or absence of normative ties between democracies has proven difficult to measure directly. Even more problematic is the tendency to pursue regime type explanations as if regime type arguments, in either their monadic or dyadic manifestations, are likely to be necessary and sufficient. While no one explicitly argues that they are necessary and sufficient, the systematic assessment of competing explanations (regime type versus alternatives) is still very much in its infancy. Not only is it fair to say that we do not know for sure what it is about regime type that restrains conflict within some dyads; we also do not know how much relative explanatory credit to give to regime type.Arguments and evidence on the democracy-war generalization may be found in Quincy Wright, A Study of War (Chicago 1942/65); Immanuel Kant, Perpetual Peace (Indianapolis, 1957; Dean Babst, ‘Elective Governments — A Force for Peace?’, The Wisconsin Sociologist, 3 (1964), pp. 9-14; Peter Wallensteen, Structure and War: On International Relations, 1920-1968 (Stockholm, 1973); R. J. Rummel, ‘Libertarianism and International Violence’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 27 (1983), pp. 27-71; Steven Chan, ‘Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...Are the Freer Countries More Pacific?’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 28 (1984), pp. 617-48; Erich Weede, ‘Democracy and War Involvement’, ibid., pp. 649-64; Michael W. Doyle, ‘Liberalism and World Politics’, American Political Science Review, 80 (1986), pp. 1151-69; Bruce Russett, Grasping the Democratic Peace (Princeton, 1993); Max Singer and Aaron Wildavsky, The Real World Order: Zones of Peace/Zones of Turmoil (Chatham, NJ, 1993); and James Lee Ray, Democracy and International Conflict: An Evaluation of the Democratic Peace Proposition (Columbia, MO, 1995). Alternative approaches to developing greater specification, examining rival hypotheses, and presenting still more arguments can be found in Melvin Small and J. David Singer, ‘The War-Proneness of Democratic Regimes, 1816-1965’, Jerusalem Journal of International Relations, 1 (1976), pp. 50-69; William K. Domke, War and the Changing Global System (New Haven, CT, 1988); Zeev Maoz and Nasrin Abodali, ‘Regime Type and International Conflict’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 33 (1989), pp. 3-35; Richard L. Merritt and Dina A. Zinnes, ‘Democracies and War’, in Alex Inkeles (ed.), On Measuring Democracy: Its Consequences and Concomitants (New Brunswick, NJ, 1989); George Modelski and Gardener Perry III, ‘Democratization from a Longterm Perspective’, in N. Nakicenovic and A. Grubler (eds.), Diffusion of Technologies and Social Behavior (New York, 1991); Stuart A. Bremer, ‘Dangerous Dyads: Conditions Affecting the Likelihood of Interstate War, 1816-1965’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 36 (1992), pp. 309-41; Zeev Maoz and Bruce Russett, ‘Alliance Contiguity, Wealth, and Political Stability: Is the Lack of Conflict Among Democracies a Statistical Artifact?’, International Interactions, 17 (1992), pp. 245-68; David Lake, ‘Powerful Pacifists: Democratic States and War’, American Political Science Review, 86 (1992), pp. 24-37; Randall Schweller, ‘Domestic Structure and Preventative War: Are Democracies More Pacific?’, World Politics, 44 (1992), pp. 235-69; Bruce Bueno de Mesquita and David Lalman, War and Reason (New Haven, CT, 1992); T. Clifton Morgan and Valerie Schwebach, ‘Take Two Democracies and Call Me in the Morning: A Prescription for Peace?’, International Interactions, 17 (1992), pp. 305-20; Alex Mintz and Nehemia Geva, ‘ Why Don't Democracies Fight Each Other? An Experimental Assessment of the “Political Incentive” Explanation’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 37 (1993), pp. 484-503; William J. Dixon, ‘Democracy and the Peaceful Settlement of International Conflict’, American Political Science Review, 88 (1994), pp. 14-32; James D. Fearon, ‘Domestic Political Audiences and the Escalation of International Disputes’, American Political Science Review, 88 (1994), pp. 577-92; Christopher Layne, ‘Kant or Cant: The Myth of the Democratic Peace’, International Security, 19 (1994), pp. 5-49; David E. Spiro, ‘The Insignificance of the Liberal Peace’, ibid., pp. 50-86; John M. Owen, ‘How Liberalism Produces Democratic Peace’, ibid., pp. 87-125; and William R. Thompson, ‘Democracy and Peace: Putting the Cart Before the Horse?’ International Organization, 50 (1996), pp. 141-74. In particular, Bremer, ‘Dangerous Dyads’, and Maoz and Russett, ‘Alliance Contiguity’, have made some headway in examining the relative contribution of dyadic regime factors versus other sources of influence. However, Maoz and Russett's examination is limited to a restricted set of variables and the post-1945 era. Bremer's analysis has a longer time-span but his study is characterized by important operationalization problems and also fails to check the temporal stability of the outcome. More work along these lines is definitely warranted.

Concerns about Third World military industrialization, which animate a broad range of international security debates, often take for granted the South's capacity for sustained military-industrial development. A convergence of favourable conditions spurred rapid defence-sector growth in much of the South beginning in the late 1970s. But the increasingly competitive character of the global arms economy and the turbulent political situations of most would-be military industrializers have derailed this growth. The collapse of Brazil's defence sector in the early 1990s illustrates that the largest barriers to Third World military industrialization are not financial or technological but rather institutional. Simultaneous domestic-political and global-market changes destabilized the institutional foundation of Brazilian military-industrial growth, despite the defence sector's impressive technological, industrial, and political advantages. It has proven impossible to reconcile the military's domestic political needs in post-authoritarian Brazil with the global-market integration on which the sector's financial and technological development depends.

This is a much-delayed and partial reply in what might ordinarily seem a small, even local, quarrel. However, it has become a more and more plausible view that international relations theory can only make progress if it grapples with embedded and assumed notions of objectivity, and makes room for more subtle and complex views of subjectivity. There is agreement, therefore, with Hollis and Smith that an engagement with the question how epistemology and ontology are related is important for International Relations.Martin Hollis and Steve Smith, 'A Response: Why Epistemology Matters in International Theory', Review of International Studies, 22:1 (1996), pp. 111-16. This reply to their position is, however, partial in that Vivienne Jabri would seek to establish a more complex view of Giddens than a discussion piece would allow. She has already begun to do this in her recent book, Vivienne Jabri, Discourses on Violence (Manchester, 1996). but for now she would say that Hollis and Smith have deformed Giddens in their reading of him. Leaving that largely but not totally aside, this reply is to do with other deformations. There is, firstly, a deformation of our view of cultural argument, labelling it an argument for relativism. Secondly, Hollis and Smith risk misplacing International Relations not only by a restricted reading of philosophy, but in relation to developments in other internationally concerned disciplines. We hope that Smith's self-images of a disciplineSteve Smith, 'The Self-images of a Discipline', in Ken Booth and Steve Smith (eds.), International Relations Theory Today (Cambridge, 1995). do not imply it is hermetically sealed, although I have noted elsewhere how 'Western' all these self-images seem to be,Stephen Chan, 'Seven Types of Ambiguity in Western IR Theory and Painful Steps towards Right Ethics', Theoria, 89 (1997). and that is precisely part of the point I am trying to make here.

The demands of the less developed countries (LDCs) for a fundamental reform of the economic, commercial and financial relationships between themselves and the rich, developed economies have dominated international affairs for the past three years. In April–May 1974, the sixth Special Session of the General Assembly of the United Nations called for the establishment of a New International Economic Order (NIEO) and similar appeals have been made on a large number of occasions since then. 1976 was marked by UNGTAD IV meeting in Nairobi, Kenya in May and the commencement of the deliberations of the Conference on International Economic Co-operation (the so-called North-South Conference) meeting in Paris, originally scheduled to end in December 1976, but reconvened for a final session at the end of May 1977

International politics has often been viewed as a brutal place where might trumps right and where, as a consequence, questions of democracy are irrelevant to ask. In the last decades, however, scholars and political leaders have increasingly suggested that elements of democracy exist in governance beyond individual states. If this is so, how does democracy beyond the state shape international politics? This article suggests conceptual preliminaries for theorising consequences of democracy beyond the state in general and their implications for problems of peace and conflict in particular. The purpose is twofold: first, to begin reconstructing existing normative democratic theory into an explanatory perspective sensitive to international politics; second, to indicate how this new perspective is able to explain empirical observations pertaining to conflict and cooperation among states; international institutions; foreign policies; human rights protection; and the violence of transnational terrorist networks.

Much as I admire E. H. Carr's work in the international field, I intend to question the main assumption upon which it is based: namely, that it is power which always has decided and always will decide major political issues. In this respect my argument points in the same direction as two earlier lectures in this series, although my method of approach is different from theirs. My aim is to show with some precision why power, as used in political theorizing, is not only an inadequate but a confusing and even a deceiving notion. And I will begin by indicating the three main areas in which the confusions and deceptions arise.

Thirteen years – almost to the day – after formulating its Basic Principles of the International Socialist Division of Labour, at a ‘Summit’ of Communist Party First Secretaries (in Moscow in June 1962), Comecon established its Agreed Plan for Multilateral Integration Measures, at a meeting of Heads of Government in Budapest in June 1975. The causes of delay to economic integration within Eastern Europe's trading bloc have been political, but the foundation of the body in 1949 was as political in origin as was the renewed impetus given to economic collaboration by the invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968. Indeed, as a brief retrospective readily shows, international politics have been instrumental in every turning-point in Comecon's life of 27 years (one fewer than its nearest Western counterpart the O.E.E.C, since 1961 the O.E.C.D.).

In this article I explore the nature of the relationship between art and terror/ism and ask why identifications between the two are so routinely and often insistently made. In so doing, my aim is twofold. Firstly, I explore the possibility of there being a deep-seated structural link that exists between art, terror/ism and creativity. In other words, I ask if terror is a necessary corollary of the ‘creative event’. Secondly, I explore explicit examples in which artists have sought to create or to emphasise this relationship, from the perspective of Contemporary Art practices. In the spirit of experiment rather than of judgment then, this article sets up a series of trials in which art and terror/ism are philosophically, aesthetically and politically blended. It asks where else should such tests be conducted, if not in relation to the artwork and in particular, in relation to those artworks which toy with terror/ism and those artists who claim on some level, to be ‘terrorists’? How is the ‘artist-as-terrorist’ to be interpreted and understood alongside existing definitions of both terrorism and of Art? And finally, what role does imagination play in the construction of experience?

Arnold Toynbee was Director of Studies at Chatham House from 1924 until his retirement in 1954. His fame rests on two monumental projects to establish a global perspective. The Annual Survey each year reviewed the world as a geographical whole, selecting four or five themes for special treatment. It was not an edited volume. The Study of History put Western civilization in the context of a historical survey of all previous civilizations. Quite apart from his considerable journalistic output, the thirty-four volumes of the Survey and the ten volumes of the Study show how seriously Toynbee had taken a schoolmaster's injunction ‘first to see your subject or your problem as a whole’. Toynbee believed that a global perspective in terms of both time and space was of practical use.

Alan James makes a noble effort to rescue me from my puzzlement concerning Martin Wight, but I confess myself still confused. As he implies, probably the root of the matter lies in differences of temperament and experience. This being the case, it then becomes the task of the academic to pursue the argument back to the basic point at which one party asserts one set of premisses and the other another, but neither side can offer further justification of these premisses, or at least not in terms which would be acceptable to the other. This I shall endeavour to do at the end of this note. Where Alan James's article is particularly helpful is that it makes it a little clearer that Wight was a part of an intellectual tradition and that this sort of ‘private pacifism’ may be less uncommon than I had supposed, partly, presumably, becauseit is private. Nevertheless, it seems to me that it rests on, at best, a curious set of premisses; but about this later. There are some initial points to make.

Refinements in reception and application of philosophemes in International Relations theory are always welcome, and particularly in cases where distortions abound as the result of selective importation. One such case is, without doubt, the philosophy of I. Kant. Until rather recently, few attempts were made in IR theory to interface the reception of his writings in ‘anthropology, philosophy of history, politics and pedagogy’ with some more holistic appreciation of the philosophical project to which they belong. This tendency alone produces some distortions, which are only amplified by a baffling reluctance to engage the question of the plausibility of this project in the very form given to it by Kant himself. Hardly anything has been written in IR about what problems twentieth century Kant scholarship may raise for a reception practice which proceeds by ‘lifting’ Kant's political writings over into analyses of contemporary international politics.This echoes the familiar criticisms of M. Doyle's reading of the perpetual peace (for a recent critical reading of Doyle's thesis, see G. Cavallar ‘Kantian Perspectives on Perpetual Peace’, in Review of International Studies, 27:2 (2001), pp. 229–48), but should also be understood as a plea for greater sensitivity towards discourses in political philosophy more generally. This could include work on the conditions of transcendental-philosophical approaches, as they inform the critical philosophy developed by K. O. Apel and J. Habermas, and, by extension, the work on cosmopolitan democracy by Held et al. The result is that a plurality of ‘Kantian legacies’ exist in IR theory, and that their respective proponents appear to be talking past each other in addressing different constituencies.

This article examines the human rights claims made by the George W. Bush Administrations of their post 9/11 foreign and security policy. Two common scholastic explanations of this narrative are evaluated: (i) that human rights constitute, at least in part, independent foreign policy goals and; (ii) that the human rights claims of policymakers can be dismissed as hypocritical rhetoric. The article informs and progresses this debate by revisiting the works of the early twentieth century political culture theorists Gabriel Almond, Graham Wallas and Edward Bernays. The article details the consistent use of a human rights narrative by administration officials as a technique of political discipline. The article identifies five linguistic mechanisms through which this technique of discipline was made manifest in practice. The article thereby explains how a human rights narrative was employed as an instrument to inculcate, rather than describe, reality.

The political scientist who relies upon historiographic sources to propose and test hypotheses runs the risk of riling up not only her peers in the discipline, but also the historians upon whose work she must rely to provide the materials for these hypotheses. It was intellectually satisfying and stimulating to learn that my work has been read not only by scholars in ‘my’ discipline, but also by those in the discipline which made my own analysis possible, and I am grateful for Professor Hopkins' extensive comments. As Hopkins notes, there are differences in the orientation of the two disciplines: political science has as one of its central concerns ‘the state’, while historians are more interested ‘in charting changing relativities in international relations’. As a political scientist, I am indeed interested in identifying the factors which lead to such changes.

Theorists of international politics have recently observed an apparent anomaly: democracies do not seem to fight each other.See, e.g., Michael Doyle, ‘Liberalism and World Politics’, American Political Science Review, 80:4 (1986), pp. 1151-69; Bruce Russett, Grasping the Democratic Peace: Principles for a Post-Cold War World (Princeton, 1993); Rudolph Rummel, ‘Libertarian Propositions on Violence Between and Within Nations’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 29:3 (1985), pp. 419-55; David Lake, ‘Powerful Pacifists: Democratic States and War’, American Political Science Review, 86:1 (Mar. 1992), pp. 24-37; Clifton Morgan, ‘Democracy and War: Reflections on the Literature’, International Interactions, 18:3 (1993), pp. 197-204; John M. Owen, ‘How Liberalism Produces Democratic Peace’, International Security, 19:2 (Fall 1994), pp. 87-125. It should be emphasized, however, that some analysts question the validity of the ‘democratic peace’ argument. See, e.g., Christopher Layne, ‘Kant or Cant: The Myth of Democratic Peace’, International Security, 19:2 (Fall 1994), pp. 5-49; David Raymond Cohen, ‘Pacific Unions: A Reappraisal of the Theory that “Democracies do not Go to War with Each Other”’, Review of International Studies, 20:3 (1994), pp. 207-23. For the response of the ‘democratic peace’ theorists to these criticisms, see Bruce Russett, ‘The Democratic Peace: “And Yet it Moves”’, International Security, 19:4 (Spring 1995), pp. 164-75; Bruce Russett and James Lee Ray, ‘Why the Democratic-Peace Proposition Lives’, Review of International Studies, 21:3 (1995), pp. 319-23. Increasingly part of conventional wisdom, this proposition has been mechanically converted into a policy prescription, according to which the process of democratization invariably exerts positive effects on international security. Thus, for example, in his 1994 State of the Union address President Clinton declared that, ‘the best strategy to ensure our security and to build a durable peace is to supprt the advance of democracy elsewhere’.‘Excerpts from President Clinton's State of the Union Message’, New York Times, 26 January 1994, p. A17. Similarly, Shimon Peres, when Israeli Foreign Minister, announced that Israel should ‘encourage’ democratization among its neighbours in order to strengthen the process of peace settlememt in the Middle East.Cited in Cohen, ‘Pacific Unions’, p. 223.

This article identifies three key themes in British intervention for purposes of liberal reordering in the period 1815–50, namely the ‘opening-up’ of new market spaces (discussed in relation to Uruguay/the Argentine Confederation in the 1840s), a cosmopolitan humanitarianism evident in the campaign for the abolition of the Atlantic slave trade that ran throughout this period, and the political-ideological contest between constitutionalist and absolutist forces and represented here by intervention in the Iberian Peninsula in the late 1820s to1830s. In developing a strategic perspective upon military/naval intervention the analysis shows its utility to have been subordinate to more fundamental sociopolitical, cultural, and institutional determinants. With regard to understanding the outcomes of specific intervention the analysis shows the importance of systematically evaluating developments in the domestic political environments of both intervening and target state as well as the military campaign itself and the need for sufficient general alignment or synchronisation in the timeline of developments in each of these three domains. This model helps to explain that whilst liberal interventions are not necessarily bound to fail, they frequently prove more difficult, complex, and protracted than the interveners expect.