THE common note of most writing about strategic policy is that it accepts the governmental framework within which strategic policy-making proceeds in the United States as given, largely beyond analysis or substantial change. This tendency is quite natural and justifiable. Military force is presumably in the service of the nation's fundamental values. A nation's form of government is obviously basic to its ideals and purposes. It is important, however, for the defense analyst as well as the interested citizen to approach the relation of military policy and governmental institutions from a reversed perspective, one that seeks to identify the constraints that the American governmental system and the consent requirements that it establishes impose on effective strategic policy development and operations.

Every age seems to have some dominating central idea, and every particular political system surely has some dominating central idea from which radiate all the institutions, processes, and the texture of life in that country. As Tocqueville long ago said, the dominating idea of our age, and of our political order in particular, is the idea of equality. Equality is therefore at once for us the source of our political benefits and also the source of our defects and dangers. That is to say, every dominating idea is the one that determines for the society its likeliest and greatest benefits and dangers, because the central idea is the one that can do the greatest and most pervasive good and by the same token also the greatest harm. Equality is for us that central principle, the one we have to grapple with and wrest good from, and likewise the principle from which come our greatest dangers. Equality is the political problem for mankind in the present age.

The article consists chiefly in an examination of the Republic, but that examination attempts to determine the place of the Republic in relation to Plato's other works (especially the Laws and the Statesman) as well as their place in relation to it. This comparative effort permits a more precise specification than would otherwise be possible of the most important questions which are raised in those works and of the intention of the author in treating those questions as he does.

“What shall be done with Germany upon her defeat?” For many months prior to the surrender of the Wehrmacht this vital question evoked a host of conflicting proposals, official and unofficial, in both Military Government planning staffs and in higher policy-formation circles. Despite many differences, these proposals uniformly demanded immediate disarmament, demilitarization, and—denazification.

Early plans called for the occupation of Germany with the objective of insuring that she never again would threaten her neighbors and the rest of the world. The demilitarization and disarmament of the German armed forces was undertaken rapidly and resolutely by our occupation forces and those of our Allies as a preliminary step in securing this objective. But the more difficult task of denazification—that is, the permanent elimination of the institutions, leadership, and psychology in German life which produced and supported the Nazi regime—is still far from completed.

Richard Falk's Study of Future Worlds is the most comprehensive world order scheme to appear since the Clark-Sohn plan of the late 1950's. In fact, in terms of scope, function, plan and organization, Falk's 506-page work is probably the most comprehensive proposal in the history of world order literature.

A Study of Future Worlds is an outgrowth of the World Order Models Project (WOMP) that was created by Saul Mendlovitz in 1966. Under Mendlovitz's leadership, a series of national teams have produced several volumes, each offering a complete alternative world order model for criticism, comment and, hopefully, support as a serious political proposal. Falk's book is the American contribution to this series and is often referred to as WOMP-USA in the literature of the World Order Models Project.

Following World War II, survey researchers taught a generation of Americans that ordinary people were not to be trusted on fundamental rights because their attitudes were reactionary, intolerant, and generally bad. The article examines this research and its influence on constitutional politics. It proposes that this attitude perspective fostered elite domination in matters of fundamental right and an orientation away from economic rights. The article also suggests that by turning from public opinion to public knowledge we may reclaim a democratic constitutional practice.

Within Congress there are a number of forces that push toward decentralization of influence over the substantive legislative product and lack of coordination of the various legislative enterprises that are being conducted simultaneously. Chief among these forces most of the time are the standing committees of the two houses. There are also a few centralizing forces. Chief among these most of the time are the formal party leaders in the House and Senate, especially those of the president's party if the president views himself as a major figure in the legislative process and behaves aggressively in attempting to implement that self-image.

THE election of Leo XIII on February 20, 1878, made a deep and rather favorable impression on the French statesman, Léon Gambetta. Quite inadvertently, he recorded it for posterity when, on the very day of Leo's election, he wrote to his mistress:

They have elected a new pope, the elegant and refined Cardinal Pecci, bishop of Perugia. … This Italian, more diplomat than priest, has overcome all the intrigues of the Jesuits and the foreign clergy; he is pope, and the name of Leo XIII which he has taken seems to me to be a most favorable omen. I hail this occasion so full of promise.

Theoreticians have always stood in the vanguard of revolutions with programs which were designed to chart the course for nascent political régimes. When the Third Reich was officially ushered in, enthusiastic exponents of a corporative state (Ständestaat) or corporative organization (ständischer Aufbau) were at hand to act as engineers for an uncharted future—in fact, a future which occasionally offered faint glimpses of perpetuity. Some of the corporative “soap bubbles,” as Max Weber once termed them, quickly burst while others remained intact. Some of the bubble-blowers were swept on by the revolutionary forces or they gathered by the wayside to appraise the residue of their theories. In any case, the period from 1933 to the outbreak of the present war has been sufficient to allow for a survey of the corporative developments in Germany in the light of their theoretical background and institutional expression.

This article argues that issues of war and foreign affairs predominate in Machiavelli's Florentine Histories, a work generally taken to be devoted to the internal politics of Florence. The well-known narrative of the rise and fall of Medici rule is in fact driven by a counternarrative of the rise of mercenaries such as Francesco Sforza to the point of becoming the true arbiters of Italian affairs. The Florentine Histories lays out the progressive disarming of Italian powers, details the rise of a corrupt system of foreign affairs dominated by mercenary arms and their attendant papal meddling, and urgently counsels statesmen to arm their cities with arms of their own. Seeking to reframe interpretive approaches in this manner, the article sheds new light on Machiavelli's teaching on the desirability of well-managed domestic discords as they relate to military preparedness.

Unlike the laws enacted against religious and political dissenters in almost every European state since the Reformation, the Popery legislation enacted by the Irish Parliaments of William III, Anne, and the first two Hanoverians was marked by a near absence of sanguinary punishments. The long period of enforcement, one hundred years, and the areas of human activity regulated distinguish the Irish laws from twentieth-century commitments to ideals of ideological uniformity. Not only were the Irish Popery laws unique in these respects, but they comprised one of the most persistent legislative efforts ever undertaken by a western European state to change a people. Although the Popery laws have been discussed and analyzed since their enactment, such discussions have usually been colored by confessional and political partisanship. Neither polemicists nor serious historians have satisfactorily analyzed either the purpose of the laws or the problems and consequences of enforcing them. While these matters are the principal concern of this article, the writer hopes that his necessarily limited investigation of the Irish Popery laws will invite the attention of social scientists to the other complex human problems created by this legislation.

Today the term political theory has two main meanings. It means the study of great thinkers who have, more or less systematically or polemically, written on matters political. This is the sense in which the term has been used in this century, down to the “behavioral revolution.” We shall adhere to that usage. Since the “behavioral revolution,” the term has also come to mean a theory, or theories, formal or axiomatic in structure, on subjects political but not traditionally dealt with by political theory in the first sense. This kind of political thought we shall call formal (political) theory.

In On Liberty, John Stuart Mill famously excluded children and so-called barbarians from his otherwise broad grant of liberty to human beings. While many scholars have analyzed and criticized the barbarian exclusion, little attention has been focused on the denial of liberty to children. This article argues that Mill's theory of liberty rests on an untenable dividing line between childhood dependence and adult autonomy. The processes of discipline and socialization to which children are subject render them incapable as adults of achieving the kind of autonomy that Mill prescribes. Using relational autonomy as an alternative to Mill's model of autonomy, I propose that we should neither flatly deny liberty to children nor present absolute independence as a normative ideal for adults.

This article focuses on the function of human rights as a foreign policy ideal in American foreign policy, particularly since the end of the Cold War. China became a challenging target of U.S. human rights policy after Tiananmen. Human rights as an ideal may be defended either by idealist or by realist means. Whereas the former are logically consistent with the ends, only the latter promises immediate results. The Clinton administration thus began with an attempt to manipulate trade policy to pressure China into improving its human rights policies. The administration then shifted to idealist means more consistent with idealist ends, including the resort to international organization sanctions. But here Washington failed even more conspicuously. The article concludes that human rights did not turn out to be a politically suitable ideal to orient U.S. foreign policy. The impact on China was fierce resentment. But human rights have improved.

The study of international relations has passed through a series of intellectual controversies. These have included the debate between political realism and political idealism and the debate as to whether international relations is a distinct discipline or the subject matter of several other disciplines. Now the discipline is debating appropriate methodology. Proponents of a traditional approach and proponents of a scientific approach both contend for their particular methodology.

This article examines Kant's What is Enlightenment? and The Conflict of the Faculties with a view to recovering certain neglected aspects of his defense of freedom in the public use of reason. Kant's arguments in the two works are the most tangible expression of the concern with the scope and limits of reason in politics that runs throughout his political philosophy. Yet the political purpose and rhetorical strategy of that defense has received less attention than it deserves. Kant contends the possibility of establishing ends set by reason as critical standards in politics depends on rulers being persuaded that their interests are best served by cooperating with philosophers. The famous distinction in What is Enlightenment? between the public and private uses of reason proposes the terms of this cooperation. In The Conflict of The Faculties Kant makes similar arguments in defense of the university. He presents it as an institution that exists to serve governments but that can also pursue enlightening ends if government grants it the freedom to do so. The article attempts to show Kant's awareness of enduring conflicts between reason and authority in politics, and it argues that his defense of the public use of reason addresses them in a way that is still worthy of our attention.

In recent years, Alasdair MacIntyre has supplemented his longstanding critique of the liberal nation-state with a defense, grounded largely in an interpretation of the writings of Aquinas, of the politics of the common good as embodied exclusively in local communities. Even after MacIntyre's account of local politics has been clarified and distinguished from the distortions of some of his critics, there remain weaknesses, chief among which are that the local communities he promotes are pre- or subpolitical and that his hasty dismissal of modern politics involves the sort of caricature of existing political realities alien to Aquinas's prudential assessment of regimes.

Political theorists seeking to respond to public concerns about citizen behavior in democratic politics might turn to the literature on public reason. Within that literature, idealized citizens are expected to abide by what we call the “public-reason-giving requirement” when engaging in political acts. Here we examine what the doctrine of public reason has to say to political actors in nonideal democratic circumstances. We find that the recommendations for actual behavior in this literature rely heavily upon a forward- and backward-looking “Janus-faced” justification, focused on the way in which non-reason-giving political actions have or could serve the long-term interests of public reason itself. Through a critical evaluation of this idea we suggest that public reason has nothing meaningful to say to contemporary political actors. This, we maintain, is a serious flaw in a putative standard for political behavior and thus the liberal commitment to “public reason” under nonideal circumstances is misplaced.