The Economic and Social Research Council recently published a Report commissioned from a committee chaired by Professor Edwards, a psychiatrist, so that the Council, and the social science community in general, might know what was good and bad in British social sciences, and where the promising future research opportunities lie over the next decade. Boldly called ‘Horizons and Opportunities in the Social Sciences’, the Report condensed the wisdom of social scientists, both British and foreign, and concludes with a broadly but not uncritically favourable picture of the British scene.

For NATO's first four decades the overwhelming threat to its members' security arose from the enormous military strength of the Soviet Union … the allies were unable to match the numerical levels of the Warsaw Pact's conventional armaments and manpower. This … underlined the key role of nuclear weapons in deterrence, ensuring that the cost of aggression was plainly too high for any attacker to contemplate.

Evan Luard, a prolific author of works on international relations, died on 8 February 1991 at the age of 64. He had contracted throat cancer in the mid-1980s, and in the Spring of 1990 it has been confirmed that he had lung cancer. His reaction to the grim news was typical of him. Not a religious man, he could realistically and calmly accept death. His major concern was that his written work should survive him. This was a true reflection of the extraordinary part that his writing had in his life.

Historians are bound by the historically conditioned values that shape their judgments of what are important facts and their interpretations of those facts. This is especially true for ‘official’ historians who must serve both their craft and their government. David Carlton points to this process in the course of evaluating the official history of the development of Britain's nuclear arsenal.1 Unfortunately, Dr Carlton diminishes the effectiveness of his position by the manner in which he chooses to illustrate it.

‘The constant intrusion, or potential intrusion, of power renders meaningless any conception of equality between members of the international community.’

According to opponents of ‘neoliberal globalisation’ located in the postcolonial realm, multinational corporations are central agents in a structure of global hegemonic rule that leaves little or no space for the postcolonial subject to determine his/her own fate. This argument is contested by a number of scholars, who point out that presupposing a lack of agency on the side of subaltern is yet another way of silencing him/her. But how can his/her ‘true’ voice be recognised without at the same time disguising existing domination? In this article, it will be argued that one possibility is the development of a different theoretical framework that challenges the taken-for-granted assumption on which the dilemma is based: the existence of the subject and its conscious voice. For this purpose, the article will use Gilles Deleuze's theory of the various expressions and struggles of life. With the help of the analysis of a particular case, Monsanto's introduction of genetically modified cotton into India in 2002, the article will suggest that the multinational company (Monsanto) should not be regarded as yet another neo-colonial oppressor. Instead, it is a war machine that unleashes flows enabling nomadic life assemblages to counter-attack.

This article reviews the idea of ‘American Empire’. For most of the Cold War, this term formed part of particular kind of Marxian critique of American power. Neither American nor European statesmen, nor the mainstream press, regarded America as an ‘empire’. Interestingly, the idea of an ‘American Empire’, stripped of its Marxian connotations, entered the mainstream towards the end of Cold War. This article asks two questions: what does it mean? Is it a useful expression or a dangerous distortion? It will be argued that, as a general statement of American political economy, ‘American Empire’ is meaningless: it neither lends itself to positive comparison with European empires nor describes any concrete aspect of the international relations of the US. However, it is possible to refer to American empires limited in time and space, for instance to formal empire in the Philippines or informal empire in Iran. ‘American Empire’ is thus a distortion; but is it dangerous? The idea certainly captured the neoconservative imagination, but it does not seem to have had real policy implications.

D.A. Irwin, Free Trade Under Fire (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2002), 257 pp.

F. Jawara and A. Kwa, Behind the Scenes at the WTO: The Real World of International Trade Negotiations (London, Zed Books, 2003), 329 pp.

Amrita Narlikar, International Trade and Developing Countries: Bargaining Coalitions in the WTO (London, Routledge, 2003), 238 pp.

American actions since the collapse of the trade talks at Cancún have suggested that trade conflicts can no longer be solved simply by a bilateral bargain with the EU that is then imposed, with a few side payments, on the other members of the WTO. The emergence of the G-21 (with its fluctuating membership) has at least opened up the possibility that trade negotiations may move away from the US–EU duopoly that has characterised them for so long towards a set of bargaining arrangements that are more multilateral. It may be that the real beneficiaries of these changes will be the emerging countries such as Brazil, China and India, all prominent in the leadership of the G-21, rather than the least developed countries. Thus, for example, opening up trade in sugar could benefit Brazil and harm Mauritius.

in an excellent and thoughtful piece in the april 2005 issue of review of international studies, david dunn draws our attention to seven myths about american isolationism. his points are well made and generally unexceptionable. however, since david dunn takes an article i wrote in 1999 as the starting point for several of his criticisms, i thought i would take the opportunity to offer a response. i have three main points to make.

No assessment of new or recently re-established democracies in Latin America can overlook the threat to these regimes posed by debt service obligations that are often heavier and more durable than the reparations imposed on Weimar Germany. No discussion of the weakening of the liberal international economic order (the trend towards trade protection, chronic instability in currency and financial markets) can disregard the extreme pressures to export, to compress imports, and to conserve foreign exchange that shape the economic policies of the heavily indebted LDC nations. No analysis of the scope and limitations of monetary policy in the developed countries (and especially in the United States) will be complete unless it takes into account the consequences for the major banks of a sovereign debt exposure which remains even now very large in relation to shareholders' equity, and which still frequently appears in bank accounts at an unrealistically optimistic valuation.

The name of Alexis de Tocqueville is not generally associated with the study of international relations. Social analyst, political thinker, and informed commentator on the fundamental intellectual currents of his age, he left to others the illumination for posterity of the states-system in the first half of the nineteenth century. Yet, while he was not primarily concerned with foreign affairs, he did not ignore them. Some of the most famous passages in Democracy in America point to the capacities, or incapacities, of democracies in conducting foreign policy. His service in the Chamber of Deputies under the Orleanist Monarchy and in the Legislative Assembly under the Second Republic from 1839 to 1851 brought him into contact with the foreign and colonial questions of the day; it was he who largely wrote the reports of two committees on which he served during those years, dealing with the abolition of slavery in France's West Indian possessions and French military and colonial policy in Algeria. The highest post—and sole Cabinet responsibility—he attained in this world of practical politics was that of Foreign Minister in 1849.

Italy's invasion of Abyssinia in October 1935 prompted a major European crisis. This article applies the main theories of foreign policy analysis to the British Government's handling of this crisis. It argues that bureaucratic politics existed, but had little impact on outcomes. Domestic politics had more influence, but did not provide detailed instructions on how to act. The perceptions of key actors, informed by reasoned judgement, determined this. Fears of the threat posed by rival states coalesced with concerns about Britain's own military weakness, leading decision-makers to emphasise the need to act in tandem with France. British policy was therefore motivated by the tension between the public's desire to see action against Italy and the Government's wish to minimise any breach with her allies. These findings highlight the weaknesses of the bureaucratic politics model and show how domestic politics can affect foreign policy outcomes. They also demonstrate the interaction between rational analysis defined in terms of reasoned judgement, and actors' perceptions. It is thus argued that benefits are to be gleaned from combining these theories.

Post-war budgeting for defence in Britain and the United States has become highly complex and politically contentious both for successive administrations and for Congress and Parliament. In the 1950s and 1960s new methods of budgeting were introduced by the Department of Defense (DoD) and the Ministry of Defence (MoD) which held out the prospect both of more efficient management of defence programmes and of greater accountability for defence spending to the respective legislatures. Paradoxically, these same methods presented problems to Congress and Parliament and to their defence and financial committees, which were unable to comprehend the new budget techniques. This and other problems produced pressure in the 1970s, in both countries, for the creation of new committees for the scrutiny of defence and other public spending matters. This paper will examine briefly the developments in defence budgeting in Britain and America and assess the advantages they were purported to offer, especially those that relate to defence accountability. It will then examine the responses of Congress and Parliament to them and assess the extent to which new committees, created in the 1970s, were able to draw upon those budget techniques in a way that provided greater accountability of defence.

This postscript deliberates the wider implications of decolonising the academy. It takes point of departure in the often-contentious public discourse on the topic and asks, why is the decolonisation agenda so concerning to public officials and the target of public policy? In many ways, derisive and irreverent responses to efforts to decolonise universities, schools, and the curricula is only expected seeing as it has the potential to disrupt the futures of the beneficiaries of colonial norms, practices, and institutions. But equally, the decolonisation agenda is contentious as it unsettles the assumption that scientific knowledge production is an apolitical affair. There are of course ample examples of scientific ‘progress’ being deeply indebted to histories and legacies of colonialism. However, it is in revealing this politics of science that decolonisation finds wider political relevance as not just an effort to recognise and remedy the legacies of colonisation in the academy. It also reveals the politics that is embedded in what we know and, in doing so, underlines the fallibility of a singular (scientific) frame, means of measurement, or rule of inference for understanding a social reality. In fact, decolonisation understood in this way is about opening up the possibility of acknowledging there isn’t a social reality. Every social phenomenon can be experienced in a multiplicity of ways and therefore reimagining IR in view of decolonising it requires a political response that empirically, methodologically, and theoretically forefronts the multiplicity of perspectives and experiences that have thus far been marginalised in the studying and understanding of social realities.