TOWARD the end of the Second World War, Field Marshal Rommel confided to his diary that, once the German U-boats were beaten in the Battle of the Atlantic, and the swelling stream of American soldiers and supplies could reach Europe, Germany “was doomed to inevitable defeat at any place which was accessible to the Anglo-American transport fleets.” Not everyone will agree with this assertion of the prominent role played by sheer masses of military manpower and matériel in deciding the outcome of World War II. It is suggestive, however, that the fortunes of that war turned in close association with the changing ratio of munitions production by the Axis powers and the United Nations.

The Stalinists consider parliaments to be only schools for extra-parliamentary means of struggle. Were the Czechoslovak democratic leaders aware of this attitude while cooperating with the Communists both in the Parliament and Government of Czechoslovakia after 1945? If they were, what countermeasures did they devise? Even if the daily political fight over party or local issues necessarily narrowed their horizon, responsible democratic leaders had a fairly accurate picture of the situation even in 1945, when the Communists, thanks to the presence of the Red Army, could have seized power. The democrats' awareness of danger and their decision as to countermeasures were, however, influenced by many hopes and illusions, some justifiable in view of the international situation at the end of the war.

At Angkor, where the remains of an antique kingdom's abandoned capital are found deep in the Cambodian jungle, the exquisite bas-reliefs tell a story more compelling than written history. Battle scenes with a great cavalry of war elephants meld into episodes of river combat between handsomely carved fleets of oar-powered boats in an unending stone panorama of warfare as it was fought centuries ago in Southeast Asia. For one who has seen these carved panels it is not difficult to realize that when the Europeans arrived in mainland Southeast Asia in the early seventeenth century they found warfare endemic there. This conflict was not less bloody nor less protracted than that which Europe had already experienced or was about to endure in the Thirty Years' War. But this violent interaction in Asia did not seem to hold the prospect for the development of a nation-state system such as was emerging from European warfare. Rather than moving toward centralized states and configurations of alliances, the peoples of Southeast Asia in the seventeenth century appeared to be entering a phase, repetitious in their history, in which political fragmentation and spasmodic conflict were hallmarks.

Hong Kong's postwar economic “miracle” has been sustained by a minimally integrated social-political system, the two constituent parts of which are a laissez-faire bureaucracy and a “self-sufficient,” atomistic Chinese society. Until recently, this system has operated to keep politically salient issues to a manageable minimum. Secular, asymmetrical changes, however, have opened up cracks in the system; their disruptive effects have become increasingly visible. Because of its overly rapid economic growth, the organizational fabric of the Chinese society has worn away, making it more dependent on the government for need satisfaction. Together with the administrative imperatives befitting a complex industrial society, this dependence furthers the emergence of a professionalized and expanded bureaucracy. The problem of linkage between the government and the Chinese society is aggravated by the inadequacy of existing intermediary devices. As a result, a new style of politics is emerging in Hong Kong, reflecting its troubled structural conditions.

Theories of democratic development have to account for breakdowns, fascist and other, and to consider phases of incomplete democratization as well as mass democracy. To this end, they may need to relate structural changes to social and political mobilization, explain different kinds of revolution—not only the “true revolution” of leftist ideology—and different types of military coups. “Developmental dictatorships,” fascist or not, are unlikely midwives of liberal democracy. Democratic development can also be related to broad cultural and religious patterns of political civilization that may shape the course of revolutionary or non-revolutionary change.

Few theorists today admit to a belief in the “idea of progress.” But, if the literature in comparative politics in the past several years is any guide, virtually all political scientists now believe in the concept of “modernization.” Modernization theory is being invoked to compare traditional and modern societies, to analyze the evolution of individual political systems, and to appraise the effectiveness of political institutions in one or several political systems. All of the problems and subjects of political science are now being reexamined in terms of some concept of modernization.

Do existing theories regarding the impact of foreign migration explain preferences in non-oecd countries? The author adapts and applies explanations for opposition to migration in the Arabian Gulf, a significant region in global migration today, using a survey experiment implemented in Qatar. The results offer a rare validation of predictions from the labor market competition model, demonstrating that individual employment circumstances are important preference determinants. Additionally, while OECD citizens prefer high-skilled migrants, Qataris are indifferent about blue- versus white-collar workers. Mediation analysis suggests that this null effect is the result of competing cultural and economic concerns over the effect of differing classes of migrants on economic and social welfare. The novel context provides a critical test case of the labor market hypothesis and offers insight into how migration preferences in the Global South differ from the Western experience.

The relationship between Soviet Islam and the Islamic revival outside the U.S.S.R. is neither unidimensional nor definitionally antagonistic. Although bogged down in a costly civil war in Afghanistan, the Soviet leaders have tried to maintain a public stance of tolerance toward Islam. Recent Soviet writings reflect a new sophistication, which demonstrates unblinkered consideration of Islam as both a social and a political force. The quiescent state of Islam in the Muslim regions of the U.S.S.R., where indigenous populations practice a nondoctrinal, heavily ritualistic religion, further makes it unlikely that the Soviets are following aggressive policies in Southwest Asia because they fear Islamic fundamentalism at home.

Military demonstrations could conveniently be classified according to objective under two major headings: (a) those intended primarily to convey purpose or intention, and (b) those intended primarily to convey capability. The latter type is generally free of the political risks which often attend the former. Both types, but especially the former, may be effected without necessarily disclosing new advances in the use, design, or performance of weapons. In the latter type, however, there may be a strong temptation—or a strong justification even in the absence of temptation—to parade a new or improved weapon or weapons system which reflects both technological achievement and enhanced capability.

This interview-based study analyzes the attitudes and negotiating behavior of 80 individuals, principally from less developed countries (LDCs), who were participants in international economic negotiations in 1976. Some of the more important findings are: (1) negotiators' views are more diverse than analyses of roll-call votes would indicate; (2) the positions that countries take appear to be firmly grounded in national political processes and in pragmatic conceptions of their national interests; (3) negotiators from LDCs with higher per capita GNP are more likely than those from LDCs with lower per capita GNP to perceive the negotiations as being polarized, to regard social issues as important elements of development strategies, and to take advantage of regional cooperation in negotiating; they are less likely to have negative views toward transnational corporations.

We are especially indebted to the author of this book because of the extraordinary paucity of biographies of the great man who is its subject. As the British military historian, Michael Howard, says in the foreword: “Clausewitz as a man remains almost completely unknown.” And again: “As yet mere has appeared no serious biography in English and for this reason alone Roger Parkinson's book breaks important new ground.”

A Review of the political situation in post-Stalin Russia may well begin with a reflection on its historical uniqueness. Stalin, who sponsored the “Russia first” theme in Soviet propaganda, established a real and momentous “first” for Russia by his own death. Never before had a totalitarian dictator of one of the world powers died, or been put to death, before his totalitarian system collapsed, or came near collapse, in war. Hitler and Mussolini, who lived long enough to bring down their systems in ruins, furnish no parallel.

The relationship between economics and politics is a complex one. Economics no doubt has important areas of theory where politics does not play a significant role, yet politics enters into the picture whenever the question is raised of mobilizing human and physical resources for economic ends. What is true of economic activity in general is particularly true of economic growth, where changes in attitudes and methods of work lend great importance to organizational problems. In discussing this question much depends, of course, on what one means by “politics.” The term may be used in a very narrow and partisan sense or, much more broadly, be applied to policy-making in regard to strategic choices among alternate courses of action. It is in this broader sense that politics is inherent in all economic action, and policy-making in this realm may be handled by a variety of agencies. When it comes to studying different systems of economic growth, policy decisions must be taken into consideration as much as rates and levels of achievement.

Often as foreign policy may be the subject of partisan discussion in modern democracies, important international commitments are usually made only with support, or the expectation of support, from the great bulk of the political community. This has surely been the ordinary American and British pattern, labeled bi-partisan, non-partisan, or extra-partisan. We assume that political support extending well beyond the ranks of the party in office is essential for a successful foreign policy, and especially for a substantial military venture. Even the American decision to defend South Korea, while it was necessarily made by the Democratic administration before any apparent political consensus and while it eventually involved the United States in an unpopular war, was never in itself a partisan policy which Republicans as a group refused to support. The one outstanding recent instance of a truly partisan foreign policy is Britain's Suez action of 1956. As the significant deviant case, it provides useful insights into the process by which an alternative to the usual bi-partisan arrangement is developed and conducted. Specific questions concern the making of the Suez intervention decision, the nature of parliamentary support for this decision, the role of party loyalty in maintaining such support, and the significance of partisan opposition.

The hypothesis that generation has become a major source of political cleavage within the Soviet regional party apparatus is examined in the context of existing models of political generations. The attitudes of a sample of RSFSR provincial officials toward problems in the Soviet economy, as expressed in their newspaper writings, are analyzed according to several variables, including political generation. While it is difficult to speak of a significant difference in perspectives along strict generational lines, generational differences appear to be more significant within subgroups of the elite than within the elite as a whole. Several attitudinal subgroups within the younger generation are identified and their views of economic problems compared with those of their elders and with those of their generational peers. The findings suggest that the process of generational change in the Soviet Union is likely to be more complex than the traditional models of political generations lead one to expect.

Colonialism has been a sore spot in the handling of American foreign policy in the post-World War II period largely because of ambivalent forces, domestic and foreign, which have been tugging at the United States. At the heart of the colonial problem which has faced this country is the central issue of eventual political status for colonial territories. On this question United States policy has traditionally been and continues to be one of condemnation of colonialism and in favor of independence for colonial peoples, with certain reservations added in small print—the grant of independence should not be too hurried and it should be given only to peoples who desire it and are capable of assuming the responsibilities involved.

Nothing pricks one's curiosity more than the inner operations of a power system. And in the case of Russia the incentive to speculate on “what really goes on” in the councils of the Kremlin is enhanced by the supersecrecy in which the highest level of Soviet politics is enveloped, by the dramatic shifts of policy and sudden displacements of leading personalities, and by a natural apprehension about the operations of a totalitarian regime which may at any moment threaten or transform our daily lives.

The human population is the base of human existence. This, when considered, seems an inescapable proposition. But in the minds of most men it must have an absurd remoteness. The process of population has seemed like primordial creation itself, hardly a thing to be touched by mere scruple. Beyond the scope of any deliberation, the peopling of the earth has, for mankind as a whole, remained unquestioned as the earth, an axiom behind which there was no going and from which all proceeded. But according to a relentless gathering of awareness, as witnessed in an abundance of recent writings, it appears that history has marched to a new point. The condition of the world is being modified by a constellation of emergencies, and any observation and reflection on them, any rough glance at the outlines of trends in the life of the world, points to the swelling flood of population as the central reality in every perspective on the future.