Though declining to run for a fourth term in 1945, Mayor Fiorello H. La Guardia boasted: “Listen, I could run on a laundry ticket and be elected!” At one time or another during his political career, the Mayor had run under nine different party labels—under as many as four in a single election. To the outsider and the New Yorker alike, this multiplicity of candidacies and parties in New York City is highly confusing. The multi-party system is due to many factors, especially the election laws, the size and complexion of the population, the existence of an active independent movement, and the recent political activity of and schisms within organized labor.

Rattling the “superstate skeleton” has become the principal pastime of those who oppose the establishment of regional agencies for the development of the natural resources of the nation. While the superstate argument was used against TVA during its early existence, it forms no part of the present thinking of the people of the Tennessee Valley and their public institutions which have collaborated with TVA for the past thirteen years in the development and utilization of the resources of the region. Any needed proof of the fallacy of the argument that TVA has undermined state and local institutions in the Tennessee Valley is provided by the testimony of the governors of the seven states on the coöperative and profitable relations between their states and TVA.

Such misunderstanding as still prevails outside the Valley regarding TVA and its relationships with state and local governments seems to arise, in large measure, from the sedulous spreading of misinformation on the nature of TVA's grant of powers.

The government corporation, by reason of its use as an instrument for administering commercial and emergency programs in two world wars and one depression, has become a familiar device in American government. A recent census turned up some 115 federal corporate agencies, with over 20 billion dollars in assets. Admittedly, not all of these were government corporations “in the strictest sense of the term,” and some have since been liquidated with the ending of the war. More than half of the total of 115, moreover, are attributable to the fact that the federal land banks, intermediate credit banks, banks for coöperatives, production-credit corporations, and home loan banks are organized on a regional basis, with twelve individual corporations in each category. Nevertheless, the list is an impressive one, including such permanent major federal agencies as the Reconstruction Finance Corporation, the Tennessee Valley Authority, the Panama Railroad Company, the Inland Waterways Corporation, the Export-Import Bank, the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, the Federal Public Housing Authority, and the Farm Credit Administration system.

In his presidential address delivered before the American Political Science Association in January, 1944, Professor Robert E. Cushman set forth clearly and convincingly the dilemma which confronts contemporary democratic nations. If they suppress discussion out of fear of fifth column and other subversive elements, democracy may perish from within, since constructive critical forces will in all probability be suppressed along with the elements of danger and dissatisfaction. If they permit freedom of discussion and propaganda, those hostile to democracy may use freedom of speech to gain control of the democratic processes for the purpose of suppressing the very democracy which has permitted them to ride to power.

The world has seen this process at work both in Spain and in Germany, where the abuse of parliamentary immunity helped to hasten the overthrow of free peoples. And this type of danger will face the democracies after the present war at a time when emotional attitudes will be marked by greater intolerance. The danger may possibly come from those who desire internal reaction, from those who are members of fifth column groups, or possibly from a combination of both; for in an age of confused purposes national groups willing to link themselves with foreign elements for the forcible suppression of parties and groups of which they disapprove have come to be not uncommon.

Parliamentary democracy in Britain has once again to face and solve a problem which in itself is by no means new. It has to find the means of preserving, under the conditions of today and tomorrow, two principles, each of which is fundamental to democratic government, but which tend in times of major change to come into conflict. The one is that Parliament, as the supreme power in the state, shall retain its full and unchallenged control over public policy, both in legislation and in administration; the other, that the public business shall be efficiently conducted—that the right things shall be done at the right time. For in so far as the system fails on the former count, it ceases to be democratic; and to the extent that it fails on the latter count, its repute, and even its very existence, may be endangered.

It is commonly admitted that the British parliamentary machine has at times—and in recent years with increasing frequency—been overworked. Changes in the law called for by new situations, by public demand, or by administrative expediency are liable to be postponed from session to session for lack of parliamentary time, until the right moment for decision has passed. Matters which deserved full discussion are liable to be decided in haste under some form of closure of debate. The choice of subjects for legislative projects in any particular session tends, at times, to be determined as much by sectional pressures of one kind or another, public or departmental, as by a considered weighing of the public interest or a general plan of policy.

While much attention has been given to the efforts of Congress to improve itself, the activities of the state legislatures which have sought improvements as diligently, incidentally fulfilling their laboratory function, have gone virtually unnoticed. Twenty-eight states have given consideration to the renovation of the law-making branch. Comprehensive studies were made in Massachusetts, Connecticut, and in a more limited manner in California. New York, currently intent on modernizing its legislature, has already issued an interim report on expenditures and personnel, although the complete recommendations of its Joint Legislative Committee are yet to come. Committees whose frame of reference limits them to “tinkering” rather than “overhauling” are at work in Michigan and Colorado, with no reports yet submitted. In Alabama, an interim committee called for limited changes. The Bureau of Research established by the Indiana General Assembly in 1945 is authorized, among other things, to conduct research into improved methods of legislation.

The crucial position of the state legislatures in our scheme of government cannot be over-emphasized. The failure to make themselves truly representative by periodic reapportionment and to streamline their organization and procedure, not to mention corruption among personnel, has resulted in an inability and unwillingness to rise to their responsibilities. Political collusion between rural legislators and their henchmen in local government has thwarted unification of multitudinous jurisdictions and the modernization of local administration. When depression-born demands for modern services were not met by state and local government, the federal government of necessity undertook new functions, causing centralization of government in the United States amid condemnation by the same state lawmakers whose inaction clipped democracy short at the grass roots.

The old saws, “money makes the mare go” and “he who pays the piper calls the tune,” make for awareness of the central importance of budgeting in government. While these expressions indicate the possibility of a measure of general understanding of public budgeting, they also are indicative of the ease with which superficiality and misconceptions may develop in this field. A public budget, one authority has rightly declared “… is not what most people conceive it to be. It is not figures about sums of money to be set aside for definite expenditures, nor is it a series of graphic charts, nor multitudes of sheets indicating limits not to be exceeded.” While columns of figures, forms and procedures, and preparation of the budget document are important budget activities, they are only incidental to the basic functions of budgeting, which are to aid the executive in his job of management and to help simplify the task of the legislative body in determining policy. To carry out these two functions properly, the whole governmental organization, indeed, the citizenry, too, must be involved in budgeting.

The budget is a psychological device to make people in an administrative organization think and, as will be explained more fully, to make the people themselves think about their government. Budget reformers, hard at work in this worthy cause since the model municipal corporation act of 1899 was drafted, have emphasized the executive's rôle in budgeting: “it shall be the duty of the Mayor … in each year to submit to the Council the annual budget …” The tendency has been for the executive and his budget officer, commonly the controller, to work up a budget and then impose it, with councilmanic consent, on the administration.

Recent reports on political events in Germany have frequently given the impression that the political parties organized there during the last few months are mass movements, based on the solid support of considerable numbers of citizens. Such a concept would, however, hardly fit the present picture. The lost war and its aftermath have left the German people stunned and discouraged. The presence of great armies of occupation and the obvious impotency of all native officials do not encourage political activities. Moreover, the German people have just passed through a period of twelve years during which every human endeavor—even of the most personal nature—was fraught with alleged or real political implications. A natural reaction set in, and even the word “politics,” once hallowed by generations of German intellectuals, is frequently met with revulsion. Only a few Germans understand that political life need not necessarily conform to the Nazi pattern. The vast majority, as far as can be ascertained, still see in “politics” only blatant, showy demonstrations, incessant harangues, and the complete negation of privacy. The memory of the Weimar Republic is dim, and where it exists an often exaggerated picture is retained of the multitude of parties and the squabbles in the Reichstag, but no memory of the fine and hopeful features of the ill-fated Republic. In this respect, the spirit of Goebbels is still very much alive. But, above all, the tremendous destruction, the insufficient diet, and the never-ending and never quite successful search for the most primitive means of existence leave the people exhausted and in the main without other interests. This state of apathy is furthered, too, by the well-known readiness, if not desire, of many Germans to submit to authority. Particularly when the occupation of their country was still new, most observers found the conviction among all classes of the population that the future of Germany was entirely an Allied matter and that the exclusion of Germans from all important decisions was a foregone conclusion. Few believed that political initiative by the Germans themselves would in any way ease the situation, and many considered that such action would end only in further confusion and consequently in a harder life for all. Since the unconditional surrender, this feeling of apathy has subsided only slowly and to but a slight extent. The majority of people went to the recent communal elections without much interest and in a spirit of obedience, rather than with the idea that they were performing an act of self-government.

Analysis of the position of the Soviet Union in the postwar world may logically begin with internal policy. Lenin himself invited this approach when he wrote: “There is no more erroneous nor harmful idea than the separation of foreign and internal policy.”

It is audacious for an outsider to predict the future course of Soviet policy. Too many factors which only Soviet leaders can know enter into the decisions. Nevertheless, we Americans are about to enter a period in which the Soviet Union will play a major rôle. Our situation demands that we know our neighbor, and this paper is directed to that end. It will discuss the various aspects of outstanding importance from which internal policy is formulated.

Political Theory. Soviet statesmen have retained their basic thinking as to the character of the Soviet state. Commissar Vyshinsky twice restated it publicly during the war itself. In 1942, he told the Soviet Academy of Sciences that “the Soviet State, as a state of the proletarian dictatorship, must be a new type of democratic state for the proletariat and the propertyless, in general, and a new kind of dictatorship against the bourgeoisie.”

In these days of widespread dissatisfaction with legislative bodies, we are being presented with numerous studies on legislative improvement. One of the most interesting has recently been made by a special grand jury which investigated the New York state legislature. Although the final presentment praises the “general efficiency” and “rectitude” of the legislature and concludes with the statement that “the general picture … is of earnest men diligently engaged upon a public task in an earnest manner,” specific findings reveal serious laxities in the conduct of the state's legislative affairs. No doubt similar laxities may be found in most other states.

There are always rumors and whisperings as to evil goings-on in our legislative halls. The New York special grand jury did a real service in finding out their truth or falsity. It is of interest that neither the legislature nor the governor would, on their own volition, have considered such an investigation. We owe it to the fortuitous circumstance that Republican Governor Dewey and the Democratic political machine of Albany county did not like each other.

Unsuccessful as plaintiffs and appellees in a prayer for relief under the Federal Declaratory Judgment Act of 1934, as amended, from the effects of the inequitable and outmoded act of Illinois of 1901 creating the present Congressional districts, Kenneth W. Colegrove (who in other capacities is chairman of the department of political science at Northwestern University and secretary-treasurer of the American Political Science Association), Peter J. Chamales, attorney, and Kenneth C. Sears, professor of law at the University of Chicago, have nevertheless received from the District Court and from the Supreme Court encouraging dicta and dissent which foreshadow new developments in election law.

The legislature of Illinois has repeatedly refused to redistrict the state for Congressional representation, despite grave and increasing population shifts. A new but inequitable Congressional redistricting act, passed by the General Assembly in 1931, was declared unconstitutional by the state supreme court because it violated federal law and the provision of the Illinois constitution requiring that “all elections shall be free and equal.” Ten years later, when a similar attack was made on the long-standing and much more discriminatory act of 1901, the Illinois supreme court took an opposite view, declaring that the constitutional section is addressed primarily to the legislature and that to argue for a requirement, in all cases, that districts be equal in population “is to assert a millennium which cannot be reached.”

“The Arab World,” said Mr. Anthony Eden, British Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, in his speech at the Mansion House, May 29, 1941, “has made great strides since the settlement reached at the end of the last war, and many Arab thinkers desire for the Arab peoples a greater degree of unity than they now enjoy. In reaching out towards this unity, they hope for our support. No such appeal from our friends should go unanswered. It seems to me both natural and right that the cultural and economic ties, too, should be strengthened. His Majesty's Government for their part will give their full support to any scheme that commands general approval.”

The Arab nationalists long ago aspired to achieve the ideal of an Arab union, or federation. But, they maintained, European imperialism had deliberately prevented the realization of that ideal. The Arabs had. fought on the side of the Allies in the first World War in order to achieve their freedom from Ottoman rule; but, following that war, the Arab World was detached from Turkish sovereignty only to be dominated by European Powers who, by applying the principle of mandatory tutelage, sought to satisfy their imperialistic interests. Moreover, the nationalists contended, the Arab World was deliberately divided into separate countries in order to make easy their domination by creating small and hopelessly weak states.

Although legally buried since 1891, the “precinct” in New Hampshire, like Banquo's ghost, continually arises to baffle students of New England local government. To the lawmakers, it is known as the village district; while in its annual report the state tax commission lists village districts as precincts, only adding to the confusion.

In making a count of governmental areas in New Hampshire, one finds the state divided into ten counties. Within these, there are eleven municipalities classed as cities and 224 towns. The cities were once towns, but have been incorporated as cities by the legislature, not in accordance with a population prerequisite, but upon application. The first city to be incorporated was Manchester in 1846.

All New Hampshire cities and towns include within their limits a great deal of rural land. Clusters of houses or settlements are sprinkled over these areas. Frequently, a settlement has several stores, a post office, and a railroad station and has the outward appearance of a village. Legally, however, such a settlement is not a village. It is administered entirely as a part of the town or city in which it is located, although it may be several miles from the principal urban center. New Hampshire has 639 such settlements, none of which is incorporated. Villages are not incorporated in New Hampshire as they are in Connecticut, Vermont, and Maine. Frequently they are referred to as places, but they should not be confused with the 23 so-called “unincorporated places” (found principally in the White Mountains), which are administered by the county and state governments almost completely. However, there are a few of the “villagelike” settlements within unincorporated places.