By now, you have developed a routine in which you read Perspectives on Politics, cover to cover, within a short time after receiving it. You discuss its contents with your professional colleagues as well as with friends outside the discipline, you include its articles in your syllabi, and you use its insights in your research and writing. You have completed the review that we requested. Perhaps most important, you are putting the finishing touches on a broad, synthetic, innovative, politically relevant, elegantly written draft manuscript that you will submit to the journal very soon.

I discuss several conceptual problems raised by current understandings of political violence, especially as they pertain to actions, motivations, and identities in civil wars. Actions “on the ground” often turn out to be related to local and private conflicts rather than the war's driving (or “master”) cleavage. The disjunction between dynamics at the top and at the bottom undermines prevailing assumptions about civil wars, which are informed by two competing interpretive frames, most recently described as “greed and grievance.” Rather than posit a dichotomy between greed and grievance, I point to the interaction between political and private identities and actions. Civil wars are not binary conflicts, but complex and ambiguous processes that foster the “joint” action of local and supralocal actors, civilians, and armies, whose alliance results in violence that aggregates yet still reflects their diverse goals. It is the convergence of local motives and supralocal imperatives that endows civil wars with their particular and often puzzling character, straddling the divide between the political and the private, the collective and the individual.

In striking contrast to the legislatures in most modern democracies, Congress retains an important place in American politics and policy making. Especially in recent years, this has led many observers to question the importance of the presidency and bureaucracy to the real work of American governance and the extent to which political actors in the executive branch generally exercise power. This narrative of congressional dominance has been particularly bolstered by recent scholarly interest in principal-agent models of interbranch relations. The assumption of congressional centrality, however, obscures many important features of American politics. Over the course of American history, institutional development in particular has often been driven by either autonomous executive action or conflicts between Congress and the executive. We develop an approach for assessing executive power in institutional politics and illustrate the logic of executive influence with three cases: the rise of federal food-and-drug and forestry regulation, and the growth of the federal farm extension service in the early twentieth century; the rise of the national security state in the mid-twentieth century; and the evolution of budgeting and spending practices over the course of the twentieth century.

Is the self-esteem of individuals tied to their nation? If so, is that a good reason to strive for a world of safe, secure nations? Many liberal nationalists answer yes to these questions, but they do so without looking at the large social-psychology literature on groups and self-esteem. We examine the claims of liberal nationalists in light of this literature. The good news is that self-respectWe use the terms self-respect and self-esteem interchangeably. and group identity are strongly connected and can lead people to place collective interests above individual interests. The bad news is that the liberal-nationalist assumption that low-status groups have little self-respect and majority groups have it in abundance is mistaken. Perhaps most worrisome is the competitive nature of collective self-esteem: people feel better when their group does better than others. This competitiveness can lead to outright hostility when groups compete for resources and political power. Self-esteem is clearly an unstable foundation for a liberal nation. Although we do not think that problems caused by national identity and self-esteem can be fully solved, we do suggest ways in which they can be contained.

American foreign policy appears to have taken a sharp unilateral turn. A half century of U.S. leadership in constructing an international order organized around multilateral institutions, rule-based agreements, and alliance partnerships seems to be giving way to an assertive unilateralism. But how deeply rooted is this unilateral turn? Is it an inevitable feature of America's rising global power position? This article argues that the United States is not doomed to shed its multilateral orientation. Unipolar power provides new opportunities for the United States to act unilaterally, but the incentives are actually quite complex and cross-cutting; and these incentives arguably make multilateralism more rather than less desirable for Washington in many policy areas.

Afew years ago, I interviewed two retired men who had helped organize a huge class-action lawsuit against the Chinese government's efforts to demolish most of Beijing's old town. The men had been elected in a secret ballot by all 10,000 members of the lawsuit; they were the group's representatives in court and to the media. At the end of our talk, I asked one of the men why he was so confident that they would win the suit, which to me seemed doomed to failure.

Few contemporary political scientists would disagree that race has been a pivotal force in American politics since this country's founding. The magnitude and scope of its impact on current political life is, however, a matter of intense debate. Political theorists have conspicuously not been at the forefront of these race-specific discussions. This is not because political theory has ignored race per se. On the contrary, contemporary political theorists increasingly include race in their descriptive and normative analyses of democratic politics. Debates about identity politics, multiculturalism, the redress of invidious discrimination, and feminist discourse on intersecting social identifications have moved from the margin to the center of political theory and typically involve at least some attention to racial difference. But these discussions have for the most part not examined racial meaning in a sustained, focused manner. While there are exceptions, political theory, as a discipline, has not given theoretical priority to American race.See, for example, Balfour 2001; Appiah and Gutmann 1996; Young 1990.

On April 22, 1993, President Bill Clinton addressed a crowd of 10,000 people gathered for the dedication of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum (USHMM). He reminded the audience that “this museum is not for the dead alone…. [I]t is perhaps most of all for those of us who were not there at all: to learn the lessons, to deepen our memories and our humanity, and to transmit these lessons from generation to generation.” One of the principal lessons of the Holocaust, he suggested, was that the United States and other countries should have done more to prevent it or to rescue more victims from the Nazi killing machine: Even as our fragmentary awareness of crimes grew into indisputable facts, far too little was done. Before the war even started, doors to liberty were shut. And even after the United States and the Allies attacked Germany, rail lines to the camps within miles of militarily significant targets were left undisturbed…. The evil represented in this museum is incontestable. But as we are its witness, so must we remain its adversary in the world in which we live, so we must stop the fabricators of history and the bullies as well. Left unchallenged, they would still prey upon the powerless; and we must not permit that to happen again.Bureau of Public Affairs 1993, 322.