Academics and policymakers often argue that global health policy greatly affects and influences national health systems because these policies transfer and implant ‘best practice’ norms and accountability techniques into local health systems. On the whole these arguments about the ‘diffusion of norms’ have merit since there is considerable evidence to suggest the existence of a positive correlation between global norms and national behaviour. Nevertheless, this article argues that traditional analytical frameworks to explain norm diffusion underplay the fact that norms are significantly ‘glocalised’ by national actors and further discount the role that national leadership plays in strengthening health systems. In response, this article presents a ten-year comparative paired study of the participatory governance mechanisms of the South African health system and its health strengthening measures. In doing so, the role of the national government in their relations with the Global Fund to Fight AIDS, Tuberculosis, and Malaria (GFATM) will be examined and how key ‘partnership’ norms were amalgamated into health governance mechanisms. It will be argued that although global policy plays an important guiding role, health norms are never transcribed straightforwardly and a central element to successful health governance remains vested in the nation and the leadership role it exerts.

‘What one can say in an original way about foreign policy is extremely limited. You can apply the basic principles to new situations, but essentially one says the same thing all over again in a different geographic, political, and military context.’ These are the words of Hans J. Morgenthau, spoken towards the end of a life devoted to the study of international politics. Yet was it that simple? And did Morgenthau really say the same things all over again in different geographic, political, and military contexts?

On 22 June 1946 the Government of India asked that the treatment of Indians in South Africa be placed on the agenda of the Second Part of the First UN General Assembly. This was the first dispute to be taken to the General Assembly and it resulted in the UN's first attack on South Africa. From the perspective of the 1990s the only striking thing about the 1946 UN resolution is its mild tone and the limitation of its criticism to South Africa's, policies relating to just one group. However, from the perspective of 1946 it is remarkable that the UN should even have discussed South Africa's treatment of her Indian citizens, let alone have decided by a two-thirds majority that she had failed to treat them in conformity with. her international obligations and the relevant provisions of the UN Charter.

Late in the summer of 1950, after the outbreak of the Korean War, the US administration adopted a policy paper entitled NSC 68. This paper was drafted in February and March and it paved the way for the most comprehensive re-armament programme the United States had ever undertaken in time of peace. US defence expenditure was increased from 6.9% of the US GNP in Fiscal 1951 to 12.7% in Fiscal 1952, rising to 13.8% in Fiscal 1953; NSC 68 thus ushered in the post-World War II peak of US defence spending as percentage of GNP. In his admirable work on US defence strategy, John Lewis Gaddis has called NSC 68 ‘a deeply flawed document’. He concludes his analysis of NSC 68 by saying that the US Administration adopted measures which

Through the War on Terror the United States developed a seemingly enlightened understanding of Muslim women. In contrast to Orientalised representations of Muslim women's passivity and victimisation within brutal Islamic cultures these emerging representations posit Muslim women in terms of their modernity and liberation. The emergence of this new Muslim woman illuminates an attempt to secure an Occidental self through the negotiation of conflicting impulses towards Islam. Islam is recognised as the repository from which the US enemy other emerges yet the WoT also reflects a particular desire for a cosmopolitan inclusivity. The presence of the Muslim woman acts to assuage these tensions. Her oppression confirms the barbarity of the enemy yet the combination of her intrinsic agency and religiosity posits her as an acceptable Islamic other whose presence confirms the pluralistic tolerance of the US and the universal validity of its project.

Why do great powers expand? Offensive realist John Mearsheimer claims that states wage an eternal struggle for power, and that those strong enough to seek regional hegemony nearly always do. Mearsheimer’s evidence, however, displays a selection bias. Examining four crises between 1814 and 1840, I show that the balance of power restrained Russia, Prussia and France. Yet all three also exercised self-restraint; Russia, in particular, passed up chances to bid for hegemony in 1815 and to topple Ottoman Turkey in 1829. Defensive realism gives a better account of the Concert of Europe, because it combines structural realism with non-realist theories of state preferences.

It has become fashionable among International Relations scholars to draw on the concept of ‘autoimmunity’, which some call ‘the ultimate horizon in which contemporary politics inscribes itself’. To these scholars, most of whom draw on the thought of Jacques Derrida, such logics open systems up to a future to come. At the same time, they tend to identify such logics with Europe, America, Western modernity, and/or democracy. Implied, and sometimes explicit, in their accounts is the denial of autoimmune logics at work outside such an imagined configuration.

This article challenges that denial through arguing that the system of ‘harmony’, deployed in contemporary China, also works on an autoimmune logic. If autoimmunity opens up a system to the future, this is not only so for European democracy or its derivatives. Moreover, the expulsion of ‘non-Western’ others from accounts of autoimmunity undermines their rethinking of difference by falling back on an immunitary logic, denying China an open future. This exclusion is their condition of possibility. At the same time, this exclusion is what keeps open their promise of its future to come. Paradoxically, the exclusion of the ‘non-West’ is what keeps the idea of an autoimmune ‘Western’ or European democracy alive.

Anarchism does not feature in contemporary international relations (IR) as a discreet approach to world politics because until very recently it was antithetical to the traditional use-value of a discipline largely structured around the needs and intellectual demands of providing for the world's Foreign Offices and State Departments. This article tells part of the story of how this came to be so by revisiting the historiography of the discipline and an early debate between Harold Laski and Hans Morgenthau. What I will show here is that Morgenthau's Schmittian-informed theory of the nation state was diametrically opposed to Laski's Proudhon-informed pluralist state theory. Morgenthau's success and the triumph of Realism structured the subsequent evolution of the discipline. What was to characterise the early stages of this evolution was IR's professional and intellectual statism. The subsequent historiography of the discipline has also played a part in retrospectively keeping anarchism out. This article demonstrates how a return to this early debate and the historiography of the discipline opens up a little more room for anarchism in contemporary IR and suggests further avenues for research.

It seems almost churlish to criticize a book as well-intentioned and clearly argued as The Transformation of Political Community. There is much in the volume to admire and to endorse. But there are also problems—there always are—and I will move to address these shortly. First, however, I want to point to some of the book's undeniable strengths. Perhaps the most refreshing aspect of Linklater's argument is the manner in which he takes on board a number of the perduring vexations of political and moral theory and addresses these within the context of international relations. For too long political theory and ‘IR’ have occupied separate niches, as if these two enterprises had little to do with one another. The result of the separation has been an impoverishment of both realms. ‘IR’ could move along as if questions of war and peace, security, order, power, engagement, citizen and soldier were not inescapably political and ethical issues impossible to deal with adequately in a manner that models sophisticatedly but falls flat conceptually. Too many underlying presuppositions in such undertakings are not brought to the surface and dealt with as is painfully evident in rational choice accounts with their impoverished views of what makes human beings tick.

This article is concerned with the historical trajectory and legacy of British liberal internationalist ideas in the opening three decades of the twentieth century. Despite this body of ideas being a major force behind the establishment of International Relations (IR) in Britain following the Great War, only scant attention is paid to its pre-war configuration. The article attempts to remedy this gap by focusing on internationalist thought prior to and during the war. It is argued that internationalist ideas during the Great War accelerated a drift towards institutional arguments, which are herein distinguished from moral arguments, and that the concept of anarchy played a major role in this shift in internationalist ideas. While the transformation of liberal internationalist ideas during the war constitutes a central backdrop to the early practices of British IR, it should not overshadow the powerful, underlying continuity in ethico-political convictions entertained by internationalists before and after the Great War.

Programs to deploy weapons in orbital space have important implications for international relations.In this paper, we analyze the constitutive logic of three modes of space weaponization currently being pursued by the United States – space-based missile defense, space control, and force application from orbital space.We show that these technologies of killing, when bundled together, constitute a new form of centralized sovereign power in a context of de-territorialized sovereignty.This is a new type of international political society, which we call empire of the future, distinct from and more ominous than the de-centralized form of Empire theorized by Hardt and Negri and the modern expression of classical hegemony now widely debated in discussions of putative American empire.

The concept of solidarity has been used in IR theory with social theoretic connotations, which have remained, by and large, murky and unclear. Below, I argue that the concept of solidarity must be understood together with its normative implications, that these implications matter per se, and that this has yet to be realised in contexts where the concept is used in IR.

To enhance effective cooperation, the Marrakesh Accords provide a compliance system for the international climate regime. An innovative part of this system is an Enforcement Branch authorised to apply punitive consequences against countries that fail to comply with their Kyoto obligations. While previous research has primarily focused on the ability of this compliance system to deter non-compliance, this article discusses whether the actual use of punitive consequences will induce a non-compliant country to return to compliance. The Marrakesh Accords explicitly emphasise that the punitive consequences shall be aimed at the restoration of compliance. However, we show that the application of punitive consequences will accomplish this in only exceptional circumstances.

Scholars debate whether Eurocentric theories of International Relations (IR) offer useful explanations of African international politics. They also debate the applicability of Eurocentric theories of state making for understanding African state making in the post-colonial era. I argue that theories like realism and war-and-state-making appear inconsistent with African political reality because when IR scholars apply these theories to Africa, they study the wrong actors. The ‘right’ actors for understanding these theories include not only the official states IR scholars traditionally analyse, but also all of the autonomous political entities that control territory, possess military resources, and struggle to survive under anarchy. I substantiate my claims about the usefulness and necessity of expanding the roster of actors studied with an historical narrative of the first six years of Congo's independence. During this time six autonomous political entities, in addition to the one official state, warred with each other, allied with each other, and struggled to make states.

In his recent article ‘The State as Person in International Theory’, Alexander Wendt advocates explicitly ‘personifying the state’. In his philosophical argument, he opposes a ‘physicalism’ which would reduce states to their individual members with his own ‘thin version of personhood’ derived from social theory. But this approach, neglecting normative criteria, sets up an opposition between false extremes, as well as being false to the full nature of human beings. It is doubtful whether the state is ever, in practice, the perfect corporate agent of Wendt's prescription, and it would be suspect if it were.

Norman Angell's The Great Illusion, which ran through six versions in London between November 1909 and December 1938, has some claim to have launched International Relations as a self-consciously independent yet sub-consciously liberal discipline. Understood to argue primarily that the interlocking fragility of the international financial system stopped modern states profiting from aggression, its ideas were promoted by a specially created foundation as ‘the science of international politics’ or ‘international polity’. Since the 1970s, moreover, the book has been credited by scholars with pioneering the concepts of interdependence and globalisation. Now, therefore, it is less its seminal qualities than its fundamental flaws that require emphasis. Its celebrated claim about the irenic implications of financial interdependence was widely misunderstood as implying the impossibility, in addition to the disutility, of aggression. And a little-noticed second argument – that political control over territory brought no substantive benefits – was not only implausible but inconsistent with Angell's declared opposition to cuts in arms spending. The Great Illusion's policy recommendations were thus ambiguous, and altered from edition to edition as its author grappled first with the contradiction between pacifist and pro-defence strands in his thinking and then with the changing international situation.

In the summer of 1920 Arnold Toynbee's old friend and contemporary at Balliol, L. B. Namier, a historian of a very different school, brought him a book which had been published 18 months earlier, the first volume of Oswald Spengler's Der Untergang des Abendlandes, The Decline of the West. ‘As read these pages teeming with firefly flashes of historical insight,’ Toynbee recalled some years later, ‘I wondered at first whether my whole enquiry had been disposed of by Spengler before even the questions, not to speak of the answers, had fully taken shape in my own mind.’ He decided nevertheless to go on with his own equally ambitious account of the rise and fall of civilizations. From the start, therefore, Toynbee's vast life-work, the 12 volumes, over three million words, of A Study of History, has been coupled with and compared to the two volumes, a mere 400 thousand words, of Spengler's Decline of the West. Both were best-sellers: the original German edition of The Decline of the West sold 100,000 copies in its first eight years; the abridged edition of A Study of History sold over 300,000 and even the ten volume edition (the two subsequent volumes were an atlas and a volume of second thoughts entitled Reconsiderations) sold 7,000 complete sets within a year of the publication of the final volume. Both are, if not forgotten (Spengler at least turns up in unlikely places, such as President Nixon's desk, placed there by Dr Kissinger) certainly largely unread. Yet each is interesting because of the great gifts of their very different authors and because of what they tell us not just about the past but about the twentieth century and the sense of crisis with which we have lived for the last 70 years.

The concept of society and its cognates have long been widely invoked in order to understand International Relations. Theories of international society distinguish between a society of states and a mere system of states, and theories of world society assume that the world constitutes a single social space. In order to come to terms with the social character of International Relations, constructivists of different stripes have invoked a societal context within which the construction of identities and norms takes place. As I shall argue in this article, these usages draw on conceptions of society that emerged during the early phases of modern sociology, and have then been projected onto alien historical and cultural contexts. In order to avoid the anachronism and Eurocentrism that invariably have resulted from these uncritical usages, I argue that academic International Relations should seek to accommodate those forms of human association that cannot be subsumed under a recognisably modern concept of society by incorporating insights from postcolonial sociology into its theoretical core.

It may be that states are not persons, but there is nothing in Peter Lomas' dismissive critique of my article that would help us decide one way or the other. Lomas never engages the central points of my argument, and does not appear to have read the relevant literature. This is too bad, since Lomas' evident passion about the question of whether states are persons is fully justified. At stake empirically is our ability to explain important patterns in world politics, like balancing or the tendency of states to follow international law, which seem to presuppose state persons. And normatively, state personhood has many politically charged implications, whether limiting the possibilities for individual self-realisation, as emphasised by Lomas, or providing a metaphysical ground for claims of group rights, collective responsibility and guilt, reparations, and the like. So the stakes are high, and having been neglected in IR for so long our current understanding of the issue is preliminary at best. Passion, however, is no substitute for clear thinking, and here Lomas muddies the water considerably. As such I welcome the opportunity to respond. Since Lomas concentrates on my easy case – collective intentionality – I shall do likewise, defending the reality of only that aspect of state personhood, thus bracketing whether states are also super-organisms with collective consciousness.

Diplomats, whose historical reputation in earlier times has so often been unsavoury, have more recently been highly regarded, except perhaps in the immediate aftermath of the First World War, for which catastrophe they were held by some to be to blame. The privations of the Cold War and the occasional severe maltreatments endured in unsettled states have from time to time since 1945 made them heroes. The change of status has, particularly since the nineteenth century, been associated with a rising sense of belonging to a recognizable and separate profession, with its own body of knowledge and skill, for which suitable candidates could be trained. This development was slow in gestation and its first signs cannot be reliably identified until the seventeenth century with the appearance of the first clutch of semi-professional manuals. From that time, a potential semantic confusion has existed arising out of the use of the adjective ‘diplomatic’ sometimes to describe the process of international political argument and its eventual success or failure in reaching agreement, and sometimes to describe the administrative mechanism of diplomacy itself. it was this latter aspect of diplomacy, seen separately from the content of policy, which from the mid nineteenth century began to attract a new kind of attention, driven particularly by international lawyers, to the point where it was beginning to seem desirable to attain a general international agreement as to what were the rules of the game.