As it has been written, the history of humanitarian intervention is all too Whiggish and all too white. By conceptualising humanitarian intervention in the way that they do, orthodox histories should be seen as entangled in debates about the origins of human rights but also, perhaps more crucially, debates about the various formations and reinventions of human rights. Alternative codifications of rights reveal the historical possibility of a Southern practice of what we would almost certainly call ‘humanitarian intervention’. The record of a radical Third World practice to save strangers from the atrocities of colonialism and extreme racism is also a record of Western states playing staunchly sovereigntist roles, of the West's late devotion to Westphalia. To sketch out such a counterhistory is to argue the following: at a threshold moment in the international-political life of the Responsibility to Protect, it is the terms, range, and domain of the intervention debate that must be re-formulated and re-evaluated.

The Final Act of Congress of Vienna was signed on June 9, 1815. More accurately, because of Napoleon's escape and the consequent battle of Waterloo, the Vienna settlement was completed with the signature of the second Treaty of Paris on November 20s 1815. There is thus no doubt that last year marks the 170th anniversary of the settlement. There is equally no doubt that in many ways 1815 has come to seem very remote. There are no great historical arguments in progress about it, nor does it seem to attract any great interest from the students of international relations, unless their attention is actually drawn to it. So it may be as well to remember that the Vienna settlement has generated much more substantial debate at other times. Very soon after its making, it began to be said that the settlement represented a failed attempt to control, at worst, or suppress, at best, the two doctrines that were to be the political foundation of the 19th century: liberalism and nationalism. By the end of the century this attitude had intensified. In any case, the immense social and political changes which were moulding the modern state structure were beginning to create a new kind of international environment in which the ‘unspoken’ as well as deliberate assumptions of 1815 were less relevant. Approved or not, in practical terms, the settlement remained as a basis for the conduct of international politics until 1914, and thus was the obvious point of departure for discussion about the new settlement which would have to be made when the First World War ended. It is not surprising therefore to find that part of the British preparation for the Paris Peace Conference, which were made by the Political Intelligence Department of the Foreign Office, was a study of the Congress of Vienna by C. K. Webster. It is a somewhat routine piece, and his treatment of the subject was much better based and wider ranging in his monumental study of British foreign policy under Lord Castlereagh. It contained, however, one conclusion which may have had an important effect on the way in which the 1919 settlement was arrived at. Webster said that it had been an error on the part of the allies to have permitted the French to be present at Vienna because of the successful attempt by Talleyrand to insert France into the discussions of the other great powers. It has of course been subsequently felt that one of the cardinal respects in which Vienna was more, sensible than Versailles was precisely in that the French were included and became in effect joint guarantors of the agreement. Whether anything fundamental would have been different had the same been done for the Weimar republic is open to question, but there can be no doubt that the circumstances at the time and afterwards would have been greatly easier had the agenda of post-war international politics not had to include the status of Germany as a first item.

Over the past decade, there have been increased attempts to understand the contributing factors to the relationship between healthy populations (that is, populations that have long life expectancy from birth), the prevention of conflict, and governance regimes that enable ‘healthy nations’ to survive and thrive. These studies have been largely informed by longitudinal studies on the positive relationship between regime type, provision of health care, and conflict prevention. This article examines what insights a comparison of postconflict countries in a regional setting may provide to challenge or indeed extend the findings advanced so far in the literature on the relationship between regime type and health insecurity. The Southeast Asian experience confirms the obvious – that the cessation of armed conflict is related to improved health outcomes. However, it challenges presumptions that democratisation plays a significant role in shaping this relationship.

I would like to thank the editors for giving me the opportunity to respond to some of the criticisms raised in the forum on Critical Realism, or what is sometimes known as scientific realism (CR/SR). In this short response I shall attempt to correct some of the misunderstandings of Critical Realism in the forum, but also highlight a fundamental philosophical disagreement that has important political consequences.

As a specialist in international politics, I have always believed that my primary business is to study states, those important political, legal and administrative units into which the world is divided. That preoccupation is not, of course, limited to my professional clan. All of political science, whether or not it is formally held to include international politics as a sub-discipline, focuses on the state, although it necessarily deals with other kinds of entity as well. Our academic brethren in such fields as history, economics and sociology also pay quite a lot of attention to the state. For that matter, no human being in today's world can escape the profound influence of the state, even though he may study nothing at all.

Seeing as colonialism is ubiquitous to where International Relations (IR) comes from, what it explains and who it represents, many have argued that the decolonisation of the discipline is impossible. However, in this agenda-setting introduction, I place decolonisation squarely in the realm of possibility and ask, ‘what would a decolonised field look like?’. In answering this question, the contributions in this forum take point of departure from varied sites within the discipline, as they seek to materialise real change that reimagines what IR is and does as a discipline that was established as a scholarly defence for colonialism. Herein they propose decolonisation as a structure that upends the discipline’s colonial epistemological roots, rethinks core concepts and underlines the need to forefront geographies, peoples, and perspectives that were underrepresented in a colonial discipline. Equally, they recognise that decolonisation is a messy affair, that takes a non-linear trajectory. However, seeing as colonialism did not just inflict material impoverishment but also sought to alienate the colonised from their sense of self, this messiness is only expected. So, rather than be discouraged by this, this forum views the non-linear trajectory to be an unavoidable facet of any attempt at decolonising the discipline.

Human rights violations by international organisations (IOs) are a possible side effect of their growing authority. Recent examples are the cases of sexual exploitation by UN peacekeepers and violations caused by IMF austerity measures. In response, IOs increasingly develop safeguards to protect human rights from being violated through their policies to regain legitimacy. We argue that this development can be accounted for by a mechanism we call ‘authority-legitimation mechanism’. We test this theoretical expectation against ten case studies on UN and EU sanctions policies, UN and NATO peacekeeping and World Bank and IMF lending. Next, we demonstrate inductively that the authority-legitimation mechanism can evolve through different pathways, depending on which actors get engaged. We label these pathways legislative institution-building if parliaments in member states put pressure on their governments to campaign for human rights safeguards in IOs, judicial institution-building if courts demand human rights safeguards, like-minded institution-building if civil society organisations, middle powers and IO bodies with little formal power push for human rights safeguards, or anticipatory institution-building if IOs adopt such safeguards from other IOs without having violated human rights themselves. Finally, we argue that which of these pathways are activated and how effective they are depends on specific conditions.

This article examines Tony Blair’s policy and posture on Iraq through the prism of the special relationship in which he was reared. At the same time, it examines his policy and posture on the special relationship through the prism of Iraq. In this context it proposes a Vietnam analogy of a kind, with reference to Blair’s white-hot predecessor Harold Wilson: a curious affinity of fate – disenchantment, disgrace, and moral ruination.

This article investigates how – by breaking with the historical double standards regarding civilian protection in conflicts – by the end of the twentieth century, US warfare has come to comply with International Humanitarian Law (IHL). Yet, civilians are still being killed. This has sparked controversies over what constitutes legitimate targeting practices and as to whether higher levels of civilian protection could be achieved. Through an engagement with these debates, including an exploration of the evolution of the norm of non-combatant immunity with specific reference to US warfare, the article argues that IHL does not provide fully satisfactory answers to these issues as it is too permissive in relation to the killing of civilians. The article proposes that more stringent moral guidelines, such as those underpinning the idea of ‘due care’, have the potential to go much further in providing protection for the innocent in war.

The last decade has witnessed an attempt to solidify debate on war around the dichotomy of just war and holy war. In this dichotomy, the just war has increasingly been depicted as the progressive secularised opposite to holy war's antiquated religious fundamentalism. While wars argued for under the just war banner have been extensively critiqued and protested against, the rights based language of just war theory has largely escaped critical evaluation. Michael Walzer has emerged as a pivotal figure in just war theory's modern, secular rebirth within the discipline of International Relations. Walzer's theory argues the language of just war theory provides an effective means for us to engage with the moral reality of war. Drawing upon the work of Jacques Derrida this article investigates the construction of Walzer's moral language and its ethical implications. The first section focuses on Walzer's moral language; its structure, inconsistencies, and theological underpinnings. The second section addresses how Walzer employs this language to justify the sacrifice of combatants in defence of non-combatants. The central arguments presented in this article are that Walzer's theory is inconsistent in itself, and that the sacrifices initiated by this language constitute the unjustified sacrifice of just war theory's own ethical principles.

The article posits that in global politics, and in the scholarly subfield of international ethics, we should begin moving away from intentions and intentionality when considering accountability. Intentionality is problematic in at least three respects – analytically it is hard to determine; normatively it is difficult because we must invest our trust in authority; and it comes coupled with the problematic relationship between means and ends. This article explores these issues through three sections. First, it engages some of the purposes but also overall problems with ‘intentions’ in world politics (and especially the debate as it has progressed in the field of international ethics). The second section reviews recent theses on accountability, before moving towards an alternative aspect of accountability which already exists in world politics, termed in this article ‘the accountability of the scar’. This last form of accountability refers to the physical damage produced by violence, with reference to three domains – the anthrobiological, the architectural, and the agentic sphere. Two examples of the scar come to us from the different context of the Emmett Till case of 1955 and the more fluid, and recent case of Iranian protestor Neda Agha-Soltan.

Martin Wight once asked why the balance of power ‘has inspired no great political writer to analysis and reflection’?

Looking back in 1923, Winston Churchill wrote:

One rises from the study of the causes of the Great War with a prevailing sense of the defective control of individuals upon world fortunes. It has been well said, ‘there is always more error than design in human affairs’. The limited minds even of the ablest men, their disputed authority, the climate of opinion in which they dwell, their transient and partial contributions to the mighty problem, that problem itself so far beyond their compass, so vast in scale and detail, so changing in its aspect—all this must surely be considered before the complete condemnation of the vanquished or the complete acquittal of the victors can be pronounced.

Extant studies suggest that criticism of state practices may create ontological crises in states, thus prompting emotional responses. This article examines what happens when target states reject external criticism, and the failure of outside attempts to shame and criticise. We show that recipients can view international criticism as opportunities to consolidate state identity rather than ontological crises. Using Turkey’s foreign policy towards Israel, we focus on the agency of weak states by expanding the range of emotions stemming from non-acceptance of criticism and by emphasising the role of leaders when crafting emotional responses to negative representations.

Of the family of war conferences the Atlantic meeting between Roosevelt and Churchill in August 1941, has been a neglected relation. It has been covered in general histories but only one substantial account of the conference has appeared to date. This state of affairs is regrettable given the intrinsic importance of some of the issues which were raised at Argentia and the fact that T. A. Wilson's account, The First Summit, was written before some of the official records were released. However, though there is a need for an overall review of the conference, this paper has the modest goal of reconsidering the economic questions which resulted in point four of the Atlantic Charter. The reasons for a new account of the genesis and formulation of the main economic provisions of the joint declaration are three-fold. First, the context of economic discussions in which the conference took place has never been adequately described; consequently the reasoning behind certain decisions, as well as some of the nuances of the talks, have been misunderstood. Secondly, the injudicious character of Welles' proposals for point four and the nature of America's diplomatic defeat at the hands of the British have never been properly explained. Finally, it has not previously been detected that Churchill evaded full consultation with his Cabinet and ignored some of their advice which, ironically, resulted in a less serious set-back for American economic goals than would otherwise have been the case.

The end of the Cold War was an event of great significance in human history, the consequences of which demand to be glossed in broad terms rather than reduced to a meaningless series of events. Neorealist writers on international relations would disagree; most such see the end of the Cold War in terms of the collapse of a bipolar balance of power system and its (temporary) replacement by the hegemony of the winning state, which in turn will be replaced by a new balance. There is obviously a story to be told here, they would argue, but not a new kind of story, nor a particularly momentous one. Such shifts in the distribution of power are a matter of business as usual for the international system. The end of the Cold War was a blip on the chart of modern history and analysts of international politics (educated in the latest techniques of quantitative and qualitative analysis in the social sciences) ought, from this perspective, to be unwilling to draw general conclusions on the basis of a few, albeit quite unusual, events. Such modesty is, as a rule, wise, but on this occasion it is misplaced. The Cold War was not simply a convenient shorthand for conflict between two superpowers, as the neorealists would have it. Rather it encompassed deep-seated divisions about the organization and content of political, economic and social life at all levels.

Theory, politics, and the Cold War

In this review I examine academic study on Russian foreign policy since the end of the Cold War, with special emphasis on relations with the United States. It is common, when discussing the study of international politics during the Cold War, to refer to the ‘dominance’, or ‘hegemony’, of Realism, and then to argue that the unanticipated end of the ‘bipolar’ conflict demonstrates the failure of the theory for not having been able, due to its focus on structural features of material power, to foresee its peaceful conclusion. Although there is much wrong with Realism as a theory in explaining international politics at this time, it should be noted that there were other contending approaches that also got the Cold War wrong. Similarly, those specialists writing on Soviet foreign policy who shared realist assumptions, and hence constructed their analytical frameworks on the basis of geopolitics and the pursuit of the national interest, were also unable to conceive of an end to the bipolar conflict. Others, who did perceive change on the basis of alterations in the relative power capabilities between the two major powers, predicted that this would lead not to a peaceful resolution of the Cold War, but to violent conflict. This was the view of Edward Luttwak, who suggested in 1983 that the weakness of the Soviet economy would lead to declining faith in the political regime and ultimately to a greater willingness to engage in military adventures.

A common theme of all the books under review is the neglect of change by scholars in the social sciences generally, and especially in the study of international relations. A number of reasons are offered in explanation of this. One is that change is hard whereas continuity is comparatively easy. What stays the same over time is simpler to map than that which changes. In any young science static comes before dynamic analysis. (Gilpin, p. 4) Another reason for the neglect of change is the dead weight of tradition. The argument in the volume is that established theoretical approaches to the field have over-emphasized continuity at the expense of change.' (Buzan and Jones, p. 2; see also Holsti et al., p. xvii) A third reason is the decline in grand theory. (Gilpin, p. 4) We are reluctant to ask big questions about society any more and are concentrating on small and middle-sized ones. Fourthly, of course, there is the now well-known western bias in the study of international relations, and a parochialism which allows no purchase on the non-western systems whose study would be important for a theory of international political change. (Gilpin, p. 5) A fifth reason for the failure to do justice to change is anti-intellectualism. The search for laws of change is futile because of the uniqueness, and complexity of historical events. (Gilpin, pp. 4–5) No order can be imposed on the empire of circumstance. Finally, there is the idea that the conservatism of the western practitioner of political science conditions his or her treatment of the subject. (Gilpin, pp. 6–7) A preference for stability, or for, at most, orderly social change, makes it difficult to give a proper account of the radical change that would make the life of the observer uncomfortable. It is not surprising, says Chris Farrands, that one looks in vain to conservative thinkers for ‘an account, still less a theory, of international social change’. (Buzan and Jones, p. 87)

Towards the end of the First World War, when allied leaders were considering the future structure of what was to become the League of Nations, Jan Christian Smuts of South Africa wrote:

The animosities and rivalries among the independent Balkan States in the past, which kept that pot boiling, and occasionally boiling over, will serve to remind us that there is the risk of a similar state of affairs on a much larger scale in the New Europe, covered as it will be with small independent States. In the past the Empires kept the peace among the rival nationalities; the League will have to keep the peace among the new States formed from these nationalities. This will impose a task of constant and vigilant supervision on it.

Forest ecosystems are crucial to survival on Earth. This article argues that trees and forests are both vital components of a healthy Earth system and productive examples for expanding International Relations’ disciplinary boundaries. The article discusses the forest in three contexts: the global, the (post)colonial, and from the tree itself. From tree planting as a practice of social and environmental justice, to postcolonial and Indigenous science and knowledge, to the mycorrhizal ‘wood wide web’, a focus on trees, forests, and biosphere opens the possibility for a multispecies IR. Through a consideration of trees and forests in law, treaty, culture, and science at the local and global level, this article adds to a growing literature in IR that strives to bring the non-human, more-than-human, or other-than-human creatively and productively into the discipline. Foregrounding the forest's materiality and trees’ symbolic power for human cultures opens important pathways to understanding how the non-human is, and should, alter and affect global politics.

Scholars interested in international relations theory and history are indebted to Mark Kramer for his splendid review of new historical evidence on the role of ideas and power during the Cold War. I agree with Kramer that new evidence by itself never settles learned debates such as the one he reviews. However, the sharper the debate, the bigger the potential payoff from fresh evidence. Toward that end, I have three comments.