Macro-Quantitative Analysis, edited by John V. Gillespie and Betty A. Nesvold, should be welcomed by students of cross-national empirical theory and research. It places important reference materials at the fingertips of the analyst, and should stimulate him to take stock of the state of his art. Moreover, it should prove a boon to teaching. I find it hard to conceive of an undergraduate or graduate course on cross-national theory and research which would not benefit from this volume.

The past decade has witnessed a general advancement in comparative studies of communism. Yet, in comparing the conceptual development of the Soviet-East European and Chinese Communist fields, one is struck by the peculiarly arrested state of the Chinese side. By comparison, the “Kremlinologists” have produced a veritable storehouse of analytical tools with which they have contributed to the explanation of the nature and functioning of the Soviet political process and Soviet-East European interrelationship. Relatively little conceptual development is discernible in the China field. In this brief essay on comparative developments in the study of communism, I will attempt to compare the concepts which Western scholars have evolved to analyze the politics of the Communist world, account for different approaches, and analyze Chinese political history to determine the most meaningful approach. I speak of the nature and functioning of the political process in a restricted sense—the ways in which leaders interact, how political positions are attained and maintained, and, in general, the structure of leadership politics in the Communist world.

Research on Korean communism is clearly subsumed under a new field of inquiry known as “comparative study of communism” or “studies of comparative communism.” Developed in the wake of the Sino-Soviet conflict, the comparative study of communism claims greater conceptual and methodological potency through the use of “value-neutral” models and theories developed in the social and behavioral sciences. The author critically examines the performance of current scholarship on North Korean politics in light of the promise of the comparative study of communism. Specifically, he first identifies key normative, conceptual, and methodological problems that plague the current lines of inquiry in the field. He then probes the areas of substantive strengths, weaknesses, and gaps in our present knowledge about the North Korean political system, focusing on two issues of normative and policy importance to both domestic and foreign policy—legitimacy and chuch'e. The author suggests several alternative methods and approaches for liberating the field from its intellectual isolationism and for charting a path toward a cumulative, orderly, and systematic way of building a body of knowledge about Korean communism.

Ever since the discovery there of gold and diamonds in the last half of the nineteenth century, South Africa has engaged the rapt attention of the Western world. The saga of the Anglo-Boer War of 1899–1902, perhaps the last of the “gentlemen's wars,” and now the refurbished accounts of the gallant defense of Rorke's Drift in the AngloZulu War of 1879 have been fascinating material for both novelists and film scriptwriters. In addition, the history of South Africa is replete with titanic figures who rank with, or perhaps even above, those from the rest of the continent: the aggressive architect of empire, Cecil J. Rhodes; the redoubtable Zulu warrior, Chaka; the dour, stern-willed President of the South African Republic, “Oom” (Uncle) Paul Kruger; the world-renowned statesman and philosopher, Field Marshal Jan C. Smuts; the founding father of Indian independence, Mohandas K. Gandhi; the compassionate and courageous writer, Alan S. Paton; and the dignified, modest Zulu Nobel Laureate, Albert J. Luthuli. By any standard, South Africa and its leaders of all races have made far-reaching and impressive contributions to the continent, the British Empire, and the world at large.

There is at present considerable uncertainty as to the purposes which Canada's foreign assistance program is intended to serve. This uncertainty is no doubt influencing our policies. The question of why we are giving and why we should give in the future is fundamental to practically all aspects of our aid policy—including the size, form, terms, and geographical orientation of our assistance, the choice between bilateral and multilateral channels, the administration of our aid, the public support for our assistance program, and the relations between Canada and the recipient countries.

The outstanding characteristic of the French political system is its historical instability. Constitutional monarchy was overthrown by a revolution, replaced by a republic, which in turn quickly evolved into a dictatorship, and when it too was dismissed by an armed uprising, the interminable squabbles among the monarchist factions allowed another republic to come into existence by default. But for an “accident” of history this republic too would have given way to a dictatorship through the bloodless medium of the coup d'état, but while the republic tottered on in the interwar period the life-span of its governments was calculated in terms of months rather than years, and with its “collapse” under the coup de grâce of military defeat a new dictatorship immediately sprang up to take its place, to be succeeded by another republic lasting for thirteen years amid constantly recurring cabinet crises, then falling in the wake of an eminently successful revolution, out of which emerged the present regime. Here we have what sociologists might label the “institutionalization of instability”, interpreted by a number of leading writers on French politics as the product of a deep-seated conflict between the “two Frances”, whether these two political subcultures are viewed as the parties of mouvement and of I'ordre établi, or as the “administrative and representative traditions.”

LABOR movements in areas of South Asia which are, or were until recently, under the control of British, French, or Dutch administrations have assumed considerable political, social, and economic importance despite the fact that industrialization and wage employment affect only a small segment of the population. As adjuncts of national movements they played a significant role in the struggle for independence; they have served the interests of the Communists and other dissident revolutionary groups; and they have participated in the tasks of economic reconstruction. In some areas, moreover, these labor organizations have exceeded in size not only existing political parties, but also other movementsbuilt on common occupational interests, such as peasant organizations. As a result, they have become afocal point for extra-parliamentary political activities.1 Their importance in most South Asian countries is all the more surprising, considering that they are purely Western institutions characteristic of highly industrialized and occupationally stratified societies. Yet in South Asia these movements are thriving in predominantly agricultural societies, with an occupational stratification bearing little resemblance to that of industrialized countries.

The concepts of triangular structure and pattern of relations are useful in understanding conflict in U.S.-China relations, particularly over Taiwan, and in explaining the context in which Chinese domestic politics influences the P.R.C.'s policy toward the United States. Through their influence on relative bargaining strengths, shifting patterns of relations have determined Beijing's readiness either to push for change in U.S.-Taiwan relations or to accept the status quo until China's bargaining position improves. The pace of policy change within a particular pattern of relations has been influenced by the P.R.C.'s domestic politics, which has also compelled the leaders to protect their domestic position by issuing statements aimed at the domestic audience.

The Communist camp is composed of twelve states: the Soviet Union, China, Poland, Czechoslovakia, East Germany, Rumania, Hungary, Bulgaria, North Korea, North Vietnam, Albania, Mongolia. Jointly, the Communist-ruled states account for about 38 per cent of the world's population, 24.2 per cent of the world's area, and approximately one-third of the world's industrial output. During Stalin's lifetime the Communist bloc operated essentially through a relatively simple subordination of the various units to the dictator's will, generally expressed by indirect methods of police and party control. This somewhat informal organization reflected in part the old dictator's specific political style; in part it was a function of the relatively immature stage of the bloc's development. As a result, the “maturation” of the bloc coincided with the difficult post-Stalin period of transition within the USSR and was marked by major upheavals and tensions. By 1958-1959, however, the crisis had subsided, and a new and more complex image of the bloc became apparent. While the Soviet Union continued to exercise leadership, acknowledged at the November 1957 conference of the Communist parties and buttressed by Soviet international and technological prestige, the camp had developed more elaborate mechanisms and processes of cohesion that also contributed to its unity. Some of them dated back to the Stalinist days, but were now infused with new vitality. Others emerged during the post-Stalin phase.

The field of the comparative study of political party systems has been particularly fortunate to have been the focus of quite a number of substantial scholarly team efforts in recent years. Individual case studies are still appearing that follow Robert A. Dahl's model of the “patterns of opposition.” Terms such as “crisis of participation” or Sartori's “extreme pluralism,” from the book edited by Joseph La Palombara and Myron Weiner,2 are widely used in the description of party systems. Even the study of one-party systems and of national integration in developing areas is beginning to settle down to a common terminology that will increasingly allow comparison with the better-explored systems.

Several recent studies of Soviet foreign policy formation have sought to bring oganizational and cognitive considerations to bear on the subject. The article evaluation these perspectives and suggests how future research may, through the use of cognit methods of analysis, distinguish formally between different conceptualizations of viet foreign policy formation, thus permitting a more rigorous empirical examination of the organizational issues involved. A model of inference that accounts for organiational and cognitive links between the Soviet press and Soviet foreign policy formation is also constructed; examples are drawn from the items under review. In conclusion the article outlines a research strategy for cumulating knowledge about how the Sov system works, and specifies what the organizational and cognitive frameworks the study of Soviet foreign policy formation may contribute to such a project.

Both our idealists and our realists conceive patterns which are too logical for the tortuous course of human history. They both persist in confronting us with two horns of a dilemma and beg us to choose between them. All idealistic schemes of world peace insist that we must either achieve world government or resign ourselves to an inevitable war; we must find some way of reaching an understanding with the Russians or face the consequences of a world war. Our realists are convinced that neither world government nor a pragmatic understanding with the Russians is an attainable goal. They are therefore tempted to grasp the second horn of the dilemma. They accept the fact of an inevitable war. From the idea of an inevitable war it is only a short logical step to the concept of a preventive war. For if we must inevitably fight the Russians, why should we not have the right to choose the most opportune time for joining the issue?

The following reflections have been occasioned by the Twenty-second Congress of the Communist Party of the USSR. Their purpose is to try to grasp the nature and to gauge the extent of the change between the Russia of today and that of Stalin's time. Naturally, no more can be done within the scope of a brief paper than to indicate some of the areas that may be relevant in this connection and to arrive at some provisional conclusions. In looking for those areas, various curiosities and incongruities of the Moscow Congress may serve as guiding beacons.

Ever since the invention of the steam engine in the eighteenth century, men have reflected upon the profound transformations being wrought in their societies by what soon came to be called the Industrial Revolution. In their own fields, historians, economists, sociologists, military specialists, and Marxist philosophers have all traced the effects of industrialization, and some of them—particularly those interested in and aroused by war—have perceived the implications of these changes for international relations. Priority in this respect seems to belong to Auguste Comte, the founder of modern sociology, for devising the first analytical-historical model of the industrial society—one moreover that explicitly, though not always convincingly, pointed to the international repercussions of industrialism. In an essay first published in 1822, Comte drew a distinction betwelen two types (or models) of civilization: the Theological and Military, and the Scientific and Industrial (there also was a third, transitional—as he called it, “mongrel””type, the Metaphysical and Juridical). Comte's first model is notable for the predominance of military activities: “Society makes conquest its one permanent aim.” War makes it possible to found larger societies. In the transitional stage, he observed, “The two aims of activity, conquest and production, advance pari passu. Industry is at first favoured and protected as a military resource. Later its importance augments, and finally war is regarded and systematically pursued as a means of favouring industry.” But, in the last model, “industry has become predominant. All the special relations have gradually established themselves upon industrial bases. Society, taken collectively, tends to organize itself in the same manner,” renounces conquest and war, and makes production “its only and constant aim.”

How do military ideas, and military doctrines in particular, spread through the international system? This article extends extant work on military diffusion by exploring why some states, after deciding to adopt another's innovative warfighting system, fail to implement it. The author argues that for states to successfully implement a military doctrine developed abroad, much information about the unobservable aspects of the warfighting system is needed. States vary in their capacity to acquire the necessary knowledge because they face differing levels of resistance to military diffusion within their armed forces. Powerful groups within the military that are opposed to such adoptions are likely to use their influence to press for policies and bureaucratic maneuvers that constrain information flows between innovating states and their own state and consequently inhibit implementation and diffusion of military doctrines. Therefore successful implementation of foreign military doctrines can be expected when states face minimal resistance within their militaries, and moderated or failed implementation can be expected when opposition is more significant. A provisional test of the argument is conducted through an assessment of Argentina, Brazil, and Chile's attempts to implement the German military doctrine at the turn of the twentieth century.

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.

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.