A Major obstacle to analysis of Communist movements is the, absence of firsthand evidence on attitudes and motivations affecting tension and cohesion. The refusal of four thousand members of the Chinese Communist Party and the Chinese Communist Youth Corps to return to the mainland after the Korean War offered an unusually large and representative cross-section of these two organizations for systematic interrogation. The results of such an interrogation conducted by the author in April 1954, while in no way conclusive, provide suggestive statistical and analytical information concerning the composition and motivations of the post-Yenan Chinese Communist.

According to official Communist figures, the Chinese Communist Party numbered approximately three million in December 1948 and more than five million in June 1950. This increase of two million members in eighteen months represents the most rapid expansion of Party rolls in the history of the Chinese Communist movement. It occurred after victory was in sight, but before rigorous measures to consolidate control erupted in the “Three Anti” and “Five Anti” movements of 1951. Those who joined the Party during this period form a group strikingly different from the elite of the Chinese Communist movement, which is composed of devoted revolutionaries trained in the rigorous experiences of the Long March and the wartime days of Yenan.

A great deal has been written about the political system of the Republic of South Africa. The ethnic, linguistic and racial differences of its population, the complex and convoluted history of its political antecedents, the strength and productivity of its economy, its strategic location (both in terms of geography and transaction flows), the inequities of its social and political system, and above all, the seeming uncertainty of its future have fascinated observers of its past and present. The volume of material is impressive; however, because many of the works dealing with South Africa are highly personal or partisan in character or essentially descriptive in nature, they are generally of only marginal or transitory importance to any fundamental understanding of its political system. Moreover, there remain substantial blank spots on our cognitive map of South Africa, and many of the more critical aspects of its situation have been ignored or given the most superficial of treatments.

A Feature of Western ideology, particularly its American variant, is consciousness of tension between ideals and reality. One source of this tension is a propensity to seek social goals by way of adventitious motives. Education seeks marks not knowledge; business seeks profits not products; politics seeks power not the good life. To protest this lack of what Max Weber called substantive rationality, and to demand that first things be put first is labelled “idealism,” while acceptance of the immediate incentive and disregard for the final end is labelled “realism.”

Thus in political science the name “realistic” has been largely applied to that tradition which concentrates on power relations and assumes that its subjects behave as “political men,” that is, that they strive to maximize power. The “realist” assumes that all men in politics share the same drive. So deeply ingrained is this identification of politics and power that it appears even in the unconscious where the state is a father symbol. It appears also in everyday idioms where to be in the government is “to be in power” and to go into politics means not to pave streets but to enter a game of hierarchical advancement. It appears also in scholarly thought. Unlike Aristotle, who defined the polis as that association formed for the highest good and which comprehends the rest, most modern scholars find in a monopoly of coercion the distinctive attribute of the state.

Until recently it has been taken more or less for granted by many students of the subject that totalitarian polities will not in the long run tolerate any form of pluralism in their power structure. Lucid and convincing arguments have been constructed to support this contention, in studies of the several historical manifestations of totalitarianism. Implicit in these speculations was the more general view that it is in the very nature of power, and especially political power, that it will not gladly suffer any rivals. In the West the very virtues of democracy have been defended precisely on the grounds that democracy tends through its procedural commitments to diffuse power, to counteract, as it were, the inherent tendency of power toward infinite selfaggrandizement.

The authors of the two volumes under review present different approaches to an analysis of the foreign policy of the People's Republic of China. Gurtov and Hwang stress the importance of national interest and the interaction of domestic factors and foreign policy; they make a connection between China's sensitivity to external threat and its reaction to it, especially at times of domestic political weakness. Armstrong asserts that ideology has played a major role in Chinese foreign policy making. In both volumes, case studies are cited to support the authors' hypotheses. The article concludes that national interest is the principal factor determining the foreign policy of the PRC. Mao Zedong's thought continues to play an important role in Chinese thinking; it is concerned with domestic economic and social change and not with the internal affairs of other countries.

The national malaise over Vietnam has had many spillovers. Among them can be counted a shelf of works on the militaryindustrial complex and the role of the military establishment in American policy-making. Much of this material should never have been written; it is uninformed, naive, biased, and even nonsensical. Several recent contributions to the debate have attempted to raise the level of discussion by considering the defense problem as a matter of allocative theory and decision. Each of these books will be widely regarded as an authoritative pronouncement on the causes and cures of America's defense dilemmas. They have been written by distinguished scholars or former policy-makers whose reputations in their fields are excellent.

An epigram coined under the Third Republic presents the political Frenchman as torn between the claims of his heart on the Left and of his pocketbook on the Right. At a time when a nationalistic policy in Algeria draws heavily on all pocketbooks this idea seems out of date: today a good section of the French public is trying to reconcile accepted attitudes with a new policy, and the old phraseology of the Left conceals less and less successfully an ideology of the Right. The trend is strengthened by transfusions of new blood from a colonial domain lost or endangered in the last few years; that is, by the arrival in metropolitan France of tens of thousands of politically active and actively resentful citizens from Indo-China, Morocco, Tunisia, impenitently expressing their disrespect for democratic values, their wartime sympathies for Pétain and Vichy, and their contempt for the traditional language of political conformity.

In a framework for analyzing more deeply and comprehensively the question of leadership in the Soviet political system, the roles and functions of the top leader within the collective leadership are considered; so is the problematic relationship of the leadership to the party elite and other functional elites in adopting and implementing major policies calculated to modernize (make more efficient) the operation of highly bureaucratized administrative structures. There is a reciprocal impact of these issues upon public attitudes and motivations as both are perceived by the leadership. Incorporated in the framework are a number of basic analytical concepts from a variety of literatures. The conflict between the requisites of modernization and the imperatives of the political culture is discussed, and matters for the research agenda are noted.

The Soviet-American strategic arms limitation discussions and agreements have been widely welcomed not only as important steps toward tighter arms control but as a symbol of die entire process of East-West détente. For die first time since 1945, the two superpowers have shown themselves willing to put agreed limitations on their central strategic armaments. The SALT I talks imposed rough numerical ceilings on deployment. One of die major difficulties in the attempt to extend these limitations in SALT II is die formulation of qualitative restraints. Each side is under pressure to create improved weapons systems. Each is concerned lest the odier should achieve a breakthrough which would render its own systems ineffectual. Each needs to hedge against the possibility that the other might design around any particular set of arms control arrangements. In this paper I will examine die desire for innovation and die difficulties of control, and suggest a general framework within which the question of limitations might be further examined. In the first part, I will discuss the meaning of innovation and the ways in which it is organized and promoted. In die second, the reasons are examined why the two great powers seek advantages over each other in the area of R & D. Finally, I will look at some of the difficulties of achieving restraint by agreement and under verifiable conditions.

WITHIN the past year, the Italian government has revealed a ten-year program, known as the Vanoni Plan, for the development of the Italian economy. By the investment of $56 billion, the government hopes to conquer the problem of chronic unemployment and to revitalize the laggard southern regionof the country. The plan is a bold and imaginative one, replete with government controls, and probably too optimistic. Nonetheless, it has forcefully drawn international attention to Italy's basic economic problems. Hence it is opportune to examine those problems against the perspective of what has been attained by the Italian economy in the past ten years.

Compared with northwest Europe, Italy has always been economically poor. Capital is much scarcer and the endowment of natural resources is much less favorable. Deposits of coal and metallic minerals are negligible or lacking, though natural gas production is growing and petroleum has recently been discovered. Arable land is poor in average quality. Only 1.78 hectares areavailable per person engaged in agriculture, one-third less than in France, while total arableland is one-quarter below France although the population of Italy is 10 per cent larger (47.1 million in 1951).

Biographical analysis has been a traditional device by which historians and social scientists have sought to relate changes in social structure to political developments. All too often, the richness of personal detail has been hung on a “great man” theory of history, without regard to the key leadership groups involved.

In June 1952 a Social Science Research Council committee was established to take stock o? research on civil-military relations and make proposals with respect to the further development of research in this area. The members of the committee were not entirely satisfied with the phrase “civil-military relations” as describing the focus of their attention, but it was understood that the committee's interest lay in research bearing upon those problems of public policy which were posed by the prospect of a continuing high mobilization even in peace time, and by the continuing necessity for a careful coordination of military, diplomatic, and industrialization policy.

In June 1957, when he sent this book to the publisher, Max Lerner must have been very tired. The jacket blurb says the preparation took more than twelve years, and this strikes one who has been working at the book for eight months as probably an understatement. As nearly as a lone individual can do, Lerner seems to have read almost everything about the United States. The “Notes for Further Reading” alone occupy 43 pages of small type. Portions of the manuscript were checked by no less than 142 “experts”: historians, government officials, musicians, journalists, social scientists, poets, architects, foundation officers, and others.

Machiavelli begins his Discourses by observing that “the curious nature of men, so prompt to blame and so slow to praise, makes the discovery and introduction of any new principles and systems as dangerous almost as the exploration of unknown seas and continents.” The Political Foundations of International Law runs this hazard, as it is both a splendid pioneering venture and vulnerable to all sorts of criticism. Although it most suggestively studies the theoretical interaction of law and politics, it provides scant doctrinal support. Although it brilliantly applies systems analysis and prudently uses decision-making theory, structural functional approaches, institutional studies, and a subtle form of historicism, it flirts outrageously with the relevance of game theory to the role of law in international affairs. Although it advances its views of international jurisdiction with unprecedented sophistication, it resorts to amateurish simplification when it discusses the United Nations Charter or the major European regional organizations. In sum, Political Foundations is at once profoundly provocative and frustratingly unrealized. However, its achievements are so much greater than its defects that it warrants high praise and mild rebuke.

There is a widespread view in the West that Soviet strategic doctrine has not changed much since the early 1960s, and still concentrates on fighting and winning an all-out nuclear war. The Soviets are said to be reluctant to recognize thresholds, and therefore have no limited nuclear options, much less a true conventional war-fighting option. To the extent they do have a conventional option, it is contingent on surprise and a two-week blitzkrieg; if the war is not won quickly, they will have to escalate.

On June 15, 1964, the United Nations Conference on Trade and Development adopted its Final Act. General Principle 10 of this Act contains the following recommendation: “Regional economic groupings, integration or other forms of economic co-operation should be promoted among developing countries as a means of expanding their intra-regional and extra-regional trade and encouraging their economic growth and their industrial and agricultural diversification."1 The Act expresses the discontent of the developing nations with the existing state of affairs and their readiness to experiment with new forms of regional economic cooperation.

The term “New Left” designates a state of mind—the desire to do away with the division and impotence of the old Left—rather than a definite sector of the political spectrum. It has, in fact, been used in three different contexts. In its most specific sense, it has meant the Nouvelle Gauche behind Claude Bourdet and his neutralist weekly, France-Observateur. In its broadest sense, it includes all the rebels at the Left, from the reformist followers of Mendès-France to non-Communist revolutionary Marxists. Finally, the term can designate—and this is how it is used here—the groups that occupy the no-man's-land between the Socialists and the Communists.

There is a feeling abroad today that Western civilization is on trial before history. One of the clearest signs of it is the increasing frequency with which we hear the word “challenge” in connection with the policies and progress of Soviet Russia and the Communist world at large. The challenge of the sputniks, of Soviet science and education, of Soviet economic development—these phrases, and variations on them, have recently grown all too familiar in America and Europe. We realize, of course, that the situation is not wholly a dark one for the West, that our Communist adversaries have serious internal problems of their own to contend with, that they too face some challenges. Still, nowadays few in the West find grounds for complacency in that fact.

These three volumes form a curious mind-full. Two concentrate on whence we come. The third concentrates on whither we are going. Mr. Ardrey and Professor Lorenz dwell on the implications for our present and our future of the earlier other animal forms that we continue. Mr. Kahn and Mr. Wiener are concerned almost exclusively with the kind of animals we are going to be. Even the first two volumes make less of the constancy of man as an animal than we might expect.