The Liberal Moment: Modernity, Security, and the Making of Postwar International Order, by Robert Latham

4. "The Requirements of Freedom"Containment, Integration, and Western Militarization

In the spring of 1950, the authors of the famed U.S. policy document, NSC-68, argued for a substantial military build-up in the West and claimed:

A comprehensive and decisive program to win the peace. . . . would probably involve . . . [a] substantial increase in expenditures for military purposes. . . . [a] substantial increase in military assistance programs, designed to foster cooperative efforts. . . . [d]evelopment of programs designed to build and maintain confidence among other peoples in our strength and resolution, and to wage overt psychological warfare. . . . [i]ntensification of affirmative and timely measures and operations by covert means. . . . [d]evelopment of internal security and civilian defense programs. . . . [and r]education of Federal expenditures for purposes other than defense and foreign assistance. ₁

As the decade wore on, the U.S. and its European allies assembled the most formidable array of "peacetime" military power and constructed the most extensive system of strategic-military relations in history. The international relations of the Atlantic states-and the "free world" more generally-were successfully militarized along the lines described in NSC-68.

The task of this chapter is to trace the uneven path leading toward this militarization and to identify the ways that the liberal order-construction process shaped and propelled it. It is a path that was simultaneously distinct from, yet related to, that which led to the Cold War, traced in the previous chapter. At its heart is the strategy of containment. Its qualities of flexibility, openness, and universality, I will argue, made it an international liberal political form par excellence. As it turned out, these qualities undermined rather than facilitated the application of less militarized approaches to order-building and security. But that outcome cannot be understood without also recognizing the other element lying at the heart of that path: the same play between failure and liberal order-building highlighted at the conclusion of the last chapter. Policymakers looked to military solutions to overcome perceived or anticipated failures, especially in pursuit of order and strength in an international environment where there was relatively little. Military solutions were applied to two problems: building institutions whose political and social scope and presence would be minimal and temporary, and transcending the West's own fear of failure.

Economic Security as the Liberal Strategic Weapon of Choice

Despite its association with the increasing salience of strategic concerns, the hard line that was emerging in the Truman administration in 1946 did not represent a militarization of American foreign policy or of relations with Western Europe. Rather, the growing confrontation between the U.S. and the Soviet Union, described in chapter 3, reflected the dynamics associated with the process of Soviet externalization. Although externalization may have been marked by the narrowing of relations to strategic dimensions associated with a "Cold War," it was not initially accompanied by the militarization of U.S. foreign policy or of the international relations of states engaged in the making of liberal order. Such militarization would emerge only at the end of the 1940s.

A strong indicator of the nonmilitarized dimensions of American foreign policy is the conscious commitment held until 1949 to employ economic means as the basis of containment. ₂ Even as late as April 1949 most policymakers still agreed that "economic recovery must not be sacrificed to rearmament and must continue to be given a clear priority." In what has come to be known as "economic security," the U.S. was able to use economic aid as diplomatic leverage while simultaneously aiding recovery on the national and international economic levels. Both functions, in turn, dovetailed with the containment goal of helping European states and societies resist the internal and external push and pull of the Soviet Union. ₃ Economic security, for the most part, was based on the notion that economic recovery could generate political stability and undermine internal communist challenges and external Soviet pressures. This, of course, is the positive version of economic security, and its application was most notably associated with the European Recovery Program (ERP). The negative (or punitive) version of economic security stressed sanctions and was applied notably in Eastern Europe. ₄

Of course, the association of economics and security in the context of order-making is longstanding. Nineteenth-century Cobdenite propositions to the effect that "trade leads to peace" shaped the views of important U.S. policymakers, including wartime Secretary of State Cordell Hull, who had decided as a congressman-as early as World War I-that "unhampered trade dovetailed with peace; high tariffs, trade barriers, and unfair competition, with war." ₅ Wartime planners such as Hull and others expected to exploit this "law" in the post-World War II world. As one 1944 State Department memo put it:

The development of sound international economic relations is closely related to the problem of security. The establishment of a system of international trade which would make it possible for each country to have greater access to world markets and resources would reduce incentives to military aggression and provide a firm basis for political cooperation. ₆

Before relations with the Soviets became confrontational, it was expected that those "sound relations" would compel the Soviet Union to be at peace along with the other united nations. As relations became increasingly confrontational, this inclusive logic to the application of economic security began to fade away. The exclusive logic associated with containment became prominent. Economic means could be emphasized over military ones in order to secure states along the liberal uniaxis. ₇ The strategic power of U.S. economic predominance could be applied to contend with the Soviet challenge to order-making in a manner that appeared to be consistent with the liberal order-building project par excellence. Since policymakers had determined there was no immediate threat of war with the Soviet Union this was a feasible course. Indeed, the whole logic of economic security was predicated on the notion that the investment was sound-one does not furnish a house about to be bulldozed.

A further advantage to this formula for containment was that it was more likely to appeal to members of Congress who advocated a pro-business approach to external affairs. In effect, by joining security and economy in efforts such as the ERP, the Truman administration was able to gain support for both the politico-strategic and economic dimensions of liberal order-building. ₈

As this last point suggests, economic security did double duty by both containing Soviet pressures and building stable liberal economic conditions and relations at the national and international levels. In doing so, economic security reinforced the importance of Western European states and societies in the domains of national market relations and international economic exchange. ₉

Economic security facilitated the operation of principles associated with other liberal domains as well. The resources made available to Western European states under economic security programs were designed to achieve political stability and allow states to work out their own social and economic agendas (within limits, of course). While this outcome enhanced collective self-determination, it also supported representative democratic practices by creating space for the demands of the democratic left. In Western Europe economic security was also viewed by U.S. policymakers as a way to enhance "personal freedom and social equality." ₁₀ In other words, creating a stable environment of economic growth would open up room for individuals and groups not only to survive, but also to pursue their interests in the political as well as the economic spheres. It was thought that it would equally undermine those interests-such as European communist parties-which sought to destroy such liberty-enhancing conditions. All in all, policymakers began the postwar period with a far broader understanding of security than the narrower strategic emphasis we have come to associate with the Cold War.

That there was great conceptual consistency between the strategy of economic security and the liberal order-building project does not mean that tensions associated with the implementation of economic security failed to arise. Western European states, as mentioned above, clearly objected to the potential for intervention inherent in economic security programs. Such objections plagued much of the history of the ERP. While Western European states may have wanted access to U.S. economic resources deployed in their region, they did not necessarily want the political intervention that accompanied dependence on a preponderant U.S. state.

U.S. policymakers discovered that the way to minimize such tensions, was to limit the political dimension of the program. During the war, planners believed that the conjunction of political and economic concerns could be minimized in the classic liberal sense of separation: techno-market logics and expertise would triumph over sectarian, power interests. In a Senate hearing on Bretton Woods, Secretary of the Treasury Henry Morgenthau, Jr. claimed that "[t]hese are to be financial institutions run by financial people, financial experts, and the needs in a financial way of a country are to be taken care of wholly independent of the political connection." ₁₁

The application of economic security was increasingly focused on the technologies of ostensibly apolitical economic growth, which constituted a "productionist" approach. ₁₂ Constricting economic security this way served triple duty. First, states that were protective of their autonomy were willing to tolerate an increase in U.S. intervention along minimal, productionist lines. Second, the productionist approach made it easier for Congress to accept a new U.S. interventionist role because it at least would be expressly limited. Third, in a fashion that mirrored the effects of the strategic reduction discussed in chapter 3, the productionist approach provided a degree of closure for the fragile and vulnerable intra-liberal political relations emerging in the immediate postwar years. Production increases were emphasized over the political challenges of redistribution. Such productionist closure, as Charles Maier points out, not only headed off political challenges by groups associated with the democratic left such as unions, but also ensured that such groups would not be able to abuse easily the opportunities economic growth opened up for them. ₁₃

Despite Morgenthau's claims, U.S. postwar policymakers never did separate politics from economics. They used economic power to delimit and ultimately shape political outcomes in Europe. If anything, policymakers were supremely political. Through programs such as the ERP, economic relations were politicized in subtle ways relative to the generally strong-arm, neomercantilism of bilateral trade agreements employed by the Nazis. ₁₄

The politics of liberal order-building took shape as a sort of meta-politics in that it was applied across societies and territories, not unlike the politics of empires. ₁₅ After all, at stake was an international order and an external state. Kennan conveyed this sense of politics when he told a National War College audience at the end of 1947 that the "days have passed" when foreign policy could be made on the basis of mere principles. "[W]hen we use the word 'policy' today we often mean. . . . politics on a world scale [Kennan's italics]." ₁₆

The substance of the politics of liberal order-building revolved primarily around the setting of limits. It is not unfamiliar in the history of liberalism. The question of limits or boundaries was central to the nineteenth-century tension between democracy and liberalism described in chapter 1 and the tension between international economic exchange and democratic governance described in chapter 3. Productionism, exclusionist logic, and minimalization were all potent mechanisms for the establishment of boundaries to claims, contestations, and demands in the making of states and societies in Europe and elsewhere-practices that we more typically think of as "political." Containment itself was the politics of boundary-making par excellence. Perhaps ironically, as I shall discuss further below, the politics of liberal order also entailed containing the character and extent of U.S. hegemonic agency itself.

The sense that there was an imperative to delimit the range of allowable practices in liberal order (e.g. left, but not too left) was most strikingly conveyed by Kennan in a mid-1946 lecture at the National War College on "Measures Short of War": "On the strictly political measures short of war, I only mention one category because it, in my opinion, is our major political weapon short of war. That measure is the cultivation of solidarity with other like-minded nations on every given issue of our foreign policy." ₁₇

This ostensibly innocent plea for consensus is really a plea for limits to dissent, contention, and contest. A plea for containment turned inward, toward the "self" of the West. We now know, thankfully, that the success of such an effort had very distinct limits. Liberal order, of course, has been far more diverse and empowering than the order constructed by the Soviet Union in Eastern Europe, where the setting not simply of boundaries, but also the specific substance and character of social existence was far more prevalent. ₁₈

The alternative to the closure and boundary-making that was so pervasive in the construction of liberal order is suggested by the possibility, explored in the previous chapter, of agents determining the character and boundaries of their social existence in far more diverse-and less limited-ways than, it turned out, was possible in the postwar period. ₁₉ Of course, such an order would still be marked by limits. Order-making is always, I have emphasized, about boundary-making. But we might imagine in such an order that limits would emerge out of the mutual obligations agents would have to respect or even aid the setting of one another's terms of social existence, rather than the attempt to "cultivate solidarity," as Kennan had put it. ₂₀ We should not however underestimate the institutional inventiveness that would be necessary in such an order to overcome the types of tensions postwar policymakers faced in the actual order that did emerge, and that compelled their recourse to containment. ₂₁

Economic Security and the Emergence of an American Military-Strategic System

Relying on economic security measures allowed U.S. policymakers to confront the increasing sense of threat posed by the Soviet Union without militarizing the relations among Atlantic states. Despite the reliance on economic security, the U.S. was intent on building a postwar military-strategic system and was willing, when it was deemed necessary, to take militaristic turns in its foreign policy in pursuit of containment. The question is, what was the relationship between economic security and the strategic dimensions of U.S. policy in the immediate postwar years?

In the pursuit of a postwar settlement, the U.S. had committed itself to the establishment of an external state that would be built for the most part on the military organizational extension inherited from its war effort. Between 1945 and 1946 many of the forward bases established in the war would be made permanent in the Pacific and the Atlantic, troops would be committed indefinitely in occupation duty, in both Europe and Asia, the A-bomb would become a part of U.S. strategic calculations, and the U.S. military establishment would set itself the task of keeping the postwar peace. ₂₂ By 1947 the U.S. had begun foreign military assistance to countries such as Iran and Turkey, sent military advisers to Greece, and committed itself to a Latin American regional alliance known as the Rio Pact. ₂₃

These developments, however, do not establish that U.S. foreign policy or, more broadly, U.S.-European relations, had become militarized. For instance, even as late as 1948 there had not yet emerged a national policy on military assistance. _2<4/a> Despite the initially predominant deployment of military organs in the U.S. external state, the character and scope of the duties of these organs shifted rather quickly from activities associated with the cessation of war to political and economic organization (especially in occupied territories). With time, civil organs such as the ERP increasingly populated the U.S. external state. What the strategic developments described above represent is the construction of a military-strategic system that was an important dimension of a U.S. external state that was employed in the settlement of World War II and, more broadly, in the making of liberal order. In this respect, an external state does not differ from state-making in general. It always has its strategic side.

We have already seen that the presence of the U.S. and Soviet external states raised the salience of strategic factors in Western Europe. This understanding of the strategic dynamics of the time is consistent with the view of historian Melvyn Leffler that what unsettled the U.S. about the Soviets was their challenge to the military and economic systems the U.S. was constructing in Europe and Asia. ₂₅ However, Leffler's strategic emphasis should be balanced with the observation, explored above, that it was only because there was a liberal order-building process that Soviet military power mattered so much. And it was the increasing externalization of the Soviet Union from the liberal order that gave grounds, in the first place, to a sense that the Soviets constituted a threat, military or otherwise. Externalization created the position from which the Soviet Union could constitute a threat not just for military planners concerned with the strategic dimensions of the external state, but also for Western European and American political leaders and policymakers. ₂₆

Indeed, we ought not overemphasize the military dimensions of the Soviet threat at the time. As the Soviets became externalized, it was the political dimension of Soviet military power in Eastern Europe that was thought by U.S. policymakers to constitute the major threat. Soviet military power was seen especially by Kennan as a symbol of power in Europe that might bolster, attract, and create forces that could change the political configuration of Western Europe either through elections, expanded international relations, subversion, or social instability. This view was demonstrated by the very embrace of economic security, which was designed to meet the (political) Soviet threat on an economic plane that was separate from the military one. At least this appeared to be the hope of planners like Kennan. Indeed, in congressional hearings on the ERP the Truman administration repeatedly denied the military dimensions of the program, not because of some secret plan to build up a militarized security system from a stable economic base, but because there was a conscious effort to pursue security in Europe through economic means for all the reasons outlined above. ₂₇

In addition, the placing of security on an economic plane helped avoid confronting the international politics of military security at a stage when such politics might entail an exercise of leadership the U.S. Congress would not tolerate. That is, it would have required the U.S. to take the lead in 1947 in constructing an alliance system from scratch based, for the most part, on an American effort to recruit, commit, and organize allies. Such a task would have been quite daunting and, indeed, hardly even occurred to American policymakers at the time. As we know it would be up to the Europeans to start the process that ended in NATO. Even the impetus-albeit not the character-of the Rio Pact came mostly from Latin American states seeking a regional alliance. ₂₈

Containment as an International Liberal Political Form

One conclusion to be drawn from the above observations is that containment-the overarching strategy of U.S. foreign policy-was first conceived as a multidimensional strategy comprising economic, military, and political elements (this holds even though there was a deliberate effort to employ primarily economic security wherever it was judged to be feasible). When the State-War-Navy Coordinating Committee considered some of the basic strategy behind a European aid program that become the ERP, it considered military and economic aid, as well as "political support . . . and vigorous programs of information." ₂₉ 9 However, by 1950 military aid and assistance became predominant in the U.S. approach to containment. What I would like to examine are the forces in play in the rising predominance of military over nonmilitary containment and evaluate the relation between containment and liberal order-building. It was, as I will show, ironically the very commitment to economic security that actually helped open the way at the end of the 1940s toward the militarization of international liberal political relations.

One window on the dynamics of this transformation is found in the application of containment to the Greek civil war. Prior to receiving word from British policymakers in early 1947 that they no longer could seriously aid the Greek state in its civil war, the U.S. extended mostly economic aid to Greece. The Truman Doctrine was the response to the British abdication. It redefined U.S. policy in Greece and represented the first overt application of the containment policy. It also precipitated an increasing emphasis on military over economic assistance to Greece, which by 1950 would mark the containment strategy as applied to Europe as a whole. While there is no reason to believe prima facie that a parallel set of dynamics was in play across the Continent, U.S. assistance to Greece under the Truman Doctrine can at least be understood to represent an important instance of the general transformation of economic into military aid in Europe. The difference is that the transformation in the Greek case occurred earlier and within a more compressed time frame. ₃₀ It thus had special significance as a precedent for policymakers to consider as they fashioned policy in other parts of Europe.

In the sections that follow, I will trace the conditions and paths of this particular transformation in general terms and then with reference to the Greek case, keeping in view the goal of showing how containment constituted an international political form that was specifically liberal. In succeeding sections, I will place the main themes of this transformation in the context of changes undergone by Europe as a whole.

Partiality and Nodal Points of Strength

Grasping how containment operated in the context of liberal order-building requires that we understand the terms upon which states were incorporated into the emerging liberal order. Any type of containment keeps things in as well as out. I have argued that liberal order linked a diversity of states and societies, especially because of the way that many nonliberal ones were drawn into the liberal moment and order-making. Not only can states and societies be liberal moderns in varying ways, but also a given state and society might only be shaped, partially, by one or two dimensions of liberal modernity. This means that regime type is not a sufficient basis for determining involvement in liberal order. For example, numerous nondemocratic states have participated in postwar international economic exchange and developed liberalistic market relations in places such as southern Europe, Asia, and Latin America. The logic of this type of partial participation was most forcefully expressed by Jeane Kirkpatrick, in her controversial 1979 article, "Dictatorships and Double Standards." Kirkpatrick argued for the value of engagement with right-wing authoritarian regimes which, in comparison to left wing totalitarian ones, at least "leave in place existing allocations of wealth, power, [and] status." _3<1/a>

Partial incorporation in liberal order occurs because states serve as the primary mechanism for ordering relations across societies and territories. The involvement of states, as centralized political forms, in liberal relations (e.g., the signing of trade agreements, the making of markets, or the assertion of self-determination claims) does not necessarily draw along with it an entire society and territory under its jurisdiction into liberal modernity. Yet this involvement does allow the nonliberal state, its society, and territory, to be subject to the ordering, agency, and interests of other states in a liberal order. This subjection can range from an engagement with elites in a capital city to the establishment of market relations in a resource-rich periphery.

Partial inclusion, I would argue, is what underlies what Robert Jackson has observed about weak, Third-World states (which he labels "quasi-states") in the post-World War II period. ₃₂ States with limited capacity to govern the societies and territories within their formal boundaries are nonetheless legitimized on an international basis through what Jackson describes as a "liberal sovereignty regime." This regime is embodied in the institutions and norms of the U.N. that reinforce the integrity and autonomy of any recognized state based on principles of collective self-determination.

There are two dimensions to liberal modernity that make this regime and, more generally, partiality possible. First, the differentiated, domain structure of liberal modernity precludes it from being totalizing. Varying forms of liberal practices and institutions are possible, as are varying degrees: hence, the salience of the term liberalization (and the general lack thereof for "communization"). (Remember that in the context of the uneven forms of liberalization shaping most of the states and societies of nineteenth-century Europe described in chapter 1, there was a great deal of partiality.) The nontotalizing character of liberalism means that a nonliberal state can participate in sovereignty and international economic regimes that are liberal.

Second, of all the actors entailed in the operation of liberal domains, none is more central than the state. Its centrality is readily apparent in the domains of self-determination, liberal democracy, and market economies. But the same holds for the domains of individual and group rights and international liberal economic exchange. It is the state that legislates, implements, and enforces rules and rights. Despite the presence and struggle of a multitude of actors, the existence of liberal modernity as it has emerged in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries has not depended on an international community of shared values. Rather, it has depended on the embodiment of liberal practices and principles at the level of the state and its society. ₃₃ That is, when it comes to other types of actors, their endeavors are best understood as being directed mostly at changing the practices and policies of states. Liberal order is no exception as a modern order in that the state-liberal or not-is privileged as the primary agent of order. Within the liberal tradition, the pursuit of justice and freedom has chiefly taken form as a project of shaping states. Even the international and cosmopolitan exchange of goods and ideas has chiefly been understood by Cobden and others as forces that ultimately are meant to contribute to that project. ₃₄ That the Westphalian state system predates the rise of liberal modernity and order makes the state and its sovereignty no less an element of liberal order than the market, which has a pedigree that is more ancient than the Westphalian state.

It was therefore to be expected that in the making of liberal order U.S. policymakers would rely extensively upon the state. The state in liberal order could not only establish liberal relations in the context of a given society and territory, it could also keep a society and territory inside liberal boundaries, serving the perceived economic and strategic requirements of liberal order-making. In lieu of a working state, the U.S. external state would have to assume these order-making responsibilities itself, as it did in Germany and Japan. Since extensive external state commitments of this nature were problematic, this was a very ugly prospect. This point was not lost on Kennan, who wrote in October, 1947:

Basically the stability of international relations must rest on a natural balance of national and regional forces. . . . I would not hesitate to say that the first and primary element of "containment" . . . would be the encouragement and development of other forces resistant to communism. The peculiar difficulty of the immediate post-hostilities period has rested in the fact that . . . Russia was surrounded only by power vacuums. At the outset, these could be filled . . . only by direct action on the part of this Government. This is admittedly an undesirable situation; and it should be a cardinal point of our policy to see to it that other elements of independent power are developed on the Eurasian land mass as rapidly as possible, in order to take off our shoulders some of the burden of "bipolarity." To my mind the chief beauty of the Marshall plan was that it had outstandingly this effect. ₃₅

The trick would be to locate what I would call the nodal points of strength that could generate this "independent power" throughout the states, societies, and territories defined inside the boundaries of liberal order. We saw in the last chapter that the legitimacy afforded by democratic governance was viewed-at least for Western Europe-as a crucial basis for the independent strength and vitality necessary to keep states and societies inside the emerging liberal order. The "beauty" of this form of strength (or state) building was that it also reinforced the internal organization of societies and states along liberal lines. Above, we saw how the recourse to economic security was premised on the notion that building sound economies led to political stability and capacity to resist communist pressures. It might then pose a problem that there were so many states or emerging states drawn into liberal order that were not liberal, and that at least, in principle, governed territories and societies within which liberal modernity was at best only lightly inscribed. Ironically, partial incorporation was exactly what diffused this problem. Because the societies and territories of nonliberal states were only partially drawn into liberal order-making, it would not be necessary to build up their strength across all five domains of liberal modernity in order to assure their continued incorporation and resistance to Soviet pressures. Rather, at a minimum, it would be necessary to locate strength in the state per se, to at least make sure that a society and territory remained inside of the emerging boundaries of liberal order. Joseph Jones, State Department staff member involved in the drafting of both the Truman Doctrine and the Marshall Plan, grasped this logic when he wrote:

The survival of nations themselves rather than the survival of liberal trading practices became the central issue. The dollar gap, reconstruction, economic integration, United States aid to help create economic conditions in which human freedom could survive-these matters suddenly pushed normal commercial policies into the background, there to remain for several years. ₃₆

On one level, Jones is simply restating the logic of economic security, especially as it was applied in Western Europe. But Jones evokes these phrases in reference to the Truman Doctrine. In the case of Greece and Turkey, the issue was, as Truman put it in his famous Truman Doctrine speech, "the very existence of the Greek state. . . . as an independent state," which meant, in effect, a state incorporated within the boundaries of liberal order. ₃₇ Indeed, Jones's "human freedom" in this case was equivalent to freedom from Soviet pressures. The movement of liberal (economic) policies, as Jones put it, "into the background," implied that what counted was the sheer capacity of a state to keep its society and territory inside liberal boundaries, rather than to organize them along liberal lines. If a state was not liberal (and Greece and Turkey were not), then economic aid (or security) measures could still be employed to support the state's existence, suspending concern with its liberalization. As we shall see, U.S. policymakers were precipitously close to moving toward the type of economic and military aid to authoritarian regimes that, thirty years later, Kirkpatrick would feel compelled to defend. To claim that policymakers were just being "realistic" is to miss the point. They were confronting the strategic dynamics of building a liberal order that involved partial inclusion and depended heavily on nodal points of strength. These were dynamics of which the challenge of the Soviet Union was only a part.

Containment's Virtues: Flexibility and Universality

Containment was a universal policy that put in place a standard strategic principle for the countering of Soviet-related internal and external pressures across the spectrum of states and societies within the liberal order. The express aim of the containment policy, as discussed in chapter 3, was to stem the push and pull of the Soviet Union. Partial inclusion was essential to the containment of pressures associated with the Soviet Union at specific points along the borders of the liberal world. States and societies whose involvement in the emerging order of liberal relations was relatively tenuous were incorporated in that order, preventing them from being pulled into the Soviet orbit. As early as mid-1947, Kennan had understood this logic regarding fascist Spain. If the West would normalize relations with the Franco regime, then the communist threat in that region could be reduced. Spain could be defined into the liberal world in order to prevent it from being defined out. In a somewhat similar fashion, the extension of ex-enemy Italy's participation in liberal relations to the strategic realm was advanced by its inclusion in 1949 in the North Atlantic Treaty; in part because such an extension of alliance relations would constitute an insurance against any effort of the Communist party to push Italy toward the Soviet Union. ₃₈

In 1947 Walter Lippmann condemned the Truman Doctrine as a "vague global policy," underspecified as to where, when, and how it would be applied, unless it was intended to be applied everywhere. What he failed to observe at that time was that the loose, unspecified, and universalistic nature of the Truman Doctrine was actually quite consistent with the multidimensionality of containment. ₃₉ Where and how to apply containment would be specified only in each particular case of its application. Indeed, Acheson used the flexibility theme to defend the Truman Doctrine against congressional critics who attacked it for implying a global U.S. commitment to aid countries in distress. He told the Senate Foreign Relations Committee in the spring of 1947:

Any requests of foreign countries for aid will have to be considered according to the circumstances in each individual case. . . . It cannot be assumed, therefore, that this government would necessarily undertake measures in any other country identical or even closely similar to those proposed for Greece and Turkey. ₄₀

In terms of domestic politics, the nonspecifity of containment avoided the necessity of having to confront the political task of constructing a detailed policy vis-à-vis U.S. allies and Congress. In the international realm the flexible strategy of containment complemented the political dynamics of liberal order-building: in a world of partial inclusion and uneven points of strength, it permitted U.S. policymakers to fit the architecture of its application to the varied character of states and societies involved. ₄₁ What containment opened up for U.S. policymakers was the possibility of working out specific policies as the need for them arose at each point where "counter-force" would be applied. The advantage of such a globalized, albeit unspecified, policy was that it could build on the available nodal points of strength throughout the liberal order. In this sense containment, although it was conceived in universalistic terms, had the advantage of a particularistic approach. In principle it opened up opportunity for actors at the nation-state level to apply containment as they saw fit with the aid and consent of the United States. Kennan had thought it best to fashion a U.S. foreign policy so that universal principles would flow out of initial attention to the particularities of a given situation. But his own containment doctrine called for a broad response to Soviet pressures, which could only lend itself to the universalistic character of the Truman Doctrine. What he did not note was how such initial universalism opened up the way for particularistic solutions at the local level. ₄₂

The relative lack of pre-given conditions under the containment doctrine, in effect, expanded the "freedom of action" available to policymakers, mirroring the space made available to states, groups, and individuals that is generally a hallmark of international liberal relations. ₄₃ Just as embedded liberalism, as John Ruggie has shown, allowed for specific social and economic solutions at the level of the nation-state in the context of open international economic exchange, containment allowed for the realization of specific solutions in the context of the general application of counter-force to Soviet pressures.

The Backhand of Containment

The problem with the fluid character of containment was that in many circumstances the range of elements that could be relied on as a basis for counter-force-economic, military, or even political-was limited. Containment could depend only those elements that were available as nodal points of strength. In the case of Greece, the application of economic security was untenable. U.S. policymakers decided that Greece lacked an economic base that could respond in the near term to economic aid and development. The domination of Greek politics by a right wing under challenge by leftist guerrillas limited the possibility of a political solution that would incorporate a democratic left in a liberal democratic regime.

Originally, the possibility of a politically negotiated settlement to the Greek civil war held out the promise of a coalition government of left and center parties. However, because of the weakness of the Greek state and economy, U.S. policymakers judged that a risky prospect. Thus, while it is true that in mid-1946 the State Department expressed concern that the rightist government was not representative of the full range of noncommunist parties, that concern slowly disappeared with the rise of a guerrilla movement by 1947. Walter Lippmann warned in The Cold War that containment strategy could lead to the support of authoritarianism-a warning echoed by Kennan at the end of 1947. Indeed, by 1948, as historian Lawrence Wittner points out, the U.S. had clearly decided that because democratic politics was not strong enough to counter the rebellion, increasingly stern, authoritarian measures were necessary. The U.S. and the British no longer pretended to believe in a Greek political settlement; instead they came to believe in the "efficacy of violence." ₄₄

In general terms, what was in operation here is the backhand of a containment that relied on limited nodal points of strength. With that backhand, the possibilities of local solutions on the economic, political, or military planes were constricted to tenable solutions that did not place the survival of the states and societies within the liberal order at too much risk of susceptibility to Soviet-related forces. The obvious contrast is to Western Europe, where strength, as pointed out above, generally could be pursued through political and economic forms of legitimization (e.g., democratic governance or union rights). Such forms were viewed as too risky for states such as Greece, whose inclusion in international liberal relations was predicated for the most part on sheer continued survival. This was survival not in physical terms, but as a specific political entity, which would remain aligned with the liberal uniaxis and defined within the boundaries of liberal order (even if, in the case of Greece, important reasons for such inclusion were access to Middle East oil and the repercussions of a rebel victory for the continued inclusion of other states in the region). Although the Soviets had distanced themselves from any direct connection with the guerrilla movement, such states as Yugoslavia, considered at that time to be within the Soviet orbit, had not. In the view of U.S. policymakers, a guerrilla military victory would have placed Greece in that same orbit.

Partial inclusion thus implies that the hold of the core-and the U.S. in particular-on countries such as Greece was tenuous. Indeed, one of the negative aspects of partiality is that a limited basis of inclusion implies that those states and societies in question are more susceptible to Soviet-related pressures. So, although the recourse to partial inclusion and limited nodal points of strength appeared to be a workable application of containment and an alternative to the costs and risks entailed in liberalization, this recourse had serious drawbacks from the standpoint of building a liberal order. On the one hand, we have seen that it was necessary to close off the possibility of political negotiation with forces that challenged the Greek state, or risk swamping the Greek state with pressures that could not be resisted. This certainly limited perceived policy options and containment tactics. On the other hand, a tenuous basis of inclusion prompted direct involvement by the U.S. external state, which in Greece took shape in numerous organs such as the American Mission to Aid Greece (AMAG). ₄₅

The very incapacities of a state such as Greece in managing an economy and providing for the collective welfare meant the chances of avoiding intervention would be severely limited. In addition, it would be necessary to intervene rather deeply, once a commitment to the political survival of a state was made. Truman was able to justify in his "Truman Doctrine" speech that U.S. intervention in Greece was based on an explicit invitation by the Greek state. But he failed to note that the (secret) U.S. orchestration of the invitation-illustrating the tenuousness of Greek state sovereignty- should worry all congressmen seeking to contain the growth of the U.S. external state. ₄₆ However, the very willingness to go, flexibly, with whatever nodal point of strength was available to minimize detailed global programs of political and economic development-in the Greek case the state's "efficacy of violence"-made the kind of growing involvement of AMAG not just more likely (since what policymakers had to work with was so weak), but of a nature more palatable to congressional critics-militaristic and minimizing planned global economic and political programs.

How ironic that the continued inclusion of a society and its territory in the liberal world, based on the survival of the state as sovereign, should be so closely linked to intervention by outsiders in it. This is the very outcome that sovereignty is generally meant to prevent. But this linkage was consistent with the way U.N. intervention, especially via peacekeeping forces, began taking form during the Cold War. Beginning as early as 1947, observer missions in Kashmir and Jerusalem were deployed in order to prevent violations of external sovereignty. ₄₇ Future research will have to determine the connection between the dynamics of liberal order-building, the sovereignty regime described by Jackson, and the history of U.N. intervention in the Third World. What happened in places like Greece indicate that we may not want to assume that the notable emphasis since World War II on protecting sovereignty was simply a change in norms, but rather that it had a lot do to with the strategic dynamics of building a liberal order.

In sum, the backhand of containment shows that it is not as open a strategic doctrine as it might first appear. Its degree of flexibility is a function of the existing reservoirs of strength. Where those reservoirs are limited, political closure is likely in the form of an avoidance of negotiation and a restriction on the advancement of democratic political processes, including the open and even sometimes legal participation of the full range of leftist parties and unions. If available points of strength are limited to the state, then few options are left besides military force as a means to fend off pressures and challenges such as strikes and insurgencies. Furthermore, what Lippmann had so cogently observed in his Cold War critique of containment was that the very flexibility of the containment strategy meant any given site of challenge among the states and societies that were included in the liberal order on a limited and, therefore, weakened basis was susceptible to the application of containment. ₄₈ That they were weak implied that direct U.S. involvement likely would be necessary. Thus, containment provided a strategic logic to the increasingly globalized engagement of the U.S. external state in 1947-48 which included not simply the Truman Doctrine as applied in Greece, but also information programs and general clandestine activities in Eastern Europe and Western Europe. It also included military missions in Latin America, the eastern Mediterranean, and Asia. ₄₉

If the strategic dimensions of international exchange meant, as discussed in the case of Indonesia, that the U.S. and other liberal core countries would have an incentive to keep countries such as Greece inside the liberal order, then there indeed was no pre-given limit to the boundaries of that order. One thing the endeavor to establish an international liberal order meant was that all societies would be candidates for inclusion in the liberal order-if not on economic, then on strategic grounds, if not through economic, then through military containment, and if not as democracies, then as dictatorships. ₅₀

In their famous article, "The Imperialism of Free Trade," John Gallagher and Ronald Robinson offered us the dictum: "trade with informal control if possible, trade with rule when necessary." ₅₁ Only where the political and social conditions made quasi-independent governments feasible could formal annexation be avoided when a given territory and society was judged essential for securing the nexus of global British economic interests. The twentieth-century version of this dictum might read: inclusion in liberal order with democracy if possible, inclusion with authoritarian rule when necessary. Although across a century, very different historical forces and moments separate these two logics, they both express what happens when, in the development of projects that are global in scale, the main agents are inclined (whether out of their liberalism or sheer pursuit of efficiency) to seek out local strength and stability, only to confront in the end themselves and their project, reflected in a distorted mirror, situated in a far-off land. Liberal order-builders might have locked themselves into an undesirable circle, where the type of political and social closures described above limited the basis or means of engagement and compelled them to become far more interventionary. But by doing so, they very likely helped to limit the very liberalization (except in narrow economic terms) that might have otherwise stemmed that intervention. Accepting the arguments of policymakers that there were great risks involved in doing it any other way is not unlike accepting the arguments of nineteenth-century liberals that democratization would lead to the collapse of European society. Tragically, it may be that both international and domestic liberal order-makers adopted these views because of a sense that so much is at stake in the order that they build (especially stability, freedom, and economic prosperity). These stakes compel liberal order-builders to fashion exceptional terms and means of inclusion and exclusion for groups and societies that have no comfortable place within liberal orders. ₅₂

The reliance on local power is an ancient imperial strategy, facilitating the extraction of resources for the center without having to construct political mechanisms for direct administrative control. ₅₃ What is significant about the twentieth-century embodiment of this legacy is that the strategy could be applied outside the context of formal empire in ways that appeared to make sense to thoroughly liberal moderns.

Evaluating the Ramifications of Containment

The logics and tensions in the doctrine and practice of containment that led to an expansion of U.S. intervention should not blind us to the forces and agents that set limits to the scope of the U.S. external state. States and groups in Western Europe, although they welcomed U.S. intervention in the region, sought to limit the extent to which such intervention curtailed their own relative autonomy to set the terms for their own social existence (this will be explored further below). In addition, we have seen how U.S. policymakers such as Kennan realized there were material and normative limits to the construction of the U.S. external state as a constitutive presence setting the terms for liberal order around the globe. And, as we have seen all along, limits were set by congressional representatives of U.S. internal state interests. Out of all this emerged a tendency toward what I would call a "liberal-minimalization" in U.S. foreign policy and external state-building. ₅₄ It emerged in the attempt to limit the construction of permanent political institutions in the external realm, whether they were explicitly part of the U.S. external state or not (e.g., the UN). Such construction could either be prevented altogether or, if that was not possible, limits could be set to the authority and scope of an institution. ₅₅

Liberal minimalization, of course, was already apparent in the pursuit of containment, as we saw in the Greek case. Clearly, the principle of flexibility and openness to specific local solutions in the containment doctrine was based on available strengths and, in effect, avoided the construction of a complex strategic program up front. Indeed, given the congressional resistance to such construction that surfaced during the hearings on the Truman Doctrine, the U.S. administration was left with little choice.

The advantage of the approach taken in countries such as Greece was that the ideological manifestation of containment as anti-communism incorporated countries in international liberalism at the global level, while nonliberal outcomes at the local level could be effected. And by initiating a globalized campaign of anti-communism the U.S. created a common ideological resource for states and groups at the local level to "feed from" in their struggle against Soviet-related internal pressures. While in Western Europe the political fate of communist members of government became precarious by mid-1947, ₅₆ in Greece and the eastern Mediterranean their very lives became precarious. Supplemented by the ideological program of anti-communism, containment did not require the construction of a politico-ideological program for each specific country tied in to the doctrinal and ideological dimensions of international liberalism, which might otherwise have necessitated a more direct political role for the U.S. In any case, such a campaign was hardly feasible given the reality of nonliberal practices in places such as Greece and Indonesia. Because they avoided what would clearly have been a much more extensive political and ideological role for the U.S., containment and anti-communism remained consistent with the imperative of liberal-minimalization.

As a strategic doctrine that assumed the necessity of countering Soviet-related forces and pressures, containment also made the intentions of the "enemy" a moot point and served to focus the attention of the West on its capabilities. ₅₇ This became very apparent in NSC-68. Kennan criticized the document for its tendency to freeze Soviet intentions into a permanently hostile and global dominating mold and to emphasize a fear of Soviet capabilities rather than to consider more carefully whether Stalin actually was out to conquer the world. ₅₈ Bradley Klein has recently argued that Kennan very much misread the issue of intentions, in that NSC-68 repeatedly constructed the Soviet Union as an aggressive totalitarian state bent on global domination. The document, thereby, quite aggressively attributed intentions to the Soviet Union (to say nothing of the grossly specious claims about Soviet capabilities). ₅₉ But Klein misses the point: what NSC-68 did was reduce intentions to strategic factors. That is, it insisted that a totalitarian state was strategically capable of challenging the West. Being totalitarian and having the option of pursuing expansive and aggressive projects of conquest were turned into capabilities. What Kennan perceived in NSC-68 was a retreat from the kind of informed political analysis of intentions that he and Charles Bohlen believed they had offered throughout the 1940s. (Vietnam-era Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara recently lamented the absence of this type of analysis regarding Southeast Asia. ₆₀ )

More specifically, in NSC-68, the authors observed that totalitarian systems can change policy and tactics with little regard for the preferences of the citizenry. The West, by implication, does not share this advantage or, rather, capability. ₆₁ Thus, as we saw in the more general reduction of the Soviet challenge to the strategic realm, given the fragility of international liberal politics, the reduction of Soviet intentions to capabilities could help avoid having to reset and redefine political relations and strategy every time there was a perceived shift in communist intentions. In such a context, building a strategy that was sensitive to the uncertain changes in intentions would have been particularly cumbersome. This type of strategic reduction has been observed by Friedrich Kratochwil to constitute a "double reduction of politics," where, on the one hand, there is "the reduction of the game of politics to structures of capability" and, on the other hand, there "is the further illicit assumption that military capabilities trump other forms of power and influence." ₆₂

Besides overcoming one of the perceived disadvantages of a pluralized order whose core is composed of liberal democracies, the stress on Soviet capabilities reinforced Soviet externalization. It provided a strategic basis for discounting any signs of Soviet desire to re-enter the liberal order while the Soviet Union still could put pressure on relations in that order. Containment in this regard constituted a sort of strategic version of productionism, wherein international political rivalry was reduced to the techno-military capacity of both sides to produce force. ₆₃

The dynamics of liberal-minimalization, universalism, and political closure in U.S. foreign policy played themselves out in a parallel fashion in the UN, which shared responsibility with the U.S. for the universal promotion of liberal norms. As British policymakers observed, the UN appeared in the immediate postwar years to "relieve" the U.S. of some of the responsibilities of world leadership. And the UN, by facilitating endless deliberations, could help the U.S. avoid the necessity of having to "negotiate real trade-offs with Moscow." ₆₄

But the UN's role in liberal order-building was limited. For the most part it had became clear by 1946-47 that the UN was an insufficient political arena for ordering Soviet-U.S. relations. One recalls the UN, as it was constructed, certainly could not concentrate enough agency to contend with the problems of building a liberal order. ₆₅ While it might serve the ends of partial inclusion by providing a normative legitimation for survival and inclusion of externally sovereign states, the deliberative nature of and Soviet presence in the UN prevented it from being used in any meaningful way in places such as Greece, once the externalization of the Soviet Union was becoming clear. The U.S. external state had to be relied upon. Indeed, even Senator Vandenberg, who was famous for his attachment to the fate of the UN, claimed during the so-called Greek crisis that "Greece could collapse fifty times before the UN itself could ever hope to handle a situation of this nature." ₆₆

As confrontation with the Soviet Union expanded, it became more and more clear that the increasingly global scope of this confrontation exceeded the political confines of the UN. This meant that policies directly bearing on important international political outcomes would be made directly by the liberal core and the Soviet Union outside of the UN. Such an outcome, in any event, was consistent with the dynamics of Soviet externalization, in that the Soviet ability to affect liberal definitions through the U.N would be contained. ₆₇ Although the UN came to play a useful role in liberal order-through, for example, its good offices, peacekeeping forces, and development efforts-it remained far weaker and less authoritative than some had hoped for in 1945. In the end, a weak UN was consistent with the more general U.S. unease with authoritative and broad-scoped international institutions.

Containment, Intervention, and the Boundaries of International Liberal Practices

I would like to conclude this discussion of containment by considering further the cross pressures that on the one hand expanded and on the other set limits to U.S. intervention. In the case of Greece, as we saw, the U.S. increasingly took control of the Greek state during the civil war, even though the reliance on the Right and a military solution was originally viewed as the quickest, most efficient, and, therefore, most minimal route to stability. That is, despite this growing involvement of the U.S. in Greece, the U.S. attempted to set definite limits to U.S. intervention. This effort had two faces. First, while the scope of intervention would be extensive, policymakers endeavored to limit the character of the external state organs operating in Greece to an advisory status, thereby rendering them temporary in nature. And second, in order to evade public charges of imperialism from the Soviet Union, the U.S. made sure to avoid sending troops to Greece. ₆₈ (The transformation of advisers into troops was not avoided years later in Vietnam, for reasons that are too complex to do justice to here.)

To understand how these cross pressures operated beyond the Greek case we need to consider how the application of containment mapped out globally. To start, the Middle East and especially Eastern Europe were both recognized as regions where the U.S. possessed limited organizational reach, particularly in the military sphere. ₆₉ Policymakers were also reluctant to build external state organs in China or India. They were generally happy to defer to the operation of the British external state in its traditional spheres of influence from the Mediterranean to the Pacific. Even within Western Europe the Joint Chiefs of Staff sought a minimum U.S. troop commitment into 1950, in the hope that European states themselves would supply the necessary forces. ₇₀

Nonetheless, policymakers strategically concentrated resources on "Europe first," privileging it as an important region of the liberal core. But concentration there also made sense because it was the one region where it was believed that an intensive-albeit expensive-investment of resources would pay off in a rapid success, given the scope of the nodal points of strength present there. ₇₁ Acheson let the public know in mid-1947 that it was necessary "to concentrate our emergency assistance in areas where it will be most effective in building world political and economic stability." ₇₂ In this respect the strategy reflected a recognition that there were limits to the range of external state operations.

This strategy closely resembled one of Walter Lippmann's main arguments in The Cold War. U.S. policy should stress building the strength of the Atlantic states because they would be the U.S.'s most effective allies. ₇₃ In a fashion reminiscent of Walter Lippmann, historians such as the Kolkos believe there was a contradiction in a U.S. foreign policy with "universal objectives, but finite power." ₇₄ However, as we saw, it was exactly this gap that the doctrine of containment was designed to bridge. The universalism in a doctrine like containment allowed for very uneven forms of involvement. Economic security was applied in Western Europe, while in southern Europe, Latin America, and Asia there was a tendency to stress military security. ₇₅ More generally, under containment, U.S. policymakers were able to rely on particular configurations of available forces, or nodal points of strength, strong enough to contain communism, including repressive state mechanisms. Entire dimensions of social and political life in a given state and society not deemed relevant to the location of strength could be ignored even if these dimensions had some bearing on liberal doctrine and practice. Kennan warned in early 1948 that in contrast to Western Europe "[w]e should not talk about vague and-for the Far East-unreal objectives such as human rights, the raising of living standards, and democratization." ₇₆ The very ability to define out-of-focus categories of social practice such as the exercise of civil rights meant that where links to liberalism were tenuous, the application of liberal principles could be avoided. Indeed, this was very much an advantage of the doctrine of containment: it was not necessary to become involved with or intervene in societies on an even basis. Thus, yet one more bridge between the particular and the universal could be relied upon. Partial integration ensured that significant aspects of the social and political life of a nonliberal state and society could lie outside the operation of liberal domains.

The process of defining out aspects of social and political life in the application of containment led to increased intervention, as we saw, because of the inherent weakness of societies such as Greece. Such an observation would seem to imply that it was only in the weaker, partial participants of the liberal order that the application of containment led to increased intervention, especially in the security realm. But this is incorrect. Even in Western Europe the application of containment, which at first served to minimize intervention, in the end increased it.

This happened, in part, as follows. We have already seen how the universality of the doctrine of containment, despite covert intervention to stem unwanted political outcomes, was designed to open the way for the states in Western Europe to define their own particular terms for the generation of counterforce in the region. Unlike the unstable Greek state, Western European states were strong enough to determine on their own how much sovereign control they would retain over their own security. They were able, to a great extent through their own choosing, to gain the benefits of cooperation with the U.S. in establishing a military security system in the region (i.e., NATO). Because of the universal and nonspecific character of containment, Western European states could define their own sense of what mix of forces would be necessary to contain communism there. Ultimately included in that mix was military security. While the reasons for this turn to military security will be explored below, it can be noted here that the cost to European states of this security was an increase in U.S. intervention. Where economic security entailed a minimum of U.S. intervention in European states, the demand for a system of military security opened the way for further intervention, and ultimately, as we shall see, the transformation of containment from a predominantly economic to a predominantly military program. ₇₇ Although partial members such as Turkey were much more susceptible to encroachment, Western European states often had to resist the U.S. desire for base rights and military advisers in their capitals. ₇₈ The problem was that there was no clear balance between the requisites of security and the boundaries of state sovereignty. Once European states were willing to surrender significant aspects of their control over military security to the U.S., they would have to be vigilant in regard to the encroachment of security demands on those aspects of security not yet surrendered (e.g., specific force configurations). Thus, the very capacity to apply economic security in Western Europe based on the political and economic strengths of the states in the region had made possible the "invitation" to the U.S. to become more deeply involved in Europe's security, and more interventionist. In effect, through their own election, Western European policymakers curtailed what has been historically counted as an important prerogative of sovereign states: direct and self-reliant responsibility for determining and providing for the defense of the realm. It would take a de Gaulle in the 1960s to make a contentious political issue of this curtailment. ₇₉

Economic Security, Integration, and the Liberal State

The need to apply economic security in Europe makes one thing evident. Despite the relative strength of Western European states, they were far from stable in both economic and political terms. Policymakers in the U.S. and Europe viewed the recovery of economies at the national level as a necessity. But the economic weakness of states and national economies in general belied for U.S. policymakers and legislators any effort to rely only on European state power to generate a recovery. On its own, the nation-state was judged to be "too small a unit to solve the economic and political problems with which the Western world was confronted." ₈₀ This judgment mirrored the more modest nineteenth-century liberal belief that legitimate claims to statehood could be made only by those national collectivities that were, in the words of J.S. Mill, "sufficiently numerous to be capable of constituting a respectable nationality." ₈₁ Respectibility entailed, among other things, viability as an economic unit. The way out of the puzzle of having to build state strength where only relatively limited strength was currently available-without necessitating heavy U.S. intervention-was to pin hopes on the prospect of regional economic and political integration.

The logic behind the U.S. support for European integration can be viewed as an effort to build nodal points of strength in Western Europe directly through relations of international economic exchange. A "coordinated European economy," as Acheson put it, ₈₂ was thought to be able simulatenously to increase political, economic, and, ultimately, military strength in Europe and to minimize the necessity of the U.S. external state having to directly administer international economic processes in Western Europe. It would also limit some of the historic excesses of European nationalism and mediate the differences among European sovereign states over issues such as the incorporation of Germany into the West. ₈₃ This, after all, was the significance of linking economic integration with political community, as Ernst Haas discussed in a seminal 1961 article on integration. For him, shifting loyalties and expectations to new common institutions could yield a political community where "there is likelihood of internal peaceful change in a setting of contending groups with mutually antagonistic claims." ₈₄

In its deliberations on the ERP, Congress had generally expressed a strong interest in seeing the program tied to a European commitment to integration. But Congress was only willing to offer encouragement for integration in the text of ERP legislation. It refused to make integration an outright requisite for extending aid, which might have required it to construct authoritative and broad-scoped external state organs for this purpose. ₈₅ Legislators such as Taft, whose interests revolved around the internal state, and were thereby suspicious of any external state-building, resisted approving an ERP that would imply a permanent U.S. organizational commitment to Western Europe. ₈₆ This resistance led policymakers to construct an external state program that can be described as auto-extinguishing. That is, by fostering "self-help" and "mutual aid" for an integrating Europe, the necessity of externally deployed organs and aid would disappear, along with the program itself. Its very success would mean its demise. Thus, if liberal minimalization was an important strategic logic of liberal order-building, then auto-extinguishment was an important tactic. It differed from the earlier faith in an order-generating, self-regulating international economic system in that the necessity of significant deployment and regulation was acknowledged by most leaders-albeit to achieve conditions that ultimately were expected to obviate that necessity.

The reasonableness of auto-extinguishment was reinforced by the judgment of policymakers such as Kennan that the economic, and political, problems in Europe were temporary, and perhaps even only a matter of "bottlenecks." ₈₇ Despite reservations in Congress regarding some European state planning projects, the program was designed to work through individual European governments, and thus remained consistent with the preservation of their relative autonomy. By sharing authority over functions such as the distribution of resources (e.g., counterpart funds) with European states, the U.S. had located a formula that appeared to integrate its hegemonic center with the liberal uniaxis in Europe in a manner that would fulfill the imperatives of auto-extinguishment (since European states were expected to become productive economic agents less dependent on U.S. external state discipline).

Another dimension of auto-extinguishment-and minimalization more generally-was the reliance on private interests in the operation of the ERP, rather than just state organs (especially U.S. ones). ₈₈ At its most simple, this meant that the ERP would rely on private channels rather than governments for the procurement of resources. ₈₉ Far more complex was the participation of business representatives, especially of multinational corporations (MNCs), in "a host of private advisory committees," which had important policymaking functions. ₉₀ They were also engaged in explicit campaigns to strengthen national economies and international exchange through efforts such as the Anglo-American Council on Productivity, composed of industry and labor representatives from both the U.S. and Britain. ₉₁ Most important of all, the Economic Cooperation Administration (ECA), the administrative organ of the ERP, was set up as a temporary independent agency, rather than as a part of the State Department, which, Congress feared, would have made a far more institutionalized addition to the external state. To top it off, the president of the Studebaker Corporation, Paul G. Hoffman, was called on to head the agency, instead of Under Secretary of State William Clayton or even Dean Acheson, who at that time had temporarily left public service.

Senator Vandenberg, who was a key player in the design and passage of Marshall Plan legislation, understood exactly what was at stake in building an ERP that was severely limited as an organ for coordinating and administering economic relations-if not also for achieving other political ends-on a more longstanding and broad-scoped basis. He boasted to a constituent that, in the ECA, Congress succeeded in finding "the most non-political organization which has ever been put together on a government project." ₉₂ The point was to avoid an "international WPA," and the key to doing so was the program's administrative character. ₉₃ 3 As Vandenberg had put it at the beginning of 1948:

The question of finding a satisfactory administrative formula is perhaps the biggest single conundrum which the Senate Foreign Relations Committee confronts. We all pretty well agree as to our general objective-namely, that the business side of this essentially business enterprise shall be under the effective control of adequate business brains which shall be specially recruited for the purpose. At the same time we all must agree that ERP virtually becomes the "foreign policy" of the Government in Western Europe for the next four years. Therefore, our "business administration" of ERP has got to be in successful liaison with the Secretary of State and the President wherever foreign policy decisions are involved. We cannot have "two Secretaries of State" [author's italics]. ₉₄

As it turned out, the ERP did not become the "foreign policy" of the U.S. in Western Europe-the militarization of NSC-68 eclipsed it by 1950. What Vandenberg and other policymakers failed to grasp in 1948 was that by constricting the formation of external state organs they were limiting their options in responding to future tensions and weaknesses in Western Europe. The intractability of states regarding the issues of integration, for example, meant there was little chance of any real headway being made through the ERP. In effect, the minimal character of the ERP and its ECA could not contend with the political and economic issues in Europe which included, besides the demanding question of Germany, the control of exchange rates. In addition, European states not only resisted the U.S. model of integration that was being pushed, but also each state had its own approach to integration. The reliance on private power left a limited range of political and economic institutional instruments directly in the hands of the U.S state.

Turning to private power in the international realm in order to help set the terms of liberal relations, however, was consistent with the general effort to construct a liberal order in the context of a plurality of (Western European) states and other actors such as MNCs. The space left for states and corporations in the ERP accorded with the principles of the domains of self-determination, liberal rights, and economic exchange. But it left a provisional ERP little leverage and room for maneuver. ₉₅ As we shall see, the limited character of the institutional repertoire increased the salience of strategic-military relations as an available-and as it turned out propitious-basis for continuing the liberal order-construction process.

Strategy and the Making of the European Recovery Program

The containment of the ERP along the lines described above should not blind us to the very strategic aims to which the program was applied. These aims were quite consistent, from a congressional perspective, with the Marshall Plan's institutional constriction in that its purposes would thereby also be limited to the requirements of stability and security, rather than remain open to any political aims U.S. planners and Western European participants might themselves define. Indeed, as the Truman administration's effort to get congressional approval for the ERP discussed above shows, it was necessary to emphasize the strategic dimensions of the ERP, rather than the benefits ERP would be able to offer the U.S. economy once the program helped Europe to achieve economic recovery. ₉₆

The strategic ramifications of the ERP cut across a number of dimensions: orienting Western European governments and electorates toward the U.S. and the West in general (in part by avoiding the pull of markets in the East); removing the presence of communists in the Italian and French governments; aiding the British ability to maintain their external state commitments; ₉₇ and increasing the incentive of, above all, the French to accept the integration of Germany into the fabric of Western European economic recovery. ₉₈ These things, as discussed in chapter 3, helped to consolidate the liberal uniaxis. Although neither integration nor a solution to the incorporation of Germany on a political level would be achieved, the Marshall Plan did force the Soviet Union to a clearly externalized position by virtue of its refusal to participate. In addition, the consolidation to be achieved through the Marshall Plan made the continuation of East-West trade more palatable to U.S. policymakers by reducing the threat of a drift toward the East. And while the externalization of the Soviet Union, as a result of the Marshall Plan, contributed to a stronger Soviet grip on Eastern Europe, as some policymakers had anticipated, the immediate formation of fixed blocs was avoided. With the continuation and even encouragement under the Marshall Plan of East-West trade, the possibility-however dim it was-of eventually bringing Eastern Europe into the liberal order was at least not completely ruled out. ₉₉ As an initial (August 1948) draft of the most comprehensive statement of U.S. policy prior to NSC-68 put it:

By forcing the Russians either to permit the [Soviet] satellite countries to enter into a relationship of economic collaboration with the west of Europe which would inevitably have strengthened east-west bonds and weakened the exclusive orientation of these countries toward Russia or to force them to remain outside this structure of collaboration at heavy economic sacrifice to themselves, we placed a severe strain on the relations between Moscow and the satellite countries and undoubtedly made more awkward and difficult maintenance by Moscow of its exclusive authority in the satellite capitals. . . . The disaffection of Tito, to which the strain caused by the ERP problem undoubtedly contributed in some measure, has clearly demonstrated that it is possible for stresses in the Soviet-satellite relations to lead to a real weakening and disruption of the Russian domination. ₁₀₀

But the economic security pursued in the Marshall Plan embodied strategic considerations that extended beyond political-economic tactics. ₁₀₁ Even if, as Milward puts it, the goals of the Marshall Plan were mostly political while the means were economic, ₁₀₂ there were military dimensions embodied in the Marshall Plan as well. Even in its earliest conceptualization within the Truman administration, policymakers tied military-industrial capacity, strategic materials, and human capital concerns into the politico-strategic goals of a recovery program in Europe. The "Special 'Ad Hoc' Coordinating Committee" claimed that:

It is important to maintain in friendly hands areas which contain or protect sources of metals, oil and other national resources, which contain strategic objectives, or areas strategically located, which contain a substantial industrial potential, which possess manpower and organized military forces in important quantities, or which for political or psychological reasons enable the U.S. to exert a greater influence for world stability, security and peace. ₁₀₃

The final claim about enabling the U.S. was, of course, an expression of the logic of nodal points of strength, par excellence.

Provisions for the control of strategic resources were ultimately incorporated in Marshall Plan legislation. During the deliberations over the Marshall Plan in Congress, legislators as well as critical commentators, such as Henry Wallace and Bernard Baruch, observed that the commitment to economic security implied a commitment to military security. It was understood that once the U.S. was involved in the former, it had somehow taken responsibility for the region in all its strategic dimensions. ₁₀₄

The military aspects of the Marshall Plan, in practice, never formally extended beyond the provisions for strategic materials. But the introduction of military-strategic considerations into early policy formation, as well as congressional deliberations, reveals that the endeavor to limit the specific application of containment to the economic realm was, in the least, questionable. There was no specified limit to the containment doctrine itself. Military ramifications were not ruled out by the specifics of the doctrine itself, which, as I have argued above, remained universalistic. Moreover, the minimal character of the ECA as an external state organ meant that there would be little difficulty in shifting the emphasis in containment from the economic to the military. That is, the minimum invested institutionally via the ECA, could only facilitate its transformation into the Mutual Security Agency. The ECA and the ERP in general mirrored the doctrine of containment well: it was flexible. As such it could respond to the local demands in the external realm, including above all those for military security, to which we may now turn.

The Transformation of Containment in Western Europe and the Militarization of U.S.-European Relations href="#note10

The Economic Recovery Program and Military Security

In 1949 the perceived need to move substantially beyond economic measures took shape as the U.S. commitment to the North Atlantic Treaty (NAT) and the Mutual Defense Assistance Program (MDAP) providing 1.5 billion dollars in military aid to Western Europe. The latter has been described by historian Timothy Smith as " a significant step in the shift from an economic to a military emphasis in postwar United States foreign policy." ₁₀₅ By 1950, military security would become the predominant form of containment in Western Europe. NAT evolved in January of that year into a formal military organization as the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO). In general, European relations would be significantly militarized along the lines suggested in NSC-68. The remainder of this chapter will be dedicated to tracing the forces propelling this transformation.

We can begin by noting that Henry Wallace and Bernard Baruch were correct about economic commitments leading to military ones. By 1948-49 it was becoming clear to leading U.S. policymakers such as Acheson that "economic measures alone . . . [were] not enough" to achieve the recovery program associated with economic containment. Under Secretary of State Lovett agreed in 1948 that support "in the security and military field" was necessary in order not to undermine the ERP. What Lovett saw as being at stake in such aid was "the psychological effect rather than the intrinsic military value." ₁₀₆ In other words, Western European states and societies needed to obtain a higher level of strategic-military security in order to supplement the effort in the economic security program, to bolster politico-strategic security, and to achieve a confident environment for investment. This view was reinforced by a CIA report in early 1949 that argued that the benefit of military assistance "would be primarily psychological," in that "the will to resist is unlikely to outrun the visible means of resistance." ₁₀₇

When he learned of the intention to construct a formal North Atlantic alliance at the start of 1949, Vandenberg, in response to a constituent, had to grapple with the tensions in the move from economic to military security:

There is no doubt about the fact that it is a "calculated risk" for us to even partially arm the countries of Western Europe. It is also very much a "calculated risk" if we do not. One risk will have to be weighed against the other. You suggest that it will be a safe thing to do "when the economic stability of these countries shall have improved." The basic question we have to settle is whether "economic stability" can precede the creation of a greater sense of physical security. I am inclined to think that "physical security" is a prerequisite to the kind of long-range economic planning which Western Europe requires. The fact remains that the problem is fraught with many hazardous imponderables. ₁₀₈

What is being questioned is not whether the effort to achieve "economic stability" must precede or be preceded by military security, but whether the end-point of stabilization per se must be reached. Vandenberg assumes an initial commitment to economic stabilization. Indeed, for him it is the very problem of economic stabilization that raises the issue of military security.

In Western Europe the development of a military containment program was situated within the context of economic security. The NSC had insisted in mid-1948 that military assistance should be "properly integrated with the ECA." ₁₀₉ While this may not have come to full fruition, by the first half of 1949 the U.S. did begin to coordinate economic and military policy. And the link between economic and military containment was not manifest only in the military assistance program and the NAT commitment. The very unity the Marshall Plan was designed to generate was supposed to increase productivity to a level sufficient for a Western European rearmament that would not sacrifice economic recovery. ₁₁₀

At first glance, the emergence of military security within the context of economic containment merely appears to fit well within the logic of nodal points of strength as applied in Western Europe. It was one more dimension-albeit a supplementary one-in which to construct positions of strength in the liberal order. In another respect, however, the economic security program itself can be viewed as the very force that made military security appear to be necessary. The priority given to the economic security program made a U.S. commitment to underwrite military security for Western Europe appear compelling. U.S. policymakers believed that Western European states themselves would not be willing to compromise their economic recovery efforts by diverting resources to defense. Paul Nitze, the main author of NSC-68, and Kennan's replacement as head of the Policy Planning Staff, was convinced in 1949 that Western Europe feared that a compromise of economic recovery would decrease the popularity of existing governments. ₁₁₁ (His fears appeared to be well grounded in that the government of French Prime Minister Robert Schuman fell in mid-1948 over the issue of increasing the military budget.) Given the minimal nature of the ERP program, there was little that could be done within the institutional frame of economic security to overcome this compromise. The inevitable conclusion from the perspective of Nitze is the kind of "substantial increase in military assistance programs" called for in NSC-68.

Thus, rather than viewing the ERP as having failed to provide security through economic containment, it might be more accurate to recognize that the very commitment to economic security was never far from-and even opened the way up for-a growing commitment to the application of military security in Europe, as Vandenberg had realized. This was why Vandenberg felt he was confronted with "many hazardous imponderables." Indeed, given that the underlying logic of security in Europe was the containment doctrine, there was no specified institutional frame for keeping it limited to economic means. A U.S. commitment to contain communism in Europe could not in practice be circumscribed to the economic sphere. This was very clearly articulated by the State Department just prior to the signing of the NAT:

The North Atlantic Pact is a necessary complement to the broad economic coordination now proceeding under the European Recovery Program. . . . The Pact and the ERP are both essential to the attainment of a peaceful, prosperous, and stable world. The economic recovery of Europe, the goal of the ERP, will be aided by the sense of increased security which the Pact will promote among these countries. . . . On the other hand, a successful ERP is the essential foundation upon which the Pact, and the increased security to be expected from it, must rest. ₁₁₂

NATO and the Politics of International Liberal Relations

Prior to the Korean War there were few effective measures taken by the liberal core to build an Atlantic military organization. This was true despite the emergence of a NAT and Mutual Defence Assistance Program. Military assistance only trickled in and French policymakers were hypersensitive about potential German rearmament and ambivalent about the alliance overall. In addition, given the explicit U.S. commitment to militarily aid and defend Western Europe that a NAT represented, Western European states were reluctant to commit their own budgets to defense. The U.S. commitment to provide military aid and a nuclear deterrent helped reduce differences over the formation of the alliance, such as those associated with French reservations. But it had exactly the opposite affect regarding the goal of building an Atlantic military organization: the incentive for Western European states to do so was diminished. ₁₁₃

The lack of any real military organization-building indicates that the priority Lovett assigned to the psychological over the military effects of a U.S. military commitment was on target. NAT's import at the point of formation was above all political. Indeed, Kennan had observed at the time that a commitment to nuclear deterrence in Europe could have been made without a formal defense treaty like the NAT. Especially since U.S. troops were already in Germany there was "an adequate guarantee that the U.S. will be at war if they are attacked." ₁₁₄ In any event, the nuclear deterrent, according to Kennan, could do little to stop a Soviet troop advance. The better strategy was to use military aid as a leverage to get Western Europe to plan collectively and organize for its own defense. ₁₁₅

While Charles Bohlen, Department of State Counselor, initially agreed with Kennan that a NAT was not necessary, since the likelihood of a Soviet attack at the time seemed very remote, he did come around to point out that it had decidedly political advantages, particularly in its ability to instill confidence among European policymakers in the U.S. commitment to defend Western Europe. ₁₁₆ Kennan in the end went along with the NAT, but did so only reluctantly, and pointed out through a Policy Planning Staff paper that:

. . . the need for military alliances and rearmament on the part of the western Europeans is a subjective one, arising in their own minds as a result of their failure to understand correctly their own position. Their best and most hopeful course of action, if they are to save themselves from communist pressures, remains the struggle for economic recovery and for internal stability. . . . Compared to this, intensive rearmament constitutes an uneconomic and regrettable diversion of effort. A certain amount of rearmament can be subjectively beneficial to western Europe. But if rearmament proceeds at any appreciable cost to European recovery, it can do more harm than good. ₁₁₇

A subjective sense of confidence was only, for Kennan, a component of the wider interest in building stable nodal points of strength in Europe that began with economic security. But what Kennan did not see at the time was that by legitimating the need for confidence, the U.S. was moving down a slippery slope, since-as a subjective phenomenon-its boundaries were dependent on the very European policymakers and opinion leaders who were demanding to be confidently secure. European confidence in a U.S. deterrent was a problem that would continually plague U.S. policymakers throughout the Cold War. But in the late 1940s this problem was especially acute, given the possibility of resistance to external state commitments by isolationist internal state interests represented by Senator Taft. A formal commitment would instill confidence in Western Europe that a U.S. resolve to defend the region would not be undermined by U.S. domestic resistance. Western Europeans had only to look at the temporary status of the ERP and the struggle over that program to see how elusive such commitments could be.

Interestingly, Kennan's initial views about deterrence paralleled on one level Taft's alternative to a NAT: a "unilateral commitment to Western Europe" through the nuclear air power umbrella. ₁₁₈ Although the administration achieved a congressional commitment to both a NAT and military aid-the latter of which Taft, unlike Kennan, was decidedly against-its reliance on deterrence as the chief element of U.S. strategic posture in Europe resembled isolationist military strategy. Deterrence, which became such a cornerstone of Western policy, did double duty in the context of liberal hegemony and the external state. It satisfied Western European policymakers who wanted to minimize the pressures on their states to provide for Western Europe's defense, at the same time that it was at least palatable to internal state critics like Taft who sought to keep budgets low and avoid an extensive construction of European military organization. ₁₁₉

More central to the concerns here is the overcoming of divisions that had become apparent in the ERP. The program was unable to provide the political context for the consolidation-or "solidarity," as one recalls Kennan had called for-that policymakers in general had taken to be a sine qua non of order-building. ₁₂₀ Britain opposed economic integration; France was reluctant to accept a West German state integrated into Western Europe; and continued economic difficulties coupled with the Czech coup-when in early 1948 a Stalinist leadership grabbed control from a more moderate government-had eroded European confidence among Western European governments that sufficient security institutions were in place to resist Soviet pressures. ₁₂₁

As implied in the above discussion, the issue of West German integration was central to the role of the NAT regarding liberal order-construction. It was, above all, the U.S. desire to reestablish a nodal point of strength in West Germany-which could help relieve the U.S. of much of its economic and military responsibilities in Europe-that had led to the problem of how to integrate this newly emerging state into Western Europe in the first place. Acheson was willing to rely on a NAT to assuage French fears regarding a revitalized Germany. The liberal uniaxis could add an important member, West Germany, without having to risk the exit of another important member, France. The acceptance of Germany was made tolerable within the institutional frame of a NAT, which assuaged fears of an independent West Germany threatening France. ₁₂₂ European representatives themselves had lobbied Senator Vandenberg in the fall of 1948 for a U.S. commitment to the North Atlantic alliance to "protect economic recovery and integrate a restored Germany." ₁₂₃

What is at stake here is the endeavor to locate a common institutional arena that could serve as a forum for collaboration for states along the liberal uniaxis. If this could not be accomplished through the ERP, then with the emergence of a NAT the common cooperative framework of the liberal core could be shifted onto the military plane. Ambassador Harriman said it best in 1949 in a meeting of U.S. ambassadors and other leading U.S. policymakers:

We should have a fresh look at the whole problem of cooperation with our European partners. The mutual security commitments of the Atlantic Pact seem to offer the best basis on which to undertake a concerting of action. Much had already been done through ECA channels but this method would become less effective without concerted multilateral action, although the ECA approach will continue to be pushed vigorously until an alternative is agreed upon. The Atlantic pact machinery would provide room for three important aspects of controls which were necessarily absent from the ECA approach. These were: adequate emphasis on security and political factors and the tackling of control of industrial know-how. ₁₂₄

The formation of a NAT meant that Britain's resistance to pursuing economic integration-in part because of its Commonwealth interests-did not necessarily have to lead to the absence of a collaborative institutional frame which was inclusive of all the major liberal states in Europe. It is easy to forget-especially in the 1990s-that in the immediate postwar years cooperation in Europe was hardly guaranteed. As Harriman so clearly pointed out, the militarization of liberal relations that took place in Western Europe at the end of the 1940s opened up the possibility of basing political-economic cooperation on military-strategic collaboration.

The Soviet Threat and the Militarization of the West

So far I have concentrated on the forces associated with liberal order-building that helped make the militarization of the West a compelling course of action for policymakers. These forces-and the others I will consider below-are notably complex. ₁₂₅ Conspicuously missing from the discussion is the simple proposition that militarization occurred because of a growing sense in the West that the Soviet threat was becoming more menacing and militaristic. By 1948 the Soviet threat was, very much, on the minds of U.S. policymakers. Indeed the general explanatory scheme guiding this study implies that by 1948 we are smack in the middle of the inner boxes of figure 4.1, representing confrontation and Cold War.

In one respect, posing the Soviet threat as a counter-explanation sets up a false dichotomy, since its rise has been attributed here to forces associated with liberal order-construction, especially Soviet externalization and strategic reduction. I have, moreover, argued that the Soviet threat can be identified as a function of liberal order-building more justifiably than as a function of bipolarity. Even so, it is still necessary to sort out how liberal order-construction shaped militarization in a policymaking context where concern with the Soviet threat was pervasive.

From the perspective of Waltzian neorealism and the liberal order-building process, one should recall, the (immediate) stakes of the Soviet threat are the same: the fate of Western Europe. For Waltz, a Soviet-dominated Western Europe threatens to throw the distribution or balance of power toward the Soviet Union, whose thereby enhanced capabilities would increase the physical insecurity of the United States. U.S. fear over the fate of Western Europe was a function of a more direct concern with the Soviet Union. For me it is exactly the opposite. Fear of the Soviet Union in the 1940s was primarily a function of concern about the fate of Western Europe and ultimately liberal order-building.

To some, fear of the Soviets and fear for Western Europe may appear to have melded into one overall constellation of threat. But this reduction is carried out at the risk not only of failing to distinguish among different explanatory forces leading to this point, but also of missing the ways that the interplay between threat and order-building in Europe developed in the Cold War, which were explored especially in chapter 3.

This does not mean that in the late 1940s there was a lack of concern with the possibility of war with the Soviet Union and the damage a Soviet state, made more powerful by garnering Western European resources, could unleash against the U.S. Rather it means concern with that damage-and thus the possibility of war-emerged because the deployment of a U.S. external state for liberal order-building brought the U.S. in confrontation with what came to be seen as a challenging and hostile Soviet state, which might generate "incidents" or "miscalculations" leading to war.

This logic emerged clearly in NSC-20/4, the leading U.S. policy document on the Soviet Union until NSC-68. ₁₂₆ It was composed and approved in the second half of 1948 and it also points to other connections between liberal order-building and threat. The document begins by portraying a Soviet state bent on long-term global domination and more immediate term "political conquest of western Europe" through the usual subversive means short of war. While it is argued that the Soviet state was attempting to build its military strength-for what the Soviets believe is an "inevitable" war with the West down the road-the possibility that the Soviets could invade the U.S. even after years of build-up was dismissed. And while Soviet capacity to overrun Western Europe was expected to continue for years, the "probability" of the Soviets doing so via "planned Soviet armed actions" could at best not be "ruled out" (that is, because of the possibility of "miscalculations" and "incidents"). ₁₂₇ Moreover, even if the Soviets were to undertake such an action the document points out that they would have difficulty holding-and therefore exploiting-the territory because it would strain their economy, rendering them vulnerable to total Soviet disintegration. Thus, the Soviet threat remained for the most part a political one: political domination mostly through political means. (Interestingly, policymakers were reading in the need of the Soviet Union to rely on nodal points of strength for a Soviet external state to function well.)

But even this political domination was seen as having little chance of success in Western Europe, leading the Soviet state to take more of a defensive posture than anything else. ₁₂₈ What was halting their march to global conquest was the "resistance of the United States," which was "recognized by the USSR as a major obstacle to the obtainment of" their goals. ₁₂₉ This resistance was nothing other than the economic and increasingly military security measures undertaken to strengthen Western European states and societies that I have discussed up till this point and all of which were part of the liberal order-building process. Thus, by building a liberal order in the form it had undertaken, the U.S. had thrown itself in the way of the Soviet Union, which might then use its military power in a war that could break out exactly because this liberal order effort increased the risk of miscalculations and incidents. In effect, liberal order-building was a threat to the U.S. Even so, the proscribed policy course was to expand the pressure on the Soviet state. Why this policy made sense will become clear immediately below. It should be noted here that the aim of pressure was not only to reduce Soviet power but to turn the Soviet state into a good member of the constructed international order so that it would "conform with the purposes and principles in the UN charter [sic]." ₁₃₀

One of the most vivid instances of how liberal order-building had thrown the U.S. and Western Europe more generally into a threatening position was the Berlin crisis in mid-1948. In response to a Soviet road and rail blockade of West Berlin, the U.S. airlifted supplies. Although this event has been seen as the first direct military confrontation in Europe between the U.S. and Soviet states, it took an Army Chief of Staff, General Omar Bradley, to point out at that time that "the whole Berlin crisis has arisen as a result of two actions on the part of the Western Powers. These actions are (1) implementation of the decisions agreed in the London Talks on Germany and (2) institution of currency reform." ₁₃₁ In other words (as briefly discussed in chapter 3) the West had taken upon itself a number of crucial policy turns, in a series of meetings in London in the spring of 1948-from which the Soviet Union, a fellow occupier and former negotiator over Germany, was excluded. These turns led to the consolidation of Western zones (laying the groundwork for a separate west German state) and their intended integration into Western economic reconstruction efforts, especially through (Western) control of Germany's industrial center (the Ruhr). However justified Western policymakers believed these actions to be, they generally held that it was Soviet "resistance" to Western policies that made "miscalculations" and "incidents" more likely. French policymakers in 1948 were thinking about the possibilities of a Soviet invasion not so much because of any direct and increasing tension between the French and Soviet states. The main problem for French policymakers was a sense that growing tensions between the U.S. and the Soviet Union over issues such as Germany could lead to violent collateral aggression against France. ₁₃₂ Similarly, a memorandum summarizing the result of talks between Western policymakers in Washington in the summer of 1948 reasoned that immediate aid should be forthcoming from the U.S. if a country was attacked, "[i]nasmuch as the conclusion of such a treaty [NAT] might increase the existing tension with the Soviet Government." ₁₃₃ In his memoirs Kennan puzzled about the fears of Western European policymakers:

Why did they wish to divert attention from a thoroughly justified and promising program of economic recovery by emphasizing a danger which did not actually exist but which might indeed be brought into existence by too much discussion of the military balance and by the ostentatious stimulation of a military rivalry? ₁₃₄

He seems to have ignored the security ramifications of the very political and economic measures taken by the U.S. that he was so much in favor of-measures that could generate, as in Germany, this type of danger as well.

A real shift in the way security was being articulated vis-à-vis liberal order-making is noticeable. In the spring of 1947 the special ad hoc committee report that thought through the strategy of the Marshall Plan resolutely declared that U.S. "[n]ational security can be maintained most effectively through the rebuilding of a stable peaceful world." ₁₃₅ NSC-20/4 shows that by late 1948 it is exactly the pursuit of security (e.g., resisting Soviet pressures), through the building of a peaceful and stable liberal order, that is putting the U.S.-and Western Europe for that matter-at risk. Walter Lippmann captured a dimension of this calculus when he argued in a long 1948 memo to John Foster Dulles that the formation of a NAT would effectively guarantee that the Soviet Union would remain in central Europe, ₁₃₆ thereby crystalizing the dread it was in part designed to relieve. ₁₃₇₄ This calculus was pushed to near absurd limits by those policymakers who, like U.S. military planners and the French foreign ministry, believed "the augmentation" of Western European material life "achieved by the ERP" heightened the risks and costs of their capture. ₁₃₈ In other words, the very success of liberal order-building efforts in Western Europe increases the threat to the U.S. in that the enhancement of resources that flows from those efforts could be used against the U.S. The "loss" of Western Europe, thereby, matters to the degree that the social and economic dimensions of order-building by Europeans with U.S. aid can continue, ensuring that there is something worth losing.

Waltz may argue that all of this is merely a reflection of the global reach and power of the U.S. butting up against that of the Soviet Union. But to make such an argument Waltz would have to turn his theory on its head. Threat or fear of the powerful other would be emerging from the friction caused by global projects (such as liberal order-building), which powerful states can pursue, rather than the reverse (the powerful state's fear of the powerful other leads to projects and friction), as Waltz would have it. It certainly will not do to retreat as a realist to a Morgenthauian position and claim that the pursuit of power is what generates projects and thereby threat-producing friction. This only begs the question of what the drive for power could mean as a pure motive for a state, outside of the context that a project could constitute.

But we are still nowhere near the deeper links between the Soviet threat and Western militarization. To get there we can begin by noting that the strategic reduction of the Soviet Union to a control-seeking, hostile opponent in U.S. thinking, reflected in statements such as NSC-20/4, severely constricted the possibilities of agency for the Soviet state. As the Soviets enhanced their power in the eyes of U.S. policymakers-most notably by exploding their own atomic bomb in August 1949-their status as an strategic opponent was reinforced. ₁₃₉ The reduction made it easy for U.S. policymakers to reject as a mere ploy a Soviet effort to negotiate over Germany after the Berlin crisis. ₁₄₀ (Recall that what was so threatening about negotiation was the possibility of the Soviet Union influencing and shaping the construction of liberal order.) If the Soviet state's agency was so constricted, then it was only the West that had any serious range of agency. However, rather than being a blessing, this was seen as a sort of curse for the West. The problem was that Western policymakers feared that they would not be up to the task of resistance, especially since liberal order-specifically in the liberal core-opened the way for contest, autonomy, and democratic culture. Perhaps the most recognizable Western "self-fear" was the doubt Western European states had about the U.S. commitment to defend the region, given the recalcitrance of Congress about external commitments so often referred to above.

In NSC-20/4 this Western self-fear emerges in an almost bizarre fashion. Domestic and international conditions in the West are literally treated as Soviet threat-capabilities (not just as factors that enhance the Soviet threat). These include vulnerability to subversion, military intimidation, or even psychological warfare that would "prevent or retard the recovery of and cooperation among western European countries"; a relatively tolerant society that allows for the political operation of communists; ₁₄₁ and the potential for vacillation, appeasement, "wasteful usage of . . . resources in time of peace," and "political and social disunity." ₁₄₂ The U.S. feared that Europe would not be strong enough, unified enough, and willful enough to withstand the pressures and temptations of the Soviet Union. Dean Acheson, for instance, argued regarding the integration of Italy into the NAT that "from a political point of view an unattached Italy was a source of danger." ₁₄₃ A relatively autonomous state, even one as intervened in as Italy, could through democratic forces choose a neutral or "Eastern" course, unless constraints were in place, such as a NAT alliance.

There was another dimension to self-fear-the fear that democratic publics would not fear enough. To achieve U.S. aims, NSC-20/4 required that the state "[k]eep the U.S. public fully informed and cognizant of the threats to . . . national security so that it will be prepared to support the measures we must accordingly adopt." ₁₄₄ This type of concern had a more far-reaching relevance to Western militarization. That was the perceived necessity of putting the West, and most particularly the U.S., on a permanent war-like footing during peacetime. NSC-20/4 boldly asserted that it was "essential that this government formulate general objectives which are capable of sustained pursuit both in time of peace and in the event of war." ₁₄₅ The rationale that stands behind this assertion was expressed in the first draft of NSC-20 emerging from the Kennan-led Policy Planning Staff. There it was argued that "a democracy cannot effect, as the totalitarian state sometimes does, a complete identification of its peacetime and wartime objectives." ₁₄₆ Democracies generally separate these two "times" and maintain an "aversion to war as a method of foreign policy." Nonetheless, a democratic public could be emotionalist during war, preventing balanced long-term planning. The trick would be "to reduce as far as possible the gap between" wartime and peacetime policymaking, rendering war and the methods short of war as more of a continuum of security tactics. Thus, the memorandum referred to Clausewitz's famous dictum about war being a "continuation of policy, intermingled with other means." ₁₄₇ What was necessary was that the U.S.-and the West by implication-be kept "in a state of unvacillating mental preparedness," as claimed in the second NSC-20 draft. ₁₄₈ All of us who lived through the Cold War take this preparedness for granted. But the point to note here is that a democracy would need to effect a program of "preparedness" exactly because it had no built-in formula of "complete identification" as totalitarian states could have. Moreover, a democracy, possessing powerful forces of opinion drawing it away from such a stance, requires special vigilance.

By building a 'total preparedness' approach to foreign policy, the problem with Western agency would be attenuated, since the program of security could prevail over choices, alternatives, and challenges. One way to understand this response to self-threat is as the final strategic reduction of the West itself-and liberal order-as a capability of readiness and strength, rendering intentions rather moot as in the case of the Soviet state. The fear of themselves (e.g., their potential weakness and tolerance) would be contained in that it would be no easy matter for parliaments and democratic public to opt out of, intentionally, a "long term state of readiness." ₁₄₉ Thus, we see the reason for the proscribed policy course in NSC-20/4 of expanding pressure on the Soviet state, discussed immediately above. A militarizing campaign of pressure was far less risky for the political life of the Atlantic community than alternatives such as serious negotiations with the Soviet Union.

The notion that fear and anxiety have shaped U.S. foreign policy has been put forth by commentators for years. ₁₅₀ This fear has typically been viewed more strictly as a function of changes in external forces that render the West more vulnerable (e.g., the "missile gap"). Far less attention has been paid to what I have emphasized here, a fear of the self. ₁₅₁ By emphasizing this fear and, thereby, contextualizing the Soviet threat as such, we gain some insight into what the authors of NSC-68, writing over a year later than those of NSC-20, meant when they stated for dramatic, edifying purposes: "Even if there were no Soviet Union we would face the great problem of the free society, accentuated many fold in this industrial age, of reconciling order, security, the need for participation, with the requirements of freedom." ₁₅₂ These were indeed the problems of agency in liberal modernity.

Integration and Militarization in Western Europe

Reflect for a moment on the position of U.S. policymakers. They faced a plurality of states, each with democratic publics, powerful interest groups, and politicians in precarious positions of power. The policymakers of these liberal states, therefore, had to ensure that their state and society had the autonomy to set the terms of its social existence so that the various interests could be navigated. If these states had been nonliberal and authoritarian they would no doubt also seek to set those terms autonomously as well. Indeed, it is not at all clear that negotiation or cooperation would be any harder or easier, since centralized power could easily lead to a recalcitrance over a given issue deemed vital that may not be tenable in a liberal state. It is likely to depend on the specific situation. The crucial difference for liberal states is that they comprise multiple domains of liberal modernity, within each of which actors must be autonomous enough to shape and contest practices and relations. For authoritarian states, facilitating the determination and contestation of the character and terms of market relations, civil rights, and democratic governance by relatively autonomous actors is a problem. For liberal states it is part of organized political life. If autonomy has any real meaning for an authoritarian state, it is the autonomy of the state per se that matters. The practical implications of this is that, for issue areas such as trade, a liberal state has to come to terms with its own market actors, their specific interests, and relations with other market actors including labor and the perceived demands and interests of a broader democratic public, and then deal with other states with the same pressures and so on. Of course, all states have domestic interests with which to contend. ₁₅₃ But only liberal states legitimize, within distinct limits, the relative autonomy of different actors across a wide array of domains within which the question of justice and right are at least capable of being politicized. They face the further problem that outcomes and processes in one domain are intertwined with those of another, as any politician who has had to explain economic crises to an electorate could attest. International order-makers are thus forced to devise mechanisms for allowing states to navigate these pressures. Yet, at the same time, the international coordination and construction of relations and policy-i.e., order-making-must proceed, at least so that strength can be augmented within a relevant zone of order.

This is the quandary. We have nodal points of strength, based on the legitimacy of the very forces of liberal life discussed above, that can undermine strength and give one grounds for deep self-doubt and fear. We have states that want autonomy and yet lack confidence in their ability alone or together (through integration) to make themselves secure. States-coming back full circle-are not in a position to impose this security-making on societal actors that covet (along with policymakers) their economic development, the progress of which is in turn important for (economic) security.

As Harriman's comments earlier underscore, it must have been very tempting for U.S. policymakers to turn to the Atlantic alliance for a way to deal with these tensions. Many of the reasons why I have already considered. Indeed, it was exactly because liberal order-building engendered so many forces and tensions that there could never be any single force or factor to which the increasing militarization of relations could be attributed. This is the reason why I have adopted a functional approach. What would it mean to say that the militarization of the West was caused by something? As I hope the complexity of the above analysis conveys, that militarization was tied to so many processes and outcomes that looking for "the cause" of NATO is like looking for the cause of a state. ₁₅₄ It is not just that things were overdetermined. Western militarization was occurring in the variegated context of liberal order-building. Here and there policymakers advanced militarization by such acts as reaching out for the political dimensions of NATO, avoiding unwanted consequences through military aid, "war-itizing" peacetime, and so on.

In the remainder of this section, I want to push the connection between integration and security a bit further to show that the transformation of the U.S. external state into a predominantly military presence-marked vividly, for example, by the displacement of U.S. economic recovery missions by U.S. military aid missions-flowed specifically out of the search for a way to come to terms with the quandaries inherent in the pursuit of liberal strength.

To start, Vandenberg feared that U.S. military aid would undermine Western Europe's own efforts at security-building. The trick for him would lie in "making . . . military aid wholly supplementary to the self-help and mutual aid defense programs of these other countries. In other words, it must be their last reliance rather than their first reliance in their own physical defenses." ₁₅₅ Yet making it a "first reliance" was a compelling strategy in the context of the construction of international liberal order. Western European states would not have to face the pressures of constructing unified European strength. They could import it. By curtailing, as explored above, their own direct responsibility for their own security, and avoiding a program of extensive intra-European security cooperation to deal with both Germany and the Soviet Union, Western European states limited the necessity of having to make the greater sacrifices in state autonomy that would accompany an effort to build inter-European organs of military and economic power sufficient to resist perceived threats. The political effect of the U.S. nuclear deterrent was "to limit the extent of military, political, and economic cooperation and neglect the development of war plans." ₁₅₆ Moreover, as a basic institutional frame, NATO could allay the tension between diverging state interests and the demands of economic and political collaboration inherent in an international liberal order. Instead of constructing an extensive cooperative institutional order, Western European states cooperated with each other and the U.S. just enough to help construct a militarized U.S. hegemonic center. While, in the ensuing decades, Western European states did manage to cooperate in NATO, this cooperation was minimal in comparison with what would have been necessary without the U.S. Even as late as the end of the 1980s, Barry Buzan could observe that "U.S. hegemony both underwrites much of the political and military coordination achieved by Western Europe, and prevents the development of higher levels of Western European cohesion." ₁₅₇ Rather than displacing the political-economic integration that was the goal of the ERP-which was something that both Kennan and John Foster Dulles feared-it simply deferred it. ₁₅₈

It is important to keep in mind that NATO did not in itself simply prevent or prompt the integration of Western Europe. Its ramifications for European integration were much more complex. First, it made it possible for Western European states that were pursuing integration in other dimensions to proceed without confronting head on, and in a compressed time frame, the pressures of more in-depth integration along political and economic lines. ₁₅₉ In effect, by allaying these pressures as well as many of the differences between states in Western Europe touched on above, NATO left open the possibility of establishing economic cooperative institutions such as the European Coal and Steel Community that were integrative and yet violated only minimally sovereign state interests. NATO afforded states the time to work out differences between them. ₁₆₀ This matters profoundly for liberal states, which face politically mobilized groups and democratic publics. Thus, cooperation could continue to take place in the wake of the ERP on an inter-state basis, rather than necessitating supranational institution-building.

Second, it limited the necessity of Western European states themselves creating a strong link between the spheres of security and economy. That link turned out to be left, as Charles Maier points out, to the U.S. to make with limited success in the early 1950s in its effort to get Europe to increase its defense contribution. ₁₆₁ By limiting cooperation mostly to the economic sphere Western European states ensured that it would take place in the context of interstate relations. It is the state in international liberalism that has stood at the juncture of international exchange and the national market economy. To have injected heavy demands for security cooperation into this configuration would have necessitated the construction of common security organs such as those associated with the failed European Defense Community (EDC), the French effort (beginning in 1950) to lay the groundwork for a cooperative European military force. It also would have required a coordination of fiscal and welfare policies that would have considerably constrained the scope of Western European states. With the U.S. taking responsibility for this linkage, Western Europe could trade off the necessity of constructing heavy, collaborative security mechanisms for lighter forms of U.S. hegemonic encroachments and interventions, which could be resisted without necessarily sacrificing European security. Harriman perhaps said it best when he argued at the fall 1949 meeting of ambassadors: "The Atlantic Pact concept should be the umbrella under which all measures agreed upon should be taken; that security, and not economic integration or political integration, should be the point of departure of our policy." ₁₆₂

In effect, what NATO did was provide a "space" for Western European states to work out their political and economic difficulties at both the national and international levels, especially, as Maier has observed, through the "politics of productivity." As an alliance in which power was overlaid from above by the U.S., NATO removed much of the security question from the domain of democratic debate and contestation (an outcome that might have come back to haunt these states in the 1980s as pan-European social movements did contest "the security question" loudly). Indeed, this was a major political manifestation of the curtailment of direct responsibility for security in Western Europe. While Western European states would exercise influence over the character of NATO strategy and weapon deployments throughout the Cold War, ultimate responsibility for the production and maintenance of the security system per se did not lie with these states. ₁₆₃ As such, NATO permitted Western European states to narrow the content of inter-state and -society relations to the technologies of production and to mechanisms of liberal monetary and trade policy. These states would not need to depend on each other for much else. Acheson articulated this strategy in 1951 when he told Congress that "behind the shield of military power which we and our allies are creating, the techniques of growth and expansion are being maintained intact." ₁₆₄ Indeed, the post-World War II period has witnessed in Europe the highest degree of institution-building in history, leading to the European Community. But the scope of such institutions has been mostly limited to technical-economic issues. (The difficulty of moving beyond this horizon formed in part the basis for a loss of faith in the possibilities of political integration in the 1960s.) This has preserved the sovereignty of the state over social and political policy. As a result, the embedded liberalism observed by Ruggie was facilitated by the alliance. Given the common discipline of a Cold War and the reduction of inter-state relations to political-strategic concerns, a narrow technological focus in the economic sphere, which, as Maier shows, reduced the vulnerability of liberal politics at the state level, was more tenable.

The provision of confidence through NATO and military aid represented a process of relieving Western European states of the necessity of having to provide for their own security. They did not need to become deeply involved in securing the region as might otherwise have been necessary. Strategy could be displaced to the global confrontation of the U.S. and the Soviet Union. Western Europe could concentrate on its domestic political and economic difficulties. As David Calleo points out, being distanced from "high politics" provided Western Europe opportunity to trade with Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union, since tensions were not as likely to interfere as in the case of U.S.-East trade. Calleo also shows that NATO allowed Western European states to free up resources not only for their own economic concerns, but also for their own military concerns: Britain could focus on Commonwealth defense, while France could focus on its colonies. And the emergent West German state had more room to consider rearmament within the NATO framework. ₁₆₅ In response to this very possibility, France could successfully propose the Schuman Plan in order to forge common economic ties with Germany and the rest of Europe. NATO allowed for the European Coal and Steel Community to be separated from the direct pressures of security, and provided a common bond for economic integration. ₁₆₆ Thus, the irony is that the militarization of Western European relations allowed states there to construct a space at the domestic and interstate levels that was distanced from the realm of security.

The reliance of the liberal core chiefly on U.S. military power and leadership meant that the transformation from economic to military security could occur with a minimum of international institution-building, even cooperative military institution-building. In this transformation the U.S. external state in Europe was transformed from the ECA into the Mutual Security Agency and varied U.S. expenditures in the region were transformed into military procurements. Except for standard diplomatic machinery, the U.S. external state in Europe was more or less reduced to NATO and covert organs such as the CIA. In this respect, the institutional legacy of the ECA was indeed limited as many in Congress had intended.

Conclusions

The authors of NSC-68 seemed to comprehend very well the vulnerability of a liberal order to its own political dynamics and the benefits of an emphasis on military power. The slow and open nature of democratic government and the relations between such governments made "superior" military power a necessity to compensate for the advantages that secretive and speedy dictatorial governments were thought to possess. A decided military advantage lowers the risks for especially vulnerable liberal democracies of operating "on a narrow margin of strength." ₁₆₇ In a very real sense, the authors of NSC-68 wanted to replicate the advantages of authoritarian systems-their secrecy and minimum consultation with democratic publics and other governments-by constructing a military security sphere that was similarly insulated. ₁₆₈ Not only in Western Europe, but also in the U.S., the realm of security grew to be increasingly insulated from the pressures of democratic processes. This development should serve as a warning to those who would place their faith in democracy as a check on the military sphere of states. One thing that was so brilliant about NSC-68 was the way that the authors could locate a huge militarization program in the context of liberal order and its principles. They could rely on the ability of liberal states to accommodate such a program based on the way that spheres of social practice-in this case security-could be defined out of the reach of liberal principles. Kennan's alternative to the call in NSC-68 for a massive military build-up of conventional and nuclear forces, i.e., to re-emphasize "economic, diplomatic, and psychological instruments of containment," ₁₆₉ was misplaced given the political dynamics that stood behind liberal militarization.

A rising predominance of strategic-military relations in the liberal order would naturally provide fertile ground for moves toward the formation of an actual military organization as the North Atlantic Treaty was transformed "from a psychological shield into a military one" (i.e., NATO). ₁₇₀ The militarization of political relations in 1949 and 1950 meant that the liberal uniaxis would be highly sensitive to strategic-military events such as the Soviet atomic bomb and the Korean War. That is, given the constriction of the international political realm associated with the strategic reduction, there were few modes of political adjustment available in the alliance-and between it and the Soviet Union-to provide a basis for response to changes and shifts in the strategic-military realm. With NATO as the only institution of political cohesion for the liberal order in Europe, no real alternative realms of response to Soviet foreign policy at the end of the 1940s existed other than the military-strategic. The preferred answer was to help push militarization further along, especially in the face of increasingly salient self-fears. As the authors of NSC-68 understood, the North Atlantic Treaty lacked a real military organization to tie states together in organizational-material terms. This lack made the alliance vulnerable because of a perceived potential absence of resolve that might pave the way for European declarations of neutrality:

The frustration of Kremlin design . . . cannot be accomplished by us alone. . . . Strength at the center, in the United States, is only the first of two essential elements. The second is that our allies and potential allies do not as a result of a sense of frustration or of Soviet intimidation drift into a course of neutrality eventually leading to Soviet domination. ₁₇₁

Military commitments would have to be increased for Western Europe as well as the United States. Western Europe would be militarized in a material-organizational as well as an international political-strategic form. Doubling back in a circular fashion, the militarization of political relations in Western Europe resonated throughout the world: indeed, a major reason for fighting the Korean war was to solidify "American prestige and the credibility of its commitments," above all, in Europe. ₁₇₂ Ultimately, it doubled back on itself again, as Lawrence Kaplan points out, by serving "to denigrate the possibilities for detente which the death of Stalin and subsequent changes in the Soviet Union after 1953 might have allowed." ₁₇₃

The issues raised in this chapter can help to clarify some of the stakes in the debate over whether the militarization of containment began before or after the commencement of the Korean War. ₁₇₄ Any judgment depends on what militarization is understood to be. It is clear that the actual deployment of weapons and troops (or military build-up) did not reach the levels we associate with the Cold War until the Korean War. However, along the dimensions of militarization I have stressed in this study there was considerable progress. Military-strategic relations become an increasingly salient dimension of international relations among states and societies. The emergence of NATO as the only extensive institutional link between the U.S. and Western Europe, the increasing emphasis on military over economic security, and the casting of a U.S. nuclear deterrent over Europe are among the transformations discussed above that marked the militarization of the politics of international liberal relations prior to the Korean War. It was these very transformations that permitted states in Western Europe to distance themselves from security concerns. That distance, tested as it has been by the Bosnian crisis, still haunts Western Europe and the Atlantic alliance more generally.

Abstracting out the attributes and effects of military force as it emerged in the making of liberal order, three dimensions come into view:

1. Military force achieves and maintains international order without encompassing a wide range of social practices. As the currency of systemwide political relations, it minimizes direct entrance into the economic and political practices associated with the domains of liberal modernity. Thus, it can be perceived by agents in a liberal order as a realm of international politics, which interferes minimally in liberal practice and leaves them the most space for action.

2. It minimizes permanent institution-building. Deploying military force and establishing military institutions is much easier than creating formal social and political institutions. When crises do arise, military force is a particularly attractive form of power to have at the ready. This attribute corrects for the lack of mediative institutions at the international level.

3. Military force minimizes the degree to which basic international political bonds can be politically contested. Given the "concentrated-coercive" nature of military organization, ₁₇₅ liberal domain actors at the international and domestic levels-such as democratic publics-generally have a minimum of access to the relevant decisionmaking apparatus. This insulation minimizes the claims that individuals, groups, representative bodies, and states can make on the military force deployed by a hegemon in a liberal order. As a result, there is little chance of agents making demands on the organs of military force, which might otherwise lead to more authoritative and broad-scoped institutional relationships. ₁₇₆

When these dimensions are considered in toto, they imply that the creation of space for agents in Western Europe depended on limiting access to the very social form (military power) that produced that space. The transfer of authority in exchange for security, a well-ordered society, and juristic freedoms is a familiar trade-off in the construction of a Western polity. But even the individuals who hypothetically choose out of fear, according to Locke, to construct political society and renounce individual sovereignty retained, collectively, ultimate sovereignty and established a representative legislature. ₁₇₇ While Western European policymakers and sometimes even protesting democratic publics shaped Cold War security structures, these forces were nothing like the access available to resourceful groups and individuals to shape state policy in other realms. The difference between the Lockean trade-off and that of international liberal order may stem from the character of fear. Fear in Locke's state of nature was based on the vulnerability of the individual in a potentially hostile environment. Fear in the making of international liberal order was based on a fear of the self and those threats engendered by the very formation of a political society.

Notes

Note 1: Etzold and Gaddis, ed., Containment, pp. 435-36. Back.

Note 2: Although this commitment has been recognized across the historiography of the Cold War, the most concentrated consideration is Pollard, Economic Security, pp. 4, 55-57, 133. Pollard points out that the call for a militarized version of containment contained in the 1946 report to the president by Clifford, "American Relations," was shelved. The report (p. 479), however, not only recognized the value of economic security but also argued that supplying "military support in case of attack is a last resort; a more effective barrier to communism is strong economic support." Back.

Note 3: Quote from Department of State, FRUS, 1949, vol. 1, pp. 254-55. See also Pach, "Arming the Free World," p. 389; and Kaplan, A Community of Interests, pp. 21-22. The containment logic of economic security is considered in Messer, "Paths not Taken," p. 298; and, of course, Pollard, Economic Security, p. 133. Back.

Note 4: On Eastern Europe see Lundestad, America's Non-Policy Towards Eastern Europe, p. 223. Back.

Note 5: Cited in Gardner, Sterling-Dollar Diplomacy, p. 9. Back.

Note 6: Cited in Pollard, Economic Security, p. 13. Back.

Note 7: Gaddis, Strategies of Containment, p. 83. Back.

Note 8: The dynamics of this concentration are explored by Freeland, Origins of McCarthyism, ch. 5. See Arkes, Bureaucracy, p. 102, on the congressional pro-business approach in the Marshall Plan and its basis in the "trade leads to security" formula. Back.

Note 9: The commitment to work with Western Europe regarding both the domestic and international economic dimensions was predicated, in part, on its feasibility. In other words, as I argued above, economic and political conditions conducive to liberalization were already in place to some degree in Western Europe. In Asia, in contrast, a Marshall Plan-type program was rejected in part because of a perceived lack of feasibility. See Borden, The Pacific Alliance, p. 110. Back.

Note 10: Clifford, "American Relations," p. 479. See also Woods and Jones, Dawning of the Cold War, p. 155. Milward, Recovery of Western Europe, pp. 59-60, explores some of the reasoning behind integration as a spur to economic growth and thus "pluralist democracy" in Europe. Back.

Note 11: Cited in Gardner, Sterling-Dollar Diplomacy, p. 11. That type of faith was also echoed in the thought of David Mitrany. See his Working Peace System. Back.

Note 12: See Maier, "Politics of Productivity," p. 31; and Hogan, The Marshall Plan, pp. 134-51. Arkes, Bureaucracy, pp. 312-16, shows that while ECA head Paul G. Hoffmann tried to emphasize that he was strictly interested in economic factors, he did realize that the ERP had a political dimension. The point is that the range of such a politics was constricted. Back.

Note 13: See Maier, "Politics of Productivity." Back.

Note 14: . These agreements are analyzed masterfully by Albert Hirschman in National Power and the Structure of Foreign Trade. Back.

Note 15: There are, of course, many ways of being political, a term that is essentially contested. Some of the many ways are considered in Charles Maier's introduction to his edited volume, Changing Boundaries of the Political, and in Connolly, Political Discourse, where the term's contested status is made clear. Back.

Note 16: Kennan, Measures Short of War, p. 296. Back.

Note17 : Ibid., p. 11. Back.

Note 18: The difference was captured in theoretical terms by the distinction referred to above between negative and positive liberty. Berlin, Essays on Liberty, p. 166, recognized that these are only two types of attitudes toward the ends of life and that specific situations would mix both types of liberty. Back.

Note 19: There is no historical precedent for such an open order. However, the point of such a counterfactual is to underscore the salience of limits and closure in the building of liberal order, not to demonstrate its feasibility. Back.

Note 20: Interestingly, the philosopher Richard Rorty, who has made much of the link between liberalism and solidarity, for instance in his Contingency, Irony, and Solidarity, has been criticized for being a Cold War liberal by Richard Bernstein, The New Constellation, ch. 8. Back.

Note 21: Some thinking along these lines is found in Linklater, Men and Citizens. Back.

Note 22: See Sherry, Preparation for the Next War, pp. 199-204, on the expansion of bases and the world peace mission accepted by the Joint Chiefs of Staff. See also Paterson, Communist Threat, p. 43, on the new forward defense strategic thinking. See Leffler, "Adherence to Agreements," p. 112, on the retention of World War II bases in the context of NATO. And see Herkin, Winning Weapon, on the increasing importance of the A-bomb in U.S. strategic thinking. On the differences between the prewar and postwar U.S. military posture see Lundestad, "Empire by Invitation," p. 265. Back.

Note 23: Leffler, "Was 1947 a Turning Point," p. 28, reviews these strategic expansions in 1947. Back.

Note 24: This point is observed in Pach, "Arming the Free World," pp. 304, 369. Back.

Note 25: See Leffler, "American Conception of National Security." Back.

Note 26: The overemphasis Leffler places on military planning forms part of Gaddis's critique of his approach; see Gaddis, "Comments." Back.

Note 27: As planners themselves came to realize, making this separation was far from simple. Congressional intentions are discussed in Arkes, Bureaucracy, p. 111. Back.

Note 28: See Green, "The Cold War Comes to Latin America," pp. 158-60. Back.

Note 29: See the "Report of the Special 'Ad Hoc' Committee of the State-War-Navy Coordinating Committee," April 21, 1947 in FRUS, 1947, vol. 3, p. 206. The same point is made in Gaddis, Strategies of Containment, p. 63. Back.

Note 30: That historical time can differ, especially in so crucial a period as the immediate postwar years, is a point observed by Grosser, Western Alliance, p. 59. On the broader theoretical implications of differences in political time see Maier, "The Politics of Time," pp. 151-78. Back.

Note 31: Kirkpatrick, "Dictatorships and Double Standards." Back.

Note 32: Jackson, Quasi-States. Back.

Note 33: On the minimal importance of shared international values see Kratochwil, Norms, Rules and Decisions, pp. 64-66. Back.

Note 34: The state centrism of the liberal tradition is generally explored in Latham, "Getting Out From Under." Back.

Note 35: Cited in Gaddis, "The Insecurities of Victory," p. 267, n.110. Back.

Note 36: Jones, Fifteen Weeks, pp. 166-67. Back.

Note 37: Cited in ibid., pp. 270, 273. Back.

Note 38: Kennan's views on Spain are discussed in Hixson, George F. Kennan, p. 58. On the inclusion of Italy in NATO see Smith, "From Disarmament to Armament," p. 362. Back.

Note 39: Quoted in Steel, Walter Lippmann, pp. 438-39. In August 1948, for example, Kennan claimed that he could not articulate the specific aims of Soviet containment. See NSC 20/1, in Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, pp. 173-202. Back.

Note 40: Cited in Kennan, Memoirs, pp. 321-22. Back.

Note 41: On Acheson's defense of the Truman Doctrine see Woods and Jones, Dawning of the Cold War, p. 149. The designation of containment as a "flexible policy" is discussed in ibid., p. 143. Back.

Note 42: One criticism Kennan lodged in early 1948 against U.S. foreign policy was that its universal approach "tends to rule out political solutions (that is, solutions relating to the peculiarities in the positions and attitudes of the individual peoples)." "Review of Current Trends: U.S. Foreign Policy," in Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, pp. 97-98. Although Kennan recognized that both universalistic and particularistic approaches were embedded in American foreign policy, such a view overlooks the way that a universal principle allows for particular solutions to be handled by the "individual peoples" themselves. Back.

Note 43: This "freedom of action" was observed by Gaddis, "Turning Point," p. 399. Back.

Note 44: On the weakness of the Greek economy and the limited efforts to apply economic security see Wittner, American Intervention in Greece, pp. 184, 226-27; and Amen, American Foreign Policy, pp. 195ff. On the early reservations about the representative nature of the Greek government see Kofas, Greece During the Cold War, p. 64. On the risks not taken on a political settlement and the recourse to violence and authoritarianism, see Wittner, American Intervention in Greece, pp. 121, 134, 268; and Jones, "A New Kind of War," pp. 47ff. Kennan's warning on supporting authoritarian governments is addressed in Gaddis, Strategies of Containment, p. 40. See also the discussion of U.S. policymakers' fear of the vulnerability of unstable democratic governance and the recourse to authoritarian forces in Smith, America's Mission, pp. 184-88. Back.

Note 45: See Amen, American Foreign Policy in Greece, for a detailed discussion of these organs. Back.

Note 46: These justifications are brought out in Wittner, American Intervention in Greece, p. 73; and Amen, American Foreign Policy in Greece, p. 79. Back.

Note 47: Barnett, "The New United Nations Politics," p. 87. Back.

Note 48: See Lippmann, The Cold War, ch. 1. Back.

Note 49: Some of this activity is summarized in Paterson, On Every Front, pp. 62-63. The general origins of clandestine political operations and the CIA is summarized in Leary, The Central Intelligence Agency, pp. 36-49. Back.

Note 50: For a discussion that emphasizes the security motives at work in the expansionary and globalist aspects of containment see Tucker, The Radical Left, pp. 107-11. Back.

Note 51: Gallagher and Robinson, "The Imperialism of Free Trade," p. 13. Back.

Note 523: On exclusionary terms and means see Mehta, "Liberal Strategies of Exclusion." Back.

Note 53: This is discussed in Tilly, Coercion, Capital, and European States, p. 24. Back.

Note 54: This tendency has not escaped the notice of historians and political scientists alike. Besides historians such as Gaddis, political scientists such as Hadley Arkes, Bureaucracy, and Theodore Lowi, End of Liberalism, ch. 6, have sounded the same theme. Back.

Note 55: By authority, following the definition of Kratochwil, Norms, Rules and Decisions, I mean the degree to which there is "acceptance of decisions as authoritative which are either rendered by dispute-settling organs or which have been made collectively (pp. 62-63)." Scope refers to the degree to which policy and decisionmaking-both within and across a wide range of issue areas-falls under an institution's governance. Back.

Note 56: See Grosser, Western Alliance, pp. 61-63. Back.

Note 57: A provocative exploration of some of the ways that containment helped set the terms of U.S. identity is in Campbell, Writing Security, pp. 175-79. Back.

Note 58: See Hixon, George F. Kennan, pp. 94-95. Back.

Note 59: Klein, Strategic Studies and World Order, pp. 114-18. Back.

Note 60: McNamara, In Retrospect, p. 322. Back.

Note 61: NSC-68, in Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, pp. 393-94. As Gaddis, "Turning Point," p. 401, shows, this dynamic was also understood by Acheson by 1949, as he tried to counter both Kennan's and Bohlen's emphasis on Soviet intentions over capabilities. Back.

Note 62: Kratochwil, "The Challenge of Security in a Changing World," p. 127. Back.

Note 63: See Kratochwil, Rules, Norms, and Decisions, p. 258, for a general discussion of the stress that structural realism places on capabilities over politics; the same point is brought out from another angle by Ashley, "The Poverty of Neorealism," p. 291. Back.

Note 64: Cumings, Roaring of the Cataract, pp. 66-70. On the British view see Woods and Jones, Dawning of the Cold War, p. 103. Back.

Note 65: See the discussion in Kaplan, The United States and NATO, pp. 31-32. Back.

Note 66: Vandenberg, Vandenberg Diaries, p. 341. Back.

Note 67: This understanding of the status of the confrontational nature of international liberalism contrasts with that of Michael Doyle, "Liberal Legacies," part 2, p. 324, who sees it as inherently bombastic and marked by missionary zeal. Cf. also Gaddis, Origins of the Cold War, p. 352, on the Truman Doctrine as overly confrontational because of its ideologically conflictual nature. Back.

Note 68: On the limited organizational "instrumentalities" see Wittner, American Intervention in Greece, p. 104. On the consideration and rejection of the option of sending troops see Jones, "New Kind of War," p. 92. Back.

Note 69: See Lundestad, America's Non-Policy Towards Eastern Europe, pp. 63, 223, 254-55, 331, on the limits in Eastern Europe and Messer, End of an Alliance, p. 198, on the Middle East. Back.

Note 70: The limits of U.S. intervention in India is addressed in Brands, Specter of Neutralism, p. 48. The U.S. deference to Britain in their traditional spheres is considered by Kuniholm, Cold War in the Near East, pp. 97, 227, 242-43. A discussion of the limited troop commitment is in Wells, "The First Cold War Buildup," p. 182. Back.

Note 71: The Europe first strategy is portrayed by Gaddis, Long Peace, p. 56. See also Kennan's November 1947 "Resume of the World Situation," in Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, p. 91. Back.

Note 72: Address before the Delta Council in Cleveland on May 8, 1947, reprinted in Jones, Fifteen Weeks, p. 279. Back.

Note 73: Lippmann, The Cold War, p. 24. Back.

Note 74: Kolko and Kolko, Limits of Power, p. 711. A major theme throughout Lippmann, The Cold War, is how the universalism of containment would put stress on U.S. resources as the entire liberal world became a potential point for the application of counterforce. Back.

Note 75: See Lundestad, "Empire by Invitation," p. 267; Hogan, Marshall Plan, p. 443; and Paterson, Communist Threat, p. 34. Back.

Note 76: "Review of Current Trends: U.S. Foreign Policy," in Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, p. 227. Back.

Note 77: Maier, "Making of 'Pax Americana,' " p. 42. Back.

Note 78: . On Turkey, see Leffler, "Strategy, Diplomacy, and the Cold War," p. 818. On the effort to trade aid for base rights see Ireland, Entangling Alliance, pp. 125-27; and Kaplan, Community of Interests, pp. 36ff. On military advisers see ibid., pp. 60ff. On European resistance see ibid., pp. 61-2, 139; and idem, The United States and NATO, p. 39. Back.

Note 79: The extent to which Western European states gave up control of their security is explored in Buzan, "The Future of Western European Security," p. 29; and in Kaplan, The United States and NATO, pp. 5-12. Many aspects of the sometimes ambiguous relationship between sovereignty and security are explored in Stambuk, American Forces Abroad, pp. 7-12, 161-64. As Sherry, Preparing for the Next War, p. 42, shows, as early as 1944, FDR had been willing to order a study on air bases that was to "ignore considerations of national sovereignty." Back.

Note 80: Beugel, Marshall Aid, p. 216. Back.

Note 81: Cited in Hobsbawm, Nations and Nationalism, p. 30. Back.

Note 82: Cited in Jones, Fifteen Weeks, p. 280. Back.

Note 83: For a discussion of the reasons for U.S. support of integration see Rappaport, "The United States and European Integration," pp. 121-22; Hogan, The Marshall Plan, p. 90; Kaplan, Community of Interests, p. 7; and Calleo, Beyond American Hegemony, p. 30. Back.

Note 84: Haas, "International Integration," p. 366. Back.

Note 85: See Rappaport, "The United States and European Integration," p. 132. Back.

Note 86: Congressional resistance is considered in Ikenberry, "Origins of American Hegemony," pp. 388-89. Back.

Note 87: On the expectations of the disappearance of the ERP see Arkes, Bureaucracy, pp. 203, 301; and Milward, Reconstruction of Western Europe, p. 169. The perception of the temporariness of Europe's problems and their status as an emergency are discussed in Milward, ibid., p. 219; and Maier, "Supranational Concepts," p. 29. Back.

Note 88: On the ramifications of the business emphasis in the ERP see Arkes, Bureaucracy, p. 329. See also Wilkins, The Maturing of Multinational Enterprise, pp. 287-323, on the general scope of the postwar activity of multinational corporations (MNCs). One area of MNC involvement not discussed here is the American occupation of Germany. See Eisenberg, "U.S. Policy in Post-War Germany." Back.

Note 89: See Arkes, Bureaucracy, pp. 157, 299, 215, 301, 325. Back.

Note 90: Hogan, Marshall Plan, p. 136. Back.

Note 91: See ibid., pp. 143-51, where many of the aspects of this participation-the chief goal of which was to incorporate labor into the recovery effort-are explored. Back.

Note 92: Vandenberg, Private Papers, p. 395. Back.

Note 93: Ibid., p. 382. Back.

Note 94: Ibid., pp. 392-93. Back.

Note 95: On the limited leverage of the ERP see Milward, Reconstruction of Western Europe. p. 125; and Arkes, Bureaucracy, pp. 311, 326. European resistance and alternatives are also discussed in Milward, pp. 120, 173; and Hogan, Marshall Plan, pp. 123-24. Back.

Note 96: This constitutes the main theme of Freeland, Origins of McCarthyism, ch. 5; see also Jackson, "Prologue to the Marshall Plan." Back.

Note 97: 97. Integration as a political goal of the Marshall Plan is considered in Milward, Reconstruction of Western Europe, p. 56. On the promotion of U.S. interests in general see Freeland, Origins of McCarthyism, p. 56; Block, Origins of International Monetary Disorder, pp. 83-84; and Kolko and Kolko, Limits of Power, pp. 436ff. The specific outcomes in Italy and France are detailed in Leffler, "Strategic Dimensions of the Marshall Plan," pp. 280-81; Jackson, "Prologue to the Marshall Plan," p. 1046; and Maier, "Supranational Concepts," pp. 32-33. Back.

Note 98: See Gimbel, Origins of the Marshall Plan, p. 4, on the incorporation of Germany; LaFeber, America, Russia, and the Cold War, p. 62; Maier, "Supranational Concepts," p. 31; and Leffler, "Strategic Dimensions of the Marshall Plan," pp. 282-83. Back.

Note 99: See Arkes, Bureaucracy, pp. 216-18, on the encouragement of East-West trade in the ERP. The dualistic multilateral and bipolar character of the ERP is discussed in Woods and Jones, Dawning of the Cold War, p. 246. The ramifications of the ERP for Eastern Europe as seen by the administration is treated in Lundestad, America's Non-Policy Towards Eastern Europe, p. 104; and Leffler, "Strategic Dimensions of the Marshall Plan," p. 283. In effect, a certain degree of closure was necessary regarding East-West multilateral economic relations before they could be carried on into the future. Back.

Note 100: NSC-20/1, in Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, pp. 182-83. Back.

Note 101: The most complete treatment of these dimensions is Leffler, "Strategic Dimensions of the Marshall Plan," and idem, Preponderance of Power, ch. 5. See also Jackson, "Prologue to the Marshall Plan;" and Ambrose, Rise to Globalism, pp. 92-93. Back.

Note 102: Milward, Reconstruction of Western Europe, pp. 5, 54. Back.

Note 103: "Report of the Special 'Ad Hoc' Committee of the State-War-Navy Coordinating Committee," April 21, 1947, in Department of State, FRUS, 1947, vol. 3, pp. 204-19. Back.

Note 104: See also the comments by Jackson, "Prologue to the Marshall Plan," p. 1055. On strategic materials see Kaplan, Community of Interests, pp. 13-14. Wallace and Baruch's observations are treated by Kaplan, p. 13; and Hogan, Marshall Plan, p. 94. The links between economic and military security made in the Senate are considered in Arkes, Bureaucracy, p. 110. Back.

Note 105: Smith, "From Disarmament to Rearmament," p. 359. Back.

Note 106: Acheson is quoted in LaFeber, "NATO and the Korean War: A Context," p. 463. Lovett is quoted in Pach, "Arming the Free World," pp. 364-65. Back.

Note 107: Cited in Smith, The United States, Italy and NATO, p. 105. Back.

Note 108: Vandenberg, Private Papers, p. 475. Back.

Note 109: NSC 14/1, in Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, p. 130. Back.

Note 110: See Hogan, The Marshall Plan, pp. 189, 313, on the rearmament-integration link and coordination. Back.

Note 111: See May, "The American Commitment to Germany," p. 438. Back.

Note 112: Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, pp. 158-59. Back.

Note 113: On these points see Kaplan, The United States and NATO, pp. 4, 104, 128, 152, 173; idem, Community of Interests, pp. 74-76; Schwartz, America's Germany, p. 115; Ireland, Entangling Alliance, p. 183; Leffler, "Strategic Dimensions of the Marshall Plan," p. 295; Lundestad, "Empire by Invitation," p. 272; and May, "America's Commitment to Germany," pp. 432-33. Back.

Note 114: Cited in Kaplan, The United States and NATO, p. 71. Back.

Note 115: Kaplan, Community of Interests, p. 41. Back.

Note 116: Bohlen's views are cited in Folly, "Breaking the Vicious Circle," pp. 70-71; and Gaddis, Long Peace, ch. 3. Back.

Note 117: Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, pp. 154-55. Back.

Note 118: Taft's views are in Doenecke, Not to the Swift, pp. 162-63. On the way NATO overcame the potential for a return to isolationism see May, "America's Commitment to Germany," pp. 431-36. Back.

Note 119: The extent to which isolationist military approaches influenced the Truman administration's military planning is explored in Sherry, Preparing for the Next War, pp. 49, 203-4, 229-32; Doenecke, Not to the Swift, p. 165; Rosenberg, "America's Atomic Strategy," p. 69; and Eden, "Capitalist Conflict," p. 253. Back.

Note 120: When Acheson signed the North Atlantic Treaty he claimed that it might correct the failure of the ERP to unify Europe through the U.S. connection. See Kaplan, The United States and NATO, pp. 5-6; Freeland, Origins of McCarthyism, p. 323; LaFeber, America, Russia, and the Cold War, p. 84; and Joffe, "Europe's American Pacifier." Back.

Note 121: On British resistance to economic integration see Hogan, The Marshall Plan, p. 75; and Ireland, Entangling Alliance, pp. 165-66. On French reluctance regarding Germany see Schwartz, America's Germany, p. 38; Kaplan, United States and NATO, pp. 135-38; Joffe, "Europe's American Pacifier," pp. 69-70; Gaddis, Long Peace, p. 66; Ireland, pp. 67-71, 109, 175. On the undermining of confidence see Hogan, pp. 310-12; and LaFeber, "NATO and the Korean War," p. 362. Back.

Note 122: See Kaplan, The United States and NATO, pp. 135-38; and Ireland, Entangling Alliance, p. 67. Back.

Note 123: Doenecke, Not to the Swift, p. 154. The irony that a U.S. push for a strong independent West Germany to minimize U.S. involvement in Europe had led to increased Western European demand for U.S. involvement is noted by Ireland, Entangling Alliance, pp. 75-76. Back.

Note 124: "Summary Record of a Meeting of United States Ambassadors at Paris, October 21-22," in FRUS, 1949, vol. 4, p. 482. Back.

Note 125: This complexity is one reason why I have viewed those forces mostly through the lens of U.S. policymakers. The other reason is the sheer salience of the U.S. perspective, which, nonetheless, was only one among many. On this issue see the Introduction above. Back.

Note 126: Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, pp. 203-11. Back.

Note 127: Ibid., p. 207. Back.

Note 128: Ibid., p. 205. Back.

Note129 : Ibid., p. 204. Back.

Note130 : Ibid., p. 209. Back.

Note 131: Cited in Leffler, Preponderance of Power, p. 218. See the excellent study by Avi Shlaim, The United States and the Berlin Blockade. Back.

Note 132: Frémeaux and Martel, "French Defense Policy," p. 96. Back.

Note 133: Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, p. 150. Back.

Note 134: Kennan, Memoirs, pp. 408-09. Back.

Note 135: FRUS, 1947, vol. 3, p. 216. Back.

Note 136: This memo is discussed in Steel, Walter Lippmann, p. 460. Back.

Note 137: In this view, he was generally in accord with Kennan's Program A discussed in the last chapter. Back.

Note 138: Leffler, Preponderance of Power, pp. 212-13; and Wall, The United States and the Making of Postwar France, pp. 133-34. Back.

Note 139: The story and politics surrounding the Soviet bomb is superbly told and analyzed in Holloway, Stalin and the Bomb. Back.

Note 140: On these efforts see, for example, Leffler, Preponderance of Power, p. 215. Back.

Note 141: Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, pp. 204-05. Back.

Note 142: . Ibid., p. 209. Back.

Note 143: Smith, The United States, Italy and NATO, p. 66. Back.

Note 144: Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, p. 210. Back.

Note 145: Ibid., p. 208. Back.

Note 146: Ibid., p. 175. Back.

Note 147: Ibid., p. 174. This is not, however, an accurate quote of Clausewitz. Back.

Note 148: Ibid., p. 298. Back.

Note 149: Ibid., p. 300. Back.

Note 150: Examples include Johnson, "Periods of Peril," p. 952; Nordlinger, Isolationism Reconfigured, pp. 268-70; and Stueck, Road to Confrontation, p. 257. Back.

Note 151: A very nuanced discussion of vulnerability that does take self-fearing (without using the term) into account along with other forms of vulnerability is in Buzan, People, States and Fear, ch. 3. Back.

Note 152: Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, pp. 401, 412. Back.

Note 153: See, for example, the excellent analysis of this problem in Putnam, "Diplomacy and Domestic Politics." Back.

Note 154: Some of the broader theoretical issues at stake in this sense of explanation are developed in PatomŠki, "How to Tell Better Stories About World Politics." Back.

Note 155: Vandenberg, Private Papers, p. 479. Back.

Note 156: Kaplan, Community of Interests, p. 72. See also Hogan, The Marshall Plan, p. 443; and Calleo, Beyond American Hegemony, p. 19. Back.

Note 157: Buzan, "Western European Security," p. 36. Back.

Note 158: On Kennan's views see Gaddis, Long Peace, pp. 63-64. On Dulles see Kaplan, The United States and NATO, p. 185. Back.

Note 159: 1 The "disguised integration" especially of the early NATO is analyzed in Stambuk, American Forces Abroad, pp. 167-72. See also Kaplan, The United States and NATO, p. 128. Hogan, The Marshall Plan, pp. 80, 443, points out also that the collaboration over collective security "overshadowed" but never replaced the trend toward increasing unity. There also was, of course, a slow progression of increasing security collaboration in NATO through the years, but the failure of the European Defense Community (EDC), the "withdrawal" of France, and the continued American dominance point away from integration in any meaningful sense. See also the essays in Heller and Gillingham, eds., NATO: The Founding of the Atlantic Alliance. Back.

Note 160: The role of NATO as a facilitator of further cooperation in the economic sphere is noted by Beugel, Marshall Aid, p. 257. Some interesting reflections on the emergence of a "liberal time" and its allocative nature is in Maier, "Politics of Time," p. 165. Back.

Note 161: Maier, "Making of 'Pax Americana,' " pp. 42-54; and idem, "Finance and Defense," pp. 335-51. On some of the theoretical issues surrounding this link see Gowa, "Bipolarity, Multipolarity, and Free Trade." Back.

Note 162: FRUS, 1949, vol. 4, p. 494. Back.

Note 163: On this influence see Risse-Kappen, "Long-Term Future of European Security," p. 57. Back.

Note 164: Acheson's comments were made in, U.S. Congress, House Committee on Ways and Means, Extension of the Reciprocal Trade Agreements Act, p. 7. Acheson also claimed that the U.S. must "maintain as spacious an environment as possible in which free states might exist and flourish." Cited in Freeland, Origins of McCarthyism, p. 322. For a discussion of the importance of productivity see Maier, "Politics of Productivity"; Hogan, The Marshall Plan, ch. 1; and Kaplan, Community of Interests, p. 77. Back.

Note 165: Calleo, Beyond American Hegemony, pp. 19, 35. Back.

Note 166: The use of the Schuman Plan to link France and Germany is considered in Ireland, Entangling Alliance, pp. 168-75; Wiggershaus, "The Decision for a West German Defense Contribution," p. 199; and LaFeber, America, Russia, and the Cold War, p. 86. Back.

Note 167: Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, pp. 403-4, 422. Back.

Note 168: See Russett, Controlling the Sword, for some of the problems and possibilities of democratic control of the military. Back.

Note 169: Gaddis, "The Soviet Threat Reconsidered," p. 169. Back.

Note 170: Smith, "From Disarmament to Rearmament," p. 359. Back.

Note 171: Etzold and Gaddis, eds., Containment, p. 414. Back.

Note 172: Cumings, Roaring of the Cataract, p. 48. See also Lloyd Gardner, "Commentary," pp. 61-62. Back.

Note 173: Kaplan, The United States and NATO, p. 11. Back.

Note 174: See, for example, Jervis, "Impact of the Korean War," who argues that the Korean War was the crucial turning point; and LaFeber, "NATO and the Korean War," who points to patterns of militarization that reflected a general systemic crisis as well as events that occurred previous to the Korean War such as the Soviet A-bomb. Back.

Note 175: Mann, Sources of Social Power, p. 26. Back.

Note 176: Holm, "The Democratic Victory," argues that even democratic states try to shield foreign policy from democratic processes. Back.

Note 177: Locke, "The Second Treatise of Government," especially chaps. 9 and 10. On the play between sovereignty and security see Ullman, "Redefining Security." Back.

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The Liberal Moment