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Tripolarity and Hitler’s Strategy of World Conquest
1998
Introduction
At the height of its power in the summer of 1942, Hitlerite Germany had enslaved four hundred million people; its empire stretched from the Mediterranean to the Arctic, from the English Channel to the Black Sea and almost to the Caspian. Between the Ukrainian steppes and the Pyrenees only Switzerland remained free. Even Mussolini, whom Hitler once called “the leading statesman in the world,” 1 had been reduced to a pathetic pawn. Far from the turmoil in Europe, Hitler’s U–boats were carrying the Nazi offensive to the New World, engaging enemy forces off the Atlantic coast of North America and in the Caribbean Sea.
The enormity of Hitler’s ambitions and Nazi brutality had by this time provoked the formation of a global counter&-;coalition solely aimed at defeating Germany and its Axis partners. All that was asked of any available ally was that it should share faithfully this one major purpose. Among the members of the Allied coalition, however, only the Soviet Union, which had already suffered serious losses the year before, was actively fighting German land forces in Europe. And unlike in 1941, when the Wehrmacht had stalled in the snow outside Moscow and Leningrad, the renewed German offensive of 1942 had carried the spearheads of Hitler’s panzer armies to Stalingrad and deep into the Caucasus, where they threatened Russia’s richest oil fields and, by extension, the Red Army’s ability to continue the struggle against Germany. 2
In short, by mid–1942, Nazi Germany not only threatened to take control of the European Continent but actually appeared on the verge of accomplishing that goal. Had the Wehrmacht defeated the Soviet Union before the United States mobilized its awesome war potential, Germany would soon have been in position, after several years of reconfiguring its forces, to wage a truly hegemonic war against the North American Continent. As Gerhard Weinberg observes: “A total reordering of the globe was at stake from the very beginning, and the leadership on both sides recognized this.” 3 How have historians and political scientists explained this unprecedented systemic disequilibrium?
Though it is widely believed that structural constraints and pressures played an important role in the origins of the First World War, scholars do not typically associate systemic factors with the outbreak of the Second World War. Hence, while the statesmen of World War I are traditionally imagined as gored on the horns of a structural dilemma, unable to avoid a war that none of them wanted, 4 such a story of external compulsion is rarely told about the leaders of World War II, which evokes not Greek tragedy but an epic morality play driven by a unique cast of “larger than life” characters. The problem with this standard historical account, according to Reinhard Meyers, is that
| the actors in the drama appear only as personified images, no longer as real persons. Those men with the stiff collars appear as the embodiment of character–types reflected in a momentous spectacle—the man of Munich, who confronts the armed might of Germany with an umbrella, draws back in terror and gives way, because he lacks courage and determination....The drama has a villain (Hitler) and a sinner (Chamberlain)—what more does one need to explain the outbreak of war in 1939, especially when the supporting roles are played by lesser villains such as Mussolini and Stalin, and lesser sinners like Beck and Daladier. 5 |
Most international relations theorists have similarly adopted this villain/sinner image to explain the origins of World War II. The father of structural realism himself, Kenneth Waltz, at least partially endorses it: “A small–number system can always be disrupted by the actions of a Hitler and the reactions of a Chamberlain....One may lament Churchill’s failure to gain control of the British government in the 1930s, for he knew what actions were required to maintain a balance of power.” 6 Likewise, prominent game theorists, such as Emerson Niou and Peter Ordeshook, “sympathize . . . with the analyses that interpret Hitler’s personality . . . as critical to the outbreak of World War II rather than some breakdown in traditional balance–of–power forces.” 7 While John Mueller argues that Hitler alone caused World War II, since “it almost seems that after World War I the only person left in Europe who was willing to risk another total war was Adolf Hitler.” 8
Yet, “to say that the second World War occurred because Hitler wanted war,” declares E. H. Carr, “is true enough but explains nothing.” 9 At best, it is a flimsy explanation that borders on tautology and, just as important, ignores situational factors that were crucial antecedent causes of the war. Thus, seeking to shed new light on an important case that scholars have come to think of as familiar, this study considers the role of structural causes in the outbreak of World War II. I argue that the structure of the international system prior to the Second World War was tripolar—not multipolar, as commonly believed—and that this needs to be taken into account in explaining the alliance patterns and foreign–policy strategies of the major powers prior to and during the war. 10
To restrict the analysis to structural elements alone, however, would be just as wrongheaded as the prior pattern of focusing entirely on individual personalities or other unit–level factors. Structural conditions are merely permissive or “profound” causes of specific actions: they allow certain things to happen by providing opportunities for and constraints on actors’ behavior. 11 In Waltz’s phrase, structure can “tell us a small number of big and important things”; 12 it is particularly useful for explaining behavioral regularities and enduring features of international politics; why certain policies succeed or fail; when war will be more or less likely.
But system structure neither determines specific outcomes nor dictates actions, and so it cannot tell us why a particular event occurred at a particular time. In history, the external environment has rarely (if ever) left policymakers with no other choice but to act the way they did. Political leaders in control of significant human and material resources can shape events and change the course of history, though often in directions not foreseen or intended. Sometimes their (in)actions have precipitated war or made it more likely; at other times they have prevented war under conditions favorable to its outbreak. As A. J. P. Taylor puts it: “International anarchy makes war possible; it does not make war certain.” 13
Complex historical events, like the Second World War, cannot be predicted or wholly explained by general causes. As historians are quick to point out, specific events have specific causes. Any interpretation of the origins of the war must therefore include the particular interests and goals of the major actors as specific causes that supplement the more general causes and thereby provide greater determinateness to the explanation. Most historians agree that both objective situations and human agents (their intelligence, heroism, wickedness, and blunders) make history; the two causal levels complement, rather than compete with, each other. Causal disputes, when they are not the result of conflicting appeals to evidence or of basic interpretations of the facts, often turn on the relative weight assigned to the two levels of causation. The “relationship between the given conditions and the policy of statesman,” observes F. H. Hinsley, “is not a constant and mechanical relationship....One war may be almost entirely due to the given conditions and hardly at all the consequence of the conduct of the men involved. Another war may be almost entirely due to that conduct.” 14 Establishing a hierarchy of causes, the relative significance of one cause or set of causes or of another, which fixes their relation to one another, is the essence of historical interpretation. Different causal judgments tend to reflect, therefore, competing assessments of the interplay among unit– and structural–level factors and the relative weight assigned to each level.
The Causal Role of Hitler?
Let us return to the question of Hitler’s role and significance as a cause of World War II. Historians have conventionally viewed the emergence of Hitler as a necessary and sufficient condition for the war. His revisionist aims, they contend, far exceeded those of traditional German statesmen. 15 Thus, while Stresemann and Brüning would have been more than satisfied with the frontiers of 1914, Hitler consistently repudiated them and made it clear that a restoration of the huge gains Germany had made by the Treaty of Brest–Litovsk (1917) would not satisfy him. Furthermore, Hitler’s ideas on race and space were not shared by his Weimar predecessors; 16 and his barbaric policies of exterminating and enslaving Jews and the inhabitants of those territories he mapped out for future German “living space” would have been unthinkable to any prior German leader.
Revisionists counter that Hitler did not invent the doctrines of race and space and that he was not the only German of his day who believed in them. Indeed, these were relatively old ideas. Hitler’s call for German “living–space” was inspired by nineteenth–century German geopolitics; his vulgarized, racist version of Social Darwinism had, by 1900, gained wide acceptance in Germany, both in academic circles and among the masses; and his claim that Germany had not been defeated in World War I but instead stabbed in the back by Jews or those inspired by Jews was also commonly believed in Germany after Versailles.
Yet, even if we concede that Hitler’s ideas distinguished him from prior German leaders (and I believe that they did), the question remains: Was Hitler’s ideology or one similar to it necessary for the outbreak of the Second World War? The diversity of interests and ideological concerns that have motivated revolutionary states throughout history suggests that Naziism was not a necessary cause of the war. “Napoleonic France and Hitlerite Germany,” notes Gilpin, “gave very different governances to the Europe each united.” 17 It is not a specific set of interests or particular ideology that unites and defines all revolutionary states, but rather a shared belief that the status–quo order, which neither serves their interests nor reflects their enhanced power, is illegitimate and must be overturned by force of arms. 18 All German parties and statesmen, for instance, took it for granted that the Treaty of Versailles required drastic revision. Nazi ideology was just one of many possible expressions, albeit an especially vicious anti–Semitic one, of the average German’s hostility toward what was perceived as an unduly harsh settlement.
In this regard, the legacy of Versailles was a dangerous imbalance of power that placed Germany in an unnatural position of “artificial inferiority": though denied its “natural weight” by the terms of the treaty, Germany was left intact at the insistence of the Anglo–Saxon powers and remained potentially the strongest power in Europe. Since “Powers will be Powers,” Taylor argues, it “was perfectly obvious that Germany would seek to become a Great Power again.” 19 Germany, in his view, was a “normal” state: it acted as any other state would have behaved under similar objective conditions. 20 Moreover, Taylor’s Hitler was an ordinary, traditional German leader, “no more wicked and unscrupulous than many other contemporary statesmen.” 21 He was not a conspirator who planned the war far in advance but rather a “sleepwalker,” whose thoughts of becoming master of the world were simply “day–dreams.” 22 At worst, Taylor’s Hitler was a daring improviser, ingeniously exploiting the mistakes and foibles of his feckless opponents. In the end, Hitler stumbled into a world war that he neither intended nor wanted.
We may reject entirely (as most historians have done) Taylor’s charitable characterization of Hitler, and yet still agree with his basic argument that “acute structural imbalance” was a sufficient cause of the Second World War. That is, we may concede that Hitler was not a “normal” German statesman, that he intended the Second World War, sought world conquest, and planned for it long in advance, and still conclude that these factors were not necessary causes but rather irrelevant or epiphenomenal to the outcome; at best, they made a highly probable event more likely to occur.
According to this interpretation, an underlying “geopolitical reality” operates in accordance with objective laws such that the outcome (in this case, World War II) could not “logically” have been any different from what it was, regardless of the policies and decisions of human agents. There is some evidence to support this position. For instance, in 1925, long before Hitler arrived on the scene, Sir James Headlam–Morley predicted “a new alliance between Germany and Russia . . . which would no doubt be cemented by an attack on Poland.” Remarkably, he goes on to divine the very scenario that led to the outbreak of war: “Austria rejoined Germany; that Germany, using the discontented minority in Bohemia, demanded a frontier far over the mountains, including Carlsbad and Pilsen, and at the same time, in alliance with Germany, the Hungarians recovered the southern slopes of the Carpathians.” 23
Adherents of “geopolitical determinism” claim that structural imbalances made violent change inevitable. The main thrust of their argument is that, unless post–Versailles Germany proved to be an extremely “abnormal” state in an altruistic, self–abnegating sense, it was destined to become a rising, dissatisfied power; and when such states have gained sufficient strength to wage hegemonic wars against the established order, they have done so more often than not. At a minimum, they have threatened or risked war in an attempt to get others to redress their grievances. Given that wars are often not intended but only risked at the time, World War II was an accident waiting to happen. It was only a matter of time before the tension between Germany and its neighbors boiled over; the established powers could do little or nothing to keep the lid on the kettle.
In contrast with this deterministic notion of structure, the conceptual approach taken in this book posits structure as a permissive cause of action, providing the conditions that “let” rather than “make” things happen. According to this view, Hitler, while not a unique figure in history, was hardly a streetcar that arrives at regular intervals. (The same can be said of Stalin, Chamberlain, Churchill, Roosevelt, Mussolini, and Daladier.) The goals and policy decisions of statesmen, sometimes even those of extraordinarily unremarkable ones, can (and often do) exert a profound effect on the course of history, and so human agency must be taken into account. But structure matters too. If Hitler had been the leader of Equador rather than Germany, he could not have started the Second World War. If the United States had not disengaged from Europe and demobilized its armed forces, Hitler would have been denied his “window of opportunity” to grab the Continent. In short, while Hitler may have been a necessary cause of World War II, he was certainly not an altogether sufficient one.
This theoretical approach departs from the conventional international–relations wisdom that cautions against integrating variables at different levels of analysis. 24 It is my belief that if international relations theory continues to be restricted to either structural or unit–level theories, opportunities for further advances in knowledge will be missed. The objective of this book is to break out of these strictures and develop a theoretical framework that recognizes “the necessity of both certain predisposing conditions and the actions of certain individuals” 25 —that is, the complex interrelations between structure and agency. Systems theory is a holistic approach specifically designed to uncover these unit–structure interactions.
Systems Theory and Structure
A system refers to a set of elements interacting to form a whole. “Systemness,” as J. David Singer describes it, “is largely in the eye of the beholder; one can look at or imagine an extraordinary diverse range of social, biological, or physical entities and assign them to a system.” 26 All that is required of a system is that the component entities be so interrelated as “to make reciprocal impact feasible, if not unavoidable.” 27 To say that something is a system is to imply that the whole is different from the sum of the parts. Complex systems, such as the international system, are composed of many parts interacting in a nonsimple way. 28 Four remarks are important in this respect.
First, the behavior and outcomes of such systems are determined by the interplay among the units and the structural environment within which they are embedded; therefore, the dynamics of complex systems cannot be inferred through study of unit or structural attributes alone. Second, straightforward purposive action within a complex system often produces unintended consequences. This is true regardless of whether the initial intention underlying the action is fulfilled or frustrated by the system. 29 Third, consequential transformations in system dynamics do not occur in a linear manner, that is, the effect of variable A on B is not in direct proportion to the magnitude of A. An example of a nonlinear causal relationship would be one in which an initial increase in variable A increases the value of B, but a further increase in the value of A results in either a decrease or no change in the value of B. Fourth, relationships are nonadditive and noncommutative. By “nonadditive” I mean that the combined effect of the system’s variables cannot be known by summing the singular effect of each variable. 30 “Noncommutative” refers to the order in which the elements are taken and how that order affects what they combine to produce.
The concept of structure refers to the arrangement or relationship of a set of interrelated elements in a definite pattern of organization within a substance, body, or system. A structural account of international politics should specify
Since there is some confusion about this last point, let me explain.
Ever since Waltz made the partially correct but misleading statement, “With a reductionist approach, the whole is understood by knowing the attributes and the interactions of its parts,” 32 many students of international politics have mistakenly come to believe that references to the properties and interactions of the units of a system are reductionist and thus do not belong in the definition of structure. While it is true that the whole cannot be known through the study of its parts, neither can the characteristics of a system be known without reference to the properties of its units and how they interact. Suppose we want to know the degree of flexibility of various necklaces. 33 Reductionist analysis, because it derives the characteristics of the whole from those of its parts, would conclude that a pearl necklace will be rigid because pearls are rigid. This type of reductionist argument is clearly false. But it does not follow, as Waltz’s definition of structure suggests, that necklaces can be ranked in order of increasing flexibility solely according to the length of the bands and the number of elements without reference to the physical properties of the units. Because the elements must have some degree of rigidity if the band is to be flexible, it matters indeed whether the necklace is composed of pearls, metallic tubes, soft or hard plastic, glass beads, paper, or some combination thereof. One would find that, all other things being equal, a necklace made of pearls will be more flexible than one made of paper.
Applied to international politics, this logic suggests that systems of like structure will behave differently depending on the attributes of the constitutive states. For example, the “post–World War II” bipolar system might not have been characterized by a prolonged Cold War had Britain and the United States—or Germany and the Soviet Union—emerged as the two poles after the war. In all likelihood, an Anglo–American bipolarity would have been relatively peaceful, perhaps even cooperative; whereas a Nazi–Soviet bipolar rivalry might not have remained cold. As should be clear, system dynamics are related to, though not solely determined by, the properties of the constitutive units; they are the product of the interaction of unit–level and structural causes.
A New Balance–of–Power Theory
One reason why unit–level explanations have dominated the literature on World War II is that the predictions of balance–of–power theory—the most widely accepted systems theory of international relations and the cornerstone of realism—are often indeterminate and thus not very useful. 34 In Theory of International Politics , Waltz attempts to solve this problem by recasting balance of power in a more rigorous and deductive mold. Operating at a high level of abstraction, Waltz’s systems theory addresses broad questions: why balances recurrently form after their disruption; what degree of stability is to be expected of international systems of varying structures; how the constraining effects of structure reduce the variety of behaviors and outcomes, so that balancing behavior results even when no state seeks balance as an end.
Employing an explicit economic analogy, Waltz deduces that anarchic systems, like free markets, form spontaneously and function according to their own internal logic. Unrestrained competition among actors generates benefits unintended by the participants. Most important, self–help systems create dynamic equilibria (i.e., perpetual balances of power in world politics) and are governed by a competitive selection process, similar to natural selection in the theory of evolution. By rewarding and punishing units according to their actions, the system perpetuates successful behavior: actors seeking to survive and thrive imitate the behavior of other successful actors, while those who resist fall by the wayside. Fear of being selected out by the competitive system drives a socialization process that reduces variety (unsuccessful or irrational behavior) by establishing norms and encouraging conformity. 35
The central hypothesis of the theory concerns the effect of polarity on the stability of the system. Waltz maintains that multipolar systems are inherently unstable because “uncertainties about who threatens whom, about who will oppose whom, about who will gain or lose from the actions of other states accelerate as the number of states increase.” 36 Accordingly, bipolarity is the most stable system, since it contains the fewest number of actors required by a balance–of–power system. 37
Waltz’s ideas have been both the intellectual springboard for important research within the structural–realist paradigm 38 and the main target for detractors of neorealism. 39 Some critics of Waltz’s theory charge that, in its sacrifice of richness for rigor, structural realism caricatures rather than models classical realism. 40 Others admire the power and elegance of Waltz’s theory but complain that, as a systemic–level theory, it is too abstract to generate useful hypotheses about specific foreign–policy behavior, as Waltz readily admits. 41 By sacrificing some of Waltz’s parsimony, however, it is possible to turn his Theory of International Politics into one of foreign policy.
Following Waltz’s lead, several recent studies of the Second World War have focused on systemic–level, rather than unit–level, variables. 42 The problem with these studies is that they simply posit a multipolar interwar system containing five or more poles (their causal variable) without first establishing specific criteria for distinguishing polar from nonpolar powers and then measuring the distribution of capabilities to reveal the actual polarity of the system. When these tasks are performed, as in the present study, the international system in 1938 is shown to be a tripolar (not multipolar) system revolving around Germany, the Soviet Union, and the United States.
The goal of this book is twofold: to offer a new, structurally informed interpretation of the origins of World War II and to devise a systems theory that yields determinate balance–of–power predictions. To accomplish these tasks, Waltz’s systems theory is modified in two ways. First, the distribution of capabilities is measured not only by the number of Great Powers but also by their relative size. Second, states are identified as either (1) unlimited–aims revisionists, (2) limited–aims revisionists, (3) indifferent toward the status quo, (4) status quo but willing to accept peaceful and limited change, and (5) staunchly status quo and unwilling to accept change of any kind. These two elements, the capabilities and interests of the major powers, are the pillars of traditional realist theory and the basis of my model of international politics, which will be outlined in the following chapters.
Methodology: Expanded Observable Implications
Needless to say, the Second World War was, like all complex and momentous world events, the product of its unique historical moment. As such, it “does not fall neatly into a class of events that could be studied in a systematic comparative fashion through the application of general laws in a straightforward way.” 43 To be sure, unique events pose unique methodological and interpretive problems, problems not generally found in the analysis of simple phenomena or common events. Nevertheless, the scientific method can still be applied successfully to explain a singular case study, such as the Second World War. The key is to generate as many observable implications of the theory as possible. This task requires the researcher to ask, “If the world were as I describe it and it worked according to the theoretical principles I have deduced, what would be the observable implications of my theory?”
With regard to the present study, the logic of inference underlying this approach raises the question: “If the structure of the international system was tripolar and the interests of the states were as I claim prior to the Second World War, how should this have affected the behavior of the poles with each other and with the non–polar actors in the drama?” This question yields specific hypotheses, which are then used to direct the way data are collected, organized, and evaluated. The empirical fit of the researcher’s paradigm is tested against alternative hypotheses and explanations about the event. The more predictions a theory generates, the more tests we can construct to evaluate it. On this point, King, Keohane, and Verba suggest that one can “disaggregate to shorter time periods or smaller geographic areas. One can also collect information on dependent variables of less direct interest; if the results are as the theory predicts, we will have more confidence in the theory.” 44
In the current study, World War II is disaggregated across space and time into several cases by examining the alliance strategies and foreign policies of all the major powers (Britain, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, the Soviet Union, and the United States) during the period 1934–45. Cutting the data into shorter time periods and smaller geographical areas offers numerous observations against which the implications of the theory can be tested. Specifically, shorter time periods are analyzed by precisely measuring changes in the system’s structure that occurred between the years 1933 and 1940, and evaluating whether those structural changes affected the various foreign policies of the major powers in a manner consistent with the predictions of my theory or as predicted by alternative theories of the outbreak of the Second World War. With respect to smaller geographical areas, the system–wide effects predicted by my theory should also be felt within regional systems and specific sets of countries. The logic is straightforward: if the international system was tripolar this should have an observable effect not only on relations among the three poles but also on interactions between poles and second–tier Great Powers and among the lesser great powers (LGPs) themselves. Because the geographical location of states plays an important role in the nature and extent of their interactions with one another, my selection of particular sets of nations to investigate is partly, but not exclusively, guided by geographical considerations.
While disaggregating the tripolar system into its component parts or geographic networks permits more tests of the theory, it means that the data will not be all at the same level of analysis. This practice is conceptually sound, I believe, because the causes of global wars and major–power alliance choices are always a mixture of both regional and systemic motivations and conditions. The world has never simply exploded from peace to system–wide war—the transition always proceeds in stages, slowly diffusing conflict throughout the entire system. This is not to imply that systemic–level factors are unimportant in determining the causes of war and alliances. Rather, it is to suggest that collecting information at both the systemic and regional levels increases our understanding of the effects of structure on a specific country’s foreign–policy decisions at any given time. Further, it is one of the few tools available to the researcher of unique events for verifying whether the proposed theory or an alternative one better explains the case. 45
Goals and Outline of the Book
The story of World War II is not a mystery; there is no surprise ending. The purpose of this book is therefore not to uncover some new fact or set of facts that calls for a radical reinterpretation of the causes of the war. Instead, this study uses basic international relations theory to offer a new explanation for the pattern and sequence of events as we know them. It is my hope that this account is consistent with and complementary to the general historiography on the war. In the process of exploring the case, I have also looked for associations between variables that may be generalizable, with the ultimate goal of theory creation. The limits of my theory will be readily apparent to the reader; needless to say, the model does not explain everything. This is to be expected, for modern science will never devise a theoretical masterkey of history that, with a satisfying click, turns in every lock, opens all its dark chambers, and reveals all its secret workings. 46
The book proceeds as follows. Chapter 1 lays out the basic variables of the model and operationalizes them for the interwar period. Chapters 2 and 3 develop the hypotheses on tripolar dynamics and alliance patterns respectively that will guide the rest of the study. Chapter 4 applies the theoretical discussion of tripolarity to explain Hitler’s diplomatic and military strategy to achieve German world dominion. Chapters 5 and 6 test the various hypotheses generated in chapters 2 and 3 against the alliance behavior and foreign–policy strategies of all the Great Powers prior to and during the war. Chapter 7 summarizes the findings of the study and suggests how they might be relevant to our own increasingly tripolar world.
Randall L. Schweller
Endnotes
Note 1: Hitler, as quoted in Denis Mack Smith, Mussolini (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1981), p. 208. Back.
Note 2: Chester Wilmot, The Struggle For Europe (New York: Harper, 1952), p. 17. Back.
Note 3: Gerhard L. Weinberg, A World At Arms: A Global History of World War II (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), p. 2. Back.
Note 4: For instance, Sir Edward Grey writes of the onset of World War I: “ . . . one blow to the prospects of peace followed after another . . . they were . . . like the deliberate, relentless strokes of Fate, determined on human misfortune, as they are represented in a Greek tragedy. It was as if Peace were engaged in a struggle for life, and, whenever she seemed to have a chance, some fresh and more deadly blow was struck.” Viscount Edward Grey of Fallodon, Twenty–Five Years, 1892–1916, vol. 1 (New York: Frederick A. Stokes, 1925), pp. 314–315. Back.
Note 5: Meyers quoted in J. L. Richardson, “New Perspectives on Appeasement: Some Implications for International Relations,” World Politics, vol. 40, no. 3 (April 1988), p. 305. Back.
Note 6: Kenneth Waltz, Theory of International Politics (Reading, Mass.: Addison–Wesley, 1979), pp. 175–176. Back.
Note 7: Emerson M. S. Niou and Peter C. Ordeshook, “Stability in Anarchic International Systems,” American Political Science Review, vol. 84, no. 4 (December 1990), p. 1231. Back.
Note 8: John Mueller, “The Essential Irrelevance of Nuclear Weapons: Stability in the Postwar World,” International Security, vol. 13, no. 2 (Fall 1988), p. 75. Back.
Note 9: Edward Hallett Carr, What Is History? (London: Macmillan, 1961), p. 81. Back.
Note 10: For multipolar accounts of World War II, see Waltz, Theory of International Politics ; Barry Posen, The Sources of Military Doctrine: France, Britain, and Germany Between the World Wars (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1984); Thomas J. Christensen and Jack L. Snyder, “Chain Gangs and Passed Bucks: Predicting Alliance Patterns in Multipolarity,” International Organization, vol. 44, no. 2 (Spring 1990), pp. 137–169. Back.
Note 11: See William Dray, Perspectives on History (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1980), ch. 4; and Kenneth N. Waltz, Man, the State and War: A Theoretical Analysis (New York: Columbia University Press, 1959), pp. 232, 234, 238. Back.
Note 12: Kenneth N. Waltz, “Reflections on Theory of International Politics : A Response to My Critics,” in Robert O. Keohane, ed., Neorealism and Its Critics (New York: Columbia University Press, 1986), p. 329. Back.
Note 13: A. J. P. Taylor, The Origins of the Second World War (New York: Atheneum, 1961, [1983 ed.]), p. 103. Back.
Note 14: From F. H. Hinsley’s review of Taylor’s The Origins of the Second World War in Historical Journal, vol. 4, no. 2 (1961), pp. 227–228, as quoted in Dray, Perspectives on History, p. 91. Back.
Note 15: See, for instance, Hugh Trevor Roper, “A. J. P. Taylor, Hitler and the War,” in Wm. Roger Louis, ed., The Origins of the Second World War : A. J. P. Taylor and His Critics (New York: John Wiley, 1972), pp. 44–63. Back.
Note 16: For Hitler’s ideology of race and space, see Gerhard L. Weinberg, The Foreign Policy of Hitler’s Germany: Diplomatic Revolution in Europe, 1933–1936 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1970), ch. 1. Back.
Note 17: Robert Gilpin, War and Change In World Politics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), p. 37. Back.
Note 18: For the aims of “revolutionary states,” see Henry A. Kissinger, A World Restored: Castlereagh, Metternich, and the Problem of Peace, 1812–1822 (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1957). Back.
Note 19: Taylor, The Origins of the Second World War , p. xiii. Back.
Note 20: For a discussion of the “normal statesman” assumption, see Dray, Perspectives on History, ch. 4. Back.
Note 21: Taylor, The Origins of the Second World War , p. 71. Back.
Note 22: Ibid., pp. xix, 69, 86, 219. Back.
Note 23: Quoted in Erik Goldstein, “The Evolution of British Diplomatic Strategy for the Locarno Pact, 1924–1925,” in Michael Dockrill and Brian McKercher, eds., Diplomacy and World Power: Studies in British Foreign Policy, 1890–1950 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), p. 126. Back.
Note 24: See J. David Singer, “The Level of Analysis Problem in International Relations,” World Politics, vol. 14, no. 1 (October 1961), pp. 77–92; Arnold Wolfers, “The Actors in International Politics,” in Wolfers, Discord and Collaboration: Essays on International Politics (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 1962), pp. 3–24; Waltz, Man, the State, and War; James Rosenau, “Pre–Theories and Theories of Foreign Policy,” in R. Barry Farrell, ed., Approaches to Comparative and International Politics (Evanston, Ill.: Northwestern University Press, 1966), pp. 29–92; and Robert Jervis, Perception and Misperception in International Politics (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1976), ch. 1. Back.
Note 25: Dray, Perspectives on History, p. 91. Back.
Note 26: J. David Singer, “System Structure, Decision Processes, and the Incidence of International War,” in Manus I. Midlarsky, ed., Handbook of War Studies (Boston: Unwin Hyman, 1989), p. 3 Back.
Note 27: Inis Claude, Power and International Relations (New York: Random House, 1962), p. 42. Back.
Note 28: Herbert Simon defines a complex system as “one made up of a large number of parts that interact in a nonsimple way. In such systems the whole is more than the sum of the parts, not in an ultimate, metaphysical sense but in the important pragmatic sense that, given the properties of the parts and the laws of their interaction, it is not a trivial matter to infer the properties of the whole.” Herbert A. Simon, The Sciences of the Artificial, 2d. ed. (Cambridge: The MIT Press, 1969, [1981]), p. 195. Back.
Note 29: See Patrick Baert, “Unintended Consequences: A Typology and Examples,” International Sociology, vol. 6, no. 2 (June 1991), pp. 201–210. Back.
Note 30: For nonlinear and nonadditive relationships, see Robert Jervis, “Systems and Interaction Effects,” in Jack Snyder and Robert Jervis, eds., Coping With Complexity in the International System (Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 1993), pp. 25–26. Back.
Note 31: Ernest Nagel, The Structure of Science: Problems in the Logic of Scientific Explanation (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 1979), p. 425. Back.
Note 32: Waltz, Theory of International Politics , p. 18. Back.
Note 33: Morton A. Kaplan, Towards Professionalism in International Theory: Macrosystem Analysis (New York: Free Press, 1979), pp. 8–9. Back.
Note 34: For the most comprehensive account of the balance of power, see Michael Sheehan, Balance of Power: History and Theory (London: Routledge, 1996). For the indeterminateness of predictions yielded by balance–of–power theory, see Roslyn L. Simowitz, “The Logical Consistency and Soundness of the Balance of Power Theory,” in Karen Feste, ed., Monograph Series in World Affairs (Denver: Graduate School of International Studies, University of Denver, 1982), pp. 3–122; Claude, Power and International Relations ; Arnold Wolfers, “The Balance of Power in Theory and Practice,” in Wolfers, Discord and Collaboration, pp. 117–131; George Liska, Nations in Alliance: The Limits of Interdependence (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1962), pp. 26–27 passim; Ernest B. Haas, “The Balance of Power: Prescription, Concept or Propaganda?” World Politics, vol. 5, no. 4 (July 1953), pp. 442–477; Edward Vose Gulick, Europe’s Classical Balance of Power (New York: Norton, 1955); Carl Joachim Friedrich, Foreign Policy in the Making (New York: Norton, 1938), pp. 129–134. Back.
Note 35:
The idea that important actors are conditioned by the system serves Waltz’s theory in two ways. First, because a competitive system punishes and continually filters out unsuccessful behavior, Waltz need not assume that all units are indeed rational to predict rational behavior: “Competitive systems are regulated . . . by the ‘rationality’ of the more successful competitors.” Waltz, Theory of International Politics , p. 76. For the general argument, see Ibid., pp. 75–77, 118–119.
Second, though Waltz is not explicit on this point, the socialization process may be used to explain systemic continuity and change, that is, why historically some actors rise to or maintain Great–Power status, while others never attain or fall from the first–ranking tier. Yet Waltz ignores system change almost entirely, focusing instead on how to distinguish between changes within and of systems. This theoretical weakness is partially a result of Waltz’s strong association of structure with “enduring patterns” or continuity (Ibid., p. 70). Waltz argues that socialization and competition reduce variety by establishing norms, encouraging conformity, and rewarding rational (successful) behavior (Ibid., pp. 76–7). Back.
Note 38: These works include Joseph Grieco, “Anarchy and the Limits of Cooperation: A Realist Critique of the Newest Liberal Institutionalism,” International Organization, vol. 42, no. 3 (Summer 1988), pp. 485–507; John Mearsheimer, “Back to the Future: Instability in Europe After the Cold War,” International Security, vol. 15, no. 1 (Summer 1990), pp. 5–56; Christensen and Snyder, “Chain Gangs and Passed Bucks” Posen, The Sources of Military Doctrine; Stephen Walt, The Origins of Alliances (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1987); and Christopher Layne, “The Unipolar Illusion: Why New Great Powers Will Rise,” International Security, vol. 17, no. 4 (Spring 1993), pp. 5–51. Back.
Note 39: Helen Milner, “The Assumption of Anarchy in International Relations Theory: A Critique,” Review of International Studies, vol. 17, no. 1 (January 1991), pp. 67–85; David Dessler, “What’s At Stake in the Agent–Structure Debate?” International Organization, vol. 43, no. 3 (Summer 1989), pp. 441–473; Alexander Wendt, “The Agent–Structure Problem in International Relations Theory,” International Organization, vol. 41, no. 3 (Summer 1987), pp. 335–370; Robert O. Keohane, ed., Neorealism and Its Critics (New York: Columbia University Press, 1986); Richard Rosecrance, “International Theory Revisited” International Organization, vol. 35, no. 4 (Autumn 1981), pp. 691–713; and Kaplan, Towards Professionalism in International Theory, pp. 1–89. Back.
Note 40: See Richard Ashley, “The Poverty of Neorealism,” International Organization, vol. 38, no. 2 (Spring 1984), pp. 225–286. Glenn Snyder raises similar concerns in his critique of Walt’s The Origins of Alliances and Emerson M. S. Niou, Peter C. Ordeshook, and Gregory F. Rose, The Balance of Power: Stability in International Systems (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989). See Glenn H. Snyder, “Alliances, Balance, and Stability,” International Organization, vol. 45, no. 1 (Winter 1991), pp. 121–142, esp. pp. 124, 138. Back.
Note 41: Christensen and Snyder, “Chain Gangs and Passed Bucks,” pp. 137–147; Joseph S. Nye, “Neorealism and Neoliberalism,” World Politics, vol. 40, no. 2 (January 1988), p. 245; Robert O. Keohane, “Theory of World Politics: Structural Realism and Beyond,” in Ada W. Finifter, ed., Political Science: The State of the Discipline (Washington, D.C.: American Political Science Association, 1983), pp. 512–527; John Gerard Ruggie, “Continuity and Transformation in the World Polity: Toward a Neorealist Synthesis,” World Politics, vol. 35, no. 2 (January 1983), pp. 267–268. Back.
Note 42: See works cited in note 10. Back.
Note 43: Gary King, Robert O. Keohane, and Sidney Verba, Designing Social Inquiry: Scientific Inference in Qualitative Research (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), p. 10. Back.
Note 45: Ibid., pp. 49–51. Back.
Note 46: Hugh Trevor–Roper, “History and Imagination,” in Hugh Lloyd–Jones, Valerie Pearl, and Blair Worden, eds., History and Imagination: Essays in Honour of H. R. Trevor–Roper (London: Duckworth, 1981), p. 358. Back.
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