|
|
|
|
Tripolarity and Hitler’s Strategy of World Conquest
Randall L. Schweller
1998
1. The Capabilities and Interests of the Major Powers
Classical realism centered on two core elements: the capabilities and interests of the great powers. With regard to capabilities, traditional realists did not treat all great powers as equals. Instead, they ranked the great powers as being of the first or second (and sometimes third) tiers. This was and remains an essential task because capability inequalities among the great powers are the very motivation for Balance of Power theory and practices: they determine whether a balance exists and, when the system is imbalanced, whom the “balance” favors and in what ways states should react. A second focus of attention was the interests (or intentions) of the great powers. The key distinction in this regard was between satisfied defenders of the status quo and dissatisfied revisionist powers bent on overthrowing the established order. Today we might refer to these two types of states as security–maximizers and power–maximizers.
In contrast, Waltzian neorealism treats all great powers as “like units” in terms of their capabilities and interests. By eliminating this variation, Waltz constructs a new, more elegant and parsimonious version of realism that yields powerful insights about system dynamics and regularities in state behavior. The downside of greater parsimony and elegance, however, is that realism becomes a theory of international politics and not one of foreign policy. Furthermore, Waltz’s focus on abstraction and aggregation often obscures both variations in the properties of systems of the same structure and the processes by which states respond to threats and opportunities presented by their external environment. In this chapter, I modify Waltz’s theory to account for variations among the great powers. The revised theory more accurately models traditional realism than does neorealism. More important, by trading neorealism’s parsimony and rigor for greater richness and more determinate hypotheses about system dynamics and specific state behavior, realist theory and its insights can be applied to a specific case, such as World War II.
Two Modifications of Waltz’s Systems Theory
The Distribution of Capabilities
Waltz offers a tripartite theoretical definition of system structure:
He claims that because international politics take place within an anarchic realm and “as long as anarchy endures, states remain like units,” international systems differ only along the third dimension, the distribution of capabilities. 1 Waltz operationalizes this dimension by simply counting the number of Great Powers in the system; the total number of Great Powers defines the polarity of the system.
Using this definition of polarity, Waltz distinguishes between only two types of international systems: bipolar and multipolar. Declares Waltz: “Until 1945 the nation&-;state system was multipolar, and always with five or more powers. In all of modern history the structure of international politics has changed but once. We have only two systems to observe.” 2 Historically, however, the resources of the Great Powers have varied considerably and these imbalances often prove decisive in explaining their individual foreign–policy strategies. 3 The key question is, Does it matter that Waltz abstracts considerably from reality?
For Waltz, the answer is clearly no; his theory pertains to the properties of systems, not individual states. For those who would use his theory to explain foreign policy, 4 however, it does pose a problem, as Christensen and Snyder correctly point out. 5 To turn Waltz’s ideas into a theory of foreign policy, the descriptive accuracy of the theory must be improved to account for power inequalities among the major actors.
Not surprisingly, recent attempts to apply Waltz’s theory to analysis of the post–cold–war system have focused on power asymmetries among the Great Powers. For instance, Mearsheimer states: “Both [bipolar and multipolar] systems are more peaceful when equality is greatest among the poles.” 6 Many analysts, however, strongly disagree with this proposition. 7 Niou and Ordeshook conclude that system stability does not require “either a uniform or a highly asymmetric resource distribution.” 8 And Wagner and Niou, Ordeshook, and Rose maintain that the most “peaceful distribution” is one in which one actor is “near–predominant”—it controls exactly half of the system’s resources. 9
To specify more fully the distribution of capabilities, I employ a two–step process. First, each Great Power is weighted according to its relative share of the total resources of the major–power subsystem. This measure captures the relative power disparities among the Great Powers and it drives the analysis. By itself, however, it is too unwieldly to be useful as a way to classify different types of systems. To solve this problem, I further divide the Great Powers into two tiers: poles and Lesser Great Powers (hereafter LGPs). To qualify as a pole, a state must have greater than half the military capability of the most powerful state in the system; all other Great Powers are classed as LGPs. In simple terms, my definition of a pole means that the combined strength of any two poles must be enough to defeat a third pole. The further division among Great Powers into two tiers, poles and LGPs, also accords with the commonsense notion that poles must be Great Powers of the first rank. Diplomatic historians of the pre–1945 era frequently spoke of various tiers of Great Powers. Even during the bipolar Cold–War era, a two–tier distinction was intuitively, if not always explicitly, recognized: the fact that the United States and Soviet Union were the poles did not mean that Great Britain, France, Italy, West Germany, and Japan were not Great Powers—they were simply Great Powers of the second rank.
Compared with most states in the system, LGPs possess a considerable amount of military strength. Thus, unlike small states and middle powers, LGPs exert significant influence on the global and regional balances of power by either:
Yet, as second–ranking Great Powers, they cannot sustain themselves against threatening polar powers exclusively by their own resources of military personnel and material. Consequently, they must choose between either dependence upon the sufferance of a more powerful polar neighbor or reliance upon their own allies. Bondage of some sort is the unavoidable price LGPs have to pay for security. Like all nonpolar powers, LGPs seek external means (allies and%or foreign military and economic aid) to maintain themselves in the face of more powerful neighbors.
Because LGPs often do not possess sufficient resources to provide for their own security, they are typically in a position vis–à–vis potential allies of demanding more assistance than they can provide in return. For this reason, they may be perceived as unattractive alliance partners, unless their geographic position is of such extreme strategic significance that potential allies cannot afford for them to be overrun and controlled by the enemy. Polar powers, by contrast, usually have the option of supporting themselves by either external or internal means or some combination thereof. And because the security of lesser powers generally requires at least one polar ally, poles are well–placed within the system to receive aid.
More precise specification of the distribution of capabilities in the system is better descriptive theory. This is not unimportant, for if Waltz and other theorists have misspecified the distribution of capabilities for certain historical periods their analyses may be flawed. Indeed, because Waltz states that both the 1914 and 1939 systems are multipolar, his analyses of the origins of the First and Second World Wars are contradictory. As Christensen and Snyder correctly point out, under multipolarity “states are said [by Waltz] to be structurally prone to either of two opposite errors that destabilize the balancing system.” 10 They go on to show how perceived offensive/defensive advantage under multipolarity explains why states unconditionally balanced in 1914 (as if chained together, once one state went to war, its allies had to follow), while they attempted to ride free on the balancing efforts of others in 1939 (they passed the buck). Christensen and Snyder, however, fall into the same trap as Waltz: They assume that the systems of 1914 and 1939 are structurally comparable (if not entirely the same).
I will argue, instead, that the system changed during the 1930s, moving from multipolarity to tripolarity, and that this partly explains the origins and alliance dynamics of the Second World War. According to data generated by the Correlates of War (COW) project, by 1938 the combined capabilities of the United States, the Soviet Union, and Germany accounted for more than 70 percent of the total power capabilities held by the Great Powers, and this 70 percent share was evenly distributed among the three powers. 11 And yet, while there has been a fair amount of scholarly discussion acknowledging the volatility of the triangular “political” nature of the interwar period—namely, the ideological battle between fascism, liberal democracy, and communism—the interwar system’s tripolar power configuration has gone largely unnoticed. Consequently, structural theories of international politics have ignored the properties of tripolarity, 12 focusing instead on unipolar, bipolar, and multipolar (four–or–more–actor) systems. 13 The general point is that changes of the system, such as the one that occurred between the two world wars, often go undetected when cruder measures of the distribution of capabilities are used.
An important caveat must be made here: statesmen act on their subjective understanding of the distribution of power, and this sometimes diverges from the objective situation. Consequently, as William Wohlforth points out: “If ‘power’ influences international relations, it must do so through the perceptions of those who act on behalf of the state. The quantitative measures of power used in the literature to test various power theories are thus estimators of perceived power.” 14 To the extent that the success of their policies depends on correctly assessing the distribution of power, statesmen will be highly motivated to try to get it right. Of course, some actors will do the job better than others, and occasionally an actor will wildly misperceive the structure. Prior to an actual test of strength, all actors are essentially making informed guesses about each other’s relative power; only war can truly clarify the situation.
When perceptions markedly differ from the objective reality, theories based on the objective structure of the system will fail to predict the behavior of those actors that hold these misperceptions. But this fact does not invalidate the usefulness of structural theory, nor does it greatly complicate the analysis. Structural theories can still explain why, given the actor’s subjective understanding of the structure, it behaved as it did and why the policy failed. This is because the objective structure inevitably affects the actors whether they perceive it correctly or not. Usually, but by no means in every instance, structure rewards those who pursue policies in accordance with its dictates and punishes (by thwarting their policy aims) those who do not.
The Character of the Units: State Interest
Waltz describes the units as “unitary rational actors, who, at a minimum, seek their own preservation and, at a maximum, drive for universal domination.” 15 He further asserts that, for his theory to work, it need not be assumed that “all of the competing states are striving relentlessly to increase their power,” only that some states continue to maintain an interest in preserving themselves. 16 While acknowledging that states do not always seek to maximize their power, Waltz does not incorporate this variance as a model–based feature; it simply washes out of the analysis. States are described instead as like units. This is important for two reasons.
First, the characteristic balancing behavior of Waltz’s self–help system is triggered precisely by states that wish not simply to survive but also to weaken and destroy other states and, at a maximum, to achieve universal supremacy. 17 Since Waltz makes no attempt to determine the extent of a state’s goals from its structural position in the system, the catalyst driving his balance–of–power theory must come from outside the boundaries of his system. 18 Second, Waltz’s theory assumes that systems of the same polarity behave similarly despite differences in the power–seeking interests of the units. Indeed, the separate effect of structure on the behavior of the system—that is, the effect of structure apart from unit–level causes and attributes—is the very essence of his theory. Yet, Stephen Walt convincingly shows that states balance against threats rather than imbalances of power. 19 This means that changes in unit interests alone can drastically alter system dynamics and stability.
At bottom, Waltzian neorealism suffers from a status–quo bias: that is, it views the world solely through the lens of a satisfied established state. 20 In contrast, traditional realists invariably distinguished between two types of states: Morgenthau called them imperialistic and status–quo powers; Schuman employed the terms satiated and unsatiated powers; Kissinger referred to revolutionary and status–quo states; Carr distinguished satisfied from dissatisfied Powers; Johannes Mattern, among other geopoliticians, divided the world into “have” and “have–nots,” Wolfers referred to status quo and revisionist states; and Aron saw eternal opposition between the forces of revision and conservation.
Unlike traditional realists, who recognized that the primary goal of some states is aggrandizement rather than security, contemporary realists typically assume that states are willing to pay high costs and take great risks to protect the values they possess but will only pay a small price and take low risks to improve their position in the system. 21 Thus, Joseph Grieco declares that “states, according to realist theory, are profoundly defensive actors.” 22 Similarly, Waltz writes:
In anarchy, security is the highest end. Only if survival is assured can states safely seek such other goals as tranquility, profit, and power. Because power is a means and not an end, states prefer to join the weaker of two coalitions....If states wished to maximize power, they would join the stronger side....[t]his does not happen because balancing, not bandwagoning, is the behavior induced by the system. The first concern of states is not to maximize power but to maintain their positions in the system. 23
Waltz is right to say that states seeking to maximize their power will bandwagon, not balance. But it is simply not true that the first concern of all states is security. 24 Here, he takes a distinctly status–quo perspective. 25 Only in reference to satisfied countries can it be said that the primary goal is “to maintain their positions in the system.” 26 In contrast, classical Realists described the “true interests” of states as “a continuous striving for greater power and expansion.” For them, the goal of diplomacy was “to evaluate correctly the interplay of opposing forces and interests and to create a constellation favorable to conquest and expansion.” 27
Preventing relative losses in power and prestige is sound advice for satisfied states that seek, above all, to keep what they have. But staying in place is not the primary goal of revisionist states. They want to increase their values and to improve their position in the system. These goals cannot be achieved simply by ensuring that everyone else does not gain relative to them. They must gain relative to others; and throughout history states striving for greater relative power, often driven by prestige demands for their rightful “place at the table” or “place in the sun,” have routinely sacrificed their security in such a quest. 28 As Raymond Aron points out: “All great states have jeopardized their survival to gain ulterior objectives. Hitler preferred, for himself and for Germany, the possibility of empire to the security of survival. Nor did he want empire—or an accumulation of power—as a means to security.” 29
Calling for a New Order, dissatisfied states are attracted to expanding revisionist powers. Waltz overlooks such states when he asserts: “Secondary states, if they are free to choose, flock to the weaker side; for it is the stronger side that threatens them. On the weaker side they are both more appreciated and safer[.]” 30 States are safer on the weaker side? This is a curious claim. Are they also more appreciated by the weaker side?
Consider, for instance, the case of Italy in 1936. Mussolini believed that he would be more appreciated and politically autonomous as Hitler’s satellite than as a member of the weaker Anglo–French coalition. Unlike Britain and France, Nazi Germany supported Mussolini’s goal of turning the Mediterranean into an “Italian Lake.” 31 Moreover, Mussolini’s decision to hitch Italy’s wagon to the rising Nazi star was motivated by his raw Social–Darwinist predilections. As Alan Cassels asserts, “Fascists worshipped strength, and what Mussolini called a fascist foreign policy meant in effect siding with the strongest power.” 32
In the end, Italy paid a high price for siding with Germany. It did not prove to be the safer choice, but not because Italy joined the stronger coalition, as Waltz’s logic would have us believe. To the contrary, Italy was crushed because, after the U.S. actively entered the war, it was on the weaker side.
The general point is that most states, even of the Great–Power variety, must ultimately serve someone: only “top dogs” can expect otherwise. And because members of military alliances always sacrifice some foreign–policy autonomy, the most important determinant of alignment decisions is the compatibility of political goals, not imbalances of power or threat. 33 Satisfied powers join the status–quo coalition, even when it is the stronger side; dissatisfied powers, motivated by profit more than security, bandwagon with an ascending revisionist state.
For these reasons, I treat the power preferences of the actors as a model–based feature that both differentiates the units of the system and, as a result, systems of the same structure. By relaxing neorealism’s assumption that states value what they possess more than what they covet, the full range of state interest emerges: some states value what they covet more than what they have; others are entirely satisfied with their possessions; still others value what they have only slightly more than what they covet, and vice versa; and some states consider their possessions to be meager but are not envious of others.
We may conceptualize this range of state interest in the following way. Let x be the costs a given state is willing to pay to defend the status quo; and y be the costs the same state is willing to pay to revise it; 34 and let x and y range from 0 to n. The state’s interest can then be represented as x – y and will fall somewhere on the horizontal axis in Figure 1.1 (below). In this formulation, the concept of state interest is treated as a continuous variable that, in theory, can take on all possible numerical values in a given interval. For the purpose of analysis, however, it is useful to simplify somewhat by viewing the concept as an orderable discrete variable in which (in this case) five categories are arranged from smallest to largest.
States residing at the extreme positive end of the scale are staunchly in support of the status quo and will resist, with all of their resources, any modification of it for fear that even a small change will cause the whole existing order to unravel. These are usually states that won the last major–power war and created a new world order in accordance with their interests by redistributing territory and prestige. 35 As satiated powers, these staunchly status–quo powers seek to protect the established order and to maintain their relative position; for them, the costs of nonsecurity expansion exceed the gains.
Immediately to the left of this category are satisfied states that support limited and peaceful revision of the status quo in order to satisfy the legitimate claims of unsatisfied states and thereby preserve the essential characteristics of the existing international order. States that fall in the middle of the scale are indifferent toward the status quo and generally seek to avoid the costs of either maintaining or modifying it. To the left of these states are what I call “limited–aims” revisionist states. These states either do not have the capabilities to aspire to anything more than limited revision and/or value some aspects of the existing order but want to modify it to their advantage. Though generally complaining about their treatment by the established powers, these states will, under certain circumstances, support the status quo. At the extreme end of the scale are “unlimited–aims” revisionists, which aspire to conquer the world (or a large portion of it) and so must be great powers of the first rank.
By dividing states into five distinct categories, this scheme takes into account the very real and important difference between a state that is somewhat revisionist and one that is truly revisionist; and between status–quo and doggedly status–quo states. It is worth pointing out, however, that the scheme is still based on the traditional realist classification of states as either satisfied or dissatisfied. Status–quo states are security maximizers (as opposed to power–maximizers), whose goal is to preserve the resources they already control. The statement by Britain’s First Lord of the Admiralty in June 1934, for instance, precisely captures the interests of a status–quo power: “We are in the remarkable position of not wanting to quarrel with anybody because we have got most of the world already or the best parts of it and we only want to keep what we have got and prevent others from taking it away from us.” 36 Revisionist states, by contrast, seek to undermine the established order for the purpose of increasing their power and prestige in the system; that is, they seek to increase, not just to maintain, their resources. For these states, the gains from nonsecurity expansion exceed the costs of war. 37 Revisionist states are often those states that have increased their power “after the existing international order was fully established and the benefits were already allocated.” 38 Thus, they often share a common desire to overturn the status quo order—the prestige, resources, and principles of the system.
Revisionist states are not always actively engaged in overturning the status quo; they may be temporarily passive because they lack the relative economic, military, and/or political capabilities needed to challenge the protector(s) of the status quo (examples of revisionist states are the Soviet Union, 1919–39; Germany, 1919–36; and Japan, 1919–31). Buzan points out, “even the most rabid revisionist state cannot pursue its larger objectives if it cannot secure its home base.” 39 It should also be noted that revisionist states need not be predatory powers; they may oppose the status quo for defensive reasons. As Schuman comments, revisionist states typically “feel humiliated, hampered, and oppressed by the status quo” and thus “demand changes, rectifications of frontiers, a revision of treaties, a redistribution of territory and power” to modify it. 40
To some readers, it may appear that the pairing between security–maximizing and power–maximizing is illogical, for power is a means to security and other goals; so–called power–maximizers are really maximizers of prestige, economic wealth, and other values parallel to security. Further, as realists correctly point out, the logic of anarchy means that power is the fundamental feature of international politics; it is the ultimate basis for any state aim, whether it seeks world mastery or simply to be left alone. I fully concur with the notion that power and security are often complementary goals; but sometimes they are not. Excessive accumulations of power can make a state less secure, and too much emphasis on security can weaken a state’s overall power. The distinction I am trying to make between power–maximizing and security–maximizing is a traditional and commonsense one; it is the difference between the goal of making gains and that of avoiding losses.
By elevating the concept of state interest to an equally prominent position as that occupied by the distribution of capabilities, the model more accurately reflects the twin–pillared aspect of traditional realist theory—its equal focus on both the power and interests of states. Unlike Waltz’s theory, which is all structure and no units, the revised theory contains complex unit–structure interactions, such that predictions are codetermined by the power and interests of the units and the structures within which they are embedded. Because neither level is “ontologically primitive,” the theory offers a partial solution to the agent–structure problem raised by Wendt. 41
Other factors, such as geography, military technology, and misperception of structure, might be added to the theory. 42 While these elements will be mentioned when necessary, I do not fully incorporate them within the model. To do otherwise, I believe, would be to unnecessarily complicate the theory, since it is my contention that these factors are generally less important than the power and interests of the units—without which geography and military technology provide only partial answers. Supporting this view, Posen has tested hypotheses on geography and military technology against the military doctrines of interwar France, Britain, and Germany, and he concluded that these factors alone are indeterminate. 43
To this point, I have defined the two essential elements of a systems theory of international politics as the structure of the system and the power–seeking interests of the units. The relative sizes of the Great Powers determine the structure of the system. At the unit level, states are identified according to their level of support for or dissatisfaction with the status quo. By including both unit and structural attributes in the definition of the international system, what emerges is both a positional and ideational model of system structure. That is, the theory derives hypotheses about system stability and state behavior based on the arrangement of the units and their interests or identities.
Operationalizing the Variables for the Case:
1. Capabilities of the Major–Powers Between the Wars
Data from the Correlates of War (COW) project is used to measure the relative capabilities of the major powers. I have chosen the COW Capability data set for two reasons. First, the present study is concerned with the relative “fighting capabilities” of states. The COW measures stress is on military forces–in–being, which is appropriate for the present analysis. It will be shown that statesmen, in choosing their course of action, responded to the current Balance of Power : e.g., by 1937, Hitler saw Germany’s military advantage as a wasting asset and so decided to wage a series of offensive wars before his window of opportunity closed; that the United States could have extracted far more resources from its economy than it had by 1938 provided little comfort to Britain and France in 1940 and the Soviet Union in 1941.
Though it will remain a debatable point, I believe that the measures comprising the COW index provide a reasonably accurate picture of the power bases held by the major actors with respect to their relative fighting capabilities. Originally a skeptic myself, I arrived at this view after having constructed my own “capability–index formula” (see the appendix to the book) to test the validity and reliability of the COW numbers for the period 1938–40. My formula consists of ten separate power indices—eight of which are not used in the COW capability index—that attempt to measure the critical mass (population and territory), economic war potential, and military capabilities of the Great Powers. The result of this mini–experiment was that the Great–Power capability shares yielded by my index are virtually identical to those given by the COW index.
Second, because the COW index is the most widely used and available data set, skeptics should have no difficulty in checking my results. By using the COW capability index, I have attempted to minimize criticism of my study on the basis of measurement alone. That said, I am under no illusion that one can entirely eliminate criticism along these lines, regardless of what measures are chosen. Nevertheless, structural–realist studies demand specification in one way or another of the relative capabilities of the major actors, and for this task there are simply too many disadvantages in relying solely on my own or some other, more obscure index. I am confident in the descriptive accuracy of my own power index, however, and the reader may, if s/he so chooses, substitute it for the COW index.
COW capability scores reflect three distinct measures of national power:
Each component is divided into two subcomponents. The military dimension consists of the number of military personnel and military expenditures; the industrial component is measured by production of pig iron (pre–1900) or ingot steel (post–1900) and fuel consumption; and the demographic component is divided into urban and total population. The composite power index is the sum of each state’s mean score for the six measures as a percentage of all scores within the Great–Power subset.
Table 1.1 provides the following data for all seven major powers for the years 1930 through 1940:
Table 1.1: Percentage Distribution of the COW Index Among the Major Powers, 1930–1940
| Military Strength | Economic Strength | Population | ||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
|
|
Personnel | Expendit | Energy Consump | Iron & Steel Prod | Urban Pop | Total Pop | Overall Strength 1 |
Relative Strength 2 |
| USA | ||||||||
| 1930 | 11.19% | 11.90% | 55.77% | 56.21% | 32.41% | 23.08% | 31.76% | 5.00 |
| 1931 | 11.02% | 11.93% | 53.51% | 60.37% | 31.64% | 22.95% | 31.90% | 5.00 |
| 1932 | 10.28% | 14.68% | 51.24% | 45.76% | 30.80% | 22.79% | 29.26% | 5.00 |
| 1933 | 8.89% | 11.85% | 51.65% | 55.16% | 29.94% | 22.64% | 30.02% | 5.00 |
| 1934 | 8.13% | 11.52% | 50.31% | 50.98% | 29.05% | 22.54% | 28.76% | 5.00 |
| 1935 | 5.39% | 7.86% | 50.13% | 40.81% | 28.17% | 22.46% | 25.81% | 4.95 |
| 1936 | 7.52% | 9.80% | 51.58% | 44.10% | 27.23% | 22.37% | 27.10% | 5.00 |
| 1937 | 7.48% | 8.54% | 50.80% | 43.57% | 26.26% | 22.30% | 26.49% | 5.00 |
| 1938 | 7.20% | 5.89% | 46.23% | 30.32% | 25.40% | 22.25% | 22.88% | 4.58 |
| 1939 | 4.52% | 3.24% | 50.23% | 39.80% | 25.17% | 22.35% | 24.22% | 5.00 |
| 1940 | 2.76% | 3.52% | 52.88% | 49.77% | 25.09% | 22.31% | 26.06% | 5.00 |
| UK | ||||||||
| 1930 | 13.90% | 8.71% | 13.47% | 0.60% | 16.37% | 8.65% | 10.28% | 1.60 |
| 1931 | 13.90% | 8.35% | 14.18% | 0.65% | 15.94% | 8.55% | 10.26% | 1.60 |
| 1932 | 13.30% | 7.47% | 14.98% | 1.14% | 15.46% | 8.49% | 10.14% | 1.70 |
| 1933 | 11.51% | 6.92% | 14.10% | 0.32% | 14.97% | 8.41% | 9.37% | 1.56 |
| 1934 | 10.46% | 7.74% | 14.09% | 1.91% | 14.46% | 8.35% | 9.50% | 1.65 |
| 1935 | 6.87% | 6.30% | 13.61% | 11.80% | 13.92% | 8.30% | 10.13% | 1.94 |
| 1936 | 8.68% | 9.38% | 13.10% | 10.88% | 13.35% | 8.25% | 10.61% | 1.96 |
| 1937 | 8.39% | 10.30% | 12.69% | 11.19% | 12.90% | 8.21% | 10.61% | 2.00 |
| 1938 | 8.39% | 9.71% | 13.05% | 11.12% | 12.44% | 8.17% | 10.48% | 2.10 |
| 1939 | 5.33% | 26.10% | 13.37% | 11.16% | 12.28% | 8.17% | 12.74% | 2.60 |
| 1940 | 6.16% | 21.11% | 12.72% | 10.80% | 12.22% | 8.09% | 11.85% | 2.27 |
| FR | ||||||||
| 1930 | 17.97% | 8.48% | 7.14% | 12.84% | 5.75% | 7.82% | 10.00% | 1.57 |
| 1931 | 19.22% | 8.45% | 7.31% | 17.90% | 5.65% | 7.74% | 11.05% | 1.72 |
| 1932 | 17.70% | 12.43% | 7.19% | 18.57% | 5.47% | 7.64% | 11.50% | 1.96 |
| 1933 | 16.35% | 10.89% | 7.09% | 15.37% | 5.29% | 7.55% | 10.42% | 1.73 |
| 1934 | 15.07% | 10.15% | 6.47% | 11.85% | 5.10% | 7.48% | 9.35% | 1.62 |
| 1935 | 11.73% | 8.46% | 5.92% | 7.37% | 4.90% | 7.40% | 7.63% | 1.46 |
| 1936 | 15.19% | 10.46% | 5.49% | 6.08% | 4.70% | 7.32% | 8.21% | 1.51 |
| 1937 | 14.70% | 7.36% | 5.62% | 6.69% | 4.49% | 7.26% | 7.69% | 1.45 |
| 1938 | 12.96% | 4.79% | 5.60% | 6.46% | 4.31% | 7.18% | 6.88% | 1.37 |
| 1939 | 7.87% | 3.38% | 5.13% | 6.61% | 4.26% | 7.14% | 5.73% | 1.18 |
| 1940 | 30.18% | 12.11% | 4.58% | 0.34% | 4.24% | 7.03% | 9.75% | 1.80 |
| GR | ||||||||
| 1930 | 4.98% | 2.77% | 13.01% | 17.04% | 17.34% | 11.12% | 11.04% | 1.73 |
| 1931 | 4.97% | 2.51% | 12.23% | 0.67% | 17.05% | 11.31% | 8.12% | 1.27 |
| 1932 | 4.78% | 3.42% | 12.21% | 2.54% | 16.71% | 11.53% | 8.53% | 1.45 |
| 1933 | 4.30% | 9.39% | 12.05% | 1.44% | 16.34% | 11.76% | 9.21% | 1.53 |
| 1934 | 10.37% | 10.17% | 12.45% | 22.96% | 15.94% | 11.76% | 13.94% | 2.42 |
| 1935 | 9.87% | 15.68% | 12.58% | 19.38% | 15.50% | 11.76% | 14.13% | 2.71 |
| 1936 | 15.40% | 24.51% | 12.65% | 17.45% | 15.05% | 11.77% | 16.14% | 2.97 |
| 1937 | 14.46% | 27.28% | 13.22% | 16.83% | 14.54% | 11.74% | 16.35% | 3.08 |
| 1938 | 17.44% | 38.61% | 15.11% | 23.84% | 14.10% | 11.76% | 20.14% | 4.03 |
| 1939 | 37.23% | 39.67% | 17.31% | 20.37% | 15.74% | 13.55% | 23.98% | 4.95 |
| 1940 | 19.92% | 44.98% | 16.50% | 18.27% | 16.66% | 14.32% | 21.77% | 4.17 |
| IT | ||||||||
| 1930 | 14.56% | 4.53% | 1.77% | 2.37% | 6.19% | 7.72% | 6.19% | 0.97 |
| 1931 | 13.68% | 5.09% | 1.79% | 3.23% | 6.24% | 7.66% | 6.28% | 0.98 |
| 1932 | 14.85% | 6.47% | 1.76% | 4.60% | 6.16% | 7.62% | 6.91% | 1.18 |
| 1933 | 13.22% | 7.30% | 1.82% | 4.14% | 6.07% | 7.59% | 6.69% | 1.11 |
| 1934 | 11.91% | 6.54% | 1.98% | 3.56% | 5.97% | 7.57% | 6.25% | 1.08 |
| 1935 | 29.54% | 5.01% | 2.08% | 0.25% | 5.85% | 7.56% | 8.38% | 1.60 |
| 1936 | 8.86% | 12.08% | 1.55% | 1.84% | 5.73% | 7.54% | 6.27% | 1.15 |
| 1937 | 11.18% | 10.22% | 1.78% | 1.77% | 5.58% | 7.53% | 6.34% | 1.20 |
| 1938 | 10.84% | 3.88% | 1.84% | 2.44% | 5.45% | 7.52% | 5.33% | 1.06 |
| 1939 | 7.87% | 2.21% | 1.77% | 1.90% | 5.46% | 7.51% | 4.45% | 0.92 |
| 1940 | 9.86% | 1.29% | 1.63% | 0.21% | 5.49% | 7.42% | 4.32% | 0.83 |
| USSR | ||||||||
| 1930 | 24.57% | 59.88% | 4.76% | 7.83% | 12.24% | 29.51% | 23.13% | 3.64 |
| 1931 | 24.49% | 59.88% | 6.58% | 12.87% | 13.49% | 29.68% | 24.50% | 3.84 |
| 1932 | 23.57% | 50.97% | 7.76% | 19.51% | 14.82% | 29.79% | 24.40% | 4.07 |
| 1933 | 32.23% | 49.08% | 8.37% | 16.10% | 16.24% | 29.90% | 25.32% | 4.22 |
| 1934 | 30.93% | 49.90% | 9.50% | 1.33% | 17.75% | 30.11% | 23.25% | 4.04 |
| 1935 | 27.83% | 53.81% | 10.28% | 14.85% | 19.35% | 30.30% | 26.07% | 5.00 |
| 1936 | 33.59% | 30.83% | 10.77% | 14.90% | 21.05% | 30.50% | 23.61% | 4.35 |
| 1937 | 34.36% | 28.50% | 10.46% | 15.03% | 22.79% | 30.74% | 23.65% | 4.46 |
| 1938 | 34.92% | 28.27% | 11.77% | 19.00% | 24.77% | 30.95% | 24.95% | 5.00 |
| 1939 | 24.22% | 19.78% | 12.19% | 14.60% | 23.40% | 29.10% | 20.55% | 4.24 |
| 1940 | 25.35% | 13.04% | 11.69% | 15.00% | 22.44% | 28.70% | 19.37% | 3.71 |
| JP | ||||||||
| 1930 | 12.81% | 3.72% | 4.08% | 3.11% | 9.70% | 12.11% | 7.59% | 1.19 |
| 1931 | 12.72% | 3.79% | 4.39% | 4.31% | 9.99% | 12.11% | 7.89% | 1.23 |
| 1932 | 15.52% | 4.56% | 4.86% | 7.89% | 10.57% | 12.13% | 9.25% | 1.58 |
| 1933 | 13.51% | 4.57% | 4.93% | 7.47% | 11.15% | 12.16% | 8.96% | 1.49 |
| 1934 | 13.13% | 3.99% | 5.19% | 7.40% | 11.73% | 12.19% | 8.94% | 1.55 |
| 1935 | 8.78% | 2.88% | 5.39% | 5.54% | 12.31% | 12.22% | 7.85% | 1.50 |
| 1936 | 10.75% | 2.94% | 4.85% | 4.75% | 12.89% | 12.25% | 8.07% | 1.48 |
| 1937 | 9.42% | 7.79% | 5.43% | 4.92% | 13.44% | 12.23% | 8.87% | 1.67 |
| 1938 | 8.25% | 8.85% | 6.40% | 6.81% | 13.52% | 12.17% | 9.33% | 1.86 |
| 1939 | 12.96% | 5.62% | 0.00% | 5.56% | 13.69% | 12.19% | 8.34% | 1.72 |
| 1940 | 5.78% | 3.95% | 0.00% | 5.62% | 13.86% | 12.12% | 6.89% | 1.32 |
1. Percent Share of Major Power Subset.
2. Top Score = 5.
Table 1.2 shows the relative strengths of the major powers from 1933 to 1940. As the data indicate, prior to 1935, the international system was bipolar, with the United States and the Soviet Union as the two poles. The remaining major powers were LGPs, but Germany was on the verge of attaining polar status. Britain and France, which possessed far less than half the capabilities of the most powerful state in the system (the U.S.), had fallen from the first to the second tier of Great Powers, which also included Japan and Italy.
| Table 1.2:The Relative Strengths of the Major Powers (with Percentage Share of the Major Power Capabilities). | |||||||
| Year | US | USSR | Germany | UK | France | Italy | Japan |
| 1933 | 5.00 | 4.22 | 1.53 | 1.56 | 1.73 | 1.11 | 1.49 |
| (30.02) | (25.32) | (9.21) | (9.37) | (10.42) | (6.69) | (8.96) | |
| 1934 | 5.00 | 4.04 | 2.42 | 1.65 | 1.62 | 1.08 | 1.55 |
| (28.76) | (23.25) | (13.94) | (9.50) | (9.35) | (6.25) | (8.94) | |
| 1935 | 4.95 | 5.00 | 2.71 | 1.94 | 1.46 | 1.60 | 1.50 |
| (25.81) | (26.07) | (14.13) | (10.13) | (7.63) | (8.38) | (7.85) | |
| 1936 | 5.00 | 4.35 | 2.97 | 1.96 | 1.51 | 1.15 | 1.48 |
| (27.10) | (23.61) | (16.14) | (10.61) | (8.21) | (6.27) | (8.07) | |
| 1937 | 5.00 | 4.46 | 3.08 | 2.00 | 1.45 | 1.20 | 1.67 |
| (26.49) | (23.65) | (16.35) | (10.61) | (7.69) | (6.34) | (8.87) | |
| 1938 | 4.58 | 5.00 | 4.03 | 2.10 | 1.37 | 1.06 | 1.86 |
| (22.48) | (24.95) | (20.14) | (10.48) | (6.88) | (5.33) | (9.33) | |
| 1939 | 5.00 | 4.24 | 4.95 | 2.60 | 1.18 | .92 | 1.72 |
| (24.22) | (20.55) | (23.98) | (12.74) | (5.73) | (4.45) | (8.34) | |
| 1940 | 5.00 | 3.71 | 4.17 | 2.27 | 1.80 | .83 | 1.32 |
| (26.06) | (19.37) | (21.77) | (11.85) | (9.75) | (4.32) | (6.89) | |
| Sources: I have compiled the data using the “Correlates of War Capability Data Set Printout” from July 1990. | |||||||
By 1935, the bipolar system evolved into a tripolar system, as Germany attained weak third–pole status. During this early stage of rearmament, Germany would require allies to counterbalance either of the other two poles. By 1938, German strength had substantially increased, creating a virtual equilateral tripolar system, in which all three poles possessed roughly equal shares of between 20 and 25 percent of total Great–Power capabilities and were far stronger than any of the other major powers.
2. Interests of the Major Powers Between the Wars
The Revisionist Powers
Germany
The Treaty of Versailles cut back Germany’s frontiers in the east, forbade its union with Austria in the south, and demilitarized a large industrial area in the west. It imposed severe limits on the size of Germany’s armed forces and prohibited certain weapons and activities entirely. It imposed on Germany what were called economic “reparations” (rather than “indemnities”), which covered all the war costs of Belgium, the future costs of the other allies for reconstruction, and payments to survivors of those killed in battle. Lastly, it stripped Germany of all its colonies, which were placed into a newly devised category of “mandates” under the control of Britain, France, Japan, South Africa, New Zealand, and Australia. 44
The French demand for permanent military control of the Rhineland, however, was denied by the British and Americans. Instead, the treaty provided only for the temporary military occupation of the Rhineland by allied troops and for its permanent demilitarization. To this, the Anglo–Saxon countries added a guarantee to assist the French in the event of an unprovoked German attack. These treaties, however, never became effective, leaving France without even its second–best solution to its security problem.
From the start, Germany was determined to overthrow the established order of Versailles. Unlike Nazi Germany, however, Weimar Germany was a limited–aims revisionist power, seeking only to free Germany from the “shackles of Versailles.” Even Gustav Stresemann, who inaugurated the policy of rapprochement with France and at Locarno waived German claims to Alsace and Lorraine, agreed to the permanent demilitarization of the Rhineland. He promised that Germany would not use force to change its boundaries in the east, but was determined to revise the most unjust and untenable provisions of the Versailles settlement. Stresemann believed that evidence of Germany’s “good behavior” would gradually allay France’s fears and pave the way toward substantial concessions. 45
When Hitler arrived on the scene, Germany became an unlimited–aims revisionist power: it set out to conquer the world or, at a minimum, a large portion of it. Hitler’s actions were designed not to enhance Germany’s security but rather to increase its power; he viewed the Reich’s possessions as meager, and so would risk very little to protect them. Consider, for instance, the logic of the Nazi–Soviet nonaggression pact from Germany’s perspective. Esmonde M. Robertson writes:
Virtually all of Lithuania, previously a vital German interest, was to pass to the Soviet sphere of influence. The two remaining Baltic states, and even Finland, were to be included in the Soviet sphere. Bialystok in northern Poland, which was valued for its timber as well as the oil wells east of the San in the south, together with the town of Lemberg, which had a strong Germany minority, were to be handed over to the Russians....That the Soviet Union should have a free gift of territory conquered for it by the German army and in which Germany had either cultural or economic interests, was regarded as preposterous by the opponents of the regime....There can be little doubt that for the immediate future Stalin seemed to have gained more from the treaty than Hitler. He could now strengthen the Soviet Union’s military economy and raise the striking power of the Red Army. The additional territories in the west moreover made it possible for him....to adopt a strategy of defense in depth. 46
The far–reaching concessions made by Hitler in the Nazi–Soviet pact are inconsistent with neorealism’s central claim that states are security–maximizers that seek relative, not absolute, gains. If ever there was an “easy case” for confirming the hypothesis that concern for relative gains inhibits cooperation, this was it: two powerful, greedy, untrustworthy states, in close geographic proximity to one another, whose regimes had recently pilloried each other as the negation of everything for which the other stood. For these reasons, even if the agreement had not contained relative gains for the Soviet Union, most realists would not have predicted cooperation between these two states.
By allowing the Soviets to make relative gains vis–à–vis Germany, Hitler defied neorealist logic: he decreased Germany’s security, at least over the short run. This is not surprising, however, since Hitler’s foreign policy was driven not by security but instead by his obsession to become master of Europe and then the world. To change the status quo for Germany, Hitler was willing to pay high costs and take great risks. If this meant that deals had to be struck by which Germany gained relatively less than its partners in crime, so be it. Of course, Hitler understood that these gaps in gains benefiting Germany’s partners carried the risk of decreasing the Reich’s security. But then, states do not wage apocalyptic wars if they are unwilling to put their security—indeed, their survival—at risk. As Hillgruber put it, “the sentence printed in bold–face letters in Mein Kampf, ‘Germany will either be a world power or there will be no Germany,’ was, quite literally, the crux of Hitler’s program.” 47
The Soviet Union
One of the original allies in the war against Germany, Russia was not even invited to the Versailles Peace Conference. The Bolsheviks, who had gained power in November 1917, pulled Russia out of the war on March 1918, when they signed a peace treaty dictated by Germany. Russia’s withdrawal from the war facilitated Germany’s final bid for total victory. The Western allies would never forgive the Bolsheviks, whom they despised anyway, for this treachery.
Driven by a universalistic ideology of revision, the Soviet Union struggled for many years after the peace to gain influence on the Continent, to undermine the social order of Western Europe, and to promote world revolution. It should not be surprising, therefore, that the victors would treat Soviet Russia as a “pariah state” and cast it along with Germany out of the society of Europe. The weakness of the new Bolshevik regime, however, dictated a defensive posture in foreign affairs that was obscured by the workings of the Comintern. Revision remained a long–term Soviet goal; but over the short term, Russia was in no position to attempt any provocative moves. Indeed, Soviet foreign policy throughout the interwar period was characterized by extreme caution lest the capitalist powers gang up on the Bolsheviks rather than fighting each other. The most the Soviets could hope for was low risk, limited revision for essentially defensive purposes. Stalin planned to accomplish this by making sure that the Soviet Union sat out the next capitalist war, and that one side paid heavily for Russia’s benevolent neutrality.
The defensive nature of Soviet foreign policy was particularly evident during the period 1933–35, when world events and a pervasive sense of insecurity combined to force the Soviet Union into championing the themes of collective security, universal disarmament, and cooperation with the democratic West. Specifically, Soviet foreign policy was driven by two events:
Isolated and alarmed by the possibility of a two–front war against Japan in the East and a German–Polish combination in the West, the Soviets cynically declared their support for the status quo and their desire for cooperation with the Western democracies. This policy partially bore fruit on May 2, 1935, when the Soviet Government concluded a mutual assistance pact with France. The pact was rendered virtually meaningless, however, by an accompanying protocol that protected France from any commitment that might bring it into conflict with Britain. For France, the real obstacle to an alliance (or any cooperation) with the Soviets was the aversion of both Britain, upon whom France was absolutely dependent and whose relations with Russia were dominated by the widespread hostility of the Conservatives to Bolshevism, and of the members of the Little Entente (particularly Romania) and Poland, who feared the Soviet Union more than Germany. The half–hearted French policy toward the Soviet Union and continued distrust of the Soviets among the rest of the major powers was clearly demonstrated by the exclusion of the Soviet Union, an ally of both France and Czechoslovakia, from the Munich Conference in 1938.
Japan and Italy
Both of these lesser great powers were limited–aims revisionist states. Though technically victors in the First World War, Rome and Tokyo left Versailles feeling so betrayed that they could not be relied upon to defend the new order. Soon after the settlement both states began undertaking military preparations for naked revisionist assaults against it. At Versailles, the Italians resented the way the allies had concluded the Sykes–Picot Agreement behind their backs; they were further annoyed when Yugoslavia, largely comprised of Croats and Slovenes from the former enemy, the Austro–Hungarian empire, was accorded preferential treatment (Fiume was assigned to Croatia) over Italy. On May 25, 1919, the Italian Prime Minister told the British:
I cannot look forward without grave apprehensions to the future of continental Europe; the German longing for revenge must be considered in conjunction with the Russian position. We can thus see even now that the settlement to be arrived at will lack the assent of more than half the population of the European continent. If we detach from the block on which the new European system will have to rely for support forty million Italians, and force them into the ranks of the malcontents, do you think that the new order will rest on a firm basis? 50
The danger of which the Italian Prime Minister warned eventually came to pass. By the 1930s, both Italy and Japan had substantially increased their military power and both sought to expand beyond their present territorial borders. It was Japan that unleashed the initial blow against the established order in 1931; Italy followed with its attack against Abyssinia in 1935. 51 Imperial Japan strove for regional hegemony over East Asia, announcing the so–called “New Order” in 1938; while Mussolini tried to create a second Roman Empire by securing limited aims in the Mediterranean, the Balkans, and Africa.
The Status–Quo Powers
France and Britain
The Versailles settlement represented a compromise between the divergent views held by Britain and France regarding how best to preserve the newly established and fragile peace. The French staunchly supported the status quo, believing that only a clear preponderance of power on the side of the status–quo defenders and a firm, demonstrated resolve to use that power to enforce strictly the terms of the Treaty in its entirety would prevent a revolt by the dissatisfied powers. Most important, the French strategy called for containment and deterrence of Germany by ensuring that France maintained superior power over its potentially stronger and inherently aggressive neighbor.
In contrast, British policy attempted to eliminate the danger of a new European explosion by removing the causes of revolt. “This meant,” as Arnold Wolfers describes, “taking the new order merely as a starting point in a process of continuous adjustment, intended eventually to produce a new and more generally satisfactory settlement.” 52 In adopting a benevolent “engagement” strategy toward the revisionist powers, Britain hoped to moderate the course of change and render it less provocative. Peaceful and limited revision, the British believed, would reconcile the dissatisfied states with the essential framework of the established order and convert them into status–quo powers.
For Britain, the legacy of Versailles was a sense of guilt. Many Englishmen shared John Maynard Keynes’s fear that the Treaty’s harsh terms “might impoverish Germany now or obstruct her development in the future.” 53 “Ashamed at what they had done,” Gilbert and Gott suggest, the British “looked for scapegoats, and for amendment. The scapegoat was France; the amendment was appeasement....France was blamed for having encouraged Britain in an excess of punishment. Justice could only be done by helping Germany to take her rightful place in Europe as a Great Power.” 54
In the eyes of British appeasers, 55 a stable and constructive peace required “a large part of ‘Eastern Europe’ proper should be reconstructed under German leadership;” the states of Eastern Europe “ought to be as efficiently connected with Germany along the whole course of the Danube as are the American States along that other ‘ole man river,’ the Mississippi.” 56 They welcomed German revision in the east because it would satisfy Germany’s legitimate prestige demands and appetite for expansion; divert German attention away from the West; prevent the danger that Germany and the Soviet Union might draw together; and replace the chaos and weakness of Central Europe with a strong and coherent German bloc—one that would effectively buffer the West from the poison of Russian communism. This logic proved expedient, if short–sighted, in 1938, when the British realized that war could only be avoided not by stabilizing the status quo in Central Europe but rather by actively promoting its change, at Czechoslovakia’s expense, in the hope of satisfying the revisionist powers.
In contrast, the French, convinced that they had already “lost the peace” at Versailles, violently opposed German expansion in the East for several reasons. 57 First, they feared that any change in the territorial status quo in Europe would set a dangerous precedent that might unleash a general assault on the Versailles order. “Une fois le premier détail de l’architecture tombé,” Herriot warned, “tout l’édifice tomberait lui–mAecirc;me.” 58 [Once the keystone falls, the edifice will fall of its own weight]. Second, French security now relied on the assistance of precisely those countries in Eastern Europe, particularly Poland and Czechoslovakia, which it considered substitutes for its traditional ally, Czarist Russia. Lastly, the French feared that Germany, if it expanded in the East, would become so powerful that it could turn around and defeat France. German expansion of any kind contradicted the main goal of French policy, which was to prevent Germany from actualizing its potential power; to keep it in a permanent state of “artificial weakness.” The French could hardly be expected to sanction an increase in Germany’s relative power through the absorption of its allies. As it was, the “German menace” already possessed natural advantages over France and posed, in the minds of the French, a very real and most dangerous threat to their country’s survival.
The United States
Refusing even to ratify the Versailles Treaty, the United States turned its back on Europe and tried to insulate itself against war by neutrality legislation. Most Americans came to believe that U.S. entry into the war had been a terrible mistake. Reflecting this view, Congress objected to Articles 10 and 16 of the Covenant, which were regarded as requiring the United States to guarantee by sanctions and military force the territorial integrity of all League members against any act of “aggression.” In a narrow sense, the U.S. was a status–quo power in that it was a satisfied state, for whom the costs of war outweighed the potential gains of nonsecurity expansion. With regard to the status quo in Europe, however, the United States was indifferent and determined not to expend any American blood or treasure in support of it. Thus, the Neutrality Acts of August 31, 1935 and February 29, 1936, inspired by the Nye Committee’s thesis that munition makers and bankers had conspired to force the United States into the European war in 1917, embargoed “arms, ammunition, and implements of war” and prohibited the extension of loans and credits to all belligerents. 59 By these Acts, the United States showed that, prior to 1937, it had no immediate concern either with the maintenance of the status quo or with its revision in any specific direction. In 1937, the U.S. adopted a policy of permitting belligerent trade on a cash–and–carry basis; and when the war commenced in 1939, it repealed the arms embargo. Both policies benefited sea powers and so were more favorable to Britain than Germany. But it was not until the passage of the Lend–Lease Act in March of 1941, which discriminated against Germany, that the United States became an active supporter of the status–quo in Europe.
The next step is to link unit–structure interactions to expected outcomes, i.e., system stability, alliance patterns, individual foreign policies. The theory’s two independent variables combine to produce many permutations, each of which must be analyzed according to its own systemic properties. For this reason, it is not possible to make quick deductions for all types of systems, let alone tests for all classes of cases. The discussion will therefore be limited to tripolarity and the Second World War, arguably the two most misunderstood cases.
Endnotes
Note 1: Waltz, Theory of International Politics, p. 93. Back.
Note 3: Of this inequality, Robert Tucker writes: “The history of the international system is a history of inequality par excellence. . . . It is understandable that the natural inequalities of states should impress the observer of state relations. In their physical extent, population, natural resources, and geographic position, states are, as it were, born unequal; so much so, indeed, that by comparison the natural inequalities among individuals appear almost marginal.” Robert W. Tucker, The Inequality of Nations (New York: Basic Books, 1977), p. 3. Back.
Note 4: See, for example, Mearsheimer, “Back to the Future”; Posen, The Sources of Military Doctrine ; Walt, The Origins of Alliances . Back.
Note 5: Christensen and Snyder, “Chain Gangs and Passed Bucks,” p. 138. Back.
Note 6: Mearsheimer, “Back to the Future,” p. 18. Back.
Note 7: Niou, Ordeshook, and Rose, The Balance of Power ; Niou and 0rdeshook, “Stability in Anarchic International Systems”; A. F. K. Organski, World Politics (New York: Knopf, 1958), pp. 271–338; A. F. K. Organski and Jacek Kugler, The War Ledger (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980), pp. 13–63; R. Harrison Wagner, “The Theory of Games and The Balance of Power ,” World Politics , vol. 38, no. 4 (July 1986), pp. 546–576. Back.
Note 8: Niou and Ordeshook, “Stability in Anarchic International Systems,” p. 1230. Back.
Note 9: Wagner, “The Theory of Games ,” p. 575; Niou, Ordeshook, and Rose, The Balance of Power . Back.
Note 10: Christensen and Snyder, “Chain Gangs and Passed Bucks,” p. 138. Back.
Note 11: The Correlates of War Project, “The Capability Data–Set Printout,” made available through the Inter–University Consortium for Political and Social Research at the University of Michigan, December 1987. William B. Moul has refined the COW index by substituting iron production for the demographic components of the COW index. See William B. Moul, “Measuring the ‘Balances of Power’: A Look at Some Numbers,” Review of International Studies, vol. 15, no. 2 (April 1989), pp. 101–121. Back.
Note 12: For brief discussions of tripolar dynamics, see Ronald J. Yalem, “Tripolarity and the International System,” Orbis, vol. 15 (1972), pp. 1051–1063; and Hsi–Sheng Chi, “The Chinese Warlord System as an International System,” in Morton A. Kaplan, ed., New Approaches to International Relations (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1968), pp. 405–425. Back.
Note 13: See Kenneth N. Waltz, “The Stability of a Bipolar World,” Daedalus, vol. 93, no. 3 (Summer 1964), pp. 881–901; Waltz, “International Structure, National Force and the Balance of World Power,” Journal of International Affairs, vol. 21, no. 2 (1967), pp. 215–231; Karl W. Deutsch and J. David Singer, “Multipolar Power Systems and International Stability,” World Politics , vol. 16, no. 3 (April 1964), pp. 390–406; Francis W. Hoole and Dina A. Zinnes, eds., Quantitative International Politics: An Appraisal (New York: Praeger, 1976); Bruce Bueno de Mesquita “Measuring Systemic Polarity,” Journal of Conflict Resolution, vol. 19, no. 2 (June 1975), pp. 187–216; Richard Rosecrance, “Bipolarity, Multipolarity, and the Future,” Journal of Conflict Resolution, vol. 10, no. 3 (September 1966), pp. 314–327; Frank Wayman, “Bipolarity, Multipolarity, and the Threat of War,” in Alan Ned Sabrosky, ed., Polarity and War: The Changing Structure of International Conflict (Boulder, Colo.: Westview, 1985), pp. 115–144; and Dale C. Copeland, “Neorealism and the Myth of Bipolar Stability: Toward a New Dynamic Realist Theory of Major War,” Security Studies, vol. 5, no. 3 (Spring 1996), pp. 29–89. Back.
Note 14: William C. Wohlforth, “The Perception of Power: Russia in the Pre–1914 Balance,” World Politics , vol. 39, no. 3 (April 1987), p. 353; also see Wohlforth, The Elusive Balance: Power and Perceptions During the Cold War (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1993). Back.
Note 15: Waltz, Theory of International Politics, p. 118. Back.
Note 17: Or, in the words of Friedrich Gentz, to “become so strong as to be able to coerce all the rest put together.” Quoted in Gulick, Europe’s Classical Balance of Power , p. 34. Back.
Note 18: See Jack L. Snyder, “Introduction: New Thinking About the New International System,” in Snyder and Jervis, Coping With Complexity in the International System, p. 9; Alexander Wendt, “Anarchy Is What States Make of It: The Social Construction of Power Politics, ” International Organization, vol. 46, No 2 (Spring 1992), p. 395. Back.
Note 19: Walt, The Origins of Alliances . Back.
Note 20: See Hans J. Morgenthau, Politics Among Nations: The Struggle for Power and Peace (New York: Knopf, 1948), esp. chaps. 2, 3, 9, 10, and p. 156; Frederick L. Schuman, International Politics: The Destiny of the Western State System, 4th ed. (New York: McGraw–Hill, 1948), pp. 377–380; Edward Hallett Carr, The Twenty Years’ Crisis, 1919–1939: An Introduction to the Study of International Relations (New York: Harper, 1946); Kissinger, A World Restored ; Johannes Mattern, Geopolitics: Doctrine of National Self–Sufficiency and Empire (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1942); Wolfers, “The Balance of Power in Theory and Practice,” pp. 125–126; and Raymond Aron, Peace and War: A Theory of International Relations, translated by Richard Howard and Annette Baker Fox (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1966), chap. 3. Back.
Note 21: For an extended discussion, see Randall L. Schweller, “Neorealism’s Status–Quo Bias: What Security Dilemma?” Security Studies, vol. 5, no. 3 (Spring 1996), pp. 90–121. Back.
Note 22: Joseph M. Grieco, “Realist International Theory and the Study of World Politics ,” in Michael Doyle and G. John Ikenberry, eds., New Thinking in International Relations Theory (Boulder, Colo.: Westview Press, 1997), p. 167 (emphasis in original). Back.
Note 23: Waltz, Theory of International Politics, p. 126. Back.
Note 24: In this regard, Joseph M. Grieco has coined the term “defensive positionality,” which essentially posits that the primary goal of states is to prevent relative losses. He argues that “it is a defensively positional concern that partners might do better—not an offensively oriented interest in doing better oneself—that drives the relative–gains problem for cooperation.” Grieco, “The Relative–Gains Problem for International Cooperation,” American Political Science Review, vol. 87, no. 3 (September 1993), p. 742, fn. 2. See also Grieco, Cooperation Among Nations: Europe, America, and Non–Tariff Barriers to Trade (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1990); and Grieco, “Anarchy and the Limits of Cooperation,” p. 498. Similarly, Robert Gilpin says international competition “stimulates, and may compel, a state to increase its power; at the least, it necessitates that the prudent state prevent relative increases in the powers of competitor states.” Gilpin, War and Change, pp. 87–88. Back.
Note 25: For a recent example of this status–quo bias, see Christensen and Snyder, “Chain Gangs and Passed Bucks.” Their discussion of alliance patterns in Europe prior to World Wars I and II ignores the alliance choices of revisionist states: Austria–Hungary and Turkey prior to World War I; Italy and Japan prior to World War II. Likewise, they do not discuss Nazi Germany’s alliance choices but focus instead on Hitler’s strategy of piecemeal aggression. Back.
Note 26: True, Waltz admits that states may seek profit and power; but they must pursue them “safely” and only “if survival is assured.” This view of state preferences is aptly described by Arthur A. Stein: “States that place preeminent weight on security and do not gamble with it regardless of temptation to do so may, for example, act to maximize assured security rather than expected payoffs. Such states would undertake attractive gambles only when assured of survival.” Stein, Why Nations Cooperate: Circumstance and Choice in International Relations (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1990), p. 90. In rational–choice terminology, this is known as lexicographic preferences: actors have a hierarchy of objectives and maximize in sequence rather than make tradeoffs. See Charles W. Ostrom, Jr., “Balance of Power and the Maintenance of ‘Balance’: A Rational–Choice Model With Lexical Preferences,” in Dina A. Zinnes and John V. Gillespie, eds., Mathematical Models in International Relations (New York: Praeger, 1976), pp. 318–332. Back.
Note 27: Felix Gilbert, To the Farewell Address: Ideas of Early American Foreign Policy (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1961), pp. 95–96. Of contemporary Realists, Fareed Zakaria, Samuel P. Huntington, and John J. Mearsheimer come closest in their views of state interest to that of eighteenth–century power politics. See Zakaria, “Realism and Domestic Politics: A Review Essay,” International Security, vol. 17, no. 1 (Summer 1992), pp. 177–198; Huntington, “Why International Primacy Matters,” International Security, vol. 17, no. 4 (Spring 1993), pp. 68–83; and Mearsheimer, “Back to the Future,” p. 12. Back.
Note 28: Arnold Wolfers recognized this when he wrote: “[Revisionist states] can accept balanced power only with utter resignation since they know that only in quite exceptional cases can the established order be seriously modified without the threat of force so preponderant that it will overcome the resistance of the opposing side.” Wolfers, “The Balance of Power ,” p. 126. Back.
Note 29: Aron, Peace and War, p. 598. Back.
Note 30: Waltz, Theory of International Politics, p. 127. For more on balancing behavior and the goal of autonomy, see Barry R. Posen, “Nationalism, the Mass Army, and Military Power,” International Security, vol. 18, no. 2 (Fall 1993), p. 82; Posen, The Sources of Military Doctrine , p. 17; Kenneth N. Waltz, “The Emerging Structure of International Politics,” International Security, vol. 18, no. 2 (Fall 1993), p. 74. I am grateful to Michael Desch for pointing this out. Back.
Note 31: “Any future modifications of the Mediterranean Balance of Power ,” Hitler told Ciano in 1936, “must be in Italy’s favour.” Count Galeazzo Ciano, Ciano’s Diplomatic Papers,edited by Malcolm Muggeridge (London: Odhams Press, 1948), p. 57. Back.
Note 32: Alan Cassels, “Switching Partners: Italy in A. J. P. Taylor’s Origins of the Second World War,” in Gordon Martel, ed., The Origins of the Second World War Reconsidered: The A. J. P. Taylor Debate After Twenty–five Years (Boston: Allen & Unwin, 1986), p. 82. Back.
Note 33: For example, in 1940, the British ambassador, Sir Stafford Cripps, was sent to Moscow to persuade Stalin that German expansion in Western Europe endangered Russia as well as Britain. “ ‘Therefore both countries,’ he argued, ‘ought to agree on a common policy of self–protection against Germany and on the re–establishment of the European Balance of Power .’ Stalin replied that he did not see any danger of Europe being engulfed by Germany. ‘The so–called European Balance of Power ,’ he said, ‘had hitherto oppressed not only Germany but also the Soviet Union. Therefore the Soviet Union would take all measures to prevent the re–establishment of the old Balance of Power in Europe.’ “ Martin Wight, Power Politics, edited by Hedley Bull and Carsten Holbraad (Leicester: Leicester University Press, 1978), pp. 175–176. Back.
Note 34: For this conceptualization, see Jervis, Perception and Misperception, p. 51. Jervis calls this the state’s “basic intention.” For a similar scheme, see Charles L. Glaser, “Political Consequences of Military Strategy: Expanding and Refining the Spiral and Deterrence Models,” World Politics , vol. 44, no. 4 (July 1992), pp. 497–538. Glaser’s two variables are myopia and greed. Back.
Note 35: For discussions of the terms status quo and revisionist, see Wolfers, Discord and Collaboration, pp. 18, 84–86; Barry Buzan, People, States, and Fear: The National Security Problem in International Relations (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 1983), pp. 175–186; and Paul Seabury, “The Idea of the Status Quo,” in Seabury, ed., Balance of Power (San Francisco: Chandler, 1965), chap. 22. Back.
Note 36: Quoted in David Reynolds, The Creation of the Anglo–American Alliance, 1937–41: A Study in Competitive Co–operation (London: Europa Publications, 1981), p. 5. Back.
Note 37: My conceptualization of status–quo and revisionist interests is consistent with the logic of Fareed Zakaria’s critique of “defensive–realism.” See Zakaria, “Realism and Domestic Politics.” While I agree with the basic thrust of Zakaria’s argument, I would not replace the defensive–realist assumption with an “influence–maximizing” one as he suggests. Why choose one or the other? Both assumptions are empirically valid and, throughout history, have served to differentiate states and systems of similar structures. Zakaria roots his influence–maximizing assumption in “the urge to constantly seek survival” (Ibid., fn. 43, p. 194). In practice, states have sought to expand for reasons other than mere survival, e.g., greed, divine right, manifest destiny, and revenge, to name a few. For extremely dissatisfied states, the expansionist urge is often stronger than the wish to survive. Back.
Note 38: Organski and Kugler, The War Ledger , p. 19. Back.
Note 39: Buzan, People, States, and Fear, p. 177. Back.
Note 40: Schuman, International Politics, p. 378. Back.
Note 41: Wendt, “The Agent–Structure Problem.” Back.
Note 42: For analyses of system stability and alliance dynamics based on perceived offensive/defensive advantage and geography, see Robert Jervis, “Cooperation Under the Security Dilemma,” World Politics , vol. 30, no. 2 (January 1978), pp. 167–214; Christensen and Snyder, “Chain Gangs and Passed Bucks”; and Ted Hopf, “Polarity, the Offense–Defense Balance, and War,” American Political Science Review, vol. 85, no. 2 (June 1991), pp. 475–493. For an analysis of the impact of actors’ misperceptions of structure on the origins of the First World War, see Wohlforth, “The Perception of Power,” pp. 353–381. Back.
Note 43: Posen, The Sources of Military Doctrine , pp. 236–239. For the problems with offensive/defensive distinctions, see Jack S. Levy, “The Offensive/Defensive Balance of Military Technology: A Theoretical and Historical Analysis,” International Studies Quarterly, vol. 28, no. 2 (June 1984), pp. 219–238; and Stephen D. Biddle, “The State of Knowledge on the Determinants of Offensiveness and Defensiveness in Conventional Ground Forces” IDA Paper P–2295 (Alexandria, Virginia: Institute for Defense Analyses, 1989). For an intelligent argument in support of the theory, see Sean M. Lynn–Jones, “Offense–Defense Theory and Its Critics,” Security Studies, vol. 4, no. 4 (Summer 1995), pp. 660–691. Back.
Note 44: See Weinberg, A World At Arms, pp. 13–15. Back.
Note 45: Arnold Wolfers, Britain and France Between Two Wars: Conflicting Strategies of Peace Since Versailles (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1940), pp. 63–65. Back.
Note 46: Esmonde M. Robertson, “German Mobilization Preparations and the Treaties Between Germany and the Soviet Union of August and September 1939,” in Robert Boyce and Esmonde M. Robertson, eds., Paths to War: New Essays on the Origins of the Second World War (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1989), pp. 353–354. Back.
Note 47: Andreas Hillgruber, Germany and the Two World Wars, translated by William C. Kirby (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1981), p. 50. Back.
Note 48: For the Soviet–Japanese quasi–war, see Clark W. Tinch, “Quasi–War Between Japan and The U.S.S.R., 1937–1939,” World Politics , vol. 3, no. 2 (January 1951), pp. 172–99; James E McSherry, Stalin, Hitler, and Europe vol. 1, The Origins of World War II, 1933–39 (Cleveland and New York: The World Publishing Co., 1968), ch. 1. Back.
Note 49: After Hitler became Reich Chancellor, Poland seriously considered a preventive war against Germany; the plan was cancelled, however, when France refused support. Disillusioned by France’s unreliability and impressed by Hitler’s declarations of the Reich’s peaceful intentions, Poland began courting German friendship. Given the cooling of German–Soviet relations, both Poland and Germany now had a common enemy in the Soviet Union. Prior to the conclusion of the accord, the Polish ambassador to Berlin reported: “The Reich Chancellor declared that all forms of aggression were contrary to his policy and that a war wouuld be a catastrophe for everybody. Any war would simply bring Communism, which represented a fearful threat, to Europe. Poland was a bulwark against Asia.” Quoted in Jeremy Noakes and Geoffrey Pridham, eds., Nazism, 1919–1945: A History in Documents and Eyewitness Accounts vol. 2, Foreign Policy, War and Racial Extermination (hereafter Nazism) (New York, Schocken Books, 1988), Document #493, p. 661. For Hitler, however, the main value of the Nonaggression Pact was to remove Poland from the French orbit, which, he hoped, would unravel the French security system in Eastern Europe directed against Germany. Back.
Note 50: Quoted in Charles L. Mowat, ed., The New Modern Cambridge History, vol. 12, The Shifting Balance of World Forces, 1898–1945 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968), p. 226. Back.
Note 51: For a discussion of Japan and Italy as “challengers” against the status quo, see Paul Kennedy, The Rise and Fall of the Great Powers: Economic Change and Military Conflict from 1500 to 2000 (New York: Random House, 1987), pp. 291–343. For authoritative works on Japan’s drive to achieve autarky by means of territorial expansion in East Asia, see Michael A. Barnhart, Japan Prepares For Total War: The Search for Economic Security, 1919–1941 (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1987); James B. Crowley, Japan’s Quest for Autonomy (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1966); and Saburo Ienaga, The Pacific War, 1931–1945 (New York: Pantheon Books, 1978), chap. 8. Back.
Note 52: Wolfers, Britain and France Between Two Wars, p. 5. Back.
Note 53: John Maynard Keynes, The Economic Consequences of the Peace (London: Macmillan, 1919), p. 102. Back.
Note 54: Martin Gilbert and Richard Gott, The Appeasers (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1963), p. 21. Back.
Note 55: The list of British appeasers includes, among others, Lloyd George, Marquess of Londonderry, Lord Lothian, T. Philip Conwell–Evans, Lord and Lady Astor, Neville Chamberlain, Stanley Baldwin, Arnold Wilson, Thomas Moore, and Sir Horace Wilson. Back.
Note 56: J. L. Garvin, editor of The Observer, as quoted in Ibid., p. 49. Back.
Note 57: This discussion is drawn from Wolfers, Britain and France Between Two Wars, chap. 1. Back.
Note 58: As quoted in Ibid., p. 19. Back.
Note 59: Edwin Borchard and William Potter Lage, Neutrality For the United States (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1937), pp. 313–343. Back.
Email this citation