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Foreign policy is not a game of chess, though it is often called that. There is no fixed board and there is no book of rules to say that a certain move will be successful or that a contrary one will fail. The treatises on diplomacy are guides to techniques. Books of etiquette that tell how to hold a teacup or fold a handkerchief do not help when the ceiling falls in the parlor or a baby must be delivered in a taxicab. So with diplomacy, the human factors determine whether an emergency is handled well or badly.
Foreign AFFAIRS is forty years old-and the modern foreign affairs of the United States are less than ten years older. The problems we have today-of technology, conflict, alliance and hope-have little relation to the times of the Founders, the ordeal of Lincoln, or even the turning days of Cleveland, McKinley and Theodore Roosevelt. It is August 1914, with its alerting record of the stakes of diplomacy and of the enormous damage that ordinary well-trained men can do, which reminds us that Woodrow Wilson at his typewriter, and all of his successors, have had to live with world-wide danger, world-wide power, and so world-wide responsibility.
ANY attempt to look at some of the economic problems confronting the Atlantic group of nations over the next ten or fifteen years must take into account the general change in the economic climate which has occurred in the last five years. The long postwar boom ended in the summer of 1957. Before that climacteric the Atlantic group had enjoyed a period of almost continuous prosperity. Demand was high; markets were good; prices were satisfactory; and production was at capacity. Businessmen projected the lines of their graphs upwards and on without a kink. Growth and progress seemed here to stay. Since 1957 it has been a different story. Spurts of prosperity have been succeeded by the languors of recession and stagnation, except among the Six; and even among them the rate of growth has been slowing down and they have begun to be plagued with many of the problems already affecting the rest of the group. It has been a time of growing uncertainties: about maintaining the volume of production, about the erosion of profits, about the status of the two great currencies which, with gold, constitute the media of international settlement. This accumulation of doubts about the future has found expression in the last few months in a major decline in prices in the stock exchanges of the Atlantic group. There is a widespread feeling that a new set of problems has come up which will be with us for a long time and with which we do not know how to deal.
In the deeply divided world of today, one main obstacle to achieving a genuine state of peaceful coexistence is the gap in the meanings attached to these two words in different societies and political systems. The gap is, of course, just one additional example of the estrangement of vocabularies that besets every effort at direct and sincere exchanges of ideas across or through the ideological and psychological barriers. Words like "democracy," "freedom," "progress" are, as we know only too well, employed in very different and even opposite senses in the two worlds.
Time and time again during the past fifteen years our people have had to confront a new Berlin crisis. Thus they are well aware that we have a continuing Berlin problem. However, it is not always recognized that the critical Berlin situation which has prevailed since the end of World War II is in reality a challenge to the survival of Europe. Many of us have forgotten why and when the Berlin problem came about. For a proper understanding of it and of its relationship to our foreign policy, we must look back occasionally to find how it did develop.
I write this article not long after my visit to France, where I spent seven eventful days of great political importance. One essential purpose of my visit was to demonstrate to the German and French peoples and, indeed, to the whole world that the reconciliation between the two neighboring peoples on both sides of the Rhine has now become a reality.
On August 2, 1914, a young officer burst into the office of General Lyautey in Rabat to inform him that hostilities had just broken out between France and Germany. Lyautey, who had spent the greater part of his career in Asia and in Africa and had acquired the habit of looking at problems not on the scale of a general staff map but on the scale of a world map, stopped to think, then lifted his eyes and said slowly: "They are crazy; it is a civil war." The young officer closed the door behind him without understanding. For him, as for most men of his time, the history of the twentieth century, like that of the nineteenth, could only be written by the European peoples; their strife, however tragic the consequences, was thus in the nature of things.
This pair of phrases sums up the new, conflicting and contradictory assumptions that underlie the highly unsatisfactory climate of opinion in today's world. The use of the word "underdeveloped" in connection with a country implies that the most significant dimension of measurement in the world today is standard of living and that standard of living should be measured in terms of those indices that are inextricably linked with industrialization. Countries that are industrialized and depend primarily on agriculture and other primary industries are poor. Countries that are industrialized are rich. Richness and poverty are unequivocal terms. They relate to a single scale and provide one set of measurements in accordance with which all countries can be placed.
In this 1962 article, Barbara Ward Jackson reminds that aid is most effective when it is used to promote long-term development, not when it is used to punish errant governments.
For those who were close to international events in the nineteen twenties and took a part in the errors and shortcomings of the next decade, there is a fascination in contrasting the two world wars with the experience of the present time. If we can learn from a generation ago and apply the lessons of that period to our present problems, we might render a useful service, for even then all was not folly.
Now that the liquidation of Europe's overseas empires is all but complete, the world is in travail, beset by problems of readjustment and groping for new relationships that may make possible the peaceful and prosperous coexistence of more than a hundred states of widely differing characters and needs. The age-old expansion of Europe in terms of military power, settlement, trade, proselytism, territorial rule and, finally, social dominance has come to an abrupt end. Thoughtful people, particularly in the Western world, are bound to reflect on this epochal upheaval, and to realize that one of the very great revolutions in human affairs has taken place. They must be impressed, not to say awed, by the thought that the political and social structure of our planet has undergone such fundamental alterations at the very time when science and technology are opening to view the vast possibilities as well as the dangers of the space age.
The Federation of Nigeria became a sovereign independent state and ninety- ninth member of the United Nations less than two years ago. Our entrance into the arena of international politics marked an epoch in our history, made even more memorable by the good will and affection with which we were received from all sides. Everyone hailed the appearance of Africa's largest state. To the leaders and people of Nigeria, however, this event was also a grim reminder of the fact that, for the first time in our history as a single unified state, we now have to fend for ourselves, and to sustain and consolidate our unity and freedom. We have to give real meaning to this freedom by making it an instrument for a better and more prosperous life for our people.
An attempt to solve specific African problems out of context, according to some half-understood universal concept, neglects the especially important social factors. Such an approach assumes that science has reached its limits, that mankind's present knowledge is absolute and immutable, and that in these matters there is nothing further to be expected, attempted or desired. It implies that human society, having reached maturity, begins to decline. On the contrary, everything indicates that it is still full of contradictions and imperfections and that these are the causes of its difficulties, its crises and its disequilibrium. Thus the course of progress, far from being limited, is infinite in time and space.
It was only towards the middle of the twentieth century that the inhabitants of many European countries came, in general unpleasantly, to realize that their fate could be influenced directly by intricate and abstruse books of philosophy.-Czeslaw Milosz
Since the dramatic developments at the Twenty-second Soviet Party Congress last year, no one can seriously doubt the existence of a profound dispute between Russia and China. But opinions vary widely as to its causes, its likely future development, its consequences and its significance, if any, for Western policy. My purpose is to provide a framework for exploring the implications of the Sino-Soviet dispute for the West.
When President Kennedy proposed a hemispheric Alliance for Progress to spur economic development and raise living standards in Latin America, he endorsed agrarian reform as a basic part of this effort. Land reform is not altogether new, of course, in Latin America. Simon Bolivar undertook, though with only limited success, to distribute estates seized from Spanish loyalists to the veterans of his revolutionary armies. In Haiti, when the republic was founded, the rebellious slaves killed most of their former masters who did not escape into exile, and the land was distributed among the Negroes. In the Dominican Republic, the Spanish colonial landowners fled before the Haitian armies which invaded the area in 1821, and from that time until the advent of the régime of the late Rafael Trujillo, most of the land remained in the hands of small peasant proprietors. Finally, from time to time during the nineteenth century there were sporadic efforts at land reform; in many Latin American nations, for instance, the church was deprived of its land, which was distributed in one way or another among the laity.
In 1963 the United States can renegotiate her alliance with Spain. If neither party were to raise new conditions, the ten-year-old alliance would be automatically extended, to last another ten years. However, General Franco has already hinted that he wants to bargain for further military aid. The political structure of the country with which the U.S. Government is now probably preparing to confirm its friendship is at an especially interesting stage.