Why do outside powers intervene in other countries’ elections? We distinguish between two types of electoral interventions: interventions in favor of the democratic process and interventions in favor of particular candidates and parties. Contrary to the conventional wisdom, outside powers often simultaneously pursue interventions of both types. Using a formal model of elections with bias, we argue that outside powers will always invest some resources in particular candidates, if they care about the differences in their proposed policies. Spending on the electoral process is driven by liberalism concerns and geopolitical interests. In some cases, liberal powers might decrease their amount of support for the electoral process if this engagement works against their favored candidate. We also consider the case of “election wars.” These occur when two outside powers simultaneously intervene on different sides of an election. Some of the observable implications of the model are briefly demonstrated using a new and original dataset.

The resurgence of conservatism may be described as the most significant postwar development in American thought. “No intellectual phenomenon has been more surprising in recent years,” Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., concedes, “than the revival in the United States of conservatism as a respectable social philosophy.” No longer can one lament, as Alpheus T. Mason did in 1948, that “conservatism, once more than respectable political theology (especially among the educated), now carries overtones of reaction well nigh as discrediting as the rabidities attributed to communism.” Intellectual spokesmen are now, on the contrary, making a concerted effort to revisit and revitalize the conservative point of view.

Although most of this “egg head” element in the conservative camp may be, and has been, dismissed as expressing an anachronistic yearning for the anticommercial traditions evolved in British feudalism, the business leaders whom they neglect have themselves been revising and actively selling a conservatism that appears to be more closely related to the realities of the American social situation.

In recent years the welter of data accumulated on American voting behavior has been continually reanalyzed by social scientists interested in building theories of electoral choice. Most of the original data-gathering enterprises were guided by general theoretical frameworks which, for the most part, were not developed to a point where the ensuing analyses addressed themselves unambiguously to the overall conceptions by which they were guided. As a result much of our knowledge about voting behavior is in the form of generalizations about what social and psychological variables account for voting choices while we lack conceptual frameworks which systematically interrelate these generalizations and provide comprehensive and parsimonious explanation. If any one unifying conception has emerged from the original large scale studies it is that the average voter is irrational. This inference has been derived from a variety of empirical relationships coupled with varying conceptions of rationality.

The more recent reanalyses of these data sets have been characterized by a theoretical sophistication that was lacking heretofore. One of these, a theory of the calculus of voting, has applied some formal rigor to the question of the rationality of the decision to vote, selected empirical equivalents of theoretical entities from survey data on national elections, and conducted a successful test of the theory. Unlike traditional approaches to the rationality question which infer the degree of rationality from quantities of information possessed or from correlates of decisions (background, party affiliation, group memberships, etc.), this investigation conceived of rationality in terms of the kind of calculus employed by the individual in deciding among alternatives (in this case whether or not to vote).

The critique of my 1994 article by Stonecash and Agathangelou reflects a series of misconceptions and misunderstandings—about measures, methods, arguments, and findings. In this rejoinder I attempt to correct these. In addition, I clarify my methods and findings. First, I show that a formal statistical test indicates that limiting the analysis to the northern states is justified. Less formally, the professionalism hypothesis cannot work the same in the South as in the North unless levels of Democratic legislative strength can rise above 100%. Second, although clearly inferior to a pooled analysis, I show that a disaggregated (state-by-state) analysis is far more supportive of the professionalization hypothesis than the flawed results Stonecash and Agathangelou report. Third, despite the repeated assertions of Stonecash and Agathangelou, I demonstrate that there is no evidence that a long-term partisan realignment to the Democrats is occurring, and that, contrary to their methodological recommendations, the variables included in my analysis would capture it if it were. Finally, Stonecash and Agathangelou interpret my research as indicating a lack of relationship between constituencies and who gets elected. That is simply not a correct reading of my article.

This address stresses the importance of the study of lawmaking. Three advantages in particular are emphasized: lawmaking is the core decision-making process in a democracy, its study offers an opportunity for Americanists to overcome concentrations on a single institution, and it provides a basis for comparative analysis. The discussion focuses on statute making as a primary phase of lawmaking. Four concepts—iteration, inquiry, speculation, and declaration—are identified as key, unexplored characteristics of statute making that hold substantial promise for research.

Important changes in the regulations governing receipts and expenditures of party committees, enacted in the summer of 1940, make a study of the financing of the presidential election of that year particularly interesting and significant. “Hatch Act II,” designed primarily to extend to certain state and local employees limitations upon political activities already imposed upon federal office-holders by “Hatch Act I,” introduced a number of radical changes in the rules governing the collection of campaign funds.

This analysis investigates a formal nonlinear systems model characterizing longitudinal change in the environment as a function of oscillating partisan control of the White House. It is assumed that one political party will tend to favor help for the environment despite some economic costs, whereas the other party will generally favor economic growth over environmental concerns. These policy changes affect the environment interactively with both public concern for particular environmental problems and the economic costs relating to environmental repair. This interaction with policy changes causes a disruption in the continuously evolving balance between the social factors that damage the environment and the environment's own ability to recover. The disruptive potential to the environment is considerably ameliorated with a reduction in the electoral cycling.

The developing countries' suspension of payments on their external debt is as much a consequence of the political weakness of their governments and the excessive politicization of their economic policies as it is a result of unfavorable structural changes in the international economy. Differences in debtor governments' political performances are treated as an explicit variable rather than as residuals to an economic explanation in estimating the probability of developing countries' suspending their external debt service payments. Using a logit model, I analyze fifty-eight developing countries for the years 1970–1984. The results show that political capacity can be decisive in corrrectly predicting the probability of a government's suspending its external debt service payments. The model predicts 96% of the total outcomes correctly and 80% of the debt payment suspension cases correctly.

One important legacy of republicanism is the ideal of good citizenship; a related legacy of republicanism is the equation of citizenship and masculinity. These legacies are at once strange and familiar: today, masculinity and citizenship are often conceptualized as discrete and distinctive identities, and some critics, most notably feminists, suggest that in modern democracies good citizenship and masculinity may even be contradictory ideals. The source of these conceptual paradoxes is the transformation of gender and civic discourse in the early modern period, particularly the “long eighteenth century.” Understanding the implications of these changes helps us better grasp both the relationship of gender and citizenship today, and how a more effectively engaged and meaningfully egalitarian form of democratic citizenship, for men and women, might be realized.

Much that is characteristic of contemporary anarchist thought can be found in the writings of the founder of that tradition, William Godwin. He is ambivalent on the value of technology and modernity, nostalgic at one moment and progressive another. He extols individual autonomy while preaching community solidarity. Above all he shares with modern anarchism an elitist disdain for ordinary men and women, which in the case of Godwin leads to an unresolved tension between theoretical radicalism and practical conservatism. His anarchist doctrine repudiates all forms of coercion, law, and government. It eschews cooperation of all kind as deleterious to individual development. At the same time it posits an ideal order characterized by a high degree of informal coercion practiced by zealous neighborly inspection. But Godwin was a less than eager friend of reform and agitation during the years of Pitt's repression of radical movements in England. This was clear even in the pages of Political Justice, but all the more obvious in his feud in 1795–96 with John Thelwall and the London Corresponding Society, the leading radical activists. This paper outlines Godwin's anarchism and points out the implications of his dispute with Thelwall. In addition it shows the extent to which Godwin has given anarchism certain of its enduring qualities.

This paper is a study of the backgrounds of the members of the Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union. The purpose of its first part is to present and interpret certain quantitative material concerning the background characteristics of the members of the Central Committee. The conclusion elaborates premises regarding the function of co-optation in the higher Party organs and suggests possible relationships of this function to the education and career experiences of the Central Committee membership as discussed in the first part. To pursue an ideal study of this type, we recognize that extensive interviews and depth exploration of the sociological histories of the members would be desirable. In the case of the Soviet political elite such a course is obviously not possible at the present time. Nevertheless, sufficient data exist to make a modest beginning toward what we hope will help to lay a foundation for more extensive analysis of elites in the Soviet system in the future.

Two basic assumptions underlie our interest in the backgrounds of the Soviet political elite. First, and more important for this paper, is the premise that persons are co-opted into the Central Committee primarily, though not exclusively, as a result of the group associations they have made during the courses of their careers. These associations are largely career associations, and most of the members become part of the elite of important functional groups before they become members of the Party elite. Educational backgrounds, age, Party status, role associations, occupation, and other factors all converge to influence the development of the careers of the members.

Research in psychology has established that people have visceral positive and negative reactions to all kinds of stimuli—so-called implicit attitudes. Implicit attitudes are empirically distinct from explicit attitudes, and they appear to have separate consequences for political behavior. However, little is known about whether they change in response to different factors than explicit attitudes. Identifying distinct antecedents for implicit and explicit attitudes would have far-reaching implications for the study of political persuasion. We hypothesized that implicit attitudes would change primarily in response to political advertisements’ emotional valence, but this turned out to be wrong. In contrast, our next hypothesis that implicit (but not explicit) attitudes would improve in response to increased familiarity with an attitude object was supported across several tests. Aside from this finding, our studies illustrate how routine preregistration helps researchers convey what they learned from each test—including when predictions are not borne out.

Social scientists have documented rapid polarization in public opinion about COVID-19 policies. Such polarization is somewhat unsurprising given experimental studies that show opinions on novel issues can diverge quickly in the presence of partisan frames. In this paper I describe a different process that operates alongside polarization: not centrism but a lack of opinion formation. Drawing on four rounds of in-depth interviews with 86 Midwesterners, conducted between June 2019 and November 2020, I take an inductive approach to understanding variation in the processes by which people gathered and interpreted information about COVID-19. I find that those with universal distrust in all media struggled to adjudicate between conflicting interpretations of reality, particularly if they also had low political knowledge. The result was that they felt little confidence in any opinions they formed. These findings suggest that deteriorating trust in media is an important and understudied factor shaping trajectories of opinion formation.

An understanding of Machiavelli's assessment of Cesare Borgia in The Prince is essential for interpreting his view of politics, but the ambiguity of that assessment has led to vastly different conclusions about Machiavelli's political teaching and Cesare's significance. We approach Machiavelli's ultimate intentions through a consideration of his more immediate concern for Italy. Machiavelli's great interest in Cesare and his criticism of this potential hero stem from the historical context of an Italy divided due to the Church. Cesare possessed—yet squandered—an opportunity to rid Italy of the evils plaguing it by killing his father, Pope Alexander, and by eliminating the College of Cardinals. Machiavelli's suggested denouement to the plot of The Prince is an assault on the ecclesiastical power. He invites his reader to contemplate the vulnerability of the Church and to act where Cesare and others shrank. Machiavelli ultimately counsels us to break our reliance on God or fortune and thus create the conditions for a reinvigorated civil life.

Nationalism as we understand it is not older than the second half of the eighteenth century. Its first great manifestation was the French Revolution, which gave the new movement an increased dynamic force. Nationalism had, however, become manifest at the end of the eighteenth century almost simultaneously in a number of widely separated European countries. Its time in the evolution of mankind had arrived, and although the French Revolution was one of the most powerful factors in its intensification and spread, it was not its date of birth. Like all historical movements, nationalism has its roots deep in the past. The conditions which made its emergence possible had matured during centuries before they converged at its formation. These political, economic, and intellectual developments took a long time for their growth and proceeded in the various European countries at different pace. It is impossible to grade them according to their importance or to make one dependent upon the other. All are closely interconnected, each reacting upon the other; and although their growth can be traced separately, their effects and consequences cannot be separated otherwise than in the analysis of the scholar; in life, they are indissolubly intertwined.

A recent Herblock cartoon in the Washington Post depicts three bare-footed backwoodsmen. The oldest and most tattered of them (labeled “poll tax”) lies wounded, his head propped against a boulder, his rifle abandoned near his side. As the other rifle-bearing rustics-identified as “literacy tests” and “scare tactics”- bend sorrowfully over him the older man says, “I think them Feds got me, boys, but I know you'll carry on.” Perhaps it is premature to anticipate the ratification of the anti-poll tax amendment proposed by the 87th Congress as the newest addition to the federal constitution. No doubt the cartoonist is correct, however, in picturing both “literacy tests” and “scare tactics” as less vulnerable to federal government attack. These presumed barriers to equal participation by Negroes in the politics of the South may “carry on” for some time to come.

If the past determines or in any way influences the present, the present invariably reverses the process. One of the more striking instances of this rule has been the recent apotheosis of Thomas Jefferson as a national hero equal in stature to Washington and Lincoln. In an atmosphere of industrialism, urban living, and strong, impersonal national government that tradition might lead us to suppose would kill it, the Jefferson legend has blossomed and put forth new shoots. As Mr. Douglass Adair has pointed out, the pioneer democrat and agrarian liberal “discovered” by Frederick Jackson Turner and Charles A. Beard and celebrated by Parrington, Nock, and Bowers, has lately found more complicated, more interesting, and incidentally more timely, portrayal at the hands of Carl Becker, Gilbert Chinard, and Adrienne Koch. These writers, whose company is now joined by Mr. Joseph Dorfman, have been at pains to show the range and diversity of Jefferson's thought, and above all how he moved with his times to espouse the cause of commerce, industry, and national power. Mr. Dorfman crowds all these qualities together under the label, “Thomas Jefferson: Commercial Agrarian Democrat” which, if the trend continues, may have to be stretched to “Commercial Industrial Agrarian Democratic Federalist.”

Does the label fit? The legendary Jefferson was an agrarian; and even as modern scholars were finding in his writings political precepts for an industrial age, the farmers of the United States were recognizing him as the founder of American agriculture and adopting him as their patron saint.

How can a religious minority organize most effectively to protect its interests without weakening the distinction between religion and politics by which advocates of a secular state justify equal treatment for the minority? As in Europe earlier in the century, this problem is again acute in some of the so-called “New Nations” of Asia and Africa where national integration is far from complete and religion is still the primary mode of self-identification among many of its communicants. If a minority faith is geographically concentrated so as to constitute a majority in certain extensive areas, it is likely to seek independence, merger with an adjacent state of the same religion, or at least provincial autonomy if its members believe that their religious identity is threatened by assimilation.

Of the great world religions, Islam provides the most difficult case of adjustment to minority status by separation of religion from the state. The leaders of the Muslim minority of British India finally set the objective of separate national independence in 1940 after they had concluded that they could not rely upon constitutional guarantees to safeguard their rights against the Hindu majority. But the creation of Pakistan in 1947 left a substantial though scattered Muslim population of some forty million in the Indian Republic, ten percent of the latter's people. Suspected by many Hindus of further divisive intentions, how was this group to act within the framework of parliamentary and at least ostensibly secular democracy?

In 1959 a number of progressive Democratic congressmen organized the Democratic Study Group (DSG) as a vehicle for countering certain conservative biases then present in the decision-making process in the House of Representatives. This paper presents brief descriptions of the difficulties faced by these congressmen in their efforts to pass more “liberal” legislation and of the organization and activities of the DSG. The analytical focus is on an assessment of DSG success in developing an effective communication network as a means of achieving its policy goals. The central hypothesis is that this communication network has had an impact on the voting behavior of DSG members. Roll-call data from the 84th through the 91st Congress are examined to ascertain whether longitudinal patterns in the voting of DSG members, non-southern non-DSG Democrats, southern Democrats, and Republicans tend to confirm or deny this hypothesis.