## About Our Contributors

Sterling J. Kernek, assistant professor of history at Western Illinois University at Macomb, has a bachelor's degree from The American University in Washington, D.C., a master's from the University of Western Australia and a Ph.D. from Cambridge University in England. A native of San Antonio, Tex., he has lived in several states, including Oklahoma, Massachusetts, Oregon and Illinois. He has published several articles about American and British history and his book-length monograph, *Distractions of Peace During War: The British Government's Reactions to Woodrow Wilson, 1916-1918*, was published in 1975.

John D. Buenker, a native of Dubuque, Iowa, is professor of history at The University of Wisconsin-Parkside in Kenosha. He received his bachelor's degree from Loras College and the master's and Ph.D. from Georgetown University. He previously taught at Prince George's College and Eastern Illinois University. He is author of numerous articles and is author or co-author of five books, the latest being *The Income Tax and the Progressive Era* and *Understanding the Progressive Era*, with John C. Burnham and Robert M. Crunden.

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*Nancy D. Hargrove* is assistant professor of English at Mississippi State University, where her husband *Guy A. Hargrove* is associate professor of music. A native of Charlotte, N.C., she received her bachelor's degree from Agnes Scott College at Decatur, Ga., the master's from the University of Wisconsin and the Ph.D. from the University of South Carolina. Her field of specialization is modern British and American poetry and she has published on Eliot and Tennyson in literary journals. Currently she is completing a book on landscape as a symbol in Eliot's poetry.

Poets in this issue:

*Doris Wight* lives in Baraboo, Wis., where she teaches a course in creative writing at the University of Wisconsin Baraboo Center. She has had 343 poems accepted by 119 publishers, including *The Christian Science Monitor*, *The Wisconsin Review* and the *DeKalb Literary Arts Journal*.

*William M. White*, a native of Nashville, Tenn., received his bachelor and master's degrees from Vanderbilt University and his Ph.D. from the University of Florida. A professor of English at Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University, he has published scholarly articles, short stories and poetry.

*David Robinson*, a native of Odessa, Tex., is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin and the Harvard Divinity School. He is a graduate student and teaching assistant at the University of Wisconsin at Madison.

*James Tipton*, assistant professor of English at Alma College in Michigan, has published poems and short stories in many North American magazines, including *Esquire, The Nation, Southern Humanities Review* and *Contemporary Poetry in Translation*.

*Michael E. Williams*, a native of Tennessee, is a graduate of Vanderbilt University and a student at Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary. He has published poetry in several journals and plans to enter church service through the arts or through the campus ministry.

*James Thomas*, assistant professor of English at Northeast Missouri State University at Kirksville, is a native of Kansas and received his bachelor and master's degree at the University of Kansas. He has completed work on his Ph.D. at the University of Missouri at Columbia.

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blueprint in the '50's which he now follows in the '70's, but his
early writing contains some valuable insights into his diplomacy.

The first conclusion one encounters in *A World Restored* is
that peace cannot be secured by a single-minded search for peace.
Kissinger explained that concentration upon avoiding war
places the international system "at the mercy of the most
ruthless member of the international community."¹ This is a
characteristic conviction of his generation. In commonplace
terms, appeasement is dangerous. He believed then—as now—
that the fruits of peace are a by-product of *stability*.

His second basic assumption is that the creation of a stable
international order requires the development of a generally
accepted *legitimacy*. This is a key concept which he defines as an
"international agreement [among major powers] about the
nature of workable arrangements and about the permissible aims
and methods of foreign policy" (p. 1). Contrary to a popular im-
age of Kissinger, he still does not think that we should rely only
on a stark balance of power. He has long believed that an
equilibrium must be reinforced by "legitimacy" if diplomacy is to
be effective. In "legitimate" international orders differences
usually can be adjusted through negotiation, because the
historical claims of major states generally are accommodated and
disputed issues do not threaten national survival. There are no
unbridgeable schisms in a "legitimate" order and no power is so
dissatisfied that it wants to overthrow the prevailing system.
This does not mean that relations between major states are
necessarily harmonious. Tensions remain and even a well-
accepted "legitimacy" should not be relied upon to prevent all
war. It only limits the scope of conflicts.

A "legitimate" international order is not merely an
academic pipe dream. It has existed. After Napoleon's downfall,
Metternich, the Austrian foreign minister, and Lord Castlereagh,
the British foreign secretary, helped establish an impressive
"legitimate" order. Although there were minor wars and some
major crises, no war between great powers occurred from 1815 to
1854. Even after the Crimean war much of the "legitimate" order
persisted. Though other wars involving major powers erupted in

6

the latter half of the 19th Century, they were localized. A
European-wide conflict on the scale of the Napoleonic struggles
did not develop until the first World War of 1914-1918.
Kissinger's study of the foundation of this legitimate order
becomes intriguing when one realizes that his detente policies
reflect an attempt to bring about a new "legitimate" order.

A "legitimate" order can be menaced by a "revolutionary" power, which Kissinger described as a major state which refuses to accept an existing international order and which usually considers it oppressive as well as threatening. Agreements between a "revolutionary" power and defenders of the *status quo* are possible, but they are viewed as merely tactical maneuvers in a deadly contest. Thus, diplomacy hardly works. Only absolute security can reassure a genuinely "revolutionary" power, and this desire means absolute insecurity for all other powers. Since diplomats in a "revolutionary" situation do not have any consensus about what constitutes a reasonable demand and responsible action, their attempts at persuasion are futile. Negotiations are conducted generally for symbolic or propaganda purposes. They frequently result in repetitions of opposing positions and accusations of bad faith. Diplomacy in such circumstances is overshadowed by war, threats of force, or by an armaments race (pp. 2-3).

Napoleonic France and Hitler's Germany provided Kissinger with the clearest examples. Although he did not mention it in *A World Restored*, he assumed quite fashionably during the 1950s that the Soviet Union was also a revolutionary power. His better-known work *Nuclear Weapons and Foreign Policy*, which also was published in 1957, explicitly asserted this conviction. Both books consistently expressed the view that when dealing with "revolutionary" powers, a precautionary approach to maintaining security is generally desirable. That is, threats should be countered at an early stage of their development. Individual attitudes and isolationist policies are inadequate because they require that threats to security become overt before in-

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tervention seems justified. The danger is that "revolutionary" powers might ruin the international system by a series of small and ambiguous moves, each of which might not seem to warrant war. European statesmen were generally slow (except for Metternich) to recognize the unlimited nature of Napoleon's ambitions and to take the necessary measures to stop his conquests. During the 1930s Western European statesmen treated Hitler to a policy of appeasement while he upset the strategic balance by small stages. As Kissinger explained in *A World Restored*:

> "...The powers which represent legitimacy and the status quo cannot "know" that their antagonist is not amenable to "reason" until he has demonstrated it. And he will not have demonstrated it until the international system is already overturned (pp. 13-14).

This conclusion had far-reaching implications for Kissinger's attitude toward the Soviet Union.

In *Nuclear Weapons and Foreign Policy* he endorsed the view that the United States after the second World War had to abandon traditional isolationist policies. We could no longer rely on other powers to hold a line of defense while we waited for threats to become obvious. "In the nuclear age," he warned, "by the time a threat has become unambiguous it may be too late to resist it."² Moreover, the development of truly global international relationships meant that virtually any move by the Soviet Union to extend its influence affected American interests. He assumed that the Kremlin's ultimate aim in selling arms to Egypt or in supporting subversive movements around the world was to overturn the balance of power. "The Soviet strategy of ambiguity can ultimately be countered," he wrote, "only by a policy of precaution, by attempting to nip Soviet moves in the bud..."³ One inevitable concern now is that he still cannot "know" whether or not the Soviet Union over the long run will be amenable to "reason"—that is, to meaningful negotiations. In

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the meantime, he feels compelled to continue a precautionary approach to maintaining American security in relations with the Soviet Union. For example, during September, 1970, when a crisis in Jordan was complicated by a Syrian invasion, Kissinger used special movements of American military and naval forces as well as verbal warnings to pressure the Russians into recalling their "client" from King Hussein's territory.⁴ Kissinger later said that this episode "got us closer to the brink of a war than some of the more highly publicized crises."⁵ The American show of force during the Arab-Israeli war of 1973 received far more attention. A particularly tense phase of that conflict was reached when the Soviet Union seemed to threaten military intervention in Egypt to stave off another Arab debacle. Kissinger's response was a global military alert. He frequently has reiterated that the United States still has a competitive relationship with the Soviet Union. His policy toward the Soviet Union is, in fact, dualistic. While pursuing detente he wants the Soviet Union to believe that any intransigence or attempted expansion of its influence will be costly.

Just as Kissinger's willingness to risk the use of force is deeply rooted in long-standing basic assumptions, his high regard for the efficacy of skillful diplomacy also has antecedents. This is reflected by a suggestive historical parallel which emerges from *A World Restored*. Kissinger argued that Tsarist Russia posed a revolutionary challenge to the equilibrium which Metternich and Castlereagh were trying to establish. In order to characterize Alexander I as revolutionary, Kissinger had to be more subtle (and perhaps ambiguous) than in the cases of Napoleon and Hitler. Whereas Napoleon acted as a "conqueror," Alexander played the role of a "prophet." The former sought military domination; the latter wanted his ideals to be uniformly and universally accepted. Kissinger concluded, in short, that "both strove to identify the organization of Europe with their will" (p. 316). Although he has exaggerated the extent to which Alexander was "revolutionary," Kissinger does refer to an interesting instance in which the Russian Tsar seemed to raise the specter of a revolutionary contest based on force or, at least, the

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threat of force. During the Congress of Vienna of 1814-15 he
demanded most of Poland as a moral "right," which seemed to
place the issue beyond the reach of negotiation. "For a 'right' is
established by acquiescence," Kissinger wrote, "not by a claim,
and a claim not generally accepted is merely the expression of an
arbitrary will" (p. 153). The Polish problem, which became en-
tangled with Prussia's territorial ambitions in Saxony, threaten-
ed to disrupt the peace conference. After negotiations proved
futile, Castlereagh threatened the use of force by promoting an
alliance of Britain, France and Austria. This perhaps encouraged
the Tsar to be more pliable, but it was not the solution to the
problem. According to Kissinger, Metternich's subtle diplomacy
also helped the great powers achieve a successful compromise.
Indeed, he developed an elaborate and very flattering interpreta-
tion of the Austrian foreign minister's skillful tactics in handling
this and subsequent problems raised by the Tsar's erratic
revolutionary tendencies. He concluded that Metternich's adroit
maneuvers and clever persuasion helped transform the Russian
leader's moral fervor from a revolutionary into a conservative
force (p. 268).

Historical parallels usually have important limitations, and
it would be ridiculous to think that Kissinger is now emulating
Metternich's achievements and tactics in detail. But it is
neverless intriguing that he is clearly trying to encourage the
Soviet Union to abandon its allegedly "revolutionary" policies
and to cooperate in the creation of a new "legitimate" order.

Kissinger watched for opportunities which might promote
a detente long before he joined the Nixon Administration. Major
changes came into view during the 1960s. Though the globe
remained fundamentally bipolar in a military sense, it was
becoming politically and economically multipolar. Western Eu-
rope and Japan had revived and the idea of China emerging from
its isolation became increasingly attractive. A border dispute and
deep divisions in the Communist world had destroyed the so-
called "Sino-Soviet bloc." The Soviet Union seemed to be pur-

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suing more narrow national interests. The two superpowers
were approaching an approximate parity in strategic weapons,
which made agreements on arms limitation more feasible.
Moreover, the Kremlin wanted Western technology and in-
creased trade to help meet the rising expectations of consumers
in the Soviet Union. As early as 1965 Kissinger wrote that the
factors in the Soviet system which produce belligerence and
those factors which encourage accommodation were "delicately
balanced." He thought then that our goal should be "to give a
maximum spur to the peaceful trends."⁶ Only a few years after
Kissinger attained high office and began actively promoting
detente, he started claiming that some progress had been made.
In an address delivered during 1973 he remarked: "The Soviet
Union has begun to practice foreign policy—at least partially—
as a relationship between states rather than as international civil
war."⁷ Kissinger's goal in Soviet-American relations is to
develop a pattern of restraint, mutual recognition of interests,
consultation and cooperation. Both powers explicitly endorsed
this goal in an agreement on Basic Principles during the first
Nixon-Brezhnev summit of May, 1972. The fundamental pur-
pose was to help ensure that future crises could be resolved by
diplomacy instead of a test of arms. For example, both powers
promised to "make no claim...to any special rights or advantages
in world affairs."⁸ The implications of this principle can be
clarified by referring to *A World Restored*. As we have seen,
Kissinger the historian focussed on claims to special rights as an
essential part of Tsar Alexander's threat to the development of a
post-Napoleonic "legitimate" order. As a statesman he has been
trying to induce the Soviet Union to avoid posing intractable
challenges by making similar claims to special rights.

Because the great benefit of a legitimate order is that it
makes diplomacy more effective, Kissinger's strategy is to en-
courage the Russians to negotiate by showing them that negotia-
tion pays. Some of his critics have accused him of making it pay
all too well. In any case, he manifestly does not share Sen. Henry
Jackson's view that he should always drive a very hard bargain
when negotiating with the Soviet Union. Whatever concrete

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benefits the Russians may have gained in the famous wheat deals or other trade negotiations may be justified by even more important intangible gains. Kissinger remarked in *A World Restored*: "It is the essence of mediocrity that it prefers the tangible advantage to the intangible gain in position" (p. 15). He must diplomatically refrain from applying such observations to men such as Senator Jackson or George Meany, but he has expressed concern "about the detente debate because so often the issue is put in terms of—did the Soviets benefit from a particular deal?" Kissinger argues: "Of course, they must benefit, or they won't feel a stake in maintaining the resulting structure."⁹

Kissinger faces the quandary of trying to satisfy the Russians while preventing his critics from convincing the American public that the United States has been short-changed in Soviet-American negotiations. He cannot solve this problem, because he cannot *prove* in the short run that detente has actually promoted American interests. One could argue that the Russians put pressure on Hanoi to ease American withdrawal from the Vietnam war, or that the Kremlin showed restraint during Kissinger's negotiation of military disengagements of Israeli and Arab forces in the Middle East, but the evidence is ambiguous. The strategic arms limitation agreements and the trade agreements remain controversial. It may be the essence of mediocrity to prefer immediate tangible gains, but the law of averages ensures that most people are mediocre. Moreover, Kissinger's policy toward the Soviet Union almost inevitably will elicit ambivalent, if not critical, domestic reactions, since establishing a "legitimate" international order virtually presupposes that both sides will be partially dissatisfied as well as partially satisfied.

Another problem posed by detente with the Soviet Union is that it does not harmonize well with some traditional ideals of American foreign policy. Its emphasis upon pragmatic accommodations with an ideological adversary hardly satisfies the spiritual heirs of Woodrow Wilson who feel that American policymakers should promote their ideals of human freedom—or at least make a vigorous rhetorical pretense of doing so.

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Senator Jackson tried to evoke this sentiment when he insisted upon delaying the granting of most-favored-nation treatment for Soviet trade until the Kremlin agreed to liberalize emigration from Russia. Kissinger's arguments were bolstered in January, 1975, when the Soviet government, alleging interference in its domestic affairs, scuttled a major trade agreement with the United States, but he still is vulnerable on this point. When he advised President Ford during July, 1975, not to meet with the exiled Russian novelist Alexander Solzhenitsyn lest the Kremlin be offended, Kissinger precipitated another burst of hostile criticism. President Ford and Kissinger's trip to the Helsinki Summit to sign a joint declaration of the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe provoked further denunciations of detente. Critics alleged that it sanctified the Soviet Union's domination of Eastern Europe. For example, former Under Secretary of State George Ball asked rhetorically: "...How can we reconcile legitimizing the Soviets' stolen empire with our Western ideals?"¹⁰ Kissinger prefers to focus on the part of the joint declaration which endorses greater freedom of movement for people and information, but he has at the same time melodramatically reiterated the need for accommodation. "We are trying," he said in mid-August, "to manage a fundamental conflict of moral purposes and interests in the shadow of nuclear holocaust..."¹¹

Kissinger long has been pessimistic about the chances of inspiring long-term support for a policy which promotes a "legitimate" international order. In *A World Restored* he observed that "a statesman will tend to have great difficulty legitimizing his policy domestically, because of the incommensurability between a nation's domestic and its international experience." He regarded this as a crucial problem. "The stability of an international order," he asserted, "depends on self-limitation ... But the effort to identify the legitimizing principle of the international order with a parochial version of justice must lead to a revolutionary situation..." That is, unless a society's concept of

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justice accommodates "the existence of different principles of legitimacy, relations between it and other societies will come to be based on force" (p. 328). Kissinger went on to express his dramatic view of statesmen as follows:

> The statesman is therefore like one of the heroes in classical drama who has had a vision of the future but who cannot transmit it directly to his fellow-men and who cannot validate its "truth." Nations learn only be experience; they "know" only when it is too late to act. But statesmen must act as if their intuition were already experience, as if their aspiration were truth. It is for this reason that statesmen often share the fate of prophets, that they are without honour in their own country, that they always have a difficult task in legitimizing their programmes domestically, and that their greatness is usually apparent only in retrospect when thier intuition has become experience. The statesman must therefore be an educator; he must bridge the gap between a people's experience and his vision, between a nation's tradition and its future. In this task his possibilities are limited (p. 329).

Kissinger's efforts to win support for his policies have been extraordinary. While serving in Nixon's administration he avidly courted the press and Congress. He currently is placing more emphasis upon public speeches. In 1975 he explained his policies in St. Louis, Kansas City, Atlanta, Milwaukee, Minneapolis and Birmingham, Ala.

In seeking domestic support for his foreign policies, Kissinger may try to apply two basic "lessons" which he drew from the example of his two chief protagonists in *A World Restored*. Both illustrate possible pitfalls in his conduct of diplomacy. "A statesman who too far outruns the experience of his people," Kissinger wrote, "will fail in achieving a domestic consensus, however wise his policies; witness Castlereagh" (p. 329). This passage refers to Castlereagh's attempt to commit Britain to a system of great power conferences to maintain the international equilibrium in Europe. Kissinger concluded that

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Castlereagh failed, in part, because his vision of European unity and cooperation remained incomprehensible to the British public, which doggedly adhered to its traditional insular attitudes. He now faces analogous restrictions. The so-called Nixon Doctrine, which Kissinger helped to formulate, implicitly recognized limits imposed by American domestic opinion in the 1970s. The gist of the new doctrine is that the United States will continue to provide a nuclear shield for other countries and to provide military material as well as advice, but the United States will be reluctant to provide the soldiers. This is a compromise between Kissinger's conviction that we must continue precautionary defense policies and the American public's post-Vietnam disenchantment with global responsibilities. The problems of sustaining a consensus for his policies are, of course, far more complicated than any apparent trend toward neo-isolationism among the American public. Congress has become more inquisitive and skeptical in the post-Watergate era. Kissinger's reputation has been tarnished by his involvement in wiretapping, by his approval of the C.I.A.'s covert operations in Chile to "destabilize" the regime of Salvador Allende, and by allegations that he has withheld from Congress important details of American commitments to foreign powers. Thus, after his successful negotiation during August and September of the latest Egyptian-Israeli disengagement agreement, he was confronted with Congressional doubts about sending American "technicians" into the Sinai, with complaints about the cost of American aid to both sides, and with suspicions that he was again concealing information. At stake is not only peace in the Middle East and the reduced risk of another Arab oil embargo or of Soviet-American confrontation in another Arab-Israeli war. The agreement also serves to counter Russian influence in Egypt by helping the latter regain lost territory. One of the ironies of Kissinger's position is that he believes the United States should maintain a precautionary, activist, global role at a time when the government has been forced to reduce some of its far-flung commitments. He has felt compelled to lobby intensively in order to secure Congressional approval of the American obligations in-

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volved in the recent Egyptian-Israeli agreement. This time he
will probably succeed, but his policies require careful calculation
of the limits imposed by domestic opinion.

The "lesson" illustrated by the other protagonist in *A World Restored* was the following: "A statesman who limits his policy to the experience of his people will doom himself to sterility; witness Metternich" (329). Despite Kissinger's admiration for Metternich's tactical brilliance, he concluded that the Austrian foreign minister's performance was diplomatic "manipulation and not creation." Metternich became a symbol of conservatism because he maintained a policy which identified stability with the *status quo*. His diplomatic successes hid the increasing anachronism of Austria's domestic structure and postponed its day of reckoning. The Hapsburg Empire was, of course, multi-national and reactionary in a century when nationalism and liberalism came of age. It is difficult to believe that Metternich could have solved Austria's dilemma. Kissinger acknowledged this, yet proceeded to criticize Metternich, not for ultimate failure, but for "his reaction to it." This comment perhaps reveals more about Kissinger than about the Austrian statesman. He asserted:

> It is Metternich's smug self-satisfaction with an essentially technical virtuosity which prevented him from achieving the tragic stature he might have...Lacking in Metternich is the attribute which has enabled the spirit to transcend an impasse at so many crises of history: the ability to contemplate an abyss, not with the detachment of a scientist, but as a challenge to overcome—or to perish in the process.

(p. 322)

This is not an isolated example of Kissinger's view of historical greatness. He published an article on Otto von Bismarck, the famous German chancellor, at the end of which he wrote:

> The meaning of his [Bismarck's] life was perhaps best expressed by Bismarck himself in a letter to his wife: "That which is imposing here on earth ... has always something of

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the quality of the fallen angel who is beautiful but without
peace, great in his conceptions and exertions but without
success, proud and lonely."¹²

One can readily imagine some future historian concluding an article about Kissinger with a similar passage. He is imposing, his conceptions and exertions have been great, and he may fail in the long run. In the final analysis, as he himself has pointed out, his vision is based on intuition, and only future experience can prove its validity or error. His penchant for taking military risks in response to some future challenge may destroy his own detente policy. Barring that possibility, detente itself may prove to be disastrous. Future historians may conclude that his policies only disrupted our ties with Western Europe and Japan, weakened our defenses and lulled us into a dangerously casual attitude toward the dangers of major war. Kissinger himself pointed out in *A World Restored* that the relatively stable 19th Century international system may have paradoxically contributed to the outbreak of the first World War. "For in the long interval of peace," he explained, "the sense of the tragic was lost; it was forgotten that states could die, that upheavals could be irretrievable..." (p.6). He has presumably reflected on the possibility that even if he succeeds in establishing a new stable order, his long-term success may ultimately contribute to a nuclear Armageddon. Even barring this morbid conjecture, Kissinger knows that all stable orders have broken down, just as all great powers have declined. This historical pessimism has, however, not spoiled his taste for action. He once told James Reston: "As an historian, one has to live with a sense of the inevitability of tragedy. As a statesman, one has to act on the assumption that problems must be solved."¹³ This is also the way to secure a high status in history. He clearly believes that statesmen should strive to create a better system even when the risks are considerable and the chances of success problematical. Indeed, Kissinger hopes to surpass the record of statesmen like Metternich and Castlereagh by promoting not only a stable, but also a creative order—one which provides the fruits of peace as well as the continuos inspiration

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for sustained commitment. This is an immense task. He believes
that valuable opportunities currently exist but that the situation
is delicately balanced between constructive and negative factors.
This is a congenial evaluation because it provides scope for his
decisive statesmanship. It may also be accurate. In any case,
Kissinger will continue to pursue his great vision as long as he
can and his historical perspective will console him in several
ways. His historical pessimism has prepared him philosophically
for failure. (We can only hope that this does not become the
basis, when joined with his penchant for taking risks, for a self-
fulfilling prophecy of disaster.) Kissinger's historical study also
has given him insight into the way future historians might assess
his work. If his detente policies are abandoned by the United
States in the near future, it will be possible to blame subsequent
trouble on the departure from his diplomacy. It might then be
argued that Kissinger had told us what was needed and that we
should restore his sense of direction. On the other hand, if
Kissinger is able to pursue his grand vision with the sustained
support of this country and he nevertheless fails in the long run,
he still will be able to console himself with the lesson he learned
by studying Metternich. That is, he will not have diminished his
stature by merely accepting intractable realities and
manipulating the existing system. Instead, he will have pursued
his dream of a new international structure, and this will shape his
image among posterity. "For men become myths," Kissinger
concluded, "not by what they know, nor even by what they
achieve, but by the tasks they set for themselves" (p. 322).

NOTES

¹ Henry A. Kissinger, *A World Restored: Metternich, Castlereagh and the Problems of Peace, 1812-1822* (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1957), 1. Subsequent references to pages of this book will appear in the text.

² Henry A. Kissinger, *Nuclear Weapons and Foreign Policy* (New York: Harper and Row, 1957), 9.

³ *Ibid.*, 334, 339.

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⁴ For a detailed account of this episode, see Marvin Kalb and Bernard Kalb, *Kissinger* (Boston: Little Brown, 1974), 196-209.

⁵ Excerpts from Senate Foreign Relations Committee Hearings of Sept. 23, 1973, in Henry A. Kissinger, *American Foreign Policy*, expanded edition (New York: W. W. Norton, 1974), 203.

⁶ Henry A. Kissinger, *The Troubled Partnership* (New York: McGraw Hill, 1965), 193-94.

⁷ Kissinger, "The Nature of the National Dialogue," in *American Foreign Policy*, expanded edition, 260.

⁸ The White House, *United States Foreign Policy for the 1970's: Shaping a Durable Peace* (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1973), 37.

⁹ *New York Times*, Oct. 13, 1974.

¹⁰ George Ball, "Capitulation at Helsinki," *Newsweek* (Aug. 4, 1975), 13.

¹¹ *Washington Post*, Aug. 15, 1975.

¹² Henry A. Kissinger, "The White Revolutionary: Reflections on Bismarck," *Daedalus*, XCVII (Summer, 1968), 922.

¹³ *New York Times*, Oct. 13, 1974.

## Turned Hextoped

—or, *Observation on Love's Metamorphoses*,

—or, *Dream After Being Made Drunk by Your Stabiles*, Alexander Calder,

—or, *Study of a Poem Made Anticlimatic by Its Own Title*

Two stumps
were not enough
to lumber me towards you
fast enough
six should perform the feat
( feet )
much faster.
( smile )
such is love.
( smile )
such,
such is love.

— Doris Wight

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John D. Buenker

# The New Era Business

In a variety of ways, the decade between the Great War and the Great Depression marked the emergence of modern American society. The economy moved beyond industrialism to mass production, urbanization gave way to metropolitanism and immigration, a constant factor for three centuries, was ended. The breathtaking advances in transportation and communication accelerated the process of homogenization of ethnic and geographic groups. It was only fitting that the nation's economic philosophy which heretofore had emphasized free enterprise, laissez-faire, competition, rugged individualism, Horatio Alger, the Gospel of Wealth and the workings of impersonal natural laws should adjust itself to the new order. An ungrammatical and undiscerning president erroneously labeled the business

20