International Organisation Guide

International organisations
J. Meierhenrich
IR2085, 2790085
2012
Undergraduate study in
Economics, Management,
Finance and the Social Sciences
This subject guide is for a 200 course offered as part of the University of London
International Programmes in Economics, Management, Finance and the Social Sciences.
This is equivalent to Level 5 within the Framework for Higher Education Qualifications in
England, Wales and Northern Ireland (FHEQ).
For more information about the University of London International Programmes
undergraduate study in Economics, Management, Finance and the Social Sciences, see:
www.londoninternational.ac.uk
This guide was prepared for the University of London International Programmes by:
J. Meierhenrich, Senior Lecturer, Department of International Relations, The London School of
Economics and Political Science.
This is one of a series of subject guides published by the University. We regret that due to
pressure of work the author is unable to enter into any correspondence relating to, or arising
from, the guide. If you have any comments on this subject guide, favourable or unfavourable,
please use the form at the back of this guide.
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© University of London 2012
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Contents
Contents
Introduction ............................................................................................................ 1
Aims ............................................................................................................................ 1
Learning outcomes ........................................................................................................ 1
How to use this guide .................................................................................................... 2
The purpose of the subject guide ................................................................................... 2
Reading ........................................................................................................................ 3
Activities ....................................................................................................................... 3
Online study resources ................................................................................................... 3
Syllabus......................................................................................................................... 5
Examination .................................................................................................................. 5
Recommended study time .............................................................................................. 6
List of abbreviations ...................................................................................................... 6
Chapter 1: The study of international organisations.............................................. 9
Aims and learning outcomes .......................................................................................... 9
Essential reading ........................................................................................................... 9
Further reading.............................................................................................................. 9
Introduction ................................................................................................................ 10
Concepts ..................................................................................................................... 10
Questions .................................................................................................................... 13
Theories ...................................................................................................................... 16
Disciplines ................................................................................................................... 18
A reminder of your learning outcomes.......................................................................... 19
Sample examination questions ..................................................................................... 19
Part I: The theory of international organisations ................................................. 21
Chapter 2: Realism ............................................................................................... 23
Aims and learning outcomes ........................................................................................ 23
Essential reading ......................................................................................................... 23
Further reading............................................................................................................ 23
Introduction ................................................................................................................ 24
Classical realism, or the tragic view of international politics .......................................... 24
From classical realism to structural realism ................................................................... 25
The ‘relative gains problem’ in international cooperation .............................................. 25
The false promise of international institutions: John Mearsheimer ................................. 26
Conclusion .................................................................................................................. 27
Chapter 3: Liberalism ........................................................................................... 29
Essential reading ........................................................................................................ 29
Further reading............................................................................................................ 29
Introduction ................................................................................................................ 30
Classical liberalism, or the idealistic view of international politics .................................. 30
From idealism to pluralism ........................................................................................... 31
From pluralism to neo-liberal institutionalism ............................................................... 32
Game theory of international institutions: Robert Keohane ........................................... 32
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85 International organisations
Regime theory of international institutions: Stephen Krasner......................................... 33

Peace theory of international institutions: Bruce Russett .............................................. 34
Conclusion .................................................................................................................. 35
Chapter 4: Constructivism .................................................................................... 37
Further reading............................................................................................................ 37
Introduction ................................................................................................................ 38
From rationalism to cognitivism.................................................................................... 39
Social theory of international institutions: Michael Barnett and Martha Finnemore ........ 40
Micro-processes of socialisation: Alastair Ian Johnston.................................................. 41
Conclusion .................................................................................................................. 43
Part II: The history of international organisations ............................................... 45
Chapter 5: A history of international organisations............................................. 47
Further reading............................................................................................................ 47
Introduction ................................................................................................................ 48
The origins of international organisations, 1815–1914 ................................................. 48
The rise of international organisations, 1918–1945 ...................................................... 49
The proliferation of international organisations, 1945–present ..................................... 50
Conclusion .................................................................................................................. 51
Part III: The practice of international organisations............................................. 53
Chapter 6: The League of Nations (1919) and the UN (1945) .............................. 55
Further reading............................................................................................................ 55
Introduction ................................................................................................................ 56
Institutional origins of the League of Nations ............................................................... 56
How the League of Nations worked ............................................................................. 58
Institutional effects of the League of Nations ............................................................... 59
Institutional origins of the United Nations ................................................................... 62
How the UN works ...................................................................................................... 63
Institutional effects of the UN ...................................................................................... 64
Conclusion .................................................................................................................. 66
Chapter 7: The IMF (1945) and the World Bank (1945) ........................................ 69
Further reading............................................................................................................ 69
Introduction ................................................................................................................ 70
Institutional origins of the IMF .................................................................................... 70
ii
Contents
How the IMF works ..................................................................................................... 71

Institutional effects of the IMF ..................................................................................... 72
Institutional origins of the World Bank ......................................................................... 74
How the World Bank works ......................................................................................... 75
Institutional effects of the World Bank.......................................................................... 76
Conclusion .................................................................................................................. 78
Chapter 8: GATT (1947) and the World Trade Organization (1995) ...................... 79
Further reading............................................................................................................ 79
Introduction ................................................................................................................ 80
Institutional origins of GATT ........................................................................................ 80
How GATT worked....................................................................................................... 81
Institutional effects of GATT ......................................................................................... 83
Institutional origins of the WTO .................................................................................... 83
How the WTO works .................................................................................................... 84
Institutional effects of the WTO .................................................................................... 85
Conclusion .................................................................................................................. 87
Chapter 9: NATO (1952) and the OSCE (1995) ...................................................... 89
Further reading............................................................................................................ 89
Introduction ................................................................................................................ 90
Institutional origins of NATO ....................................................................................... 90
How NATO works ........................................................................................................ 92
Institutional effects of NATO ........................................................................................ 93
Institutional origins of the OSCE .................................................................................. 94
How the OSCE works................................................................................................... 95
Institutional effects of the OSCE ................................................................................... 96
Conclusion .................................................................................................................. 98
Chapter 10: European Communities (1957) and the EU (1992)............................ 99
Further reading............................................................................................................ 99
Introduction .............................................................................................................. 100
Institutional origins of the EC .................................................................................... 100
How the EC worked ................................................................................................... 103
Institutional effects of the EC ..................................................................................... 105
Institutional origins of the EU..................................................................................... 106
How the EU works ..................................................................................................... 108
Institutional effects of the EU ..................................................................................... 110
Conclusion ................................................................................................................ 112
A reminder of your learning outcomes........................................................................ 112
Sample examination questions ................................................................................... 113
iii
Chapter 11: The Organisation of African Unity (1963) and the

African Union (2002) .......................................................................................... 115
Aims and learning outcomes ...................................................................................... 115
Essential reading ....................................................................................................... 115
Further reading.......................................................................................................... 115
Introduction .............................................................................................................. 116
Institutional origins of the OAU ................................................................................. 116
How the OAU worked ................................................................................................ 118
Institutional effects of the OAU .................................................................................. 118
Institutional origins of the AU .................................................................................... 120
How the AU works..................................................................................................... 121
Institutional effects of the AU ..................................................................................... 122
Conclusion ................................................................................................................ 124
Chapter 12: The ICYT (1993), the ICTR (1994) and the ICC (2002) ..................... 125
Aims and learning outcomes ...................................................................................... 125
Further reading.......................................................................................................... 125
Introduction .............................................................................................................. 126
Institutional origins of the ICTY and ICTR .................................................................. 126
How the ICTY and ICTR work..................................................................................... 128
Institutional effects of the ICTY and ICTR ................................................................... 129
Institutional origins of the ICC ................................................................................... 132
How the ICC works.................................................................................................... 134
Institutional effects of the ICC.................................................................................... 136
Conclusion ................................................................................................................ 136
Chapter 13: Conclusion....................................................................................... 139
Aims and learning outcomes ..................................................................................... 139
Further reading.......................................................................................................... 139
Introduction .............................................................................................................. 140
How do international organisations matter? Theoretical conclusions ........................... 140
How do international organisations matter? Empirical conclusions ............................. 142
Conclusion ................................................................................................................ 143
Appendix 1: Sample examination paper ............................................................ 145
Appendix 2: Bibliography ................................................................................... 147
iv
Introduction
Introduction
This study of international organisations, a 200 course, builds on the

foundations laid by 11 Introduction to international relations. It
offers a comprehensive introduction to the theory, history, and practice
of international organisations. Through an in-depth and interdisciplinary
examination of these frequently misunderstood international institutions,
the course introduces students to key themes in the field of international
relations. The international organisations we will discuss in this course
range from the League of Nations to the United Nations, from the World
Bank to the World Trade Organization, from the European Union to the
African Union, from the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA)
to the Association of Southeast Asian Nations (ASEAN) and from the North
Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) to the International Criminal Court.
The course is designed to equip you with the analytical tools necessary
for making sense of the evolution of the international system from the
nineteenth century to the present, and for accurately and critically
assessing the role of international organisations therein. The subject
guide’s disciplinary ambit ranges from anthropology to economics, from
history to law and from political science to sociology.
Against the background of diverse disciplinary approaches, it acquaints
you with key themes and essential readings concerning the study of
international organisations. By tracing the changing forms and functions of
multilateralism across space and time, the guide provides students with an
accessible and comprehensive overview of one of the most important and
policy-relevant fields of study in international relations.
Aims
The course and this subject guide aim to give you an understanding of
the major theoretical and empirical aspects of the role of international
organisations in international politics, including, inter alia, their impact on:
• the practice of international cooperation and conflict
• the maintenance of international peace and security
• the management of international economic relations
• the promotion of international environmental standards
• the prosecution of international crimes
• related matters of concern to international society.
Learning outcomes
At the end of this course, and having completed the Essential reading and
activities, you should be able to:
• demonstrate you have thoroughly understood the core literature on
international organisations
• engage with this literature critically by developing your own
argumentation
• explain the main theoretical approaches and empirical issues in the
study of international organisations
• write clearly, effectively and critically about these issues.
1
How to use this guide

The subject guide is organised into three parts and 13 chapters. Each of the
parts is devoted to a major theme in the study of international organisations,
namely the theory, history and practice of these institutions, respectively. For
it is imperative that students in the social sciences, including international
relations, excel at both theoretical and empirical reasoning. And when it
comes to the latter, it is indispensable that you acquire a solid appreciation of
international organisations, then and now. For we will only be able to imagine
institutional futures if we comprehend institutional pasts.
Part I is dedicated to the theory of international organisations. Comprising
three chapters, it provides an overview of contending bodies of thought,
namely:
• realism (including neo-realism)
• liberalism (including neo-liberal institutionalism)
• constructivism.
Each chapter explicates the major tenets of the intellectual perspective
with which it is concerned, with particular reference to the contributions
of major scholars, ranging from John Mearsheimer to Robert Keohane, and
from Ernst Haas to Michael Barnett and Martha Finnemore.
Part II consists of one chapter and is concerned with the history of
international organisations. It offers a brief history from 1815 to the
present.
Part III covers the practice of international organisations. Grounded in
the theoretical and historical foundations laid in Chapters 1–5, Chapters
6–12 turn to the contemporary law and politics of select international
organisations. The focus is on sets of major international organisations.
Each of the chapters provides an analysis of institutional origins, effects
and futures. Moreover, you will find a concise overview of the institutions
and procedures that make each international organisation work.
Unless otherwise stated, all websites in this subject guide were accessed in
April 2012. We cannot guarantee, however, that they will stay current and
you may need to perform an internet search to find the relevant pages.
Parts I–III are framed by introductory and concluding chapters that
preview and review, respectively, the study of international organisations.
The purpose of the subject guide

The purpose of this subject guide is to provide an overview of the key
concepts, questions, theories, disciplines and methodologies relevant to
the study of international organisations. It should be read alongside – not
instead of – the books, chapters and articles assigned as Essential reading.
It is through the diligent and regular preparation of these materials
that you will acquire an improved understanding of the nature and
operation of international organisations. As such, the subject guide offers
a convenient entry point into the subject matter, but no more than that. It
offers some food for thought and an intellectual framework within which
you can organise your studies. It must be complemented with insights
derived directly from the scholarly literature.
Turning from the subject guide as a whole to its constituent parts, each
chapter is organised in an identical manner. After setting out its particular
aims and learning outcomes, it proceeds to set out the reading materials
relevant to the topic in question.
2
Introduction
Reading
Each chapter generally lists two categories of reading: Essential reading
and Further reading. All listings under the rubric of the former are
mandatory and indispensable for making sense of the topic in question.
They are listed in order of importance and should be read carefully and in
their entirety. All readings listed under the latter rubric are optional and
are listed alphabetically at the start of each chapter. Further readings are
resources for you to consult in order for you to further your interest or
deepen or broaden your knowledge of the topic in question. To help you
read extensively, you have free access to the VLE and University of London
Online Library (see below).
There is a full bibliography for this course in an appendix at the end of the
guide.
Essential reading
The following three introductory texts are recommended for purchase.
Hurd, Ian International Organizations: Politics, Law, Practice. (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2011) [ISBN 9780521147378].
Armstrong, David, Lorna Lloyd and John Redmond International Organisation
in World Politics. (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2004) third edition [ISBN
9781403903037].
Karns, Margaret P. and Karen A. Mingst International Organizations: The Politics
and Processes of Global Governance. (Boulder, Colo.: Lynne Rienner, 2010)
second edition [ISBN 9781588266989].
Detailed reading references in this subject guide refer to the editions of the
set textbooks listed above. New editions of one or more of these textbooks
may have been published by the time you study this course. You can use
a more recent edition of any of the books; use the detailed chapter and
section headings and the index to identify relevant readings. Also check
the virtual learning environment (VLE) regularly for updated guidance on
readings.
Activities
Each chapter of this subject guide contains several learning activities.
These activities are designed to aid you in the comprehension and
retention of the theoretical and empirical information. The nature of the
activities varies. Some of them highlight additional, particularly salient
resources; others demand independent study.
At the conclusion of each chapter, the guide summarises in the form of a
reminder the chief learning outcomes that you are expected to have reached.
The inclusion of Sample examination questions is intended to facilitate
appropriate preparation for the written examination. As part of your studies,
you are strongly encouraged to attempt to answer at least one of the
questions per chapter under timed examination conditions. Answers should
be around 1,500 words in length, and you should strive for originality,
soundness and clarity of argument and evidence, as discussed below.
Online study resources

In addition to the subject guide and the Essential reading, it is crucial that
you take advantage of the study resources that are available online for this
course, including the VLE and the Online Library.
3
You can access the VLE, the Online Library and your University of London email
account via the Student Portal at: http://my.londoninternational.ac.uk
You should have received your login details for the Student Portal with
your official offer, which was emailed to the address that you gave on your
application form. You have probably already logged in to the Student Portal in
order to register. As soon as you registered, you will automatically have been
granted access to the VLE, Online Library and your fully functional University
of London email account.
If you forget your login details at any point, please email uolia.support@
london.ac.uk quoting your student number.
The VLE
The VLE, which complements this subject guide, has been designed to
enhance your learning experience, providing additional support and a sense
of community. It forms an important part of your study experience with the
University of London and you should access it regularly.
The VLE provides a range of resources for EMFSS courses.
• Self-testing activities. Doing these allows you to test your own
understanding of subject material.
• Electronic study materials. The printed materials that you receive from
the University of London are available to download, including updated
reading lists and references.
• Past examination papers and Examiners’ commentaries. These provide
advice on how each examination question might best be answered.
• A student discussion forum. This is an open space for you to discuss
interests and experiences, seek support from your peers, work
collaboratively to solve problems and discuss subject material.
• Videos. There are recorded academic introductions to the subject,
interviews and debates and, for some courses, audio-visual tutorials and
conclusions.
• Recorded lectures. For some courses, where appropriate, the sessions from
previous years’ study weekends have been recorded and made available.
• Study skills. Expert advice on preparing for examinations and developing
your digital literacy skills.
• Feedback forms.
Some of these resources are available for certain courses only, but we are
expanding our provision all the time and you should check the VLE regularly
for updates.
Making use of the Online Library

The Online Library contains a huge array of journal articles and other
resources to help you read widely and extensively.
To access the majority of resources via the Online Library you will
either need to use your University of London Student Portal login details, or
you will be required to register and use an Athens login:
http://tinyurl.com/ollathens
The easiest way to locate relevant content and journal articles in the Online
Library is to use the Summon search engine.
If you are having trouble finding an article listed in a reading list, try
removing any punctuation from the title, such as single quotation marks,
question marks and colons.
4
Introduction
For further advice, please see the online help pages: www.external.shl.lon.
ac.uk/summon/about.php
Syllabus
As stated in the Regulations, the course seeks to give students an
understanding of the major theoretical and empirical aspects of the role
of international organisations in international politics, including, inter
alia, their impact on the practice of international cooperation and conflict,
the maintenance of international peace and security, the management
of international economic relations, the promotion of international
environmental standards, the prosecution of international crimes, and
related matters of concern to international society.
• Origins of international organisations: why do IOs such as the
Organization of American States emerge?
• Development of international organisations: what goes on within IOs
such as the United Nations?
• Effects of international organisations: what difference do IOs such as
the International Monetary Fund make?
• Pathologies of international organisations: when do IOs such as the
European Union go wrong?
Examination
Important: the information and advice given here are based on the
examination structure used at the time this guide was written. Please
note that subject guides may be used for several years. Because of this we
strongly advise you to always check both the current Regulations for relevant
information about the examination, and the VLE where you should be advised
of any forthcoming changes. You should also carefully check the rubric/
instructions on the paper you actually sit and follow those instructions.
This course is assessed by a three-hour unseen written examination. As
part of the examination, which accounts for 100 per cent of the grade,
students are required to answer four out of 12 questions. The appendix
contains a Sample examination paper. In order to test for deep acquisition
of knowledge, you are expected to integrate theory and history and bring
empirical evidence to bear on the examination questions you choose.
Several criteria are applied in the evaluation of examination answers. First-
class essays will excel in terms of all of the following criteria:
1. Originality of argument: How unexpected is the claim advanced?
2. Use of literature: Has relevant scholarship been digested and put to
good use?
3. Soundness of analysis: Is the inquiry comprehensive and logically
consistent and addressing the posed question?
4. Organisation of evidence: Have argument and evidence been
introduced and presented in a compelling manner?
5. Validity of findings: Does the argument remain valid when applied
empirically?
6. Clarity of presentation: Are grammar, punctuation and references
flawless?
You are strongly advised to consult past examination papers as well as
Examiners’ commentaries as part of your examination preparation. The
5
latter in particular contain valuable information about how to approach

the examination. Both sets of documents can be found on the VLE.
Remember, it is important to check the VLE for:
• up-to-date information on examination and assessment arrangements
for this course
• where available, past examination papers and Examiners’ commentaries
for the course which give advice on how each question might best be
answered.
Recommended study time

The Strategies for success subject guide gives information for students
about courses and study time. Generally, a typical course requires six to
eight hours study per week as a minimum.
List of abbreviations
ASEAN Association of Southeast Asian Nations
AU African Union
CEDAW Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination
against Women
CIS Commonwealth of Independent States
COE Council of Europe
CSCE Conference for Security and Co-operation in Europe
DPA Department of Political Affairs, United Nations
DPKO Department of Peacekeeping Affairs, United Nations
EC European Community
ECCC Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia
ECOMOG Economic Community of West African States Monitoring
Group
ECOSOC United Nations Economic and Social Council
ECOWAS Economic Council of West African States
ECHR European Convention on Human Rights
E-10 Elected 10 Members of the UNSC
FAO Food and Agriculture Organization
GATT General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade
G-7 Group of Finance Ministers of 7 Industrialised Countries
G-8 Group of Heads of Government of 7 Industrialised Countries
and Russia
G-77 Group of 77 Developing Countries
G-20 Group of 20 Finance Ministers and Central Bank Governors
of 19 Countries and EU
IAEA International Atomic Energy Agency
ICC International Criminal Court
ICCPR International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights
ICJ International Court of Justice
ICRC International Committee of the Red Cross
6
Introduction
ICTR International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda

ICTY International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia
IFAD International Fund for Agricultural Development
ILO International Labour Organization
IMF International Monetary Fund
IMO International Maritime Organization
IPCC Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change
ITU International Telecommunication Union
MERCOSUR Common Market for the Southern Hemisphere
NAFTA North American Free Trade Agreement
NAM Non-aligned Movement
NATO North Atlantic Treaty Organization
OAS Organization of American States
OAU Organisation of African Unity
OHCHR Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for
Human Rights
OPEC Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries
OSCE Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe
P-5 Permanent Five Members of the UNSC
R2P Responsibility to Protect (or Rtop)
SADC Southern African Development Community
SCSL Special Court for Sierra Leone
TEU Treaty on European Union
UIA Union of International Associations
UNCTAD United Nations Commission on Trade and Development
UNDP United Nations Development Programme
UNEP United Nations Environment Programme
UNESCO United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural
Organization
UNFPA United Nations Population Fund
UNGA United Nations General Assembly
UNHCR United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees
UNICEF United Nations Children’s Fund
UNODC United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime
UNSC United Nations Security Council
UPU Universal Postal Union
WEU Western European Union
WFP World Food Programme
WHO World Health Organization
WIPO World Intellectual Property Organization
WMO World Meteorological Organization
WTO World Trade Organization
7
Notes
8
Chapter 1: The study of international organisations
Chapter 1: The study of international

organisations
Aims and learning outcomes

The aim of this chapter is to elaborate what it means to study international
organisations from a scholarly perspective. It explores the nature of
international organisations − and the challenges involved in making sense
of them.
By the end of this chapter, and having completed the Essential readings
and activities, you should be able to:
• describe what international organisations are
• distinguish international institutions from international organisations
• outline the difference between the description and the study of
international organisations, namely, the difference between journalistic
and academic writings.
Essential reading
Hurd, Ian, International Organizations: Politics, Law, Practice. (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2011), pp.1−14.
Ruggie, John Gerard ‘Multilateralism: The Anatomy of an Institution’,
International Organization, 46(3) (Summer 1992), pp.561−98.
Hollis, Martin and Steve Smith Explaining and Understanding International
Relations. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991), pp.45−91.
Further reading
Archer, Clive International Organizations. (London: Routledge, 2001) third
edition.
in World Politics. (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2004) third edition.
Avant, Deborah D., Martha Finnemore and Susan K. Sell (eds) Who Governs the
Globe? (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).
Barnett, Michael and Raymond Duvall (eds) Power in Global Governance.
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005).
Claude, Inis Swords into Plowshares: The Progress and Problems of International
Organization. (New York: Random House, [1956] 1971) fourth edition.
Duffield, John ‘What Are International Institutions?’ International Studies
Review, 9(1) (Spring 2007), pp.1−22.
Fawcett, Louise and Andrew Hurrell (eds) Regionalism in World Politics:
Regional Organization and International Order. (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1996).
second edition.
Kratochwil, Friedrich V. and John G. Ruggie ‘International Organization: A
State of the Art on an Art of the State’, International Organization, 40(4)
Autumn 1986), pp.753−75.
Martin, Lisa and Beth Simmons (eds) International Institutions: An International
Organization Reader. (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2001).
Mattli, Walter and Ngaire Woods (eds) The Politics of Global Regulation.
(Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2009).
9
Rittberger, Volker, Bernhard Zangl and Andreas Kruck International

Organization. (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2012) second edition.
Rochester, J. Martin ‘The Rise and Fall of International Organization as a
Field of Study’, International Organization, 40(4) (September 1986),
pp.777−813.
Ruggie, John Gerard (ed.) Multilateralism Matters: The Theory and Practice of
an Institutional Form. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993).
Zartman, I. William and Saadia Touval (eds) International Cooperation: The
Extents and Limits of Multilateralism. (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2010).
Introduction
This chapter provides an overview of the rise and fall and rebirth
of international organisations as a sub-field of study in the field of
international relations. The discussion proceeds under four separate
headings:
1. concepts
2. questions
3. theories
4. disciplines.
It will quickly become apparent that the meaning of international
organisations is in the eye of the beholder, for scholars of different
persuasions and disciplines have contending and even irreconcilable
views of whether international organisations matter in international
politics, and of the conditions under which they might. In passing, the
chapter introduces a working definition of ‘international organisations’,
distinguishing the concept from that of ‘international institutions’.
Related concepts to be discussed include ‘unilateralism’, ‘bilateralism’ and
‘multilateralism’, as well as ‘cooperation’.
In response to the complexity of the subject matter, this chapter makes a
case for the triangulation of insights from the theory, history and practice
of international organisations. This notwithstanding, the principal basis of
this intellectual endeavour is the social sciences.
Concepts
For those not familiar with them, the notion of the ‘social sciences’ frequently
is awe-inspiring. In this context an anecdote comes to mind that involves
National Public Radio or NPR, the influential US non-profit radio network
(Hechter and Horne, 2003: 3). At one point, a journalist at this American
equivalent of the BBC was wondering how rocket scientists expressed the
idea that something may be difficult but ‘It isn’t rocket science.’ In order to
find out, the NPR journalist did what journalists do best: he asked around.
The first stop, naturally, were the rocket scientists. How did they convey that
something was demanding but not beyond their natural grasp? The rocket
scientists that the NPR reporter interviewed responded that they often said
that ‘something may be difficult, but it isn’t theoretical physics’. Naturally,
the reporter proceeded to interview a theoretical physicist. The theoretical
physicist responded that he and his colleagues often said that ‘something may
be difficult, but it isn’t social science.’
The purpose of this anecdote is to drive home the point that social
phenomena are usually staggeringly complex − complex enough to
intimidate a theoretical physicist. And international organisations are
10
among the most complex of these phenomena. Put differently, newcomers

to the study of international organisations should not feel discouraged
if it takes them a few weeks to wrap their heads around some of the
terminology and rather abstract ideas that are germane to the academic
literature in international relations and related fields of study. It is normal
to feel temporarily disoriented during the transition from journalism
to academia in the study of international organisations. This being so,
this guide is designed to help you meet the challenge. Let us start with
‘concepts’.
Concepts are the building blocks of any serious undertaking in the social
sciences. As imagined constructs of abstract thought, concepts refer to
a general idea or notion that corresponds to some set of entities and
which names, often by way of simplification, the defining attributes or
essential features of the set. Examples of much-debated concepts include
‘democracy’, ‘liberalism’, ‘freedom’ and ‘development’. As such, concepts
form the basis of theory development, and they also influence the selection
of units of analysis, what is often referred to as ‘cases’, in the methodology
of the social sciences. What, then, are we to make of the concept of
‘international organisations’?
The question is far from trivial, for before we can make claims about
their role(s) and utility in international politics, we must make sure that
we are talking about the same phenomenon. Otherwise our findings
might not be comparable − like the proverbial apples and oranges. Or,
as Elinor Ostrom (1986: 4), a recent Nobel Laureate in Economics, once
put it: ‘No scientific field can advance far if the participants do not share a
common understanding of key terms.’ The conceptual imperative applies
to students as much as it does to scholars. An examination answer that
fails to carefully clarify the terms it uses, will be wanting from the outset.
Having established the importance of concepts, we shall now look at a few
definitions of the concept of ‘international organisation’. The point is not
to adopt one or another of these definitions, but to be aware of the varied
conceptual landscape, and the challenges involved in defining the essence
of the phenomenon at the heart of this subject guide.
In 1970, Michael Wallace and David Singer proffered this definition:
[An international organization] must consist of at least two
qualified members of the international system [and have
been] created by a formal instrument of agreement between
the governments of national states… [In addition,] [t]he
organization must hold more or less regular plenary sessions
at intervals not greater than a decade [and have a permanent
secretariat with a permanent headquarters and which performs
ongoing tasks].
Already 14 years earlier, in 1956, Inis Claude, arguably the founding father
of the systematic study of international organisations, had introduced this
conceptualisation:
International organization [in the singular] is a process;
international organizations [in the plural] are representative
aspects of the phase of that process which has been reached at a
given time.
Crucially, Claude’s distinction brings us to an important concept,
namely that of ‘multilateralism’, that is related to that of international
organisation, but not identical to it. Here is a nominal definition by Robert
Keohane, an eminent scholar of international relations whose work will be
featured prominently in Chapter 3 of the subject guide below:
11
[Multilateralism] is the practice of co-ordinating national policies

in groups of three or more states.
Another scholar, John Ruggie (1992), as the assigned article makes
clear, takes issue with this definition. Although Ruggie’s classic article
is conceptually and theoretically demanding, it is not just of academic
significance. Incidentally, Ruggie, like several other leading scholars of
international relations, has oscillated between theory and practice. In
addition to having made major contributions to international relations
theory (notably to what we will encounter as constructivism in Chapter
4), Ruggie has served in the higher echelons of the United Nations system.
Now at Harvard University, and formerly at Columbia University, Ruggie,
between 1997 and 2001, served as UN Assistant Secretary-General and
chief advisor for strategic planning to Kofi Annan, then UN Secretary-
General. Since 2005, Ruggie has been the Secretary-General’s Special
Representative on human rights and transnational corporations and
other business enterprises. Why is such biographical information worth
mentioning? It is worth mentioning to highlight that the academic study
of international organisations is neither divorced from nor irrelevant, as
some claim, to the practice of multilateralism in the international system.
But let us get back to the task at hand and introduce a useful working
definition adapted from Clive Archer (2001: 33) who defines international
organisations as:
formal, continuous structures established by agreement between
members… from two or more sovereign states with the aim of
pursuing the common interest of membership.
The advantage of this definition is its explicit focus on the formal
characteristics of international organisations that Wallace and Singer
had already emphasised thirty years earlier. This brings us usefully to
the question of how the concepts of ‘international organisations’ and
‘international institutions’ relate to one another. Although in current affairs
and journalistic parlance the two terms are used synonymously, in the
study of international organisations a marked conceptual difference exists.
This distinction will become ever clearer in the theoretical and empirical
chapters to come. At this point, a basic differentiation will suffice. For
the purpose of this subject guide, the concept of international institutions
connotes, following John Duffield (2007: 7):
relatively stable sets of related constitutive, regulative, and
procedural norms and rules that pertain to the international
system, the actors in the system (including states as well as
nonstate entities), and their activities.
The contrast between this definition and virtually all of the
aforementioned definitions of international organisations is stark. The
conceptual difference can be put more simply than in Duffield’s words. To
avoid confusion, students may want to think of international institutions
as (some of) the ‘rules of game’ in international politics, consisting of
the formal legal rules (such as international law) and the informal social
norms (such as international ethics) that govern individual behaviour
and structure social interactions among states and other actors on the
international stage. By this token, students will want to conceive of
international organisations as formal instantiations of certain aspects of
international institutions that come with attributes such as buildings and
bureaucracies and budgets. International organisations thus refer to those
groups of people and the governance they create in an effort to coordinate
collective action for the pursuit of specific international public or private
12
or mixed goods. By way of example, an international organisation such as

the International Court of Justice (ICJ), the principal judicial organ of the
UN, can be seen as a formal expression of the operation of international
law, one of several international institutions in the international
system. Whereas international law is a rather amorphous set of related
constitutive, regulative and procedural norms and rules, the ICJ is a very
concrete brick-and-mortar organisation, composed of 15 judges elected to
nine-year terms of office by the UN General Assembly and the UN Security
Council, and headquartered in the imposing Peace Palace on Carnegieplein
in The Hague.
The distinction between international institutions and international
organisations goes back loosely to yet another Nobel Laureate in
Economics, Douglass North, who spent several decades coming to terms
with the significance of domestic institutions. Incidentally, it was for
this important and pathbreaking body of work that he was awarded the
Swedish Academy’s coveted prize.
Activity
What is the conceptual distinction between ‘international institutions’ and ‘international
organisations’?
Questions
Having established that concepts matter in the study of international
organisations, it is useful to elaborate further on how exactly they
1
Union of International
matter. In a most basic sense, it is impossible to ask real-world questions
Associations, Yearbook
about social phenomena without putting a label on them. What kinds of International
of questions are pressing when it comes to international organisations? Organizations 2010–
Why should we care about them in the first place? Three answers come to 2011, Volume 5 (Leiden:
mind: ubiquity, centrality and pathology. Martinus Nijhoff, 2010),
p.35, Figure 2.9. The
First, international organisations make for an important subject of figure breaks down as
study because they simply are everywhere. Take the allegations over follows: 7,544 IGOs and
corruption in the higher ranks of FIFA, the world football association, 55,853 INGOs. Needless
that came to a head in 2011. FIFA is an international organisation. As is to say, the precise
number of international
the International Olympic Committee, the IOC, which every four years
associations depends
organises the Olympic Games. Both FIFA and IOC are private international on the method of
organisations, better known as non-intergovernmental organisations classification and
(INGOs), of which more in Chapter 8, when the subject guide turns to the counting used. The UIA
classification of international organisations. The point is that international is working with a rather
organisations exist above and beyond the handful of public international broad definition.
organisations (IGOs) that regularly make the news, such as the UN,
the IMF, the World Bank or the WTO. There are far more international
organisations than there are sovereign states in the international system.
The Union of International Associations (UIA), publisher of the Yearbook of
International Organizations, in 2010 came up with a total figure of 63,397,
of which it classified 7,554 as IGOs.1 According to the UIA, all of the
international organisations on its roster combined convened a staggering 2
Joel Fischer,
316,534 international meetings in the reporting period 2009–10.2 In short, ‘International Meeting
international organisations are ubiquitous − not an insignificant reason Statistics for the
to study them. Year 2010,’ Union
of International
Second, international organisations make for an important subject of Associations, Press
study because they are central to many facets of international life. Talking Release, June 2011,
about sovereign states, for example, it is difficult to get by as a polity in available at www.uia.
the international system without being accredited by the UN. For what be/sites/uia.be/files/
documents/statistics/
some have called ‘juridical statehood’ (Jackson and Rosberg, 1982) is
press/press11.pdf
13
bestowed exclusively in the iconic building on New York City’s East

River. Without the imprimatur of the world body, no state will rest easily.
Empirical statehood, as it were, is necessary for survival in international
politics, but is generally not sufficient for success. The case of Palestine is
a case in point. In the spring of 2011, Palestinian representatives lobbied
fiercely for a UN vote on Palestinian statehood in September of that year,
preparing the submission of a resolution that would bring UN membership
and thus international independence from and leverage vis-à-vis Israel.
If we assume, for a moment, that states are the most important actors
in the international system, and that the UN has a constitutive role in
making these actors acceptable to international society, we would be
hard-pressed to deny the centrality of at least this particular international
organisation. Say what you like about the effectiveness of the UN system,
it is undeniable that it does play an important role in international politics
(as well as in the domestic politics of many countries). Consider also the
UN’s involvement in the context of state formation after state collapse
under the umbrella of what has become known as ‘international territorial
administration’. And numerous other international organisations have lent
their helping hands and funds to these missions as well, from the IMF and
World Bank to the EU and NATO, to name but a few.
Third, and perhaps less obvious, international organisations make for
an important subject of study because most of them are marred, in one
way or another, by various pathologies. The term is apt. First used by
Karl Deutsch many decades ago, it made a return in recent years, when
Michael Barnett and Martha Finnemore (1999) usefully re-introduced
it into the study of international organisations. For it is regrettable but
undeniable that there appears to be ‘rather uncritical optimism about IO
behavior’ that can be traced back to the so-called Wilsonianism (named
after former US President Woodrow Wilson) that was born in the early
twentieth century and which conceived of international organisations
solely as promoters of peace and well-being. The strong wish of many
liberal thinkers around the world to see the destructive power of states
curbed by multilateralism often blinded them to the pathological aspects
of international organisations. Surprisingly, scholars of international
relations have largely failed to take seriously the study of IO dysfunction.
Presumably, the fear that constructive criticism from the left could
embolden destructive critics on the right (for example, US politicians
favouring American isolationism over American internationalism)
persuaded some scholars to forgo a serious engagement with international
organisations and instead simply rehearse the well-worn moral defence
of international organisations, which holds, drawing loosely on Immanuel
Kant’s Perpetual Peace, that multilateralism qua nature is always preferable
to unilateralism. As a result of this benign academic neglect of the dark
sides of international organisations, neither scholars nor practitioners
are sufficiently prepared for devising policies aimed at improving the
effectiveness of international organisations in the twenty-first century.
For as Barnett and Finnemore (2004: 34−5) not long ago reminded us,
international organisations are, first and foremost, bureaucracies. And
bureaucracies everywhere ‘are infamous for creating and implementing
policies that defy rational logic, for acting in ways that are at odds with
their stated mission, and for refusing requests of and turning their backs
on those to whom they are officially responsible’. In other words, the third
reason for studying international organisations relates to the surprisingly
perverse incentives to which they regularly give rise and the unintended
consequences that they often produce.
14
To be sure, focusing on the pathologies of international organisations

is very different from endorsing invectives about the UN and related
organisations coming from the likes of US Republican Senator Jesse Helms
and John Bolton, the firebrand former US Ambassador to the UN. The
former approach is about engagement with one of the most important set
of regularities of international politics, the latter about disengagement. If
we care about the comity of nations, it is indispensable and high time that
scholars of international relations study international organisations more
rigorously, meaningfully and comprehensively than they have for most
of the last 50 years. The aim of this subject guide is to give you the tools
necessary for beginning to doing so. So much for the reasons for studying
international organisations. Once one has resolved to take them seriously,
what is to be done? In answer, the remainder of the guide offers a brief
overview of important topics of study and a series of illustrative questions
from the academic literature to which subsequent chapters will return.
Four areas of inquiry can be profitably distinguished, namely those
pertaining to the: authority, bureaucracy, efficacy and legitimacy of
international organisations.
Questions regarding authority take issue with the relative significance
and insignificance of multilateralism. They raise subsidiary questions
about whether (and, if so, how) international organisations have an
independent effect on international outcomes (i.e. as actors in their own
right), or whether they are merely expressions of the power of states. An
exemplary question would be ‘What authority (if any) does the EU have
in international politics?’ The debate over humanitarian intervention in
Libya, and the strong disagreements among several leading EU member
states, attests to the empirical significance of investigating the authority
(or lack thereof) of international organisations. Related are questions
pertaining to states’ compliance and non-compliance with the rules of
international organisations. The case of the WTO and the performance
of its Dispute Settlement Mechanism come to mind in the area of
international trade.
Questions about bureaucracy, as already intimated, have more to do
with the inner workings of international organisations, notably their
institutional design and practices. A newer avenue of research has
prioritised the exploration of organisational cultures within, for example,
the World Bank (Sarfaty, 2009), IMF (Chwieroth, 2009), UN (Barnett),
and the ICC (Meierhenrich, forthcoming). A conceivable question with an
empirical referent comes to mind: How does bureaucratic organisation
affect AU decision-making? Does it aid or undermine international
cooperation? Why and when? Efficacy, as a third major area of inquiry,
can be said to be concerned with illuminating the conditions under
which, say, UN peacekeeping works and fails (Autesserre, 2010). Here
the emphasis is on concrete questions of performance. Lastly, there are
questions pertaining to legitimacy, that is, the ways in which international
organisations are perceived by those within its reach. For a staple in
political science research holds that for institutions to be effective they
need to be perceived as legitimate. Whether this is empirically true for
international organisations, and when, is a question not conclusively
answered. By way of illustration, scholars of the IMF do wonder whether
structural adjustment programmes, where they failed, were ineffective
because they were deemed illegitimate, or whether they came to be seen
as illegitimate because they proved ineffective. It goes without saying that
the list of important research questions about international organisations
is far from exhausted.
15
Theories
Now that we have a better sense of the kinds of questions worth asking
in the study of international organisations, it is opportune to illustrate the
role of theories in answering them. A key part of studying international
organisations academically (as opposed to journalistically) is thinking about
them in terms of explanations in which certain concepts become variables.
The objective of many scholars in the social sciences, albeit not all, is to
combine select variables into theories. Such theories are usually tested
by deriving hypotheses from them and by measuring the validity of these
hypotheses against empirical evidence. Since, as mentioned, this course
is committed to theoretical reasoning as well as empirical reasoning, it is
important to unpack these fundamental terms of the trade, what we might
call the nature of explanation. Here is a simple visual representation of the
relationships among several key terms. See Figure 1.1.
[A] Theory
Independent variable Conjecture Dependent variable

(as abstract concept) (as abstract concept)
[B] Operationalisation
Hypothesis
Independent variable Dependent variable
(as measurable concept) (as measurable concept)
[C] Measurement
Figure 1.1: The nature of explanation

Variables are concepts with values, such as the ‘likelihood of war’ or
‘rate of compliance’ or ‘power of international organisations’. Social
scientists often distinguish between dependent and independent
variables. The former connotes a factor to be explained (sometimes called
an explanandum in Latin), the latter a factor that does the explaining
(sometimes called an explanans). This example will clarify matters: Some
theorists of international relations believe that international organisations
are causes of peace. In this example, peace is the dependent variable,
and international organisations become the independent variable. A
theory [A], then, is a somewhat formal, tentative conjecture about the
relationship between a number of variables, including an independent
variable (or more than one) and an independent variable (usually not
more than one). In order to find out whether this conjecture holds true
in the real world of international politics, it becomes necessary to derive
specific hypotheses from the theory in question. This involves turning the
abstract concepts at their heart into measurable concepts. This process
is called operationalisation [B] and usually involves the development of
indicators for the variables being measured. At its successful conclusion
stands a hypothesis, which we can think of as a theory-based statement
about the causal relationship that we expect to observe between the
variables singled out for analysis. In our example, testing the empirical
validity of the theoretical conjecture that international organisations are
causes of peace can be accomplished by examining the hypothesis that
densely democratic international organisations contribute to the resolution
16
of international conflict. The testing of a hypothesis such as this involves

the measurement [C] of indicator values. In the case at hand, this can be
accomplished by comparing the incidence of militarised inter-state conflict
among members of densely democratic international organisations to the
propensity for conflict among members of other types of international
organisations (see Pevehouse and Russett, 2006). The statement of
the results of a process such as the one just described amounts to an
explanation, hopefully a convincing one.
But the quest for explanation is not the only way to make sense of the role
of international organisations in the international system. A contending
perspective prioritises understanding over explanation. See Figure 1.2.
What is the difference? In our daily lives, of course, we use the two terms
interchangeably. Not so in the social sciences and neighbouring disciplines.
There the two perspectives stand for two radically different ways of
studying the world around; they represent rival intellectual traditions. The
details of these philosophies need not concern us here. Yet it is important
to have a broad sense of where they differ, and why. Absent that, it will be
nigh impossible to fully comprehend the dense landscape that is the theory
of international organisations.
Whereas explanation (favoured by most realist and liberal scholars of
international relations) is about the application of the scientific method
to questions of international organisations, understanding (favoured
by most, but not all, constructivist scholars of international relations) is
about the application of the hermeneutic method. Explanation has its
origins in a philosophy of the social sciences known as positivism (as
represented by such diverse scholars as the philosopher David Hume, the
sociologist Auguste Comte and the philosophers Carl Gustav Hempel and
Karl Popper). The emphasis of this intellectual tradition is on causality
and the development of hypotheses and so-called covering laws. The
singular method is deductive reasoning for the purpose of generalisation.
The overarching goal of any explanation is an objective account of social
action, international or otherwise.
Explanation Understanding
Origin Positivism Interpretivism
Concern Causality Constitution
Method Deduction Induction
Goal Generalisation Particularisation
Ideal Objectivity Subjectivity
Figure 1.2: Explanation and understanding
Understanding, by contrast, has its origins in the philosophy of the
social sciences known as interpretivism (as practised by the likes of
the sociologist Georg Simmel and the historian R.G. Collingwood). The
emphasis of this intellectual tradition is on the constitution of actors and
relations and the elaboration of meaning and stories. It pursues inductive
reasoning for the purpose of particularisation. The overarching goal
of any effort at understanding is a subjective account of social action.
For the purpose of this subject guide, scholars intent on understanding
international organisations will be content with producing an ‘empathetic
reading’ of, say, a given international organisation. An outstanding
example is Michael Barnett’s (2002) study of the goings-on at the UN
Secretariat during the 1994 genocide in Rwanda. Barnett’s sole objective
was to make sense of international action and inaction from within the
much-maligned international body. Another, more recent example is
17
that of Séverine Autesserre (2010), who delved deep into the culture of
peacekeeping of MONUC, the problematic UN Mission in the Democratic
Republic of Congo. Explanations of international organisations have
very different ambitions. They are generally aimed at saying something
that holds true above and beyond the context in which the research was
carried out. A prominent example of this mode of proceeding is the work
of many scholars developing what became known as regime theory of
international institutions (e.g. Krasner, 1985). More recent examples
include the work by Andrew Moravcsik on European integration (1998),
and writings on delegation and agency in international organisations
(Hawkins et al., 2006).
Such are the methodological differences between explanation and
understanding in the study of international organisations. Martin Hollis
and Steve Smith (1990: 87) summarise the principal difference neatly:
‘To understand is to reproduce the order in the minds of the actors; to
explain is to find causes in the scientific manner.’ As subsequent chapters
demonstrate, scholarship that unites explanation and understanding often
has a great deal more to offer to the study of international organisations
than scholarship that favours one over the other. Often, the impetus for
crossing theoretical and methodological boundaries comes from disciplines
other than political science.
Activity
Read Stephen Van Evera, Guide to Methods for Students of Political Science. (Ithaca:
Cornell University Press, 1997) [ISBN 9780801484575], pp.7–48. Think about the
promise and limits of different methodological approaches to the study of international
organisations.
Disciplines
The study of international organisations was at first chiefly the province
of international lawyers. Leading perspectives from international law,
as Clive Archer (2001: 128) writes, ‘give particular consideration to the
constitutions of international organizations, their legal personalities
and institutional problems. Indeed, it was probably the Professor of
Law at Edinburgh University, J. Lorimer, who first coined the expression
“international organization” in 1867.’ Yet in the decades following the
creation, in the mid-1940s, of the post-Second World War international
order, the study of international organisations quickly became a staple of
political science. Although scholarly interest has waxed and waned over
the years, with international organisations as a topic moving to and from
the cutting edge of international relations research, recent years have
seen the emergence of sophisticated, empirically driven analyses never
seen before. Even economists and sociologists have discovered formal
international institutions, and an increasing number of anthropologists,
too, are beginning to take seriously international organisations. The
remainder will elucidate any and all of these contributions. But as
encouraging as these developments are for the theory and practice
of international organisations alike, it is important to be mindful of
intellectual blindspots in the study of international organisations.
Activity
Generally speaking, how do the disciplines of anthropology, economics, history, law,
political science and sociology differ?
18
A reminder of your learning outcomes

Having completed this chapter, and the Essential reading and activities,
you should be able to:
• describe what international organisations are
• distinguish international institutions from international organisations
• outline the difference between the description and the study of
international organisations, namely, the difference between journalistic
and academic writings.
Sample examination questions

1. What is multilateralism?
2. What is the purpose of studying international organisations?
3. What difference, if any, do epistemological differences make in the
study of international organisations?
19
Notes
20
Part I: The theory of international organisations
Part I: The theory of international

organisations
21
Notes
22
Chapter 2: Realism
Chapter 2: Realism

organisations from a realist perspective. It explores the paradigm of
realism in all its guises and explains why realists are sceptical about the
significance of international organisations.
• describe the key tenets of classical realism and structural realism
(commonly known as neo-realism)
• explain the sources of realism’s lack of faith in the power of
• outline the evolution of realist thinking about international
organisations (IOs) over time.
Essential reading
Grieco, Joseph M., ‘Anarchy and the Limits of Cooperation: A Realist Critique
of the Newest Liberal Institutionalism’, International Organization, 42(3)
(Summer 1988), pp.485−507.
Mearsheimer, John J. ‘The False Promise of International Institutions’,
International Security, 19(3) (Winter 1994/95), pp.73−91.
Further reading
Baldwin, David A. (ed.) Neorealism and Neoliberalism: The Contemporary
Debate. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993).
Bull, Hedley The Anarchical Society: A Study of Order in World Politics.
(Basingstoke: Palgrave, [1977] 2002) third edition.
Buzan, Barry, Charles Jones and Richard Little The Logic of Anarchy: Neorealism
to Structural Realism. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993).
Carr, E.H. The Twenty Years’ Crisis, 1919–1939: An Introduction to the Study of
International Relations. (Basingstoke: Palgrave, [1939] 2001) new edition.
Doyle, Michael W. Ways of War and Peace: Realism, Liberalism, and Socialism.
(New York: Norton, 1997).
Elman, Colin (ed.) Realism Reader. (London: Routledge, 2011).
Gilpin, Robert War and Change in World Politics. (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1983).
Gruber, Lloyd Ruling the World: Power Politics and the Rise of Supranational
Institutions. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000).
Little, Richard The Balance of Power in International Relations: Metaphors,
Myths, and Models. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007).
Keohane, Robert O. (ed.) Neorealism and its Critics. (New York: Columbia
May, Ernest R., Richard Rosecrance and Zara Steiner (eds) History and
Neorealism. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).
Mearsheimer, John J. The Tragedy of Great Power Politics. (New York: Norton,
2002).
Morgenthau, Hans J. Politics Among Nations: The Struggle for Power and Peace.
(Boston, Mass.: McGraw-Hill, [1948] 2005) seventh edition.
Norrlof, Carla America’s Global Advantage: US Hegemony and International
Cooperation. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).
23
Vasquez, John A. The Power of Power Politics: From Classical Realism to

Neotraditionalism. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999).
Walt, Stephen M. The Origins of Alliances. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University
Press, 1987).
Waltz, Kenneth N. Theory of International Politics. (Boston, Mass.: McGraw-Hill,
2010).
Introduction
Realist approaches to international relations come in a variety of guises.
What all of them have in common is the belief that international politics
revolves in important ways around the acquisition and exercise of power.
In what follows, I compare and contrast what the two major strands
of the realist paradigm – classical realism and structural realism (more
frequently known as neo-realism) – have to say about the nature and role
of international organisations in the international system.
Classical realism, or the tragic view of international

politics
The intellectual origins of the realist paradigm lay in the classical world.
Thucydides’ History of the Peloponnesian War in particular is commonly
seen as the first depiction of power politics. More than a millennium
later, Hans J. Morgenthau, a German émigré, picked up and refurbished
the ideas about the nature of international politics first articulated by
Thucydides in the context of Athens’ war with Sparta over hegemony in
the Mediterranean world in the years 431−404 BC.
What united Thucydides and Morgenthau, and what, as we shall see,
would come to separate them from present-day structural realists, was the
belief that the origins of international power politics were to be sought
in human nature. In fact, they believed that all politics, international
and otherwise, was fraught with danger because of man’s deeply
ingrained distrust of ‘the other’. Thomas Hobbes, of course, came to a
very similar conclusion in Leviathan, published in 1651, in which the
English philosopher describes the state of nature as bellum omium contra
omnes (‘war of all against all’). Morgenthau, spurred on by Thucydides
and Leviathan, not to mention his personal experience of the First and
Second World Wars, embraced this tragic view of international politics. His
publications and interventions, most notably Politics Among Nations (1948)
amounted, at least at first, to a plea against the use of ethics in foreign
policy, notably in US foreign policy. Morgenthau shared this scepticism
of morality with another German émigré, Henry Kissinger. Positions
such as these are ‘tragic’ in the sense that they conceive of international
politics as a perennial struggle for survival. Because this struggle revolves
centrally around fear and regularly results in suffering and pity, it
becomes comprehensible why most classical realists subscribe to the Greek
metaphor of tragedy when describing the nature of international politics.
And yet, Morgenthau, unlike structural realists, nevertheless appreciated
the role of norms and values in the creation of international peace and
security. From the outset, and this is sometimes overlooked, he emphasised
the importance of mutual understanding, and of ‘community’, among
nations for averting major war in the international system. Furthermore,
as Richard Ned Lebow has recently shown, Morgenthau in his later life
especially, altered his intellectual position somewhat and began to call
for ‘a principle of political organisation transcending the nation-state’. All
24
Chapter 2: Realism
of this is significant because it serves to highlight important theoretical

differences between classical and structural realism, and the perspective of
each on international organisations.
Activity
Why are classical realists so concerned with power?
From classical realism to structural realism

The impetus behind the invention of structural realism was two-fold: first,
to move beyond the emphasis on human nature as the principal driving
force of international politics; and, second, to introduce scientific rigour
into the realist research programme by advancing an integrated theory of
international politics. On both of these scores, Kenneth Waltz (1979) served
as the pacemaker. He also differed with classical realists when it came to the
relationship between domestic politics and international affairs. Whereas
the former saw similarities across these spheres, Waltz insisted on the
unique nature of international politics. The key tenets of structural realism
can be summarised as follows. First, Waltz and his followers conceived of
international politics as a struggle for power, wealth, or security. This sphere
was dominated, and crucially shaped, by great powers. Structural realists,
true to their name, believed the anarchic structure of the international
system was the most important determinant of state behaviour. More
specifically, in keeping with their emphasis on the centrality of great
powers, these new-style realists argued that the nature of polarity in the
international system was of crucial importance. Although structural realists
disagree amongst themselves as to whether a bipolar or multipolar system
is more conducive to international peace and security, and under what
conditions this might be the case, they share the belief that the anarchic
structure of the international system produces an uncertainty predicament,
which, in turn, gives rise to a survival imperative.
Put differently, states’ fear for survival is not rooted in human nature, as
classical realists believed, but has its origins in the institutional configuration
of the international system. Due to this configuration, states can never
be certain about the intentions of other states (and of their offensive
capabilities). Structural realists assume that the sovereign-less international
environment penalises any and all states that: fail to protect their vital
national interests, or pursue national interests beyond their capabilities.
Consequently, states (which are conceptualised as unitary-rational actors)
are said to be constantly engaging in means−ends calculations. Related to
this, structural realists contend that states are sensitive to any erosion of
their relative capabilities. It is not just about the maximisation of power,
wealth, and security, say structural realists. Rather, states are very conscious
of interest maximisation vis-à-vis other states. This brings us to the so-called
relative gains problem in international cooperation.
The ‘relative gains problem’ in international cooperation

The neo-realist scholar responsible for drawing attention, in the late
1980s, to the difference between relative gains and absolute gains was
Joseph Grieco. In a very influential article, he called into question an
article of faith on the part of liberal scholars of international relations –
the assumption that states, in their interactions with one another in the
international system, are chiefly concerned about absolute gains. This
view, argued Grieco, was both theoretically and empirically flawed. He
25
showed that states not only worry about interest-maximisation as such,

but about the maximisation of interests relative to the gains and losses
of other states. Grieco pointed out that states are not atomistic actors,
but positional actors. Following in the footsteps of Waltz, Grieco argued
that the first concern of states was not the pursuit of power, as classical
realists had suggested, but the maintenance of their relative position in the
international system. This concern, according to structural realists, has its
origins in states’ realisation that today’s friend could be tomorrow’s enemy.
In other words, Grieco and his colleagues believed that international
cooperation was a tricky proposition for many states because it raised
the spectre of the relative gains problem. On this argument, states are
reluctant to join or support international organisations if and when other
states stand to gain more by doing so. In fact, say structural realists, some
states may even forgo clear gains from international cooperation if that
prevents other states from improving their position in the international
system. After the preliminaries, we can now turn to one of the most
comprehensive neo-realist analyses of international organisations.
Activity
Make a list of the key differences between classical realism and structural realism/neo-
realism.
The false promise of international institutions: John

Mearsheimer
In a lengthy and ultimately very influential article, John Mearsheimer in
the mid-1990s developed an argument about what he called ‘the false
promise of international institutions’. His was a critique of liberal and
constructivist scholarship on international organisations. The article’s
title alludes to the normative underpinnings that, as Mearsheimer
sees it, inform contending theoretical perspectives on international
organisations. Simply put, international organisations cannot fulfil the
many hopes invested in them. From the vantage point of structural
realism, international organisations will never be more than a reflection
of the distribution of power in the international system. According
to Mearsheimer and other neo-realists, international institutions are
epiphenomenal, by which they mean that the United Nations, the
International Monetary Fund or the European Union have no independent
effect on international outcomes. If and when they matter, they do so
because states use international organisations instrumentally, for their own
gain.
If we believe Mearsheimer, international organisations are nothing more
than arenas for acting out power relationships among contending states.
They have no independent power themselves. He counters neo-liberal
arguments in defence of international organisations (of which more in the
next chapter) by pointing out, following Grieco, that the aforementioned
relative gains problem means that states are far less concerned with
the possibility of being cheated in international cooperation than with
the possibility of ending up worse off vis-à-vis other states regardless
of absolute gains. This, says structural realists, is why international
organisations will only ever matter on the margins of international politics.
26
Chapter 2: Realism
Conclusion
This chapter has provided an overview of leading realist perspectives on
international organisations. In addition to tracing the evolution of realist
thought from classical realism to structural realism, it has highlighted the
central role that the relative gains problem has played in international
relations theory.

• describe the key tenets of classical realism and structural realism
(commonly known as neo-realism)
• explain the sources of realism’s lack of faith in the power of
• outline the evolution of realist thinking about international
organisations (IOs) over time.

1. What is at stake in the debate over relative and absolute gains?
2. What are the strengths, what the weaknesses, of John Mearsheimer’s
perspective on international organisations?
3. How relevant is the realist paradigm for making sense of international
organisations?
27
Notes
28
Chapter 3: Liberalism

organisations from a liberal perspective. It explores the paradigm of
liberalism in all its guises and explains why liberals are optimistic about
the significance of international organisations.
• describe the key tenets of classical liberalism and neo-liberal
institutionalism
• explain the sources of liberalism’s faith in the power of international
organisations
• describe the evolution of liberal thinking about international
organisations over time.
Essential reading
Simmons, Beth A. and Lisa L. Martin ‘International Organizations and
Institutions’, in Walter Carlsnaes, Thomas Risse and Beth A. Simmons (eds)
Handbook of International Relations. (London: Sage, 2002), pp.192−211.
Pevehouse, Jon and Bruce Russett ‘Democratic International Governmental
Organizations Promote Peace’, International Organization, 60(4) (Fall
2006), pp.969−1000.
Further reading
Abbott, Kenneth W. and Duncan Snidal ‘Why States Act through Formal
International Organizations’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 42(1) (February
1998), pp.3−32.
Alter, Karen J. and Sophie Meunier ‘The Politics of International Regime
Complexity’, Perspectives on Politics, 7(1) (March 2009), pp.13−24.
Debate. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993).
(New York: Norton, 1997).
Haas, Ernst B. When Knowledge is Power: Three Models of Change in
International Organizations. (Berkeley, Cal.: University of California Press,
1990).
Haftel, Yoram Z. and Alexander Thompson ‘The Independence of International
Organizations’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 50(2) (April 2006),
pp.253−75.
Hasenclever, Andreas, Peter Mayer and Volker Rittberger Theories of
International Regimes. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997).
Hawkins, Darren G., David A. Lake, Daniel L. Nielson and Michael J. Tierney
(eds) Delegation and Agency in International Organizations. (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2006).
Keohane, Robert O. After Hegemony: Cooperation and Discord in the World
Economy. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2005).
Keohane, Robert O. ‘International Institutions: Two Approaches’, International
Studies Quarterly, 23(4) (December 1988), pp.379−96.
Keohane, Robert O. and Lisa L. Martin ‘The Promise of Institutionalist Theory’,
International Security, 20(1) (Summer 1995), pp.39−51.
29
Keohane, Robert O. and Joseph S. Nye Power and Interdependence: World Politics
in Transition (New York, London: Longman, c2001).
Keohane, Robert O. Stephen Macedo and Andrew Moravcsik ‘Democracy-
Enhancing Multilateralism’, International Organization, 63(1) (Winter
2009), pp.1−31.
Krasner, Stephen (ed.) International Regimes. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University
Press, 1983).
Martin, Lisa L. and Beth A. Simmons ‘Theories and Empirical Studies of
International Institutions’, International Organization, 52(4) (October
1998), pp.729−57.
Meyer, Peter and Volker Rittberger (eds) Regime Theory and International
Relations. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1995).
Moravcsik, Andrew ‘Taking Preferences Seriously: A Liberal Theory of
International Politics’, International Organization, 51(4) (Autumn 1997),
pp.513−53.
Ruggie, John Gerard ‘International Regimes, Transactions, and Change:
Embedded Liberalism in the Postwar Economic Order’, International
Organization, 36(2) (March 1982), pp.379−415.
Russett, Bruce and John R. Oneal Triangulating Peace: Democracy,
Interdependence, and International Organizations. (New York: Norton,
2001).
Young, Oran R. ‘Are Institutions Intervening Variables or Basic Causal Forces:
Causal Clusters vs. Causal Chains in International Society’, in Michael
Breecher and Frank P. Harvey (eds) Realism and Institutionalism in
International Studies. (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2002), pp.
176–91.
Introduction
Liberal approaches to international relations (IR) also come in a variety of
guises. What all of them have in common is the belief that international
politics is about more than the maximisation of power, wealth or security.
Unlike realists, liberals are convinced that individuals as well as states
are capable of cooperating despite the fact that the international system
is anarchic. In what follows, I compare and contrast what the two
major strands of the liberal paradigm – classical liberalism and neo-
liberal institutionalism (NI) – have to say about the nature and role of
international organisations in the international system. Seeing that NI is
generally more optimistic about the role of international organisations
than are realists, I shall further distinguish among three modern variants
thereof, what I call:
• game theory of international institutions
• regime theory of international institutions
• peace theory of international institutions.
Classical liberalism, or the idealistic view of

international politics
In order to understand the origins of liberal thinking about international
politics, it is useful to become acquainted with two important thinkers:
Hugo Grotius, a seventeenth-century Dutch jurist, and Immanuel Kant, a
German philosopher from the eighteenth century.
Grotius was one of the first theorists of international law, emphasising
its potentially constraining effects on the behaviour of states. Among
other things, Grotius developed a normative system for determining just
30
causes of war (jus ad bellum) as well as just conduct in war (jus in bello).
This so-called just-war doctrine continues to influence the theory and
practice of international politics in the twenty-first century. More generally
speaking, the ‘Grotian tradition’ of liberal IR theory assumes that states,
like individuals, are ultimately ‘sociable’. By this is meant that (most) states
have a deeply rooted sense of obligation to creating and respecting rules
of international society. This sense of obligation, according to Grotian IR
scholars, stems from man’s nature as a rational and social creature. It gives
rise to a commitment to reciprocity in international dealings. Of similar
significance to the Grotian worldview is the belief, rooted in natural law
theory, that there exists one universal standard of morality against which
the behaviour of states could be measured.
Kant, too, believed that the behaviour of states was not inevitably subject
to the Hobbesian dynamic to which realists subscribe. According to Kant,
one of the principal thinkers of the Enlightenment, it was conceivable
that states, despite the anarchic environment of the international system,
could bring about a state of perpetual peace. The key ingredients, said
Kant, were ‘a republican constitution’, ‘conditions of universal hospitality’,
a ‘federation of free states’. Translated into today’s parlance, Kant believed
that democracy, economic interdependence and international organisations
were institutional requisites of what he called a ‘pacific union’.
What all liberals have in common is a belief that the distribution of power
in the international system (namely, the structure of this system) is far
less determinative of international outcomes than realists suggest. Unlike
realists, liberal theorists of IR have a more benign view of human nature
and also think that domestic politics sometimes matters. Most important
for our purposes, liberals of all persuasions think that international
institutions matter, whether they come in the form of international law
(think of Grotius) or in the form of international organisations (think
of Kant). Liberals believe that internationalism, on balance, is a force
for good. Consequently, as we shall see in subsequent chapters, classical
liberalism had a major influence on the practice of multilateralism in the
aftermath of the First World War as well as the Second World War. But let
us now turn from the origins of liberal international relations theory to its
contemporary manifestations.
Activity
In what ways are modern liberal theories of international politics influenced by the views
of Kant and Grotius?
From idealism to pluralism

In the 1970s, Robert Keohane and Joseph Nye (who would go on to coin
the term ‘soft power’) advanced on classical idealism by drawing attention
to sub-state actors, notably the importance of transnational actors. Their
argument was informed by the observation that modernisation in the
international system also increased the level of economic interdependence
among states. As a result, they argued that welfare, not security, was
becoming the most important goal of states. Keohane and Nye did not set
out to overturn realism, but to delineate the conditions under which the
state-centric paradigm is inadequate for explaining international outcomes.
Theirs was a move toward a pluralistic understanding of key processes
(such as globalisation) and actors in international politics. In addition to
states, multinational corporations, international organisations and non-
governmental organisations became the focus of liberal IR theory.
31
From pluralism to neo-liberal institutionalism

In the 1980s, this focus on explaining what Keohane and Nye termed
‘complex interdependence’ went hand in hand with a behavioural turn
in liberal IR theory. Henceforth, insights and methods from economics
entered the field. This scientific turn manifested itself, for example, in the
increased use of game-theoretical models for making sense of cooperation.
A key focus in this period was on the role of international institutions
in facilitating cooperation among states. It is for this reason that the
new variant that liberalism spawned came to be known as ‘neo-liberal
institutionalism’. Far from idealists, these late twentieth century liberals
were pragmatists.
Interestingly, the principal unit of analysis was once again the state. Neo-
liberals (not to be confused with neo-liberals in the economic realm), just
like neo-realists, believed that states were unitary and utility-maximising
actors. Where they differed from neo-realists was in their belief that the
barriers to international cooperation (which derived from the anarchic
nature of the international system) could be overcome. The most
serious impediment, said neo-liberals, was not anarchy as such, but the
uncertainty predicament that it created. On the neo-liberal institutionalist
argument, the more information states have about the true preferences
and intentions of other states, the more likely is international cooperation.
Who better to provide such information than international organisations?
Game theory of international institutions: Robert

Keohane
At the forefront of research on international institutions as providers of
critical information was Keohane. Although game theory is not used by
all neo-liberal institutionalists, the assumptions as well as non-technical
applications of the method are widespread in liberal scholarship on
international cooperation, then and now. In a path-breaking book, After
Hegemony, Keohane provided the first full-length treatment of the puzzle
of compliance. Among many other things, Keohane demonstrated that
states engaged in international bargaining worry about their reputations,
provided that they will be engaged in iterated (or repeated) interactions
with the same state(s). Game theory made it possible for neo-liberals to
see the exact conditions under which states have an incentive to forgo
short-term gains in order to reap long-term benefits. The major insight
coming out of this literature, which scores of scholars have since tested
and refined in innumerable settings, is that interdependence in the
international system often demands repeated bargaining, thus creating
incentives for states to use such strategies as ‘tit-for-tat’, linking issues
across different sets of negotiations, and shaming or otherwise punishing
defection from bilateral or multilateral agreements. For neo-liberals,
international institutions can help states discourage defection by providing
information and reassurance under otherwise uncertain conditions.
In recent years, the game-theoretical turn in the study of international
organisations has spawned what has become known as ‘principal–agent
models’ (e.g. Hawkins et al., 2006). Inspired by economic analyses
of domestic institutions such as commercial firms or government
bureaucracies, principal–agent theory is dedicated to explicating dynamic
relations between principals (namely, states) and agents (namely,
international organisations). A relatively new strand of scholarship,
32
principal–agent theories of international organisations have sought

to model the determinants of autonomy and independence in the
relationship between these international actors and their principals. The
overarching question is the following: To what extent are principals able to
monitor and steer the behaviour of their agents once they have delegated
sovereignty to them?
Regime theory of international institutions: Stephen

Krasner
It is important to point out that the rise of NI came via an intervening
development – the invention of the concept of ‘international regimes’.
Although one of the founding fathers of NI’s second variant, Stephen
Krasner was and remains a neo-realist, regime theory of international
institutions owes more to liberalism than it does to realism. Krasner (1983:
2) famously defined international regimes as ‘sets of implicit and explicit
principles, norms, rules, and decision-making procedures around which
actors’ expectations converge’. The significance of regime theory lies in
the fact that it draws attention to international arrangements that are less
institutionalised than international organisations yet have taken on similar
roles or performed similar functions.
Put differently, most international organisations (namely, formalised
international institutions replete with brick-and-mortar headquarters) are
embedded in larger international regimes. One might say, for example,
that the International Criminal Court as well as the UN International
Criminal Tribunals for the former Yugoslavia and for Rwanda are part
and parcel of the ‘international criminal law regime’, a very recent regime
to have emerged in international politics (and to be discussed below). In
keeping with Krasner’s definition, the international criminal law regime is
characterised by a series of principles (for example, international justice
demands the punishment of international crimes), norms (for example,
individual criminal responsibility), rules (for example, 1948 Genocide
Convention; the 1998 Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court),
and decision-making procedures (for example, international courts and
tribunals; Assembly of States Parties of the International Criminal Court).
Likewise, the ‘international trade regime’ comprises principles (for
example, free trade), norms (for example, trade liberalisation), rules (for
example, low tariff levels for manufactured goods through GATT) and
decision-making procedures (for example, World Trade Organisation).
By drawing attention to the existence and operation of a whole host
of informal institutional arrangements, regime theorists responded to
the neo-realist claim that all state behaviour could be explained with
reference to the distribution of power in the international system. They
also challenged, at least partially, the emerging neo-liberal institutionalist
claim that all state behaviour could be explained by reference to rational
calculations of self-interest. Although regime theorists did not deny the
central significance for international politics of either power or interest,
what emerged from the literature was a recognition that all kinds of
persistent and connected ways of doing things (principles, norms,
rules, decision-making procedures) mattered as well. Oran Young (see,
for example, 2002), who went on to become a leading theorist of the
international environmental regime, especially in the Arctic, argued
that behavioural regularities, when they are coinciding with convergent
expectations, generated social conventions with which states and other
33
actors in international politics occasionally comply out of habit rather

than in response to instrumental calculation. This insight suggested that
international institutions, under certain circumstances, may not only take
on a life of their own, but also, as a result, have independent effects on
international outcomes.
Regime theory was an important precursor, and impetus, for the heavily
game-theoretic approach to international institutions that flourished in the
wake of Keohane’s After Hegemony. Yet while the latter pushed primarily in
the direction of rationalism, the strand of regime theory pursued by Young
and others carried within it, as we shall see, the seeds for the construcivist
approach to international politics (see Chapter 5 of this subject guide).
Activity
Based on your reading on the debate about ‘international regimes’, explain why the
concept of the international regime is so influential. Why did some scholars resist the
theoretical innovation?
Peace theory of international institutions: Bruce Russett

Drawing on one of the first liberal statements about international politics,
Kant’s aforementioned treatise On Perpetual Peace (1795), Bruce Russett
has been one of the foremost analysts and proponents of the most
recent liberal contribution to understanding international politics, and
international organisations within it. Russett set out to inquire into the
effects of three Kantian influences on international peace and security:
• democracy
• international trade
• international organisations.
Based on numerous statistical and qualitative analyses, he found that there
was indeed such a thing as a ‘democratic peace’ (what Kant had termed
‘pacific peace’). He confirmed the first Kantian influence by showing that
democracies will be reluctant to wage war against one another. He also
confirmed that international trade created incentives for economically
interdependent states to avert war. Finally, and most relevant for our
purposes, Russett and his co-authors demonstrate that membership in
international organisations, too, contributed to international peace and
security.
More specifically, Jon Pevehouse and Russett (2006) showed that particular
types of international organisations, namely those with a ‘densely
democratic’ membership, engendered peaceful relations among their
members. (The pacific effect was less significant in more heterogeneous
international organisations.) The authors highlighted three contributions
in particular that the international organisations in their sample made.
First, Pevehouse and Russett argued that they helped states enter into,
and sustain, credible commitments. By monitoring commitments among
states, international organisations can reduce the credibility gap that
sometimes exists when states are bargaining over a substantive financial
or trade agreement. They may also enhance the credibility of international
agreements in instances of government turnover. Because an agreement
is underwritten by a densely democratic international organisation, a new
president, prime minister or government may be more inclined to continue
to uphold the agreement than he or she otherwise would.
Second, Pevehouse and Russett contended that international
organisations, provided they are sufficiently democratic, contribute to
34
dispute settlement. Because they favour mediation and other forms of

peaceful conflict resolution, organisations such as the Organisation of
American States or NATO or the EU have an advantage as well as added
credibility as third parties when two states are on the brink of conflict
or worse. Third, according to Pevehouse and Russett, what they call
‘socialisation’ is an important process that the international organisations
in their study have fostered. By influencing, directly and indirectly, what
counts as acceptable behaviour in a given domain of international politics,
formal international institutions spread norms and contribute to identity
formation. This in turn leads to trust-building among their members. The
result, if we believe Pevehouse and Russett, is an ever-stronger bond,
both normative and institutional, that discourages the use of force by
states who share membership in a densely democratic organisation. The
two authors (2006: 994) found such international organisations not only
helped to lower the risk that militarised international disputes (MIDs) of
any sort would arise; they also reduced the risk of non-militarised disputes
turning into MIDs.
Conclusion
This chapter has provided an overview of leading liberal perspectives on
international organisations. In addition to tracing the evolution of liberal
thought from classical liberalism to neo-liberal institutionalism, it has
highlighted the distinct contributions of three varieties of the latter.

• describe the key tenets of classical liberalism and neo-liberal
institutionalism
• explain the sources of liberalism’s faith in the power of international
organisations
• describe the evolution of liberal thinking about international

1. What are international regimes?
2. Are international institutions intervening or independent variables?
3. How relevant is the liberal paradigm for making sense of international
organisations?
35
Notes
36
Chapter 4: Constructivism

organisations from a constructivist perspective. It explores the nature
of constructivism in all its guises and explains why constructivists are
optimistic about the significance of international organisations.
• describe what set constructivism apart from realism, liberalism and
functionalism
• explain the sources of constructivism’s faith in the power of
• outline the evolution of constructivist thinking about international
Essential reading
Johnston, Alastair Iain ‘Treating International Institutions as Social
Environments’, International Studies Quarterly, 45(4) (December 2001),
pp.487–515.
Finnemore, Martha ‘International Organizations as Teachers of Norms: The
United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization and Science
Policy’, International Organization, 47(4) (Autumn 1993), pp.565–97.
Further reading
Adler, Emmanuel and Michael N. Barnett (eds) Security Communities.
Archer, C. International Organizations. (London: Routledge, 2001) third
edition.
Ashley, Richard K. ‘The Poverty of Neorealism’, International Organization,
38(2) (Spring 1984), pp.225–86.
Barnett, Michael Eyewitness to a Genocide: The United Nations and Rwanda.
(Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2003).
Barnett, Michael and Martha Finnemore Rules for the World: International
Organizations in Global Politics. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2004).
Bearce, David H. and Stacy Bondanella ‘Intergovernmental Organizations,
Socialization, and Member-State Interest Convergence’, International
Organization, 61(4) (Autumn 2007), pp.703–33.
Blyth, Mark ‘Powering, Puzzling, or Persuading? The Mechanisms of Building
Institutional Orders’, International Studies Quarterly, 51(4) (December
2007), pp.761–77.
Checkel, Jeffrey T. ‘The Constructivist Turn in International Relations Theory’,
World Politics, 50(2) (January 1998), pp.324–48.
Checkel, Jeffrey T. ‘Why Comply? Social Learning and European Identity
Change’, International Organization, 55(3) (Summer 2001), pp.553–88.
Checkel, Jeffrey T. ‘International Institutions and Socialization in Europe:
Introduction and Framework’, International Organization, 59(4) (Autumn
2005), pp.801–26.
Cox, Robert W. with Timothy J. Sinclair Approaches to World Order.
37
Edkins, J. and N. Vaughan-Williams Critical Theorists and International

Relations. (Oxford: Routledge, 2009).
Finnemore, Martha and Kathryn Sikkink ‘International Norm Dynamics and
Political Change’, International Organization, 52(4) (October 1998),
pp.887–917.
Goodman, Ryan and Derek Jinks ‘How to Influence States: Socialization and
International Human Rights Law’, Duke Law Journal, 54(3) (December
2004), pp.621–703.
Haas, Peter M. ‘Introduction: Epistemic Communities and International
Policy Coordination’, International Organization, 46(1) (December 1992),
pp.1–35.
Hopf, Ted ‘The Promise of Constructivism in International Relations Theory’,
International Security, 23(1) (Summer 1998), pp.171–200.
Johnston, Alastair Iain Social States: China in International Institutions, 1980–
2000. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2007), pp.197–213.
Karns, M.P. and Karen A. Mingst International Organizations (Boulder, Colo.;
London: Lyme Rienner, 2010).
Katzenstein, Peter J. (ed.) The Culture of National Security: Norms and Identity
in World Politics. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1996).
Kelley, Judith ‘International Actors on the Domestic Scene: Membership
Conditionality and Socialization by International Institutions’, International
Organization, 58(3) (July 2004), pp.425–57.
(Autumn 1986), pp.753–75.
Murphy, Craig N. The United Nations Development Programme: A Better Way?
Murphy, Craig N. International Organisation and Industrial Change: Global
Governance since 1850. (Cambridge: Polity, 1994).
Rengger, N. and R. Thirkwell-White ‘Still Critical After all These Years? The
Past, Present and Future of Critical Theory in International Relations’,
Review of International Studies, 33(2007), pp.3–24.
Risse, Thomas ‘“Let’s Argue!”: Communicative Action in World Politics’,
International Organization, 54(1) (January 2000), pp.1–39.
Ruggie, John Gerard Constructing the World Polity: Essays on International
Institutionalisation. (London: Routledge, 1998).
Smith, Steve, Ken Booth and Marysia Zalewski (eds) International Theory:
Positivism and Beyond. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996).
Sterling-Folker, Jennifer ‘Competing Paradigms or Birds of a Feather?
Constructivism and Neoliberal Institutionalism Compared’, International
Studies Quarterly, 44(1) (March 2000), pp.97–119.
Wendt, Alexander ‘Driving with the Rearview Mirror: On the Rational Science
of Institutional Design’, International Organization, 55(04) (November
2001), pp.1019–49.
Wendt, Alexander ‘Anarchy is What States Make of it: The Social Construction
of Power Politics’, International Organization 46(2) (Spring 1992),
pp.391–425.
Introduction
Like all of the other perspectives on international politics discussed thus
far, constructivism, too, comes in a variety of guises. What all of them
have in common is the belief that international politics is not just driven
by calculations of means and ends, but also by considerations of norms
and values – and more often than IR theory has traditionally allowed.
Constructivists argue that neo-realists and neoliberal institutionalists
ignore at their peril the social sources of state power on the one hand, and
of state interests, on the other. Against the materialism and rationalism
38
that underpin the scientific versions of realism and liberalism respectively,

constructivists maintain that state preferences are endogenous to states’
interactions with structures such as the international system. On this view
of the international world, agents (for example, states) and structures (for
example, the international system) are mutually constitutive. This
assumption has profound implications for the way in which constructivists
theorise about international institutions, notably international organisations.
In the following sections, I explain these implications in two steps. I
first trace the road from rationalism to cognitivism that led to the rise of
constructivism in IR theory more generally. I then illustrate the constructivist
approach to international organisations through the lens of leading
scholarship, notably that of Michael Barnett and Martha Finnemore.
From rationalism to cognitivism

Constructivist theorising about international politics rests on two critical
assumptions, namely that:
• States are influenced in their actions by material as well as social factors.
• Preferences of states are not given but can be ‘constituted’ by the social
contexts in which they operate.
Whereas both neo-realism and neo-liberalism are wedded to methodological
individualism, namely, the view that all phenomena of international politics
can be explained with sole reference to the goals and actions of states,
constructivism rejects this agent-centred ontology. Constructivists are
adamant about not wanting to reduce one unit of analysis (namely, the
structure of the international system) to another (i.e. states). Instead, they
insist, as already mentioned, that agents and structures of international
politics are mutually constitutive. It is for this reason that scholars such as
Alexander Wendt (1992) have famously claimed that ‘anarchy is what states
make of it’.
This challenge to neo-realism and neo-liberalism was marked by what
one might call a transition from rationalism to cognitivism. By this I
mean that constructivists place less faith in the supremacy of unexamined
reason, and the importance of instrumental action. Rather they question
the preoccupation of IR theory with utility maximisation. By focusing on
ideational structures (think norms, rules, identities), constructivists have
tried to open the ‘black box’ of reason. They have been keen to understand
where the preferences of states and non-state actors for, say, utility
maximisation, come from in the first place. It is in this sense that they
have taken seriously the cognitive processes in arguing, bargaining and
related modes of interaction (and the intersubjective meanings to which
they give rise) that often ensnare agents of international politics. They have
shown, for example, that discourses about international politics can act as
structures that constrain or enable states just as material structures do.
Whereas rationalists are concerned with explanation, most constructivists
seek to understand (see Chapter 1 of this subject guide) the behaviour of
states by interpreting their actions and omissions in the context of these
agents’ intersubjective meanings, namely, in the context of their ways of
doing things and views of the world. (One could argue, however, that a
considerable number of leading constructivists do seek to also explain
social phenomena, that is, they have, often to the chagrin of other critical
theorists, not entirely forsworn the epistemological assumptions that
drive positivist social scientific inquiry.) The underlying assumption is that
states do not always act in response to what rationalists call a logic of
39
consequences (a means−ends rationale), but often ground their behaviour

in a logic of appropriateness. On this assumption, for example, states (and
other actors) will regularly pursue not what is in line with their interest
but what is in line with their identity. Expressive action of this sort, say
constructivists, often trumps instrumental action.
Activity
Do you agree with Wendt that ‘anarchy is what states make of it’? Can you think of
realist and liberal counterarguments to this claim?
Social theory of international institutions: Michael

Barnett and Martha Finnemore
The constructivist approach to international organisations represents
a major departure from neo-realism and neo-liberal institutionalism,
although it shares, as previously mentioned, some assumptions about the
significance of social learning with certain variants of neo-functionalism.
More specifically, constructivists reject the neo-realist view of international
organisations as being epiphenomenal, that is, as having no independent
power and merely reflecting the distribution of power in the international.
They also disagree with the neo-liberal institutionalist argument
according to which international organisations are not much more than
empty vessels that help states reduce transaction costs in international
cooperation. Rather, constructivists take international organisations
seriously as both actors and bureaucracies. As Jeffrey Checkel (1998: 331)
puts it: ‘They are purposive entities that are able, in some cases, to trump
states and their power.’ Most important for advancing this view have been
Michael Barnett and Martha Finnemore (2004). In a series of publications,
they have examined critically the purpose, power, and pathologies of
diverse international organisations, with particular reference to the UN
system.
Drawing on insights from sociology in particular, Barnett and Finnemore
have studied international organisations as both dependent and
independent variables, namely, as things to be explained as well as
things that do the explaining. In several case studies they have shown,
contrary to what neo-realists and neo-liberals would lead us to expect,
that international organisations regularly pursue policies not demanded
by state members. Furthermore, if we believe Barnett and Finnemore,
even in instances where the preferences of states correlate neatly with the
policies pursued by international organisations, these policies have very
different origins. Put more simply, we are led to believe that international
organisations are not merely tools that states pick up at their will and use
however they please, but actors of international politics in their own right.
Take two examples. In a careful, early analysis of how exactly international
organisations can pull along recalcitrant states, Finnemore (1993) focuses
on UNESCO, the rarely studied United Nations Education, Scientific and
Cultural Organisation. Her concern is with the question of why, when and
how states decided to establish domestic bureaucratic structures devoted
to furthering science policy. Empirically speaking, it turns out that states
for a long time had no interest whatsoever in funnelling resources into
such bureaucracies. Through process-tracing, Finnemore shows that,
in contradiction to what neo-realism and neo-liberalism would have us
believe, the vast majority of science policy organisations in individual
countries, saw the light only after UNESCO (alongside the Organisation
for Economic Cooperation and Development, or OECD) had begun
40
to actively promote, in the 1950s, setting up science programmes. By

inventing this new norm, by diffusing it, and by sharing with states the
requisite knowledge about how to go about implementing it, UNESCO,
on Finnemore’s argument, very much behaved as an independent actor in
international politics. In the period 1955–1975, UNESCO, rather than only
reflecting the interest of states, contributed to constituting them.
In a book examining the performance of the UN Secretariat during the
1994 genocide in Rwanda, Barnett (2003) deepened the sociological
approach to international organisations that Finnemore had pioneered in
her case study of UNESCO. By delving deep into the UN bureaucracy, as a
participant observer on sabbatical from his professorship at the University
of Wisconsin-Madison, Barnett cut through many of the emotional and
perfunctory accounts of UN inaction in times of mass atrocities. Instead, he
took seriously the social lives of the embattled international organisation
on the East River. As a result, he painted a more nuanced picture of why
the UN failed to adequately respond to the genocide in the landlocked
country that came to claim nearly one million lives, mostly those of the
country’s Tutsi population. By enumerating the pathologies that can
result when individuals are steeped too deeply in a given organisational
culture (including its norms, rules and identities) such as that of the
UN Secretariat and UN headquarters, Barnett offers a revisionist,
counterintuitive account of why the UN stayed clear of a military
intervention and thus failed Rwanda in 1994. Barnett writes (2003:
128) ‘To let the killings be at this moment was not a sign of their shallow
commitment to the international community. Instead, it was evidence
of it.’ According to Barnett, a general belief in the importance (and
appropriateness) of safeguarding the emerging norm of ‘humanitarian
intervention’, which the recent UN and US intervention in Somalia had
cast into serious doubt, caused the humanitarians at the UN to be more
risk-averse than they might otherwise have been. More specifically, the
UN Secretariat, insists Barnett (2003: 122), did not just enact what the
members of the UN Security Council had decided, but ‘had its own reasons
to oppose intervention’.
Micro-processes of socialisation: Alastair Ian Johnston

Notwithstanding these recently discussed contributions, it is important
to recall that, for the first two decades of its existence, the constructivist
approach to international organisations was very much underdeveloped.
Most critically, it lacked the necessary micro-foundations for understanding
and explaining the ways in which international organisations sometimes
developed into, and acted as, independent actors of international politics.
It was one thing to assert that norms, values and identities played a role
in the making or working of international organisations; it was quite
another to make sense theoretically of how exactly this transpired. In
the last few years, largely due to constructivist scholars such as Alastair
Iain Johnston (2001, 2007) and the aforementioned Checkel (2001,
2005), constructivism has made major advances in explaining the causal
mechanisms and processes by which states are affected as members of
Building on the early work of Finnemore, among others, Johnston (2001),
for one, has elaborated the dynamics of ‘socialisation’, which refers to the
process(es) by which actors (be they individual or collective in nature)
become inculcated with the norms and behavioural roles of a given
institution or setting. In an effort to better understand what goes on in
41
socialisation processes, Johnston distinguishes among two different micro-

processes: persuasion and social influence.
In order to bring constructivism from the macro-level to the micro-level,
he argues that the approach’s empirical research programme would be
better served if it eschewed some of its philosophical antecedents and
instead incorporated insights from communications theory and social
psychology.
On the foundation of such insights, he proposes that social norms or
values are internalised by way of persuasion if and when actors change
their minds, opinions or attitudes ‘in the absence of overtly material or
mental coercion’ (Johnston 2001: 496). This might happen in response to
reflection; in response to an actor’s affect relationship with a persuader;
or in response to the specific traits of the actor to be persuaded. By
contrast, social influence leads to norm-guided behaviour on account of
the distribution of social rewards and punishment. Johnston (2001: 500)
submits that the most important mechanism of social influence is ‘the
desire to maximize status, honor, prestige… and the desire to avoid a loss
of status, shaming, or humiliation’.
According to Johnston, it is important to appreciate that international
organisations (and international institutions more generally) are what
he calls ‘social environments’ in which socialisation transpires. They are
not the only social environments that matter for international politics,
but they are among the least understood. But, and this is where Johnston
and colleagues have advanced the constructivist study of international
organisations most meaningfully, treating international organisations as
environments requires an awareness that different institutional designs
create different environments, which, in turn, lead ‘to differences in the
likelihood and degree of persuasion and social influence (Johnston, 2001:
509). It is this deceptively simple insight that has seized the most recent
crop of constructivist scholarship.
It is important to point out, however, that the constructivist positions
showcased here are not representative of constructivism in all of its
guises. Indeed, representatives of so-called critical IR theory might argue
that Barnett and Finnemore and Johnston, while influential, represent
only ‘mainstream’ constructivist assumptions about how international
organisations matter in the international system. This is not untrue.
Barnett and Finnemore and Johnston are keen to maintain cordial
relations with representatives of other theoretical perspectives. Their
ambition is to improve IR theory as a whole, and to do so from within.
This has meant, among other things, adopting much of the existing
language of social scientific inquiry with its positivist connotations.
Marxist, postmodern, and most feminist scholars of international
organisations reject this language.
A general, retrospective overview of ‘critical’ IR theory can be found in
Rengger and Thirkell-White (2007). Also helpful is Edkins and Vaughan-
Williams (2009). Robert Cox (1996) and Craig Murphy (1994, 2006)
have long been at the forefront of the critical study of international
organisations. A brief account of these and related perspectives can be
found in Archer (2001: 151–73); a very brief account in Karns and Mingst
(2010: 52−55).
Activity
List and briefly outline the main approaches in ‘critical’ IR theory, including Marxist,
postmodern and feminist.
42
Conclusion
This chapter has provided an overview of leading constructivist
perspectives on international organisations. In addition to explaining key
tenets of constructivist thought, it has highlighted the distinct view of
international organisations that has emanated from this body of thought.

• describe what set constructivism apart from realism, liberalism and
functionalism
• explain the sources of constructivism’s faith in the power of
• outline the evolution of constructivist thinking about international

1. What is socialisation?
2. Are international organisations what states make of them?
3. How relevant is the constructivist paradigm for making sense of
international organisations?
43
Notes
44
Part II: The history of international organisations
Part II: The history of international

organisations
45
Notes
46
Chapter 5: A history of international organisations
Chapter 5: A history of international

organisations

This is a transitional chapter. It paints, in broad strokes, some of the
historical background necessary for comprehending why international
organisations came to be so numerous in the international system, and
when. It provides a bridge between the preceding theoretical chapters and
the empirical chapters to come. The aim of this chapter is to give a brief
account of where international organisations came from, and how they
have fared since.
• outline the nineteenth century origins of international organisations
• describe the key innovations involved in the creation and work of the
League of Nations and the International Labour Organization
• outline and give examples of the main types of international
organisations created since the Second World War.
Essential reading
Reinelda, Bob Routledge History of International Organizations: From 1815 to
the Present Day. (London: Routledge, 2009), pp.5–135.
Further reading
Beeson, Mark Institutions of the Asia Pacific: ASEAN, APEC and Beyond.
(London: Routledge, 2008).
Dinan, Desmond (ed.) Origins and Evolution of the European Union. (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2006).
Eichengreen, Barry Globalizing Capital: A History of the International Monetary
System. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2008) second edition.
Forsythe, David P. The Humanitarians: The International Committee of the Red
Cross. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005).
Haftendorn, Helga, Robert O. Keohane and Celeste Wallander (eds) Imperfect
Unions: Security Institutions Over Time and Space. (Oxford: Oxford
Kennedy, Paul The Parliament of Man: The United Nations and the Quest for
World Government. (London: Allen Lane, 2006).
Kim, Soo Yoon Power and the Governance of Global Trade: From the Gatt to the
WTO. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2010).
Myths, and Models. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007).
Mazower, Mark No Enchanted Palace: The End of Empire and the Ideological
Origins of the United Nations. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press,
2009).
Mazzeo, Domenico (ed.) African Regional Organizations. (Cambridge:
Northedge, Fred The League of Nations. (Leicester: Leicester University Press,
1986).
Scheffer, David All the Missing Souls: A Personal History of the War Crimes
Tribunals. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2011).
47
Thies, Wallace J. Why NATO Endures. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,

2009).
Trachtenberg, Marc A Constructed Peace: The Making of the European Settlement,
1945–1963. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1999).
Weindling, Paul International Health Organisations and Movements, 1918–1939.
Ngaire Woods, The Globalizers: The IMF, the World Bank, and Their Borrowers.
Introduction
Although this chapter’s focus is primarily on the nineteenth century,
it charts the development of international organisations as actors in
international politics from the 1815 Congress of Vienna to the present. To
this end, I distinguish three distinct historical phases in their evolution.
• The origins of international organisations, 1815–1914.
• The rise of international organisations, 1919–1945.
• The proliferation of international organisations, 1945–present.
By so doing, we gain an appreciation of the different forms and functions
of these unique actors in international politics.
The origins of international organisations, 1815–1914

The modern international system came into being in 1648 when, by way
of the Treaty of Westphalia, the then dominant powers both ended the
Thirty Years’ War (1618–1648) that had raged within the Holy Roman
Empire, and the Eighty Years’ War (1568–1648) between Spain and the
Dutch Republic. It was the first modern diplomatic congress, an instance
of multilateralism. The Holy Roman Empire, the Habsburg monarchy,
Spain, France, Sweden, the Dutch Republic, the princes of the Holy
Roman Empire and heads of Europe’s cities came together and resolved to
create an order based on sovereign statehood. The 1713 Peace Treaty of
Utrecht and, more important, the 1815 Treaty of Vienna confirmed these
‘Westphalian principles’.
The Congress of Vienna was required because Napoleon had upset the
equilibrium of 1648, when he conquered swathes of Europe and, among
other things, invaded Russia in 1812. Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo in
1815 necessitated a re-equilibration of Europe’s balance of power: the
Vienna Conference was the tool to deal with the systemic fallout of the
Napoleonic Wars. At Vienna, the four victorious powers (Austria, Prussia,
Russia, and Great Britain) resolved to reinstate and deepen the previous
structure of the European system (also in response to the upheaval caused
by the French Revolution) which was characterised by the absence of a
hegemon, or superpower. The Congress of Vienna begot the so-called
‘Concert of Europe’, and also introduced the distinction between ‘great
powers’ and ‘small powers’. It is on account of its multilateral emphasis
that the Concert of Europe, which served its intended purpose rather well
until the outbreak of the First World War, must be seen as an important
precursor to the development of international organisations as we
understand them now.
Another precursor was the 1834 custom and tariff union among European
states and statelets, the so-called Zollverein. Comprising 17 member
states, the institution allowed for easier trade across borders. Although it
never grew into a full-scale organisation, as an institutional framework
it demonstrated the benefits of partial economic integration (compare
48
EU, NAFTA, MERCOSUR, etc.). The background of the customs union

laid in the fact that the Congress of Vienna had not paid attention to the
economic dimensions of multilateralism. At the time, there existed nearly
two thousand custom barriers in the region, generating what, as we have
seen, neo-liberal institutionalists call transaction costs to a spectacular
degree. Not unlike the EU today, the Zollverein sought to end economic
independence and encourage more standardised trade across borders.
Comparable to the EU once more, the proto-international organisation
pushed for freer trade among its members, but remained protectionist vis-
à-vis non-members.
Also antecedent to international organisations, properly understood,
were the 1899 and 1907 Peace Conferences in The Hague. Called by
Russian Tsar Nicholas II, the 1899 conference was dedicated to issues of
world peace and disarmament. Despite reluctance among some powers,
it effectively led to the creation of the Permanent Court of Arbitration
in 1900, which Great Britain in particular was promoting. The first
conference also adopted the so-called Convention on the Pacific Settlement
of Disputes, which the 1907 conference amended. What you have is a
creeping process of institutionalisation that was, among other things, at
the heart of what we today refer to as international humanitarian law,
namely those international legal instruments that regulate the way states
and other actors wage war, international or otherwise.
The period 1815–1907 in many respects marks the origins of international
organisations. A number of different developments – international security
threats, industrial growth and economic expansion, the emergence of
non-governmental peace organisations – fuelled the turn to a greater
institutionalisation of international cooperation in this period.
Activity
List and briefly explain the significance of key events in the development of international
organisations in the period prior to the First World War.
The rise of international organisations, 1918–1945

The outbreak of the First World War in 1914 temporarily stalled the
development of international organisations. Yet even in the midst of war
a number of European intellectuals were engaged in drafting proposals
for an international peace organisation. On the American side, such
thinking was under way. Most important of these efforts was that of
Woodrow Wilson, then the US president. In 1918, Wilson advocated in a
speech to the US Congress for a new, ‘open diplomacy’ that would reduce
the likelihood of international conflict. He laid this policy famously in
‘Fourteen Points’, which concerned such diverse matters as the ‘absolute
freedom of navigation upon the seas’ (Point II), ‘open-minded, and
absolutely impartial adjustment of all colonial claims’ (Point V), the
restoration of war-ravaged Belgium (Point VII), and the creation of ‘a
general association of nations… for the purpose of affording mutual
guarantees of political independence and territorial integrity’ (Point IV).
Yet reaching consensus on a post-war international order was not
as straightforward as it had been in 1815. After long and drawn-out
negotiations among the victorious and great powers at various peace
conferences, two new international organisations emerged. The Treaty
of Versailles, agreed in 1919, provided for the establishment of a League
of Nations and contained, in Part I of the peace treaty, the Covenant
of this truly innovative (albeit ultimately powerless) international
49
organisation (see Chapter 7 of this subject guide). It was charged with

promoting collective security (as opposed to balance-of-power politics),
disarmament, the international dispute resolution short of war. As we shall
see, it was a laudable idea whose time had not yet come. One enduring
success story having to do with the League of Nations, however, was the
creation of the International Labour Organisation (ILO). Then and now,
the ILO is the global body responsible for drawing up and overseeing
international labour standards. The impetus for what became the ILO
emerged in the negotiations due to the lobbying, already during the war,
of various trade union organisations as well as the Socialist International.
Interestingly, even though the United States Senate famously refused
to ratify the Covenant of the League of Nations, and thus never joined
that international organisation, the US did end up joining the ILO, in
1934. This being the case, the ILO was one of the first truly international
organisations.
The period 1918−1945 therefore marks the rise of international
organisations, that is, international institutions with more formalised
structures as well as secretariats and other decision-making procedures.
Although none of the aforementioned or other organisations was very
powerful yet, and sometimes very weak indeed, their arrival on the
international scene heralded a new era of international politics.
Activity
List and make brief notes on the key events in international politics in the so-called
interwar period between the First and the Second World War.
The proliferation of international organisations,

1945–present
After the end of the Second World War, the number of international
organisations began to increase dramatically. If any event ever
demonstrated the benefits of and need for increased multilateralism, the
global conflagration, which brought large-scale death and destruction to
countries the world over, is it. In its aftermath, international cooperation
was at a premium. Three of the most important international organisations
ever to have been created had their origins in the immediate post-war
period: the UN, the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund
(IMF). Many others followed in the decades thereafter. But another trend
started in the context of reconstruction and development – the creation
of regional organisations. From the European Communities to ASEAN
(Association of Southeast Asian Nations) and from the Organisation of
African Unity to MERCOSUR, regional institutional arrangements began to
see the light of day in all corners of the world.
International organisations, universal or regional in nature, began
to crop up in all areas of international politics. In the security realm,
NATO, the Warsaw Pact, SEATO and the CSCE (now OSCE) were created
in the interest of coordinating practices aimed at preventive action.
Increased interdependence in terms of transportation, communication
and regulation also spawned a whole host international organisations,
ranging from the International Civil Aviation Organisation (1944) to the
International Telecommunication Union (1945), and from the World
Intellectual Property Organisation (1967) to the International Maritime
Organisation (1982). The increased globalisation of economic relations
in terms of money, finance and trade was another engine of ever greater
multilateralism. Aside from the World Bank (1944) and IMF (1944), of
50
which more in Chapter 8 of this subject guide, and GATT (1947) and the
WTO (1995), which are to be discussed in Chapter 9, various additional
arrangements came into being. In the Americas, NAFTA (1993) sought to
ensure free trade. In Africa, the SADDC (1980) (now SADC) and ECOWAS
(1975) were invented to foster regional development and economic
growth. In Asia, it was hoped that ASEAN (1961) would underwrite
nation-building and bring economic development. And in Europe, the EC
(1957) and EU (1992) launched an unprecedented project of continental
integration in the social, political and economic spheres. This proliferation
sets the later twentieth century very much apart from the preceding
history of international organisations.
Activity
Draw up a table listing major developments in international history during both the
Cold War and the post-Cold War periods. Include events in both the developed and the
developing world. Make brief notes on why each event was important.
Conclusion
This chapter has sketched the history of international organisations
from their origins in the early nineteenth century to the present. It
has highlighted the unique dynamics of their development as actors in
international politics during three historical phases. By so doing, the
chapter has painted the empirical background against which the following
chapters will explain and discuss the work of some of these international
organisations in more detail.

• outline the nineteenth century origins of international organisations
• describe the key innovations involved in the creation and work of the
League of Nations and the International Labour Organization
• outline and give examples of the main types of international
organisations created since the Second World War.

1. How important was the Industrial Revolution for the creation of
2. Was the League of Nations a failure?
3. Are regional organisations more effective than international
organisations?
51
Notes
52
Part III: The practice of international organisations
Part III: The practice of international

organisations
53
Notes
54
Chapter 6: The League of Nations (1919) and the UN (1945)
Chapter 6: The League of Nations (1919)

and the UN (1945)

This chapter introduces you to the theory, history and practice of the
League of Nations and the United Nations. In addition to acquainting
you with basic facts about the evolution and operation of each of these
international organisations, the chapter brings theoretical insights from
the previous chapters to bear on the empirical material. By so doing, it
illustrates the utility of using theory to interrogate history, and of using
history to interrogate theory.
• describe similarities and differences between the League of Nations and
the UN
• explain these differences by deploying both theoretical and empirical
knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of the League of Nations and the UN
as actors in international politics.
Essential reading
Fleury, Antoine ‘The League of Nations: Toward a New Appreciation of its
History’, in Manfred F. Boemeke, Gerald D. Feldman and Elisabeth Glaser
(eds) The Treaty of Versailles: A Reassessment after 75 Years. (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2006), pp.507–22.
Hurd, Ian After Anarchy: Legitimacy and Power in the United Nations Security
Council. (Princeton, N.J: Princeton University Press, 2008), pp.83–136.
Thompson, Alexander ‘Coercion through IOs: The Security Council and the
Logic of Information Transmission’, International Organization, 60(1)
(Winter 2006), pp.1–34.
Article 10 of the Covenant of the United Nations (1919); http://en.wikisource.
org/wiki/Covenant_of_the_League_of_Nations.
(last accessed 21 May 2012).
Further reading
Alvarez, José E. ‘Judging the Security Council’, American Journal of
International Law, 90(1) (January 1996), pp.1–39.
Bosco, David L. Five to Rule Them All: The UN Security Council and the Making
of the Modern World. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009).
Chesterman, Simon, Thomas M. Franck and David M. Malone (eds) Law and
Practice of the United Nations: Documents and Commentary. (Oxford: Oxford
Cronin, Bruce and Ian Hurd (eds) The UN Security Council and the Politics of
International Authority. (London: Routledge, 2008).
Gosovic, Branislav and John G. Ruggie ‘On the Creation of a New International
Economic Order: Issue Linkage and the Seventh Special Session of the
UN General Assembly’, International Organization, 30(2) (Spring 1976),
pp.309–45.
Hurd, Ian ‘The Strategic Use of Liberal Internationalism: Libya and the UN
Sanctions, 1992–2003’, International Organization, 59(3) (Summer 2005),
pp.495−526.
55
Jolly, Richard, Louis Emmerij and Thomas G. Weiss UN Ideas That Changed the
World. (Indiana: Indiana University Press, 2009).
World Government. (London: Penguin, 2007).
Kuziemko, Ilyana and Eric Werker ‘How Much Is a Seat on the Security Council
Worth? Foreign Aid and Bribery at the United Nations’, Journal of Political
Economy, 114(5) (October 2006), pp.905–30.
Loescher, Gil The UNHCR and World Politics: A Perilous Path. (Oxford: Oxford
Lowe, Vaughan, Adam Roberts, Jennifer Welsh and Dominik Zaum (eds) The
United Nations Security Council and War: The Evolution of Thought and
Practice since 1945. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010).
Origins of the United Nations. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press,
2009).
Orakhelashvili, Alexander Collective Security. (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2011).
Rasche, Andreas and Georg Kell (eds) The United Nations Global Compact:
Achievements, Trends and Challenges. (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2010).
Roberts, Adan and Benedict Kingsbury (eds) United Nations, Divided World:
The UN’s Roles in International Relations. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993)
second edition.
Smuts, J. The League of Nations: A Practical Suggestion. (1918)
Thakur, Ramesh The United Nations, Peace and Security: From Collective Security
to the Responsibility to Protect. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2006).
Thompson, Alexander Channels of Power: The UN Security Council and US
Statecraft in Iraq. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2010).
Voeten, Eric ‘Clashes in the Assembly’, International Organization, 54(2)
(Spring 2002), pp.185–215.
Weiss, Thomas G. What’s Wrong With the United Nations (And How to Fix It).
(Cambridge: Polity, 2012).
Weiss, Thomas G. and Sam Daws (eds) The Oxford Handbook on the United
Nations. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008).
Introduction
This chapter, like all subsequent empirical chapters, traces the institutional
origins, effects and futures of a paired set of international organisations.
In this case, we compare and contrast the institutional development of
the League of Nations and the United Nations. In addition to outlining
their basic organisational frameworks, we inquire into the power, politics
and pathologies of each organisation. We demonstrate important (and
often overlooked) institutional continuities between each experiment in
internationalism. We begin by considering the institutional origins of the
League of Nations and the UN respectively. We conclude a brief overview
of the UN’s organisational structure. The heart of this chapter is the section
elaborating institutional effects.
Institutional origins of the League of Nations

Originally comprised of 45 member states, the League of Nations
was conceived at the Paris Peace Conference in 1918−1919. It was
established as the first permanent international organisation dedicated
to the furtherance of cooperation among states, and to the creation
56
and maintenance of international peace and security. The Covenant

of the League of Nations was the brainchild of the great powers, the
ultimate design an amalgam of contending conceptions held by, most
important, the United Kingdom, France and the United States. The turn
to a potentially new form of multilateralism followed on the heels of the
massive social, economic and political dislocations that the First World
War had caused in Europe. The increasingly rigid alliance system of the
late nineteenth and early twentieth century, which had played a major role
in precipitating the continental war, in particular gave politicians pause.
After incurring more than twenty million casualties, most of the countries
affected by the ‘Great War’ were keen to hold in check the dynamics that
had given rise to arms races across all of Europe. One imagined remedy
was the creation of an international architecture that would make it easier
for the governments of states to settle their disputes peacefully, and which
would also bring collective pressure to desist on those governments who
nevertheless tempted to unleash the proverbial ‘dogs of war’.
As discussed in the previous chapter, the idea for an international
organisation to uproot war goes back to US President Woodrow Wilson,
who, in his famous ‘Fourteen Points’ speech delivered to the US Congress
on 8 January 1918, had called for ‘a general association of nations… for
the purpose of affording mutual guarantees of political independence
and territorial integrity’. Apparently, Wilson’s sketch for a post-war
dispensation was strongly influenced by Jan Smuts, who became prime
minister of South Africa in 1919. A year earlier, Smuts had authored The
League of Nations: A Practical Suggestion, a pamphlet of multilateral policy
prescriptions. Another background influence was the Inter-Parliamentary
Union (IPU), founded in 1889. As the first permanent forum for
multilateralism, the IPU’s institutional design left a mark on the League of
Nations. This design was negotiated and adopted at the 1919 Paris Peace
Conference, where it was signed as the first part of the Treaty of Versailles
by the representatives of 44 states.
Yet the making of the League of Nations was very controversial indeed.
The contentious debates in the United States illustrates how radical
Wilson’s vision of international politics was at the time. For back at home,
he faced stiff opposition from US Senator Henry Cabot Lodge. Lodge was
particularly nervous about Article 10 of the League Charter. On Lodge’s
reading, Article 10 could require the United States under international
law to respond economically or militarily to the maintenance of collective
security in the event of an act of aggression on a member state. Wilson,
who had drafted Article 10, disagreed with Lodge’s far-reaching
interpretation. He pointed to the veto power that the United States
enjoyed in the League Council. What is more, Wilson reminded Lodge
and other detractors in Washington, DC, that even a unanimous Council
vote would only have advisory authority. According to Wilson, the United
States would be morally, not legally, bound by membership in the League
of Nations. For him, the real achievement laid in the fact that Article 10
constituted ‘a very grave and solemn obligation’ of a kind that states had
never previously entered into. And yet, in the United States at least, Lodge
prevailed over Wilson. Congressional approval never materialised in the
United States, not least because Wilson was determined not to pursue
a compromise solution with the Republican Party that briefly seemed
possible in 1919.
57
Activity
Now read Article 10 of the Covenant of the League of Nations (1919):
‘The Members of the League undertake to respect and preserve as against external
aggression the territorial integrity and existing political independence of all Members of
the League.’
What is the substance of this Article and how would you interpret it? Do you agree with
Wilson or Lodge?
One would be remiss if, in addition to its progressive elements, one did not
also point out the reactionary aspects of Wilson’s vision. Mark Mazower
(2009: 23), the noted historian, implores us not to overlook how self-
serving the liberal project of international organisation had been from the
outset:
Before the Second World War, imperial internationalism
was articulated in a world that took the durability of empire
for granted; few, if any, African or Asian nationalist claims
to independence seriously registered. The League confined
Wilsonian talk of national self-determination almost entirely to
Europe and allowed the victorious European imperial powers to
expand their informal empires elsewhere.
Put differently, inasmuch as the League of Nations experiment (despite its
ultimate failure) put the world on a path toward greater multilateralism,
early twentieth-century multilateralism was designed to serve, first and
foremost, a lucky few (and leading nations) of the world.
How the League of Nations worked

As per its 1919 Covenant, the League had a permanent secretariat headed
by a secretary general. The secretary general was appointed by and
responsible to a council (initially consisting of the permanent members
Great Britain, France, Italy and Japan and four additional elected
members), which in turn, was accountable to an assembly. The Council
first convened in Paris on 16 January 1920, six days after the Treaty of
Versailles came into force. The same year, the League headquarters moved
to Geneva, Switzerland, where the first Assembly meeting took place on
15 November.
Decision-making in the Council (whose membership varied between eight
and 15 during its existence) required unanimity. This ensured that the
interests of the great powers would not be infringed. At the same time,
it severely hampered executive action by the Council. Although Article
16 authorised the Council to impose diplomatic and economic sanctions
as well as deploy military force, the unanimity requirement rendered
the League of Nations a largely ineffective guarantor of international
peace and security. The UN General Assembly today is in some respects
reminiscent of the League Assembly then. It decided questions of
membership and budget and served as a forum for presentations by heads
of delegations. Yet its six thematic committees (where decisions were
carried by majority) were less active than their institutional architects had
intended. As two scholars write, ‘the work of the assembly fell short of the
anticipated goals; much of its time was spent waiting for the great powers
to refer issues to it’ (Karns and Mingst, 2010: 70).
58
The creation of the permanent secretariat in Switzerland came largely

in response to France’s call for such a bureaucracy. Interestingly, it was
also France, in the form of Jean Monnet (who would subsequently play
a most important role in the post-Second World War integration of
Europe), that insisted on an ‘interpenetration of peoples’ in the staffing
of the secretariat. Other great powers were keen to create and maintain
strong ties between the secretariat and national ministries (usually those
charged with either foreign or economic affairs). In the final analysis, the
secretariat, under the first Secretary-General, Sir Eric Drummond, was
coordinating rather than conceiving international initiatives. It was far less
a contentious organ than the UN Secretariat, with its secretaries-general,
would soon become. For most of its duration, Drummond and his Geneva-
based staff oversaw cooperation with the League’s auxiliary organisations
such as the International Labour Organisation, the Permanent Court of
International Justice, the Permanent Mandates Commission and the World
Health Organization, to name but a few of the nearly two dozen bodies.
Notwithstanding the politically passive attitude adopted by Drummond,
the secretariat is noteworthy because it constituted the first ever
continuously functioning machinery of international diplomats. Although
the effects of these diplomats on the course of international politics in
the interwar period was marginal at best, their coming together and brief
existence as a collective international body remains remarkable to this day.
Institutional effects of the League of Nations

The League of Nations contributed several planks to an emerging
institutional framework for international cooperation. Let me single out
five, namely:
• the strategy of collective security
• the idea of disarmament
• the institution of international justice
• the norm of multilateralism
• the policy of the mandate system.
First, the League famously gave birth to the strategy of collective security
– an idea fundamentally at odds with the way in which sovereign states
had traditionally ensured their security, namely by unilateral means. In
the wake of the Treaty of Versailles, things were supposed to be different,
as laid out in Article 10 of the League Covenant (see the above Activity
for the text of Article 10). Going even further, Article 11 enshrined an
automatism never before heard of in history: ‘Any war or threat of war,
whether immediately affecting any of the Members of the League or not,
is hereby declared a matter of concern to the whole League, and the
League shall take any action that may be deemed wise and effectual to
safeguard the peace of nations.’ While innovative, the practice of collective
security, as we shall see, was out of step with the ideal imagined by the
peacemakers of Versailles.
Second, the League was instrumental in creating a momentum, albeit
short-lived, in favour of disarmament. Although the campaign faltered, not
least because of Germany’s withdrawal from the League in October 1933,
the idea survived the Second World War. It found renewed expression
in the partial Nuclear Test Ban Treaty of 1963, in the Nuclear Non-
Proliferation Treaty of 1968, and in the various Strategic Arms Limitation
and Reduction Talks of the 1970s (SALT) and 1980s (START). Although
59
a penchant for pacifism (and a refusal on the part of powerful member

states such as France and the United Kingdom to use force in support
of the League mandate) ultimately weakened the novel international
organisation, the general commitment to the peaceful settlement of
international disputes that is commonplace in the twenty-first century
international system owes much to the normative foundations of the
League of Nations.
Third, the League gave the world the Permanent Court of International
Justice, which held its first session in the Peace Palace of The Hague in
January 1922. Inasmuch as the Permanent Court at the time had very
little impact on international politics, the idea of the judicialisation
of international politics got stuck. After the creation of the UN, the
International Court of Justice was built in the ruins of the Permanent
Court and today represents a most important international organisation
for the peaceful settlement of international disputes. What is more, the
idea of international dispute settlement in many respects created the
cognitive space on the part of policy-makers for thinking, a few decades
later and once again in the late twentieth century, about the international
prosecution not just of international disputes, but also of international
crimes.
Fourth, the League proved innovative in that it emphasised and created
a forum for fostering international cooperation on a whole host of
issues affecting many of its member states at the time. Article 23 of the
Covenant, for example, calls for multilateral responses to such diverse
matters as labour, ‘natives’, human and drug trafficking, arms smuggling,
freedom of communication and movement and disease control. By trying
to undertake international action on all of these issues, the League of
Nations anticipated the truly universal and comprehensive international
organisation that the United Nations would become only 25 years later.
Finally, the League of Nations was innovative in that it, with its so-called
mandate system, reined in somewhat the excesses of colonialism. Article
22 provided for the following:
To those colonies and territories which as a consequence of the
late war have ceased to be under the sovereignty of the States
which formerly governed them and which are inhabited by
peoples not yet able to stand by themselves under the strenuous
conditions of the modern world, there should be applied the
principle that the well-being and development of such peoples
form a sacred trust of civilisation and that securities for the
performance of this trust should be embodied in this Covenant.
The best method of giving practical effect to this principle is that
the tutelage of such peoples should be entrusted to advanced
nations who by reason of their resources, their experience or
their geographical position can best undertake this responsibility,
and who are willing to accept it, and that this tutelage should be
exercised by them as Mandatories on behalf of the League.
By introducing international scrutiny of colonial rule, the League
put the sovereign states on notice and raised the spectre of ultimate
decolonisation. Alas, the international organisation, despite its promise,
was bedevilled by numerous problems. And the mandate system embodies
some of them. It is immediately apparent, from the language as well
as from the substance of Article 22, that the League of Nations was a
60
progressive international organisation, but it was not a revolutionary

one. Although it contributed new ideas and norms to the discourse
of international politics, it also served as a tool to maintain the basic
distribution of power in the international system (minus the defeated
Germany and Austria-Hungary). As Mark Mazower (2009: 194–95), a
historian at Columbia University, noted, in no uncertain terms:
The League has been an instrument of empire and it had
offered a basically imperial conception of world governance in
which leadership would be provided by the mature statecraft
of the great powers, with newcomers brought in when they
were deemed ‘civilized’. Underpinning its deliberations was a
sense of normative solidarity and, never far from the surface, a
pronounced sense of global hierarchy.
More immediately problematic for the organisation’s effectiveness than
the racial overtones of its institutional design was the League’s marginal
role in some of the security crises of the 1930s. Most important in this
context were the Manchuria crisis (1931) and the Abyssinia crisis (1935).
In the first example, the Japanese army, under a pretext, invaded the
northeastern part of China known as Manchuria in September 1931. The
Chinese government called upon the League of Nations to help resolve
the international dispute. On 24 October, the League adopted a resolution
condemning the Japanese invasion and calling for the withdrawal of
Japan’s Guandong Army. To the embarrassment of the international
diplomats in Geneva, Japan balked at the demand, refused to cooperate,
and ultimately withdrew from the League of Nations in 1933. The League
of Nations proved similarly powerless in the face of Italy’s invasion of
Ethiopia (then called Abyssinia) on 3 October 1935, following earlier
skirmishes in the Ogaden between Ethiopian militia and Somalis in
the employ of Italy. Although the League of Nations had investigated
the skirmishes, it failed to resolve the underlying bilateral dispute.
Notwithstanding the fact that the League, on 7 October, declared Italy
the aggressor and imposed sanctions, the international response failed to
make a dent in Italy’s resolve. Critically, neither France nor Great Britain
considered serious action against Italy. After various failed international
efforts, the League abdicated. When the Italian forces captured Addis
Ababa on 5 May 1936, all League sanctions were dropped. Shortly
thereafter, in flagrant violation of the League Covenant, what used to be
Ethiopia was incorporated into Italy’s colonial empire, Italian East Africa.
In the wake of the Abyssinia crisis, the United Kingdom and France gave
up on the strategy of collective security, trying to rely instead on the
policy of appeasement of Germany – with equally disastrous results. Not
surprisingly, given these collective security failures, the League vanished
from the international stage in the late 1930s. At the Teheran Conference,
in 1943, the Allied powers decided to replace the League of Nations with
an entirely new international organisation – what would become the
United Nations, to which we now turn.
Activity
Draw up a table summarising the causes of the First and the Second World Wars. How
would you compare and contrast them? Now try to summarise them to a fellow student
or a friend.
61
Institutional origins of the United Nations

In 2011, the UN welcomed its one hundred and ninety-third member
(South Sudan). At its creation, it comprised a mere 51 states. In 1945,
they came together in San Francisco and, after a great deal of bargaining
over the institutional design, signed the Charter of the UN on 26 June.
Unlike the League of Nations, the UN managed to unite under its
umbrella all of the (remaining) great powers in the international system,
notably China (by Taiwan until 1971, and by the People’s Republic of
China ever since), France, the Soviet Union, the United Kingdom and
the United States. The road to San Francisco was long and winding and
led via Moscow, Teheran, Dumbarton Oaks and Yalta. It is worth briefly
tracing these critical junctures. The journey started in 1941, when US
President Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR for short) and British Prime
Minister Winston Churchill signed the ‘Atlantic Charter’. It was an initial
indication that the United States was going to play an important role in
strengthening liberal internationalism. Shortly thereafter, in January 1942,
four major powers (China, the Soviet Union, the United Kingdom and the
United States) as well as two dozen smaller powers signed the important
Declaration by United Nations. Recognising the principles of the Atlantic
Charter, the Declaration established an alliance aimed at defeating Nazi
Germany and at working toward international peace and security.
From then on things moved relatively quickly. At conferences in Moscow
(October 1943) and Tehran (November 1943), the four major powers
(the ‘Big Four’) recognised the ‘necessity’ of establishing ‘a general
international organisation’. Between August and October 1944, the same
set of states met in Dumbarton Oaks, not far from Washington, DC, and
sketched and debated a draft constitution for the envisaged international
organisation. This draft already contained the core missions of today’s
UN as well as the institutional division of powers between a Security
Council, General Assembly, Secretariat and International Court of Justice.
Not yet resolved was the thorny question of voting procedures. The next,
three-power conference took place at Yalta, in February 1945, between
Roosevelt, Churchill and Joseph Stalin. The three leaders resolved
that the ‘sponsoring states’ of the UN (i.e. China, the Soviet Union, the
United Kingdom, the United States and later also France) should have
a veto power in all substantive matters, except where they are party to
a dispute under consideration. The final tweaking and adoption of the
UN’s institutional design was scheduled for the period April–June 1945,
when nearly 300 delegates worked in four commissions and 12 technical
committees to iron out any procedural and substantive agreements among
the UN’s potential member states.
As Ian Hurd (2007) tells it, from a constructivist perspective, the San
Francisco conference did more than merely rubber-stamp the great power
design. On his reading, the event marks ‘an important constitutional
moment in modern international history’ (Hurd, 2007: 83). What
exactly happened? The importance of the conference lies particularly in
its legitimation function. For as we have seen, the substance of the UN
Charter was largely in place at the time. What remained for the Big Four to
do was to convince the other, smaller states that great-power dominance
was in their interest, too. San Francisco, in short, was largely about
marketing the UN. Interestingly, the marketing exercise was successful.
But why? Realist readings would lead us to expect that the smaller states
simply had no choice but to sign up to the great-power design. If this
were true, it is hard to account for the fact that the Big Four, albeit in
62
different degrees, took the conference extremely seriously and went out
of their way to persuade sceptical states of the rightness of the proposed
institutional design. Liberals, especially neo-liberal institutionalists, next,
would argue that opposition to the great power design was overcome with
side payments on matters less significant than the veto. Yet a careful look
at the negotiations reveals that no major concessions were made to the
smaller states. Therefore an alternative explanation is needed.
According to Hurd, the unanimous approval of the UN Charter by smaller
states (which required a volte-face on the part of many of them) was
neither coerced nor bought. Rather, says Hurd, it was won by way of
discourse and deliberation. Instead of providing substantive concessions or
material side payments, the great powers offered ‘information assurances’.
More specifically, ‘the Big Four kept up a discourse of reassurance that the
veto would not be used often and would not create a problem between
the permanent give and the rest… The sponsors made continual reference
to the logic of collective security and to the greater responsibilities of the
permanent members’ (Hurd, 2007: 100−01). In other words, as far as the
institutional origins of the UN are concerned, the final juncture was heavily
influenced by the power of deliberation. Even though the outcome was, in
many respects, a foregone conclusion, the Big Four behaved as if it was not.
The outcome was materially insignificant but fundamental in constitutive
terms. By allowing smaller states to voice opinions, and by taking seriously
even opposition, the Big Four went a long way toward legitimating
what was an inherently unequal international organisation. ‘By carefully
following the procedures, the strong states grounded their claim that the
fight [over the UN’s institutional design] had been properly conducted
and the result should therefore be respected.’ Had the great powers simply
forced the Yalta design onto the smaller states in the international system,
the great powers would have had a much harder time mobilising support
for the new international organisation’s peculiar voting procedure. It is in
this sense that deliberation can be a channel of power.
How the UN works

The UN is really an entire system that is comprised of six principal organs,
numerous programmes and funds, various specialised agencies and a
number of subsidiary bodies. The principal organs are the Secretariat,
the Security Council (UNSC), the General Assembly (UNGA), the
International Court of Justice (ICJ, the only organ not based in New York),
the Trusteeship Council (now defunct) and the Economic and Social
Council (ECOSOC). The best known programmes and funds, all of which
are international organisations in their own right, are the United Nations
Children’s Fund (UNICEF), the United Nations Development Programme
(UNDP) and the Office of the High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR).
Lesser known are the United Nations World Food Programme (WFP)
and the United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP). Turning to
specialised agencies, the most important include the International Labour
Organisation (ILO), the World Health Organisation (WHO), the World
Bank Group, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the United
Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO).
Finally, the Human Rights Council, the International Criminal Tribunals
for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY) and Rwanda (ICTR), the Sanctions
Committees and the United Nations Peacebuilding Commission constitute
noteworthy subsidiary bodies.
63
Members of the UN are subject to general obligations set out in the

UN Charter as well as to authority of the six principal organs. In recent
years, some scholars have likened the Charter to a ‘constitution’. This
is not entirely inappropriate because the Charter, just like a domestic
constitution, enshrines the guiding principles of the polity; establishes,
and determines, the authority of, its institutions; and provides for the
rights and duties of its members. What is more, the UN Charter also
ranks supreme over any other international treaty. In its 19 chapters, the
document emphasises, most important, the fundamental role of ‘sovereign
equality’ (Article 2(1)), the importance of refraining from ‘the threat or use
of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any
state’ (Article 2(4)), the prohibition of intervention in the domestic affairs
of another states (Article 2(7)), and the decision-making procedures for
determining ‘the existence of any threat to the peace, breach of the peace,
or act of aggression’ (Article 39) and for responding to such predicaments
with (Article 42) and without (Article 41) armed force.
Speaking of decision-making procedures, it still is the case that the UNSC
wields most formal power in the UN system. It is akin to an executive
branch. All members of the UN are bound by its decisions and are
obligated to give effect to them (Articles 25 and 29). As is commonly
known, the Security Council has five permanent members (China, France,
United Kingdom, United States, Russia) and 10 rotating members serving
two-year terms. Pursuant to Article 27(3), decisions on anything other
than procedural matters require nine votes, including the ‘concurring
votes’ of the permanent members, the ‘P5’. The Security Council issues its
decisions, which often impose new and binding obligations on member
states, in the form of so-called resolutions. By comparison, neither the
Secretariat, UNGA, nor the ECOSOC have the authority to create legally
binding obligations. And yet, paradoxically, this lack of juridical power
does not necessarily take away from their empirical power in international
politics.
So much for the basics. Let us now turn to a theoretically informed
examination of what difference, if any, the UN, in whole or in part, makes
to international politics.
Activity
Who was the most successful Secretary-General of the United Nations, and why?
Institutional effects of the UN

On its website, the UN lists ‘60 ways’ in which the much maligned
international organisation ‘makes a difference’. These supposed
contributions range from ‘maintaining peace and security’ (No. 1) to
‘improving aviation and shipping’ (No. 15) to ‘ending Apartheid in South
Africa’ (No. 26), and from ‘providing safe drinking water’ (No. 36) to
‘wiping out polio’ (No. 53) to ‘protecting consumers’ health’ (No. 60).
Although the examples mentioned here certainly are illustrative of the
important and diverse roles that the UN has played ever since its inception
in the 1940s, it is also immediately obvious that the compilers of the UN
list have overstated many a UN contribution. To gain a more nuanced sense
of the difference the UN makes, it is helpful to return to the theoretical
approaches to international organisations with which we began this subject
guide. Rather than focusing only on substantive contributions, it is useful
to consider how the UN contributes to the process of international politics.
In other words, the question becomes by which mechanisms the UN exerts
64
its influence on the international system. Theoretically speaking, I shall

distinguish, and briefly illustrate, three such mechanisms (to be sure, other
mechanisms are conceivable as well), which are:
• deliberation
• legitimation
• constitution.
First, research has shown that the UN, and international organisations
more generally, sometimes play an important role in fostering collective
deliberation. One example of such influence is the Intergovernmental
Panel on Climate Change (IPCC). Created in 1988 under the auspices
of the UN and the World Meteorological Organisation, the IPCC has
provided both the settings and substance for international cooperation.
As a scientific body, it reviews and assesses, on a continuous basis, all
of the technical knowledge produced worldwide that contributes to
understanding and ameliorating climate change. It fosters collective
deliberation by providing policy-relevant yet policy-neutral information
about one of the most serious challenges for international politics to
member states. Through its comprehensive assessment reports, the
IPCC has significantly raised the level of debate about possible and
impossible solutions to the problem of climate change. It paved the way
for the adoption of the 1992 United Nations Framework Convention on
Climate Change (UNFCCC) that has sought to stabilise greenhouse gas
concentrations in the atmosphere, and for the famous 1997 Kyoto Protocol
to the UNFCCC. Regardless of what one makes of the success or failure of
international climate change negotiations, it is undeniable that the UN,
through both the IPCC and the UNFCCC, has greatly enhanced the level
of deliberation in both domestic and international settings about policy
responses to the dangers posed by ozone-depleting chemicals.
Second, the UN also exerts influence by legitimating norms and behaviour.
To stay with the example of climate change, the fact that the UN General
Assembly endorsed the IPCC went a long way toward raising its profile,
and thus the seriousness of the substantive issue. A more obvious example
is the external legitimacy bestowed by the UN on entities that it recognises
as sovereign states. But the legitimation mechanism can also have coercive
outcomes. In a recent study of the UN Security Council, Alexander
Thompson (2009) argued that the politics and costs of exercising hard
power in international politics has prompted states to pursue coercion
through international organisations. As Thompson (2009: 19−20) puts it,
‘The historical record shows that even powerful states can suffer politically
from coercion – especially when they choose to ignore relevant institutions
and rules.’ One example of this is the substantial costs incurred by France
and the UK in the wake of their 1956 Suez intervention, which they
undertook without UN authorisation.
Now, relying on an international organisation in the pursuit of
instrumental ends does not come cheap, which illustrates the fact that
many states really do believe in the independent power of international
organisations. For the coercing state, the accrual of so-called transaction
costs has the advantage of signalling its intentions to international and
domestic audiences alike. Approval by an international organisation can
go a long way toward convincing domestic and international publics of
the desirability of a given policy, thus reducing opposition. If we believe
Thompson, this reasoning drove the US ‘activation’ of the UN in advance
of its 2003 invasion of Iraq. Although the administration of George
W. Bush eventually abandoned its strategy of co-opting the UN, neo-
65
conservative policy-makers initially sought to channel coercion through

the international organisation. They reasoned that foreign publics (rather
than the US public) might be more willing to countenance a US invasion
abroad if the case for such international action were performed on a
multilateral stage. The theoretical logic underpinning this argument is
inherently rationalist in nature, derived from the literature on neo-liberal
institutionalism and overtly critical of constructivist explanations for states’
activation of international organisations. As Thompson puts it, ‘there is
little evidence that the Bush administration turned to the UN out of an
internalized desire to behave legitimately… Rather, the decision was based
on a calculation of political costs and benefits; the UN was a means, not
an end’ (Thompson, 2009: 154). Whatever one makes of the empirical
argument, the theoretical argument should give us pause for thought.
Finally, there is the mechanism of constitution, often highlighted by
constructivist scholars of international organisations. The argument here
is that international organisations not only channel power, they also
exercise authority. And not only that: international organisations are said
to generate power on account of the authority that constitutes them. This
power allows them to:
• classify the world by creating categories of problems, actors and
solutions
• invent and fix meanings in international politics
• articulate, promote, and disseminate new norms, rules, and procedures
(Barnett and Finnemore, 2004: 31).
In the cases of the League of Nations and the UN, one might cite the way
in which the former helped to invent the idea of collective security, and the
manner in which the latter helped streamline and popularise the notion of
a responsibility to protect (R2P) to illustrate the constitutive mechanism of
Conclusion
This chapter has sketched the history and theory of the League of Nations
and of the United Nations. It discussed in some detail both organisations’
institutional origins, then provided an overview of the UN’s principal
organs and operating procedures. The chapter closed with a discussion
of the UN’s institutional effects, distinguishing among three specific
mechanisms by which this most important of international organisations
affects international politics.

• describe similarities and differences between the League of Nations and
the UN
knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of the League of Nations and the UN
as actors in international politics.
66

1. Was the League of Nations a failure?
2. Is the United Nations a failure?
3. What does constructivism have to offer the study of the UN?
67
Notes
68
Chapter 7: The IMF (1945) and the World Bank (1945)
Chapter 7: The IMF (1945) and the World

Bank (1945)

This chapter introduces you to the theory, history and practice of the IMF
and World Bank. In addition to acquainting you with basic facts about the
evolution and operation of each of these international organisations, the
chapter brings theoretical insights from the previous chapters to bear on
the empirical material. By so doing, it illustrates the utility of using theory
to interrogate history, and of using history to interrogate theory.
• describe the similarities and differences between the IMF and the
World Bank
knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of the IMF and World Bank as actors
in international politics.
Essential reading
Chwieroth, Jeffrey M. Capital Ideas: The IMF and the Rise of Financial
Liberalization. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2009), pp.1–60.
Phillips, David A. Reforming the World Bank: Twenty Years of Trial and Error.
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), pp.3–44.
Further reading
Abouharb, M. Rodwan and David Cingranelli Human Rights and Structural
Adjustment. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007).
Bhagwati, Jagdish N. (ed.) The New International Economic Order: The North-
South Debate. (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1977).
Copelovitch, Mark S. The International Monetary Fund in the Global Economy:
Banks, Bonds, and Bailouts. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).
Easterly, William The White Man’s Burden: Why the West’s Efforts to Aid the Rest
Have Done So Much Ill and So Little Good. (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2006).
Feinberg, Richard E. ‘The Changing Relationship between the World Bank and
the International Monetary Fund’, International Organization, 42(3) (June
1988), pp.545–60.
Gilpin, Robert Global Political Economy: Understanding the International
Economic Order. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2001).
Hartzell, Caroline, Matthew Hoodie and Molly Bauer ‘Economic Liberalization
via IMF Structural Adjustment: Sowing the Seeds of Civil War?’,
International Organization, 64(2) (April 2010), pp.331–56.
Herman, Barry, José Antonio Ocampo and Shari Spiegel (eds) Overcoming
Developing Country Debt Crises. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010).
Park, Sysan and Antje Vetterlein (eds) Owning Development: Creating Policy Norms
in the IMF and World Bank. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).
Pop-Eleches, Grigore From Economic Crisis to Reform: IMF Programs in Latin
America and Eastern Europe. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press,
2008).
69
Sarfaty, Galit A. ‘Why Culture Matters in International Institutions: The

Marginality of Human Rights at the World Bank’, American Journal of
International Law, 103(4) (October 2009), pp.647–83.
Simmons, Beth A. ‘The Legalization of International Monetary Affairs’,
International Organization, 54(3) (August 2000), pp.573–602.
Sornarajah, Muthucumaraswamy and Jiangyu Wang (eds) China, India, and
the International Economic Order. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2010)
Stone, Randall W. ‘The Scope of IMF Conditionality’, International Organization,
62(4) (October 2008), pp.589–620.
Stein, Howard Beyond the World Bank Agenda: An Institutional Approach to
Development. (Chicago, Ill.: University of Chicago Press, 2008).
Vreeland, James Raymond The IMF and Economic Development. (Cambridge:
Wade, Robert and V. Venereso ‘The Asian Crisis: The High Debt Model vs. the
Wall Street-IMF-Treasury Complex’, New Left Review, 228 (March/April
1998), pp.3–23.
Weaver, Catherine Hypocrisy Trap: The World Bank and the Poverty of Reform.
Ngaire Woods The Globalizers: The IMF, the World Bank, and Their Borrowers.
Introduction
This chapter, like Chapter 6 and all subsequent empirical chapters, traces
the institutional origins, effects and futures of a paired set of international
organisations. In this case, I compare and contrast the institutional
development of the IMF and the World Bank. In addition to outlining their
basic organisational frameworks, I inquire into the power, politics and
pathologies of the so-called Bretton Woods system. As such, the chapter
acquaints students with the workings of the global political economy. I
begin by considering the institutional origins of the IMF. I then provide
an overview of its organisational structure and examine its institutional
effects. I subsequently repeat this analytical three-step for the World Bank.
Institutional origins of the IMF

The IMF dates back to 27 December 1945, when its first 29 member states
signed the Articles of Agreement that had been adopted the previous year
in the town of Bretton Woods, New Hampshire. The so-called Bretton
Woods Conference, which represented a watershed in international
cooperation, became necessary to stabilise the world economy in the wake
of the deleterious economic consequences of the Great Depression and the
Second World War. The IMF and the World Bank were the most notable
results. Although the twin international organisations share a common
origin and have pushed in similar directions, it is worth considering them
separately first.
One way in which governments had responded to the global economic
conflagration of the 1930s was to turn inward. They had attempted
to protect their economies from the influence of the outside world by
erecting trade barriers, by devaluing their currencies against each other
to stay competitive on export markets, and by restricting citizens’ ability
to hold foreign currency. However, these measures put a damper on
international trade, causing a rise in unemployment and a plunge in
living standards in many countries. Because unilateral responses had
proved counterproductive in stemming the tide of the Great Depression,
the institutional architects at Bretton Woods engineered a multilateral
70
framework for managing the international monetary relations of the post-

war world. They designed an international organisation that would help
establish and oversee a fully integrated international monetary system.
The key planks of this system were pegged exchange rates and a lending
facility.
The IMF became responsible for ensuring the stability of the international
monetary system. More specifically, the IMF was created to facilitate
and monitor short-term lending to countries with immediate balance of
payment problems. The immediate objective of such lending to this day
remains the stabilisation of local exchange rates. Given the lessons of
the interwar period, the IMF was also tasked with encouraging member
states to eliminate exchange restrictions that hindered international trade.
The larger objective on the minds of the IMF’s founders was to create the
structural conditions necessary for sustainable economic growth.
Activity
Find out what the ‘gold standard’ was, and why the international community abandoned
it. Can you imagine a scenario that would justify its re-introduction?
How the IMF works

Based in Washington, DC, the IMF counts 187 countries as its members.
The IMF, like the World Bank, has a Board of Governors. All member
states have two seats on it: one Governor and one Alternative Governor.
Usually, countries will send finance ministers or central bank presidents to
represent their interests. The governors convene once per year and reach
most decisions by single majority vote. The IMF’s Executive Board meets
more frequently, usually several times per week, and governs the daily
activities of the controversial international organisation. The executive
organ consists of 24 members that are either appointed by member states
or elected by groups of states. It is chaired by a Managing Director who, by
convention, is always European.
Member states provide the IMF’s resources through the payment of so-
called quotas, which are assessed based on a country’s relative position in
the global economy. Not only does the quota largely determine a member’s
voting power in IMF decisions, it also determines the size of loans a state
can borrow from the international organisation. In ordinary circumstances,
a government can borrow up to 200 per cent of its quota per year and 600
per cent of its quota in total. In exceptional circumstances (think the Euro
crisis in 2011–12), the borrowing ceiling can be lifted. In its 14th General
Review of Quotas, the IMF’s Board of Governors, in December 2010,
resolved that the IMF’s total quota resources would be raised from US$383
billion to US$767 billion.
The fund’s resources are deployed in support of three principal roles of
IMF. These are:
• surveillance
• lending
• assistance.
In terms of surveillance, the IMF keeps a close eye on national, regional,
and international economic developments, with particular reference to
the world’s financial markets. On the foundation of this review activity,
the IMF engages in economic forecasting and dispenses strategic advice
to individual countries so as to avert financial crises. The IMF’s lending
facility was designed to help countries implement this advice. Poorer
71
countries have been granted ever more access to cheap loans in recent
years in the hope that governments in the developing world will use the
money to build more flexible crisis prevention tools that make them less
vulnerable to fluctuations in the world economy. Finally, the IMF has
been engaged in offering technical assistance to countries in need. By
administering training in such diverse areas as expenditure management,
tax administration and banking regulation, the IMF seeks to impart, where
necessary, the level of technical expertise and professionalism that is
thought necessary for achieving the kind of stability envisaged at Bretton
Woods. As a result, a not insignificant number of the IMF’s some 2,500
staff members are posted in developing countries where they are involved
in neo-liberal capacity-building. The meaning of the adjective ‘neo-
liberal’ in this context is not to be confused with the very different usage
of the adjective in the context of the IR paradigm known as ‘neo-liberal
institutionalism’. Here, the term connotes the principles of the so-called
Washington Consensus of 1989, a set of market-driven policy prescriptions
for economically challenged developing countries.
Institutional effects of the IMF

Although short-term lending once was the hallmark of the IMF, in the
1970s, when the Bretton Woods system of fixed exchange rates came to
an end, the international organisation readjusted its mandate and began
to play a somewhat different role in international politics. As a result of
increased financial liberalisation in the international economic order,
and greater capital flows to emerging markets, typically in developing
countries, the IMF shifted its focus to addressing countries’ structural and
thus longer-term needs. It saw its mission in helping countries to ‘adjust’ to
the social and institutional prerequisites of global capitalism. The effects of
the IMF’s transnational economic interventions were far-reaching.
The power of the IMF stems from the conditionality that it attaches
to any loans extended to countries in need. In practice this has meant
that financial assistance is only forthcoming provided that governments
will agree to pursue far-reaching institutional and policy reforms. Such
reforms typically demanded macroeconomic stabilisation, liberalisation
and privatisation. The IMF became ever more indispensable in the context
of debt crises that beset various developing countries in the 1980s (for
example, Argentina, Mexico). The transition from command economies
to market economies after the fall of communism further established
the centrality of the IMF in international politics, as did the 1997 Asian
Financial Crisis that plunged the region as well as countries such as
Russia into economic turmoil. And the global recession at the end of the
‘Noughties’, notably the Greek crisis of 2011, underlined the fact that the
IMF may have outlived some aspects of its original mandate, but that it
has turned itself into an indispensable international organisation.
These politics of structural adjustment have caused many critics to decry
the socio-political dislocations that economic restructuring IMF-style
brought to many poor countries. A new era of protests against the IMF
(and its counterpart, the World Bank) got underway at the turn of the
millennium, shortly after the 1999 ‘Battle of Seattle’ during which an
estimated 40,000 critics of globalisation had assembled in Washington
state on the occasion of the WTO’s Ministerial Conference to protest
against various manifestations of corporate greed (for example, unjust
labour standards, environmental destruction, human rights violations,
global poverty).
72
But rather than focus only on its rather mixed performance sheet, I
want to delve into the IMF’s organisational culture. Doing so helps us
understand why this particular international organisation has remained
so wedded to neo-liberal policies, as defined above. On this point, Jeffrey
Chwieroth (2009) has written a very interesting book on the question
of where the IMF’s economic ideas come from. Because the IMF is, as
we have seen, involved in numerous areas, he has traced the rise of the
norm of capital freedom within the bureaucracy in Washington, DC. The
norm captures a belief in the desirability of capital account liberalisation,
namely, in the removal of controls on international capital flows.
Although, formally speaking, the IMF does not prohibit capital controls,
informally speaking, its staff promoted an abolition of such controls in
the 1980s and 1990s. The issue is of immediate policy relevance because
in recent years capital account liberalisation has been shown by some
scholars to have precipitated financial instability, initially in East Asia
in 1997–98 and most recently in the US subprime crisis that pushed the
world economy into turmoil in 2007.
Chwieroth (2009: 1) explores the origins of what he calls the ‘new
orthodoxy’ at the IMF. Interestingly, he finds that there was a great deal
of disagreement over the interpretation and application of the norm
of capital freedom within the IMF. In other words, he has shown that
the infamous international organisation, contrary to what many of its
critics want to have us believe, is far from homogenous. In response to
the question of what accounts for the transition from capital controls to
capital freedom in IMF thinking, Chwieroth points to the importance of
understanding normative change from within. On his argument, which
borrows heavily from constructivist thinking, it was not the pressure and
lobbying of the United States government or financial community that
explains the IMF’s embrace of capital account liberalisation, but rather
the nature of professionalisation and administrative recruitment inside
the international organisation as well as organisational learning that
accounted for the emergence of the new orthodoxy.
Because the mid-1980s saw many long-time staff retire from the IMF,
a new influx of recruits changed the intellectual currents within the
bureaucracy. As Chwieroth (2009: 162) puts it:
Many of the [incoming] staff were trained in PhD programs in
the virtues of market-oriented solutions. Academics were very
critical of regulations and played an important role in motivating
financial liberalization. As the climate changed intellectually it
impacted how these issues were viewed within the Fund.
Of course, this intellectual transformation was hardly uniform. Some
departments and units were more inclined (for example, the European
Department), others less so (for example, the Middle Eastern Department,
the African Department) to adopt the new trend. The second explanatory
factor, as mentioned, was organisational learning. Here the experiences
of several advanced industrialised economies with financial deregulation
at home persuaded them and others of the need for capital account
liberalisation.
This illustrative example speaks directly to the theme of institutional
effects, for it highlights the independent power of the IMF. By promoting,
for better or worse, the norm of capital freedom, the IMF has left an
indelible imprint on international politics.
73
Activity
Is capital freedom inherently valuable or inherently destructive? Refer to Chwieroth
(2009) for information.
Institutional origins of the World Bank

Like the IMF, the World Bank also originated at the 1944 Bretton Woods
Conference. What we call the World Bank Group today initially comprised
only the International Bank for Reconstruction and Development (IBRD).
It was less controversial an invention than the IMF because there was
a general recognition in the international community that European
states required money to rebuild a war-torn continent. However, the
US administration at the time insisted that the World Bank (like the
IMF) be based in Washington, DC, so as to be able to keep a close eye
on the international organisation. Moreover, the United States ensured
that Wall Street bankers featured prominently in the ranks of the World
Bank’s management. Of the World Bank’s 45 member states in 1947,
the year after the international organisation had started operations,
32 were located in either Europe or Latin America. Yet the World
Bank’s membership became more diverse as time went on. Many Asian
and African states joined in the 1950s and 1960s with the onset and
progression of decolonisation.
Although its mandate – the provision of long-term loans for specific
country projects to ameliorate structural inequalities for the purpose of
economic growth and development – has remained unchanged since
Bretton Woods, it is worth pointing out that the World Bank’s strategic
orientation did change several times over the years. To illustrate this
institutional development, I shall distinguish four phases.
First phase
During the first phase (1946–68), the World Bank pursued infrastructure
development as its foremost policy goal. Under Presidents Eugene Meyer,
John McCloy, Eugene Black and George Woods, the organisation followed
a narrow vision of state-led development. The focus was on reconstruction
and development – initially in Europe, later in developing areas –
narrowly understood. This meant that the World Bank provided finance to
fill investment gaps in such areas as telecommunications, electricity and
industry on the assumption that infrastructure projects would stimulate
economic growth.
Second phase
During its second phase (1968–1980), the World Bank broadened its
horizon, prodded by its most memorable President, Robert McNamara,
the former US Secretary of Defense. Under McNamara, the international
organisation made poverty reduction its principal policy goal. To this
end, it gave pride of place to a broad vision of state-led development,
providing redistributional assistance to meet basic needs in developing
areas. Practically speaking, this involved a switch to technical training
and knowledge transmission. Through capacity-building, the World Bank
sought to bring about health reform, education reform, economic reform,
and, ultimately, eradicate poverty.
74
Third phase
The third phase (1980–1989) remains the Bank’s most controversial.
Presidents Alden Clausen and Barber Conable embraced a very different
philosophy of development. On their watch, market-led development
became the mantra of the day. Consequently, the infamous policy of
‘structural adjustment’ began to define everything the World Bank
touched. During this time, the international organisation prescribed
macroeconomic reform packages for countries in economic need. Inspired
by John Williamson’s 10 policies of the ‘Washington Consensus’, they
required deregulation, stabilisation, liberalisation and privatisation of
these countries.
Fourth phase
Finally, the fourth phase (1989–present) coincides with the fall of
communism and transitions from authoritarian rule elsewhere in the
world. Once again, the reconstruction and development of newly
democratising countries became a concern for the World Bank. But this
time around, it went hand in hand with a concern for ‘good governance’,
which became the World Bank’s latest policy goal. Although the term
has largely disappeared now, the spirit of what it represented is still very
much alive in Washington, DC. For under Presidents Lewis Preston, James
Wolfensohn and Paul Wolfowitz (although the latter was more of an
aberration as leader), the World Bank discovered a new version of state-
led development. Going beyond the ‘miracle of the market’, it gradually
recognised the critical importance to economic growth and development
of such non-economic institutions as social capital, ethnicity, corruption
and civil war. In keeping with this trend, the World Development Report in
2010 addressed ‘Development and climate change’; in 2011 was devoted
to ‘Conflict, security and development,’ and in 2012 dealt with ‘Gender
equality and development’.
How the World Bank works

The World Bank consists of two institutions: the aforementioned IBRD and
the International Development Association (IDA). The World Bank Group,
in addition to the IBRD and IDA, also comprises the International Finance
Corporation (IFC), the Multilateral Investment Guarantee Agency (MIGA)
and the International Centre for the Settlement of Investment Disputes
(ICSID). It is therefore not surprising that the World Bank Group employs
more than 10,000 staff – more than the UN. The organisational structure
of the World Bank is similar to that of the IMF. It has a Board of Governors
that determines the general direction, and an Executive Board under the
leadership of a President is responsible for the everyday running of the
international organisation. Whereas the IMF is by force of custom always
under European leadership, the helm of the World Bank has traditionally
been reserved for an American citizen.
Voting power in the World Bank is calculated in the same way as at the IMF.
When a country applies for IMF membership (which is a prerequisite for
membership of the World Bank), it is required to supply data on the state of
its economy. After a comparison of this information with data from member
states with similar economies, a quota is assigned to the applicant country.
This quota partially determines a state’s voting power. For in addition to a
standard 250 votes, a country receives one additional vote for each share
it holds in the World Bank’s capital stock. The number of shares allotted
75
to a state is based on the aforementioned quota. The United States, as the

largest shareholder, currently holds nearly 270,000 votes. In 2010, the
World Bank concluded a voting reform which resulted in the raising by 3.13
per cent of the voting power of developing and transition countries to 47.19
per cent. France, Germany, Japan, the United Kingdom and the United
States now jointly hold 37.38 per cent. To give a comparison, the United
States originally held 25 per cent of the votes alone (down to 16 per cent in
2010). The biggest winners in the 2010 reform were China, which gained
1.64 per cent of votes, South Korea (up by 0.58 per cent), Turkey (up by
0.55 per cent) and Mexico (up by 0.5 per cent).
Turning to the constitutive organisations of the World Bank Group, the IFC
was set up in 1956 because of a growing demand in the private sector of
developing countries for commercial finance and the fostering of equity
markets. By contrast, the IDA was created and tied closely to the IBRD,
in 1960, in order to concentrate on ‘less commercial, more concessional,
guaranteed finance for the poorest countries’ (Phillips, 2009: 21). MIGA,
next, promotes direct foreign investment by providing political risk
insurance. Established in 1988, MIGA protects investors for up to 20
years against expropriation, war, breach of contract, the non-honouring of
sovereign financial obligations, and related risks. The ICSID, finally, has
functioned ever since its inception in 1966 as an international forum for
the resolution – by way of conciliation and arbitration – of legal disputes
between member states and investors.
The World Bank’s lending activity is divided between investment loans,
credits and grants on the one hand, and development policy loans,
credits and grants on the other. The former are aimed at putting in place
the physical and social infrastructure necessary for development. They
have accounted for 75 per cent of the World Bank’s portfolio during the
past two decades. Development policy operations, by contrast, are more
narrowly focused and of shorter duration. They make available rapid
financial assistance. Both types of lending activities are disbursed by
the IBRD and IDA respectively. In the 2011 fiscal year, both subsidiary
organisations committed approximately US$43 billion, of which nearly
US$12 billion was development policy lending. Any loans, credits and
grants from the World Bank become part of the sovereign debt of the
borrowing country. The World Bank funds its lending and other activities
with the contributions from member states as well as by selling AAA-rated
bonds in the world’s financial markets.
Activity
Many activists and politicians, as well as some celebrities, have called for ‘debt relief’ for
developing countries. What are the pros, and what the cons, of this proposal? Draw up a
table to summarise these.
Institutional effects of the World Bank

It is undeniable that the World Bank has had a far-reaching impact on
international politics. One indicator of the World Bank’s significance is the
fact that four regional multilateral development banks (MDBs) have been
created in the IBRD’s image, namely the Inter-American Development
Bank (1959), the African Development Bank (1964), the Asian
Development Bank (1966) and the European Bank for Reconstruction
and Development (1991). Like their mother institution, these MDBs
offer finance and technical assistance to economies (and countries) in
transition.
76
More important, hardly any major development project in the last 60 years
has been attempted without financial assistance or technical input from
the World Bank. According to its 2010 Annual Report, the World Bank
increased its financing under the rubric of development policy lending (as
opposed to investment lending) to US$20.7 billion in the fiscal year 2009
and 2010, up from $6.7 billion a year during the previous three years.
Furthermore, the economic norms promoted by the various organisations
comprising the World Bank Group have informed, and continue to do so,
the economic agendas of governments the world over. Beyond that, their
policies ‘underpin the international economic order by way of meeting the
needs of the Group of Eight (G8) and the Group of Twenty (G20)’ (Park
and Vetterlein, 2010: 8). Because the World Bank Group has also moved
into substantive matters that were deemed essential at Bretton Woods,
such as the environment, conflict, and gender relations, it has managed to
stay relevant despite a growing chorus of critics.
In the last several decades, the World Bank (much like the IMF) has
been heavily criticised in some quarters for its supposed subservience to
capitalism. In the eyes of some, the World Bank has played handmaiden to
powerful hegemonic elites in the West. Critics focus on the undemocratic
governance structure of the World Bank, its close relationship with
the private sector and its approach to development. One unintended
consequence of the financial assistance provided by the World Bank
(and IMF) to many developing countries was a growing debt burden in
these countries. Pressured by such NGOs as Jubilee 2000, a modicum of
reform was achieved. Following the 2005 G8 Summit, the World Bank, in
conjunction with the IMF and the African Development Bank, began to
implement the Multilateral Debt Relief Initiative (MDRI). Under the MDRI,
the three international organisations committed themselves to waiving
100 per cent of all eligible outstanding debt owed by the so-called heavily
indebted poor countries (HIPCs). And yet critics charge that the MDRI has
failed. In 2008, the World Bank launched a Debt Management Facility to
respond to the challenge of lowering debt levels.
Aside from the fact that the policies of the World Bank and IMF have
regularly caused social and economic dislocation in the countries in which
they were active, I want to draw attention to the marginalisation of human
rights in the World Bank’s pursuit of development. It was only in 2006 that
the outgoing General Counsel, in a legal opinion, insisted on the centrality
of human rights to the Bank’s work. Galit Sarfaty (2009) has explained
the institutional opposition to an incorporation of human rights matters
into the daily work of the international organisation with reference to the
World Bank’s organisational culture. Not unlike Chwieroth for the IMF
(see above), Sarfaty has shown that the relative insignificance of lawyers
compared to economists at the World Bank led to a marginalisation of
legal matters in the crafting of policy norms. As she writes, ‘Economists fill
the majority of senior management positions (although they do not make
up the majority of the staff), and their way of thinking prevails within the
institution, including how they define development success’ (Sarfaty, 2009:
673). Although the story is more complicated, this brief sketch brings us
back to the importance of theory for making sense of history. By turning
to, in this case, constructivist insights about the origins of preferences, we
can begin to understand why the World Bank as an actor in international
politics has been reluctant to promote non-economic aspects of
development more generally. For the addition of the environment, conflict,
and gender relations to the World Bank’s agenda was controversial inside
the bureaucracy on 1818 H Street, Washington, DC.
77
Conclusion
This chapter has sketched the history and theory of the IMF and of the
World Bank. It explained in some detail both organisations’ institutional
origins, and also provided an overview of their operating procedures.
Furthermore, we inquired into the institutional effects of both the IMF
and the World Bank, drawing attention in particular to the contribution
of constructivist approaches in explaining why some norms become part
of the operational fabric of the international financial institutions – and
others do not.

• describe the similarities and differences between the IMF and the
World Bank
knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of the IMF and World Bank as actors

1. What was structural adjustment, and what difference did it make to
international politics?
2. The World Bank is impossible to reform. Discuss.
3. What does constructivism have to offer the study of the IMF?
78
Chapter 8: GATT (1947) and the World Trade Organization (1995)
Chapter 8: GATT (1947) and the World

Trade Organization (1995)

This chapter introduces you to the theory, history and practice of GATT
and the WTO. In addition to acquainting you with basic facts about the
• describe the similarities and differences between GATT and the WTO
knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of GATT and the WTO as actors in
international politics.
Essential reading
Barton, John H., Judith L. Goldstein, Timothy E. Josling and Richard H.
Steinberg The Evolution of the Trade Regime: Politics, Law, and Economics of
the GATT and the WTO. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2008),
pp.1–60, 153–81.
Trachtman, Joel P. ‘The WTO and Development Policy in China and India’, in
Muthucumaraswamy Sornarajah and Jiangyu Wang (eds) China, India, and
2010), pp.17–52.
Further reading
Bermann, George A. and Petros C. Mavroidis (eds) WTO Law and Developing
Countries. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011).
Davis, Christina L. Why Adjudicate? Enforcing Trade Rules in the WTO.
Eichengreen, Barry, Poonam Gupta and Rajiv Kumar (eds) Emerging Giants:
China and India in the World Economy. (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2010).
Goldstein, Judith L. and Richard H. Steinberg ‘Regulatory Shift: The Rise of
Judicial Liberalization at the WTO’, in Walter Mattli and Ngaire Woods
(eds) The Politics of Global Regulation. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 2009), pp.211–41.
Goldstein, Judith L., Douglas Rivers and Michael Tomz ‘Institutions in
International Relations: Understanding the Effects of the GATT and the
WTO on World Trade’, International Organization, 61(1) (January 2007),
pp.37–67.
Irwin, Douglas A., Petros C. Mavroidis and Alan O. Sykes The Genesis of the
GATT. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009).
Jackson, John H. The Jurisprudence of GATT and the WTO: Insights on Treaty
Law and Economic Relations. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2007).
79
Jackson, John H. Sovereignty, the WTO, and Changing Fundamentals of

International Law. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009).
Jones, Kent The Doha Blues: Institutional Crisis and Reform at the WTO.
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009).
Joseph, Sarah Blame it on the WTO? A Human Rights Critique. (Oxford: Oxford
WTO. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2010), pp.23–85.
Lee, Yong-Shik Reclaiming Development in the World Trading System. (Princeton,
N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2009).
Matsushita, Mitsui, Thomas J. Schoenbaum and Petros C. Mavroidis The World
Trade Organization: Law, Practice, and Policy. (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2012) second edition.
Meléndez-Ortiz, Ricardo and Gregory C. Shaffer (eds) Dispute Settlement at
the WTO: The Developing Country Experience. (Cambridge: Cambridge
Patterson, Dennis and Ari Afilalo The New Global Trading Order: The Evolving
State and the Future of Trade. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2010).
Rothstein, Robert L. ‘Regime-Creation by a Coalition of the Weak: Lessons
from the NIEO and the Integrated Program for Commodities’, International
Studies Quarterly, 28(3) (September 1984), pp.307–28.
Sornarajah, Muthucumaraswamy and Jiangyu Wang (eds) China, India, and
2010).
Introduction
GATT and the WTO. In addition to outlining their basic organisational
frameworks, we inquire into the power, politics and pathologies of the
international trading regime. As such, the chapter (like the preceding one)
acquaints students with the workings of the global political economy. We
begin by considering the institutional origins of GATT. We then provide an
overview of its organisational structure and examine its institutional effects.
We subsequently repeat this analytical three-step process for the WTO.
Institutional origins of GATT

On 30 October 1947, 23 countries (so-called contracting parties) signed
the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT), a multilateral treaty
that set out, for the first time in history, international standards, rules
and decision-making procedures for the regulation of trade barriers
among states in the international system. Interestingly, even though GATT
evolved into, and survived as, an important international institution
until the creation of the WTO in 1995, it was initially intended only as
an addendum to what was supposed to become, under the auspices of
the UN, the International Trade Organization (ITO). As a result, de jure
GATT was not an international organisation, properly understood. It
represented nothing more than an international treaty. De facto, however,
GATT’s gradual institutionalisation in the post-war period eventually
persuaded international diplomats, during the so-called Uruguay Round
of trade negotiations, to formally acknowledge that what had begun as a
transitional institution had developed into the world’s principal forum for
making work multilateralism in trade.
80
The economic malaise of the interwar period had taught countries

the lesson that free trade needed an impetus. Neither the IMF nor the
World Bank was designed to do anything other than to help create an
environment conducive to unrestricted international trade. Neither of the
international financial institutions had a mandate to actively encourage
states to pursue freer trade. Following discussion among some of the
Western allies during the Second World War, the UN’s Economic and
Social Council (ECOSOC), set up in 1946 a preparatory committee to
explore the possibility of an international organisation for trade. During
the preparatory committee’s first, five-week meeting in London, a charter
for an ‘International Trade Organization for the UN’ was drawn up. This
‘London Draft’ morphed into a ‘Geneva Draft’ in 1947, and into a ‘Havana
Draft’ in 1948, at the UN Conference on Trade and Employment.
The Havana Conference was by far the most important because it
was attended by 58 states (as opposed to the 23 members that had
participated in the meetings of the preparatory commission). In the
course of the multilateral negotiations in Cuba, a rift emerged between
the representatives of the advanced industrialised and of the developing
countries over the reach of the envisaged ITO. Whereas the former were
keen on expanding free trade, the latter countries, many of which were
former colonies in Latin America, successfully insisted for themselves
on several escape clauses from pure free-trade principles in order to be
able to consolidate their national economies first before opening them
up to the world. A charter to this effect was adopted in Havana. The
document also included provisions that went well beyond the province of
international trade. These provisions include those regarding employment
and economic activity (Chapter II), such as an article calling on states
to ensure ‘full and productive employment’ (Article 3) and another
regulating ‘fair labour standards’ (Article 7), as well as provisions
pertaining to questions of economic development and reconstruction
(Chapter III). Most of this institutional design did not sit well with the
United States. Consequently, US President Harry Truman in 1950 chose
not to send the ‘Charter for an International Trade Organization’ adopted
in Havana to the US Congress for ratification, as it was bound to be
rejected. Because other countries followed suit, the ITO never came into
being. It was a still-born international organisation.
Because of the failure of the ITO project, GATT took on a much greater
coordinating role than it was intended to play. GATT originally grew
out of talks among 15 governments that had commenced in December
1945, and which were aimed at uprooting protectionism in international
politics. Initial bargaining resulted in 45,000 tariff concessions and
affected an estimated one-fifth of the world’s trade volume, or
US$10 billion.
How GATT worked

Due to its treaty origins, GATT functioned chiefly as an international
regime, as theorised by a certain strand of liberal IR scholarship. This
regime introduced three major substantive principles (called ‘standards’)
for the conduct of international trade. These were:
• non-discrimination
• liberalisation
• reciprocity.
81
The standard of non-discrimination demanded of countries to treat all

trading partners in an equal fashion. Countries were not supposed to
discriminate against certain countries. If one state offered another state
favourable trade conditions, it was supposed to extend this treatment
to all other states. The standard of liberalisation demanded the removal
or reduction of trade barriers, both tariff and non-tariff. The standard of
reciprocity imposed the obligation on contracting parties to design trade
agreements in a manner that generates benefits for all parties involved.
This standard was supposed to level the playing field and protect weaker
states from having to make unilateral concessions to stronger ones in trade
negotiations.
Over the course of five decades, GATT became ever-more institutionalised.
This process of institutional development unfolded in stages, with seven
‘trade rounds’ following in the wake of the 1947 Geneva Conference.
Initially, the aim of these rounds was to further reduce the number and
types of tariffs structuring international trade. This at least was the
principal agenda item at the Annecy Round (1949), the Torquay Round
(1951), the Geneva Round (1956) and the so-called Dillon Round
(1960−1961), which also took place in Geneva (as would all GATT rounds
henceforth). Yet starting with the Kennedy Round (1964–1967), additional
subjects began to make it onto the GATT agenda. A major accomplishment
in this round was the first anti-dumping agreement (directed at forbidding
the export of products to foreign markets for prices below those
charged on the home market). Another innovation was a discussion of
development as a trade concern. There was another important change.
Trade negotiations were beginning to take significantly longer to complete.
The Kennedy Round lasted three years, the Tokyo Round six years, and the
Uruguay Round, of which more in the context of the WTO’s institutional
origins, lasted nearly eight years.
The Tokyo Round (1973–1979) was significant, among other things,
because GATT ‘membership’ nearly doubled within a decade from 62 to
102. It also led to a series of arrangements committing contracting parties
to curtailing the use of non-tariff barriers as instruments of protection (for
example, quotas, import licensing requirements, export subsidies). Because
some of these arrangements were not fully multilateral in nature (in the
sense of having been adopted by, and being binding for, all contracting
parties), but merely ‘plurilateral’ (subscribed to on a voluntary basis
and by only few Contracting Parties), they were for a long time referred
to as ‘codes’, not agreements. Finally, there was the Uruguay Round
(1986–1994), to which I return in more detail below. The negotiations
were beset with drama and continuously stalled. It was no wonder
considering that a total of 15 subjects were placed on the 1986 agenda
for the Uruguay Round, notably textiles and clothing, agriculture, tropical
products, intellectual property, investment measures, dispute settlement
and trade in services. The 10 ministerial conferences, which tackled
virtually all outstanding issues of trade policy – of which agriculture was
the thorniest – highlighted the inadequate nature of GATT for governing
the international trade of the twenty-first century. A plethora of trade
items ranging from banking to AIDS vaccines, and from toothbrushes to
telecommunications, were on the bargaining table. The series of deadlocks
that stalled made plain that a new international organisation was needed
if the international community was serious about making international
trade free – and fair.
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Activity
In the post-Second World War international system, developing countries sought to establish
a ‘new international economic order’ (NIEO). Whatever happened to this project?
Institutional effects of GATT

Until its demise in 1995, GATT performed remarkably well. Although the
Uruguay Round showcased everything that was wrong with the existing
institutional architecture of the international trading regime at the time,
it also highlighted how far the international administration of the said
regime had come in the span of a mere four decades. According to some
estimates, the GATT regime created the conditions for annual growth
rates in the volume of international trade in the order of eight per cent in
the 1950s and 1960s.
Whereas tariffs dominated the first 20 years of its existence, the GATT’s final
20 years saw a steady liberalisation of international trade. In this context,
GATT’s later package approach to negotiating international trade rules was
both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, a multi-sector agreement
offers more scope for trade-offs, especially when the number of parties to
an agreement is large. A package deal can also make it easier to bring about
agreement on a contested issue. It is sometimes said that the liberalisation
of trade in agricultural products, which the Uruguay Round advanced,
would have been impossible outside of an ambitious package deal. On the
other hand, single-sector deals can reduce many of the transactions involved
in managing more comprehensive negotiations. In 1997, for example, under
the auspices of WTO, single-sector agreements were successfully concluded
with regard to international trade in basic telecommunications and
financial services. Generally speaking, however, weaker countries, especially
developing countries, tend to have more opportunities for influencing the
rules of the international trading regime when they negotiate multilaterally
rather than bilaterally.
When viewed in retrospect, GATT allowed more countries to trade
with one another than ever before. In the 1980s, however, it became
increasingly apparent that GATT had rather outlived its usefulness. On the
one hand, the global economic downturn of the late 1970s had caused a
resurgence of protectionist measures. On the other hand, the steady march
of globalisation resulted in greater trade volumes, more complex trading
across borders, and the emergence of new trade sectors (for example,
services). Thus came about the idea to return to the previously failed
project of an international trade organization.
Institutional origins of the WTO

The WTO grew out of the Uruguay Round of the GATT, and many of the
agreements that resulted from that round continue to determine the pace
and scope of the WTO’s role in international politics. Three agreements in
particular are relevant for understanding the institutional foundations of
the WTO.
1. The updated General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (sometimes
known by the acronym ‘GATT 1994’ to distinguish it from the original
GATT, or ‘GATT 1947’).
2. The General Agreement on Trade in Services (GATS).
3. The General Agreement on Trade-Related Intellectual Property Rights
(TRIPS).
83
The TRIPS Agreement is perhaps the best known of the three. It received
a lot of attention in the 1990s because it illustrated so very clearly the
impact of globalisation on the nature of international trade. Whereas
the institutional architects of GATT had to concern themselves mostly
with the movement of goods across borders, the late twentieth century
had witnessed an upsurge in the movement of ideas and knowledge
across borders. As a result of this changing character of international
trade, states in the Northern hemisphere especially were keen to craft
international rules for the protection of intellectual property. Among
other things, TRIPS introduced ground rules about the protection of such
diverse intellectual property as trademarks, integrated circuit designs and
pharmaceutical patents.
In 2001, the WTO launched its first trade round, what became known as
the Doha Development Round or, alternatively, as the Doha Development
Agenda. The Doha Round represents in many respects a continuation
of the negotiations about the liberalisation of trade in agriculture and
services that began in the final decade of GATT. However, progress in
the negotiations stalled, not least because of a reluctance on the part
of advanced industrialised countries to reduce agricultural subsidies.
Developing countries have rightly complained for decades that such
subsidies prevented them from competing fairly on Western markets.
The subject of agriculture created a cleavage between, on one side of the
divide, the United States, the EU and Japan; and, on the other side, China,
Brazil, India, South Korea and South Africa. The creation of the so-called
G4 (composed of the United States, the EU, Brazil and India) did not
manage to bridge the fundamental disagreements. On top of this, decision-
making became more difficult because the sizeable increase in WTO
membership created a situation in which developing countries for the first
time outnumbered industrial countries in an international trade forum.
How the WTO works

The WTO is governed by a Ministerial Conference (MC) that consists of
representatives of all member states (called ‘contracting parties’ under
GATT) and which meets at least once every two years. It is the highest
decision-making body of the WTO. A General Council (GC), by contrast,
is responsible for the everyday governance of international trade. It
acts on behalf of the MC, and is supported by a Secretariat of 600 staff.
Meetings take place several times per year. The GC, which is comprised
of ambassadors or heads of delegation, also meets as the Trade Policy
Review Body (TPRB) and the Dispute Settlement Body (DSB). The GC
oversees three subsidiary councils, one devoted to implementing each of
the aforementioned general agreements. Accordingly, there is a Council for
Trade in Goods, a Council for Trade in Services and a Council for TRIPS.
Both TPRB and DSB are institutional innovations that came out of
the Uruguay Round of GATT. Beginning with the former, one of the
assumptions underpinning the multilateral trade regime is the assumption
that information matters. The more transparent the conditions for
international trade, or so the argument goes, the more willing will states
be to remove barriers to market entry. The idea behind the establishment
of the TPRB was to create a central body that collects and reviews and
disseminates trade-related information from states – for states. WTO
members are obliged to inform the WTO and other member states by
way of so-called notifications of all trade measures that have a bearing
84
on the operation of GATT 1994. Aside from these submissions, states’

international trading behaviour is also subject to regular peer review.
For this purpose, trade policy reviews are conducted and publicised. The
interval between reviews differs for countries depending on their size
and economic standing. The world’s largest trading states – the European
Union, the United States, Japan and China – are examined every two
years or so. The second largest group of level trading nations comes under
scrutiny every four years and the vast majority of countries only once in
six years.
Perhaps the most important institutional innovation associated with the
WTO is the significantly strengthened legal framework within which
international trade disputes can be adjudicated. In the event of a trade
dispute between member states, the parties are obligated to forgo
unilateral sanctions and must seek a resolution through the DSB. The
increased legalisation of international dispute settlement in the trade
sector was an effort to encourage greater compliance with international
rules and regulations. In procedural terms, the DSB only becomes active if
states cannot resolve their trade dispute amicably by way of consultation.
Once asked to intervene by one of the parties, the DSB establishes a ‘panel’
to adjudicate the dispute in question. The ‘accused’ state can block the
creation of a panel once. If the dispute comes before the DSB a second
time, the investigation will commence. Panels at the WTO are akin to ad
hoc tribunals. Panel members (three or five) are appointed specifically
for each dispute. Panellists are appointed based on their expertise, mostly
in consultation with the disputing states. They usually have six months
to complete their investigation of the dispute and are required to issue
a report. The DSB considers the panel report, and it is binding on the
disputing states unless the DSB rejects it by consensus. An Appellate Body
is available to hear appeals. If a panel verdict is upheld on appeal, the DSB
has the authority to impose limited trade sanctions on the party found in
violation of the rules and regulations of the WTO regime. By 2008, 369
cases had reached the DSB. Of those, only 136 cases entered the panel
process. The remainder was settled outside of the WTO or is still in the
consultation process.
Activity
How important is international law for international trade? Is it a weapon of the weak or
of the strong?
Institutional effects of the WTO

The WTO is an updated, modernised version of GATT. It is less self-
conscious about its organisational nature, and it embodies an institutional
framework capable of dealing with a much larger swathe of international
trade than GATT ever could. Where GATT was designed to help liberalise
international trade in goods, the WTO was established based on the
realisation that the international trade in services and intellectual property,
to name but two recent growth sectors, also required international rules
and regulation. This realisation begot, according to some scholars, a
phase of ‘judicial liberalisation’ (Goldstein and Steinberg, 2009) in the
international trade regime. Liberal IR scholars have provided rationalist
explanations as to why international law began to matter more in the
pursuit of freer trade.
85
In this context one of the most important institutional effects took place at
the WTO itself. Judith Goldstein and Richard Steinberg (2009: 212), for
example, have found evidence of a regulatory shift ‘from the legislative to
the judicial’ at the international organisation. This shift, say the authors,
‘has given a new set of actors the authority and autonomy sufficient to
set policy. The result has been that the organisation has supported more
trade liberalization than would have occurred otherwise.’ The argument’s
logic is as follows. Because stalemate in multilateral trade negotiations
has become the norm, the judicial forum (namely, the DSB) has gained in
influence, and the legislative forum (namely, the Ministerial Conference)
has lost in significance. This is so, we are told, because the WTO dispute
settlement system:
offers an alternative to negotiated liberalization with a potential
for liberalizing subsectors that could not be opened through
traditional trade negotiations… In trade negotiations, US
steel, sugar, cotton, apparel and other inefficient producers
have succeeded for half a century in assuring their continued
protection: facing certain devastating losses from liberalization,
they have remained united in successfully keeping themselves
off the bargaining table, capturing US trade policy… The WTO
dispute-settlement mechanism process turns that politics on its
head. By making decisions individually, the courts [i.e. the DSB
panels] undermine the ability of groups to bundle their interests
with that of other groups. At the end of the dispute settlement
process, the threat of retaliation pits one of the offending
protectionist subsectors against a large number of export-oriented
interests… This asymmetry – many exporters against a single
import-competing group – creates the political space that pushes
liberalization forward. (Goldstein and Steinberg, 2009: 239−40)
In short, whereas negotiation is on the decline as an instrument of trade
liberalisation in the international system, litigation is arguably on the rise.
A key institution has been the WTO’s Appellate Body. And if we believe
Goldstein and Steinberg (2009: 223, 235), the WTO’s judicial law-
making has thus far had ‘a liberalising bias’. If this finding is borne out by
additional evidence, it would demonstrate an interesting and unintended
institutional effect of one key innovation in the WTO design.
I would be remiss if I did not mention the infamous ‘Battle of Seattle’ on
the occasion of the 1999 WTO Ministerial Conference. The conference
was meant, but eventually failed, to inaugurate the WTO’s ‘Millennium
Round’ of trade negotiations. But leaving aside for the moment what
transpired inside the Washington State Convention and Trade Center
for failure, it was the massive and sustained protests against the WTO
in the streets that dominated the headlines at the time. For an estimated
40,000 anti-globalisation protesters, representing very diverse (and often
conflicting) causes, paved the way for the emergence of a transnational,
anti-capitalist movement that recently resurfaced in the context of the
2011 ‘Occupy movement’ against economic and social inequality following
the global financial crisis. In terms of institutional effects, it is undeniable
that the WTO has had many unintended consequences in the developing
world. Despite protestation to the contrary, the WTO has reinforced the
structural inequality that has been inherent in the modern international
trade regime ever since its emergence in the aftermath of the Second
World War. Although the institutional reforms endorsed by the Uruguay
Round have gone some way towards levelling the playing field between
rich and poor, and North and South, even a cursory review of the practice
86
of international trade reveals that inequities remain. Put differently, it is

important to appreciate that inasmuch as the WTO is an indispensable actor
of international politics, it contributes to dividing very unevenly among the
world’s countries the costs and benefits of free international trade.
Activity
What was the ‘Battle of Seattle’, and why did it matter?
Conclusion
This chapter has sketched the history and theory of GATT and the WTO.
It explained in some detail both organisations’ institutional origins, and
also provided an overview of their operating procedures. Furthermore, we
inquired into the institutional effects of both GATT and the WTO, drawing
attention in particular to the contribution of rationalist approaches for
explaining why international law has come to play, in the last 15 years, a
most important role in the liberalisation of international trade.

• describe similarities and differences between GATT and the WTO
knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of GATT and the WTO as actors in

1. Are the WTO rules for international trade inherently unfair?
2. Explore the role of law in the international trade regime.
3. Does the WTO work?
87
Notes
88
Chapter 9: NATO (1952) and the OSCE (1995)
Chapter 9: NATO (1952) and the OSCE

(1995)

This chapter introduces you to the theory, history and practice of NATO
and the OSCE. In addition to acquainting you with basic facts about the
• describe similarities and differences between NATO and the OSCE
knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of NATO and the OSCE as actors in
Essential reading
McCalla, Robert B. ‘NATO’s Persistence after the Cold War’, International
Organization, 50(3) (June 1996), 445–75.
Adler, Emanuel, ‘Seeds of Peaceful Change: The OSCE’s Security Community
Building Model’, in Emanuel Adler and Michael Barnett (eds) Security
Communities. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), pp.119–60.
Further reading
Adler, Emanuel and Michael Barnett ‘A Framework for the Study of Security
Communities’, in Adler, Emanuel and Michael Barnett (eds) Security
Daalder, Ivo and James Goldgeier ‘Global NATO’, Foreign Affairs, 85(5)
(September/October 2006), pp.105–13.
Flockart, Trine ‘“Masters and Novices”: Socialization and Social Learning
through the NATO Parliamentary Assembly’, International Relations, 18(3)
(September 2004), pp.361–80.
Flynn, Gregory and Henry Farrell ‘Piecing Together the Democratic Peace: The
CSCE Norms and the “Construction” of Security in Post-Cold War Europe’,
International Organization, 53(3) (July 1999), pp.505–35.
Gheciu, Alexandra ‘Security Institutions as Agents of Socialization? NATO and
the “New Europe”’, International Organization, 59(4) (October 2005),
pp.973–1012.
Pouliot, Vincent International Security in Practice: The Politics of NATO-Russia
Diplomacy. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).
Reiter, Dan ‘Why NATO Enlargement Does Not Spread Democracy’,
International Security, 25(4) (Spring 2001), pp.41–67.
Risse-Kappen, Thomas ‘Collective Identity in a Democratic Community: The
Case of NATO’, in Peter J. Katzenstein (ed.) The Culture of National Security:
Norms and Identity in World Politics. (New York: Columbia University Press,
1996), pp.357–99.
89
Schake, Kori ‘NATO after the Cold War 1991–1995: Institutional Competition
and the Collapse of the French Alternative’, Contemporary European History,
7(3) (November 1998), pp.379−407.
Shimizu, Hirofumi and Todd Sandler ‘Peacekeeping and Burden-Sharing,
1994–2000’, Journal of Peace Research, 39(6) (November 2002), pp.651–68.
Thies, Wallace J. Why NATO Endures. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2009).
Thomas, Daniel C. The Helsinki Effect: International Norms, Human Rights, and
the Demise of Communism. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press,
2001).
1945–1963. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1999).
Wallander, Celeste ‘Institutional Assets and Adaptability: NATO After the Cold
War’, International Organization, 54(4) (Autumn 2000), pp.705–35.
Walt, Stephen ‘Why Alliances Endure or Collapse’, Survival, 39(1) (Spring
1997), pp.156–79.
Weber, Steve ‘Shaping the Postwar Balance of Power: Multilateralism in NATO’,
International Organization, 46(3) (June 1992), pp.633–80.
Introduction
NATO and the OSCE. In addition to outlining their basic organisational
frameworks, we inquire into the power, politics and pathologies of
one important security regime. As such, the chapter explores the role
of international organisations in the creation and maintenance of
international peace and security. We begin by considering the institutional
origins of NATO. We then provide an overview of its organisational
structure and examine its institutional effects. We subsequently repeat this
analytical three-step process for the OSCE.
Institutional origins of NATO

NATO is an unusual international organisation in that it has both a civilian
and a military arm. In other words, unlike the UN, it is both a political
organisation and a military organisation. This dual institutional nature has
had implications for the way in which NATO works, and for the changing
roles it has played ever since its inception in 1949. In that year, on 4 April,
12 states signed the North Atlantic Treaty that created NATO. Except for
the United States and Canada, all of them were Western European states:
Belgium, Denmark, France, Iceland, Italy, Luxembourg, the Netherlands,
Norway, Portugal and the United Kingdom. This points to another curious
fact about NATO: although indisputably an international organisation by
membership, its focus has, until recently, been decidedly regional. Only in
the post-Cold War world have NATO missions been deployed outside of
Western Europe, namely, in the former Yugoslavia and, most recently, in
Libya. In order to understand this shifting mandate, we must begin, once
again, with institutional origins.
One of the best accounts of NATO’s early history has been provided by
Marc Trachtenberg (1999). A historian by training, Trachtenberg offers a
more nuanced treatment of the making of the NATO system than is often
found in accounts by IR scholars. For him, the road to NATO began in
late 1949. On this realist account, the critical juncture was a major shift
in the distribution of power in the international system. For the West’s
90
nuclear primacy had come to an end in August 1949 when the Soviet
Union successfully conducted nuclear tests. What is more, the most
threatening state for the West was putting its economy on a war footing.
Global conflict, conventional or otherwise, seemed unavoidable. In
response, the United States and its allies were keen to address the military
balance in Western Europe. Whereas the US−Soviet relationship was less
confrontational in the immediate aftermath of the Second World War, it
was now clear to many that Europe had to be defended against a possible
communist onslaught. The idea of ‘forward defense’ was born.
In its pursuit, NATO was set up as a military organisation aimed at
defending the West against the East. As we have seen above, the original
membership did not include Germany, for obvious reasons. However, it
dawned on many of the victorious Western powers that sooner or later
Germany would have to be included in their common defensive front
because its territory would be vital for holding the Soviets at bay in the
event of a military engagement. But officially, of course, the Western powers
were opposed to any form of German military rearmament only four years
after the end of the Second World War. US President Harry Truman, for
one, was sceptical of calls by his Joint Chiefs of Staff to allow Germany
to participate in NATO’s defensive arrangements. It was a conundrum:
Germany was seen as a security threat, but the West’s other security
threat, the Soviet Union, demanded a defence that required trusting the
government of a country that had only just ceased to be the enemy.
A rift emerged within the Western alliance. The United States grew less
concerned about a rearmed Germany, but the Europeans for the most
part worried that a decision to rearm Germany could provoke the Soviet
Union (Trachtenberg, 1999: 111) and thus trigger war. It is perhaps worth
noting in this context that the United States was not too keen to pursue
hegemony on the continent. Dean Acheson, the US Secretary of State,
would have liked nothing better than Western Europe shouldering the
burden for its defence by itself. Because such a European solution (under
the auspices of what was supposed to become the European Defence
Community) eventually collapsed, the United States took the reins of
collective defence and pushed, in the early 1950s, for a strengthening of
the fledgling NATO system. The Korean War (1950–1953) also occasioned
thinking about the further institutionalisation and consolidation of the
fledgling North Atlantic security framework.
These developments led to the signing of the 1954 Paris Accords, which
provided for West Germany’s membership of NATO and the creation of a
national army (held in check by several Allied controls). It also ended the
occupation regime. Henceforth, the nine treaty powers recognised Western
Germany (formally the Federal Republic of Germany) as the only legitimate
representative of the German people in international affairs. In exchange,
the West German government, under the strategic leadership of Chancellor
Konrad Adenauer, conceded to the three major Western allies the right to
station military forces on German territory as well as the right to block any
plan for German reunification that ran counter to their interests. With the
legal status of West Germany settled, NATO’s institutional structure was in
place. It remained effectively unchanged until the fall of communism, when
the rationale for a defensive alliance aimed at keeping, in the memorable
words of NATO’s first Secretary General, Lord Ismay, ‘the Americans in, the
Russians out, and the Germans down’, all of a sudden was less compelling
than it had been 50 years earlier.
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Activity
List what you consider to be the key events in the early years of the Cold War (1948–
1953).
How NATO works

Initially, NATO was not much more than an international institution
destined to become an international regime. It was devoid of a
bureaucratic apparatus or a permanent seat. Article 5 of the North Atlantic
Treaty only provided that:
The Parties agree that an armed attack against one or more of
them in Europe or North America shall be considered an attack
against them all and consequently they agree that, if such an
armed attack occurs, each of them, in exercise of the right of
individual or collective self-defence recognised by Article 51 of
the Charter of the United Nations, will assist the Party or Parties
so attacked by taking forthwith, individually and in concert with
the other Parties, such action as it deems necessary, including the
use of armed force, to restore and maintain the security of the
North Atlantic area.
Notwithstanding this far-reaching commitment to collective defence,
in its early days NATO lacked the integrated institutional architecture
that it possesses today. In fact, the military structure of the international
organisation was non-existent in the early 1950s. NATO was an alliance,
not less, but also not more. As Wallace Thies (2009: 105) writes, ‘prior
to the Korean War, military issues were by and large neglected, military
strength was more latent than actual; the issue of who should do what was
studied but not resolved’.
The North Atlantic Council (NAC), established in Article 9 of the North
Atlantic Treaty, was the only institutional expression of NATO at the time,
and it was a floating body with no headquarters. As a forum for high-
level representatives from NATO’s member states, the NAC remains the
most important decision-making body of the international organisation,
meeting at least once a week. Unlike in NATO’s formative phase, the
NAC nowadays is but one of several institutions in NATO’s organisational
structure. Yet it still ranks supreme. A unique NAC feature, then and now,
is the absence of a voting mechanism. All decisions are taken unanimously.
Although this norm has time and time again complicated decision-making,
it has also legitimised NATO policies as expressions of the collective will of
the organisation’s member states.
After 1951, the few existing civilian agencies of NATO underwent a marked
transformation. ‘NATO members embarked during the early 1950s, as part
of the Korean War rearmament effort, on a quest to endow the Alliance
with a set of agencies intended to promote the goal of collective defense to
a degree unprecedented in the history of alliances’ (Thies, 2009: p.116).
NAC was made a permanent body and headquartered in Paris. A small
NATO bureaucracy was formed and headquartered in London. On 28 April
1952, NATO finally became a fully-fledged international organisation replete
with a Secretary General. It was not until this time that the dual nature of
NATO – a political and military organisation – was firmly in place. Ever
since its civilian headquarters have been based in Brussels, and the military
headquarters (known as the Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe)
in Mons, Belgium. NATO’s staff consists of national delegations sent by its
28 member states. These contingents comprise both civilian and military
92
staff. Staff are drawn from countries’ diplomatic corps as well as their armed
services.
Thorny and far-reaching decisions about NATO’s institutional make-up
and strategic orientation are taken not by the NAC but at so-called NATO
summits. These meetings of heads of state are venues for deliberation
and decision. The first NATO summit took place in Paris in 1957 and
served to reaffirm the principal purpose and unity of the alliance. The
latest took place in Lisbon in 2010, where, among many other things,
the international organisation presented its new strategic concept,
entitled ‘Active Engagement, Modern Defence’. That summit also resolved
to develop a NATO Cyber Defence Policy as well as to craft a NATO
missile defence system. Other noteworthy NATO summits launched the
Partnership for Peace initiative (Brussels, 1994), invited a first group of
countries on the territory of the former Soviet Union (the Czech Republic,
Hungary and Poland) to begin accession talks (Madrid, 1997) and created
the NATO−Russia Council (Prague, 2002).
Institutional effects of NATO

On 31 October 2011, a NATO Airborne Early Warning and Control Aircraft
(AWACS) concluded the last flight of ‘Operation Unified Protector’, thus
ending NATO’s military engagement in Libya. It had begun seven months
earlier, on 22 March, when the NAC responded to the UN Security Council,
whose Resolution 1973 only a few days earlier had authorised member
states and regional organisations to take ‘all necessary measures’ to protect
civilians in Libya, by launching a military operation to enforce the UN
arms embargo against Libya pursuant to UNSC Resolution 1970. A little
more than a week later, NATO launched air strikes to protect civilians and
civilian-populated areas, facilitating the defeat of the Gaddafi regime.
Although it is too early to assess fully the legacies of the 2011 NATO
intervention in Libya, in the eyes of many, NATO has been successful in
demonstrating its utility in a post-Cold War world.
In the wake of the implosion of the Soviet Union, NATO’s significance
was called into question by several observers. In fact, in theoretical terms,
NATO’s persistence after the Cold War was something of a conundrum.
On realist predictions, classical or otherwise, the disappearance of the
Soviet threat should have resulted in the collapse of the NATO alliance.
As Robert McCalla (1996: 452) writes, ‘Both balance-of-threat and
balance-of-power theories on alliances predict the loss of cohesion in
an alliance as, first, the threat posed by and, then, the capability of its
adversaries diminish.’ Most realists expected that the United States would
gradually withdraw from NATO, pursuing less costly forms of international
security cooperation instead. As a result, or so the prediction went, the
international organisation would wither away. Yet nothing of the kind
transpired. Why not? Several explanations are conceivable: First, over the
course of the Cold War, NATO had developed a very strong organisational
structure and organisational culture. The former meant that a great many
‘sunk costs’ had been invested in the international organisation that could
not be recuperated. The latter meant that NATO staff had an inherent
interest in finding ways to keep the alliance relevant despite the absence
of its founding threat.
In other words, once we look past NATO’s military role, we begin to
see that the international organisation has come to play various roles
in addition to that of a security alliance. In ideational terms, NATO had
fostered a common identity among its members. In some respects, the
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alliance morphed into a ‘security community’ (Adler, 2008). As McCalla

(1996: 470) explains, ‘The wider the range of functions that an alliance
fulfills beyond its core defense function, the less responsive it will be to
changes in the threats it faces and the more likely it is to be transformed
in purpose as its external environment changes.’ And this is precisely
what happened in the case of NATO. The incarnation of NATO that took
military action in Libya in 2011 is only superficially the same organisation
as the one that had to come to terms with the end of the Cold War. In
the intervening 20 years, NATO has adapted itself to a radically changed
security environment in the international system. In its 2010 Strategic
Concept, NATO emphasises its role in ‘crisis management’ and ‘cooperative
security’. Also mentioned, under the imperative of combatting existing
and emerging threats is NATO’s concern for such non-traditional security
concerns as terrorism, cyber warfare and energy.
In terms of institutional effects, it is no exaggeration to suggest that NATO
was a most important pillar of European security in the late twentieth
century. Above and beyond its ‘forward defence’ of the continent, NATO
contributed to the formation of a liberal security community in the
North Atlantic. Despite numerous crises in the alliance (for example, the
Soviet missile crisis, the Suez crisis, the Bosnia crisis), the member states
stuck with the international organisation, thus generating an expanding
reservoir of trust. On this argument, institutional resilience in times of
crisis contributes to the staying power of international organisations
(Thies, 2009). This is hardly a negligible achievement for an international
organisation whose original rationale is all but non-existent.
Activity
Looking back from your present vantage point, would you say that NATO enlargement
was a good idea? Set out the arguments for and against.
Institutional origins of the OSCE

Although not as widely known as NATO, the OSCE (Organization for
Security and Cooperation in Europe) is the world’s largest international
organisation operating in the security domain. Originally established as
the Conference for International Security and Co-operation in Europe
(CSCE) in 1973, the OSCE in its current institutional form was born in
the mid-1990s. In 1992, at a meeting of the CSCE’s Council of Ministers,
the post of secretary general was created. During the following year, a
Secretariat opened in Vienna, Austria. And on 1 January 1995, the CSCE
changed its name to OSCE. At that moment, the international institution
of the past became the international organisation of the present. It marked
the culmination of a process of institutionalisation that outfitted this
peculiar regional security arrangement with a permanent bureaucracy and
operational capabilities.
But let us trace the institutional origins in more detail. The OSCE became
possible in the early 1970s during a less confrontational phase of the Cold
War known as détente. During this thawing period, the United States and
the Soviet Union embarked on various multilateral initiatives, including
summit diplomacy and unprecedented international cooperation on
questions of international peace and security. Détente led to the Strategic
Arms Limitation Talks (and eventual Treaty), known as SALT I (which
succeeded) and SALT II (which ultimately failed), the conclusion of the
Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, the adoption of the Biological Weapons
Convention and the negotiation of the Anti-Ballistic Missile Treaty. Of
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equal importance was the outcome of international cooperation regarding

political, economic and human rights matters – the ‘Helsinki Declaration’.
Adopted as the final declaration of the CSCE held in Finland and
Switzerland between 1973 and 1975, the Helsinki Declaration laid out new,
aspirational ground rules for participating states from the East and West.
The 35 states that signed the Helsinki Final Act – the United States, the
Soviet Union, Canada, both Germanies and the rest of capitalist and
communist Europe except Andorra and Albania – committed themselves
to, most important, honouring the territorial integrity of all states,
to refraining from the use of force, to peacefully settling disputes, to
respecting human rights and to recognising the right to self-determination.
Interestingly, the Helsinki Final Act, especially when viewed in retrospect,
derived much of its power and legitimacy from the fact that it was
not binding on any of its signatories. As an international declaration
(comparable to the non-binding 1948 Universal Declaration of Human
Rights) rather than an international treaty, the Helsinki Final Act affected
international politics not so much by imposing legal obligations than by
introducing new moral norms for its conduct. Until the fall of communism,
the CSCE developed into an international forum for furthering ‘generalised
trust’ (Rathbun, 2012) among a subset of important actors in the
international system. It distinguished itself from formalised international
organisations in the security realm such as NATO by emphasising primarily
the importance of process for the evolution of international cooperation.
In the wake of the Cold War, the role of the CSCE needed redefining,
however. Following the 1990 Paris Summit, the Charter of Paris for a New
Europe inaugurated the next phase of the OSCE. It established a Council
to be comprised of all foreign ministers, a Committee of Senior Officials,
a Secretariat (in Prague), a Parliamentary Assembly, a Conflict Prevention
Centre (in Vienna) and an Office for Free Elections (in Warsaw), since
renamed the Office for Democratic Institutions and Human Rights
(ODIHR). The Paris Charter also expanded the activities of the CSCE,
declaring the environment, migrant workers and the Mediterranean to
fall within its purview. In December 1994, finally, the Budapest Summit
decided to change the name of the CSCE to OSCE, turning one of the
longest-running conferences in international politics into one of the most
interesting and flexible international organisations.
Since the re-branding, the OSCE has sought to remain as relevant as the
CSCE had been in the 1970s and 1980s. It has focused on ‘soft’ and ‘hard’
security issues, ranging from human trafficking, elections, education,
and good governance to policing, conflict prevention, arms control and
terrorism. In fact, as far as the latter is concerned, the Council, in 2002,
adopted the OSCE Charter on Preventing and Combating Terrorism
at a meeting in Porto. Additions in the mid-1990s to the institutional
architecture were the Representative on Freedom of the Media (in Vienna)
and the High Commissioner on National Minorities (in The Hague).
How the OSCE works

As a result of the institutional overhaul in the 1990s, the OSCE nowadays
operates very much like many other international organisations. The
OSCE’s figurehead is the chairperson, a position held by a foreign minister
of a member state for one year and on a rotating basis. Together with
the previous and designated next office holder, the chairman forms the
OSCE Troika. Both get their cues from the OSCE Ministerial Council that
meets once a year. Whereas the Chairman and the Troika provide political
95
leadership, the OSCE Secretary General is in charge of daily operations.

He or she draws on the support of the sizeable bureaucracy housed in the
Secretariat, at present consisting of approximately 550 staff. The majority
of the OSCE’s staff – nearly 2,500 – are based in the 16 field operations in
South-Eastern Europe, Eastern Europe, the South Caucasus and Central Asia.
Arguably the most important institutional body is the Permanent Council
(not to be confused with the Ministerial Council), in which the relevant
ambassadors to the OSCE meet at least twice a week. As the OSCE’s most
important political decision-making body, the Permanent Council has the
chief responsibility for responding to all current developments. All military
aspects of the OSCE’s activities, however, are decided in the Forum for
Security Cooperation. As with NATO, decision-making at the OSCE is
consensual and, unlike at the World Bank or IMF, all member states have
equal status. Lastly, there is the Parliamentary Assembly. Formed in 1990,
it counts 317 members from the national parliaments of the OSCE’s 55
participating states as its members. It convenes twice a year and its role
is primarily facilitative. Although it assesses the performance of the OSCE
and monitors the implementation of its activities, its chief function is to
encourage deliberation about matters that arose in any of the other
OSCE organs.
Institutional effects of the OSCE

At its 2010 Astana Summit, the OSCE reaffirmed its commitment to
maintaining a ‘free, democratic, common and indivisible Euro-Atlantic and
Eurasian security community stretching from Vancouver to Vladivostok’.
It is the notion of the ‘security community’ that goes a long way towards
explaining why we should care about the OSCE and its earlier incarnation.
Emanuel Adler and Michael Barnett (1998: 30) have defined a security
community as ‘a transnational region of sovereign states whose people
maintain dependable expectations of peaceful change’. In contrast to
a security alliance, a security community is less about defending its
membership against external threats than about constructing the cognitive
and material structures as well as transnational relations that have the
potential for forming a collective identity – a ‘we-feeling’ – on the part
of participating states. Put differently, whereas the function of security
alliances is chiefly instrumental, the function of security communities
is primarily expressive. Security communities, on this constructivist
argument, provide ‘purpose, meaning, and direction to security relations’
(Adler, 1998: 120).
In the cases at hand, the CSCE was critical for helping a fledgling
European security community to emerge. By emphasising the importance
of the peaceful resolution of disputes, the CSCE highlighted new forms
of international cooperation (for example, ‘conference diplomacy’).
By creating a framework for economic, scientific, environmental, and
other forms of technical cooperation, the CSCE invented the multilateral
institution of ‘seminar diplomacy’. Finally, by facilitating human contacts
and humanitarian exchange across the Cold War divide, the CSCE enabled
a modicum of identification among supposed enemies. It created informal
networks of individuals and civil society groups. Under the Helsinki Final
Act, these three CSCE activities were known as ‘baskets’. As a result of
an interweaving of these baskets, participating states began to think
collectively about their security in Europe. By acquainting representatives
from East and West with one another in all kinds of realm, the CSCE
helped to reduce uncertainty about the intentions of ‘the other’, thus
creating conditions necessary for sustainable, iterative cooperation.
96
If we believe Adler (1998: 132), the OSCE has been instrumental in

consolidating this nascent security community. He points to seven
functions in particular that the international organisation has served in the
post-Cold War world. These are:
• promoting political consultation and bilateral agreements among its
members
• setting and monitoring liberal standards of governance
• designing policies for the prevention of violent conflict
• encouraging the peaceful resolution of disputes
• trust-building through arms control agreements, military transparency,
and international cooperation
• underwriting political and economic reform in newly democratising
states, assisting post-conflict reconstruction and rule of law formation.
The net result, if we believe Adler, has been the development of
transnational identities based on liberal values, especially in the former
Soviet bloc countries. It also speaks to the OSCE’s institutional effects
that NATO in the post-Cold War world adopted the former’s notion of
‘cooperative security’. In fact, NATO, although clearly still a security
alliance, has also grown into a security community along the lines of the
OSCE. As we have seen, NATO has broadened its operational horizon and
is very much attuned to what is sometimes called ‘non-traditional’ security
concerns. What is more, it has mimicked some of the OSCE’s diplomatic
strategies. Here is an example from the context of NATO enlargement.
‘To make the enlargement process more palatable to Russia… NATO
has engaged the latter in cooperative security dialogue, which includes
military, political, economic, and environmental OSCE-like community
building activities’ (Adler, 1998: 143). By taking seriously the constitutive
and identity dimensions of enlargement, NATO sought to allay any Russian
fears about the threat potential of an enlarged security alliance. As Adler
writes, the dialogue’s purpose at the time was:
to persuade Russia that NATO’s enlargement strategy follows the
logic of community. In other words, the aim is to show Russia
that NATO’s expansion to the East is not the threatening act of an
alliance in a balance of power system but the stabilizing action
of a security community attempting to extend its boundaries to
include former enemies.
(Adler, 1998: 143)
Inasmuch as the OSCE’s permanent structures have given it new clout,
critics have also wondered whether the formalisation and the broadening
of responsibilities may have undermined its effectiveness. Furthermore,
in the new millennium, several members of the Commonwealth of
Independent States (CIS), notably Russia, have charged that the OSCE was
playing handmaiden to Western interests. Among other allegations, they
claimed that the international organisation was unduly concerned with
human rights violations in CIS states as well as in the former Yugoslavia,
ignoring the human rights record of Western OSCE member states. A
closer look reveals that the suggestion of an OSCE bias is misplaced.
Despite a series of weaknesses when it comes to delivery, the OSCE has
come to play an indispensable role in such areas as democracy promotion,
election monitoring, and minority protection in the new Europe.
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Activity
Find out about the IR debate regarding the changing nature of ‘security’ in international
politics. What is at stake in this debate, and how does it help to illuminate the operation
of regional and international security institutions in the post-Cold War world?
Conclusion
This chapter has sketched the history and theory of NATO and the OSCE.
also provided an overview of their operating procedures. Furthermore,
we inquired into the institutional effects of both NATO and the OSCE,
drawing attention in particular to the contribution of institutionalist and
constructivist approaches for explaining their respective contributions
to the international politics of Europe. By so doing, we have compared
and contrasted the concepts of the ‘security alliance’ and the ‘security
community’.

• describe similarities and differences between NATO and the OSCE
knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of NATO and the OSCE as actors in

1. Is NATO still relevant?
2. What is a ‘security community’ and how relevant is it for explaining
international politics?
3. Evaluate the effectiveness of the OSCE as an international organisation.
98
Chapter 10: European Communities (1957) and the EU (1992)
Chapter 10: European Communities

(1957) and the EU (1992)

This chapter introduces you to the theory, history and practice of EC and
the EU. In addition to acquainting you with basic facts about the evolution
and operation of each of these international organisations, the chapter
brings theoretical insights from the previous chapters to bear on the
empirical material. By so doing, it illustrates the utility of using theory to
interrogate history, and of using history to interrogate theory.
• describe similarities and differences between the EC and the EU
knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of the EC and the EU as actors in
Essential reading
Moravcsik, Andrew ‘Preferences and Power in the European Community: An
Intergovernmentalist Approach’, Journal of Common Market Studies, 31(4)
(December 1993), pp.473–524.
Hooghe, Liesbet ‘Several Roads Lead to International Norms, but Few Via
International Socialization: A Case Study of the European Commission’,
International Organization, 59(4) (October 2005), pp.861–898.
Further reading
Alter, Karen J. Establishing the Supremacy of European Law: The Making of
an International Rule of Law in Europe. (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2003).
Bache, Ian and Stephen George Politics in the European Union. (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2011) second edition.
Checkel, Jeffrey T. (ed.) International Institutions and Socialization in Europe.
Craig, Paul and Gráinne de Búrca (eds) The Evolution of EU Law. (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2011) second edition.
Curtin, Deirdre Executive Power of the European Union: Law, Practices, and the
Living Constitution. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009).
Haas, Ernst B. The Uniting of Europe: Political, Social and Economic Forces,
1950–1957. (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2003).
Hill, Christopher International Relations and the EU. (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2011) fourth edition.
Majone, Giandomenico Europe as the Would-Be World Power: The EU at Fifty.
Marks, Gary, Liesbeth Hooghe and Kermit Blank ‘European Integration from
the 1980s: State-Centric vs. Multi-Level Governance’, Journal of Common
Market Studies, 34(3) (September 1996), pp.341–78.
99
Meyer, Christoph O. ‘Convergence Towards a European Strategic Culture?

A Constructivist Framework for Explaining Changing Norms’, European
Journal of International Relations, 11(4) (December 2005), pp.523–49.
Moravcsik, Andrew The Choice for Europe: Social Purpose and State Power from
Messina to Maastricht. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1998).
Parsons, Craig ‘Showing Ideas as Causes: The Origins of the European Union’,
International Organization, 56(1) (Winter 2002), pp.47−84.
Pollack, Mark A. The Engines of European Integration: Delegation, Agency, and
Agenda Setting in the EU. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003).
Risse, Thomas A Community of Europeans? Transnational Identities and Public
Spheres. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2010).
Schimmelfennig, Frank and Sedelmeier, Ulrich ‘Theorising EU Enlargement:
Research Focus, Hypotheses, and the State of Research’, Journal of European
Public Policy, 9(4) (August 2002), pp.500–28.
Tsebelis, George and Geoffrey Garrett ‘The Institutional Foundations of
Intergovernmentalism and Supranationalism in the European Union’,
Walker, Neil The Past and Future of the European Constitution. (Oxford: Oxford
Wiener, Antje and Thomas Diez (eds) European Integration Theory. (Oxford:
Introduction
This chapter, like all the other empirical chapters, traces the institutional
origins, effects, and futures of a paired set of international organisations.
In this case, I compare and contrast the institutional development of
the EC and the EU. In addition to outlining their basic organisational
frameworks, I inquire into the power, politics, and pathologies of what
is arguably the world’s most complex international organisation. More
specifically, the chapter explores the role of international organisations
in the creation and maintenance of regional integration. I begin by
considering the institutional origins of the EC. I then provide an overview
of its organisational structure and examine its institutional effects. I
subsequently repeat this analytical three-step for the EU. Although I
discuss the origins, development and consequences of the EC and EU
separately, it is important to appreciate that the two do not actually
constitute separate international organisations. The EC and EU simply
mark different developmental periods of the same supranational
organisation. And yet, for the purpose of this subject guide, it is beneficial
to examine them sequentially, to treat them as if they were two distinctive
international organisations. A final section concludes.
Institutional origins of the EC

The beginnings of what today is the EU are inexorably intertwined with
the devastation that the Second World War had brought to Europe. Having
to respond to a wide range of political, economic and related challenges,
many of Europe’s newly elected, left-leaning governments were debating
the promise of a federal Europe so as to hold in check the spectre of
nationalism that, in the estimation of many, had been causally related to
the rise of fascism across the continent. In 1949, 10 countries (Belgium,
Denmark, France, Ireland, Italy, Luxembourg, Norway, the Netherlands,
the United Kingdom and Sweden) therefore created the Council of
Europe (COE). Although never a part of either the EC or the EU, the
COE as a separate intergovernmental organisation in Europe oversaw the
100
drafting of the European Convention of Human Rights (1950) as well as

the establishment of the Commission of Human Rights (1954) and the
European Court of Human Rights (1959). As such, it launched Europe’s
rather successful human rights regime. At the same time, the Council of
Europe gave important impetus to the idea of an integrated Europe.
An intervening development was the Cold War. The rise in tensions
between the United States and the Soviet Union caused anxiety
throughout Western Europe. On top of this, various European countries
were fearful of Germany’s renewed rise. But most important in terms of
the institutional origins of European integration was the push for greater
economic integration so as to make the continent’s reconstruction and
development work. In this context, Robert Schuman, the foreign minister
of France at the time, proposed that a select number of Western European
countries united economically in key domains. His ultimate design
encompassed all aspects of Western Europe’s economic space, but what
was quickly dubbed the ‘Schuman Plan’ proposed to begin with ‘solidarity
in production’. The two most critical sectors for key countries were coal
and steel because these raw materials were key during the industrial re-
equilibration of Europe.
The post-war situation was such that some countries had an abundance
of steel but a shortage of coal (for example, France), and other countries
faced the opposite predicament. Hence the idea to ‘pool’ Western
Europe’s coal and steel reserves. Schuman focused initially on Franco-
German exchange, but Italy and the so-called Benelux states (Belgium,
the Netherlands and Luxembourg) came aboard as well. Only the
United Kingdom was not interested. The British government did not
want to tie its economy to those of France and Germany, nor did it think
it was economically as poorly off as the continent. After a great deal
of bargaining and international facilitation by the United States, the
Schuman Plan found institutional expression in the creation, by way of
the 1951 Paris Treaty, of the European Coal and Steel Community (ECSC).
The ECSC was a first step on the road to integration. Also important were
the largely forgotten (because they ultimately failed) negotiations over
the creation of a European Defence Community. Although NATO won out
over this contending institutional design for the provision of European
security, the bargaining further entrenched the European idea. Germany,
France, Italy, the Netherlands, Belgium and Luxembourg were the initial
subscribers to the idea.
In the 1950s and 1960s, several scholars sought to make sense of the
dynamics of integration that the ECSC had set in motion, among them
Leon Lindberg and Ernst Haas. With the publication of The Uniting
of Europe in 1958, Haas emphasised the centrality of international
organisations in furthering ‘integration’, which he defined as ‘the process
whereby political actors in several distinct national settings are persuaded
to shift their loyalties, expectations and political activities towards a new
centre, whose institutions possess or demand jurisdiction over the pre-
existing national states’ (Haas, 1958). Lindberg and Haas’s explanatory
approach to European integration gave rise to a theoretical perspective
that became known as ‘neo-functionalism’. In keeping with the times,
which were characterised by the rise of behaviouralism (namely, explicitly
scientific reasoning) in political science, neo-functionalists sought to
develop a general theory about the conditions under which states opt to
transfer sovereignty to an international organisation, be it regional or
universal in orientation.
101
Among other things, neo-functionalists (unlike liberal IR scholars) believed

that integration was a self-reinforcing process that, once under way, would
continue to broaden and deepen. Haas and other neo-functionalists focused
on multiple, diverse and changing actors (especially non-state actors) in
accounting for integration outcomes. Of particular significance were actors
that had not previously been theorised in the IR literature: elites. In fact,
neo-functionalism posits that incremental decision-making by these elites
(governmental or otherwise) leads to increasing returns or so-called positive-
sum games. Over time, argued Haas, the process of integration thus becomes
self-reinforcing. It leads to what he famously called ‘spillover effects’.
The concept of spillover is at the heart of neo-functionalism. Simply
put, it connotes that integration in one domain will create incentives
for integration in another domain, and so forth, thereby keeping the
momentum of integration going and spreading it. It is possible to
distinguish, at the most elementary level, between functional and political
spillover effects. When speaking of functional spillover, the emphasis is on
sector integration via the pressure of economic interdependence. The most
important empirical example, which also provided much of the impetus
behind the theoretical development of neo-functionalism, is the ECSC. On
a neo-functionalist reading, the functional integration in the economically
salient areas of coal and steel spilled over into the political domain, where
it manifested itself in terms of institution-building (for example, the
European Parliament, the European Court of Justice).
The next major institutional juncture for the European project was the
adoption of the so-called Rome Treaties in 1957 that established two
additional organisations, namely the European Atomic Energy Community
(EURATOM) and the European Economic Community (EEC). Together, the
three formed the ‘European Communities’. (In the 1980s, the plural form
was dropped, and the tripartite supranational organisation became known
simply as the European Community.) The Rome Treaties also sought to
ease decision-making among the members of the emerging community by
creating four organs: the European Commission, a Council of Ministers,
the European Parliament and the European Court of Justice. Despite the
so-called ‘empty chair’ crisis of July 1965 (when French President Charles
de Gaulle withdrew from the Council of Ministers over concerns about a
proposed strengthening of the European Parliament and Commission), the
institutional development of the supranational organisation (now called
the European Community) proceeded, albeit in fits and starts.
In 1962, for example, the EC launched a common agricultural policy that
gave the international organisation control over food production in EU
member states. The objective was to take multilateral precautions so that
Europe would never again experience the kinds of extreme food shortages
that all countries in Western Europe had endured during the war and the
immediate post-war years. The results were EC-wide subsidies for farm
products (all farmers were paid the same) and the centralised purchasing
of agricultural surpluses. In 1973, the six founding members of the EC
became nine during the first enlargement of the regional organisation.
Now Denmark, Ireland and the United Kingdom were part of the growing
community. Greece became a member state in 1981, and a mere five years
later in 1986 newly democratising Portugal and Spain joined, bringing the
number of EC member states to 12.
Another milestone came in the form of the Single European Act (SEA),
in 1986. Under Jacques Delors, the European Commission began a
campaign for creating an internal market devoid of non-tariff barriers for
102
EC member states. The proposal was radical in that it had major political
and economic and [legal] implications and institutional consequences.
Politically, it meant that member states would delegate important powers
to the EC organs. Economically, many companies embraced the free trade
opportunities that the SEA created. It also meant significant institutional
reforms. Most important, it introduced qualified majority voting (QMV) into
the Council of Ministers. As a result, individual member states had fewer
mechanisms by which to reject progress. Without their veto, the integration
process was freed up. The SEA also increased the legislative power of the
European Parliament (EP). Whereas previously the European Commission
had to merely consult the EP, the SEA provided for a so-called cooperation
procedure (of which more below). Finally, the SEA created a policy space
for the EC in the areas of the environment and social protection.
Although its implementation process was initially slow, the SEA marked an
important juncture in the transition from EC to EU.
How the EC worked

As previously mentioned, the principal EC institutions were established in
the Rome Treaties in the mid-twentieth century. Following the so-called
Merger Treaty of 1965, the three European Communities (namely, the
ECSC, EEC and EURATOM) started to be governed by unified organs. On
1 July 1967, when the legislation entered into force, the major institutions
of the EC became the European Commission, the Council of Ministers,
the European Parliament and the European Court of Justice. Up until the
SEA, the institutional design of these organs and their powers did not
drastically change.
The European Parliament (initially called the European Parliamentary
Assembly) started out with 142 members. It met annually and in
extraordinary sessions. After the first enlargement of the EC, in 1973, the
number rose to 198. In 1974, the member states decided to introduce
direct parliamentary elections in an attempt to shore up domestic support
for the integration process. The first such elections were held in 1979 and
filled 410 seats. The EP’s influence was indirect and never critical. Its role,
as envisaged by the member states, was purely advisory. Yet members
of the European Parliament (MEPs) began using their right to question,
orally and in writing, the Commission and Council of Ministers. Although
not decisive, this gave the EP a modicum of authority. Another avenue of
influence was the consultative procedure that under the Rome Treaties
forced the Commission and the Council of Ministers to seek the assembly’s
opinion with regard to particular forms of executive action. The EP also
acquired modest budgetary powers in 1975. Henceforth, it was in charge
of non-obligatory expenditures, and it had to approve the Commission’s
budget for obligatory expenses.
As the foregoing makes clear, for the duration of the EC’s history, the
European Commission, in conjunction with the Council of Ministers, was
chiefly responsible for administering and advancing European integration
– and largely at the expense of the EP. Pursuant to the Rome Treaties,
the Commission was made up of 17 commissioners (when the EC had 12
member states), all of which were appointed by the member states. Its key
functions were:
• policy formulation
• treaty monitoring
• policy execution.
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The Council of Ministers, which included one representative from

each member state, aided the Commission, especially in the context of
proposals. In many respects, the two institutions formed a dual executive:
the Commission had the exclusive right of initiative; the Council of
Ministers the power to reject a Commission proposal (with a two-thirds
majority of weighted votes) as well as amend it (only unanimously). In
practice this meant that the Commission and Council would early on
begin to coordinate in the making of EC policy. Very quickly, the Western
European member states began to use this forum to fashion deeper and
broader regional cooperation.
As mentioned, the SEA in 1986 increased the competencies of the EC
as whole. Against strong British opposition, the SEA wrestled a not
insignificant amount of power away from the member states. As previously
mentioned Delors pushed for the liberalisation of European markets as an
end in itself but also as a means to the end of an ever-closer union. In the
wake of the SEA, the EP began to grow in confidence, and the European
Commission to expand its reach and regain its confidence. This confidence
was largely lost in the period spanning the early 1970s and 1980s. During
what is sometimes called the ‘Dark Ages’ of European integration, the
European Commission came to be beholden to national governments. This
was a result of the so-called Luxembourg Compromise of 1966, which was
struck so as to persuade de Gaulle’s France to rejoin the other five founding
members of the EC in the governing of Europe. Return it did, but at a
price: De Gaulle demanded – and received – a pledge that member states
would retain their right to veto any and all Commission proposals that they
deemed incompatible with their respective national interest. Put differently,
France blocked the institutional strengthening of the European Commission,
ensuring its subordination across the board to the will of domestic politics.
Andrew Moravcsik (1998: 233), writing from the theoretical perspective
of liberal intergovernmentalism, puts it thus: ‘When proposals displeased
governments, national leaders simply revised them or circumvented the
Commission entirely, often ignoring its formal powers.’ It is important
to appreciate in this context that the Commission at the time of the
Luxembourg Compromise employed barely 2,500 officials. Its bureaucratic
expertise and wherewithal, in other words, stood in no relation to the
Commission today, which has in its employ more than ten times as many
staff.
Finally, the European Court of Justice (ECJ) bears mentioning. Like
so many things, the ECJ had its origins in the ECSC. Once turned into
the ECJ, the court began to play an increasingly important role in the
furtherance of European integration. Over the course of the EC, the
ECJ established the supremacy of European law (Alter, 2001). Run by
one judge per EC country (who serve six-year terms) and a handful of
‘advocates-general’, the ECJ’s jurisprudence has gradually but consistently
expanded the reach of the EC into the domestic politics of member
states. More specifically, in its 1963 Van Gend en Loos decision, the ECJ
established the principle of ‘direct effect’, which was of revolutionary
import for the emerging, supranational legal order of Europe. The case,
which pitted a Dutch company against the Dutch government over the
taxation of formaldehyde, caused the ECJ to assert that with the EC a
new legal order had come into existence, and one in which citizens (and
companies and organisations) could claim, in Luxembourg, rights against
their own governments.
104
Another ECJ judgment from the early years that very much paved the way
for the EU of the twenty-first century was the 1964 ruling in Costa v ENEL.
In this case, the details of which need not concern us here, the ECJ for the
first time asserted the principle of the supremacy of EC law over national
law. It came as a surprise to many governments who, like the British one,
for example, deemed their Parliament, not the EC, sovereign. As we shall
see below, the dismay in EC member states about the ECJ’s often radical
jurisprudence grew more intense – and numerous. Over time, the ECJ
came to deal primarily with five types of cases. These were:
• requests for a preliminary ruling (for example, a national court requests
the ECJ to clarify a point of EC law)
• actions for failure to fulfil a legal obligation (for example, a case
brought against a EC member state for having failed to apply EC law)
• proceedings for annulment (for example, the ECJ strikes down
provisions in European legislation that violate EC treaties or
fundamental rights)
• actions for failure to act (for example, proceedings against EC
institutions or agencies for failing to make decisions legally required of
them)
• direct actions (for example, cases brought directly by individuals,
companies, organisations against EC decisions or actions).
Activity
Was the process of European integration primarily about the prevention of war or the
production of wealth?
Institutional effects of the EC

In light of the political upheaval in twentieth-century Europe prior to the
creation of the EC, it is not only remarkable that the project of European
integration took off, but even more so that it became sustainable, even
profitable for some of the countries who signed on to it. In retrospect,
the period from the ECSC to the Single European Act marked the
consolidation of the EC. Despite setbacks such as the Luxembourg
Compromise and the economic challenges of the 1970s following a global
oil crisis, the EC as an international organisation deepened and broadened.
It grew deeper in the sense that its institutional architecture became more
elaborate and authoritative, reaching deeper into the domestic politics
of EC member states. It grew broader in the sense that an ever-growing
slice of European politics and society fell within the purview of regional
integration on the continent. Over the course of less than 40 years, a set of
countries that had gone to war with one another twice in the same century
not only avoided another violent confrontation but also established an
entirely new way of making democracy work. In fact, they established
a political system sui generis – part international organisation and part
superstate.
Under the tutelage of the institutions of the EC, Germany consolidated
its post-war democracy, as did Greece, Portugal and Spain. Scholars have
found that EC membership had a more than random effect on these
transitions from authoritarian rule. In a related development, beginning
with the ECSC and then the EEC, the process of European integration
proved enormously beneficial to Europe’s economies, albeit in different
105
ways and to different degrees. This being so, some theoretical explanations
of European integration point to the centrality of state power and
preferences (Moravcsik, 1998). Known as liberal intergovernmentalism,
this account suggests that despite neo-functionalism (see Chapter 4 of
this subject guide), the institutional development of the EC from the
Schuman Plan to the Single European Act was less the result of functional
or political spillover, but rather the result of a logic of consequences
adopted by domestic elites in Europe’s capitals. Hence the title of Andrew
Moravcsik’s important yet controversial book: The Choice for Europe.
If we believe Moravcsik, integration outcomes reflect the relative power
of states within the international system. Countries’ choices for (or
against) Europe, on this argument, were responses to the constraints or
opportunities (especially economic ones) that their governments faced at
home and in the world. As Moravcsik (1993: 517) writes:
The liberal intergovernmentalist view seeks to account for
major decisions in the history of the EC by positing a two-stage
process. In the first stage, national preferences are primarily
determined by the constraints and opportunities imposed by
economic interdependence. In the second stage, the outcomes of
intergovernmental negotiations are determined by the relative
bargaining power of governments and the functional incentives
for institutionalization created by high transaction costs and the
desire to control domestic agendas. This argument is grounded
in fundamental concepts of international political economy,
negotiation analysis, and regime theory.
If one believed this state-centric explanation of European integration up
until the introduction of the single market, one could summarise some of
the EC’s institutional effects as follows. Aside from enabling cooperation
across a whole host of specific issue areas, ‘the EC institutions increase[d]
the efficiency of bargaining by providing a set of passive, transaction-cost
reducing rules’ (Moravcsik, 1993: 517).
If, on the other hand, one were sceptical of such instrumental reasoning,
one could assume a constructivist perch from which to reflect on the
EC’s institutional effects. From such a vantage point, a different universe
of contributions comes to mind. In such an account, the focus would
be on, say, the fact that 40 years of integration generated a new level
of ‘Europeanness’. Here the focus is on the logic of appropriateness.
Constructivists interested in Europe, such as Thomas Risse (2010) and
Jeffrey Checkel (2007), are concerned with the constitutive (rather than
causal) effects of regional integration. This research programme, which
we will not consider in depth here, has unearthed evidence that, in many
instances, the institutionalisation of the EC was not primarily about the
maximisation of preferences but about the realisation of norms and values.
Put differently, EC membership mattered also because it shaped the ways
in which states (or sub-state actors) saw themselves. Even a cursory review
of the trials and tribulations of the EC in the period 1957–1986 makes
clear that the unorthodox international organisation at the heart of Europe
had a large hand in securing the continent’s transition from war to peace.
Institutional origins of the EU

The Treaty on European Union (TEU), frequently referred to as the Treaty
of Maastricht, was signed on 7 February 1992. One year later, in the
wake of this far-reaching piece of supranational legislation, hundreds
of technical, legal and administrative barriers fell by the wayside when
106
the EU’s internal or ‘single’ market is established. The adjective ‘single’

highlights the fact that due to this major institutional change people,
goods, services and money can now move around as freely on the territory
of the EU as they do in a domestic setting. These are known as the ‘four
freedoms’.
The Treaty of Maastricht re-imagined the institutional architecture, placing
it on three ‘pillars’, namely:
• the already existing European Communities (namely, the ECSC, EEC
and EURATOM)
• a Common Foreign and Security Policy (CFSP)
• Justice and Home Affairs (JAH).
Whereas matters arising under the first pillar continued to be subject to EC
voting procedures and modes of decision-making, matters arising under
the second and third pillars would be governed by consensus among the
member states. In institutional terms, the Maastricht Treaty was significant
because it carved out a greater role and more power for the European
Parliament (EP), of which more in the next section. It also established a
Committee of the Regions in recognition of the growing importance of sub-
national politics, and it introduced the concept of European citizenship. In
policy terms, the TEU became subject to a great deal of scorn because it
put monetary union (and thus a common currency) on the agenda.
A de jure amendment to the Treaty of Rome, the Treaty of Amsterdam,
effectively ‘replaced’ the Treaty of Maastricht in 1997. On the road to
Amsterdam (which led via a so-called Intergovernmental Conference that
deliberated the idea and implications of eastern enlargement of the EU),
new details about the nature of monetary integration emerged. It was
resolved that a European Central Bank (ECB) would be created and based
in Frankfurt, and the currency to be placed under its tutelage would be
called the Euro. The Treaty of Amsterdam itself was a modest affair. It
failed to tackle necessary institutional reforms (although it expanded the
EP’s co-decision authority) and was content with honing the legislative
foundations. In 1998 and 2000, the EU embarked on membership
negotiations with ten countries in East Central Europe, namely Bulgaria,
the Czech Republic, Estonia, Hungary, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Romania,
Slovakia and Slovenia. Negotiations were also started with Cyprus and
Malta. Similarly noteworthy was, on 1 January 1999, the introduction of
the Euro (albeit only for commercial and financial transactions) in 11 EU
member states.
Next came the Treaty of Nice, in 2001. It, too, was a transitional treaty,
like the Treaty of Amsterdam. Although it took the IGC 11 months to adopt
the international treaty, it is widely seen as surprisingly thin on substance.
Arguments about voting procedures and weights caused particular strain.
Although the veto was struck from 29 out of 70 Treaty provisions, various
countries balked at removing the mechanism from decision-making in
sensitive areas such as tax and social security (the UK insisted on retaining
the veto); trade in audio-visual services, education and health (France);
maritime transport (Denmark, Greece), and so-called cohesion funds
(Spain, Portugal, Greece). In areas in which qualified majority voting
(QMV) became operational (the Treaty of Nice expanded the voting
method to 30 new areas), the larger states achieved an advantage by way
of electoral reform. The ‘re-weighting’, which took effect on 1 January
2005, ‘left the small and medium-sized states with a smaller percentage of
the total vote relative to the larger states than under the previous system’
(Bache and George, 2006: 197). Having said that, it must not be forgotten
107
that the Treaty of Nice made possible the accession of 10 new EU member
states, which took place on 1 May 2004. Aside from Cyprus and Malta,
the Czech Republic, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Hungary, Poland, Slovenia
and Slovakia joined the exclusive club. Bulgaria, Romania and Turkey
remained candidates for enlargement.
One of the most ambitious – and disastrous – undertakings by member
states was the attempt to constitutionalise the European Union. The 2004
Constitutional Treaty was the outcome of a Constitutional Convention
that had taken up its work in 2001. Even without enlargement it was
very much apparent to everyone involved in the European project that
the institutional architecture of the EU, most of which dated back to the
ECSC, was woefully inadequate for governing the continent effectively
in the twenty-first century. Also partially in response to the lacklustre
Treaty of Nice, the member states’ heads of government resolved, in
December 2001, that a major overhaul, replete with popular legitimation,
of the institutional structure of the EU was in order. Needless to say, the
trappings of the constitution-making process at this supranational level
were very much reminiscent of constitution-making in domestic settings,
which is probably why Eurosceptics were quick to point out the spectre
of a European ‘superstate’. The European constitution was designed to
streamline decision-making and, among other innovations, create the
position of an EU foreign minister. Alas, the ratification process, which
demanded domestic approval (either by parliaments or publics) in all 25
member states, was unsuccessful. Although Hungary, Latvia, Slovenia and
Spain voted in favour, referenda in France and the Netherlands failed. In
response to these serious misgivings in two key countries, the EU put the
project on hold and declared a ‘period of reflection’.
The constitutional failure, and the popular disenchantment with the EU
in many member states more generally, plunged the continent into a deep
integration crisis. This notwithstanding, European leaders pressed on.
On 1 January 2007, Bulgaria and Romania joined the EU, and Croatia,
Macedonia and Turkey become ever more serious candidates for future
membership. (Croatia and Turkey had started accession negotiations in
2005, in the same year that Macedonia became an official candidate for
EU membership.) Later that year, the now 27 EU member states signed
the Treaty of Lisbon, which entered into force in December 2009. The
treaty abolished the three-pillar structure of Maastricht, introducing a
single legal personality instead. It also endeavoured to make the EU more
democratic and efficient, and thus more effective. An example of this move
is the incorporation of the Charter of Fundamental Rights. An expression
of an increased concern for political rights and civil liberties, the document
provided the EU with its own catalogue of enforceable civil, political,
economic and social rights. Crucially, these rights became legally binding
not only on the EU, but also on the international organisation’s member
states themselves. Simply put, the Treaty of Lisbon elevated the core
principles of the EU: democracy, rule of law, human rights and fundamental
freedoms, respect for human dignity, and equality and solidarity. I will
address some of the institutional reforms in the following section.
How the EU works

All of the principal EC organs discussed above are still in place in the
EU. But their roles and powers have evolved. What is more, the various
aforementioned EU treaties introduced additional institutions and
agencies. In terms of organisational change, the Treaty of Lisbon altered
108
the composition of the European Parliament, capping the number of MEPs

at 751. Nowadays, the EP represents some 370 million EU citizens. Next,
the decision-making procedure in the Council of the European Union
(what used to be called the Council of Ministers, not to be confused with
either the European Council, a EU institution that hosts the heads of state
and government, or the previously mentioned Council of Europe, a non-EU
institution founded in 1949 and home to the European Court of Human
Rights) underwent a change. As of 2014, the Council, which represents the
EU member governments, will be required to reach decisions by ‘double
majority’ voting. In practice, this means that the adoption of EU legislation
requires double legitimation. Proposed EU laws must garner a 55 per
cent majority of the EU governments represented in the Council, and this
majority must represent at least 65 per cent of the EU’s total population. If
such a ‘double majority’ is absent, the new legislation will fail.
Staying with the topic of decision-making, a quick word on the so-called
ordinary legislative procedure, what used to be known as the ‘co-decision
procedure’. Most laws and regulations in most policy areas (from the
budget, to fisheries, to structural funds, to justice and home affairs) are
adopted pursuant to the ordinary legislation procedure. This was the
result of a steady expansion of EP power over the years. Once a very
marginal and subordinate player in EU politics, the EP is almost on eye
level with the Commission and Council. Here is a quick description of
how the procedure works as per Article 294 of the Treaty of Lisbon. The
procedure starts with a proposal from the Commission that is transmitted
to both the Council of the European Union and the EP. During the stage
of the so-called first reading, the EP adopts a position on the proposed
legislation and communicates it to the Council. If the Council approves the
EP position, the legislation is adopted as proposed by the EP. If the Council
disagrees with the EP, it must adopt its own position and communicate it
to the EP. The Commission, too, will take a stance and let the EP know its
position. The EP then has three months to complete its stage of the second
reading. If the EP approves the Council position or takes no action, the
Council position becomes law. If a majority of MEPs reject the Council
position, the legislation fails. If an EP majority proposes amendments to
the Council position at its second reading, the revised legislation returns to
the Council (and the Commission) for the second reading to begin there.
The Council has three months to:
• approve all amendments by a qualified majority (in the event that the
Commission’s reading was positive)
• approve all amendments unanimously (in the event that the
Commission’s reading was negative)
• not approve all of the amendments.
In the first two scenarios, the law will count as adopted. In the third
scenario, the President of the Council (in coordination with the President
of the EP) will, within six weeks, transfer the contested legislation to the
so-called Conciliation Committee (CC). The CC consists of the EU’s Council
representatives and an equal number of MEPs. In these cases, the body
has six weeks to formulate a joint text based on the submissions from the
second-reading stage of the legislative process. If the CC cannot agree on
a joint text, the act is not adopted. If the CC does agree on a text, a third
reading will get underway. For this to happen, a qualified majority of the
Council representatives on the CC must vote in favour of the joint text as
well as a simple majority of the EP representatives. The Commission is
meant to play the role of arbiter in the CC deliberations. In the aftermath
109
of CC approval, the joint text is referred to the full Council and EP for
a third reading. Both have six weeks to come to a final decision on the
proposed legislation in question. For the modified act to pass, a majority of
MEPs and a qualified majority of Council members must vote in favour.
Turning from procedures back to institutions, a noteworthy (if still
fledgling) innovation was the creation of the European External Action
Service, or EEAC. Staffed by civil servants from the Commission, the
General Secretariat of the Council and the diplomatic corps of EU member
states, the EEAC was established in 2010 as a bureaucratic apparatus for
the new High Representative of the European Union for Foreign Affairs
and Security Policy, the EU’s quasi-foreign minister. Since November 2009,
Catherine Ashton from the United Kingdom has been holding the position.
The objective underpinning the invention of the High Representative
in the Treaty of Lisbon was to ensure greater consistency, coordination,
and relevance of EU foreign policy (which for political reasons is
euphemistically known in EU-speak as ‘external action’).
Finally, there is the European Central Bank (ECB). It was created in
the Treaty of Amsterdam and is based in Frankfurt, Germany. Since 1
January 1999, the ECB has been administering and driving the monetary
policy for the 17 EU member states of the so-called Eurozone, by which
is meant the geographical space occupied by the countries that adopted
the Euro as their currency. (In 2012, the Eurozone comprised Austria,
Belgium, Cyprus, Estonia, Finland, France, Germany, Greece, Ireland, Italy,
Luxembourg, Malta, the Netherlands, Portugal, Slovakia, Slovenia and
Spain.) The ECB’s principal objective is to ensure price stability, namely,
to maintain the value of the Euro vis-à-vis other currencies such as the
US dollar and the Japanese yen, and the monitoring of national banking
systems. Within the span of a decade, the ECB became one of the most
influential central banks in the world. This is not entirely surprising, for
the Eurozone represents the world’s second largest economy, topped only
by the United States. And despite the woes of the Euro, and the Greek
crisis of 2011 (which is still ongoing as this guide goes to press), the ECB
has proved an important engine of financial integration. In an attempt
to ward off the worst consequences of the global financial crisis (which
had resulted from the so-called 2008 subprime mortgage crisis in the
United States), the EU incorporated, in May 2010, the European Financial
Stability Facility (EFSF), headquartered in Luxembourg.
Activity
It is sometimes said that the European Union suffers from a ‘democratic deficit’?
Do you agree?
Institutional effects of the EU

The institutional effects of the EU were even more far-reaching than those
of the EC – and herein lay the problem for the international organisation.
For it was in the wake of the 1992 Treaty of Amsterdam that popular
resistance to the European project began to grow in member countries.
Whereas previously the most serious crises played out chiefly at the elite
level, in the 1990s the neologism ‘Euroscepticism’ entered the discourse
about the newly created EU. In many respects this backlash was an
institutional effect of the remarkable success and continuous development
of the maturing polity. In 2010, the EU generated an estimated 20 per
cent of the world’s GDP. Eurosceptics tend to heap scorn either on the
supposedly overblown Brussels bureaucracy or find fault with specific
110
powers or policies that threaten the sovereignty of member states. Indeed

it is undeniable that the further institutionalisation of the EU after
Maastricht, despite many hiccups along the way, has caused member
states to delegate more authority to the European Commission and other
EU organs. It stands to reason that concerns about this creeping ‘power
shift’ were one of the contributing factors to the failure of the 2004
Constitutional Treaty.
This notwithstanding, it bears emphasising that the Single European Act
created both incentives – and improved institutional mechanisms – for a
proliferation of new legislative initiatives. The expansion of competencies
for the EU meant that domestic politics and society in member states came
to be increasingly structured by the politics of the EU. It is worthwhile
to briefly outline the extent of the EU’s involvement in different policy
areas. The EU has almost exclusive authority to govern in the areas of
external trade, competition policy, commercial policy, agriculture and
fisheries (including the conservation of marine biological resources. Ever
since the introduction of the Euro, monetary policy has also become a
core EU function (at least for members of the Eurozone). The EU plays
an important (but not exclusive) role in policy-making concerning the
environment, regional policy, occupational health and safety, the internal
market, tobacco control, energy, cross-border crime, development aid,
transport and research and development. A lesser role is reserved for the
EU, for example, in the areas of taxation, defence, foreign policy, social
policy and general health care. Regardless of various overtures and much
touted institutional change (say, the creation of the European External
Action Service), EU member states continue to guard very carefully their
sovereign powers in these areas. For few attributes have historically been
as closely associated with sovereign statehood as:
• the ability to raise taxes
• the ability to defend one’s borders
• the ability to engage in diplomatic relations.
Other areas that have not yet been penetrated by the EU include primary
and secondary education (although there has been progress in the
harmonisation of higher education across the EU), housing policy, and
culture.
Because the complexity and sheer size of the EU prohibits a comprehensive
discussion of its institutional effects, we return to the theoretical study of
international organisations. With the help of the EU, I want to illustrate
the concept of ‘socialisation’. As explained in Chapter 5 of this subject
guide, constructivist IR scholars have put a great deal of stock in the
notion. More specifically, one frequently encounters in this literature the
assumption that an international organisation can socialise those who
work within it. Some scholars have shown that international organisations
such as the UN or the World Bank, for a whole host of reasons, sometimes
serve to induct their staff members into particular ways of seeing the
world. On these arguments, individuals take on the norms and values
of a given international organisation as a result of their time spent in it,
namely, as a result of socialisation. Liesbet Hooghe (2005), a long-time
student of the EU, decided to put these theoretical propositions to the test.
With the help of surveys that she conducted with altogether 198 top
officials at the European Commission, Hooghe arrived at rather interesting
findings. She reports that top officials appear to be more pro-European
than either national elites or national publics. Yet, if we believe Hooghe,
their pro-European norms did not originate in the European Commission
111
but were the result of national socialisation instead. This is so, says
Hooghe, because the Commission, despite its distinctive culture, is a
relatively open EU organ that constantly engages other EU institutions as
well as member states.
Openness comes at a price: it diminishes the Commission’s
control over its officials, and induces these people to tap
additional loyalties. Hence, even in an international organization
as powerful as the Commission, one finds that national norms,
originating in prior experiences in national ministries, loyalty
to national political parties, or diffuse national political
socialization, decisively shape top officials’ views on European
norms.
(Hooghe 2005: 888)
What is the import of this for the question of the EU’s institutional effects
more generally?
Hooghe’s study is relevant because it underlines yet again the
importance of integrating theory and history in the study of international
organisations. Although it is entirely plausible that the European
Commission has a decisive effect on identity formation in the case of its
staff, it is essential to take a closer, analytical look before we jump to
conclusions about how the EU matters.
Activity
How important do you think a European constitution is for sustaining the European
project?
Conclusion
This chapter has sketched the history and theory of the EC and EU. It
explicated in some detail both organisations’ institutional origins, and
I inquired into the institutional effects of the EC, drawing attention in
particular to the liberal intergovernmentalist and constructivist approaches
for explaining the dynamics of European integration. My discussion of the
EU’s institutional effects in turn centred on the concept of ‘socialisation’, as
embraced in many constructivist analyses of international organisations. In
the case of the European Commission, I drew attention to scholarship that
casts doubt on the extent to which EU institutions are able to inculcate
pro-European norms in its staff.

• describe similarities and differences between the EC and the EU
knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of the EC and the EU as actors in
112

1. Why did the EU’s constitutional project fail?
2. Explore the relevance of neo-functionalism for explaining institutional
change in the EU.
3. Is the EU a relevant foreign policy actor?
113
Notes
114
Chapter 11: The Organisation of African Unity (1963) and the African Union (2002)
Chapter 11: The Organisation of African

Unity (1963) and the African Union (2002)

This chapter introduces you to the theory, history and practice of the
OAU and AU. In addition to acquainting you with basic facts about the
• describe similarities and differences between the OAU and AU
• account for these differences by deploying both theoretical and
empirical knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of the OAU and the AU as actors in
Essential reading
Herbst, Jeffrey ‘The Creation and Maintenance of National Boundaries in
Africa’, International Organization, 43(4) (September 1989), pp.673–92.
Tieku, Thomas Kwasi ‘Explaining the Clash and Accommodation of Interests of
Major Actors in the Creation of the African Union’, African Affairs, 103(411)
(April 2004), pp.49–267.
Further reading
Clapham, Christopher Africa and the International System: The Politics of State
Survival. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996).
Evans, Malcolm The African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights: The System
in Practice 1986–2006. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011)
second edition.
Franke, Benedikt ‘Africa’s Evolving Security Architecture and the Concept
of Multilayered Security Communities’, Cooperation and Conflict, 43(3)
(September 2008), pp.313–40.
Herbst, Jeffrey States and Power in Africa: Comparative Lessons in Authority and
Control. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000).
Howe, Herbert ‘Lessons of Liberia: ECOMOG and Regional Peacekeeping’,
International Security, 21(3) (Winter 1996–1997), pp.145–76.
Jackson, Robert H. Quasi-States: Sovereignty, International Relations and the
Third World. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993).
Kamanu, Onyeonoro S. ‘Secession and the Right to Self-Determination: An
OAU Dilemma’, Journal of Modern African Studies, 12(3) (September 1974),
pp.355–76.
Makinda, Samuel M. and F. Wafula Okumu The African Union: Challenges of
Globalization, Security, and Governance. (London: Routledge, 2010).
Manby, Bronwen ‘The African Union, NEPAD, and Human Rights: The Missing
Agenda’, Human Rights Quarterly, 26(4) (November 2004), pp.983–1027.
115
Matthews, K. ‘The Organization of African Unity’, in Domenico Mazzeo (ed.)

African Regional Organizations. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1985), pp.49–84
Murray, Rachel Human Rights in Africa: From the OAU to the African Union.
Okafor, Obiora Chinedu The African Human Rights System, Activist Forces and
International Institutions. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).
Tieku, Thomas Kwasi ‘Multilateralization of Democracy Promotion and Defense
in Africa’, Africa Today, 56(2) (Winter 2009), pp.75–91.
Toga, Dawit ‘The African Union Mediation and the Abuja Peace Talks’, in Alex
de Waal (ed.) War in Darfur and the Search for Peace. (Cambridge: Global
Equity Initiative, 2007), pp.214–44.
Van de Walle, Nicolas African Economies and the Politics of Permanent Crisis,
1979–1999. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001).
Viljoen, Frans International Human Rights Law in Africa. (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2012) second edition.
Williams, Paul D. ‘From Non-Intervention to Non-Indifference: The Origins and
Development of African Union’s Security Culture’, African Affairs, 106(423)
(April 2007), pp.253–79.
Introduction
This chapter, like all the other empirical chapters, traces the institutional
origins, effects, and futures of a paired set of international organisations.
the Organisation of African Unity (OAU) and the African Union (AU). In
addition to outlining their basic organisational frameworks, we inquire
into the power, politics and pathologies of one of the world’s least effective
international organisations. For what the OAU and AU have in common
is a membership chiefly interested in the preservation of the status quo.
Few African states, then and now, are inclined to delegate authority to
an international organisation so as to empower it to act on their behalf.
Among other things, the chapter explores the origins – and continued
salience – of this continent-wide reticence about strong multilateralism.
We begin by considering the institutional origins of the OAU. We then
provide an overview of its organisational structure and examine its
institutional effects. We repeat this analytical three-step for the AU.
Institutional origins of the OAU

The OAU was established on 25 May 1963 in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. The
coming together of 31 African heads of state that day marked the political
zenith of Pan-Africanism. It was the institutional expression of a powerful
idea with roots in the early twentieth century. In the course of the 1950s
and 1960s, different varieties of Pan-Africanism served to propel anti-
colonial liberation movements. The rise of Pan-Africanism in this context
owed to such figures as W.E.B. Du Bois and Kwame Nkrumah. DuBois, the
American sociologist and co-founder, in 1909, of the influential National
Association of the Advancement of Colored Peoples (NAACP) was one of
the leading voices in the struggle for racial equality in the United States.
He also was a believer in and proponent of Pan-Africanism.
At the heart of his doctrine were the linkages he sought to establish
between the history of Africans on the continent and the history of the
African diaspora in the Caribbean and the Americas. By highlighting,
with great eloquence, commonalities in the alienation, exploitation and
suffering of ‘black folk’ everywhere, Du Bois threw down the gauntlet. It
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was an attempt to create a black consciousness that transcends borders.

His ideas found traction in Africa. Yet, importantly, there the push for
decolonisation turned Pan-Africanism from a movement of peoples into a
movement of states. What is more, the objective was continental unity –
solidarity with Pan-Africanist movements elsewhere was not to be had. On
top of this, various groups of African states had conflicting ideas of how to
make Pan-Africanism work on the continent. These dynamics played out
very publicly in the run-up to the creation of the OAU. The contentious
politics of Pan-Africanism ensured that what soon became the continent’s
most recognisable international organisation was effectively stillborn.
Nkrumah, the first president of independent Ghana, believed firmly in the
importance of creating an ‘African personality’ in international politics,
one that embodied a unity of purpose and a commitment to both peace
and freedom. Because he was concerned that superpower interventions
could pit newly independent and often resource-dependent African states
against one another, Nkrumah advocated a ‘union model’ for the OAU. As
such, he represented the ‘Casablanca Group’ of African states. This group
brought together Algeria, Egypt, Ghana, Guinea, Libya, Mali, Morocco
and others. But not all of the continent’s new states shared Nkrumah’s
vision for a United States of Africa. The French-speaking states of the
‘Brazzaville Group’ (for example, Benin, Burkina Faso, Cameroon, Central
African Republic, Chad, Côte d’Ivoire, Gabon, Niger and Senegal) and the
20 states of the ‘Monrovia Group’ (for example, Ethiopia, Liberia, Libya,
Nigeria, Sierra Leone, Somalia) favoured a looser association. Moreover,
they were careful not to provoke the European powers (for example,
over the question of Algerian independence). In short, they were keen on
economic cooperation, but opposed to political integration.
The OAU Charter was a compromise solution. By leaving no doubt
that political integration was not in the pipeline, the OAU Charter
enshrined the Brazzaville and Monrovia Groups’ functionalist approach to
international organisation. The Casablanca Group’s normative orientation
received recognition in that the document created a Liberation Committee
dedicated to ending colonialism. Beyond that the OAU Charter’s 33
articles reflected the statist interpretation of Pan-Africanism that all three
political groupings shared. It repeatedly insisted on the centrality of their
members’ sovereignty. The significance of the principle of sovereignty can
be seen in Article III, the first three paragraphs of which are all dedicated
to enshrining a dimension thereof. Article III(1) provided for the sovereign
equality of all member states. Article III(2) stipulated non-interference in
the internal affairs of states. And Article III(3) mandated respect for the
sovereignty and territorial integrity of each State and for its inalienable
right to independent existence.
Unlike the founding documents of many other international organisations,
the OAU Charter did not impose legal obligations on member states. This
notwithstanding, the OAU had surprising staying power, despite – or
perhaps because of – the fact that it made little headway in improving
political, economic or social conditions in Africa. In fact, it has often been
alleged that the OAU was complicit in exacerbating the ‘lot’ of the peoples
of Africa, a topic to which I return below.
Activity
What is meant by decolonisation? In what ways did the process of decolonisation differ
among African States?
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How the OAU worked

Charter Article VII established the OAU’s four principal institutions: the
Assembly of Heads of State and Government, the Council of Ministers,
the General Secretariat and the Commission of Mediation, Conciliation
and Arbitration. The Assembly was the OAU’s highest decision-making
body (its ‘supreme organ’, as Article VIII put it). It met once per year as
well as at extraordinary summits. The Assembly governed all activities,
and it could issue resolutions, the passing of which required a two-thirds
majority. In practice, however, because OAU resolutions (much like UN
General Assembly resolutions but unlike UN Security Council resolutions)
carried no binding force, member states sought to operate by consensus.
The Council of Ministers was the Assembly’s executive organ and met
twice annually. Supported by the General Secretariat, it coordinated inter-
African cooperation and prepared the OAU summits. Next, the Commission
of Mediation, Conciliation, and Arbitration was designed to become a
forum for the peaceful settlement of disputes between member states.
Established in 1964, it had 21 members who were elected by the Assembly
and served five-year terms.
Finally, a number of specialised agencies were introduced over the years
to support the work of the OAU. They included the African Accounting
Council, the African Bureau for Educational Sciences, African Civil Aviation
Commission, Pan-African News Agency, the Pan-African Postal Union, Pan-
African Railways Union, the Pan-African Telecommunications Union and
the Supreme Council for Sports in Africa. The OAU’s institutional matrix
was funded by contributions from member states, in accordance with the
scale of assessment of the United Nations.
Crucially, the OAU’s principal institutions were decidedly powerless when
compared with many of the organs of other international organisations.
For one, the Assembly had neither the authority nor the power to compel
states to comply with its decisions. The OAU Charter made no provision for
the imposition of sanctions on member states in cases of non-compliance.
Related to this, the Commission of Mediation, Conciliation, and Arbitration
was limited to addressing inter-state conflicts. In keeping with the OAU’s
insistence on the inviolability of sovereignty, intra-state conflicts did not
fall within its purview. In fact, an engagement in an internal conflict by
the OAU Commission required the consent of both parties to the conflict in
question as well as an authorisation by the Assembly.
Institutional effects of the OAU

The OAU ranks as one of the least effective international organisations
ever created. Its inability to leave more of a positive mark on Africa than
it did owes to the aforementioned deficiencies of the OAU’s institutional
design as well as to its operation – during the height of the Cold War
– in one of the most violent settings of superpower conflict. While the
Casablanca, Brazzaville and Monrovia groupings had lost their meaning
in the 1970s, new ideological cleavages divided the OAU membership.
By aligning themselves with the Soviet Union or the United States (or
somewhere in between), OAU states incapacitated the international
organisation. Whereas Nkrumah led the communist faction, Félix
Houphouët-Boigny of the Ivory Coast headed the capitalist alliance within
the OAU. On account of these divisions, it was nigh impossible for the
OAU to reach agreement on any substantive matters, whether related to
questions of security or development or institutional change.
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The Cold War affected not only the authority and power of the OAU, but
also its legitimacy in the eyes of the rest of the international community.
President Julius Nyerere of Tanzania famously described the OAU
pejoratively as ‘a talking Club of Heads of States’. One additional problem
was the OAU’s failure to clarify its relationship with the various regional
organisations that had begun to spring up in Africa. The most important
among them were the East African Community (EAC), the Economic
Community of West African States (ECOWAS), the Southern African
Development Community (SADC) and the Intergovernmental Authority
on Development (IGAD). There was in some cases substantial overlap in
terms of organisational mandates. This institutional competition was a
further impediment to OAU effectiveness.
Next, there is the OAU’s security mandate. Between 1963 and 1980,
the OAU responded to 43 disputes between member states, most of
which related to territorial grievances. Yet at the same time, the OAU’s
Commission of Mediation, Conciliation, and Arbitration remained
virtually inactive for nearly forty years. During the entirety of its lifespan
(1964–93), neither had a single African state invoked its provisions nor
had any member state referred a dispute in which it was involved to the
Commission. The OAU therefore struggled to enforce its mandate. It stood
by in times of large-scale violence, whether in Nigeria, Uganda, Angola
or Mozambique. At long last, the Mechanism for Conflict Prevention,
Management and Resolution was put in its stead in 1993. Yet as the
1994 genocide in Rwanda made clear, it, too, failed to contribute in any
meaningful way to international peace and security in Africa.
These failings notwithstanding, it would be wrong to conclude that the
OAU made no contribution at all. In fact, in response to his dissatisfaction
with the international organisation, Nyerere, in 1976, organised the
Sixth Pan African Congress in Dar es Salaam. It was an attempt to revive
and reinvigorate the philosophy of Pan Africanism, in this case with the
liberation of southern Africa as unifying objective. In the aftermath of the
conference, the OAU aided the armed struggle of liberation movements
in both Rhodesia (what today is Zambia and Zimbabwe) and South Africa
by providing weapons, training and military bases. The OAU also had
a number of diplomatic successes on this front. Among other things, it
convinced the UN to expel the apartheid government from the WHO.
Furthermore, the OAU initiated deliberations about institutional
innovation in a number of economic areas. The African Development
Bank (1964), modelled after the World Bank, emerged under its auspices,
as did the African Development Fund (1972). In addition to this move
toward greater financial multilateralism, the OAU adopted the Lagos Plan
of Action in 1980, directed at disseminating strategies for economic self-
reliance and cooperation. In the same direction, it pushed the 1991 Abuja
Treaty that established the AEC. The idea of the scheme was to create
an African common market by tying together the continent’s regional
economic communities. Turning from the economic to the political realm,
the OAU helped to adopt the 1981 African Charter on Human and Peoples’
Rights, which then led to the creation, in 1986, of the African Commission
on Human and People’s Rights located in Banjul, the Gambia. Pursuant
to a 1998 protocol to the Charter, the Commission was complemented
by the African Court on Human and Peoples’ Rights in 2004. Unlike the
Commission, the Court has adjudicative powers. In 2008, said court in
turn was merged, at least on paper, with the envisaged Court of Justice of
the African Union.
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The product of the institutional merger has been named the African
Court of Justice and Human Rights, and it will be based in Arusha,
Tanzania. An institutional legacy of the OAU, the African Commission
on Human and People’s Rights turned a page by bringing a case against
the government of Libya in 2011. On 25 March 2011, the African Court
on Human and Peoples’ Rights issued an order for provisional measures,
including the order that ‘the Great Socialist People’s Libyan Arab
Jamahiriya must immediately refrain from any action that would result
in loss of life or violation of physical integrity of persons, which could be
a breach of the provisions of the Charter or of other international human
rights instruments to which it is a party’. Previously, in 2000, the OAU
had adopted its so-called Lomé Declaration. It contained fundamental
principles for the promotion of democracy and good governance. It was an
effort to shed the international organisation’s image of a ‘dictators’ club’.
(The image was largely deserved.) It marked the death of Africa’s first
truly international organisation.
Activity
What were the main effects of the Cold War in Africa?
Institutional origins of the AU

The 2000 OAU summit in Lomé was also the birthplace of the AU. In
Togo, 53 heads of state and government signed the Constitutive Act
of the African Union. Two years later, on 9 July 2002, the AU was
formally launched in Durban under the chairmanship of Thabo Mbeki,
the President of South Africa. Yet the road to Durban was anything but
straight. It led via Pretoria, and Lagos and Sirte. First, Mbeki saw an
opportunity in using a newly created AU to legitimate and transplant
his home-grown brand of neo-liberalism. Under the moniker of an
‘African renaissance’, Mbeki supported the creation of an international
organisation that would promote economic liberalisation and political
democratisation. Both were in keeping with the leadership pretensions
of the so-called new South Africa, the former pariah country that was
reintegrated with the international community after the end of apartheid.
Yet Nigeria, too, had ambitions for a leadership role in Africa. Under
President Olusegun Obasanjo, the government of Nigeria was keen to
fashion an AU that would resemble the OSCE.
More radical in conception than Mbeki’s plan, Obasanjo’s vision saw the
AU develop into the world’s foremost international organisation dealing
with Africa’s security, stability and development challenges. ‘The genesis
of Obasanjo’s reform package can be traced back to the early 1990s,
when he organized non-governmental organizations to develop… “a
strategic vision for Africa”’ (Tieku, 2004: 257–58). Whereas Mbeki saw
primarily the potential economic payoffs of a greater institutionalisation
of multilateralism in Africa, Obasanjo found more promising the AU’s
potential for political reform. In addition, he saw how Nigerian leadership
in the AU could further cement its role of a supposedly benevolent
continental hegemon. Mbeki’s and Obasanjo’s contending international
ambitions led to the introduction, at the 1999 OAU Summit in Algeria,
of two competing – yet ultimately largely compatible – institutional
pathways to the proposed AU. Then came Sirte. There, at an extraordinary
OAU Summit in 1999, Libyan leader Muammar Ghaddafi called for the
founding of an African Union in his own incomparable way. For he, too,
saw in the AU project a tool for furthering domestic interests. Accordingly,
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Ghaddafi sketched a third institutional design for the planned AU. By

presenting a plan for a ‘United States of Africa’, he clearly sought to signal
his return to the centre of African politics.
Confronted with a three-way tie for continental leadership, the OAU
Council of Ministers was charged with drafting a compromise document,
which became the Constitutive Act of the AU. A close reading reveals that
the founding document of Africa’s latest international organisation owes
little to Libya’s and a great deal to Nigeria’s and South Africa’s visions
for the AU. Most important perhaps was the strong emphasis placed on
the legal obligations contained in the Constitutive Act and the liberal
norms underpinning them. Not incidentally, the prominent inclusion of
liberal norms came also in response to the rise (and occasional success)
of democracy-demanding forces in many of Africa’s authoritarian regimes
(see Bratton and van de Walle, 1997).
How the AU works

The AU, especially when compared with its predecessor, the OAU, is an
institutionally rather complex international organisation. At its founding,
it comprised nine principal organs and numerous subsidiary institutions.
The organs are the Assembly of the Union, the Executive Council, the
Pan-African Parliament, the Court of Justice (see discussion above),
the Commission, the Permanent Representative Committee (PRC), the
Specialized Technical Committees, the Economic, Social, and Cultural
Councils and the Financial Institutions (the African Central Bank, based
in Nigeria, the African Investment Bank, based in Libya and the African
Monetary Fund, based in Cameroon). Also part of the AU is NEPAD, the
New Partnership for Africa’s Development.
The Assembly is the locus of power in the AU. It determines the
international organisation’s policies; approves and adopts the budget;
establishes new AU organs; and issues directives ‘on the management
of conflicts, wars and other emergency situations and the restoration
of peace’ (Article 9(10(g), Constitutive Act of the AU). It also considers
requests for AU membership. Comprising all member states’ heads of state
and government, the Assembly meets twice a year (January and July) as
well as in extraordinary sessions. Decisions are supposed to be reached
by consensus, but a two-thirds majority can break a deadlock. Contrary
to the OAU, none of whose official documents were legally binding, the
AU Assembly issues ‘decisions’ and ‘declarations’. Whereas the former
are binding, the latter have only informal authority. They were designed
to encourage further voluntary cooperation and harmonisation among
member states.
The Executive Council, like the OAU’s Council of Ministers, is responsible
for the implementation and monitoring of AU policies. The ministers
serving on it can decide relatively uncontroversial matters in the domains
of, inter alia, foreign trade, industry and mineral resources, science and
technology, and transport and communications, education and culture
and health as well as social security. Regional and international security,
however, are beyond its mandate. The Council delegates some of its
powers and functions to the Specialized Technical Committees. Currently
there are 14, dedicated to matters ranging from agriculture to trade,
customs and immigration; and from transport, communications, and
tourism to health, labour and social affairs. The Pan-African Parliament,
next, plays merely an advisory and consultative role. Five representatives
from each member state meet twice a year in Midrand, South Africa.
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The AU Commission, based in Addis Ababa, functions as the AU’s

secretariat, and its powers were marginally expanded in 2009. It proposes
policies, drafts budgets and coordinates activities. What is to become the
African Court of Justice and Human Rights (see discussion above) on the
one hand adjudicates disputes over the interpretation of the Constitutive
Act and related international instruments. On the other hand, it hears
cases of human rights violations that are referred to it. I will sidestep the
functions of the Economic, Social, and Cultural Council (ECOSOC) and of
the AU’s Financial Institutions. The role of the Peace and Security Council
(PSC) is worth unpacking under the rubric of institutional effects.
Institutional effects of the AU

Under the influence of globalisation, and against the background of the
OAU’s institutional pathology, the AU has adopted a more future-oriented
stance in international politics – at least on paper. The AU seeks to advance
the development of the continent by promoting research in many fields,
notably in science and technology; and it endeavours to cooperate with
international partners on the eradication of preventable diseases and other
social ills. In its self-presentation, the AU is committed to at least partially
transcending the statist philosophy that was at the heart of the OAU. Its
mandate, as set out in the AU’s Constitutive Act, is different and rather
more comprehensive than that of its predecessor. My tentative discussion
of the AU’s institutional effects will relate examples of normative
innovation to examples of organisational innovation.
In terms of the former, it is important to highlight the weakening of the
AU’s sovereignty norm. Although the founding document reiterates the
importance of the sovereign equality of all member states, Articles 4(h)
and 4(j) of the Constitutive Act represent a major departure from the
OAU’s security regime. To start, Article 4(h) established ‘the right of
the Union to intervene in a Member State pursuant to a decision of the
Assembly in respect of grave circumstances, namely war crimes, genocide
and crimes against humanity’. Just in case the AU as an international
organisation was reluctant to make use of this right, the drafters of the
Constitutive Act also included Article 4(j). Pursuant to the latter, member
states have ‘the right… to request intervention from the Union in order
to restore peace and security.’ Both provisions are extremely far-reaching,
and nothing comparable has been codified in any other international
instrument. As Samuel Makinda and Wafula Okumu (2010: 38) have
noted, ‘the AU became the first organization in the world to give itself such
a mandate’. It has been observed, and probably correctly, that the OAU’s
failure to respond adequately to the 1994 genocide in Rwanda and various
other instances of large-scale social violence may have prompted what
Francis Deng, the Sudanese scholar and current UN Special Adviser on
Genocide, has termed the rethinking of ‘sovereignty as responsibility’.
Moreover, Article 23 for the first time in the history of international
organisations in Africa makes provision for the imposition of sanctions
on non-compliant member states. Budget arrears may lead to denial of
the right to speak at meetings, to vote, to present candidates for any
position or post within the Union or to benefit from any AU activity. More
revolutionary, Article 23(2) stipulates that a state’s failure to comply
with AU decisions and policies may result in tougher sanctions, such as
the denial of transport and communications links with other member
states as well as ‘other measures of a political and economic nature to be
determined by the Assembly’. These new norms have found expression,
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among other things, in the subsidiary organisation of the Peace and

Security Council (PSC). The PSC has the authority to ‘take initiatives and
action it deems appropriate’ in response to potential or existing conflicts.
In theory, it introduced an organisational capacity that the OAU lacked.
For under the implementation of the 2005 Non-Aggression and Common
Defence Pact, it also committed itself to undertaking action ‘to prohibit
and prevent genocide, other forms of mass murder as well as crimes
against humanity’.
Consisting of 15 member states (like the UN Security Council) with equal
voting rights (unlike the UN Security Council) that serve two- or three-
year terms, the PSC operates at three organisational levels, namely:
• at the level of heads of states (who meet at least once per year)
• at the level of ministers (at least one meeting per year)
• at the level of permanent representatives (who meet at least twice per
year).
Thus far the PSC has been active in Burundi, Comoros, Côte d’Ivoire,
the Democratic Republic of Congo, Darfur, Libya, Mauritania, Somalia
and Togo. Most notably, in May 2003, the PSC authorised an AU
military intervention in Burundi, where it deployed peacekeepers from
South Africa, Ethiopia and Mozambique in support of a brokered peace
settlement. A similar peacekeeping force was dispatched to Somalia.
The AU involvement in the Darfur conflict has been widely criticised for
its ineffectiveness. The hapless, under-funded, and poorly equipped AU
mission in Sudan (consisting of some 9,000 troops, mostly from Rwanda
and Nigeria) was eventually turned into UNAMID, the African Union–
United Nations hybrid operation in Darfur. Unfortunately, the AU’s attitude
was like that of the OAU, when it refused, in July 2009, to recognise the
international arrest warrant that the International Criminal Court had
issued for Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir.
Similarly problematic was the AU’s dithering over the 2011 Libya conflict.
Although it attempted to send a five-person mediation team consisting of
five former African presidents, the high-level delegation was prevented
from entering the country. Yet the AU strongly dissented from the UN
Security Council decision to impose a no-fly zone over Libya. Moreover,
even after the Arab League had recognised, in August 2001, Libya’s National
Transitional Council as the legitimate interim government of Libya, the
PSC voted not to recognise it. Instead, the PSC pushed for a government of
national unity. This led to dissent within the AU, as Ethiopia, Nigeria and
Rwanda, among member states, insisted that the AU recognise the NTC.
The AU finally did so on 20 September 2011. A tentative review of the PSC’s
operation since its inception suggests that much remains to be desired when
it comes to the AU’s envisaged leadership role on the continent in the area
of international peace and security.
Turning to other normative advances, the AU has also, as already
mentioned, made inroads in the area of accountability. In 2003, it adopted
the African Union Convention on Preventing and Combating Corruption.
The African Charter on Democracy, Elections, and Governance followed
in 2007. And NEPAD’s associated Declaration on Democracy, Political,
Economic and Corporate Governance also put to the front and centre the
importance of respecting the norms and institutions of liberal democracy
and the rule of law. What is more, and even more fundamental, Article
4 of the Constitutive Act lays down as ‘principles’ of the international
organisation the promotion of gender equality (in paragraph l); respect for
democratic principles, human rights, the rule of law and good governance
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(m); respect for the sanctity of human life, condemnation and rejection
of impunity and political assassination, acts of terrorism and subversive
activities (o); and the condemnation and rejection of unconstitutional
changes of governments (p). Inasmuch as some of the other principles
contained in Article 4 have been copied straight from the OAU Charter,
the aforementioned principles are in contradistinction to the way in which
the OAU’s founding principles condoned authoritarianism. Of course, the
adoption of norms tells us nothing about their salience and countries’
socialisation into them. Yet in comparison with the OAU’s reluctance in this
area, the AU, at a minimum, has mainstreamed the demand for democracy.
Having said this, whether or not the new international organisation can
deliver on its many promises remains to be seen. Thus far, the AU record
has been mixed.
Activity
What is your view of the role of the African Union in the 2011 Libya conflict?
Conclusion
This chapter has sketched the history and theory of the OAU and the AU.
we inquired into the institutional effects of both the OAU and AU. In this
context, we placed much emphasis on the normative and organisational
innovations that the AU brought, and embarked on a tentative analysis of
the consequences of these changes thus far.

• describe similarities and differences between the OAU and AU
knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of the OAU and the AU as actors in

1. Compare the security architecture of the AU and NATO.
2. How important were domestic politics in the creation of the OAU?
3. Can the AU avoid the pathologies of the OAU?
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Chapter 12: The ICYT (1993), the ICTR (1994) and the ICC (2002)
Chapter 12: The ICYT (1993), the ICTR

(1994) and the ICC (2002)

This chapter introduces you to the theory, history, and practice of the ICTY,
ICTR and ICC. In addition to acquainting you with basic facts about the
• describe similarities and differences between the ICTY, ICTR and ICC
• account for these differences by deploying both theoretical and
empirical knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of the ICTY, ICTR and ICC as actors
Essential reading
Bass, Gary Jonathan Stay the Hand of Vengeance: The Politics of War Crimes
Tribunals. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2001), pp.206–75.
Deitelhoff, Nicole ‘The Discursive Process of Legalization: Charting Islands of
Persuasion in the ICC Case’, International Organization, 63(1) (January
2009), pp.33–65.
Further reading
Allen, Tim Trial Justice: The International Criminal Court and the Lord’s
Resistance Army. (London: Zed Books, 2006).
Cryer, Robert, Hakan Friman, Darryl Robinson and Elizabeth Wilmshurst An
Introduction to International Criminal Law and Procedure. (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2010) second edition.
Drumbl, Mark Atrocity, Punishment, and International Law. (Cambridge:
Gilligan, Michael J. ‘Is Enforcement Necessary for Effectiveness? A Model of
the International Criminal Regime’, International Organization, 60(4) (Fall
2006), pp.935–67.
Kelley, Judith ‘Who Keeps International Commitments and Why? The
International Criminal Court and Bilateral Nonsurrender Agreements’,
American Political Science Review, 101(3) (August 2007), pp.573–89.
Kelsall, Tim Culture under Cross-Examination: International Justice and the
Special Court for Sierra Leone. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2009).
Meierhenrich, Jens and Keiko Ko ‘How Do States Join the International
Criminal Court? The Implementation of the Rome Statute in Japan’, Journal
of International Criminal Justice, 7(2) (May 2009), pp.233–56.
Mettraux, Guénaël International Crimes and the Ad Hoc Tribunals. (Oxford:
Nettelfield, Lara J. Courting Democracy in Bosnia and Herzegovina: The Hague
Tribunal’s Impact in a Postwar State. (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2010).
125
Peskin, Victor International Justice in Rwanda and the Balkans: Virtual Trials and
the Struggle for State Cooperation. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2009).
Schabas, William An Introduction to the International Criminal Court.
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011) fourth edition.
Schabas, William A. The UN International Criminal Tribunals: The former
Yugoslavia, Rwanda and Sierra Leone. (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2006).
Scheffer, David All the Missing Souls: A Personal History of the War Crimes
Tribunals. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2012).
Simmons, Beth A. and Allison Danner ‘Credible Commitments and the
International Criminal Court’, International Organization, 64(2) (April
2010), pp.225–56.
Snyder, Jack L. and Leslie Vinjamuri ‘Trials and Errors: Principle and
Pragmatism in Strategies of International Justice,’ International Security,
28(3) (Winter 2003/04), pp.5–44.
Wagner, Sarah E. To Know Where He Lies: DNA Technology and the Search for
Srebrenica’s Missing. (Berkeley, Cal.: University of California Press, 2008).
Wilson, Richard A. Writing History in International Criminal Tribunals.
Introduction
This chapter, like all the preceding empirical chapters, traces the
institutional origins, effects and futures of a set of international
organisations. In this case, I compare and contrast the institutional
development of the International Criminal Tribunal for the former
Yugoslavia (ICTY), International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR)
and International Criminal Court (ICC). In addition to outlining their
basic organisational frameworks, I inquire into the power, politics and
pathologies of these international courts and tribunals. For all three have
risen to become notable – and controversial – actors in international
politics. I begin by considering the institutional origins of the ICTY and
ICTR, as the gestation of both international organisations is very similar.
I then provide an overview of their almost identical organisational
structures and examine their institutional effects. I subsequently repeat
this analytical three-step for the ICC, which unlike the ICTY and ICTR is a
permanent international organisation.
Institutional origins of the ICTY and ICTR

Both the ICTY (the ‘Yugoslavia Tribunal,’ for short) and the ICTR (the
‘Rwanda Tribunal’) were established shortly after the end of the Cold
War, and both by the UN Security Council (UNSC). Under Chapter VII of
the UN Charter, which is devoted to ‘Action with Respect to Threat to the
Peace, Breaches of the Peace, and Acts of Aggression,’ the UNSC created
the ICTY in 1993 and the ICTR in 1994. The international tribunals were
responses by the international community to mass atrocities committed
in two different corners of the world – what used to be the Socialist
Federal Republic of Yugoslavia and Rwanda. The great majority of states
constituting the international community were unwilling to stop the
bloodshed – by way of military force – in either theatre of conflict.
In the case of the former Yugoslavia, the bloodshed was related to the
collapse of the Soviet Union. In the context of the power vacuum that
ensued in the satellite state, which formally dissolved in 1992, hostilities
taking place in Slovenia in the early 1990s were soon followed by
large-scale violence in Croatia and Bosnia and Herzegovina. On these
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territories, civil war (what international lawyers call ‘internal armed

conflict’) and international war (what is known as ‘international armed
conflict’ in international law) intersected in complicated ways. As the
number of casualties reached the thousands, and the number of internally
displaced and refugees the hundreds of thousands, the UN dispatched,
in late 1992, a Commission of Experts under the leadership of notable
international lawyer Cherif Bassiouni to investigate the situation on the
ground and to inquire whether international crimes had been committed.
Against the background of news reports about civilian massacres, mass
rape, concentration camps and forced removals of minority groups
(what the perpetrators euphemistically termed ‘ethnic cleansing’), the
UN Commission found ample evidence of violations of international
humanitarian law, including the 1949 Geneva Conventions. On the
foundation of this report, and in response to the increasing moral pressure
to stop mass violence on the fringes of Europe, the UNSC, on 25 May
1993, passed Resolution 827, thereby establishing the ICTY in the Hague,
the Netherlands. The resolution, which contained the ad hoc tribunal’s
Statute, marked a historical juncture in international politics. For nearly 50
years had passed since the international community sat in judgment over
other countries. The last time it had done so was in the aftermath of the
Second World War, when the International Military Tribunal at Nuremberg
and the International Military Tribunal for the Far East, in Tokyo, meted
out international justice against leading representatives of the vanquished
in that global conflict, Nazi Germany and imperial Japan.
In the case of Rwanda, the bloodshed to which the international
community responded by way of international law was the result of the
1994 genocide, a concerted campaign by Hutu extremists to destroy the
country’s minority Tutsi population. In the span of only one hundred days,
nearly one million Rwandans lay dead, killed at the hands of specialists
in violence (military, militia, police) as well as ordinary men and women.
Most of the victims were Tutsi, but Hutu opponents of the genocidal
regime were also murdered. Inspired by the example of the ICTY, the
UNSC 18 months later followed suit with another temporary international
tribunal, this one based in Arusha, Tanzania. Resolution 955 created the
ICTR in the ICTY’s image, meaning that the two international tribunals
with, save for their respective jurisdictions (of which more below), had
nearly identical statutes and institutional designs. In fact, the ICTY and
ICTR share an Appeal Chamber, and, until 2003, also had one and the
same prosecutor.
Unlike any of the other international organisations discussed in this
subject guide, the ICTY and the ICTR were never intended to be anything
other than ad hoc tribunals, established temporarily to come to terms by
way of international law with the atrocities in their respective jurisdictions.
Accordingly, in 2004, both of the UN’s international tribunals began to
wind up operations. In pursuit of this institutional objective, the ICTY
and ICTR presented so-called completion strategies to the UN according
to which they would issue no more indictments after 31 December 2004;
bring to a close all trials by 31 December 2008; and conclude all appeal
proceedings by 31 December 2010. None of the self-imposed deadlines
was met, however. According to the ICTY’s 2011 half-yearly report to
the UNSC on the progress of meeting its completion strategy, six trials
are expected to conclude in 2012, with the high-profile trial of Radovan
Karadžić set to wrap up in 2014. The Appeals Chamber also had four cases
pending, with the number bound to rise upon the completion of the trial
proceedings. Over at the ICTR, the delays were of a similar magnitude.
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Its president reported to the UNSC in 2011 that it had completed 88 per
cent of its trials, with less than four per cent still in the docket by the end
of 2011. As far as appeals were concerned, the ICTR report estimated that
five additional appeal judgments would be handed down in the second
half of 2011. Altogether 11 appeal judgments are expected to conclude by
the end of 2014.
Activity
Acquaint yourself with the history of the Nuremberg and Tokyo tribunals. What
distinguished this first generation from subsequent generations of international courts
and tribunals?
How the ICTY and ICTR work

The ICTY and ICTR are responsible for the investigation and adjudication
of three types of international crimes: genocide, war crimes and crimes
against humanity. This, their so-called subject-matter (ratione materiae)
jurisdiction, is almost identical, although the ICTR’s mandate is somewhat
more restrictive – due to the nature of the conflict – in terms of the kinds
of violations of international humanitarian law (IHL) that it can try. Both
ad hoc tribunals were founded on the principle of individual criminal
responsibility, meaning that both would hold individuals, not states,
responsible for the perpetration – whether by commission or omission – of
international crimes. It is important to appreciate a major difference in
moving from personal (ratione personae) to temporal (ratione temporis)
jurisdiction. Whereas the ICTY was created to try international crimes
perpetrated on the territory of the former Yugoslavia after 1 January 1991,
the ICTR’s jurisdiction was more circumscribed: its timeframe extended
only to international crimes perpetrated between 1 January and 31
December 1994.
Each of the UN ad hoc tribunals was equipped with three principal organs
to exercise its mandate, which were:
• the Chambers
• the Office of the Prosecutor
• the Registry.
At the height of their activities, each tribunal employed more than 1,000
staff. The Chambers comprise each tribunal’s three Trial Chambers and
their joint Appeals Chamber. Whereas five judges are assigned to every
appellate proceeding, a trial proceeding requires only three judges.
Over the course of time, the ICTY and ICTR, in addition to employing
permanent judges (who are appointed by the UN General Assembly from
a list supplied by the UNSC), also extended contracts to so-called ad litem
judges, high-calibre jurists who can be called upon to render temporary
assistance and serve alongside the permanent judges in specific cases.
Judges, whether permanent or temporary, hail from a variety of legal
systems and, initially at least, not all were necessarily lawyers in their
previous careers. In order to ensure diversity of experience and fairness,
the Statute mandated that no two judges were to be from the same
country.
Whereas the judges are responsible for ensuring that each trial is
conducted in keeping with the ICTY and ICTR’s so-called Rules of
Procedure and Evidence, which lay down in detail the rights and
obligations of all parties to an international trial, the Office of the
Prosecutor (OTP), which the ICTY and ICTR also initially shared, is
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in charge of investigating alleged atrocities, and, where appropriate,

building indictments against persons whom it believes to be individually
responsible for any of the international crimes included in the relevant
Statute. At the helm of the OTP is the Chief Prosecutor, who is appointed
for a renewable four-year term. At both the UN ad hoc tribunals and the
ICC, as we shall see, whichever lawyer headed the OTP quickly became the
face of international justice, and thus its figurehead. The first, joint ICTY/
ICTR Prosecutor was Richard Goldstone, the eminent South African jurist.
Louise Arbour and Carla Del Ponte followed. After the latter’s departure,
Serge Brammertz (formerly of the ICC’s OTP) took over the role of ICTY
Prosecutor, and Hassan Jallow became ICTR Prosecutor.
Last but not least is the Registry, the bureaucratic backbone of both
international tribunals. Given the complexity of managing the delivery
of international justice, the Registry’s varied contributions are of utmost
importance. In addition to overseeing the budget and physical structure
of their respective courts, the Registry is responsible for, in no particular
order, file management, witness transportation and protection, legal aid
and detention, international cooperation, public information, security,
human resources, procurement, travel and interpretation and translation,
to name but a few of the bureaucratic tasks that it fulfils.
Having outlined the basic institutional structure of both the ICTY
and ICTR, a few words are in order regarding the status of the UN ad
hoc tribunals vis-à-vis courts in domestic jurisdictions. This is worth
mentioning because the Rome Statute of the International Criminal
Court undid some of the advances achieved by the second generation of
international courts and tribunals (the IMTs at Nuremberg and Tokyo
representing the first generation). For example, the ICTY Statute provided,
in Article 9(1), that ‘the International Tribunal and national courts shall
have concurrent jurisdiction to prosecute persons for serious violations of
international humanitarian law committed in the territory of the former
Yugoslavia since 1 January 1991’. This meant that, in principle, either the
ICTY or a national court on the territory of the former Yugoslavia could
investigate and prosecute alleged international crimes. However, and this
was, at least on paper, an important achievement for the international
human rights lobby, the ICTY had primacy over national courts. States,
under international law, were obligated to defer to the competence of
the international tribunal. In the case of the Rome Statute, as we shall
see, the principle of complementarity took this rather significant power
away from the ICC, not least because some states feared that an excess
of prosecutorial discretion threatened the sanctity of sovereignty in the
international system.
Institutional effects of the ICTY and ICTR

The ICTY and ICTR are truly unique international organisations. They
paved the road for the ICC. Absent their operation and jurisprudence, it is
unlikely that a permanent international criminal court would have been
created. However, in addition to having many proponents the international
criminal justice regime that emerged with full force in the mid-1990s also
has many critics. The most salient criticisms relate to:
• the costs of the UN ad hoc tribunals
• the politics of international criminal justice
• the effectiveness of the ICTY and ICTR, notably their impact in the
territories with which they are concerned.
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Many critics have pointed to the exorbitant costs of running the ICTY and
ICTR. At the peak of their operations, they accounted for 10 per cent of
the UN’s annual operational budget. In 2010–11, the ICTY cost the UN
member states US$301,895,900, and the ICTR required financial support
to the tune of US$227,246,500. These figures reflect retrenchment
measures that both tribunals put in place as part of their completion
strategies. In the eyes of some, the enormous budgets were not justified
given the supposedly meagre results that the ICTY and ICTR produced.
Many observers expected that the tribunals would complete more cases
than they have. As of November 2011, the ICTY had completed 89 cases
(involving 126 defendants) and the ICTR 34 cases. These performances
are disappointing, say some, considering that the UN ad hoc tribunals
have been at work for almost two decades. The slow-moving process of
international criminal justice has been frustrating even for many judges
and parties to the proceedings. It is essential to appreciate, however, the
complexity of international criminal proceedings, which are qualitatively
very different from most national criminal proceedings. What is more, the
stakes are considerably higher. The project of international justice would
most certainly be damaged if the ICTY and ICTR could be shown to have
meted out ‘victor’s justice’. In the interests of fairness in this contested
domain, much is to be said for prioritising the quality of international
justice over its speed. In this sense, the adage that ‘justice delayed is
justice denied’ does not necessarily apply in the international realm.
Another criticism relates to the politics of the ICTY and ICTR. It is
undeniable that the creation of the UN ad hoc tribunals was an eminently
political decision, and that both the ICTY and ICTR have operated in a
highly charged international environment. Accordingly, certain decisions
to indict or not to indict suspected war criminals were taken with the
clear knowledge of their likely effects. In this context, the ICTY’s refusal
to investigate the possible criminality of NATO bombings in the former
Yugoslavia, and the ICTR’s refusal to investigate international crimes
allegedly perpetrated by the Rwandan Patriotic Army during its overthrow
of the genocidal regime in Rwanda, called into question, at least to some
degree, the impartiality of the project of international justice. Similar
concerns have since been raised in the context of the ICC, which some
have described as a neo-colonial tool of Western states. This relates to
the third major criticism that has been levelled at the ICTY and ICTR,
namely the argument that their impact on the societies with which they
are concerned are marginal at best, and polarising at worst. Specialists
on Rwanda have shown that the international justice delivered in Arusha
has made little difference to survivors of the 1994 genocide. In fact, few
Rwandans have knowledge of the goings-on in Tanzania, not least because
their authoritarian, post-genocidal regime for several years refused to
cooperate with the ICTR.
In the case of the ICTY, opinion surveys have shown a great deal of
scepticism toward international justice on the part of canvassed publics in
Serbia and Croatia. There, the ICTY is often seen as being synonymous with
victor’s justice. This perception was fuelled, among other things, by the fact
that the majority of indicted perpetrators were of Serb origin. Defenders of
this practice point to the fact that the majority of atrocities perpetrated in
the various Yugoslav conflicts were committed by Serbs, and it is therefore
no surprise that they should find themselves in the dock more often than
other ethnic groups or nationalities. But critics have also charged that the
ICTY, by keeping the past alive, reduced chances for peaceful coexistence
and reconciliation on the territory of the former Yugoslavia.
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These criticisms notwithstanding, the ICTY and ICTR, albeit in different

ways and to different degrees, also have had indisputably positive effects
on both international law and international politics. The most important
contribution by far is the UN ad hoc tribunals’ advancement of international
criminal law, notably its norms, rules and procedures. The generally careful
deliberation about, as well as invention and interpretation of, these norms,
rules and procedures, has radically altered the normative foundations of
international politics. Even if cooperation and compliance by states are not
always forthcoming, states would be hard-pressed to ignore completely
the strictures of international criminal law without incurring substantial
reputational and transaction costs. Furthermore, the ICTY and ICTR have
spurred the movement for the ICC as well as the domestic criminalisation
and prosecution of international crimes, among other things in the context
of universal jurisdiction (for example, the prosecution of international
crimes in Belgian and Spanish courts). It has also been claimed that the
UN ad hoc tribunals contributed to the deterrence of international crimes,
although scholarly evidence to this effect is non-existent.
If we believe the PR campaign of the ICTY, the international tribunal has
also contributed to international politics in the following way: it has led ‘the
shift from impunity to accountability’; individualised guilt by insisting on the
criminal responsibility of leaders as well as followers; established important
facts about and a record of the conflicts in the former Yugoslavia; brought
justice ‘to thousands of victims’ and given them a voice; and strengthened
the rule of law in the region. The ICTY presented this track record of
ostensible accomplishments to the world in 2004. Inasmuch as the tribunal
has certainly done a great deal on all of these fronts, it is too early to tell
what long-term impact the ICTY’s adjudication of international crimes will
have in Serbia, Bosnia, Croatia, Macedonia and Kosovo. Thus far, much of
the evidence that we possess is anecdotal rather than systematic, and it is
decidedly mixed. For every survivor or witness who feels a sense of relief
after having given testimony at the ICTY, another feels exploited and at times
even victimised for a second time, this time at the hand of international
jurists. And it is far from certain whether or not the ICTY has made any
genuine inroads in the promotion of democracy and the rule of law.
Finally, it is worth considering the impact of the ICTY and ICTR on the
international criminal justice regime more generally. Largely in response
to the UN ad hoc tribunals exorbitant costs, the next generation of
international courts and tribunals was characterised by their hybrid
character. Five of these judicial experiments, which combined in one form
or another domestic foundations and international legal norms, stand out.
In 2000, the UN Transitional Administration for East Timor (UNTEAT)
established the so-called Special Panels in Dili. In the same year, the UN
Interim Administration Mission in Kosovo (UNMIK) created Special Panels
in Pristina. In 2002, the government of Sierra Leone together with the UN
introduced the Special Court for Sierra Leone to Freetown. In 2006, the
government of Cambodia, adopting yet another mixed model, established
the Extraordinary Chambers in the Courts of Cambodia (ECCC) in Phnom
Penh. And, most recently, in 2007, the Special Tribunal for Lebanon
opened its doors in Leidschendam, established jointly by the government
of Lebanon and the UN pursuant to Security Council resolution 1664 of
March 2006. Whatever we might think of the relative success or failure of
any of these experiments in international justice, it is undeniable that the
practice of the ICTY and ICTR, good and bad, had a major effect – through
professional exchange and jurisprudence – on the nature and performance
of these international judicial bodies.
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Activity
Based on a perusal of journalistic commentary, do you think that the ICTY and ICTR were
worth the considerable financial investment by the international community?
Institutional origins of the ICC

The ICC was invented in Rome. At an international conference in 1998,
some 160 states, after long negotiations and much bargaining, agreed
on the ICC’s institutional design, including organisational structure and
jurisdictional reach. In the final tally of votes, 120 states voted in favour
of the draft statute, 7 against, with 21 abstentions. The most notable
opposition came from the United States, China and Israel. The majority
resolved that the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court, as it
was called, should enter into force once 60 states had ratified it. On 11
April 2002, the magic number was reached. Because the Statute provided
for entry into force on the first day of the month after the sixtieth day
following the date of the deposit of the sixtieth instrument of ratification
with the UN Secretary-General, the ICC became nominally operational on
1 July 2002. The road to this day, however, had been an arduous one, not
to mention long and winding.
The first attempt to create a permanent international criminal court
dates back to 1872, when Gustav Moynier, one of the founders of the
International Committee of the Red Cross, proposed that an international
court be established to sit in judgment over atrocities during the Franco-
Prussian war of 1870–71. Nothing came of the plan, but a similar proposal
found its way in the Treaty of Versailles, the peace settlement that followed
the First World War. The most concrete proposals were introduced in
the wake of the IMTs, the first in October 1946, when an international
conference in Paris called for the adoption of an international criminal
code and a matching international court that would enforce it, the second
in the context of the 1948 Genocide Convention which envisaged the
creation of ‘international penal tribunals’. At that time the International
Law Commission (ILC), a body of experts appointed by the UN General
Assembly to aid in the codification and development of international
law, also began studying the possibility of establishing a permanent
international criminal court.
Between 1949 and 1954, the ILC drafted statutes for a possible ICC, but
the international politics of the Cold War meant that nothing came of
these efforts. As a result, the idea lay effectively dormant for 40 years.
It was only in June 1989 that Trinidad and Tobago resurrected the idea,
primarily so as to find a better way of responding to the ills of drug
trafficking. The UNGA adopted the suggestion and asked the ILC to draft
a new statute for a possible permanent international criminal court. The
ILC delivered in 1994, two years after the wars in the former Yugoslavia
plunged the Balkans into mass violence and in the same year in which
Rwanda suffered the consequences of history’s fastest genocide (with
an estimated average of 33 deaths per minute). In its submission to the
UNGA, the ILC recommended that an international conference of so-
called plenipotentiaries be convened to negotiate the final contours of the
ICC. In preparation for this gathering, which took place in Rome in 1998,
the UNGA appointed a three-year Preparatory Committee (commonly
known as ‘PrepCom’) which finalised the text that served as the starting
point for international bargaining at Rome. After a month of negotiations
among the 160 states (not to mention the scores of NGOs) that sent
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representatives to the Diplomatic Conference of Plenipotentiaries on the

Establishment of an International Criminal Court, the vast majority voted
in favour of a compromise text that had been hammered out in many late-
night meetings.
From a theoretical perspective, it is worth taking a closer look at what
precisely transpired in Italy. For when viewed from a realist perspective,
the creation of the ICC is very much an anomaly. Not only did the
institutional design agreed upon at Rome impose substantial sovereignty
costs on ICC States Parties (the somewhat awkward name for member
states), it was also openly opposed by arguably the two most powerful
states in the international system – the United States and China. What
explains the delegation of not insignificant amounts of sovereignty to
an untested international organisation? How can we account for this
remarkable instance of successful legalisation in the international system?
Nicole Deitelhoff (2009) has furnished a constructivist argument to
unravel the empirical puzzle. At the heart of her argument is the concept
of persuasion, a social mechanism that, according to Deitelhoff, helped
to reconstitute the interests of key actors in the process of bargaining.
Drawing on the discourse theory of Jürgen Habermas, the German
philosopher, she contends that the negotiations leading up to Rome were
crucial to reaching a workable compromise solution to the problem of
contending interests at Rome. More specifically, she argues that middle
powers and NGOs charted ‘islands of persuasion’, shifting the range of
legitimate arguments and thus the scope of possible outcomes. Particularly
noteworthy, says Deitelhoff, were the various regional conferences that
the ‘like-minded caucus’ of states (for example, a group of ultimately 60
states led by Canada) in cooperation with a leading NGO, the Coalition
for the International Criminal Court, organised in Latin America, Africa
and East Central Europe, notably for likely future delegates to the Rome
Conference. By sharing knowledge and canvassing opinions and concerns
about potential stumbling blocks, this alliance gradually enlarged the
number of states in favour of a permanent international criminal court.
This priming of the international community made it possible to come
to an international agreement despite the opposition of two regional
hegemons (namely, China and Israel) and the global hegemon (namely,
the United States).
Turning from international relations theory back to international legal
practice, a final act appended to the Rome Statute also provided for the
establishment, by the UNGA, of a Preparatory Commission that would
take the necessary steps for turning the ICC into a working international
organisation. To this end, the Commission adopted, on 30 June 2000,
draft texts for the Rules of Procedure and Evidence and the so-called
Elements of Crimes, the latter representing an interpretive aid that did not
exist for the ICTY and ICTR. The next key juncture was the first meeting
of the Assembly of States Parties (ASP) on 3–10 September 2010. The
ASP, which comprises all states parties to the Rome Statute, is akin to the
ICC’s legislative assembly. It is here that all major administrative decisions
about the institutional organisation as a whole are made. The ASP debates
and approves the ICC budget, elects the ICC Prosecutor and judges, and
considers any and all changes to the law of the ICC (for example, the
substance of the crime of aggression). On 11 March 2003, the first 18
judges were sworn in, and on 16 June 2003, the ICC’s first Prosecutor, Luis
Moreno Ocampo, followed suit. By the time of his swearing-in ceremony,
the rump OTP had already received 500 communications about alleged
international crimes.
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How the ICC works

The ICC bears a striking resemblance to the ICTY and ICTR in some
respects, but in others it is organised very differently indeed. It, too, is
responsible for the investigation and adjudication of different types of
international crimes. However, in addition to genocide, war crimes and
crimes against humanity (all of which have been codified in a somewhat
different and much more detailed manner in the Rome Statute than
they had been in the ICTY and ICTR Statutes), the ICC also tackles the
long-debated and only recently defined crime of aggression. Like the ad
hoc tribunals, the ICC was built on the principle of individual criminal
responsibility. And because the ICC is a permanent international court
(not a temporary international tribunal), its temporal jurisdiction is open-
ended. Although atrocities perpetrated prior to 1 July 2002 do not fall
within its purview, the ICC does have jurisdiction over ‘the most serious
crimes of international concern’ (Article 1, Rome Statute) committed after
that date. Another major difference relates to the ICC’s territorial (ratione
loci) jurisdiction.
Unlike the ICTY and ICTR, the ICC can cast its judicial net much wider.
It has jurisdiction over statute crimes perpetrated on the territory of any
State Party, regardless of the nationality of the offender in question. In
addition, the ICC has jurisdiction on the territory of non-state parties as
long as they have accepted its jurisdiction on an ad hoc basis. Finally, there
is the case of the much written-about referrals by the UN Security Council.
According to Article 13(b) of the Rome Statute, the UNSC can refer a
‘situation in which one or more’ of the aforementioned four international
crimes ‘appear to have been committed’ to the ICC even if the territory on
which they were perpetrated belong to a state that has not ratified and
implemented the international instrument. To do so, the UNSC must act
under Chapter VII of the UN Charter. This is what happened in the cases of
the so-called Darfur and Libya situations.
Turning to its institutional structure, the ICC has four organs, namely:
• the Presidency
• the Chambers
• the Office of the Prosecutor
• the Registry.
The Presidency is in charge of the administration of the entire court,
except for the OTP, which has its own administration. Comprised of three
of the ICC’s sitting judges, the Presidency also constitutes and assigns cases
to the various chambers. Other than the OTP, the Presidency is the most
visible organ of the ICC and is tasked with promoting public awareness
and understanding of the international court. The institutional design
of the judicial division is more differentiated than those at the ICTY and
ICTR. The most significant innovation was the introduction of a Pre-Trial
Division to supplement the work of the Trial Division and Appeals Division.
Pre-Trial Chambers consist of three judges, but much of their work can be
done by a single judge. The institutional design and rules of the Pre-Trial
Division was a response to the less than efficient use of judicial resources
in this area at the UN ad hoc tribunals. Just as at the ICTY and ICTR, Trial
Chambers at the ICC sit in benches of three judges; the Appeals Chamber
sits as a five-judge panel. Contrary to the election procedures at the ICTY
and ICTR, the 18 ICC judges are elected by the ASP. The latest election
took place in December 2011.
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The third ICC organ of note is the OTP, which, under its first Prosecutor,
Luis Moreno Ocampo of Argentina, has made headlines, if not always
positive ones. Pursuant to Article 42(1) of the Rome Statute, the OTP is
‘responsible for receiving referrals and any substantiated information on
crimes within the jurisdiction of the Court, for examining them and for
conducting investigations and prosecutions before the Court’. In order to
hold in check potentially overzealous prosecutors of the future, the OTP’s
powers were curtailed. Compared with the ICTY and ICTR prosecutors, the
ICC prosecutor has less scope for manoeuvre. He or she is more dependent
on the UNSC as well as on sovereign states. The Prosecutor is elected by
the ASP, for a term of nine years. In late 2010, Fatou Bensouda, the former
Deputy Prosecutor, was elected to succeed Moreno Ocampo at the helm of
the OTP. She will take up her new post in July 2012.
Next is the ICC’s Registry. Its function is almost identical to that of the
ICTY and ICTR Registries, namely, to attend to all non-judicial aspects of
the pursuit of international criminal justice. However, the Registrar – the
ICC’s chief administrative officer – is subordinate to that of the President
of the international court. Accordingly, the ICC judges elect the Registrar
for a five-year term. Nominally under the umbrella of the Registry, but
operationally independent are two offices that did not previously exist at
the ICTY or ICTR: the Office of Public Counsel for Victims (OPCV) and
the Office of Public Counsel for Defence (OPCD). The OPC for Victims
was established in 2005. Its role is to ensure the effective participation of
victims in ICC proceedings. It provides legal advice to victims themselves
as well as to their lawyers. The OPC for Defence serves a comparable
purpose for those standing trial. It offers support to defence lawyers or
directly to the accused. It is not quite a public defender’s office, but its
mission is not entirely dissimilar. Finally, it is important to point out that
the ASP also created a Trust Fund for Victims whose mandate it is to
help, by way of targeted assistance and large-scale projects, individuals
and communities recover from the destruction wrought by international
crimes.
So much for institutions − now a quick word about procedures. As
already intimated in the ICTY and ICTR discussion, the distribution
of competences between the ICC and national states was dramatically
altered in 1998, at the Rome Conference. Whereas the ICTY and ICTY
enjoyed primacy over national courts, the ICC was effectively made
subordinate to them. This significant change in status was sold as the
principle of complementarity. Enshrined in Article 17(1)(a), the principle
was a concession to those states at Rome who feared the implications of
too powerful an international court – and too powerful an international
prosecutor. In response, the drafters of the 1998 Rome Statute abandoned
the principle of ‘concurrent jurisdiction’ that underpinned the ICTY and
ICTR Statutes. Instead they provided that the ICC could only investigate
or prosecute possible international crimes if and when the state that has
territorial jurisdiction (for example, the government of Sudan in the case
of the so-called Darfur situation) is either ‘unwilling or unable genuinely
to carry out the investigation or prosecution’. The provision amounts to a
sovereign safety valve. It allows states to keep the ICC at bay, at least for a
while.
Activity
Can the ICC contribute to the creation and maintenance of international peace and
security, or do you think that the goals of ‘peace’ and ‘justice’ will always be in conflict?
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Institutional effects of the ICC

It is too early to judge conclusively the performance of the ICC in any of
the cases that it has taken on. Yet what few deemed possible in 2002 has
come about – the ICC has become an important actor of international
politics in its own right. Whether it can contribute meaningfully to
international peace and security remains to be seen, but it is undeniable
that no state in the international system can afford to completely ignore
the ICC. Even the United States has softened in its opposition to the
permanent court, and it began to do so during the later years of the US
presidency of George W. Bush.
In early 2012, the ICC was engaged in seven different so-called ‘situations’,
namely, in chronological order, the Democratic Republic of Congo (where
five individuals have been indicted), Uganda (five indictments), the
Central African Republic (one indictment), Darfur (six indictments),
Kenya (six indictments), Libya (three indictments) and Côte d’Ivoire (one
indictment). In addition to these ongoing proceedings, only very few of
which have reached the trial stage, the OTP has conducted preliminary
examinations, pursuant to Article 15(1) of the Rome Statute, in Colombia,
Iraq (concluded), Venezuela (concluded), Afghanistan, Georgia, Palestine,
Guinea, Honduras, Nigeria and South Korea. Although the ICC has, due
to the geographical focus of its first seven situations, been described by
some critics as a ‘European Court for Africa’, it would be wrong to think
that anything resembling systematic bias has been responsible for either
the OTP’s decision to prosecute international crimes in Africa, or the
Chambers’ confirmation of these decisions. It is undeniable that some
of the worst instances of mass violence in recent memory have been
perpetrated on the African continent. That mass violence is not unique
to Africa, and the fact that the ICC is very much aware of this, can be
demonstrated with reference to the considerable number of preliminary
examinations that have been conducted to date. Although it may strike
many as odd that American and British actions in Libya and Afghanistan
have escaped the reach of the ICC, it is important to recognise that
the ICC’s principal organs are bound by the Rome Statute, which, as
mentioned, has considerably curtailed the power of the OTP.
Having said this, it is key to continue to monitor the effects of ICC action
on the ground, especially in empirical contexts that are still very much in
transition. Some, such as the prominent anthropologist Alex de Waal, have
charged that the pursuit of international criminal justice can exacerbate
the dynamics of conflict in far-flung locales. He, for example, argued that
the OTP’s controversial decision to indict Omar al-Bashir, the President
of Sudan, in connection with the conflict in Darfur, has exacerbated
violence there, thus complicating concurrent efforts of negotiating a more
comprehensive peace settlement. Critics have made similar arguments for
some of the other situations currently at issue in the Hague.
Conclusion
This chapter has sketched the history and theory of the ICTY, ICTR and
ICC. It explained in some detail all three organisations’ institutional
origins, and also provided an overview of their operating procedures. In
this context, I placed an emphasis on the relative contributions of realism
and constructivism to explaining and understanding the institutional
origins of the ICC. Furthermore, we inquired into the institutional
136
effects of the ICTY, ICTR and ICC. Here we compared and contrasted in
some detail the strengths and weaknesses of these novel international
organisations, cautioning against inflated expectations when it comes to
the delivery of international justice.

• describe similarities and differences between the ICTY, ICTR and ICC
knowledge
• critically discuss the effectiveness of the ICTY, ICTR and ICC as actors

1. How can one measure the effectiveness of international courts and
tribunals?
2. What role does power play in the prosecution of international crimes?
3. What are the similarities, and what are the differences, between the
ICTY and the ICC?
137
Notes
138
Chapter 13: Conclusion

This chapter reviews the theory, history, and practice of international
organisations. Against the background of the material covered in this
course and subject guide, it illustrates the utility of using theory to
interrogate history, and of using history to interrogate theory.
• describe what is at stake in the scholarly debate over the effectiveness
of international organisations
• account for the key theoretical questions that drive the research
program on international organisations
• discuss the various methodological questions that the study of
international organisations raises.
Essential reading
Hafner-Burton, Emilie M., Jana von Stein and Erik Gartzke, ‘International
Organizations Count,’ Journal of Conflict Resolution, 52(2) (April 2008),
pp.175–188.
Avant, Deborah D., Martha Finnemore and Susan K. Sell ‘Conclusion: Authority,
Legitimacy, and Accountability in Global Politics’, in D. Avant et al. (eds)
Who Governs the Globe? (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010),
pp.356–70.
Further reading
in World Politics. (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2004) third edition.
Globe? (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010).
Barnett, Michael and Martha Finnemore, Rules for the World: International
Organizations in Global Politics. (Ithaca, N.J.: Cornell University Press,
2004).
Organization. (New York: Random House, [1956] 1971) fourth edition.
Coicaud, Jean-Marc and Veijo Heiskanen (eds) The Legitimacy of International
Organizations. (New York: United Nations University Press, 2001).
Cortell, Andrew P. and James W. Davis, Jr. ‘How Do International Institutions
Matter?’, International Studies Quarterly, 40(4) (December 1996),
pp.451–78.
Dai, Xinyuan International Institutions and National Policies. (Cambridge:
Drezner, Daniel W. Locating the Proper Authorities: The Interaction of Domestic
and International Institutions. (Ann Arbor, Mich.: University of Michigan
Press, 2002).
Gehring, Thomas and Sebastian Oberthür ‘The Causal Mechanisms of
Interaction Between International Institutions’, European Journal of
International Relations, 15(1) (March 2009), pp.125–56.
Goldstein, Judith L. and Richard Steinberg (eds) International Institutions.
(London: Sage, 2010) four volumes.
139

Keohane, Robert O. ‘Governance in a Partially Globalized World’, American
Political Science Review, 95(1) (March 2001), pp.1–13.
Lomborg, Bjørn (ed.) Solutions for the World’s Biggest Problems: Costs and
Benefits. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007).
an Institutional Form. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993).
Young, Oran R. Governance in World Affairs. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University
Press, 1999).
Press, 2010).
Introduction
The preceding chapters have sought to give you an understanding of
the major theoretical and empirical aspects of the role of international
organisations in international politics, including, inter alia, their impact on:
• the practice of international cooperation and conflict
• the maintenance of international peace and security
• the management of international economic relations
• the promotion of international environmental standards
• the prosecution of international crimes
• related matters of concern to international society.
In this chapter, I advance tentative conclusions about the state of the
art in the study of international organisations. I first review important
theoretical arguments, then, in a second step, turn to empirical findings.
How do international organisations matter? Theoretical

conclusions
For much of the twentieth century, the debate over the effectiveness of
international organisations was rather simplistic. The predominant question
for most scholars was whether international organisations mattered, not
how. Little attention was paid to variation in institutional design, difference
in institutional effects across issue areas, or the specific processes and
mechanisms by which international organisations make a difference to
international outcomes. In the last 20 years in particular, the literature on
international organisations has improved markedly. This was partially a
result of the greater opening for international organisations that opened
up in the aftermath of the Cold War. But it was also related to the greater
sophistication with which IR scholars began to approach international
organisations. Neo-liberal institutionalists and constructivists in particular
have been responsible for major advances in our understanding of what
exactly international organisations do, and how and when they matter. In
an attempt to sum up, it is useful to distinguish among:
• international organisations as actors
• international organisations as forums
• international organisations as devices.
The various theoretical approaches that I introduced, and hopefully
illuminated, in this subject guide all have contributed to highlighting each
of these incarnations of international organisations.
140
First, let us look back on international organisations as actors. Contrary to

the assumptions held by realists and neo-realists, it is a widely accepted
fact that international organisations are actors in international politics
in their own right. The empirical chapters in this guide have referenced
many examples of such independent action. Although international
organisations, generally speaking, do not always have either the power
or authority to act independently from states, theoretical advances
by IR scholars have pointed to numerous ways in which international
organisations are not merely epiphenomenal.
Next are international organisations as forums. Sometimes international
organisations do not bring about international outcomes as independent
actors, but rather provide a platform for other actors – be they states or
sub-states such as NGOs – on which to engage in iterated bargaining.
According to neo-liberal institutionalists, repeated interactions often
are critical for making cooperation possible and sustainable in the
anarchic international system. But constructivists, too, have theorised
the importance of international organisations as forums. The case of the
CSCE/OSCE illustrates rather well the broader logic of their argument.
On this argument, international organisations that provide opportunities
for exchange – technical or otherwise – can have a lasting effect on the
identity of the actors (individuals, groups, states) partaking of such
exchanges. In this theoretical perspective, the contribution of international
organisations to international politics is not causal but constitutive.
Finally, it has been shown in many theoretical contributions that
international organisations also function as devices in the structuring of
international politics. For example, rationalist scholars have profitably
theorised international organisations as devices. As Hafner-Burton, von
Stein and Gartzke (2008: 177) write:
scholars often highlight the roles of IOs as commitment devices,
arguing, for instance, that IOs enable democratic leaders to
credibly signal their trade liberalization preferences, promote
cooperation on economic sanctions by establishing issue
linkages, and discourage states from imposing illegal trade
protection by making the threat to ‘see you in court’ more
credible.
Alexander Thompson (2006, 2009), whose work I discussed in Chapter 7
of this subject guide, stresses the importance of signalling arguments in the
study of international organisation. In his research on the UN, Thompson
found that some coercing states, such as the United States, will turn to
the UN Security Council because it allows them to strategically transmit
information to other states. Why would they do this? On Thompson’s
theoretical argument, states may have an incentive to do so because UNSC
approval for, say, the use of force against an adversary legitimates the
otherwise controversial international action and may have the additional
benefit of generating international support for the use of force. Other
scholars have suggested that international organisations sometimes work
not so much as commitment devices, but rather as screening devices.
What both of these rationalist perspectives have in common is a belief in
international organisations as potential transmitters of information. Since
we know that international cooperation often fails or is costly because of
information asymmetries, the ability of some international organisations
to reduce, under certain circumstances, uncertainty of interacting agents
attests to yet another way in which international organisations have come
to matter.
141
In short, the heuristic distinction among international organisations as

actors, forums and devices captures a large chunk of what these actors of
international politics actually do.
How do international organisations matter? Empirical

conclusions
International organisations have left their mark in a whole array of
practical domains. Four of the most important include:
• economic affairs
• security matters
• human rights
• environmental concerns.
All of these domains were represented in our sample of international
organisations. Yet it remains impossible to generalise about the effects
of international organisations in any of the four domains mentioned
above. Although it appears that certain issue areas are more susceptible
(for example, human rights), others less (for example, security), to the
influence of international organisations, we simply lack the empirical
evidence to make sound inferences that hold true for all international
organisations. They simply come in too many different shapes and sizes.
Our relative lack of general knowledge is compounded by the dearth of
sophisticated empirical research on international organisations, notably
research that does not treat them as unitary actors – as black boxes. As
this subject guide has shown, the tide of empirical research is changing
from macro-level perspectives to studies concentrating more on the micro-
dynamics of international organisations. This is not to say, however, that
we should dispense with quantitative analyses. In fact, until very recently
most macro-level perspectives were descriptive rather than statistical in
nature. As Hafner-Burton and her co-authors (2008) point out:
Testing has so far been difficult. Despite the richness in thinking
about how IOs shape the politics of war and conflict, until
recently, researchers who did engage in more sophisticated
analyses were limited by meager IO data. Scholars have only
recently begun to unpack the evidence systematically, cross-
nationally, over time, and/or across different institutions or
institutional features. This problem extends far beyond the study
of IOs and militarized conflict; more evidence is needed in all
kinds of areas where theories are abundant but evidence and
critical testing still lag behind.
A quick overview of the remaining three domains singled out above
helps to further illustrate the point. In terms of international economic
relations, a rich literature has sprung up on each of the major international
organisations in this realm, namely, the IMF, World Bank and GATT,
not to mention the OECD. And yet, most of this work has been driven
by rather narrow research questions, mostly rehearsing the neo-liberal
institutionalist research programme. Comparative analyses are rare. Even
more rare are studies devoted specifically to measuring the effectiveness
of these international organisations. The few studies that do grapple with
the matter have not yet succeeded in explaining in sufficient detail the
processes and mechanisms by which the international organisations of
their choice generate the effects in question.
In the domain of human rights, next, research on international
142
organisations has grown exponentially. We now possess selective

evidence to suggest that certain instruments (for example, international
treaties) or institutions (for example, international courts) have, under
very specific conditions, constrained or otherwise affected domestic
or international actors. This notwithstanding, ‘debates about whether
and how these institutions work remain unresolved or come down to
case-by-case debate’ (Hafner-Burton, von Stein and Gartzke, 2008:
178). Finally, there is the matter of the environment. To date, research
has demonstrated that international organisations have made a lasting
contribution, in some cases at least, to placing environmental concerns on
international agendas, and to promoting and disseminating new norms
about pollution, ozone depletion and the like. At the same time, we know
that international organisations working in the environmental realm do
not have the wherewithal to enforce compliance or impose sanctions for
non-compliance. It is unclear what could be done about this state of affairs
because our knowledge about which ideas have leverage, and under what
conditions, is either anecdotal or piecemeal or both.
In sum, regardless of which domain we zero in on, it is the case that our
knowledge of how international organisations matter on the ground is still
very much underdeveloped.
Conclusion
This chapter has reviewed the theory, history and practice of international
organisations, with particular reference to the subset of international
organisations that this subject guide explored in more detail in the
preceding chapters. In the course of doing so, I have also sketched
challenges and avenues for future research, so as to enable entrepreneurial
students to begin to push the boundaries in the study of international
organisations.

• describe what is at stake in the scholarly debate over the effectiveness
of international organisations
• account for the key theoretical questions that drive the research
program on international organisations
• discuss the various methodological questions that the study of
international organisations raises.

1. When do international organisations count?
2. Have international organisations supplanted states as the most
important actors in international politics?
3. How relevant is theory for making sense of international organisations?
143
Notes
144
Appendix 1: Sample examination paper
Appendix 1: Sample examination paper
Important note: This Sample examination paper reflects the

examination and assessment arrangements for this course in the academic
year 2012−2013. The format and structure of the examination may have
changed since the publication of this subject guide. You can find the most
recent examination papers on the VLE where all changes to the format of
the examination are posted.
Time allowed: three hours.

Answer ANY FOUR of the following questions.
1. What is multilateralism?
2. What are the strengths, and what are the weaknesses, of the concept
of the ‘security community’?
3. Should international relations scholars seek to explain or understand
4. To what extent is the IMF an effective actor in international politics?
5. What, according to constructivists, are the principal stumbling blocks
to international cooperation?
6. How can one measure the effectiveness of international organisations?
7. Does UN peacekeeping work?
8. The project of European integration is in crisis. Can neofunctionalism
or liberal intergovernmentalism explain this predicament?
9. Do international courts matter?
10. ‘International economic institutions have failed the developing world.’
Discuss with reference to the World Trade Organization.
11. Is UN reform feasible?
12. Compare and contrast the security architecture and objectives of
NATO and the African Union.
145
Notes
146
Appendix 2: Bibliography
Full Essential and Further reading list

Abbott, Kenneth W. and Duncan Snidal ‘Why States Act through Formal
International Organizations’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 42(1) (February
1998), pp.3−32.
Abouharb, M. Rodwan and David Cingranelli Human Rights and Structural
Adjustment. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007)
[ISBN 9780521859332].
Adler, Emanuel, ‘Seeds of Peaceful Change: The OSCE’s Security Community
Building Model’, in Emanuel Adler and Michael Barnett (eds) Security
Adler, Emanuel and Michael Barnett ‘A Framework for the Study of Security
Communities’, in Adler, Emanuel and Michael Barnett (eds) Security
Communities. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), pp. 29–65.
Adler, Emmanuel and Michael N. Barnett (eds) Security Communities.
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998) [ISBN 9780521639538].
Allen, Tim Trial Justice: The International Criminal Court and the Lord’s
Resistance Army. (London: Zed Books, 2006) [ISBN 9781842777374].
Alter, Karen J. Establishing the Supremacy of European Law: The Making of an
International Rule of Law in Europe. (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2003) [ISBN 9780199260997].
Alter, Karen J. and Sophie Meunier ‘The Politics of International Regime
Complexity’, Perspectives on Politics, 7(1) (March 2009), pp.13−24.
Alvarez, José E. ‘Judging the Security Council’, American Journal of
International Law, 90(1) (January 1996), pp.1–39.
Archer, Clive International Organizations. (London: Routledge, 2001) third
edition [ISBN 9780415246903].
in World Politics. (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2004) third edition
[ISBN 9781403903037].
Ashley, Richard K. ‘The Poverty of Neorealism’, International Organization,
38(2) (Spring 1984), pp.225–86.
Globe? (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010)
[ISBN 9780521122016].
Bache, Ian and Stephen George Politics in the European Union. (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2011) second edition [ISBN 9780199544813].
Debate. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993)
[ISBN 9780231084413].
Barnett, Michael Eyewitness to a Genocide: The United Nations and Rwanda.
(Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2003) [ISBN 9780801488672].
Barnett, Michael and Martha Finnemore, Rules for the World: International
Organizations in Global Politics. (Ithaca, N.J.: Cornell University Press,
2004) [ISBN 9780801488238].
Barnett, Michael and Raymond Duvall (eds) Power in Global Governance.
Barton, John H., Judith L. Goldstein, Timothy E. Josling and Richard H.
Steinberg The Evolution of the Trade Regime: Politics, Law, and Economics of
the GATT and the WTO. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2008)
[ISBN 9780691136165].
147
Bass, Gary Jonathan Stay the Hand of Vengeance: The Politics of War Crimes
Tribunals. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2001)
[ISBN 9780691092782].
Bearce, David H. and Stacy Bondanella ‘Intergovernmental Organizations,
Socialization, and Member-State Interest Convergence’, International
Organization, 61(4) (Autumn 2007), pp.703–33.
Beeson, Mark Institutions of the Asia Pacific: ASEAN, APEC and Beyond.
(London: Routledge, 2008) [ISBN 9780415465045].
Bermann, George A. and Petros C. Mavroidis (eds) WTO Law and Developing
Countries. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011)
[ISBN 9780521862769].
Bhagwati, Jagdish N. (ed.) The New International Economic Order: The North-
South Debate. (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1977)
[ISBN 9780262021265].
Blyth, Mark ‘Powering, Puzzling, or Persuading? The Mechanisms of Building
Institutional Orders’, International Studies Quarterly, 51(4) (December
2007), pp.761–77.
Bosco, David L. Five to Rule Them All: The UN Security Council and the Making
of the Modern World. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009)
[ISBN 9780195328769].
Bull, Hedley The Anarchical Society: A Study of Order in World Politics.
(Basingstoke: Palgrave, [1977] 2002; 2012) [ISBN 9780231161299])
third/fourth edition.
Buzan, Barry, Charles Jones and Richard Little The Logic of Anarchy: Neorealism
to Structural Realism. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993)
[ISBN 9780231080415].
Carr, E.H. The Twenty Years’ Crisis, 1919–1939: An Introduction to the Study of
International Relations. (Basingstoke: Palgrave, [1939] 2001) new edition
[ISBN 9780333963777].
Checkel, Jeffrey T. ‘The Constructivist Turn in International Relations Theory’,
World Politics, 50(2) (January 1998), pp.324–48.
Checkel, Jeffrey T. ‘Why Comply? Social Learning and European Identity
Change’, International Organization, 55(3) (Summer 2001), pp.553–88.
Checkel, Jeffrey T. ‘International Institutions and Socialization in Europe:
Introduction and Framework’, International Organization, 59(4) (Autumn
2005), pp.801–26.
Checkel, Jeffrey T. (ed.) International Institutions and Socialization in Europe.
Chesterman, Simon, Thomas M. Franck and David M. Malone (eds) Law and
Practice of the United Nations: Documents and Commentary. (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2008) [ISBN 9780195308433].
Chwieroth, Jeffrey M. Capital Ideas: The IMF and the Rise of Financial
Liberalization. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2009)
[ISBN 9780691142326].
Clapham, Christopher Africa and the International System: The Politics of State
Survival. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996)
[ISBN 9780521576680].
Organization. (New York: Random House, [1956] 1971) fourth edition
[ISBN 9780394310039].
Coicaud, Jean-Marc and Veijo Heiskanen (eds) The Legitimacy of International
Organizations. (New York: United Nations University Press, 2001)
[ISBN 9789280810530].
Copelovitch, Mark S. The International Monetary Fund in the Global Economy:
Banks, Bonds, and Bailouts. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010)
[ISBN 9780521143585].
Cortell, Andrew P. and James W. Davis, Jr. ‘How Do International Institutions
Matter?’, International Studies Quarterly, 40(4) (December 1996),
pp.451–78.
148
Cox, Robert W. with Timothy J. Sinclair Approaches to World Order.

Craig, Paul and Gráinne de Búrca (eds) The Evolution of EU Law. (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2011) second edition [ISBN 9780199592968].
Cronin, Bruce and Ian Hurd (eds) The UN Security Council and the Politics of
International Authority. (London: Routledge, 2008)
[ISBN 9780415775281].
Cryer, Robert, Hakan Friman, Darryl Robinson and Elizabeth Wilmshurst
An Introduction to International Criminal Law and Procedure. (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2010) second edition [ISBN 9780521135818].
Curtin, Deirdre Executive Power of the European Union: Law, Practices, and the
Living Constitution. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009)
[ISBN 9780199264094].
Daalder, Ivo and James Goldgeier ‘Global NATO’, Foreign Affairs, 85(5)
(September/October 2006), pp.105–13.
Dai, Xinyuan International Institutions and National Policies. (Cambridge:
Davis, Christina L. Why Adjudicate? Enforcing Trade Rules in the WTO.
(Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2012)
[ISBN 9780691152769].
Deitelhoff, Nicole ‘The Discursive Process of Legalization: Charting Islands of
Persuasion in the ICC Case’, International Organization, 63(1) (January
2009), pp.33–65.
Oxford University Press, 2006) [ISBN 9780199267927].
(New York: Norton, 1997) [ISBN 9780393969474].
Drezner, Daniel W. Locating the Proper Authorities: The Interaction of Domestic
and International Institutions. (Ann Arbor, Mich.: University of Michigan
Press, 2002) [ISBN 9780472112890].
Drumbl, Mark Atrocity, Punishment, and International Law. (Cambridge:
Duffield, John ‘What Are International Institutions?’, International Studies
Review, 9(1) (Spring 2007), pp.1−22.
Easterly, William The White Man’s Burden: Why the West’s Efforts to Aid the Rest
Have Done So Much Ill and So Little Good. (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2006) [ISBN 9780199226115].
Edkins, J. and N. Vaughan-Williams Critical Theorists and International
Relations. (Oxford: Routledge, 2009) [ISBN 9780415474665].
Eichengreen, Barry Globalizing Capital: A History of the International Monetary
System. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2008) second edition
[ISBN 9780691139371].
Eichengreen, Barry, Poonam Gupta and Rajiv Kumar (eds) Emerging Giants:
China and India in the World Economy. (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2010) [ISBN 9780199575077].
Elman, Colin (ed.) Realism Reader. (London: Routledge, 2011)
[ISBN 9780415773546].
Evans, Malcolm The African Charter on Human and People’s Rights: The System
in Practice 1986–2006. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011)
Fawcett, Louise and Andrew Hurrell (eds) Regionalism in World Politics:
Regional Organization and International Order. (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1996) [ISBN 9780198280675].
Feinberg, Richard E. ‘The Changing Relationship between the World Bank and
the International Monetary Fund’, International Organization, 42(3) (June
1988), pp.545–60.
Finnemore, Martha ‘International Organizations as Teachers of Norms: The
149
United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization and Science

Policy’, International Organization, 47(4) (Autumn 1993), pp.565–97.
Finnemore, Martha and Kathryn Sikkink ‘International Norm Dynamics and
Political Change’, International Organization, 52(4) (October 1998),
pp.887–917.
Fleury, Antoine ‘The League of Nations: Toward a New Appreciation of its
History’, in Manfred F. Boemeke, Gerald D. Feldman and Elisabeth Glaser
(eds) The Treaty of Versailles: A Reassessment after 75 Years. (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2006) [ISBN 9780521628884], pp.507–22.
Flockart, Trine ‘“Masters and Novices”: Socialization and Social Learning
through the NATO Parliamentary Assembly’, International Relations, 18(3)
(September 2004), pp.361–80.
Flynn, Gregory and Henry Farrell ‘Piecing Together the Democratic Peace: The
CSCE Norms and the “Construction” of Security in Post-Cold War Europe’,
International Organization, 53(3) (July 1999), pp.505–35.
Forsythe, David P. The Humanitarians: The International Committee of the Red
Cross. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2005)
[ISBN 9780521612814].
Franke, Benedikt ‘Africa’s Evolving Security Architecture and the Concept
of Multilayered Security Communities’, Cooperation and Conflict, 43(3)
(September 2008), pp.313–40.
Gehring, Thomas and Sebastian Oberthür ‘The Causal Mechanisms of
Interaction Between International Institutions’, European Journal of
International Relations, 15(1) (March 2009), pp.125–56.
Gheciu, Alexandra ‘Security Institutions as Agents of Socialization? NATO and
the “New Europe”’, International Organization, 59(4) (October 2005),
pp.973–1012.
Gilligan, Michael J. ‘Is Enforcement Necessary for Effectiveness? A Model of
the International Criminal Regime’, International Organization, 60(4) (Fall
2006), pp.935–67.
Gilpin, Robert War and Change in World Politics. (Cambridge: Cambridge
Gilpin, Robert Global Political Economy: Understanding the International
Economic Order. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2001)
[ISBN 9780691086774].
Goldstein, Judith L. and Richard H. Steinberg ‘Regulatory Shift: The Rise of
Judicial Liberalization at the WTO’, in Walter Mattli and Ngaire Woods
(eds) The Politics of Global Regulation. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 2009) [ISBN 9780691139616], pp.211−41.
Goldstein, Judith L. and Richard Steinberg (eds) International Institutions.
(London: Sage, 2010) four volumes [ISBN 9781847878984].
Goldstein, Judith L., Douglas Rivers and Michael Tomz ‘Institutions in
International Relations: Understanding the Effects of the GATT and the
WTO on World Trade’, International Organization, 61(1) (January 2007),
pp.37–67.
Goodman, Ryan and Derek Jinks ‘How to Influence States: Socialization and
International Human Rights Law’, Duke Law Journal, 54(3) (December
2004), pp.621–703.
Gosovic, Branislav and John G. Ruggie ‘On the Creation of a New International
Economic Order: Issue Linkage and the Seventh Special Session of the
UN General Assembly’, International Organization, 30(2) (Spring 1976),
pp.309–45.
Grieco, Joseph M., ‘Anarchy and the Limits of Cooperation: A Realist Critique
of the Newest Liberal Institutionalism’, International Organization, 42(3)
(Summer 1988), pp.485−507.
Gruber, Lloyd Ruling the World: Power Politics and the Rise of Supranational
Institutions. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000)
[ISBN 9780691010410].
150
Haas, Ernst B. When Knowledge is Power: Three Models of Change in

International Organizations. (Berkeley, Cal.: University of California Press,
1990) [ISBN 9780520074026].
Haas, Ernst B. The Uniting of Europe: Political, Social and Economic Forces,
1950–1957. (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2003)
[ISBN 9780268043476].
Haas, Peter M. ‘Introduction: Epistemic Communities and International Policy
Coordination’, International Organization, 46(1) (December 1992), pp.1–35.
Hafner-Burton, Emilie M., Jana von Stein and Erik Gartzke, ‘International
Organizations Count’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 52(2) (April 2008),
pp.175–88.
Haftel, Yoram Z. and Alexander Thompson ‘The Independence of International
Organizations’, Journal of Conflict Resolution, 50(2) (April 2006),
pp.253−75.
Haftendorn, Helga, Robert O. Keohane and Celeste Wallander (eds) Imperfect
Unions: Security Institutions Over Time and Space. (Oxford: Oxford
Hartzell, Caroline, Matthew Hoodie and Molly Bauer ‘Economic Liberalization
via IMF Structural Adjustment: Sowing the Seeds of Civil War?’,
Hasenclever, Andreas, Peter Mayer and Volker Rittberger Theories of
International Regimes. (Cambridge : Cambridge University Press, 1997)
[ISBN 9780521598491].
Hawkins, Darren G., David A. Lake, Daniel L. Nielson and Michael J. Tierney
(eds) Delegation and Agency in International Organizations. (Cambridge:
Hollis, Martin, and Steve Smith Explaining and Understanding International
Relations (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991) [ISBN 9780198275893],
pp.45−91.
Herbst, Jeffrey ‘The Creation and Maintenance of National Boundaries in
Africa’, International Organization, 43(4) (September 1989), pp.673–92.
Herbst, Jeffrey States and Power in Africa: Comparative Lessons in Authority and
Control. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2000)
[ISBN 9780691010281].
Herman, Barry, José Antonio Ocampo and Shari Spiegel (eds) Overcoming
Developing Country Debt Crises. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010)
[ISBN 9780199578795].
Hill, Christopher International Relations and the EU. (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2011) fourth edition [ISBN 9780582472938].
Hollis, Martin and Steve Smith Explaining and Understanding International
Relations. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991) [ISBN 9780198275893].
Hooghe, Liesbet ‘Several Roads Lead to International Norms, but Few via
International Socialization: A Case Study of the European Commission’,
International Organization, 59(4) (October 2005), pp. 861–98.
Hopf, Ted ‘The Promise of Constructivism in International Relations Theory’,
International Security, 23(1) (Summer 1998), pp.171–200.
Howe, Herbert ‘Lessons of Liberia: ECOMOG and Regional Peacekeeping’,
International Security, 21(3) (Winter 1996–97), pp.145–76.
Hurd, Ian ‘The Strategic Use of Liberal Internationalism: Libya and the UN
Sanctions, 1992–2003’, International Organization, 59(3) (Summer 2005),
pp.495−526.
Hurd, Ian After Anarchy: Legitimacy and Power in the United Nations Security
Council. (Princeton, N.J: Princeton University Press, 2008), pp.83–136.
Irwin, Douglas A., Petros C. Mavroidis and Alan O. Sykes The Genesis of the
GATT. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009)
[ISBN 9780521515610].
151
Jackson, John H. The Jurisprudence of GATT and the WTO: Insights on Treaty
Law and Economic Relations. (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2007) [ISBN 9780521035644].
Jackson, John H. Sovereignty, the WTO, and Changing Fundamentals of
International Law. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009)
[ISBN 9780521748414].
Jackson, Robert H. Quasi-States: Sovereignty, International Relations and the
Third World. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993)
[ISBN 9780521447836].
Johnston, Alastair Iain ‘Treating International Institutions as Social
Environments’, International Studies Quarterly, 45(4) (December 2001),
pp.487–515.
Johnston, Alastair Iain Social States: China in International Institutions, 1980–
2000. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2007)
[ISBN 9780691134536].
Jolly, Richard, Louis Emmerij and Thomas G. Weiss UN Ideas That Changed the
World. (Indiana: Indiana University Press, 2009) [ISBN 9780253221186].
Jones, Kent The Doha Blues: Institutional Crisis and Reform at the WTO.
(Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009) [ISBN 9780195378825].
Joseph, Sarah Blame it on the WTO? A Human Rights Critique. (Oxford: Oxford
Kamanu, Onyeonoro S. ‘Secession and the Right to Self-Determination: An
OAU Dilemma’, Journal of Modern African Studies, 12(3) (September 1974),
pp.355–76.
Katzenstein, Peter J. (ed.) The Culture of National Security: Norms and Identity
in World Politics. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1996)
[ISBN 9780231104692].
Kelley, Judith ‘International Actors on the Domestic Scene: Membership
Conditionality and Socialization by International Institutions’, International
Organization, 58(3) (July 2004), pp.425–57.
Kelley, Judith ‘Who Keeps International Commitments and Why? The
International Criminal Court and Bilateral Nonsurrender Agreements’,
American Political Science Review, 101(3) (August 2007), pp.573–89.
Kelsall, Tim Culture under Cross-Examination: International Justice and the
Special Court for Sierra Leone. (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2009) [ISBN 9780521767781].
World Government. (London: Allen Lane, 2006) [ISBN 9780713993752].
Keohane, Robert O. (ed.) Neorealism and its Critics. (New York: Columbia
Keohane, Robert O. ‘International Institutions: Two Approaches’, International
Studies Quarterly, 23(4) (December 1988), pp.379−96.
Keohane, Robert O. ‘Governance in a Partially Globalized World’, American
Political Science Review, 95(1) (March 2001), pp.1–13.
Keohane, Robert O. After Hegemony: Cooperation and Discord in the World
Economy. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2005)
[ISBN 9780691122489].
Keohane, Robert O. and Lisa L. Martin ‘The Promise of Institutionalist Theory’,
International Security, 20(1) (Summer 1995), pp.39−51.
Keohane, Robert O. and Joseph S. Nye Power and Interdependence: World
Politics in Transition. (New York, London: Longman, c2001; c2012)
[ISBN 9780205082919]
Keohane, Robert O, Stephen Macedo and Andrew Moravcsik ‘Democracy-
Enhancing Multilateralism’, International Organization, 63(1) (Winter
2009), pp.1−31.
152
WTO. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2010)
[ISBN 9780801448867].
Krasner, Stephen (ed.) International Regimes. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University
Press, 1983) [ISBN 9780801492501].
Autumn 1986), pp.753−75.
Kuziemko, Ilyana and Eric Werker ‘How Much Is a Seat on the Security Council
Worth? Foreign Aid and Bribery at the United Nations’, Journal of Political
Economy, 114(5) (October 2006), pp.905–30.
Lee, Yong-Shik Reclaiming Development in the World Trading System. (Princeton,
N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2009) [ISBN 9780521136082].
Myths, and Models. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007)
[ISBN 9780521697606].
Loescher, Gil The UNHCR and World Politics: A Perilous Path. (Oxford: Oxford
Lomborg, Bjørn (ed.) Solutions for the World’s Biggest Problems: Costs and
Benefits. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007)
[ISBN 9780521715973].
Lowe, Vaughan, Adam Roberts, Jennifer Welsh and Dominik Zaum (eds) The
United Nations Security Council and War: The Evolution of Thought and
Practice since 1945. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010)
[ISBN 9780199533435].
Majone, Giandomenico Europe as the Would-Be World Power: The EU at Fifty.
Makinda, Samuel M. and F. Wafula Okumu The African Union: Challenges of
Globalization, Security, and Governance. (London: Routledge, 2010)
[ISBN 9780415403498].
Manby, Bronwen ‘The African Union, NEPAD, and Human Rights: The Missing
Agenda’, Human Rights Quarterly, 26(4) (November 2004), pp.983–1027.
Marks, Gary, Liesbeth Hooghe and Kermit Blank ‘European Integration from
the 1980s: State-Centric vs. Multi-Level Governance’, Journal of Common
Market Studies, 34(3) (September 1996), pp. 341–78.
Martin, Lisa L. and Beth A. Simmons ‘Theories and Empirical Studies of
International Institutions’, International Organization, 52(4) (October
1998), pp.729−57.
Martin, Lisa and Beth Simmons (eds) International Institutions: An International
Organization Reader. (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 2001)
[ISBN 9780262632232].
Matsushita, Mitsui, Thomas J. Schoenbaum and Petros C. Mavroidis The World
Trade Organization: Law, Practice, and Policy. (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 2012) second edition [ISBN 9780199571857].
Mattli, Walter and Ngaire Woods (eds) The Politics of Global Regulation.
(Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2009) [ISBN 9780691139616].
May, Ernest R., Richard Rosecrance and Zara Steiner (eds) History and
Neorealism. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010)
[ISBN 9780521132244].
Origins of the United Nations. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 2009) [ISBN 9780691135212].
Mazzeo, Domenico (ed.) African Regional Organizations. (Cambridge:
McCalla, Robert B. ‘NATO’s Persistence after the Cold War’, International
Organization, 50(3) (June 1996), 445–75.
Mearsheimer, John J. ‘The False Promise of International Institutions’,
International Security, 19(3) (Winter 1994/95), pp.73−91.
153
Mearsheimer, John J. The Tragedy of Great Power Politics. (New York:

Norton, 2002) [ISBN 9780393978391].
Meierhenrich, Jens and Keiko Ko ‘How Do States Join the International
Criminal Court? The Implementation of the Rome Statute in Japan’, Journal
of International Criminal Justice, 7(2) (May 2009), pp.233–56.
Meléndez-Ortiz, Ricardo and Gregory C. Shaffer (eds) Dispute Settlement at
the WTO: The Developing Country Experience. (Cambridge: Cambridge
Mettraux, Guénaël International Crimes and the Ad Hoc Tribunals. (Oxford:
Meyer, Christoph O. ‘Convergence Towards a European Strategic Culture?
A Constructivist Framework for Explaining Changing Norms’, European
Journal of International Relations, 11(4) (December 2005), pp.523–49.
Meyer, Peter and Volker Rittberger (eds) Regime Theory and International
Relations. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1995) [ISBN 9780198280293].
Moravcsik, Andrew ‘Preferences and Power in the European Community: An
Intergovernmentalist Approach’, Journal of Common Market Studies, 31(4)
(December 1993), pp. 473–524.
Moravcsik, Andrew ‘Taking Preferences Seriously: A Liberal Theory of
International Politics’, International Organization, 51(4) (Autumn 1997),
pp.513−53.
Moravcsik, Andrew The Choice for Europe: Social Purpose and State Power from
Messina to Maastricht. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1998)
[ISBN 9781857281927].
Morgenthau, Hans J. Politics Among Nations: The Struggle for Power and Peace.
(Boston, Mass.: McGraw-Hill, [1948] 2005) seventh edition
[ISBN 9780072895391].
Murphy, Craig N. International Organisation and Industrial Change: Global
Governance since 1850. (Cambridge: Polity, 1994) [ISBN 9780745612249].
Murphy, Craig N. The United Nations Development Programme: A Better Way?
Murray, Rachel Human Rights in Africa: From the OAU to the African Union.
Nettelfield, Lara J. Courting Democracy in Bosnia and Herzegovina: The Hague
Tribunal’s Impact in a Postwar State. (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2010) [ISBN 9780521763806].
Norrlof, Carla America’s Global Advantage: US Hegemony and International
Cooperation. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010)
[ISBN 9780521749381].
Northedge, Fred The League of Nations. (Leicester: Leicester University Press,
1986) [ISBN 9780718511944].
Okafor, Obiora Chinedu The African Human Rights System, Activist Forces and
International Institutions. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010)
[ISBN 9780521184038].
Orakhelashvili, Alexander Collective Security. (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
2011) [ISBN 9780199579846].
Park, Sysan and Antje Vetterlein (eds) Owning Development: Creating Policy
Norms in the IMF and World Bank. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2010) [ISBN 9780521198950].
Parsons, Craig ‘Showing Ideas as Causes: The Origins of the European Union’,
International Organization, 56(1) (Winter 2002), pp.47−84.
Patterson, Dennis and Ari Afilalo The New Global Trading Order: The Evolving
State and the Future of Trade. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2010) [ISBN 9780521124683].
Peskin, Victor International Justice in Rwanda and the Balkans: Virtual Trials and
the Struggle for State Cooperation. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2009) [ISBN 9780521129121].
154
Pevehouse, Jon and Bruce Russett ‘Democratic International Governmental

Organizations Promote Peace’, International Organization, 60(4) (Fall
2006), pp.969−1000.
Phillips, David A. Reforming the World Bank: Twenty Years of Trial and Error.
Pollack, Mark A. The Engines of European Integration: Delegation, Agency, and
Agenda Setting in the EU. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003)
[ISBN 9780199251179].
Pop-Eleches, Grigore From Economic Crisis to Reform: IMF Programs in Latin
America and Eastern Europe. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press,
2008) [ISBN 9780691139524].
Pouliot, Vincent International Security in Practice: The Politics of NATO-Russia
Diplomacy. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010)
[ISBN 9780521122030].
Rasche, Andreas and Georg Kell (eds) The United Nations Global Compact:
Achievements, Trends and Challenges. (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2010) [ISBN 9780521145534].
Reinelda, Bob Routledge History of International Organizations: From 1815 to
the Present Day. (London: Routledge, 2009) [ISBN 9780415476249].
Reiter, Dan ‘Why NATO Enlargement Does Not Spread Democracy’,
International Security, 25(4) (Spring 2001), pp.41–67.
Rengger, N. and R. Thirkwell-White ‘Still Critical After all These Years? The
Past, Present and Future of Critical Theory in International Relations’,
Review of International Studies, 33(2007), pp.3–24.
Risse, Thomas ‘“Let’s Argue!”: Communicative Action in World Politics’,
International Organization, 54(1) (January 2000), pp.1–39.
Risse, Thomas A Community of Europeans? Transnational Identities and Public
Spheres. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2010)
[ISBN 9780801476488].
Risse-Kappen, Thomas ‘Collective Identity in a Democratic Community: The
Case of NATO’, in Peter J. Katzenstein (ed.) The Culture of National Security:
Norms and Identity in World Politics. (New York: Columbia University Press,
1996) [ISBN 9780231104692].
Rittberger, Volker, Bernhard Zangl and Andreas Kruck International
Organization. (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2012) second edition
[ISBN 9780230291881].
Roberts, Adam and Benedict Kingsbury (eds) United Nations, Divided World:
The UN’s Roles in International Relations. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993)
Rochester, J. Martin ‘The Rise and Fall of International Organization as a
Field of Study’, International Organization, 40(4) (September 1986),
pp.777−813.
Rothstein, Robert L. ‘Regime-Creation by a Coalition of the Weak: Lessons
from the NIEO and the Integrated Program for Commodities’, International
Studies Quarterly, 28(3) (September 1984), pp.307–28.
Ruggie, John Gerard ‘International Regimes, Transactions, and Change:
Embedded Liberalism in the Postwar Economic Order’, International
Organization, 36(2) (March 1982), pp.379−415.
Ruggie, John Gerard ‘Multilateralism: The Anatomy of an Institution’,
International Organization, 46(3) (Summer 1992), pp.561–98.
an Institutional Form. (New York: Columbia University Press, 1993)
[ISBN 9780231079808].
Ruggie, John Gerard Constructing the World Polity: Essays on International
Institutionalisation. (London: Routledge, 1998) [ISBN 9780415099912].
Russett, Bruce and John R. Oneal Triangulating Peace: Democracy,
Interdependence, and International Organizations. (New York: Norton, 2001)
[ISBN 9780393976847].
155
Sarfaty, Galit A. ‘Why Culture Matters in International Institutions: The

Marginality of Human Rights at the World Bank’, American Journal of
International Law, 103(4) (October 2009), pp.647–83.
Schabas, William A. The UN International Criminal Tribunals: The former
Yugoslavia, Rwanda and Sierra Leone. (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2006) [ISBN 9780521609081].
Schabas, William An Introduction to the International Criminal Court.
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011) fourth edition
[ISBN 9780521151955].
Schake, Kori ‘NATO after the Cold War 1991–1995: Institutional Competition
and the Collapse of the French Alternative’, Contemporary European History,
7(3) (November 1998), pp.379−407.
Scheffer, David, All the Missing Souls: A Personal History of the War Crimes
Tribunals. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2011)
[ISBN 9780691140155].
Schimmelfennig, Frank and Sedelmeier, Ulrich ‘Theorising EU Enlargement:
Research Focus, Hypotheses, and the State of Research’, Journal of European
Public Policy, 9(4) (August 2002), pp.500–28.
Simmons, Beth A. and Lisa L. Martin ‘International Organizations and
Institutions’, in Walter Carlsnaes, Thomas Risse and Beth A. Simmons (eds)
Handbook of International Relations. (London: Sage, 2002)
[ISBN 9780761963059], pp.192−211.
Shimizu, Hirofumi and Todd Sandler ‘Peacekeeping and Burden-Sharing,
1994–2000’, Journal of Peace Research, 39(6) (November 2002), pp.651–68.
Simmons, Beth A. ‘The Legalization of International Monetary Affairs’,
International Organization, 54(3) (August 2000), pp.573–602.
Simmons, Beth A. and Allison Danner ‘Credible Commitments and the
International Criminal Court’, International Organization, 64(2) (April
2010), pp.225–56.
Smith, Steve, Ken Booth and Marysia Zalewski (eds) International Theory:
Positivism and Beyond. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996)
[ISBN 9780521479486].
Snyder, Jack L. and Leslie Vinjamuri ‘Trials and Errors: Principle and
Pragmatism in Strategies of International Justice’, International Security,
28(3) (Winter 2003/04), pp.5–44.
Sornarajah, Muthucumaraswamy and Jiangyu Wang (eds) China, India, and the
International Economic Order. (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2010) [ISBN 9780521110570].
Stein, Howard Beyond the World Bank Agenda: An Institutional Approach to
Development. (Chicago, Ill.: University of Chicago Press, 2008)
[ISBN 9780226771670].
Sterling-Folker, Jennifer ‘Competing Paradigms or Birds of a Feather?
Constructivism and Neoliberal Institutionalism Compared’, International
Studies Quarterly, 44(1) (March 2000), pp.97–119.
Stone, Randall W. ‘The Scope of IMF Conditionality’, International Organization,
62(4) (October 2008), pp.589–620.
Thakur, Ramesh The United Nations, Peace and Security: From Collective
Security to the Responsibility to Protect. (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2006) [ISBN 9780521671255].
Thies, Wallace J. Why NATO Endures. (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2009) [ISBN 9780521749794].
Thomas, Daniel C. The Helsinki Effect: International Norms, Human Rights,
and the Demise of Communism. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University
Press, 2001) [ISBN 9780691048598].
Thompson, Alexander ‘Coercion through IOs: The Security Council and the
Logic of Information Transmission’, International Organization, 60(1)
(Winter 2006), pp.1–34.
156
Thompson, Alexander Channels of Power: The UN Security Council and US

Statecraft in Iraq. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2010)
[ISBN 9780801476372].
Tieku, Thomas Kwasi ‘Explaining the Clash and Accommodation of Interests of
Major Actors in the Creation of the African Union’, African Affairs, 103(411)
(April 2004), pp.49–267.
Tieku, Thomas Kwasi ‘Multilateralization of Democracy Promotion and Defense
in Africa’, Africa Today, 56(2) (Winter 2009), pp.75–91.
Toga, Dawit ‘The African Union Mediation and the Abuja Peace Talks’, in Alex
de Waal (ed.) War in Darfur and the Search for Peace. (Cambridge: Global
Equity Initiative, 2007) [ISBN 9780674023673], pp.214–44.
1945–1963. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1999)
[ISBN 9780691002736].
Trachtman, Joel P. ‘The WTO and Development Policy in China and India’, in
Muthucumaraswamy Sornarajah and Jiangyu Wang (eds) China, India, and
2010) [ISBN 9780521110570], pp.17–52.
Tsebelis, George and Geoffrey Garrett ‘The Institutional Foundations of
Intergovernmentalism and Supranationalism in the European Union’,
Van de Walle, Nicolas African Economies and the Politics of Permanent Crisis,
1979–1999. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001)
[ISBN 9780521008365].
Viljoen, Frans International Human Rights Law in Africa. (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2012) second edition [ISBN 9780199645596].
Voeten, Eric ‘Clashes in the Assembly’, International Organization, 54(2)
(Spring 2002), pp.185–215.
Vreeland, James Raymond The IMF and Economic Development. (Cambridge:
Wade, Robert and V. Venereso ‘The Asian Crisis: The High Debt Model vs. the
Wall Street-IMF-Treasury Complex’, New Left Review, 228 (March/April
1998), pp.3–23.
Wagner, Sarah E. To Know Where He Lies: DNA Technology and the Search for
Srebrenica’s Missing. (Berkeley, Cal.: University of California Press, 2008)
[ISBN 9780520255753].
Walker, Neil The Past and Future of the European Constitution. (Oxford: Oxford
Wallander, Celeste ‘Institutional Assets and Adaptability: NATO after the Cold
War’, International Organization, 54(4) (Autumn 2000), pp.705–35.
Walt, Stephen M. The Origins of Alliances. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University
Press, 1987) [ISBN 9780801494185].
Walt, Stephen ‘Why Alliances Endure or Collapse’, Survival, 39(1) (Spring
1997), pp.156–79.
Waltz, Kenneth N. Theory of International Politics. (Boston, Mass.:
McGraw-Hill, 2010) [ISBN 9780075548522].
Weaver, Catherine Hypocrisy Trap: The World Bank and the Poverty of Reform.
(Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2008) [ISBN 9780691138190].
Weber, Steve ‘Shaping the Postwar Balance of Power: Multilateralism in NATO’,
International Organization, 46(3) (June 1992), pp.633–80.
Weindling, Paul International Health Organisations and Movements, 1918–1939.
Weiss, Thomas G. What’s Wrong with the United Nations (and How to Fix It).
(Cambridge: Polity, 2012) [ISBN 9780745642987].
Weiss, Thomas G. and Sam Daws (eds) The Oxford Handbook on the United
Nations. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008) [ISBN 9780199560103].
157
Wendt, Alexander ‘Driving with the Rearview Mirror: On the Rational Science
of Institutional Design’, International Organization, 55(04) (November
2001), pp.1019–49.
Wendt, Alexander ‘Anarchy is What States Make of it: The Social Construction
of Power Politics’, International Organization 46(2) (Spring 1992),
pp.391–425.
Wiener, Antje and Thomas Diez (eds) European Integration Theory. (Oxford:
Williams, Paul D. ‘From Non-Intervention to Non-Indifference: The Origins and
Development of African Union’s Security Culture’, African Affairs, 106(423)
(April 2007), pp.253–79.
Wilson, Richard A. Writing History in International Criminal Tribunals.
Ngaire Woods The Globalizers: The IMF, the World Bank, and Their Borrowers.
(Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 2007) [ISBN 9780801474200].
Young, Oran R. Governance in World Affairs. (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University
Press, 1999) [ISBN 9780801486234].
Press, 2010) [ISBN 9780521138659].
158

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International organisations

University of London International Programmes

Published by: University of London

Regime theory of international institutions: Stephen Krasner......................................... 33

How the IMF works ..................................................................................................... 71

Chapter 11: The Organisation of African Unity (1963) and the

This study of international organisations, a 200 course, builds on the

How to use this guide

The purpose of the subject guide

Online study resources

Making use of the Online Library

latter in particular contain valuable information about how to approach

Recommended study time

ICTR International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda

Chapter 1: The study of international

Aims and learning outcomes

Rittberger, Volker, Bernhard Zangl and Andreas Kruck International

among the most complex of these phenomena. Put differently, newcomers

[Multilateralism] is the practice of co-ordinating national policies

or mixed goods. By way of example, an international organisation such as

bestowed exclusively in the iconic building on New York City’s East

To be sure, focusing on the pathologies of international organisations

Independent variable Conjecture Dependent variable

Figure 1.1: The nature of explanation

of international conflict. The testing of a hypothesis such as this involves

A reminder of your learning outcomes

Sample examination questions

Part I: The theory of international

Aims and learning outcomes

Vasquez, John A. The Power of Power Politics: From Classical Realism to

Classical realism, or the tragic view of international

of this is significant because it serves to highlight important theoretical

From classical realism to structural realism

The ‘relative gains problem’ in international cooperation

showed that states not only worry about interest-maximisation as such,

The false promise of international institutions: John

A reminder of your learning outcomes

Sample examination questions

Aims and learning outcomes

Classical liberalism, or the idealistic view of

From idealism to pluralism

From pluralism to neo-liberal institutionalism

Game theory of international institutions: Robert

principal–agent theories of international organisations have sought

Regime theory of international institutions: Stephen

actors in international politics occasionally comply out of habit rather

Peace theory of international institutions: Bruce Russett

dispute settlement. Because they favour mediation and other forms of

A reminder of your learning outcomes

Sample examination questions

Aims and learning outcomes

Edkins, J. and N. Vaughan-Williams Critical Theorists and International

that underpin the scientific versions of realism and liberalism respectively,

From rationalism to cognitivism

consequences (a means−ends rationale), but often ground their behaviour

Social theory of international institutions: Michael

to actively promote, in the 1950s, setting up science programmes. By

Micro-processes of socialisation: Alastair Ian Johnston

socialisation processes, Johnston distinguishes among two different micro-

A reminder of your learning outcomes

Sample examination questions

Part II: The history of international

Chapter 5: A history of international

Aims and learning outcomes