In the foreign policy arena, decision-making represents that area of governmental action where domestic and foreign interests intermesh. Regardless of size, resources or power, all states operate in an international environment not of their own making and not under their own control. This international system creates and limits the state's possible actions and reactions. At the same time, all those involved in national foreign policy making act in a domestic context which shapes the national interest and the choice of options. Given this Janus-like position, nations respond to common problems but evolve distinctive and different methods of handling them. A comparison between British and American practice reveals striking parallels and contrasts.

In this essay I examine the main characteristics of the proposals which have been put forward over the past few years for the reform of international institutions, particularly the United Nations. The latter's social and economic arrangements in particular have been subject to a series of incisive, hard hitting reports—the most recent being Maurice Bertrand's Report of December 19851—which have themselves become almost a matter of routine: nothing changes, even the intelligence and perception of the criticism. This essay is intended to provide a part of the answer to the question of why nothing is ever done. In addition to difficulties arising from the interests of states and organizations which are involved, there are also a range of problems arising from different conceptions of what international organizations are and can do. This essay deals with the latter. The conceptions dealt with are those found in the writings of students of international organization, largely British and American, rather than in the words or deeds of practitioners. The nature of the link between scholarly writing and the practice of international relations is itself complex and contentious and is not explored in this essay. The minimalist assumptions are made, however, that disagreements among scholars make it less likely that practitioners will agree to co-operate, and that scholarly reconciliation is at least a first step towards practical improvement.

In the forty years since the Second World War there have been many situations which have been widely viewed as military occupations—that is, where the armed forces of a country are in control of inhabited territory beyond the recognized boundaries of their own state. Hungary in 1956, the Israeli-occupied territories since 1967, Namibia since 1968, northern Cyprus since 1974, Western Sahara since 1975 and Kampuchea since 1978 have been among the territories which have been designated as ‘occupied’ in UN General Assembly resolutions.

Whether the literature is new or old, two observations have repeatedly been made about intervention. The first is that intervention is a ubiquitous and endemic feature of the international arena. Guelke argues, for example, that intervention is ‘inherent in the nature of international society’ and, more recently, Bull sums up the views of a series of authors who all agree, he says, that intervention is a ‘built-in feature of our present international arrangements’. Not only do the great powers persistently intervene in the domestic affairs of small states such as Vietnam and Afghanistan, but there is also a tendency for small states to interfere inside each other's boundaries. Egypt, Syria, Cuba, Vietnam and a host of other small states have all conducted policies of intervention. It is also argued, moreover, that as the global economy becomes more interdependent, the potential for intervention is constantly on the increase. The decision to extend or refuse credit facilities, for example, can be seen as a very effective mechanism for intervening in the domestic affairs of the state.

Why study international relations? Is it simply because, like Everest, they are there? Or is it in order more effectively to empathize with international statesmen? Or is it to seek such a measure of understanding of structures and processes that interventions to change them in desirable ways may have increasing probabilities of success? Garnett most neatly attaches himself to the first of these positions. The contributors to the scholarly Bull and Watson volume (or more exactly, most of the contributors) seem to hold the second view. Kubalkova and Cruickshank, Strange, and Banks have the third objective in mind, although in very different ways, and with varying degrees of explicitness. The choice of objective made by a scholar is determined not merely by his interests and the intellectual and analytical skills of which he has made himself master, but also by his epistemological assumptions. Thus Garnett and Bull would assert that, in contrast with the ‘exact’ sciences, it is erroneous to suppose that scientific methods can be employed in the study of social questions, and that any attempt so to do and thereby to arrive at advice about action must be mistaken—and dangerous to the extent that it creates expectations about results that are as likely to be falsified as to be confirmed.

The relationship between the United States and Great Britain is a subject of apparently endless fascination. It has given rise to innumerable books, theses, articles, essays and speculations. It is, however, riven with misunderstandings, inconsistencies and stereotypes. For all that the relationship has been written about, investigated, discussed and analysed, the topic is ripe, even yet, for further discussion.