K. Shankar Bajpai served as India's Ambassador to Pakistan, China, and the United States, and as Secretary of the Ministry of External Affairs.

This paper begins by examining the nature of the two-way coercion going on between India and Pakistan since 1989 followed by an analysis of the international environment that influences it. This leads to an examination of the sub-conventional fighting that Kashmir has had to endure for twelve years followed by the possible contours of a conventional war such fighting could lead to. Moving to the nuclear realm, the paper examines, in sequence, the nuclear arsenals of the two countries, the issues involved in managing these arsenals, the implications of their opaque nature, the nuclear strategies of the two countries, the manner in which they are gearing up to conduct nuclear operations, and the nuclear risks that are being run. This is followed by a look at the nature of the coercive risk-taking that is going on, spanning sub-conventional through nuclear. The paper ends with a set of conclusions.

Protesters who marched around the world last week were wrong to assume that American inaction against Iraq will make their children safer or the Iraqi people better off. (Wouldn't it be nice if the Iraqi people could express their opinion about their country's future rather than having to listen to George W. Bush, Saddam Hussein or street protesters speak on their behalf?) The protesters were right, however, to question whether war against Iraq will produce more security at home and real freedom for the Iraqi people.

Americans should have confidence that the Department of Defense has a game plan and the capacity to destroy Hussein's regime, but we have less reason to feel the same level of confidence about the blueprint and resources earmarked to rebuild Iraq because no one talks about them.

The time for circulating such plans and amassing such resources is now, before the bombs begin to fall. A war to disarm Hussein alone is not legitimate. Only a military conflict that brings about genuine political change in Iraq will leave the Iraqi people better off and the American people more secure. Winning the war will be inconsequential if we fail to win the peace.

To demonstrate a credible commitment fto rebuild a democratic Iraqi over the long haul, the Bush administration could do the following today:

First, if we must go to war, we cannot go alone. American armed forces can destroy Hussein's regime without France or Germany, but the U.S. Agency for International Development will struggle to rebuild a new Iraqi regime without the assistance of others.

Second, President Bush must state clearly before the conflict begins that an international coalition will govern Iraq for an interim term. Again, the burden will fall mainly on American armed forces and their commanders. But the less the occupation looks like an American unilateral action, the better.

Third, the Bush administration must secure a commitment from all stakeholders in a post-war Iraqi regime about the basic contours of a new constitution for governing Iraq before war begins. Right now, these claimants on a future Iraqi regime are weak. They need the United States to come to power, which gives American officials considerable leverage now. Once Hussein's regime falls, however, they will be less beholden to the Americans. Without a clearly articulated plan in place before the fall of Hussein's regime, the process of constituting a new government could quickly become chaotic and unpredictable.

Fourth, President Bush must make absolutely clear now -- before war -- that the United States has no intention of seizing Iraqi oil fields, which belong to the Iraqi people. Bush must distance himself from statements made by unnamed government officials that the United States plans to appropriate Iraqi oil revenues as reparations.

This absurd idea -- believed by many throughout the world -- must be squelched immediately and unequivocally. Instead, the Bush administration should consider privatizing the Iraqi oil business through a mass voucher program. Give every Iraqi citizen a small stake in the ownership of these resources. At a minimum, an international consortium, not an American general, must assume stewardship of the Iraqi oil business during occupation.

On Day One after Hussein is defeated, Bush must demonstrate a real commitment to the promotion of democracy in the region. Most importantly, the rebuilding of Iraq must begin immediately. The delays we are witnessing in Afghanistan cannot be repeated.

In this cause, the American people should also help through the direct delivery of aid, student exchanges, or sister-city programs. Those who rallied in support of peace last week should remain mobilized to promote peace and development in Iraq after a military conflict, when the Iraqi people will be in greatest need.

In parallel, Bush must demonstrate a more serious commitment to rebuilding a state in Afghanistan -- hopefully as a democracy, but at least as a functioning, coherent state that can maintain order and promote development. This can happen only if the warlords are contained, an assignment that will require several times the several thousand peacekeeping troops now in the country. Western aid workers in Afghanistan -- including those working on democracy -- complain that internal security is a precondition for any aid to be effective.

In addition, Bush must formulate a policy toward Iran, which could begin by stating clearly that the United States does not intend to use force against that country. The current ambiguity about American intentions only strengthens the hard-liners within Iran and weakens the reformers. More fundamentally, the United States must develop a more sophisticated policy toward Iran, one which engages reformers within the Iranian government and assists democratic forces in society, but does not legitimate hard-line clerics who control the regime. The model is American policy toward the Soviet Union in its waning years.

And President Bush should redouble his administration's efforts to help create a democratic Palestine. A democratic Palestine is not a reward to the Sept. 11 terrorists, but their worst nightmare. Of course, this undertaking is enormous, but no larger than the task of installing democracy in Iraq after invasion.

Bush should also call his counterparts in Saudi Arabia, Pakistan and Egypt and tell them privately the truth -- regime change in their countries has already begun. If they initiate political liberalization now while they are still powerful and their enemies are still weak, they might be able to shape the transition process according to their interests as the king did in Spain and Augusto Pinochet did in Chile. If the Saudis, Pakistanis and Egyptians wait, however, their regimes are more likely to end in revolution like Iran in 1979 or Romania in 1989.

Even if President Bush undertakes all these initiatives, an invasion of Iraq is still likely to produce a net loss of political liberalization in the region in the short run. Dictatorships in the region are not going to suddenly liberalize in response to the American occupation of Iraq. In the face of angry publics, they will do the exact opposite -- just as autocrats across Europe did two centuries ago when Napoleon tried to bring democracy to the continent through the barrel of a gun.

American leaders, therefore, will face greater and more complex challenges after the war than before the war. To succeed, Bush and his successors need a long-term game plan. Above all, the president must explain to the American people that the United States will be involved in the reconstruction of a democratic Iraq and the region for decades, not months or years.

The worst-case scenario -- for both Americans and Iraqis -- is a quick war, followed by a terrorist attack on American troops stationed in Iraq, followed by a call for early American disengagement. Twenty years ago, the United States helped to destroy the Soviet-sponsored regime in Afghanistan, but then failed to help build a new regime in the vacuum. We experienced the consequences of such shortsightedness on Sept. 11, 2001. In Iraq or elsewhere in the region, we cannot make the same mistake again.

This book compares sub-Saharan Africa and the former Soviet Union, two regions beset by the breakdown of states suffering from extreme official corruption, organized crime extending into warlordism, and the disintegration of economic institutions and public institutions for human services. The contributors not only study state breakdown but also compare the consequences of post-communism with those of post-colonialism.

This chapter looks at the processes of state formation in postcolonial Africa and the former Soviet Union and asks whether those processes make African and Eurasian states especially vulnerable to civil war. In particular, we ask whether the experience of Africa's postcolonial states suggests a similar historical trajectory for the new states that emerged in Eurasia at the beginning of the 1990s. We argue that, despite important differences between the two historical experiences, conditions surrounding state formation in Africa and post-Soviet Eurasia have inhibited the formation of stable and legitimate states and have made war more likely.

The chapter beings by outlining three broad explanatory factors that scholars have used in trying to explain civil wars since 1945: ethnicity, nationalism, and globalization. We argue that these explanations neglect what Klaus Gantzel referred to as "the historicity of war," by which he means "the structural dynamics which condition the emergence and behaviour of actors" in any given period (Gantzel 1997, 139). We then suggest that a focus on state formation is helpful in providing the historical context for understanding civil wars. After surveying the experience of state-building in postcolonial Africa and in Eurasia, we conclude with comparisons and contrasts between the regions.

Why do some peace agreements successfully end civil wars, while others fail? What strategies are most effective in ensuring that warring parties comply with their treaty commitments? Of the various tasks involved in implementing peace agreements, which are the most important? These and related questions--life and death issues for millions of people today--are the subject of Ending Civil Wars.

Based on a study of every intrastate war settlement between 1980 and 1998 in which international actors played a key role, Ending Civil Wars is the most comprehensive, systematic study to date of the implementation of peace agreements--of what happens after the treaties are signed. Covering both broad strategies and specific tasks and presenting a wealth of rich case material, the authors find that failure most often is related not only to the inherent difficulty of a particular case, but also to the major powers' perception that they have no vital security interest in ending a civil war.

President George W. Bush has demonstrated impressive flexibility in reshaping his approach to foreign policy to deal with the new international challenges brought to the fore by the terrorist attacks.

Before Sept. 11, President Bush embraced a humble mission for the United States in the world. This country, he believed, had to "preserve the peace" by seeking to maintain the basic balance of power between nations. Now, Bush has abandoned the preservation of the old system. Instead, he seeks to change it by promoting liberty, freedom and eventual democracy in countries ruled by autocrats.

In doing so, Bush lines up next to "idealists" or "liberals" such as Ronald Reagan, Woodrow Wilson and Immanuel Kant, and implicitly distances himself from realists focused solely on the balance of power such as Richard Nixon, Thucydides and his own father, the 41st president.

In a second remarkable change, Bush has become a supporter, at least rhetorically, of nation building. Before Sept. 11, the Bush administration derided nation building as a Clinton-era distraction from the more important issues in international politics. Now, Bush has clearly identified the connection between rebuilding the failed state of Afghanistan and American national security interests. If Congress approves his proposals, Bush will be the author of the greatest increase in the American foreign aid budget since John F. Kennedy's presidency.

Third, the Bush administration before Sept. 11 expressed disdain for multilateral institutions. But in his speech this month before the United Nations, Bush outlined an ambitious proposal for revitalizing the United Nations and American cooperation with this most important multilateral institution.

To be credible, President Bush needs to do more to demonstrate his commitment to the promotion of democracy, nation building and multilateralism. Bush must show that he wants to see political reform in Saudi Arabia as well as in Iraq. Words about promoting liberty ring hollow if they apply only to some people.

To show seriousness on nation building, Bush should press for increases in the peacekeeping forces in Afghanistan. Those working to rebuild Afghanistan unanimously complain that the lack of security throughout the country is the No. 1 impediment to their work.

To make credible his pledge to reinvigorate the United Nations and other multilateral institutions, the president should complement his pledge to enforce U.N. resolutions on Iraq with a rededication of American participation in other international regimes. Bush could start with the ratification of the United Nations Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination Against Women, an agreement that American officials helped craft.

Because many are suspicious of the president's recent embrace of democracy promotion, nation building and multilateralism, he must demonstrate a sustained commitment to his new foreign policy strategy.

If Bush has shown a willingness to consider new ideas about foreign policy, his critics -- both at home and abroad -- have demonstrated amazing conservatism. In a reversal of positions, those most opposed to Bush's new approach to foreign policy now seek to "preserve the peace" by defending the status quo. The core flaw in this is the assumption that the old international system was working. It was not.

Before Sept. 11, the United Nations had failed to enforce its own resolutions on Iraq. If the "international community" cannot act to execute its will when dealing with such grave issues as the proliferation of weapons of mass destruction, then it has no credibility on anything.

The international community is ineffective in dealing with despotism, poverty and human rights violations because it seeks to preserve state sovereignty above all else. Fifty years ago, this was a progressive idea, which brought about the end of colonialism. Today, it is a regressive idea, which preserves the sovereignty of dictators who defy international law, denying the sovereignty of their people.

It is odd to hear the international community invoked so often as the defender of high ideals and then see representatives from Iraq in the U.N. General Assembly. Should the United States really be a member of the same organization that includes Saddam Hussein? Eventually, autocracy should go the way of slavery and colonialism as simply unacceptable.

To be effective, the international community and the United States need each other. U.N. Security Council resolutions can only be enforced if the United States helps to enforce them. The United Nations can only assist in the building of new states or prevent the destruction of vulnerable regimes if the United States participates, and vice-versa. The international community has no army and no economy, but even the mighty and rich United States can't afford to remake the world alone. For an effective partnership, change has to come from both sides.

Michael McFaul is an associate professor of political science and Hoover Fellow at Stanford University and a senior associate at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.

China is India's largest and most important neighbor, and despite recent efforts at improving relations between the two countries, the over half-century-old border dispute remains unresolved. While the prospects of a Sino-Indian border war are remote, it is essential that India understand the security implications of the rapidly modernizing Chinese military. It is in this context that this paper attempts to assess the airpower balance and the growing strength of the People's Liberation Army Air Force (PLAAF). The paper argues that even if the pace of its modernization remains slow, the PLAAF will have decisively surpassed regional air forces in strength and capabilities by the end of the current decade.

Air Commodore Ramesh V. Phadke is an active duty officer of the Indian Air Force, currently working as Senior Fellow at the Institute for Defence Studies & Analyses, New Delhi, India. He has held five command positions and many important staff appointments. He is a postgraduate in Defence Studies and has been working on airpower issues. His current interests include China's military modernization and India's national security.

He was a CISAC visiting fellow in 2001 as part of the project "Strategic Stability: China and South Asia."

As Mozambique enters its tenth year of peace following a brutal and destructive civil war, the signs of continued democratic transformation and pro-market economic reform appear rosy, at least at first glance. Donors and the international community have quietly lauded Joaquim Chissano's recent announcement that he is "not disposed" to seek a third term as president of this former Portuguese colony of 17 million on the southeast coast of Africa. Together with President Frederick Chiluba's similar announcement in Zambia a few months ago, it looks to many like an indication that these two African democracies are maturing and consolidating the gains that they have made in recent years.

Mozambique's continued place atop the list of the world's fastest-growing economies has been seen as another signal that commitment to the "Washington Consensus" will provide the funds required to bring infrastructure, schools, and health care to the rural majority. It is no wonder, then, that Mozambique finds itself highlighted as a success story for the United Nations in conflict-ridden Africa. Many credit Mozambique's remarkable transformation to the UN's efforts to sustain the drawn-out peace negotiations, demobilize more than 90,000 soldiers, rebuild a unified national army, and foster the rise of a legitimate, peaceful opposition. Donor investments continue to support Mozambique today, funding more than half of the government's annual budget.

On the ground in Mozambique, however, the continuation of this upward trajectory looks anything but guaranteed. The newspapers hint at trouble just beneath the surface: two major bank failures, the assassination of the country's most respected independent journalist, the continued depreciation of the currency, and stop-and-start talks between the Frente de Libertação de Moçambique (or Frelimo, as the ruling party is usually called) and its main political rival, the Resist^encia Nacional Moçambicana (Renamo), about how to share power at the local level. In November 2000, when police in the city of Montepuez killed demonstrators challenging the government's claim to have won that year's national elections, tensions nearly exploded into large-scale violence. ¹

The UN's work in Mozambique was unprecedented in scope, and the results have been dramatic. Two consecutive free elections and growth rates approaching 10 percent a year over the past decade cannot be ignored. Some might argue that the items of bad news cited above are merely "bumps on the road" toward lasting peace, as Mozambicans of all stripes learn to resolve problems through dialogue and democratic competition. But a deeper look at Mozambique's political and economic situation suggests a bleaker interpretation.

The truth is that a number of deep cleavages threaten the future of Mozambique's democratic transition. What are these fundamental divisions? And more importantly, how can the political system be reformed in order to prevent them from worsening or even erupting into renewed civil war? A search for answers should begin with some basic background on Mozambique and its troubled recent history.

The war in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), which began in August 1998, is unprecedented-at times involving armies from eight African states. Soldiers from Chad are fighting alongside regiments from Namibia, Angola, and Zimbabwe in defense of President Laurent Kabila. And on offense, the two main rebel groups, the Congolese Assembly for Democracy (which is known by the acronym RCD) and the Movement for the Liberation of Congo (MLC), are backed by troops from Uganda and Rwanda. As Susan E. Rice, assistant secretary of state for African affairs, warned the House International Relations Committee in September 1998, "The fighting threatens regional stability, hampers economic progress, endangers the lives of millions of people, perpetuates human rights abuses, and impedes the democratic transformation of Africa's third-largest country." This war, Rice said, is potentially "among the most dangerous conflicts on the globe."

Yet, the war in Congo goes on almost unnoticed outside of Africa. While African heads of state spent much of the last year shuttling across the continent, wrestling with the crisis and searching for a peaceful solution, Congo has been largely missing from the agendas of the Western powers and multilateral organizations. Only in January, when the U.S. representative to the United Nations, Richard Holbrooke, taking advantage of his tenure as Security Council president to draw attention to Africa, did the war enter Western consciousness.

The conflict in the DRC is the first interstate war in sub-Saharan Africa since Uganda invaded Tanzania in 1978, and only the third since 1960. Although Africa is seen as a hotbed of violence and warfare, most conflicts have been intrastate in nature. Norms of sovereignty reinforced by clauses in the charter of the Organization of African Unity (OAU) and the constitutions of the various subregional organizations have effectively prevented cross-border conflict from the time of independence until now. The Ugandan and Rwandan-led invasion of Congo, as well as the presence there of the Southern African Development Community (SADC) intervention force, therefore represents a watershed in the recent history of African conflict. It appears that the forces preventing cross-border conflict since 1960 have become seriously weakened.

What are the implications of the rise of interstate war in Africa for peace and security on the continent? Why have Western powers been so reluctant to take an active role in resolving Africa's first "world war"? And what impact will the changing nature of warfare in Africa have on U.S. policy and the role of the United Nations there?