George W. Bush wants Americans and the world to believe that the fall of Saddam Hussein's regime two months ago represented a defeat for tyranny and a victory for liberty. No one has devoted more words to framing regime change in Iraq in these terms than the president.

In the debate leading up to the war, Mr. Bush and his administration focused primarily on Iraq's acquisition of weapons of mass destruction and the threat they posed to the US to justify military action. After military victory, however, Bush has emphasized the larger objective of promoting liberty in Iraq and the greater Middle East, especially because the search for weapons of mass destruction has produced such limited results. This mission statement for Iraq echoes convictions Bush stressed in every major foreign policy speech given since Sept. 11.

The president, however, has one big problem in pursuing this foreign-policy agenda. Few believe he is serious. Around the world, many see an imperial power using its military might to secure oil and replace anti-American dictators with pro-American dictators.

At home, isolationists in both the Republican and Democratic parties shudder at the folly of another Wilsonian mission to make the world safe for democracy.

Both at home and abroad, observers of Bush's foreign policy are confused by the mixed messages it sends. Was the war against Iraq undertaken to eliminate weapons of mass destruction or to spread liberty?

Bush faces an even more daunting challenge in making his commitment to democracy-promotion credible - the perception of hypocrisy. Bush has shown more concern for bringing freedom to Afghanistan and Iraq than to Pakistan or Saudi Arabia.

If Bush is truly committed to a foreign-policy doctrine of liberty-promotion, none of these criticisms is insurmountable. But they must be addressed. Especially now, with end of war in Iraq, what Bush says and does will define the true contours of his foreign-policy doctrine. Is it a liberty doctrine? Or does the language of liberty camouflage ulterior motives?

We will know that Bush is serious about promoting liberty if he credibly commits to four important tasks.

First, and most obviously, he must devote intellectual energy and financial resources to securing new regimes in Afghanistan and Iraq that, if not full-blown democracies, at least show the potential for democratization over time. To date, the record of achievement in both places is spotty. Bush has to keep these two countries at the top of his agenda, making regime construction as important as regime destruction. If democratizing regimes do not take hold in these countries, then Bush has no credibility in promoting liberty elsewhere.

Second, if Bush is serious about his stated mission, then he must give more attention to developing, funding, and legitimating the nonmilitary tools for promoting political liberalization abroad. The Marines cannot be used to promote democratic regime change in Iran, Saudi Arabia, Russia, or Uzbekistan. Wilson had his 14 points and Truman his Marshall Plan. Kennedy created the Alliance for Progress and the Peace Corps. Reagan started the hugely successful National Endowment for Democracy. Bush needs to lend his name to similar grand initiatives.

Third, in future speeches, Bush must flesh out the next phase of his liberty doctrine by explaining his priorities. Even the most powerful country in the world cannot bring liberty to every person living under tyranny all at once. But the president does owe the American people and the world a clearer game plan. It is no accident that Bush has given top priority to promoting democratic regime change in places where autocratic regimes were also enemies of the US. Fine, but what principles guide the next moves? There are also countries in which the promotion of political liberalization at this time could actually lead to less freedom, not more. What are the criteria being used to identify such places? To win supporters to his mission, Bush must present a rationale for the next phase of democracy promotion.

Fourth, even if the US does not have the capacity to promote freedom everywhere all the time, the president can make his commitment to liberty more credible if he develops a consistent message about his foreign-policy objectives, no matter what the setting. Words matter. Advocates of democracy living under dictatorship can be inspired by words of support from an American president. They can also become frustrated and despondent when the American president refrains from echoing his liberty doctrine when visiting their country. For instance, Bush's failure to speak openly about democratic erosion on his recent visit to Russia was a big disappointment to Russian democrats.

Some will always believe that the US is just another imperial power, not unlike the old Soviet Union, Britain, France, or Rome, exploiting military power for material gains. But for others of us who want to believe that the US has a nobler mission in the world, we are waiting on the president to give us signs of a long-term credible commitment to promoting liberty abroad.

When the bronze statue of Saddam Hussein crashed to the ground more than a week ago, the image joined a long series of unforgettable mental pictures marking the end of tyrannical rule. In much of the former colonial world, the retiring of a European flag followed by the hoisting of a new flag of independence captured the moment. And more recently, the chiseling of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and the crane uprooting secret-police founder Felix Dzerzhinsky's statue in Moscow in 1991 served as near-perfect metaphors for the collapse of the Soviet empire.

Those images provide the type of clarity that exists -- for a moment at least -- when a dictatorship falls. But it is probably no accident that there are no such lasting images of what comes next. The switching of a flag cannot capture the inevitable messiness of transitions from tyranny to some new political order, and the truth is that few such transitions have led quickly to more freedom -- or the democracy that the United States wishes for Iraq.

For supporters of democracy, there is nothing more exciting or memorable than the fall of another dictator. The construction of a new political system, however, is a much more ambiguous process. The French still commemorate the storming of the Bastille, but the consolidation of democracy afterward took decades. Russian democrats at one point celebrated August 1991 as the month Soviet communism collapsed, but they stopped having parties later in the decade, when democracy's arrival still seemed far away. Navigating the gap between the fall of the old order and the formation of the new order is always difficult; it's especially dangerous when extremist movements and ideologies are added to the mix.

Iraq has it all: ethnic and religious divides, foreign troops, and returning exiles and revolutionaries ready to step in with an alternative vision for how to organize Iraqi state and society when those who first take power fail. Although Germany, Japan and France in 1945, or Haiti and the Balkans in the 1990s, have become the analogous regime changes of choice for many Western analysts, we would do well to add France in 1789, Russia in 1917 and 1991, Iran in 1979 or Afghanistan in the early 1990s as other historical metaphors that may help us understand Iraq today. These revolutionary situations shared several characteristics after the fall of the old order.

First, the collapse of the old regime left a vacuum of state power. The anarchy, looting and interruption of state services that we see in Iraq are predictable consequences of regime change. Second, after the fall of the dictator, expectations about "life after the dictator" exploded. People who have been oppressed for decades want to benefit from the new order immediately. The urgent and angry questions last week from Ahmed Chalabi, the Iraqi National Congress leader now back in Iraq, about why the Americans have not provided more relief faster is typical. The first leaders after the departure of the king in France, the czar in Russia or the communists in Eastern Europe knew Chalabi's situation well. Paradoxically, society's expectations inflate at precisely the same moment when the state is least prepared to meet them. Third, the coalition that opposed the dictatorship dissolved. While the dictator was still in power, this united front embraced one ideology of opposition -- "anti-king," "anti-czar," "anti-shah" or "anti-communist." In doing so, these coalitions consisted of economic, political, ethnic and religious forces with radically different visions for their country after regime change. Unity ended after the dictator fell. In Russia, Bolsheviks and liberals in 1917 and nationalists and democrats in 1991 went their separate ways. In Iran in 1979, Islamic leftists, liberals and militant clerics celebrated their shared goal of removing the shah. Just a few years after the collapse of the old order, many of the coalition partners who brought down the shah were out of power or in jail. Soon after the Soviet puppet regime in Afghanistan fell, the anti-Soviet coalition forces were killing each other.

The Iraqi opposition today consists of exiled liberals and generals, Kurdish nationalists, Shiite and Sunni clerics, Islamic fundamentalists, a smattering of monarchists and the unknown local leaders throughout the country who have quietly provided comfort to opponents and passive resistance to Saddam Hussein's totalitarian regime. From other regime changes, we should assume that this united front against Hussein will no longer be united after Hussein. The combination of a weak state, soaring expectations in society and factional fighting in the anti-authoritarian coalition gives rise to two dangerous "solutions." One is restoration. Living in anarchy, people want order. Who can provide order most quickly? Those who previously provided order. How can order be provided most quickly? By deploying the same methods used before. For both American officials governing Iraq and the Iraqi people, the temptation to settle for a new regime led by new leaders with autocratic proclivities grafted onto old state structures from Hussein's regime will be great.

But there is another, more sinister solution that can also gain appeal: the victory of the extremists. The end of dictatorship is a euphoric but ephemeral moment. When the new, interim government does not meet popular expectations, the radicals offer up an alternative vision to construct a new political (and often social) order. It is amazing and frightening how often they win. In February 1917 the end of Russian czarism seemed to create propitious conditions for constitutional democracy. Less than a year later, the Bolsheviks had seized power. In 1979 the first provisional government in Iran contained many prominent leftist intellectuals and even some liberals. No one today, however, remembers Mehdi Bazargan or Abol Hassan Bani-Sadr, while everyone knows the name of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, the radical cleric who pushed these others aside to dictate his vision for Iran. The Taliban seized control in Afghanistan to end the years of anarchy after the collapse of the old order there.

In Iraq, this threat from revolutionaries -- that is, the terrorist wing of Islamic fundamentalism inspired by Osama bin Laden -- is now latent and below the radar screen, but real. For devotees of this world perspective, Iraq offers a ripe opportunity. Not only is the old state gone and expectations high, but the only authority in the country is, in their revolutionary discourse, an imperial occupying force of infidels. Vladimir Lenin and Khomeini would have drooled over such propitious conditions for revolution.

The third path between restoration and revolution is a long and bumpy one. Liberal, moderate grass-roots movements from below always take more time to emerge and consolidate than the autocratic forces of either restoration or revolution. To succeed in Iraq, they will need their U.S. allies for the long haul. Premature departure guarantees thugs in power at best and Osama bin Laden supporters at worst.

The writer is a Hoover fellow and professor of political science at Stanford University and a senior associate at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.

Imagine a scenario in which terrorists begin attacking urban centers. The government responds with widespread detention; extended powers of arrest, search and seizure; increased surveillance capabilities; and the creation of a special court to try terrorist suspects. Before long it is sanctioning inhumane treatment of prisoners and the use of military force.

That is how the British government responded in the early 1970s to the start of Northern Ireland's Troubles. The effect was devastating. The new measures alienated the minority Catholic population and breathed life into a near-defunct Republican movement. More than 3,600 people died in the decades of violence that ensued. The provisions also carried heavy economic and political costs, both at home and abroad. Most critically, they undermined the state's political legitimacy at a time when an avowedly violent movement sought to destabilize the government.

The erosion of individual rights carries significant domestic and foreign-relations consequences. Beyond this, a more fundamental question arises: Has America remained true to its founding principles?

Since the Bush administration took office, and especially since excerpts of the Nuclear Posture Review were released, there have appeared in America some heated arguments about the Bush administration's changes to the Clinton administration's nuclear strategy, what consequences these changes would produce, and what influences they would exert on international and regional security. Different people have different views. The purpose of this working paper is to find solutions to these key issues. The effects of the Bush administration's nuclear strategy on China's security are also discussed.

The main viewpoint of the working paper is that the Bush administration has made the most fundamental adjustments to America's nuclear strategy since the end of the Cold War. These adjustments greatly modify U.S. nuclear deterrent strategy, the country's policy on using nuclear weapons, the triad of deterrent forces structure, and nuclear arms control policy. The new nuclear strategy would upset a balance of forces and stability regionally and around the globe. Moreover, the United States is shifting the focus of military strategy from Europe to Asia. This would exert significant influences on Asian-Pacific regional security and China's security.

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.

STANFORD -- In May 1988, President Reagan traveled to Moscow for a summit with Soviet leader Mikhail S. Gorbachev. When he became president, Reagan had called the Soviet Union the "evil empire," but at the time of his historic trip its leader was a personal friend. Reagan didn't allow his friendship with Gorbachev to overshadow his human rights agenda. Speaking in Helsinki two days before entering the Soviet Union, Reagan proclaimed: "There is no true international security without respect for human rights.... The greatest creative and moral force in this new world, the greatest hope for survival and success, for peace and happiness, is human freedom."

In Moscow, Reagan echoed this theme at a luncheon at the American ambassador's residence with nearly 100 Soviet human rights activists. Reagan ordered that the ambassador's finest silverware and linens be used to symbolically underscore his respect for the activists, the same as he would accord to Gorbachev.

Reagan's dual-track diplomacy produced results. A few years later, many of his lunch guests occupied positions of authority in a democratizing Russia, a change that had national security implications. Although Russia still possessed thousands of nuclear weapons, its intention to use them against the United States greatly diminished as democratic and market institutions took hold there.

Like Gorbachev and Reagan in 1988, presidents Vladimir V. Putin and Bush have a budding friendship, one that has fostered U.S.-Russian cooperation on important strategic matters like anti-terrorism. Yet, there's a disturbing difference. Some of the same people who attended Reagan's luncheon are again fighting for basic human rights and democratic practices in Russia -- and Bush seems indifferent to their fate.

Putin's backsliding on democracy can no longer be ignored. The Russian leader has overseen a war in Chechnya marked by summary executions, rape, indiscriminate bombing of villages and the inhumane treatment of prisoners of war.

The two largest national television networks do Putin's bidding, and his government and its surrogates have now wrested control of NTV, Russia's third-largest TV network and the only station truly critical of Putin. Print journalists reporting the "wrong" news about Chechnya have been either intimidated, arrested or pushed into exile. Oleg Panfilov, head of the Center for Journalism in Extreme Situations, says, "The number of criminal cases opened against journalists in three years of Vladimir Putin's rule is more than the number during the entire 10 years of Boris Yeltsin's regime."

There is more unnerving evidence of Putin's slide toward authoritarianism. The State Security Service, whose budget is dramatically rising, increasingly harasses human rights activists, environmental leaders and religious groups. Recently, the Russian government expelled the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe from Chechnya, terminated its agreement with the U.S. Peace Corps and refused reentry into Russia to American Irene Stevenson, director of the AFL-CIO's Solidarity Center in Moscow. The government has even interfered in electoral politics, removing opposition candidates from the ballot and preventing incumbents from seeking reelection in various regions of the country.

Putin didn't personally orchestrate all these democratic rollbacks, but he also has done nothing to reverse them. The battle over democracy within Russia will largely be won or lost internally. Fortunately, in poll after poll, Russians continue to value democratic ideals and practices. But the Bush administration cannot continue to sit on the sidelines.

Amazingly, it has proposed drastic cuts in the amount of democratic assistance earmarked for Russia next year on the ground -- ironic in light of recent evidence -- that Russian democracy is firmly enough established.

Bush's stance is perplexing. His new national security doctrine declares the promotion of liberty abroad a U.S. priority. Tell that to Russian human rights activists, who feel alienated by the lack of U.S. encouragement.

But democratic activists in Russia need more than words of support. They also need continued U.S. financial and technical help. At a minimum, budgets for democracy assistance, already minuscule, cannot be reduced further. Cutting assistance now, moreover, would send a terrible message about U.S. staying power, not only to democrats in Russia but to those in Afghanistan, Iraq and Uzbekistan.

Congress also has a role to play. Last year, the House and Senate overwhelmingly approved, and Bush signed into law, the Russian Democracy Act, which establishes a minimum for democratic assistance to Russia. Budget cutters in the administration have found creative ways to meet these minimal thresholds by calling programs like high school exchanges "democracy assistance." This sleight of hand must not become law.

Furthermore, in a major report on U.S.-Russian relations a few years ago, Rep. Christopher Cox (R-Newport Beach) called for increased engagement "of the Russian people, not just the Russian government." Now more than ever, Cox and the other authors of this congressional study need to reaffirm their recommendations.

Bush and his foreign team certainly have their hands full. Yet, they cannot allow past victories to slip away while pursuing new ones. A return of dictatorship in Russia, a country armed with thousands of nuclear weapons, would present a much greater threat than the current set of tyrants now threatening U.S. security. To maintain U.S. credibility on issues of democracy and to encourage those within Russia dedicated to the cause of democracy, the Bush administration has to find a way to work constructively with Putin without ignoring Russian society. A good way to start might be a luncheon at the American ambassador's residence in Moscow.

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.