As the going gets rough in Iraq and budgets deficits bloat in this country, the president may be tempted to let his doctrine of liberty morph into a smaller doctrine of stability.

Critics of the American-led wars in Afghanistan and Iraq cited the violation of state sovereignty as their chief concern. Invoking the United Nations Charter, opponents of these wars warned that American violation of Afghan and Iraqi sovereignty was illegal, immoral, and threatening to international order.

Forty years ago, these defenders of sovereignty would have been promoting sovereignty as a powerful battering ram for destroying empires and undermining the legitimacy of colonization. Eventually, empire became an illegitimate and extinct form of government; the hope was that acquiring state sovereignty would be the first step toward popular sovereignty. People living in colonies could choose their rulers only after shedding their colonial masters. Decolonization and democratization were to go hand in hand.

Today, however, the champions of sovereignty have become the conservatives. We should respect sovereignty, but it should not trump all other norms all the time. Defending Afghanistan's state sovereignty in 2001 or Iraq's in 2003 meant defending the wretched Taliban and Saddam Hussein. Both the Taliban and Hussein seized "sovereignty" by using brutal force.

In speeches justifying these wars, President George W. Bush proposed a liberty doctrine, which places the sovereignty of individuals above the sovereignty of the state. According to Bush, the sovereignty of regimes elected by their people cannot be violated. But those regimes not so constituted are illegitimate. Like those who embraced sovereignty as the intellectual counter to empire a half century ago, Bush embraces liberty as a weapon against dictatorship.

This liberty doctrine is not new. American presidents have sporadically deployed armed force to promote liberty in international politics. With his decisive actions in Afghanistan and Iraq, Bush has given new impetus to the idea of promoting democratic regime change abroad.

Bush actively promoted democratic regime change in places ruled by dictators' threatening the United States. He did not start by dethroning despots loyal to American interests. The real test of his commitment to this doctrine will be his passion for deploying nonmilitary means for the cause of liberty in places such as Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and Russia.

The American people are unlikely to support another preemptive war in the name of democracy. Even if Bush remains committed to this new doctrine, others in his administration, in his party, on Capitol Hill, and in other strategic countries are less interested in the project. As the going gets rough in Iraq and budgets deficits bloat in this country, the president may be tempted to let his doctrine of liberty morph into a smaller doctrine of stability.

Such a reversal, however, will vindicate the champions of sovereignty and delegitimize the American-led wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. President Bush, therefore, must back up his rhetoric with long-term strategies for securing democracy. If he fails, these wars will have been wasted opportunities and be remembered instead as examples of using U.S. military might for U.S. material gain. If Bush stays the course and builds a bipartisan domestic coalition, then just maybe-forty years down the road-dictatorship will follow the same fate as empire and become an extinct form of government.

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.

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.

In its relations with Peru, the United States has historically placed greatest emphasis on fighting the war on drugs. As Sendero Luminoso, The Shining Path, led an insurgency against the Peruvian government in the 1980s and 1990s, the United States provided ample support against the terrorists located in the jungle, especially those participating in the drug trade. But Peru's victory over terrorism then was due more to improved police intelligence and increased public investment, rather than success in the war on drugs. Now, in the midst of economic troubles and a difficult transition back to democracy in Peru, the Shining Path has made a resurgence. The United States again faces a choice about how to proceed - to continue focusing on the war on drugs or to provide sustained levels of investment in Peru's economy and political institutions, thereby turning this war on terror into a war on poverty.

For most of the 1990s, American foreign policymakers, analysts of Russia in the United States, and leaders of American nongovernmental organizations have pointed to generational change as the beacon of hope for Russia. Because it was believed that the transition from communism to capitalism and democracy would require a "short-term" decline in the well-being of Russian society--and that the older generations would suffer the most during the transitional period--all hope was placed on the young people. Unlike their grandparents and parents, the younger generation would enjoy the benefits of reform and therefore embrace the reforms advocated by the American policymakers and analysts.

For centuries, dictators ruled Russia. Tsars and Communist Party chiefs were in charge for so long some analysts claimed Russians had a cultural predisposition for authoritarian leaders. Yet, as a result of reforms initiated by Mikhail Gorbachev, new political institutions have emerged that now require election of political leaders and rule by constitutional procedures. Michael McFaul traces Russia's tumultuous political history from Gorbachev's rise to power in 1985 through the 1999 resignation of Boris Yeltsin in favor of Vladimir Putin.

McFaul divides his account of the post-Soviet country into three periods: the Gorbachev era (1985-1991), the First Russian Republic (1991-1993), and the Second Russian Republic (1993-present). The first two were, he believes, failures--failed institutional emergence or failed transitions to democracy. By contrast, new democratic institutions did emerge in the third era, though not the institutions of a liberal democracy. McFaul contends that any explanation for Russia's successes in shifting to democracy must also account for its failures. The Russian/Soviet case, he says, reveals the importance of forging social pacts; the efforts of Russian elites to form alliances failed, leading to two violent confrontations and a protracted transition from communism to democracy.

McFaul spent a great deal of time in Moscow in the 1990s and witnessed firsthand many of the events he describes. This experience, combined with frequent visits since and unparalleled access to senior Russian policymakers and politicians, has resulted in an astonishingly well-informed account. Russia's Unfinished Revolution is a comprehensive history of Russia during this crucial period.

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.

To make his case, [Bush] has a powerful historical experience to draw upon: the end of the Cold War. Regime change in Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union fundamentally enhanced American national security. If Iraq possessed Russia's nuclear arsenal today, the United States would be in grave danger. Two decades ago we feared this same arsenal in the hands of the Kremlin. Today we do not. The reason we do not is that the regime in Russia has become more democratic and market-oriented and therefore also more Western- oriented.

Second, democratization on the periphery of Europe has stalled. A dictator who praises Stalin and Hitler runs Belarus. President Vladimir Putin has weakened democratic institutions and grossly violated the human rights of his own citizens in Chechnya in his attempt to build "managed democracy" in Russia. In Ukraine, President Leonid Kuchma aspires to create the same level of state control over the democratic process as Putin has achieved in Russia to ensure a smooth -- that is, Kuchma-friendly -- transition of power when his term ends in 2004. In contrast to Russia, Ukraine has a vibrant democratic opposition, whose leader, Viktor Yushchenko, is likely to win a free and fair presidential election. This vote in 2004 will be free and fair, however, only if the West is watching. Only in Moldova has authoritarian creep been avoided, but that's because of the weakness of the state, hardly a condition conducive to long-term democratic consolidation.