| Taking Off the Cold War Lens: Visions of North-South Conflict during the Algerian War for Independence | The American Historical Review, 105.3

Taking Off the Cold War Lens: Visions of North-South Conflict during the Algerian War for Independence

MATTHEW CONNELLY

Even before Edward Said's Orientalism appeared some twenty years ago, Arab, French, and American scholars had begun to jostle the keystone connecting knowledge and power in the imperial edifice. Indeed, Anouar Abdel-Malek declared "Orientalism in Crisis" in 1963, as the triumph of national liberation movements like Algeria's shook the confidence of social scientists on both sides of the Atlantic. In succeeding years, nowhere more than in scholarship on North Africa, sociologists, anthropologists, and historians criticized their predecessors for legitimizing colonial authority by depicting Muslims as an underdeveloped "other." They recognized that orientalism could both reflect and reinforce inequality, ultimately serving as a coercive arm of the state.¹ 1

     Since then, many more scholars have taken "the historic turn," becoming increasingly critical of their disciplinary histories.² At the same time, the new field of postcolonial studies has continued the pursuit of orientalism, ranging ever further from the institutions officially charged with preserving imperial power. Recoiling from the elitism of "official history," it would instead seek out the voice of the subaltern, or at least interrogate the discourses that keep them silent. Following Said's lead in literary criticism, postcolonial scholars today catalog the cultures of empire in novels and travel writing, museums and expositions, paintings and postcards—everywhere, it seems, but the archives and personal papers of European and U.S. policymakers. Consequently, diplomats and other high officials are becoming the exotic "other" of postcolonial studies—passively receiving all manner of fanciful attributes and opinions, while always retaining an air of mystery and menace.³ 2

     To many imperial and diplomatic historians, on the other hand, postcolonial theorists themselves are "literary invaders" who have undertaken the "colonization of imperial studies." Many more have all but ignored cultural studies of colonialism and Great Power diplomacy.⁴ One of the exceptions, Emily S. Rosenberg, recently lamented the fact that cultural and political-economic histories of the U.S. experience abroad "seem to inhabit different planets."⁵ These worlds have begun to collide in Diplomatic History, the main journal in the field. Yet contributors' increasingly frequent forays into cultural studies all too often replicate the more problematic aspects of postcolonial scholarship, especially the assumption that imperial projects can be analyzed as either discourse or elite decision-making. Opting for the former, authors sometimes stake out bold claims for the power of cultural representations and practices unsupported by the scope of their research.⁶ This has not won over most readers, one of whom derided this work as "intellectual junk."⁷ 3

     This article seeks to demonstrate how postcolonial studies and diplomatic history could engage in a more constructive dialogue if the ongoing critique of orientalism were to recover its original focus on the exercise of state power. In particular, it will draw on the insights of postcolonial scholars to reexamine relations between the United States and its allies during the passing of the European empires. How, it is asked, did the political and economic crisis of the colonial world shape policymakers' ideas about "development" and cultural differences? Conversely, what can newly opened archives reveal about how the construction of "us-them" categories—long a concern of postcolonial theorists—actually affected high-level decisions on decolonization as it accelerated in the 1950s?⁸ 4

     But if we are to explore the interaction of state power and cultural representations, we must first confront a broad consensus among diplomatic historians that an East-West, Cold War dichotomy—not discourses about racial and religious differences—framed U.S. policymakers' perceptions of the emerging Third World. Summarizing "post-revisionist" scholarship, Robert McMahon writes that the Eisenhower administration "insisted on viewing the Third World through the invariably distorting lens of a Cold War geopolitical strategy that saw the Kremlin as the principal instigator of global unrest." In particular, Thomas Paterson argues that the "Cold War lens" of Eisenhower and his secretary of state, John Foster Dulles, prevented a more far-sighted approach to Arab nationalism. John Lewis Gaddis agrees: Dulles was "[d]etermined to force a Cold War frame of reference on [the Middle East]."⁹ 5

     While there is no denying that Eisenhower and his secretary of state saw their most pressing task as managing a protracted and unpredictable confrontation with Moscow, they could also imagine a still more disturbing prospect: an expanding and escalating conflict with "the great mass of mankind which is non-white and non-European"—as Dulles put it—whether in league with the Soviets or independent of them.¹⁰ Eisenhower and Dulles hoped to appease antiwestern sentiment by accelerating decolonization, accepting the neutralism of some new states, and offering them economic aid. They considered the cooperative development of "Eurafrica" essential if the allies were ever to stand on their own, and they favored European integration even in the absence of the Soviet challenge.¹¹ Similarly, international conflict along racial and religious lines was an appalling prospect even if the communists kept out of it. Thus their appeasement policy was consistent with Cold War concerns, but it was not entirely dependent on them. It drew strength from images and ideas that antedated the U.S.-Soviet contest and have gained new currency in its aftermath—from turn-of-the-century visions of the "Yellow Peril" to millenarian forebodings of a "Clash of Civilizations."¹² 6

     To bring the relationship between the Cold War and representations of racial and religious conflict into sharper focus, this analysis will concentrate on Algeria, a country at the crossroads of the European, Arab, and African worlds. It will begin by describing its war for independence as part of a general crisis in the colonial world, when rapid demographic growth, the collapse of rural economies, and radio and film's role in mobilizing discontent led many to question the inevitability of "modernization." Even at the height of the Cold War, discourses about development and civilizational conflict helped delineate the shifting borders between North and South, "the West" and "the rest." By presenting policymakers' own words as evidence, this study suggests that a "Cold War lens" did not circumscribe the views of Eisenhower and his contemporaries as much as those of the historians who have studied them.¹³ 7

     Algeria is an ideal place to examine how the Cold War came to be overlaid—and undermined—by visions of North-South conflict. With nearly a million European colonists and immense oil and natural gas reserves, it was an integral part not only of France but also of the emerging European strategic and economic community. Indeed, its northern départements were made part of the North Atlantic Treaty and the Treaty of Rome. But from the perspective of most of its 9 million Muslims, Algeria belonged to the Middle East and Africa beyond the Sahara. Seventy percent of them still lived in rural areas, typically subsisting on small, overworked plots and seasonal labor. By 1954, fully half were usually unemployed. When they tried to organize political opposition, French authorities arrested their candidates and massacred protesters.¹⁴ 8

     But while Algerians endured gross economic and political inequality, colonial administrators deemed that it was demographic inequality that explained dissension between Muslims and the European settlers, the pieds noirs.¹⁵ They pointed to the growth rate of the Muslim population—twice that of the pieds noirs—and the increasing number migrating to the cities. Between 1926 and 1954, their share of Algiers' population grew from 26 to 46 percent.¹⁶ By then, 300,000 Algerian Muslims had moved on to France, where in 1947 Louis Chevalier was already warning of "a real invasion and a berberisation of whole neighborhoods in Marseilles and Paris."¹⁷ 9

To contemporary observers, French Algeria appeared to demonstrate in microcosm the problems of North and South as they came together and came apart. In his introduction to Chevalier's study, the famed French demographer Alfred Sauvy used Algeria to advance a general proposition with profound implications for colonial power around the world: "The current emancipation of Asiatic and Muslim countries is as directly related with their demographic vitality as was the European expansion in the 19th century. The relation of cause and effect is no more in doubt. It is the demographic factor that commands political expansion."¹⁸ Five years later, Sauvy coined the term Third World to describe these countries' position apart from both the Western and Eastern blocs. But it also connoted a kind of global Third Estate, one that challenged both the capitalist and communist powers of the North. Population pressure was building, Sauvy wrote, to the point where North Africans' cries of misery could almost be heard by vacationers in the South of France.¹⁹ 10

     From the beginning of the Cold War, some U.S. policymakers shared this North-South perspective on international politics. "We are in the middle of a world revolution—and I don't mean Communism," George C. Marshall warned after a trip to Asia. "The revolution I'm talking about is that of the little people all over the world. They're beginning to learn what there is in life, and to learn what they are missing."²⁰ 11

     Marshall's remark was part of a tradition among Westerners of imagining others as smaller, child-like versions of themselves. But most were confident that they wanted to grow up—that is, to become more modern, "more like us." It was therefore up to the West to steady them through their growing pains. This was the agenda of the emerging field of modernization theory, which became the conventional wisdom in both Europe and North America. Implicit in both the "little people" imagery and modernization theory's "stages of economic growth" was the idea that Third World peoples could not interact with outside influences but only adhere to tradition or accept modernity through either its capitalist or communist variants (though most Western observers believed the latter would eventually be proved fraudulent). They were oblivious to the tautology of arguing that "the Western model of modernization" was universally relevant since all modernizing societies were, by definition, becoming more like the West.²¹ 12

     While modernization theory generated a vast literature, perhaps the quintessential text, as Andre Gunder Frank suggests, was Daniel Lerner's The Passing of Traditional Society.²² Karl Deutsch's influential work on "social mobilization" had predicted that increasing literacy and exposure to new popular media would lead to assimilation within societies and—eventually—more Western-type nation-states. Lerner stressed the new media's role in teaching Third World peoples "what there is in life," that is, what the West had to offer. There were dangers inherent in the resulting "revolution of rising expectations," but at least the direction of progress was clear: the new media raised expectations, and economic and social development would meet them. It remained only to balance the demand and supply sides of development and measure the rate of advance along the road to modernity.²³ 13

     Lerner therefore dispatched teams of researchers in 1951 to study the impact of new media in six Middle Eastern countries. They found that radio and film had indeed begun to reach broad sections of these societies. In Egypt, for instance, 78 percent of workers listened to the radio every day, and 45 percent attended movies weekly. Even among farmers, 42 percent heard radio broadcasts daily, while more than half went to the movies at least once a month. Total cinema attendance more than doubled between 1950 and 1956.²⁴ 14

     But instead of heeding Hollywood and the U.S. Information Agency's Voice of America, Egyptians began to answer back. After Gamal Abdel Nasser came to power in 1952, the Cairo-based Voice of the Arabs began attacking imperial pretensions for an audience stretching from Morocco to Iraq. In November 1954, it broadcast the first proclamation of Algeria's Front de Libération Nationale (FLN), inaugurating its revolt against French rule. By 1956, the FLN's own Voice of Algeria was broadcasting from clandestine transmitters just beyond its borders. As the famed FLN theorist and diplomat Frantz Fanon observed: "the purchase of a radio in Algeria has meant, not the adoption of a modern technique for getting news, but the obtaining of access to the only means of entering into communication with the Revolution."²⁵ 15

     Egyptian cinema also radiated its influence throughout the region. By 1956, import licenses had been granted to 263 Egyptian films in Algeria alone. Here, too, movie attendance took off, totaling 22 million that year in nearly a thousand movie houses and screening rooms across the country.²⁶ Even though these films were devoid of overt political content, French authorities feared that they had become one of the principal vehicles for the spread of Arab nationalism by presenting images of a "supposedly free and modern" Arab society.²⁷ 16

     Refused any new licenses, the Egyptians began producing pro-FLN films like Djamila Bouhired, which celebrated an urban guerrilla who hid bombs in her handbag. Yet rather than rejecting all forms of Western influence, the hero is taught that French education "is a weapon we shall use against our enemies." Likewise, the film's protagonists mobilize the international media to save Bouhired from execution.²⁸ The Quai d'Orsay tried to ban its foreign distribution but had little success. Soon, the FLN would be producing its own films, which were sometimes shown on American television news programs.²⁹ 17

     Measured by their use of new media and rising expectations, Egyptians and Algerians were becoming ever more modern, but this was not what modernization theorists had in mind. As Irene Gendzier has shown, the issue was not the activity but its aim. If, as in Iran, urbanization, education, and new means of communication produced an anti-imperialist government, then they were associated not with modernity but with alienation, while "[t]hose who exhibited an enthusiasm for social change, previously considered a sign of empathy, were now castigated as troublemakers."³⁰ Thus, when one Syrian respondent, justifying overseas radio broadcasts, suggested that "[we] should not neglect to inform foreign countries of our presence, and give them our news and ideas just as they give us theirs," Lerner reproved his taste for "foreign adventures."³¹ 18

     To Lerner, the use of new media to advance an anticolonial agenda was not only misguided, it raised the specter of a global struggle between races and religions. He complained that in Egypt the Voice of the Arabs "unleashed the violent xenophobia of fanatics while silencing the voices of modern rationality," and in North Africa it "became a major relay in the chain reaction of assassination and mob-violence through the area." Even beyond the Arab world, Egyptian radio was said to work for "Islamic World Power" in Asia and anti-white insurgencies south of the Sahara "until Africa belongs to the Africans"—thus representing anticolonialism as a primordial, racial reaction to "modern rationality."³² 19

     In fact, while Arabic radio services did encourage attacks on the colonial powers, the Algerian case shows how their message was manipulated to appear like mere bloodlust. Thus, when French propagandists found the Voice of the Arabs insufficiently inflammatory, they cited carefully edited excerpts from Radio Damascus instead. Rather than reproducing the full sentence "Kill them without pity and without commiseration, as they have killed your brothers without pity and without consideration," they quoted the broadcast as saying simply, "Kill them," and characterized it as a call for "holy war."³³ 20

     In this way, new means of communication were already being blamed for inciting communal conflict rather than promoting assimilation. By 1961, even Karl Deutsch had grown uncertain as to whether the whole process of "social mobilization" might "strain or destroy the unity of states whose population is already divided into several groups with different languages or cultures or basic ways of life." Considering that nearly all of the new states were so divided, this prospect posed a grave threat to the international system.³⁴ 21

     If the demand side of modernization challenged expectations, the supply side was still more aberrant. Modernization theory anticipated that Third World peoples would endure deprivation and threaten unrest during a transition phase, although integration in the world economy through specialization and trade would eventually lead to greater prosperity. In this respect, Algeria exhibited all the key features of the transformation of rural economies that had been occurring across the Third World: in China, too, commercialization had earlier led to the abolition of public granaries. In Mexico and Vietnam as in Algeria, it had threatened peasant control of communal land. In these cases and Cuba as well, property seizures drove peasants onto marginal lands insufficient for their subsistence.³⁵ In all these countries, peasants rose up and challenged the new economic order. Both development theorists and their critics would agree that the commercialization of agrarian society was a primary cause of political unrest while differing about whether this painful process was unavoidable. What neither explained was why development—or exploitation—did not pay.³⁶ 22

     In Algeria, for instance, the fact that wine accounted for more than half of all exports exemplified this Muslim country's integration in global markets. Yet the government paid growers 25 percent more than the market value of their product, two-thirds of which was considered useless. From 1952, the metropole had to subsidize the Algerian budget, as social services strained to accommodate the expanding, increasingly urban population.³⁷ But rather than forming a consumer society, producing and purchasing goods in global markets, many Muslims in the cities continued to live outside the cash economy—600,000 had no regular source of income. Pierre Bourdieu found it impossible to categorize their lives as traditional or capitalist; indeed, they existed entirely outside this framework of analysis. If there was an Algerian Muslim proletariat, he concluded, it was living in France, but only scraping by in order to send earnings home, thus sustaining subsistence agriculture. On the other hand—and despite massive development projects—private capital began to flow out of Algeria at an accelerating rate: 3.6 billion francs in 1954, 19.5 billion in 1955, 121.1 billion in 1956.³⁸ 23

     Algeria was an extreme case of a problem common to colonial authorities throughout the continent. Neither Britain nor France devoted substantial resources to developing their African possessions until World War II, but private capital did not follow public investment. Moreover, now that the expense of imperialism had begun to pinch taxpayers, the British and French press and publics began to subject their colonies to cost-benefit analyses.³⁹ In the summer of 1956, Raymond Cartier argued in a series of influential articles for Paris Match that France ought to redirect investment to the metropole, since it paid inflated prices for what little its African colonies had to offer.⁴⁰ Likewise, in 1959, John Strachey—former war minister under Clement Attlee—argued that "imperialism has ceased to bring appreciable benefits to the advanced countries (without ceasing to be ruinous for the underdeveloped)."⁴¹ 24

     There were economic successes in Africa, but they did not fit the development model. Migrant laborers in other African states also used their wages to strengthen rural economies, even though colonial officials were little interested in the growth of exports from small farms. As Frederick Cooper has argued, they wanted to form a disciplined labor force, but "Africans proved adept . . . at using mobility, kin networks, and the ability to move between alternative systems to avoid too much dependence on white employers"—in the same way that Algerian Muslims escaped the colons and low wages by working in France despite official efforts to keep them on the farm.⁴² This was a rational response to market incentives, but even the most liberal economists shuddered at the thought of allowing labor to cross borders with the same freedom as capital, goods, and services.⁴³ 25

     The issue of labor mobility was potentially explosive, given the pattern of world population growth. According to the prevailing dogma of "demographic transition theory," urbanization and industrialization reduced mortality rates and—after a lag period and rapid population growth—rates of natality. The population of developing countries was therefore expected to stabilize, just as in the West.⁴⁴ But, by the 1950s, demographers had discovered that improved public health measures had rapidly reduced death rates in non-industrial economies. This was the case not just in Algeria but also in Ceylon, Malaya, the West Indies, and much of Latin America. Moreover, in Algeria (as well as India and Egypt), urbanization initially appeared to have no effect on birth rates.⁴⁵ 26

     Thus, in 1954, a French demographer found that natality among Algerian Muslims had remained nearly constant between 1926 and 1950. Indeed, by 1957, he reported that it had increased to 44–46 per 1,000, with virtually no variation between urban and rural areas. As a result, the Muslim population had grown by 260,000 each year since the start of the war. While the total number of European settlers was expected to reach 1.2 million in 1980, he projected that by then the Muslim population would be growing by nearly half a million each year.⁴⁶ 27

     The relative decline of the pied noir population paralleled a shift in the proportion of European and non-European peoples around the globe. Whereas Asians, Africans, and Latin Americans accounted for 55 percent of the world's population in the second half of the nineteenth century, according to a State Department report, by the 1950s they made up more than 77 percent. From the perspective of Western policymakers, population growth made economic development more difficult but all the more imperative, given the apparent menace posed by impoverished Third World peoples. It threatened to overwhelm both the supply and demand sides of the development model and overturn the entire modernization project.⁴⁷ 28

     In this period, one can already detect a shift in policy circles from promoting development to dispensing aid. John Strachey, for one, argued that it was a moral imperative. But there was also a pragmatic argument based on Western self-interest—even survival. "The world is incomparably more aware of itself than ever before," he noted. "For the first time in history, the nearly two thousand million peasants of the undeveloped world know of the existence of that other way of life in the West which seems to them so fabulous. What if they discover no way by which they may share in its benefits?"⁴⁸ Strachey left the rest to the reader's imagination. But that same year, Arthur Conte—who later wielded immense influence as director of French radio and television broadcasting—was more explicit. Advances in telecommunications, he asserted, were "making the misery that spans the globe each day less bearable." "And if, tomorrow, nothing is done, the demographic deadline of the year 2000 will see not only wealthy countries, above all North America, Europe and the USSR, unable to protect their wealth from others' misery, but misery and hunger will become the lot of all humanity." Thus new communications technologies and the capacity of people to empathize was not necessarily a formula for modernization. Some observers feared that instead of imagining themselves in their place, impoverished masses might actually take possession of it. Fanon spoke directly to this anxiety when he wrote that "the native" aspired to "all manner of possession . . . to sleep in the settler's bed, with his wife if possible."⁴⁹ 29

     As we shall see, such fears fueled nightmares about the future of North-South relations, visions inspired by the "Yellow Peril" and jihad instead of universal ideals. We will not find a coherent body of "medievalization theory" backed by empirical research and expressed in social-science jargon. But the idea of modernization had itself become quite muddled, which helps to explain its vulnerability to that alternative view. New means of communications, market integration, and mass migration had so complicated ties between metropole and colony, city and countryside, modernity and tradition as to make the relationships between these apparent dichotomies increasingly ambiguous. It was difficult, if not impossible, for the French to go on defining themselves against or through some colonial "other" when Algerians, often living in their midst, appeared to be neither peasant nor proletarian, neither liberal nor communist, but French citizens, Algerian nationalists, and racial and religious separatists all at the same time. 30

     The FLN, on the other hand, embraced both Western and Islamic ideals, rejecting the bipolarities that were supposed to exist between them. As its official newspaper, El Moudjahid, opined: "The Algerian people are at the same time the most nationalist and the most cosmopolitan, the most loyal to Islam and the most receptive to non-Islamic values. Among Muslim peoples it is perhaps one of the most attached to the Muslim faith and the most penetrated by the spirit of the modern West."⁵⁰ In time, the spirit of Algerian independence penetrated France itself, as youths and intellectuals idealized the cause and aligned with immigrants against the state, resulting in pitched battles in the streets of Paris, with hundreds of casualties. 31

     But for all their partisan fervor, few were certain how to reconcile this spirit with the French revolutionary tradition of universalist ideals: liberty appeared to mean consigning fellow citizens to an Islamic state, equality required that they submit to the will of the majority, and fraternity necessitated their accepting cultural practices that seemed alien even to the most cosmopolitan. The question was not just competing views of truth and justice but whether such concepts could exist independent of the political projects they served. Thus Fanon asserted that "truth is the property of the national cause. No absolute verity, no discourse on the purity of the soul, can shake this position . . . Truth is that which hurries on the break-up of the colonialist regime."⁵¹ Albert Camus, for his part, declared that he would defend his pied noir mother before justice, indicating how ethnic violence could undermine faith in universalist ideals among even the most committed humanists.⁵² 32

     It may not, therefore, be coincidental that many of the leading lights of poststructuralist and postmodernist thought were shaped by the Algerian experience. During Vichy, Jacques Derrida found himself excluded from his school in Algiers as Jews were rejected by both sides of a polarizing society. Marginality would be one of the main themes of an oeuvre distinguished by a profound distrust of all claims to authority.⁵³ Similarly, after Bourdieu's experience in Algeria—where social scientists served a repressive state—he espoused a more reflexive sociology and strove to transcend false antinomies.⁵⁴ "Something has changed now, radically," Philippe Sollers wrote after his best friend was killed in the war, "The world is less pure." He hoped to reclaim an autonomous space for texts and textual analysis by founding the journal Tel Quel, which became a hothouse for critical theory.⁵⁵ As Michael Fischer has observed, Algeria "focused attention on the need to find alternatives to the construction of totalizing ideologies, the need for theories and strategies of government that could accommodate multiple cultural perspectives and not insist that everyone see history or progress the same way."⁵⁶ 33

     Of course, it would be "a turn-up for the books," as Stuart Hall jokes, "if the 'key object and achievement of the Algerian War of Independence was the overthrow of the Hegelian dialectic.'"⁵⁷ Most contemporaries judged that the answer to Algeria's problems was to accelerate modernization even while disagreeing about whether continued French tutelage helped or hindered that process. The FLN won over foreign opinion by representing its struggle as the next step in the march of progress: the "normal course of the historical evolution of Humanity which no longer accepts the existence of captive nations," as stated in its 1956 platform.⁵⁸ While modernization theory might have legitimated and perpetuated Western authority, the FLN managed to harness it to its own agenda (though this created a host of new problems after independence).⁵⁹ 34

     The idea of development was strong enough to serve multiple political projects because of its deep roots in a powerful intellectual tradition that views progress as "inevitable and inevitably directional from lower to higher forms of society," as Michael Shafer explains.⁶⁰ Yet even in its heyday, the apparent failure of progress in places like Algeria lent strength to another intellectual tradition—less respectable but no less influential—which posits the inevitability of decline.⁶¹ 35

     It was in this spirit that Maurice Papon, then secretary general of the French administration in Morocco, wrote in May 1955 to René Mayer, who would shortly assume the presidency of the European Coal and Steel Community. Papon admitted that his generation had a "bitter taste in our mouths . . . when we ruminate over the events of this past half-century, because we still remember the flavor of European hegemony." Along with the technical and economic factors undergirding the two superpowers, he insisted on the importance of "irrational elements," "the awakening of new peoples or the reawakening of ancient, dormant peoples." Ethnic solidarity was already undermining Europe's control of Africa, Papon observed, but it paled in comparison to "a greater solidarity, more complex and more mystical: that of colonized and formerly colonized peoples. It draws together the African and his Asian brothers. It silently nurtures what may be the conception of the next century—in less than 50 years now—that of the union between Asia and Africa." This "conception" would come about despite their diversity because of their common and enduring differences with the West. Chinese communists were still Confucian, Muslims were learning the tactics of Mahatma Gandhi, and all harbored grievances against Europeans. The solidarity of Asia and Africa would not only transform colonists into minorities, the independent countries were capable "of changing the face of the world. These perspectives," Papon grimly concluded, "can only convince European nations to abandon their petty squabbles, short of which they will not even be left the choice of the sauce with which they will be eaten." If Europeans failed to take their African domains in hand and form a united bloc, "Eurafrica," their disappearance was "inscribed in the evolution of the world."⁶² 36

     Three years later, Papon became prefect of police in Paris, where he ruthlessly put down protests against the war to retain Algeria. But he is now best known as the most senior Vichy official ever to be tried for complicity in the Holocaust—he had organized the deportation of Jews, even orphaned children, while secretary general of Bordeaux. In 1955, Papon was still just a rising star in the French administration, but he provides a striking reminder that all policymakers of his generation had a past, all came of age before the Cold War could have frozen their mindsets. Similarly, his memorandum is significant not because of its influence or the originality of its ideas—just the opposite. It is significant because of what it was influenced by: ideas that were important precisely because, by the 1950s, they had become so commonplace. 37

     Even before demographic trends turned against them, Europeans and Americans had begun to imagine a global race war in much the same way. From Hermann Knackfuss's famous painting of Die Gelbe Gefahr (1895) through American "Yellow Peril" novels, non-whites were depicted as a faceless, nameless mob that threatened to submerge Western civilization—a Rising Tide of Color, as Lothrop Stoddard titled his 1921 screed.⁶³ The correlation of race and class and the potential for new media to unite impoverished masses—as they were already linking national elites—led observers to imagine the convergence of ethnic and economic unrest. "The less well endowed classes, the residue of 'uncivilizables,'" the French anthropologist Georges Vacher de Lapogue told the International Eugenics Congress of 1923, "reproach their superiors for having created a civilization which multiplies their desires beyond the possibility of their satisfaction. An immense movement has started among races and inferior classes . . . against civilization itself. Class war is the real race war."⁶⁴ 38

     Paul Valéry was only the best known of a number of French writers who foresaw the relative decline of Europe, wondering if it would "become what it is in reality—that is, a little promontory on the continent of Asia?"⁶⁵ In North America, popular works like E. A. Ross's Standing Room Only? predicted that demographic growth in poor areas would require raising a "Great Barrier of the peoples of Europe, the Americas, and Australasia against those of Africa and Asia."⁶⁶ As anticolonial unrest swept East Asia, Africa, and the West Indies in the 1930s, Oswald Spengler warned that "[t]he battle for the planet has begun," castigating Europeans for their infertility in the face of "a colored world-revolution."⁶⁷ 39

     In short, the worldviews of Cold War–era policymakers were shaped at a time in which concerns about demographic trends and international race war were pervasive in both Europe and the United States. This helps explain why, when Americans began to contemplate a confrontation with the Soviets, they reflexively typed Russians as Asiatic. Thus, in September 1945, Secretary of Defense James V. Forrestal opposed sharing atomic bomb secrets with Moscow based on U.S. experience with Japan, explaining that "the Russians, like the Japanese, are essentially Oriental in their thinking" and therefore untrustworthy.⁶⁸ Harry S. Truman imagined Joseph Stalin as an heir to Genghis Khan, as "Eastern hordes" once again imperiled the peace. Secretary of State Dean Acheson compared the threat they posed to Europe to "that which Islam had posed centuries before."⁶⁹ It should therefore be no surprise that when Asian and Muslim peoples themselves appeared to challenge Western power, Americans and Europeans viewed it, a fortiori, as a reprise of these ancient rivalries. Although few besides Papon took the trouble to update the "Yellow Peril" in such a systematic fashion, his preoccupation with population growth, fear that all non-whites could and would unite against the West, and vision of Eurafrica as the answer made up the imaginative framework that underlay many of his contemporaries' discussions of decolonization and possible North-South conflict. 40

     Yet it is important to note that Westerners' perceptions of the racial and demographic dimensions of international relations could lead them to appease or at least spare Third World peoples. Even during what John Dower has called the "War without Mercy" against Japan, Americans had sought to placate what they perceived as anti-white sentiment in order to prevent Tokyo from uniting Asia against Western colonialism.⁷⁰ Franklin D. Roosevelt, for instance, "was concerned about the brown people in the East," as he put it. "[T]here are 1,100,000,000 brown people . . . Our goal must be to help them achieve independence—1,100,000,000 potential enemies are dangerous."⁷¹ Although some have argued that the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki were racially motivated, this impression helped deter a recurrence in the 1950s. When Dwight D. Eisenhower's advisers considered using nuclear weapons to save the French at Dien Bien Phu, he exclaimed, "You boys must be crazy. We can't use those awful things against Asians for the second time in less than ten years. My God."⁷² 41

     Eisenhower's remark shows how he could view Cold War crises through a lens ground from racial anxieties, rather than the other way around. This is not to deny that anticommunism was the more immediate concern, especially in his first term, nor that it led him and his secretary of state to be cautious about decolonization. "[T]here are plenty of social problems and unrest which would exist if there were no such thing as Soviet communism in the world," Dulles acknowledged in testimony before Congress in 1953. "[B]ut what makes it a very dangerous problem for us," he insisted, "is the fact that wherever those things exist . . . the forces of unrest are captured by the Soviet communists."⁷³ 42

     Similarly, Eisenhower wrote, "in some instances immediate independence would result in suffering for people and even anarchy." But in the same breath, he suggested that attempting to preserve the status quo would lead to the same result. Shortly before his inauguration, he rejected a proposal by Winston Churchill to unite to preserve Western control of the colonies: "In the present international complexities, any hope of establishing such [a] relationship is completely fatuous," he concluded. "Nationalism is on the march."⁷⁴ 43

     While opposing a precipitous withdrawal, both Eisenhower and Dulles insisted on pro-active reforms leading to greater political autonomy, especially for colonies that exported critical resources. Otherwise, the president worried that "even the so-called enlightened areas of Western Europe, Britain, the United States, and other English-speaking peoples, will by stubborn adherence to the purpose of achieving immediate gain, actually commit suicide."⁷⁵ Similarly, as early as 1949, Dulles told the French foreign minister, Robert Schuman, that Africa's "vast resources" could compensate for Western Europe's loss of access to the East and Asian colonies as long as the two regions engaged in "friendly collaboration." But if the West dealt with colonial questions "in a manner that excites a Moslem holy war or race war of black against white, then the foundation of North-South development would disappear."⁷⁶ In this way, discussions of vital questions about industry and trade were bounded by a limited repertoire of cultural representations that allowed for either a hierarchical relationship of tutelage or an atavistic struggle between races and religions. 44

     Like the race-war theorists of the interwar period, the president and his advisers often conflated or confused the political, economic, and cultural aspects of anticolonialism. They pictured Third World movements as a force of nature, often using the imagery of a flood, a tide, or a wave. Thus, in urging Churchill to make decolonization his crowning achievement, Eisenhower wrote, "there is abroad in the world a fierce and growing spirit of nationalism. Should we try to dam it up completely, it would, like a mighty river, burst through the barriers and could create havoc. But again, like a river, if we are intelligent enough to make constructive use of this force, then the result, far from being disastrous, could redound greatly to our advantage, particularly in our struggle against the Kremlin's power."⁷⁷ While demeaning to anticolonial movements, portraying decolonization as taming nature made it part of modernization and coded counter-insurgency as unenlightened, even primitive. What, then, was to be done with an ally that continued to insist on confronting Third World nationalism head-on? 45

     While Churchill finally relinquished power the following year, the French in North Africa appeared ready to fight to the bitter end. Since 1950, the State Department had adhered to a "middle-of-the-road" policy in the region—supporting Paris in public and especially at the United Nations while privately urging political reforms. Yet this policy had aroused French suspicions of the Americans' motives without sparing them the enmity of North African nationalists and their growing band of supporters.⁷⁸ In April 1955, the world's first Afro-Asian conference in Bandung, Indonesia, issued a ringing endorsement of North Africa's right to independence.⁷⁹ 46

     Three months later, when nationalist unrest spread to the French protectorate of Morocco and appeared to endanger American Strategic Air Command bases, Dulles ordered the consul general in Tangier, Julius Holmes, to conduct a secret review of U.S. policy. The secretary complained that the American approach to North Africa had for too long been dominated by a concern for France and insisted that "the issues at stake for the United States in North Africa are much broader." It was dangerous, not only in North Africa but also in similar areas, to consider policy solely, or even mainly, in terms of relations with the European powers. According to Dulles, the United States thereby risked alienating "the great mass of mankind which is non-white and non-European."⁸⁰ 47

     Holmes's report also expresses a view of decolonization as a matter of managing race relations between separate and increasingly unequal populations. Regarding North Africans and French polices toward them, Holmes was "struck by the homogeneity of the former and the diversity of the latter." Twenty-five million Moroccans, Algerians, and Tunisians, united—according to Holmes—by a common language, culture, and religion, were increasing by 500,000 each year. The French could not therefore "ignore the march of history as expressed by the wave of nationalism that has swept the former colonial world since the end of the war." When united, as at Bandung and the UN, it was "a powerful force with which Europe and America must reckon to an ever increasing degree."⁸¹ Holmes's conclusions appeared to be confirmed in September, when the Afro-Asian states succeeded in placing Algeria on the UN General Assembly's agenda, provoking a French walkout. While the debate raged, Holmes wrote to Dulles that, in the face of the "riptide of nationalism in Africa and Asia," the United States should work to preserve the area for the West. Only self-government could "counteract the attractions of Pan-Arabism and the 'Brotherhood' of Islam." But he was scathing in his assessment of the French capacity for evolution, judging them "allergic to change."⁸² 48

     In fact, even as he wrote these words, the French government was moving to grant independence to Morocco—and for the very reasons cited by Holmes and Eisenhower before him. Aspirations to self-government, Prime Minister Edgar Faure argued in the National Assembly, "in a country like Morocco, cannot be denied, nor broken, and we must divert it towards cooperation with France."⁸³ Faure was defeated in the next round of elections, but Guy Mollet's new government took up this policy of diverting the force of nationalism around Algeria by accommodating moderates in Morocco and Tunisia, too. They conceded "independence within interdependence" to the protectorates, calculating that French aid and advisers could limit their autonomy by maintaining cultural, commercial, and military ties. As Defense Minister Maurice Bourgès-Maunoury explained it to Ambassador C. Douglas Dillon in February 1956, this was "a struggle between Middle Eastern Islamic fanaticism and Western-oriented moderate nationalism."⁸⁴ 49

     In its most ambitious formulation, this policy envisioned striking a deal with secular nationalists in Algeria itself. Four days after the new government's investiture, Foreign Minister Christian Pineau told Dillon that, "if [the] problem could be limited strictly to Algerian nationalist aspirations, [the] government felt confident that [a] solution could be reached," since they were "prepared to make far reaching concessions. However if [the] problem became one of Islam versus the French, partaking the aspects of a holy war, it was clear that the French could never find a solution and [the] eventual results were impossible to foresee."⁸⁵ 50

     Dividing North Africans into categories opposing "moderate nationalists" to "Islamic fanatics" was a discursive as well as a political strategy. It helped the French to imagine Algerian proteges and argue for U.S. support. "Far reaching concessions" would unite everyone who was "Western-oriented" and mark off a shared space in which all results were possible to foresee, averting a contest—"Islam versus the French"—that France might actually lose. Ironically, it was the fanaticism of French settlers that sabotaged this strategy. Two days after the Pineau-Dillon meeting, rioting mobs of pieds noirs forced Mollet to install a hard-liner, Robert Lacoste, as his government's representative in Algiers. 51

     The new resident minister relished the idea of civilizational combat. Lacoste's first "General Directive" asserted, "The war we are waging in this country is that of the Western World, of civilization against anarchy, democracy against dictatorship."⁸⁶ Interestingly, while relegating the FLN to the realm of the unredeemable "other," this directive did not refer to, or even allude to, the Soviets. The prime minister himself believed that pan-Islamism had all but eclipsed the Soviet threat. "The present period will be decisive for the future of the world," Mollet told British Prime Minister Anthony Eden. "After having contained the offensive of pan-slavism, the West must now confront that of pan-Islamism, which conspires with Soviet pan-slavism. Colonel Nasser, in his writings, has made his objective known: to recreate the empire of Islam around Egypt." Mollet insisted that there was "only one game which is being played out in the Near East as in North Africa: that of the expansion of pan-Islamism."⁸⁷ 52

     As we have seen, Egypt did indeed provide propaganda support to North African nationalists, not to mention covert shipments of arms and ammunition. But even aside from the absurd notion that Nasser, a sworn enemy of the Muslim Brothers, intended to create an Islamic empire, the French grossly overestimated his influence. Indeed, they were preparing to strike at Nasser and "pan-Islamism" just as the FLN was rejecting both Egyptian influence and religious nationalism.⁸⁸ When the FLN's leadership met secretly in the Soummam valley later that year, they criticized "the Arab states in general and Egypt in particular" for their limited and inconsistent support—inconsistent because Nasser had manipulated the weapons supply to induce France to limit support for Israel.⁸⁹ Similarly, the Soummam platform stressed the "national, political, and social" nature of the revolution, explicitly repudiating colonial propaganda that portrayed it as a "fanatical religious movement in the service of panislamism."⁹⁰ Of course, that did not settle the question.⁹¹ Yet to the extent that the French succeeded in representing their struggle as a race war or jihad, they hurt themselves more than the Algerians. The image of an anarchic and implacably antiwestern Algeria—ever present in Western perceptions—only undermined their argument that it could be pacified, prosperous, and remain an integral part of France. 53

     Dulles and Eisenhower were loathe to join any crusade against Islam, although they did hope to isolate Nasser. After failing to broker a peace settlement with Israel, Eisenhower complained that "the Arabs, absorbing major consignments of arms from the Soviets, are daily growing more arrogant and disregarding the interests of Western Europe and of the United States in the Middle East region."⁹² When the United States and Britain withdrew from the Aswan High Dam project in July 1956 and Nasser, buttressed by Soviet support, retaliated by nationalizing the Suez Canal, the "occidental" and "oriental" coalitions would appear to have been complete. After all the water imagery and worries about an Afro-Asian union, it was altogether fitting that the crisis came to a head over a dam and that the two sides lined up along the canal dividing the two continents. But Mollet feared that the Americans would shrink from an all-out clash of civilizations, warning Ambassador Dillon that "the US was embarking on the same course of error by appeasement that had been followed toward Hitler in the 1930's."⁹³ 54

     In fact, U.S. policymakers also interpreted Nasser's action as racial and religious fanaticism aimed at "reducing Western Europe literally to a state of dependency"—as Dulles put it—rather than as a bid for national political and economic independence.⁹⁴ Yet sharing a discourse did not exclude differences between governments and may even have exacerbated them. When Eisenhower had met with his advisers to decide the American response, CIA director Allen Dulles warned that the military action envisioned by the allies "would arouse the whole Arab world. The President enlarged this to the whole Moslem world." Eisenhower remarked that Nasser "embodies the emotional demands of the people of the area for independence and for 'slapping the white Man down,'" and worried that joining in an attack on Egypt could "array the world from Dakar to the Philippine Islands against us." The "mighty river" of Arab and Islamic nationalism he had long feared was now threatening to overflow its banks. This was no time for gunboat diplomacy.⁹⁵ 55

     So when Britain, France, and Israel colluded in an attack on Suez, Washington forced them to withdraw by withholding economic support and leading the diplomatic opposition.⁹⁶ Eisenhower then resolved to seek congressional authorization to extend aid to Middle Eastern allies and, if necessary, deploy American forces against "overt armed aggression from any country controlled by international communism." As H. W. Brands has argued, the administration sold the Eisenhower Doctrine as anticommunism, but it was really aimed at Nasser, who had grown even stronger as a result of Suez.⁹⁷ At the time, some in the State Department were even entertaining the idea of a Middle Eastern entente with the Soviets. In a January 1957 briefing for Dulles's eventual successor, Christian Herter, one official suggested the possibility of "a deal with the Russians which would involve our refraining from a military buildup in the area in return for the Soviets refraining from encouraging instability."⁹⁸ 56

     In fact, in the course of 1957, Soviet-Egyptian relations grew increasingly tense. Moscow was no less disturbed than Washington when, in January 1958, Nasser merged Egypt with Syria as the United Arab Republic. The authors of a National Security Council study concluded that the United States could not "close the door firmly to the possibility of any conceivable understanding with the Soviet Union." "We have not defined, on an area basis, with any precision the degree of Soviet presence and influence in a country which we would be prepared to tolerate." Although the rest of the paper expresses a conventional East-West view, the fact that the authors considered acquiescing in Soviet expansion indicates they could imagine something even worse.⁹⁹ Dulles himself noted in March 1958 that "Soviet plots" were nowhere in evidence in Indonesia, North Africa, or the Middle East—then the major trouble spots and all Islamic areas, as Irwin Wall has noted—while Ike took "vigorous exception" to the idea that others were acting on Moscow's behalf.¹⁰⁰ 57

     Thus, by 1958, the Eisenhower administration had come to view Arab and Islamic nationalism as a force in its own right, though one the Soviets might use to turn the Western flank from the south. That same month, Dulles told French Foreign Minister Pineau that "the prospect of seeing the hostilities spread beyond North Africa from Algeria to the Persian Gulf—with the communists providing logistical support and armed aid" was "terrifying" to him.¹⁰¹ The French position in Algeria had not only continued to deteriorate after Suez, they were poised to expand the conflict by attacking FLN bases in Tunisia. After they bombed a Tunisian border town and ignited an international uproar, Dulles tried to force them to the negotiating table, once again exploiting U.S. economic leverage. The secretary told the French ambassador, Hervé Alphand, "it is indispensable that you look for a political solution while there is still time." More specifically, he said, "whatever may be the French determination to continue the fight . . . financial conditions could, at some point, stand in their way," adding that certain senators had asked him to renege on an earlier loan.¹⁰² 58

     Dulles ought to have been concerned about domestic criticism of his "middle-of-the-road" policy on Algeria. In July 1957, even before the crisis, John F. Kennedy had condemned U.S. support for France in a Senate speech. But the secretary seems to have been more preoccupied by the effects on North-South relations. In the midst of the Tunisian crisis, he repeated for a French newspaper correspondent his vision of North Africa "as a kind of pool of raw materials for Western Europe like the Western states were for the thirteen colonies during the formation of our republic." Yet he feared that the war was leading to "grave dissension between the West and Islam."¹⁰³ Eisenhower backed his efforts, declaring that there was "no solution to the North African problem except a political settlement which would give Algeria a chance for independence." Most important, he was prepared to "accept considerable risks as far as France's role in NATO was concerned in an effort to try to get France to take such a position."¹⁰⁴ 59

     In April 1958, the French government bowed to American pressure to settle the border conflict with Tunisia. The following month, amid rumors of a "diplomatic Dien Bien Phu," pieds noirs in Algiers once again took to the streets and, with the support of the army, succeeded in returning Charles de Gaulle to power. While Le Général was in a stronger position to demand U.S. support, his backers did not realize that he opposed assimilation. "The Muslims, have you gone to see them?" he asked Alain Peyrefitte, a Gaullist deputy. "You've looked at them, with their turbans and their djellabas? You can see that these are not Frenchmen!" "Do you believe that the French body could absorb ten million Muslims, who tomorrow will be twenty million and the day after that forty? . . . [H]ow would we prevent them from coming to settle in the metropole, where the standard of living is so much higher. My village would no longer be called Colombey-les-Deux-Eglises but Colombey-les-Deux-Mosquées!"¹⁰⁵ 60

     De Gaulle would not, however, concede Algeria independence, hoping instead that it would become part of a larger confederation—the Communauté—which would ensure continued French influence in Africa and repair relations with the Arab world. Ironically, as de Gaulle moved to grant Algeria greater autonomy and appease Egypt, the Americans headed for a confrontation with Nasser. Blaming him for the fall of the pro-Western government in Iraq in July 1958, Eisenhower grew alarmed over "the struggle of Nasser to get control of these [petroleum] supplies—to get the income and the power to destroy the Western world. Somewhere along the line we have got to face up to that issue." If confronted with an embargo, the president had already said he would go to war to break it.¹⁰⁶ 61

     De Gaulle opposed British and U.S. plans to land troops in support of friendly regimes in Jordan and Lebanon, predicting that it would be perceived as "an Occidental intervention." "[T]hey don't distinguish much between us," he told Dulles, "and they are quite right not to."¹⁰⁷ Indeed, it is difficult to distinguish the Eisenhower administration's approach to the Arab world during the Lebanon crisis from that of the French before Suez. Vice-President Richard Nixon insisted that "we could not allow a wave of mob emotionalism to sweep away all our positions in the Near East." Similarly, Dulles advised that "we must regard Arab nationalism as a flood which is running strongly. We cannot successfully oppose it, but we can put up sandbags around positions we must protect."¹⁰⁸ 62

     Yet the secretary had lost credibility on the issue, admitting that "the Iraqi government fell because Iraq was in an unnatural association . . . in the Baghdad Pact"—an anticommunist alliance with Britain, Turkey, Iran, and Pakistan that he himself had supported.¹⁰⁹ By now calling it "unnatural," he tacitly accepted that Arab unity was a more "natural" organizing principle of international politics. In an apparent rebuke to Dulles, Eisenhower concluded in the next National Security Council meeting that, "Since we are about to get thrown out of the area, we might as well believe in Arab nationalism." He withdrew U.S. troops from Lebanon and accepted a compromise settlement, deciding to work with Arab nationalism and particularly with Nasser in view of his support among "the great mass of Arabs."¹¹⁰ 63

     In the meantime, de Gaulle had grown disgusted with Washington's disregard for traditional French interests in the Levant. On September 14, he invited Konrad Adenauer to Colombey-les-Deux-Eglises for a "man-to-man" talk.¹¹¹ De Gaulle declared that France was no longer menaced "except by the danger that comes from the East": "This is all the more reason to bring Europe together against Asia. We must extend the peace toward the East, toward Poland for example which must not remain within Asian hands. This is also true of Czechoslovakia, of Hungary, and even—why not?—of European Russia." He argued that Europeans should unite to resist becoming an instrument of the United States. They had to unite all of Europe, he warned, or there would be no Europe.¹¹² 64

     Thus, like Papon before him, de Gaulle believed Europeans risked extinction if they did not unite and pursue a larger ambition under French leadership, ultimately forming a power bloc—Eurafrica—to compete with the superpowers and withstand Asia's resurgence. Yet the Algerian War had to be settled first, and he believed that the FLN could never be forced to accept less than complete independence as long as Washington did not give France a free hand in North Africa.¹¹³ Later that month, de Gaulle therefore presented Eisenhower and British Prime Minister Harold Macmillan with a memorandum arguing that NATO was ill-adapted to the global nature of the Soviet challenge. What was needed was an entirely new organization joining the United States, Britain, and France in strategic decision-making and dividing the world into their respective spheres of influence. He concluded by emphasizing that this tripartite organization was "indispensable," and that France "subordinates to it as of now all development of its present participation in NATO."¹¹⁴ 65

     Despite this threat, in December the United States abstained instead of voting with France's supporters against an Afro-Asian General Assembly resolution that recognized the Algerians' right to independence. De Gaulle was furious. Eisenhower and Dulles had never complained about his handling of Algeria and had often expressed their admiration. Moreover, while there were several areas of contention in Franco-American relations—especially de Gaulle's refusal to allow the stationing of American nuclear stockpiles on French soil—he had been unfailingly loyal in opposing Nikita Khrushchev's ongoing attack on allied rights in Berlin.¹¹⁵ 66

     How is the American attitude to be understood? While Dulles began to express regret in the last months of his life that decolonization was proceeding too rapidly and that the General Assembly had grown to be unmanageable, he still preferred risking relations with France to confronting the Third World.¹¹⁶ Thus he opposed the tripartite proposal not so much because of the vehement opposition of the other NATO allies but because it might offend the countries of Africa and the Middle East. By 1958, he and Eisenhower wanted to avoid being identified with colonialism at all costs. De Gaulle's return had not reduced Algeria's status as the anticolonial struggle par excellence—indeed, it attracted even more attention to it.¹¹⁷ 67

     In March 1959, de Gaulle ordered the French Mediterranean fleet to withdraw from NATO command.¹¹⁸ "[T]he basic cause of this," Ambassador Alphand explained, "had been the profound personal shock to General de Gaulle of the US abstention in the UN debate on Algeria."¹¹⁹ In addition, Paris reiterated its opposition to the stationing of nuclear stockpiles unless it received satisfaction on the tripartite proposal, Algeria, and American assistance to France's nuclear program. Consequently, the Joint Chiefs of Staff felt compelled to withdraw nine American squadrons and begin planning the redeployment of U.S. forces from France.¹²⁰ 68

     By August, the Joint Chiefs were insisting that Washington "get off the dime" and back de Gaulle in Algeria. But in a National Security Council meeting, Eisenhower dismissed the very idea: "To support the French would be to run counter to everything we have done in the past . . . To stand up with the colonial powers would be to cut ourselves from our own moorings; it was an adventurous idea." Henry Cabot Lodge, U.S. representative to the UN, pointed out that Algeria "had become a symbol in the Arab countries and in the Muslim world as a whole." While Eisenhower understood "why military men could take the position that NATO was more important than Algeria," he insisted that "we had to continue to take a somewhat cagey position."¹²¹ 69

     Even though the president did not explain this "cagey position," it appears to have precluded providing what the French would have considered full and forthright support, no matter what policy they proposed. Even when, the following month, de Gaulle announced that Algerians would have the right to choose independence in a referendum, Eisenhower still would not vote with France's supporters at the UN. Interpreting the proposed National Security Council policy, the president stated that "a solution 'in consonance with U.S. interests' meant that we should avoid the charge that we were one of the colonial powers." The solution itself was secondary; it was avoiding the charge that mattered—and to Eisenhower it mattered a great deal.¹²² Earlier that year, he had told the National Security Council that population growth had become "a constant worry to him and from time to time reduced him to despair." Now he complained that American aid had focused excessively on the communist threat: "we have had a narrower view than we should have. The real menace here was the one and a half billion hungry people in the world."¹²³ 70

Eisenhower and his administration sometimes had a narrow view, but it is remarkable how far-reaching their vision could be. Historians who assume that they were blinded by a "Cold War lens," on the other hand, have been unable to explain their focus on the emerging Third World. "Why would US leaders, at a time when the power of the United States was at its historic zenith, have been driven to such a degree by their sense of danger, fear, and vulnerability," Robert McMahon asks. "If, as appears almost certainly the case, US interpretations of the Soviet threat in the Third World—and elsewhere—were vastly exaggerated, then how do we account for such exaggerations?"¹²⁴ 71

     As long as we assume that U.S. leaders only worried about the Soviets, it is indeed difficult to account for their policies. This analysis has explored their fears of North-South conflict to explain their willingness to jeopardize NATO in order to appease Third World sentiment about the Algerian War—even when they agreed with the French position. But it may also illuminate other aspects of American diplomacy in the period, such as foreign aid, along with domestic policy on civil rights and immigration.¹²⁵ 72

     Determining how ideas and imagery of development and cultural difference shaped North-South relations requires much more research not only in state archives but also the papers of multinational corporations, foundations, and international organizations, which are all too often ignored in cultural studies.¹²⁶ In some cases, they may only confirm scholars' worst suspicions about how the rich and powerful have sought to limit other peoples' independence, but they show why an informed critique cannot rely on the public record. As Dulles confided to de Gaulle: "I've always felt that in every society since time began there were a few people who have exercised the controlling force. It all depends on how they do it. We must do it in a manner not to irritate the others. Those of us having greater responsibilities must exercise these powers. France too has great responsibility and must play her role. I feel that any too close association must be avoided in order to avoid offense to smaller nations." Historians have a responsibility of their own when confronted with this kind of evidence. It demonstrates why they cannot limit their work to recovering the voices of subalterns, since theirs is not the only silence that bespeaks hegemony. They must sometimes make elites speak—a task that can be no less difficult and no less vital.¹²⁷ 73

     Yet once we examine how discourses operated in elite decision-making, we discover that they were hardly hegemonic. Dulles and de Gaulle could use the same language of development and civilizational conflict to argue forcefully for very different policies. Even when the French and the Americans deployed the same discourses to communicate the same approach, they still found it all too easy to avoid "any too close association." Indeed, Third World peoples could seize on these ideas and imagery to divide the allies and empower themselves, as the Algerians soon realized. We have already seen how they naturalized their struggle as part of the "normal course of the historical evolution of humanity." But as they neared negotiations, they also played on anxieties about a wider war along religious and racial lines. When the foreign minister of the Provisional Algerian Government, Lamine Debaghine, suggested persuading the Arab states and China to threaten intervention, he was not motivated by the material contribution they could make. Instead, he wanted to raise the specter of "a confrontation between the West and the East . . . The final stage," Debaghine predicted, "will be China's intervention. This will lead the West to put a stop to the war in Algeria."¹²⁸ His successor, Belkacem Krim, was less subtle when he assured the Americans that he "did not want to suggest that volunteers would be trained for race warfare in black Africa."¹²⁹ 74

     As the negotiations proceeded, the Algerians and their allies shaped opinion by encouraging both apprehensions about race war and hopes for a modern, multi-racial Algeria. So while Krim visited Peking and started rumors about enlisting Chinese volunteers, President Ferhat Abbas indicated that the pieds noirs would have a place in independent Algeria.¹³⁰ Similarly, at the same time Tunisian Premier Habib Bourguiba assured Paris that he would not admit the volunteers, he warned others that "'Chinese hordes' would soon trample across Tunisian soil."¹³¹ As the future king of Morocco, Prince Moulay Hassan, declared, "We are Muslims and have the right to be bigamists. We can therefore marry ourselves to the East and to the West and be loyal to our two wives."¹³² Thus North Africans mocked the us-them dichotomies with which the French and their allies wished to contain them, asserting their own identities and independence. 75

     Indeed, this history shows how "discourses of power" often befuddled and enfeebled Western policymakers. We have seen how French ministers' tendency to think in terms of "civilization against anarchy" or "Islam versus the French" led to the disastrous expedition against Egypt, capital of their imaginary "empire of Islam." Eisenhower and Dulles were inhibited rather than incited by fears of civilizational conflict, but they, too, ignored the cleavages between Arab nationalism and Islamic reformism and exaggerated Nasser's influence in events like the 1958 revolution in Iraq. While describing anticolonial movements as a flood or a tide demeaned the individuality and conscious agency of colonized peoples, as Ranajit Guha argues, it also made resisting their advance seem irrational.¹³³ It led Eisenhower to perceive the "one and a half billion hungry people in the world" as powerful, whereas others, using the language of disease or contagion, might have portrayed them as pathetic, deserving a write-off rather than demanding appeasement.¹³⁴ 76

     Exploring the multiplicity and mobility of discourses through specific institutions and policies allows us not only to discover their varied and paradoxical consequences but also to connect text and context, cultural practices and political economy, in a way that too often eludes postcolonial studies. Whether it signifies a historical era, a critical stance, or a political predicament, the very term "postcolonial" would signify nothing if it did not somehow refer to "the revolt against the West" and the reaction of the United States and its European allies. The connections between the emergence of post-colonialism as an intellectual project and what has been described here as the general crisis of the colonial world—a world that clearly encompassed both metropole and colony, Parisian intellectuals and Kabyle peasants—are still murky. But examining a particularly acute phase like the Algerian War can help reveal how and why people in the First and Third Worlds began to reject "us-them" dichotomies that no longer represented their lived experiences. If we do not attempt to study these experiences in all their diversity and all their specificity, we risk perpetuating a colonial/postcolonial dichotomy, as Anne McClintock has argued, encouraging the search for chimera like "the post colonial Other" and the neglect of more pressing questions about the real nature and extent of decolonization. If Stuart Hall is right in suggesting that this failing is related, in part, to a reaction against Marxist economic determinism, then a Cold War lens has also obscured the vision of postcolonial studies, diffracting it into political-economic and cultural categories.¹³⁵ 77

     What would the international history of the last half-century look like if we were to take off this lens? To be sure, "there is no such thing as an immaculate representation," as Fernando Coronil reminds us. Any new interpretation risks introducing new omissions and new distortions.¹³⁶ It would be particularly unfortunate if historians can recover neglected aspects of our recent past only at the cost of ignoring the profound importance of the Cold War and the increasingly sophisticated scholarship that it has occasioned. We will not—or at least should not—suddenly discover that discourses about North-South conflict altogether replaced concerns about the more overt, obvious confrontation with the Soviets, or that it was a steady progression from one worldview to another. This account has emphasized how these concerns interacted and were not mutually exclusive. The worst-case scenario, from the perspective of allied policymakers, was an international lineup pitting "the West against the rest" with Moscow in the lead. As a 1959 congressional report on foreign aid noted: "The simple assumption that communism flows from poverty is so widely accepted in America that it is almost an article of faith."¹³⁷ So worries about Third World poverty and population growth—even when they were given higher priority than the direct confrontation with the Soviets—could be reconciled with an East-West, zero-sum approach to international politics. 78

     Yet, before concluding, it is worth considering the kind of evidence that demonstrates how fears of North-South conflict undermined faith in the Cold War system—not only by dividing allies like the United States and France, already discussed, but also by leading some to reimagine international relations as race relations, or even as a "clash of civilizations." Thus the Canadian representative to the UN—and later Nobel Prize winner—Lester B. Pearson wrote in 1955 that "the most far-reaching problems arise no longer between nations within a single civilization but between civilizations themselves."¹³⁸ We have already seen how de Gaulle thought the East-West coalitions would break down along racial lines. His strategy of extending Europe "from the Atlantic to the Urals" was based on an idea that ought by now to be familiar to the reader. As he explained in a November 1959 press conference: 79

No doubt Soviet Russia, in spite of having helped Communism to strike root in China, recognizes that nothing can change the fact that she is Russia, a white nation of Europe which has conquered part of Asia, and is, in sum, richly endowed with land, mines, factories and wealth, face to face with the yellow masses of China, numberless and impoverished, indestructible and ambitious, building through trial and hardship a power which cannot be measured and casting her eyes about her on the open spaces over which she must one day spread.¹³⁹

Some Americans shared his conviction that the West could come to terms with Russians in contrast to "the yellow masses of China." After the Cuban missile crisis, one of them sent a message to de Gaulle. He argued that there were no real differences between the United States and France in Europe because there was no longer a Soviet military threat. Nevertheless, he insisted that "the area where we would have problems in the future . . . was China"—especially if it obtained nuclear weapons.

This was the great menace in the future to humanity, the free world, and freedom on earth. Relations with the Soviet Union could be contained within the framework of mutual awareness of the impossibility of achieving any gains through war. But in the case of China, this restraint would not be effective because the Chinese would be perfectly prepared, because of the lower value they attach to human life, to sacrifice hundreds of millions of their own lives.

The author was none other than John F. Kennedy.¹⁴⁰ Thus, even in the era of "The New Frontier," conservatives and liberals alike continued to fear war along a North-South frontier, picturing it much as the Yellow Peril novelists did decades before—and as some foreign policy analysts do today.¹⁴¹ This frontier is never defined solely by economic criteria and ideologies of modernization. Regardless of whether China is rich or poor, capitalist or communist, it somehow remains menacing in the Western imagination. Indeed, perhaps only the vague yet vivid imagery of racial and religious conflict can separate vast and otherwise meaningless geopolitical categories like North and South or East and West. But because these are "imagined geographies"—to adopt Edward Said's phrase—their boundaries shift over time.¹⁴² Compare, for instance, de Gaulle's and Kennedy's views with the rhetoric of the early Cold War, when Truman pictured Russians as "Eastern hordes." By the 1960s, the USSR had reappeared as "a white nation of Europe" as "the West" began to expand east.

     The reason we ought to remove the Cold War lens is not simply that the world needs a new prescription. It is that we need more than one way of looking at the world if we are not to be captive to categories like "the West" and "the rest." Examining events like the Algerian War for Independence through different optics reveals how these categories are constructed and endowed with analytical and political power, patterning the way we think about international politics even after the demise of the Soviet Union. Yet if these categories are imaginary, they are not altogether arbitrary. The precise ways in which knowledge and power connect to form "the imperial edifice" referred to at the outset stem from specific and identifiable concerns, including disenchantment with "modernization" and the specter of civilizational conflict, which have a history that transcends both the Cold War and colonial eras. To recognize these connections, scholars must transcend their own imaginary categories, which somehow divide political economy from the cultural aspects of imperialism, categories that themselves reflect outdated concerns about reductionist Marxism. By taking off the Cold War lens, diplomatic historians and postcolonial scholars may finally recognize a common intellectual project and begin to illuminate the origins of the post–Cold War world. 80

Matthew Connelly is an assistant professor of history and public policy at the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. This article grew out of a Yale University dissertation on the international history of the Algerian War for Independence, which he is currently revising for publication. It also indicates the direction of his next project: a history of international efforts to control population growth.

Notes

I would like to thank Yale University and the University of Michigan for supporting the research that made this article possible. I am also indebted to all those who read and commented on earlier versions, but especially the anonymous reviewers of the AHR, along with Isaac Campos, John Carson, Juan Cole, Frederick Cooper, John Lewis Gaddis, Gabrielle Hecht, Paul Kennedy, Jonathan Marwil, Stephanie Platz, Brian Porter, William Quandt, Gaddis Smith, Scott Spector, Marc Trachtenberg, Maris Vinovskis, and Irwin Wall.
¹ Anouar Abdel-Malek, "Orientalism in Crisis," Diogenes 44 (1963): 103–40; Abdellatif Laâbi, "Le Gachis," Souffles 7–8 (1967): 1–14; Edmund Burke III, "The Image of the Moroccan State in French Ethnological Literature: A New Look at the Origin of Lyautey's Berber Policy," in Ernest Gellner and Charles Micaud, eds., Arabs and Berbers: From Tribe to Nation in North Africa (Lexington, Mass., 1972), 175–99; Abdallah Laroui, L'histoire du Maghreb: Un essai de synthèse (Paris, 1975); Philippe Lucas and Jean-Claude Vatin, L'Algérie des anthropologues (Paris, 1975); Le mal de voir: Ethnologie et orientalisme; Politique et épistémologie, critique et autocritique . . . (Paris, 1976); Edward Said, Orientalism (New York, 1978).
² Terrence J. McDonald, ed., The Historic Turn in the Human Sciences (Ann Arbor, Mich., 1996).
³ For a programmatic statement, see Ranajit Guha, "On Some Aspects of the Historiography of Colonial India," although it does not deny the utility of "elitist historiography," and early Subaltern Studies skillfully used official sources to recover insurgent voices; Subaltern Studies I (New York, 1982), 1–7. More recent work has shifted from archival research to discourse analysis; see Gyan Prakash, "Subaltern Studies as Postcolonial Criticism," AHR 99 (December 1994): 1477–83. While Benita Parry cautions against holding up representative works of this heterogeneous field, she observes that seminal studies by Homi Bhabha and Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak "are submerged in a shared programme marked by the exorbitation of discourse and a related incuriousity about the enabling socio-economic and political institutions." Parry, "Problems in Current Theories of Colonial Discourse," Oxford Literary Review 9 (1987): 43. On this point, see also note 135.
⁴ Dane Kennedy, "Imperial History and Post-Colonial Theory," Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History 24 (September 1996): 346. Kennedy advocates a dialogue between the fields, although he used the imperial metaphor knowing that it "resonated with readers"; 359.
⁵ Emily S. Rosenberg, "Revisiting Dollar Diplomacy: Narratives of Money and Manliness," Diplomatic History 22 (Spring 1998): 158.
⁶ See Anders Stephanson's commentary on the recent symposium "Imperial Discourses: Power and Perception," in which one contribution claims that the Philadelphia Commercial Museum was "the most significant institutional manifestation of the cultural and intellectual apparatus that made American imperialism possible at the turn of the twentieth century," while another asserts that travel to Europe "formed a cultural or ideological foundation for imperialism and increasing U.S. engagement in world affairs." Steven Conn, "An Epistemology for Empire: The Philadelphia Commercial Museum, 1893–1926," Diplomatic History 22 (Fall 1998): 535; Christopher Endy, "Travel and World Power: Americans in Europe, 1890–1917," 565; and Stephanson, "Diplomatic History in the Expanded Field," 597–99.
⁷ Bruce Kuklick, "Confessions of an Intransigent Revisionist about Cultural Studies," Diplomatic History 18 (Winter 1994): 122. Kuklick was responding to studies of gendered discourses in foreign relations. Even though this work has grown increasingly sophisticated—grounding discursive analyses in archival research—it still elicits denunciations in H-Diplo, the field's discussion list on the World Wide Web (http://h-net2.msu.edu/diplo/Costigliola.htm). Far fewer works have explored American policymakers' attitudes toward race in the formulation of foreign policy, but see Michael H. Hunt, Ideology and U.S. Foreign Policy (New Haven, Conn., 1987); Alexander DeConde, Ethnicity, Race, and American Foreign Policy: A History (Boston, 1992); and Paul Gordon Lauren, Power and Prejudice: The Politics and Diplomacy of Racial Discrimination (Boulder, Colo., 1996). As Douglas Little notes, neither Hunt nor Lauren—nor any other diplomatic historian—has examined the influence of orientalism on U.S. policy toward the Arab world; Little, "Gideon's Band: America and the Middle East since 1945," in Michael J. Hogan, ed., America in the World: The Historiography of American Foreign Relations since 1941 (New York, 1995), 498–99.
⁸ This article emphasizes the historically contingent and contested nature of concepts like development and geopolitical categories like the Third World, though they will appear hereafter without the "scare quotes."
⁹ Robert McMahon, "Eisenhower and Third World Nationalism: A Critique of the Revisionists," Political Science Quarterly 101 (1986): 457; Thomas Paterson, Meeting the Communist Threat: Truman to Reagan (New York, 1988), 178; John Lewis Gaddis, We Now Know: Rethinking Cold War History (New York, 1997), 176. Similarly, Thomas J. Noer argues, "The Cold War view of international relations made it difficult for the United States to adapt to the changes brought about by the demise of European colonialism and the rise of race as an element of diplomacy." Noer, Cold War and Black Liberation: The United States and White Rule in Africa, 1948–1968 (Columbia, Mo., 1985), 253. Fawaz A. Gerges holds that "the Eisenhower administration looked at regional developments through the prism of Washington's rivalry with Moscow." The Superpowers and the Middle East: Regional and International Politics, 1955–1967 (Boulder, Colo., 1994), 48. Penny M. Von Eschen contends that "officials in Washington understood such [nationalist] movements through the ideological prism of the Cold War," Race against Empire: Black Americans and Anticolonialism, 1937–1957 (Ithaca, N.Y., 1997), 133, although she stresses that this view was not monolithic.
¹⁰ Dulles to Holmes, July 13, 1955, John Foster Dulles Papers, Dwight D. Eisenhower Library, Abilene, Kansas (hereafter, DDEL), Subject Series, Box 6, North African Survey–1955, Julius Holmes.
¹¹ On accepting neutralism, see Eisenhower memorandum of conversation (hereafter, memcon) with Wilson, Radford, March 13, 1956, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1955–57, XIX (Washington, D.C., 1990), 239 (hereafter, FRUS with year and volume); and, more generally, H. W. Brands, The Specter of Neutralism: The United States and the Emergence of the Third World, 1947–1960 (New York, 1989). Regarding support for European integration, see Ronald W. Pruessen, "Beyond the Cold War—Again: 1955 and the 1990s," Political Science Quarterly 108 (Spring 1993): 74–75; and Marc Trachtenberg, A Constructed Peace: The Making of the European Settlement, 1945–1963 (Princeton, N.J., 1999), 146–52.
¹² Samuel P. Huntington, "The Clash of Civilizations?" Foreign Affairs 72 (Summer 1993): 22–49; see also Matthew Connelly and Paul Kennedy, "Must It Be the Rest against the West?" Atlantic Monthly (December 1994): 61–84. Elizabeth Cobbs Hoffman also argues that policymakers looked beyond the East-West contest, though she focuses on the 1960s and does not address fears of North-South conflict; Hoffman, "Decolonization, the Cold War, and the Foreign Policy of the Peace Corps," Diplomatic History 20 (Winter 1996): 79.
¹³ Some diplomatic historians influenced by world-systems theory have argued that the Cold War was directed at the Third World as much as the Soviet Union. For an overview, see David S. Painter, "Explaining U.S. Relations with the Third World," Diplomatic History 19 (Summer 1995): 529–35. But a purely political-economic analysis, especially one premised on a "core-periphery" model, appears inadequate to explain either the crisis of the colonial world or American reactions to it, as this article will seek to demonstrate.
¹⁴ Charles-Robert Ageron, Modern Algeria: A History from 1830 to the Present, Michael Brett, trans. (London, 1991), 83–84, 87; Pierre Bourdieu, The Algerians, Alan C. M. Ross, trans. (Boston, 1961), 128; John Ruedy, Modern Algeria: The Origins and Development of a Nation (Bloomington, Ind., 1992), 120–21, 123. For examples of official complicity in election rigging and massacres, see Moch to Schuman, January 31, 1948, Archives d'Outre-Mer, Aix-en-Provence (hereafter, AOM), Série MA, Affaires Algériennes (hereafter, MA), dossier 18; Barrat, "Additif à mon Rapport sur les événements de Guelma," June 27, 1945, dossier 586.
¹⁵ See, for instance, their most widely circulated propaganda pamphlet of the Algerian War, which insists that "Algeria's problem is, above all, a demographic problem." "Notions Essentielles sur l'Algérie," n.d. [c. 1956], AOM, Fonds du Cabinet Civil du Gouverneur Général de l'Algérie, 12/CAB/161.
¹⁶ Charles-Robert Ageron, "Français, juifs et musulmans: L'union impossible," in Ageron, ed., L'Algérie des Français (Saint-Quentin, 1993), 113; Ruedy, Modern Algeria, 121.
¹⁷ Louis Chevalier, Le problème démographique nord-africain, Institut National d'Etudes Démographiques: Travaux et documents (Paris, 1947), cahier no. 6: 148. It seems likely that this study influenced his seminal work Classes laborieuses et classes dangereuses à Paris pendant la première moitié du XIX^e siècle (Paris, 1958).
¹⁸ Chevalier, Le problème démographique, 7.
¹⁹ Carl E. Pletsch, "The Three Worlds, or the Division of Social Scientific Labor, circa 1950–1975," Comparative Studies in Society and History 23 (October 1981): 569–71. French propaganda encouraged the image of Algeria as "a small-scale model of the relationship between the underdeveloped countries and the industrialized nations of the world." "The Constantine Plan for Algeria: Opening New Frontiers in Development," n.d. [c. May 1961], British Library, London, SE.47/23.
²⁰ Sargent Shriver, Point of the Lance (New York, 1964), 8–9, quoted in Hoffman, "Decolonization," 79.
²¹ Walt Rostow, The Stages of Economic Growth: A Non-Communist Manifesto (Cambridge, 1960). On racial hierarchies and modernization theory, see Hunt, Ideology, 161. As Burton Kaufman notes, Rostow and other development experts greatly influenced Eisenhower and his foreign aid program, Trade and Aid: Eisenhower's Foreign Economic Policy 1953–1961 (Baltimore, 1982), 10, 96–99. French strategists shared the assumptions of their American counterparts about development and Third World instability; see D. Michael Shafer, Deadly Paradigms: The Failure of U.S. Counterinsurgency Policy (Princeton, N.J., 1988), 138–65. For the following critique, I am indebted to Shafer, Deadly Paradigms, 66–77; Frederick Cooper, "Africa and the World Economy," in Cooper, Allen F. Isaacman, and Florencia E. Mallon, et al., eds., Confronting Historical Paradigms: Peasants, Labor, and the Capitalist World System in Africa and Latin America (Madison, Wis., 1993), 87–90; Cooper and Randall Packard, "Introduction," International Development and the Social Sciences: Essays on the History and Politics of Knowledge (Berkeley, Calif., 1997), 1–41; and Irene L. Gendzier, Managing Political Change: Social Scientists and the Third World (Boulder, Colo., 1985), 1–13.
²² Andre Gunder Frank, "The Underdevelopment of Development," in Sing C. Chew and Robert A. Denemark, eds., The Underdevelopment of Development: Essays in Honor of Andre Gunder Frank (London, 1996), 23; Daniel Lerner, The Passing of Traditional Society (Glencoe, Ill., 1958).
²³ Karl Deutsch defines the supply and demand sides of social mobilization differently in Nationalism and Social Communication: An Inquiry into the Foundations of Nationality (New York, 1953), 127–30.
²⁴ Lerner, Passing, 232, 235, 254.
²⁵ Frantz Fanon, Studies in a Dying Colonialism, 1965, Haakon Chevalier, trans. (London, 1989), 83.
²⁶ Pierre Boulanger, Le cinéma colonial: De "l'Atlantide" à "Lawrence d'Arabie" (Paris, 1975), 272.
²⁷ Coup de Frejac, "Note à l'attention de M. le Délégué Général," February 11, 1961; and Figière, "Note au sujet des films egyptiens," April 25, 1960, AOM, Fonds du Cabinet Civil du Gouverneur Général de l'Algérie, 15/CAB/119.
²⁸ Youssef Chahine, director, Djamila Bouhired (c. 1959).
²⁹ Alphand to Pineau, June 10, 1957, Ministère des Affaires Etrangères, Paris (hereafter, MAE), Mission de Liaison Algérien (hereafter, MLA), Vol. 23 bis (provisional number), Action Extérieure, Etats-Unis, déc 1956–déc 1957, Cote EU; Guy Hennebelle, preface to Boulanger, Le cinéma, 6.
³⁰ Gendzier, Managing Political Change, 132.
³¹ Lerner, Passing, 286.
³² Lerner, Passing, 255–57.
³³ "Extraits de commentaires diffusés par Radio-Damas," May 14, 1956, MAE, Série ONU, dossier 549; "L'Algérie et la question algérienne," October 1956, dossier 550.
³⁴ Karl Deutsch, "Social Mobilization and Political Development," American Political Science Review 55 (1961): 501. Note, however, that Deutsch pulled back from his insight, confident that individuals would recognize their interest in preserving states big enough to administer essential services with efficiency. Walker Connor, Ethnonationalism: The Quest for Understanding (Princeton, N.J., 1994), 32. But by the 1970s, many social scientists began to view ethnic conflict as a by-product of modernization; Donald L. Horowitz, Ethnic Groups in Conflict (Berkeley, Calif., 1985), 3, 99–100.
³⁵ Eric R. Wolf, Peasant Wars of the Twentieth Century (New York, 1969), 280–81.
³⁶ A vast literature on resistance to the commercialization of agriculture has developed since Wolf's contribution. See, for instance, Joel S. Migdal, Peasants, Politics, and Revolution: Pressures toward Political and Social Change in the Third World (Princeton, N.J., 1974); James C. Scott, The Moral Economy of the Peasant: Rebellion and Subsistence in Southeast Asia (New Haven, Conn., 1976); and Michael Adas, "Market Demand versus Imperial Control: Colonial Contradictions and the Origins of Agrarian Protest in South and Southeast Asia," in Edmund Burke III, ed., Global Crises and Social Movements: Artisans, Peasants, Populists, and the World Economy (Boulder, Colo., 1988), esp. 106–08. For a critical view, see Theda Skocpol, States and Social Revolutions: A Comparative Analysis of France, Russia, and China (Cambridge, 1979).
³⁷ Wolf, Peasant Wars, 223–24; Jacques Marseille, "L'Algérie était-elle rentable?" in Ageron, L'Algérie des Français, 153; Marseille; "L'Algérie dans l'économie française (1954–1962)," Relations Internationales 58 (1989): 169–76.
³⁸ Ruedy, Modern Algeria, 125; Pierre Bourdieu, "The Algerian Subproletariat," in I. William Zartman, ed., Man, State, and Society in the Contemporary Maghrib (New York, 1973), 86–87; Charles-Robert Ageron, Histoire de l'Algérie contemporaine (Paris, 1979), 526; Marseille, "L'Algérie dans l'économie," 173. Marseille's figures are in "old" francs.
³⁹ John D. Hargreaves, Decolonization in Africa, 2d edn. (New York, 1996), 23, 100–12; Frederick Cooper, "Modernizing Bureaucrats, Backward Africans, and the Development Concept," in Cooper and Packard, International Development, 76–81.
⁴⁰ Rudolf von Albertini, Decolonization: The Administration and Future of the Colonies, 1919–1960 (Garden City, N.Y., 1971), 439–42.
⁴¹ John Strachey, The End of Empire (New York, 1959), 190.
⁴² Frederick Cooper, "Africa and the Development Idea," paper delivered at the Conference on Population and Security, Centre for History and Economics, Cambridge, February 17–19, 1995, 10–11, quoted with permission; Cooper, Decolonization and African Society: The Labor Question in French and British Africa (New York, 1996), 400–02, 462–63.
⁴³ Connelly and Kennedy, "Must It Be," 72 (the latter is responsible for this point).
⁴⁴ Simon Szreter, "The Idea of Demographic Transition and the Study of Fertility Change: A Critical Intellectual History," Population and Development Review 19 (December 1993): 661–63.
⁴⁵ A. J. Coale and E. M. H. Coale, Population Growth and Economic Development in Low-Income Countries (Princeton, N.J., 1958), 13–16; John Sharpless, "Population Science, Private Foundations, and Development Aid: The Transformation of Demographic Knowledge in the United States, 1945–1965," in Cooper and Packard, International Development, 190.
⁴⁶ M. Jacques Breil, "Etude de Démographie Quantitative," La population en Algérie: Rapport du Haut Comité Consultatif de la Population et de la Famille (Paris, 1957), 110–11, 120, 125, 128. Breil's projections were exaggerated, but they accurately reflected a longstanding French obsession with natality, especially vis-à-vis North Africa. See Hervé Le Bras, Marianne et les lapins: L'obsession démographique (Saint-Amand-Motrand, 1991), 181–82, 217–19. This had implications for women in both societies. While French authorities promoted the education of Algerian women as the most promising way to reduce birth rates, pronatalism had long been associated with attacks on la femme moderne in France; "L'Algérie du demi siècle vue par les autorités," 56–57, 256, n.d. [c. 1954], AOM, Fonds du Cabinet Civil du Gouverneur Général de l'Algérie, 10/CAB/28; Cheryl A. Koos, "Gender, Anti-Individualism, and Nationalism: The Alliance Nationale and the Pronatalist Backlash against the Femme Moderne, 1933–1940," French Historical Studies 19 (1996): 699–723.
⁴⁷ "World Population Trends and Problems," July 23, 1959, State Department Intelligence Report No. 8057, U.S. National Archives, College Park, Maryland (hereafter, USNA), RG 59. Of course, and as Amartya Sen has argued, dividing world population into racial categories presupposes that these categories have some political significance. Moreover, producing the intended effect requires a foreshortened historical perspective: in 1650, Asians and Africans alone are thought to have accounted for some 78 percent of world population. If the present trend continues and middle-range UN projections hold true, by 2050 they will "return to being proportionately almost exactly as numerous as they were before the European industrial revolution"; Sen, "Population: Delusion and Reality," New York Review of Books 41 (September 22, 1994): 63.
⁴⁸ Strachey, End of Empire, 312.
⁴⁹ Arthur Conte, "Rapport d'Information sur l'Aide aux Pays sous-développés," June 26, 1959, Archives Nationales, Paris (hereafter, AN), Archives Privées, Papiers de Georges Bidault, 457AP, dossier 180. There are many such passages on perceptions of "a Third World which is rising like the tide to swallow up all Europe" in Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth, 1961, Constance Farrington, trans. (New York, 1968), 39.
⁵⁰ "Une révolution démocratique," El Moudjahid, November 15, 1957.
⁵¹ Fanon, Wretched of the Earth, 50.
⁵² Albert Camus, Essais (Paris, 1965), 1882. On the ideological confusion provoked by the war, see Daniel Lindenberg, "Guerres de mémoire en France," Vingtième siècle 42 (April–June 1994): 91–94.
⁵³ Mitchell Stephens, "Deconstructing Jacques Derrida," Los Angeles Times Magazine (July 21, 1991): 14; see also Derrida and Différance, David Wood and Robert Bernasconi, eds. (Coventry, England, 1985), 74–75.
⁵⁴ Lucas and Vatin, L'Algérie des anthropologues, 72–75. See also Pierre Bourdieu, "Les conditions sociales de la production sociologique: Sociologie coloniale et décolonisation de la sociologie," in Le mal de voir, 416–27.
⁵⁵ Quoted in Philippe Forest, Histoire de Tel Quel, 1960–1982 (Paris, 1995), 94–102.
⁵⁶ Michael M. J. Fischer, "Is Islam the Odd-Civilization Out?" New Perspectives Quarterly 9 (Spring 1992): 54–55. "If so called 'so-called poststructuralism' is the product of a single historical moment," Robert Young rather tentatively suggests, "then that moment is probably not May 1968 but rather the Algerian War for Independence—no doubt itself both a symptom and a product." He adds Jean-Paul Sartre, Louis Althusser, and Jean-François Lyotard to the who's who list of those "either born in Algeria or personally involved with the events of the war." Young, White Mythologies: Writing History and the West (London, 1990), 1.
⁵⁷ Stuart Hall, "When Was 'The Post-Colonial'? Thinking at the Limit," in Iain Chambers and Lidia Curti, eds., The Post-Colonial Question: Common Skies, Divided Horizons (London, 1996), 249. Hall is quoting a rather unfair characterization of Young's argument by Ruth Frankenberg and Lati Mani, "Crosscurrents, Crosstalk: Race, 'Postcoloniality' and the Politics of Location," Cultural Studies 7 (May 1993): 301. But White Mythologies is vulnerable to this critique because it mythologizes the Algerian "moment" rather than seriously considering how the war's complex and protracted history might have given rise to new critiques of Western philosophical traditions—a question ripe for further research.
⁵⁸ Reprinted in Philippe Tripier, Autopsie de la guerre d'Algérie (Paris, 1972), 599.
⁵⁹ On anticolonial movements' use of universalist discourses, see Cooper, Decolonization and African Society, 468–70; and Partha Chatterjee's thought-provoking discussion, Nationalist Thought and the Colonial World: A Derivative Discourse? (London, 1986). Notwithstanding the title, Chatterjee's research is limited to India. In Algeria, the religious aspect of national identity has long been a subject of lively debate. See Hugh Roberts's astute analysis, "From Radical Mission to Equivocal Ambition: The Expansion and Manipulation of Algerian Islamism, 1979–1992," in The Fundamentalism Project, Vol. 4: Accounting for Fundamentalisms: The Dynamic Character of Movements, Martin E. Marty and R. Scott Appleby, eds. (Chicago, 1994), 428–89.
⁶⁰ Shafer, Deadly Paradigms, 49–50.
⁶¹ For a survey and analysis, see Arthur Herman, The Idea of Decline in Western History (New York, 1997).
⁶² "Perspectives Géopolitiques: Destin de l'Europe," n.d. [c. early 1952], AN, Papiers de René Mayer, 363 AP32, dossier 4, Correspondance.
⁶³ William F. Wu, The Yellow Peril: Chinese Americans in American Fiction, 1850–1940 (Hamden, Conn., 1982), 30–46. The standard work on the subject in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century is Heinz Gollwitzer, Die Gelbe Gefahr (Göttingen, 1962). See also Christopher Thorne, The Issue of War: States, Societies, and the Far Eastern Conflict of 1941–1945 (London, 1985), 27–32; and John W. Dower, War without Mercy: Race and Power in the Pacific War (New York, 1986), 156–64, which survey this theme through the onset of World War II.
⁶⁴ Michael S. Teitelbaum and Jay M. Winter, The Fear of Population Decline (Orlando, Fla., 1985), 52.
⁶⁵ Paul Valéry, "The Crisis of the Mind," in The Collected Works of Paul Valéry, Denise Folliot and Jackson Mathews, trans., Vol. 10, History and Politics (New York, 1962), 31 (emphasis in the original). See also Albertini, Decolonization, 11–12.
⁶⁶ E. A. Ross, Standing Room Only? (New York, 1927), 93–98, 341. See also Warren Thompson, Danger Spots in World Population (New York, 1930), 327–28.
⁶⁷ Oswald Spengler, The Hour of Decision, Part 1: Germany and World-Historical Evolution, Charles Francis Atkinson, trans. (New York, 1934), 227.
⁶⁸ Walter Millis, ed., The Forrestal Diaries (New York, 1951), 95–96. Similarly, in his famed long telegram of 1946, George F. Kennan attributed to the Soviets an "Oriental secretiveness and conspiracy." Kennan, Memoirs, 1925–1950 (Boston, 1967), 547–59. On typing Russians as Asiatic, see Dower, War without Mercy, 309.
⁶⁹ Monte M. Poen, ed., Strictly Personal and Confidential: The Letters Harry Truman Never Mailed (Boston, 1982), 145; Dean Acheson, Present at the Creation: My Years in the State Department (New York, 1969), 490, quoted in Hunt, Ideology, 156–57.
⁷⁰ Dower, War without Mercy, 160–78; Thorne, Issue of War, 177–89. See also Christopher Thorne, Allies of a Kind: The United States, Britain and the War against Japan, 1941–1945 (London, 1978), 7–9, 157–58, 172–75, 191, 359–60, 539.
⁷¹ Gary R. Hess, Vietnam and the United States: Origins and Legacy of War (Boston, 1990), 29.
⁷² Stephen E. Ambrose, Eisenhower, Vol. 2: The President (New York, 1984), 184.
⁷³ Egya Sangmuah, "The United States and the French Empire in North Africa, 1946–1956: Decolonization in the Age of Containment" (PhD dissertation, University of Toronto, 1989), 349.
⁷⁴ Robert H. Ferrell, ed., The Eisenhower Diaries (New York, 1981), 223.
⁷⁵ Ferrell, Eisenhower Diaries, 245.
⁷⁶ Quoted in Ronald W. Pruessen, John Foster Dulles: The Road to Power (New York, 1982), 425.
⁷⁷ Quoted in Gregory A. Olson, "Eisenhower and the Indochina Problem," in Martin J. Medhurst, ed., Eisenhower's War of Words: Rhetoric and Leadership (East Lansing, Mich., 1994), 98.
⁷⁸ On North Africa in Franco-American relations, see Matthew Connelly, "The French-American Conflict over North Africa and the Fall of the Fourth Republic," Revue française d'histoire d'outre-mer 84 (June 1997): 9–27; Pierre Mélandri, "La France et le 'jeu double' des Etats-Unis," in Jean-Pierre Rioux, ed., La guerre d'Algérie et les Français (Paris, 1990), 428–50; Egya N. Sangmuah, "Eisenhower and Containment in North Africa, 1956–1960," Middle East Journal 44 (Winter 1990): 76–91; Irwin M. Wall, "The United States, Algeria, and the Fall of the Fourth French Republic," Diplomatic History 18 (Fall 1994): 489–511.
⁷⁹ L'année politique, 1955 (Paris, 1956), 383–86. This conference was particularly troubling to Dulles, who considered the possibility of organizing a "reverse Bandung"—a conference that would demonstrate "a community of interest across racial lines and a slowing down of the racially conscious antipathy now developing in non-white areas"; Warren I. Cohen, Dean Rusk (Totowa, N.J., 1980), 83.
⁸⁰ "On the other hand, premature independence may be snatched away by extremists—usually Communist inspired," Dulles added in his own hand; Dulles to Holmes, July 13, 1955, Dulles Papers. At this point, he was still undecided as to whether the greater danger lay in supporting independence or the status quo. By 1957, his conversion to the cause of accelerated decolonization—at least for North Africa—would be complete.
⁸¹ Julius Holmes, "Report on French North Africa," July 29, 1955, USNA, RG 59, Central Decimal Files, 751S.00.
⁸² Holmes memo for Dulles, September 29, 1955, FRUS, 1955–57, XVIII, 105, 108–09. American diplomats often depicted their French allies as diseased or sickly, although the imagery of Franco-American relations lies beyond the scope of this article. See Frank Costigliola, France and the United States: The Cold Alliance since World War II (New York, 1992).
⁸³ L'année politique, 1955, 73.
⁸⁴ Dillon to Dulles, February 25, 1956, USNA, RG 59, Central Decimal Files, 751S.00. For other examples of this view, see Dillon to Dulles, February 17, 1956, 751S.00; Dillon to Dulles, March 2, 1956, USNA, RG 59, Central Decimal Files, 651.71; "Note: Réflexions préliminaires sur le problème marocain" (unsigned), February 1956, Archives de la Fondation Nationale des Sciences Politiques, Paris (hereafter, FNSP), Alain Savary Papers, SV9, Dr2.
⁸⁵ Dillon to Dulles, February 4, 1956, USNA, RG 59, Central Decimal Files, 751S.00.
⁸⁶ "Directive Générale," May 19, 1956, AOM, Affaires Algériennes, Echelons de Liaison, Sections Administratives Specialisées, DOC.SAS 1.
⁸⁷ Memcon Mollet-Eden, March 11, 1956, Documents diplomatiques français, 1956, I (Paris, 1988), No. 161 (hereafter, DDF with year and volume). This was not an isolated view. That same month, the respected former president Vincent Auriol called Algeria "today's center of Islamic aggression"; Dillon to State Department, March 2, 1956, USNA, RG 59, Central Decimal Files, 751S.00.
⁸⁸ Bernard Droz and Evelyne Lever, Histoire de la guerre d'Algérie, 1954–1962 (Paris, 1982), 103.
⁸⁹ Matthew Connelly, "The Algerian War for Independence: An International History" (PhD dissertation, Yale University, 1997), 221–26.
⁹⁰ Tripier, Autopsie de la guerre d'Algérie, 599–600. See also Mohammed Harbi, Le FLN: Mirage et réalité (Paris, 1980), 174.
⁹¹ The FLN did use religious names and symbols, and among the mujahadeen there were certainly those who fought to defend Islam; see Muhammad Muru, Al-Jaza'ir ta'udu li-Muhammad (Algiers, 1992), 101–02. See also Charles-Robert Ageron, "Une guerre religieuse?" Les Cahiers de l'Institut d'Histoire du Temps Présent (October 9, 1988): 27–29; Jacques Frémeaux, La France et l'Islam depuis 1789 (Paris, 1991), 248–50.
⁹² Ferrell, Eisenhower Diaries, 318–19.
⁹³ Dillon to Dulles, July 31, 1956, FRUS, 1955–57, XVI, 74–77.
⁹⁴ Memcon Eisenhower, Dulles, et al., with congressional leadership, August 12, 1956, FRUS, 1955–57, XVI, 189–92.
⁹⁵ Memcon Eisenhower, Dulles, et al., July 31, 1956, 63–64; Ambrose, Eisenhower, 331.
⁹⁶ There is a vast and growing literature on the Suez crisis, but the best general history remains Keith Kyle's Suez (London, 1991). On the economic aspects, see also Diane Kunz, The Economic Diplomacy of the Suez Crisis (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1991).
⁹⁷ H. W. Brands, The Specter of Neutralism, 282–89.
⁹⁸ "Guidelines for Review of US Foreign Policy," January 7, 1957, USNA, RG 59, PPS, Lot 67D548, Box 119, Foreign Policy, 1957–60.
⁹⁹ NSC 5801 Staff Study, January 16, 1958, DDEL, White House Office Files, Office of the Special Assistant for National Security, NSC Series, PPS, Box 23. On the Soviets and the UAR, see Gerges, Superpowers, 90–96.
¹⁰⁰ Wall, "United States, Algeria," 491.
¹⁰¹ Memcon Dulles-Lloyd-Pineau, March 12, 1958, DDF, 1958, I, No. 179.
¹⁰² Alphand to Ministère des Affaires Etrangères, March 5, 1958, MAE, Direction Amérique 1952–63, Etats-Unis—Algérie, dossier 33 (provisoire). Regarding American economic diplomacy, see Connelly, "French-American Conflict."
¹⁰³ Alphand to Pineau, April 25, 1958, MAE, Série MLA, dossier 24 (provisoire).
¹⁰⁴ Memcon Eisenhower-Dulles, April 3, 1958, FRUS, 1958–60, XIII, 841.
¹⁰⁵ Alain Peyrefitte, C'était de Gaulle (Paris, 1994), 52, and see also 54–55. Discerning de Gaulle's original intentions is extremely difficult as the general himself gave widely varying accounts, but he is quoted as saying much the same thing on a number of other occasions; see Xavier Yacono, De Gaulle et le F.L.N. 1958–1962: L'échec d'une politique et ses prolongements (Versailles, 1989), 20–21. For an analysis of his Algeria policy, see Connelly, "Algerian War," 347–59.
¹⁰⁶ Memcon with Vice President, July 15, 1958, FRUS, 1958–60, XI, 244; Kaufman, Trade and Aid, 90–91.
¹⁰⁷ Memcon Dulles-de Gaulle, et al., July 5, 1958, USNA, RG 59, Central Decimal Files, 611.51.
¹⁰⁸ 373rd Meeting of the NSC, July 24, 1958, DDEL, Ann Whitman File (AWF), NSC Series; memcon Dulles-Eisenhower, et al., July 23, 1958, FRUS, 1958–60, XII, 98. Nixon spoke as an authority on mobs, having almost been killed by one in Caracas two months earlier.
¹⁰⁹ 373rd Meeting of the NSC; Gerges, Superpowers, 27.
¹¹⁰ Gaddis, We Now Know, 175.
¹¹¹ Jean Lacouture, De Gaulle, Vol. 2: Le politique, 1944–1959 (Paris, 1985), 636.
¹¹² Memcon de Gaulle-Adenauer, September 14, 1958, DDF, 1958, II, No. 155. It is interesting to note that Poland, the Czech Republic, and Hungary were the first East European states admitted to NATO.
¹¹³ Connelly, "Algerian War," 371–75, 398–402, 412–15. On de Gaulle and Eurafrica, see also Irwin M. Wall, France, the United States, and the Algerian War (forthcoming).
¹¹⁴ De Gaulle to Eisenhower, September 17, 1958, FRUS, 1958–60, VII, Part 2, 81–83. Alphand told the British ambassador to Washington that the memorandum was prompted by a lack of U.S.-French cooperation in North Africa; see Caccia to Lloyd, October 31, 1958, Public Record Office, Kew, London (hereafter, PRO), PREM 11/3002; see also Connelly, "Algerian War," 380–86, and Irwin Wall, "Les relations Franco-Américaines et la guerre d'Algérie," Revue d'histoire diplomatique 110 (1996): 78–80. For differing interpretations, see Maurice Vaïsse, "Aux origines du mémorandum de septembre 1958," Relations internationales 58 (Summer 1989): 253–68; and Trachtenberg, Constructed Peace, chap. 6.
¹¹⁵ On de Gaulle's reaction, see Hervé Alphand, L'etonnement d'être: Journal, 1933–1973 (Paris, 1977), 301. For a particularly effusive example of Dulles's praise for de Gaulle's Algerian policy, see Alphand to Couve, October 17, 1958, MAE, MLA, dossier 24 (provisoire), Action Extérieure, Etats-Unis, Janvier 58–Juin 59, Cote ML 4. For a list of U.S.-French differences, see Merchant to Herter, November 28, 1958, FRUS, 1958–60, VII, Part 2, 124–26, though the author notes de Gaulle was "stout" vis-à-vis the Soviets.
¹¹⁶ Jebb to Lloyd, October 2, 1958, PRO, PREM 11/3002; Alphand, L'etonnement, 291.
¹¹⁷ Caccia to Lloyd, October 25, 1958, PRO, PREM 11/3002. On this point, see also Caccia to Lloyd, October 17, 1958; and memcon Dulles-Lloyd, October 19, 1958, PREM 11/3002.
¹¹⁸ Herter to Paris, March 6, 1959, FRUS, 1958–60, XIII, 650.
¹¹⁹ Memcon Herter-Alphand, March 3, 1959, USNA, RG 59, Records of the Policy Planning Staff 1957–1961, Lot 67D548, Box 136, France. Three days later, de Gaulle's foreign minister confirmed that "France was motivated in this move entirely by French reasons, the Algerian situation"; Lyon to Herter, March 6, 1959, FRUS, 1958–60, VII, Part 2, 185–86. See also Memcon Debré-Herter, et al., May 1, 1959, FRUS, 1958–60, VII, Part 2, 195–203.
¹²⁰ Memcon Herter-Eisenhower, May 2, 1959, FRUS, 1958–60, VII, Part 2, 203–07; editorial note, 234–35.
¹²¹ 417th Meeting of the NSC, August 18, 1959, DDEL, AWF, NSC Series.
¹²² Of course, de Gaulle had given the Americans grief in a number of other matters, but it does not appear that Eisenhower used the Algerian issue opportunistically. He was sympathetic to the general's position on NATO and nuclear sharing, asserting that "these difficulties can be ironed out. Algeria is the main problem." Memcon Eisenhower-Luns-Spaak, September 3, 1959, FRUS, 1958–60, VII, Part 1, 480–84.
¹²³ 408th and 417th Meetings of the NSC, May 28, 1959 and August 18, 1959, DDEL, AWF, NSC Series. In 1958, Eisenhower had instructed General William H. Draper to take up the population question in his blue ribbon committee on U.S. foreign aid. An internal document titled "The Population Explosion" predicted "international class war" if nothing were done. The committee's 1959 report called for U.S. assistance to control population growth although Eisenhower felt it was politically impossible to back them. However, after leaving office, he joined with Truman to serve as co-chairmen of the Planned Parenthood Federation; Oscar Harkavy, Curbing Population Growth: An Insider's Perspective on the Population Movement (New York, 1995), 35–37; Donald T. Critchlow, "Birth Control, Population Control, and Family Planning: An Overview," Journal of Policy History 7 (1995): 10.
¹²⁴ Robert McMahon, "The Illusion of Vulnerability: American Reassessments of the Soviet Threat, 1955–1956," International History Review 18 (August 1996): 616–17. After his massive study of the Truman administration, Melvyn P. Leffler is left pondering the same mystery: "For prudent men to have attributed so much importance to the periphery, for them to have possessed such exaggerated notions of Soviet capabilities in the Third World . . . was foolish indeed." A Preponderance of Power: National Security, the Truman Administration, and the Cold War (Stanford, Calif., 1992), 511.
¹²⁵ For instance, how else can we explain why, of all the Cold War–era presidents, it was Eisenhower—a fierce deficit hawk, miserly even with his friends—who made increasing economic aid to the Third World a top priority? "I put not only my life's work, but my reputation and everything else, on the line in favor of this," he told one recalcitrant senator. As Burton Kaufman notes, for good or ill, his successors "merely built on the legacies that Eisenhower left them." Ambrose, Eisenhower, 16, 376–81; Kaufman, Trade and Aid, 14, 103–12, 208. Regarding the foreign policy concerns that influenced administration policy on civil rights, see Lauren, Power and Prejudice, 219–20, 244–46. On the other hand, under Eisenhower, as many as a million Mexicans were deported during "Operation Wetback." Juan Ramon García, Operation Wetback: The Mass Deportation of Mexican Undocumented Workers in 1954 (Westport, Conn., 1980), chaps. 6–9.
¹²⁶ Cooper and Packard's collection provides a model. "It is not hard to deconstruct the modes of discursive power," they note. "It is much harder to discover how discourse operates within institutions." Contributors agreed that, for all the critiques of development, little is known about how NGOs, the World Bank, and the like actually work. "Introduction," International Development and the Social Sciences, 28.
¹²⁷ Memcon Dulles-de Gaulle, et al., July 5, 1958, USNA, RG 59, Central Decimal Files, 611.51. That Dulles had some success in concealing his role in the end of the European empires and the concomitant expansion of American power is indicated by his total absence from recent postcolonial studies of U.S. foreign relations; see Amy Kaplan and Donald E. Pease, eds., Cultures of United States Imperialism (Durham, N.C., 1993); and Gilbert M. Joseph, Catherine C. LeGrand, and Ricardo D. Salvatore, eds., Close Encounters of Empire: Writing the Cultural History of U.S.-Latin American Relations (Durham, 1998).
¹²⁸ Debaghine to the Provisional Government of the Algerian Republic (hereafter, GPRA), October 27, 1959, Centre National des Archives Algériennes, Algiers, Le Fond du GPRA, Ministère des Affaires Etrangères, dossier 5.3; Debaghine report to the GPRA, November 17, 1959, Mohammed Harbi, ed., Les Archives de la révolution algérienne (Paris, 1981), 272–74.
¹²⁹ Walmsley to Herter, January 30, 1960, USNA, RG 59, Central Decimal Files, 751S.00. Westerners were particularly susceptible to this fear at a time when Belgian settlers were being raped and killed in the Congo.
¹³⁰ L'année politique, 1960 (Paris, 1961), 284.
¹³¹ Raoul Duval to Couve, November 17, 1960, MAE, Asie-Oceanie 1956–1967, Chine, dossier 523.
¹³² L'année politique, 1956 (Paris, 1957), 207.
¹³³ Ranajit Guha, "The Prose of Counter-Insurgency," Subaltern Studies II (New York, 1983), 2–3.
¹³⁴ For a particularly striking example, see Robert D. Kaplan, "The Coming Anarchy," Atlantic Monthly (February 1994): 44–76.
¹³⁵ Anne McClintock, "The Angel of Progress: Pitfalls of the Term 'Post-colonialism,'" Social Text 31/32 (1992): 86–88. In what is otherwise a spirited defense of post-colonial studies against critics like McClintock, Ella Shohat, and Arif Dirlik, Hall acknowledges a "remarkable" neglect of political economy; "When Was 'The Post-Colonial'?" 257–58. For a review of the debate over defining "postcolonial," see Patrick Williams and Laura Chrisman's introduction to Colonial Discourse and Post-Colonial Theory: A Reader (New York, 1994), 1–20. The phrase "revolt against the West" is Geoffrey Barraclough's, An Introduction to Contemporary History (New York, 1964), 148.
¹³⁶ Fernando Coronil, "Beyond Occidentalism: Toward Nonimperial Geohistorical Categories," Cultural Anthropology 11 (February 1996): 73.
¹³⁷ Quoted in Shafer, Deadly Paradigms, 100.
¹³⁸ Lester B. Pearson, Democracy in World Politics (Princeton, N.J., 1955), 82, cited in Samuel P. Huntington, The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order (New York, 1996), 39. Similarly, in 1959, the Danish ambassador to NATO argued that "western nations must get ready for the obvious coming period when Russia will be their ally against China and when racial ties will be more important than ideological differences." C. L. Sulzberger, The Last of the Giants (New York, 1970), 554.
¹³⁹ Charles de Gaulle, Discours et messages: Avec le renouveau, Mai 1958–Juillet 1962 (Paris, 1970), 130.
¹⁴⁰ Quoted in Walter LaFeber, America, Russia, and the Cold War, 1945–1992 (New York, 1993), 232. In 1963, Kennedy actually sounded out the Soviets on the possibility of acting jointly to prevent China from developing nuclear weapons; Vladislav M. Zubok, "'Look What Chaos in the Beautiful Socialist Camp!' Deng Xiaoping and the Sino-Soviet Split, 1956–1963," Cold War International History Project Bulletin 10 (March 1998): 159.
¹⁴¹ See, for instance, Huntington's lurid scenario of a civilizational war circa 2010, Clash of Civilizations, 307, 316.
¹⁴² Said, Orientalism, 54–55; and see also Martin W. Lewis and Kären E. Wigen, The Myth of Continents: A Critique of Metageography (Berkeley, Calif., 1997).

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