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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The last quarter of the twentieth century was marked by two dramatic political trends that altered many of the world's regimes: the global resurgence of democracy and the collapse of communism. Was the process that brought down communism in Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union fundamentally different from the process that gave birth to new democracies in other regions of the world? Were the transitions away from communism mostly like or mostly unlike the transitions away from authoritarianism that took place elsewhere? Is the challenge of building and consolidating democracy under postcommunist conditions unique, or can one apply lessons learned from other new democracies? The essays collected in this volume explore these questions, while tracing how the countries of Eastern Europe and the former Soviet Union have fared in the decade following the fall of communism.

Contributors: Anders Åslund, Carnegie Endowment for International Peace in Washington, D.C.; Leszek Balcerowicz, Warsaw School of Economics; Archie Brown, Oxford University and St. Antony's College; Zbigniew Brzezinski, Johns Hopkins University, a former U.S. national security advisor; Valerie Bunce, Cornell University; Nadia Diuk, National Endowment for Democracy in Washington, D.C.; M. Steven Fish, University of California-Berkeley; Charles H. Fairbanks Jr., the Johns Hopkins University; Bronislaw Geremek, former foreign minister of Poland; John Higley, University of Texas at Austin; Judith Kullberg, University of MichiganAnn Arbor; Mart Laar, prime minister of Estonia; Michael McFaul, Stanford University; Ghia Nodia, Tbilisi State University; Jan Pakulski, University of Tasmania in Australia; Richard Rose, University of Strathclyde in Glasgow; Jacques Rupnik, College of Europe in Bruges; Lilia Shevtsova, Carnegie Endowment for International Peace in Washington, D.C.; Aleksander Smolar, Stefan Batory Foundation in Warsaw and Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique in Paris; G.M. Tamás formerly of Georgetown University; Vladimir Tismaneanu, University of Maryland at College Park; Grigory Yavlinsky, member of the Russian State Duma (parliament).

Reynolds brings together the leading scholars to discuss the successes and failures of constitutional design. Arend Lijphart and Donald Horowitz debate their own contributions to the field. Emerging scholars then present important new evidence from Europe, the CIS, Latin America, and Africa. Chapters analyse the effect of presidential and parliamentary systems, issues of federalism and autonomy, and the varying impact of electoral systems. The book concludes with case studies of Fiji, Ireland, Eritrea, Indonesia, Nigeria, and India. The Architecture of Democracy is the culmination of the study of constitutional engineering in the third wave of democracy and sets parameters for this crucial research as democracy diffuses across the world.