The Terrorist Attacks In New York And Washington Dc On 11 September 2001, and the killing of thousands of people were not sufficient to dispel a mood of suspicion in European public opinion towards America. Of course, during the very first days after the attack, there was widespread grief and sorrow about the event among Europeans. But, as soon as discussion on the right strategy to pursu to combat terrorism began, the initial mood of identification with America started to change. And when America, although backed by a large international coalition and legitimated by two UN resolutions, moved towards an armed intervention in Afghanistan, European anti-Americanism emerged again. Thus, during the armed intervention in Afghanistan, especially when the bombing led to the death of innocent victims, a social mobilization against the American war grew day after day, with its critics apparently losing sight of the fact that a dramatic terrorist attack on America had recently taken place.

The interesting question is why does anti-Americanism re-emerge regularly in large sections of European public opinion? This intermittent Anti-Americanism appears more in southern and continental Europe, than in the northern British Isles and Scandinavia, where it is outdone by a more vociferous anti-Europeanism. In the latter countries, anti-Americanism takes the form of uneasiness with the United States. In fact, in spite of Britain's traditional special relationship with the United States, the fact cannot be denied that post-war British elites grudgingly accept their inferior status in that special relationship. But, of course, frustration with America is not the same as anger towards America. In any case, in (continental) Europe, anti- Americanism seems to be one of the few public philosophies that can unite large sections of the left, the right and the Catholic Church. It is a public philosophy which emerges especially in periods of war (and of international crisis in general).

Economists Say There Is No Such Thing As A Free Lunch. The burgeoning ‘risk industry’ – no doubt set for further expansion after the terrorist attacks on US heartlands in 2001 – says there is no such thing as a risk-free lunch. Anthropologists say there is no such thing as a blame-free risk. And political scientists know blame is central to politics.

The growth of the ‘risk industry’, the associated explosion in discussion of safety and hazard issues and the search for better ways of assessing and managing risk, has been much commented on. The BSE issue, highlighted in the UK by the blockbuster sixteen-volume Phillips report in 2000, is taken by Ulrich Beck as emblematic of what he claims to be a ‘risk society’. Michael Power says an age of ‘new risk management’ has dawned in corporate governance, sparked by high-profile business failures and accidents. Much academic and media attention has been paid to risks from food, electric power lines, mobile phones, dangerous people, even dangerous dogs (ostensibly a rather traditional risk, but one that in recent years has been the subject of draconian new regulatory regimes in several countries, including France, Spain and Germany). Such developments in the ‘risk game’ have been described by best-selling sociologists like Beck and Giddens (who make much of their world-historical significance in an era of ‘high modernity’) and by social psychologists interested in what shapes risk perception or ‘amplification’.

The Election For Japan'S House Of Councillors Took Place On 29 July 2001. The result was a resounding victory for the major governing party, the Liberal Democratic Party, with its majority regained after the failure in the previous election in 1998. The election was very interesting in two senses. First, the deepening difficulty of the economy did not prevent the LDP from making a comeback of sorts. Normally, the Japanese voters, like most others, reward the governing party when the economy goes well. Secondly, its newly chosen maverick President, Junichiro Koizumi, successfully adopted a rhetoric of ‘Reform with Pain’ for the ostensible reason of escaping Japan's dilemma: the impossibility of allowing many business firms and banks to go bankrupt without thereby aggravating economic problems and antagonizing the electorate; its inability to drastically reduce the large number of public corporations with large registered deficits; and its inability to drastically reduce huge accumulated deficits. He came, he saw and he won. ‘How?’ is the question that the rest of this article attempts to answer.

The article is divided into three parts. In the first part I review and compare the two leading sociological theories on intellectuals, those of Z. Bauman and A. Gramsci whose concepts are later critically examined to form the basis of my argument. The second part of the article draws on Gramsci's typology of organic and traditional intelligentsia and Bauman's distinction between interpreters and legislators in order to identify and assess the profile of the Yugoslav and post-Yugoslav intelligentsia. Here I argue that Yugoslavia lacked the category of traditional intellectuals (be they legislators or interpreters) and that the dominant type of Yugoslav intellectual was an ‘organic’ legislator. As a result, the post-Yugoslav states are also characterized by the lack of a traditional intelligentsia and thus in the early post-communist period only the former organic legislators have become ‘organicistic’ interpreters. The final part of the paper summarizes the findings and looks at their implications relating to Bauman's and Gramsci's concepts.

With The Inauguration Of The Socialist President, Ricardo Lagos, in March 2000 it would appear that the Chilean party system had come full circle since the 1973 coup that unseated the last Socialist President, Salvador Allende. Despite the Chilean military's efforts to eradicate the left during its almost seventeen years in power, a Socialist assumed the presidency only a dozen years after the electoral defeat of the military regime in 1988. In one sense, this success is a testament to the perseverance of the party of Allende, and the party system in general. Nonetheless, the Socialist Party, and indeed the Chilean party system, are quite distinct from the ethos of the Allende years of the early 1970s. At the same time, it is undeniable that there are striking continuities in terms of the number of political parties and patterns of partisan competition. Thus, how should one interpret the extent of transformation and continuity in the Chilean party system?

In An Essay Written In The Mid-1980S Trevor Taylor Concluded that ‘. . . international relations scholars show little sign of seriously considering the place of sport in global human affairs’ and prescribed that ‘international relations should take more account of sport . . .’ We might have expected some change in the period since then, not least because the academic study of sport has established itself in such fields as politics and law and has made further advances in sociology and social history. The ‘myth of autonomy’ which suggested that sport should and did have little effect on other human activities has been largely undermined; indeed, we might argue that in some cases there has been an overreaction against it. Modern sport is increasingly and perhaps essentially international and has had an international dimension almost from the outset. It has developed highly autonomous international organizations, most notably the International Olympic Committee and FIFA, the international (association) football federation.