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THE FOLLOWING ARTICLES PRESENT important new perspectives on the Little Rock school desegregation crisis. When Arkansas governor Orval E. Faubus, in the name of preserving order, directed the Arkansas National Guard to prevent nine black young people from entering Little Rock Central High School on September 2, 1957, he precipitated a constitutional crisis. Blocking a federal court order upholding the Little Rock School Board's attempted compliance with the U.S. Supreme Court's decisions of 1954 and 1955 in Brown v. Board of Education, Faubus placed the governor's police powers at odds with city authorities, President Dwight D. Eisenhower, and the Supreme Court itself. Yet the constitutional issues engendered by Faubus's actions remained abstract to most people except for legal experts. At the time and ever since, it was the practical consequences that garnered public attention: the consequences for the school board's good-faith effort to implement the token desegregation of a single city school in the face of growing hostility on the part of the white community, for Faubus's purported political ambitions, for the Eisenhower administration's inconsistent stance on the Brown decision even as it wrestled with a Cold War propaganda battle over the same issue, for the authority of the Supreme Court as it confronted mounting opposition from southern segregationists and their northern conservative sympathizers, and, above all, for the courageous Little Rock Nine, bearing the painful assaults of racial animosity. The three essays that follow suggest how the litigation culminating in Cooper v. Aaron shaped these consequences and their ramifications for decades to come. The Cooper v. Aaron litigation went through several stages. The Supreme Court's Brown decision of 1954, holding that racially segregated public schools were inherently unequal and therefore violated the Fourteenth Amendment's equal protection clause, precipitated the Little Rock School Board's efforts to comply. Shortly before the Court handed down the 1955 Brown II order, which required desegregation plans to proceed "with all deliberate speed" but left their formulation to community school boards-subject to local federal court oversight-Little Rock school officials published a plan that opened only Little Rock Central High to token desegregation, maintained racial segregation at all other schools, and left unstated when those schools might be desegregated. Once the limited scope of desegregation became apparent, the Little Rock branch of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) rethought its earlier trust in the school board's good faith effort, and, in the name of black parents and children, initiated suit in 1956. Styled Aaron v. Cooper, the case was tried and decided during August 1956. The black litigants lost at trial and upon appeal in April 1957. As the summer unfolded and the nine black students prepared to enter Central, Faubus and city school officials confronted mounting hostility from segregationists. Meanwhile, the federal government declined to become involved. After various public and secret maneuvers, Faubus implemented a strategy defying the federal court's desegregation order. The ensuing three-week crisis culminated in Eisenhower's dispatch of the 101st Airborne to Little Rock, which ended the violence and enforced the court order. Inside Central High, the Little Rock Nine-Minnijean Brown, Elizabeth Eckford, Ernest Green, Thelma Mothershed, Melba Pattillo, Gloria Ray, Terrence Roberts, Jefferson Thomas, and Carlotta Walls-endured continuous harassment. School officials responded by asking the federal court for a two-and-a-half-year delay in implementation of the desegregation decree. Although the local federal court awarded the delay, the NAACP appealed. The U.S. circuit court, sustained by the U.S. Supreme Court, upheld the NAACP's argument that Little Rock's desegregation plan had to continue to be enforced. …

IN JUNE 2004, the member states of the European Union con cluded the negotiation of a treaty that, if ratified, would establish a European constitution that would make substantive changes to the way the union works. For the first time, an individual would be appointed president of the European Council, overseeing the regular summits of the heads of government of the EU nations and their foreign ministers. The EU would itself have a foreign minister. The amended rules on majority voting would allow a measure to pass if 55 percent of the member states were in favor, so long as they represented 65 percent of the EU'S population. And the EU would gain new powers in justice and home affairs, requiring co operation among interior minlstries on immigration, asylum, crime, and justice. The governments of all 25 countries have signed the treaty, but it cannot take effect unless ratified by each member state, through parliamentary vote or referendum. Ten EU countries have chosen to hold referendums. In February, the Spanish voted 77 percent in favor. A similar margin of victory is expected in Portugal and Luxembourg. Approval is less certain in the forthcoming French, Dutch, Polish, Danish, Irish, and Czech referendums, although opinion polls point to a positive result in all those countries. Only in the United Kingdom do the polls suggest that a majority will vote no. But that vote alone would throw the EU into a constitutional crisis.

As men and women with an abiding commitment to public service, the participants in this symposium will surely be forgiven if they occasionally yield to the temptation to paraphrase Charles Dickens by saying: "It is the worst of times; it is the worst of times." But even the worst of times has something to offer those blessed with a sanguine temperament. Banished to the fringe of events, we need not pass our days languishing in irrelevance. Instead, we should make use of our present unhappy condition to reflect upon how we might do better when public service once again enjoys popular support -- as it surely will some day. I believe serious reflection along these lines is already underway and has been for some time. I take the salience of the word governance in our recent literature as a sign of repentance for past transgressions and firm purpose to mend our ways. The transgression was our failure in happier times to link administration to governing, preferring instead to see it as some sort of neutral technique or even as a science. The marked tendency today to criticize the new-found enthusiasm for "management" for neglecting the rule of law should be seen not as a rejection of management, but as a constructive effort to tame its excesses by grounding it in the well-established norms of governing a constitutional republic. The salience of governance in our field has spawned a renewed interest in constitutionalism. Indeed, a symposium in Public Administration Review just three years ago identified a school of constitutional thought within the public administration community. The purpose of this article is to contribute to this growing interest in constitutionalism by adding a comparative dimension. Comparativists in the field of political science are fond of quoting a line from Kipling -- "what knows he of England who only England knows?" -- to make the point that one can learn much about one's own country by studying another one. Comparative studies stimulate the political imagination. They prepare us to think creatively about how we might integrate administrative institutions into traditional constitutional structures and how these structures themselves might be adapted to suit the times that lie ahead. My choice of Canadian federalism as a topic of inquiry needs a word of explanation in view of the seemingly endless string of constitutional crises that have bedeviled that otherwise pleasant land over the past three decades. I focus upon Canada for two reasons: 1. Frequent comments have been made by both Quebec sovereigntists and Ottawa federalists on the need to find administrative solutions to the Canadian constitutional crisis. Here is a bold claim that students of public administration would ignore at their peril. Since the referendum of October 1995, there has been precious little progress -- administrative or otherwise -- toward accommodating Quebec's demands within the present constitutional order, but the mere fact that serious people would even talk about administration doing the deeds of high statesmanship challenges the crabbed American view on the possibilities of administrative activity. In Canada, constitutional debates over the very survival of the regime evoke detailed discussions of such classic administrative themes as environmental management, immigration policy, public finance, civil service pensions, education, manpower and training, unemployment benefits, and control of natural resources. I hope that my article will provide a helpful, albeit rather sketchy, constitutional background for American administrationists who take the trouble to follow the dramatic events unfolding among our neighbors to the north. 2. There is a current American rediscovery of the Tenth Amendment, which promises a pronounced redistribution of authority away from Washington and to the states. There can be little doubt that we are about to enjoy (or, alas, endure) still another round of "new federalism," but this time all signs point to a more profound and more lasting reprise on this theme than Presidents Nixon and Reagan were able to deliver The political culture of Canada is sufficiently similar to our own to warrant the expectation that by studying its highly decentralized federalism, we can learn something of the advantages of decentralization while avoiding its excesses. …

This paper examines the assignment of functions over natural resources and environment between the federal and provincial governments using the Breton-Scott (1978) approach to the optimal assignment of functions and, alternatively, studying the actual policy outcomes under the existing assignment of powers. On theoretical grounds, provincial control over natural resources is warranted as long as the external costs imposed on other jurisdictions are small, but the theoretical approach does not unequivocally assign powers to either the provinces or Ottawa. In practice, as illustrated by examples, natural resource policies are driven not by concern over social costs and benefits, but by political considerations that impose added costs on the economy.

America's northern neighbour faces a severe constitutional crisis. Unprecedented levels of public support for sovereignty in the predominantly French-speaking province of Quebec could lead to the breakup of Canada. This crisis was precipitated by two Canadian provinces' failure in 1990 to ratify the Meech Lake Accord, a package of revisions to Canada's constitution that addressed Quebec's grievances concerning its place within the Canadian federation. The current predicament is not an isolated incident - it is part of a recurring pattern of consitutional crises in Canada. The longer-term question is, can workable solutions be found to keep Canada intact, or is a sovereign Quebec inevitable sooner or later? This book, aimed at an international audience, examines the complex roots of Canada's constitutional discontent, the options currently being considered, and possible futures for "northern North America". Kent Weaver begins with an analysis of the interaction of Canadian social divisions and political institutions in managing political conflict, arguing that traditional institutional arrangements have been irreparably undermined by social change and that current institutions often exacerbate political divisions. Stephane Dion shows how two structural factors - Quebecers' fear of disappearing within an overwhelmingly English-speaking North America and increased confidence that Quebec can stand on its own - have combined with short-term catalystic factors, notably a feeling of rejection over the collapse of the Meech Lake Accord, to shape the ebb and flow of nationalist sentiment in Quebec in recent years. Andrew Stark argues that notions of citizenship and the state associated with important philosophical currents in English Canada, create severe problems for attempts to reach an accommodation with Quebec. Keith Banting examines scenarios for Canada's future with and without a politically sovereign Quebec and the implications of these scenarios for the United States.

In 1832 a long-standing boundary dispute between New York and New Jersey complicated the work of Chief Justice John Marshall and President Andrew Jackson. Long reviled by southern states' rights advocates, including the president, Marshall in 1832 faced the prospect of having the Court's decisions ignored by the state of Georgia. Federal authority was further challenged in the fall of 1832, when South Carolina nullified the tariff of 1828, thereby provoking a constitutional crisis. On December 10, 1832, to the amazement of many observers, Jackson issued a proclamation rejecting nullification and secession, and threatening military action if South Carolina did not change its course.

It is sensible to review these three papers together in this period of constitutional crisis following the collapse of the Meech Lake Accord. The three authors were all strong supporters of the Accord. Each attempts to examine the substance and process of the Accord or the intergovernmental policy environment surrounding its negotiation in order to draw lessons from its failure for the current post-Meech constitutional round. Each views the current situation as ex

In January 1991, our nation narrowly avoided a constitutional crisis, as President Bush requested and Congress passed a joint resolution that authorized the use of military force against Iraq.1 In the weeks preceding that vote, the nation had witnessed a now-familiar dance: The President had threatened to make war without seeking congressional consent, Congress had avoided taking a stand, and the courts had declined to enjoin an unauthorized war.2 In ways not fully appreciated by the public, Judge Harold Greene's decision in Dellums v. Bush 3 helped break the looming impasse between the political branches. Although Judge Greene held unripe a request by members of Congress to enjoin an unauthorized war, he accepted two

Japanese constitutional theory is built on the proposition that pacifism, popular sovereignty, and the guarantee of fundamental human rights are the foundations of the Constitution. This article shows that these principles lie at the heart of an understanding of both the Japanese Constitution and Japan's democracy. For four decades, Japan has witnessed no constitutional crisis; that is, no political, governmental, or social issue has appeared that has either threatened the constitutional order or revealed a serious defect in it. The

"Constitutional government," Glenn Schram affirms, "in the sense of government effectively limited by preestablished rules. . is something of immense value"; and he quotes Charles McIlwain's "constitutionalism ... is a legal limitation on government."1 But he shrinks from testing judicial "activism" by those limitations, stating, "Nor is the cause of constitutionalism helped by Berger, who comes very close to charging the United States Supreme Court with usurpation for not adhering to what ... he considers to have been the intent of the majority of the authors of the Fourteenth Amendment," thereby "detract[ing] from the legitimacy of the Court.'"2 If, however, the Court has assumed power withheld, constitutionalism can only be advanced by demonstrating the "usurpation." With Philip Kurland, I consider that "the most immediate constitutional crisis of our present time [is] the usurpation by the judiciary of general governmental powers on the pretext that its authority derives from the Fourteenth Amendment."3 That is the thesis of my Government by Judiciary: The Transformation of the Fourteenth Amendment. Schram' s reference to what Berger "considers to have been the intent of the majority" of the framers does scant justice to the proof, which even my critics acknowledge stands solidly. So Nathaniel Nathanson wrote that Alexander Bickel "conclusively demonstrated" that the framers understood that the amendment "would not require school desegregation," that Justice Harlan II "quite convincingly demonstrated" the same with respect to suffrage, and that "Berger' s independent research and analysis confirms and adds weight to these conclusions.'"4 One who fastidiously opens a critique with charges that an author misspells "the names of at least four authors""5 does himself little credit by representing as Berger "considers" what a noted British political scientist