Immigration has been a source of controversy in American politics since the first part of the nineteenth century. Throughout, critics of immigration have argued that mass immigration would 'flood' the country with people who were culturally alien and/or would fail to contribute economically. Hence, the Irish, Southern and Eastern European, Jews, East Asians (Chinese and Japanese) and, most recently, South East Asians and, in particular, Hispanics from Central and South America have successively been the target of anti-immigrant sentiment.

Originally, opposition came from 'nativist' Americans, or those who believed that the 'purity' of the Northern European Protestant stock would be corrupted by the new arrivals. Indeed, the 1924 Immigration Act was specifically designed to favour North West Europeans (see p. 00). In the event, the Southern and Eastern Europeans against whom the law was directed became fully assimilated into American society. Today the debate is argued on what at first look like different grounds, although racist nativist sentiment persists in places. There are three main dimensions to the current debate. First, opponents of immigration argue that many Hispanics, and especially immigrants of Mexican origin, hold a greater allegiance to the mother country than to the USA. Unlike earlier waves of immigrants, they maintain their linguistic and cultural identity across generations. Second, illegal immigration is widespread across poorly policed borders. Third, they argue that during difficult economic times, the new immigrants -- and especially their children -- constitute a strain on hard pressed welfare and social services.

While illegal immigration is a serious problem -- although hardly a new one -- the other criticisms have little foundation in fact. We simply do not know how the Mexican American community will develop over time. Precisely the same criticisms were directed at Italian, Jewish and Polish communities at the beginning of the twentieth century. As for constituting an economic burden on social services, in the longer run the opposite is likely, for immigrants play a large part in bringing down the average age of the American population. As such they or their progeny may be the very people who will pay the taxes to finance the pensions and medical care of older, longer established Americans.

None the less, anti-immigrant sentiment is on the rise, as a number of statewide initiatives and immigration control bills in Congress testify.

The proper balance between federal and state power has shifted dramatically through American history, and during two periods the issue dominated American political discourse. This was true in the fifty years up to the outbreak of the Civil War, when the most important domestic issues were the creation of a national bank, the tariff (to what extent American goods should be protected against foreign competition) and slavery. The Southern states opposed the tariff and supported slavery, and considered federal interference in these areas unconstitutional. From 1933 to the 1950s public sentiment shifted dramatically towards the federal government, which was seen as the only possible salvation from the ravages of economic depression. States, on the other hand, were regarded as conservative and corrupt. It was during this period that most Americans accepted the need for federal action in welfare, social security, labour relations and support for industry and agriculture. Federal rather than state action was also deemed necessary to regulate banks, the stock market and mortgage credit.

More recent years have seen a resurgence of state in relation to federal power, with supporters of the states arguing that the states are the proper level of government for deciding a range of policy issues including penal and criminal procedural questions, abortion, employment practices and welfare. Indeed, the 1996 welfare reforms which devolved most welfare provision to the states (see chapter 14, pp. 000--0) were in part based on the experience of such states as Wisconsin and Minnesota. Generally, Republican administrations and the Supreme Court have favoured state over federal power, although the Democrats have also moved considerably from their historical pro-federal position.

In the twentieth century the federal versus state power debate was conflated with debate on the proper size and scope of government in society. Those favouring the states are usually also critics of government generally. Conversely, supporters of federal power also argue for a general extension of the role of government. This is not always so, however. The regulation of the market, for example, has required even conservative federal administrations to weaken state controls on banks and other financial institutions in favour of more liberal federal regulations. The same is broadly true of the regulation of monopolies. It is the federal government that proposes the break-up of Microsoft. This example demonstrates nicely the complexity of this question. Twenty-first century Americans may distrust federal power, but they still need it not only to regulate the economy, but also during periods of serious economic dislocation and when natural disasters strike. Few would argue against emergency federal aid in such situations. On the contrary, the public -- and state governments -- are usually unhappy because the aid is inadequate. And such demands are made even when the same people bemoan what they see as the overweaning power of the federal government.

According to rational choice theory -- the school of social behaviour arguing that all an individual's political actions are motivated by self-interest -- rational citizens rarely have an incentive to vote. In other words, the costs of voting, including actually registering and travelling to the polling station, are usually greater than the benefits -- the chance that an individual vote will make a difference to the outcome. In the vast majority of cases the individual vote makes not the slightest difference. (The major exceptions are elections with very small electorates; for example, committee or small town meetings.) Indeed, most of us know perfectly well when we go to the polling booth that our one vote will not, on its own, count. Instead we reason collectively rather than individually and assume that the total of votes for a particular candidate is what matters. It could be argued that in the United States, where turnout is low and getting lower, a more individualistic political culture has deterred 'rational' citizens from voting. Moreover, American political parties are made up of broad coalitions of interests rather than particular groups and interests. It is therefore more difficult for citizens to make a close identity between their own interests and those of a party. Compare this with Northern Ireland, for example, where it would be almost inconceivable for a Protestant to vote for Sinn Fein or for a Catholic to vote Unionist. Perhaps not surprisingly, turnout in Northern Ireland is high.

This analysis implies that, by some measures and notably voter rationality, it does not matter that election turnout is low in the United States. However, there is a further dimension to US turnout, which is simply the fact that, as in all other countries, low turnout is closely correlated with social class. Low-income Americans vote the least; higher-income better-educated Americans vote the most. Moreover, unlike in some other countries, non-voters often permanently exclude themselves from participation in the electoral process and fail to vote throughout their lifetimes. This phenomenon has led some commentators to conclude that political alienation among the disadvantaged is greater in the USA than elsewhere. The fact that so many poor and disadvantaged people do not vote also helps to skew the electoral agenda towards the middle class and the rich. As a result, the claim is that political parties are reluctant to pursue redistributive policies in such areas as taxation, health and education for fear of offending the majority of middle-class voters.

This sociological analysis is partly contradicted by the technical reasons for not voting such as registration laws (see p. 000). Whatever the causes and consequences of non-voting in the USA, deep concern at the low levels of turnout remain. Most observers agree that when citizens fail to participate in the democratic process, the system can lack legitimacy. This in turn can have serious longer-term consequences for the constitutional order.

Until 1968 divided government (DG) was very much the exception in the USA. Indeed, in the twentieth century there were only 12 years of DG down to 1968. However, after 1968 unified government prevailed for just six years (1977--81 and 1993--5; although from 1981 to 1987 the Republicans controlled the presidency and the Senate but not the House). Scholarship in this area usually distinguishes between the causes and the consequences of DG. As far as the causes are concerned most attention has been paid to whether DG is purposeful or structural. It could be that voters choose DG (or decide it on purpose). The usual reasoning here is that voters deliberately want to balance presidency and Congress. They may, for example, choose a Republican president because they are traditionally stronger foreign policy leaders, but a Democratic Congress because the Democrats will typically be more generous with constituency benefits than the Republicans. More recently, voters may have chosen a Republican Congress to keep taxes low and eliminate the budget deficit, but opted for a Democratic president who was more liberal on the 'social' issues (health care, abortion, gun control and education). Other scholars have argued that DG is structural or unintended. Much of this work attempted to explain what until 1994 appeared to be the Democrats' permanent residency in the House of Representatives. In particular, they argued that incumbency in itself provided a range of advantages, such as familiarity, ability to raise money and a record of having delivered benefits (the pork barrel) to the constituents.

However, the election of a Republican Congress in 1994 and again in 1996 and 1998 strongly suggested that incumbency was not all that advantageous. In fact it may well be that the voters are choosing DG. Of course, this entire debate matters hardly at all if the consequences of DG are benign. Many believe that they are not. On the contrary, they argue that having Congress and the presidency controlled by different parties leads to 'gridlock' -- inter-branch conflicts lead to a seizing up of the policy-making process -- and also to an adversarial and vindictive politics of the sort that inspired the impeachment of Bill Clinton. While there seems to be some truth to these charges, DG may also have the result of limiting the size and scope of government, and this seems particularly true when the Republicans control Congress. Commentators point to the balanced budget as evidence of the merits of DG. Whatever the case, DG is unlikely to go away. An increasingly fickle electorate, the finely balanced distribution of party seats in Congress and the increasingly competitive nature of presidential elections will ensure this.

The most enduring debate over the role of the Supreme Court is whether it should play an active political role or be deferential to the elected branches. For most of the Court's history it has been passive rather than active. In part this reflects the fact that courts rely on the legitimacy of their decisions in order to ensure compliance. They have no bureaucracy or police force of their own. For enforcement they rely on the other branches and in particular on the executive. In the worst case scenario, the courts may be ignored or effectively overruled by the dominant political forces. Just this happened just before the outbreak of the Civil War, when the Lincoln administration in effect ignored the 1857 Dred Scott decision on the status of African Americans in the Northern and Western territories (see pp. 000--0). In the late 1930s, President Roosevelt did his best to by-pass conservative Supreme Court decisions with his court packing plan during the New Deal period (see pp. 000--0). And during the 1950s and 1960s a highly activist liberal court handed down decisions in the civil rights and liberties areas that were unacceptable to many southerners and conservatives. In the case of school desegregation, for example, the famous 1954 Brown v. Board decision was effectively ignored until Congress acted in 1964 with federal legislation outlawing de jure segregation (segregation sanctioned by law) (see pp. 000--0). Does this mean that it is unwise for the Court to become involved in the 'political thicket' and make controversial decisions? There are two reasons usually invoked to argue that the Court cannot and actually should not always be passive. First, and most important, is the fact that the Court is the guardian of the constitution. If the justices believe that an act of Congress or of a state or local government is unconstitutional then it has a duty to act and declare that law void. Usually the Justices argue cases with sufficient sophistication and sensitivity to the political consequences to ride out the public reaction. This was certainly the case with the civil rights decisions of the 1950s and 1960s. Of course, sensitivity and sophistication are never guaranteed, as the Dred Scott and New Deal cases showed. This is, in fact, the central dilemma for the whole system of judicial review: how do you ensure high quality and intellectual excellence on the part of the Justices? Unfortunately there are no such guarantees. Indeed, the present Court has been much criticized for intellectual incoherence and timidity in establishing broad constitutional principles to guide public policy in such areas as abortion and federalism.

The second reason why the Court becomes embroiled in the political thicket is that in today's highly litigious society it is simply inevitable that its decisions, no matter how qualified, will have political consequences. This is especially so given that many areas of modern life, such as the Internet and genetic engineering, have no historical precedents. Any decision, therefore, makes brand new law and is likely to be controversial.

Foreign observers of the US scene are constantly amazed at the passion with which many Americans defend their right to own firearms. Most opponents of gun control cite the Second Amendment to the Constitution in support of their position. The amendment reads: 'A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms, shall not be infringed.' In recent years the debate over gun control has intensified, not least because of the increasing evidence -- much of it publicized by the national media -- of the link between violence and the availability of firearms. Periodic assassinations and assassination attempts as well as mass shootings have added impetus to gun control advocates. Some of the first federal laws were introduced following the assassinations of the 1960s (Jack and Robert Kennedy, Martin Luther King) and further measures were taken in the wake of the attempt on Ronald Reagan's life in 1981. Hence, the so-called Brady Bill (named after James Brady the president's press secretary who was disabled in the attack) requires a waiting period and background check for gun purchases. More recently the 1994 Crime Control Bill banned a range of assault rifles.

Tighter controls, including safety locks on all hand guns and more stringent checks on purchasers, have so far foundered in Congress -- even when (as the tragic events at Columbine High School in Littleton, Colorado, in 1999 showed) access to deadly weapons remains easy. (Two teenage boys murdered 13 students and teachers and then shot themselves.)

Opponents of gun control and especially the lead interest group in this area, the National Rifle Association (NRA), insist that what is needed is not more control but public education. With such slogans as 'guns don't kill people, people do', they argue that to restrict access to guns would not only be unconstitutional but would be thin end of the wedge on the road to the removal of all liberty. Federal legislation is regarded as particularly pernicious because it represents the spread of 'big government' and the advance of a centralized state against individual freedom. The NRA is also opposed to state controls on gun sales (and some states such as Massachusetts have imposed quite Draconian restrictions), but knows that in many Southern, Mountain and Western states state legislators will continue to oppose restrictions.

Politically, the issue has taken on new salience in recent years as large numbers of voters -- and especially woman -- have become increasingly angry at the failure of government to protect the innocent against gun outrages. The position taken by the NRA and its president, conservative movie star Charlton Heston, is increasingly viewed as extremist. Even so, presidential candidates such as George Bush Jr still cannot afford to take a strong anti-gun stance. For among many Americans to right to own a gun remains an 'inalienable right'.

Since the Second World War, the United States has been a consistent proponent of free trade. During the successive rounds of tariff reductions required by the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) through to the creation of the World Trade Organization (WTO) the USA has always adopted an official pro-trade line. Until the 1970s the issue was essentially non-controversial. However, the dislocation caused by successive oil crises and an increasing perception that US industry was falling behind such competitors as Japan and Germany led to ever more urgent calls for protection for domestic producers. This movement reached a peak in the late 1970s and early 1980s, when controls were placed on the import of Japanese cars and other goods. Even so, the USA operated within the GATT rules and always retained an official pro-free trade line.

When recession hit during the early 1990s the anti free trade movement received fresh impetus, with such figures as Representative Richard Gephart (later to be Minority Leader in the House) and right-wing populist Pat Buchanan taking up the banner against open and free trade. Support for their positions came not only from workers in manufacturing industry, but also increasingly from farmers whose incomes were being hit by falling world prices and lower federal subsidies.

Supporters of free trade generally subscribe to the theory of comparative advantage. This holds that free trade is always beneficial because in any one country the market will sort out which producer is least bad at producing a particular product in relation to another. Hence, country A may produce coffee beans more efficiently than anything else even if country B is a more efficient coffee producer. The difference will be reflected in the lower price charged by country A. By this logic, it pays for country A to continue coffee production. So free trade tends to reduce prices and increase efficiency. American farmers have to tolerate lower world prices -- even if they are being driven down by less efficient producers. The answer is for American agriculture to become even more efficient through capital investment and the elimination of small, inefficient producers. This is precisely what has happened over the past 20 years. Tens of thousands of small farms have disappeared.

Another tactic is for American industry to 'outsource' components to poorer countries, such as Mexico, where the price of labour is low. In some cases it might even be worthwhile to shift production abroad completely. Again, American companies have employed both tactics over the past several decades. During the boom years of the late 1990s and early 2000s, the debate on free trade almost seemed an irrelevance -- the USA seemed to be doing quite well enough, thank you, notwithstanding the plight of small farmers. However, the issue is likely to become more rather than less relevant over the next several years, as the speed of economic change accelerates and workers in industries affected by foreign competition are forced to adapt to new circumstances.

America's relations with the rest of the world have always been imbued with a moral element. From the very beginning the USA regarded the European powers as autocratic, manipulative and corrupt. As a democratic and egalitarian society, America saw itself as free from the imperialism and territorial aggression typical of the old Continental powers. Some even considered that the USA had a 'manifest destiny' to 'civilize' the Americas and their indigenous peoples. In reality, however, this idealist veneer almost always concealed a realist core. Hence the Monroe Doctrine declared by President Monroe in 1823, which established the Western Hemisphere as an American sphere of interest, was designed to deter the European powers from venturing across the Atlantic.

Later, US isolationism came to mean a determination to keep out of European affairs, but did not extend to Latin America or the Pacific, where successive US administrations worked hard to defend American commercial interests and to place in power pro-USA governments. The incursion into European affairs represented by America's entry into the First World War was brought to an abrupt end when the Senate refused to ratify membership of the League of Nations. But the isolationists argued that the USA did not need to become embroiled in European wars. It could continue to prosper on its own. A similar sequence of events was almost repeated in 1945--7, when the American armies returned home and isolationists in the Senate became increasingly vocal. However, the emergence of the Cold War and the Soviet (and also Chinese) threat transformed the USA into a global player. Between 1947 and 1991 the American commitment to containing Communism was firm -- and this in spite of the humiliation in Vietnam and other setbacks. For when it came to the nuclear balance of power, the American position was completely consistent: the perception was that the country's very survival depended on strong and effective conventional and nuclear forces. Even with the demise of the Soviet Union, American strategy remained essentially the same: the USA must retain nuclear superiority against any actual or potential enemy. The main difference today is that conventional forces have been greatly reduced and those that remain should be used more as peace keeping than as assault and defence forces.

Judging by US involvements in Somalia, Bosnia and Kosovo, it might also appear that idealist values have triumphed over realist ones. It would, however, be much more accurate to say that the idealist core to US policy remains, but at the same time early twenty-first century global conditions do facilitate an idealist or humanitarian role -- especially given that there is no real competitor to the USA as a world power. Make no mistake, however, that should American interests be directly threatened as they were in the Gulf War, the USA will defend them with all its power.

This dual idealist and realist stance is a new and encouraging phenomenon. It is also broadly acceptable to the American people. Only when the costs in terms of lives and expense are deemed too high will public pressure deter US leaders from policing what has been called 'the new world order'. It is for these reasons that American interventions cease when the costs rise (witness Somalia) or do not occur at all because of serious political and logistical problems (witness Chechnya, equatorial Africa).