Americans have long considered themselves a people set apart, but American exceptionalism is built on a set of tacit beliefs about other cultures. From the founding exclusion of indigenous peoples and enslaved Africans to the uneasy welcome of waves of immigrants, from republican disavowals of colonialism to Cold War proclamations of freedom, Americans' ideas of their differences from others have shaped the modern world-and how Americans have viewed foreigners is deeply revealing of their assumptions about themselves. Just Like Us is a pathbreaking exploration of what foreignness has meant across American history. Thomas Borstelmann traces American ambivalence about non-Americans, identifying a paradoxical perception of foreigners as suspiciously different yet fundamentally sharing American values beneath the layers of culture. Considering race and religion, notions of the American way of life, attitudes toward immigrants, competition with communism, Americans abroad, and the subversive power of American culture, he offers a surprisingly optimistic account of the acceptance of difference. Borstelmann contends that increasing contact with peoples around the globe during the Cold War encouraged mainstream society to grow steadily more inclusive. In a time of resurgent nativism and xenophobia, Just Like Us provides a reflective, urgent examination of how Americans have conceived of foreignness and their own exceptionalism throughout the nation's history.

From the vantage point of the United States or Western Europe, the 1970s was a time of troubles: economic "stagflation," political scandal, and global turmoil. Yet from an international perspective it was a seminal decade, one that brought the reintegration of the world after the great divisions of the mid-twentieth century. It was the 1970s that introduced the world to the phenomenon of "globalization," as networks of interdependence bound peoples and societies in new and original ways.

The 1970s saw the breakdown of the postwar economic order and the advent of floating currencies and free capital movements. Non-state actors rose to prominence while the authority of the superpowers diminished. Transnational issues such as environmental protection, population control, and human rights attracted unprecedented attention. The decade transformed international politics, ending the era of bipolarity and launching two great revolutions that would have repercussions in the twenty-first century: the Iranian theocratic revolution and the Chinese market revolution.

"The Shock of the Global" examines the large-scale structural upheaval of the 1970s by transcending the standard frameworks of national borders and superpower relations. It reveals for the first time an international system in the throes of enduring transformations.

"The 1970s" looks at an iconic decade when the cultural left and economic right came to the fore in American society and the world at large. While many have seen the 1970s as simply a period of failures epitomized by Watergate, inflation, the oil crisis, global unrest, and disillusionment with military efforts in Vietnam, Thomas Borstelmann creates a new framework for understanding the period and its legacy. He demonstrates how the 1970s increased social inclusiveness and, at the same time, encouraged commitments to the free market and wariness of government. As a result, American culture and much of the rest of the world became more--and less--equal.

Borstelmann explores how the 1970s forged the contours of contemporary America. Military, political, and economic crises undercut citizens' confidence in government. Free market enthusiasm led to lower taxes, a volunteer army, individual 401(k) retirement plans, free agency in sports, deregulated airlines, and expansions in gambling and pornography. At the same time, the movement for civil rights grew, promoting changes for women, gays, immigrants, and the disabled. And developments were not limited to the United States. Many countries gave up colonial and racial hierarchies to develop a new formal commitment to human rights, while economic deregulation spread to other parts of the world, from Chile and the United Kingdom to China.

Placing a tempestuous political culture within a global perspective, "The 1970s" shows that the decade wrought irrevocable transformations upon American society and the broader world that continue to resonate today.

After World War II the United States faced two preeminent challenges: how to administer its responsibilities abroad as the world's strongest power, and how to manage the rising movement at home for racial justice and civil rights. The effort to contain the growing influence of the Soviet Union resulted in the Cold War, a conflict that emphasized the American commitment to freedom. The absence of that freedom for nonwhite American citizens confronted the nation's leaders with an embarrassing contradiction.

Racial discrimination after 1945 was a foreign as well as a domestic problem. World War II opened the door to both the U.S. civil rights movement and the struggle of Asians and Africans abroad for independence from colonial rule. America's closest allies against the Soviet Union, however, were colonial powers whose interests had to be balanced against those of the emerging independent Third World in a multiracial, anticommunist alliance. At the same time, U.S. racial reform was essential to preserve the domestic consensus needed to sustain the Cold War struggle.

"The Cold War and the Color Line" is the first comprehensive examination of how the Cold War intersected with the final destruction of global white supremacy. Thomas Borstelmann pays close attention to the two Souths--Southern Africa and the American South--as the primary sites of white authority's last stand. He reveals America's efforts to contain the racial polarization that threatened to unravel the anticommunist western alliance. In so doing, he recasts the history of American race relations in its true international context, one that is meaningful and relevant for our own era of globalization.

In 1948, civil rights for black Americans stood higher on the national political agenda than at any time since Reconstruction. President Harry Truman issued orders for fair employment and the integration of the armed forces, and he proceeded to campaign on a platform that included an unprecedented civil rights plank, pushed through the Democratic convention by Hubert Humphrey. But on the other side of the globe, his administration paid close attention to another election as well: the surprising triumph of the white-supremacist National Party in South Africa, reluctantly accepted by the Truman White House.
Apartheid's Reluctant Uncle brings to light the neglected history of Washington's strong (but hushed) backing for the National Party government after it won power in 1948, and its formal establishment of apartheid. Thomas Borstelmann's account weaves together the complex threads of early Cold War tensions, African and domestic American politics, and nuclear diplomacy to show how--and why--the United States government aided and abetted the evangelically racist regime in Pretoria. Despite the rhetoric of the "free world," and the lingering idealism following the defeat of Nazi Germany and the founding of the U.N., Truman's foreign policy was focused on limiting Soviet expansion at all costs. Tensions between the two former allies mounted in Europe, the Middle East, and Asia, with the Berlin crisis, the Greek civil war, and the impending victory of the Communists in China. In southern Africa, the United States sought to limit Soviet and left-wing influence by supporting the colonial powers (Belgium, Portugal, and of course Britain) and the fiercely anticommunist National Party, led by Daniel Malan. Despite the unsavory racism of Malan's government--Borstelmann shows that Pretoria fomented violence among black groups in the late 1940s, just as it has done recently between the ANC and Inkatha--the U.S. saw South Africa as a dependable and important ally. In addition, America was almost completely dependent on southern Africa for its uranium supply, and was willing to go to great lengths to secure the critical fuel for its nuclear arsenal. Borstelmann also notes that race relations in the segregated U.S. played a role in Washington's policies, with few white Americans greatly disturbed by the establishment of apartheid.
As South Africa finally nears an end to almost fifty years of formal apartheid (and as Truman nears canonization, following the recent presidential election), Borstelmann's account comes as a startling reminder of America's early links to Pretoria's racist system. Intensively researched in the files of the Truman Library, the National Security Council, and the departments of Defense and State, Apartheid's Reluctant Uncle provides fascinating insight into a most revealing episode in American policymaking.