International Organizations and the Cold War: Interview with Sandrine Kott
The Cold War is often remembered as a period defined by geopolitical rivalry and ideological division between the United States and the Soviet Union. Yet, beneath this surface of conflict, the postwar era was also marked by remarkable international cooperation. Through the United Nations, regional bodies, international NGOs, and private foundations, diverse actors from opposing blocs engaged in collaborative efforts that transcended the era’s deep political divides.
In A World More Equal: An Internationalist Perspective on the Cold War (Columbia University Press, 2024), historian Sandrine Kott revisits the Cold War from this perspective, shedding new light on the rise of internationalism as both an ideology and a practice. Drawing on extensive archival research, Kott highlights the role of midsized powers, including Eastern European and neutral states, and explores how international organizations became key sites for contesting global inequalities and advancing causes such as human rights and women’s rights.
I spoke with Sandrine Kott about the complexities of Cold War international cooperation, the Marshall Plan, New International Economic Order agenda, and what the focus on international organizations reveal about the Cold War era.
- Mirek Tobiáš Hošman (European University Institute)
MTH: Congratulations on A World More Equal. Your book opens with a bold idea – that rather than hindering internationalism, the Cold War, in fact, helped fuel it. Can you explain what you mean by that?
SK: Scholars like Akira Iriye have shown that the Cold War did not prevent the development of international movements—it actually helped catalyze them. During that period, we saw global campaigns for peace, human rights, the environment, even public health efforts like the campaign to eradicate smallpox. All of this reflects a remarkable vitality in international cooperation.
What I emphasize in the book is that internationalism was not happening on the margins of the Cold War, or in spite of it – it was profoundly shaped by it. Each of the Cold War’s main blocs – the West, the Soviet-led East, and later the Global South – promoted their own versions of internationalism. Each of these projects was grounded in universal values, ideas they believed should apply to all people, everywhere.
In a sense, these competing visions of how the world should be organized were locked in conflict, but they also shared a deep belief in the importance of international cooperation. That shared belief allowed them to work together, at least up until the 1970s, within institutions like the United Nations.
So, when I say the Cold War was an internationalist moment, I mean that the era produced not one, but several competing visions of global solidarity – visions that, for a time, coexisted and even cooperated through multilateral institutions. That dynamic is very different from what we see in the world today.
MTH: You have already touched on the idea of competing visions of internationalism during the Cold War. One particularly interesting part of your book looks at how international organizations became a platform for interaction between the so-called Second World – the communist-led countries of Eastern Europe – and the Third World. What were these interactions about? Why did they happen at the international level, and how did they evolve in the broader context of Cold War competition?
SK: That’s a great and quite complex question. There has been a lot of research on the connections between communist-led countries – not strictly “communist,” but governed by communist parties – and what was then called the Third World. Much of that interaction took place bilaterally or through mechanisms like COMECON. But in my book, I focus on what happened within international organizations, which offers a different perspective.
What I argue is that these interactions were often shaped – if not actively encouraged – by international civil servants and experts working within organizations like the UN. Their thinking was shaped by a developmentalist view: they saw Eastern Europe as an “underdeveloped Europe,” and believed that addressing its economic and social needs was crucial for maintaining peace and stability on the continent. In a sense, Eastern Europe was treated as a kind of first periphery of the Western world – a testing ground, or even a laboratory, for development strategies.
These civil servants used Eastern Europe as a model for broader global development programs. The logic was that if certain methods or policies worked in Eastern Europe – seen as culturally and politically closer to the West although economically lagging – they might also be applicable in the Third World. So international organizations became a space where Eastern and Southern countries could connect through shared frameworks of development.
But there’s more to it than just Cold War geopolitics. One of the key things I try to highlight in the book is that these connections also draw on much longer historical legacies. For example, old imperial ties – such as those from the Ottoman Empire – continued to shape relationships between elites in the Balkans and the Middle East. These are links that pre-date the Cold War and that are often overlooked if we focus only on ideological divides.
There was also a shared experience of marginality – of being considered "peripheries" of the global system. Eastern Europe was the first periphery of Western Europe, and the Third World was the second or even third. That sense of shared underdevelopment helped foster a certain degree of solidarity, particularly among elites – whether communist in Eastern Europe or nationalist or socialist in the Global South. And in the 1960s and 1970s, especially, international organizations offered a place where these elites could speak to one another, find common ground, and even collaborate on global visions for development.
MTH: In other words, development became not just a policy tool, but a shared language across different political systems. One thing I have been grappling with in my own work on the World Bank is how these international experts and civil servants understood their own role. Did they see themselves as Cold War actors? Because, for example, even though the World Bank is often seen as an arm of U.S. foreign policy, when you follow individual technocrats and read their records, they did not really seem to talk about the Cold War. I was wondering if you have had a similar experience – and if so, how do you explain it?
SK: Yes, I completely agree with you – and I had exactly the same surprise when I started looking at these international organizations more closely. That’s why studying the Cold War through the lens of international institutions is so revealing: it offers a very different picture of the period, one that challenges the dominant U.S.-centered narrative.
We often assume that everyone at the time saw the world primarily through Cold War lenses because that’s how much of the historiography has been framed – particularly from an American perspective. But for many of the people working inside international organizations, the Cold War was not the central frame of reference. Their main concern was peace – and how to prevent another world war. And for them, peace was not just about diplomacy or arms control. It was about addressing the root causes of instability – above all, economic inequality. These were people who had lived through the Great Depression and the devastation of World War II. In their eyes, it was economic collapse, deregulation, and massive inequality that had paved the way for fascism and war. So, their mission was to regulate the global economy, reduce inequality, and promote balanced development – not out of ideological conviction, but as a way to preserve peace.
From that perspective, development was not just a technical project – it was a political one in the broadest sense. It was about stabilizing the world by creating a more equal international order. And that explains why they did not constantly talk about the Cold War: their project was larger and longer-term. They saw themselves as heirs to the interwar institutions like the League of Nations and the International Labor Organization. In fact, many of the tools they used – like technical assistance programs – had already been developed in those earlier contexts.
So, if we take their perspective seriously – not the viewpoint of the U.S. State Department or the Kremlin – we see a different kind of international history. One in which the Cold War is important, yes, but not the only or even the main structuring force. In many ways, decolonization was much more central. If you think about what was really reshaping the world in those decades – what created new political demands, new global solidarities, new institutional challenges – it was not just East-West tension. It was the end of empire.
That’s why I would argue that the period from the 1940s to the 1970s is not best understood as a Cold War era – it’s better understood as the era of global decolonization, with the Cold War being just one layer of a much more complex story.
MTH: One thing I wanted to ask you about is your take on the Marshall Plan. In your book, you argue that the Marshall Plan was not simply about rebuilding Western Europe, but it was also a tool of economic warfare, specifically aimed at Eastern Europe – it was never open to Eastern Europe and it actively harmed its economy. Could you unpack that for us?
SK: I would say there are two key parts to this argument—one about the intent behind the Marshall Plan, and one about its consequences, especially for Eastern Europe.
As for the intent, the early Cold War was, in many ways, an economic war – and the United States was very clear about that. The Marshall Plan, while publicly framed as a program of aid, was part of a larger U.S. strategy to contain communism and assert dominance over Europe’s postwar economic order. This was not just about rebuilding, it was about shaping who got to rebuild and under what terms.
Now, it’s often said that the Marshall Plan was “open to all,” including Eastern Europe. That’s technically true – Marshall did say in 1947 that aid would be available to any country willing to cooperate. But in practice, there was no serious intention to include communist-led countries. The U.S. Congress at the time, dominated by Republicans, would never have approved funds for regimes they were actively trying to oppose. And key U.S. officials like George Kennan and William Clayton were very clear that the Plan was meant to support Western Europe and isolate the East.
In fact, the Marshall Plan effectively replaced the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration (UNRRA), which had been focused much more on Eastern Europe since that part of the continent had suffered far more destruction. Shutting down UNRRA and replacing it with the Marshall Plan was, in itself, a geopolitical move.
Even more striking, though, is how the Marshall Plan functioned as an economic weapon against Eastern Europe. For one, over half of the aid delivered through the Plan was in the form of raw materials – materials that directly competed with goods traditionally exported by Eastern European countries, including Czechoslovakia and Poland. These countries were heavily export-oriented at the time, and their representatives – especially from Czechoslovakia – repeatedly raised their concerns at the UN Economic Commission for Europe (UNECE). They saw their access to Western markets shrinking just as the Marshall Plan was creating a closed “zone of prosperity” in the West, dominated by the dollar.
Worse still, the U.S. inserted specific embargo provisions into the Marshall Plan legislation. Countries receiving aid had to agree not to export certain goods to countries that did not have U.S. export licenses – and those licenses were routinely denied to Eastern Bloc countries. This was the beginning of what later became the Coordinating Committee for Multilateral Export Controls (COCOM), which severely restricted trade with the East, especially in strategic sectors.
COCOM has been largely forgotten, but it had a serious impact. Between 1949 and the mid-1950s, it effectively blocked Eastern European access to the kinds of materials and technologies that were essential for reconstruction. The embargo policies deeply frustrated countries like Czechoslovakia and Poland, and these frustrations were clearly voiced in international forums like the UNECE – one of the few pan-European place where Easter and Wester actors still sat around the same table.
And to add one final irony: Eastern European delegates could not understand how the very country that had started the war – West Germany – was now receiving Marshall Aid, while they, who had suffered far greater devastation, were being economically excluded. Especially given the lack of real denazification in West Germany, this created a deep sense of injustice.
So yes, the Marshall Plan was not just an act of generosity. It was also a deliberate instrument of Cold War strategy – designed to consolidate the West and economically isolate the East. Once you look into the archives of international organizations, it is clear that Central European officials -who at that time were mostly social democrats- were very aware of this and very vocal about the consequences. They clearly interpreted the Marshall Plan as a tool that cut them off from their Western economic partners and increased their dependence on the Soviet Union. While Western European historians have extensively studied the Marshall Plan’s impact on Western European economies, little attention has been given to its negative impact on Central European countries.
MTH: Another topic you discuss in your book is the New International Economic Order (NIEO) – a project that gained momentum in the 1970s but had roots in earlier decades. From your perspective, why do you think the NIEO ultimately failed, despite attracting significant political attention, as recently documented by, for instance, Michael Franczak’s Global Inequality and American Foreign Policy in the 1970s? And why did the Soviet Union and its allies not fully back the NIEO agenda?
SK: The failure of the New International Economic Order (NIEO) was not solely due to political opposition from the United States or Britain, although their resistance was significant. A crucial, often overlooked factor was the powerful economic pushback from multinational corporations and global business interests. The NIEO sought to regulate these corporations because they posed a serious threat to the political sovereignty and economic independence of developing countries. This concern was well-founded, as demonstrated by historical events such as CIA-backed coups in Guatemala in 1954 and Chile in 1973, which showed how multinational companies could directly undermine governments. The NIEO proposed binding codes of conduct and stronger regulation to curb these companies' influence, leading to the establishment of the United Nations Centre on Transnational Corporations in 1974. However, multinational corporations and their representatives, including those in the International Chamber of Commerce, launched a highly organized counteroffensive to prevent any effective regulation from taking hold. They influenced international discussions and policies, protecting their interests and blocking meaningful reform.
The extent of this resistance is difficult to fully document, as many archives of relevant international business organizations remain restricted, but existing records from bodies like the ILO, International Organization of Employers, and the World Council of Churches reveal a concerted effort by business elites to resist regulation. Consequently, the NIEO gradually lost momentum, marking the beginning of a new era in which private business lobbying became an increasingly dominant force in global governance.
Regarding the socialist bloc's stance on the NIEO, it is important to dispel the notion of a unified communist front. The Soviet Union and its allies had diverse perspectives on the initiative. The Soviet Union itself did not outright oppose the NIEO but refrained from fully supporting it because the proposals were not revolutionary; instead, they sought greater regulation within the capitalist system and a fairer distribution of wealth for developing countries, rather than an outright challenge to capitalism’s foundations. For the USSR, which viewed itself as the leader of a global socialist revolution, this was insufficient.
Moreover, within the socialist bloc, countries like the German Democratic Republic were considered by many Third World elites as part of the developed world and thus less inclined to support an agenda primarily aimed at challenging developed capitalist powers. In contrast, states such as Romania, Yugoslavia (which maintained a more independent communist stance), and Bulgaria were more favorable toward the NIEO because their development goals aligned more closely with those of the Third World. Therefore, the socialist bloc’s support for the NIEO was fragmented and contingent upon each country’s leadership and priorities rather than being a monolithic stance.
MTH: Your book focuses primarily on the Cold War period and naturally concludes as the subsequent neoliberal era emerges – an era influenced by the growing agency of private business lobbies, among other factors, as you pointed out. Looking at this transition, I have two questions. First, what other continuities do you see between the Cold War international order and the neoliberal globalism that replaced it? Second, from a broader perspective, what can we learn about neoliberal globalism today by revisiting Cold War visions of international order, particularly through the lens of international organizations?
SK: This is a very important question. In my interpretation, the real Cold War – the period of intense ideological conflict and international rivalry – had already begun to decline by the 1970s. This decline was driven not only by economic crises but also by deeper structural and generational changes. One key factor was the passing of the first generation of internationalists – what I call the anti-fascist internationalists – who had lived through World War II and the Great Depression and were committed to building a more just and cooperative international order. This generation was gradually replaced by a new one that had not experienced those defining events and therefore had a very different worldview.
Another critical factor was the failure of centrally planned economies in the communist-led countries. These regimes were unable to deliver on promises of equality and prosperity, which severely undermined their legitimacy. It is important to remember that, until the 1960s, many people in countries like Czechoslovakia and East Germany genuinely believed in the possibility of a better, more equal society under communism. But by the 1970s, it became clear that this vision was not materializing, fundamentally altering how elites and societies saw the future.
Consequently, the discourse shifted. The ideals of state-led development and international solidarity, which had dominated earlier decades, became marginalized. Instead, deregulation and market liberalization – later identified as neoliberalism – became the prevailing framework. However, this shift was not driven solely by capitalist elites. In fact, state socialist elites, faced with the failure of their economic models, began to abandon orthodox socialism and progressively embraced deregulation and market reforms. In this paradoxical way, parts of Eastern Europe’s economic leadership contributed to the rise of neoliberalism.
At the same time, the emergence of new social movements – second-wave feminism and broader movements advocating individual emancipation – challenged the old solidarity-based discourse promoted by communist elites. These movements emphasized individual freedom and autonomy, which, although not explicitly neoliberal, aligned in some respects with neoliberal values. Scholars like Michel Foucault have observed this complex interaction.
From the 1980s to the early 21st century, neoliberal globalism dominated. Importantly, this form of globalism is fundamentally different from the earlier Cold War internationalism. Whereas internationalism was rooted in cooperation, solidarity, and collective progress, neoliberal globalism is driven by competition, deregulation, and market primacy. In this sense, globalism and internationalism can be viewed as opposites.
Today, we are witnessing shifts away from this neoliberal order, with phenomena such as Trumpism signaling a potential end to this era. Exploring Cold War visions of international order through the lens of international organizations reveals that the transition to neoliberal globalism was not only about changes in political power but also about profound transformations in economic models, social values, and the role of the state.
Sandrine Kott is an emerita professor of Modern European history at the University of Geneva and a global distinguished professor at New York University. She has published 8 monographs and over 130 articles in French, German and American journals and collective volumes, and edited 20 volumes and special issues in French, Polish, German, and English. Together with Davide Rodogno, she has initiated the History of International Organizations Network, a collaborative online research platform and seminar series.