The last 30 years have seen an increasing acceptance of an apparently ubiquitous link between the state and the use of force, with violence now seen as a defining attribute of the state. Few have questioned this approach, but it constitutes a significant shift that contrasts with that of previous eras, where violence was a symptom of failure. This unquestioned link would appear to be deepening our problems in considering the difficulties facing liberal democracies at the beginning of the twenty-first century.In a recent book Philip Bobbitt, a senior adviser to both Democratic and Republican Presidential administrations in America, bases his discussion of the history and future of the state on an almost complete fusion of the state and violence, along with a sense that, for the purposes of analysis, the state can usefully be seen as a coherent body divorced from society. He sees an intimate connection between the state and coercion, with violence presented as a productive energy that has caused successive forms of the state to be created, altered and superseded because of 'epochal wars'. 1 Consequently, force must lie at the core of any attempt to understand the state, which, he writes, 'exists to master violence'. For Bobbitt, the end of the epochal war of the twentieth century-where the parliamentary version of the nation-state defeated its competitors, fascism and communism -exposed the failure of the general promise made by the modern nation-state to its citizens: that it would facilitate the implementation of certain moral outcomes. In attempting to fulfil this pledge, the state used its core capacity, violence, to invade the private life of the citizen, but the failure to deliver on this promise has required the refocusing of that primary state attribute into the narrower, and more acceptable, area of providing security. Bobbitt identifies a new state form resulting from this change, which he terms