Diplomatic history is often written to critically analyze or patriotically defend national interest. These two books do neither. While both offer a thorough overview of Brazil’s foreign policy over time, neither imparts special insight into the foreign policymaking processes, colorful personalities, or key institutions.

Amado Luis Cervo and Clodoaldo Bueno meticulously detail the evolution of Brazil’s foreign policy since 1822. Much of what they say, however, has been said before by João Pandiá Calógeras, Nelson Wernecke Sodré, José Honório Rodrigues, E. Bradford Burns, Stanley Hilton, and others. The most interesting part of the book, which contrasts well with Seitenfus’ work, is the review of diplomacy since 1964.

Cervo and Bueno argue that Brazil’s foreign policy has been marked by alternating cycles of Americanization and nationalism (or pragmatismo responsável). Like Thomas E. Skidmore’s now-famous pendulum-swing metaphor for political history, this book argues that in response to the independent (nationalist) foreign policy of the Quadros-Goulart years, the Castello Branco government swung foreign policy back into the U.S.-dominated order (Americanization). By the time Artur da Costa Silva and Emílio Médici were in power (1967-73), Brazil was again drifting away from the U.S. sphere, staking out a new, independent foreign policy posture. Enthusiastic Itamaraty officials convinced the military that independent foreign policy was synonymous with Brazil’s pursuit of economic development and could grant the country much sought-after glory from Third World leadership in the global arena. Deftly, Itamaraty garnished the military dictatorship’s development-security authoritarianism with intellectual justification.

Cervo and Bueno explain well how Itamaraty played the military like a violin, often serving as intellectual mentor in forging an independent foreign policy that distanced itself from Cold War rhetoric and alliances. But they barely scratch the surface of the impact of such momentous issues as the debt crisis and the subsequent negotiations with First World bankers and their surrogate, the International Monetary Fund. The authors could have made the book exciting had they analyzed, for instance, the abortive Argentine-Brazilian conspiracy to declare joint default, thereby bringing down the international financial order still dominated by the United States. They are also silent on how Brazil intends to project itself in the Western Hemisphere, the South Atlantic, and the world arena as a rising regional power.

Unlike Cervo and Bueno, Ricardo Seitenfus is keenly aware of the contradictions of Brazil’s domestic and foreign policies. After 1964, the military regime spread wanton repression against the Left at home while it expanded trade ties with socialist countries and equally or more repressive Third World countries. While it talked about being part of the “Western bloc,” Brazil did not hesitate to extend its claim of territorial waters two hundred miles into the open sea, trampling the vaunted tradition of Western maritime law. National interest came first.

It is curious that Brazil’s best (most nationalistic and self-serving) foreign policy was produced under the worst period of the military dictatorship (1969-74): the Brazilian-German nuclear accord, circumventing the U.S. blockade; the binational Itaipu hydropower project with Paraguay; a natural gas development project with Bolivia; and industrial collaboration with Venezuela, all aimed at undercutting the U.S. hegemony in Spanish America. By the time Ernesto Geisel became president (1974), Brazil was seeking global recognition, its due now as the eighth-largest economy in the non-Communist world. The United States, however, still licking its wounds from Vietnam, refused to grant the honor. Brazil saw the United States as in irreversible decline and itself in unstoppable ascent. Things have changed much since the halcyon days. Unfortunately, Seitenfus’ agenda for Brazil’s future foreign policy is too elusive and even too ephemeral to comment on.

Although these books do not shed new light on Brazil’s foreign policy, they provide good chronicles of the times. To be sure, Brazil’s foreign policy has more to offer than what has been said. Well researched, the books are also a solid testimony to the current state of Brazilian historical research.