The War Lovers: Roosevelt, Lodge, Hearst, and the Rush to Empire, 1898
Evan Thomas. New York: Little, Brown, 2010. 470 pp. Illus. Notes. Index. $29.99.
Reviewed by Thomas B. Allen
Anyone who knows anything about the Spanish-American War knows that William Randolph Hearst's sensationalist press is rumored to have helped to start it and Theodore Roosevelt's Rough Riders are supposed to have helped win it. In his latest book, The War Lovers, Evan Thomas cites another contributor: Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, who saw the war as the launching of an American empire.
Hearst's screaming headlines—REMEMBER THE MAINE!—stoked popular support of the war. And Roosevelt's back-channel moves as Assistant Secretary of the Navy added Manila Bay to the conflict (via a cable to Commodore George Dewey, unauthorized by the Secretary of the Navy). But, as Thomas shows, it was Lodge's quiet political maneuvering that led a reluctant President William McKinley to lead the nation into war by signing a congressional resolution calling for Cuban independence. "We are in it for all we are worth," Lodge wrote in triumph. "But it is a terrible business."
In his superb narrative, Thomas brings Hearst, Roosevelt, and Lodge to the stage, showing them perform their vision of war-as-remedy for a nation suffering from a lack of manhood. When McKinley in his 1897 inaugural address promised to avoid wars of conquest, Hearst derided him as "vague and sapless." Roosevelt, in a speech that same year at the Naval War College, said the nation needed "a great navy, partly because we feel that no national life is worth having if the nation is not willing . . . to pour out its blood . . . rather than submit to the loss of honor and renown." He used the word "war" 62 times in the speech. Meanwhile, Lodge was promoting his "Large Policy," which called for an expansion of American power and the annexation of Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Philippines, and Hawaii.
After the sinking of the USS Maine in Havana harbor, Roosevelt blamed Spain, and, in a letter to his confidant, Rear Admiral Alfred Thayer Mahan, he wrote, "We should fight this minute." But he had reason to believe that an accidental explosion of a powder magazine, not an underwater mine, had destroyed the Maine. Well aware that the ship's coal bunkers adjoined the magazine, he wrote in a personal letter that "with so much loose powder round, a coal may hop into it at any moment."
Thomas sees the Spanish-American War as "a harbinger, if not the model, of modern American wars." But he builds a stronger case for his belief in "the human dynamic—the eternal pull of war on men." Woven into Thomas' story are two men who opposed that pull. William James, the Harvard philosopher who taught Roosevelt, told his students that society needed a "moral equivalent of war." Thomas Reed, the powerful and acerbic speaker of the House, tried to stave off the war, triggering a punch-throwing melee in the House and ending his political career.
Hearst and Roosevelt, who detested one another, shared a craving for war in Cuba, and both journeyed there—Roosevelt the Rough Rider exulting, "Holy Godfrey, what fun!" and Hearst the journalist in flat-rimmed straw hat, leading Spanish prisoners in three cheers for "George Washington and Old Glory." The war, in Thomas' crisp and hard-eyed account, yielded no glory and produced more deaths from disease than from bullets.
When Spanish troops formally surrendered, American troops barred Cuban rebels from entering Santiago for the ceremonies. The snub triggered Cuba's enduring suspicion of Yankee policy toward its neighbor. In January 1959, when Fidel Castro led his rebels into Santiago, he reminded his followers about that humiliating moment "when the Americans . . . made themselves masters."
The war fulfilled Lodge's vision of an America whose power would extend beyond its boundaries. And it set Roosevelt on the path to the White House. But he did not receive in his lifetime what he wanted most: the Medal of Honor, for his courageous leadership on the San Juan battlefield. Brigadier General Theodore Roosevelt Jr., who rode in a jeep labeled "Rough Rider" and hobbled with a cane up Utah Beach on D-Day, would be awarded the medal that his father cherished. He died of a heart attack a month later. "The Roosevelts, father and son, were war lovers," Thomas writes. "Because only the dead have known the end of war, they will not be the last."
Three Kings: The Rise of an American Empire in the Middle East after World War II
Lloyd C. Gardner. New York: The New Press, 2009. 304 pp. Pref. Notes. Index. $25.95.
Reviewed by John P. Williams
As the United States steps up efforts to disentangle itself from Iraq and focuses on improving conditions in Afghanistan, Lloyd Gardner gives us, in Three Kings, a timely and exceptionally relevant book. Gardner, a diplomatic historian at Rutgers University, has produced a clearly written and well-documented history of U.S. efforts to supplant Great Britain in the Middle East during the early years of the Cold War. In the midst of heated debates over U.S. presence in the Middle East, he provides the important historical context.
Beginning in the waning days of World War II, Three Kings does a tremendous job of portraying the storied and at times mercenary efforts to project U.S. power and influence through a complex series of common-interest relationships with the countries of the region. Relying on the ideological struggle between communism and the free world, the Truman Doctrine provided the justification for U.S. postwar ambitions to establish and expand a network of military facilities throughout the Middle East. The doctrine was also the necessary cover to open the door to lucrative U.S commercial interests, most notably the highly profitable oil industry.
Three Kings is as informative as it is instructive. Gardner clarifies the intricate relationships and historic agreements that governed the rise of the United States' influence in the Middle East. The expertly woven narrative explains the unintended consequences of backroom deals and power brokering inside the U.S. government and among foreign governments at the time.
Arming a would-be ally under the guise of defending against "international communism" was a project not without risk. As Gardner explains in his extensive coverage of the revolution in Egypt, the coup in Iran, and the overthrow of the government in Iraq, ensuring that cooperative foreign leaders remained in power often came at a hefty price.
The book's most appealing element is that it pulls no punches. Three Kings leaves the reader with a clear sense of the complex issues and an understanding of the lingering effects of this period of U.S. foreign policy. Gardner's descriptions of the policy processes peel away the lacquer of popular history to uncover the often-unappealing details of how the Middle East was won (or not) and exposes the roots of today's ongoing conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Rage Company: A Marine's Baptism by Fire
Thomas P. Daly. Foreword by Bing West. Hoboken, NJ: John Wiley & Sons, 2010. 384 pp. Maps. Illus. Index. $25.95.
Reviewed by David J. Danelo
If you are deploying to urban combat, forget David Galula. Leave General Vo Nguyen Giap on the shelf. Put away T. E. Lawrence. If you have time to read only one book about 21st century urban warfare, make it Captain Tom Daly's Rage Company.
I mean no disrespect to the aforementioned pillars of wisdom. Counterinsurgency classics are important and relevant, and no officer has ever died from too much reading. But too often, professional warriors girding for the fight scrutinize today's battlefields through well-meaning but excessive analyses of past irregular conflicts. Captains and colonels with limited attention spans—frozen to their email accounts, BlackBerries tethered to them like umbilical cords—struggle to distill the lessons of Malaysia or World War I into practical policy while handling administrative obligations and training tasks before boarding a C-130 bound for Baghdad or Bagram.
This is what makes Rage Company essential reading. Daly's narrative is an unflinching, apolitical first-person account of how the U.S. military fought and won Ramadi's urban war. In 2006, when Daly deployed as a lieutenant with an infantry unit, Ramadi had become al Qaeda in Iraq's capital city and was the central training and supply hub insurgents used to project mayhem. The "Anbar Awakening" was a nascent movement; clan leaders had cast their lots with the U.S. military, but no one knew know long the sheikhs would believe America was the strongest tribe. Daly captures the sense of uncertainty and enthusiasm during those early moments when al Qaeda was knocked off guard.
In his book The Strongest Tribe, author and former assistant secretary of defense for national security affairs Bing West (who also wrote the foreword to Daly's book) frames the big picture of the Anbar Awakening. Conversely, Daly explains the detailed decisions that led to success at the small unit level. Daly does not dwell on domestic reflection, moral philosophy, or the emotions of homecoming, although he is such a good writer you sometimes wish he had. If famed Iraq and Afghanistan adventurer and Conservative MP Rory Stewart had been a Marine Corps artillery officer—attached to a rifle company and tossed into a provisional intelligence role in Ramadi—he might have written this book.
This is also a book about killing, which is significant. While officially enshrined counterinsurgency doctrine emphasizes soft power over kinetic operations ("sometimes the best weapons do not shoot"), Daly illustrates how COIN clich
s translate in dusty urban cauldrons against enemies seen and unseen. The weapons that shoot are absolutely essential, and they are employed most effectively when leveraged through local partnerships. Counterinsurgency, as Daly shows, involves persuading those who can be persuaded, detaining those who should be detained, killing those who must be killed, and developing the intelligence and evidence to determine the difference.These are not new concepts, but Daly does a tremendous job of taking readers through this experience at a company level. After an early patrol, he fails to collect enough statements and physical evidence to lock away known insurgents and then develops a more effective method alongside other lieutenants. In later scenes he questions his courage and then rebounds almost instantly amid the furious pace of combat. He nearly loses faith in his company commander, who he believed had unfairly singled out a lieutenant, only to witness his CO's combat judgment validated at a crucial moment.
Although the prose is cluttered with acronyms and professional jargon, making it less accessible for civilians, the candor and power of Daly's simple observations carry his story. He magnificently captures one combat scene after another. He narrates the evolution of attitudes toward friends and enemies as he shows the intimate rhythm of life on an infantry company staff. The fusion of anecdotes and after-actions gives Rage Company both the sincerity of an extended beer session and the veracity of a formal military seminar. Daly's account of war is both lucid and true. Read it.
The Watchers: The Rise of America's Surveillance State
Shane Harris. New York: Penguin Press, 2010. 418 pp. Illus. Notes. Index. $27.95.
Reviewed by Rear Admiral Thomas A. Brooks, U.S. Navy (Retired)
A glance at the title and the flyleaf's claim that "Our government's strategy has made it harder to catch terrorists and easier to spy on the rest of us" creates the impression that this book is yet another screed decrying the government's spying on innocent Americans. One expects to find hysterical prose on how these sinister authorities are recording our very thoughts. While there is some such language in its last 100 pages, The Watchers is not that kind of book at all. It has an interesting story to tell and tells it fairly well. One wonders whether the flyleaf hyperbole was meant to generate controversy simply to sell more books.
The Watchers examines the U.S. government's efforts to come to grips with the challenge of collecting signals intelligence in the era of fiber optics, disposable cell phones, the Internet, and the mass distribution of data. It focuses on the National Security Agency (NSA) and a program the book refers to as "Stellar Wind," which, we are told, is designed to capture virtually all the telecommunications and Internet traffic around the globe and extract meaningful intelligence and counterterrorism information from the huge volume of collected data.
There is little new in this volume. Indeed, almost everything the author recounts has been described in numerous press articles or other books. One does not glean an understanding of how NSA solves the great puzzle or of how successful (or unsuccessful) "Stellar Wind" might be. The Watchers' value lies not in a new story but in Harris' telling of it, his exhaustive research, and extensive interviews with many of the primary players.
Harris traces the efforts to build massive data bases of information and communications and to structure a data-mining effort to extract intelligence from data. He credits former Reagan administration National Security Adviser John Poindexter with inventing the concept. While working at Defense Advanced Research Program Agency in the late 1990s, Poindexter devised a program called TIA
Total Information Awareness. This was an early experimental form of data mining and retrieval for intelligence analysis.But Congress discovered the program, labeled it an invasion of privacy, recoiled at Poindexter's involvement because of his Iran-Contra connections, and canceled all funding. The author posits that TIA was then picked up by NSA and other government agencies and persists, in one form or another, in today's intelligence community. TIA was a largely unsuccessful research program and, as is often true of good basic research, significant lessons were learned that almost certainly found their way into other programs. But to identify it as the direct ancestor of the NSA program is almost certainly stretching a point.
Harris might have portrayed Poindexter as some sort of sinister
minence grise lurking behind the scenes and driving a government effort to spy on its people. But he did not. He interviewed Poindexter 14 times and recognized in him a brilliant technologist, patriot, and man of character and integrity. To Harris' credit, so he portrays him in his book.Harris spends the latter third of his book on the related issue of the legal basis for intercepting communications—through the United States—between parties who may be U.S. citizens or legal resident aliens. He traces the origin of the U.S. Foreign Intelligence Surveillance (FISA) Court and the legislation that founded it to develop an expeditious method to obtain wiretap warrants in national-security cases. But technology had overtaken the workings of the court. The Internet era was no longer dealing with old-fashioned wiretaps.
Both political parties acknowledged that the laws covering warrantless monitoring of suspect communications needed to be modernized and that the issue of giving legal immunity to telephone companies that had cooperated with the government would have to be confronted. But there was little agreement on how this should be done. With President George W. Bush in office and with the Democrats in control of both houses of Congress, a virtual impasse existed. Director of National Intelligence, former-Vice Admiral Mike McConnell, had to find a workable compromise. The author outlines the Washington political maneuvering and infighting that took place, but fails to give McConnell the credit he is due in bringing about a solution. McConnell negotiated an agreement, only to have the White House pull the rug out from under him. The episode is Washington partisan politics at its worst, but it makes for fascinating reading.
In the end, Harris asks the question "Who is watching the watchers
" He concludes that no one really is. But he could not be more mistaken. Battalions of lawyers are constantly looking over the shoulders of our intelligence collectors telling them why they cannot do things. The FISA court conducts periodic reviews. Then there are the Department of Justice and congressional oversight committees. If anything, the "watchers" are being overly watched.In sum, Harris' book has little new to reveal, but it is an interesting and well-written history of how we arrived where we are in the attempt to solve the problem of analyzing massive amounts of data and sifting out meaningful intelligence while protecting civil liberties.