Eisenhower 1956: The President’s Year of Crisis—Suez and the Brink of War
David A. Nichols. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2011. 368 pp. Intro. Prologue. Illus. Maps. Notes. $28.
Reviewed by Jeffrey R. Macris
The year 1956 proved a monumental one in the Middle East. After generations of Egyptian nationalist agitation, for the first time in more than seven decades British forces departed their enormous military reservation adjacent to the Suez Canal. In addition, after Egyptian leader Gamal Abdul Nasser had turned to the Soviet bloc for weapons the previous year, the flow of which the West had attempted to limit, the United States withdrew its offer to fund the proposed mammoth Aswan Dam project. Within days, this rebuff led Nasser to nationalize the Suez Canal, seizing the British and French concern that operated the waterway.
Panicked over their loss of a critical world choke point, and fearful of their diminishing influence in the region, the British and French—with the Israelis—attacked Egypt. The invasion elicited international outrage. President Dwight D. Eisenhower condemned his former World War II allies in London and Paris and exerted diplomatic and economic pressure that led to a withdrawal within weeks. By the end of that turbulent year, Nasser’s popularity among Arabs skyrocketed, while the influence of Britain and France plummeted. Fearing the growth of Soviet influence in this vacuum, the President unveiled his so-called “Eisenhower Doctrine,” which pledged U.S. economic, political, and military assistance to Middle East nations threatened by Soviet aggression.
Author David Nichols deftly tells this story from the perspective of a physically and emotionally exhausted U.S. President, reeling from a heart attack the previous year and subsequent intestinal surgery. Written for a general audience, the book moves through the U.S. election year at a breezy clip, with special emphasis on the relationship between Eisenhower and his secretary of state, John Foster Dulles. Nichols draws on declassified documents as well as the diaries of Eisenhower and his personal secretary to pull readers into discussions that took place in the Oval Office and at the President’s farm in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, where he spent much of his convalescence. In these pages, one feels the anguish of a President who desperately wanted to remain fully engaged in developments in Egypt, as well as the concurrent Soviet invasion of Hungary, but whose doctors limited his activities. The book also describes the debate among the President and his advisers concerning a second presidential term. These personal insights are some of the high points of Eisenhower 1956.
The interplay between Eisenhower and Dulles during this year is particularly interesting. Nichols argues that the President was normally deeply involved in foreign policy. During the period leading up to the Suez crisis, however, much more power rested in Dulles’ hands because of the President’s ailments. Although congressional opposition made canceling U.S. funding for the Aswan project almost inevitable, Nichols suggests that the manner in which Dulles terminated it—a public humiliation for Nasser—made an Egyptian reprisal more likely. Eisenhower did not view Nasser with the same alarm as did others, including his secretary of state and British and French leaders. One might argue, then, as Nichols has, that Eisenhower’s maladies profoundly shaped the chaotic events in the Middle East in 1956.
In concentrating on a single year, an author runs the risk of writing a text that simply catalogs the protagonist’s day-to-day activities. To his credit, Nichols avoids this trap by including appropriate background and context. He discusses the decolonization pressures that beset the region following World War II, for example, as well as the growth of pan-Arab nationalism that Nasser’s popularity fueled. The impact of the Soviet-American Cold War competition, furthermore, is particularly well treated; Eisenhower viewed the Middle East as a potential trigger for a nuclear confrontation.
The book contains a few surprises, too, for example, the extent to which London and Paris deceived Washington, and the degree to which Eisenhower let London and Paris “boil in their own oil.” Nichols also reveals that Nasser sought the intervention of the U.S. 6th Fleet to protect against an Anglo-French invasion—a request that Eisenhower turned down in favor of a dialogue in the United Nations.
An enjoyable book, Nichols’ work is a welcome addition to the literature of the Western superpowers and their shaping of the modern Middle East. The role of President Eisenhower in the 1956 Suez Crisis has not received extensive academic attention; Nichols’ book does a worthy job of filling this gap.
Lions of Kandahar: The Story of a Fight Against All Odds
Major Rusty Bradley and Kevin Maurer. New York: Bantam Books, 2011. 304 pp. Gloss. Illus. $26.
Reviewed by Colonel David S. Maxwell, U.S. Army
Lions of Kandahar is not just any book about a Special Forces “A-Team” (Operational Detachment Alpha, in official parlance) in Afghanistan. A number of such books have been written, and there are likely to be many more. However, this one offers important perspectives beyond those of a heroic team of U.S. and Afghan soldiers fighting outnumbered and in a complex environment, the sort that characterizes the lives of all soldiers and of Special Forces in particular: dirty, dangerous, and difficult.
Major Rusty Bradley’s story yields insights into the personality of the Special Forces soldier and the team dynamics of the special-operations community. Here is the gritty and colorful dialogue, the thoughts, intellect, and pure physical stamina that drives the will to fight, survive, and win on the battlefield. This highly skilled and respected leader brings to life the drama of family life, sacrifice, self-analysis, and reflection. He describes the respect and loyalty that are present up and down the chain of command, which you rarely read about in personal accounts. Soldiers and Special Forces members will recognize similar experiences and challenges, and non-military readers will be able to glimpse behind the shroud of military operations and learn what a commitment to soldiering is all about. For those reasons alone this book is worth the read.
But this is also the story of a little-known action: Operation Medusa. An Internet search will reveal a number of articles written about it in 2006, but most are found in the Canadian press, because it was Canadian-led and did not make much news in the United States. Nevertheless, U.S. Special Forces were right in the thick of it.
Bradley notes that there was no American strategy during the period 2002-2009 until General Stanley A. McChrystal arrived and instituted his counterinsurgency campaign. This operation and these battles took place during the period that some were beginning to call “the forgotten war” in Afghanistan, when the world’s attention was focused on Iraq. Bradley’s story illuminates a period when Coalition forces were attempting to accomplish ambiguous objectives in Afghanistan while being the number-two priority. Despite this status, they demonstrated no less commitment to the mission.
There are two very important lessons to be taken from Lions of Kandahar. First, from 2002-2009 a narrative was constructed arguing that U.S. Special Forces were solely focused on unilateral direct-action missions and capturing and killing high-value targets. This book provides an alternative narrative and shows what it was like to train, live, work, and fight with Afghan soldiers. It demonstrates one of the core competencies of Special Forces: the ability to organize, train, equip, advise, and if necessary lead indigenous forces in combat either in support of counterinsurgency or unconventional-warfare operations.
The second important lesson is that Special Forces are capable of integrating indigenous forces into larger counterinsurgency operations with regular units. Again, this is one of their core competencies, and Bradley’s book helps reinforce this fact. Special Forces know how to support the larger campaign objectives and operations, although they might try to do so in unconventional ways.
I recommend Lions of Kandahar not just because it is a good and insightful read, but because it illustrates the important contributions Special Forces can make on the modern battlefield while capturing the pain, tragedy, camaraderie, and spirit of the A-Team as it embodies its motto, De Opresso Liber—to free the oppressed.
Deadly Waters: The Hidden World of Somalia’s Pirates
Jay Bahadur. London, UK: Profile Books, 2011. 255 pp. Illus. Maps. Notes. $15.
Reviewed by Captain Carl Otis Schuster, U.S. Navy (Retired)
Somalia’s pirates have become as widely identified as a scourge to Indian Ocean shipping as their country is recognized as a failed state. In fact, piracy is the better known of the East African nation’s three flourishing sectors (the drug and weapons trade being the others), and Somalia’s piracy is increasing. More than nine nations have deployed naval units to antipiracy operations in the western Indian Ocean. Yet the problem continues to escalate, becoming essentially a maritime insurgency, reaching farther out to sea to threaten commerce in unpatrolled ocean areas. Every type of civilian maritime craft has been attacked, from the smallest ocean-going yachts to the largest supertankers.
Experts agree that increased naval patrols and presence can at best contain the problem. The solution lies in establishing effective government ashore, and therein lies the predicament. Somalia has no truly functioning government, army, or police force, and its body polity is divided along clan lines with no unifying national identity behind which to rally the population as a whole. In fact, it is a misnomer to treat Somalia as a state, failed or otherwise. It is instead a collection of autonomous enclaves whose boundaries and authority are in constant contention and conflict.
It was into this violent milieu of warring factions that Jay Bahadur thrust himself in 2008, hoping to report on Somalia’s pirates. He lived among them, interviewed their leaders, then departed to discuss piracy with international subject-matter experts, shipping-company officials, the International Maritime Board, and former hostages from seized ships. He then returned to Somalia, doing follow-up interviews and measuring the pirates’ changing operational environment, tactics, and world. His three-year effort produced Deadly Waters.
Bahadur’s book is more than a report on Somali piracy; it is a thorough study of the pirates’ lives both in and out of their skiffs: how they spend their money, the houses they live in, the clothes they wear, the cars they drive, their women, and even their drugs of choice. He has swept away many myths and misperceptions and shed new light on what launched these men into piracy. He has even clarified their finances.
In his straightforward narrative, the author describes his arrival in Garowe, the capital of Somalia’s autonomous province of Puntland, from which most pirates operate. He describes making contact with those who arrange his access to the pirates. He meets the self-proclaimed first pirate leader, Boyah, and today’s “Commander Computer,” a reputed psychic. Subsequent interviews expose how Somali piracy got its start. Although all claimed to be ex-fishermen, this is not a tale of disgruntled workers seeking redress for their loss of income but rather, of prospective coast guardsmen trained to board, search, and tax Yemeni fishing vessels operating in Somali waters. When their government failed to pay them, they found themselves penniless but in possession of the craft, weapons, and skills to make their living on the sea by other means. In any case, few of the pirates’ targets are fishing vessels. Most of their attacks have been conducted hundreds of miles outside Somali waters.
Bahadur also examined the onshore conditions required for pirates to operate. There must be high unemployment, limited and ineffectual government control, but sufficient stability to permit them to operate without interference. Somaliland, for example is too stable. Its leadership has the cohesion and effectiveness to clamp down on illegal activity.
Southern Somalia’s chaos of warring parties, shifting alliances, and jihadists makes for an unpredictable operating environment. There are too many parties to pay off, and alliances shift too quickly. That is why Puntland has become the primary home base, recruiting ground, and staging area for Somalia’s piracy. It is starved of funding, divided by clan politics and corruption—but there is no open warfare under way. Its clan enclaves are uncontested and largely free from government intervention. Whom to bribe is very clear. Both the author and the experts he interviewed accept that 20 to 30 percent of the pirates’ incomes go to Puntland officials.
Deadly Waters is not a tale of derring-do, but rather a dispassionate examination of the pirates and their industry. Bahadur’s detailed examination of their expenses and income provides fascinating insights into the business. He dispels the myth of well-financed pirates enjoying the support of a vast criminal network, revealing instead that they acquire much of their information from the Internet and expatriates with access to port news. The most successful pirate leaders have built large homes in Eyl, other parts of Puntland, and even as far as Kenya. Most have wasted their money on the shrub khat, a stimulant, SUVs, and women. The majority of the “lower ranks” get by only slightly better than their unemployed counterparts, but Bahadur argues that the former still have a better life than the latter.
The author uses photographs effectively to give his subjects a human face. Unfortunately, his efforts to provide balance lead to conflicting answers that often yield no clearer picture of piracy’s causes or solutions. Still, Deadly Waters is a must-read for anyone trying to understand Somalia’s pirates and the potential answers to the problem.
Silent Killers: Submarines and Underwater Warfare
James P. Delgado. Foreword by Clive Cussler. Long Island City, NY: Osprey Publishing, 2011. 264 pp. Illus. Notes. Index. $24.95.
Reviewed by Norman Polmar
Marine archaeologist James Delgado has written several excellent books related to warships, and Osprey Publishing certainly produces excellent naval books. Unfortunately, this effort falls short of the high standards established by both.
The book’s jacket proclaims that “Silent Killers traces the history of the most deadly hunter in the ocean.” And this the book does, beginning with the pre-submarine diving bells (well, hardly “hunters,” but possibly relevant) through the Ohio-class ballistic-missile submarine—but again, hardly “hunters.” Nevertheless, Delgado strays further afield, with lengthy discussions of noncombat submersibles, in the same chapter with missile-armed nuclear submarines, and ends with a chapter on submarine museums and memorials.
The first half of the book, which covers submarine development up to the eve of World War I, is interesting and well-written. While there is little new in the text, it provides a good overview, and the author has provided an excellent selection of photos and drawings for these pages.
The subsequent coverage of submarine warfare in two world wars and the interim period is superficial at best and contains numerous errors. For example, the huge British M-class submarines were not post-World War I developments but were designed and constructed during the conflict. Indeed, the M-1 was deployed to the Mediterranean during the war. Nor were they built on the hulls of never-completed K-class submarines; their hull lines, size, and propulsion plants were completely different. Further, the author states that the M-class submarines were “. . . intended at first to be used for monitoring enemy ships’ coastal bombardment, their role was shifted to surface engagement against ships that a torpedo could not sink.” These submarines were developed specifically to bombard targets along the coast of German-held Belgium. When the war ended, the 12-inch guns were removed from two of the three submarines.
The errors accumulate during the book’s treatment of the Cold War era: the USS Nautilus (SSN-571) was not a deep-diving submarine; the older, diesel-electric Tang-class could also dive to 700 feet. The Soviet November-class (Project 627) was initiated under Premier Joseph Stalin in 1952, not under his later successor, Nikita Khrushchev. The dimensions he gives for many submarines are incorrect, especially Soviet undersea craft; the USS Thresher (SSN-593) was not on a “mission” when she was lost, but on post-overhaul trials; and the cause of the loss of the USS Scorpion (SSN-589) is not “unknown” and certainly was not a “retaliatory act by the Soviet Union” for the sinking of the Soviet K-129 after a collision with an American submarine.
While the illustrations in the first half of the volume are interesting and useful, those in the second half are much less so. For example, while the submarine Balao (SS-285) receives more commentary than any other World War II-era submarine, the only photo of her is a nondescript stern view. The single page of comparative side views of U.S. submarines is interesting, but unfortunately, they are not to scale.
The summary chapter of Silent Killers ends not with a synopsis of submarine development and warfare—the “most deadly hunter in the ocean”—but with a discussion of research and tourist submersibles. However, even then the important U.S. nuclear-propelled submersible NR-1 is covered only with part of a single sentence, and there is no mention at all of Soviet nuclear-propelled research craft.
These errors and omissions render what might have been a useful book by an excellent writer, not possible to recommend.