New Books in Foreign Policy

[Crossposted from New Books in History] Most of us live in a world of nations. If you were born and live in the Republic of X, then you probably speak X-ian, are a citizen of X, and would gladly fight and die for your X-ian brothers and sisters. If, however, you were born and live in the Republic of X and you are not–by self-proclaimed identity–X-ian, then you are, well, a problem. But it wasn't always so. Prior to the nineteenth century, people generally did not live in a world of nations. They lived in a world of empires. Now in hindsight, we say that these empires were "multinational," that is, they were made up of nations. But the elites who ran the empires didn't think so. They saw them as made up of territories where the sovereign's writ ran, not "nations" that the sovereign ruled (though there was some of that as well). As Michael A. Reynolds points out in his fine book Shattering Empires: The Clash and Collapse of the Ottoman and Russian Empires, 1908-1918 (Cambridge UP, 2011), European imperial elites of the nineteenth century faced a crisis when nations–and the political doctrine that said they should be self-governing, "nationalism"–began to grow in strength. The idea of nations and the program of nationalism were born in Western and Central Europe, where they caused some but not too much difficulty, at least at first (a story we will have to leave aside). When, however, the nation-states of Western and Central Europe began to threaten, territorially speaking, the empires of Eastern Europe, and to export the doctrine of nationalism to those regions, the real trouble began. For Austro-Hungarian, Russian, and Ottoman elites understood that war and nationalism in the imperial context would likely mean the end of empire. One could not fight external and internal enemies at the same time. They were not wrong in this. As Reynolds shows, they did the best they could, creating alliances with Western and Central European powers to buy time, fostering subversive nationalisms within the borders of their opponents, and, eventually, embracing nationalism and embarking on massive campaigns of ethnic cleansing and killing (most infamously in the case of the Armenians). In one case, they succeeded after a fashion in holding the empire together, at least for a time (Russia); in two others they failed (Austria-Hungary and the Ottoman Empire). But they were all victims of war and nationalism, forces they helped create and could not control.

[Crossposted from New Books in Public Policy] Where do we stand on the War on Terror?  Is it still going on, and if so, are we winning or losing it? In William Bennett and Seth Leibsohn’s The Fight of Our Lives: Knowing the Enemy, Speaking the Truth, and Choosing to Win the War Against Radical Islam (Thomas Nelson, 2011), the authors look at the current state of the War on Terror, how it is going, and why it remains important. Bennett, a former senior Washington official, and his co-author Leibsohn review the origins of — and the Obama administration’s mixed messages on pursuing — the War on Terror.  They also make the argument of why the U.S. needs to remain vigilant in its prosecution of the conflict.   As we learned in the podcast, the book may surprise those who come to it with preconceived notions about the authors or about the wisdom of fighting and winning a war against terror.  Read all about it, and more, in Bennett and Leibsohn’s eye-opening new book. Please become a fan of “New Books in Public Policy” on Facebook if you haven’t already.

[Crossposted from New Books in Public Policy] International theorists like to game out every possible scenario. What would happen if you applied their methodology to dealing with the fictional public policy challenge of a zombie infestation? In Dan Drezner’s Theories of International Politics and Zombies (Princeton UP, 2011), he looks at each of the major international relations schools–realism, liberalism, neoconservatism, etc.–to determine how they would react to a zombie attack. In the book, Drezner combines a strong understanding of international-relations theory with a comprehensive knowledge of the zombies. He also uses charts, cartoons, and humor to make his points. In the podcast, I ask Drezner to apply his approach to the question of how President Obama would cope with a zombie attack.    We discuss all of these things, and have our share of laughs, along the way. Read all about it, and more, in Drezner’s humorous new book. Please become a fan of “New Books in Public Policy” on Facebook if you haven’t already.

[Crossposted from New Books in History] How different is the United States from other nations? American leaders and common folk have often said it's very different. The Founding Fathers said it, Abraham Lincoln said it, Woodrow Wilson said it, Franklin Roosevelt said it, Bill Clinton said it, and George W. Bush said it–and they were hardly the only ones. It certainly seems that the history and nature of United States are quite different from other comparable nations. Americans often say that the U.S., almost uniquely, has been and remains 'a nation of immigrants,' the 'land of opportunity,' and the 'arsenal of democracy.' But how much of it is true? In his provocative new book The Myth of American Exceptionalism (Yale UP, 2009) Godfrey Hodgson attempts to answer this important question. He's the right man to do so. Though British, he has observed the U.S. professionally for nearly half a century. Thus he has both the perspective of the detached outsider and the knowledge of the native insider. He challenges Americans to look at themselves as others see them. Whether you agree with Hodgson or not (and as you'll hear, we sometimes cross swords), that is certainly a good thing and we should thank him for it.

[Crossposted from New Books in History] In 1983, when I was in college, I participated in something called a "Die-In." A group of us set up crosses on the commons and threw ourselves on the ground as if we were dead. The idea, such as it was, was to suggest that nuclear weapons were bad and should be done away with. Quite honestly, I didn't really think it would work (to put it mildly).  But as Larry Wittner shows in his compelling Confronting the Bomb: A Short History of the World Nuclear Disarmament Movement (Stanford, 2009), I was wrong, or at least partially wrong. Larry demonstrates that the nuclear disarmament movement had an impact on government policy. Politicians, not just here in the US but also in unlikely places like the USSR, actually listened to the protesters. But they sensed that a lot of people–like Einstein and me–were very uncomfortable with mutually assured destruction and wanted something done about it. Ronald Reagan listened. And so did Mikhail Gorbachev. After reading Larry's book, I'm thinking I may organize another "Die-In."

[Crossposted from New Books in History] I have a (much beloved) colleague who calls all history about things before AD 1900 “that old stuff.” Of course she means it as a gentle jab at those of us who study said “old stuff.” Gentle, but in some ways telling. Many historians and history readers genuinely have a bias against the older periods, and particularly against the history of the pre-Hellenic Ancient World (roughly 10,000 BCE to 500 BCE). That’s really too bad for a whole host of reasons. For the sake of brevity, I’ll just list three "biggies": 1) The Ancient World witnessed the greatest single break in the history of humankind, that is, the transition from hunter-gather to sedentary agricultural life; 2) The deepest roots of our civilizations (Western, Eastern, you name it) are mostly to be found in the Ancient World; 3) Finally, the basic institutions of what we think of as “modern” life were all hammered out for the first time in the Ancient World. Take, for example, diplomacy. As Amanda Podany shows in her engaging new book Brotherhood of Kings: How International Relations Shaped the Ancient Near East (Oxford University Press, 2010), the rulers of Sumer, Akkad, Syria, Egypt and the rest developed a way of dealing with one another that will be strikingly familiar to anyone who follows modern international relations. They regularly sent envoys to one another. Those envoys were given safe passage, provided with diplomatic immunity, and treated as special guests. Royal representatives followed strict instructions from their masters. They negotiated formal treaties, which included such things as the conditions for international trade. They presented gifts from their masters to their hosts and expected gifts in return. They arranged for diplomatic marriages of the kind any student of European history would recognize. All this is nothing if not strikingly “modern.” Yet, as Amanda points out, the entire system was invented over 4,000 years ago. And, thanks to Amanda, you can read all about it. If you do, you won't think of "that old stuff" as really that old, or at least odd.

[Crossposted from New Books in History] Ronald Reagan was a odd fellow. Nobody seems to know what to make of him. He started as a Democrat and then became a Republican. Then he broke ranks with his party by running for president against a sitting Republican. As a leader, he appeared to be affably naive; yet he also seemed to be capable of formulating "three-steps-ahead" strategies. Once in office, he came to be known as the "great communicator"; yet it was always hard to figure out what he was really thinking. But the most paradoxical thing about Reagan was his sudden volte-face on the issue of working with the Communists. In 1980, he was the hardest of hardliners on relations with the Soviet Union. By 1986, he was seriously thinking about eliminating the entire American nuclear stockpile in a deal with a little-known Soviet leader named Gorbachev. The U.S. foreign policy establishment and conservative pundits threw a fit. But Reagan knew a good opportunity when he saw one, as James Mann points out in his thought-provoking, important new book The Rebellion of Ronald Reagan. A History of the End of the Cold War (Viking, 2009). Reagan seemed to understand what the "experts" didn't: that Gorbachev really was different, that the Soviet Union's grip on Eastern Europe was slipping, and that Communism itself was on the rocks. Mann does a masterful job of explaining how Reagan came to these "rebellious" views. His path was crooked indeed, twisting and turning through a cast of characters and series of incidents that will be familiar to few readers. Much has been written about the end of the Cold War. But Mann succeeds in telling a new story, one centered on the people who ended it–Ronald Reagan and Mikhail Gorbachev.

[Crossposted from New Books in History] If you ask most Americans when the U.S. became heavily involved in the Persian Gulf, they might cite the Iranian Hostage Crisis of 1981 or, more probably, the First Gulf War of 1990. Of course the roots of American entanglement in the region run much deeper, as W. Taylor Fain shows in his excellent new book American Ascendance and British Retreat in the Persian Gulf Region (Palgrave-Macmillan, 2008). Beginning in the 18th century, the British began to do in the Gulf what the British did in those days: build their empire. British dominance in the region lasted as long as Britain did as a Great Power, that is, until about 1945. At that point, a power vacuum of sorts developed. What is perhaps most interesting about Fain's book is that the U.S.–which had had strong commercial ties to several Gulf states for decades–was not terribly eager to get politically involved. Britain had significant military assets in the region; the U.S. did not. Britain needed the oil; the U.S. at that time did not. Britain wanted to blunt the forces of Arab nationalism; the U.S. had a rather more favorable attitude toward "self-determination." The Brits did their best to play up the "special relationship," but it just wasn't "special" enough to get the U.S. involved in what seemed to be a plainly imperial endeavor. Americans just aren't very good at imperialism–they have no stomach for it.  In the end, it wasn't the British who convinced the U.S. to take a strong hand in Gulf affairs, but the Soviets, or rather the fear of the Soviets. The strange cocktail of pan-Arab nationalism and international socialism convinced American policymakers that vital U.S. interests were being threatened in some very out-of-the-way places. Thus the U.S. developed new "special relationships" in the region, notably with Saudi Arabia, Israel and Iran–an odd group if ever there were one! So "special" were these ties that they eventually drew the U.S. into war and, recently, occupation. The British empire, so it is said, was built in a "fit of absent mindedness." The American empire in the Gulf was built against better judgment. Please become a fan of "New Books in Foreign Policy" on Facebook if you haven't already.

[Crossposted from New Books in History] Historians are by their nature public intellectuals because they are intellectuals who write about, well, the public. Alas, many historians seem to forget the "public" part and concentrate on the "intellectual" part. Our guest today–sponsored by the National History Center–is not among them. Julian Zelizer has used his historical research and writing to inform the public and public debate in a great variety of fora: magazines, newspapers, online outlets, radio, TV–and now New Books in History. Today we'll be talking about his efforts to bring the historian's voice to the public and his most recent book Arsenal of Democracy: The Politics of National Security From WWII to the War on Terrorism (Basic Books, 2010) (which itself is a contribution to that effort). The book proves that in the U.S. politics does not "stop at the water's edge"–not now, not ever. From the very beginning of the Republic, American foreign policy has been informed by a subtle mix of electoral politics, ideology, and institutional infighting. Julian's book focuses on the most recent episode in this long story–the period from the Second World War to the present. He shows that politics plain and simple had a powerful effect on the major foreign policy decisions of the era: Korea, the Cuban Missile Crisis, Vietnam, Reagan's volte-face on disarmament, the First Gulf War, and the Second. It is, Julian says, in the nature of our political culture to cross swords and break lances over issues of foreign policy. Never truer words… We also discuss the History News Network and the History News Service. Their webpages can be found here and here. Please become a fan of "New Books in Foreign Policy" on Facebook if you haven't already.

[Crossposted from New Books in History] I met George Kennan twice, once in 1982 and again in about 1998. On both occasions, I found him tough to read. He was a very dignified man–I want to write "correct"–but also quite distant, even cerebral. Now that I've read Nicholas Thompson's very writerly and engaging The Hawk and the Dove: Paul Nitze, George Kennan, and the History of the Cold War (Henry Holt, 2010) I can see that my impressions were largely correct. He was distant, cerebral, and, well, a bit hard to read. Not so the other protagonist in Thompson's tale of two key personalities of the Cold War. Paul Nitze–who was Thompson's grandfather–was a sort of "hail fellow well met," the kind of backslapping, can-do guy that Americans like to think characterizes the "American Spirit." Thompson skillfully weaves Kennan's ying and Nitze's yang into the story of America's long struggle to come to terms with the Soviet Union and its "ambitions" (or lack thereof). In my humble opinion, Nitze comes off a bit better than Kennan, and not because of any bias on the author's part; he's quite even-handed. But they were both remarkable figures, and the book is a suitable testament to their achievements (and, I'm quick to add, foibles). The world they lived in–a time when a few ambitious men who had gone to the right schools, met the right people, and were given the power to chart the nation's course–is largely gone. We're fortunate that Thompson has so admirably brought it, and the world it made, back to life. Please become a fan of "New Books in Foreign Policy" on Facebook if you haven't already.

[Crossposted from New Books in History] My Midwestern high school was pretty typical. There were freaks, geeks, jocks, drama-types. Some were white. And some were black. All were recognizably "American." The only unusual thing about Wichita Southeast was the presence of a reasonably large number of Vietnamese. That's right, Vietnamese. We didn't know what to think of them. We didn't mingle with them nor they with us. They had their own classes in their own language. And they had come from someplace that we knew about from the news, or perhaps from a father who had served in "the War." In hindsight, Southeast wasn't that unusual in this regard.  As Carl Bon Tempo shows in his engaging Americans at the Gates: The United States and Refugees during the Cold War (Princeton UP, 2008), communities throughout the U.S. were destination points for refugees from all over the world during the Cold War. Some of them fled war, as in the case of the Vietnamese. Others fled oppression, as in the case of the Cubans.  Still others were opportunists. But all of them were being used by or using American power in a game that was deeply entangled in the U.S. confrontation with Communism. Look around. You'll see them, just as I did at Southeast. Now, as the Iraq war winds down (we hope), we'll see a new group of refugees coming to American produced by another kind of conflict, the war against terrorism. As he decides what to do with them, I hope Barack Obama reads this book to get the benefit of history. I hope you read it as well. Please become a fan of "New Books in Foreign Policy" on Facebook if you haven't already.

[Crossposted from New Books in History] There is just something about Fidel Castro that American presidents don't like very much. Maybe it's the long-winded anti-American diatribes. Maybe it's the strident communism (to which he came rather late, truth be told ). Maybe it's the beard. In any event, it's clear that Eisenhower, JFK, and Johnson held personal grudges against the Cuban generalissimo. In fact, they all tried to kill him, as Howard Jones shows in his masterful The Bay of Pigs (Oxford, 2008). If you think the Bush administration's foreign policy is ham-fisted, you really need to read this book. The Bay of Pigs makes it seem as if Kennedy's "best and brightest" couldn't have successfully organized a bake sale, let alone an invasion. The CIA got the intelligence wrong, the Joint Chiefs fouled up the military planning, and executive branch was living in bizarro world. Sound familiar? I would laugh, but the fact of the matter is that Kennedy and his crew left 1200 exiles–patriots all–to die on the Playa Girón. There are lessons here, if any one cares to draw them. Thanks to Howard Jones for bringing them to our attention when we need them most. Please become a fan of "New Books in Foreign Policy" on Facebook if you haven't already.

[Crossposted from New Books in History] To Americans, Hitler et al. were a confusing bunch. The National Socialists were Germans, and Germans had a reputation for refinement, industry, and order. After all, many Americans were of German descent, and they surely thought of themselves as refined, industrious, and orderly. The Nazis, however, seemed un-German in important ways: they were, apparently, racist thugs bent on destroying democracy, conquering Europe, and murdering millions of innocents in the name of "purity."  If the Nazis weren't Germans, who were they? If the Nazis were Germans–that is, had somehow sprung out of deeply German cultural roots–then who were the Germans? As Michaela Hoenicke points out in her fascinating book Know Your Enemy. American Debate on Nazism, 1933-1945 (Cambridge UP, 2009), Americans high and low thought a lot about these questions before and during the war. Their answers, as you will see, were not entirely consistent. Sometimes the Americans took the "Good German" line seriously and said that the Nazis were insane bandits who had hijacked Germany. Sometimes they identified the Nazis with the Germans, arguing that Nazism had deep roots in German culture. And at still other times they just threw up their hands.  The wonderful thing about this book is that it doesn't pretend there was a monolithic "American view of the Nazis." Instead, it demonstrates that there were a great variety of competing interpretations.  The "American view of the Nazis" depended on the American you asked (FDR or a St. Louis dock worker?), what that American knew (or thought she knew), and when you put the question (1941?, 1942?, 1943?). In hindsight, it seems like "we" (meaning Americans) always understood that the Nazis were evil to the core and enjoyed considerable support among the "Good German" people. But things weren't so clear in the rush of events between 1933 and 1945. This is an excellent book, and one that should be widely read by those interested in American foreign policy, American understanding of parts foreign, and World War II. Please become a fan of "New Books in Foreign Policy" on Facebook if you haven't already.

[Crossposted from New Books in History] Gordon Brown, the British PM, came calling to Washington recently. He jumped the pond, of course, to have a chat with his new counterpart, President Barack Obama. They had a lot to talk about, what with the world economy melting down, the Afghan War heating up, and Iraq coming apart. But he had another purpose as well. In his speech before Congress Mr. Brown intoned: "Madam Speaker, Mr Vice-President, I come in friendship to renew, for new times, our special relationship founded upon our shared history, our shared values and, I believe, our shared futures." The "special relationship," that's what Churchill called it and every PM and President since has followed his lead. But what exactly is "special relationship," and how has it and does it impact British and American politics and policy? The answer is found in Robert Hendershot's insightful new book Family Spats: Perception, Illusion and Sentimentality in the Anglo-American Special Relationship (VDM Verlag, 2008). Hendershot points out that foreign policy is not only about cold, self-interested costs and benefits–it's also about feeling. In this case, it's about the feeling among policy elites and national populations that they enjoy some deep cultural bond. This peculiar attachment mattered: Hendershot shows that even where British and American interests collided (for example in the Suez Crisis and the Vietnam War), British and American politicians were compelled by popular sentiment to downplay their differences. The special relationship–though based on nothing but a kind of transnational camaraderie–has proven remarkably resilient. Even today we can see it in operation, for example in Brown's speech but more forcefully in the British commitment to the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. For whatever reason, American and British national identities are intertwined. "We" are the people who love the British and "they" are the people who love the Americans–apparently for better and for worse in sickness and in health, until, well, something really awful happens. Please become a fan of "New Books in Foreign Policy" on Facebook if you haven't already.