Two important new books explore just what it means to be English -- for an individual, for a nation, and for an erstwhile empire.
Michael Ignatieff's report on ethnic and other bitter mini-wars is evocative but only sporadically illuminating.
The recent troubles of the CIA date back to its early years, when dashing young men toyed with foreign governments. Evan Thomas evokes the time. Jeffrey T. Richelson catalogs the consequences.
In his popular history of U.S. foreign policy, David Fromkin treats American isolationism between the two world wars as the norm, despite evidence to the contrary.
Newly released records show that L.B.J., for all his political canniness and cunning, never managed U.S. foreign policy well-even excluding the Vietnam War.
When the helicopter rose in flight from the roof of the doomed U.S. embassy in Saigon a decade ago, Americans hoped they had finally left Vietnam behind them. For years afterward there was a widespread effort in the United States to put the Indochina experience out of mind. In the late 1970s, Mike Mansfield, the professor of Far Eastern studies who became U.S. Senate majority leader and then ambassador to Japan, told an English radio audience:
Throughout the nineteenth century, Great Britain was obsessed by the fear that one of the other European powers would take advantage of the political decay of Islamic Asia.
A history of terrorism from the Middle Ages onward, with analysis of terrorist strategies -- and how governments can defeat them.
Alliances, we had always felt, were not our sort of thing. They would involve us in obscure quarrels and sordid rivalries which were none of our concern. They seemed to be both undesirable and unnecessary in view of our special geographic and political circumstances.
