Fans pick 100 books like Circle in the Sand

Paradoxically, my thoughts on the decline of U.S. diplomacy begin with the superb biography of James A. Baker by Peter Baker (no relation) and Susan Glasser.  Many believe Baker was the best secretary of state ever. He presided over the collapse of the Soviet Union, the reunification of Germany, our muscular response to Saddam’s invasion of Kuwait, and the reinvigoration of the Middle East peace process  I personally witnessed Baker’s impressive negotiating skills in Riyadh. Baker did not begin with a favorable impression of the Foreign Service, and he did not leave it a better place. Unlike George Shultz who relied on Foreign Service professionals, he brought his own team with him. He replaced the entire leadership of the Middle East bureau, a center of excellence under Shultz.  

This book entertains while recounting the militarization of our foreign policy. Post-retirement, I worked briefly for the Coalition Provisional Authority in Iraq and later as a contractor helping to train military units headed for Iraq and Afghanistan. Our professional military is a superb fighting machine but the decisions to invade Iraq and Afghanistan inevitably resulted in challenges diplomats and development workers are best equipped to handle. The budget-slashing reinvention of government during the Clinton years meant there weren’t enough trained civilians to handle existing priorities much less a surge to rebuild Iraq and Afghanistan. As Rosa Brooks writes, from the perspective of both an insider and a superb reporter, the military became everything. The military had the money while civilian agencies like State and USAID were underfunded.

Richter recounts the stories of four extraordinary professional diplomats who served post 9/11 and are role models for the diplomats of the future. Anne Patterson, U.S. ambassador in Egypt and Pakistan, worked for me briefly in Washington and Riyadh. I crossed paths with Ryan Crocker, U.S. ambassador in Iraq and Afghanistan, many times in Washington, Baghdad, and elsewhere. I met Chris Stevens once before he became U.S. ambassador in Libya. The political exploitation of his death was outrageous. I didn’t know Robert Ford, who resigned in frustration over U.S. policy toward Syria. They were sent to dangerous and unstable places. Diplomacy can be risky. They had to work closely were their military counterparts. They experienced the frustration of advising Washington politicians who lack both understanding and a willingness to listen. 

As good as the professionals in Richter’s book were, Bill Burns might be the best role model. He served as U.S. ambassador in Moscow. He became Deputy Secretary of State and was instrumental in negotiating the Iran nuclear agreement. Now CIA Director, I suspect he orchestrated the release of intelligence on Russia’s plans which led to a unified NATO response to the invasion of Ukraine. I first met Bill, then a junior officer, in Amman, and knew he was headed for great things. Although he had misgivings about our policies toward Iraq, Russia, and Syria, sadly, his dissent was ignored. He wonders in The Back Channel whether he should have resigned. Happily, he is back in government where his ideas for renewing American diplomacy might get a better reception.  

I would not be the historian or social critic I am today without the guidance of the scholarship of Stephen Kinzer. From his prolific histories about Iran or the Middle East more broadly to his courageous dissection of the international crimes of the CIA, Kinzer’s views on American foreign policy are as relevant as they are important for the development of a complete worldview of contemporary international politics.

In this book, Kinzer brings all of these tools to bear in demonstrating how, time and again, the United States pursued selfish interests to the detriment of millions around the globe, usually with power and riches subsequently being shifted into the hands of American political elites.

Kinzer’s book is informative, provocative, and engaging and, therefore, makes for a necessary companion to my own work in this field. 

Saddam Hussein – the dictator of Iraq – was the West’s defining turn-of-the-century uber-villain, an image which this book overturns on a deeply personal level. While Saddam is shown to be a monster (he casually laments how his sadistic sons took it a bit far), he nonetheless somehow wins the compassion of his American captors who fall to blubbering pieces as he proceeds to the gallows.

I’ve always paired this book with Promised Land, Crusader State, not only because Mead is such an elegant writer, but I don’t think anyone surpasses him at explaining how and why we lurch back and forth between foreign policies. Mead’s account made such an impression on me when I first read it that it’s left me in a quandary ever since.

If I could recommend only one of these two books to time-strapped officers, which would benefit them more? Here is where, like a good academic, I always punted and told everyone to read both.     

The siege of Mecca in 1979 was one of the most consequential events in recent Saudi history. This book reads like a thriller, which makes sense because anyone familiar with Trofimov's work at the Wall Street Journal knows that he is a gifted storyteller and insightful analyst. The book provides context to the worldview that gave rise to al Qaeda.

London-based Professor Al-Rasheed combines the objectivity of an academic with years of criticism of the House of Saud, and her consequent life in exile. One assumes the title is an allusion to Louis XIV of France who ruled for 72 years. A tougher read than the journalistic flows of the other books listed here, it is nevertheless very solid and perceptive.

In 1945 Alireza married a member of a prominent Saudi family and went to live with him in his extended family. She recounts her experience living mainly in the company of the women of the family. Over 12 years and the birth of four children, she grows close to her Arabian family and learns to live according to their customs. The reader becomes immersed in Saudi culture in a way not easily available to an outsider and feels the same sadness as Marianne when ultimately her husband divorces her and she has to leave the family she has grown to love.