Dereliction of Duty by H.R. McMaster
Dereliction of Duty is one of those books that I would give
a grade of A+ to the first half of the book; but a D- to the second half. So about a ‘B’ overall. There have already
been so many books about the Vietnam war; both the war itself and the politics
behind it. The first question one should ask is “Is there really anything new
that we haven’t read before?” In a
sense, you could argue that this book does fill somewhat of a void in the
unpleasant history. The bulk of this book takes place in the years 1964 and
1965; when things were just starting to heat up and the country hadn’t yet been
exposed to ubiquitous peace rallies, sabotaged presidential conventions, and
Woodstock. For me, this was the overall
problem of the book though. It didn’t seem necessary to spend so much time and
effort focusing on these two years alone. Yes, these years are important and,
yes, this is where the tiger started to become too hard to tame, but there’s
simply too much minutiae here. There
comes a point where it’s not necessarily enjoyable to read about every single
thing that was said by every single member of LBJ’s cabinet and/or the Joint
Chiefs of Staff.
This book, as I mentioned, starts off wonderfully. It does a
brilliant job setting the stage of how and why the U.S. got involved in Viet
Nam in the first place. Contrary to what Oliver Stone might tell you, Viet Nam
was very much John F. Kennedy’s idea. Kennedy wasn’t a peace monger who was
slayed by the establishment so Lyndon Johnson could appease his rich government
contract friends. No, Kennedy is the one
who first got us in the mess. To be
fair, I think had Kennedy had lived, he would have done much better job than his
successor and the outcome probably would have been much more favorable. But one
can truthfully only speculate on such matters.
If we’re going to place blame or credit, let’s blame and credit people
for their real actions, not their imagined ones.
We also read about how Kennedy learned the hard way not to
trust the military heads of the Joint Chiefs of Staff (see: Bay of Pigs). He quickly changed protocol and instead
learned to rely on his cabinet and closest advisors in military matters who
did, in fact, do a much better job for their Commander in Chief (see: Cuban
Missile Crisis). So when Lyndon Baines Johnson unexpectedly becomes the
nation’s 34th president, it shouldn’t shock many that LBJ kept the
same system in place. In fact, the
majority of Kennedy’s advisors and cabinet stayed on board once Johnson took
over the reins.
Unfortunately for Johnson, he really didn’t know how to lead
a country. He was used to wheeling and dealing in the halls of congress and
generally worked through intimidation and palm-greasing. He could very easily state something as
“fact” before the case, and then quickly manipulate those surrounding him to
make such facts come true. This works if
you’re an influential senator, but not as president of a democratic country involved
in an unfamiliar Asiatic war. Truth be
told, the war was more of a nuisance to LBJ than anything. He wanted to place his primary focus on his
“Great Society”. So Viet Nam almost
became a means to an end for his other priorities of his administration. We then must remember that when Johnson
became president, he had roughly less than one year before the election of
1964. So the main priority of his first
year in office was ensuring he would get to remain in office come November. Therefore, Viet Nam had to be kept out of the
headlines as much as possible.
So the bulk of this book is Johnson and his cabinet
strategizing one way, and the Joint Chiefs of Staff vehemently opposed to these
plans. Since the chiefs are basically
ignored or given limited opportunity to express their doubts, this allows
Johnson to do what he had always done as a career politician: shout his opinion
and made sure everyone around him agreed with him, or face dire consequences of being kicked out
of his inner circle (see: Humbert Humphrey).
All of this really does make good, interesting reading, yet once we get
about halfway through the book, we feel we’re reading the same stories and the
same arguments over and over (and over) again.
So why does this book end in 1965 and not ‘continue’? To be fair, I’m glad it did as I was really
worn out by the end of the book. It
seems that the author could have kept his thesis intact, shortened the detailed
years of 1964-65, and then continued with key events of 1966 through 1968
instead. For me, this would have produced a more satisfying read. It was simply too tedious for me to read so
many details of who said what to whom in the mentioned limited timeframe of two
years.
Another point of irony: this book contains an epilogue. I always thought ‘epilogue’ meant something
like “this is what happened next”, yet for this book the epilogue was mostly a
summary of everything we had already read!
The author simply takes his long dissertation and quickly encapsulates
it at the end. This leads me to wonder
why he couldn’t practice such measures of ‘summarizing’ throughout his entire
book instead of including it in a so-called ‘epilogue’.
Still, as I said earlier, the first half of the book really
is stellar, and I probably used my e-reader highlighting tool to draw attention
to well over 100 key statements made by those embroiled in the thick of things.
I guess if you really like detail, you’ll love this book. Personally, I prefer my history to be a bit
more concise and summarized.
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