Frederick Law Olmstead travelled extensively throughout the south during the antebellum period, as reflected in this book. He considered the effects of slavery on both blacks and whites and found it to have pernicious effects on both. Although written prior to the Civil War, the book (actually a series of extensive selections from the three original volumes based on his newspaper articles written during his travels)provides a rather indepth and refreshing look at well-known history and looks at the diverse roles played by blacks, white southerners, (and northerners!) in slavery. He also examines their views on the slave issue itself: some nascent Southern abolitionists and colonialists, as well as advocates of slavery, appeared rather intelligent and some otherwise. Many considered slavery an insoluble problem and others defended it as a necessary evil which benefitted blacks and whites alike(!). After completing his tour (including a rather interesting situation in which a black slave seriously injures a biracial runaway, has him clapped in irons and sent to jail - much to the amusement of some white southerners - & an enlightening discussion, especially in light of Talty's research showing persons of pure white descent, including adult foreigners and children who were originally indentured were kidnapped or illegally sold into slavery, of how demeanor would be an adequate determinant of whether or not a "white" slave was really free or not), he provides a critical analysis of slavery and its effects on the south.

I'm in 7th grade and found this book helpful in getting an overview of Ataturk's accomplishments. It helped me to decide where to research further. The pictures were good. It's a little hard to find books (and websites) about him written in English, but this is a good one.

An incredibly well-researched reference, layed out beautifully, enhanced with photos of funny and fascinating political memorabilia; informative, as well as entertaining and lively. A great addition to any school or general library, or to the collection of any avid student or fan of American political and popular culture.

If you read between the lines of this juvenile biography of "Thomas Paine: Political Writer," then you will learn not only that his pamphlet "Common Sense" was the spark that propelled the declaration of American independence, but that throughout his life his writing made a lot of people very angry. Bruce and Becky Durost Fish fill in a lot of the gaps in the life of young Thomas Paine with suppositions about what it was like growing up in England at that time. We really do not get a sense for how Paine became the man he did, capable of writing the single most important pamphlet in American History. I am not sure if this is because of the delicacy of the subject matter or because they writing level on this particular book is geared lower than others in this series. There is certainly something to the idea that Paine was light the nova of the time, who suddenly burst on the scene with the words that swung the momentum irrevocably towards independence and separation from Great Britain. Young readers will learn about the ups and downs on Paine's life, which at one point saw him flee from political foes in the United States, charged with treason by the British government, and imprisoned by the fanatical leaders of the French Revolution. It is rather astounding that Paine would end up dying an old man in his bed given the antagonism he provoked in so many people.

I would have liked to have seen a bit more of Paine's writing actually make it into this book; his rhetoric is usually reduced to a few choice sentences, as it is here. Even when the famous opening of "The American Crisis" is quoted, we get only the first clause and not even the entire sentence. This matters because with Thomas Paine what he wrote was so much more important than anything else he ever did in his life. Of course, like the Declaration of Independence, "Common Sense" and "The American Crisis" are honored today with very few people ever bothering to read them in their entirety. This book is illustrated with historic paintings and engravings, some of which are of Paine, as well as a reproduction of the frontispiece of "Common Sense." Other titles in the Revolutionary War Leaders series include Patrick Henry, Thomas Jefferson, John Paul Jones, and George Washington. While Benjamin Franklin is included in the related Colonial Leaders series, I want to note that John Adams is regrettably missing from both.

...Which pave the road to mediocrity, a writer's hell. Though it isn't terrible, "Democracy" is little more than a could-have-been in all respects. It has interesting ideas and competent writing, so the potential was there. The problem, as is so often the case, is in the novel's execution.

The idea that power corrupts is an old one, and it is obviously the main point of Henry Adams' novel. His intention seems to be to portray the lengths to which those in power will go to acquire more power, and how the lust for power is certain to deaden one's sense of morality. Unfortunately, Adams would have done better to write an essay on the subject rather than attempt to weave it into a fictional novel, for the author waxes too moralistic on his theme, rather than stepping back and allowing the characters to make his point for him. This does more harm than simply annoying the reader with value judgments; the story itself becomes so transparent and predictable, that it seems a mere vehicle for what soon becomes a tiresome refrain.

Perhaps this is why the characters are so lamentably flat. The descriptions Adams writes for each character seem to foreshadow complexity and development, but this soon is proven to be a false impression. Interesting as the characters might have been from their descriptions, when push comes to shove and the story continues, they remain utterly devoid of personality. Ironically, the main characters, Madeleine and Ratcliffe, are probably the most thinly developed of the entire bunch; the supporting cast is slightly more interesting, but not by much.

Another annoyance is the implausible thinking and actions of so many of the characters; for Madeleine to contemplate marrying Ratcliffe for her sister's sake is simply ridiculous. The fact that she considers her life at an end at age thirty is equally implausible, as is Sybil's attitude of careless youth at age twenty-five: in the nineteenth century, any woman of that age who was yet unmarried would have been considered an old maid, yet that is never even hinted at.

Perhaps the worst of it all was the pacing: this 300+ page book could have EASILY been half its size. It drags along without character development and without even any plot development. Worse yet, the book is centered entirely around politics, yet Adams seems hazy as to the details of those politics. Perhaps Madeleine learned a lot about American politics from her stay in Washington, but very little of this is shared with the reader. As such, the book does not even have an interesting setting to recommend itself.

In the end, it is obvious what Adams was trying to say, but by making Madeleine so careless with regard to Ratcliffe, the author fails utterly. With no temptation, there can be no sacrifice. It is unclear why the reader is expected to admire Madeleine, yet this expectation is clear enough.

To sum up...for a book about government corruption, look elsewhere. There must be something out there better than this. Anything.

"Democracy" is what "Primary Colors" would have been if the latter had been well-written. Like Joe Klein, Adams published his book anonymously and skewered a number of contemporary politicians (including President Rutherford B. Hayes). But Adams goes two steps further: his novel is a scathing commentary more on the American political system in general than on one administration in particular, and his characters are iconic and recognizable in any era.

In "Democracy," the nation's capital "swarms with simple-minded exhibitions of human nature; men and women curiously out of place, whom it would be cruel to ridicule and ridiculous to weep over." But Adams is not hesitant about being cruel in his portrayal of Washington's residents, and he saves his weeping for the true victims in his novel: the American people. The typical American senator combines "the utmost pragmatical self-assurance and overbearing temper with the narrowest education and meanest personal experience that ever existed in any considerable government." (Plus ca change, plus c'est la meme chose!)

The story concerns Madeleine Lee, an intelligent and well-meaning (if somewhat naive) New York widow, who, bored with her cosmopolitan lifestyle, travels to Washington to learn what makes the nation tick. She and her sister are quickly surrounded by a diverse group of politicians, lobbyists, and foreign diplomats, and she finds herself courted by Silas Ratcliffe, a senator with presidential aspirations whose talent "consisted in the skill with which he evaded questions of principle." During one heated (and humorous) argument about George Washington's merits, Ratcliffe sums up his view of politics: "If virtue won't answer our purpose, then we must use vice, or our opponents will put us out of office."

Adams's prose is almost Jamesian in its measured pacing (and this may simply bore some readers); the initial chapters are unhurried as he weaves the web of the plot and sketches his all-too-believable characters. Along the way he tosses barbed zingers at every target. The climactic passages are among the most comically riveting, emotionally intense, and morally satisfying finales I've read in a satire: as you might expect, nobody gets exactly what they want, but everyone gets what they deserve.

To act with entire honesty and self-respect, one should always live in a pure atmosphere, and the atmosphere of politics is impure. -Senator Silas Ratcliffe, Democracy

In his own lifetime, Henry Adams was famous first for being the grandson of John Quincy Adams, thus the great grandson of John Adams; second for his epic History of the United States During the Jefferson and Madison Administrations. It was only upon his death, in 1918, that his third person autobiography, The Education of Henry Adams, was published and that his publisher revealed that Adams had written the previously anonymous novel Democracy. It is The Education which has sustained his reputation, having been named the number one book on the Modern Library list of the Top 100 Nonfiction Books of the 20th Century, but Democracy is still considered one of the better novels of American politics, though surprisingly it is currently out of print.

The novel is both a fairly typical 19th Century comedy of manners--with the widow Madeleine Lee decamping from New York to Washington DC, where she instantly becomes one of the Capital's most desirable catches--and a more serious meditation on the nature and pursuit of power in the American democracy. The widow Lee is specifically interested in Washington because it is the seat of power :

...she was bent upon getting to the heart of the great American mystery of democracy and government.

. . .

What she wished to see, she thought, was the clash of interests, the interests of forty millions of people and a whole continent, centering at Washington; guided, restrained, controlled, or unrestrained and uncontrollable, by men of ordinary mould; the tremendous forces of government, and the machinery of society at work. What she wanted was POWER.

Mrs. Lee's most likely pursuer is Senator Silas Ratcliffe of Illinois, widely considered a likely future President : he sees her as a perfect First Lady and she sees him as her path to power. Through an elaborate courtship ritual and several set piece scenes (in the Senate, at the White House, at Mount Vernon, at Arlington Cemetery and at a dress ball) Adams puts his characters through their paces and affords the reader an intimate look at the rather tawdry political milieu of the 1870's. The theme that runs throughout the story is that access to power comes only through compromising one's principles, but Adams is sufficiently ambivalent about the point that we're uncertain whether he's more contemptuous of those who make the necessary deals or those who, by staying "pure," sacrifice the opportunity to influence affairs of state. Suffice it to say that the novel ends with Mrs. Lee, assumed by most critics to represent Adams himself, fleeing to Egypt, telling her sister : "Democracy has shaken my nerves to pieces."

Like his presidential forebears, Henry Adams had a realistic and therefore jaundiced view of politics, even as practiced in a democracy. The Adams's did not subscribe to the starry eyed idealism of the Jeffersonians. But they were all drawn to politics, even realizing that it was a moral quagmire. This is the fundamental dilemma of the conservative democrat, we recognize that we have to govern ourselves because we know we can't trust unelected rulers, but we also understand that our elected representatives are unlikely to be any more honest than the tyrants we threw out. This attitude is famously captured in Winston Churchill's (alleged) aphorism : "Democracy: the worst of all possible systems, but there is no other which would be better." And the unfortunate corollary is that unless relatively honorable men like the Adamses and the Churchills pursue careers in politics, the field will be left to the real scoundrels. Henry Adams doesn't offer any solutions to the dilemma, but he offers an amusing take on it.

GRADE : B

When, as a young man, Arthur Schlesinger, Jr. published "The Age of Jackson" he gave us an insightful volume about the founder of the modern Democratic party, and of the critical generation of U.S. History that followed the presidencies of Madison and Monroe, and preceded the woefully incompetent administrations that helped to precipitate the Civil War. From the vantage point of the year 2000, it is easy to criticize the author for failing to take Jackson to task for his vile policy toward native Americans. It is also much harder for intelligent Americans of today to understand the merits of Jackson's opposition to the Bank of the United States. But his opposition to the Bank of the United States was derived from a populist streak that makes liberals cheer, and his position on other major issues justifies the honors bestowed on him by today's Democrats (just as Republicans have "Lincoln Day" dinners to annually honor their party's best President, Democrats have "Jefferson-Jackson Day" dinners to honor their party's two founders).

"The Age of Jackson" is probably the second place that all college history students should turn to, as they study pre-Civil War America, second only to getting the raw outline of events from their required textbook. Of course, the Schlesinger book is no longer the final place for the student's research; more recent, albeit less well-written works must be studied as well. Still, historians would be hard-pressed to ignore this classic.

I found it very hard to rate this book. In the end, I chose between three and four stars, and went with four. But, at various times, I considered everything from two to five.

This book has several serious problems. The most important is the incredible bias of the author. This bias is evident, to some extent, throughout the book, where Schlesinger's very liberal views taint almost everything he discusses. The last section of the book is particularly outrageous. It is, essentially, a very biased, distorted attack on legitimate policy views held by some moderates and conservatives. (By the way, I am not an arch-conservative; I'm a moderate who agrees with Schlesinger on many political and policy issues, but who doesn't think they should warp his account of history so much.)

Still, the book is a classic, and not without reason. It's well-written (unlike a lot of history I've been reading lately), lucid, and thoughtful. The story of Jackson and the politics of the first half of the 19th century is fascinating and very important to ones understanding of the development of the U.S. At the time at which this book was written, it advanced significantly our understanding of Jackson and this period -- even if subsequent research and analysis has improved on it. And, it's a good read.

So, I recommend this book as long as you go into it knowing its weaknesses and understanding that a lot in it is colored by Schlesinger's own political views.

As has been pointed out by other reviewers, Schlesinger's work is essentially an all-out assault on conservatism in American politics masked as a history of Jacksonian America. Not an attack on the "conservative" position on this or that topic, mind you. Rather, he argues that there is some sort of innate dark side in America - the conservatives - that has consistently and relentlessly tried to deprive society of freedom and liberty at every turn.

Schlesinger twists and bends and stretches American history in his attempt to show how the national saving grace of liberalism has continued in one uninterrupted line from Jefferson to Jackson to Lincoln to Wilson and, finally, to FDR, even though the issues, parties and arguments have changed radically. (Had this book been published in the late- rather the mid-twentieth century, I'm sure the author would have demonstrated the role Johnson, Carter and Clinton played in that continuum.)

Schlesinger saves his most impressive feat of historical casuistry for explaining how and why the Democratic Party wasn't "really" the political party of slavery and oppression. By 1848, in Schlesinger's analysis, the two central parties, Democrat and Whig, existed in name only. All the radical (read "truly liberal") elements of the Jacksonian tradition had joined the Republican Party by 1858 (conveniently allowing them to take credit for the Civil War and destroying American bondage), but were back in the Democratic Party by the time big business usurped the GOP during and after Reconstruction.

With such a contemptuous and sarcastic review, you might be wondering "so why the 4 stars"?

Well, it has been said that the field of economics progresses one funeral at a time - and I would argue the same holds true for the study of history. Whatever this book's faults, Arthur M. Schlesinger Jr. is one of the most influential historians of the twentieth century and this book shaped the minds and ideas of a generation of liberal intellectuals, including senior Democratic statesmen. For anyone interested in learning more about Jacksonian America and understanding one popular, albeit controversial, interpretation of its roots in modern American liberalism, this book is essential reading.

I read this "biography" years ago, and while I would agree that Schlesinger is a fine writer, I completely disagree with the views of several of the posters here...in fact, I find their reasoning for liking this book to be rather "odd". Both posters agree that Schlesinger is terribly biased (he literally fawns over JFK, and has spent his entire career since the sixties as a Kennedy flack). They also agree that he constantly injects himself into what is supposed to be a "biography" of John F. Kennedy, not a biography of Arthur Schlesinger (he's working on that at the present), and that he (Schlesinger) greatly overstates his own role in the events of the JFK era. Yet, these posters still insist that this book offers "valuable" insights into the Kennedy Presidency. Given this book's flaws, I find that to be a dubious assertion. To be considered an accurate portrait of the leader it studies, a biography should as objective, impartial, and fair-minded as possible. "A Thousand Days", however well-written, actually belongs to the mid-sixties wave of Kennedy "nostalgia" books which were rushed into print by Kennedy's former aides and supporters in the wake of the assassination. Today these books are referred to by most historians as the "court histories", because they overlook any flaws in JFK's Presidency and immortalize the man (and, as a more objective reviewer noted, the "Camelot" myth owes a great debt to this book). This book's defenders should read Gore Vidal's hilarious piece entitled "The Holy Family" in a 1967 issue of "Esquire" magazine. Vidal, the famed novelist, is a distant relative of Jackie Kennedy, yet this didn't stop him from referring to "A Thousand Days" as the "best political novel since Coningsby", and to the "court histories" books by Arthur Schlesinger and other Kennedy aides as "the Gospel according to Arthur, Paul, Pierre...and several minor apostles". And that assessment aptly sums up "A Thousand Days" - as a hagiography or publicity piece (for Schlesinger and JFK) it's marvelous. But as accurate, objective, and fair-minded history it's hopeless. In my opinion, the best book written to date on Kennedy's brief Presidency is Richard Reeves's "President Kennedy: Profile of Power". It shows JFK as he really was - warts and all - without the embarrassing sentimentality, biased reporting, and rose-colored glasses of Schlesinger and other Kennedy family flacks. Bottom line: if you read "A Thousand Days" be prepared for some excellent writing and moving passages, but please remember that what you're reading comes closer to historical fiction than historical fact.

Before I type anything else, I will dispense with the obvious: this book is so pro- Kennedy that it makes people angry. The author hero worshipped the Kennedys, a fact that is not well hidden in any of his books. He also does quite a bit of name dropping, and he overplays his own importance in key events. No one denies this. In some of the reviews of this book, one can almost feel the flecks of spit coming from the mouths of the reviewer. I mean no offense with that remark, but I find it humorous that people can get so worked up about the Camelot myth.
Despite the bias, A Thousand Days is a valuable insight into the Kennedy administration. As one critic said: "the president walks through the pages, from first to last, alert, alive, amused and amusing." The way the members of the administration come alive in this book has been unequaled in any other book on the Kennedys. On top of that, it is incredibly well written, and very detailed. It is not the only book one should read on the Kennedys, but it should not be overlooked either.

This book has won a Pullitzer and National Book Award for good reason. Unlike most political biographers, Schlesinger provides a detailed and interesting analysis of his subject's policy decisions. We don't get a detailed accounting of what Kennedy has for breakfast, but we do get an understanding of Kennedy's decision making process and how it related to the numerous issues with which he was confronted.

Many of the customer reviewers criticized Schlesinger for his bias in Thousand Days. It is true that nothing that Kennedy does in Thousand Days is wrong, and nothing that Eisenhower did was right. In the 1030 pages of Thousand Days, the reader is hardpressed to find a single critical comment about Kennedy. There are certainly plenty of excuses, as well as repetitive references to the "seeds" of legislative programs sown by Kennedy that would inevitably (as implied by Schlesinger) revolutionized the US. However, Schlesinger did not attempt to hide this bias -- he was obviously star struck by the Kennedys and did not purport to give the Republican perspective on the Kennedy administration. In essence, the "bias" is so obvious it is easy to single it out and focus on what Schlesinger has to offer -- a studied and very inspiring first hand account of a presidential term from one of this country's leading historians.

I have read several dozen presidential biographies and can say that none have provided so much insight into presidential decision making. In a word, this book is "dense", full of ideas, theories and speculation about the workings of the executive branch when confronted with some of the greatest challenges of our time -- including the cold war, the Cuban missile crises, Bay of Pigs, civil rights and Vietnam. What's more, it was an absorbing and thought provoking read. A little more critical analysis of Kennedy may have been more illuminating, but this type of analysis may well have robbed Thousand Days of the passion that makes it so interesting and inspiring. Kennedy, after all, was an interesting and inspiring president. Perhaps the most effective way to portray the man, therefore, is with a biography that is interesting and inspiring.

I wish I could rate this book with no stars! It's full of mistakes, inaccuracies and incorrect assumptions. The book cover depicts a picture of the Shah next to the flag of the Islamic Republic of Iran. This would be the same as putting the picture of President Bush next to the flag of the Taliban. It's truely an insult.

In addition to the above mistake, the book is riddled with amatuer errors, such as listing Russia as a current neighbor of Iran. Any current map would illustrate that Russia no longer shares a land border with Iran, after the break up of Soviet Union.

There were too many mistakes to keep track, so the overall conclusion is how could one trust the author's reporting who can't even get the basic facts straight.

Despite that I read the book quickly, only to be additionally disappointed by the inability of the author to at least try to understand a nation with 2500 years of written history, of which only the last 24 years are without a king. It's difficult to take any of author's reporting unbiased or culturally sensitive. A great propaganda book for the Islamic Republic of Iran!

I thought this book did a tremendous job of telling the story of a controversial figure without taking sides. I found no factual errors to speak of--the other review posted mentions that the book refers to Iran's border with Russia, but it's referring to it's historic relationship, not it's current status. Propagandists for the Shah and the Pahlavi family will probably be angered by the book's references to the Shah's human rights abuses, but I thought the author did an excellent job of backing up her claims. It's well-written, and it treats it's audience--young adults--with respect. To accuse the author of being pro-Islamist is to completely miss the point of her arguments. She writes passionately about the tragedy that is modern Iranian history, and I highly recommend this book to anyone with an interest in the region.

This is a good book for somone without knowlage of Alexander. I give a solid base for someone to start learning about him. It has a large amount of pictures to help someone visualize what is discussed. The book however lacks some of the more nessary ponts about Alexander's history that made him become such a man of high stature as a leader. If those points were at least mentioned this book would be a perfect starter for a young mind.

I have read all of the books in the "American Presidents" series published thus far, and this is a very disappointing entry in an otherwise great series. Tom Wicker is a journalist, not a historian, and it shows. He merely presents a narrative chronology of Eisenhower's presidency, devoting only a few paragraphs to his life before he entered the Oval Office. In what is essentially a long magazine article, you never learn a thing about Eisenhower as a person, and Eisenhower emerges as a two-dimensional figure, not the fascinating man that he was. Worst of all, Wicker is so one-sided in his coverage, he tries to find fault in even Eisenhower's unmitigated successes. This ends up simply a book-length critique. It is blinkered and one-sided, with no sense of perspective or context. There are many better biogrpahies of Eisenhower available. Skip this one.

I thought I'd present an alternative viewpoint to the obviously irate folks who have written so far. While Wicker's book is far from a complete biography (this series -- and I have read all but the TR volume -- was never intended to be THE definitive account, only an introduction of sorts), it does present Eisenhower's presidency in relatively comprehensive terms. I was left wanting more, but one can take this book, armed with a general outline, and pursue the subject further.

As for the negative tone, I am not offended, nor am I disappointed. There have been plenty of fawning biographies written about Ike (check out any Ambrose volume), so it is only fair that we get a different take. Ike's presidency, like so many, had its shining moments, but also its shame. Wicker correctly identifies Ike's weaknesses, including a tendency to overdelegate and of course, a reluctant, weak-willed enforcement of civil rights laws. It is also important to note that Ike failed to take on that era's most poisonous demagogue, Joseph McCarthy.

Writing a hagiography would be easy given our country's worship of military figures, but this is a political biography. The years from 1953 to 1961 were not perfect, and Wicker understands that the leadership must be held accountable for some of that decade's less admirable turns.

Tom Wicker spent thirty years writing on politics for the New York Times. Having worked as a young reporter in the 1950s, he combines memories of actual events with secondary sources to produce a short, lively monograph on Eisenhower's presidency.

Older readers can remember the media Ike: the winning smile, the bumbling answers at press conferences, the incessant golf. The electorate loved him, but contemporary observers were not impressed. They looked on him as a career soldier who despised politics, leaving handling of foreign policy to the slightly frightening John Foster Dulles and domestic policy to no one at all.

Wicker admits that this was once his view but no longer. However, he adds that Eisenhower's growing reputation owes nothing to domestic affairs. Perhaps his major success in this area was the Interstate Highway Bill of 1955, which is still financing our interstate roads. Trivia buffs note: this was the last major Republican program that required new taxes.

Wicker joins two generations of historians in condemning Eisenhower's refusal to speak out against McCarthy or in favor of civil rights. All agree this was politically astute but morally deplorable.

The 1954 Supreme Court decision on segregation came as an unpleasant shock to Eisenhower, but he was in good company. Most northern officials were lukewarm (an admirable exception was attorney general, Herbert Brownell). Holding racial views similar to Lincoln's, Eisenhower disapproved of mistreating Negroes but believed their capacities did not measure up to those of the white race. Wicker's discussion spends more time on Chief Justice Warren than the president, but it's an eye-opener. Legend gives Warren credit for the decision, but this is wrong. He didn't join the court until the case was nearing its end. On his arrival, it was already 5-4 in favor of desegregation. His accomplishment was convincing opponents to switch their votes. Such a controversial decision required unanimity, Warren pointed out. A split Court would encourage southern resistance, bringing disorder to the country and casting doubt on the Court's legitimacy. Good patriots all, they switched, including the hidebound southern racist, Stanley Reed. Does anyone believe this could happen today?

Among America's long line of political scoundrels, Joseph McCarthy stands out for sheer vulgarity. Many supporters in the Senate including Richard Nixon thought he was slightly creepy. That his wild accusations of rampant communist subversion ruined many careers without turning up any new spies was public knowledge. The New York Times and Washington Post pointed this out. Conservative Time Magazine heaped ridicule on him.

But no elected official dared cross McCarthy. Contemptuous in private, Eisenhower took care never to make his feelings public although newspapers regularly found hints between the lines. The Senate censure in 1954 happened only because of McCarthy's increasingly insulting behavior and a modest decline of anticommunist hysteria. It was a slap on the wrist, and McCarthy remained in charge of his committee, so no one can explain why he suddenly fell silent. Wicker has no explanation, and he concludes with the usual regret that Eisenhower failed to take a courageous moral position.

Historians always attack politicians for refusing to take courageous moral positions, forgetting that doing so is invariably disastrous. Perhaps the greatest example is Lincoln's emancipation proclamation in September 1862. Although a feeble antislavery gesture, it was unpopular in the north. Democrats happily pointed out that Lincoln had converted a war for the union into a war for the Negro, and they crushed Republicans in the election two months later.

Foreign policy is almost entirely responsible for Eisenhower's improving reputation. Even those of us who remember the 1950s forget how close World War III seemed. Many national leaders and several of the Joint Chiefs wanted to get on with it as soon as possible. America's foreign policy seemed in the hands of elderly secretary of state John Foster Dulles, a pugnacious, evangelical who had been lecturing foreigners on American virtues since the Wilson administration. He made almost everyone nervous with enthusiastic talk of liberating eastern Europe, regaining China, and using atomic weapons if provoked excessively. It turns out Dulles was firmly under Eisenhower's thumb, and this rhetoric mellowed as years passed. The president himself was far more peaceable than anyone thought at the time. He gets enough credit for ending the Korean war but too little for refusing to strike back at China's threats to Formosa (his military advisors were raring to go). When he aborted the English-French-Israeli invasion of Egypt in 1956, he was not reading opinion polls. Americans generally approved the invasion.

Most impressive of all, he kept the military firmly under his thumb. Despite the usual 1952 campaign rhetoric about defeating communism, Eisenhower held the defense budget level when he wasn't reducing it. His finest hour (although no one thought so at the time) came after Russia launched Sputnik in 1957. His announcement that orbiting a satellite was not a big deal produced universal dismay. Editorials denounced his short-sightedness; cartoons pictured him with his head in the sand. His poll ratings dropped to their lowest. Despite additional Russian space spectaculars, he did not change his mind, quashing all efforts to launch crash military programs. John F. Kennedy spent much of the 1960 campaign denouncing the administration for underestimating the communist threat, cruelly starving the armed forces, allowing the Russians to achieve military superiority. JFK was a far more aggressive cold warrior than his predecessor.

Like all volumes in the excellent American Presidents series, Wicker's is a quick read: 140 pages. Unlike the others, it's not really a biography. Eisenhower's greatest accomplishment was his meteoric rise to command in WWII after twenty years of obscurity. Winning the presidency was easy by comparison; after all he was the most popular man in the country. Wicker admits this, but he skips over the early life. As an account of his presidency, it breaks no ground but the author's anecdotes and outspoken opinions make it a lively addition to the definitive biographies.