Category Archives: Book Review

Reviews of recent and upcoming foreign policy and maritime books of merit.

Book Review: Andrew Gordon’s The Rules of the Game

Gordon, Andrew. The Rules of the Game: Jutland and British Naval Command. Annapolis: Naval Institute Press, 2013, reprint ed. 708pp. $34.95

9780141980324

By Captain Dale Rielage

There is always interest, and usually value, in reading what the boss is reading. Since General Al Gray established the Marine Corps reading list in the late 1980s, reading lists have proliferated across the military services. The Marine Corps Library website lists more than twenty. While the original Marine Corps reading list bore General Gray’s own unique stamp, today most military reading lists feel like the product of a committee – because most are – developed with an eye towards representing every facet and constituency in their institution. What has personally informed and moved a thoughtful warrior, however, is more interesting than the consensus of any committee…which is why, for example, Admiral Stavridis’s reading recommendations are always worth taking aboard. Earlier this month, one of my colleagues made reference to the classic work The Rules of the Game. His comment sent me back to my bookshelf. There, in the recent Naval Institute reprint edition, I noticed an epigraph that escaped my attention years ago:

This edition has been brought to publication with the generous assistance of VADM John M. Richardson, USN, Commander, Submarine Force, and VADM Peter H. Daly, USN (ret.) CEO, US Naval Institute, in the interest of helping put this book in the hands of current and future naval professionals.

It is one thing for a book to make an official reading list, but when the (then) future Chief of Naval Operations is willing to help a book to remain in print, it bears a second look. What any particular senior officer saw in this volume I can only speculate, but a couple lost weekends later, it is clear that Rules of the Game speaks to the most profound challenges facing the U.S. Navy.

On the surface, a 600-plus page (708 pages with notes and appendixes) book about the Battle of Jutland seems an unlikely means to examine the established order of U.S. Navy command and control. The fight between the British Royal Navy and the German High Sea Fleet in the North Sea on 31 May and 1 June 1916 was the largest naval battle of World War I. This epic clash of dreadnought battleships is widely regarded as a draw, with neither side achieving clear victory. Gordon, however, turns the Royal Navy at Jutland into a long case study of the role of doctrine, training, centralization, initiative, and institutions in naval warfare. He begins his analysis as the fleet engagement at Jutland is starting, with the Battle Fleet and the Battle Cruiser Fleet, the two key combat formations that comprised the Royal Navy’s Grand Fleet, getting underway from their respective homeports 200 miles from each other. So good was British naval intelligence in this era that the Grand Fleet weighed anchor in response to a planned German sortie more than four hours before the German High Sea Fleet reached the open sea.

As the narrative arrives at the moment enemy forces are in contact and key tactical decisions are being made, Gordon shifts his view back a century. In a 200 page excursion, he introduces the competing naval schools of thought and the resulting institutional habits and personal relationships that led to the British fleet acting as it did at Jutland.

Britain left the Napoleonic Wars with a navy second to none and a tradition of victory built on the aligned independence of Nelson’s band of brothers. Nelson’s famous flag hoist opening Trafalgar was the last he made during that battle – not because of his death, but because he needed no other. Shortly after the war, however, new visual signaling systems promised increasing control over the movements of forces in combat. In peacetime drills, these systems yielded reliable execution of complex maneuvers. However, the reality of how this signals system would work in combat was lost over decades. In the breach, smoke from engineering and gunnery, signal masts and halyards destroyed by gunfire, signalmen lost to shot and shell, and the sheer volume of communications in a fleet engagement would conspire to negate centralized command and control. The promise of centralized control and effective coordinated combat action, however, produced a deep influence on the Royal Navy.

In what Gordon memorably dubbed “the long lee of Trafalgar,” the Royal Navy continued to dominate the seas. Its officers retained the expectation of victory bequeathed them by their predecessors. That there had been no major fleet action in living memory was discussed, but rarely with concern. The French or Russian navies occasionally caused alarm, but no “peer competitor” called into question the fundamentals of the system – the rules of the game.

There was good reason for this comfort. By almost every metric, the Royal Navy in the second half of the nineteenth century was extraordinarily successful. Its officers were masters of seamanship and navigation and created the standard for contemporary and modern navies. Operating forward in defense of a worldwide empire, many Royal Navy officers had seen combat and had demonstrated personal courage and resourcefulness. Beatty, commander of the Battle Cruiser Fleet at Jutland, had earned distinction – and favorably impressed a young Winston Churchill – in littoral action using river gunboats to support ground forces in Egypt. Work to understand and incorporate new technologies proceeded apace, with a limited cadre of specialists articulating the new technology to the fleet at large. There were efforts to change operational culture, most prominently spearheaded by the driven and charismatic Admiral Sir George Tyron. Tyron advocated a looser form of control, emphasizing formations following the Commander’s intent as understood or expressed in the movements of his flagship. His untimely death in a collision at sea – ironically and unfairly blamed on his style of signaling – arrested reform efforts for decades.

Having allowed the German Fleet to avoid decisive battle and escape home, the Royal Navy left the field at Jutland with a sense of failure that grew as the war concluded. Denied the decisive fleet action they expected, senior British commanders engaged in decades of controversy over what signals were sent, received, intended, and expected. This controversy colors any discussion of the battle to this day. Gordon, however, seeks to move this discussion to a more profound level. While individual commanders executed the action at Jutland, their failure to exercise initiative at key moments was not truly an individual act. Indeed, Gordon asserts that the sudden exercise of tactical initiative would have been an unnatural rejection of the culture that had nurtured them through their entire professional lives.

In his final chapter, Gordon draws twenty-eight specific observations from the Jutland experience. They are directed toward the Royal Navy of the early 1990s, but will resonate with serving officers today. Gordon rails against command and control being driven by the tools of information processing. Absent deliberate restraint, every increase in the capacity to transmit information produces an increase in the amount of information transmitted – with the capacity of the senior to send information, rather than the capacity of the junior to assimilate information, driving the flow. The focus too easily becomes getting the mechanisms of communications right, believing that with that information dominance achieved, success in command and control ensues. Ready access to information and the ability to transmit orders raises the level of decision making further from the point of action. When these links fail – today from jamming, cyber attack, or destruction of communications satellites – it is folly to expect naval commanders in combat will suddenly be able to shed the culture in which they have been trained.

Gordon also highlights the difficulty of integrating new concepts and technologies into a peacetime navy. In the Royal Navy of 1900, enthusiasts for new technologies drove the stated purpose and design of new weapons – much like our navy today. Their specialized focus ignored or obscured real operational challenges to their systems. Once a new system or platform arrived in the Fleet, however, its integration and employment became the business of fleet officers who were and are often working from different approaches than the cadre of experts who designed it. As practical naval officers, they rarely set a capability aside as too flawed for use, but rather would often “make the best of it,” sometimes using the ship for an entirely different purpose than intended. At Jutland, the Royal Navy Battle Cruiser Fleet consisted of ships designed to mount heavy guns but limited armor. Their superior speed was intended to allow them to manage their range to more heavily protected enemies. In actual combat, managing this thin envelope of safety proved too difficult. 3,300 British sailors died in these ships – ten percent of all the British sailors who participated in the battle – in what Gordon aptly calls “a costly rediscovery of the designer’s terms of reference.”

That insight brings us to Gordon’s overarching theme – how the Royal Navy dealt with a long peace, technological change, and an emerging German challenge to its comfortable dominance of the maritime domain. It is a short leap to ask to what extent the U.S. Navy remains, to paraphrase, in the long lee of Midway. It is a question the service must be comfortable asking, whether or not the answers are comfortable.

Aside from its impact and insight, The Rules of the Game is delightfully written. Gordon has a knack for memorable turns of phrase and admirable clarity (if not economy) of expression that makes the long journey through his thinking as enjoyable as it is intriguing. Every naval professional’s bookshelf should have a well-thumbed copy of this volume.

Captain Rielage serves as Director for Intelligence and Information Operations for U.S. Pacific Fleet, the headquarters where the Midway operation was commanded and controlled. He has served as 3rd Fleet N2, 7th Fleet Deputy N2, Senior Intelligence Officer for China at the Office of Naval Intelligence and Director of the Navy Asia Pacific Advisory Group. His opinions do not represent those of the U.S. Government, Department of Defense, or Department of the Navy.

Twenty-Eight Observations from The Rules of the Game
by Andrew Gordon

Lessons from the Battle of Jutland
31 May to 1 June 1916

1) In times of peace, empirical experience fades and rationalist theory takes its place.
2) The advent of new technology assists the discrediting of empirical doctrine.
3) The purveyors of new technology will be the most evangelizing rationalists.
4) Rationalism, unlike empiricism, tends to assume an accretion of vested interests.
5) The training establishment may try to ignore short bouts of empirical experience to preserve its ‘rationalist’ authority.
6) Military cultures impart doctrine by corporate ambience as much as by explicit teaching.
7) In long periods of peace, ‘ambient’ doctrine may be no more than the habits of years in which war has been forgotten.
8) If doctrine is not explicitly taught, vested interests will probably ensure that wrong doctrine is ambiently learned.
9) In peacetime, doctrine is vulnerable to commandeering by ‘systems lobbyists.’
10) Innovations adopted in accordance with peacetime doctrine may lock the Fleet into both systems and doctrine which will fail the empirical test of war.
11) Purveyors of technical systems will seek to define performance criteria and trials conditions.
12) A service which neglects to foster a conceptual grasp of specialized subjects will have too few warriors able to interrogate the specialists.
13) The volume of traffic expands to meet capacity.
14) Signals ‘capacity’ tends to be defined by how much the senior end can transmit rather than how much the junior end can conveniently assimilate.
15) Signal prioritizing mechanisms become dislocated in times of overload.
16) Incoming traffic can act as a brake on decision-making.
17) The more signals, the more the sun shines on signalers.
18) The ‘center’ must subject its own transmissions to the strictest self-denying ordinance.
19) Signaling promotes the centralization of authority.
20) There is an inverse law between robust doctrine and the need for signaling.
21) Heavy signaling, like copious orders, is symptomatic of doctrinal deficiency.
22) The promise of signaling fosters a neglect of doctrine.
23) War-fighting commanders may find themselves bereft of communications faculties on which they have become reliant in peacetime training.
24) Properly disseminated doctrine offers both the cheapest and the most secure command-and-control method yet devised by man.
25) Every proven military incompetent has previously displayed attributes which his superiors rewarded.
26) Peacetime highlights basic ‘primary’ skills to the neglect of more advanced, more lateral ‘secondary’ abilities, the former being easier to teach, easier to measure, and more agreeable to superiors.
27) The key to efficiency lies in the correct balance between organization and method.
28) Doctrine draws on the lessons of history.

Book Review: Syren’s Song

By Matt Hipple

In a splintering nation, isolated from the world by a terrorist organization’s terrifying new EMP technology, Syren’s Song stirs up a cocktail of classic Tom Clancy plot mix, shaken at a Clive Cussler speed, with a sprig of Dale Brown for flair.

The author, Claude Berube, only rarely envokes his  author’s prerogative for the suspension of disbelief. The technology is either real, or stays close enough to the world of possibility. Highland Maritime operates off the recently-purchased SYREN:  the former SEA FIGHTER, a real US Navy experimental vessel. Stark & Co employ an array of drones, firearms, and small boats that, unlike their action-movie alternatives, are shown as vulnerable as they likely would be. All told, I can forgive Claude the mystery EMP device, the stealthy resurgence of the Tamil Tigers, and a drone that can see the mineral component of objects in a building.

The conduct of operations by Highland Maritime, US Navy, and LTTE terrorist operations was sound as well. Syren’s Song contains none of the contrived horror-movie style “death by incompetence” moments we all hate. Even the ship driving is informative in its casual realism. At one point the SYREN uses backwash and wake to swamp low-board terrorist vessels – a small thing, but an important real-life use of maneuvering where another book may have used firearms as the destructive plot-device.

The history is also a strong foundation, especially for readers already interested in military and diplomatic affairs. Often, author-invented terrorist groups can be shallow clichés. Choosing the Tamil Tigers as Syren’s Song’s villains – particular the Sea Tiger wing – was an inspired villain choice.  The organization, and the civil war in Sri Lanka, is an incredible and tragic case study that provides emotion, impetus, and background to the characters. The deadly innovation of the Sea Tigers also jibes with the new direction they are taken in the novel. The title is a historical gem too – but anything further on that would be a spoiler. Syren’s Song is an education more than anything else.

Even the characters are real. They may sound fantastical, but as someone who knows a guy who escaped jail by enlisting and later on during liberty dismantled a Greek bar before drunkenly reconstructing it in the street…  truth is stranger than fiction.  A brilliant NAVSEA employee fired for smoking weed, an Iranian expat trained by former shah agents… even RDML Rossberg is real, unfortunately.

A note about RDML Rossberg – Claude Berube has managed to cull together a character that embodies the worst corners of naval thought and leadership in such an unsettling way. When thinking about how I would review the book, I almost unconsciously started referring to RDML Rossberg as the villain, even though he arguably plays only a minor role as spoiler.

Syren’s Song finds the sweet spot between the individual derring-do found in adventure novels and the operational/technological obsessions of the military thriller. The terrorist EMP threat is just the right kind to make the story’s microcosm plausible at all. Characters have expanded freedom to exercise their capabilities and individual interests. In a more realistic scenario, 7th Fleet would be getting hourly updates from the USS LEFON and the Indian military would have descending on Sri Lanka before proliferation of a terrorist superweapon destabilized their nation. However, Claude Berube backs off the interfering world just enough that this geopolitical incongruity is noted with relief, rather than incredulity. To do any less would have washed out the contrast and color of the cast.

What struck me most about Syren’s Song was the level to which it did strike me. It is strongly colored with the real experiences and passions of a man you can tell loves the service and people of maritime operations… and wants to do them due diligence. Perhaps, Syren’s Song is a love song of sorts.

The Connor Stark series will become your new favorite. Syren’s Song is an educational adventure whose characters you will love, and whose biggest flaw is only lasting 200 some pages.

Full Disclosure – Claure Berube is a close friend and associate… but if I didn’t like his book, I would have conveniently forgotten to review it or claimed I’d lost it in all the boxes of baby stuff stacked up in the den.

Matthew Hipple is the President of CIMSEC, host of the Sea Control podcast, and a naval officer whose opinion does not represent that of the US Government, Department of Defense, or Department of the Navy.

Book Review: American Sea Power and the Obsolescence of Capital Ship Theory

The United States is over-invested in large-scale capital ships that are a liability in this new age of irregular warfare. That is the premise behind the upcoming book, American Sea Power and the 51e6FYBh-oL._SX331_BO1,204,203,200_Obsolescence of Capital Ship Theory by R.B. Watts. Watts, a retired Captain in the United States Coast Guard, says that this text is a culmination of 30 years of research and observation. He does not rule out the possibility of conventional war between states; instead, he emphasizes the greater likelihood of irregular conflict and the Navy’s need to prepare for these types of conflicts. The book itself separates into three distinct sections: a historical analysis of predominant theories and their alternatives; an examination of the evolution since the Cold War; and an assessment of the new requirements of irregular warfare.

Watts does an admirable job of covering the historical basis for his theory. He begins with a detailed explanation of A.T. Mahan and his prevailing theory on the importance of the large scale capital ship fleet. He next explores the ascendancy, use, and effectiveness of the capital ship. From the dreadnought, to the battleship, to the fleet Alfred-Thayer-Mahancarrier, all the way to the nuclear super carrier, he examines the use and effectiveness of each in their prevailing conflict. During the Cold War, the Western policy of containment was a boon for navalists wedded to Mahanian theory. Containment implies encirclement and encirclement of the Soviet Union by sea was a major part of the NATO response. The capital ship theory though did not fit into the new paradigm. Vietnam and the Reagan reforms of the 1980’s were a strategic negative and positive for the Navy respectively.

Where he truly does excel is looking at the modern naval implications after 9/11. During the Global War on Terror naval air power was used to great effect in the beginning of ENDURING FREEDOM. It was used so successfully that the pilots soon ran out of targets. New developments have come to bear in the last decade. The Littoral Combat Ship, a small “streetfighter” designed to operate in the littorals and close to shore, has now been re-purposed to fight with the blue-water fleet. This led to massive cost overruns and concerns over survivability. China has risen to fill the gap left by the Soviet Union in capital ship theory.  Coming from the GWOT and the threat of China, was the concept of “jointness”. The idea is that by working together and collaborating, the force can be more efficient and relevant to irregular and regular missions. “Air-Sea Battle” announced in 2011 codified “jointness”, bringing with it capital ship theory at the forefront. He concludes that the United States must change its objectives to meet the new challenges of irregular war. As long as the United States remains a superpower, it should expect to be challenged using irregular methods.

American Sea Power and the Obsolescence of Capital Ship Theory is a noteworthy entry into an area that is rarely explored, the risk of over-reliance on capital ships in the United States Navy. The experience of the author and his meticulous research truly shows through the pages. His exploration of the Cyclone-class patrol craft, US Navy presence in the Persian Gulfthe LCS, and the need for a small surface combatant designed for operations in the littoral is quite compelling. The Navy is sorely missing a patrol craft that can operate on presence missions in the South China Sea, Persian Gulf, the Caribbean, and the Mediterranean. One area that is missing is the lack of the contributions of PT boats in the Second World War. Captain Watts’ book is a worthwhile read for anyone in the sea service and those interested in alternatives to current trends within the US Navy.

American Sea Power and the Obsolescence of Capital Ship Theory will be released on 15 November 2015.

David Roush received his Master’s degree in National Security Affairs emphasizing naval affairs from the Institute of World Politics. He also holds a bachelor’s degree from Western Michigan University in Political Science. David currently serves as CIMSEC’s Director of Content Management.

God and The Great Naval Theorist

 

God and Seapower

God and Seapower: The Influence of Religion on Alfred Thayer Mahan by Suzanne Geissler.  USNI Press, October 15, 2015. 280pp. $39.95.

For many of us, Alfred Thayer Mahan is certainly no stranger. His theories and writings have been talked about and analyzed for years.  They have been savored by everyone from the President of the United States, the lowly Naval War College graduate, and many others around the world.  Thus, it is always refreshing to read something new and interesting about this well-known and often talked about historical figure. Suzanne Geissler has done just that.  Professor Geissler has delivered some fresh insights and probably stirred some debate with her new book, God and Seapower.  The book is a fascinating look into Mahan’s life by focusing on his religious beliefs. At 280 pages this book is a nice size; something that can be read in a week and yet she still manages to cover ATM’s life, from childhood to wise naval theorist, quite nicely.  Recently I had the opportunity to interview Professor Geissler about her new book.  What follows is the transcript of our interview which was conducted over e-mail.

Why Mahan and Religion?  Why did you want to write this book?

My specialty is American religious history, but I have always been interested in military and naval history, more as a hobby than a professional specialization.  Many years ago – I don’t remember why or in what context – I read that Mahan was an Episcopalian.  I’m an Episcopalian, too, so I just filed that away as an interesting factoid, but didn’t think much more about it.  Then some years later I read Robert Seager II’s biography of Mahan and came away disappointed in the book, but intrigued further about Mahan’s religious involvement.  I did a little digging and discovered that he wrote extensively about religion and church issues.  There was tons of stuff out there that no one had ever looked at in a serious way.  I thought there had to be a significant story here.

The book, in part, is a counter argument to one of Mahan’s most well-known biographers, Robert Seager II.  Readers will quickly realize that you disagree with many of Seager’s opinions.  Who was Seager and why do you disagree with him so strongly?

Seager was a former merchant mariner who had become an academic historian.  A few years prior to his biography coming out he, along with Doris Maguire, had co-edited Mahan’s papers.  He used that as the raw material for his biography of him.  The problem with the book, as I think is readily apparent after only reading a few pages, is that Seager thoroughly disliked Mahan.  Now I’m not saying that a biographer has to like his subject, but there needs to be at least an attempt to be fair and look at the sources in an impartial manner.  But Seager so disliked Mahan – as though he knew him personally and couldn’t stand the guy – that it colored the entire book.  Everything Mahan did throughout his whole life, from the trivial to the monumental, is presented in the worst possible light.  Also, the whole book is written in a sarcastic tone – what today we would call snarky – that becomes really tiresome after a while.  My biggest beef with Seager is that he loathes – and I don’t think that’s too strong a word – Mahan’s religious devotion and piety and thinks it is the root of all that makes Mahan so – and these are Seager’s words – arrogant, egotistical, racist, to name a few.  Seager is entitled to his own opinion, of course, but the more I got into the sources, Mahan’s own letters and writings, the more I saw that Seager had no interest in being fair or even attempting to understand Mahan in the context of his own time.  My other complaint about Seager is that on numerous occasions he either disregarded what a source clearly said or twisted it out of context in order to present Mahan in a bad light.

On what points do you agree with Seager on Mahan?

The only thing I agree with Seager on is his statement that Mahan wrote the most influential book by an American in the nineteenth century.

You mention Mahan’s father and uncle were two of the biggest religious influences in his life.  How so?

Mahan’s father, Dennis Hart Mahan, was a former Army officer and professor of engineering at West Point for almost fifty years.  He was a monumental figure at West Point and in the Army officer corps.  In those days the field of military engineering included strategy, tactics, and military history.  So Alfred had a role model of exceptional brilliance whom Army officers – including people such as Grant and Sherman – held in awe.  Alfred got his introduction to military history through his father.  But Dennis was also a devout Christian and Episcopalian who modeled those attributes to his son.  Dennis epitomized the 19th– century ideal of a “Christian gentleman” but in a way that was genuine, not superficial.  Milo Mahan, Dennis’s younger half-brother, was an Episcopal priest and professor of church history at General Theological Seminary, the Episcopal seminary in New York City.  Alfred lived with him for two years (when Alfred was fourteen – fifteen and attending Columbia University), a period which imbued him with Milo’s High Church piety.  For the next fourteen years or so, Milo was Alfred’s main theological mentor.  They had an extensive correspondence and Milo provided Alfred with reading lists of theological works which Alfred read on long sea voyages.  As Alfred told his fiancée, Milo was the man he went to with any biblical or theological questions.  All that reading, under Milo’s guidance, in effect gave Alfred the equivalent of a seminary education. 

Mahan’s father, I didn’t realize, was well-known in political and military circles in the 19th century.  When did Mahan step out of his father’s shadow?

One of my favorite anecdotes occurs in the waning days of the Civil War.  Alfred is on Admiral Dahlgren’s staff stationed off Savannah when the victorious General William Tecumseh Sherman arrives in the city.  Alfred goes ashore to see Sherman bearing a congratulatory telegram from his father.  Sherman greets him by saying “What, the son of old Dennis?”  Certainly, for more than half of his active duty career Alfred was best known for being Dennis’s son.  He doesn’t really emerge from his father’s shadow until the publication of his first book The Gulf and Inland Waters in 1883 when he’s forty-three.  This book leads to his appointment at the Naval War College which in turn leads to the publication of his lectures as The Influence of Sea Power Upon History. 

Mahan loved his dog, Jomini. And as you quote, Mahan believed his dog would go to heaven when he died.  Was this belief, that  a dog’s soul goes to heaven, abnormal for an Episcopalian at this time?  

Mahan never expounds on the reasons that he believes his dogs, Jomini and Rovie, went to heaven, so I have to extrapolate based on what I know about this issue and Mahan’s own beliefs. 

Alfred Thayer Mahan's dog, Jomini. Courtesy of USNI Press.
Alfred Thayer Mahan’s dog, Jomini. Courtesy of USNI Press.

As I understand it, the Roman Catholic Church teaches that animals don’t go to heaven because they don’t have souls.  Most Protestants, though, considered the “soul” issue irrelevant and based their view – that we will see our beloved pets in heaven – on the fact that animals clearly are part of creation and God has promised that all creation will be redeemed (Romans 8:21).  Mahan knew his Bible thoroughly so I’m willing to bet that he would have based his view on this scripture rather than abstract speculation on whether animals have souls or not.

One of your more, shall we say, contentious statements, is that Mahan’s  The Influence of Sea Power Upon History was inspired by God.  Could you expand on this?  

Well, I don’t claim that, but Mahan certainly did.  In his autobiography, From Sail to Steam, he made reference to his “special call” to be a naval historian, or, more specifically, to be the expositor of the importance of sea power on the course of history.  He never claimed that he discovered the concept.  He was always generous in crediting previous historians whose thought influenced his.  But he claimed that “in the fullness of time” – a biblical expression — the call was given to him to be the one who explained it and drew the correct implications from it.

What did Mahan think of Catholics?  Other Christians?  Other religions?

I’m simplifying a lot here, but, basically, Mahan had a kind of layered view of religious categories.  Christianity was better than other, i.e. non-Christian, religions (though Judaism was in a special category as Christianity’s older brother, so to speak).  Within Christianity, Protestantism was best, and within Protestantism, Anglicanism was best.  Having said that, I should point out that the groupings within Christianity related mainly to polity (types of church governance), liturgy (forms of worship), and history.  Mahan clearly had his preferences, but he never claimed that, for example, there was only one true church.  For him the most important thing was to be a Christian.  If you loved Jesus and accepted him as Lord and Savior, it did not matter what denomination you belonged to.  In a similar vein, Mahan once stated that he would cooperate with any Christian group in evangelistic or missions work as long as such a group did not include Unitarians.  He did not consider them Christians since they did not recognize the divinity of Jesus.  One of the things that makes Mahan so fascinating to me is that he’s not easily pigeon-holed into conventional religious categories.  On the one hand he’s very much a High Church Episcopalian, but he’s also very much a born-again evangelical. 

Was Mahan able to separate his writing?  That is, did he keep naval theory separate from his religious writing?  It seems like he was able to live in two different worlds on the page, yet his religious life infused everything he did.

Mahan was actually quite sophisticated in his historical methodology.  He understood that history and theology were two different fields, each with its own ways of interpreting events.  As a Christian he believed that God was the sovereign creator and ruler of the universe and God’s decrees always came to pass.  However, he understood that God operated through what theologians called “secondary causes,” that is the choices made by human beings and their resultant actions.  A historian deals with secondary causes.  It was extremely rare for Mahan to speculate on God’s purposes in his naval history writings. 

US Naval Academy Chapel circa 1850s. Courtesy of USNI Press.
US Naval Academy Chapel circa 1850s. Courtesy of USNI Press.

For those readers that wish to read a book on Mahan after they read your book, what do you recommend? 

I recommend Jon T. Sumida’s Inventing Grand Strategy and Teaching Command: The Classic Works of Alfred Thayer Mahan Reconsidered.  This is a fascinating book full of original insights on Mahan. 

Are there other historians working today that do not have a theology background, yet pay serious consideration to their subject’s religious belief?  Specifically, military biographies?

This is difficult for me to answer since I don’t really know who is working on what topics, especially in military biography.  But the two naval historians who were most helpful and encouraging to me when I undertook this project, Jon Sumida and John Hattendorf, are both very interested in religion and the role it plays in people’s lives.  And they both have a positive view of it rather than a negative one.  Hattendorf, particularly, is very knowledgeable about the Episcopal Church.  In his editing of the writings of Admiral Stephen B. Luce he does incorporate a discussion of Luce’s piety. 

Why do you think religion so often takes a back seat when we discuss historical figures — past or present? Or does it?

As I mentioned, my field is religious history, so for most of the people I read and study about, by definition, religion is important.  However, you’re right, in other historical sub-fields religion is usually ignored or misunderstood.  For example, Martin Luther King, Jr. comes to mind.  Even in a case such as that, where you would think the religious angle would be obvious – his being a clergyman and pastor — there are some writers who have downplayed that and made his story one of “social justice” and politics, completely ignoring the biblical roots of his thought, not to mention his dramatic conversion experience.  I don’t like to generalize about historians, but in order to answer your question, I’ll do it anyway!  Most present day historians are either indifferent or hostile to religion, especially the notion of an individual having a personal encounter with God, or believing that God has called that person to a specific task in life.  Some writers see this sort of thing as just an eccentricity, not necessarily bad, but of no real significance.  Others take a more negative view and see religious faith as a personality defect that could have pernicious consequences.  One thinks of all the historians who have blamed the defects of the Versailles Treaty on Woodrow Wilson’s Presbyterian piety. 

Suzanne Geissler received her Ph.D. in history from Syracuse University’s Maxwell School of Citizenship and Public Affairs.  She also holds a Master of Theological Studies degree in church history from Drew University.  She is professor of history at William Paterson University in Wayne, NJ.  Her previous books include Jonathan Edwards to Aaron Burr Jr., Lutheranism and Anglicanism in Colonial New Jersey, and “A Widening Sphere of Usefulness”: Newark Academy 1774-1993.

Lieutenant Commander Christopher Nelson is a US naval intelligence officer and recent graduate of the US Naval War College and the Maritime Advanced Warfighting School in Newport, Rhode Island.  The opinions above do not necessarily reflect those of the US Department of Defense or the US Navy.