By Paul Carrier
Let’s start with what Eisenhower: A Life is not.
It’s not Eisenhower in War and Peace, by Jean Edward Smith, a comprehensive biography of the World War II commander and 34th president of the United States, which The New York Times described as “magisterial.” Nor is it Stephen Ambrose’s two-volume work. Or Michael Korda’s 800-page offering: Ike: An American Hero.
Paul Johnson’s slim volume is only 136 pages long, and that includes the index. But brevity is not necessarily a vice, even in a biography of a man as accomplished as Eisenhower. A prolific and popular British historian with a conservative bent, Johnson is an established practitioner of the concise profile, as shown by his books on Washington, Churchill, Jesus, Mozart, Darwin and Napoleon.
As such, Johnson knows how to construct what amounts to a primer. The key is to reduce every facet of the subject’s life to the barest possible detail, without sacrificing accuracy or committing major sins of omission. Thus, a chapter in Eisenhower: A Life entitled “The Destruction of Nazi Germany” is only 18 pages long.
Johnson’s breezy and positive take on Eisenhower is especially compelling as a character study that reveals much about his personality and temperament. This is not what is known in journalism as a “deep dive.” Heavy analysis and microscopic examination of the facts are to be found elsewhere. In fact, Johnson closes by recommending several other books on Ike.
Eisenhower, Johnson explains, was enthusiastic, congenial and well-mannered, except when he lost his famous temper, which he generally kept in check. One of the many revealing references to Ike’s style and attributes comes early in Johnson’s biography, when he explains why Gen. Fox Conner took the then major under his wing in the 1920s.
Conner saw that Eisenhower had a “clear, analytical intelligence,” and he was articulate. He could “get on well with anyone, especially hard cases,” Johnson writes, and he was “adept at resolving differences and promoting solutions.” Eisenhower applied reason to his decision making, concealed his strengths, was hardworking and pursued “consistent aims in life.”
Put another way, Eisenhower lacked the flaws that Gen. George C. Marshall, the U.S. Army chief of staff during World War II, deplored. Marshall hated officers preoccupied with promotions, buck passers, leaders who refused to delegate, men who “shouted and pounded the desk,” officers who loved the limelight, and pessimists. “Ike had none of these defects,” Johnson writes. Of all the Allied leaders, military and civilian, “Ike was easily the most consistently optimistic.”
Johnson also emphasizes Eisenhower's attitude toward the men under his command. “We have to bear constantly in mind that Ike regarded the lives of his soldiers as precious,” Johnson explains. “No Allied commander, in any of the theaters of war, was so eager to avoid casualties” to the greatest extent possible. Before D-Day, Eisenhower accepted complete responsibility for the assault that was to come, and even wrote a letter of resignation in advance.
As president, Eisenhower struck many as a tongue-tied, lazy and disengaged front man for his staff, especially Secretary of State John Foster Dulles. But Johnson insists that was all an act staged by a man who was perhaps the most enigmatic politician of the 20th century. Eisenhower sometimes deliberately spoke “gobbledygook” during his White House years, Johnson writes. He “made all the key decisions” in his administration, appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. And he “seems to have found it convenient and useful” when critics underestimated him.
Perhaps it’s inevitable, in such a concise biography, that some references cry out for more detail, such as Eisenhower’s attitude toward J. Robert Oppenheimer, whom Johnson disposes of in one sentence. Red-baiting Sen. Joseph McCarthy gets more ink, but Johnson never mentions that McCarthy openly questioned Eisenhower’s patriotism.
Johnson does not ignore Eisenhower’s deficiencies or debatable decisions, but he tends to downplay or justify them. He defends Ike’s failure to reach Berlin before the Russians did, acknowledges that Eisenhower “was not interested in women except in a domestic setting,” and concedes that he took “only a limited interest” in domestic issues, including civil rights.
Still, the title of one chapter on Eisenhower’s presidency — “The Best Decade in American History” — underscores Johnson’s admiring perspective — a view that clearly has at least some merit. Eisenhower successfully led the Allied war effort in Europe and oversaw a period of peace and prosperity as president. That’s not a bad track record.
It’s not Eisenhower in War and Peace, by Jean Edward Smith, a comprehensive biography of the World War II commander and 34th president of the United States, which The New York Times described as “magisterial.” Nor is it Stephen Ambrose’s two-volume work. Or Michael Korda’s 800-page offering: Ike: An American Hero.
Paul Johnson’s slim volume is only 136 pages long, and that includes the index. But brevity is not necessarily a vice, even in a biography of a man as accomplished as Eisenhower. A prolific and popular British historian with a conservative bent, Johnson is an established practitioner of the concise profile, as shown by his books on Washington, Churchill, Jesus, Mozart, Darwin and Napoleon.
As such, Johnson knows how to construct what amounts to a primer. The key is to reduce every facet of the subject’s life to the barest possible detail, without sacrificing accuracy or committing major sins of omission. Thus, a chapter in Eisenhower: A Life entitled “The Destruction of Nazi Germany” is only 18 pages long.
Johnson’s breezy and positive take on Eisenhower is especially compelling as a character study that reveals much about his personality and temperament. This is not what is known in journalism as a “deep dive.” Heavy analysis and microscopic examination of the facts are to be found elsewhere. In fact, Johnson closes by recommending several other books on Ike.
Eisenhower, Johnson explains, was enthusiastic, congenial and well-mannered, except when he lost his famous temper, which he generally kept in check. One of the many revealing references to Ike’s style and attributes comes early in Johnson’s biography, when he explains why Gen. Fox Conner took the then major under his wing in the 1920s.
Conner saw that Eisenhower had a “clear, analytical intelligence,” and he was articulate. He could “get on well with anyone, especially hard cases,” Johnson writes, and he was “adept at resolving differences and promoting solutions.” Eisenhower applied reason to his decision making, concealed his strengths, was hardworking and pursued “consistent aims in life.”
Put another way, Eisenhower lacked the flaws that Gen. George C. Marshall, the U.S. Army chief of staff during World War II, deplored. Marshall hated officers preoccupied with promotions, buck passers, leaders who refused to delegate, men who “shouted and pounded the desk,” officers who loved the limelight, and pessimists. “Ike had none of these defects,” Johnson writes. Of all the Allied leaders, military and civilian, “Ike was easily the most consistently optimistic.”
Johnson also emphasizes Eisenhower's attitude toward the men under his command. “We have to bear constantly in mind that Ike regarded the lives of his soldiers as precious,” Johnson explains. “No Allied commander, in any of the theaters of war, was so eager to avoid casualties” to the greatest extent possible. Before D-Day, Eisenhower accepted complete responsibility for the assault that was to come, and even wrote a letter of resignation in advance.
As president, Eisenhower struck many as a tongue-tied, lazy and disengaged front man for his staff, especially Secretary of State John Foster Dulles. But Johnson insists that was all an act staged by a man who was perhaps the most enigmatic politician of the 20th century. Eisenhower sometimes deliberately spoke “gobbledygook” during his White House years, Johnson writes. He “made all the key decisions” in his administration, appearances to the contrary notwithstanding. And he “seems to have found it convenient and useful” when critics underestimated him.
Perhaps it’s inevitable, in such a concise biography, that some references cry out for more detail, such as Eisenhower’s attitude toward J. Robert Oppenheimer, whom Johnson disposes of in one sentence. Red-baiting Sen. Joseph McCarthy gets more ink, but Johnson never mentions that McCarthy openly questioned Eisenhower’s patriotism.
Johnson does not ignore Eisenhower’s deficiencies or debatable decisions, but he tends to downplay or justify them. He defends Ike’s failure to reach Berlin before the Russians did, acknowledges that Eisenhower “was not interested in women except in a domestic setting,” and concedes that he took “only a limited interest” in domestic issues, including civil rights.
Still, the title of one chapter on Eisenhower’s presidency — “The Best Decade in American History” — underscores Johnson’s admiring perspective — a view that clearly has at least some merit. Eisenhower successfully led the Allied war effort in Europe and oversaw a period of peace and prosperity as president. That’s not a bad track record.
