A. J. Langguth (1933–2014)

As other folks have noted, this is a disorganized book that doesn't really address its title: How the North won the war and lost the peace. There are small biographies as headings for most chapters, but that means the author continually goes back to the Civil War to explain what this or that character did in the war, and then explains what they did after the war. But with a focus on people instead of issues, there is no attempt to figure out what might have been done differently. Was corruption a problem and if so, how much was it real and how much overblown? If Lincoln had lived, what might he have done differently? If the large plantations had been broken up and the land distributed to poor blacks and whites, would that have prevented the Southern elite from returning to power? And what caused the intense racial hatred of poor whites for blacks that kept them from political alliances? Were too many Americans, North and South, so convinced that the former slaves were not and could never be equal that there was no possible fair solution? None of these issues gets discussed here. You'll be much better off with Eric Foner's Reconstruction, one of the most comprehensive efforts to examine one of the least successful periods in American politics and history.… (mais)

“Driven West” is a fascinating piece of narrative history that attempts to add another layer of understanding to an appropriately thick description of the American Civil War. Though many attempts to argue for the importance of the cause of states’ rights as a root of that conflict are largely viewed as racially-charged attempts to “whitewash” (literally) the REAL roots of the conflict in a battle about slavery, an honest historian would be quick agree that both causal issues cannot be appropriately understood without each other. Langguth helpfully complicates this debated narrative by developing a narrative a THREE-sided conflict the resulted in the Civil War: states’ rights, Indian removal, and slavery.

In fact, at the very end of the book, Langguth even goes so far as to claim that the FIRST “civil war” was the Indian removal that resulted in the Trail of Tears. And, I must say, I feel that he provides compelling evidence to support that claim. The Trail of Tears, like slavery, is a black spot on American history, truly a national tragedy.

For me, the most tragic element of all was the way in which the conflict fractured the Cherokee Nation into factions respectively led by Major Ridge and John Ross, who presented two very different approaches to dealing with the overweening power of the burgeoning United States. In my estimation, perhaps showing his journalism background, Langguth presented wonderfully sympathetic portrayals of BOTH figures, avoiding the temptation to vilify one or the other. However, I came pretty close to choosing a side after reading Langguth’s account of the assassinations of Elias Boudinot and Major Ridge’s son, John. Langguth’s larger point, though, is to demonstrate that these factions were, in effect, created by white men and then used to their advantage, preventing the Cherokee from resisting in any systematic or effective way.

Obviously, as the book’s title indicates, Andrew Jackson stands as a kind of “arch-villain” in the story, not simply for the actions of his Presidency regarding the Indian removal but for establishing a “policy direction” that remained dominant even into Lincoln’s presidency. Though there was a decided shift on the slavery question, the needle barely moved on white Americans’ disregard for the Cherokee. Van Buren, Tyler, Polk, and Taylor particularly come across here as Jackson toadies.

The most confounding element of the entire story is the choice of the Cherokee nation to side with the Confederate States of America at the outbreak of the Civil War, based once more on false promises that were not kept. Though the book is at present a nice length, I could have wished it just a bit longer so that Langguth could develop this element. The last two chapters, unfortunately, end up feeling a bit rushed.

Langguth succeeds admirably in providing portraits of the key figures, using the various personalities to provide a focus for each chapter. This helps him avoid a “and then what happened” style that can be the bane of complicated narrative. His most sympathetic portrayals are reserved for the Cherokee leaders, though he does show that the attitudes of key American leaders toward the Indians are more nuanced than is widely understood. Including Andrew Jackson.

Perhaps more than anything, this book shows that one of the elements that makes a tragedy is its sense of “fatedness,” if you will. Standing in the moment, some of history’s worst decisions look to be unavoidable. However, with the perspective provided by (nearly) two intervening centuries, there are scores of moments where one solitary different decision could have rewritten some of the most painful history of our nation. I cannot read the story of the Trail of Tears and conclude, “Oh well, I guess it was bound to happen.” Rather, Langguth’s tragic reminds me that the greatest tragedy of all is humanity’s comfortable myopia that refuses to look beyond the obvious or the easy choice for the moral and the righteous path. When pragmatism wins out over principle, history always loses.… (mais)