1921. America was preparing for Armageddon against the British. In the Congress, Great Britain was dubbed "a red pox spreading across the Pacific". There were calls for the United States to "seize maritime control of the world". " As war frenzy mounted, someone said, "We were Britain's colony once. She will be our colony before she is done." For the uninitiated, it may sound confounding, unbelievable. But this Anglophobia was a reality in the US between the two wars. The deadlock did break and "the cousins" embraced each other. And everything was hunky-dory.

The author may be an American professor, but there is nothing desultory, pedantic or academic about the book. In fact, the racy style -- somewhere between a Frederick Forsythe potboiler and a Tom Clancy political thriller -- is gripping, startling and thought-provoking, as John Moser makes a daring and almost impetuous foray into hitherto uncharted territory. He deals with facts (yes, they are hard facts) that people have shied away from talking about fifty years or thereabouts after the rabid anti-British feelings mellowed down.

Moser is ruthless as he rips apart the dichotomised American psyche of being morbidly obsessed with the need for an enemy. Without one, nationalistic fervour in the United States does not seem to stand on its own. This hypocrisy is more pronounced in the perennial necessity of having an enemy personifying downright nefariousness. From Mexico, Spain, Germany, Japan and China to Vietnam, the Soviet Union, Libya, Iran and Iraq, each country has served as the American punching bag. It all started with the anti-British repugnance that serves as the fodder, and not without good reason, for this disturbing piece of historical insight.

The sub-title "American Anglophobia between the World Wars" is a misnomer and a trifle misleading. The period covered by Moser extends a little beyond the Second World War, with references to the Marshall Plan and the events leading to the coming into being of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO). The author does not remain confined to times between the wars. He, in fact, goes ahead to use this timeframe as a lever to make his point during the years spilling over either side of the inter-war period, and does it with panache.

Moser talks about opportunistic hypocrisy in friendship. America took Britain apart when friends were not deemed necessary to have. But when enemies appeared on the horizon, it went all out to befriend the British. Given this backdrop, while this may have been true in the post-1947/48, the author fails to understand (and so do the readers too) why the United States went on a bash-the Brits spree when Nazism was on the rise in Germany and Hitler's vile intentions were more than apparent.

For once, history isn't so boring.


Book synopsis
In 1918 Anglophobia, a permanent fixture of the 19th-century American cultural landscape, made a significant reappearance in American political discourse. Anti-British invective, whether directed against the Empire, the monarchy, the aristocracy, or even Americans suspected of harbouring pro-British sympathies, would remain an important determinant of US foreign policy well into the 1940s. Attempting to root out the causes and consequences of this resurgent distrust of "perfidious Albion", this text sets out to show that 20th-century American Anglophobia went beyond the two factors which are usually cited by way of explanation: isolationist tendencies and the Anglophobia of recent immigrants to the USA. The author argues that an Anglophobia ran far deeper through American culture, steeped in the American national mythology, which continued to cast the British monarchy and Empire as antithetical to the ideals of liberty and equality. The book traces the trajectory of American Anglophobia up to the emerging Cold War - when only the global challenge of Stalin's Soviet Union could persuade many Americans that a long-term association with the United Kingdom was necessary, or even desirable.

The American military and the country's national parks have had a relationship since the time, the United States military conducted surveys of regions that eventually ended up being parks. The military was the initial protector of many of these parks. One of the last in the line --the Presidio-- is the subject of Lisa Benton's volume.

Benton traces the origins of one of America's largest urban parks from its establishment as a Spanish base of military operations, through the United States army's occupancy after the Mexican-American War, and then zeroes in on the creation of the park as it is today.

She describes the battle royale over control of the Presidio by land sharks, park enthusiasts, and the military. She takes off on an environmental plane, come downs heavily on the military and ends up with a tome that is an interesting contribution to the never-ending saga of park-related conflicts.

Book Description

Nestled between the far western edge of San Francisco and the Pacific Ocean, the Presidio served as a military post for over two centuries. An urban enclave with more than 800 buildings and 1,500 acres of land, the Presidio is also a beautiful expanse of lush landscapes, natural resources, and recreation areas. When cuts in defence spending forced the post's closure in the late 1980s, these unique and diverse features kindled an initiative to transfer the Presidio to the National Park Service. Reshaping the former U.S. Army base as a park dedicated to environmental education required the most massive planning effort in the Park Service's history.

The arduous but eventually successful conversion is chronicled in this provocative case study of urban environmentalism in action. Lisa Benton places her analysis within the context of the rich military and cultural history of the Presidio, the interdependence between San Francisco and the base, and the conventional missions of the National Park Service. She thoroughly examines the Park Service's recommendation to manage the Presidio with a public/private partnership--an unusual proposal that sparked heated and highly politicised debate in Congress. Benton, who observed many of the hearings and negotiations firsthand, examines the economic, political, social, and environmental complexities raised by the plan, and shows how grass-roots organisations, philanthropists, business and political leaders, and other advocates ultimately helped preserve the Presidio as a showcase for both nature and culture. Her account is a fascinating story of people, institutions, conflict, cooperation, and change.

Benton's insightful study of the Presidio's transformation from Army base to one of the jewels of the National Park Service provides both a better understanding of contemporary land use issues and a model for similar innovations in urban greening.

Lisa M. Benton places her analysis within the context of the rich military and cultural history of the Presidio, the interdependence between San Francisco and the base, and the conventional missions of the National Park Service. She thoroughly examines the Park Service's recommendation to manage the Presidio with a public/private partnership - an unusual proposal that sparked heated and highly politicised debate in Congress. Benton, who observed many of the hearings and negotiations firsthand, examines the economic, political, social, and environmental complexities raised by the plan, and shows how grass-roots organisations, philanthropists, business and political leaders, and other advocates ultimately helped preserve the Presidio as a showcase for both nature and culture.