THE ABONGO ABROAD: MILITARY INTERNATIONALISM, TRAVEL, TRAINING, AND PEACE IN GHANA AND THE UNITED STATES, 1960-1992 By John Valentine Clune Submitted to the graduate degree program in History and the Graduate Faculty of the University of Kansas in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. ________________________________ Chairperson Sheyda F. Jahanbani ________________________________ Anton Rosenthal ________________________________ Elizabeth L. MacGonagle ________________________________ Marie G. Brown ________________________________ Holly T. Goerdel Date Defended: May 1, 2014 ii The Dissertation Committee for John Valentine Clune certifies that this is the approved version of the following dissertation: THE ABONGO ABROAD: MILITARY INTERNATIONALISM, TRAVEL, TRAINING, AND PEACE IN GHANA AND THE UNITED STATES, 1960-1992 ________________________________ Chairperson Sheyda F. Jahanbani Date Approved: June 17, 2014 iii Abstract This dissertation searches the global commodities of military education and training assistance and international peacekeeping missions between the 1960s and 1980s for the meaning people on both the sending and receiving ends made of the international experience. For Ghanaian soldiers and their families and for American communities around large institutions for military education, training and service abroad paradoxically eroded national identities while creating new global citizens, within limits, as individuals and families developed transnational friendships and reaped social and financial benefits from the exchange. It argues that all participants in the global system of military-sponsored international travel approached the act with different ideas about what the travel signified, what opportunities it presented, and what change it intended to bring about, but all participants believed the travel inspired or revealed a new psychological orientation capable of transcending national boundaries and actualizing a global identity, which I call Military Internationalism. States and national policymakers appealed to such a transnational identity when forming, sustaining, and justifying international military exchanges (including education, training, and peacekeeping). Policymakers in both the United States and Ghana assumed that international travel, especially for military elites or potential elites, could yield corporate transformation and modernization to recipient states’ entire societies, via the military. Those advancements only occurred after individual transformations. Individual actors manifested Military Internationalism when they imagined themselves part of a global community that was sometimes smaller, sometimes larger than their respective nation-states. Around American institutions for military education, the community structures that evolved to welcome, instruct, and socialize visiting military personnel and their families flourished on their unofficial status. American women, especially, thrived in the environment which specifically discounted the role iv of the state while elevating values of hospitality, internationalism, and world peace. Ghanaian families on military-sponsored courses abroad also employed international education to exercise a global social imaginary based on entrepreneurial travel to relieve economic and political stresses in Ghana. Finally, large numbers of Ghanaian soldiers and their spouses integrated the trials and danger of international peacekeeping both for the benefits they provided and with a genuine faith that their service nurtured an authentically better world. v Acknowledgments As all historians know, large projects like dissertations are community efforts. I thank my graduate committee, including Anton Rosenthal, Elizabeth MacGonagle, Marie Brown, Brent Steele, Holly Goerdel, and especially my primary advisor, Sheyda Jahanbani, for carefully guiding this project in reasonable ways without dampening my enthusiasm. Professors Beverly Mack, Theodore Wilson, Jeffrey Moran, Jennifer Weber, Yacine Daddi Addoun, and Robert Schwaller at the University of Kansas encouraged me as a student more than they know. Librarians Carmen Orth-Alfie and Sara Morris provided rapid assistance whenever I called. Special thanks to Alan Clune and Amanda Schlumpberger for their countless hours editing and clarifying my work. Thanks to the U.S. Air Force Academy’s Department of History, especially Colonel Mark Wells, for sponsoring my graduate fellowship and the Air Force Institute of Technology’s Civilian Institution section for administrative support. I thank the U.S. Air Force Academy’s Directorate of Education, which sponsored my research in Ghana, and Brian Bartee, the U.S. Air Force attaché who coordinated my meeting with his Ghanaian counterpart, Derrick Attachie. Lieutenant Colonel Attachie arranged interviews with former Ghanaian officers, provided transportation to the Ghana Armed Forces Military Academy and Training Schools, the Command and Staff College, and introduced me to the Ghana Armed Forces Director of Public Relations, M’Bawine Atintande. Colonel Atintande provided a workspace and gave me free run of his library while his deputy, Eric Aggrey-Quashie, scoured the Directorate of Public Relations to create the most complete collection of AF News papers and peacekeeping journals ever assembled for my research. At Ghana’s Public Records and Archives Administration, Josiah Okyere’s attentive assistance helped me navigate collections with no finding aid to find vi documents to make my time there productive and exhilarating. Thanks to the University of Kansas’ College of Humanities for sponsoring my research at the United Nations archives, and to the United Nations Archives and Record Management Section’s amazingly attentive and patient archival staff. Finally, special thanks to my wife Jessica and children, for giving me a quiet space and a reason to work. It is to them and in honor of the one hundred Ghanaian soldiers who gave their lives as United Nations peacekeepers that I dedicate this work. vii Table of Contents Introduction ................................................................................................................................... 1 The Case for Ghana ..................................................................................................................... 7 Identities: Transnationalism, Military Internationalism, Modernity, and Diaspora .................. 14 Part I ............................................................................................................................................ 36 Chapter 1: Modernization Ideology and the United States Military Assistance Program .. 36 Introduction: International Military Education in the Decade of Development ....................... 36 Mutual Security Program Reform as Ideological Reform ........................................................ 43 The Modernization of Military Modernization ......................................................................... 52 Modernization Theory Becomes Policy .................................................................................... 70 Military Modernization’s Eclipse.............................................................................................. 82 Conclusion ................................................................................................................................. 88 Chapter 2: Independence and Internationalism: Ghana’s National Military and American Assistance Policy ......................................................................................................................... 91 Introduction: Three Boxes ......................................................................................................... 91 Training and Education, Integration and Isolation; U.S. Assistance Policy to Ghana before 1966 ........................................................................................................................................... 97 Ghanaian Nationalism, Pan-Africanism, and Military Internationalism in the early 1960s ... 107 American Assistance and Ghanaian Internationalism after 1966 ........................................... 122 Ghana’s Return to Military Rule and the Limits of American Military Education ................ 136 The Ghana Armed Forces Staff College and Military Internationalism for Export ................ 148 Conclusion ............................................................................................................................... 156 Chapter 3: “I Think They Would Be Better Off If We Took Them On A Tour Of Disney World:” Continuity and Change in International Military Education and Training ........ 159 Introduction: Momentum or Inertia? ....................................................................................... 159 viii The Informational Program in 1971: Inertia, Ideology, and Military Internationalism .......... 166 Military Internationalism, Human Rights, and the Indestructible International Military Education and Training Program ............................................................................................ 176 The Elastic Rhetoric of International Military Education and Training: The Ghanaian Case 196 Momentum or Inertia in the 1980s .......................................................................................... 204 Conclusion ............................................................................................................................... 213 Part II ......................................................................................................................................... 217 Chapter 4: “Baled-Hay Diplomacy:” Military Internationalism in Kansas City ............... 217 Introduction: Cultural Diplomacy versus Military Internationalism....................................... 217 The Informational Program: Cultural Diplomacy, Military Assistance, and More ................ 225 How International Officers’ Families and the Town of Leavenworth Kansas Came to Know Each Other ............................................................................................................................... 231 “And All of Us Such Nice People:” People-To-People and the International Officer ........... 250 Conclusion ............................................................................................................................... 277 Chapter 5: Writing for Peace: International Men and Women of the Ghana Armed Forces ..................................................................................................................................................... 279 Introduction: Makana’s Fanara Diary ..................................................................................... 279 “We Know the Sea That Washes Our Shores:” The Politics of International Service ........... 288 Internationalism Accessed through UN Service ..................................................................... 303 Writing for Peace .................................................................................................................... 321 Conclusion ............................................................................................................................... 331 Conclusion ................................................................................................................................. 335 Bibliography .............................................................................................................................. 343 1 Introduction A few ardent Muslims have been able to make their pilgrimage to Mecca, thus becoming alhajis while on ‘Op Sunrise.’ From time to time, a few of the officers and men with an interest in agriculture express a wish to visit some kibbutzim to acquaint themselves with Israeli farming techniques and know-how, which are well known to be among the best in the world . . . In short, the Ghanbatt participation in ‘Op Sunrise’ has been immensely beneficial. The troops have benefitted professionally by operating alongside so many other national contingents, and the travel to other parts of the world far from home is in itself a great education. Our officers and men went to the Pyramids of Giza, the sands of Sinai and the holy places they had heard of at Sunday School. – Lieutenant General Emmanuel Erskine, Mission with UNIFIL: An African Soldier’s Reflections1 After most folks had eaten the fried chicken or whatever, the music changed. Kenny Shuttleworth of Kansas City called square dance instructions to several hundred hardy dancers, from many score countries, some of whom didn't even understand English. That proved no problem. Dancers from Colombia, Finland, Thailand, Japan, and on and on, joined in Do-Si-Do’s and Aleman Rights as if they had been doing them for years.” – John Reichley, The Leavenworth Times, July 30, 19872 In Cosmopolitanism: Ethics in a World of Strangers, Ghanaian philosopher Kwame Anthony Appiah defends ordinary citizens on both the sending and receiving sides of the great projects of cultural imperialism in the twentieth century. They are not “blank slates on which global capitalism’s moving finger writes its message, leaving behind another homogenized consumer as it moves on,” he argues.3 That attitude, he says, “is deeply condescending. And it isn’t true.”4 People distinguish the good from the bad that they see, and the lessons they take from “Westernization” are not necessarily the same ones “cultural imperialists” try to sell.5 Instead, Appiah reflects, “people in each place make their own uses for even the most famous global commodities.”6 Even more significant than the differences in power or wealth they reveal, 1 Emmanuel A. Erskine, Mission with UNIFIL: An African Soldier’s Reflections (London: Hurst, 1989), 158. 2 John Reichley, “Do-Si-Do in 70 Languages,” Leavenworth Times, July 30, 1987, 4, Leavenworth Public Library. 3 Kwame Anthony Appiah, Cosmopolitanism: Ethics in a World of Strangers, Issues of Our Time (New York: W.W. Norton, 2006), 111. 4 Ibid. 5 Ibid. 6 Ibid., 113. 2 exchange in global commodities also exposes participants’ obligations to one another and provides opportunities for individuals to create new ties—“Beyond,” Appiah suggests, “those to whom we are related by the ties of kith and kind, or even the more formal ties of a shared citizenship.”7 The global commodities of military education and training and international peacekeeping offered those opportunities and exposed those obligations. This dissertation searches military educational exchanges and United Nations peacekeeping missions between the 1960s and 1980s for the uses people on both the sending and receiving ends had for the international experience. It explores how military education and service abroad paradoxically eroded national identities while creating new global citizens, within limits, as individuals and families developed transnational friendships and reaped social and financial benefits from the exchange. It also suggests that we need a different way to account for and describe the new identity that emerged. Several different groups interact in this account: American social scientists, diplomats, and foreign policy planners in the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s, who tried to employ American military assistance to achieve American political objectives while delivering economic development to some other parts of the world. Ghanaian military-turned-political leaders who, in the three decades after independence in 1957, tried to leverage internationally-available military training programs and Ghana’s own moral authority as a pan-African leader for their political purposes. American civilian volunteers who served military families from abroad as “sponsors,” teachers, and friends during their stay in the United States and sometimes for longer after in communities around the United States’ institutions for educating and training military officers. Ghanaian officers and their families in communities around military training institutions abroad. And Ghanaian soldiers of all ranks who served in United Nations peacekeeping operations in the 7 Ibid., xv. 3 Sinai between 1973 and 1979 and in Lebanon continuously after 1979, and their families, who bore the burdens of the separation and the danger, and obtained the financial benefits that came with UN peacekeeping service. Travel, specifically military-sponsored international travel, connected the ideas behind international military education and peacekeeping policies to people in both Ghana and the United States between the early 1960s and 1980s. The mostly men who devised those policies and the men and women who actually travelled drew different meanings from the experience. Those complementary meanings are the subject of this work. It argues that all participants in the global system of military-sponsored international travel approached the act with different ideas about what the travel signified, what opportunities it presented, and what change it intended to bring about, but all participants believed the travel inspired or revealed a new psychological orientation capable of transcending national boundaries and actualizing a global identity, which I call Military Internationalism. States and national policymakers appealed to such a transnational identity when forming, sustaining, and justifying international military exchanges (including education, training, and peacekeeping). Individual actors manifested Military Internationalism when they imagined themselves part of a global community that was sometimes smaller and sometimes larger than their respective nation-states. None of the participants used this phrase. I use it because all of them hinted, through the policies they created, the international relationships they formed, the personal, political, or economic use they made of their travel opportunities, and the fragile strands of peace they sought to nurture, that their participation in military travel resulted (or promised to result) in not just a better world, but better people within the better world. Further, the essential personal transformation was international; it could only be activated in an international setting, and its reference points were necessarily extra-national. 4 In Part 1, this dissertation explores the way American and Ghanaian governments made international education and training an essential aspect of their foreign policy in the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s. Using archival sources from the U.S. Departments of State and Defense, published Congressional and Presidential documents, and modernization theorists’ own work, Chapter 1 argues that in the United States, an alliance of academic elites and policymakers in the Kennedy Administration blended the prior American assumption that the national military represented modernity in “developing societies” with their new emphasis on modernization as a Cold War strategy. The United States’ international military education and training program became their preferred method to transform visiting elites from target states into “modern” men and American allies at a low cost. As an essential aspect of international education, the “Informational Program for Foreign Military Trainees and Visitors in the United States” made the American people themselves full participants and legitimate subjects for lessons in American-style modernity. Since that program made psychological transformation its primary purpose, not any specific or measurable change to the military capabilities or political structure of recipient states, American ideals about the exceptionalism of American society sustained the international military education and training program during the next three decades, even when most other aspects of American military assistance policy changed drastically. Chapter 2 integrates archival sources describing the founding of Ghana’s Military Academy and Staff College and its own military-produced publications to argue that for Ghanaians after independence, just as for Americans, the social value of lessons in military leadership, management of modern state institutions, and the vague category of professionalism transcended the national location where those lessons occurred. Ghanaians consumed those lessons from a wide variety of educational and training facilities abroad in the sixties and seventies, but also built their own capacity to provide them to Ghanaians and military personnel 5 from other African states as well. Meanwhile, the United States provided international military education grants as its only military assistance to Ghana during that time. The rise of Ghanaian Colonel Ignatius Acheampong to power in 1972 should have represented a crowning achievement of American military education, but instead he demonstrated its potential downside. The small American military education program was not only not enough to create “military professionalism” or secure a balanced civil-military relationship in another state, it may actually have encouraged discontented military leaders to seize power. Chapter 3 argues that in the 1970s and 1980s, Military Internationalism did real work defending the international military education and training ideal as the U.S. Congress questioned the role of American training in producing or encouraging dictators abroad. Department of Defense and State Department officials equated the program with the Fulbright scholarship, and argued that the program’s essential power to transform societies was through its humanity, not its militarism. They reiterated the long-held belief that life among Americans fundamentally changed people. That change was the first goal of the program, they argued, and society-wide improvement would result, but only in the long term. Careful re-wording of the program to emphasize “internationally recognized human rights” and shifting justifications for U.S. military assistance to Ghana in the years surrounding the Rawlings revolution exposed the international military education and training program as, essentially, an act of faith. But the original confidence that human-to-human interaction could transform visitors was not a myth. In American military assistance policy, it was often the only “real” thing. Part 2 explores how individual American and Ghanaians envisioned their role in international exchange. Travel conveyed tangible political and economic benefits, but this section argues that individuals’ outlooks became more transnational (or international, given the ongoing reliance on state structures) as a result. Chapter 4 argues that seeking alternate, informal, 6 or voluntary routes for international cooperation provided American women new opportunities to seize leadership roles in community organizations. Around Fort Leavenworth, for example, American volunteers in the People-to-People movement acknowledged, “To achieve peace we have tried military power, foreign aid, lend lease, diplomacy, and so on, without the long-term success we had hoped to achieve. Now, without detracting from these efforts, let us try building peace through friendship.”8 Surveying local newspaper articles and monthly newsletters from the Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People International, I find local initiatives for global peace articulated mostly in women’s voices. The final chapter argues that Ghanaian families also employed the infrastructure of international military cooperation to form an alternate global identity that was not simply larger than the nation-state. Ghanaians in international military service represented some aspects of the Ghanaian nation—such as in Ghanaian participation in the UN or Ghanaian leadership among multilateral peacekeeping forces. But the idea of a Ghanaian nation was problematic even within Ghana during these decades, and Ghanaian families actively manipulated state structures for military travel in ways that actually destabilize the nation-state as the essential unit of analysis. This chapter uses Ghanaian soldiers’ memoirs, entries from peacekeeping journals in the Sinai and Lebanon in the 1970s and 1980s, and Ghana’s Armed Forces News newspaper to explore the way Ghanaian families used international military travel as a transnational economic strategy within a larger social imaginary that equated travel with “getting ahead.” In that sense, Ghanaian military families abroad resembled other Ghanaians in the diaspora. For military wives, that service placed new expectations on them for work, family, and home, but it also provided them with the means to make claims against the state to fulfill them. Finally, the way individual Ghanaians embraced peacemaking on UN missions in Egypt and Lebanon also reveals that the 8 Chuck Nelson, “President’s Corner,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, November 1970, 4, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 7 global identity military service activated had imaginary roots accessible only through specifically military channels. Given the slowness of measurable results toward global peace, economic development across the global South, or Ghanaian political development to appear between 1960 and 1990, international military travel did not yield the results Ghanaian or American policymakers expected. American defense policymakers and Congressional critics expressed doubts about these international exchange programs repeatedly in the 1970s and 1980s, but never abandoned them. Instead, they vaguely recognized that the essential historical process at work resisted measurement through statistics. International travel changed people’s minds, and the world changed within the minds of people. What those involved saw differently about themselves, about their new international relationships, and about the world, is the subject of this work. The Case for Ghana Unlike other examples of American military assistance in the Cold War that metastasized into full-blown proxy wars, created puppet governments that depended on American military assistance to maintain their political control, or transferred great quantities of American weapons over long periods, the case of Ghana demonstrates the intangible assumptions of Cold War military assistance exceptionally well.9 During the Cold War, the United States and Soviet Union 9 See, for example, Bradley R. Simpson, Economists with Guns: Authoritarian Development and U.S.-Indonesian Relations, 1960-1968 (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2008); Nick Cullather, The Hungry World: America’s Cold War Battle Against Poverty in Asia (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2010); Jeffrey Taffet, Foreign Aid As Foreign Policy: The Alliance for Progress in Latin America (New York: Routledge, 2007); Thomas C. Field, “Ideology as Strategy: Military-Led Modernization and the Origins of the Alliance for Progress in Bolivia,” Diplomatic History 36, no. 1 (January 1, 2012): 147–83; Robert H. Holden, “The Real Diplomacy of Violence: United States Military Power in Central America, 1950-1990,” The International History Review 15, no. 2 (1993): 283–322; John S. Fitch, “The Political Impact of U.S. Military Aid to Latin America: Institutional and Individual Effects,” Armed Forces and Society 5, no. 3 (Spring 1979): 360–86; Chester A. Crocker, “Military Dependence: The Colonial Legacy in Africa,” The Journal of Modern African Studies 12, no. 2 (June 1, 1974): 265– 86; James A. Bill, “The Military and Modernization in the Middle East,” Comparative Politics 2, no. 1 (October 1969): 41. 8 routinely employed military assistance as capital in their ideological proxy battles. Unlike nineteenth century colonial powers who acquired their social consciousnesses as an afterthought, deeply held ideological views drove U.S. and Soviet Union competition for new states’ allegiance from the start —a struggle Odd Arne Westad labels “The Empire of Liberty” versus “The Empire of Justice” over what historian Melvyn Leffler calls “The Soul of Mankind.”10 The way both U.S. and Ghanaian policymakers expected national and corporate benefits to flow from the small but persistent relationship of military education and training exchange reveals more about their own ideologies regarding transnational educational experiences than about any mutual desire to create a “strong” military. Leaders in both Ghana’s and the United States’ governments willingly ignored a great deal about the other, including: a reputation for neo- colonial meddling, rumors of CIA involvement in Ghana’s coups, and support for white rule in South Africa on one hand, and a heritage of ineffective, politically unreliable rulers, pan-African socialism, and a “malcontent” military that refused to exit national politics on the other. What both sides ignored about the other on the policy level reveals in much higher relief the faith in the fundamental goodness of the human exchange that underwrote the relationship for so long, even if both sides rarely admitted it. Ghana’s prominence as the first newly independent African state south of the Sahara made American foreign policy there both ideologically representative and strangely unique. Americans readily took Ghana to represent the rest of the global south, but America’s relationship with Ghana was very different from other influential or contested states in Asia, Latin America, and even Africa.11 Ghanaian independence forced Americans to confront how 10 Odd Arne Westad, The Global Cold War: Third World Interventions and the Making of Our Times (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2007), 5; Melvyn P Leffler, For the Soul of Mankind: The United States, the Soviet Union, and the Cold War (New York: Hill and Wang, 2007), 8. 11 Philip E Muehlenbeck, Betting on the Africans: John F. Kennedy’s Courting of African Nationalist Leaders (Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2012); See David E. Apter, The Gold Coast in Transition (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1955); David E. Apter, Ghana In Transition, 2nd Revised (Princeton, NJ: Princeton 9 they related with one another, most notably in the way they envisioned equality. To African Americans, Ghanaian independence in 1957 invalidated American racism.12 Even white American political leaders clamored to make Ghana a symbol of (or proxy for) their civil rights agenda.13 Ghana also tested the integrity of the ideologies behind foreign aid that united economic development projects with security assistance, but which resolutely rejected escalating weapons sales in favor of entirely human resource-centered modernization projects. Finally, American responses to recurring military coups d’état, punctuated by interludes of constitutional government in Ghana, reveal how American foreign policy rhetoric evolved to tolerate military rule for different reasons over time. Because the United States’ military presence in Ghana was so small and depended almost entirely on international education and training exchanges, Ghana’s case demonstrates especially well the persistence and limits of ideology in foreign policy.14 Specifically, official references to the personal interaction between Ghanaians and Americans, especially between military personnel and American communities, remained the essential justification for the American policy for thirty years.15 University Press, 1972); Elizabeth Cobbs Hoffmann, All You Need Is Love: The Peace Corps and the Spirit of the 1960s (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998), 157; Gabriel Kolko, Confronting the Third World: United States Foreign Policy, 1945-1980 (New York: Pantheon Books, 1988), 198. 12 Kevin Kelly Gaines, American Africans in Ghana: Black Expatriates and the Civil Rights Era (Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 2006), 5; James T. Campbell, Middle Passages: African American Journeys to Africa, 1787-2005 (New York: Penguin Press, 2006); Jason C Parker, “‘Made-in-America Revolutions’? The ‘Black University’ and the American Role in the Decolonization of the Black Atlantic,” The Journal of American History 96, no. 3 (December 1, 2009): 727–50; Horace Campbell, “Pan-Africanism and African Liberation,” in Imagining Home: Class, Culture, and Nationalism in the African Diaspora, ed. Sidney J. Lemelle and Robin D. G. Kelley (London: Verso, 1994), 285–307; Penny M. Von Eschen, Race Against Empire: Black Americans and Anticolonialism, 1937-1957 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1997); Saidiya V. Hartman, Lose Your Mother: A Journey Along the Atlantic Slave Route (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007), 38. 13 James H. Meriwether, “‘Worth a Lot of Negro Votes’: Black Voters, Africa, and the 1960 Presidential Campaign,” The Journal of American History 95, no. 3 (December 1, 2008): 737–63; Muehlenbeck, Betting on the Africans; See also Mary L Dudziak, Cold War Civil Rights: Race and the Image of American Democracy (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2000). 14 See, for example, Michael Hunt, Ideology and U.S. Foreign Policy (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2009), 3. 15 See Muehlenbeck, Betting on the Africans; Gaines, American Africans in Ghana. 10 Ghana’s leadership among nonaligned states revealed the ways American foreign policymakers’ struggled to make their side attractive, even relevant, to the great numbers of newly decolonized peoples and their states around the world. The former colonial or semicolonial countries in Africa, Asia, and Latin America suffered as ideological battlefields for Cold War hegemons, but leaders in the bloc of nonaligned states that emerged in the late 1950s asserted a third way to maintain their economic and political independence and ensure that neither the United States nor the Soviet Union could intervene abroad at will.16 Kwame Nkrumah attended the April 1955 Asian-African conference in Bandung, Indonesia even before Ghana became independent and he steadily rose in international influence to make Ghana a charter member of the Nonaligned Movement at the 1961 Belgrade conference.17 Nkrumah’s aggressive nonaligned rhetoric irritated President Kennedy—he complained that Nkrumah had “been bad” in Belgrade—but Nkrumah forced American leaders to recognize his power to restrict American aid that smacked of “neo-colonialism” and demand American support for projects that promised “development.”18 In the early 1960s, nonalignment provided Nkrumah with leverage over the terms of Ghana’s relationship with the United States that few other leaders of small states shared and that heightened the global propaganda value of all U.S.-Ghanaian cooperation.19 Kennedy made “engaging” nonaligned states the centerpiece of his new, ideological approach to foreign 16 One reason Westad employs the suspect term “Third World” is to validate this “third way” and restore agency to decolonized elite who struggled to forge their own path between two powerful hegemonic forces. Westad, The Global Cold War, 2. 17 Ibid., 98, 107. 18 Kwame Nkrumah, Revolutionary Path (London: Panaf, 1973), 173; “232. Memorandum of Telephone Conversation between President Kennedy and the Acting Under Secretary of State (Ball); September 21, 1961,” in Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961-1963, vol. XXI Africa (Washington: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 355; John F Kennedy, “242. Letter From President Kennedy to President Nkrumah; December 14, 1961,” in Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961-1963, vol. XXI Africa (Washington: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 371–372; Hoffmann, All You Need Is Love, 154. 19 Robert B. Rakove, Kennedy, Johnson, and the Nonaligned World (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013), 138. 11 relations.20 For modernization theorists in his administration, nonaligned states offered the highest psychological return on investments in the development of the “Southern Half of the Globe.”21 Meanwhile, Kennedy aggressively wooed Nkrumah through an unprecedented personal diplomacy initiative.22 Therefore, Presidents Kennedy and Johnson gauged their Cold War influence across Africa and Asia on Ghana.23 Later in the 1960s, Ghana manifested many of the same political and economic tragedies that Cold War competition wrought upon contested states.24 The nonaligned coalition also fractured as Cold War tension exacerbated differences between nonaligned states.25 Rather than focus on Ghana as a victim of Cold War competition, however, this work argues that the Nonaligned Movement’s response to the Cold War amplified Ghana’s international significance, and the United States became even more attentive to the psychological impact of its foreign policy initiatives there.26 In the early 1960s, American policymakers still saw the world as a national security problem, but correlated the broadly diverse aspects of the U.S.-Ghana relationship as essentially psychological, not political, matters. U.S. funding for the massive Volta River dam project, Ghana’s pioneering acceptance of Peace Corps volunteers, competition for leadership among United Nations peacekeeping forces in the Congo, and Ghana’s pursuit of military training from British, Canadian, and Soviet sources all merged in a new sensitivity to the connections between 20 Rakove names this foreign policy “engagement.” Ibid., xx–xxi. 21 Ibid., xxi. 22 Ibid.; Philip Muehlenbeck, “Kennedy and Toure: A Success in Personal Diplomacy,” Diplomacy and Statecraft 19 (2008): 69–95; Muehlenbeck, Betting on the Africans. 23 Hoffmann, All You Need Is Love, 157; Muehlenbeck, Betting on the Africans, 77; McGeorge Bundy, “240. Notes for the Record; December 5, 1961; Subject: NSC Meeting on Volta Dam,” in Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961-1963, ed. Nina Davis Howland, vol. XXI Africa (Washington: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 369; See McGeorge Bundy, “239. Memorandum From the President’s Special Assistant for National Security Affairs (Bundy) to President Kennedy,” in Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961-1963, ed. Nina Davis Howland, vol. XXI: Africa (Washington, DC: US Gov. Print. Off., 1995), 365–68; Rakove, Kennedy, Johnson, and the Nonaligned World, 64,138. 24 Westad, The Global Cold War, 396. 25 Ibid., 107. 26 Hoffmann, All You Need Is Love, 157; Bundy, “240. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa,” 369; See Bundy, “239. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa.” 12 anti-colonial nationalism and economic development that sprung, at their heart, from challenges related to new interpretations of modernity in American foreign policy.27 That is why American military assistance to Ghana took the form it did—limited almost exclusively to providing grants for Ghanaian officers and non-commissioned officers to travel to the United States for professional education and training. This assistance agenda persisted through the 1970s and 1980s though, suggesting that the ideological assumptions that first connected military education to modernity had deeper and sturdier roots than other American projects abroad.28 European and American definitions of “modernity” had long justified imperial behavior, but the modernization that American foreign policymakers described in the 1960s threaded so- called “realist” concerns with national power with a new faith in the psychological transformation to modernity that social scientists proposed. Since the 17th century, Europeans had equated their technology—especially their military technology—with social and cultural superiority, even applying “scientific” criteria as they did.29 The development of free labor, universalist concepts of culture, and abstract notions of equality that accompanied nineteenth century definitions of modernity simultaneously implied “backwardness” for the “primitive societies” in European colonial crosshairs.30 American imperialists also employed this version of modernity, sometimes softened for domestic consumption by claiming a “civilizing mission,” to justify the United States’ expansion across the western plains, the Pacific, and Latin America in 27 Bundy, “239. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa”; Lloyd Garrison, “Nkrumah Seeks U.S. Aid Decision: Asks Action on Ghana River Project by Oct. 13,” New York Times, October 3, 1961; “232. Kennedy to Ball; FRUS 1961- 1963 Vol. XXI Africa,” 355; Elizabeth A. Cobbs, “Decolonization, the Cold War, and the Foreign Policy of the Peace Corps,” Diplomatic History 20, no. 1 (1996): 79; Michael E Latham, Modernization as Ideology: American Social Science and “Nation Building” in the Kennedy Era (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2000), 8. 28 Latham, Modernization as Ideology, ix. 29 Michael Adas, Machines as the Measure of Men: Science, Technology, and Ideologies of Western Dominance (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1989); Michael Adas, Dominance by Design: Technological Imperatives and America’s Civilizing Mission (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2006); David Ekbladh, The Great American Mission: Modernization and the Construction of an American World Order (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2009). 30 Chandan Reddy, “Modern,” in Keywords for American Cultural Studies, ed. Bruce Burgett and Glenn Hendler (New York: New York University Press, 2007), 160. 13 the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.31 After 1945, American foreign policy equated the modernizing mission in contested new states into a life or death struggle against communism.32 Increasingly throughout the 1950s, a coalition of federally funded economists, sociologists, historians, and political scientists mingled around influential universities, including Princeton, the University of Chicago, and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s Center for International Studies to articulate new applications in “developing states” for their theory of modernization.33 Energetic Cold Warriors and self-assured social scientists formally united in the Kennedy administration, and modernization theory guided American foreign policy with the force of ideology for nearly a decade.34 It was through the lens of modernization ideology that Kennedy and his cabinet devised their strategy for the cascade of African states emerging from colonialism—nineteen between 1960 and 1961 alone.35 Despite massive upheaval in its domestic political situation and international influence, Ghana selected military personnel for American-sponsored education and training programs without interruption after 1962. This relationship was unusually persistent and constant, but it was also small; rarely did more than forty Ghanaian military personnel come to the U.S. in any 31 Adas, Dominance by Design; Richard White, “It’s Your Misfortune and None of My Own”: A New History of the American West (Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Press, 1993); Ekbladh, The Great American Mission. 32 Thomas J. McCormick, America’s Half-Century: United States Foreign Policy in the Cold War and After (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1995), chap. 4; George F Kennan, American Diplomacy, Expanded ed (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984); W. W Rostow, The Process of Economic Growth: A Non-Communist Manifesto, 2d ed (Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1960); James Cronin, The World the Cold War Made: Order, Chaos, and the Return of History (New York: Routledge, 1996); Westad, The Global Cold War, 24; On whether the United States really had the world’s best interests in mind, see William Appleman Williams, The Tragedy of American Diplomacy (New York: Norton, 1988); Kolko, Confronting the Third World. 33 Daniel Lerner, The Passing of Traditional Society: Modernizing the Middle East (Glencoe, IL: Free Press, 1958); Among the most influential: Max F. Millikan and Walt W. Rostow, A Proposal: Key to an Effective Foreign Policy (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1957); Lucian W. Pye, Guerrilla Communism in Malaya, Its Social and Political Meaning (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1956); Rostow, The Process of Economic Growth: A Non- Communist Manifesto; Nick Cullather, “Modernization Theory,” in Explaining the History of American Foreign Relations (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 212–20; See also, Nils Gilman, Mandarins of the Future: Modernization Theory in Cold War America, New Studies in American Intellectual and Cultural History (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2003); Latham, Modernization as Ideology. 34 Latham, Modernization as Ideology. 35 By 1962, 31 of the UN General Assembly’s 110 members were from Africa. Muehlenbeck, Betting on the Africans, xi. 14 year.36 Ghanaian political and military leaders claimed varying levels of autonomy in describing this partnership with the United States, but they defended their relationship and appealed to it to access other American resources. They did so because they shared common assumptions about military professionalism, broadly conceived, and transnational education that I call Military Internationalism. Ghanaian and American leaders’ justifications differed and evolved, especially as Ghana slowly developed its own capacity to provide similar training to its own soldiers and to soldiers from elsewhere in Africa, but Ghana offers a unique view of the program’s ideological assumptions that changed surprisingly little. Identities: Transnationalism, Military Internationalism, Modernity, and Diaspora This work posits that the best way to describe the policies and people in international military settings is by examining the identity that grew around those settings. Arriving at the conclusion that I am actually describing a transnational identity marked by internationalism and accessible only through military travel, however, requires some clarification of terms. First, I acknowledge the danger of choosing to analyze or describe an identity, but the term does useful work.37 I am not trying to interject my own pet identity—internationalism facilitated by military travel—onto the list of identities already in widespread academic use (nation, ethnicity, gender, class, etc.). The identity I describe even fits, somewhat, Rogers Brubaker and Frederick Cooper’s criteria of candidates for improved replacement labels, including: self-understanding changing as a result of external experience; commonality, connectedness, or membership in a group; even a “transnational issue network,” formed around a 36 Between 1962 and 1970, for example, 81 of 739 American-trained African military students (in all specialties at all locations) were Ghanaian. Worldwide in the same time period, the US trained 185,000 military students. Harry O. Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report (McLean, VA: General Research Corporation, Tactical Warfare Operations, March 1979), 103. 37 Rogers Brubaker and Frederick Cooper, “Beyond ‘Identity,’” Theory and Society 29, no. 1 (February 1, 2000): 1– 47. 15 moral core and crossing cultural and state boundaries.38 Military internationalism is not a bounded group, network, or a cultural category in the sense of nation, race, or class, however. One could not claim it or claim to belong to it; nor did it require an “other” in order to coalesce.39 Instead, I suggest that the international experience reveals weaknesses in other identities that need to be accounted for—nationality among the most prominent—and that the internationalism that emerges is closer to “real” than previously assumed. Military Internationalism fits Kwame Appiah’s definition of identity: “one among other salient modes of being, all of which have to be constantly fought for and rethought.”40 Such an identity may linger in remission, waiting for a person to acknowledge and grasp, as historical circumstances require. Further, Appiah’s description of identity acknowledges the myths and lessons that make it powerful, personal, and historically dangerous. Identities are complex, multiple, and grow out of changing responses to economic, political, and cultural forces, and usually in opposition to other identities, for example. They flourish despite our own misrecognition of their origins. They stubbornly resist reason, which makes them a challenge to intellectuals whose task it is to disrupt discourses built on “racial” or “tribal” difference.41 Military Internationalism also matches Appiah’s prescription for identity: that the strength behind identities comes not from inventing self-isolating ones, but by constructing alliances across states and other identities.42 Doing so requires an act of will, he argues; a conscious response to a sense of obligation to others that he calls “Cosmopolitanism.”43 As an 38 Ibid., 1. 39 MacGonagle makes group belonging central to Ndau identity, for example. Elizabeth MacGonagle, Crafting Identity in Zimbabwe and Mozambique (Rochester, NY: University of Rochester Press, 2007), 2; Micol Seigel, Uneven Encounters: Making Race and Nation in Brazil and the United States, American Encounters/Global Interactions (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2009), 96. 40 Kwame Anthony Appiah, In My Father’s House: Africa in the Philosophy of Culture (New York: Oxford University Press, 1992), 177. 41 Ibid., 178–179. 42 Ibid., 180. 43 Appiah, Cosmopolitanism, xx. 16 ethical approach, Appiah’s sense of cosmopolitanism permits relational, regional, and even national identities to persist alongside universal or global senses of communitarianism in ways that challenge older definitions of cosmopolitanism that emphasize an intentional embrace of divergent experiences for the purpose of welcoming contrasts rather than uniformity.44 But the way both Ghanaian military travelers and American volunteers around military bases expressed instrumental purposes for their international cooperation strains even Appiah’s definition for cosmopolitanism. Ghanaian men and women genuinely imagined themselves part of a global community, but also employed their relationship to the Ghanaian state to maximize their own political and economic freedom. Likewise, prominent members of People-to-People boasted that their “Mid-western hospitality” embracing international visitors made them the ideal Americans. When they described themselves as “cosmopolitan,” they idealized their regional identity, declaring an internationalism that, they crowed, “a visitor might not anticipate.”45 Celebrating one identity over another violates the essence of cosmopolitanism in its anthropological sense, which encourages individuals to resist the pressure to privilege those nearest to themselves and to seek the other.46 Therefore, even though the participants sometimes used the word to describe themselves, I consider the global identity military travel revealed international rather than cosmopolitan. 44 Ibid., xvi–xx; Urban anthropologist Ulf Hannerz rejects the possibility that nationalism can coexist with cosmopolitanism. Ulf Hannerz, “Cosmopolitans and Locals in World Culture,” in Global Culture: Nationalism, Globalization and Modernity: A Theory Culture and Society Special Issue, ed. Mike Featherstone (London: SAGE, 1990), 239; Skrbis and Woodward acknowledge Appiah’s influence over their own contention that cosmopolitanism and patriotism need not necessarily exclude one another because, as they say, “cosmopolitan theories of world citizenship have often failed to ground themselves within the actual world.” Zlatko Skrbiš and Ian Woodward, Cosmopolitanism: Uses of the Idea (London: SAGE, 2013), 32, 39. 45 Unknown, “Wheat Belt Internationalism,” People, the People to People News, August 1964, 23, Kansas City Public Library, Missouri Valley Special Collections. 46 Gavin Kendall, Ian Woodward, and Zlatko Skrbis, The Sociology of Cosmopolitanism: Globalization, Identity, Culture and Government (Basingstoke, UK: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009), 1. 17 This work employs transnational and international analyses of the history of American foreign relations to evaluate that identity’s origin.47 This is not an obvious approach, even though American foreign assistance policy to poorer states was always an international concern. Transnational and international histories are broader both vertically and horizontally. They include in their scope groups of elites and sub-elites, and they evaluate evidence from as many different locales as possible to tell stories that are more complete. Their primary purpose is not simply to augment the history of the interactions of nation-states; rather they respatialize the historical narrative to include broader spectra of social scales, both larger and smaller than the nation.48 Transnational histories consider the nation-state an essential layer of foreign relations and foreign policy, but not the only one, and often not the dynamic one.49 I still must explain how elite policymakers at the national level devised and idealized the United States’ massive foreign aid program, and the prominence military educational exchanges played in that program. The state, formal inter-state agreements, and multilateral organizations like the United Nations that reified the nation-state system of sovereignty and leaned heavily on nation-states as primary actors were still essential, and I include them here as well.50 The actors in this work never wholly escaped the shadow that the United States, Ghana, or the United Nations cast over their options, and so it is appropriate to call this an international, rather than transnational, history.51 47 See, for example, Thomas Bender, ed., Rethinking American History in a Global Age (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002); Gary W Reichard and Ted Dickson, eds., America on the World Stage: A Global Approach to U.S. History (Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2008). 48 Thomas Bender, “Introduction: Historians, the Nation, and the Plenitude of Narratives,” in Rethinking American History in a Global Age, ed. Thomas Bender (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002), 8. 49 Thomas W. Zeiler, “Just Do It! Globalization for Diplomatic Historians,” Diplomatic History 25, no. 4 (2001): 531; Jose C. Moya, Cousins and Strangers: Spanish Immigrants in Buenos Aires, 1850-1930 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), 4. 50 See Hedley Bull, “The State’s Positive Role in World Affairs,” Daedalus 108, no. 4 (October 1, 1979): 112. 51 Mazower suggests the blend of international organizations, trans- or sub-national organizations, and the meta- structures of international cooperation might better be called “intergovernmentalism.” Mark Mazower, Governing the World: The History of an Idea (New York: Penguin Press, 2012), xiii. 18 On the other hand, for the individuals in the story, the national, local, and the global entwined. The communities we examine here were neither fully within nor simply larger than their nation-states.52 Often, just as Micol Seigel recognizes in Uneven Encounters, “people gazed out at each other to understand themselves as national beings, using their viewfinders to locate useful touch points.” They did so, however, “not as representatives of their national units but as members of other social formations, imagining themselves in relation to and in solidarity with one another.”53 This is the transnational perspective.54 It seeks cultural aspects of international politics, non-elite agency, and hybridity. Transnational histories use methods of social history to follow actors across borders and examine how non-national or super-national factors shaped their understanding. Military Internationalism crystallized assumptions about military professionalism, transnational education, the limited importance of the state, and the problematic assumption of nationalism between individuals involved in military exchanges. In American communities around Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, for example, state-approved programs for international officers required and blessed local volunteers—not state employees, and often women—who in turn celebrated their independence from the state and seized further initiative from the state to share their own version of Americanism that was both regional (Mid-Western) and transnational. Here it becomes apparent that evolving transnational historiographies often align imperfectly across subjects. Terms like “international,” “transnational,” and “modern” signify 52 Seigel, Uneven Encounters, xii; Bender, Rethinking American History in a Global Age; Nathan J. Citino, “The Global Frontier: Comparative History and the Frontier-Borderlands Approach,” in Explaining the History of American Foreign Relations (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 195; Akira Iriye, Cultural Internationalism and World Order (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1997), 7; Ron Robin, “The Exhaustion of Enclosures: A Critique of Internationalization,” in Rethinking American History in a Global Age, ed. Thomas Bender (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002), 370; Micol Seigel, “Beyond Compare: Comparative Method after the Transnational Turn,” Radical History Review 2005, no. 91 (December 21, 2005): 62– 90. 53 Seigel, Uneven Encounters, xii. 54 Ibid., 12. 19 different historiographical truces for scholars of American foreign relations than for scholars of the African diaspora, for example. David Korang’s Writing Ghana, Imagining Africa defines “internationalism” as the “tendency for the global imposition of the nation-form,” with emphasis on the negative connotation of “imposition.”55 For Akira Iriye, on the other hand, “internationalism” describes people and groups seeking an alternative community of nations joined through cultural interchanges rather than power politics.56 Similarly, American scholars label as “transnational” histories that refuse to confine themselves to artificially derived national containers and recognize that migration, trade, tourism, technology, capital, and ideas spread even without—or in spite of—national boundaries to cross.57 Iriye’s “cultural internationalism” qualifies as “transnational” here. In diaspora studies, on the other hand, “transnationality” describes an identity that merges physical presence outside home with national resources that have power to bind people and communities across distances.58 Detachment, willingness to participate or be part of multiple places, or simultaneous presence in multiple worlds—these are the marks of the transnational diasporic identity. In describing Military Internationalism as an identity, I combine the commitment to a transnational global community that presents an alternative to formal national structures, but that also requires national cooperation for 55 Kwaku Larbi Korang, Writing Ghana, Imagining Africa: Nation and African Modernity, Rochester Studies in African History and the Diaspora (Rochester, NY: University of Rochester Press, 2003), 70. 56 Iriye, Cultural Internationalism and World Order, 2. 57 Bender, “Introduction: Historians, the Nation, and the Plenitude of Narratives,” 3–10; Akira Iriye, “Internationalizing International History,” in Rethinking American History in a Global Age, ed. Thomas Bender (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002), 51. 58 John A. Arthur, African Diaspora Identities: Negotiating Culture in Transnational Migration (Lanham, MD: Lexington Books, 2010), 152–155; Emmanuel Akyeampong, “‘Diasporas,’ Mobility and the Social Imaginary: Getting Ahead in West Africa,” Journal of Third World Studies 27, no. 1 (Spring 2010): 25; Kamari Maxine Clarke, “New Spheres of Transnational Formations: Mobilizations of Humanitarian Diasporas,” Transforming Anthropology 18, no. 1 (2010): 48; Mohamed A. M. Dosi, Leonce Rushubirwa, and Garth A. Myers, “Tanzanians in the Land of Oz: Diaspora and Transnationality in Wichita, Kansas,” Social & Cultural Geography 8, no. 5 (October 2007): 667; Leif O. Manger and Munzoul A. M. Assal, “Diasporas Within and Without Africa--Dynamism, Heterogeneity, Variation,” in Diasporas Within and Without Africa: Dynamism, Heterogeneity, Variation, ed. Lief O. Manger and Munzoul A. M. Assal (Uppsala: Nordiska Afrikainstitutet, 2006), 16; Janet MacGaffey and Rémy Bazenguissa- Ganga, Congo-Paris: Transnational Traders on the Margins of the Law (Oxford: James Currey, 2000). 20 administrative sustenance. It is “internationalism” in Iriye’s sense, but also in its ongoing reliance on formal state cooperation. Dense thickets of meaning also obscure the term “modernity,” depending where one stands. Historian Frederick Cooper recognizes at least three conflicting historiographical senses: Modernity alternately represented Europe’s civilizational legacy to the world (delivered via empire), or the bundle of Western-derived social, political, and ideological imperial constructs that “sterilizes the rich diversity of humanity.”59 Non-Western peoples might also describe modernity as a hybrid of their own cultural forms that merged their traditions with external perspectives on progress to represent their own self-consciously distinct programs.60 This dissertation recognizes an essential distinction between modernity (or modernization) as an ideological imposition upon African objects and modernity as a vocabulary that Ghanaians adopted in order for their claims to be recognized. The same word imputes very different levels of agency onto actors, but in most cases in the twentieth century, becoming “modern” equated to “improvement.”61 Even when the actors themselves used the term, the meaning did not always speak for itself. In 1959, for example, the Ghana Military Academy allotted more time to “Modern Subjects” than History, Mathematics, Science, or French in its curriculum. 62 In 1961, the American defense attaché to Ghana admired a textbook on “Modern Civilization” among the batch of books he presented as a gift to the Ghana Military Academy.63 In those cases, “modern” 59 Frederick Cooper, Colonialism in Question: Theory, Knowledge, History (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2005), 113. 60 Ibid. 61 Peter Braham, Key Concepts in Sociology, SAGE Key Concepts (London: SAGE, 2013), 7. 62 Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism, Revised (London: Verso, 2006), 116–121. 63 See introduction to chapter 2. Francis K. Russell, “News Release by United States Embassy, Accra; September 11, 1961; Subject: Remarks of the American Ambassador Mr. Francis K. Russell at the Presentation of Books to the Ghana Military Academy” (Burma Camp, Accra, September 11, 1961), RG 14/4/506 Ghana Military Academy; document 201, PRAAD. 21 signified “legitimate knowledge,” and at least three different parties in post-colonial Ghana vied for the authority to define it—post-colonial nationalists under President Kwame Nkrumah, Ghana’s British-educated military elite, and American foreign policymakers.64 In another case, when a Ghanaian Army officer declared in 1969, “Modern military leaders should have the breadth of outlook, cultural background and sound judgment which surpasses fundamental soldiery qualities,” he appropriated the well-worn grooves of the “modern military” from American and British social science-turned-foreign policy to prepare the ground for a return to military rule, should Ghana’s second republic fail to match the military’s imagined aptitude for governance.65 In the United States in the late 1950s, intellectuals behind modernization theory erected an entire taxonomy for what constituted “traditional” versus “modern”—the latter condition indicated by devotion to compound interest, Newtonian physics, and “high mass consumption”—and proposed a set of universally applicable steps to regulate the process.66 Despite defining supposedly objective benchmarks for measuring and comparing societies in the stages after “takeoff,” when modernization theorists said “modern,” they meant “Western.”67 And when American political scientists and military assistance planners in the 1970s and 1980s routinely acknowledged no clear evidence that new states’ militaries were also “modernizers,” they employed the self-evident category of “modern” military technology—which only a small 64 Anderson, Imagined Communities, 116–126. 65 Lt Col C. R. Tachie-Menson, “Education of Military Leaders,” Ghana Armed Forces Magazine, October 1969, 12, Bibliothek der Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung, Bonn, Germany; Samuel P. Huntington, The Soldier and the State: The Theory and Politics of Civil-Military Relations (Cambridge, MA: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1957); Samuel P. Huntington, Changing Patterns of Military Politics, International Yearbook of Political Behavior Research, v. 3 (New York: Free Press of Glencoe, 1962); Morroe Berger, Military Elite and Social Change (Princeton, NJ: Center for International Studies, Princeton University, 1960); John J. Johnson, ed., The Role of the Military in Underdeveloped Countries (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1962); William F. Gutteridge, Military Institutions and Power in the New States (New York: Praeger, 1965). 66 Rostow, The Process of Economic Growth: A Non-Communist Manifesto Compound interest: p. 7, 59; Newton: 4; “high mass consumption” is the final stage . 67 Braham, Key Concepts in Sociology, 7–8; Edward Shils, “The Military in the Political Development of the New States,” in The Role of the Military in Underdeveloped Countries, ed. John J. Johnson (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1962), 10–11; Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 12, 146; Reddy, “Modern,” 161. 22 number of states were capable of producing—in the much less clear metaphor of what comprised “modern” political stability.68 “Modernization” also provides a short cut into the historiography of American intervention in the global South throughout the twentieth century, but demonstrates how neat terms and bounded historiographies get messy when explored from the bottom up. American scholars such as Nils Gilman, David Ekbladh, Nick Cullather, and Michael Latham all argue that the transformation American foreign policymakers intended for the world was primarily psychological.69 Paradoxically, then, the programs they devised to bring about this transformation were not pragmatic, as they imagined, but also reflected their own psychological assumptions about modernity and progress. That is one reason they so often used the term “developing” to describe target or client states: in order to demonstrate the process of modernization, they first infantilized those societies rhetorically.70 Akira Iriye warns, however, that just because U.S. universities during the Cold War designed some academic programs for foreign students to popularize the ideology of liberal capitalism through the concept of modernization, participants did not necessarily see the experience so.71 Instead, he suggests, “through educational exchanges, thousands of young men and women were sharing similar intellectual experiences and developing a vocabulary through which they could engage in meaningful interactions.”72 Prominent American social scientists in the late 1950s and 1960s 68 Samuel P. Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1973), 193; Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, 13; Richard F. Grimmett, Foreign Assistance and Related Programs Appropriations for 1986 (House: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1985), 432; Bruce E. Arlinghaus, Military Development in Africa: The Political and Economic Risks of Arms Transfers (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1984), 8; J. Bayo Adekson, “Pay, Promotion, and Other Self-Interests of Military Intervention in Politics,” Military Affairs 45, no. 1 (February 1, 1981): 21; Robert A. Packenham, Liberal America and the Third World: Political Development Ideas in Foreign Aid and Social Science (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1973), 228; Samuel Decalo, “Military Rule in Africa: Etiology and Morphology,” in Military Power and Politics in Black Africa, ed. Simon Baynham (London: Croom Helm, 1986), 41. 69 Gilman, Mandarins of the Future; Ekbladh, The Great American Mission; Cullather, The Hungry World; Cullather, “Modernization Theory”; Latham, Modernization as Ideology. 70 I use the term only when quoting or paraphrasing the scholars or policymakers. 71 Iriye, Cultural Internationalism and World Order, 155. 72 Ibid., 156. 23 thought they had devised a recipe for universal, transferrable stages for modernizing the “developing world,” but even they acknowledged that the first acts of modernization must be personal and mental.73 Global events in the 1960s dissolved their certainty and eroded their influence. Meanwhile, three decades of historians have questioned whether “modernization” offered anything at all to those states, or really said more about the people making the policies.74 Contemporary actors had specific meanings in mind when they used the term “modern,” and this work acknowledges them. Those meanings had a history even then; and now they have a historiography. But modernity also has a meaning for historians looking backward, and I use the word to describe processes of change that actually shaped people’s lives even when they did not use it. C. A. Bayly argues that part of being modern was deciding to be modern, or at least that one lived in a modern world.75 Bayly, Peter Braham, Chandan Reddy, and Frederick Cooper would agree on some characteristics of “modernity”—mass citizenship, industrialization, bureaucracy, and secularization within bounded nation-states in the abstract; health facilities, education, and access to markets more specifically.76 But more than simply exposing parts of the world the West “left behind,” modernity provided a language to base claims against the West— as in, “if you think we should be modern, help us find the means.”77 Ghanaian families who participated in military-sponsored international travel absorbed external standards for the modern military and the modern family, but they also employed that travel to base claims against those international structures for the tools to attain that modernity. This is the sense in which I employ the concept of “modernity,” then: concentrating not on the theory of difference, but as a policy.78 73 Lerner, The Passing of Traditional Society; Millikan and Rostow, A Proposal: Key to an Effective Foreign Policy; Rostow, The Process of Economic Growth: A Non-Communist Manifesto; Pye, Guerrilla Communism in Malaya, Its Social and Political Meaning. 74 Cooper, Colonialism in Question. 75 C. A. Bayly, The Birth of the Modern World: 1780-1914 (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2004), 10. 76 Ibid., 11; Reddy, “Modern,” 161; Braham, Key Concepts in Sociology, 7–8; Cooper, Colonialism in Question, 131. 77 Cooper, Colonialism in Question, 113, 131. 78 Ibid., 131. 24 In the ways they attached to American communities or combined international military travel with diasporic strategies for personal or family improvement, Ghanaian soldiers and their families also moved fluidly between local, national, and global identities. The weak Ghanaian state’s drastic fluctuations in the three decades after independence compelled such fluidity. Even the very existence of a Ghanaian “nation” during those years is far from settled; meanwhile scholars lament the nation-form itself as colonialism’s lingering curse on Africa.79 On one hand, as the product of British education, training, and organization, the Ghanaian army represented both the “colonial-school-generated nationalism” and successor/heir to the colonial system Benedict Anderson identifies.80 Other traditions of Ghanaian nationalism, especially those Kwame Nkrumah championed, were “famously pan-African,” and “rather oddly unconnected with the Ghanaian state.”81 Given such weakness in the Ghanaian state, we should not be surprised to find alternate sources of military corporate identity, and find them in the same place we would look for other Ghanaians: abroad.82 New diaspora studies—especially those examining the post-independence African diaspora—rethink the conceptual boundaries of diaspora communities and reject paradigms requiring clearly bounded, isolated groups with clear-cut 79 Korang, Writing Ghana, Imagining Africa, 2–13; Michael Amoah, Reconstructing the Nation in Africa: The Politics of Nationalism in Ghana, International Library of African Studies 19 (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), 5. 80 Anderson, Imagined Communities, 120n. 81 Appiah, In My Father’s House, 162. 82 Akyeampong, “‘Diasporas,’ Mobility and the Social Imaginary”; Emmanuel Akyeampong, “Africans in the Diaspora: The Diaspora and Africa,” African Affairs 99, no. 395 (April 1, 2000): 183–215; Of course we could find competing ethnic identities within the Ghana Armed Forces as well. David Killingray, “Imagined Martial Communities: Recruiting for the Military and Police in Colonial Ghana, 1860-1960,” in Ethnicity in Ghana: The Limits of Invention, ed. Carola Lentz and Paul Nugent (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 2000), 119–36; Simon Baynham, The Military and Politics in Nkrumah’s Ghana (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1988); Eboe Hutchful, “Institutional Decomposition and Junior Ranks’ Political Action in Ghana,” in The Military and Militarism in Africa, ed. Eboe Hutchful and Abdoulaye Bathily (Dakar: Codesria, 1998), 211–56; Eboe Hutchful, “Reconstructing Civil-Military Relations and the Collapse of Democracy in Ghana, 1979-81,” African Affairs 96, no. 385 (October 1, 1997): 535–60; Eboe Hutchful, “A Tale of Two Regimes: Imperialism, the Military and Class in Ghana,” Review of African Political Economy, no. 14 (January 1, 1979): 36–55. 25 ethnic and racial categories.83 Instead of—or, at least, parallel to—a world of nations, a world of transnationalism, travel, and cross-cultural borrowing emerges.84 Using a diaspora approach to explain how Ghanaian families crafted transnational identities from the meaning they derived from international military travel leads back to the essence of transnationalism, identity, and internationalism. Despite their presence in an arguably proto-national organization, Ghanaian military families abroad and Ghanaian peacekeepers regularly ascribed transnational meanings to their international experiences. They shared with other families in American communities around military schools a devotion to cultural exchange, peaceful cooperation, education, and community service. On peacekeeping deployments or on the home front during their family members’ deployments, they expressed national pride sometimes, but tempered it with devotion to the United Nations as the most promising agency to deliver world peace. Iriye considers alternate, transnational routes toward peaceful cooperation the definition of internationalism, although he excludes or fails to recognize international military partnerships as legitimate participants in his definition.85 Perhaps they were too beholden to formal political structures to qualify as “transnational,” but the peaceful world that the individuals who joined them envisioned was not different. Military Internationalism represents the subversive presence of Akira Iriye’s “imagined world” of international organizations that reflect transnational concerns and strengthen the sense of global, human interdependence within the supposedly “real world” of competing sovereign states, power, and nations.86 “I have felt it would be useful,” Iriye writes in his essay 83 Manger and Assal, “Diasporas Within and Without Africa--Dynamism, Heterogeneity, Variation,” 7; Paul Tiyambe Zeleza, “Reconceptualizing African Diasporas: Notes from a Historian,” Transforming Anthropology 18, no. 1 (2010): 76. 84 Patrick Manning, The African Diaspora: A History through Culture (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), xvii. 85 Iriye, Cultural Internationalism and World Order, 2–3. 86 Akira Iriye, Global Community the Role of International Organizations in the Making of the Contemporary World (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2002), 7; Iriye, “Internationalizing International History,” 53. 26 “Internationalizing International History,” “to postulate the simultaneous existence of two worlds, one consisting of sovereign states as they have actually developed over time, and the other a putative global community, the product of forces of globalization.”87 Iriye's “imagined world” is distinctly different from Anderson's “imagined community” that segregates itself into the nation-state. Iriye suspects, and I agree, that what others think were the geopolitical triumphs of the “real world” in the twentieth century were actually short detours on the way toward the global “imagined world.”88 In this light, the temporary dominance of Modernization Theory over American foreign assistance policy in the early sixties, military coups in Ghana in 1966, 1972, 1979 and 1981, and the military balance of power between Israel, Egypt, and Lebanon may not have been the “real world” at all, but diversions on the road to the imagined world Iriye conjures. That helps explain why measuring and justifying America’s international military education program so befuddled policymakers for decades. This new understanding sets us looking for different evidence and provides us with a different standard to measure “results” in American military assistance policy in the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s, Ghanaian military participation in training, education, and peacekeeping abroad, and American communities embracing international military families. Senators and the State Department alike found little evidence that American international military education and training programs brought “political development” to target states in the global South, created “professional” or non-political militaries, or even bought Cold War allegiance.89 Neither do I. Education abroad or peacekeeping service alleviated some Ghanaian soldiers and their families’ economic and political stress in that time, but not permanently, and it did not restore democratic 87 Iriye, “Internationalizing International History,” 53. 88 Ibid. 89 “Political Development” and “Professionalism” were two of Huntington’s most influential contributions to the scholarship of civil-military relations in the 1960s and 1970s. Samuel P. Huntington, “Political Development and Political Decay,” World Politics 17, no. 3 (April 1, 1965): 386–430; Huntington, The Soldier and the State: The Theory and Politics of Civil-Military Relations, chap. 4; Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies. 27 rule promptly. Instead, I see evidence of the imagined world appearing, or re-appearing, as military travel connected individuals and groups from different lands who developed alternative communities based on their cultural interchanges.90 As historiographical terms, militarism and internationalism clash, so Military Internationalism requires careful explanation. Throughout the twentieth century, internationalists sought alternate solutions for interstate rivalries, arms races, and constant preparation for war.91 But the United States’ vast military assistance infrastructure often disguised imperial behavior during the Cold War.92 On the other hand, the Cold War did not impede postwar exchange programs of civilian students, scholars, or community leaders under programs like the Peace Corps or Fulbright, which Iriye considers “as good a symbol of cultural internationalism as any.”93 “Even if one could accept that Kennedy and Johnson were callous, scheming men,” Elizabeth Cobbs Hoffman asserts when describing the Peace Corps, “one still had to account for the tens of thousands of volunteers—who surely were not all CIA agents or naive dupes.”94 After 90 Minus “military travel,” this is Iriye’s definition of “cultural internationalism.” Iriye, Cultural Internationalism and World Order, 2. 91 Ibid., 184; Daniel Gorman, The Emergence of International Society in the 1920s (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012), 2–3; Mazower, Governing the World; Mark Mazower, “An International Civilization? Empire, Internationalism and the Crisis of the Mid-Twentieth Century,” International Affairs (Royal Institute of International Affairs 1944-) 82, no. 3 (May 1, 2006): 553–66; Erez Manela, The Wilsonian Moment: Self- Determination and the International Origins of Anticolonial Nationalism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009); Frank A Ninkovich, The Wilsonian Century: U.S. Foreign Policy Since 1900 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999), chap. 1; Emily S. Rosenberg, Spreading the American Dream (New York: Hill and Wang, 1982), 12; Cornelia Navari, Internationalism and the State in the Twentieth Century (London: Routledge, 2000). 92 Jane Burbank and Frederick Cooper, Empires in World History: Power and the Politics of Difference (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2010), 456; Holden, “The Real Diplomacy of Violence,” 285; Field, “Ideology as Strategy”; Lesley Gill, The School of the Americas: Military Training and Political Violence in the Americas, American Encounters/global Interactions (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2004); Rajen Harshe, “Africa: Trends in U.S. Imperialism,” Social Scientist 12, no. 11 (November 1, 1984): 19–33; Catherine Lutz, “Empire Is in the Details,” American Ethnologist 33, no. 4 (2006): 594; Simpson, Economists with Guns, 4; Westad, The Global Cold War; Williams, The Tragedy of American Diplomacy, chap. 8; Stanley Karnow, In Our Image: America’s Empire in the Philippines (New York: Random House, 1989); Lundestad argues that nations around the world chose American partnership rather than endured it. Geir Lundestad, “‘Empire by Invitation’ in the American Century,” Diplomatic History 23, no. 2 (1999): 189–217; Kenneth Alan Osgood, Total Cold War: Eisenhower’s Secret Propaganda Battle at Home and Abroad (Lawrence, KS: University of Kansas, 2006); Michael S Sherry, In the Shadow of War: The United States Since the 1930’s (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1995). 93 Iriye, Cultural Internationalism and World Order, 155. 94 Hoffmann, All You Need Is Love, 4. 28 carefully accounting for elites’ hegemonic motives for supporting cultural exchange programs from their impact on individuals, these programs still provided genuinely illuminating intellectual experiences in which men and women developed a vocabulary for meaningful interaction. International travel for military education and training did, too. Of course, some Americans considered deterrence and a strong national defense tools for peace, and supported international military education as a national security strategy, but this was not internationalism.95 Instead, American volunteers around military bases claimed that they “leaped governments” to bring about world peace. They celebrated their international friendships’ nation- blindness as the only true path to peace. Similarly, Ghanaian soldiers on UN peacekeeping missions in the Sinai and Lebanon expressed a genuine belief that they represented the best of the global community, and that their considerable sacrifices actually brought peace. Even though both American and Ghanaian actors developed alternate, transnational communities, in this story they never completely escaped the nation-bound infrastructure of international military travel. The American Defense and State Departments administered the International Military Education and Training program as a formal, bilateral, diplomatic arrangement. Each year, government officials justified the program’s goals specifically in terms of American foreign policy objectives and, to the extent they could, their projected impact in receiving countries. Military officers in the Ghanaian government carefully considered their national and corporate interests when employing international training assistance and participating in peacekeeping missions. Without nation-states, these exchanges and deployments could not occur. State power funded and regulated military individuals and their families’ physical movement. When Captain Henry Kwami Anyidoho brought his wife Mercy to the 95 Others, like Lerche, suggested American exceptionalism made internationalism look like isolationism, in the sense that Americans were “in the world, but not of it.” Charles O. Lerche, Jr., The Uncertain South (Chicago: Quadrangle Books, 1964), 20. 29 United States for training in 1975, for example, his military status permitted her to travel on the U.S. government’s nickel. Similarly, the Ghanaian state did not employ military courses overseas with universal intent. Potential uses included state-backed rewards as well as state-sponsored exile. In some ways, courses overseas were the state’s response to its own relative weakness domestically. On the other hand, nation-states had only partial control over content of those exchanges. Even then, when there were formal, state-driven curricula of knowledge to be imparted, the state, the community, and the individual families themselves interpreted the context of the exchange for themselves. Indeed, the state seemed to acknowledge and, to some extent, celebrate, its inability to regulate this context, reflecting an internationalist faith. This paradox—states’ ultimate lack of authority over the psychological essence of national military travel—is one of many that helps us better understand Military Internationalism. Americans made it their purpose to train thousands of international officers (and dozens of Ghanaian officers) for service in an ideal state not coincident with the states they actually represented. American policymakers, military trainers, and members of civilian communities around international military officers reconciled Ghanaian politics with their sense of purpose based on a combination of the “privilege of ignorance” Seigel describes and a basic preference for military rule over communism if democracy was in question.96 Much of the rhetoric surrounding American sponsor families at military schools was specifically post-state, non-state, extra-state, or anti-state. More than simply celebrating the common person, these Americans often celebrated the common person’s ability to create far more enduring bonds of friendship than the state could ever hope to (or at least to do it less expensively). Beyond that, as we shall see in the monthly newsletters from the Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People 96 Seigel, Uneven Encounters, 84. 30 International, American sponsor families rarely dwelled on the political legitimacy of sending states. Instead, they routinely celebrated universal aspirations for peace, cross-cultural understanding, and fellowship, and claimed that governments were actually obstacles to global cooperation. They understood that military officers represented their nations, and that their travel was nationally-sponsored, but imagined themselves not as representatives of their national units but as members of larger social formations—what Seigel calls “odd-shaped beasts, neither fully within nor simply larger than their nation-states.”97 Among the most startling paradoxes of Military Internationalism was how little American policymakers questioned the intangible, long-term benefits of international military exchanges despite little concrete evidence that they brought the modernization, professionalism, or allegiance they professed. The United States made no systematic effort to maintain contact or influence with international graduates of American military programs. Regularly after 1959, Defense and State Department officials proclaimed international military education programs “cost-effective,” but they never quantified what that meant. In the early 1960s, intellectual critics of military assistance resented that military educational assistance exceeded Fulbright and USAID educational exchange spending combined, but held out hope that they would eventually divert the “military” aspects of the program into “other socially useful activities.”98 As we will see, the U.S. international military education and training program never consumed more than a small percentage of American military assistance budgets, but it did not escape oversight or Congressional scrutiny. Instead, defenders of the program routinely touted its intangible benefits, “long term” results, and “relationships of a higher order” as above measurement, and above question. In other words, without saying so, they acknowledged that the “imagined world” that 97 Ibid., xii. 98 Charles Windle and T. R. Vallance, “Optimizing Military Assistance Training,” World Politics 15, no. 1 (October 1, 1962): 97. 31 Military Internationalism reflected defied the waves of ideological revision and fiscal realism symptomatic of American foreign policy in three decades after 1960. The way Military Internationalism engaged the regional at the expense of the national in support of the global presents a final paradox. Sponsor families around Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, were keen to adopt international officers and their families partly out of empathy for international visitors in general, but also because they believed that life in eastern Kansas and Kansas City offered a purer version of Americanism than visitors could obtain elsewhere in the United States. Volunteers in both the Greater Kansas City Chapter and the international headquarters of People-to-People promoted “Mid-western values” for being more welcoming, having more time for visitors, for accepting “the dark skinned student [or] the student in the funny robe” more readily than East or West Coast residents could. In 1962, they called this ethos “Wheat Belt Internationalism.”99 For women from Ghana and Kansas, “the personal was international.”100 Kansas City women leveraged their local prominence as volunteer sponsors into leadership positions in organizations supporting international families. Women who wrote “From the Fort” columns for the Leavenworth Times and the Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People International’s “Contact” newsletter offered their own interpretation for the meaning of international military travel. They seized the opening the language of volunteerism carved to make themselves central to the practice of citizen-diplomacy. For Ghanaian women, modernity imposed new expectations as partners, homemakers, and caregivers for military personnel, but international military service also opened opportunities for Ghanaian women to demand better access to the tools to meet those standards. Ghanaian soldiers’ wives (all Ghanaian peacekeepers before 1985 were male) 99 Unknown, “Wheat Belt Internationalism,” 23. 100 Cynthia H Enloe, Bananas, Beaches and Bases: Making Feminist Sense of International Politics (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000), chap. 9. 32 who lived in on-post communities and separate from their extended families became more independent, advanced their education, and developed new home-making skills in their husbands’ absence. Meanwhile, Ghanaian men and women leveraged the fiscal benefits of UN service or education abroad to build homes, start farms or business, and purchase appliances, cars, and business equipment to insulate them from Ghana’s heaving political and economic climate. Internationality, in other words, was an alternative to identities of nationalism and urbanization competing within Ghana during those decades, and we find Ghanaian military families expressing it in ways similar to other Ghanaians in the post-independence diaspora.101 As a social history of military subjects, some of the military terms we use are intentionally imprecise. Staff College, for example, meant different things in different countries. In the United States, it generally applied to schools for mid-grade officers, usually Majors and Lieutenant Colonels (i.e.: Command and General Staff College, Air Command and Staff College, Marine Corps Command and Staff College). These were often divisions of larger military educational structure, such as the Naval War College, Air University, or junior partners to other schools, such as the Army War College. The situation was similar in Ghana. The Ghana Armed Forces Command and Staff College included both a junior division and a senior division. The junior division began in 1963, but the senior division (for Majors and Lieutenant Colonels) received its first students in 1977. For the purpose of this dissertation, in order to keep the terms roughly similar, I use the term Staff College to refer to the senior division in Ghana, and the intermediate service schools like Fort Leavenworth’s Command and General Staff College in the United States or their equivalent in allied countries. 101 Akyeampong, “Africans in the Diaspora”; Akyeampong, “‘Diasporas,’ Mobility and the Social Imaginary”; Amoah, Reconstructing the Nation in Africa; Arthur, African Diaspora Identities; Manger and Assal, “Diasporas Within and Without Africa--Dynamism, Heterogeneity, Variation”; Takyiwaa Manu, “‘Efie’ or the Meanings of ‘Home’ Among Female and Male Ghanaian Migrants in Toronto, Canada and Returned Migrants to Ghana,” in New African Diasporas, ed. Khalid Koser (London: Routledge, 2003), 140–59; Zeleza, “Reconceptualizing African Diasporas.” 33 Similarly, the “Army” and “Armed Forces” were not the same either in the United States or in Ghana, but I sometimes interchange the terms here. Ghana has had a separate Air Force and Navy since 1961, but they have always been small, roughly ten percent of the Army’s size, which varied between about 7,000 in the early 1960s, grew to 14,600 by 1966, then slowly shrunk to 10,000 by 1981.102 All three shared Ghana’s Military Academy and Staff College, although all have separate training facilities as well. I do not intend to gloss over institutional difference between the services, especially since these differences are even more significant in the very large Armed Forces of the United States. This dissertation explores international military education from a national policy perspective and the communities around certain military facilities, however, not distinctions between the different services.103 Finally, written sources about Ghanaian military subjects are scarce and problematic. I received research funding from the United States Air Force Academy’s Directorate of Education research division and coordinated access to Ghana’s Staff College, Director of Public Relations, and Military Academy through the U.S. Embassy’s defense attaché office. I recognize that these military-sponsored resources demand careful attention to objectivity.104 But the sources’ own patchiness do as well. Even within the Ghana Armed Forces’ collections, access was gravely limited to extant collections (which were few), to the willingness of Ghana Armed Forces personnel to cooperate (which they seemed exceptionally willing to do), and the likelihood that little evidence that openly criticized Ghana’s military regimes would have reached me, if it survived at all. The Directorate of Public Relations for the Ghana Armed Forces maintains only a 102 Festus B. Aboagye, The Ghana Army: A Concise Contemporary Guide to Its Centennial Regimental History, 1897-1999 (Accra: Sedco, 1999), 119; S. Kojo Addae, History of Ghana Armed Forces: Military Organizations and Regiments, vol. 3, Military Histories (Accra, Ghana: Eureka Publications, c2010), 3. 103 For a similar justification, see Catherine Lutz, Homefront: A Military City and the American Twentieth Century (Boston: Beacon Press, 2001), 1, n. 1. 104 David Wiley, “Militarizing Africa and African Studies and the U.S. Africanist Response,” African Studies Review 55, no. 2 (2012): 147–61. 34 fraction of the Ghana Armed Forces News editions they published between 1967 and 1992. Other libraries around the world maintain other issues, but not with regularity. Although Ghana published journals from all of their peacekeeping contingents after 1979, only a few before 1990 survive. Finally, in all these official publications, women show up only when bidden, and we recognize that only filtered versions of their words appear printed in official Armed Forces publications. Memoirs (by male authors) describe Ghanaian families’ economic and political strategies as families, but Ghanaian military wives’ voices or Ghanaian women soldiers’ voices from this time period are very difficult to locate. On the other hand, if Ghanaians’ military service abroad resembled other Ghanaian migrant or travelling workers in other contexts, we recognize common strategies for Ghanaian military wives and Ghanaian women elsewhere in the diaspora.105 There was no necessary connection between what the Ghanaian officer experienced and what the United States expected its international officers’ program to achieve as an application of foreign policy. After 1966, Ghanaians as a whole may have quietly questioned the military’s legitimacy despite (or because of) its near-continuous hold on Ghana’s government, but the United States never discontinued its programs of military educational assistance. Abroad, Ghanaian officers’ status as students and recipients of international education did not change. Neither did their “mission” to translate those lessons back to Ghana, regardless of the uncertain legitimacy of military government. This constancy reveals as much about what the United States considered the role of the military in the modern nation-state as it does about Ghanaians themselves or the Ghanaian army. How Ghanaian officers interpreted the experience, or how it provided individual, corporate, and national resources in the form of a transnational or global 105 See, for example, Akyeampong, “‘Diasporas,’ Mobility and the Social Imaginary”; Manu, “‘Efie’ or the Meanings of ‘Home’ Among Female and Male Ghanaian Migrants in Toronto, Canada and Returned Migrants to Ghana”; Thomas Y. Owusu, “The Role of Ghanaian Immigrant Associations in Toronto, Canada,” International Migration Review 34, no. 4 (December 1, 2000): 1155–81. 35 identity, is a different question, wrapped up in the meanings of nationalism, modernity, and identity itself. 36 Part I Chapter 1: Modernization Ideology and the United States Military Assistance Program Military leaders are often far less suspicious of the West than civilian leaders because they themselves are more emotionally secure. This sense of security makes it possible for army leaders to look more realistically at their countries. All of these considerations make it easier for military leaders to accept the fact that their countries are weak and the West is strong without becoming emotionally disturbed or hostile toward the West. – Lucian W. Pye, “Armies in the Process of Political Modernization.”1 Introduction: International Military Education in the Decade of Development “With the signing into law of this bill, a Decade of Development begins,” President John F. Kennedy declared on September 4, 1961 as he autographed the Foreign Assistance Act of 1961.2 Seven months had passed since he took office, and in some ways Kennedy’s “Decade of Development” was already in full swing. Within weeks of the inauguration, his “Special Message to the Congress on Foreign Aid” and urgent-sounding State of the Union address had replaced “mutual security” with “development” as the justification for American foreign assistance, had claimed “the whole southern half of the globe” as the new battleground in the Cold War, and offered a compelling litany of priorities for the fight.3 Atop the list, Kennedy blasted the United States’ $3.2 billion security assistance program as “bureaucratically fragmented,” “awkward and slow,” “haphazard and irrational,” “obsolete, inconsistent and unduly rigid,” and he recommended “the replacement of those agencies with a new one—a fresh start under new leadership.”4 The Foreign Assistance Act was an essential first step, and all 1 Lucian W. Pye, “Armies in the Process of Political Modernization,” in The Role of the Military in Underdeveloped Countries, ed. John J. Johnson (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1962), 87–88. 2 John F Kennedy, “Statement by the President upon Signing the Foreign Assistance Act - September 4, 1961,” Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States 1961 (September 4, 1961): 588. 3 John F Kennedy, “Special Message to the Congress on Foreign Aid - March 22, 1961,” Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States 1961 (March 22, 1961): 205; John F. Kennedy, “Urgent National Needs; Address of the President of the United States” 87th Cong. 1st Sess, no. Doc. No. 174 (May 25, 1961): 2. 4 Kennedy, “Special Message to the Congress on Foreign Aid - March 22, 1961,” 203. 37 summer, Secretary of State Dean Rusk, Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, and assorted Under Secretaries and Deputies wrangled with Congressional committees to ensure its passage. Kennedy issued three orders the following day that demonstrate how tightly he correlated the Cold War to military assistance for the “southern half of the globe.” After ordering the resumption of underground nuclear testing, Kennedy demanded an update on the status of education and training programs for military officers from Latin America and Africa.5 Responding to a political crisis in Brazil, Kennedy announced, “As the events of the past week have shown in Brazil, the military occupy an extremely important strategic position in Latin America. I would like to know how many officers we are bringing up from Latin America to train here and whether we could increase the number.”6 He issued a National Security Action Memorandum requesting “what other steps we are taking to increase the intimacy between our Armed Forces and the military of Latin America,” and recommended creating programs to bring to the U.S. “a good many officers from the different countries of Latin America” for lessons in combating communism and subversion, controlling mobs, and fighting guerillas.7 “In addition to increasing their effectiveness,” Kennedy supposed, “it would also strengthen their ties with the United States.”8 As if completing that thought, Kennedy issued National Security Action Memorandum 89 moments later, demanding an update on “whether Mr. Nkrumah is going ahead with his plan to send 400 of his troops to the Soviet Union for training.”9 5 John F. Kennedy, “Statement by the President on Ordering Resumption of Underground Nuclear Tests - September 5, 1961,” Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States 1961 (September 5, 1961): 589. 6 John F Kennedy, “National Security Action Memorandum No. 88; Memorandum to the Secretary of Defense; Subject: Training for Latin American Armed Forces,” September 5, 1961, Federation of American Scientists Intelligence Resource Program, http://www.fas.org/irp/offdocs/nsam-jfk/index.html. 7 Ibid. 8 Ibid. 9 John F Kennedy, “National Security Action Memorandum No. 89; Memorandum to the Secretary of State; Subject: Soviet Training of Ghanaian Troops,” September 5, 1961, Federation of American Scientists Intelligence Resource Program, http://www.fas.org/irp/offdocs/nsam-jfk/index.html Specifically, Nkrumah proposed to send officer cadets to the Soviet Union, against the advice of his British expatriate Chief of Defense Staff (who was sacked later that month). 38 Those two concerns—Latin American officers training in the United States and the source of military training for Ghanaian cadets—reflected both old and new directions in American foreign policy in 1961. Providing training for military personnel in target countries had been an essential aspect of American military assistance in the decade prior to the “decade of development,” but Kennedy’s idea to bring as many of them as possible to the United States reflected a new faith in the potential for the United States to instill more than just combat skills. Likewise, Kennedy and his cabinet considered Ghana a bellwether for all of Africa. They acknowledged President Kwame Nkrumah’s influence as a Pan-African leader, and carefully considered the public relations impact of every aspect of U.S.-Ghanaian relations.10 Kennedy and Nkrumah had tangoed all summer. In March, after meeting Kennedy in Washington, Nkrumah declared, “We are anti-colonialists and we shall always remain so until all the colonialists are gone,” but, to calm American fears, “I think anti-colonialism was invented by the United States.”11 In April, Nkrumah gave Kennedy a “small miracle” by becoming the first world leader to invite Peace Corps volunteers, probably saving Kennedy’s high-profile program.12 By September, Nkrumah pressed Kennedy to confirm the United States’ offer to help fund the Volta River dam project while simultaneously offering (or threatening) to send up to four hundred army cadets to the Soviet Union for training.13 All sides accepted that military training abroad 10 Hilsman, “231. Memorandum From the Director of the Bureau of Intelligence and Research (Hilsman) to Secretary of State Rusk; Intelligence Note; Internal Dissention in Ghana; September 14, 1961,” in Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961-1963, vol. XXI Africa (Washington: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 354; William C. Trimble, “237. Memorandum From the Director of the Office of West African Affairs (Trimble) to the Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs (Williams), February 11, 1964,” in Volume XXIV: Africa, ed. Nina Davis Howland, vol. XXIV, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1964-1968 (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1999), 413–16; “238. Special National Intelligence Estimate; SNIE 64.1-61; PROSPECTS FOR GHANA; November 16, 1961,” in Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961-1963, vol. XXI Africa (Washington: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 363–64; See, for example, Bundy, “239. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa”; Bundy, “240. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa”; See also Gaines, American Africans in Ghana, 5–24; Hoffmann, All You Need Is Love, 157. 11 Quoted in Dana Adams Schmidt, “Nkrumah Confers At White House; Backs U.N. Effort,” New York Times (1923-Current File), 03-09 1961, 3. 12 Cobbs, “Decolonization, the Cold War, and the Foreign Policy of the Peace Corps”; Hoffmann, All You Need Is Love, 151. 13 “232. Kennedy to Ball; FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa,” 355. 39 denoted states’ strategic alignment in the Cold War, but more than that, Kennedy and his advisors believed that military training caused lasting psychological and emotional transformations that could propagate throughout a society.14 This was why they were so keen to maximize the number of officers from Latin America attending training in the United States and so concerned over Nkrumah’s plan to send cadets to Russia. This chapter explores how training and education for foreign military personnel in the United States came to assume such strategic and psychological significance in the early 1960s. It argues that influential academic elites, guided by modernization theory, integrated prior American assumptions about the military as a modern institution in the late 1950s, and they restructured foreign assistance policy in the 1960s to make international military education and training a preferred method to transform visiting elites from target states into “modern” men and American allies at a low cost. These programs tapped into the deeply held assumption that life among American communities spontaneously conveyed the same political, economic, and social values which American social scientists later equated with modernity, and which helps explain the persistence of international military education programs long after modernization theory declined in influence. American military assistance programs had implicitly accepted American communities’ power to transform visiting military personnel from underdeveloped countries for half a century. That faith paralleled other American assumptions about the psychological power of military defeat to goad the underdeveloped world to choose to modernize.15 These two beliefs merged 14 John F Kennedy, “National Security Action Memorandum No. 119; Memorandum to the Secretary of State and Secretary of Defense; Subject: Civic Action,” December 18, 1961, Federation of American Scientists Intelligence Resource Program, http://www.fas.org/irp/offdocs/nsam-jfk/index.html; Daniel Lerner and Richard D. Robinson, “Swords and Ploughshares: The Turkish Army as a Modernizing Force,” World Politics 13, no. 1 (October 1, 1960): 34; Windle and Vallance, “Optimizing Military Assistance Training,” 94. 15 See also, Ekbladh, The Great American Mission; Ian Tyrrell, Reforming the World: The Creation of America’s Moral Empire (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2010); Mazower, Governing the World; Gilman, Mandarins of the Future; Cullather, The Hungry World. 40 powerfully in the late 1950s, as American military assistance programs expanded rapidly in the Cold War’s heat and as a coalition of professional academics and policymakers applied new theories of economic development to American foreign policy. With funding from an often- opaque alliance of philanthropic foundations, research universities, and the CIA, a core of influential historians, sociologists, economists, and political scientists developed a theory—or ideology—of modernization, which articulated a collection of assumptions about the nature of American society, and its ability to transform the economically and culturally deficient world.16 The great, founding projects of modernization theory connected economic development in poorer nations to eventual success in the Cold War, but they were not, essentially, about economics.17 Modernization was both an ideology and a discourse, and it dictated strategies in foreign aid, trade, counterinsurgency, and nationalism that were partly economic, partly political, but largely mental.18 Academics such as Walt Whitman Rostow, Lucian Pye, and Daniel Lerner became policymakers after Kennedy’s election in 1960, and they applied modernization theory to all aspects of American foreign policy as a result. When modernization theorists in the Kennedy administration asserted control over military assistance policy, especially those parts of American military assistance that sponsored foreign military personnel for training in the United States, they were not inventing a new purpose for military assistance. Instead, they re-imagined the role for military forces in newly decolonized states away from intimidation and coercion into a kind of institutional bridge. A new ideological emphasis on economic and political development could supplement preexisting programs that connected the U.S. armed forces with the “new states’” national militaries. Development theorists used American military assistance programs as vehicle to transfer 16 Cullather, “Modernization Theory,” 213–217; Latham, Modernization as Ideology, 5, 55. 17 Lerner, The Passing of Traditional Society; Rostow, The Process of Economic Growth: A Non-Communist Manifesto. 18 Cullather, “Modernization Theory,” 213, 217. 41 “modern” ideas about technology, rational organization of society, and citizenship directly from Westerners onto new states’ emerging military elites.19 In the larger context of the 1960s, which often rationalized military force in the service of modernization projects, programs that targeted specific military individuals for lessons in modernity thrived.20 This chapter describes the two essential transformations that had to occur in order for this to happen. First, modernization theorists wrested control of the massive American military assistance program of the 1950s from “unimaginative” and security-minded bureaucrats in the Eisenhower Administration, Defense, and State Departments. Second, those theorists supplied military assistance with a new reserve of intellectual credibility—or at least the opportunity to reframe the American Cold War foreign policy debate away from a defensive focus on “security” to match their program of transforming the world through economic development. Modernization theory fueled the great, often tragic projects of American foreign policy in the first half of the 1960s, but behind the projects lay assumptions about what made modernized people, and what role those people played in hoisting their societies into modernity. Massive development programs, including the Alliance For Progress, TVA-style resettlement in Afghanistan’s Helmand Valley, and the “strategic hamlets” on the Mekong River typified the lofty, often faulty, ideologically-driven “Economists with Guns” at the tragic height of their power.21 In the heyday of authoritarian high modernization, there was no distinction between hydraulic and social engineering, dam builders achieved the status of a technocratic warrior elite, 19 Walt W. Rostow, The Diffusion of Power: An Essay in Recent History (New York: Macmillan, 1972); Lerner and Robinson, “Swords and Ploughshares”; Walt W. Rostow, “94. Memorandum From the President’s Deputy Special Assistant for National Security Affairs (Rostow) to President Kennedy; February 28, 1961; Subject: Crucial Issues in Foreign Aid,” in Foreign Economic Policy, vol. IX, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961-1963 (Washington D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 204–9; Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 50. 20 Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 50; Westad, The Global Cold War. 21 Latham, Modernization as Ideology; Cullather, The Hungry World; Ekbladh, The Great American Mission, chap. 6; Simpson, Economists with Guns. 42 ideology was strategy, and “developmental dictatorships” were preferable to vulnerable democracies.22 Not all projects of modernization theory occurred overseas, or with such tragic consequences. American military assistance, including education and training of foreign military personnel, occurred in hundreds of places. For many soldiers, especially in Southeast Asia and Latin America, American military training came to them.23 For thousands of others, officers and enlisted—up to 15,000 per year, some years—the United States paid for their travel and training in America. Especially in countries where the U.S. had few military assets, little capacity to project military power, but the desire to influence policy, International Military Education and Training was the only program of U.S. military assistance. The U.S. had such a relationship with Ghana, Nigeria, Mali, Senegal, Niger, Ivory Coast, and Liberia between the early 1960s and 1990.24 In Ghana, despite twenty-five years of military regimes—some with American support, some without—alternating with brief interludes of civilian government, American military assistance policy based solely on training exchanges sturdily weathered great changes in American foreign policy objectives and Ghanaian political realities. The Vietnam War supposedly exposed the hubris behind modernization ideology. Massive aid budgets collapsed and the “New Mandarins” retreated, chastened, to academia.25 But one of the most compelling ideas behind the ideology in the first place never went away— that life among ordinary Americans left permanent, lasting impressions on visitors from the global South, and these individuals could, over time, refine entire societies.26 That vision of the 22 Cullather, The Hungry World, 109, 112; Field, “Ideology as Strategy”; Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 11, 50. 23 Ernest W. Lefever, “The Military Assistance Training Program,” Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 424 (March 1, 1976): 85–95. 24 Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, 101. 25 Mazower, Governing the World, 295; Noam Chomsky, American Power and the New Mandarins (New York: Pantheon Books, 1969); Chomsky refers to Pool, Ithiel De Sola Pool, “The Necessity for Social Scientists Doing Research for Governments,” Background 10, no. 2 (August 1, 1966): 111; Gilman refers to both Pool and Chomsky Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 8. 26 See also Hoffmann, All You Need Is Love; Latham, Modernization as Ideology. 43 “imagined world” of global, human interdependence the modernization theorists had temporarily assimilated as they tended the supposedly “real world” of competing sovereign states, power, and nations, had survived. It was not clear whether that ideal would be enough to preserve international military training programs in the era of reduced faith in foreign aid, reduced confidence in the good intentions of the U.S. government, and reduced budgets after the Vietnam War. And as later chapters explore, individuals around American schools had always considered their relationships with visiting military families the program’s most significant outcome anyway, so they seemed not to notice the rise and fall of the sociology of modernization theory. Mutual Security Program Reform as Ideological Reform With large budgets and little data demonstrating their effectiveness, American military assistance programs were likely targets for modernization theorists’ intellectual makeover in the 1960s. Military assistance had been the focus of postwar American aid in Europe, Iran, Korea, China, and the Philippines since World War II, and by the 1950s, promised to expand everywhere else the Truman Doctrine touched.27 In the 1950s, states in Asia, Africa, and Latin America which were emerging from colonialism or colonial-type exploitation were central to U.S. foreign policy. Presidents Truman and Eisenhower deemed controlling access to its resources, markets, and labor crucial to containing the Soviet Union and defending U.S. hegemony everywhere.28 Therefore, they justified most foreign aid mostly in terms of political and economic security, even when the targeted recipients had no obvious military connection.29 27 Chester J. Pach, Arming the Free World: The Origins of the United States Military Assistance Program, 1945- 1950 (Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1991), 198; Shils, “The Military in the Political Development of the New States,” 86. 28 David S. Painter, “Explaining U.S. Relations with the Third World,” Diplomatic History 19, no. 3 (Summer 1995): 525; Westad, The Global Cold War, 21. 29 This is Leffler’s argument in Melvyn P. Leffler, A Preponderance of Power: National Security, the Truman Administration and the Cold War (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1992); For Leffler’s more recent, optimistic contention that leaders in both Moscow and Washington believed they “possessed the formula for the good life,” See Leffler, For the Soul of Mankind, 8; Richard F Grimmett, An Overview of United States Military 44 Nearly all foreign aid deemed even remotely “security-related” fell under the massive Mutual Security Program, which had grown to $3.2 billion by 1960.30 Mutual Security Program projects designed to increase international cooperation and foster peace dwarfed any comparable civilian program. In 1960, for example, the Mutual Security Program provided funding for 16,500 foreign personnel military to receive training or education in the United States—exceeding the number of students trained there under the Fulbright, Smith-Mundt, and Agency for International Development programs combined.31 In the first months of his presidency, when Kennedy promised to transform America’s bloated foreign assistance bureaucracy and replace it with a responsive, pragmatic, and administratively centralized infrastructure headed by “first-class development planners,” the Mutual Security Program was a prime target.32 As he eliminated the jumble of disparate assistance programs it unevenly contained and consolidated control over all foreign assistance— civilian and military—within the State Department’s new Agency for International Development, his staff reevaluated the ideological potential of American military assistance and altered those aspects they considered most likely to have long-term effects at the lowest cost. Programs that sponsored foreign military personnel for training and education in the United States survived because they could provide both.33 Assistance Programs, CRS Report for Congress (Washington: Congressional Research Service, March 29, 1988), CRS – 1; House Committee on Government Operations, Use of Defense Support Funds for Economic and Political Purposes, Twenty-First Report by the Committee on Government Operations, 85th Congress, 2d Session (House of Representatives, February 22, 1958), 11; Allen J. Ellender, A Report on United States Foreign Operations by Honorable Allen J. Ellender, United States Senator from the State of Louisiana. March 15, 1961. (Senate: 87th Congress, 1st Sess., March 15, 1961); John F. Kennedy, Report to the Congress on the Foreign Assistance Program for the Fiscal Year 1962., Serial Set Vol. No. 12611, Session Vol. No. 47 (Washington, DC: 88th Cong., 1st Sess., August 28, 1963). 30 Dwight D. Eisenhower, Report to Congress on the Mutual Security Program For the First Half of Fiscal Year 1960, May 2, 1960, 1960. 31 Windle and Vallance, “Optimizing Military Assistance Training,” 91. 32 Kennedy, “Urgent National Needs; Address of the President of the United States”; Kennedy, “Special Message to the Congress on Foreign Aid - March 22, 1961”; Rostow, “94. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol IX,” 207. 33 Kennedy, “Urgent National Needs; Address of the President of the United States.” 45 Kennedy was not the first president to think seriously about foreign aid, however, and while his reforms were significant, they occurred at the nexus of contending political forces over a decade old. During his second term, Truman attempted to replicate the successes of the Marshall Plan, proposing a massive foreign aid program to combat communism by promoting economic recovery through “Technical Assistance” to poor nations around the world, but a parsimonious Congress immediately limited the program’s funding.34 Eisenhower likewise struggled to convince Congress and the American people of the need for more foreign aid funds and greater flexibility to administer them. Different Congressional factions hindered Eisenhower’s initiatives to expand the foreign aid program while pressing the administration to spend its money on programs variously more, or less, justified by national security alone—even as the very definition of “national security” shifted and expanded continuously.35 On the other hand, nearly all agreed that the American people themselves were the best ambassadors of the American way of life to the rest of the world.36 Notable cultural diplomacy programs expanded in the 1950s, including the Fulbright-Hays scholarships, the President’s Special International Program—jazz musicians on tour, and “People-to-People International,” which Eisenhower founded in 1956 to help “people to get together and leap governments—if necessary to evade 34 Technical Assistance was the fourth point Four on the list of development initiatives Truman spelled out in his second inaugural address, earning the generic title Point Four. Harry S. Truman, “Inaugural Address - Thursday, January 20, 1949,” Inaugural Addresses of the Presidents of the United States 1989 (1989): 289; Leffler, A Preponderance of Power, 266. 35 Vernon W. Ruttan, United States Development Assistance Policy: The Domestic Politics of Foreign Economic Aid, The Johns Hopkins Studies in Development (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1996); See Leffler, A Preponderance of Power, 10–15. 36 See Sen. Wiley’s comments, p. 51 of International Development and Security. Hearings before the Committee on Foreign Relations, United States Senate. 87th Congress, First Sess. on S. 1983. A Bill to Promote the Foreign Policy, Security, and General Welfare of the United States by Assisting Peoples of the World in Their Efforts Towards Economic and Social Development and Internal and External Security, and for Other Purposes., 2 vols. (Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1961); Osgood, Total Cold War. Osgood contends that Eisenhower contrived all cultural diplomacy, but others give more credence to its success; See, for example, Reinhold Wagnleitner, “The Empire of the Fun, or Talkin’ Soviet Union Blues: The Sound of Freedom and U.S. Cultural Hegemony in Europe,” Diplomatic History 23, no. 3 (1999): 499–524; Penny M Von Eschen, Satchmo Blows up the World: Jazz Ambassadors Play the Cold War (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2004); Rosenberg, Spreading the American Dream, chap. 10; Rob Kroes, “American Empire and Cultural Imperialism: A View from the Receiving End,” Diplomatic History 23, no. 3 (1999): 463–77. 46 governments—to work out not one method but thousands of methods by which people can gradually learn a little bit more of each other.”37 And since any dollars that brought foreigners to the United States would be spent in the United States, each party in the negotiation over the size and role of American foreign assistance policy considered those dollars well spent. President Eisenhower faced withering Congressional attacks as he attempted to reform the Mutual Security Program during his second term.38 Not all angles played equally effectively in public opinion, but with $3.2 billion appropriated for a Mutual Security Program that encompassed military assistance, development loans, technical assistance (“Point Four”) and the nebulous category “defense support,” the charge that America’s foreign aid programs were too expensive consistently resonated with the American people.39 Criticism generally came from two opposite camps: those who objected to foreign aid in principle and those who thought America’s foreign assistance program needed to focus less on security and more on development. Eisenhower believed that the American people fully accepted the responsibility for military assistance in order to contain communism, but he thought they did not comprehend how broad the definition of military assistance could be.40 He was unable to defend the nation’s interests and contain communism abroad, he complained, while Congressional expectations for budgeting and oversight rose and American public opinion strongly opposed foreign “economic aid.”41 He dreaded a retreat from America’s proactive 37 Von Eschen, Satchmo Blows up the World, 6; Dwight D Eisenhower, “Remarks at the People-to-People Conference - September 11, 1956,” Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States 1956 (1956): 750; See also Iriye, Global Community the Role of International Organizations in the Making of the Contemporary World, chap. 3. 38 H. W. Brands, “The Age of Vulnerability: Eisenhower and the National Insecurity State,” The American Historical Review 94, no. 4 (1989): 963–89 argues that this was as much a symptom of Eisenhower’s leadership style as the consequence of the growth of bureaucracy. . 39 Eisenhower, Report to Congress on the Mutual Security Program For the First Half of Fiscal Year 1960, 2. 40 Harlow, “214. Memorandum for the Record by the President’s Assistant (Harlow); January 30, 1958,” in Foreign Economic Policy, vol. IV, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1958-1960 (Washington D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1992), 412. 41 Ibid., 412, 409; “239. Memorandum of Conference with President Eisenhower; April 23, 1959,” in Foreign Economic Policy, vol. IV, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1958-1960 (Washington D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. 47 financial role abroad, telling Congress “the only alternative we can see to the inter-dependent allied Free World, strengthened by our aid where needed, would be the Fortress America concept—taking our first stand in the last ditch.”42 American public opinion had never fully embraced foreign assistance, as many in Congress routinely remembered. A trail of committee hearings and reports criticized the Mutual Security Program for a host of reasons: it wasted money on poorly conceived or elaborate programs; it funded plans that produced no tangible results; American loans would likely never be repaid; it spent dollars that provided little help to America’s troubled economy; it played into Soviet rhetoric of American militarist expansion. Senator Allen J. Ellender (R-LA) colorfully observed, “A decade of many ill-conceived and loosely managed expenditures of America's wealth” had turned “what began as a nourishing broth of ‘international cooperation for peace’ [into] a witches’ brew—a serious threat to our own economic stability and growth.”43 William Dawson’s (D-IL) House Committee on Government Operations, attacked the entire aid agenda. “It is, quite literally, all things to all men,” he thundered in 1958, claiming he had “never seen any evidence that the level of aid for any country [had] been systematically determined by economic experts.”44 Representatives from all sides contended that the Executive branch had too much authority to act without Congressional consent.45 Off, 1992), 454; “238. Notes of the Legislative Leadership Meeting; April 22, 1959,” in Foreign Economic Policy, vol. IV, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1958-1960 (Washington D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1992), 451–52. 42 Eisenhower, Report to Congress on the Mutual Security Program For the First Half of Fiscal Year 1960, 6. 43 Ellender, A Report on United States Foreign Operations, 1. 44 House Committee on Government Operations, Use of Defense Support Funds for Economic and Political Purposes, 12. Emphasis in original. 45 See, for example, Ellender, A Report on United States Foreign Operations; Fulbright, J. W., The Mutual Security Act of 1959. Report of the Committee on Foreign Relations on S. 1451, Together with Minority Views, Senate, 86th Cong; 1st Sess (Senate, June 22, 1959); Fulbright, J. W., Foreign Assistance Act of 1961; Report of the Committee on Foreign Relations, United States Senate, on S. 1983 (Senate: 87th Congress, 1st Sess., July 24, 1961); House Committee on Foreign Affairs, Report of the Committee on Foreign Affairs on H.R. 11510 to Amend Further the Mutual Security Act of 1954 (House: 86th Cong., 2d Sess.; Committee on Foreign Affairs, April 7, 1960); House Committee on Foreign Affairs., Report of the Special Study Mission to Asia, Western Pacific, Middle East, Southern Europe, and North Africa (86th Cong., 2d Sess.; Committee on Foreign Affairs, March 14, 1960); House Committee on Government Operations, Use of Defense Support Funds for Economic and Political Purposes; John F Kennedy, “Letter to the President of the Senate and to the Speaker of the House Transmitting Bill Implementing the Message 48 Others in Congress did not shrink from the idea of massive aid, but objected to the program’s execution, which seemed to lack a central strategy. A powerful new group of Senators—including John F. Kennedy—pushed for even more proactive foreign assistance; deemphasizing military assistance and focusing more aid specifically for economic development.46 “Foreign aid is both an unavoidable responsibility and a central instrument of our foreign policy,” J. William Fulbright’s (D-AR) Senate Committee on Foreign Relations acknowledged in 1961. “It is dictated by the hard logic of the cold war and by a moral responsibility resulting from poverty, hunger, disease, ignorance, feudalism, strife, revolution, chronic instability, and life without hope.”47 Foreign aid was “indispensable,” the Senate concluded, but “it can also be said that it has fallen short of the millions of words that have been uttered in its behalf.”48 Eisenhower’s attempts to reform military assistance made little headway, and only confirmed this group of progressives’ misgivings. In September 1958, Secretary of State Dulles warned Eisenhower, “Unless we are able to justify a military assistance program in forthright and explainable terms . . . we will be faced with increasing pressures for indiscriminate cuts in military assistance funds in the interest of devoting the resulting savings to economic development programs.”49 Before asking Congress for another dollar for the Mutual Security on Foreign Aid - May 26, 1961,” Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States 1961 (1961): 407; Mansfield, “Comments to Senate,” in Congressional Record - Senate, vol. 107 (Senate, 1961), 16400–404; See Sen. Morse’s comments in Hearings Before the Senate Committee On Foreign Relations on the Foreign Assistance Act of 1961, 65; Ruttan, United States Development Assistance Policy; Cronin, The World the Cold War Made. 46 U.S. President’s Committee to Study the U.S. Military Assistance Program (1958-1959), “Conclusions Concerning the Mutual Security Program. Communication from the President of the United States Transmitting the Final Report of the President’s Committee to Study the United States Military Assistance Program, with the Several Studies Which Are Annexes Thereto. August 20, 1959.,” in Serial Set Vol. No. 12229, Session Vol. No. 47 H. Doc. 215 Pt. 1, vol. 1 (Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1959), 22. 47 Fulbright, J. W., Foreign Assistance Act of 1961; Report of the Committee on Foreign Relations, United States Senate, on S. 1983, 4. 48 Ibid. 49 John F. Dulles, “226. Memorandum from Secretary of State Dulles to President Eisenhower; September 13, 1958,” in Foreign Economic Policy, vol. IV, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1958-1960 (Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1992), 429–30. 49 Program, Dulles recommended that “the basic purposes of our military aid, and the standards to be used in fixing its level, be appraised by a public committee of respected and qualified private citizens.”50 In November 1958, Eisenhower tapped his friend William H. Draper, Jr., a former Army General, former Under Secretary of the Army, and “the first professional west-coast venture capitalist” to head a special committee to study the military assistance program.51 Following his dream of shifting the country’s financial core west, Draper formed the venture capital firm Draper, Gaither and Anderson in 1958, joining retired Air Force Major General and former Ambassador to NATO Frederick L. Anderson, Jr. and Horace Rowan Gaither, Jr., chairman on the boards of the Ford Foundation and RAND and author of the influential and grim 1957 Gaither Report on nuclear survival.52 In his Army days, Draper had helped administer the Marshall Plan in Europe, and his conclusions reflected this experience. The Draper Committee was another of the ad hoc committees of former generals, industrialists, and businessmen, that had become a kind of shadow branch of American government after 1945 and which drew the disdain of intellectuals like Rostow.53 Eisenhower, he later accused, was “shaped by military and budgetary tactics rather than a theory of history.”54 He was “unimaginative,” conservative, willing to “innovate as little as his responsibilities required,” and motivated only to “reduce the burden in cost and manpower of holding the line around the periphery of the communist bloc.”55 To Rostow, advisors like Draper, with military and business backgrounds made them “mediocre . . . long on technical assistance types and desperately short of men at home and in the field who understand the economic development 50 Ibid. 51 “Draper Investment Company,” accessed October 30, 2013, http://www.draperco.com/english/our-history/. 52 David L Snead, The Gaither Committee, Eisenhower, and the Cold War (Columbus, OH: Ohio State University Press, 1999). 53 See Morton H. Halperin, “The Gaither Committee and the Policy Process,” World Politics 13, no. 3 (April 1, 1961): 360–84. 54 Rostow, The Diffusion of Power: An Essay in Recent History, 86,111. 55 Ibid., 111, 87. 50 problem.”56 Under Kennedy, prominent economists, sociologists, and historians from MIT’s Council on International Studies re-formed the powerful cliques that wielded similar influence over foreign assistance policy. Embedded in their final report, published in August 1959, the Draper Committee revealed a special enthusiasm for training foreign military personnel in the United States. They also recommended the expected things: consolidate aid programs, strengthen the State Department’s authority over non-military assistance, extend aid appropriations for two or more years instead of just one, and require the Department of Defense to fund those military assistance programs it desired out of its own budget.57 But programs that sponsored training for foreign military personnel in the United States received Draper’s most significant recommendation. In 1960, $99 million of the $3.2 billion mutual security budget went toward training foreign military personnel, he claimed, yet “there is no single aspect of the Military Assistance Program which produces more useful returns for the dollars expended than these training programs.”58 Despite Draper’s strong criticism that recommended abandoning other aspects of the mutual security program, these training programs gathered increasing praise. Even Draper admitted, however, that in the hands of military trainers, these programs failed to fulfil their potential.59 Military training needed to broaden its scope to coincide with the overall objectives of American foreign policy and focus on building leadership and professional expertise, and not simply transmit technical skills.60 “In some of the less developed countries,” Draper claimed, “a large proportion of the managerial and executive skills that exist are in their 56 Rostow, “94. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol IX,” 204. 57 U.S. President’s Committee to Study the U.S. Military Assistance Program (1958-1959), “Draper Committee Final Report,” 1, 11, 24–25, 36–37. 58 Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, 103. 59 U.S. President’s Committee to Study the U.S. Military Assistance Program (1958-1959), “Draper Committee Final Report,” 39. 60 Ibid., 45. 51 armed forces.”61 More than a military training program, therefore, the Military Assistance Program needed to embrace its potential for sociological transformation.62 Through it, “recipient countries undergo significant changes—organizational, sociological, economic, and sometimes political.”63 The committee noted that the program brought more than 10,000 foreign nationals to the United States each year, but recommended that it expand to include more. “This training,” Draper argued, “can do far more than teach recipients to use military equipment and research. It brings foreign nationals into close contact with United States citizens under conditions which tend to promote an appreciation of the values of our civilian way of life.”64 Policymakers in the Kennedy administration later seized this sentiment and codified it into policy. Draper still did not stray far from inherited, strategic justifications for sponsoring foreign officers in the United States. “Many officers, returning to their native countries, often form the nuclei of Western-oriented leadership,” the final report argued, as if being Western-oriented sufficed as the goal in the Cold War.65 Draper’s outlook was primarily security-oriented, but he recognized the potential for military training exchanges to develop individuals’ understanding and respect for American institutions and acknowledged those individuals’ potential to transform their native military, social, and political institutions along more modern lines. This potential, it turns out, was precisely the point upon which the “old look” of the Eisenhower administration would pivot to the new approach favored by Kennedy and his cabinet of academics-turned- policymakers.66 61 Ibid., 43. 62 Ibid., 51. 63 Ibid. 64 Ibid., 43. 65 Ibid., c51. 66 “Old look” is Rostow’s description in his memo to Kennedy, Rostow, “94. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol IX,” 204. 52 The Modernization of Military Modernization In August 1959, in the same month that the Draper Report spelled out the Eisenhower administration’s final attempt to reform the massive Mutual Security Program, the RAND Corporation sponsored a conference in Santa Monica, California on the role of the military in “underdeveloped” countries. Some of the most influential academic proponents of modernization attended, including: Lucian Pye, who was raised by Protestant missionary parents in China and whose history of the Malayan insurgency in 1956 prescribed the psychological process of modernization as the solution for the economic and social appeal of communism; Edward Shils, a prolific scholar of Cold War foreign policy, propaganda, and new nations; and Daniel Lerner, whose 1958 study of Turkey, Egypt, Jordan, Syria, Iran and Lebanon in The Passing of Traditional Society first explicitly theorized the process of social transformation as “modernization.”67 All three worked for the Massachusetts Institute of Technology’s Center for International Studies (CIS) at the time, the CIA-sponsored research center that was also home to the influential economist Max Millikan and to Walt W. Rostow, who eventually rose to chair the State Department’s Policy Planning Staff under Kennedy and served as National Security Advisor under Johnson.68 The conference proceedings, published in 1962 as The Role of the Military in Underdeveloped Countries, became the most influential attempt to come to grips with the apparent paradox that transitional societies “apparently find it easier to create modern armies than most other modern structures.”69 At that moment, social scientists informed by modernization theory seized the initiative in theorizing, rationalizing, and executing American military assistance. As they did, programs which brought military officers from new states to the 67 Lerner, The Passing of Traditional Society; Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 167, 139, 175. 68 Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 158, 198. 69 Johnson, The Role of the Military in Underdeveloped Countries, 3. 53 United States for education and training acquired special significance because these programs encompassed so many of modernization theory’s tenets of faith—at a low cost. The historiography of modernization and development ideology clearly establishes the preeminence of social science in driving American foreign policy toward developing states. Social science was slow to incorporate military assistance, however, which had thrived under a different set of assumptions during the second half of the century.70 In the late 1950s, modernization theorists successfully absorbed the rationale and administrative control over military assistance for three reasons: first, as we have seen, Congressional and American public opinion supported military assistance to the global South but largely disapproved of providing strictly “economic” aid, so modernization theorists carefully couched their programs in terms that permitted access to large “security” budgets; second, even though social scientists largely refused to examine the significance of the military in newly decolonized prior to 1960, many other Western scholars already acknowledged that the military often played a “modernizing” role in defeated states; and finally, a series of significant scholarly works in the late 1950s and early 1960s filled the gap between the under-theorized phenomena of military modernization and the spread of military rule in the global South. Influential academics-turned-policymakers supplied that prior understanding of the military’s modernizing function with intellectual respectability and a share in the political bonanza for modernization theorists in the Kennedy administration. The way international military training programs unified the psychological aspects of modernization—a person could become a modern person, and the good soldier was a modernized man—with the prior and 70 Michel L. Martin, “Of Arms and the Man: A Short Intellectual History of Morris Janowitz’s Contribution to the Sociology of the Military,” in The Military, Militarism, and the Polity: Essays in Honor of Morris Janowitz, ed. Michel L. Martin and Ellen Stern McCrate (New York: Free Press ; Collier Macmillan, 1984), 1–31. 54 resilient public faith in the goodness of American communities later insulated these military assistance programs when modernization theory declined. The myth that military conquest begot modernity in Asia, Africa, Latin America, and the Middle East had a long history. Since the mid-1800s, both Western and Egyptian nationalist historians agreed that Mehmed Ali’s conscripted army, formed in response to Napoleon’s humiliation of Egypt, laid the foundation for Egypt’s national “take-off” in the early nineteenth century and earned Ali the title, “Founder of Modern Egypt.”71 Even then-Colonel Anwar Sadat apparently considered the criterion of a good Egyptian officer in 1960 “the degree of his familiarity with the West.”72 In 1929, Arnold Toynbee mused before the Royal Institute of International Affairs that the people of Turkey, Egypt, and Persia owed their “present enlightened rulers to the Great War.”73 Military defeat in World War I had awakened a spirit of self-questioning, dislodged “traditional Islam . . . in its bigoted form,” and “given way to a spirit of inquiry and self-questioning” in the Middle East.74 In Turkey between the wars, but especially after World War II, secular, intellectual politicians had harnessed the reform-minded military to 71 Henry Dodwell, The Founder of Modern Egypt (Cambridge: The University Press, 1931) Although Dodwell uses the Muslim/Egyptian name "Muhammad “Ali," I use the Turkish (and contemporary) Mehmed, partly in solidarity with Fahmy’s suspicion of nationalism through militarism.” Fahmy cites Abdel-Rahman al Rafi, “Mehmed Ali’s Reign” (1951); Sabry’s “L’Empire egyptien sous Mohamed-Ali en la question d’Orient” (1930), and Abdel-Rahman Zaki, “Military History of the Reign of Mehmed Ali the Great” (1950) as examples. “Take-off” is Fahmy’s phrase, echoing Rostow’s “Stages of Economic Growth.” Khaled Fahmy, All the Pasha’s Men: Mehmed Ali, His Army, and the Making of Modern Egypt (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1997), 14, note 37. 72 Although this anecdote appeared in Morroe Berger’s Center for International Studies-sponsored 1960 monograph, “Military Elite and Social Change.” Berger, Military Elite and Social Change, 19; For his part, Gamal Nasser in 1955 considered Ali merely a corrupt foreigner who presided as Egyptians abandoned their “Eastern” national values while absorbing no “Western” ones. Gamal Abdel Nasser, “The Egyptian Revolution,” Foreign Affairs 33, no. 2 (January 1, 1955): 199, 200. 73 Arnold Toynbee, “The Modernisation of the Middle East,” Journal of the Royal Institute of International Affairs 8, no. 4 (July 1, 1929): 351. 74 Ibid. 55 produce a West-facing, rapidly-modernizing, civilian-run state, and an essential Cold War ally.75 Similar events seemed to unfold in Iran after World War II.76 Military conquest also fueled America’s modernizing mission abroad. A New York Tribune reporter sailing with Matthew Perry in 1853 exulted at the “great American Navy—that glorious institution which scatters civilization with every broadside and illuminates the dark places of the earth with the light of its rockets and bombshells.”77 Modernity poured from American cannons. Japanese annexation of Korea in 1910 earned Western commentators’ praise as a laudable attempt to spread modernity.78 After the U.S. occupied the Philippines, Cuba, and later Haiti, the military led reconstruction projects, importing modern technology.79 The army and navy also worked closely with other aspects of the modernizing mission, including missionaries, philanthropic organizations, and, eventually, development theorists, who arrived after the dramatic displays of American power which reoccurred in Tokyo Bay, Manila, Haiti, and postwar Europe in the century before 1950. Americans offered military education in the United States as one path for elite subjects of its expanding empire to transform their societies in the early twentieth century. While the U.S. Army initiated many infrastructure projects in the Philippines as part of its counterinsurgency strategy, its overall program was one of “social engineering.”80 To American commanders in the Philippines after 1898, native Filipinos became fit for military leadership only after the U.S. Congress authorized admitting Filipino cadets to the U.S. Military Academy at West Point in 75 Lewis V. Thomas and Richard Nelson Frye, The United States and Turkey and Iran, American Foreign Policy Library (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1951); Halide Edib, Turkey Faces West: A Turkish View of Recent Changes and Their Origin (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1930), 238. 76 Thomas and Frye, The United States and Turkey and Iran. 77 Quoted in Adas, Dominance by Design, 26. 78 Ekbladh, The Great American Mission, 18. 79 Ibid., 18–25; Karnow, In Our Image. 80 Ekbladh, The Great American Mission, 20. 56 1908.81 Filipino West Point graduates could then command indigenous scout units, liberating the U.S. Army from its ongoing pacification mission in the Philippines. In 1935, American General Douglas MacArthur envisioned a Philippine Military Academy “built on the lines of West Point,” and convinced President Manuel Quezon that only Filipino graduates of the real West Point and Annapolis become the first Superintendent, Commandant, and training staff for the new Philippine Military Academy.82 Between 1904 and 1937, the United States sponsored ninety-three Chinese men to attend American military colleges—including West Point, The Virginia Military Institute, The Citadel, and Norwich—to help modernize nationalist China’s army and insulate it from communists.83 In 1919, acting Secretary of State Frank L. Polk pleaded with Congress to permit “intelligent and spirited young men” of the “sister Republics of the Americas” to send cadets to West Point and Annapolis, anticipating that they might “return to their native countries deeply impressed by our system of training and our institutions and well prepared to develop military training at home.”84 Congress finally acquiesced in 1938.85 Military education and training in the United States had deep roots in American modernization programs abroad, its importance expanded in proportion to Cold War military assistance programs. The truce that emerged in the late 1950s between prominent social scientists and modernization theorists who advocated military assistance as a strategy for development was so important because prior to then, most thoughtful observers did not equate military capacity with 81 Alfred W. McCoy, Closer Than Brothers: Manhood at the Philippine Military Academy (New Haven, Conn: Yale University Press, 1999), 18. 82 Ibid., 20. 83 John Wands Sacca, “Like Strangers in a Foreign Land: Chinese Officers Prepared at American Military Colleges, 1904-37,” The Journal of Military History 70, no. 3 (July 1, 2006): 206. Ironically, Sacca argues, this liberal American education set them apart from their peers and superiors and, in the long run, hindered, rather than helped, their careers. 84 Frank L. Polk, Invitation to Latin American Republics to Send Students to Military and Naval Academies (House: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1919), 2. 85 To Authorize the President to Permit Citizens of the American Republics to Receive Instruction at Professional Education Institutions and Schools Maintained and Administered by the Government of the United States, 52 Stat.; Ch. 644, 1938. 57 modernity or progress, and warned of the ascendance of military ideology over the state. From Princeton University, the influential historian and German émigré Alfred Vagts warned in 1937 (and again in 1959) against militarism—evident in the spectacles of Fascism—that was anti- democratic and recent, but not modern.86 Armies served modernity only when they made “efficient, rational, up-to-date, and to a certain extent, humane uses of the materials and forces available to them,” Vagts wrote.87 Militarism, on the other hand, was anti-rational, traditional, and displayed “the qualities of caste and cult, authority and belief.”88 Even after World War II, Vagts lamented the spread of “civilian militarism,” evident in “the churn of officers rising in Turkey, Iran, Thailand, Indonesia, Egypt, Iraq, [and] Lebanon and civilian governments appropriating military titles for their prominent civilians in the Soviet Union and other places.”89 Most social scientists prior to 1960 shared Vagts’ reluctance to embrace the union of militarism and modernization as a promising strategy for encouraging development in poorer states, motivated either out of a traditional liberal suspicion of armies, by a presumption that military phenomena were anachronistic, or by preoccupation with other trendy social issues like industrialization and urbanization.90 What was different about the modernization theorists’ understanding of military modernization was the evolving definition of “modernity.” Since the 17th century, Europeans had equated their technology—especially their military technology—with social and cultural superiority.91 By the nineteenth century, influenced by theories of evolution, the “civilizing mission,” and abstract notions of equality that accompanied industrialization and urbanization, 86 Alfred Vagts, A History of Militarism, Revised (London: Hollis and Carter, 1959), 14. 87 Ibid., 13. 88 Ibid. 89 Ibid., 490. 90 Martin, “Of Arms and the Man: A Short Intellectual History of Morris Janowitz’s Contribution to the Sociology of the Military,” 2. 91 Adas, Machines as the Measure of Men. 58 “modern” became synonymous with “improvement,” while simultaneously implying “backwardness” for the “primitive societies” abroad.92 The Americans in Tokyo Bay in 1853, Manila in 1899, or Panama in 1912 were no different.93 Still, “modernization” before the 1950s usually referred to technical improvements in physical or bureaucratic infrastructure, administrative streamlining, or the introduction of new machine equipment or chemical fertilizers, for example.94 To Edward Shils, modernity demanded “breaking the power of traditional interests of chiefs, sultans, and priests, universal public education, democracy, being scientific, [and] being economically advanced and progressive”—in other words, “‘Modern’ means being Western without depending on the West.”95 To the extent that people in the new states world aspired to be “modern” before the 1960s, they were also reacting to the spread of liberalism, nationalism, the concept of class, and world religions in an increasingly globalized political and cultural economy.96 By negotiating these influences for themselves, people in developing places could decide that they were modern, or that they lived in a modern world, whether they liked it or not.97 Before World War II, the term “modernization” was never used to describe a society as a whole.98 This is not to say that all social change caused by war was modern, or represented modernity. Instead, when specific scholars of modernization theory, such as Lucian Pye, Daniel Lerner, or Edward Shils accepted military technology and military sociology as contributors toward the economic, political, and mostly psychological evolution modernization theory encompassed, they modified prior understandings of modernity to fit a new paradigm, the 92 Reddy, “Modern,” 160; Braham, Key Concepts in Sociology, 7. 93 Adas, Dominance by Design; Ekbladh, The Great American Mission. 94 Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 32. 95 Shils, “The Military in the Political Development of the New States,” 10–11. 96 See Bayly, The Birth of the Modern World. 97 Ibid., 10; Cooper warns against the mass confusion bound to ensue by calling modernity everything and everything modernity. See Cooper, Colonialism in Question, chap. 5. 98 Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 32. 59 transformation of an entire society and articulated through modernization theory.99 In Lerner’s words, “Individuals and their institutions modernize together.”100 By the late 1950s, modernization as an ideology had coalesced around deeper, older cultural assumptions about American society which intellectuals, officials, and the American public already largely shared.101 As its theorists became more influential, they also incorporated prior assumptions about the role and promise of American military assistance programs. The August 1959 RAND conference in Santa Monica was the turning point in reinterpreting the modernizing potential for the military in “underdeveloped countries” because it separated the economic problem of military spending from the sociological potential for military forces to transform societies. Prior to that, economists condemned military spending for derailing, not helping, developing economies. Max Millikan and Walt W. Rostow’s 1957 A Proposal: Key to an Effective Foreign Policy, the most influential work on development economics thus far and which claimed to have harnessed the near-unanimous, collective expertise of the CIS, baldly declared that military spending prevented poorer states from growing economically and only made their leaders more likely to pursue totalitarian measures.102 In economic policy, military spending was suspect. As part of modernization theory, on the other hand, which proposed a series of steps toward economic “take-off” which required first the social transformation from a “traditional” to “modern” personalities, programs which isolated future military leaders from their “traditional” societies could be a perfect fit.103 At this 1959 99 Cullather, “Modernization Theory”; See, for example, Latham, Modernization as Ideology; Gilman, Mandarins of the Future; Tyrrell, Reforming the World; Nick Cullather, “The Foreign Policy of the Calorie,” The American Historical Review 112, no. 2 (April 1, 2007): 337–64. 100 Lerner, The Passing of Traditional Society, 78. 101 Latham, Modernization as Ideology, 8. 102 Millikan and Rostow, A Proposal: Key to an Effective Foreign Policy, ix, 12. 103 W. W. Rostow, The Stages of Economic Growth: A Non-Communist Manifesto (Cambridge, UK: University Press, 1960). 60 conference, social scientists blessed that essential intellectual leap over the economics of development to the uses of foreign military assistance to create modernized people. The military in postcolonial societies could be an avenue for advancement and a proto- democratic institution, these scholars argued, but the potential for abuse of this advancement made it essential to understand its influence. Distinguishing “civilian” and “military” outcomes from foreign assistance was difficult enough. American scholars did not agree on the stakes. At the RAND conference, University of Chicago sociologist James S. Coleman and Belmont Brice, Jr. argued that in African states, civilian policymakers and the army shared the same basic goals of stability, order, national unity, and rapid modernization. “These are the goals of the educated African nationalist,” they wrote, and if the civilian regimes could not deliver them, “there is a high probability that the military will intervene.”104 These scholars acknowledged “a unity in the common economic and social problems” and the “paramount task of finding a format for civil- military relations appropriate to their social structure.”105 “Military aid has had to become economic aid,” Shils wrote, since it already contributed to “roadbuilding, health facilities, communications networks and the like, all of which have directly facilitated economic growth.”106 Shils, Pye, and Coleman all assumed that military assistance had the potential to introduce economic and institutional reforms that yielded modernization, but only when that assistance behaved like economic aid, and not as an incentive for national militaries to intervene into politics. In 1959, as African states seized their independence in great numbers, widespread military intervention was still a concern, but not yet a reality. It became reality across Africa and 104 James S. Coleman and Belmont Brice, Jr., “The Role of the Military in Sub-Saharan Africa,” in The Role of the Military in Underdeveloped Countries, ed. John J. Johnson (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1962), 402. 105 Morris Janowitz, The Military in the Political Development of New Nations: An Essay in Comparative Analysis (Chicago: University Of Chicago Press, 1964), 5. 106 Shils, “The Military in the Political Development of the New States,” 89, 86. 61 Asia early in the 1960s, but in 1959, the example of Turkey, which exemplified the modernizing military which spurred advancement, then retreated from politics, held great promise.107 Participants at the 1959 conference lamented how few scholars had seriously examined the military’s potential political influence on African and Asian “new states.”108 Lucian Pye’s presentation, reprinted in The Role of the Military in Underdeveloped Countries, lowered the barriers to the scholarly acceptance of military assistance in the service of modernization.109 Although he later taught courses in counterinsurgency for the State Department, Pye was not simply an apologist for military rule.110 He regarded military dictatorships as interim solutions, at best.111 He pragmatically pointed out, however, “The military has become the key decision- making element in at least eight of the Afro Asian countries.”112 He continued, “We are confronted with the awkward fact that there has been almost no scholarly research on the role of the military and the political development of the new states.”113 Daniel Lerner considered “the absence of definitive case studies” an opportunity to “make general observations,” that offered considerable tolerance for early military participation in the process of modernization, but which, it later showed, rarely applied outside of Turkey.114 The scarcity of data seemed to result from a willful refusal to integrate military sociology into political science, not just an imbalance in the study of social change in the global South.115 107 Lerner and Robinson, “Swords and Ploughshares”; See also, Dankwart A. Rustow, “The Army and the Founding of the Turkish Republic,” World Politics 11, no. 4 (July 1, 1959): 513. 108 Pye, “Armies in the Process of Political Modernization,” 69 An MIT professor of Political Science, Pye later taught courses in counterinsurgency for the State Department and advised USAID. 109 Pye, “Armies in the Process of Political Modernization”; So also did: Lerner and Robinson, “Swords and Ploughshares”. This article was reprinted (and discounted widely) in Henry Bienen (ed.) “The Military and Modernization,” 1971. Shils, “The Military in the Political Development of the New States”; Janowitz, The Military in the Political Development of New Nations: An Essay in Comparative Analysis. 110 Latham, Modernization as Ideology, 7. 111 Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 190. 112 Pye, “Armies in the Process of Political Modernization,” 69 This 1962 volume printed the proceedings of the 1959 conference. 113 Ibid. 114 Lerner and Robinson, “Swords and Ploughshares,” 34. 115 Janowitz, The Military in the Political Development of New Nations: An Essay in Comparative Analysis, vi. 62 Within ten years, most observers would decry these early attempts to justify or coopt the momentum of military assistance for advancing modernization theory as unfortunate or sinister evidence of the “theory-research gap” between expectations and political, social, and economic reality in the new states.116 In 1959, however, political conditions in the United States made social scientists reconsider whether military elites in new states might be a fertile field for their modernization efforts. Some scholars considered the military the ideal example of modernity in developing states because the ideal soldier supposedly manifested a complete transformation into a “modern” personality, which valued technology, industry, mobility, and nationalism. Training in “modern subjects” such as engineering, ballistics, and communications was “specialized, technical, and nonhumanisitic,” Edward Shils wrote.117 Therefore, the “military officer class” represented a “disproportionately larger sector of the modern intelligentsia” and became “major representatives of modernity in technology and administration” in new states.118 In the “underdeveloped society,” Lucian Pye proposed, “the good soldier is also to some degree a modernized man.”119 Further, “the armies created by colonial administration and by the newly emergent countries have been consistently among the most modernized institutions in their societies.”120 The military establishment “comes as close as any human organization can to the ideal type for an industrialized secularized enterprise.”121 Describing the 1952 Joint American Military Mission for Aid to Turkey, Lerner and Robinson argued that the Turkish army did more than acquire military and technical skills in “the maintenance and operation of modern 116 Robert M. Price, “A Theoretical Approach to Military Rule in New States: Reference-Group Theory and the Ghanaian Case,” World Politics 23, no. 3 (April 1, 1971): 399. 117 Shils, “The Military in the Political Development of the New States,” 23. 118 Ibid. 119 Pye, “Armies in the Process of Political Modernization,” 80. 120 Ibid., 74. 121 Ibid., 75. 63 machinery.”122 The “thousands of young Turkish farm lads” who went through the program, they argued “acquired a new personality . . . Along with the physical and social mobility opened to them through the military training program, they acquired also the habits of psychic mobility.”123 From then on, “the young discharged soldier is likely to find his traditional society inadequate to sustain his new level of expectation . . . Hence, it is likely that the soldier returning to his native village will resist falling back into the premechanical era.”124 The Turkish Army became “a major agency of social change precisely because it spread among this key sector of the population a sense of identity.”125 Modernity was partly economic, partly institutional, but largely mental, and modernization theorists meant to surpass the prior tradition of accepting the military as an avenue for modernizing institutions and advocate military assistance programs to modernize people.126 The Turkish case demonstrates how American scholars in the late 1950s absorbed the prior appreciation for the national military’s modernizing effects and transformed them into case studies for modernization theory. Where prior scholars had recognized the political union between the old Ottoman army and the caliph, as if “the Ottoman government had been an army before it was anything else,” Lerner argued that Ataturk demonstrated how to modernize the Turkish military while breaking the cycle of military intervention in Turkish politics.127 Instead, “the maintenance of civilian supremacy in republican Turkey has been a historical fact of the first order.”128 Ataturk broke the cycle of military intervention, inherited from classical Ottoman and Persian lore, but which had remained “a regular feature of the postwar scene.”129 Turkey 122 Lerner and Robinson, “Swords and Ploughshares,” 32. 123 Ibid. Italics in original. 124 Ibid., 34. 125 Ibid., 32. 126 Cullather, “Modernization Theory,” 217; Lerner, The Passing of Traditional Society. 127 Lerner and Robinson, “Swords and Ploughshares,” 13, 21. 128 Ibid., 21. 129 Ibid. 64 offered a model, then, in which the military, “historically the chosen instrument for imposing stability, can be transformed into an agency that promotes mobility within a framework of civilian ingenuity and innovation.”130 Even after the military overthrew the civilian government in 1960, Lerner and Robinson still praised the Turkish army. World Politics published their 1959 presentation as “Swords and Ploughshares: The Turkish Army as a Modernizing Force” in October 1960, with a new ending that excused the May 1960 coup as over-eager haste from “frustrated” military leaders from one of “the new nations-in-a-hurry.”131 When Turkey’s civilian government refused to lead those “major programs that shaped national development—basic education, technical training, [and] industrial production,” Lerner and Robinson argued, the military could be counted on to intervene.132 Turkey also seemed to demonstrate that military intervention in politics was not inevitable—or at least, it did not have to be disastrous.133 As an American ally and NATO partner, then, reinterpreting recent Turkish history as a modernization success story had enormous strategic significance for modernization theorists-turned-policymakers who believed they could achieve similar results in other contested areas. For a few years after 1959, Americans sought other examples where military rulers also triumphed as modernizers. In 1961, UCLA’s Amin Banani argued that Reza Shah’s Iran was a triumph of secular nationalism. The unified, standing army permitted the Shah to undermine traditional clerical power, reform judicial and educational systems, and set Iran on the path to economic liberalism.134 In Egypt, where historians attributed the rise of nationalism in the nineteenth century to the humiliating experience of military defeat, a new CIS-sponsored study 130 Ibid., 44. 131 Ibid. 132 Ibid., 41. 133 Rustow, “The Army and the Founding of the Turkish Republic,” 513. 134 Amin Banani, The Modernization of Iran (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1961). 65 by Princeton University sociologist Morroe Berger reevaluated the importance of Western tutelage on the Egyptian military. Using the typical lexicon of modernization theory, Berger argued that for Mehmed to create a modern, self-sufficient, and efficient army, he needed “new educational methods, a new kind of industrial discipline, a different sort of administrative arm with new and unfamiliar loyalties—in short, virtually a new society.”135 Mehmed failed, Berger wrote, because he either failed or refused to “to invoke the symbols of nationalism or these symbols were beyond his own imagination.”136 The Egyptian military’s great modernizing power receded after Mehmed died in 1849, revived after the British occupation in 1881, but peaked after World War II: “Nationalism, and political and social reform—in a word, modernization: this was the main preoccupation of many of the younger officers reared in the period of British imperial decline.”137 In Taiwan, a partnership between liberal developmentalists in the State Department and the Economic Cooperation Administration appeared to have harmonized U.S. government agencies, Taiwanese government intervention, and private investment to produce “military Keynesianism” in the shadow of communist China.138 In all three places, harnessing and projecting nationalism remained the modern military’s major function, and nationalism was one precondition for modernization.139 Nationalism formed the quintessential aspect of the modern military identity. For modernization theorists, training in citizenship was the most significant feature of the modern army’s process of acculturation.140 The army, just like civilian elites and policymakers, shared the same goals of stability, order, national unity, and rapid modernization: “These are the goals 135 Berger, Military Elite and Social Change, 6. 136 Ibid. 137 Ibid., 3 Emphasis is mine. 138 Nick Cullather, “`Fuel for the Good Dragon’: The United States and Industrial Policy in Taiwan, 1950-1965,” Diplomatic History 20, no. 1 (1996): 11. 139 Cullather, “Modernization Theory,” 213. 140 Pye, “Armies in the Process of Political Modernization,” 82. 66 of the educated African nationalist,” Coleman and Brice wrote.141 From Turkey to Asia to Africa, young men from isolated villages “now suddenly felt themselves to be part of the larger society.”142 The military’s “strong sense of nationalism and national identity, with pervasive overtones of xenophobia” threatened (or promised) to “repress tribal and separatist attachments.”143 Modernization theorists considered valid only those forms of nationalism which, for residents of newly decolonized states, required external reference points that were only available through instruction from Western sources. The same nationalism which resulted from participation in the external, modern military project was supposed to prepare the military man to acknowledge graciously the inadequacy of his own society. When “large numbers of officers are forced to look outside their society for their models,” Pye wrote, “they have greater awareness of international standards and a greater sensitivity to weaknesses in [their] own society.”144 Further, military leaders were more self-confident, more able “to deal frankly and cordially” with external authorities, and more willing to accept correction from the West.145 Modern men could also face facts: “Military leaders are often far less suspicious of the West than civilian leaders because they themselves are more emotionally secure.”146 Therefore, Pye continued, “it is easier for the military leaders to accept the fact that their countries are weak and the West is strong without becoming emotionally disturbed or hostile toward the West.”147 Walt Whitman Rostow called this supposed phenomenon “reactive nationalism,” and predicted that newly modernized elites 141 Coleman and Brice, Jr., “The Role of the Military in Sub-Saharan Africa,” 402. 142 Lerner and Robinson, “Swords and Ploughshares,” 32. 143 Janowitz, The Military in the Political Development of New Nations: An Essay in Comparative Analysis, 63; Since then, many others have refuted the claim, including Altnay (for Turkey) and Fahmy (for Egypt). Ayşe Gül Altınay, The Myth of the Military Nation: Militarism, Gender, and Education in Turkey (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004); Fahmy, All the Pasha’s Men. 144 Pye, “Armies in the Process of Political Modernization,” 77. 145 Ibid., 87. 146 Ibid. 147 Ibid. 67 would uproot their traditional societies in order to protect them from humiliation by foreigners.148 This very conviction permeated the American military assistance program that brought military members from dozens of countries to the United States for professional education and training and formed the core of American military assistance policy to Ghana for the next thirty years. Of course, Ghanaian policymakers and Ghanaian officers carried different assumptions about the practical and ideological significance of their training. Not only did these theorists assume that the habits of the modern military could spread to the rest of society, by identifying indigenous officers as an alternate postcolonial elite, theorists easily integrated existing American military assistance policy from the early 1960s. Officers especially, Pye wrote, were “spiritually in tune with the intellectuals, students, and those other elements in society most anxious to become part of the modern world.”149 They were also blank slates who did not carry the intellectual baggage of the independence struggle, and who might respond eagerly to the supposedly merit-based opportunities the military provided. “An Army officer at present,” William Gutteridge wrote about Ghana in 1965, “is more likely to be the son of a peasant cocoa farmer or a post office official than of a professional man, who will probably have educated his son for the bar or the civil service or a similar occupation of established prestige.”150 Those from humble families or rural regions who had secondary education might choose the military to overcome the hindrance their social or regional background posed.151 Modernization theorists recognized that military service during the colonial era carried a stigma. Men from repressed minority groups often served, or the uneducated, or those without other economic options.152 In Ghana, colonial-era soldiers were called “Abongo Boys,” a 148 Rostow, The Process of Economic Growth: A Non-Communist Manifesto, 26. 149 Pye, “Armies in the Process of Political Modernization,” 77. 150 Gutteridge, Military Institutions and Power in the New States, 44. 151 Janowitz, The Military in the Political Development of New Nations: An Essay in Comparative Analysis, 60. 152 Lerner and Robinson, “Swords and Ploughshares,” 34; Coleman and Brice, Jr., “The Role of the Military in Sub- Saharan Africa,” 401; Pye, “Armies in the Process of Political Modernization,” 80; See also Killingray, “Imagined 68 degrading epithet for men who became soldiers because they had no education, had dropped out of school, or were “failures in general, who turned to soldiering as a last result.”153 In the 1940s and 1950s, these were mainly Ghanaians from the north. Ghanaian historian Stephen Kojo Addae suggests, “No sensible young man with a secondary education (and these were overwhelmingly southerners) would want to be a soldier.”154 As the proto-modern postcolonial institution, modernization theorists argued that the military-turned-modernizer offered education and social mobility, and promised to replace regional ethnic conflict with national pride. Lerner and Robinson claimed the military experience had fully integrated Turkish society: “Even ethnic minorities are now accepted as candidates for officer status. In the fall of 1955, indeed, several women were admitted to Turkey’s War Academy as cadets.”155 Applying military assistance in ways that harnessed the power of this “reactive nationalism” required identifying and isolating emerging military elites. The “Turkish experience,” Lerner proposed, had shown that “the distinction between economic and military assistance can be easily exaggerated,” and “the army, the public school, the industrial enterprise, the economic planning organization of an underdeveloped country tend to converge on common objectives.”156 Only with deliberate planning could military assistance attain “the maximum effect upon the economic and social development of the recipient country.”157 The nature of the American diplomatic service overseas, however, and the limited formal contact between State Martial Communities: Recruiting for the Military and Police in Colonial Ghana, 1860-1960,” 119; Timothy Parsons, The African Rank-and-File: Social Implications of Colonial Military Service in the King’s African Rifles, 1902-1964, Social History of Africa (Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann, 1999); Myron J. Echenberg, Colonial Conscripts: The Tirailleurs Sénégalais in French West Africa, 1857-1960, Social History of Africa (Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann, 1991). 153 S. Kojo Addae, A Short History of Ghana Armed Forces (Accra: Ministry of Defence of Ghana Armed Forces, 2005), 142; (Colonel) Akwasi A. Afrifa, The Ghana Coup, 24th February 1966 (London: Cass, 1966), 93. 154 Addae, A Short History of Ghana Armed Forces, viii; See also, Killingray, “Imagined Martial Communities: Recruiting for the Military and Police in Colonial Ghana, 1860-1960,” 129; David Killingray, “Soldiers, Ex- Servicemen, and Politics in the Gold Coast, 1939–50,” The Journal of Modern African Studies 21, no. 03 (1983): 523–34. 155 Lerner and Robinson, “Swords and Ploughshares,” 34. Italics in original. 156 Ibid., 39. 157 Ibid., 38. 69 Department employees and foreign militaries meant that few lessons in modernity via military training could occur there. It was essential that foreign military personnel came to the United States.158 Therefore, Lerner recommended, “Foreign military personnel coming to this country for professional or technical training should perhaps also be exposed to our economic processes, political institutions, and social practices.”159 Although this type of professional military training “may well come to differ somewhat from that which is most appropriate in the United States or Western Europe,” he argued, “perhaps, learning from the Turkish experience, we can help other countries to harness their national motivation to become strong, via military organization, more directly to the drive for accelerated development.”160 As the 1950s ended, influential social scientists who articulated a technocratic solution to the political, economic, and cultural poverty of the “developing world” overcame their reluctance to endorse military assistance as a strategy for modernization. They did so partly because the multibillion dollar Mutual Security Program, flawed as it was, offered a lucrative path to enact their projects. National security still generated public support, while Americans generally quailed at foreign economic aid. Supposed success stories in Turkey, Egypt, and Iran also lent intellectual credibility to the power of military service to transform individuals. The method and the place where military men and women received those lessons in nationalism, technology, professionalism, and modernity became important links connecting modernization theory, American security assistance policy, and programs that brought foreign military personnel to the United States. 158 Janowitz, The Military in the Political Development of New Nations: An Essay in Comparative Analysis, 97. 159 Lerner and Robinson, “Swords and Ploughshares,” 39. 160 Ibid. 70 Modernization Theory Becomes Policy “The Rostows of this world are not content merely to write books,” historian Mark Mazower writes, “they aim to shift policy,” and modernization theorists ascended to positions of political influence in the new Kennedy administration.161 “Euphoria reigned,” recalled Kennedy’s “court historian” Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., “we thought for a moment that the world was plastic and the future unlimited.”162 Rostow crowed, “Since Nov. 8, 1960, [Kennedy’s election], a most extraordinary concentration of thought and memoranda-writing has taken place on the question of how to reorganize foreign aid.”163 At the CIS, Millikan, and Lerner continued to mingle social science scholarship with influencing policy. Pye took a position at the State Department. 164 Rostow, who had coined Kennedy’s evocative phrases “the New Frontier” and “the Development Decade” during the campaign, became one of Kennedy’s most influential advisors. He set right to work dismantling the “old look” of military assistance, calling it “a defensive effort to shore-up weak economies and to buy short-run political and military advantages” to inaugurate “a coordinated Free World effort with enough resources to move forward those nations prepared to mobilize their own resources.”165 The liberal universalism of modernization theorists offered interchangeable, scientifically-derived, and measurable paths that could be transplanted onto any society and accelerated, with care. But for it to operate when grafted onto existing military assistance programs, another, less definable faith in the transformative power of the international military ideal had to exist first. 161 Mazower, Governing the World, 291. 162 Quoted in Latham, Modernization as Ideology, 58; On “Court historian,” Sam Tanenhaus, “History, Written in the Present Tense,” The New York Times, March 4, 2007, sec. Week in Review, http://www.nytimes.com/2007/03/04/weekinreview/04tanenhaus.html. 163 Rostow, “94. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol IX,” 207. 164 Latham, Modernization as Ideology, 55, 7. 165 Rostow, “94. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol IX,” 205. 71 Under current leadership, it seemed to modernization theorists of the early 1960s, American military officers were incapable or unwilling to perceive the potential for transforming visiting foreign officers under their charge. At least, they were wasting an opportunity. U.S. military forces offered an effective path to development, but military leaders were slow to understand the revolutionary nature of their task, their human subjects’ potential as targets for modernization, or the richness of their environments for teaching.166 In a 1962 article in World Politics, Charles Windle and T. R. Vallance of George Washington University’s Human Resources Research Office acknowledged a consensus among intellectuals that training foreign military personnel in the U.S. had considerable potential to transform target societies, but just like Harlan Cleveland in The Overseas Americans, they lamented that the American military still concentrated too much on teaching “combat.”167 American military trainers lacked the foresight to combine military and nonmilitary capabilities. “Other potential benefits of training, such as improving the political, social, and economic status of foreign countries, are treated as collateral benefits,” they moaned, and military administrators only considered these “byproducts” useful “if they can be achieved simultaneously with military benefits at little or no extra expense.168 Given the tendency of Congress “to prefer defense aid to foreign aid expenditures,” Windle and Vallance advocated maintaining the current programs that brought large numbers of the global South’s new alternate elite to the United States for military training.169 But they also suggested that an ambitious effort to “diversify institutional commitments within the defense establishment” might wrest the social significance military training from “a heavy investment in the production and use of weaponry to other socially useful activities.”170 The existing 166 Windle and Vallance, “Optimizing Military Assistance Training,” 96, 92. 167 Harlan Cleveland, The Overseas Americans, 1st ed., The Carnegie Series in American Education (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1960), 79. 168 Windle and Vallance, “Optimizing Military Assistance Training,” 94. 169 Ibid., 97. 170 Ibid., 97. 72 infrastructure of military assistance, then, provided a convenient host through which theorists attempted to insinuate a new ideological program aimed at spreading the lessons of modernization to visiting elites from newly decolonized states. In 1961, the ideological content of those programs changed dramatically. When Kennedy ascended to the Presidency in 1961, he claimed to close the door on the moribund “Decade of Defense,” and announced that the 1960s would be a “Decade of Development.”171 Secretary of State Rusk told Kennedy that Congress and the American people were tired of the “old symbols, maladministration and waste, neo-isolationism, and the protectionism produced by the economic distress in our own country.”172 Rusk called for “A fresh, positive aid program, scaled to the requirements, and presented with persistence and boldness.”173 As he introduced his Foreign Assistance Act of 1961 to Congress in March 1961, President John F. Kennedy amplified that message, and called for a massive reform of the foreign aid system that was as much ideological as it was practical.174 More than just the “Mutual Security” label disappeared from the American foreign aid program in 1961. “I am recommending the replacement of those agencies with a new one,” Kennedy told Congress; “A fresh start under new leadership.”175 All aspects of American aid were fair game for reform. Where modernization theory merged with prior American assumptions about their exceptional communities, the international military education and training program deflected a challenge, and secured a new purpose for itself. Great personalities churned American foreign 171 John F. Kennedy, Final Annual Report on the Operations of the Mutual Security Program, House Document No. 432, 87th Congress, 2d Session, (June 12, 1962), 2; Kennedy, “Special Message to the Congress on Foreign Aid - March 22, 1961,” 205. 172 Dean Rusk, “95. Memorandum From Secretary of State Rusk to President Kennedy; March 10, 1961,” in Foreign Economic Policy, vol. IX, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961-1963 (Washington D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 210. 173 Ibid. 174 Kennedy, “Special Message to the Congress on Foreign Aid - March 22, 1961.” 175 Ibid., 208. 73 policy in the summer of 1961 that threatened all aspects of American foreign assistance. On May 31, 1961, as he convened the Senate Foreign Relations Committee for hearings on the Foreign Assistance Act of 1961, J. William Fulbright leveled what seemed like a withering criticism against American military training programs. “Apparently,” he challenged, “we have trained military forces for the kinds of battles that are not fought. We have trained individuals who have not had the will to protect their freedom.”176 He captured the mood of the Senate, Kennedy, and much of the American public when he criticized “routine, unimaginative administration of programs, and there is a belief that we have become bogged down in annual expenditure procedures without much rhyme or reason or planning for the future”177 In that small corner of the massive foreign aid structure in which international military training and education resided, however, a subtle shift in emphasis reinforced the program’s ideological foundation for decades. As the Senate hearings on the Foreign Assistance Act sprawled across June, across town at Foggy Bottom, Under Secretary of State Chester Bowles channeled Fulbright’s anger to assert the Department of State’s new authority over American military assistance programs. On June 14, Bowles sent Secretary of State Rusk a sweeping proposal, outlining a broad reform agenda, and recommending improvements for nearly every aspect of State’s involvement with American foreign policy. Bowles interpreted the Department of State’s scope of authority over security assistance broadly. “Another area of our overseas operations which we should consider most carefully,” he told Rusk, “is the thousands of military personnel from foreign countries who are brought each year to the United States under the Military Assistance Program for training by the U.S. military in the use of new weapons and techniques.”178 To Bowles, “These many contacts 176 Hearings Before the Senate Committee On Foreign Relations on the Foreign Assistance Act of 1961, 28. 177 Ibid. 178 Chester C. Bowles, “30. Memorandum from the Under Secretary of State (Bowles) to Secretary of State Rusk; Subject: The Need to Improve the Administration of Foreign Policy; June 14, 1961,” in Organization of Foreign Policy; Information Policy; United Nations; Scientific Matters, ed. Paul Claussen, Evan M. Duncan, and Jeffrey A. 74 provide a ready-made opportunity to create a better understanding of our country, its beliefs, and policies.”179 He called for a reevaluation of the program to “improve their general understanding of the United States, its people and its policies.”180 What Bowles called “a better understanding of our country, its beliefs, and policies,” represented an explicit, and new, endorsement of foreign military training in the U.S. for a completely different purpose than Fulbright recognized. Although Fulbright railed against all American training missions, those overseas as well as those occurring stateside, and Bowles addressed only that subset which occurred where foreign military personnel received training in the U.S., Bowles and Rusk clearly expected different outcomes than military competence, the ability to fight the correct battles, or efficiency of administration. This training did not require a specific, national security-directed justification, and its primary lessons had no specific combat- related relevance.181 Bowles’ recommendation clarified prior State Department policy drafts that searched for a new, coherent rationale for U.S. military assistance programs that encompassed more than just “the military posture of the United States.”182 Those programs that brought foreign military personnel to the U.S. were an ideal place to start. Following Bowles’ directive, in 1963, Deputy Secretary of Defense Roswell Gilpatrick issued an initial policy memorandum to the Secretaries of the armed forces and commanders of all military commands establishing “An Informational Program for Foreign Military Trainees and Visitors in the United States.”183 The “Informational Program” memo established several Soukup, vol. XXV, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961-1963 (Washington, DC: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 2001), 56. 179 Ibid. 180 Ibid. 181 See William O. Webb, “84. Report Prepared by the Policy Planning Council; Undated (c. January 19, 1961); Subject: US Military Aid Policy toward Non-NATO Countries,” in Foreign Economic Policy, vol. IX, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961-1963 (Washington D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 191. 182 Ibid., 189. 183 Roswell Gilpatrick, “Memorandum for the Service Secretaries from the Deputy Secretary of Defense, September 13, 1963; Subject: An Informational Program for Foreign Military Trainees and Visitors in the United States,” Memo (Washington, DC, September 13, 1963), FOIA Request, in author’s possession. 75 “informational objectives” that dictated the types of additional classes, visits, and lessons desired to give foreign military trainees “a balanced understanding . . . of United States society, institutions, and ideals.”184 It required all military education facilities that hosted international students to present lessons in these subjects because, Gilpatrick wrote, “Successful attainment of these objectives and full exposure of the foreign trainee to the nonmilitary aspects of American life are considered to be of importance to the military assistance program second only to the strictly military training objectives of that program.”185 Centers for American military training and education, such as the Army’s Command and General Staff College at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, had hosted international students from allied states for decades, and many had already developed programs for augmenting their courses’ military curricula with tours, guest lecturers, or “demonstrations of American life.” This memorandum formalized the agenda of those programs across all Department of Defense institutions. In January 1965, the Department of Defense replaced the policy memorandum with a formal directive that dictated the program’s intent and content for the next two decades. The directive changed slightly in 1985, adding “human rights” and “women’s rights” as areas of emphasis, but the eleven “significant facets of American life” that the directive aimed to display remained.186 The “significant facets of American life” the Informational Program identified reads like a modernization theory cookbook, “each of which contributes a sound grasp of our society, institutions and ideals.”187 Regarding American government, the informational program should 184 Ibid., 2. 185 Ibid. 186 U.S. Department of Defense, “Department of Defense Directive 5410.17 ‘An Informational Program for Foreign Military Trainees and Visitors in the United States,’” January 15, 1965, Combined Arms Research Library; U.S. Department of Defense, “Department of Defense Directive 5410.17 ‘An Informational Program for Foreign Military Trainees and Visitors in the United States,’” March 1, 1985, http://www.dtic.mil/dtic/tr/fulltext/u2/a272252.pdf; U.S. Department of Defense, “Department of Defense Instruction 5410.17 United States Field Studies Program (FSP) for International Military and Civilian Students and Military-Sponsored Visitors,” September 15, 2006, http://www.dtic.mil/whs/directives/corres/pdf/541017p.pdf. 187 U.S. Department of Defense, “DoDD 5410.17 15 January 1965,” 3. 76 “make a point many if not most foreigners misapprehend” about federal, state, and local government accountability and decentralization, with special attention to political parties and the “loyal opposition.” To demonstrate the American economy: tours of both big businesses and labor unions; understanding “the diversity of enterprise and ownership in our mixed economy;” the importance of “education, research, and governmental assistance” in improving agricultural productivity; public housing and welfare projects “will be of particular interest to foreign military trainees.” To display American society: public schools and universities showed “the connection between education and a responsible citizenry”; the free press—that one American institution “foreigners find most difficult to grasp”; political and civil rights for minority groups “with special reference to the Negro problem”; visits to baseball and football games, golf matches, rodeos, and regattas.188 Although each military facility interpreted and applied the Informational Program according to its own circumstances, these categories had little military application. Instead, they exactly match modernization theorists’ model of “a New Deal on an international scale,” which considered full employment, an end to poverty, unionism that embraced big business, inclusive governance, and respect for civil liberties the praiseworthy products of American liberal universalism.189 Army officials did not distinguish between formal Informational Program activities and unofficial, community-sponsored activities when describing their programs for international officers. At Fort Leavenworth in 1991, for example, Colonel William Eggering, the American officer in charge of in international students, described a typical year’s schedule: Picnic with Leavenworth Sponsors; Wolf Creek Nuclear Power Plant tour; tour of Southwestern Bell Telephone company; tour of TWA airline maintenance facilities in Kansas City; Kansas City 188 Gilpatrick, “Memorandum for the Service Secretaries from the Deputy Secretary of Defense, September 13, 1963; Subject: An Informational Program for Foreign Military Trainees and Visitors in the United States.” 189 Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 20. 77 People-to-People Rodeo; Fall and Spring Food Fairs; Military Order of the World Wars luncheon for International Officers; Winter Formal ball; Kansas City and Leavenworth Rotary Club functions; Tour of Fort Hood, Texas, Houston, and NASA; Washington DC trip, including Colonial Williamsburg and Norfolk Naval Base; Kansas State Government Tour; Missouri riverboat tour; Guest speakers, including a state senator, judge, AFL-CIO representative, National Organization for Women leader, and local school officials.190 The Informational Program funded some of these activities, including the tours of Houston and Washington, DC. Local organizations including the Leavenworth-Lansing Chamber of Commerce, Rotary Clubs, Officers Wives Club, and Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People sponsored others. Colonel Eggering made no distinction between functions, since they all matched the “Commandant’s Goal” to “assist officers and families in acquiring a balanced understanding of U.S. society, institutions and goals.”191 As an attempt to graft lessons in liberal universalism embedded in modernization theory onto an existing military assistance program, Military Internationalism supplied the essential ideological bridges between American foreign policy, the Informational Program, and American communities. First, extant international military training programs provided access to thousands of visitors from the global South each year. By 1960, military training brought more foreign students to the United States than any other exchange program combined, including between 90 and 130 international officers attending six month or one year long courses at Fort Leavenworth’s Command and General Staff College annually after 1956.192 Next, policymakers—including the Secretary of State, Deputy Secretary of Defense, and 190 “Sample Activities” and “Visiting Lecturers” slides in William H. Eggering, “Class Director’s Mission Statement,” Presentation, (September 10, 1991), Box 1, Folder 6, CARL International Officer Collection. 191 “Commandant’s Goals” slide in ibid. 192 Windle and Vallance, “Optimizing Military Assistance Training,” 91; William Philip Pipkin, “Allied Personnel at USACGSC,” Reconnaissance, 1980, Box 1, Folder 8, CARL International Officer Collection. 78 modernization theorists in the Kennedy Administration—agreed that understanding the United States’ “society, institutions, and ideals” were as important in producing psychological transformation as any supposedly “military” lessons visitors learned. They also agreed that American civilian communities, not military training staff, best demonstrated those ideals, and instituted the Informational Program to codify that faith into military policy. The Informational Program did not invent interaction between military posts and their communities, it formalized existing bands of cooperation that had formed organically. Local sponsor families had been assisting international officers and their families at Fort Leavenworth since 1952, coffee klatches and international language clubs for wives and families began in 1947, and at its very first membership dinner in February 1963, the Greater Kansas City People- to-People branch made cooperating with Fort Leavenworth’s international officer program a top priority.193 The Informational Program’s authors recognized existing community attitudes and programs surrounding foreign military personnel in American communities, then attempted to focus the programs’ ideological content to match the goals modernization theory prescribed for creating a new elite in target states. Finally, although the Informational Program enumerated specific political, economic, and cultural lessons, it assumed that civilian communities supporting each activity automatically represented the ideal for the visitor to experience. As we will see, the communities themselves also assumed as much, as they un-self-consciously merged international visitors into their community organizations. In many cases, as when the Greater Kansas City People-to-People branch boasted of being the exemplar branch for People-to-People International worldwide, the 193 Unknown, “PTP Program and Goals Emphasized at First Installation Dinner,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, April 1963, GKCPTP; John Reichley, International Officers: A Century of Participation at the United States Army Command and General Staff College (Leavenworth, KS: U.S. Army Command and General Staf College, 1994), 24; Col. (Ret) William P. Pipkin, “Programs for Allied Officers,” c 1992, Box 1, Folder 3, CARL International Officer Collection. 79 international visitors sometimes became community organization’s raison d’etre.194 All the Americans in the process, from modernization theorists to policymakers to communities, believed that the experience of life in ordinary American communities would inspire or reveal a new psychological orientation in international military visitors. Military Internationalism, therefore, provided the unspoken catalyst for the ideals of modernization embedded in the Informational Program. The location of the exchange mattered, and American education and training programs at overseas locations never attempted to match the ideological and psychological impact of American training within the United States. In Latin America, for example, Kennedy’s Alliance for Progress was no less committed to applying modernization ideology through economic and security assistance, but most encounters with Latin American military students took place in Latin America, usually at the U.S. Army School of the Americas in the Panama Canal Zone.195 The U.S. poured five times as much money into international military training and education for Latin America than Africa in the 1960s, and trained thirteen times more Latin American students than Africans, but the vast majority of that training occurred at the School of the Americas.196 Canal Zone schools made no attempt to provide students with broad exposure to American life. All instruction was in Spanish and emphasized “teaching students with a lower educational level certain basic and less sophisticated military subjects,” including automotive and radio repair, 194 Dan Millman, “Inside PTP,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, October 1969, Binder: Contact 1963-1970, GKCPTP. 195 Latham, Modernization as Ideology, chap. 3; General Accounting Office, School of the Americas: U.S. Military Training for Latin American Countries; Report to the Ranking Minority Member, Committee on National Security, House of Representatives (Washington, DC: General Accounting Office; National Security and International Affairs Division, August 22, 1996), 20. The U.S. Army Caribbean School-Spanish Instruction existed there since 1946, Kennedy renamed it the School of the Americas in 1963. It moved to Fort Benning, Georgia in 1984; The U.S. Air Force ran a smaller Inter-American Air Forces Academy and the U.S. Navy ran the Navy Small Craft Instruction and Technical Team from the Canal Zone as well. Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, 62. 196 FY 1962-1970 for Africa: $19.4 million; for Latin America: $91.3 million; Total number of students from Africa FY 1962-1970: 3,348 ($11.6 million and 1,900 of which were from Ethiopia, where the U.S. had a mobile training team); from Latin America: 43,831. Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, 99–110. 80 artillery, infantry, and military police tactics.197 By the 1970s, counterinsurgency dominated the curriculum.198 Uruguayan officers later recalled that courses in internal security, urban counterinsurgency, intelligence, and “interrogation by military intelligence” were the most popular.199 The Canal Zone schools left a legacy of militarism within some Latin American societies that continued after the School of the Americas moved to Fort Benning, Georgia in 1984. American-sponsored training for Latin American militaries still took place overwhelmingly within Latin America even after the move.200 Even in Georgia, anthropologist Lesley Gill argues, despite an initial nod to the ideals of the Informational Program, American faculty and off-base communities employed the language of international exchange imperiously to enforce a culture of inequality.201 “A Latin American soldier,” Gill argues, “would have to search hard before he encountered large numbers of white, middle-class citizens who represent the ‘real Americans’ of military imagery.”202 The School of the Americas offered a much starker contrast to the less technical, mostly political, objectives of the international military education and training program for selected military elites from West Africa. It reveals a chasm separating the ideologies of international military education and the actual results of that training indicative of the disastrous Cold War legacy of Third World military intervention Odd Arne Westad describes.203 Chapter 3 will argue that evidence of American support for human rights abusers in Latin America and elsewhere barely dented the ideological shell protecting the international military education and training program. Evidence and ideology inhabited separate worlds. Civilian volunteers around other 197 Ibid., 63. 198 General Accounting Office, School of the Americas, 9. 199 Lawrence Weschler, “A Reporter at Large: The Great Exception I -- Liberty,” The New Yorker, April 3, 1989, 48. 200 Jack Nelson-Pallmeyer, School of Assassins: Guns, Greed, and Globalization, Revised (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2001), 19. 201 Gill, The School of the Americas, 28. 202 Ibid., 33. 203 Westad, The Global Cold War, 5. 81 American military schools saw a third side to the issue, as well. For them, as Chapter 4 explores, international military families’ presence actualized their own faith in the power of personal relationships to exceed national foreign policy objectives. When reforming the Military Assistance Program to encourage stateside military courses to emphasize lessons in the American way of life, Kennedy, Rostow, Rusk, and Gilpatrick tapped into the public’s own faith that it already embodied a modern ideal. The new Kennedy administration energized or steamrolled many competing government factions into supporting the significant reforms the Foreign Assistance Act of 1961 enacted. The Act, and coincident legislation creating the Peace Corps and the Alliance for Progress, capitalized on Americans’ confidence in the useful—and even transformative—power that living among the American people could have on visitors from around the world.204 Most of all, Kennedy’s reforms securely enshrined those programs which brought foreign military personnel to the United States with a narrative that affirmed, despite a dearth of supporting evidence, their transformative potential, their long-term success at forging strategic partnerships, and their cost-effectiveness. Those “significant facets of American life” the Informational Program held up for foreign military visitors reflected a shared faith in a version of Military Internationalism that provided a fertile ground for applying modernization theory in American communities. Ironically, as we shall see, the ideological content of military exchange programs remained largely outside of federal control. The Informational Program also survived long after modernization theory became unfashionable. 204 See Hoffmann, All You Need Is Love. 82 Military Modernization’s Eclipse Events in the mid-1960s shattered the truce between apologists for “military modernization” and social scientists with grave misgivings about the rapid expansion of military governments in the global South. Nationalism, war, and a rash of military coups throughout Africa, Asia, and Latin America forced social scientists and politicians to reevaluate the usefulness of military assistance programs as a whole.205 Training and education programs for foreign military members in the United States did not end, however. Other parties in the initial bargain, including the recipients themselves, simply changed or even heightened the rhetoric behind Military Internationalism to defend and uphold the U.S.’s foreign military training program. For some states, including Ghana, the patterns of American military assistance based exclusively on international military training and education became firm, and both the type and quantity of American aid changed little after that. Social scientists had always struggled to understand the connection between the military’s potential as modernizer versus its potential as political usurper. By the mid-1960s, some blamed social science itself for failing to take military sociology seriously or evaluate modernization theory critically. Henry Bienen of Princeton accused “academic opponents of the conception of militaries as modernizing institutions” of abandoning the field between 1960 and 1965.206 In the decade after 1967, research on the performance of military rule in new states abounded, refuting the previous assertion that the Turkish experience was an appropriate model 205 In Africa, there were at least 18 coups or attempted coups between 1962 and 1967A. B. Assensoh and Yvette Alex-Assensoh, African Military History and Politics: Ideological Coups and Incursions, 1900-Present (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2002), 7. 206 Henry Bienen, ed., The Military and Modernization (Chicago: Aldine Atherton, 1971), 9; See also, John P. Lovell and C. I. Eugene Kim, “The Military and Political Change in Asia,” Pacific Affairs 40, no. 1/2 (April 1, 1967): 113–23; Price, “A Theoretical Approach to Military Rule in New States”; Robert M. Price, “Military Officers and Political Leadership: The Ghanaian Case,” Comparative Politics 3, no. 3 (April 1, 1971): 361–79. 83 for understanding Asian or African states’ modernization, and pointing to evidence that military officers often were equally corrupt, unable to build legitimate political institutions, and had fewer public administration skills than the civilian governments they replaced.207 Nevertheless, influential new academic currents also acknowledged the military’s potential to maintain order, despite its seeming inability to restore constitutional rule, and tempered Western social scientists’ condemnation of military regimes.208 In 1965, Samuel P. Huntington forged a new path to understanding, even tolerating, military regimes. Huntington enabled the intellectual detachment of the large and ongoing military assistance program from the ideological sustenance it had enjoyed in the early years of the decade, and which appeared increasingly threatened as the Vietnam War expanded. Arguing in World Politics that “rapid modernization” often produced political decay, not political development, Huntington suggested that American policy ought to be to delay modernization where adequate political institutions did not also exist.209 Military officers in juntas or dictatorships may be “modernizers par excellence,” he argued, but they were frequently “indifferent or hostile to the needs of political institution-building.”210 On the other hand, military officers, as patriotic conservatives, could also inhibit the unregulated expansion of mass participation in government that threatened developing societies. Huntington argued that “modernity” did not entail prosperity, liberty, or progress; those resulted from a just and stable 207 On Turkey, see Claude E. Welch, “The African Military and Political Development,” in The Military and Modernization, ed. Henry Bienen (Chicago: Aldine Atherton, 1971), 224; On military rulers’ persistence, see Bienen, The Military and Modernization; On “theory-research gap,” see Price, “A Theoretical Approach to Military Rule in New States”; On administration skills, see Welch, “The African Military and Political Development,” 228; Price, “Military Officers and Political Leadership”; Aristide R. Zolberg, “The Structure of Political Conflict in the New States of Tropical Africa,” The American Political Science Review 62, no. 1 (March 1, 1968): 75. 208 The Univ. of Chicago’s Aristide Zolberg even suggested that the coup had become the normal, if not preferred, method of regime change in African politics--the functional equivalent of elections. Zolberg, “The Structure of Political Conflict in the New States of Tropical Africa,” 77–78. 209 Huntington, “Political Development and Political Decay,” 386. 210 Ibid., 423. 84 political order.211 To him, modernization theory was really only thinly disguised universalism. It revealed more about American liberalism than it provided answers on how to help new states achieve stability or prosperity.212 He was not the only theorist who called for a re-evaluation of American foreign policy in the global South world based on a pragmatic acceptance of the reality and potential of military intervention, but he was among the most influential. By the early 1970s, the catastrophic Vietnam War, the perceived failure of the War on Poverty, the persistence of postcolonial nationalism, and the emergence of radical critiques of American empire diminished modernization theory as a guide for American policy.213 Noam Chomsky condemned Kennedy’s clique of public intellectuals and technocrats whose “will to power, cloaking itself in idealism” only spread tragedy in the Third World by expanding American imperial power.214 Andre Gunder Frank argued in 1966 that underdevelopment in the Third World was actually a built-in and intentional counterpart to capitalist development in the First World, while Gabriel and Joyce Kolko revived William A. Williams’ criticism of American foreign policy for expanding the American economic empire at the Third World’s expense.215 Critics from the right, such as P.T. Bauer’s 1972 Dissent on Development, questioned whether foreign aid did more harm by concentrating power in the inefficient and unaccountable state.216 Motivated by ideological criticism from left and right, Congress slashed all foreign aid programs after 1967.217 Thomas E. Morgan (D-PA) of the House Committee on Foreign Affairs captured 211 Ibid., 420. 212 Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 229. 213 Ibid., 205. 214 Chomsky, American Power and the New Mandarins, 332. 215 Andre Gunder Frank, “The Development of Underdevelopment,” Monthly Review 18, no. 4 (1966): 17–31; Joyce Kolko and Gabriel Kolko, The Limits of Power: The World and United States Foreign Policy, 1945-1954 (New York: Harper & Row, 1972), 2; Williams, The Tragedy of American Diplomacy, 14; Teresa Hayter, Aid as Imperialism. (Baltimore, MD: Penguin, 1971). 216 Péter Tamás Bauer, Dissent on Development; Studies and Debates in Development Economics (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1972). 217 Vietnam-related grant military aid usually does not appear in annual foreign aid reports because it was provided from a separate military assistance service fund account, which was outside the regular military assistance program account, Grimmett, Foreign Assistance and Related Programs Appropriations for 1986, 430; Ruttan, United States Development Assistance Policy, 105. 85 the mood of a stingy and suspicious Congress, arguing in 1969, “the construction of powerplants, highways, irrigation systems, and even the financing of projects for the improvement of the health and diet of the population frequently do not bring about the basic changes in social, political, and economic institutions which are essential to economic development and the attainment of social justice.”218 The era of grand projects by the “Mandarins of the Future” and the “Economists with Guns” seemed to end, even if Walt W. Rostow refused to repent of it.219 Congress slashed military assistance budgets after 1967, but left international military education and training programs mostly intact. The original faith, embedded in the Informational Program’s assumption that life among American communities offered essential political and social lessons and transformed visiting military personnel, preserved them. Writing in Foreign Affairs, the House Foreign Affairs Committee’s Donald M. Fraser (D-MN) defended the reorientation American foreign aid that dispatched with the illusion of massive American economic aid creating stable democracies in the global South, and instead “put social and political evolution as the first concern, with economic aid playing the supporting role rather than the other way around.”220 As one new direction for foreign aid, Fraser suggested, “Providing students from developing nations with a more profound understanding of development processes and their relationship to ideology would be most productive.”221 As if taking their cue from Fraser, with austerity looming over American military assistance budgets, programs that targeted individual recipients of American versions of modernity never lost their ideological luster. 218 House Committee on Foreign Affairs, Foreign Assistance Act of 1969; Report of the Committee on Foreign Affairs Together with Minority, Supplemental and Additional Views on H.R. 14580 to Promote the Foreign Policy, Security, and General Welfare of the United States by Assisting Peoples of the World, Etc. (House: 91st Congress 1st Session; Committee on Foreign Affairs, November 6, 1969), 10. 219 Gilman, paraphrasing Ithiel de Sola Pool, and bouncing off Chomsky in Gilman, Mandarins of the Future; Simpson, Economists with Guns; For Rostow on Vietnam in 1974, see Peter Davis, Hearts and Minds, Documentary, (1974), l. 1:32 ; W.W. Rostow, “Vietnam and Asia,” Diplomatic History 20, no. 3 (1996): 268. 220 Donald M. Fraser, “New Directions in Foreign Aid,” World Affairs 129, no. 4 (January 1, 1967): 245, 250; “Front Matter,” World Affairs 129, no. 4 (January 1, 1967): 217, http://www.jstor.org/stable/20670838. 221 Fraser, “New Directions in Foreign Aid,” 249–250. 86 In January 1968, as one bad year ended and another just beginning, and as the President, Secretary of State Rusk, and Defense Secretary McNamara planned for further dramatic cuts in foreign assistance, they reiterated their support for programs that brought individuals from potential allies in the global South to the U.S. for military training. McNamara foresaw no end to the Vietnam War, feared direct communist assaults elsewhere in Asia, and expected the Soviet Union to attempt to displace or replace U.S. or Western influence everywhere else.222 Despite a thirty-three percent reduction in Military Assistance Program funding in FY 1968 and further reductions in FY 1969, he refused to alter the overall program’s major objectives of providing “friendly countries” with arms, obtaining U.S. access to bases abroad, helping “friendly countries protect the fabric of their societies against internal violence,” and “dispos[ing] nations favorably toward the US in their diplomacy [and] public sentiment.”223 All those objectives remained valid, he said, and none was inherently more important than any other, but he calculated that U.S. military assistance only directly contained communist military aggression in Korea, Taiwan, Greece, Turkey, and Iran.224 Even against internal instability, McNamara reasoned, “there are distinct limits to the usefulness of military assistance.”225 In all other cases, the goal of American military assistance was essentially political in nature, intended to foster favorable attitudes toward the US and its policies, especially “in countries where the military is an important political force.”226 Joint training programs, McNamara wrote, “particularly training in the US, [are] the ingredient for which I do not believe there is a real substitute.” “Such training is an effective augmentation of our diplomacy,” he 222 Robert S McNamara, “Draft Memorandum for the President on the Military Assistance Program, FY 1969-1973; December 18, 1967” (Washington, DC, December 18, 1967), 3–7, RG 59 CFPF 1967-1969; Box 1684; Folder DEF 19 Ghana, NACP. 223 Ibid., 8. 224 Ibid., 9. 225 Ibid., 11. 226 Ibid., 12. 87 argued, “and should be continued.”227 Especially in states dominated by their militaries, McNamara argued, even the smallest programs for military assistance provided “a basis for frequent communications between US and local military leaders” which was otherwise “not easily accessible to influence through normal diplomatic intercourse.”228 This was partly an expression of distrust for diplomats. More likely, McNamara idealized the free communication between military officials of similar rank between different states an essential facilitator for Military Internationalism. As a result, McNamara and his successors devoted a larger percentage of shrinking American military assistance budgets to those programs as the decade closed. Up from 6% of the total budget in 1962, international education and training absorbed 10% percent of the total Military Assistance Plan budget of $800 million in 1967.229 By 1969, Congress appropriated $375 million for entire Military Assistance Plan (down from $1.6 billion in 1962), but international education and training absorbed 14% of it.230 In academic and policy circles, by 1970 modernization theory had lost relevance, but its embedded assumptions which motivated military education and training programs had not gone away.231 Despite widespread disillusion with what the historian of modernization theory Nils Gilman calls “the atrocities committed from Iran to China to Vietnam in the name of modernization,” some of the specific projects that modernization theorists championed in the early 1960s continued. What saved them were their intellectual justifications that rested on pre- existing emotional foundations, and which, as Elizabeth Cobb Hoffmann suggests in the case of 227 Ibid. 228 Ibid. 229 Total MAP numbers from United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1981, 1980, 6, ASI: 80 Fiche 7144-13, U.S. Government Documents, Anshutz Library, University of Kansas. The MAP did not make up the entirety of American security assistance. Many different programs fell under this broader umbrella, including vast sums of military and economic aid for Egypt and Israel. Also, specific labels changed over the years. For consistency, I use the term “MAP” as a relatively stable benchmark for a specific set of military assistance programs which excludes other forms of economic aid. 230 Ibid. 231 Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 23. 88 the Peace Corps but which applies equally to those Americans who administered the Informational Program, “did more for the helpers than for the helped.”232 Conclusion For three decades after the Deputy Secretary of Defense proclaimed it in 1963, neither the specifics nor the assumptions behind the Informational Program changed much. Most other aspects of American foreign assistance policy did. That is because the assumptions were older than modernization theory, and they preceded theorists’ ascent to political influence in the early 1960s. For a century, as the American empire spread west across the Pacific and south through Latin America, American soldiers, politicians, and scholars had assumed that the United States’ military embodied the ideal of modernity, and that it spread modernity in its wake. American communities around military facilities which trained foreign soldiers had incorporated them into their economic and social lives for decades, and, later surveys speculated, would continue even if the Informational Program formally ceased. But modernization theorists “usually denied any connections with earlier philosophies of history,” Michael Latham argues, and they seized the opportunity of Kennedy’s election to assert a new ideological mold onto a popular, and growing, program of American assistance around the globe.233 International military education and training became a prime target for modernization theorists’ ideological makeover in the early 1960s because those programs already reached so many men and women from target states. In the past, Cold War justifications built around arming and training American allies to combat or contain Communism overseas motivated the expansion of training and education programs. When a critical mass of academics-turned-policymakers, largely funded by the federal government, definitively broke with prior liberal traditions that 232 Hoffmann, All You Need Is Love, 9. 233 Latham, Modernization as Ideology, 59. 89 suspected or rejected the military’s usefulness as social reformer, they found in place a large, but mostly un-theorized, infrastructure for international exchange. This chapter explained how influential scholars such as Lucian Pye, Edward Shils, and Walt W. Rostow filled those intellectual gaps with the principles of modernization theory. With proper guidance from Washington, they thought, American military education and training programs could focus and transmit essential lessons in American modernity. The Informational Program that emerged in 1963 read like a master syllabus of modernization theory adapted for ordinary Americans’ use. Abroad, meanwhile, the apostles of high modernization escalated war in Vietnam, fabricated famine in India, and exacerbated political and agricultural crises in Afghanistan and Philippines in the 1960s.234 Either unwittingly or as canny political stunts, President Johnson and his advisors tried to turn these manufactured disasters into rituals of global leadership, but the academic consensus behind them did not hold.235 As academics rejected massive American intervention in military-supported modernization projects in the late 1960s, American foreign policy also retrenched. But neither in rhetoric nor in practice did the Informational Program abandon what modernization theorists first assumed it could accomplish: Visiting military personnel from target countries received from American communities lessons in American democracy and economy to become modern men and women; they internalized these lessons to critique their own societies and better appreciate the United States as individuals, and then on an institutional level as more and more graduates filled their nations’ military services; either under constitutional rule or military rule—it did not much matter which—the American-trained military officers replicated modernity in their home societies, which made them naturally align with the United States in the Cold War. 234 Cullather, The Hungry World, chap. 4, 5, 6, 8. 235 David Milne, America’s Rasputin: Walt Rostow and the Vietnam War (New York: Hill and Wang, 2008); Cullather, The Hungry World, 229. 90 Since American military education and training programs reached small numbers of military personnel in each target state, and since the transformation took place primarily at a subconscious level, the process was nearly impossible to measure. Indeed, high-profile cases of American-trained military officers periodically going amok occasionally threatened the entire proposition, but the faith held throughout the 1960s. Partly because it was so inexpensive, relative to massive aid projects that failed even more spectacularly, the program remained intact even when Congress slashed all other foreign assistance after 1967. But low cost was built-in to the ideology. What made the program so persistent was the specific sites of ideological transfer—American communities—were permanently above question. Indeed, they had always been, even before modernization theory became trendy. Modernization theorists re-assessed, approved, and refined the specific lessons in modernity that the Informational Program proposed to transmit, but implicitly recognized that the American people behind the institutions it idealized needed little ideological intervention. Such an intervention would have been unlikely to succeed anyway, as we shall see, since the communities had well-established motives for interacting with visiting military personnel and their families. From an American perspective, all parties involved in the interchange—from modernization theorists, State and Defense department staff, American military officers at education and training institutions, to civilians around such places—accepted the fundamental goodness of the personal interaction. The Informational Program’s faith in the power that ordinary Americans already possessed reveals that modernization was only a temporary and parallel explanation for the larger processes of internationalism already at work in American communities. Grand national strategies, foreign policy objectives, and high-level diplomacy often intervened in the program’s global structure, but individual human contact remained above discussion as the essential catalyst for the exchange’s fundamental usefulness. 91 Chapter 2: Independence and Internationalism: Ghana’s National Military and American Assistance Policy Introduction: Three Boxes “On occasions such as this,” Charles de-Graft Dickson, the Minister Responsible for Defense, told the gathering at the Ghana Military Academy, “it is always better not to make long speeches.”1 Canada had donated about “70 odd books and pamphlets” to the Ghana Military Academy, which was just a month away from graduating its first class of officers. De-Graft Dickson made sure to mention the eight Canadian instructors teaching at the Academy on this August afternoon in 1961.2 Then, on behalf of the Osagyefo, the President, he thanked the government and people of Canada, and the “short, but very impressive” ceremony ended.3 The next day, Lieutenant Colonel Harry Coates, the U.S. Army Attaché to Ghana, penned a letter to the Ministry of Defense offering to donate another collection of books and pamphlets—gathered from the United States’ service academies in New York, Maryland, and Colorado—to the Ghana Military Academy.4 Francis H. Russell, the American Ambassador, intended to present the gift personally, so Lieutenant Colonel Coates requested, “A suitable ceremony be arranged,” and he “recommended” that Ghana’s Minister of Defense and the Chief 1 Charles de Graft-Dickson, “Speech by the Minister Responsible for Defense on the Occasion of the Presentation of Books to the Ghana Military Academy by the Canadian Government” (Ghana Military Academy, Teshie, August 17, 1961), RG 14/4/506 Ghana Military Academy; document 188, PRAAD Dickson appears as Dixon in other sources. Still searching for his complete first name!. 2 Ibid. 3 President Kwame Nkrumah flamboyantly christened himself Ghana’s Osagyefo--usually translated “savior” or “messiah,” although de Graft-Dixon says “the Osagyefo, the President” here. Most documents in this RG use the term when referring to Nkrumah in the 3d person. Ibid. 4 Harry R. Coates, “Letter from Lt. Col. Harry R. Coates (U.S. Army) to N.F. Ribeiro-Ayeh (Ministry of Defense); August 18, 1961; Subject: Books and Pamphlets” (U.S. Embassy, Accra, August 18, 1961), RG 14/4/506 Ghana Military Academy; document 189, PRAAD. 92 of Defense Staff attend.5 Coates and the Minister of Defense scheduled the ceremony for September 5, 1961. Something came up—or rather, something crashed—and the Ghanaians postponed the ceremony. On September 1, the twin-engine airplane plane carrying Brigadier Joe Michel had crashed at a Ghanaian air base. He died from burns the next day.6 Michel was Ghana’s second commissioned officer; one of only two Ghanaian generals; the commander and hero of Ghana’s brigade in the Congo. He had just been promoted Chief of Staff of the Opération des Nations Unies au Congo (ONUC—United Nations Operation in the Congo), the highest promotion any African had attained in an international peacekeeping mission.7 Ghana’s President Nkrumah blamed the colonial powers for sabotaging Ghana’s peacekeeping mission, claiming they were desperate to prevent a Ghanaian from demonstrating that Africans were capable of commanding international troops.8 In deference, the U.S. agreed to postpone its book presentation ceremony until after Michel’s funeral service. This second book ceremony de-Graft Dickson apparently did not consider the kind of occasion to avoid a long speech. Neither did the U.S. Ambassador, who praised the gift of books as “symbolic of the bond of friendship” between the American and Ghanaian military academies.9 “There is a natural fraternity among those whose lives are dedicated to preparing for the defense of justice, liberty, and freedom,” Ambassador Russell claimed as he praised the 5 Ibid. 6 Unknown, “Michel Dies on Day of Triumph,” Daily Graphic, September 3, 1961, 1, CAMP Reel 12; July-Sept 1961, Center for Research Libraries. 7 Brigadier equates to the American rank of Brigadier General. Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 268, 276; Addae, A Short History of Ghana Armed Forces, 171, 177, 388; Francis Ameyibor, “Ghana Remembers Brigadier Joseph Michel’s 50 Years Anniversary,” Ghanaian News, GhanaWeb, (September 7, 2011), http://www.ghanaweb.com/GhanaHomePage/features/artikel.php?ID=218069 Oddly, all three of these sources list a different month for the plane crash, including July, August, and September 1961. . 8 Henry Kwami Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step (Accra: Sub-Saharan Publishers, 2010), 24; Unknown, “Ghana Paper Charges Britain Plotted Hammarskjold’s Death,” New York Times (1923-Current File), September 21, 1961, 6. 9 Russell, “News Release by United States Embassy, Accra; September 11, 1961; Subject: Remarks of the American Ambassador Mr. Francis K. Russell at the Presentation of Books to the Ghana Military Academy.” 93 particular quality of this batch of books.10 “I was struck by the titles of these 300 volumes,” he said, “They seem to me to be fully as symbolic of the gift itself.” Mixed among titles on ordinance, tactics, science, and math he also found “history, government, law, international relations, economics—and one called ‘modern civilization.’” Struck, but not surprised, Russell reflected that a text on “modern civilization” fit perfectly on the Ghana Military Academy’s library shelves, dedicated as it was to “the preservation of the vast total of human values which that title comprehends.”11 Just one month later, while on a visit to Moscow, the Ghana Military Academy Commandant received another box of books, courtesy of the Red Army.12 The Commandant and Ghana’s Ambassador addressed the parcel of books to the Minister of Defense and put it on an airplane for Accra. Nobody saw the books again. By May, the humiliated Commandant, Chief of Defense Staff, and Minister of Defense searched in vain for the boxes. After a year of searching, they quit.13 The story of these three parcels of books weaves assumptions about modernity and modernization, post-colonial African nationalism and pan-Africanism, and Cold War politics in 10 Ibid. 11 Ibid. 12 Maj. Gen. S. J. A. Otu, “Loose Minute; May 1, 1962; Subject: Gift of Russian Books for GMA Library” (Burma Camp, Accra, May 1, 1962), RG 14/4/506 Ghana Military Academy; document 234, PRAAD; Maj. Gen. S. J. A. Otu, “P.S.; May 3, 1962; Subject: Reference Minute 4 on Page 234” (Burma Camp, Accra, May 3, 1962), RG 14/4/506 Ghana Military Academy; document 235, PRAAD; “Message from the Principal Secretary, Ministry of Foreign Affiairs (Accra) to the Principle Secretary, Ministry of Defense (Accra); August 14, 1962; Subject: Gift of Books to the Ghana Militayr Academy By the Army of the Soviet Union” (Burma Camp, Accra, August 14, 1962), RG 14/4/506 Ghana Military Academy; document 237 (approximately--damaged), PRAAD; A. A. Adusei, “Message from the Principal Secretary, Ministry of Defense (Accra) to the Principle Secretary, Ministry of Foreign Affairs (Accra); October 4, 1962; Subject: Gift of Books to the Ghana Militayr Academy By the Army of the Soviet Union” (Burma Camp, Accra, October 4, 1962), RG 14/4/506 Ghana Military Academy; document 274, PRAAD; “Message from the Principal Secretary, Ministry of Foreign Affiairs (Accra) to the Principle Secretary, Ministry of Defense (Accra); November 1, 1962; Subject: Gift of Books to the Ghana Militayr Academy By the Army of the Soviet Union” (Burma Camp, Accra, November 1, 1962), RG 14/4/506 Ghana Military Academy; document 284, PRAAD. 13 “Message from the Principal Secretary, Ministry of Foreign Affiairs (Accra) to the Principle Secretary, Ministry of Defense (Accra); November 1, 1962; Subject: Gift of Books to the Ghana Militayr Academy By the Army of the Soviet Union.” 94 Ghana. Political and military leaders in Ghana, the United States, and elsewhere publicly affirmed a faith in international military cooperation, especially in exchanges of education and training, to transcend or smooth the coarse diplomatic relationship between the states. Those exchanges never fully escaped their political context, but they routinely appealed to non-political or transnational ideals of modernity through civil-military relationships that elites of both states accessed for their separate purposes. From their earliest attempts to strengthen functioning national bureaucracies after independence in 1957, leaders in Ghana’s government and Armed Forces integrated international assistance in the form of financial aid, opportunities for education and training abroad, and outside investment in Ghana—both economic and in human resources.14 The source of that international assistance indicated broad trends in Ghanaian Cold War alignment, to some extent, but also reflected internal competition between factions of the Ghanaian state.15 Before his ouster in 1966, President Kwame Nkrumah tried to balance the legacy of British organization and training in the Army by accepting training and equipment from Eastern Europe and the Soviet Union.16 He did so partly to assert Ghanaian non-alignment and exert diplomatic leverage against both blocs, partly to weaken the ideological coherence of a military he suspected was plotting his overthrow, and partly to finance his own personal President’s Own Guard Regiment.17 But Nkrumah and his successors never questioned the importance of maintaining at least a token national military, so they also consumed international military assistance because Ghana largely lacked the capacity to produce and cultivate personnel capable of performing military tasks.18 14 Kwame Nkrumah, The Autobiography of Kwame Nkrumah (London: Panaf, 1973), 136; “Ghana Asks ‘Bold’ Western Aid,” New York Times (1923-Current File), July 6, 1960; Apter, The Gold Coast in Transition Re- published in 1963 as “Ghana in Transition,” with new editions in 1968 and 1972. Baynham, The Military and Politics in Nkrumah’s Ghana. 15 Baynham, The Military and Politics in Nkrumah’s Ghana. 16 H. T. Alexander, African Tightrope: My Two Years as Nkrumah’s Chief of Staff (London: Pall Mall, 1965). 17 Baynham, The Military and Politics in Nkrumah’s Ghana; Addae, A Short History of Ghana Armed Forces, 134, 144; Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 98. 18 Addae, A Short History of Ghana Armed Forces, 170–186. 95 Ghana was never simply a client for international military aid. Ghanaian officers did receive commissioning training and staff college training in a half dozen countries after 1957, but the very same professional training Ghanaians received at military schools abroad, Nkrumah and his successors also exported to other African states. Nkrumah seized the opportunity to provide troops and support for United Nations operations in the Congo within days of the crisis, and maintained his commitment to the mission despite widespread condemnation from other African leaders.19 Even during periods when Ghana struggled to “feed itself,” Ghanaian leaders considered Ghana’s capacity to export military expertise central to their pan-African vision for collective security.20 Other African states sent cadets to Ghana’s military academy within three years of its opening in 1961 and to Ghana’s staff college in just the second year of its existence.21 This chapter argues that for Ghanaians, just as for Americans, the social value of lessons in military leadership, management of modern state institutions, and the vague category of professionalism transcended the national location where those lessons occurred. Ghanaian politicians and military officers—who were sometimes the same—widely and readily re- interpreted international discourses on civil-military relationships to devise their own understanding of how international military resources could serve Ghana’s national interests. They consumed those lessons from a wide variety of education and training facilities abroad, with a broad tolerance for the political legitimacy of the sponsoring states. Likewise, as soon as it attained an institutional capacity to do so, Ghana re-transmitted those same lessons to personnel from other African militaries—also with a considerable tolerance for the uncertain legitimacy of 19 Ama Biney, The Political and Social Thought of Kwame Nkrumah (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2011), 143; Apter, Ghana In Transition, 385; Alexander, African Tightrope: My Two Years as Nkrumah’s Chief of Staff, chap. 4. 20 Embassy of Ghana, “Ghana To Be Self-Sufficient by 1977 - Acheampong,” Ghana News, Vol 6 No 18/74 1974, October 15, 1974, 7; Pte David Gamor, “OFY ... Big Plan for Military,” Ghana Armed Forces News, August 31, 1974, GAF DPR; Eben Quarcoo, “OFY [Operation Feed Yourself] Grips Forces,” Ghana Armed Forces News, February 15, 1975; Embassy of Ghana, “Apartheid in South Africa: Dr. Busia Calls for Additional Methods,” Ghana News, February 1971. 21 The Research and Development Department, ed., Ghana Armed Forces Staff College: An Historical Perspective (Accra: Jamieson’s Cambridge Faxbooks, 1996), 1. 96 recipient regimes. Just as the Americans did, Ghanaians acknowledged a wide range of political configurations among partners in international military education and training because they believed the program itself was the mechanism to bring democracy, justice, and even legitimacy to new states. Later chapters will show that the sub-national and corporate benefits that flowed from international education made individual Ghanaians and their families reluctant to condemn sponsoring states’ political or social virtue. For three decades after 1960, the United States maintained a small international military education and training exchange with Ghana that generated a disproportionately large portion of the rhetoric behind American assistance policy to Ghana. It was the only military assistance the United States provided to Ghana, despite occasional assurances that the U.S. considered Ghana an essential, yet undeveloped, potential ally in Africa.22 Continuously since the early 1960s, American policymakers expected the small military education and training program there to yield long-term American influence, with great potential for future results. The rise of Ghanaian Colonel Ignatius Acheampong in 1972 should have represented a crowning achievement of American military education, but instead he demonstrated its potential downside.23 Acheampong was a Command and General Staff College graduate, and precisely the sort of ascendant military officer the American program proposed to educate, but when he overthrew Ghana’s second republic, the U.S. mostly disregarded his American education.24 Acheampong showed that for 22 National Security Council, “245. Ghana: Assessment Since Volta; June 13, 1962,” in Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961-1963, vol. XXI Africa (Washington: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 375–77; NSC Interdepartmental Group for Africa, “Secret Ghana Policy Planning Paper by NSC Interdepartmental Group for Africa, May 1971,” Report (Washington, DC, May 1971), RG 59 SNF 1970-1973; Box 2325, folder POL 1 Ghana- US 10/15/70, NACP; United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1981, 277. 23 Valerie Plave Bennett, “The Motivation for Military Intervention: The Case of Ghana,” The Western Political Quarterly 26, no. 4 (December 1, 1973): 659–74; Dennis Austin and Robin Luckham, eds., Politicians and Soldiers in Ghana, 1966-1972, Studies in Commonwealth Politics and History 3 (London: Cass, 1975). 24 Bennett, “The Motivation for Military Intervention”; Naomi Chazan, An Anatomy of Ghanaian Politics: Managing Political Recession, 1969-1982, Westview Special Studies on Africa (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1983). 97 the U.S., Military Internationalism worked best in the abstract. Ghanaians never rejected American grants for military education abroad, but they responded to the limited opportunities for such training in the 1970s by building their own staff college and accepting officers from other African states there. The Armed Forces’ effort to “Ghanaianize” the staff college demonstrated the fluidity of roles between consumer of international military education and provider. By the late 1980s, a Ugandan military officer attending the Ghana Armed Forces Command and Staff College likened the college’s annual journal to a mouthpiece for African independence from “The Colonised Mind.”25 By then, Ghana continued to accept grant aid to send promising military officers to staff colleges around the world, but through its own staff college offered professional education and training that Major Tumukunde of Uganda equated with “surviving on our own,” as the “proper utilization of the natural and human resources within our countries.”26 The irony was that little of the Ghana Armed Forces Staff College was exclusively African. But Military Internationalism could bind Ugandan officers to ideal African communities just as easily as it bound Ghanaian officers and American communities. Training and Education, Integration and Isolation; U.S. Assistance Policy to Ghana before 1966 Ghana epitomized most of the preoccupations, ambitions, and limitations of American foreign policy with respect to decolonizing Africa in the early 1960s, and sponsoring education and training for Ghanaian military personnel represented the standard American military assistance program accompaniment. Proxy battles between the superpowers in the Third World 25 Benon Tumukunde, “Inside a ‘Colonised Mind,’” The Flame: The Magazine of the GAFCSC, August 1989, 70– 72, GAFCSC Library; See Ngugi wa Thiongo, Decolonising the Mind: The Politics of Language in African Literature (London: J. Currey, 1986). 26 Tumukunde, “Inside a ‘Colonised Mind,’” 72. 98 may have been the Cold War’s main event and not an afterthought, as Odd Arne Westad argues, but lingering colonial influences complicated both American and Soviet neo-colonial strategies for engaging newly independent states.27 Leaders of African states resisted the hegemony of the Cold War powers as strenuously as they battled colonialism, and American foreign policymakers knew it.28 Ongoing deference to colonial powers limited the United States’ relationship with new states, making it “triangular,” while at the same time opening a “window of vulnerability” for the Soviet Union to attack continued Western hegemony over the Third World.29 Therefore, as Walt W. Rostow recalled, “The essential gamble of the United States in the developing world of the 1960s was on the ultimate strength of the determination of nations to maintain their independence.”30 Ghana provided modernization theorists an opportunity to test whether they could assist newly decolonized nations’ development without threatening their independence. American economic assistance to Ghana in the early 1960s revolved around the Volta River project: a massive dam, hydro power plant, and bauxite-aluminum processing plant, built by a consortium of American manufacturers under the Kaiser Aluminum Company and financed largely through U.S. government-backed loans.31 By most accounts, the dam was a massive modernization success story, providing Ghana fresh water and enough surplus electricity to export to neighbors since 1966.32 But throughout 1961, fear that Nkrumah would nationalize the dam and aluminum 27 Westad, The Global Cold War, 5; Elizabeth Cobbs Hoffman, “Diplomatic History and the Meaning of Life: Toward a Global American History,” Diplomatic History 21, no. 4 (1997): 79; Painter, “Explaining U.S. Relations with the Third World,” 533. 28 Schmidt, “Nkrumah Confers At White House; Backs U.N. Effort”; Rostow, The Diffusion of Power: An Essay in Recent History, 201–203; Kwame Nkrumah, I Speak of Freedom: A Statement of African Ideology (London: Heinemann, 1961); Kwame Nkrumah, Africa Must Unite, New ed. (New York: International Publishers, 1970); Bundy, “239. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa”; Kennedy, “242. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa.” 29 Painter, “Explaining U.S. Relations with the Third World,” 533–535. 30 Rostow, The Diffusion of Power: An Essay in Recent History, 2013. 31 Muehlenbeck, Betting on the Africans, chap. 4. 32 Mazower, Governing the World, 296; The verdict is still out on the long-term environmental consequences. See P. Gyau-Boakye, “Environmental Impacts of the Akosombo Dam and Effects of Climate Change on the Lake Levels,” Environment, Development and Sustainability 3, no. 1 (2001): 17. 99 industry and fear of repeating Eisenhower’s blunder of reneging on a promise to fund the Aswan Dam in Egypt caused President Kennedy and his advisors to vacillate over extending government insurance for Kaiser’s investment.33 By September, Kennedy privately decided to abandon the plan, and that “he had given up” on Nkrumah, “as bad as he’s been in Belgrade, as well as his desire to send 400 soldiers to Russia.”34 But with the help of Secretary of State Rusk and Under Secretary of State Ball, who feared that governments across Africa would accuse the U.S. of applying “political strings” to aid that were “indifferent to Africa’s development needs,” and that “refusal to go forward here were be misunderstood all over Africa,” Kennedy changed his mind.35 Fear that the Soviet Union would take over the project, Kennedy’s claim to have deep personal relationships with so many African nationalist leaders (including Nkrumah), and fear that Nkrumah would expel the first group of Peace Corps volunteers he had welcomed with great fanfare earlier in the summer convinced Kennedy to finance the dam.36 Most of all, Rostow recalled, Ghana “provided an occasion to test and explore the complexities of the doctrine that long run rather than a short run American political interests should guide aid allocations.”37 In 33 Walt W. Rostow, “235. Memorandum from the President’s Deputy Special Assistant for National Security Affairs (Rostow) to President Kennedy; Subject: The Volta Project; October 2, 1961,” in Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961-1963, vol. XXI Africa (Washington: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 359; Penfield, “223. Memorandum from the Deputy Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs (Penfield) to the Under Secretary of State (Bowles); Feb. 17, 1961; Subject: The Volta River and Related Projects,” in Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961- 1963, vol. XXI Africa (Washington: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 341–342; Dean Rusk, “236. Telegram From the Department of State to the Embassy in Chad; October 10, 1961,” in Foreign Relations of the United States, 1961- 1963, vol. XXI Africa (Washington: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 360–61; “Ghana Dam Explosive Threat in West Africa: Parallel to Egypt’s Aswan Dam Seen as U.S. Reviews Plans to Finance Project,” Los Angeles Times (1923- Current File), October 26, 1961; Richard D. Mahoney, JFK: Ordeal in Africa (New York: Oxford University Press, 1983), 173. 34 “232. Kennedy to Ball; FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa,” 355. 35 Rusk, “236. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa”; Bundy, “239. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa”; Bundy, “240. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa,” 369; Kennedy, “242. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa,” 372. 36 Cobbs, “Decolonization, the Cold War, and the Foreign Policy of the Peace Corps”; Muehlenbeck, Betting on the Africans; Bundy, “239. FRUS 1961-1963 Vol. XXI Africa”; Meriwether also argues that Kennedy substituted aggressive African diplomacy for legitimate leadership in domestic Civil Rights issues. Meriwether, “‘Worth a Lot of Negro Votes.’” 37 Rostow, The Diffusion of Power: An Essay in Recent History, 200. 100 Ghana in 1961, modernization theorists prevailed, supporting a long-term development program that integrated private industry, government subsidies, and high-profile technological projects with modernization ideology, underwritten by faith in its power to knit psychological allegiance with the United States to a massive infrastructural project. The Volta dam also represented a point of intersection between the parallel tracks of decolonization and the Cold War. All aspects of American economic, political, and cultural diplomacy interacted in this decision. It involved social scientists and policymakers in capital cities, but also American Peace Corps volunteers in rural Ghana, Ghanaian army cadets in the Soviet Union, industrialists, and diplomats across Africa and Asia. The dam represented a high-profile example of American development in Ghana, but behind that major project, we find the intersection of several other currents of American foreign policy with Ghana. Whether the United States should provide military assistance to Ghana was one such current. In the spring of 1963, the Office of the Director of Military Assistance within the U.S. Department of Defense drafted a five-year plan providing the rationale, objectives, and details for the United States’ military assistance policy to Ghana. The plan acknowledged that the United States was just one among several states from which the Ghanaian government sought economic or military assistance. While the U.S. recognized Ghana’s ongoing military relationship with the United Kingdom, American policymakers also perceived that the non- aligned Ghanaian government carefully considered the ideological implications of any military assistance it received in order to maintain its anticolonial, non-aligned reputation. Therefore, the United States selected a military assistance policy that deferred to the United Kingdom and Canada to assist with training Ghanaian officers in Ghana, but would augment via grant aid advanced or specialized military education and training in the United States. 101 The United States military assistance plan for Ghana in the early 1960s typified the new faith, inspired by modernization theory, that a small international military education and training program could yield great improvements in any contested state’s political and economic development, augment or eventually replace the former colonial power’s influence, and secure new states’ long-term ideological orientation to the West. The U.S. Defense Department’s Office of the Director of Military Assistance drafted the five-year plan for Ghana in 1962, which predicted great national benefits from a small investment. Following guidance from Kennedy’s Policy Planning Staff for non-NATO recipients with “no demonstrable military requirements for assistance,” the American plan recommended using as little military assistance as possible, applied “primarily for the achievement of political purposes.”38 It sought to supplement, rather than supplant, British and Canadian military assistance efforts in Ghana, to assist in “civic actions projects which will contribute to social and economic development,” prevent or limit Soviet “bloc penetration” in Ghana, and foster an “anti-Communist, Western oriented military community.”39 “The British and Canadian governments have primary responsibility for providing military assistance to the Ghana Armed Forces,” the plan acknowledged, therefore U.S. policy would be limited to training Ghanaian personnel at service schools in the United States, which the Ghanaian government eagerly accepted in the past.40 These objectives, and the specific programs the United States employed to achieve them, reveal that American policymakers understood the U.K.’s ongoing, but declining, influence in its former colonies, and Ghana’s tense relationship with its former colonizer. In the educational exchange program they advocated, the Americans also revealed faith in the ability of 38 Webb, “FRUS 1961-1963 Vol IX,” 191; Office of the Director of Military Assistance, OASD (IS), “Military Assistance Plan: Ghana (Secret)” (NACP, July 15, 1963), A1, RG 330; Accession Number UD/WW 241, Box 14; Folder “Ghana Five Year Military Assistance Plans 1965-1969,” NACP. 39 Office of the Director of Military Assistance, OASD (IS), “Military Assistance Plan: Ghana (Secret),” A1. 40 Ibid., D2–D3. 102 international military education and training to create significant psychological effects, which they assumed would bring about Ghana’s grand, national, strategic re-alignment toward the United States. What is most interesting is that American planners assumed that the programs that would achieve these results required little administrative oversight. Their results would flow naturally from the nature of the experience of international education and training itself. American planners in 1962 considered military assistance from Canada an acceptable proxy for American or British support, but integrating the three nations’ programs in Ghana also revealed the problem of finding the proper balance for American intervention versus deference to former colonizers in Africa.41 Some American attempts at assertiveness were just clumsy, as in March 1962 when the State Department proposed a sweeping scholarship plan in the United States for military elites from across West Africa. The French Secretary of State for African- Levant Affairs Jean Sauvagnargues ridiculed the idea.42 “To train a few NCOs and junior officers in American methods and then to expect them to fit well in their own small local forces which have received French training (“formation”) does not make sense,” he told U.S. Ambassador James Gavin.43 “There are many fields in Africa where American aid and training [are] badly needed,” he informed Garvin, “military training is not one of them.”44 On one hand, Sauvagnargues’ colorful and vehement opposition to the American proposal reveals one aspect of the complicated “triangular” relationship between American, European, and African states at this time.45 It also reveals another instance where American planners expressed faith in the universal modernizing power of educating and training elites from the global South. The concept 41 Kolko, Confronting the Third World, 111 I argue that the U.S. did not defer to the colonial power, so much as incorporate the colonial power in its own strategy, when the results seemed promising. See also, Painter, “Explaining U.S. Relations with the Third World.” 42 James M. Gavin, “Confidential Telegram from James M. Gavin, American Ambassador to France to Secretary of State; Number 4551, March 28 1962.,” March 28, 1962, RG 59 CDF 1960-1963; Box 1482; Folder: 711.55341/1- 2260; Document 711.55370/3-2862, NACP. 43 Ibid. 44 Ibid. 45 Painter, “Explaining U.S. Relations with the Third World,” 533. 103 was of joint State-Defense Department origin; it intended to engage a wide variety of African nations despite language difficulties; it assumed that military education in the West could impart lessons or an identity that greatly outweighed any differences in national tactical or organizational models; and it represented American faith that the education of a few individuals abroad could transform vast segments of African society. These assumptions comprise several aspects of the state-endorsed version of Military Internationalism the U.S. applied with more tangible results in Ghana. The Africa-wide training proposal went nowhere, but the U.S. Director of Military Assistance made training and education the cornerstone of American assistance policy with Ghana in 1962. The U.S. plan deferred “primary responsibility for providing military assistance to the Ghana Armed Forces” to the British and Canadian governments and “deliberately restricted” the U.S. program to “training Ghanaian officers and enlisted personnel” in service schools in the United States.46 But while the United States’ strategy incorporated British and Canadian participation, the Americans were also readily prepared to supplement their efforts when British, Canadian, or Ghanaian resources ran short. They had once already, in March, 1962, when “Ghana was forced to cancel a sizable number of officers and enlisted men from attending courses of training in foreign countries other than the US due to lack of funds.”47 Offering military education gave the U.S. a method to enlarge its participation in the “triangular” relationship without directly interfering in the former colony. The United States’ appraisal of Ghana’s foreign policy objectives and domestic politics also encouraged the military assistance plan based on foreign training alone. In 1963-1964, the Defense Department projected military expenditures of $40.7 million to absorb eleven percent of 46 Office of the Director of Military Assistance, OASD (IS), “Military Assistance Plan: Ghana (Secret),” D2. 47 Ibid., C1. 104 Ghana’s national budget.48 American planners expected Ghana’s economy to be unable to support Nkrumah’s desire to expand the Armed Forces to include a jet fighter squadron, an additional artillery regiment, and new warships.49 Even though American planners expected the Soviet bloc to continue offering equipment and training to Ghana, the U.S. refused to sell or loan expensive or complicated military equipment. “Since arms and equipment for the military must be considered non-productive in nature,” the plan stated, “insistence on such purchases will inevitably detract from Ghana’s ability to further general economic development.”50 Too large a military assistance program “would be embarrassing to the Ghana Government since its propaganda, with respect to the U.S. position in the NATO Alliance and its attempts to label the U.S. as ‘Neo-Colonialist’ in its relations with emerging African countries, would be hypocritical and ineffective.”51 Despite “some expressed uneasiness on the part of left-wing elements in the Government who feel that the Ghanaians involved are being subverted in the U.S. while in training,” Ghana “eagerly accepted” American grants for training in the U.S.52 The Director of Military Assistance staff weighed Cold War competition over Ghana, lingering British influence there, and the harmful effects of militarizing Ghana’s economy, and they reaffirmed international education and training as the most effective and cost effective path for American security assistance to Ghana. American planners understood how damaging dependence on foreign suppliers for military equipment and arms transfers could be, but they placed great faith in the psychological potential of their alternatives to technical military assistance. The American program fostered “a spirit of Western oriented democratic attitudes in the military forces of the newly emerging 48 In U.S. dollar equivalents. Ibid., J1. 49 Ibid., D1. 50 Ibid., D2. 51 Ibid., D3. 52 Ibid. 105 nations in Africa.”53 To the U.S., “the Ghana Armed Forces are considered apolitical,” but when the twenty-one Ghanaians who attended courses in the U.S. between 1962 and 1963 returned to Ghana, they came back “enthusiastic about U.S. military training techniques, facilities, amenities, arms, equipment, technical skills, etc.”54 Even more, they developed “an appreciation for the abundant life of Americans.”55 “This enthusiasm has spread throughout the Ghana Armed Forces,” the assistance plan projected, and “the result has been a marked friendliness and eagerness for information about the U.S. military affairs and American life on the part of the personnel of the Ghana Armed Forces.”56 New initiatives in the American military assistance program—which became the Informational Program later in 1963—promised that “visits to such places as American homes, local industries, industrial and cultural exhibits, country and state fairs, places of historical interest, and sporting events, will be effective in fostering goodwill and, acquainting the individual with American culture.”57 American planners were convinced that this “surprising enthusiasm” was responsible for the fear that those “left-wing elements” in the Ghanaian government had that Ghanaians were “being subverted in the U.S.”58 The 1963 American military assistance plan for Ghana plan bonded modernization theory’s assumptions about the transformative potential of intervention among news states’ elites to American military assistance policy in Africa. The plan proposed no equipment sales, recommended sending no military assistance teams, nor sponsoring any civic action projects within Ghana. It advocated only “providing technical and administrative training of such a nature as not to materially increase the combat effectiveness of the Ghana Army or generate requests 53 Office of the Director of Military Assistance, OASD (IS), “Military Assistance Plan Draft: Ghana (Secret)” (NACP, April 11, 1963), 7, RG 330; Accession Number UD/WW 241, Box 14; Folder “Ghana Five Year Military Assistance Plans 1965-1969,” NACP. 54 Office of the Director of Military Assistance, OASD (IS), “Military Assistance Plan: Ghana (Secret),” C1. 55 Ibid., C1. 56 Ibid. 57 Office of the Director of Military Assistance, OASD (IS), “Military Assistance Plan Draft: Ghana (Secret),” 7. 58 Office of the Director of Military Assistance, OASD (IS), “Military Assistance Plan: Ghana (Secret),” D3. 106 for U.S. equipment.”59 Grant-based training aid for Ghana fit within the United States’ larger Military Assistance Plan in 1963, which supported “any action on the part of the US that might influence [an] individual or group of individuals to a better understanding of the basic precepts and culture of the American system.”60 The U.S. planned to provide between $140,000 and $160,000 in grants, which would enable twelve to fifteen Ghanaian military personnel to receive training or education in the United States each year.61 American planners assumed this level of support sufficient to help create “a well-trained, experienced and disciplined Officer and Non- Commissioned Officer Corps,” to “foster a spirit of Western oriented democratic attitudes,” and to “counter unfriendly or hostile propaganda” emanating from the Soviet bloc.62 The plan considered military assistance a multinational endeavor. It acknowledged the primacy of the Commonwealth in specific assistance programs, but also incorporated the variety of national influences over individual Ghanaian trainees within a larger perspective that encompassed all international encounters as equally influential, and equally valid, toward transforming the Ghanaian armed forces into a modern institution within a modernizing state. This plan acknowledged the United States’ limited immediate influence in Ghana, but also revealed great confidence in the long-term, non-specific value of Military Internationalism to reap strategic benefits. The United States’ assistance plan for Ghana also expressed precisely the political, psychological, and economic rationale for the international military training and education program that became the centerpiece of American policy toward sub-Saharan Africa in general, and Ghana in particular. American military assistance planners were almost delusional about the positive influence of a visit to the U.S., even suggesting that the United States should 59 Ibid., G1. 60 Office of the Director of Military Assistance, OASD (IS), “Military Assistance Plan Draft: Ghana (Secret),” 7. 61 Office of the Director of Military Assistance, OASD (IS), “Military Assistance Plan: Ghana (Secret),” G1, L2 . 62 Office of the Director of Military Assistance, OASD (IS), “Military Assistance Plan Draft: Ghana (Secret),” sec. 3. 107 restrain itself to keep the Ghana government from having to counter America’s rapidly expanding influence with Soviet interference. By 1963, the United States’ military assistance program had evolved, acknowledging that the greatest benefit of these visits to the United States came not from the military training itself, but through the psychological and social transformation encouraged through the Informational Program. Finally, with complete faith in the political windfall of these psychological effects, the U.S. created an enduring mold for American military assistance policy to Ghana that would last a quarter century. Ghanaian Nationalism, Pan-Africanism, and Military Internationalism in the early 1960s In the early 1960s, both British-educated Ghanaian military leaders and Pan-Africanist, anti-colonial politicians under Kwame Nkrumah already incorporated international political, economic, military, and cultural resources for their own benefit. When integrating Ghana into their larger security and development objectives in Africa, American diplomats and military assistance planners merely tapped in to lively, preexisting discourses over the relationship between Ghana’s President, military hierarchy, the extensive use of training programs from foreign countries for Ghanaian personnel, and the presence of foreign military training professionals in Ghana. These churning local and international influences complicated even the most capacious understanding of post-colonial nationalism in Ghana. To the extent that so many contemporary standards for military organization and training had non-African—often colonial—origins, we expect to find the Ghana Armed Forces seeking equipment and assistance from abroad. But from the earliest days of independence, competing Ghanaian political and military leaders alike employed internationally-developed descriptions of professionalism and loyalty to frame their own discourses on the nature of African self-reliance and the duty of the national military in dangerous political times. 108 Just as American policymakers did, Ghanaian leaders assumed professional military training created common, universal products. Elites in both states expected that the ideals of professionalism, service, deference to civilian rule, and loyalty to result regardless of the national origin of the training. Speaking at the Ghana Military Academy, Nkrumah praised loyalty above other martial virtues, but he and the British-trained Army brass who increasingly opposed him had different ideas about which part of the Ghanaian state that loyalty should adhere. Both approached the Ghanaian nation with different definitions, which gave the specifically international programs they both depended on to expand and mature Ghana’s young military different ideological significance. The 1966 coup that deposed Nkrumah was, in one sense, a culmination of the tension between powerful domestic political blocs whose own vision for the nation could only be realized through extraordinary international intervention and assistance. In this conflict, the international and the local interacted directly, often at the expense of the national. The epidemic of African coups in the mid-1960s set off waves of scholarship in the West attempting to explain the military’s ascendency among competing domestic factions in post- colonial Africa.63 After Ghana’s coup in February, 1966 scholars plumbed the relationships between the charismatic Nkrumah and his ethnically disunited state, or the Western-oriented military and Nkrumah’s socialist Convention People’s Party, or the struggle between ex-colonial and neo-colonial powers and new states in Africa.64 In their memoirs, which followed shortly 63 Keith Hopkins, “Civil-Military Relations in Developing Countries,” The British Journal of Sociology 17, no. 2 (June 1, 1966): 165–82; Gutteridge, Military Institutions and Power in the New States; William F. Gutteridge, “The Political Role of African Armed Forces: The Impact of Foreign Military Assistance,” African Affairs 66, no. 263 (April 1, 1967): 93–103; Raymond A. Moore, “The Peaceful Uses of Military Forces in Underdeveloped Areas: A Review Essay,” The Journal of Developing Areas 4, no. 1 (October 1, 1969): 112–19; Claude E. Welch, ed., Soldier and State in Africa: A Comparative Analysis of Military Intervention and Political Change (Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 1970); Ernest W Lefever, Spear and Scepter; Army, Police, and Politics in Tropical Africa (Washington: Brookings Institution, 1970). 64 “Nkrumah as charismatic leader” was not a new trope in 1966. See Lionel Tiger, “Nkrumah’s Ghana and the Theory of Charisma,” Bulletin of African Studies in Canada / Bulletin Des Études Africaines Au Canada 2, no. 1 (November 1, 1964): 2–10; See also David E. Apter, “Nkrumah, Charisma, and the Coup,” Daedalus 97, no. 3 (July 109 after the coup, both Nkrumah and the military officers who overthrew him described the events leading to the coup in terms of national honor, or in pan-African terms, or in terms of economic or political independence from either Western or Eastern ideological blocs.65 Although some scholars suggested examining the sociology of the armed forces, rather than the national origin of its training, as the most important determinant of military behavior, in most of these accounts, the modern, independent nation-state reigned as the ideal political, economic, and cultural form, against which Ghana’s experience with personal rule and military rule only deviated.66 Despite modernization theorists in the United States’ early hope that Military Internationalism had the power to create the ideal, modern nation, in Ghana only disappointment resulted. Only in the long view did Military Internationalism offer promise as a corporate or national, and not just individual, identity. For its part, the Ghanaian government recognized that military assistance, like all other forms of international cooperation, could serve its own national objectives for non-alignment and development. The post-colonial context of international competition and Ghana’s own limited resources restricted its options to consume this assistance however. Before 1966, Ghana under Nkrumah attempted to balance American and Soviet offers of military assistance with Ghana’s prior and ongoing attachment to the Commonwealth for military organization and training. Ghana also attempted to engage military expertise from India, Yugoslavia, and Israel while aggressively committing Ghana’s military to U.N. operations in the Congo, as Nkrumah hoped to 1, 1968): 757–92; especially Jon Kraus, “Arms and Politics in Ghana,” in Soldier and State in Africa: A Comparative Analysis of Military Intervention and Political Change, ed. Claude E. Welch (Evanston, IL: Northwestern University Press, 1970), 154–223; Price, “A Theoretical Approach to Military Rule in New States”; Price, “Military Officers and Political Leadership”; Selwyn Ryan, “The Theory and Practice of African One Partyism: The CPP Re-Examined,” Canadian Journal of African Studies / Revue Canadienne Des Études Africaines 4, no. 2 (April 1, 1970): 145–72. 65 Kwame Nkrumah, Dark Days in Ghana (London: Panaf, 1968); Nkrumah, Africa Must Unite; Kwame Nkrumah, Class Struggle in Africa, 1st ed. (New York: International Publishers, 1970); Nkrumah, Revolutionary Path; Afrifa, The Ghana Coup, 24th February 1966; A. K. Ocran, Politics of the Sword: A Personal Memoir on Military Involvement in Ghana and of Problems of Military Government (London: Rex Collings, 1977). 66 Gutteridge, “The Political Role of African Armed Forces: The Impact of Foreign Military Assistance,” 96. 110 balance Ghana’s non-aligned image with his own pan-African ambition. In Nkrumah’s foreign policy, nationalism and internationalism merged. Although officers comprised only ten percent of the Ghanaian military after independence, all of Ghana’s competing political factions considered recruiting, training, and promoting officers the most important aspect of creating Ghana’s national army, and one that Ghana could not perform without international assistance.67 Nkrumah sought to expand the armed forces from 4,000 to 7,000 by 1961, to 14,600 by 1966, and to create a separate air force and navy.68 In 1960, he unilaterally claimed for Ghana authority over the United Nations mission to the Congo.69 Most importantly, he sought to “Ghanaianize” the Armed Forces, to eliminate its dependence on British officers who were “seconded” (serving on loan) to the Ghanaian Army, and to place senior Ghanaian officers in positions of command. A shortage of Ghanaian officers complicated this plan. The British had created only twenty-eight Ghanaian officers between 1953 and 1957. Most graduated from military academies around the commonwealth, after a short preparatory course for prospective officer cadets at the British-run Regular Officer Special Training Schools facility in Teshie, near Accra.70 All but one had first been enlisted soldiers in the colonial army; this both a symptom and cause of the low esteem potential elites held for 67 Numbers of officers from Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 119; “The Charter of the Ghana Military Academy; Appx II to Annex D to GA/569/1/0 (SD); August 26, 1959” (Accra, Ghana, August 26, 1959), RG 14/4/504 Ghana Military Academy; Document: Formation of Ghana Army Training Establishment, PRAAD; Lt Col A. M. Gilmour, “Memorandum from Lt Col A. M. Gilmour, Chief of the General Staff, Ghana Armed Forces to J. S. Annan, Permanent Secretary, Ministry of Foreign Affairs; Subject: Entry To GMA [Ghana Military Academy]” (Ministry of Defense, Giffard Camp, Accra, Ghana, January 30, 1960), RG 14/4/504 Ghana Military Academy; document 62, PRAAD; Addae, A Short History of Ghana Armed Forces, 125; Huntington, The Soldier and the State: The Theory and Politics of Civil-Military Relations, chap. 1; Alexander, African Tightrope: My Two Years as Nkrumah’s Chief of Staff, chap. 2. 68 Addae, A Short History of Ghana Armed Forces, 127; Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 119. 69 Nkrumah, Africa Must Unite; Alexander, African Tightrope: My Two Years as Nkrumah’s Chief of Staff, 33–49. 70 Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 192. ROSTS prepared officer candidates for training at European military schools. ; See also Baynham, The Military and Politics in Nkrumah’s Ghana, 32–64. 111 military service.71 At independence, however, there were no Ghanaian officers in the rank of Lieutenant Colonel or above.72 Nkrumah and the Ghanaian Ministry of Defense projected in 1959 that Ghana needed to train 180 more—thirty per year—by 1965.73 The Ghana Military Academy partially filled Ghana’s urgent needed to create Ghanaian military officers to replace British ones and to supervise the expansion of Ghana’s military, but even this national effort was extraordinarily international. The Ghana Military Academy relied heavily on foreign officers as instructors; meanwhile, Nkrumah also dreamed that it would also train officers from across post- colonial Africa. Producing Ghanaian officers was never simply a Ghanaian endeavor. By Nkrumah’s request, the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst’s Director of Staff, T. J. S. Anderson, visited Ghana in December 1959 and drafted the plan which guided the Ghana Military Academy’s creation.74 In April 1960, the Ghana Military Academy opened on the facilities of the former British-run training school in Teshie. To fill Ghana’s urgent need for military officers, the Ghana Military Academy would accept between twenty and forty cadet candidates for each 18-month course, beginning in April 1961.75 A groups of incoming cadets formed an “intake,” and Ghanaian officers have referred to themselves by military academy intake number ever since.76 71 That one was future Chief of Defense Staff Okai, who graduated from Sandhurst in 1955. Addae, A Short History of Ghana Armed Forces, 165–169; Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 112; Lawrence Adjei, Interview with Lt Gen Adjei, Audio recording, July 20, 2012, Author’s possession. 72 Addae, A Short History of Ghana Armed Forces, 104. 73 Gilmour, “Memorandum from Lt Col A. M. Gilmour, Chief of the General Staff, Ghana Armed Forces to J. S. Annan, Permanent Secretary, Ministry of Foreign Affairs; Subject: Entry To GMA [Ghana Military Academy]”; Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 113. 74 Gilmour’s memorandum is a cover sheet for the entire plan, attached in its entirety. Gilmour, “Memorandum from Lt Col A. M. Gilmour, Chief of the General Staff, Ghana Armed Forces to J. S. Annan, Permanent Secretary, Ministry of Foreign Affairs; Subject: Entry To GMA [Ghana Military Academy].” 75 The GMA projected to lose between 20-30% of each class due to attrition. “The Charter of the Ghana Military Academy; Appx II to Annex D to GA/569/1/0 (SD); August 26, 1959.” 76 For instance, Anyidoho refers to his comrades in “regular intake VIII”; Frimpong identifies the first female cadets by intake number; Oduro-Kwarteng identifies those in his intake who rose to prominent positions, as well as those in the intakes just prior to, and after his own. Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step, 34; Brig. Gen. Daniel Kwadjo Frimpong, Leadership and the Challenges of Command: The Ghana Military Academy Experience (Accra: Afram Publications, 2003), 49; Steve Oduro-Kwarteng, The Memoirs of a Colonel Retired (Accra, Ghana: Self-Published, 2009), 14. 112 According to Anderson’s initial plan, Ghana would still send five officer candidates per intake to the Sandhurst, and five cadets from each intake to other commissioning sources abroad, including India, Pakistan, Australia, and Canada.77 Ghana expected one third of the 180 officers produced between 1961 and 1965 to receive their commissions from a source outside Ghana. To Anderson, it was the combination of Ghanaian-trained officers and “the present arrangement of sending a number of officer cadets to overseas establishments each year” which offered “every prospect of building up a first-class corps of officers.”78 Even the value of the officer’s commission itself required international validation. Ghanaian officers feared that a military commission earned in eighteen months in Ghana might lack the prestige of a continental military commission. Practical considerations—specifically, Ghana’s urgent need for officers—dictated the choice of an eighteen-month course, but so short a course seemed also to require strict entry standards.79 An eighteen-month course “would produce worthwhile results provided that only candidates with the right sort of entry qualifications as well as the essential qualities of character and mind are accepted,” Anderson projected.80 He noted, “The course at the Ghana Military Academy will be notably shorter than those conducted in similar academies elsewhere,” including Sandhurst, the U.S. Military Academy (West Point), the Malayan Federated Military Academy, the Pakistan Military Academy, or the French, Canadian, or Australian academies.81 In his history of the Ghana Armed Forces, Stephen Kojo Addae suggests the “advantageous international character” of the Sandhurst diploma made local African training seem “parochial” by comparison.82 On the other 77 “The Charter of the Ghana Military Academy; Appx II to Annex D to GA/569/1/0 (SD); August 26, 1959.” 78 Gilmour, “Memorandum from Lt Col A. M. Gilmour, Chief of the General Staff, Ghana Armed Forces to J. S. Annan, Permanent Secretary, Ministry of Foreign Affairs; Subject: Entry To GMA [Ghana Military Academy].” 79 Ibid. 80 Ibid. 81 Ibid. 82 Addae, A Short History of Ghana Armed Forces, 91. 113 hand, Ghanaian officers who graduated from Sandhurst did not accept the “Queen’s commission” at ceremonies in England, and instead received a commission from Nkrumah upon returning to Ghana.83 Such a declaration of independence served several goals. Nkrumah and other pan- Africanists considered maintaining a core of African elites critical to validating their charges against the absurdity of racism that justified paternalist apologies for lingering colonialism.84 A national army was an essential ingredient for sovereignty, and Nkrumah’s ambition for African nations to liberate themselves depended on the capacity to create and maintain one.85 And as a leader among Non-Aligned states, Nkrumah’s ideology of “positive neutrality” from Cold War manipulation required the ability to resist “pacts and agreements” which drew small states into superpowers’ orbits.86 From its inception, however, the Ghana Military Academy struggled to hire Ghanaian instructors, and depended on international officers to fill essential training posts. As early as 1959, the Ministry of Defense asserted “the aim of Government policy to Ghanaianize the academy teaching services as soon as possible,” and requested the Ministry of Education to help find at least four suitable Ghanaian university graduates for the academy faculty prior to its April 1961 opening.87 Symptomatic of the low esteem of the military in Ghanaian society in 1959, the Ministry of Defense acknowledged difficulty finding four suitable candidates, and asked for an all-out effort to find at least one Ghanaian, who could “be closely associated with the 83 Ignatius Achel, Interview with Brigadier Achel, Audio recording, July 19, 2012, 3, Author’s possession. 84 Nkrumah, I Speak of Freedom: A Statement of African Ideology, 128; See also, Ryan M. Irwin, Gordian Knot: Apartheid and the Unmaking of the Liberal World Order, Oxford Studies in International History (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 32–39. 85 Nkrumah, I Speak of Freedom: A Statement of African Ideology, 211–222. 86 Ibid., 219. 87 Joseph S. Annan, “Memorandum from Joseph S.. Annan, Permanent Secretary, Ministry of Defense, to the Permanent Secretary, Ministry of Education and Information, September 24, 1959; Subject: Graduate Teachers for the Ghana Military Academy” (Ministry of Defense, Giffard Camp, Accra, Ghana, September 24, 1959), RG 14/4/504 Ghana Military Academy; Document: 10, PRAAD. 114 administration and formulation of policy in the early stages of the Academy.”88 Meanwhile, expatriate officers from the British Army served as instructors at the Ghana Military Academy until September 1961, when the Canadian Armed Forces Training Team, Ghana replaced them.89 From its inception and initial planning stages and throughout its early years in operation, the Ghana Military Academy employed international standards, international staff, and international methods to train officers in Ghana’s national army. “Ghanaianization” never implied self-sufficiency. Instead, Nkrumah and the Ministry of Defense concentrated on producing Ghanaian officers, whose very presence projected African authority, competence, and modernity by international standards. A new kind of modernity became the curriculum. For sixty years prior to Ghana’s independence, the Royal West African Frontier Force had applied European racial and cultural categories to identify “martial races” by ethnicity (Hausa from the North) and religion (Muslim) to seek specifically un-modern recruits.90 Colonial armies sought soldiers from traditional “tribal” areas in the northern Gold Coast and Asante, a type military historian David Killingray describes as “untouched by modern ideas of government or commerce, providing non-literate men who would be a clean slate upon which could be written new military codes of discipline and obedience.”91 The British considered the “over-educated” young men from the southern coast as “dangerous and possibly left-wing.”92 Paradoxically, European officers in colonial armies attempted to impose their own doctrines governing hygiene, gender roles, and nuclear 88 Ibid. 89 Christopher R. Kilford, The Other Cold War: Canada’s Military Assistance to the Developing World, 1945-1975 (Canadian Defence Academy Press, 2010), 103; Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 193. 90 Killingray, “Imagined Martial Communities: Recruiting for the Military and Police in Colonial Ghana, 1860- 1960,” 123; See also Parsons, The African Rank-and-File, chap. 3; Echenberg, Colonial Conscripts, 14. 91 Killingray, “Imagined Martial Communities: Recruiting for the Military and Police in Colonial Ghana, 1860- 1960,” 125. 92 Ibid., 129. 115 families within larger projects of “detribalizing” Africans through military discipline.93 Like other administrative structures, colonial armies rarely had the resources or will to follow through on their plans to reorder indigenes’ social life, however, so campaigns to regulate soldiers and their families’ bodies rarely turned out as planned.94 After independence, the remnant of British officers and Ghana’s own military and political leaders integrated a version of modernity into the Ghana Military Academy charter that more closely reflected the values of nationalist intelligentsias who bridged the colonial and post- colonial periods, including an emphasis on literacy, nationalism, and bureaucratic efficiency.95 The modern officer, the charter declared, had “a sound education in appropriate academic and military subjects [and] a wide interest in the current problems of world affairs.”96 The 18-month curriculum consisted of three academic terms, focusing on Military History, Mathematics, Science, and French. A fourth topic, “Modern Subjects,” was the only academic subject the charter recommended be included in each of the three academic terms. The aims of “Modern Subjects” were: “to promote and encourage the study of the Commonwealth and its relationship with the rest of the world in the 20th century;” “to develop the ability of the officer cadet to deal with ideas and to form considered judgment as part of a sound liberal education;” “to create and sustain his interest in human affairs and to help him to be aware of contemporary problems;” and to “develop his powers of self-expression both verbally and in writing.”97 “Modern Subjects” 93 Parsons, The African Rank-and-File, chap. 5; Echenberg, Colonial Conscripts; Killingray, “Imagined Martial Communities: Recruiting for the Military and Police in Colonial Ghana, 1860-1960,” 127; Gregory Mann, Native Sons: West African Veterans and France in the Twentieth Century (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2006). 94 Carolyn A. Brown, “A ‘Man’ in the Village Is a ‘Boy’ in the Workplace: Colonial Racism, Worker Militance, and Igbo Notions of Masculinity in the Nigerian Coal Industry, 1930-1945,” in Men and Masculinities in Modern Africa, ed. Lisa A. Lindsay and Stephan Miescher, Social History of Africa Series (Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann, 2003), 156–74; Frederick Cooper, “Industrial Man Goes to Africa,” in Men and Masculinities in Modern Africa, ed. Lisa A. Lindsay and Stephan Miescher, Social History of Africa Series (Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann, 2003), 128–38; Even Mehmed’s pseudo-modern Egyptian army attempted such bodily control, with poor results. Fahmy, All the Pasha’s Men, 221–235. 95 Anderson, Imagined Communities, 116–121. 96 “The Charter of the Ghana Military Academy; Appx II to Annex D to GA/569/1/0 (SD); August 26, 1959.” 97 Ibid.; By 1961 14 Ghanaian women served as officers (all nurses). The Ghana Military Academy did not accept women until 1964. Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 113. 116 would require cadets to develop “historical perspective, and the habit of clear thinking,” since the “ability to express thought in simple and direct language and on paper are to be regarded as of great importance than the pure academic knowledge.”98 What the British officers who prepared the charter assumed made Ghanaians into “Modern Subjects” closely matched the categories of psychological transformation American modernization theorists also articulated. This is not surprising, since ideologies of development and modernization had flowed easily across the Atlantic for a century.99 Nationalism, faithfulness to the Commonwealth, literacy in English, opinion-forming, and “clear thinking” resemble the “preconditions” Rostow and Lerner identified as essential for “traditional societies” to abandon.100 British officers’ prescriptions for insulating former colonies (or those Britain was considering granting independence) from communist insurgency matched American observations at the same time.101 Communism appealed to the “rootless” and “impatient” in colonies, Lucian Pye argued in Guerrilla Communism in Malaya ¸when efficient political and administrative forms failed to fill the vacuum left by weakened traditional social ties.102 “Modern Subjects” were a bundle of Western ones, and filling the gap in Ghanaian students’ understanding of modernity apparently required as much effort as correcting their 98 “The Charter of the Ghana Military Academy; Appx II to Annex D to GA/569/1/0 (SD); August 26, 1959”. Transcription closely matched to the original. 99 On language and nationalism, see Anderson, Imagined Communities, 133; Chinua Achebe, “English and the African Writer,” Transition, no. 18 (January 1, 1965): 27–30; On 20th century internationalism and transnationalism, see Daniel T Rodgers, Atlantic Crossings: Social Politics in a Progressive Age (Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1998); Gorman, The Emergence of International Society in the 1920s; Tyrrell, Reforming the World; Mazower, Governing the World; Ekbladh, The Great American Mission; Manela, The Wilsonian Moment; Andrew Zimmerman, Alabama in Africa: Booker T. Washington, the German Empire, and the Globalization of the New South (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2010); Christopher Endy, “Travel and World Power: Americans in Europe, 1890–1917,” Diplomatic History 22, no. 4 (2002): 565–94; Ninkovich, The Wilsonian Century; McCormick, America’s Half-Century. 100 Rostow, The Process of Economic Growth: A Non-Communist Manifesto, 4, 6; Lerner, The Passing of Traditional Society, 71, 86. 101 Pye, Guerrilla Communism in Malaya, Its Social and Political Meaning; Robert Grainger Ker Thompson, Defeating Communist Insurgency: Experiences from Malaya and Vietnam, Studies in International Security, no. 10 (London: Chatto & Windus, 1966). 102 Pye, Guerrilla Communism in Malaya, Its Social and Political Meaning, 8, 348, 354. 117 deficiencies in Mathematics, English, and Science combined.103 American Ambassador Russell was pleased with himself for donating books that offered Ghanaian cadets extra instruction in “modern civilization.”104 Including “Modern Subjects” in the charter of the Ghana Military Academy reveals some of the contest over who had the authority to define “modernity,” to assign legitimacy to knowledge, and to identify which characteristics of postcolonial nationhood were essential.105 Modern knowledge, Benedict Anderson suggests, furnished moral importance even to colonized populations, so even externally-derived military training might still serve nationalist ends by reinforcing the modernizing elite’s authority—either in the person of Nkrumah or the colonels who later overthrew him.106 To the extent that “Modern Subjects” looked like a template for creating a reliable postcolonial elite comfortable and conversant with former colonial structures, it portended the eventual struggle between the military and the fiercely anti- colonial Nkrumah over which versions of modernity and nationalism would survive in Ghana. When he sacked Major General Henry Templar Alexander, the last British officer to serve as Ghana’s Chief of Defense Staff, in September, 1961, Nkrumah symbolically abandoned the steady, incremental, improvement of Ghana’s military along the British model, but he did not abandon international sources of military training.107 “Ghanaianization” eliminated British officers, but retained the Canadian training staff. To Nkrumah, Ghanaianization was equally about creating a global or pan-African as well as Ghanaian image; retaining British Chiefs of Defense Staff before 1961 had been a case of choosing Ghana’s national interests, specifically, institutional coherence with the British model, over pan-African interests. When Nkrumah 103 see Cooper, Colonialism in Question, chap. 5. 104 See introduction to this chapter. Russell, “News Release by United States Embassy, Accra; September 11, 1961; Subject: Remarks of the American Ambassador Mr. Francis K. Russell at the Presentation of Books to the Ghana Military Academy.” 105 Anderson, Imagined Communities, 120, 126. 106 Ibid., 116, 120. 107 Aboagye argues that Briatain’s exceptionally poor rate of training officers mitigates against thinking Nkrumah too rash in sacking them. Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 116. 118 eventually sent seventy-five Ghanaian officer cadets to the Soviet Union for commissioning training in 1961, he was also attempting to balance a global, non-aligned agenda with his own domestic one. Alexander had strongly opposed Nkrumah’s plan to employ Soviet training on practical grounds, arguing that incompatible models of training, equipment, and operations would result. Alexander had said that same thing about the mixed Israeli and Indian program to train Ghanaian Air Force pilots in 1960, ultimately dismissing the Israelis and retaining the Indians because they followed a “Commonwealth” model.108 And while Nkrumah publicly aligned himself with the Soviet bloc in a number of ways, Ghana continued to accept military training and military equipment from NATO as well as Soviet sources. Both Nkrumah and the British-sympathizing senior Ghanaian officers who eventually overthrew him explicitly accepted that any method of recruiting, training, and promoting officers in Ghana’s military would be an international effort. Foreign military academy staff produced syllabi for Ghanaian use; foreign officers taught at Ghana’s Military Academy until Ghanaians could be found; Ghanaian cadets would travel to any service academy which would accept them; and, beginning with the first class of 29 Ugandan cadets to graduate from the Ghana Military Academy in 1965, Ghana’s own education and training apparatus would serve other African states as well.109 In Ghana, international education served competing uses, both of which were tangential toward building up the state, yet both upheld “loyalty” as a primary value. British-trained officers leaned heavily toward their martial traditions in the Commonwealth while Nkrumah sought to balance the lingering Commonwealth and NATO influence with Soviet-oriented training. Despite dire warnings and grave consternation at the time (which may have further 108 Alexander, African Tightrope: My Two Years as Nkrumah’s Chief of Staff, 14; S. Kojo Addae, History of Ghana Airforce, vol. 4, Military Histories (Accra, Ghana: Eureka Publications, 2012), 28–29. 109 Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 379. 119 encouraged the British-trained officers to overthrow Nkrumah in 1966) the eighty-eight Soviet- trained officers then in the Ghana Armed forces were equally competent, and earned equal promotions.110 The source of training—East or West—did not matter considerably. Meanwhile, Nkrumah admonished the Ghana Military Academy’s 1962 graduating class that the foremost quality required for an officer was loyalty. “Loyalty must transcend all personal interests and ambitions, tribal, or regional considerations,” he told them.111 “Loyalty demands of you that you place the interests of the State above all others, and all your actions must be guided solely by that consideration.”112 This may have simply been an attempt to encourage the officers to inform on one another, as he continued: “You must beware of any covert attempts to undermine your supreme loyalty to the State and you should bring them to the notice of the authorities.”113 But Nkrumah’s address, like the one he gave the following year, clearly privileged the state, asserted the military’s duty to the state, and although it mentioned the Party, did not demand allegiance to either it nor to himself.114 Meanwhile, a Canadian officer in Ghana in the early 1960s recalled the “wrenching experience” of observing Army officers and cadets, as Nkrumah led the country from Parliamentary democracy toward a one-party state. “We at the military academy continued to give lectures about the Army’s responsibility to be loyal to the duly elected civilian government,” wrote former instructor and Canadian Lieutenant Colonel G. D. Hunt, “to which 110 Ibid., 118. 111 Kwame Nkrumah, “Draft Speech by Kwame Nkrumah to Ghana Military Academy Passing Out Parade; September 29, 1962” (Ghana Military Academy, Teshie, September 29, 1962), RG 14/4/506; Document 269, PRAAD. 112 Ibid. 113 Ibid. 114 Kwame Nkrumah, “Draft Speech by Kwame Nkrumah to Ghana Military Academy Passing Out Parade; September 24, 1963” (Ghana Military Academy, Teshie, September 24, 1963), RG 14/4/506; Document 328, PRAAD. 120 the cadets listened respectfully but, I’m sure, with inner amusement at this white man’s fairy tale.”115 What makes Hunt’s recollection of the “white man’s fairy tale” of Army loyalty to the civilian government so poignant is that he himself—a Canadian officer before a class of Ghanaian cadets—was part of the mirage. Different aspects of fantasy adhere to the concept of military loyalty. Civilian control of the military was, at best, a Western illusion, if not an imposition.116 In other places in West Africa, postcolonial nationalism successfully enveloped previously strong corporate bonds between companions, and there was no reason nationalism would not subsume the military’s independence in Ghana.117 A decade later, scholars and soldiers tried to correlate widespread and persistent military rule in Africa with precolonial governing traditions, but the contemporary influence of Western social science required extra- national reference points to explain most aspects of Ghana’s military evolution.118 So while some Ghanaian officers (and their Canadian instructors) may have desired Ghana’s civil-military relationship Ghanaian state to resemble a Canadian or American-style model, even that model was an incompletely realized ideal even an ideal in the West. 115 G. D. Hunt, “Recollections of the Canadian Armed Forces Training Team in Ghana, 1961-1968,” Canadian Defense Quarterly 18, no. 5 (April 1989): 46. 116 Adekson, “Pay, Promotion, and Other Self-Interests of Military Intervention in Politics”; Arlinghaus, Military Development in Africa, 13; Henry S. Bienen, “African Militaries as Foreign Policy Actors,” in Arms and the African: Military Influences on Africa’s International Relations, ed. William J Foltz and Henry S. Bienen (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1985), 153–70; Samuel Decalo, “Modalities of Civil-Military Stability in Africa,” The Journal of Modern African Studies 27, no. 4 (December 1, 1989): 547–78; Hutchful, “Institutional Decomposition and Junior Ranks’ Political Action in Ghana”; Claude E. Welch Jr., “Civilian Control of the Military: Myth and Reality,” in Civilian Control of the Military: Theory and Cases from Developing Countries, ed. Welch (Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1976), 1–42. 117 Frederick Cooper, “The Dialectics of Decolonization: Nationalism and Labor Movements in Postwar French Africa,” in Tensions of Empire: Colonial Cultures in a Bourgeois World, ed. Frederick Cooper and Ann Laura Stoler (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1997), 406. 118 Ali A. Mazrui, “Soldiers as Traditionalizers: Military Rule and the Re-Africanization of Africa,” World Politics 28, no. 2 (January 1, 1976): 246–72. 121 The new Ghanaian military was not simply one social movement assuming its place in the nation. It is possible that Nkrumah’s cautious admonition about loyalty to the state and Canadian and Soviet commissioning training for Ghanaian cadets were mere cases of reinforcing the dominance of the nation-form. But the political tragedies each attempted to head off (Nkrumah’s “covert attempts” and eventual coup; Hunt’s “wrenching experience” of military acquiescence to one-party rule) affirm the presence of a political ideal of military non- interference in politics which all participants in international military training acknowledged, even if such training only weakly transferred the ability to attain such an ideal. If both sides saw in their version of the modern military the closest thing to pure nationalism, they arrived at that assumption via international routes. Ghanaian military personnel, then, were adept in national and international cultures, not to the neglect of either. Recognition of a similar “double cultured” identity occurs more often in the historiography of the African diaspora—which, as we will see, offers another useful way to understand how individuals related with Military Internationalism institutionally—but it applies in this discussion of Ghana’s domestic military institutions as well.119 On the other hand, the “double-cultured” identity also implies the ability to “come and go freely between rustic and urban circles.”120 In the case of Military Internationalism, the Ghanaian military seemed conversant—even fluent—in international military standards for political behavior with a much more limited ability to enact that identity in practice in governance. In this case, the evidence suggests that if Internationalism appears to privilege the Western and modern nation-form, it is from a policy perspective, not an individual one. 119 The phrase “double culture” first appears in Philip Mayer and Iona Mayer, Townsmen or Tribesmen; Conservatism and the Process of Urbanization in a South African City, Xhosa in Town 2 (Cape Town: Oxford University Press, 1961), 11; Amoah applies the term to urban Ghanaians who maintain their rural identities, complicating the “urbanization as detribilzation” dichotomy. Amoah, Reconstructing the Nation in Africa, 136. 120 Mayer and Mayer, Townsmen or Tribesmen; Conservatism and the Process of Urbanization in a South African City, 10. 122 American Assistance and Ghanaian Internationalism after 1966 The evolution of U.S. military assistance policy to Ghana following its 1966 coup illustrates a new combination of pragmatism and idealism in American understanding of its role in Africa. Ghana’s military leaders assured the United States that their military incursion was justified, and would be brief, but President Johnson and his advisors still considered military aid to Ghana a multinational effort, and resisted expanding American assistance. Meanwhile, the Vietnam War sapped domestic support for American military assistance in general. The United States’ ongoing international military education and training program with Ghana exemplified how, despite some glaringly contradictory results, foreign policymakers placed even more faith in the long-term benefits of training foreign military personnel in the United States. The U.S. still lacked concrete evidence of their effectiveness, but as the academic consensus that had initially supported military modernization crumbled in the late 1960s, those programs remained intact with new ideological scaffolding. When Ghanaian military and police officers took over the state in 1966, they drastically curbed Ghana’s cooperation with communist states, but Ghana’s significance as a pan-African leader was already shrinking. Their action represented a local response to specific political and economic conditions in the Ghanaian Armed Forces and in Ghana’s balance of power.121 On the other hand, between 1966 and 1969, when the National Liberation Council restored constitutional rule, the regime consciously expressed its national agenda according to international norms. From justifying the initial coup and military rule in general to defending Ghana’s defense policy and reliance on international training programs, Ghana’s military leaders 121 This is the consensus of participants and external scholars. See Afrifa, The Ghana Coup, 24th February 1966; Ocran, Politics of the Sword; Baynham, The Military and Politics in Nkrumah’s Ghana; Kraus, “Arms and Politics in Ghana”; Price, “Military Officers and Political Leadership,” 364; Adekson, “Pay, Promotion, and Other Self- Interests of Military Intervention in Politics,” 16; Bennett suggests the 1966 coup may have had more “ideological” motives than those that followed Bennett, “The Motivation for Military Intervention,” 660. 123 altered, but never abandoned, the international reference points for the national military. While they continued to believe in the military’s power to modernize Ghanaian society, they retained external models of modernity that employed broadly internationalist rhetoric for support. Few in the United States or Ghana were surprised when British-trained military and police officers overthrew President Kwame Nkrumah in February 1966. Nkrumah had escaped assassination or overthrow at least seven times between 1962 and 1966.122 Although there is no public evidence the United States explicitly participated in the successful coup, it maintained close contact with the men the U.S. knew were preparing the coup and conducted “psychological warfare” aimed at diminishing Nkrumah’s domestic support since 1964.123 President Johnson considered the event a “fortuitous windfall” and sent congratulatory messages to the National Liberation Council along with initial gestures of support in the form of “a few thousand tons of surplus wheat or rice.”124 Ghana’s new head of state, Lieutenant General J. A. Ankrah, made little headway convincing the United States to expand its economic and military assistance after the coup. He knew he had the United States’ political support, and delivered captured Soviet anti-aircraft guns to the U.S. as a gesture of goodwill, but he wanted economic assistance in the form of an 122 Baynham, The Military and Politics in Nkrumah’s Ghana, 134; William P. Mahoney Jr., “252. Telegram From the Embassy in Ghana to the Department of State, April 2, 1965,” in Volume XXIV: Africa, ed. Nina Davis Howland, vol. XXIV, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1964-1968 (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 445. 123 Trimble, “237. FRUS 1964-1968 Vol XXIV Africa”; Nina Davis Howland, ed., “257. Memorandum For the Deputy Director of Central Intelligence (Helms), February 25, 1966,” in Volume XXIV: Africa, vol. XXIV, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1964-1968 (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 453–54; Robert W. Komer, “253. Memorandum From Robert W. Komer of the National Security Council Staff to the President’s Special Assistant for National Security Affairs (Bundy); May 27, 1965,” in Volume XXIV: Africa, ed. Nina Davis Howland, vol. XXIV, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1964-1968 (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 447. 124 Robert W. Komer, “260. Memorandum From the President’s Acting Special Assistant for National Security Affairs (Komer) to President Johnson; March 12, 1966,” in Volume XXIV: Africa, ed. Nina Davis Howland, vol. XXIV, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1964-1968 (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 457; Lt Gen J. A. Ankrah, “261. Letter from Chairman of the National Liberation Council Lieutenant General Ankrah to President Johnson, March 24, 1966.,” in Volume XXIV: Africa, ed. Nina Davis Howland, vol. XXIV, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1964-1968 (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 458–61. 124 International Monetary Fund “line of credit,” considerable agricultural aid to avoid a famine “within the next few months,” and an anti-aircraft radar and missile system of his own to defend against external threats.125 The State Department provided $35 million in economic aid, but feared “Ghanaians have exaggerated expectations of what the U.S. can do for them.”126 Officials at the State Department knew that Ankrah was disappointed with the “relative paucity of support” that other Western countries—especially Britain—had provided, but they resolved only “to press the Ghanaians toward the U.K., as its traditional supporter.”127 Congress would not support expanding military assistance beyond its current, limited program, so Secretary of State Rusk directed the embassy in London to press the British and Canadians to reassess their ability to help Ghana.128 Ankrah exchanged warm letters with President Johnson in the spring of 1966, culminating with a visit to Washington in October 1967.129 Johnson told Ankrah that the U.S. would “continue to train Ghanaian officers in the US, but we hope Ghana will look to the UK and Canada for the bulk of its military needs.”130 Significantly, the U.S. still considered training 125 Ankrah, “261. FRUS 1964-1968 Vol XXIV Africa,” 460; Nicholas deBelleville Katzenbach, “Secret Memorandum from Nicholas deBelleville Katzenbach, Undersecretary of State to the President, October 9, 1967; Subject: Your Meeting with General Ankrah,” October 9, 1967, RG 59 CFPF 1967-1969; Box 2140; Folder POL 7 Ghana 1/1/67; Document 17255, NACP; Franklin Williams, “Confidential Telegram 764 from Franklin Williams, Ambassador to Ghana, to Secretary of State; August 29, 1967” (American Embassy, Accra, August 29, 1967), RG 59 CFPF 1967-1969; Box 2141; Folder POL 23 Ghana 1/1/67, NACP; Dean Rusk, “Secret Telegram from Sec. of State Rusk to U.S. Embassy, Accra; September 11, 1967” (Washington, DC, September 11, 1967), RG 59 CFPF 1967-1969; Box 2141; Folder POL 23 Ghana 1/1/67; Document 35324, NACP. 126 Benjamin H. Read, “Confidential Memorandum for Mr. Walt W. Rostow by Benjamin H. Read, Executive Secretary; Subject: Washington Visit of Ghana Head-of-State, General Joseph A. Ankrah; September 29, 1967,” September 29, 1967, 3, RG 59 CFPF 1967-1969; Box 2140; Folder POL 7 Ghana 1/1/67, NACP. 127 Read, “Confidential Memorandum for Mr. Walt W. Rostow by Benjamin H. Read, Executive Secretary; Subject: Washington Visit of Ghana Head-of-State, General Joseph A. Ankrah; September 29, 1967.” 128 Dean Rusk, “Secret Telegram from Sec. of State Rusk to U.S. Embassy, Accra; May 1,1967; Subject: Ref: Telegrams Accra 2471 and London 7198” (Washington, DC, May 1, 1967), RG 59 CFPF 1967-1969; Box 1690; Folder DEF - Defense Affairs US-3 Ghana 1/1/67; Document 185545, NACP. 129 Lyndon B. Johnson, “262. Letter from President Johnson to Chairman of the National Liberation Council Lieutenant General Ankrah, April 4, 1966,” in Volume XXIV: Africa, ed. Nina Davis Howland, vol. XXIV, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1964-1968 (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 462; J. A. Ankrah, “Letter from Lt. Gen. J.A. Ankrah, Chairman of the National Liberation Council and Ghana Head of State, to Pres. Lyndon Johnson; June 27, 1967;” (Accra, June 27, 1967), RG 59 CFPF 1967-1969; Box 2140; Folder POL 7 Ghana 1/1/67, NACP; Katzenbach, “Secret Memorandum from Nicholas deBelleville Katzenbach, Undersecretary of State to the President, October 9, 1967; Subject: Your Meeting with General Ankrah.” 130 Katzenbach, “Secret Memorandum from Nicholas deBelleville Katzenbach, Undersecretary of State to the President, October 9, 1967; Subject: Your Meeting with General Ankrah.” 125 Ghanaian military elites part of its strategy—perhaps its only strategy for military assistance to Ghana. Ghana’s military leaders seemed to have convinced American policymakers that they had acted judiciously and were working to restore constitutional rule as soon as possible. Within a month of the coup, Ankrah sent a warm but slightly desperate letter to President Johnson describing his rationale for seizing power and intention to restore democracy as soon as possible.131 In his reply, Johnson acknowledged the coup’s necessity, offered some food aid, and held out hope for a return to democratic rule.132 Coup leader Colonel Akwasi Afrifa credited the army’s commitment to democracy to traditions forged at the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst.133 By spring, 1967, William F. Gutteridge of the Royal African Society published an article in African Affairs that recognized the persistent psychological importance of Western military training on Ghana’s military leaders, but also drew a distinction between imagined Western military traditions of “non-intervention in politics” and the reality behind military influence over Western politics.134 Gutteridge argued that, rhetoric aside, Western militaries regularly intervened in their states’ politics. Meanwhile, Ghana’s coup leaders seemed genuinely distressed about their political role. Further, although foreign aid for African militaries, particularly the training of officers overseas, may provide them some encouragement to intervene in politics, to Gutteridge, the purpose of their intervention was more likely “determined by particular local conditions than by the influence of the source of assistance.”135 Gutteridge gave the Ghanaian military the benefit of the doubt in 1967, and provided some academic cover for continued American programs to train Ghanaians. In June 1967, Ankrah again assured 131 Ankrah, “261. FRUS 1964-1968 Vol XXIV Africa.” 132 Johnson, “262. FRUS 1964-1968 Vol XXIV Africa.” 133 Afrifa, The Ghana Coup, 24th February 1966, 50. 134 Gutteridge, “The Political Role of African Armed Forces: The Impact of Foreign Military Assistance,” 95. 135 Ibid., 103. 126 Johnson that he had begun “steps toward civilian rule and the re-establishment of institutions essential to democratic Government.”136 Prior to Ankrah’s October 1967 visit, Walt W. Rostow reassured Johnson that “Ankrah and his colleagues haven’t behaved like the usual military dictatorship,” and praised Ankrah’s National Redemption Council’s steps to draft a new constitution and prepare for elections.137 Despite their relief at Nkrumah’s overthrow, American diplomats did not wholeheartedly support Ghana’s coup leaders. For one, they suspected that Ghana was requesting weapons it could not afford and did not need, given its insignificant external threat. While fending off Ankrah’s requests for anti-aircraft radar, Secretary of State Rusk advised the American Ambassador in Ghana to avoid discussing sales or grants of military equipment and “do nothing to encourage” the Ghanaian government “on prospects for US military assistance” of any kind.138 The costs of providing “adequate defenses against vague threats” would be too high. Further, the State Department considered the army itself a threat to Ghana’s stability.139 At 15,000 men, the recently expanded army was the largest in West Africa, served little useful purpose, and consumed far more national resources than Ghana could afford. But given Ghana’s high unemployment, it could not be reduced without serious danger.140 Franklin H. Williams, the American ambassador in Accra, feared that the failed counter-coup of April 1967 had shown the potential for more political violence. “The army is too big. The army is larger than the country 136 Ankrah, “Letter from Lt. Gen. J.A. Ankrah, Chairman of the National Liberation Council and Ghana Head of State, to Pres. Lyndon Johnson; June 27, 1967;.” 137 Walt W. Rostow, “271. Memorandum From the President’s Special Assistant (Rostow) to President Johnson, October 9, 1967.,” in Volume XXIV: Africa, ed. Nina Davis Howland, vol. XXIV, Foreign Relations of the United States, 1964-1968 (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1995), 475–77. 138 Rusk, “Secret Telegram from Sec. of State Rusk to U.S. Embassy, Accra; September 11, 1967”; Rusk, “Secret Telegram from Sec. of State Rusk to U.S. Embassy, Accra; May 1,1967; Subject: Ref: Telegrams Accra 2471 and London 7198.” 139 Katzenbach, “Secret Memorandum from Nicholas deBelleville Katzenbach, Undersecretary of State to the President, October 9, 1967; Subject: Your Meeting with General Ankrah.” 140 Read, “Confidential Memorandum for Mr. Walt W. Rostow by Benjamin H. Read, Executive Secretary; Subject: Washington Visit of Ghana Head-of-State, General Joseph A. Ankrah; September 29, 1967”; Robert Dowse, “Military and Police Rule,” in Politicians and Soldiers in Ghana, 1966-1972, ed. Dennis Austin and Robin Luckham, Studies in Commonwealth Politics and History 3 (London: Cass, 1975), 16. 127 needs or can afford,” he reported to Washington.141 Yet even those army officers who were “more interested in quality than quantity” recognized that “this is not an opportune time to cut back” and risk a counter-coup or add to Ghana’s unemployment.142 By 1967, the President and the Secretary of State also knew that domestic and Congressional support for expanding military assistance to Ghana or any other African country had withered. Congress had cut the Military Assistance Program by nearly half in 1967, and expected to cut it further in 1968.143 In May, Rusk told the U.S. Ambassador in Ghana that “Congressional distaste” would prohibit any new grant-based military assistance programs.144 “It [is] not a question of being opposed to aid or help to individual countries,” Rusk cabled. “He personally believed” that the U.S. spent too little on aid, but with the large federal deficit and “heavy Viet-Nam budget,” he expected Congress to slash all foreign aid further.145 Under Secretary Katzenbach advised President Johnson to give Ankrah the same news in October, during the head of state’s visit to Washington. “We value Ghana’s constructive influence in Africa, and we want to let [Ankrah] know it,” Katzenbach told Johnson. “At the same time, we want him to understand that there are limits to what we can do for Ghana.”146 “There is great hostility in the Congress to military aid,” he wrote.147 “We will continue to train Ghanaian 141 Franklin H. Williams, “Confidential Telegram from Franklin H. Williams, Ambassador to Ghana, to Department of State; August 10, 1967; Subject: Internal Security A Brief Status Report” (American Embassy, Accra, August 10, 1967), RG 59 CFPF 1967-1969; Box 2141; Folder POL 23 Ghana 1/1/67, NACP. Emphasis in original. 142 Ibid. 143 $1.4 billion in 1966, $792 million in 1967, $500 million eventually appropriated in 1968, $375 million appropriated in 1969. United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1981, 6. 144 Rusk, “Secret Telegram from Sec. of State Rusk to U.S. Embassy, Accra; May 1,1967; Subject: Ref: Telegrams Accra 2471 and London 7198.” 145 Dean Rusk, “Confidential Telegram from Sec. of State Rusk to U.S. Embassy, Accra; October 12, 1967” (Washington, DC, October 12, 1967), RG 59 CFPF 1967-1969; Box 2140; Folder POL 7 Ghana 1/1/67; Document 52667, NACP. 146 Katzenbach, “Secret Memorandum from Nicholas deBelleville Katzenbach, Undersecretary of State to the President, October 9, 1967; Subject: Your Meeting with General Ankrah”. Emphasis in original. 147 Ibid. 128 officers in the US,” he added, “but we hope Ghana will look to the UK and Canada for the bulk of its military needs.”148 As the President, State Department and Defense Department all planned for Congress to cut drastically all future foreign military assistance programs in 1967, they reiterated their support for programs that brought individuals from the global South to the U.S. for military training. In his detailed report to the President describing the expected impact of Congressional cuts on the military assistance program, Defense Secretary McNamara considered America’s specific military objectives in Africa “quite limited.”149 Except for minor programs to continue to lease military facilities in Ethiopia and Libya, and offset Soviet influence in Algeria, the U.S. predominantly aimed to “improve the capabilities of the armed forces to maintain internal security, where appropriate, as a basis for orderly national development.”150 Of all military assistance, McNamara claimed there was no substitute for training programs in the U.S. “Such training is an effective augmentation of our diplomacy,” he argued, “and should be continued.”151 International education and training absorbed 14 percent of the $375 million Military Assistance Plan in 1969 (itself down from $1.6 billion in 1962). On the other hand, despite the 1963 projection to spend $150,000 on Ghanaian training grants, in 1967, the U.S. spent only $25,000 for twelve Ghanaian students’ training in the United States. Thirteen arrived in 1968; fourteen in 1969 as the United States began sponsoring Ghanaian officers for Command and General Staff College. The main justification for military education and training programs had shifted from being modernization-based toward a more pragmatic supplement to diplomacy 148 Ibid. 149 Described in greater detail in Chapter 1. McNamara, “Draft Memorandum for the President on the Military Assistance Program, FY 1969-1973; December 18, 1967,” 41. 150 Ibid. 151 Ibid., 12. 129 as the political environment in Africa shifted toward military governments, but faith in the programs’ power to transform society continued in both the United States and Ghana. In February 1967, the Director of Public Relations for the Ghana Armed Forces published volume 1 of the Ghana Armed Forces Magazine. This journal, the head of state Lieutenant General Ankrah, stated in an editorial in the first issue, would inform the Armed Forces and Police Service of “the affairs of our country,” it would “provide a forum for the sharing of experiences,” and would “serve as a chain of brotherhood among officers and men.”152 The first several issues included local interest stories, updates from different branches of the service, and news of armed forces sporting clubs. The magazine, which renamed itself the Armed Forces News or AF News after 1969, was always a mouthpiece for the current regime, military or civilian, but in attempting a wide coverage of political, military, and social events in Ghana, it published articles from a variety of sources, including chaplains, enlisted correspondents, editorials from Ghanaian units outside Accra, and occasionally letters to the editor.153 Anonymously penned articles celebrating the coup, with titles like: “The Coup: A Ray of Hope At Last,” ”The Expected Day!” and “The Rationale Behind Military Intervention” filled several pages as well. Some of the magazine’s more thoughtful articles reveal a subtler approach to the coup and to the magazine’s purpose explaining it. They also reveal a complex dialog between Ghana’s Armed Forces, Ghana’s government, and international standards for military professionalism, diplomacy, and journalism. 152 J. A. Ankrah, “Message from Lt-Gen J. A. Ankrah, OOV, MC, Chairman of the NLC and Commander-in-Chief of the Ghana Armed Forces,” Ghana AF Magazine, February 1967, Bibliothek der Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung, Bonn, Germany. 153 I am unable to confirm whether the published letters (some quite critical of the Ghana Armed Forces administration), were genuine. 130 In the first article of the first issue of the Ghana Armed Forces Magazine, Ankrah offered the standard justification for the coup, but he did so in a surprisingly multicultural way. After his explanation, and before declaring the magazine’s purpose, Ankrah included an elegy for the coup’s relatively few casualties—seven soldiers and four civilians dead—which he merged with Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. “We do well to remember those of our comrades who paid the supreme sacrifice by laying down their lives in selfless devotion,” he wrote.154 “We who are left behind are morally bound to dedicate our lives to the democratic ideals for which they gave their all and their best.” He continued: “Let this be our daily resolve that these our dead comrades shall not have died in vain and say with that great champion for civil liberties that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom and that we in Ghana shall thrive in democracy, freedom, tolerance, goodwill, prosperity and peace.”155 Ankrah was not writing strictly for a foreign audience here, although early editions of the AF News appeared in libraries around the world.156 His next sentence, “This new journal is earnestly commended to your patronage,” spoke directly to the men of the Armed Forces and Police Service. Nor is it likely that he plagiarized Lincoln’s stirring prose, expecting nobody to notice—he specifically cited “that great champion for civil liberties.” Instead, in the first article of volume 1, issue 1 of the Ghana Armed Forces Magazine, the Commander of the Ghana Armed Forces, through the cooperation of the Director of Public Relations, described the political and moral role of the military in Ghanaian society in terms that specifically merged 154 Ankrah, “Message from Lt-Gen J. A. Ankrah, OOV, MC, Chairman of the NLC and Commander-in-Chief of the Ghana Armed Forces,” 3. 155 Ibid. 156 The current presence of this magazine at the Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung Library in Bonn, Germany and its absence from the Library of Congress betrays some of the international circulation of the first several issues of the AF News. This library, which specializes in German and international labor movements, only held issues one through six (February 1967 through October 1969). “Library of the Friedrich Ebert Foundation,” accessed September 10, 2013, http://library.fes.de/index_en.htm. On the other hand, the Director of Public Relations for the Ghana Armed Forces did not maintain copies of these six editions. 131 Ghanaian and international language, symbolizing the Ghana Army’s simultaneous presence in both milieus. Through the AF News, Ghana’s military leaders regularly blended national and international rhetoric to explain domestic politics and Ghana’s relationships with regional and global partners. In 1969, on the verge of returning to constitutional rule, the AF News’ “The Rationale Behind Military Intervention in Politics” integrated Feliks Gross’ The Seizure of Political Power in a Century of Revolutions, Finer’s The Man On Horseback, and Huntington’s Changing Patterns of Military Politics in order “to discuss the conditions under which coups and Revolutions can be deemed inevitable,” and partially excuse the Ghanaian case.157 In articulating Ghana’s defense policy, Colonel A. K. Kattah compared Nkrumah’s “muddled up” priorities and “expensive white elephants,” which failed to follow “age-old strategic and diplomatic tenets” against American, British, and Israeli strategic concepts, which “were clear and precise and were based on their fundamental conception of what entailed dangers to their national interests.”158 In 1968, Public Affairs officer Captain S. G. Amoo began his article describing the role of the Director of Public Relations by quoting James Forrestal, the United States’ first Secretary of Defense without irony: “I know of no task that is more complex, except possibly the task of government itself, then that of engendering in a democracy and appreciation of the role of the Armed Forces.”159 Raising the Ghanaian public’s appreciation for the role of the Armed Forces also merged local and international discourse. Early editions of the AF News attempted to remove the stigma 157 The Staff, “The Rationale Behind MIlitary Intervention in Politics,” The Ghana Armed Forces Magazine, June 1969, 21, Bibliothek der Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung, Bonn, Germany. 158 Ghanaian sources, especially military ones, frequently use only first and middle initials with last names. In some cases, we can find their first names elsewhere, but the AF News rarely published them. We will see first initials regularly in this chapter and chapter 5. Col. A. K. Kattah, “Foundations of Defense Policy,” The Ghana Armed Forces Magazine, February 1968, 14, Bibliothek der Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung, Bonn, Germany. 159 Capt. S. G. Amoo, “Selling the Forces to the Taxpayer,” The Ghana Armed Forces Magazine, February 1968, 27, Bibliothek der Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung, Bonn, Germany It’s a reasonable suspicion, although I have no evidence, that Amoo first read this quote as a student at a Public Affairs Officers school in the United States. 132 of military service and rehabilitate the “Abongo.”160 Amoo’s “Selling the Forces to the Taxpayer” imagined “these strong Abongo boys” coming to Ghana’s economic aid, mobilizing military men and equipment on behalf of Ghana’s cocoa industry. 161 When they did, in December 1968, hauling 1,400 tons of cocoa in army vehicles from the interior to the coast over badly degraded roads, the AF News celebrated the new rapport with locals, in which “any fear or mistrust which these inhabitants might have entertained about the military gave way to harmonious relationship between them.”162 In volume 1, issue 1, Public Affairs officer Lieutenant A. A. Enninful attempted to put the Abongo stereotype to rest. For Ghanaian parents, “the lofty ambition for their children was to give them a high education for a white-collar executive position, a doctor, or engineer – but not a soldier.” 163 Enninful imagined a past scene in the home of a young man announcing his plan to join the service to his parents, where “the wailing of mothers” usually accompanied “the least inclination of their sons to join the army”: “Abongo? Not for all the breath that holds me—not in my lifetime. You can join your abongo when I’m dead and gone you damned one; and even that my ghost shall keep haunting you.”164 Now, Enninful wrote, the well-organized and disciplined Armed Forces have replaced the traditional Asafos of old, and “most parents are beginning to realize the Armed Forces is a useful arm of the nation, with a large fund of bright prospects for the youth.”165 The Armed Forces liberated Ghana, Enninful suggested, when it “took up arms one morning to chase out Kwame Nkrumah, his myrmidons, and his Corrupt People's Party organization from our midst.”166 As 160 For more on the stigma, see also Afrifa, The Ghana Coup, 24th February 1966, 93. 161 Amoo, “Selling the Forces to the Taxpayer,” 27. 162 A Staff Correspondent, “‘Operation Yellow Pod’: Armed Forces Cart Cocoa,” The Ghana Armed Forces Magazine, June 1969, Bibliothek der Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung, Bonn, Germany. 163 Lt A. Enninful, “The Change From Civil To Military,” Ghana AF Magazine, February 1967, Bibliothek der Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung, Bonn, Germany. 164 Ibid., 19–20 Transcribed exactly from original. . 165 Ibid. Asafos were Akan warrior groups in the 17th and 18th centuries. 166 Ibid., 20 “Corrupt” is a play on Nkrumah’s Convention People’s Party (CPP). 133 Ghana’s economy struggled, the Armed Forces offered an alternative, often international path for those who could not afford to educate their children. “A number of young officers are currently on study leave in Ghanaian universities,” he wrote. 167 Even more, “Elsewhere in European universities, there are lots more studying engineering or doing post-graduate courses.”168 Even as an avenue for advancement within Ghana, and as an antidote to the stereotype of the parochial, uneducated abongo, the Armed Forces advertised itself through the international opportunities it offered. As Chapter 5 explores more, many Ghanaian soldiers recalled that these opportunities had enticed them to join the service. International education and training provided multiple fora for Ghanaians to articulate national objectives. When a group of senior American military officers from the National War College visited Ghana in spring, 1968, the Ghanaian Chief of Defense Staff, Air Marshall Michael Otu addressed them at length about Ghana’s defense policy, which the AF News reprinted. The Americans, Otu suspected, “may be dying to hear from our lips, our own version of the defense or justification for the forcible overthrow of the old regime,” but he defiantly refused to give it.169 Instead, he summarized Ghana’s domestic and regional security roles and called the West to task for its failure to ensure justice in Rhodesia and South Africa. “There is no doubt that the sincerity and motives of Western powers towards Africa and African problems is facing a severe test,” he told them.170 “If only they would not betray the humanistic ideals upon which their countries and their greatnesses have been founded the solution may not be too far to seek.”171 On the other hand, as Ghana’s Armed Forces sought greater efficiency and expertise, he recognized the ongoing importance that “both officers and men take advantage of higher military 167 Ibid. 168 Ibid. 169 Air Marshal M. A. Otu, “GOC On Ghana’s Defence Policy,” The Ghana Armed Forces Magazine, June 1968, 10, Bibliothek der Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung, Bonn, Germany. 170 Ibid., 11. 171 Ibid.. Verbatim from text. 134 courses overseas not available in Ghana.”172 “Here,” he continued, “I must express my deep gratitude to countries like yours, Canada, and UK which readily provide us with these training facilities.”173 Finally, he addressed Ghana’s industrialization and economic development, the National Liberation Council’s path toward restoring constitutional rule, and the Armed Forces’ potential as a resource “for the development of the country in various fields, including: building of bridges, roads and townships; conveying essential supplies and foodstuffs to afflicted areas during emergencies and national disasters; [and] medical evacuation by air.”174 Ghana’s Chief of Defense Staff in 1968 clearly considered the military the most modern institution in Ghanaian society. Modernization theory declined in the West in the late 1960s, but Ghanaian voices still reaffirmed old assumptions about the military as the most organized, cohesive, or rationalized institutions in Ghanaian society. When the civil state crumbled during years of military rule, simply remaining intact made these self-fulfilling assertions.175 From its very first issue, the AF News repeated this claim, although not without contradiction.176 “As a large complex organization involves almost every aspect of the national, political, social and economic life, the Armed Forces should, without any reservation, maintain leaders to transcend . . . elementary military qualities,” it argued in 1969.177 Military leaders worked “in close harmony with civilian diplomats, scientists, economists, legislators, industrialists and experts in other innumerable fields,” it continued. Therefore, “They should have the ability to make sound judgments on matters relating to a large percentage of the population of the country.”178 As if recognizing the 172 Ibid.. The term “men” refers to the enlisted members of the military (not officers). The phrase “other ranks” commonly appears as well. 173 Ibid.. Verbatim from text. 174 Ibid. 175 See Hutchful, “Institutional Decomposition and Junior Ranks’ Political Action in Ghana,” 212. 176 Enninful, “The Change From Civil To Military,” 20. 177 Tachie-Menson, “Education of Military Leaders,” 10. 178 Ibid. 135 likelihood that military rule would return to plague Ghana, the final issue before the first round of elections in 1969 both praised and cautioned military personnel. “The Armed Forces is the most organized institution in the country,” read an unattributed article titled “Military Personnel and Politics.”179 “It is a closely knit body, and the nature of our job requires absolute solidarity and loyalty to our superiors, inferiors, and one another.” While admitting Ghana’s “first attempt at self-rule was a pathetic failure, and should be better forgotten but for the fact that we need past experience to guide future actions,” this article still warned, “it is also in our interest to eschew politics.”180 Even when a military junta that vocally proclaimed its preference for American assistance took power in Ghana in 1966, the United States did not expand its military assistance program beyond its ongoing training and education mission. This was not simply a case of the U.S. preferring the new Ghanaian government as a Cold War proxy. American diplomats in Accra and Washington suspected the military regime’s capacity to govern and refused to fulfill the military government’s other requests for weapons and equipment. Sponsoring training and education in the United States, on the other hand, easily accommodated military rule because it promised to deliver a different kind of result. Especially when strong Congressional reaction against failed American modernization-turned-military missions in Asia and Latin American threatened foreign assistance budgets, both the State and Defense Departments reiterated the usefulness of education and training programs. The Americans’ response to persistent Ghanaian requests for more military aid exemplified how the State and Defense Departments responded to Congressional pressure to downsize all security assistance programs: Military education and training programs were the best way to provide corporate benefits to the recipient nations and 179 Unknown, “Military Personnel and Politics,” The Ghana Armed Forces Magazine, June 1969, Bibliothek der Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung, Bonn, Germany. 180 Ibid. 136 Cold War allegiance—at low cost—in the long term, but they did so at a personal, psychological level. Military rule in Ghana, therefore, did not require the United States to reconsider its assumptions. As they had since independence, members of the Ghanaian Armed Forces after 1966 mingled local and international language to articulate their national agenda. When validating the coup or describing military rule, they carefully selected rhetoric that merged fluency in internationally recognized discourse—like the Gettysburg Address—with local idioms—like the “Abongo” stereotype—to reveal a transnational understanding of the role of the military within Ghanaian society. Between the first and second coups, even the most stalwart defenders of Nkrumah’s overthrow carefully acknowledged internationally-recognized norms of civilian control of society. On the other hand, by recycling previously fashionable academic rhetoric affirming the military’s potential as the most modern and organized social institution, they kept alive and modified an international intellectual import that had largely gone out of fashion in the West.181 This combination of local and international references portended ongoing military involvement in Ghanaian government. Ghana’s Return to Military Rule and the Limits of American Military Education Scholars did not universally condemn the first Ghana coup in 1966, and Ghana’s return to civilian rule in 1969 suggested the initial foray into military rule might have been an aberration or a correction. In July 1970, as part of the Pugwash movement, the Adlai Stevenson Institute sponsored the first Pan-African Regional Symposium on Disarmament and Development at the University of Ghana. The symposium drew tame conclusions about civil-military relationships in 181 On these “para-modernities,” see Korang, Writing Ghana, Imagining Africa, 3. 137 Africa. It acknowledged that excessive defense budgets in Africa diverted essential resources away from economic and political growth and made African armies more likely to intervene in politics; but with proper guidance, armies could “be directed to nonmilitary objectives” and “make a tremendous contribution to physical development.”182 The conference’s choice of venue—the University of Ghana in 1970—is more telling. Ghana was the first African state to return to civilian rule after a coup, and so it inspired academic speculation cloaked in hope that other military-run states might also return to constitutional rule. When Ghana’s Education Minister addressed conference attendees, he argued that small states and new states depended even more heavily on the international order, especially the United Nations, not just for their own security, but also as the most effective path to national greatness.183 Transnational cultural and educational exchanges directed toward industrialization and economic integration offered the best alternative to militarization, Minister William Ofori-Atta argued, asserting that international cooperation was the essential component to avoiding economically debilitating military competition.184 For Ofori-Atta and the conference’s other scholars who feared that Ghana was still particularly vulnerable to relapse into military rule, military intervention would more likely produce political decay than political development continent-wide, but international intervention in education and training was the antidote to military intervention in politics.185 Ghana’s initial popularity as a proto-independent African state, its descent, revival, and re-descent into military rule made it a common example for scholars of military rule in Africa 182 Frederick S. Arkhurst, “A Brief Survey of Disarmament Negotiations,” in Arms and African Development: Proceedings of the First Pan-African Citizens’ Conference, ed. Frederick S. Arkhurst, Praeger Special Studies in International Economics and Development (New York: Praeger, 1972), 18. 183 Frederick S. Arkhurst, ed., Arms and African Development: Proceedings of the First Pan-African Citizens’ Conference, Praeger Special Studies in International Economics and Development (New York: Praeger, 1972), ix. 184 Ibid., x. 185 Kraus, “Arms and Politics in Ghana,” 217; Welch, “The African Military and Political Development,” 228. 138 and a representative case study for American military assistance policy over time. Ghana’s second coup in 1972 and the persistence of military rule elsewhere in Africa required scholars to reassess military rule’s justice and prospects for success. Usually, observers condemned the military leaders who, after overthrowing civilian governments, were unable to govern more efficiently and unwilling to return to constitutional rule. Samuel Huntington had argued in 1968 that “military explanations do not explain military interventions,” and that coups were simply one manifestation of the general polarization and politicization of social and political institutions in underdeveloped societies.186 After Ghana’s second coup, however, most scholars considered the military itself the problem. The first coup violated previously “inviolable territory;” the military’s appetite “had grown perhaps by feeding;” and “the aftermath of military intervention is military intervention.”187 One reason American policymakers had such difficulty evaluating the long-term effect of their assistance programs was that recipient nations had unique, and often changing, uses for American aid. The case of Ghana demonstrates that even in a state that struggled to balance power between military and civilian political factions, America’s military exchange program assumed disproportionately large significance only in the American perspective. Kofi A. Busia, Ghana’s Prime Minister between 1969 and 1972, recognized that domestic political and economic conditions had distinctly international causes, but international military assistance rarely emerged as a solution. The ruling military council had established Busia’s 186 Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies, 194. 187 Valerie Plave Bennett, “Epilogue: Malcontents in Uniform,” in Politicians and Soldiers in Ghana, 1966-1972, ed. Dennis Austin and Robin Luckham, Studies in Commonwealth Politics and History 3 (London: Cass, 1975), 660; Austin and Luckham, Politicians and Soldiers in Ghana, 1966-1972, 3; Decalo quotes Ruth First in Samuel Decalo, Coups and Army Rule in Africa: Studies in Military Style (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1976), 19; Ruth First, Power in Africa, 1st American ed. (New York: Pantheon Books, 1970), 20; Simon Baynham, “Divide et Impera: Civilian Control of the Military in Ghana’s Second and Third Republics,” The Journal of Modern African Studies 23, no. 4 (December 1, 1985): 628. 139 Progress Party into power in 1969, and even though Busia rejected Nkrumahism, his vision of Ghanaian nationalism was no less pan-African. In October 1969, he told a gathering of American journalists at the National Press Club, “We shall not be tied to the apron strings of any country, whether East or West. We shall make our own decisions and take our stand on all international issues on the basis of two considerations: the interests of our country within the context of our international obligations; second, our consideration for the welfare and peace of the world on which our own progress and prosperity will ultimately depend.”188 The extent to which Busia or future leaders were willing to condemn American policy toward South Africa offered one measure of their diplomatic allegiance to the United States. Busia trod a precarious route between appearing as an unpopular “dialogue man” to ordinary Ghanaians, or placating the Americans in order to secure economic assistance. Ghana’s urgent need for debt relief or restructuring convinced Busia to moderate his critique of American policies, especially its toleration of Apartheid in southern Africa.189 Like other leaders across the Organization for African Unity, Busia struggled to keep alive enough diplomatic goodwill with the United States to sustain the economic assistance he needed when Ghanaians overwhelmingly opposed both Apartheid and the United States’ role in preserving it.190 At home, Busia criticized Apartheid, even encouraging the OAU to do more to train anti-Apartheid “freedom fighters,” but sent mixed signals to the world by siding with President Nixon in the United Nations to 188 Embassy of Ghana, “Dr. Busia at the National Press Club,” Ghana News, December 1969. 189 “Transcript of Televised Interview Granted to Mr. Carl Rowan, Former U.S. Ambassador to Finland and Director of U.S. Information Agency by the Rt. Hon. Dr. K. A. Busia, Prime Minister at the Castle [Otu] on Friday, 14th August, 1970,” Transcipt (Accra, August 14, 1970), RG 59 SNF 1970-1973; Box 2323, folder POL 15-1 Ghana, 1/1/71, NACP. 190 Embassy of Ghana, “Apartheid in South Africa: Dr. Busia Calls for Additional Methods”; William P. Rogers, “Confidential Memorandum from Secretary of State William P. Rogers to President Johnson, November 2, 1971; Subject: Call by Prime Minister Busia of Ghana November 4 (1971), 4:00 Pm,” Memorandum (Washington, DC, November 2, 1971), RG 59 SNF 1970-1973; Box 2322, folder POL 7 Ghana, NACP; For US policy shift toward accommodating and “constructive engagement” with South Africa, see Irwin, Gordian Knot; Thomas Borstelmann, Apartheid’s Reluctant Uncle: The United States and Southern Africa in the Early Cold War (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993). 140 encourage “dialogue” over sanctions.191 Meanwhile, he pressed the U.S. for more economic assistance. Ghanaians may be grateful for U.S. aid, he said, but “as a democratic country which underwrote Nkrumah’s tyranny . . . they should do more to underwrite the system which we are trying to build here.”192 Busia—the civilian statesman—used his limited diplomatic leverage to both prod and praise American foreign policy in Africa. Later, shortly after Colonel Acheampong overthrew Busia’s government, the American-trained military officer rejected that cautious path, re-affirming Nkrumahist priorities of “positive neutralism” and “non-alignment,” and announcing that Ghanaian diplomats would “no longer be advocates of dialogue with South Africa.”193 If acquiescence to other American security initiatives in Africa was one desired outcome of its ongoing military education and training program, Acheampong’s repudiation of “dialogue” suggests that objective failed. America repaid Busia’s circumspection with ambivalence. In its May 1971 policy planning paper for Ghana, the State Department wished to maintain Ghana’s generally favorable outlook toward the U.S., but “without trying [sic] ourselves closely to either Busia’s government’s political designs or its political future.”194 To the Americans, “The Busia government has not come to grips with such problems as endemic corruption, governmental inefficiency and lack of coherent planning.”195 In addition to continuing economic aid— especially food and commodities—the State Department recommended maintaining its current 191 Embassy of Ghana, “Apartheid in South Africa: Dr. Busia Calls for Additional Methods”; Rogers, “Confidential Memorandum from Secretary of State William P. Rogers to President Johnson, November 2, 1971; Subject: Call by Prime Minister Busia of Ghana November 4 (1971), 4:00 Pm.” 192 “Transcript of Televised Interview Granted to Mr. Carl Rowan, Former U.S. Ambassador to Finland and Director of U.S. Information Agency by the Rt. Hon. Dr. K. A. Busia, Prime Minister at the Castle [Otu] on Friday, 14th August, 1970,” 8. 193 J. H. McFarland, Jr., “Secret Telegram from J. H. McFarland, U.S. Embassy, Accra to Department of State, June 15, 1972; Subject: Biographic Information on Newly Appointed Ghanaian Ambassadors,” Memorandum (Accra, June 15, 1972), Box 2322, folder POL 7 Ghana, Record Group 59 General Records of the Department of State Subject Numeric Files 1970 - 1973; Bennett, “Epilogue: Malcontents in Uniform,” 309. 194 NSC Interdepartmental Group for Africa, “Secret Ghana Policy Planning Paper by NSC Interdepartmental Group for Africa, May 1971,” 2. Author assumes “tying,” not “trying” was intended. 195 Ibid., 6. 141 diplomatic “courses of action,” including: cultural diplomacy programs, “an imaginative and flexible Peace Corps presence,” its “information program activities,” and academic exchange programs.196 The State Department also recommended maintaining “at least present funding levels of the small but important [Military Assistance Program] training program.”197 The military might eventually pose a threat to Busia’s government, but the State Department’s country team thought the military leadership closely aligned with Busia’s Progress Party.198 On the other hand, since the military remained “the major force capable of unseating any government,” State Department staff feared Ghana’s weak “military and government control mechanisms” made it vulnerable to a “captain’s coup”—overthrow by junior military officers.199 Military assistance formed only a small part of America’s foreign policy with Ghana before the second coup in 1972, but the United States’ ambivalent reaction to the coup belies the emphasis it placed on keeping that small military education and training program operating. In their draft policy planning paper, composed six months prior by U.S. Embassy staff in Ghana, the country team included another sentence in the recommended “course of action” regarding the Military Assistance Program cited above. It read: “Maintain at least the present funding levels of the small but important MAP Training Program. This is the only program we have directed toward the politically crucial military establishment.”200 That second sentence disappeared from the final, State-approved document in May 1971. The embassy’s country team prepared their draft in December 1970, and in retrospect, that statement seems prophetic. Just eighteen months earlier, Lieutenant Colonel Ignatius Kutu 196 Ibid., 2. 197 Ibid. 198 Ibid., 6. 199 Ibid., 7. 200 J. H. McFarland, Jr., “Confidential Telegram from J. H. McFarland, Jr., US Embassy Ghana to Department of State, December 31, 1970; Subject: Ghana Draft Country Policy Paper,” Policy Paper (Accra, December 31, 1970), 4, RG 59 SNF 1970-1973; Box 2325, folder POL 1 Ghana-US 10/15/70, NACP. Emphasis is mine. 142 Acheampong had completed his year at Fort Leavenworth’s Command and General Staff College in the United States. He seemed to be precisely the kind of prominent military establishment figure the Americans intended to inspire. One year after this draft, however, he seized control of Ghana’s government while Busia travelled in England. Yet to the extent that the Americans noticed the connection between their international military education and training program and Ghana’s new military government, it barely affected the United States’ relationship with Acheampong. In the first weeks after the coup on January 13, 1972, American Ambassador Fred Hadsel sat tight. Days after the coup, in a cable back to Washington, he mused about the “[the] basic dilemma which has concerned me from [the] inception of [the] coup.”201 Coming to Busia’s defense might appear to support democracy in Ghana, but returning to the status quo ante—and the ineffectual Busia—risked “delaying [any] solution to Ghana’s fundamental problems.”202 Colonel Acheampong’s National Redemption Council (NRC) regime seemed by the 20th of January to be “apparently in full control of the country,” therefore American action supporting Busia might “encourage more extreme governmental action which would be inimical to our interests here and elsewhere in Africa.”203 Hadsel did not assume that Acheampong’s rise represented a freshening of Ghanaian-American relations. On the other hand, if the U.S. should “focus on Ghana’s economic problems, putting these above our admiration for Busia and our dismay at a military coup,” they might encourage “sensible solutions (if the NRC will take sensible action), [and] seek to achieve a condition in which democracy can be renewed.”204 201 Fred L. Hadsel, “Secret Telegram from U.S. Ambassador Fred L. Hadsel to the Secretary of State, January 20, 1972; Subject: Ghana Coup,” Telegram (Accra, January 20, 1972), RG 59 SNF 1970-1973; Box 2325, folder POL 23-9 Ghana 1/1/72, NACP. This telegram clips many articles and pronouns. I add them here for readability, hoping to distract the reader less than their absence might. 202 Ibid. 203 Ibid. 204 Ibid. 143 Hadsel chose the latter path, but not out of confidence that anything about Acheampong’s training made him a natural ally with the United States. Hadsel’s first impression of Acheampong and his colleagues on the National Redemption Council was that they appeared “woefully inexperienced in government administration.”205 They seemed united only by a common “disgruntlement over lack of promotions.”206 Still, in the brief biographies of NRC members that he cabled back to Washington and to other diplomatic posts across Africa, Hadsel revealed an unusual attention to the international sources of their military education. Acheampong, Hadsel acknowledged, graduated from the U.S. Command and General Staff College and “has complained about officers his junior being promoted ahead of him and of [former Chief of Defense Staff] Addo’s alleged preference for officers trained in [the] UK.”207 Lieutenant Colonel Chemogo D. Benni attended the Indian Military Academy, and had graduated from Ft. Leavenworth’s Command and General Staff College in 1969.208 Major Anthony H. Selarmey attended the U.S. Army’s Officers’ Advanced Armor Course at Ft. Knox, Kentucky in 1968.209 Major Kwame Baah earned his commission in India, and had served as “staff officer to defense adviser in Ghana’s embassies [in] London and Washington.”210 All these officers had received advanced training or been posted abroad, but they neither attempted to personify “professional” ideals of civil-military separation and Cold War allegiance to the West embedded in American assumptions nor was Ambassador Hadsel surprised that they did not. 205 Fred L. Hadsel, “Secret Telegram from U.S. Ambassador Fred L. Hadsel to U.S. State Department, January 14, 1972; Subject: Ghana Coup: Biodata on NRC Members,” Telegram (Accra, January 14, 1972), RG 59 SNF 1970- 1973; Box 2324, folder POL 23-9 Ghana, 1/1/72; Document: Accra 309, NACP. 206 Ibid. 207 Ibid. 208 Ibid. 209 Ibid. 210 Ibid. In an odd point of style, Hadsel includes no ranks. This is also different from most Ghanaian printed sources, which rarely include first names in even the most sympathetic references to military figures. ; Commissioning in India from Bennett, “Epilogue: Malcontents in Uniform,” 306. 144 In a conversation with the U.S. Defense Attaché one month after the coup, Acheampong remembered his military training in the U.S. warmly, and “proudly explained that most of the members of the NRC were graduates of US or UK schools.”211 Acheampong “emphasized Ghana’s continuing need for education opportunities of this kind,” and made special mention of the superiority of American military education, “noting that the preference for UK training imposed on the armed forces by former [Chief of Defense Staff] Addo was part of the past.”212 Such an endorsement by the new, American-trained leader of a troubled African state ought to have been the ultimate validation of America’s international military education and training programs, but it was not. It barely registered to American diplomats, scholars, or the Defense Department itself. The American ambassador immediately discounted Acheampong’s ability—he was “woefully inexperienced in government administration” and “completely uninformed on international relations and obligations”—and suspected his judgment—Hadsel would recommend sensible solutions, he said, but he doubted the NRC “would take sensible action.”213 For his part, Acheampong did not demonstrate the emotional attachment or political allegiance with the United States that American justifications of the program touted. He later told the Accra Daily Times that he began preparing a military takeover as soon as he returned from the United States.214 He rarely referred publicly to his American military education, even in the 211 Fred L. Hadsel, “Confidential Telegram from U.S. Ambassador Fred L. Hadsel to U.S. State Department, February 26, 1972; Subject: Defense Attache Courtesy Call on Chairman Acheampong,” Telegram (Accra, February 26, 1972), RG 59 SNF 1970-1973; Box 2323, folder POL 15 Ghana, 1/1/70; Document: Accra 12147, NACP. 212 Ibid. 213 Ibid.; Fred L. Hadsel, “Secret Telegram from U.S. Ambassador Fred L. Hadsel to the Secretary of State, January 17, 1972; Subject: Relations with New Ghana Regime,” Telegram (Accra, January 17, 1972), RG 59 SNF 1970- 1973; Box 2323, folder POL 15 Ghana 1/1/72; Document Accra 360.1-1972, NACP. 214 Bennett, “Epilogue: Malcontents in Uniform,” n. 11. 145 Ghana Armed Forces’ official newspaper. By 1977, his official biography made no mention of it, despite describing his other military posts in the 1960s in great detail.215 Instead, he quickly revealed that the he placed Ghana’s primary political, economic, and international concerns before his relationship with the United States—diplomatically or militarily. He proclaimed, “My belief in Pan-Africanism is total absolute,” including “total commitment to [the] aims and objectives” of the Organization for African Unity, while advocating a mix of continental and national self-reliance.216 He unilaterally postponed repayment and repudiated Ghana’s international debts, arguing, “We are jealous of our sovereignty which we would not like to see mortgaged to any power.”217 He restored diplomatic relations with the People’s Republic of China and several Eastern European states, including East Germany, and attempted to revive East German economic development projects Ghana had unilaterally terminated after the 1966 coup.218 In April 1972 he announced, “The National Redemption Council rejects any form of dialogue with apartheid South Africa, as long as that country sticks to its policy of racism.”219 “The time has come for us to stop trying to be second- rate Europeans,” he wrote in 1974. “Our mission is to become first-rate Africans.”220And like the military government of 1966, he was reluctant to shrink Ghana’s large armed forces, arguing that 215 General Kutu A. Acheampong: The Fifth Milestone; 13th January 1976 - 12th January 1977 (Accra: The Offfice of the Press Secretary to the Supreme Military Council, 1977), 286. 216 “Transcript of an Interview Granted by Colonel I. K. Acheampong, Chairman, National Redemption Council to Anthony Hugues, Editor of ‘Africa Magazine’, Paris--April, 1972 in ‘Speeches and Interviews by Col. I. K. Acheampong’, Vol I.,” Bound Collection, (April 1972), 89, ADM 5, Number 363, p. 85, PRAAD; “Transcript of an Interview with the Head of State, Colonel I. K. Acheampong, Chairman, National Redemption Council by Mr. Harri Czepuck, Correspondent of the ‘Horixont’, a Weekly Publication in the German Democratic Republic, February 23, 1973in ‘Speeches and Interviews by Col. I. K. Acheampong’, Vol II.,” Bound Collection, (February 23, 1973), 3, George Padmore Research Library, Accra. 217 “Interview with Acheampong by Czepuck, February 23, 1973,” 3; “Interview with Acheampong by Hugues, April 1972,” 87. 218 “Interview with Acheampong by Czepuck, February 23, 1973”; Bennett, “Epilogue: Malcontents in Uniform,” 309. 219 “Interview with Acheampong by Hugues, April 1972,” 89. 220 Ignatius Kutu Acheampong, “The Charter - A Guide to Redemption (Part 1),” Ghana Armed Forces News, September 1, 1974. 146 instead of adding to the unemployment rolls, Ghana could harness the army’s trained personnel and equipment for a new program of self-reliance called, “Operation Feed Yourself.”221 Ghana’s military leaders understood their unpopularity with respect to academic critiques of military rule abroad. The AF News published only one book review 1976: a critique of Austin’s Politicians and Soldiers in Ghana, which concentrated mostly on deriding University of Boston historian Valerie Plave Bennett’s “Epilogue: Malcontents in Uniform.”222 “It reeks with that ‘conservative’ American tendency to look at un-American situations with distorted vision,” wrote Tom Dorkenoo, the AF News’ editor. “The 318 page book has largely failed to give deep insight into the subject or subjects it set out to write about,” he continued, “yet it is a book for one to read, if only to know the minds of the authors and what academicians, Ghanaians and foreigners think of the years before and after the advent of the NRC-SMC Government.”223 In short, Acheampong revealed rather closely the same kinds of domestic political and economic concerns, with an equal understanding of the international nature of their origins, as previous and later Ghanaian governments. Acheampong’s year-long education at an American staff college made no obvious impression on either his own pronouncements, his willingness to condone American policies toward southern Africa, or on the United States’ diplomatic mission to Ghana. Likewise, America’s military assistance policy undertook little soul-searching, even after one of its own alumni demonstrated the program’s negative potential to produce tragic results. In 1976, Ambassador Shirley Temple Black reaffirmed the long-held American opinion on international military education and training grants to Ghana. Responding to Secretary of State Kissinger’s request that all foreign missions evaluate their states’ needs for American 221 “Interview with Acheampong by Hugues, April 1972,” 86. 222 Tom Dorkenoo, “Book Review: Politicians and Soldiers in Ghana, 1966-1972,” Ghana Armed Forces News, May 15, 1976, GAF DPR; Bennett, “Epilogue: Malcontents in Uniform” cited above. 223 NRC: National Redemption Council, the acronym for Acheampong’s ruling junta before 1975. The SMC, Supreme Military Council, superceded the NRC in 1975. Dorkenoo, “Book Review: Politicians and Soldiers in Ghana, 1966-1972.” 147 international military education and training grants (with an eye toward trimming the program), Black assured Kissinger that Ghana depended on American military training. The training reaped significant benefits for American interests, she argued, and professional military education specifically was the most useful for those reasons.224 Ghana most desired courses “which will enhance professional development,” she said, and assumed that they would give up all other training to hold on to their slots for Command and General Staff College and similar advanced education.225 Those courses were also the “most beneficial to US national interests,” she said, because “these are timed for the period during an officer’s career just prior to his possible assumption [to] key roles either in the military or in the government.” 226 The Ghana government “has planned ahead in its training program on the basis that US assistance could continue for some time,” and Black feared that Ghanaians would assume that cuts to the program would come from “political, rather than inflationary or budgetary” factors, as a form of American “retaliation for foreign policy actions along lines which have been well publicized recently in US press and abroad.”227 Should the Americans cut their military education and training budget, she feared, Ghana might turn to the U.K., Soviet Union, or Eastern Europe for training courses, which “would not be helpful in any way to US-Ghanaian bilateral relations.”228 Here, again, we see an American official projecting that Ghanaian participation in American professional military education served the Ghana Armed Forces’ corporate needs, 224 Henry A. Kissinger, “Confidential Telegram from Secretary of State to All American Diplomatic Posts, 3 March 1976, Subject: Changes in Foreign Military Training Program,” Telegram (Washington, DC, March 3, 1976), RG 59 CFPF 1973-1976; Document 1976State051768 in Electronic Telegrams, 1/1/1976 - 12/31/1976, NACP, http://aad.archives.gov/aad/createpdf?rid=45214&dt=2082&dl=1345. 225 Shirley Temple Black, “Confidential Telegram from Shirley Temple Black, US Ambassador to Ghana, to Secretary of State; 12 March 1976, Subject: Changes in Pricing of Foreign Military Training Program,” Telegram (Accra, Ghana, March 12, 1976), RG 59 CFPF 1973-1976; Document 1976Accra01906 in Electronic Telegrams, 1/1/1976 - 12/31/1976, NACP, http://aad.archives.gov/aad/createpdf?rid=24904&dt=2082&dl=1345. 226 Ibid.. Original text says: “... his possible assumptioknln key roles either in ...” Author assumes this is a typographical error. 227 Ibid. 228 Ibid. 148 secured American interests in Ghana’s government, and kept Ghana from seeking military assistance from the communist bloc. The Americans even closely managed which American schools they would fund for training grants: Black observed that the Command and General Staff College occurred at a critical juncture in the Ghanaian officer’s career—“just prior to his possible assumption of key roles either in the military or the government.” Black either failed or declined to acknowledge that Acheampong had followed precisely the short path from American staff college to a key role in government—coup leader and head of state. Within two months of this reply to Kissinger, Acheampong’s foreign policy so frustrated Black that she temporarily froze all new aid programs to Ghana and recommended her own recall to the United States to reevaluate American-Ghanaian relations.229 That she would still place such high confidence in international military education and training programs to serve both American and Ghanaian interests suggests that either an imagined or idealized logic underwrote that program. Despite the glaring failure of one American staff college graduate to so transform U.S.-Ghana relations according to that ideal, American and Ghanaian policymakers clung to those exchange programs. Even if Acheampong was an outlier rather than the desired outcome of international military education and training programs, the operation and justification for the international military education and training program changed little for the Ghanaian military or for American policymakers after 1972. The Ghana Armed Forces Staff College and Military Internationalism for Export One reason neither the U.S. nor Ghana overestimated the significance of Acheampong’s year at an American staff college was that before 1976, all senior Ghanaian officers completed 229 Shirley Temple Black, “Confidential Telegram from Ambassador Shirley Temple Black to Secretary of State Kissinger, April 27, 1976; Subject: Cancellation of Secretary’s Visit,” Telegram (Washington, DC, April 27, 1976), RG 59 CFPF 1973-1976; Document 1976State051768 in Electronic Telegrams, 1/1/1976 - 12/31/1976, NACP, http://aad.archives.gov/aad/createpdf?rid=67304&dt=2082&dl=1345. 149 staff college abroad.230 Since Nkrumah’s time, the Ghanaian Armed Forces had struggled to create a Ghanaian staff college. The school’s eventual formation in 1976 reveals many of the paradoxes between states’ faith in Military Internationalism to transcend national or corporate military identities and the practical difficulty for small states to rely on external (international) assistance programs to produce the equivalent of senior civil servants in a military government. Just a few years after opening, the Ghana Armed Forces Staff College’s “Ghanaianization” plan again reenacted the struggle to develop a specifically Ghanaian—or African, given the number of non-Ghanaian students there—institution. The staff college that resulted negotiated international military norms which it had inherited and which continued to be refreshed through ongoing training abroad, and national performance in the context of a military-run government. Since independence, no Ghanaian political or military leader questioned the importance of staff college training, but the expense of building a national staff college and the availability of staff college training abroad postponed the Ghana Armed Forces Staff College’s creation for over a decade.231 Kwame Nkrumah founded Ghana’s National War College in 1963, intending for it to serve all Africa. By uniting, he reasoned, small African states could manage the high costs of training and equipping their armies and resist being “drawn into making defence pacts with foreign powers which may endanger the security of us all.”232 Lack of funds stymied the National War College plan, but the school Nkrumah founded became the Junior Defense College, which has provided primary staff college training for Ghanaian lieutenants and captains 230 According to Addae, Ghana’s standards mirrored other Western militaries regarding staff college: usually an officer “cannot progress beyond the rank of Major until he has obtained further training in a military staff college.” Addae, History of Ghana Armed Forces: Military Organizations and Regiments, 3:253. 231 According to Addae, Ghana’s standards mirrored other Western militaries regarding staff college: Junior officers must complete a primary or junior staff college prior to promotion to Major. Usually an officer could not progress beyond the rank of Major without completing a senior staff college course. Ft. Leavenworth’s Command and General Staff College and the Ghana Armed Forces Staff College represented this type of training. Ibid. 232 Nkrumah, Africa Must Unite, 220; The Research and Development Department, Ghana Armed Forces Staff College: An Historical Perspective, 9. 150 since 1964.233 After the 1966 coup, the military government accepted more military training assistance from abroad both to demonstrate “the country’s reorientation to the west” while cutting Ghana’s military budget.234 It tabled the plan to build a Ghanaian staff college.235 After 1966, Ghanaian officers received staff college training in the U.K., U.S., Australia, Canada, India, Malaysia, Indonesia, and Pakistan, but after 1971, Commonwealth schools required Ghana to purchase tuition rather than receive training slots as grant aid.236 Before 1972, Busia’s government made no effort to fund the staff college plan, but the Acheampong regime revived it in January 1973. The Ghana Armed Forces Staff College accepted its first students in January 1977 in Teshie, alongside the Military Academy and Training School.237 Avoiding the cost of sending officers abroad was one significant reason Ghana revived the staff college plan in 1973, but the staff college was not strictly an insular national organization.238 Just as the Ghana Military Academy had, Ghana’s staff college became a center for pan-African military education. Four Nigerian officers joined the second Ghana Armed Forces Staff College course in 1978, and forty-one Nigerians had graduated by 1992.239 Starting in 1981, one Tanzanian officer joined each class. Later officers from Sierra Leone, Uganda and Zimbabwe attended Ghana’s staff college.240 In 1980, Ghana and Nigeria began exchanging faculty at their respective staff colleges; by 1984, two of each nation’s officers taught at the other’s staff college.241 The staff college’s international character revealed Ghana’s increased participation, not segregation, from ideals of global military integration and demonstrated Ghanaians’ comfort as 233 The Research and Development Department, Ghana Armed Forces Staff College: An Historical Perspective, 9. 234 Addae, History of Ghana Armed Forces: Military Organizations and Regiments, 3:254–255. 235 Ibid. 236 The Research and Development Department, Ghana Armed Forces Staff College: An Historical Perspective, 15. 237 Ibid., 33–34. 238 Ibid., 18. 239 Ibid., 84–102. 240 Ibid. 241 Ibid., 38. 151 full participants as both a source and subject of international military education. Acheampong’s 1975 address to the Ghana Military Academy’s graduating class that included the first Liberian graduate expressed “the honor of training both officers and cadets from other friendly African countries,” and “renew[ed] our offer to all friendly African countries; our doors are still wide open and we shall feel honored to continue to share our experience with them.”242 In the same year, as Ghana struggled to find a site for the staff college and develop a curriculum, Ghana’s Chief of Defense Staff Lieutenant General Lawrence Okai asked the Canadian and British armed forces to provide faculty and staff.243 More than financial reasons forced Ghana to seek British and Canadian help. Okai graduated from the British staff college at Camberly in 1966, and intended for Ghana’s school to meet “Commonwealth and international standards . . . as this would enable the Directing Staff [the faculty] to be exchanged between Ghana and other Colleges of Commonwealth countries.”244 It also equipped Ghanaian graduates to lead international contingents of United Nations soldiers in peacekeeping missions abroad, which Ghana had begun again in earnest in 1974.245 From the beginning, the Ghana Armed Forces intended for its staff and graduates to participate in staff assignments and exchanges with other nations, assuming equality even with the British and Canadian schools that sent faculty to Ghana. Just as Ghana’s domestic economic policy of “flexible self-reliance” merged national and international influences, financing, and participation, the Ghana Armed Forces Staff College exemplified the dynamic flow of local and global in military education which forms one aspect 242 “Address by the Head of State and Chairman of the NRC [Acheampong] on the Occasion of the Passing Out Parade for Intake Number Sixteen - Ghana Military Academy - 15th March, 1975,” Speech (Ghana Military Academy, Teshie, 15 1975), 251, RG 14/4/507 page 245-251, PRAAD. 243 The Research and Development Department, Ghana Armed Forces Staff College: An Historical Perspective, 19. 244 Ibid., 31. 245 Messages from the UN tasking Ghana to fill staff positions specifically requested “staff trained” officers. Unknown, “Message from Secretary General’s Office to Permanent Representative of Ghana to the United Nations; 29 May 1981; Subject: Staff Officer Requirements” (New York, May 29, 1981), AG-20; S-0356 UNIFIL Subject Files; Box 11; Folder 6, UN ARMS See also box S – 0332 – 007 file 15 for a 1976 request. Maj. A. A. Enninful, “To the War Zone and Back,” Ghana Armed Forces News, July 31, 1974, GAF DPR. 152 of Military Internationalism. The campaign for “Ghanaianization” in the late 1980s reveals some of this dynamism. One former Commandant recalled the “initiative to Ghanaianize the Staff College completely” began in response to the “heavy” Canadian and British influence over the college and its curriculum.246 Ghanaianization was about more than just finishing the decades- long process of replacing British influence from Ghana’s armed forces, but that was an important first step. At the senior staff college’s founding in 1976, a seven-person Commonwealth Military Advisory team, headed by a British Colonel who also served as the Deputy Commandant, augmented the small Ghanaian faculty.247 During the initial negotiations in 1975, Britain requested that a British officer should fill the Deputy Commandant’s position, “to prevent the British officers from coming under direct command of Ghanaian authorities.”248 Over the next decade, the British influence declined, but never disappeared. By 1987, the Ghanaian faculty had grown to eleven and the British contingent had shrunk to two—but a British Colonel still filled the Deputy Commandant position.249 At least one former Staff College Commandant hated that structure. The Ghanaian Commandant was the unit commander; in his absence, the Deputy Commandant performed the Commandant’s duties, including commanding Ghanaian officers, but he was technically not subject to Ghanaian laws. “It was not proper,” the former Commandant insisted, “The deputy therefore was performing the Commandant’s duties, so he was performing Ghanaian duties [but] he [was] not subject to Ghanaian law.”250 “When we did the review,” he recalled, “we 246 Achel, Interview with Brigadier Achel, 12. 247 Actually, there were 9 men on the team, but only 7 served as faculty, including the Deputy Commandant. The Research and Development Department, Ghana Armed Forces Staff College: An Historical Perspective, 30. 248 Ibid., 31. 249 Unknown, “Personalities,” The Flame: The Magazine of the GAFCSC, 1988, GAFCSC Library. 250 Achel, Interview with Brigadier Achel, 18. 153 maintained him, but this time not as the deputy commander, but as the head of studies—[an] academic [position].”251 “The review” occurred in 1991, when the Commandant, Brigadier I. G. M. Kpeto closed the senior division of the Ghana Armed Forces Staff College for one year to rewrite its syllabus, reorganize its faculty, and expand its facilities.252 In the 1980s, a former commandant recalled, “It was a very strong challenge . . . We were teaching our Ghanaian armed services as distinct from both America, Britain, and Canada. These were the places where we were attending the staff colleges, of course, also India. We were attending Indian Staff College, Pakistani Staff College. So all these things, we have people training here, people training there. Which personality are we going to teach? We have to reach a common one.”253 To stress Ghana’s difference, or at least its independence, Kpeto directed the Ghana Armed Forces Staff College’s one year sequestration. A staff officer recalled, “We wanted to see a lot more of Ghana asserting itself. Its own strategy, its own policies, not copying American strategy, or Britain. They are good for learning, but if the Ghana Armed Forces had to go to war, we would fight here, not outside, so let’s try and know our own territories, and use our own technology to develop our military.”254 Ghanaianization did not signal an end to the prior faith, partly borne out of Ghana’s inequality with larger Western militaries, that all professional education was equally valid, regardless of the source. Instead, it entailed Ghanaians adopting co-equal status with other staff colleges, considering Ghana a legitimate partner in providing military education and training for 251 Ibid. 252 The Research and Development Department, Ghana Armed Forces Staff College: An Historical Perspective, 41 The junior division of the staff college remained open, as did some institutes which trained civilian personnel. In order for my terminology to match between American staff colleges (which generally serve mid-grade officers like Majors and Lieutenant Colonels), I maintain the term “Staff College” to refer only to the senior division of the Ghana Armed Forces Staff College. 253 Achel, Interview with Brigadier Achel, 17. 254 Ibid., 16. 154 international officers, and assuming an intellectual cohesion based on particularly Ghanaian experiences. Ghanaianization was also Africanization. Another former faculty member from the late- 1980s recalled, “The idea of the staff college, the whole idea of the Ghana Armed Forces Staff College was started by Osagyefo Kwame Nkrumah. You wouldn’t believe it, he started it. . . The idea was to train Ghanaian and other African countries.”255 By 1989, he recalled, “When you go to our staff college, you have Tanzanians and Ugandans there, and in fact, nobody pays anything. All those countries, they don’t pay anything. You see, Ghanaians have that attitude, our sister countries let us help them . . . So you have a police man, you have a fireman, you’ve got a Nigerian, You’ve got somebody from East Africa . . . there was a man from Rhodesia...”256 Throughout the 1980s, Ghana and Nigeria expanded their student exchanges and increased the number of faculty exchanges between the Ghanaian and Nigerian Staff Colleges from one to three.257 Meanwhile, it accepted officers from Tanzania, Zimbabwe, Uganda, Sierra Leone, and even two officers from Transkei in 1992, just prior to that state’s re-absorption into South Africa.258 Ghana’s official historians and its former faculty remembered the staff college as the fruit of broad international military cooperation, an indigenous institution of higher learning in the service of the national military, and a pan-African source for professional development and education. Just as it offered itself as an alternative to dependence on former colonial powers for other African militaries’ benefit even while it employed faculty from its own former colonial master, we cannot disentangle global forces from local conditions. Kwame Nkrumah began the Staff College idea as a Ghanaian initiative to serve pan-African ends, but throughout its long 255 Michael Abana, Interview with Col Abana, Audio recording, July 18, 2012, 20, Author’s possession. 256 Ibid., 18. 257 Achel, Interview with Brigadier Achel, 19. 258 The Research and Development Department, Ghana Armed Forces Staff College: An Historical Perspective, 104. 155 period of gestation, the Staff College could never remove itself from global trends in international military educational exchanges—nor did it ever wish to. Nigerian students joined the Staff College’s third class in 1979; Sierra Leoneans and Tanzanians joined the fifth course in 1981. Neither was its national character a given: during the mid-1970s, despite an agreement with the Ahwereasehene—sealed with six bottles of schnapps and one carton of beer—that the Staff College would be located sixty kilometers north of Accra near Awerease village, local politics and economics dictated that the existing barracks at Teshie would become the school’s permanent—while officially temporary—home.259 Meanwhile, British, Canadian, and Nigerian officers complemented the Staff College faculty. So also did Ghanaian officers who had attended Staff Colleges in Pakistan, the U.S., U.K, Canada, and India. Ghana’s Staff College evolved at what Jose Moya calls “the meeting of the extremes: global forces and local conditions, of the world and the village.”260 Even in the late 1980s, as the faculty strove to “Ghanaianize” the syllabus and faculty, the Staff College never rejected internationalism at the expense of the local. Here again, in Moya’s words, “the nation-state may offer the optimal unit of analysis” to study international policies, but it is “a faulty one for examining the actual process.”261 Instead, what Ghana’s officers called “Ghanaianization” appears even more internationally integrated than before, only with fewer non-African labels than before. 259 Abana, Interview with Col Abana, 5; The Research and Development Department, Ghana Armed Forces Staff College: An Historical Perspective, 22. 260 Moya, Cousins and Strangers, 4. 261 Ibid., 394. 156 Conclusion If we Africans are serious about achieving our national emancipation, we must first of all have it clear in our minds that we are capable of surviving on our own; that all it would need is proper utilization of the natural and human resources within our countries. Any other assistance from any other source should be considered of secondary value. The harrowing Amin years should sometimes teach us a few lessons . . . A good part of the world ignored Uganda then. Aid only came in trickles. In spite of the atrocities during the noted years, Uganda boomed back. If the country was able to survive under anarchy, what would have been a situation under organized and enlightened leadership? Surely it would have been better. – Major Benon Tumukunde, Uganda, in The Flame: The Magazine of the Ghana Armed Forces Staff College, 1989.262 Ghana’s leaders accepted grants for military training from around the world for different reasons. On one hand, when President Kwame Nkrumah and the military officers who succeeded him sought education and training assistance abroad, they were filling a specific need for technical assistance Ghana did not yet have the capacity to provide for itself. Nkrumah and military leaders after him also publicly accepted that global norms for military professionalism and ideal civil-military relationships made the military a “modern” institution in society. But as the case of the three lots of textbooks donated to the Ghana Military Academy demonstrates, political considerations always hung over internationally-available education and training resources. How internationally trained military personnel interacted with the Ghanaian state after independence reveals the contradiction between global ideals of the professional military embodied in Military Internationalism and loyalty to the nation inherent in postcolonial nationalism. Programs which sponsored military education and training for potential leaders became the cornerstone of America’s security assistance relationship with Ghana because they merged assumptions about the modernizing power of transnational education with the political challenge 262 Tumukunde, “Inside a ‘Colonised Mind,’” 72. 157 of asserting American leadership in places where decolonization limited the United States’ freedom to intervene. Sponsoring military education and training offered a flexible, expandable response to Ghana’s needs that did not also tax the United States’ relationship with its other allies. In 1963, the Office of the Director of Military Assistance’s five-year plan for Ghana coincided with the Secretary of Defense’s expanding Informational Program for Foreign Military Personnel worldwide. Both plans affirmed the long-term, cost-effective value of international education and training alone. Even after the 1960s, when scholars and policymakers no longer assumed that political and economic development occurred in sequential stages dependent first upon the psychological modernization of a core of elites, the actual operation of American military assistance to Ghana changed little. When the products of American international military education and training seemed to both fulfill and contradict the ideals, as in the case of Colonel Ignatius Acheampong’s rise to power and violent demise, the ideology and rhetoric underwent surprisingly little change. Meanwhile, military rule persisted and Ghana’s economy struggled. Ghana’s participation in international military education and training never implied contentment with dependence on expertise it could not provide. From the start, Nkrumah intended Ghana to lead a self-sufficient, pan-African security coalition, and he expected Ghana’s military schools to instruct soldiers from across Africa. His aggressive participation in United Nations peacekeeping in the Congo represented that ambition, and caused tension with Great Britain and the United States, whose neo-colonial meddling he blamed for Brigadier Michel’s airplane crash in 1961. The Ghana Military Academy and Ghana Armed Forces Command and Staff College sustained Nkrumah’s dream, but the Armed Forces’ effort to “Ghanaianize” the staff college demonstrated the fluidity of roles between consumer of international military education and provider. By the late 1980s, as the epigram above suggests, a Ugandan military 158 officer attending the Ghana Armed Forces Command and Staff College could use the college’s annual journal to express his recipe for African independence from “The Colonised Mind.”263 By then, Ghana continued to accept grant aid to send promising military officers to staff colleges around the world, but through its own staff college offered professional education and training that Major Tumukunde equated with “surviving on our own.”264 When military rule came to Ghana, the assumption that military education and training yielded psychological results over the long term insulated the U.S.’s specific education and training program with Ghana from significant ideological scrutiny. The U.S.’s overall education and training program survived fierce Congressional inspection in the late 1960s for the same reason. Western observers did not initially consider Ghana’s foray into military rule in 1966 a fatal blow to constitutional rule or the death of civil-military ideals, but subsequent coups in 1972, 1979, and 1981 obliged American assistance planners to reconsider their programs’ intent and capacity to help Ghanaian society. As we shall see, the United States adapted its rhetoric when describing the specific results military assistance could achieve in Ghana, but even great political change in Ghana never undermined the fundamental assumption that international education yielded individual transformations that would, over time, transform entire societies. 263 See Ngugi wa Thiongo, Decolonising the Mind. 264 Tumukunde, “Inside a ‘Colonised Mind,’” 72. 159 Chapter 3: “I Think They Would Be Better Off If We Took Them On A Tour Of Disney World:” Continuity and Change in International Military Education and Training Introduction: Momentum or Inertia? On Friday, June 22, 1990, in a small conference room in the Dirksen Senate Office Building where two witnesses sat before three senators, Senator Patrick Leahy (D-VT) posed triumphantly before a report of thirty-five pages, stapled in the middle. “I understand none of you has had the chance to read it,” he boasted modestly, “so let me just read part of the findings.”1 Indeed not, the report did not exist a week before and Leahy specifically requested it be sequestered until the 24th.2 He knew it so well because he had personally commissioned this General Accounting Office study a year prior, he had received a private summary briefing a month earlier, and it confirmed what he had thought for years: “IMET [International Military Education and Training] is a program that runs on momentum or inertia,” he declared. “Until this GAO study I requested, I do not think that anybody had looked at IMET since the early 1970s.”3 He was partly right.4 The conditions the report exposed, including insufficient measurement and the tendency for America’s undemocratic allies to accept eagerly U.S. military education and training grant funds, had persisted since the early 1970s. In fact, they had persisted far longer than that. 1 Patrick J. Leahy, Senate Hearings Before the Committee on Appropriations; Foreign Operations, Export Financing, and Related Programs Appropriations, Fiscal Year 1991; H. R. 5114 (Washington, DC: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1990), 909; General Accounting Office, Security Assistance: Observations on the International Military Education and Training Program (Washington, DC: National Security and International Affairs Division, GAO, June 14, 1990). 2 General Accounting Office, Security Assistance: Observations on the International Military Education and Training Program, 7. 3 Leahy, Senate Hearings Before the Committee on Appropriations; Foreign Operations, Export Financing, and Related Programs Appropriations, Fiscal Year 1991; H. R. 5114, 909. 4 Leahy himself had questioned Sec. of State Shultz extensively on American military assistance, including IMET, in 1986. George P. Shultz, Foreign Assistance and Related Programs Appropriations for 1986 (Senate: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1985), 122–138. 160 Despite Leahy and his GAO report’s long-festering criticism of the program that funded education and training for foreign military personnel in the U.S., both continued to endorse the program because neither doubted the ideology behind it. The GAO accepted that international military education and training programs successfully exposed participants to “U.S. values, citizens, institutions, and commitment to human rights.”5 They both cited a February 1990 study by the Defense Security Assistance Agency as evidence, repeating the premise that “the IMET Program is one of the most cost-effective programs for pursuing U.S. foreign policy and national security objectives.”6 As he questioned Lieutenant General Charles Brown of the Defense Security Assistance Agency later in the hearings, Leahy quoted that GAO report, which in turn cited a Defense Security Assistance Agency article, which was itself an expanded version of the testimony the Brown gave to Leahy’s Senate Appropriations Committee one year earlier.7 Brown stated in 1989, and repeated in 1990: “IMET has been generally recognized as our most cost-effective foreign assistance program. IMET is a people program that establishes valuable personal relationships and lines of communication with foreign military personnel, many of whom rise to prominent positions.”8 “Foreign military students learn our ways and are exposed to our values of support for democracy and personal integrity based on pride in military professionalism,” Brown said, “They, in turn, help spread these values in their countries by 5 General Accounting Office, Security Assistance: Observations on the International Military Education and Training Program, 22. 6 Ibid., 23. 7 Lt Gen Charles Brown, Foreign Operations, Export Financing, and Related Programs Appropriations for 1990; Hearings Before a Subcommittee of the Committee on Appropriations; House of Representatives; Part 5 (Washington, DC: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1989), 516; The report was published as a scholarly article in Spiro C. Manolas and Louis J. Samelson, “The United States International Military Education and Training (IMET) Program: A Report to Congress,” DISAM Journal of International Security Assistance Management 12, no. 3 (Spring 1990): 12–47. 8 Lt Gen Charles Brown, Foreign Operations, Export Financing, and Related Programs Appropriations; Senate Hearings Before the Committee on Appropriations, Fiscal Year 1990; Part 1 (Washington, DC: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1989), 194 Emphasis in original. Lt Gen Charles Brown, Senate Hearings Before the Committee on Appropriations; Foreign Operations, Export Financing, and Related Programs Appropriations, Fiscal Year 1991; H. R. 5114 (Washington, DC: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1990), 933. 161 sharing their experiences with military and civilian counterparts.”9 That revolving door of Congressional evidence also exemplified the persistent assumption—that international military training produced psychological transformations—that had justified the program for three decades. Leahy and the GAO’s candid critique of the IMET program’s “inertia” and its inability to measure its own progress were only the last in a series of periodic attempts throughout the 1970s and 1980s by Congress, the Department of State, and the Department of Defense to evaluate the international military education and training program. This chapter shows the results of those attempts, and argues that despite occasionally pointed criticism, over that period, few deviated from the long-held faith in international military training’s potential to transform visiting military officers psychologically—at a low price. As the 1960s closed, academic and diplomatic justifications for American military assistance policies evolved away from modernization theorists’ desire to transform the “developing world” and embraced the more decentralized and frugal Nixon Doctrine. Political intervention by African, Asian, and Latin American militaries seemed the norm in the early 1970s, and the American government struggled to rationalize its military assistance policy against ongoing military incursions against democracy and civil rights. Detente with the Soviet Union and China made the Nixon Doctrine—which expected America’s allies to assume greater responsibility for their own security—look more like a tactical retreat than a total rout.10 In 1970, Nixon’s special Peterson Committee—named after the Bank of America president who chaired it—encouraged more private investment overseas, recommended multilateral institutions such as the World Bank replace unilateral American economic assistance, and exalted the power of 9 Brown, Foreign Operations, Export Financing, and Related Programs Appropriations for 1990; Hearings Before a Subcommittee of the Committee on Appropriations; House of Representatives; Part 5, 516. 10 John A. Hannah, “New Directions in Foreign Aid for the 1970’s,” American Journal of Agricultural Economics 52, no. 2 (May 1, 1970): 303; Ninkovich, The Wilsonian Century, 234. 162 “market forces.”11 “If the goal is economic development,” the Committee reported, “the issue is one of efficiency, not ideology.”12 Peterson also re-emphasized the long-held official justification that international military education and training made foreign militaries “self-reliant.”13 Meanwhile, the United States continued to support “bureaucratic-authoritarian” states like Brazil, Argentina, and South Korea and “Third World policemen states” such as Turkey, South Africa, Iran, and Indonesia with military assistance and training, while Washington interfered as little as possible in their democratically suspect domestic politics.14 The “New Approach to Foreign Aid” no longer considered massive physical, economic, or ideological intervention in most of the global South essential for U.S. security, but international military education and training programs remained an inexpensive way to preserve American diplomatic initiative, just in case.15 Times changed. Even before Jimmy Carter’s election, “internationally recognized human rights” became a major concern in American assistance policy.16 To the extent that it tolerated other powers’ spheres of influence, detente was incompatible with the moral universalism inherent in American traditions of liberalism.17 Meanwhile, in response to austerity in the early 1970s and against challenges to military assistance for regimes that violated their subjects’ human rights, the State Department, Defense Department, and Congress attempted to evaluate 11 Rudolph A. Peterson, U.S. Foreign Assistance In The 1970s: A New Approach; Report to the President from the Task Force on International Development (Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, March 4, 1970), iv, 3, 6, 22. 12 Ibid., 18. 13 Ibid., 12. 14 Westad, The Global Cold War, 197; Guillermo A. O’Donnell, Modernization and Bureaucratic-Authoritarianism: Studies in South American Politics, Politics of Modernization 9 (Berkeley: Institute of International Studies, University of California, 1979); Hyug Baeg Im, “The Rise of Bureaucratic Authoritarianism in South Korea,” World Politics 39, no. 2 (January 1, 1987): 231–57. 15 O’Donnell, Modernization and Bureaucratic-Authoritarianism; Westad, The Global Cold War. 16 See also, Mazower, Governing the World, chap. 11; A. Glenn Mower, Human Rights and American Foreign Policy: The Carter and Reagan Experiences, Studies in Human Rights, no. 7 (New York: Greenwood Press, 1987); Sarah B. Snyder, Human Rights Activism and the End of the Cold War: A Transnational History of the Helsinki Network, Human Rights in History (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2011). 17 Thomas Borstelmann, The 1970s: A New Global History from Civil Rights to Economic Inequality (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2012), 204; Ninkovich, The Wilsonian Century, 234. 163 American aid programs’ effectiveness. When it came to programs to sponsor foreign military training in the United States, they repeated old justifications, invented new ones, and ensured that the scope and purpose of these programs changed little for the next twenty years. Numerous and persistent military regimes in the Africa, Asia, and Latin America challenged American diplomacy. Some scholars argued—and policymakers agreed—that that military rule impeded national development in the global South, without admitting that U.S. military aid was responsible for the prevalence or persistence of military rule in the states the U.S. supported.18 Others noted that American allies were often highly modern, or possessed high organizational strength, but fell far short of democracy.19 When evaluating American military assistance programs, however, the State and Defense departments maintained their faith that programs which demonstrated in person the American model of civil-military relations had the most promise to undo the trend toward military rule. Curiously, for example, Ghana’s 1972 coup by a U.S.-trained army officer prompted little self-reflection in American policymakers. Even scholars who lamented the persistence of military rule noted only tangentially that Ghana’s new military head of state was a Command and General Staff College graduate.20 To some extent, this apathy was a symptom of a general decline in interest in West Africa among American foreign policymakers in the 1970s.21 But State Department officials and scholars also implicitly accepted what applied to many other newly decolonized as well: Ghana’s domestic political situation had largely Ghanaian explanations, and in Ghanaian foreign policy, U.S. aid competed 18 Lefever, “The Military Assistance Training Program,” 361; Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies, 193. 19 O’Donnell, Modernization and Bureaucratic-Authoritarianism, 99–103. 20 Bennett, “The Motivation for Military Intervention”; Bennett, “Epilogue: Malcontents in Uniform.” 21 Westad, The Global Cold War, 197. 164 with other immediate issues like resolving its international debt and ending Apartheid in South Africa.22 In the mid-1970s, in response to congressional, then presidential, concern over America’s image abroad and its responsibility to defend “internationally-recognized human rights,” the training program quickly adapted and adopted the new human rights paradigm. Despite scant evidence of its success, its administrators continued to boast of its long-term success and continued low cost.23 These criteria enabled the International Military Education and Training program to weather ideological and budgetary scrutiny in the late 1970s and throughout the 1980s, often recycling year after year the same justifications that had worked for decades. The persistence of military rule in Ghana never seriously threatened American justifications for its ongoing military training and education grant program there. In the 1970s, scholars and policymakers clashed over what caused military rule, and whether American influence perpetuated it, but neither side expected military rule to go away.24 Throughout the period, and despite scant supporting evidence, Defense and State Department planners continued to recommend international military education and training programs as an ideal method of eliminating military rule from the global South.25 They did so partly because the specific International Military Education and Training program was relatively inexpensive, it conformed to new trends in American foreign policy deemphasizing direct intervention, and later proved 22 Gutteridge, “The Political Role of African Armed Forces: The Impact of Foreign Military Assistance,” 103; Price, “Military Officers and Political Leadership”; Price, “A Theoretical Approach to Military Rule in New States.” 23 Borstelmann, The 1970s; Snyder, Human Rights Activism and the End of the Cold War; Mazower, Governing the World; Ninkovich, The Wilsonian Century. 24 Ernest W Lefever, “Arms Transfers, Military Training, and Domestic Politics,” in Arms Transfers in the Modern World, ed. Stephanie G. Neuman and Robert E. Harkavy (New York: Praeger, 1979), 279–291; Huntington, The Soldier and the State: The Theory and Politics of Civil-Military Relations, chap. 4; Mazrui, “Soldiers as Traditionalizers”; A. G. G. Gingyera-Pincywa and Ali A. Mazrui, “Regional Development and Regional Disarmament: Some African Perspectives,” in Arms and African Development: Proceedings of the First Pan- African Citizens’ Conference, ed. Frederick S. Arkhurst, Praeger Special Studies in International Economics and Development (New York: Praeger, 1972), 32. 25 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1980, 1979, 16, ASI: 79 Fiche 7144-13, U.S. Government Documents, Anshutz Library, University of Kansas. 165 compliant to Congressional attempts to wend their concerns with human rights into American military assistance policy.26 International Military Education and Training was the United States’ only program for military assistance to Ghana, but when these anticipated outcomes failed to materialize, Defense and State Department policymakers re-emphasized the intangible, long- term, and unaccountably cost-effective benefits of international military education that had made modernization theorists embrace it years earlier. Often, though, American military assistance planners exploited their old faith to offer new rationalizations for international education. Annual justifications for the United States’ small International Military Education and Training grants to Ghana dynamically adapted to rapid political change in Ghana after its 1979. IMET promised first to uphold the ideal of military professionalism in Ghana, then to temper the radicalism of military-led revolution in Ghana, then to rebuild the strained diplomatic relationship between Ghana and the U.S. that followed Flight Lieutenant Jerry J. Rawlings’ rise to power. Without ever changing the underlying faith in the power of international military education and training to transform individuals, American planners continually revised their estimates for the corporate, political, and diplomatic benefits that IMET promised to obtain in Ghana. Either through “inertia,” or “momentum,” between the 1950s and the 1980s, the same fundamental assumption that made foreign military training a natural instrument for modernization theorists persisted: life among American communities yielded lasting psychological benefits for foreign visitors that over time transformed their home states and 26 More on this in Chapter 3. See Donald M. Fraser, “Human Rights and U.S. Foreign Policy: Some Basic Questions Regarding Principles and Practice,” International Studies Quarterly 23, no. 2 (June 1, 1979): 174–85; Snyder, Human Rights Activism and the End of the Cold War, 9; Peterson, U.S. Foreign Assistance In The 1970s: A New Approach; Report to the President from the Task Force on International Development; United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1980; Jimmy Carter, “Presidential Directive NSC-30; Subject: Human Rights,” February 17, 1978, Federation of American Scientists Intelligence Resource Program, http://www.fas.org/irp/offdocs/pd/index.html. 166 reinforced American influence there. This version of Military Internationalism endorsed international military training because it appeared to be sound foreign policy. Best of all, compared to the rest of American foreign aid, this “people-to-people” program was always a bargain. The Informational Program in 1971: Inertia, Ideology, and Military Internationalism Congress, the State Department, or the Department of Defense did not resolve philosophical and jurisdictional conflicts over who was best equipped to formulate, execute, and supervise American assistance programs. By 1972, officials in the State Department struggled to reassert their relevance and image, lamenting, “Congress tends to approach executive branch programs with suspicion, intensified by the impression of vast, essentially superfluous numbers of personnel and lack of leadership within the bureaucracy.”27 Congress and the American public neither cared nor supported security assistance (“just a euphemism for foreign aid”), and they considered the State Department “particularly ineffectual.”28 Neither the Peterson Committee, Nixon’s de-centralized foreign policy doctrine, nor internal attempts to validate and measure American military assistance programs resolved these conflicts in the early 1970s. In this turbulence, the simple assumptions which first commended international military education and training persevered, perhaps because of their simplicity. By the mid-1970s, few scholars of Western and African relations approved of the prevalence of military rule in Africa, but this did not imply an academic consensus on how American military assistance specifically influenced or encouraged military rule. Huntington 27 Unknown, “Department of State Research Study; Subject: Proceedings of Conference On Security Assistance; December 1, 1972,” Report (Washington, DC, December 1, 1972), 7, RG 59 SNF 1970-1973; Political and Defense; Box 1848, folder DEF 19 1/1/70, NACP. 28 Ibid. 167 specifically argued that there while was no correlation between American military aid and military involvement in politics, there was also no evidence that professional training at schools like Fort Leavenworth had reduced the likelihood of military intervention either.29 “Military aid and military training are by themselves politically sterile,” he argued. “They neither encourage nor reduce the tendencies of military officers to play a political role.” 30 Princeton’s Ernest Lefever agreed: “A disproportionate amount of attention has been given to conflicting claims about the indoctrination effect, good or bad, of US programs on the political attitudes of individual officers,” he wrote, “when in fact, empirical evidence of [the Military Assistance Program’s] impacts on individuals is sparse and generally ambiguous.”31 Before 1971, the Departments of Defense and State had not seriously attempted to find this evidence. Proponents of military education and training programs accepted the lack of objective methods for measuring their effectiveness to justify their continuation throughout this period. In June 1971, the Nixon Doctrine’s new emphasis on decentralizing American military assistance inspired G. Warren Nutter, the Assistant Secretary of Defense for International Security Affairs, to request the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff to review the effectiveness of military assistance programs that brought military elites from the poorer states to the United States for training and education.32 Defense Secretary Melvin Laird tasked the Department of State’s Inspector General of Foreign Assistance to perform an external review, and solicit individual services’ comments. Specifically, the inspector general team examined the “Informational Program and Orientation Tours”—those portions of the military education and training programs 29 Huntington, Political Order in Changing Societies, 193. 30 Ibid. 31 Lefever, “The Military Assistance Training Program,” 361. 32 G. Warren Nutter, “Memorandum from G. Warren Nutter, Assistant Sec. of Defense for International Security Affairs, to the Chairman of Joint Chiefs of Staff, July 7, 1971; Subject: Training of Foreign Military Personnel Under the Security Assistance Program.,” Memorandum, (July 7, 1971), RG 330; Accession Number UD/WW 158; Box 2; Folder 35, “Review of Military Assistance Training, Informational Program and Orientation Tours, 23 December 1971,” NACP. 168 explicitly intended to demonstrate those “significant facets of American life” to visiting military members at American Army, Navy, and Air Force facilities. The study’s conclusions reiterated the psychological and political impact of foreign military trainees’ visits to the United States, but expressed frustration over the program’s decentralized execution, inability to measure its effectiveness, and lack of follow-up with alumni of American military training and education programs.33 These objections were entirely predictable outcomes of evaluating a foreign policy program rationalized entirely by faith in universal attitudes and behaviors mythologized in transnational military camaraderie. They raised some practical objections, but inspectors Neil Campbell and Elliot Strauss from the State Department also reaffirmed the program’s overall promise. Their report, and the reactions it prompted, revealed Military Internationalism’s elemental outlines, especially its durability, as it shaped American military assistance programs through the rest of the 1970s. The 1971 evaluation dealt with international military education theoretically; an actual case of a graduate of American military education who overthrew Ghana’s government in 1972 prompted very little reflection, and the evaluation offered no new basis to question the underlying faith either in 1972 or for the rest of the decade. Quite the opposite, the faith expanded to incorporate America’s newly concocted devotion to human rights. As if undermining their effort from the start, Campbell and Strauss admitted in 1971, there was “no yardstick by which the success of the [Informational Program] can be measured.”34 As both a symptom and cause of that problem, little data on graduates existed. 33 Neil H. Campbell and Elliot B. Strauss, “Memorandum from Neil H. Campbell and Elliot B. Strauss, Office of the Inspector General of Foreign Assistance, U.S. Department of State, to Anthony Faunce, Acting Inspector General, Department of State, November 15, 1971, Subject: Review of Military Assistance Training - Informational Program and Orientation Tours,” November 15, 1971, RG 330; Accession Number UD/WW 158; Box 2; Folder 35, “Review of Military Assistance Training, Informational Program and Orientation Tours, 23 December 1971,” NACP. 34 Ibid., 2. 169 When successfully located and interviewed, graduates of American programs were “apt to tell enquirers what [they] wished to hear.”35 The programs clearly created personal relationships and “a friendly feeling for the United States,” but the investigators also noted, “there are a number of horror stories, Ali Sabry of Egypt, Qadhafi of Lybia [sic] and the President of Peru, all of whom profited by instruction at U.S. military schools but can scarcely be termed friends of the United States.”36 Whatever results flowed from the international military education and training program and related programs to serve foreign military visitors, these analysts admitted that they came cheaply. In 1972, 12% ($61.2 million) of the $500 million national budget for military assistance programs paid for international education and training for foreign visitors. The Informational Program consumed just 2% ($1.37 million) of that segment, and just one quarter of one percent of the entire military assistance budget.37 Partly because they consumed so little investment in the first place and partly because they were the most visible American assistance programs to target states, such as Ghana, they avoided significant ideological scrutiny during the cycles of budget cutting of the late 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s. They did not remain above criticism, however. The 1971 inspectors’ report claimed that “virtually everybody” they contacted acknowledged that the program needed stronger central authority to govern the types of lessons and interactions the various schools’ Informational Programs transmitted, but the report’s specific recommendations belie that observation. The report’s introductory cover letter even 35 Ibid. 36 Ibid., 3. 37 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1981, 7, 503; Campbell and Strauss, “Memorandum from Neil H. Campbell and Elliot B. Strauss, Office of the Inspector General of Foreign Assistance, U.S. Department of State, to Anthony Faunce, Acting Inspector General, Department of State, November 15, 1971, Subject: Review of Military Assistance Training - Informational Program and Orientation Tours,” 4. 170 acknowledged that any improvements to the program must not destroy its “voluntary and spontaneous nature.”38 In fact, it was these characteristics—voluntary, spontaneous, and decentralized—that made the Informational Program so representative of the nexus between official faith in the power of the average American to transform visiting elites and the average American’s disdain for official academic and diplomatic niceties in favor of their own, local version of Americanism. Sponsor families—those American families who assisted visiting military members by welcoming them into their communities, hosting them in their homes, or helping them navigate a difficulty with a base or community office—were the most useful. The inspectors admitted that the sponsor “usually becomes the [foreign military trainee’s] guide, philosopher, and friend” with respect to the various aspects of the military post and U.S. military life.39 Visits to American homes were the program’s “most effective portion.” “It is here that the trainee becomes disabused of some of his preconceptions of American life gained from the films and TV, and it is here that perhaps the strongest and most lasting friendships are formed,” the report claimed.40 Trainees received “the most accurate view of life in America as it is actually lived” through these home visits.41 The inspectors noted that sponsors were “sometimes recruited through the initiative of the foreign training officer, sometimes by civic groups such as the Chamber of Commerce, the mayor’s office, or volunteer women’s groups.”42 Further, the inspectors acknowledged, American families had been receiving foreign military visitors into their homes long before the Informational Program began in 1963, and “would probably continue 38 Campbell and Strauss, “Memorandum from Neil H. Campbell and Elliot B. Strauss, Office of the Inspector General of Foreign Assistance, U.S. Department of State, to Anthony Faunce, Acting Inspector General, Department of State, November 15, 1971, Subject: Review of Military Assistance Training - Informational Program and Orientation Tours,” cover letter. 39 Ibid., 11. 40 Ibid. 41 Ibid. 42 Ibid., 10, 11. 171 if the program should disappear.”43 The official sponsor family program merely put a formal label on an attitude or collection of behaviors toward international military students that American families and communities, including “volunteer women’s groups,” already exhibited. Without saying so, Neil Campbell and Elliot Strauss acknowledged the “imagined world” of transnational connections and alternate paths toward international cooperation that undergirded American military education policy in general. The State Department’s Inspector General team published its evaluation of ninety-five Department of Defense-run military education and training programs in November 1971, and offered suggestions to become more efficient or effective.44 They recommended, for example: better centralization of different schools’ programs, with a single Washington agency directing all programs; that the Informational Program carefully “lessen the entertainment element” of its programs and tours; that staff levels for officers who administered the Informational Program at various schools and bases should be standardized across the services; that U.S. agents abroad carefully screen each prospective student for English language proficiency, since “if his proficiency is indeed so low that he cannot keep up, his frustrations may prevent the United States from winning a friend”; and that services keep better track of their foreign graduates’ professional and personal progression.45 The Secretary of Defense forwarded the State Department’s findings to individual services and geographic commands in December 1971, and requested the services’ responses to the State Department’s findings. In their responses, those agencies that were closest to the foreign officers jealously defended their freedom of action, they felt free to interpret the intent and application of the Nixon Doctrine according to their own initiative, and considered the programs’ decentralization 43 Ibid., 7. 44 Ibid., 2. 45 Ibid., 13, 7 No such screening occurred for accompanying spouses. Local communities often filled that need, as we will see in Chapter 4. 172 necessary for their success. In other words, the officers who applied the American policy of training foreign military personnel and exposing them to “significant facets of American life” had their own conception of what made those facets significant and how best to pass their lessons along to visitors. They bristled at the suggestion that they needed further oversight from Washington. Naturally, Defense Department agencies resisted criticism from the State Department inspectors, but they combined geopolitical savvy with a more internationalist sense of the benefits of human-to-human contacts to parry critiques. For example, the State Department report singled out for criticism an annual “deluxe treatment tour” of the United States for graduates of Brazil’s and Argentina’s National War Colleges. Army General George V. Underwood, the commander of U.S. Southern Command, who was responsible for all interaction between American and Latin American militaries, blasted the report’s implication. First, he argued, the Argentines and Brazilians considered the tours “an integral, prestigious part of their study curricula” at their own war colleges, and had specifically requested that the U.S. include all Brazilian and Argentine war college students in them.46 In other words, the South American officers themselves considered a tour of American military, industrial, and government sites an essential aspect of integrating their own national military education with international content— especially if it was at the United States’ expense—and this American general did not wish to disrupt that union of national and international purposes. Second, Underwood feared that eliminating these popular tours “could produce a host country reaction counter-productive to the intent of the Nixon Doctrine which advocates the maintenance of US influence and rapport with 46 “Unclassified Message from USCINCSO (Southern Command) to Secretary of Defense, 3 January 1972, Subject: ‘Dept. of State Inspector General Foreign Assistance (IFA 430945, ’Review of Military Assistance Training - Information Program and Orientation Tours",” January 3, 1972, RG 330; Accession Number UD/WW 158; Box 2; Folder 35, “Review of Military Assistance Training, Informational Program and Orientation Tours, 23 December 1971,” NACP. 173 foreign military personnel, especially those who are in a position to influence national policies."47 To him, decentralizing national diplomacy required increasing, not decreasing, the range of contacts between lower-level officials of all countries. The “corrective actions” the State Department recommended for saving money could not be accomplished by their suggested dates, Underwood argued, “Unless arbitrary, unilateral action is desired,” and he desired none of it.48 Further, the commander warned ominously against clumsy attempts to reduce the size or scope of these tours “in order to minimize predictable unfavorable host country reaction to yet another case of what may strike them as paternalistic advice.”49 To Underwood, he knew best how the Informational Program affected its targets, and he deflected these attempts to curb his initiative by cannily citing traditional Latin American critiques of overbearing American behavior the State Department was sure to recognize. In directing the study, Assistant Secretary of Defense Nutter invoked the Nixon Doctrine’s emphasis on “enhancing the capacity of nations receiving U.S. military assistance to assume their own defense burdens” to justify close examination of the Informational Program, presumably to find cost savings.50 The U.S. Southern Command commander deflected this critical examination by re-interpreting the Nixon Doctrine back to Washington—in essence claiming the authority to decide for himself the strategic balance between costs, measurable results, and intangible psychological benefits in the form of Military Internationalism which could be counted on to reap benefits sometime in the future. Despite the supposed, unmourned death of modernization theory, many of the same older, deeper assumptions about the nature of American society and its power to bring about 47 Ibid. 48 Ibid. 49 Ibid. 50 Nutter, “Memorandum from G. Warren Nutter, Assistant Sec. of Defense for International Security Affairs, to the Chairman of Joint Chiefs of Staff, July 7, 1971; Subject: Training of Foreign Military Personnel Under the Security Assistance Program.” 174 sweeping, global transformations that had originally crystallized around modernization theory survived among those Americans who administered foreign military training programs.51 Those who did often displayed a key paradox of Military Internationalism: its participants freely adjusted its ideological content the further one traveled from the national centers of foreign policy and toward the points of interaction between individuals of different nations. Americans such as General Underwood, or, as we shall see, the Commandant of Fort Leavenworth’s Command and General Staff College, or the volunteer sponsors from the Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People International, felt empowered to reinterpret the ideological content of programs that produced these interactions according to their own understanding of the national and humanitarian stakes involved. In this case, General Underwood perceived that a rash, Washington-directed plan to slash a popular Informational Program perk—as a grand U.S. tour for 200 to 300 senior South American military officers seemed to be—violated his own understanding of the goals and American military assistance policy in Latin America. Proximity to those South American officers informed his perspective on the exchange program, but his comfort objecting to the proposed cuts in the terms he did demonstrates that he exercised oversight from an ideological level that he felt empowered to define for himself. The U.S. Air Force’s Director of Military Assistance and Sales, Colonel Atlee R. Ellis, also objected to several of the State Department’s recommendations in ways that further reveal Military Internationalism’s local, versus national, manifestations. Specifically, Ellis rejected the report’s recommendation that the Department of Defense should centrally administer all Informational Programs and “provide the Military Departments with central policy guidance.”52 51 Immanuel Maurice Wallerstein, “Modernization: Requiescat in Pace,” in The Capitalist World-Economy: Essays, Studies in Modern Capitalism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979), 132–37; Latham, Modernization as Ideology, 8. 52 Atlee R. Ellis, “Memorandum from Atlee R. Ellis, U.S. Air Force, Deputy Directory of Military Assistance and Sales to Defense Security Assistance Agency (Comptroller), 23 December 1971, Subject: IGA Report, ‘Review of Military Assistance Training - Informational Program and Orientation Tours,’” December 23, 1971, RG 330; 175 Program standards that ignored the diversity of foreign officers and the Air Force-run schools they attended would be awkward and, perhaps, humiliating, Ellis argued. It was more than a case of one size not fitting all. “The vitality of the program,” Ellis responded, “stems from the initiative and the ingenuity of individuals in the field who have the task of making the program function.”53 Neither these inspectors nor the Department of Defense seemed to understand the partnership between the official version of the Informational Program (IP) and the communities which supported American military schools. “In many cases,” Ellis wrote, “the financial obligations for picnics, luncheons, invitations to sporting events, visits to local industries, courts, newspapers, labor meetings, and other activities leading toward the achievement of IP objectives are borne by non-government, local and civic agencies providing the service for the trainees.”54 In Kansas City, as we will see, local agencies took even more initiative than that. Day-to-day operations of diverse Informational Programs at military training facilities around the country were too closely connected with informal community-sponsored activities to make it possible to separate the two for the purpose of standardization or, it would seem, regulation. Just as the State Department inspectors recognized with the sponsor family program, which preceded and would likely outlive the official Informational Program, Ellis’ objection to standardizing the program from a central location corroborates that paradox of Military Internationalism. Ellis only appeared to advocate the “wider use of private initiatives” the Peterson Committee recommended as a “New Approach to Foreign Aid.”55 Assumptions about the impact of life in American communities on foreign military visitors preceded the Peterson Committee, just as they had modernization theory. Official justifications and administration of Accession Number UD/WW 158; Box 2; Folder 35, “Review of Military Assistance Training, Informational Program and Orientation Tours, 23 December 1971,” NACP. 53 Ibid. 54 Ibid. 55 Peterson, U.S. Foreign Assistance In The 1970s: A New Approach; Report to the President from the Task Force on International Development, 3. 176 international exchange programs grafted themselves onto community-based projects that already existed, in many cases. New approaches in foreign policy adopted these assumptions, but did not create them. That official comprehension grew up around official programs in such a way that official programs were rarely in sole charge of the functions, funds, or ideology of military exchanges at the community level. The first serious attempt to evaluate how the specific aspect of American military assistance programs which paired official training curricula with the extra-curricular “lessons” in American culture and values revealed both continuity and adaptability. The International Military Education and Training program not only survived the decline of “high modernization” in the late 1960s, it kept alive many of the assumptions about the transformative power of personal contact between Americans and visiting military personnel. American foreign policy de-emphasized direct military involvement in the target states and policymakers and scholars increasingly accepted that military regimes were bound to persist among American allies. As a result, faith in the transformative power of international military education and training and the Informational Program seemed as relevant as ever. Even when the Defense Department and State Department acknowledged that there was no way to measure the programs’ effectiveness, they never seriously questioned their basic assumptions. Instead, they revealed an ongoing faith in the power of personal transnational contacts to undergird American foreign policy. Military Internationalism, Human Rights, and the Indestructible International Military Education and Training Program Through the 1970s and again in 1979, Congress reassessed the purpose and execution of American military assistance programs, increasingly concerned with American military assistance for military regimes who violated their citizens’ human rights, especially in Southern 177 Africa and Latin America. Congress also routinely questioned whether the U.S. had any evidence that its military assistance programs were worthwhile. They usually received similar answers: visiting military officers obtained an appreciation for the “American way of life” that made them less likely to abuse human rights, and American programs yielded long-term benefits far beyond the cost of their training. Specific variations on that theme over the years reveal different reasons why this was so, however. With savvy, the Defense Security Assistance Agency modified the rhetorical shell protecting international military education and training to deflect criticism connecting this specific assistance program and human rights violations abroad. In the mid-1970s, the specific administrative and legislative definitions around international military training congealed, but the programs’ ideological justification remained as fluid as ever. In 1976, Congress extracted the U.S. training program from the larger Military Assistance Program and renamed it International Military Education and Training (IMET).56 After 1975, the IMET program grew, from $29 million in 1975 to $56 million in 1985.57 Between 1979 and 1982, IMET made up over 25% of the entire U.S. military assistance budget, but as military assistance grew to $9 billion in 1985, IMET returned to below 7% of the total.58 Before 1976, about half of the 430,000 students the U.S. claimed to have trained since 1950, including a majority of Southeast Asian and Latin American students, received training at home or in nearby countries, especially U.S. schools in the Panama Canal Zone.59 That training consisted of a full range of technical, administrative, and combat skills, and even after the Canal 56 Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, para. 2.2 Policymakers used the phrase “international military education and training” for over a decade, but it became an official title in 1976. I use the acronym IMET when describing the specific DoD/State-sponsored program, not the concept of international training. 57 Manolas and Samelson, “The IMET Program: Report to Congress,” 32. 58 Ibid. 59 Lefever, “The Military Assistance Training Program,” 87. 178 Zone school moved to the United States in 1984, exposure to “the American way of life” as prescribed by the Informational Program never really applied.60 Most other IMET students— including all but 8 of 1250 from West Africa before 1973—attended training programs in the United States.61 In the 1970s, most foreign military students attended American courses in advanced professional education (especially staff colleges for officers and senior enlisted persons, such as the Command and General Staff College), and “resource management” (logistics, finance, administration, vehicle, equipment, and aircraft maintenance).62 The Departments of State and Defense administered the IMET program jointly, and did not require a clear military objective as a condition for any state’s participation. While there was no requirement for military education and training to occur at military facilities, it usually did. In the mid-1970s, defenders of education and training programs had to distinguish their program from other forms of American military assistance that had caused a string of humanitarian disasters, especially in Latin America. Reiterating their cost effectiveness was one strategy. In March 1976, testifying before the House Committee on International Relations, Lieutenant General Howard M. Fish, director of the Defense Security Assistance Agency, stated, “Training of foreign military personnel is the most lasting value of military assistance and provides a simple, effective and relatively inexpensive contribution to the military strength of the free world.”63 The $32 million budget for international military training and education—about ten percent of the total for military assistance—“multiplied manyfold” in results. The program augmented U.S. foreign policy “by providing a significant opportunity for communicating with 60 Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, 24; On how The School of the Americas straddles the line between overseas “military” training and U.S.-based “professional” training, see Gill, The School of the Americas. 61 Technically, the IMET program did not formally exist before 1976, but both policymakers and scholars used the term IMET before then. I generally avoid doing so, using the term only when discussing the specific program. . Lefever, “The Military Assistance Training Program,” 87. 62 Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, 23–26. 63 Howard M. Fish, International Security Assistance and Arms Export Control Act of 1976. Hearings Before the Committee on International Relations (Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1976), 126. 179 the military leadership of other countries, especially the emerging leaders and youthful elements of the developing nations,” Fish argued.64 “The participants share the benefits of their experience with their countrymen when they return home to positions of responsibility and influence,” he added. “Thus, while improving indigenous professional skills and competence, training at the same time serves the broadest US military and political interests and in all probability provides the greatest return on any portion of our military assistance program.”65 Behind any strategic or ideological justification for international military education and training, claims that it was inexpensive, cost-effective, and provided “a good return on investment” had survived since 1959 with little variation. How to calculate that return remained elusive. Under Secretary of State for Security Assistance Carlyle E. Maw repeated to the House Committee on International Relations the standard justifications for American training and education aid: “Our request for foreign military training amounts to only $30 million”; “The returns far exceed the costs”; and “Education of foreign military officers in American command, management and defense doctrine can contribute to personal international ties and understanding which will outlast any of the military equipment now being transferred to foreign governments.”66 Congresswoman Helen S. Meyner (D-NJ) pressed back. “Even though this is relatively a small amount, $30 million when we deal as we do here at the Federal level in billions, why is this such good public relations?” she asked.67 64 Ibid. 65 Ibid. 66 Carlyle E. Maw, International Security Assistance and Arms Export Control Act of 1976. Hearings Before the Committee on International Relations (Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1976), 4. 67 Fish, International Security Assistance and Arms Export Control Act of 1976. Hearings Before the Committee on International Relations, 23. 180 “Well, I think the understanding that foreign military people obtain of the United States and our way of life is a very worthwhile investment,” Maw replied.68 “We bring promising officers to this country for broad training and experience in the United States. This has a lasting benefit.” 69 He went on, “My own feeling is that it is a tremendously valuable investment, something akin to the Fulbright scholarships where we bring people to the United States and give them exposure to our ways and methods and then they go back and take an important part in their own governments.”70 Meyner was incredulous. “You say they learn about our way of life. It seems to me they learn from us how to kill each other. I think they would be better off if we took them on a tour of Disney World, they would learn more about our way of life.”71 “Well, that is perhaps a bit of a callous approach,” Maw answered. “Most of these people are administrative. The facts of life are that in many countries of the world the military are the conservative forces helping maintain stability in their country.”72 “Isn’t it possible that we may be contributing by doing this to the decline of democracy in Latin America?” Meyner persisted. “Don’t some of these people go back and overthrow their governments? Look what is happening in Argentina. Look at what did happen in Chile. This is what concerns me about this program. At least if they are going to have it, shouldn't they pay for it?”73 Maw deflected, “I don’t know that the people trained in the United States are the ones that go back and try to overthrow governments. That would make an interesting study. I would 68 Ibid. 69 Ibid. 70 Ibid. 71 Ibid. 72 Ibid. 73 Ibid. 181 think the training here would be one that would lend to stability rather than instability. I would prefer to have the military training in this country rather than in Eastern Europe, for example.”74 Meyner raised a familiar concern: how was international education and training different from the other military aid the U.S. had sent (or was still sending) abroad. Maw parried with familiar ambiguity: nobody really knew the specific results of the program, they agreed that it did good, and it provided a good return on investment. He also equated international military training with purely civilian educational exchanges, as if the Fulbright program and IMET program served the same ideological purpose. In fact, defenders of international military education regularly fell back to this position, holding up cultural exchange and internationalism as self-evident results. Later that day, as he fed John E. Murphy of the Agency for International Development softball questions on America’s concerns with foreign aid, Congressmen John H. Buchanan, Jr. (R-AL) illustrated a similar willful misunderstanding of American assistance programs that seemed to protect them from serious scrutiny: “Don’t you think it is true,” Buchanan asked Murphy, “that there is a great public misunderstanding of what development assistance is all about?”75 “There is no question about it, Mr. Buchanan,” he replied. “You put your finger right on the nub of the problem—the lack of understanding on the part of the American people and the taxpayers of exactly what we are trying to do with the funds that we request for development assistance.”76 This 1976 conversation echoed those of 1961, arriving at a similar conclusion: If they understood, Buchanan and Murphy agreed, then the American people would agree that this was money well-spent because it matched their assumption that living among and learning from 74 Ibid. 75 International Security Assistance and Arms Export Control Act of 1976. Hearings Before the Committee on International Relations (Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1976), 38. 76 Ibid. 182 Americans provided visitors lessons in modern politics, economics, technology, and culture that, Americans assumed, visitors would carry home with them. This assumption, fulfilled at low cost, had changed little from when the Draper Committee had articulated it in 1959, and survived the rise and decline of the modernization theorists, and recurred at Congressional hearings periodically throughout the 1970s and 1980s. Congressional discussions about the past, present, and future of international military education in the late 1970s repeated similar questions about the potential negative consequences of American military training, its “return on investment,” and how it fit into larger U.S. foreign policy. In hearings before the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations in April, 1978, Under Secretary of State for Security Assistance, Science and Technology, Lucy Wilson Benson repeated, “This program supports foreign policy objectives by providing an effective and relatively inexpensive contribution to the military strength and leadership of certain countries.”77 She claimed that this professional training was “shifting in emphasis” to “broader fields of leadership training and resource management for senior military officers and junior and middle grade officers having leadership potential.” 78 Now, she said, training at “US military schools, e.g., Naval Command, Army Command and General Staff, and Air Command and Staff Colleges,” focused on leadership and professionalism, rather than training mechanical and military skills, but this was not entirely accurate.79 Especially in Africa, as the Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs Richard M. Moose, Jr., testified, the line between “technical” and “professional” training was never clear. “Our proposed international military education and training programs this year will emphasize 77 International Security Assistance Programs: Hearings Before the Subcommittee on Foreign Assistance of the Committee on Foreign Relations, United States Senate, Ninety-Fifth Congress, Second Session on S. 2846 To Amend the Foreign Assistance Act of 1961 and the Arms Export Control Act, and for Other Purposes (U. S. Senate: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1978), 45. 78 Ibid. 79 Ibid. 183 the technical training of African military officers in our military schools,” he stated.80 Yet “the bulk of these funds will be used to provide training in professional management rather than equipment-oriented training.”81 Recipient states, in other words, had their own purposes for consuming American military assistance. Even the program’s three official objectives (improving international relations, teaching human rights, and improving national self-reliance) encompassed a wide variety of American military schools. Given this vagueness, the first principle—that life among Americans could transmit the most important lessons of all—still reigned. As the 1970s wore on, some in Congress and Presidents Ford and Carter increasingly emphasized such ideological outcomes for American foreign policy. In his 1975 article “The United States in Opposition,” ambassador to India and future Senator Daniel Patrick Moynihan defended American liberal internationalism and economic liberty against increasingly threatened political and civil liberties abroad.82 He announced to the world, and likely earned President Ford’s nomination to United Nations ambassador in appreciation, “It is time that the American spokesman came to be feared in international forums for the truths he might tell.”83 Neither Moynihan nor Ford was first to champion what later became the most distinguishable aspect of Carter’s foreign policy.84 Even Henry Kissinger accepted that values, in one form or another, had always been a central concern of American foreign policy, and that most Americans considered the amoral pursuit of power very un- American.85 The State and Defense Departments anticipated increased Congressional scrutiny of military assistance programs’ spotty record of supporting dictators in the mid-1970s, and 80 Ibid., 12. 81 Ibid. 82 Daniel P. Moynihan, “The United States in Opposition,” Commentary 59, no. 3 (March 1975): 41. 83 Ibid., 42; Mazower, Governing the World, 309. 84 Snyder, Human Rights Activism and the End of the Cold War, 9. 85 Ninkovich, The Wilsonian Century, 234. 184 responded by touting their cost-effectiveness. Without irony, they also reformed the mandate for international military education and training to stake a claim as a primary method of instructing an American version of “internationally recognized human rights.”86 Doing so came naturally, since the original assumptions about what made military education and training in the United States already affirmed the enduring value of human-to-human contact, and Americans’ particular excellence at it. At least on paper, encouraging human rights became equal to the program’s other main purposes of encouraging effective and mutually beneficial relations between the U.S. and target states and improving those states’ ability it utilize their own resources (which might include defense articles the U.S. had sold them). In 1978, Congress amended the Foreign Assistance Act of 1961 to forbid all military assistance—including IMET grants—to states which engaged in “a consistent pattern of gross violations of internationally recognized human rights” and made “increas[ing] awareness of nationals of foreign countries participating in such activities” one of the IMET program’s three main objectives.87 Even the new emphasis on “human rights issues as part of this leadership training” that Under Secretary Benson cited blurred lines between theory and practice in international assistance. The Department of Defense took until 1985 to update its directive on the Informational Program to reflect the added emphasis on “internationally recognized human rights,” but included this emphasis in its rehearsed and recycled repertoire of justifications for the international military education and training program routinely after 1978.88 86 John N. Irwin II, “Secret Memorandum (Draft) For the President from the NSC Undersecretaries Committee and Undersecretary of State John N. Irwin II Subject: Study of Security Assistance (NSDM 76),” Memorandum (Washington, DC, December 5, 1970), RG 59 SNF 1970-1973; Political and Defense; Box 1848, folder DEF 19 1/1/70, NACP; Unknown, “Department of State Research Study; Subject: Proceedings of Conference On Security Assistance; December 1, 1972.” 87 Public Law 95-384, 95 Congress, Session 2, an Act: To Amend the Foreign Assistance Act of 1961 and the Arms Export Control Act to Authorize International Security Assistance Programs for Fiscal Year 1979, and for Other Purposes. Short Title: International Security Assistance Act of 1978., 92 Stat, 1978, 732, 736, http://heinonline.org/HOL/Page?handle=hein.statute/sal092&id=784&div=&collection=statute. 88 U.S. Department of Defense, “DoDD 5410.17 1 March 1985.” 185 As Congress debated the International Security Assistance Act of 1978 that eventually prevented U.S. military assistance to regimes who violated human rights, President Carter directed the Pentagon to review the policies and procedures governing U.S. training of foreign military students. This study intended to ensure the program followed a coherent rationale, that it reflected changing American foreign policy objectives, and allocated funds according to larger military and political priorities.89 The General Research Corporation published its thorough, if uninspiring report in March 1979. Like the 1971 review, this one included the standard articles of faith about the psychological impact of training in the United States on foreign military visitors, on the program’s benefits for American influence abroad, and it recommended vague policy changes to make the program more responsive to various inputs. From a different angle, however, this report reiterated in stunning detail how American political and diplomatic assumptions behind international military education interacted with individual military schools and training facilities and with local communities to imagine a set of psychological outcomes in target audiences that mirrored American foreign policy objectives. All of these variables interacted in specific locations (schools, bases, communities, etc.), but the logic of the overall system envisioned a universal process of transformation to create the desired outcome because the definitions surrounding American military education and training programs were so pliable. Finally, the report revealed the primacy that American policymakers gave to national formation as the desired outcome of its international military training and education program. But in the processes it describes, nationalism was only an immature form of Military Internationalism. National actors provided only the initial conditions for the transformative power of the educational experience in the United States. The desired policy-level outcome of 89 Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, 86. 186 nationalism failed to recognize that American and foreign individuals themselves determined the actual psychological impact of the international exchange. The Defense Security Assistance Agency, which commissioned the 1979 study of international military education, considered its justification self-evident, and the report revealed familiar critiques. First, the study recognized (as we have), “the rationale for IMET [International Military Education and Training] appears not to have been uniform, vacillating in time from one concept to another.”90 This report attempted to devise a standard rationale, as well as a standard method for prioritizing allocations, but even in its pragmatic introductory summary, it repeated its broader faith in the United States’ ability to transform military visitors psychologically. “All IMET serves some specific and legitimate military purpose within the armed forces of the trainee’s country,” the report claimed, and “IMET is not a cultural exchange program, although the exchange in cultural values inherent in bringing foreign and U.S. trainees together may be an additional benefit.”91 This exact phrase occurs repeatedly in Congressional documents over the next decade, usually adding, “an additional cost-free benefit.”92 On the other hand, since most of the training occurred in the United States, English became trainees’ second language, “opening the door to Western literature well beyond military subjects.”93 Even when attempting to be pragmatic, these observers waxed philosophical. This attempt to quantify the benefits of professional military education acknowledged that even the term “professional” defied quantification. U.S. policymakers had been telling one another that their international military education and training programs emphasized “professional” courses, such as staff colleges, over mere “technical” training, but by 1979, there 90 Ibid., i. 91 Ibid., ii. 92 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1980, 16. 93 Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, ii. 187 was still no clear definition of what made some military training “professional,” and some not.94 The CRS acknowledged, “A precise definition of the term ‘professional military training’ is not available at the U.S. Government interagency level, and there are varying views as to exactly what is meant.”95 To some officials, the term implied “postgraduate education of the type to be had in civilian institutions”; to others, the term included “certain courses of instruction for officers, particularly higher level courses, such as command and staff or war college.”96 Clearly staff colleges deserved the distinction, but there were also numerous other courses in the United States which were “difficult to so differentiate, and their arbitrary classification appears to serve no real useful purpose.”97 It might be more meaningful to simply define professional military education as “that training designed to provide or enhance recipients’ leadership”—not a difficult standard to argue.98 At best, only a very broad definition for “professional military education” would be feasible, the report suggested. “Better still,” it recommended, “for purposes of IMET, no definition at all.”99 Officers from “the less sophisticated countries have little need for what might be termed war college-level professional military training,” the report concluded, since their own training bases did not “produce personnel sufficiently trained to absorb higher level training.”100 These analysts’ struggled to come to terms with what made “professional training” count as “professional,” or even useful, for foreign visitors, and revealed part of the paradox of 94 See, for example, U.S. Department of Defense, “DoDD 5410.17 15 January 1965”; Benson in International Security Assistance Programs: Hearings Before the Subcommittee on Foreign Assistance of the Committee on Foreign Relations, United States Senate, Ninety-Fifth Congress, Second Session on S. 2846 To Amend the Foreign Assistance Act of 1961 and the Arms Export Control Act, and for Other Purposes; On Ghana’s specific uses for “professional training,” see Black, “Confidential Telegram from Shirley Temple Black, US Ambassador to Ghana, to Secretary of State; 12 March 1976, Subject: Changes in Pricing of Foreign Military Training Program.” 95 Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, 69. 96 Ibid. 97 Ibid., viii. 98 Ibid., 73. 99 Ibid., 72. Emphasis is mine. 100 Ibid. 188 Military Internationalism. Not only was it impossible to clearly define “professional training” in a way that included both American and foreign assumptions, they decided it was best to avoid defining it at all. What was professional about any American training course would speak for itself, they assumed, because it was the environment of the course itself that was transformative, not the content of the training. Walt W. Rostow had said in 1961, in essence, that international military training was too important to be left to the generals. In 1979, the Congressional Research Service recommended against letting the definition of “professional” interfere with the intent of professional military education for foreign visitors—especially ones from “the less sophisticated countries.” In this paradox of Military Internationalism, definitions were not only changeable, but their very presence hindered the possibility for interchange. From the point of view of the recipient countries, a rigid set of American definitions limiting which schools were available for grant tuition may also have restricted their ability or willingness to receive this grant aid. Indeed, the purpose of international military education and training, as the U.S. saw it, was rarely to produce any specific military objectives at all. By legislation, the program’s three purposes were to encourage mutual relations between the U.S. and client states, to provide military training to help them utilize their own military equipment effectively in order to become self-sufficient, and “to increase the awareness of foreign nationals of basic issues involving internationally recognized human rights.”101 This report’s conclusions about “the less sophisticated countries’” inability to absorb the “higher level training” in some American courses and the legislative mandate to “increase awareness” regarding human rights also reveals the paradoxical relationship between the ideal versus the actual militaries in question and the ideal versus the actual states involved. As Ghana’s ongoing participation in American military 101 Ibid., viii. 189 education and training programs throughout its period of military rule shows, Americans’ commitment to Military Internationalism tolerated remarkable diversity in client states’ domestic political and economic development or military sophistication. While the language in this particular report sounds condescending, the larger paradox of Military Internationalism was that it accepted considerable discontinuity between ideal political forms, ideal civil-military relationships, and those forms actually in place in client states. Their version of Military Internationalism did not hold client states to particularly high standards of governance because they considered Military Internationalism itself the method through which to transform those states. To some extent, the American attitude was one of tolerating friendly dictatorships abroad, even those which scholars legitimately considered harmful to democracy and justice in the global South.102 But from another perspective, the Americans responsible for executing this particular aspect of U.S. foreign policy continued to believe, as they had for two decades, that their program would be the mechanism through which democracy or justice might come to those states, via the military. Conflict over the centrality of the nation-state underlay the assumption that international military education and training yielded impressive, if vague, benefits. In part reflecting 1970s-era tolerance of bureaucratic authoritarianism, the 1979 report revealed a bipolar attitude toward national cooperation for its own sake versus for the sake of power. “In the simplest of terms,” its authors asserted, “the world is a collection of nation states . . . The nation state remains the 102 Some notable examples include Holden, “The Real Diplomacy of Violence”; Henry Bienen, “Armed Forces and National Modernization: Continuing the Debate,” Comparative Politics 16, no. 1 (October 1, 1983): 1–16; Fitch, “The Political Impact of U.S. Military Aid to Latin America: Institutional and Individual Effects”; Westad, The Global Cold War; Arlinghaus, Military Development in Africa; Kolko, Confronting the Third World; Chomsky, American Power and the New Mandarins; Joseph P. Smaldone, “U.S. Arms Transfers and Security Assistance Programs in Africa: A Review and Policy Perspective,” in Arms for Africa: Military Assistance and Foreign Policy in the Developing World, ed. Bruce E. Arlinghaus (Lexington, MA: D.C. Heath, 1983), 179–220; Robert M. Rosh, “Third World Militarization: Security Webs and the States They Ensnare,” The Journal of Conflict Resolution 32, no. 4 (December 1, 1988): 671–98; Wiley, “Militarizing Africa and African Studies and the U.S. Africanist Response”; Bienen, The Military and Modernization; Tom Wicker, “A Theological War,” Diplomatic History 20, no. 3 (1996): 445–49. 190 primary actor in the world, despite the greater ease of international travel and communication, despite greater interdependence between nations, and despite the advocacy in some quarters for a more interdependent world.”103 The U.S. was a nation-state “seeking to survive in a world system animated by considerations of power,” so the U.S. must combine its power with other nations “in order to ensure its own survival.”104 Foreign military personnel attended U.S. military training institutions to “acquire information and insight . . . on which to base a decision as to the practicality of cooperation with the U.S. on military matters.”105 Therefore, “When a foreign country agrees to send its military personnel to be trained by the U.S., it casts a vote of confidence in the U.S. and its military institutions . . . When the U.S. offers training to foreign military personnel on a grant basis, it demonstrates a continuing real and active interest on the part of the U.S. in the national security of the foreign country.”106 Further, since IMET aid was a grant program, the U.S. maintained some authority over which individuals could receive the training.107 According to these justifications, considerations of state power and national interest sustained these programs, so their effectiveness rested on how well they achieved these goals. Questions of modernity and the institutional connection between poverty and development became even more pressing in the 1970s, but relieving poverty or bringing modernity to the global South are notably absent from this 1979 explanation of the intent of American military assistance.108 The way the IMET program depended on a visiting individual’s personal conversion to faith in American political, economic, and social institutions provided an 103 Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, 12. 104 Ibid., 13. 105 Ibid., 14. 106 Ibid., iii. 107 Ibid., iv. Other foreign military personnel purchased tuition at American military schools as part of the Foreign Military Sales program, which were not considered military assistance, and followed different legislative rules (even if the individuals’ experiences at American schools and bases was similar. 108 Martha Finnemore, “Redefining Development at the World Bank,” in International Development and the Social Sciences: Essays on the History and Politics of Knowledge, ed. Frederick Cooper and Randall M. Packard (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1997), 220. 191 alternate mechanism to conform to new directions in foreign policy in the 1970s which tolerated some bureaucratic-authoritarian regimes while de-emphasizing some aspects of state power— such as the nagging persistence of military governments among American allies. Even as the discourse of aid shifted to de-emphasize state-based projects and embrace relieving individual poverty as a condition of assistance, the IMET program continued to declare that its original genius was to transform individuals, who in turn modernized their societies’ proto-national military institution. Policymakers in 1979 still could not comprehend how to measure the success of international military education and training according to nation-based criteria. They accepted as evidence that “large numbers of students that friendly foreign governments have been willing to commit to the armed forces of the U.S. for training and the number of countries willing to adopt, in large measure, the tactics, techniques, and weaponry of the U.S. are indicative of the success of IMET and prior grant programs.”109 This is a weak endorsement, however, considering that few other states offered comparable assistance, and the U.S. specifically recruited client states away from those that did—usually from the communist bloc.110 In 1976, Secretary of State Kissinger specifically asked all foreign embassies whether reductions in U.S. IMET aid would encourage those countries to look to China or the Soviets—and the U.S. Ambassador from Ghana replied that it probably would.111 The large number of graduates of American military training courses who had advanced to positions of prominence in their home militaries or home states offered another way to demonstrate the programs’ success.112 On the other hand, many 109 Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, 15. 110 Ibid., 23. 111 Kissinger, “Confidential Telegram from Secretary of State to All American Diplomatic Posts, 3 March 1976, Subject: Changes in Foreign Military Training Program”; Black, “Confidential Telegram from Shirley Temple Black, US Ambassador to Ghana, to Secretary of State; 12 March 1976, Subject: Changes in Pricing of Foreign Military Training Program.” 112 Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, 16. 192 illegitimate world leaders had also graduated from American military schools—although this report mentioned few by name. The specific process for budgeting IMET training changed in the 1970s, and IMET programs received their own specific appropriation separate from the larger military assistance program. The programs’ lack of concrete results made them increasingly vulnerable to arbitrary cuts by the Congress, “despite Executive Branch arguments that the training of foreign military personnel is one of the most effective means of enhancing the security and influencing the policies of recipient countries.”113 Terms of nation-states and power still failed to illuminate these programs’ tangible results. Where this report attempted to describe how military education and training programs advanced American geopolitical interests, it extolled the intangible benefits of international exchange to make its case. “It is in the training environment that military-to-military relationships of enduring value to the U.S. are made,” the report claimed. More than that, it said, “When U.S. and foreign military personnel sit down to plan and undergo training together, the mutual insight and rapport that result are of a different and higher order than relationships based on most other types of contact.”114 It argued that the American people continued to support international military education and training programs despite their unstable rationale, their vulnerability to budget pressure and “political considerations,” and their tendency to “vacillate from one concept to another” because they directly participated in these relationships.115 The programs evaded measurement because they were pluripotent. To Ernest Lefever of the Brookings Institution, whose earlier work contributed to the Defense Security Assistance Agency’s 1979 report, the true benefits of foreign education and training programs took decades to mature.116 In the short run, some American-trained officers initiated coups in their home 113 Ibid., 74. 114 Ibid., iii. Emphasis is mine. 115 Ibid., 74. 116 Lefever, “The Military Assistance Training Program.” 193 states, but others fought against them; some advocated the nationalization of U.S. corporations in their countries, others resisted it; in civil wars both rebels and loyalists had trained in the U.S.117 The program’s real benefit was more like an institutional subconscious, where “even if a small number of these attempt to emulate the Democratic values and practices they heard about and saw in the United States, the net, long-term effect, however modest, would be in the direction of a more representative and responsive government than most third world countries now enjoy.”118 It might take decades for the fruits of these exchange programs to mature, these analysts reckoned, but that slow, psychological change would be more meaningful than any short-term policy alignment between the recipient nation and the United States—especially when those policy alignments rarely occurred as the U.S. hoped. The General Research Corporation’s American perspective did not acknowledge the power differentials between American training staff and foreign military students, and assumed that the individuals involved in these courses viewed themselves primarily as national beings when participating in them.119 In practice, differences in power and nationality required constant negotiation. On post, among men and women in uniform, power differentials could hardly be hidden, and only American faculty and senior officers had the authority to downplay them between fellow students or between students and instructors. In social situations, where community members struggled to host welcoming and inclusive events, specific “national” labels adhered with less uniformity, as we shall see. But the policy discussions surrounding these programs both justified them as pragmatic national policies while at the same time touting the enduring personal bonds they created. 117 Lefever, “Arms Transfers, Military Training, and Domestic Politics,” 279; Lefever, “The Military Assistance Training Program.” 118 Lefever, “Arms Transfers, Military Training, and Domestic Politics,” 291. 119 See Seigel, Uneven Encounters, xii. 194 In such a way, they reveal another paradox of Military Internationalism: its uneven dependence on state power. States facilitated international exchanges and provided official justifications to sustain them as government programs. After arranging these contacts, however, pragmatic rationalizations rooted in foreign policy objectives and state-building gave way to a deeper faith that visiting foreign military personnel and American families would interact in ways that represented a more natural internationalism which was not solely about national power. By defending international military education and training as a central site for transmitting American values and “ways of life,” Defense and State department planners appealed to international norms for practical as well as ideological reasons. Continuously after 1979, Defense and State department staff claimed to “weigh human rights practices in each of the proposed recipient countries,” and that international military education and training best formed apolitical and professional graduates who, in turn, supported “democratic processes” and “the basic rights of individuals.”120 Emphasizing that they more than complied with the International Security Assistance Act of 1978 prohibition against IMET grants to states that grossly violated human rights, they preserved their program from excessive scrutiny and offered it as a proactive American endeavor to spread human rights awareness. In a kind of reverse “boomerang effect,” policymakers employed the internationally recognized rhetoric of human rights to defend the program they considered essential for forming transnational networks of 120 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1981, 1, 16; United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1988, 1987, 18, ASI: 87 fiche 7144-13, U.S. Government Documents, Anshutz Library, University of Kansas. 195 military officers who, they argued, could bring about the reforms human rights discourse prescribed.121 We might question their sincerity, or at least recognize the absence of evidence for the point, but by regularly touting the way life in American communities actually improved foreign military personnel, policymakers appealed to deep-rooted assumptions. They were the same assumptions that motivated reformers of the old Mutual Security Program of the 1950s to replace the old justification of containing communism with a new emphasis on delivering political, economic, and most of all psychological modernity to target societies in the global South. U.S. and foreign governments employed a version of Military Internationalism which professed great faith in the power of international travel and mutual education and training, and operated those programs according to corporate calculations of national political, geopolitical, and economic interests. But in order for those contacts to yield “national” results—results based on the participants becoming more national beings by serving in their nation’s forces—very non- national, human interactions had to occur first. In this way, state-based explanations of their programs still occasionally referred to the transnational benefits of interaction—what Iriye calls “Cultural Internationalism.” As a state-supported project, these programs adhered to a version of Military Internationalism that privileged the “national” results of the exchange. The 1979 evaluation of the International Military Education and Training program repeated the potential for national development and increased “access” for American diplomacy in the global South. But a different, more cultural understanding of the consequences of exchange lay under the 121 On the “boomerang effect,” see Daniel C. Thomas, “Boomerangs and Superpowers: International Norms, Transnational Networks and US Foreign Policy,” Cambridge Review of International Affairs 15, no. 1 (April 2002): 26; Snyder, Human Rights Activism and the End of the Cold War, 11. 196 administration of international military education and training programs, which observers obliquely acknowledged surprisingly often, and will be the subject of the next chapter. The Elastic Rhetoric of International Military Education and Training: The Ghanaian Case Throughout the 1980s, the language the Department of Defense used to defend international military education and training programs routinely stressed the pragmatic, national outcomes the programs delivered while acknowledging that they resulted from non-national, cultural, and human interactions. Official U.S. justification for international military education and training grants to Ghana during this time demonstrate the nexus between pragmatic national interests and a near-mystical belief in human-centered psychological transformations particularly well. Ghana’s case also demonstrated how the vocabulary around American military assistance programs adroitly shifted its shape without greatly disturbing the rhetorical or institutional inertia which supported them. In annual Congressional Presentations on Security Assistance Programs from the 1980s, the case of Ghana neatly demonstrates the flexible rhetoric defending the transformative power not just of American military assistance, but of international military education and training specifically. Through the 1970s and 1980s, the United States’ only security assistance to Ghana was through the International Military Education and Training (IMET) program, providing funding for an average of 30 Ghanaian personnel to attend training or education programs in the United States, and costing the United States about $240,000 per year.122 Most attended American staff colleges and war colleges; the rest attended programs for “military management and 122 Data from Congressional Presentations, FY 1978 through 1989. At most, the US spent $281,000 (1982) on 43 total students; the lowest: $188,000 (1979) on 23 total students. 197 technical areas such as finance, administration, and engineering.”123 Annual Congressional Presentations after 1979 did not state which specific schools each Ghanaian attended in the U.S., instead they all generalized around the theme of “improv[ing] Ghana’s own indigenous training capability and upgrad[ing] the educational and training standards of armed forces personnel.”124 Compared to approximately $15 million per year in other types of American economic assistance to Ghana between 1978 and 1984, (including P. L. 480 “Food for Peace” food aid, Agency for International Development assistance, and the Peace Corps), IMET was a small program, but the Defense and State Departments considered it the United States’ only avenue of potential influence over Ghana’s politically influential military.125 The Departments of Defense and State repeatedly claimed that the small IMET program in Ghana guided the Ghanaian government’s rapidly evolving perspective on the United States after 1979. As expected, the Defense Security Assistance Agency’s Congressional Presentation for FY 1980, written early in 1979, proclaimed that the IMET program “serves as an important element in our friendly relations with the Ghanaian government by providing professional training to key military leaders, current and potential,” while boasting, “the U.S. experience has also created understanding and respect for American values and institutions among Ghanaian military leaders.”126 The Defense Security Assistance Agency also suggested that American military training stabilized Ghana during uncertain political times. “In June 1978,” it recalled, without recognizing that Acheampong himself was an IMET graduate, “military officers led a 123 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1989 (Washington, DC, 1988), 163. 124 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1982, 1981, 295, ASI: 82 Fiche 7144-13, U.S. Government Documents, Anshutz Library, University of Kansas. 125 Total economic aid for Ghana taken from Congressional Presentations, FY 1980-FY1986. These reported the “actual” amount spent for the prior year, the current year’s “expected” budget, and projected budget for the fiscal year of the document’s title. $0 in economic aid went to Ghana in 1980, which I included in the average. Otherwise, the average would be about $17 million/year. 126 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1980, 279. 198 bloodless coup that replaced the government of General Acheampong. The new government has released political detainees and undertaken difficult and long overdue economic reforms. It has also upheld the previous regime’s commitment to step down in favor of a democratically elected civilian government.”127 The report projected that even after political power transferred to civilians, “Ghana’s military can be expected to play an important role in the country's economic and political development.”128 In early 1979, Ghana was on the verge of great political change. The Defense Security Assistance Agency intended that American-trained military officers would provide a steady, human rights-respecting influence and reliable partnership with the U.S. The Defense Security Assistance Agency’s 1980 Congressional Presentation mistakenly projected an even larger role for the armed forces in stabilizing Ghanaian politics.129 When this report arrived, Flight Lieutenant Jerry J. Rawlings’ Armed Forces Revolutionary Council (AFRC), which toppled the Supreme Military Council in June 1979, had temporarily relinquished power to a civilian government under President Hilla Limann.130 Rawlings later overthrew the Third Republic on December 31, 1981, but in the interim, the Defense Security Assistance Agency asserted that Limann’s government would depend on the “cooperation and support” of the Ghana Armed Forces for its survival.131 The reasons for the 1979 coup by “rank and file military,” the Defense Security Assistance Agency reported, were “severe inequities between officers and enlisted men, corruption in the military and the country’s depressed economy.”132 Although the report noted that Rawlings’ AFRC had executed eight top leaders, 127 Ibid. 128 Ibid. 129 Released in 1980, this would be: United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1981. 130 There is no U.S. military equivalent for the rank of Flight Lieutenant, but it is something close to a junior Captain in the U.S. Army, although Rawlings had been a commissioned officer in the Ghana Air Force for 10 years prior 1979. In the U.S. Army or U.S. Air Force, normally an officer would have been promoted from Captain to Major with about that same tenure. 131 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1981, 277. 132 Ibid. 199 “including three former heads of state,” it did not mention Acheampong among them.133 It also failed to evaluate whether a decade of American professional training had mitigated the inequities or corruption. Meanwhile, the United States’ “modest security assistance program” would remain “an important element in our friendly relations with the Ghanaian Government by providing professional training to key military leaders, current and potential.”134 In 1980, and again in the FY 1982 report (prepared in 1981, before Rawlings’ second coup), the Defense Security Assistance Agency boasted, “The professional training offered key members of the Ghanaian military in the US has given them an understanding of and respect for American values and institutions.”135 Further, the report suggested, “This reinforces their Western orientation and contributes to strengthening the friendly, cooperative relationship between Ghana and the US.”136 These are standard justifications, based on the oft-repeated narrative about the long-term psychological and diplomatic benefits of American training. At this point, despite the illegitimate rise and violent fall of one IMET-trained head of state in Ghana, the Ghanaian experience did not demand that the U.S. reconsider international military education and training as a whole. When preparing the FY 1983 Congressional Presentation in 1982, after Rawlings returned to power, the Defense Security Assistance Agency acknowledged Ghana’s new military government, but either failed or refused to acknowledge its revolutionary character.137 In January 1982, Rawlings declared “revolution”—he later called it a “Holy War”—and accused Ghana’s military of “years of corruption in the highest ranks which has also seeped down the command 133 Ibid. 134 Ibid. 135 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1982, 295. 136 Ibid. 137 Emmanuel Hansen and Paul Collins, “The Army, the State, and the ‘Rawlings Revolution’ in Ghana,” African Affairs 79, no. 314 (January 1, 1980): 4; See Dennis Austin, “The Ghana Armed Forces and Ghanaian Society,” Third World Quarterly 7, no. 1 (January 1, 1985): 101; Baynham, “Divide et Impera,” 634; Decalo, “Military Rule in Africa: Etiology and Morphology,” 56; Emmanuel Hansen, Ghana Under Rawlings: Early Years (Lagos: Malthouse Press, 1991); Hutchful, “Institutional Decomposition and Junior Ranks’ Political Action in Ghana,” 237. 200 structure.”138 He declared: “We have now a People's Army, a People's Navy, a People's Air Force . . . We have seen enough of a traditional form of leadership which abandons the people once it is in power.”139 “The Revolution has no room for elitist, self-centered and materialistic officers,” the new Army Commander Brigadier Arnold Quainoo declared to the Ghana Military Academy’s 1982 class. Meanwhile, Rawlings restored diplomatic relations with Libya, and broadcast a new willingness to cooperate with the Soviet Union, Iran, and Eastern Europe.140 Later scholars considered Rawlings’ ascent to power a symptom of the military’s inability to convert political dominance into institutional stability, while the charismatic leader merged the military’s strong corporate identity with lower ranks’ (and the Ghanaian poor’s) radical aspirations.141 Paradoxically, decades of international military training stunted the Ghana Armed Forces’ ability to renew itself organically and contributed to Rawlings’ grievances against the military hierarchy. Ghana’s “complete dependence on international circuits of military production and training” constricted junior ranks’ advancement.142 American policymakers interpreted the coup not as the failure of American attempts to reshape the institutional or corporate character of Ghana’s military in the past decade but as evidence of an even greater need for “training to strengthen professionalism and discipline.”143 But this required a shift in the rhetoric of American military assistance away from its prior, gradualist emphasis on influencing Ghanaian military development and toward restoring a lost, mythical professionalism. 138 Embassy of Ghana, “Rawlings Explains Motive for Military Take-Over,” Ghana News, January 1982, 6; Embassy of Ghana, “Holy War Still On -- Rawlings,” Ghana News, January 1983. 139 Embassy of Ghana, “Rawlings Explains Motive for Military Take-Over,” 6–7. 140 Embassy of Ghana, “Relations with Libya Restored,” Ghana News, January 1982; Embassy of Ghana, “Bright Future for Ghana – Soviet Relations,” Ghana News, May 1984; Embassy of Ghana, “Soviets Declare Support,” Ghana News, January 1982; Embassy of Ghana, “Iranians Hold Talks on Trade,” Ghana News, June 1982; Embassy of Ghana, “Cultural Exchange Pact Signed,” Ghana News, January 1983. 141 Hutchful, “Institutional Decomposition and Junior Ranks’ Political Action in Ghana,” 248–251. 142 Ibid., 212. 143 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1983, 1982, 305, ASI: 83 fiche 7144-13, U.S. Government Documents, Anshutz Library, University of Kansas. 201 The Department of Defense assumed that its IMET program had such power. Since 1979, the Defense Security Assistance Agency’s annual reports repeated familiar refrains: Education and training in the United States prepared foreign military leaders for “operating, maintaining and managing a military establishment,” while reinforcing “a political and professional military element in support of democratic processes.”144 Training under IMET was “professional and nonpolitical, reflecting the US tradition of civilian supremacy and the instrumental rather than policy role of the military.”145 Defense policymakers still boasted, “IMET is not a cultural exchange program, but the exchange of cultural values inherent in bringing foreign and US military trainees together is an additional and essentially cost free benefit.”146 Meanwhile, the Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs affirmed, “Without exception, each of our ambassadors reports that IMET is one of the most valuable programs we have to offer.”147 Recognizing the Rawlings government’s “anti-US sentiments,” in 1983 the Defense Security Assistance Agency declared the IMET program to be even more important, and “one of the few remaining vehicles for fostering US interests in Ghana.”148 Rawlings and the junior officers and non-commissioned officers who conducted the coup “exacerbated problems of military discipline, and increased the need for professional training.”149 In 1984, noting that U.S.- Ghanaian relations “improved perceptibly starting in the summer of 1983,” they reaffirmed Ghanaians’ critical need for American military training, since “the trainees are exposed to 144 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1980, 16. 145 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1985, 1984, 27, ASI: 84 fiche 7144-13, U.S. Government Documents, Anshutz Library, University of Kansas. 146 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1980, 16 Notice here the Congressional Presentation copied the CRS’s 1979 report verbatim, adding the phrase “essentially cost free.” It is not clear who was copying whom. 147 Chester A. Crocker, Security and Development Assistance; Hearings before the Committee on Foreign Relations, U.S. Senate. (U. S. Senate: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1983), 426. 148 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1984, 1983, 242, ASI: 83 fiche 7144-13, U.S. Government Documents, Anshutz Library, University of Kansas. 149 Ibid. 202 American values and democratic, human rights oriented institutions, including the traditional role of the US military within our society.”150 The U.S. recognized that “Although political developments in Ghana during the past few years have resulted in an erosion of the influence within the military of Western oriented personnel, there is still a significant amount of respect for Western techniques and systems.”151 Finally, “Maintenance of the [IMET] program is one of the principal means of professional contact with the Ghanaian military at a time when military personnel of countries hostile to the US, i.e. Libya, are increasingly present in Ghana.”152 By 1985, after Ghana’s economy had failed to recover, Rawlings had invited the World Bank to intervene, and Ghana adopted a U.S.-supported structural adjustment program, the Defense Security Assistance Agency was optimistic about American assistance again. “The unquestionable professional benefits of the security assistance program are considerably enhanced by the opportunity to demonstrate to key personnel within the Ghanaian defense establishment the traditional role of the US military within our society,” they reported.153 Similarly, in 1986, as Rawlings’ military government continued into its fourth year, the Departments of Defense and State were sure its education and training program could “encourage nonalignment and counter Soviet bloc influence, and stimulate the development of the new democratic system.”154 Political uncertainty following Rawlings’ first coup in 1979 gravely challenged the traditional narrative justifying American military education and training grants to Ghana as a 150 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1985, 252. 151 Ibid. 152 Ibid. 153 Akyeampong, “Africans in the Diaspora,” 205; United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1986, 1985, 270, ASI: 85 fiche 7144-13, U.S. Government Documents, Anshutz Library, University of Kansas. 154 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1987; Volume 2, 1986, 178, ASI: 86 fiche 7144-13, U.S. Government Documents, Anshutz Library, University of Kansas. 203 source of long-term stability. In response, U.S. policymakers relabeled the program’s purpose into an essential toehold for American interests that simultaneously preserved and re-transmitted an ideal of civil-military relations—despite little historical evidence of success. The program continued to sponsor roughly the same number of students for the next decade, but the rhetoric the United States employed to justify its programming decisions reveal a combination of underlying attitudes about international military education and Military Internationalism. First, as an individual identity and not a schedule for corporate or national development, Military Internationalism preceded specific program descriptions and influenced how observers evaluated programs’ results. In 1970, 1979, and again in 1990, Congressional critiques of the International Military Education and Training program chided its inability to “measure” results, but American policymakers never questioned whether sponsoring just twenty to thirty Ghanaian military officers’ training in the U.S. each year would eventually yield society-wide changes. Instead, when a group of junior officers who had not yet participated in American professional military education seized the government, American policymakers reformulated their position from emphasizing IMET’s conservative tendency and projected that the new government required a transformation that Ghana was unable to provide for itself. In annual reevaluations judging and justifying IMET with Ghana after 1979, the Defense Security Assistance Agency and the State Department did not consider Rawlings’ revolution evidence of the failure of a decade and a half of American professional military influence. As they did after previous coups, academic observers quickly recognized that Ghana’s revolution had fundamentally Ghanaian origins.155 Instead, military assistance planners proposed that international military education and training was the last best hope for Ghanaian governance and Ghanaian-American relations. 155 Hansen and Collins, “The Army, the State, and the ‘Rawlings Revolution’ in Ghana”; Embassy of Ghana, “Rawlings Explains Motive for Military Take-Over”; E. Gyimah-Boadi and Donald Rothchild, “Rawlings, Populism, and the Civil Liberties Tradition in Ghana,” Issue: A Journal of Opinion 12, no. 3/4 (October 1, 1982): 64–69. 204 Similar to the experience of failed modernization projects in the early 1960s, results from Ghana never seriously challenged the faith in the power of Military Internationalism inherent in international military education and training; they only prompted a more expansive expectation for what Military Internationalism might accomplish.156 The IMET program’s justification and application evolved in light of new conditions, but the underlying international identity remained unquestioned—at least by military assistance planners. Momentum or Inertia in the 1980s The United States’ international military education and training program changed remarkably little during the 1980s, even as fierce battles raged in American government and academia over the proper course for American foreign policy with respect to Asia, Africa, and Latin America. As scholars reassessed the persistence of military rule abroad, Congress continued to challenge American military assistance programs for non-democratic and abusive regimes abroad.157 Jointly administered by the Departments of State and Defense, spokespersons for the International Military Education and Training Program deftly defended the program using language that embraced the long-held faith in the power of American communities to improve visitors from the global South while offering long-term strategic rewards. Best of all, by weaving congressionally mandated concern for human rights into the curriculum for foreign visitors, client states’ political, economic, and cultural transformation was bound to result as a “cost-free” benefit for U.S. foreign policy. The simultaneous growth of American interventionism and exceptionalism in U.S. foreign policy during the Reagan years required security assistance programs to serve several 156 See, for example, Cullather, The Hungry World, 5. 157 Adekson, “Pay, Promotion, and Other Self-Interests of Military Intervention in Politics.” 205 purposes at the same time. Military and economic policy under Reagan combined a renewed dedication to intervention worldwide with the ongoing commitment to deregulation and rejection of social corporatism inherited from the Nixon era.158 Early in his first term, Reagan and his advisors pushed against weakening Soviet influence everyplace they could detect it through massive rearmament, applying economic and diplomatic pressure, and sending military assistance to counterrevolutionary movements and pro-Western regimes across the global South.159 American security assistance expanded sevenfold between 1980 and 1985, economic assistance abroad doubled, and the total American security assistance budget topped $9.7 billion.160 The IMET program doubled in dollars to $56 million, but its portion in relation to other types of military assistance shrunk from 25% to just 7%, and less than 1% of all American aid.161 U.S. hegemony over the institutions of global finance also made economic aid contingent upon accepting American neoliberal economic ideology.162 Especially during the global recession of 1981-1982, revolutionary regimes across Asia and Africa, including China and Rawlings’ Ghana, increasingly tabled socialism in exchange for International Monetary Fund loans.163 The Defense and Security Assistance Agency marked these changes in Ghanaian domestic economic policy in their annual summary of American aims for the IMET program in 158 Mazower, Governing the World, 346; Westad, The Global Cold War, 331. 159 Hunt, Ideology and U.S. Foreign Policy, 187; Westad, The Global Cold War, 333–334; McCormick, America’s Half-Century, 226. 160 Military Assistance Program (grants of weapons, equipment, etc. not including training): $110M in 1980, $805M in 1985; Economic Support Fund (economic assistance to strategically important states): $1.94B in 1980, $4B in 1985. The total ($9B) includes loans and loan guarantees for the massive ($3 billion to $5.7 billion) Foreign Military Sales programs, some of which would theoretically be repaid. United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1989, 386–388; In 1985, roughly 45% of all American military and economic assistance went to Egypt and Israel. United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1985. 161 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1989, 388. 162 Westad, The Global Cold War, 359–361. 163 Ibid. 206 Ghana, while asserting that the U.S.’s ongoing program to train influential Ghanaian military officers moderated extreme fluctuations in Ghanaian domestic politics.164 Ironically, waging economic Cold War in the global South with the carrot-stick combination of military aid and economic assistance that demanded “conditionality” and “adjustment” to market forces exacerbated the United States’ own domestic economic problems. By the mid-1980s, unprecedented annual budget deficits defied traditional American domestic political arrangements.165 American liberals and conservatives alike attacked the massive foreign aid infrastructure, hotly contested American intervention in Latin America, and questioned military sales programs that, they feared, caused arms races and instability at the expense of American economic stability.166 As they had since the 1950s, Congressional debates over the size and purpose of America’s security assistance program revealed where individuals’ regional and domestic concerns merged with discussions on international policy.167 Especially in the Democratically-controlled House, where representatives scoured the security assistance budget in search of areas to cut, the ideologies behind each military assistance program occasionally revealed themselves in high relief. In a typical example from 1985, David Obey (D-WI), chair of the Foreign Operations Subcommittee of the Committee on Appropriations squared off against retired Lieutenant General Ernest Graves, former director of 164 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1980, 279. 165 McCormick, America’s Half-Century, 235; Westad, The Global Cold War, 359–360. 166 See, for example, Westad, The Global Cold War, chap. 9; As a counterpoint, Sen. Helms (R-NC) attacks US military aid in principle for different principles, attacks US intervention in El Salvador for being TOO socialist, and criticizes the US emphasis on Human Rights that only acknowledge “the civil rights achievements of the 1970s” as valid, at the expense of life, property, liberty. International Security and Development Cooperation Act of 1984; Report of the Committee on Foreign Relations, United States Senate on S. 2582, to Provide a Supplemental Authorization of Appropriations for the Fiscal Year 1984 for Certain Foreign Assistance Programs; to Amend the Foreign Assistance Act of 1961, the Arms Export Control Act, and Other Acts to Authorize Appropriations for the Fiscal Year 1985 for International Security and Development Assistance, the Peace Corps and the International Development Association; and for Other Purposes., Senate (Washington, DC: 98th Congress, 2d Session, April 18, 1984), 70. 167 See Vernon W Ruttan, United States Development Assistance Policy: The Domestic Politics of Foreign Economic Aid, The Johns Hopkins Studies in Development (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1996). 207 the Defense Security Assistance Agency, currently a senior fellow in International Security Studies at Georgetown University, and Frank Kramer, former Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for International Security Affairs, when looking to cut $1 billion from President Reagan’s $9 billion foreign aid request. “If we are going to be looking at a 10 percent cut, we ought to start with the big babies first,” Obey opened. “What do we really get out of a $50, $75,000 IMET program in any of these places? Can I really come with a straight face, tell my constituents or tell members of the House on the floor, if I am asked, these dollars are essential this year – – given the budget crunch – – essential to the national interests of the United States?”168 “Well, the goal in the smaller countries . . .” Graves attempted to answer.169 Obey cut him off: “I recognize what the goal is, and I am not questioning the fact that these programs might be nice to have or useful.” The question was, he demanded, “if we are dealing with a budget crunch, are they . . . essential to the national interests of the United States?” 170 Graves and Kramer took turns responding. “I think the position of the administration in including these is that they see improving our security ties with those countries as fitting in with the overall effort to improve security around the world. And I think they are probably taking the view that the $50,000 is just as well spent as the $50,000 in some of the larger programs,” Graves answered.171 “A critical point to remember about IMET,” Kramer added, “is that it is a long-term program. It is going to have no immediate consequences that are essentially in the same way as 168 David R. Obey, Foreign Assistance and Related Programs Appropriations for 1986 (House: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1985), 517. 169 Ibid. 170 Ibid. 171 Ibid. 208 putting a weapon in the hands of a country that is being attacked. So when you cut it, you’ll not have immediate consequences.”172 Congress may find itself with a “short-term” deficit problem, Kramer warned, and may find cutting IMET a tempting short-term solution, so “I think the answer to your question is no, it is not critical,” he admitted. “But if you take a longer view, there are some countries, I think, that you can say would never be essential or are very unlikely to be, but the whole purpose of the IMET program is to create a long-term and enduring relationship.”173 Defending the program despite the difficulty measuring its effectiveness was only one challenge. “Some people do not like the fact that we have trained people who have ended up being dictators of various countries,” Kramer admitted, “but the fact is we have incredible access because of that program, and probably dollar for dollar it is the most important program we run.”174 So, he summed up, “whether you have to have IMET in Guinea, I doubt it over a given year. I think you have to look at it over a given number of years.”175 This conventional response explicitly reiterated many of the rhetorical and ideological shields that protected international military education and training from serious scrutiny, and it implied the rest. IMET was a long-term program; critics must avoid the temptation to fixate on the lack of measurable results. Even for countries where the U.S. had no national interest, the program kept open channels of “incredible access” and permitted the U.S. to maintain more than just a token diplomatic presence nearly everywhere. More than that, the program built “relationships,” both institutional and individual. At the time of this hearing, more than 100 nations participated in the U.S. IMET program in some way.176 Even in Guinea—which in this 172 Ibid. 173 Ibid. 174 Ibid., 517–518. 175 Ibid., 518. 176 United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1985, 5. 209 testimony was shorthand for “the least important places of the Third World”—the U.S. could extend its psychological influence. Admittedly, many graduates of the program committed improper deeds—as this and other hearings throughout the 1980s confessed—but the program was always cost-effective.177 Especially in a security assistance context dominated by massive grants to a few strategically significant recipients, the justifications inherent in IMET program’s modest involvement worldwide made it stand out as a form of military assistance that could please an exceptionally wide range of political constituencies.178 In eras when budgets grew tight, the program’s low overall cost and mythical cost-effectiveness actually preserved it from reductions.179 These defenses had justified the program’s expansion in the early 1960s, had survived the decline of high modernization and bureaucratic decentralization in the 1970s, and persisted through the 1980s. Congressional attempts at the end of the 1980s to come to terms with the international military education and training program’s cost effectiveness and lack of measurable results revealed how persistent and consistent the ideals remained. In September 1989, Sen. Patrick Leahy (D-VT) again acknowledged decades-old critiques of America’s international military education and training program: “There has never been an objective evaluation of whether IMET training actually changes attitudes about respect for human rights and civilian control,” he told the Committee on Appropriations.180 “The Committee is told that IMET is a superb program 177 Shultz fields mostly questions on Human Rights in Shultz, Foreign Assistance and Related Programs Appropriations for 1986, 128–138; Lt Gen Gast (Defense) and Under Sec. Schneider field mostly Human Rights questions in Philip C. Gast, Foreign Assistance and Related Programs Appropriations for 1986 (Senate: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1985), 169–280. 178 In 1985, for example, 40% of the $9B total US Security Assistance budget went to Israel and Egypt. United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1985, 13. 179 In both the late 1960s IMET grew to more than 10% of total military assistance funds, in the late 1970s, from 1978-1981 it was more than 25%. United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1989, 388. 180 Leahy, Foreign Operations, Export Financing, and Related Programs Appropriation Bill, 1990, Report to Accompany H.R. 2939, Senate Report (101st Congress, 2nd Session: U.S. Senate, September 14, 1989), 162. 210 with high payoff to the United States in foreign policy and national security terms,” he said. 181 “If this is so self-evident, it should be easy for the appropriate agencies in the executive branch to prepare a full analysis of the program demonstrating the achievements of the IMET program.”182 In June 1990, as Leahy announced the publication of the General Accountability Office report on IMET that he had commissioned, he declared, “IMET is a program that runs on momentum or inertia. Until this GAO study I requested, I do not think that anybody had looked at IMET since the early 1970s.”183 He was not entirely correct—the Defense Security Assistance Agency published a complete review of the program in 1979, as we have seen. But Leahy’s conclusion was valid: despite vast changes in global politics, the Cold War, and the objectives of American foreign policy, the IMET program’s justifications had not significantly changed since the early 1970s. The General Accounting Office raised familiar objections to the international military training program’s administration in 1979, but the ideology behind the program remained firmly entrenched. Neither the Defense nor State Department had established a method of evaluating the success of international military education and training; they failed to maintain contact with IMET graduates or track their progress through their home militaries; and local training officials frequently changed their courses’ content and deviated from approved course materials.184 On the other hand, the GAO acknowledged, international military education and training programs seemed to succeed at “expos[ing] participants to U.S. values, citizens, institutions, and commitment to human rights.”185 Despite Leahy and GAO’s critique, the IMET program’s 181 Ibid. 182 Ibid. 183 General Accounting Office, Security Assistance: Observations on the International Military Education and Training Program; Brown, Senate Hearings Before the Committee on Appropriations; Foreign Operations, Export Financing, and Related Programs Appropriations, Fiscal Year 1991; H. R. 5114, 908. 184 General Accounting Office, Security Assistance: Observations on the International Military Education and Training Program, 2–4. 185 Ibid., 22. 211 ideological foundation that international military training had the potential to transform visiting military officers psychologically—at a low cost—remained intact. The Defense Security Assistance Agency published its 1989 responses to Congressional inquiries in an academic article in 1990. Spiro C. Manolas and Louis J. Samelson wrote, “the Administration takes the view . . . that IMET is an effective, low-cost component of the $8 billion global U.S. security assistance effort.”186 At the then-current level of $47 million per year, they argued, the program provided “U.S. access to and influence[d] foreign governments far out of proportion to its modest cost.”187 On the other hand, they could offer “no rigorous proof either supporting or contradicting” whether American education and training efforts “actually can change attitudes in foreign counties toward such core U.S. concerns as civilian control and human rights.”188 Repeating the remarkably resilient phrases about the programs’ benefits and compiling anecdotal evidence and testimonials from graduates of U.S.-sponsored training, the 1990 assessment demonstrated that faith in the transformative power of Military Internationalism still underlay American assumptions about its foreign military education and training programs. This assessment still identified national outcomes as a primary goal of American assistance, but did so in disembodied ways. “Nation-building is not an objective of the IMET program per se,” it reported, “nevertheless, it is an important byproduct.”189 Emphasizing “technology, management, and technical skills,” these programs “had a positive effect on the infrastructure of IMET recipient countries. The effect has been to stimulate ‘nation building’ which, in turn, has encouraged economic development.”190 This assertion, which does not explain how a human-centered training experience could influence the infrastructure of a 186 Manolas and Samelson, “The IMET Program: Report to Congress,” 1. Emphasis in original. 187 Ibid. 188 Ibid. 189 Ibid., 20. 190 Ibid. 212 country, relies on an implicit understanding that the foreign officer’s experience in a U.S. military school or training facility equated to an institutional intervention between American society and his—and it could just as well have been written in 1960. This is not simply wishful thinking, the case of one Executive Branch department attempting to justify its budget. This assessment revealed two important aspects of this small, ongoing project of U.S. military assistance: First, the expansiveness of the American faith in the technical and practical superiority of American training that permitted it to merge so successfully with modernization theory continued to permeate the international military education and training program for decades. Second, in emphasizing once again the national outcomes of the individuals’ training experience, this assertion illustrates the paradox that state actors failed to recognize that the national outcomes they presumed would follow American policy relied on sub-national or non- national interactions first. A final example illustrates this paradox further. As it had through the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s, Congress remained suspicious that American military assistance enabled dictators who violated their subjects’ human rights.191 At the same time, through the international military education and training program and its companion, the Informational Program, the Departments 191 U.S. Congress. House., Conference Report on International Security Assistance and Arms Export Control Act of 1976, H.R. 13680 to Amend the Foreign Assistance Act of 1961 and the Foreign Military Sales Act, and for Other Purposes., House Report, Serial Set Vol. No. 13134-9, Session Vol. No. 1-9 (Washington, DC: 94th Congress, 2d Session, 1976), 50–51; Maw, International Security Assistance and Arms Export Control Act of 1976. Hearings Before the Committee on International Relations, 23; John Jackson Sparkman, The International Security Assistance and Arms Export Control Act of 1977. Report from the Committee on Foreign Relations. (Washington, DC: 95th Congress, 1st Session, May 16, 1977), 7; House Committee on Foreign Affairs, Foreign Assistance Act of 1969; Report of the Committee on Foreign Affairs Together with Minority, Supplemental and Additional Views on H.R. 14580 to Promote the Foreign Policy, Security, and General Welfare of the United States by Assisting Peoples of the World, Etc., 10; International Security Assistance Programs: Hearings Before the Subcommittee on Foreign Assistance of the Committee on Foreign Relations, United States Senate, Ninety-Fifth Congress, Second Session on S. 2846 To Amend the Foreign Assistance Act of 1961 and the Arms Export Control Act, and for Other Purposes, 86; International Security and Development Cooperation Act of 1984; Report of the Committee of Foreign Affairs, Together with Additional and Supplemental View [including Cost Estimate of the Congressional Budget Office] on H.R. 5119, to Authorize International Development and Security Assistance Programs and Peace Corps Programs for Fiscal Year 1985, and for Other Purposes., House Report (Washington, DC: 98th Congress, 2d Session, March 21, 1984), 20. 213 of State and Defense reformulated those Congressional concerns precisely into justifications for these exchange programs. “To our knowledge,” Manolas and Samelson reported in 1990, “No other government which provides education and training to foreign militaries places an emphasis on human rights practices which even approaches the attention which the U.S. attaches to this subject in its military schools.”192 Meanwhile, just a few minutes before Leahy paraded out the GAO report—which he personally commissioned—that criticized the IMET program’s execution but upheld its “cost effectiveness,” Senators Leahy and Dennis DeConcini (D-AZ) pressed Under Secretary of State for International Security Affairs Reginald Bartholomew to explain a recent Miami Herald article describing widespread human rights abuses by fifteen El Salvadorian Army Officers—fourteen of whom were graduates of American IMET programs.193 Bartholomew responded: “We have found, over the years, that one of the best tools we have for introducing foreign military personnel to American values is through the Individual [sic] Military Education and Training program.”194 He admitted, “The tragic situation in El Salvador is truly a hard test of our ability to encourage those values. Nonetheless, we remain convinced that our policy bolsters the center against violent extremists of the left and the right. IMET is a key component of that policy.”195 Conclusion Other historians have noted recently how the discourse of modernization has returned to American foreign policy in the last decade. Nils Gilman attributes its resurgence to the age of terrorism, where 21st century Americans, seeking a national identity and national mission of 192 Manolas and Samelson, “The IMET Program: Report to Congress,” 5. 193 Reginald Bartholomew, Senate Hearings Before the Committee on Appropriations; Foreign Operations, Export Financing, and Related Programs Appropriations, Fiscal Year 1991; H. R. 5114 (Washington, DC: U.S. Govt. Print. Off, 1990), 891. 194 Ibid., 892. 195 Ibid. 214 comparable vigor to their “ideologically fanatical enemies,” have unwittingly returned to the optimism and confidence of the 1950s.196 Nick Cullather exposes the irony that the failed American-funded dam project in Afghanistan’s Helmand Valley in the 1960s left the land useless for anything except poppies, which financed the Taliban’s rise to power in the 1990s; and that America’s reconstruction plan after the 2003 invasion included restoring the dam.197 By these accounts, modernization theory reappeared after a well-earned absence. In other places, modernization theory did not really go away after the Vietnam War, we were just not looking for it in the right places. Programs that sponsored foreign military personnel in the U.S. continued for decades after the 1960s because they conformed to deeply held beliefs about the power of American expertise to transform the world. Quite the contrary, the programs were remarkably resilient, and weathered the major shifts in American foreign policy in the 60s, 70s, and 80s despite the absence of evidence that they worked, because they appealed to a deeper faith that individual contact with ordinary Americans could inspire visitors to remake their societies. Because these programs yielded psychological, not physical, benefits, they were inexpensive. Since they depended so much on local American communities’ initiative for success, their practical execution and ongoing ideological sustenance flexibly adapted to major changes in American foreign policy during those decades. American sponsor families for international military personnel probably would not have recognized their service as a project of American liberal internationalism, fueled by universalist ideologies of American exceptionalism and modernization theory. In 1959, the Draper Committee said, simply, that when foreign nationals lived in close contact with U.S. citizens, they developed an appreciation for American values and way of life, and that they went back 196 Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, x. 197 Cullather, The Hungry World, 132. 215 home changed men and women.198 This sentiment repeated, nearly verbatim, for decades, from senators, secretaries and under secretaries of State and Defense, generals, and scholars of modernization, of realism, and of “new directions in foreign policy,” although usually there was something more unsaid or implied about what that change entailed. Modernization theory absorbed the official policy for visiting military students, and it never went away completely. In another sense, as we shall see, the ideological grooves of Military Internationalism in American communities that made the two compatible preexisted and ran deeper than the careers of the great social scientists of the 1950s and 1960s. The United States’ ongoing military training exchange with Ghana in the years after the 1979 coup reveals how flexible and durable the rhetoric surrounding international military education could be. Instead of questioning the apparent lack of fruit of two decades of military exchanges, American policymakers aggressively defended the international military education and training program as a precarious toehold of American influence. In the minds of American planners, international military education preserved the ideal, Western norms of civil-military relations in the hearts of Ghanaian officers and, as Ghanaian politics continued to overwhelm the ideals’ practicality, American policymakers projected onto international military education the role of preserving America’s entire diplomatic relationship with Ghana. Both of these missions—preserving the ideal of the professional, non-political military and the ability of the international military education and training program to sustain American diplomatic relations with Ghana—vastly overestimated what it could actually accomplish in the short term. Neither seemed inappropriate, however, given the underlying faith that international military education and training exchanges still embodied the transformative potential of person-to-person contact 198 U.S. President’s Committee to Study the U.S. Military Assistance Program (1958-1959), “Draper Committee Final Report,” 43. 216 between the military officers from the global South and the ideal American.199 Since that faith never faltered during this time, the specific rhetoric that tapped into that faith to justify specific policies could be radically redirected without collapsing entirely. 199 Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 2: Main Report, 2–14. 217 Part II Chapter 4: “Baled-Hay Diplomacy:” Military Internationalism in Kansas City The organization was so perfected this year that things really hummed, – – enough straw to sit upon, beverages galore, expert dinner accommodations, and all of us such nice people! And all of it so utterly American, but particularly mid-American. I believe we truly represented ourselves, good old cross-section of U.S.A from hither and yon – What a gold-mine those fine officers represent, creme de la creme of each country’s intellect, individuality and prowess. Because of us some of them will be truly sad to leave our country, will vow never to forget us and will have added an indescribable dimension to their scope. As one friend said on leaving, “I will never forget you all. I can’t explain what's happened in my mind!” – Greater Kansas City People-to-People member Joy Parr, describing the 1966 rodeo and barbeque with Fort Leavenworth’s Allied Officers.1 Introduction: Cultural Diplomacy versus Military Internationalism Nothing said “America” like Kansas City and nothing said Kansas City like rodeo. Each summer since 1963, sponsor families from the Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People International had hosted Fort Leavenworth’s international officers and their wives and children at Kansas City’s Benjamin Stables for pony rides, a “chuck wagon” dinner, and Western stage show featuring music, “Indian ceremonials,” “Indian dancers,” “real life cowboys and all the other activities of the ‘old west.’”2 As the rodeo opened, a mounted honor guard galloped into the arena waving the flags of each of the visiting officers’ forty-two nations. The rodeo staff “reserved seats grouped together in a choice location without charge” for the group. The U.S. 1 Unknown, “July 2nd Barbecue -- Rodeo Acclaimed Best Ever,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, August 1966, 2, Binder: Contact 1963-1970, Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People International (GKCPTP) archive I presented portions of this chapter at the First Annual Graduate Conference on History, April 26, 2014. Thanks to Professor Michael Krysko for his comments. 2 Unknown, “Annual Barbecue Picnic Dinner - Rodeo,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, June 1966, GKCPTP; Unknown, “July 2nd Barbecue -- Rodeo Acclaimed Best Ever”; Unknown, “5th Annual Chuck Wagon-Rodeo July 8, 1967,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, June 1967, Binder: Contact 1963-1970, GKCPTP; Unknown, “Succession of Visitors: Kansas Couple Adds Friends through ‘Open Door Policy,’” People, The People-to-People Newsletter, August 1965, Binder: Publications 1960- 1979, GKCPTP. 218 Army provided a bus for the hundred or so international officers and their families, and paid their admission. Civilian sponsors and their guests, about three hundred in all, paid two dollars each to attend. The night made memories. “The gay laughter or quiet murmur of conversation under the trees in the darkness at parting time seemed especially rich this particular Sunday night,” Joy Parr remembered.3 “Rich in fellowship, rich in human understanding, rich in a mellow, glowing sort of way!”4 Sponsors, international officers, and their families repeated similar sentiments each year for thirty more years before cuts to the international officer program budget forced the Greater Kansas City People-to-People Chapter to abandon the rodeo event.5 Between the 1960s and 1980s, volunteers from the Leavenworth-Lansing Chamber of Commerce and the Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People International channeled the eager participation of local women, political and business leaders, and the International Military Student Division staff at Fort Leavenworth to forge relationships that reinforced the local, national, and international prominence of all three. A host of reasons inspired local men and women to sponsor the hundred or so international officers and their families during their yearlong course at the Command and General Staff College. Largely, they internalized People- to-People’s founding myths, first articulated by President Eisenhower in 1956 and repeated without embarrassment for decades: that through hospitality and understanding, private citizens of all countries could “get together and leap governments,” to learn to cooperate, and to bring world peace.6 Through the events they hosted, the organizations that cooperated, and the way they celebrated their efforts and accomplishments, these volunteers asserted a much larger role 3 Unknown, “Second Annual Phase II Foreign Officer Hosting Another Success,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, September 1966, Binder: Contact 1963-1970, GKCPTP. 4 Ibid. 5 Unknown, “Shoot ’Em Up!!!,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, June 1986, 2, Binder: Contact 1980s, GKCPTP. 6 Conger Reynolds, “How People to People Began,” People-to-People Newsletter, October 1966, Binder: Publications 1960-1979, GKCPTP. 219 for themselves in the already complex relationship between individuals, community organizations, and the United States’ foreign policy objectives. This chapter explores how communities around America’s most prominent school for visiting military officers developed institutions that validated their own community ethos by accommodating international families. It argues that American families around Fort Leavenworth formed friendships with the families of visiting military elites that conformed to prior American presumptions of common military ethics that transcended political borders, but expressed and renewed their friendships in ways that resisted the changing rhetoric of American foreign policy toward Africa, Asia, and Latin America. Since American foreign policy celebrated ordinary families’ contributions to transforming visiting military officers, local women assumed the most prominent roles organizing, executing, and interpreting the meaning of off-post community programs for international families. Both women and men considered “Midwestern” hospitality an essential element in their relationships because it encouraged personal connections that “leaped governments.” Although women and men around the Fort cherished their international relationships, their professed cosmopolitanism always had a military twist. Ironically, for American communities around Fort Leavenworth, their transnational identity that claimed superiority over traditional diplomatic and national political structures in fact depended on the United States government to provide a steady flow of foreign elites and their families for renewal. Leavenworth and Kansas City communities’ robust partnerships with the Army post’s international officers reflected prior assumptions about the modernizing effects of American military education and training already established in American foreign assistance policy after 1960. As Chapter 1 showed, the international military education and training program expanded in the early 1960s to encourage American communities to convey the same political, economic, 220 and social values that American social scientists equated with modernity. Part of that transaction included wresting control of the United States massive military assistance program away from “unimaginative” and security-minded bureaucrats in the Eisenhower Administration.7 Yet the trend toward national mobilization in support of modernization directly contradicted the simultaneous nationalization and centralization of other forms of American cultural diplomacy in the 1960s.8 Despite an explosion of occasions for interaction in the 1940s and 1950s—international students at American universities and “every man an ambassador” campaigns, for example— historians argue that American nationalism eclipsed internationalism and the federal government centralized and hijacked cultural exchange for Cold War ideological combat.9 Richard Arndt, who relates with passion his career as “a mole” for “the university world” within the State Department and U.S. Information Agency’s (USIA) cultural diplomacy programs, catalogs cultural diplomacy’s unrelenting decline after 1953 until the death of USIA in 1999.10 Charles Thomson, the State Department’s former Chief of Cultural Relations, himself discounted “the People-to-People movement” in 1963 for lacking “serious and sustained impact,” for “spotty, and sometimes superficial and sentimental” activities, and for falling short of creating the “numerous long-term programs carried on by foundations and by educational, scholarly, religious, and industrial groups.”11 Kenneth A. Osgood mocks People-to-People volunteers as 7 Rostow, The Diffusion of Power: An Essay in Recent History, 86–87; 111. 8 Rosenberg, Spreading the American Dream; Nationalization is also implicit in Katharina Rietzler, “Before the Cultural Cold Wars: American Philanthropy and Cultural Diplomacy in the Inter-War Years,” Historical Research 84, no. 223 (February 2011): 148–64; Ekbladh also acknowledges the trend away from private cultural exchange toward public forms in Ekbladh, The Great American Mission. 9 Frank A. Ninkovich, The Diplomacy of Ideas: U.S. Foreign Policy and Cultural Relations, 1938-1950 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981), 167; Osgood, Total Cold War, 215. 10 Richard T. Arndt, The First Resort of Kings: American Cultural Diplomacy in the Twentieth Century (Dulles, VA: Potomac Books, 2005), x–xii. 11 Charles A. Thomson and Walter H. C. Laves, Cultural Relations and U.S. Foreign Policy (Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 1963), 133; Rosenberg the historian argues the same. Rosenberg, Spreading the American Dream, 227. 221 unwitting dupes in the service of Eisenhower’s domestic propaganda machine.12 The persistence of American racism also gravely limited the impact effect of cultural diplomacy campaigns abroad, as American performers often dissociated themselves from American foreign and domestic policy while simultaneously “blowing up the world” with American culture.13 Yet women and men around Fort Leavenworth remained active integrating international families throughout this time. Cultural diplomacy did not corrode everywhere in the United States. Rapidly changing informational technology and globalization may have accelerated cycles of public information and eroded diplomats’ traditional control over the flow of information, but diplomacy became more democratic as a result, not less.14 Instead, just as Robert Kroes argues that the “targets” of American cultural diplomacy abroad actively received, interpreted, and re-transmitted American symbols and messages back to the world, we find that the individuals—Americans and international families—at the point of interaction in the U.S. interpreted their exchange according to their own motives.15 Robust local initiatives for international cooperation that thrived around Kansas City for decades after 1960’s reveal that many Americans’ internationalist impulses remained intact. As U.S. foreign policymakers struggled to understand the limits of American military power after the Vietnam War, the International Military Education and Training program that funded the Command and General Staff College’s international officers persisted. Partly because 12 Osgood, Total Cold War, 242. 13 Von Eschen, Satchmo Blows up the World; Dudziak, Cold War Civil Rights; George N. Shuster, “The Nature and Development of United States Cultural Relations,” in Cultural Affairs and Foreign Relations, ed. Paul J. Braisted, American Assembly (Washington, DC: Columbia Books, 1968), 1–44; Although Williams argues that the entirety of the American example was unpalatable for most of the rest of the world, especially its insistence on “open-door” economics. Williams, The Tragedy of American Diplomacy; Muehlenbeck, Betting on the Africans; Gerald Horne, “Race from Power: U.S. Foreign Policy and the General Crisis of ‘White Supremacy,’” Diplomatic History 23, no. 3 (1999): 451. 14 For more on this “diplomatic revolution,” see Paul Gordon Lauren, Gordon A. Craig, and Alexander L. George, Force and Statecraft: Diplomatic Challenges of Our Time, 4th ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, USA, 2006), 114, 270. 15 See also Kroes, “American Empire and Cultural Imperialism,” 470; See also, Appiah, Cosmopolitanism, 111, who argues that people in those target cultures were far less vulnerable than Western elites made them out to be. . 222 it ran on “inertia,” partly because Defense and State Department officials deftly redefined the program’s goals to reflect changing American foreign policy objectives, and partly because it cost little, international military education and training remained a staple of American military assistance policy through the 1990s.16 Most importantly, however, the fundamental assumption that made foreign military training a natural instrument for modernization theorists, Cold War realists, and human rights-minded reformers still persisted: life among American communities yielded lasting psychological benefits for foreign visitors that over time transformed their home states and reinforced American influence there. Men and women volunteers around Fort Leavenworth understood this aspect of American foreign policy, but also specifically discounted this as their primary motivation. Genuine friendship and empathy motivated most of them, they said. As we saw in Chapter 3, modernization theorists’ initial rhetoric praising life among ordinary Americans survived in local communities long after the supposed decline of modernization theory. In a similar way, independence from formal state diplomacy permeated the organizations surrounding Fort Leavenworth’s international officers and preserved them even after America’s moment of cultural diplomacy lost its independence and supposed purity in the 1960s. Although historians readily admit that twentieth century American transnationalism began with private religious, philanthropic, and civic organizations, they often fail to recognize that in American communities, such “private”—or non-state—initiatives remained as the century ended.17 Even Arndt, the unapologetic “mole” against USIA bureaucratization of cultural diplomacy, marvels at the longevity of the Fulbright program and International Visitor Program, when “all else has declined or disappeared.”18 These thriving transnational hospitality networks 16 See Chapter 3. 17 Tyrrell, Reforming the World; Manela, The Wilsonian Moment; Zimmerman, Alabama in Africa; See, for example, Ekbladh, The Great American Mission; Rodgers, Atlantic Crossings; Mazower, Governing the World. 18 Arndt, The First Resort of Kings, 545. 223 upend the narrative in which the “real world” of geopolitical competition slowly strangled pre- Cold War humanitarianism. Diplomatic or public policy justifications for international military exchanges, then, often only mimicked the prior assumption that cultural exchange activated transnational identities. Around Fort Leavenworth, for example, both the assumption and the identities persisted. The presence of so many specifically military visitors challenges, but does not necessarily vitiate the humanitarian or internationalist impulse of the Kansas City community, despite historians’ claim that American militarism replaced cultural exchanges based on purer cosmopolitan instincts as the century progressed.19 Still, locals’ transnational identity matured on the home front of American empire, as the more powerful partner in an unequal alliance.20 For ethnologist Catherine Lutz, for example, U.S. military bases were sites “at which empire [became] a lived experience” for entire American communities.21 On the other hand, taking the women who recorded and publicized most of the sponsors’ activities at their word requires acknowledging that they genuinely felt they were contributing to world peace. These same women imagined, organized, and led a Peace Festival in Kansas City in 1968, 1969, and 1970. Clearly, there was more going on here than simple Cold War militarism. Women’s conspicuous influence integrating Fort Leavenworth’s international families with the Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People and the Leavenworth-Lansing Chamber of Commerce requires a new assessment of the balance between gendered expectations 19 Vagts first acknowledged the rise of militarized fascist societies before World War II, but also the paradoxical condition of secularized states after World War II embracing military titles and other forms of “civilian militarism.” See Vagts, A History of Militarism, 490; See also Sherry, In the Shadow of War; Hubert P. Van Tuyll, “Militarism, the United States and the Cold War,” Armed Forces & Society 20, no. 4 (Summer 1994): 519–30. 20 See, for example, Lutz, Homefront; Lutz, “Empire Is in the Details”; See also the Roundtable on Henry Luce’s “American Century,” in “Diplomatic History” vol. 23 (1999), including: Kroes, “American Empire and Cultural Imperialism”; Lundestad, “‘Empire by Invitation’ in the American Century”; Wagnleitner, “The Empire of the Fun, or Talkin’ Soviet Union Blues”; Arndt, The First Resort of Kings; Ninkovich, The Diplomacy of Ideas; Rosenberg, Spreading the American Dream; Enloe, Bananas, Beaches and Bases. 21 Lutz, Homefront, 209; Lutz, “Empire Is in the Details,” 598, 607. 224 of hospitality and Kansas City and Leavenworth women’s confidence seizing leadership roles in transnational organizations. Hospitality could be powerful, especially when it was international. Calling for renewed attention to the essential but unofficial role women played around American overseas military bases—including both American and local women who provided social and sexual services—Cynthia Enloe argues that governments depended on “allegedly private relationships” between classes and nationalities to conduct international affairs.22 Enloe focuses her ethnography on diplomatic and military communities overseas, but her observation that “the personal is international” applies equally stateside, where American women provided hospitality and social services to visiting families from abroad. In this case, however, the active cooperation between the International Military Student Division office at Command and General Staff College and the dual sponsorship programs in Leavenworth and Kansas City made the relationships less private and significantly more official. Further, since People-to-People celebrated that they “leaped governments” to create international relationships, women who previously had little official power according to national standards of diplomacy seized the opening the language of volunteerism carved to make themselves central to the practice of citizen-diplomacy. Instead, the occasional partnership between Army officials and local civilian groups and the remarkable resilience of community programs despite shifting American foreign policy suggests that something closer to Iriye’s “two worlds” was at work.23 The historiographies of Eisenhower’s non-public people-to-people initiatives, cultural diplomacy, and military education and training as vestiges of the supposedly “real” world of state power dwell on decline. As an example of sub-state international exchange, underwritten as it was by a major State and Defense Department program, sponsorship programs for foreign military families reveal the persistence 22 Enloe, Bananas, Beaches and Bases, 196. 23 Iriye, “Internationalizing International History,” 53. 225 of initiative for cultural exchange and peace that Iriye considers not “imaginary” at all, but actually the main story. The Informational Program: Cultural Diplomacy, Military Assistance, and More When the Departments of State and Defense first seriously evaluated the effectiveness of the Informational Program within the international military education and training program in 1971, they recognized that it was impossible to untangle the “official” lessons in American politics, economy, and culture from the initiatives of community members to provide hospitality, sponsor families, home visits, and social activities.24 State Department inspectors acknowledged that for Americans and visiting military personnel alike, unofficial interaction with local families had become the “most effective” aspect of the program.25 Sponsor families offered “a contact with the local civilian world” and offered “the most accurate view of life in America as it is actually lived.”26 Sponsors initiated home visits, facilitated “attendance at sports events,” and the sponsor “or his wife solve[d] shopping problems.”27 The sponsor became the foreign military trainee’s “guide, philosopher, and friend.”28 We could read these observations by the State Department’s Inspector General for Foreign Assistance as endorsements for the ordinary Americans’ enthusiasm for cultural diplomacy objectives, but they also suggest official unease with American communities’ initiative. Despite 1960s modernization theorists’ statist proclivities, historian Nils Gilman argues, “Modernization theory deemed good governance to be of the people and for the people, 24 See chapter 3, above. Campbell and Strauss, “Memorandum from Neil H. Campbell and Elliot B. Strauss, Office of the Inspector General of Foreign Assistance, U.S. Department of State, to Anthony Faunce, Acting Inspector General, Department of State, November 15, 1971, Subject: Review of Military Assistance Training - Informational Program and Orientation Tours,” 10–11. 25 Ibid., 11. 26 Ibid. 27 Ibid. 28 Ibid. 226 but most assuredly not by the people.”29 The State Department’s inspectors recognized that the sponsor program evolved organically around foreign military visitors, but the sponsor program had preceded—and would likely outlive—official cooperation with the military bases.30 Formal diplomatic structures wielded no intellectual influence over the content of the exchange between visitors and sponsor families—a potentially subversive arrangement. Still, just as government agents consented to share with local civic groups “the financial obligations for picnics, luncheons, invitations to sporting events, visits to local industries, courts, newspapers labor meetings, and other activities leading toward the achievement of [Informational Program] objectives,” they also assumed that any cultural or intellectual exchange would benefit American foreign policy objectives.31 Department of Defense officials at specific military schools did not lament the absence of overriding intellectual or diplomatic control over the cultural contact inherent in international military education and training. Since 1963 their mission was to provide “a balanced understanding . . . of United States society, institutions, and ideals,” and emphasized trips and tours as the ideal method to present that understanding.32 From the beginning, however, local directors of international programs cherished their intellectual independence. Colonel William Pipkin, who directed Fort Leavenworth’s Office of Allied Personnel between 1969 and 1972, enjoyed offering unconventional lessons in American life, such as “when we took them to Washington, D.C. one year, all of the speakers that we had were black professors from Howard 29 Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 18 Emphasis in original. 30 Campbell and Strauss, “Memorandum from Neil H. Campbell and Elliot B. Strauss, Office of the Inspector General of Foreign Assistance, U.S. Department of State, to Anthony Faunce, Acting Inspector General, Department of State, November 15, 1971, Subject: Review of Military Assistance Training - Informational Program and Orientation Tours,” 7. 31 Ellis, “Memorandum from Atlee R. Ellis, U.S. Air Force, Deputy Directory of Military Assistance and Sales to Defense Security Assistance Agency (Comptroller), 23 December 1971, Subject: IGA Report, ‘Review of Military Assistance Training - Informational Program and Orientation Tours,’” 1. 32 Gilpatrick, “Memorandum for the Service Secretaries from the Deputy Secretary of Defense, September 13, 1963; Subject: An Informational Program for Foreign Military Trainees and Visitors in the United States,” 2. 227 University, and they didn’t paint a very beautiful picture as far as the treatment of blacks and the potential for blacks.”33 After trips like this, he recalled, visiting officers “were amazed that we would take them and show them the bad as well as the good,” and that Americans’ openness “changed how they felt about people in the United States.”34 In 1979, the Defense Security Assistance Agency also warned against heavy-handed “ideological” indoctrination in the Informational Program, suggesting, “Preaching and exhortation in a classroom would be counterproductive; it is best to let the IMET trainees learn by seeing and experiencing.”35 In 1990, they reiterated, “IMET is a people-to-people program. Its aims and purposes are long range in nature and scope.”36 As the largest of the American services’ institutions of advanced military education, Fort Leavenworth’s Command and General Staff College’s diverse student body made it a representative example of how the United States envisioned its role in educating foreign officers and developing foreign militaries. Actually, several different schools resided at Ft. Leavenworth, including schools for sergeants, junior officers, senior officers and various technical specialties within the army.37 Command and General Staff College was the school for middle-ranking officers, usually Majors and Lieutenant Colonels, intended to prepare them for command positions. Since the mid-1950s, each annual class included about 1200 officers from the U.S. Army, Air Force, Navy, Marine Corps, and equivalent ranks among civilians within Department of Defense agencies. The school also hosted the most international officers of any single American military training organization, averaging between 90 and 120 international students 33 Col. William P. Pimkin [sic], interview by J. Patrick Hughes, transcript, August 6, 1992, 12, Box 1, Folder 21, CARL International Officer Collection; See also, Dudziak, Cold War Civil Rights, 13. 34 Pimkin [sic], interview, 12. 35 Harry O. Amos et al., U.S. Training of Foreign Military Personnel, Volume 1: Executive Summary (McLean, VA: General Research Corporation, Tactical Warfare Operations, March 1979), 6. 36 Manolas and Samelson, “The IMET Program: Report to Congress,” 20. 37 The overall name for the training facility at Ft. Leavenworth is the Combined Arms Center. “US Army Combined Arms Center and Fort Leavenworth Public Home Page,” accessed March 20, 2012, http://usacac.army.mil/cac2/index.asp. 228 per year, usually from 40 to 50 different nations each year. 38 By 1991, over 112 different allied nations had sent officers to Command and General Staff College, including at least thirty from Ghana since 1969. The school invited international officers to bring their spouses and children to Leavenworth, and most chose to.39 All international families resided off-post in the community around the towns of Leavenworth and Lansing, Kansas, with a combined population of roughly 30,000 between 1960 and 1990.40 Some aspects of the “broad inclusiveness” that modernization theorists claimed distinguished American modernity also knitted together social institutions around Fort Leavenworth.41 Local civilians’ participation in the Command and General Staff College’s international officer program, for example, represented the consensus between the state and charities, universities, businesses, and international organizations that David Ekbladh described as characterizing the American modernization “mission.”42 The Informational Program’s recommended schedule of tours of local labor unions and agricultural facilities, and visits with “leaders of opposition parties” signified faith that liberal capitalism’s successes could inspire the foreign officer to become “modern,” and that he would nurture modernity when he returned home. Still, the plan had its limits. First, military education and training programs affected very small numbers of officers from each country. Using Ghana as an example, between 1969 and 1992, for example, only 38 “International Officer Program” slide in Eggering, “Class Director’s Mission Statement”; Jim Fain, “Re: A Very Quick Question,” March 20, 2012; Between 1956 and 1967, the numbers are complicated by the presence of two different courses--a “regular” and “associate” course. By 1967 the “associate” courses went away, and the quota was 97 international officers, roughly 10%. Pipkin, “Allied Personnel at USACGSC.” 39 In the late 1980s, approximately 70% of visiting officers were accompanied by family members. Eggering, “Class Director’s Mission Statement.” 40 “KANSAS Population of Counties by Decennial Census: 1900 to 1990,” U.S. Census Bureau, March 27, 1995, http://www.census.gov/population/cencounts/ks190090.txt; In 1990, the ethnic/racial composition of Leavenworth Kansas was approx. 75% white, 15% Black or African American, 8% Hispanic or Latino. Self-reported racial data in a census has methodological limits, so these figures are rough estimates. U. S. Census Bureau, “American FactFinder - Results,” U.S. Census Bureau, accessed March 31, 2014, http://factfinder2.census.gov/faces/tableservices/jsf/pages/productview.xhtml?pid=DEC_10_SF1_QTP3. 41 Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 20; Ekbladh, The Great American Mission, 136. 42 Ekbladh, The Great American Mission, 154. 229 thirty Ghanaian officers attended Fort Leavenworth’s Command and General Staff College.43 Although some Ghanaian historians acknowledge a “proud” military tradition, it is far from certain that Ghanaian military officers of the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s would be considered “elites.”44 In addition, this school did not export “technology” in the sense of training in complex military equipment, but rather lessons in the value of technology. Its curriculum emphasized leadership and organizational skills for senior leaders. Aside from a graduate’s lapel pin, it produced no public landmark to commemorate American largesse. The community around Fort Leavenworth exemplifies how unofficial relationships filled gaps left because the Informational Program only targeted military members themselves, not their wives. The list of “significant facets of American life” that remained part of the Informational Program since its inception in 1963 changed little in three decades, but the Informational Program regulated only part of the interaction between visiting military families and the local community. Unofficial social events and networks for foreign officers and their families sprouted spontaneously around the Command and General Staff College after 1950. Civilian sponsor families from began hosting international officers in 1952, supplementing the Army-assigned “military” sponsor each international officer already received. In 1962, volunteers from the new Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People began providing each international officer and his family with a third sponsor family to introduce them to “Kansas City life.” Both “Leavenworth sponsors” and “Kansas City sponsors” organized picnics, formal dinners, and informal social events for sponsors and their international officers’ families throughout the year. Sometimes the local organizations coordinated their activities with the 43 This data obtained by surveying the plaques lining the walls at the Lewis and Clark Hall, CGSC, Ft. Leavenworth, Kansas 44 Addae argues,“In the 1940s and 1950s no sensible young man with secondary education (and these were overwhelmingly southerners) would want to be a soldier.” Addae, A Short History of Ghana Armed Forces, viii. 230 Army, and sometimes the Army contributed funds, but in most cases, the local volunteers interpreted the events’ meanings according to their own motives. What made the Informational Program so critical was that it officially declared the totality of American community and cultural life a valid topic for military education. The program itself touched only a fraction of the foreign elites participating in American military education, and as we have seen, produced very few measurable results in either military capability or strategic realignment.45 No bother; the program’s most valuable lessons were “long- term,” psychological, and hard to quantify. Even if they wanted to, the Directors of Allied Personnel at Fort Leavenworth could not monopolize social and cultural exchange occurring off post or insulate visiting officers and their families from Leavenworth and Kansas City volunteers. On a practical level, since seventy percent of each class’s foreign officers brought their families, and all families lived off-post, Directors of Allied Personnel needed neighbors and volunteers to help visitors move in.46 As we have seen, the assumptions that the life among ordinary Americans had transformative power permeated official and unofficial descriptions of the international program since its inception. Civilians around the Fort understood the assumptions, largely shared them, and celebrated their role providing the hospitality and friendship they felt the U.S. Army empowered them to share. Fort Leavenworth personnel could not have limited the community’s initiative if they tried. 45 See chapters 1 and 3. 46 Fort Leavenworth began permitting foreign officers’ families to live on-post after 2002. Jeanne Boetig, Interview with Jeanne Boetig at Leavenworth Public Library, February 12, 2014, Author’s possession. 231 How International Officers’ Families and the Town of Leavenworth Kansas Came to Know Each Other Even though the names and shapes of the unofficial social programs for visiting officers’ families changed over the years, military wives and civilian women in the town of Leavenworth continued to lead them all. In 1947, the Leavenworth Officers Wives Club created the “Pan American Group” to cater to Latin American officers and families whose numbers swelled during World War II.47 The international program grew during the Cold War. By 1960 over 1,800 international officers—roughly 100 per class—from sixty-one different countries had attended the staff college.48 By then, the former Director of Allied Programs recalled, the “International Group” subcommittee of the Officers Wives Club was “well organized and operating at full steam.”49 Within the International Group, “language groups” evolved for families of German, Spanish, and French speakers to meet for monthly social events—usually involving tea.50 In 1968, a “Middle East” group formed.51 By the 1980s, the groups gathered women based on mixed categories of language, region, and culture, including groups for French, German, English speakers from Europe and the Commonwealth, “Latin”—Spanish and Portuguese, and Arabic.52 Reflecting their blurred lines of responsibility, between 1950 and 1990 other unofficial auxiliary programs were called the “International Officers Program,” “Operation International” 47 Reichley, International Officers: A Century of Participation at the United States Army Command and General Staff College, 15. 48 In the 1950s, CGSC offered “regular” one-year courses, with about 80 International officers per class, and two six-month “associated courses” with 30-35 International Officers each. By 1967, the staff college offered one year- long class per year, with about 100 officers per class. Pipkin, “Allied Personnel at USACGSC”; U.S. Army, Fort Leavenworth: From Frontier Post to Home of the United States Army Command and General Staff College, 1964, 51. 49 Pipkin, “Programs for Allied Officers.” 50 Dottie Burks, “From the Fort: Allied Wives Tea,” The Leavenworth Times, July 18, 1965, 4B, Leavenworth Public Library; Unknown, “Welcoming Tea,” The Leavenworth Times, August 18, 1970, 6, Leavenworth Public Library. 51 Barbara Ford, “From the Fort: Language Group,” The Leavenworth Times, October 1, 1968, 12, Leavenworth Public Library. 52 Boetig, Interview with Jeanne Boetig at Leavenworth Public Library. 232 or “Program for Allied Officers,” depending on the source. The Officers Wives Club, the Leavenworth Jaycees (which dissolved in the early 1970s), and the Leavenworth-Lansing Chamber of Commerce’s separate Operation International committee and Women’s Division formed temporary coalitions year-round to arrange activities for visiting officers and their families. They staffed registration booths in the first days of each class to enroll newly arrived officers and their families in the Officers Wives Club and sponsorship program. They hosted picnics for international families, coordinated off-base sponsor families for each visiting family, held wives’ coffee klatches, food fairs, international “fashion shows,” and conducted the annual “American Language Program” that taught newly arrived families lessons in American culture.53 The groups’ activities blended with one another, with no clear line distinguishing unofficial from officially sanctioned activities for officers’ families. Staff college leaders actually depended on the unpaid social services the Leavenworth community provided international officers’ families, but needed not fear the vulnerability of that position. The International Group began as a “wives” organization, but with a hierarchy that mirrored the military chain of command. Before 1970, the Command and General Staff College Commandant’s wife personally selected the President of the International Group.54 She was usually a Colonel or Lieutenant Colonel’s wife, one former Director of Allied Operations recalled, wife “with plenty of backing for her projects.”55 Most American students were Majors, so the International Group president “outranked” any American spouses who were new to the group. She coordinated the language groups, ran monthly gatherings for tea, organized the international “food fairs” and fashion shows, and coordinated with community organizations for larger programs. She also acted as a bridge between the Commandant and the community leaders 53 Pipkin, “Programs for Allied Officers.” 54 Unknown, “International Group,” c 1992, Box 1, Folder 3, CARL International Officer Collection. 55 Ibid. 233 who supported Fort Leavenworth’s programs for international officers and their wives.56 As a senior officer’s wife, she represented to the wives and children of visiting officers a domestic version of the staff college syllabus. In the 1960s, as the off-post, civilian-run “Operation International” organizational structure supplanted some of the on-post Officers Wives Club activities, women maintained their control over the content of off-duty events. The civilian sponsor program was the most visible. In 1953, the Leavenworth Jaycees formally expanded the sponsor program that had previously assigned only an American military officer to assist each incoming international officer to provide a “civilian” sponsor or sponsor family for each visiting officer and his family. A sponsor’s job was to “help the allies get settled in the community and feel at home. They have them in their homes for visits and meals to show them how the American family lives,” and to provide “all those things of courtesy and hospitality one would expect to do for an old friend newly arrived on station.”57 The new “civilian” program paralleled the “military” sponsor, with formal staff college support, coordinated by the Operation International committee of the Leavenworth-Lansing Chamber of Commerce.58 By 1991, the international military student office boasted that over 500 local families had served as sponsors, some for as long as thirty-six consecutive years.59 The army instructed all sponsors, civilian and military, that “a close and supportive relationship between yourself and the IO [international officer] is essential in providing an accurate view of what America is and who Americans are. This is as important as 56 Ibid. 57 Dolly Gordon, “Operation International,” Leavenworth Times, January 17, 1982, 2, Leavenworth Public Library; Unknown, “First Ally Attended in ’94,” The Leavenworth Times, August 18, 1968, 8B, Leavenworth Public Library. 58 The term “civilian sponsor” specifically differs from the “military sponsor.” We break down “civilian sponsors” further into “Leavenworth sponsors” and “Kansas City sponsors.” 59 “Sponsorship” slide Eggering, “Class Director’s Mission Statement.” 234 the IOs military training.”60 Again, the Army reaffirmed local civilians’ authority to interpret and transmit the essential meaning of “what America is and who Americans are” for themselves. The Operation International committee was not technically a women’s organization, but women chose to lead it. When the Leavenworth Jaycees ran the sponsorship program before 1974, a husband/wife team chaired the committee.61 In 1974, Georgia Capshaw, wife of retired CGSC Chief of Staff Colonel Benjamin Capshaw, took over the program, continuing the traditional relationship between the formal base organization and community women.62 Between 1974 and 1995, only three women, Georgia Capshaw, Mary Kalhorn, and Dolly Gordon presided over Operation International.63 The Chamber of Commerce also included a Military Relations committee to coordinate public affairs events with the Fort, but Operation International directed the two most visible joint programs: the sponsor program and the American Language Course. The “American Language Course” represented a synthesis of the Command and General Staff College’s military training, the Informational Program’s broad campaign to impress the lessons of “modernity,” and modern American domestic ideals. Since the 1950s, foreign military members received formal English language training prior to beginning the staff college, but their families rarely did.64 In 1977, Joanna Pipkin, wife of the Director of Allied Personnel at the time, reached out to the Leavenworth community for help. Pipkin pitched the idea to Sister Maria Edwards, an English professor at nearby St. Mary College, and in July, the American Language 60 U.S. Army Command and General Staff College, “CGSC Circular 351-6; Sponsor’s Guide” (U.S. Army Command and General Staf College, May 1991), 1, Box 1, Folder 16, CARL International Officer Collection. Emphasis added. 61 Unknown, “Operation International,” c 1992, Box 1, Folder 3, CARL International Officer Collection. 62 Ibid. 63 Mary Kalhorn, “Operation International,” Leavenworth Times, January 18, 1981, 5, Leavenworth Public Library; Gordon, “Operation International,” 2; Dolly Gordon, “Operation International Sponsors Officers, Families,” Leavenworth Times, January 18, 1987, 2, Leavenworth Public Library; Boetig, Interview with Jeanne Boetig at Leavenworth Public Library. 64 Although specific data is unavailable, anecdotal evidence strongly suggests that before 1992, female foreign officers were extraordinarily rare at Leavenworth. There were, as far as I can tell, no “husbands” at the American Language Course. 235 Course for Allied Wives and Children began.65 Classes met three times per week during the month of July, just before the staff college classes began. Under the direction of Dolly Gordon, president of the Operation International committee of the Chamber of Commerce, the program expanded and moved to the local Presbyterian church and school, which provided nursery and kindergarten facilities for mothers with small children.66 The women who ran it carefully controlled the size and scope of the course. In 1984, forty-three officers’ wives and their children attended.67 In 1986, there were fifty-nine wives and 136 children.68 Partly to ensure the event remained “civilian” and free from tensions caused by competing ranks, Gordon prohibited American spouses of military officers from volunteering with the course.69 Instead, volunteers from the local American Association of University Women (AAUW) chapter supplied half of the course’s twenty-four teachers. Active and retired public school teachers, college, and high school students also volunteered.70 To encourage Islamic women who were reluctant to participate in public gatherings, Gordon carefully excluded all men from the church except those giving presentations.71 The Leavenworth Rotary club, the Chamber of Commerce, the Officers Wives Club, the AAUW, and the city Superintendent of Schools’ office also provide financial or material support to the course.72 The course changed its name to the American Orientation Course in the late 1980s, deemphasizing formal English classes for wives while simultaneously expanding to include English lessons for international children up to age eighteen. “All involved agree,” William Pipkin told the Leavenworth Times, “that this is not 65 Unknown, “American Language Course,” c 1992, Box 1, Folder 3, CARL International Officer Collection. 66 Gordon, “Operation International,” 2. 67 Unknown, “Allied Wives Can Now Communicate in English,” The Leavenworth Times, April 6, 1984, Box 1, Folder 4, CARL International Officer Collection. 68 Unknown, “AMERICAN LANGUAGE COURSE FOR ALIED WIVES AND CHILDREN,” Fact Sheet, (July 1986), Box 1, Folder 4, CARL International Officer Collection. 69 Boetig, Interview with Jeanne Boetig at Leavenworth Public Library. 70 William P. Pipkin, “American Language Classes Termed Successful,” Leavenworth Times, July 31, 1983, 2D, Leavenworth Public Library. 71 Boetig, Interview with Jeanne Boetig at Leavenworth Public Library. 72 Unknown, “American Language Course.” 236 long enough to really teach a non-English speaker to learn the American language, however it gives them a start and there are many other pluses for the one-month course.”73 In addition to teaching the basics of the American language, the American Language Course promised an “introduction to U.S. Midwestern culture [and] way of life.”74 This included lessons in Midwestern womanhood. The course “introduces them to things that are different such as measurements and clothing sizes; it introduces them to the City Library and all the children are enrolled in the RIF [Reading is Fundamental] program,” William Pipkin recalled.75 The 1979 move to the First Presbyterian Church enabled mothers to deposit their children with American babysitters during the course.76 By 1983 the course included lectures on “How to Use Cosmetics,” “Easy Recipes,” “Cooking and How to Use Kitchen Appliances,” and “Needlework,” as well as lectures in safety by the county sheriff and in library services from the Leavenworth Public Library.77 Like the “international food fairs” and “international fashion shows,” which celebrated both the diversity of each Command and General Staff College class and built camaraderie between families, the American Language Course had the additional effect of confirming to foreign officers that modern American wives should cook, sew, and be comfortable placing their children in the hands of competent authorities for education and nurturing. More than just implying that social events, food, and fashion were “female” American spheres, the Leavenworth community actually resembled a mirror hierarchy of women representing the entire Command and General Staff College’s international mission. The feminist 73 W. P. Pipkin, “Allied Officers Families Receive Course in American Language,” The Leavenworth Times, July 18, 1982, Box 1, Folder 4, CARL International Officer Collection. 74 Eggering, “Class Director’s Mission Statement.” 75 Pipkin, “Allied Officers Families Receive Course in American Language.” 76 Pipkin, “Programs for Allied Officers.” 77 Unknown, “American Language Course”; Unknown, “Allied Wives Can Now Communicate in English”; Pipkin, “American Language Classes Termed Successful,” 2D. 237 insight that “the personal is political” also applies to international politics, Cynthia Enloe argues in Bananas, Beaches, and Bases: therefore, “the personal is international.”78 To understand the multiple directions power flows in international relationships, she argues, “we have to read power backwards and forwards.”79 Even in supposedly official diplomatic contexts, private relationships were never merely social. When “read forward,” Enloe says, “the personal is international” implies that “ideas about what it means to be a ‘respectable’ woman or an ‘honorable’ man have been shaped by colonizing policies, trading strategies and military doctrines.”80 “Read backward,” she says, “the international is personal” implies that governments depended on wives to provide “their diplomatic husbands” with unpaid social services such as polite and discreet hospitality as an essential element of formal diplomacy. In American communities, Officers Wives Club and Operation International activities represented both of these readings, for different reasons, but also added another. The ideologies of modernization that shaped and continued to justify the international military education and training program after 1960 applied equally to the spouses of targeted military officers. It remained an objective of American foreign relations that the families of military elites should also receive lessons in American modernity. Seventy percent of the 100 to 120 foreign officers in each annual class brought their spouses and children to Fort Leavenworth, but the formal Informational Program only provided tours and lectures for the Allied officers. The sponsor program helped fill the gap in informal ways, but the American Language Course mirrored the Informational Programs’ political, economic, and cultural educational objectives more concretely. The course clearly provided a valuable social experience and relieved some stress on the officers themselves by building international support networks among wives. The 78 Enloe, Bananas, Beaches and Bases, 196. 79 Ibid. 80 Ibid. 238 fort celebrated the “symbiosis” between the community and the military, its leaders suggested, while social functions helped break down political barriers between participating nations.81 It was more than just an “ice breaker,” however. In its educational setting, where all the international women were equally foreign, national distinctions and rivalries broke down.82 The American Language Course also gave the community the opportunity to intervene early in each family’s year in Kansas to deliver its expectations of the visitors’ behavior in restaurants, traffic, grocery and department stores, and the library.83 The course’s semi-official status and base- affiliated leadership reinforced the power of the message. Some aspects of the American Language Course mirror imperialist applications of the “civilizing mission” disguised as domesticity. Capitalist expansion in the twentieth century commodified consumer goods, especially household and hygiene items, to signify social differences, prescribe ever-shifting criteria of modernity, and justify American and European intervention worldwide.84 During the Cold War, historian Emily Rosenberg argues, “Representations of American women continued to be a central icon in this equation. America = modernity = consumption = freedom= modern women.”85 In his 1959 “Kitchen Debate” with Nikita Khrushchev, Richard Nixon staged the modern American kitchen to reinforce that point.86 Walt W. Rostow labeled the ultimate phase in his taxonomy of modernization “The Age of High Mass Consumption”87 On the other hand, as Timothy Burke argues in Lifebuoy Men, Lux 81 “The Leavenworth Experience” slide in Eggering, “Class Director’s Mission Statement”; May Lutton et al., interview by J. Patrick Hughes, transcript, February 11, 1992, 11, Box 1, Folder 19, CARL International Officer Collection. 82 John Reichley, “Ah, Those Volunteers,” Newspaper article, (July 23, 1987), Box 1 Folder 4, CARL International Officer Collection. 83 Unknown, “Allied Wives Can Now Communicate in English.” 84 Timothy James Burke, Lifebuoy Men, Lux Women: Commodification, Consumption and Cleanliness in Modern Zimbabwe (Durham, NC: Duke University press, 1996), 214–216; Emily S. Rosenberg, “Consuming Women: Images of Americanization in the ‘American Century,’” Diplomatic History 23, no. 3 (1999): 279–480; Lizabeth Cohen, A Consumers’ Republic: The Politics of Mass Consumption in Postwar America (New York: Knopf, 2003). 85 Rosenberg, “Consuming Women,” 487. 86 Ibid., 290. 87 Rostow, The Process of Economic Growth: A Non-Communist Manifesto, 10. 239 Women, “consumer needs are no less real for having a history, no less deeply felt for having been part of the world that global capitalism and colonialism have made.”88 Sponsor families recalled that visiting women actually needed to know how to read American food labels, the English words for spices, and American standards for clothing sizes.89 The assumption that life among American communities transformed visitors from poorer states that buttressed American international military education and training policy for three decades required such a transfer of modern consumer habits. On the other hand, American women also specifically discounted their role as agents of American foreign policy and related to the officers’ families they sponsored simply as friends.90 Future study may plumb the extent that American women failed to recognize their role as tools of imperialism disguised as modernity, or whether hospitality in providing lessons in American-style domesticity masked a false consciousness. As journalists and newsletter editors, women played prominent roles describing and interpreting the events for international officers around Fort Leavenworth, as the next section explores. Even there, though, women emphasized the universality of their relationships as wives or mothers, and they praised “Midwestern” hospitality. American women clearly enjoyed leading organizations for international visitors and they valued their international friendships, but how they reconciled their roles as international mentors with changing attitudes toward work, home, and family in the United States requires a different set of questions and sources. Not surprisingly, visiting women left very little written evidence describing their impressions of life around Fort Leavenworth or their relationships with their sponsors. Any of their words that do appear come filtered through newspaper or newsletter 88 Burke, Lifebuoy Men, Lux Women, 216. 89 Boetig, Interview with Jeanne Boetig at Leavenworth Public Library; Sarah McLeod, Interview with Sarah McLeod at Leavenworth Public Library, February 11, 2014, Author’s possession. 90 McLeod, Interview with Sarah McLeod at Leavenworth Public Library; Boetig, Interview with Jeanne Boetig at Leavenworth Public Library; Charlene Arts and Arnie Arts, Interview with Charlene and Arnie Arts at Leavenworth Public Library, January 15, 2014, Author’s possession. 240 editors for public consumption. Describing the American Language Course in 1987, one AAUW volunteer hinted at the challenge of understanding visiting women’s perspectives: “Teachers should not assume that the students understand, even though they may be nodding their heads as if they do.”91 Volunteering also offered rewards. “Dolly Gordon was a powerful woman,” a former leader of the International Group recalled.92 “It was not enough for me to invite the twenty Europeans to my home. I needed to include the general’s wives, and Dolly Gordon . . . and the president of the Officers Wives Club.”93 The Officers Wives Club also provided leadership opportunities and titles that revolved regularly as military personnel rotated in an out of Fort Leavenworth. The Chamber Women’s Division nurtured its relationship with the post by inviting international wives to speak at their luncheons, distributing to new arrivals information about the city of Leavenworth, and helping register them in the Officers Wives Club.94 In return, the Women’s Division flourished, and the Chamber celebrated the women’s initiative. In 1981, for example, the Women’s Division listed 179 members, compared to 450 or so in the rest of the Chamber of Commerce.95 Francis Thorne, President of the Leavenworth-Lansing Chamber of Commerce in 1982, boasted, “few chambers have an independent Women’s Division as we do in Leavenworth. But that difference is possibly our strongest force. The Women’s Division lends support, power, leadership and inspiration to every facet of our battle to create a more vibrant 91 Unknown, “Community Action Project (AAUW Co-Sponsors),” c 1987, Box 1, Folder 4, CARL International Officer Collection. 92 Boetig, Interview with Jeanne Boetig at Leavenworth Public Library. 93 Ibid. 94 Rosemary Wettig, “Chamber Women’s Division,” Leavenworth Times, January 18, 1981, Leavenworth Public Library; Jeanette Allison, “Women’s Division Active,” Leavenworth Times, January 21, 1985, Leavenworth Public Library. 95 Wettig, “Chamber Women’s Division,” 7; Lee Farnsworth, “Past President’s Report,” Leavenworth Times, January 18, 1981, 2, Leavenworth Public Library The list of at-large members also included women who were not members of the Women’s Division. Some of the “members” listed were actually businesses, thus the estimate. 241 Leavenworth area.”96 Serving international officers’ families offered local women conspicuous leadership opportunities in public spheres. It was more than a coincidence that Leavenworth women largely organized those opportunities, directed their implementation, and interpreted their meaning for the community. In addition to organizing and running the off-post activities that united American and international families, women dominated the manner in which residents of Leavenworth received information about the base after 1960. The Leavenworth Times published short “From the Fort” articles twice weekly that included announcements about social programs, school events, courses and classes for wives in a variety of subjects, information about immunization clinics, sports leagues, concerts and shows, swim lessons, and red cross training, to name a few. Each year, the “From the Fort” column announced and described the Allied officer picnics, the Officers Wives Club International Group, the Food Fairs, and Fashion Shows. No editor explained why, but only women wrote this column.97 Before July 1968, “From the Fort” appeared on the “Social and Personal” page of the Times, next to “Dear Abby” and “Dear Polly.” Without comment, on July 31, 1968 the Times editors renamed the “Social and Personal” page to “Women,” and the “From the Fort” column remained on the “Women” page until 1985, when “People/Events” replaced the “Women” page and “From the Fort” disappeared from the Times. Each January between 1981 and 1987, the Women’s Division and Operation International also reasserted their mandate as the primary liaison between Leavenworth citizens and visiting officers’ families from up to fifty different nations around the world in the Leavenworth-Lansing Chamber of Commerce’s Annual Report insert in the Times. Year after year, the average reader of the Leavenworth Times received 96 Francis X. Thorne, “The President’s Report,” Leavenworth Times, January 17, 1982, 2, Leavenworth Public Library. 97 There may have been others, but a search of Leavenworth Times editions between 1963 and 1985 revealed the following bylines: 1963: Katherine Elder; 1964: Sue Kimball, Ellen Simoni; 1965: Dottie Burks; 1968: Barbara Ford; 1970: Diana Reeder, Kay Piotrzkowski; 1972: Laura Scheerer; 1973: Peggy Tomberlin; 1974: Dorothy Mayville; 1978: Peggy Toohey; 1980s: Diane Kochaniewicz 242 twice-weekly updates “From the Fort” written by Leavenworth women, on the “Women” page of the paper, and emphasizing women’s opportunities to volunteer or join the fort’s services. Operation International and the Officers Wives Club offered local women real power, but power was not the only motive for volunteering. Local men also volunteered to sponsor and serve international officers and their families. “Being part of sponsoring a family or an unaccompanied student officer is fun. It’s educational. It’s enjoyable.” John Reichley wrote in the Leavenworth Times in the same year the “From the Fort” section disappeared and the “Women” section became “People/Events.”98 “If you would like to participate in a program that will enable you to learn all about another country, and possibly form lifelong friendships you can. But not this year. All the sponsor positions are filled.”99 For most people, sponsoring international officers’ families was personally rewarding. The Officers Wives Club sponsored International Food Fairs and Fashion Shows annually after 1960 because they were interesting and fun. They held “American” food demonstrations for international families early in the school year to demonstrate “the preparation of foods unique to America,” especially “thaw and serve” and “the packaged-instant variety,” but at the two International Food Fairs, where Allied families shared native dishes with the community, tickets sold out each year.100 In 1985, one local remembered, there was “keema from Pakistan, a salad from Nepal, yaki-man-do from Korea/USA, rice and peanut butter from the Ivory Coast, pasticcia from Greece, tempura and sushi from Japan, couscous from Algeria, and 98 John Reichley, “Picnic With International Flavor,” Leavenworth Times, August 9, 1985, 4, Leavenworth Public Library In 1985, John Reichley wrote small articles similar to the “From the Fort” series twice weekly for the “Times.” His articles were more relfective, and did not announce upcoming events or report on past ones in as much detail. 99 Ibid. 100 Kay Piotrzkowski, “From the Fort: Food Demonstration,” The Leavenworth Times, August 18, 1970, 6, Leavenworth Public Library; Rita Channon, “Allied Wives Learn American Short-Cuts,” The Lamp, September 5, 1973, 5, Leavenworth Lamp Microfilm Collection, CARL; John Reichley, “Where Else on Earth?,” Leavenworth Times, October 31, 1985, 4, Leavenworth Public Library; Reichley, International Officers: A Century of Participation at the United States Army Command and General Staff College, 29. 243 Norwegian meat balls from, of all places, Norway.”101 “Where else on earth?” John Reichley mused, could a person enjoy nsima and sadza from Malawi and Zimbabwe, kebbeh from Lebanon, semmelknodel from German, cabbage tamalitos from Honduras, biryani shrimp from Oman, tinga from Mexico, limpia sauce from the Philippines, okra and rice from Liberia, and kartoffelauflauf from Switzerland in one meal?102 Women’s groups organized the events, but even unaccompanied bachelor officers participated. In 1985, for example, three unaccompanied Kenyans and their civilian sponsor procured and roasted a goat for the food fair.103 At the fashion show in 1980, 500 guests and 78 models—wives, daughters, and sons—representing 28 visiting nations packed the Leavenworth High School gymnasium to demonstrate their homelands’ fashions. Afterward, the entire crowd joined in a chorus of “Let There Be Peace On Earth.”104 Although the International Food Fairs and Fashion Shows were always a new experience for the international guests, for the Officers Wives Club and Leavenworth sponsors they were also well-rehearsed annual rituals of internationalism. “Let There Be Peace On Earth” did not spontaneously erupt from guests in kimonos and lederhosen, overwhelmed with fraternal love. Organizers cued the song up as part of the ritual. Still, for each new group of international guests, it no doubt appeared fresh. Like the descriptions of the annual rodeos, sources dwell on these events as both typical expressions of Americans’ celebration of diversity as well as the particular internationalism of the civilian-military-international community around Fort Leavenworth. “Where else on Earth” could such events occur, the Times asked.105 Leaders of People-to-People might argue that the answer could have equally been: “Kansas City” or “Mid-Western America.” But congregating to celebrate specifically domestic aspects of international cultural exchange 101 Reichley, “Where Else on Earth?,” 4. 102 Ibid. 103 John Reichley, “They Got Their Goat,” Leavenworth Times, November 10, 1985, 4, Leavenworth Public Library. 104 Diane Kochaniewicz, “Allied Fashion Show Trip Around the World,” The Leavenworth Times, March 16, 1980, Box 1, Folder 17 “Journal Articles-misc. 1953-1998,” CARL International Officer Collection. 105 Reichley, “Where Else on Earth?,” 4. 244 (food and clothing) as part of the education of military officers from around the world demonstrated an explicit intervention between American women and international wives. It was explicit, yet unofficial; and could not have occurred without the tacit cooperation of American military assistance policymakers. Women and men still became sponsors to make friends, and international character intensified the experience. At Christmas, for example, the German liaison officer at the staff college hosted a serene and poignant Christmas program at the Fort’s Memorial Chapel where German officers’ families, American officers and sponsor families, and even German-born Kansans “who wanted to share in the traditional church celebration from the ‘Old Country’” gathered to sing and pray in English and German.106 In 1987, longtime sponsor John Reichley recalled, the German wife of a CGSC student met there a former German soldier who served alongside her father in World War II.107 “It was that kind of evening,” Reichley contemplated. “One for old friends, new friends, and total strangers, sharing in a special kind of ceremony. We’re all glad we went.”108 Francis and Eunice Alexander of Leavenworth sponsored the officer from India every year between 1962 and 1986.109 They maintained a cupboard full of Indian spices to pass from year to year; they had travelled to India three times to visit their old friends; and the Allied Personnel Office periodically called them for information about India.110 Zureida Mutalib of Malaysia, Geeta Shah and Aruna Thata of Nepal, all in native dress, discussed their countries and lifestyles at the Women’s Division quarterly luncheon in 1982.111 Dolly and Ed Gordon visited their former sponsoree, Pakistani President and 1963 CGSC alumnus Muhammad 106 John Reichley, “Deutsche Weihnacht,” Leavenworth Times, December 18, 1986, 4, Leavenworth Public Library. 107 Ibid. 108 Ibid. 109 John Reichley, “Friends You Can Make,” Leavenworth Times, June 15, 1986, 4, Leavenworth Public Library. 110 Ibid. 111 Sally Graham, “Women’s Division of the Chamber,” Leavenworth Times, January 16, 1983, 5, Leavenworth Public Library. 245 Zia-Ul-Haq in Pakistan before his death in 1988.112 Renate Edwards, herself an immigrant from Germany, sponsored families from Morocco, Ethiopia, and Portugal, Iran, and Malaysia, and became a foster-mother for Margarita, the wife of a Greek officer who stayed in the United States to deliver her baby, after the rest of her family returned to Greece.113 Sponsorship cultivated extraordinary friendships. On the other hand, the United States’ extensive military interference in Latin America, Europe, Africa, and Asia made these bountiful international experiences possible. The United States brought these officers and their families to Fort Leavenworth—5,600 officers from 122 countries at Command and General Staff College between 1894 and 1994—via a military education and training program designed to expand American hegemony.114 From a different perspective, though, many sponsors empathized with visiting military families because of their own experience in the United States’ overseas empire. Three Leavenworth families, Charlene and Arnie Arts, Jeanne and Chris Boetig, and Sarah and Norman McLeod, with a combined 85 years of sponsoring between them, all acknowledged that their initial experience as daughters and wives of American military personnel stationed in Germany during the Cold War made them empathetic with Allied officers and their families in Kansas. Arnie Arts remembered: “When my wife and I got to Germany, we got off the plane and she said, ‘I need to use the restroom.’ I said, ‘Right over there.’ And she said ‘which one do I go to?’ So I saw the need right away for someone who is familiar with the area to help people who had not been there before. And as a result, when they asked me if I wanted to sponsor, I said I’d be more than happy to.”115 Jeanne 112 Reichley, International Officers: A Century of Participation at the United States Army Command and General Staff College, 25. 113 Unknown, “The Edwards May Visit Greece to Return a Hat,” The Leavenworth Times, January 11, 1971, 6, Leavenworth Public Library. 114 Reichley, International Officers: A Century of Participation at the United States Army Command and General Staff College, 36. 115 Arts and Arts, Interview with Charlene and Arnie Arts at Leavenworth Public Library. 246 Boetig remembered being the lonely wife of a lowly Second Lieutenant stationed in Bamberg Germany in 1976: “The empathy that I bring to the women is why I do what I do.”116 Stationed in Heidelberg with her Army father in 1948, Sarah McLeod traveled extensively: “My parents wanted us to be able to go and see all of these wonderful places, so I think travel is just in my blood.”117 Not all Leavenworth or Kansas City sponsors were former military, but many shared the experience of overseas military travel that America’s large overseas military presence made common and that placed particular demands on service members’ wives and children. Proximity to a military base that hosted so many international families facilitated Leavenworth volunteers’ international relationships, but militarism did not necessarily define them. Instead, inspired by the Army’s official endorsement of all aspects of American culture, residents of Leavenworth Kansas saw hosting foreign military personnel as a family endeavor. Kansas women led the programs that welcomed, registered, fed, and oriented visiting officers and their families within the community, partly because those things needed to be done and partly because the women volunteers felt empowered to do them. Other groups were less successful integrating international families into their strategies to expand their roles in the community. Local news sources did not associate hospitality for visiting military families from Africa, Latin America, or Asia with the American civil rights movement in the 1960s and 1970s. Off post, Kansas City’s major newspaper did not reveal whether non-white military families or international officers received different treatment than other non-whites in Kansas City.118 Neither the Leavenworth Times, the Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People, nor the 116 Boetig, Interview with Jeanne Boetig at Leavenworth Public Library. 117 McLeod, Interview with Sarah McLeod at Leavenworth Public Library. 118 The indexed clippings file from the KC Star/Times in the Missouri Valley Special Collections included civil rights topics as a subcategory, but no articles in that index discuss visiting military officers and their families. Further study, including a thorough search of KC Star/Times articles and a survey of the Kansas City Call and other African-American sources from the Kansas City area, may reveal more about this notable silence. 247 base’s own newspaper The Lamp explicitly named visiting officers’ races or commented on African American participation in the sponsorship program, even though racial turmoil rocked other Army facilities in the U.S. in the late sixties and early seventies.119 Fort Leavenworth instituted a Race Relations Council in August 1971 to take “positive actions to eliminate racial tensions and improve racial harmony” on the post, for example, and in March 1973 began requiring Army personnel to attend three-day race-relations workshops on “Inter-Racial Communication, Racial Awareness, Ethnic Minorities in American Life, and Racism.”120 The Lamp carefully detached general concerns with race in the United States in the 1970s from specific manifestations of racism in the Leavenworth community by echoing commentaries from non-locals. In 1973, for example, The Lamp commemorated “Brotherhood Day” at Fort Leavenworth by reprinting Reader’s Digest’s account of a rural Iowan elementary school teacher’s famous study in discrimination, under the title “Brown Eyes-Blue Eyes: An Unforgettable Experiment in Prejudice and Self-Delusion.”121 In 1976, The Lamp reprinted Assistant Secretary of Defense for Equal Opportunity H. Minton Francis’ comments on Black History Month, which encouraged all American military personnel “to insure that black history and all other non-European histories take their rightful place in American history.”122 Even when prodding Leavenworth readers to eschew “ethnocentrism,” the Fort’s paper carefully suggested 119 See, for example, James E Westheider, Fighting on Two Fronts: African Americans and the Vietnam War (New York: New York University Press, 1997); Samuel W. Black, ed., Soul Soldiers: African Americans and the Vietnam Era, Limited Edition, 1st ed. (Historical Society of Western Pennsylvania, 2006); On the Army as a positive site for integration, see: Charles C Moskos and John Sibley Butler, All That We Can Be: Black Leadership and Racial Integration the Army Way (New York, NY: Basic Books, 1996). 120 There was no official base publication between 1952 and 1971, when “The Lamp” resumed publication. Unknown, “Council Notes Post Race Problems,” The Lamp, October 24, 1972, 2, Leavenworth Lamp Microfilm Collection, CARL; Sandy Hughes, “Racial Understanding--Key to America’s Ideals,” The Lamp, March 21, 1973, 6–7, Leavenworth Lamp Microfilm Collection, CARL; Unknown, “Bias Exiting from Army; Colonel Sees Change,” Kansas City Star, July 30, 1972, Clippings File, Kansas City Public Library, Missouri Valley Special Collections. 121 Reader’s Digest excerpted “A Class Divided” by William Peters. Unknown, “Brown Eyes-Blue Eyes: An Unforgettable Experiment in Prejudice and Self-Delusion,” The Lamp, May 30, 1973, 6–7, Leavenworth Lamp Microfilm Collection, CARL; William Peters, A Class Divided (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1971). 122 Unknown, “All Cultures Need Due Recognition,” The Lamp, February 25, 1976, 2, Leavenworth Lamp Microfilm Collection, CARL. 248 that all Army personnel were capable of a variety of forms of discrimination. In 1978, for example, The Lamp prodded, “For those of you who have served tours overseas or moved to a different state, have you ever found yourself frowning on the way the local population operates on a day-to-day basis?”123 Discrimination and “ethnocentrism” were abstract evils in these articles, not specific consequences of regional or institutional racism. Instead, international visitors allowed the Fort and the Leavenworth community to celebrate the post’s “cosmopolitan atmosphere” without acknowledging race as a salient issue.124 At the 1975 International Food Fair, for example, The Lamp celebrated “160 different dishes were featured on the menu—from Australian mock kangaroo tail soup to a fish dish from Zaire.”125 Although it mentioned Zaire by name, this article later specifically listed every continent except Africa as a source for the 52 international officers at Command and General Staff College that year.126 Race was not completely absent from the post’s consciousness—on the same page, just below that 1975 “International Gourmands” article, The Lamp commemorated Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.127 Instead, the post disassociated international visitors from the community’s efforts to overcome racism. Sometimes, Leavenworth sources fabricated a straw man of prejudice in order to warn vaguely against “stereotyping” foreign visitors. “Not everyone from Spain is a bullfighter,” The Lamp scolded in 1974.128 “Be open- minded about him and his country, for he can teach you a great deal. Do not ask him degrading 123 Jack Kochenour and Larry Proctor, “Do You Practice Ethnocentrism?,” The Lamp, March 1, 1978, 17, Leavenworth Lamp Microfilm Collection, CARL. 124 Unknown, “Allies Contribute to Cosmopolitan Atmosphere,” The Lamp, August 8, 1974, 34, Leavenworth Lamp Microfilm Collection, CARL. 125 Unknown, “International Gourmands Feast at ‘Tasting,’” The Lamp, January 22, 1975, 7, Leavenworth Lamp Microfilm Collection, CARL. 126 Specifically, it lists: “Europe, Asia, Australia, the Middle East, South America, and the North American continent.” Unknown, “Allies Contribute to Cosmopolitan Atmosphere,” 7. 127 Unknown, “Service Honors King,” The Lamp, January 22, 1975, 7, Leavenworth Lamp Microfilm Collection, CARL. 128 Unknown, “Ally Warns Against Stereotyping,” The Lamp, February 27, 1974, 16, Leavenworth Lamp Microfilm Collection, CARL. 249 questions which injure his national pride and reflect your own lack of knowledge. Spain does have electricity.”129 Attacking an imaginary anti-Spaniard sentiment was a simpler and safer route to reiterate to the international program’s well-worn justification that “the greatest ambassador of good will the US can have abroad is a foreigner who has been treated with kindness in your country,” without broaching the complex questions of racial justice persisting in the community.130 As they interpreted what visiting officers’ families needed to know about the “American language,” or tea, schools, fashion, or the library, Leavenworth women volunteers simultaneously reaffirmed the essential social structures and domestic conventions that defined their community. Far from the extremes of simply imposing American domesticity or offering American-style liberation for oppressed women of the world, instead, they subtly re-worked their own roles in the community. With the tacit—and occasionally explicit—approval of the Army’s largest institution for educating and training military elites from around the world, Leavenworth women reasserted that their participation and leadership in local community organizations was what made the United States internationally admirable.131 Since the international military education and training program supposedly extolled all aspects of American life, their contributions became foreign policy. Army leaders routinely thanked them for their contributions and employed their service throughout the year, so women in the Officers Wives Club, Operation International, the Women’s Division of the Chamber of Commerce, and ordinary sponsor families considered themselves co-ambassadors with the Army. 129 Ibid. 130 Ibid. 131 John Reichley, “Our Foreign Friends,” Leavenworth Times, January 19, 1986, 4, Leavenworth Public Library. 250 In parallel to the mostly male Command and General Staff College classroom environment, Leavenworth’s women leaders and military spouses from all countries imagined solidarities with one another and in relation to the Army post and military life that defied national boundaries.132 They wove local and global expectations for women’s work in the service of the military and within the community that expanded to encompass visiting unaccompanied male officers who were often equally disoriented and local men who felt the rewards of internationalism just as keenly. Small differences in rank, region of origin, pay, or comfort with English may have reinforced national hierarchies among visiting officers and their families; even among American women these differentials made the relationships uneven. Even when they recognized these differences, American men and women regularly remarked that the opportunities for leadership and friendship the foreign officers provided rewards which often did more for the helpers than the helped.133 “And All of Us Such Nice People:” People-To-People and the International Officer Immediately after its founding in 1962, the founders of the Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People (GKCPTP) recognized that Fort Leavenworth’s allied officers provided an ideal opportunity to put into practice the kind of informal international cooperation their founding principles extolled. As a result of their well-organized annual activities and active sponsorship program with the regularly renewed groups of foreign military visitors each year, Kansas City volunteers claimed to embody the People-to-People ethos and boasted that they represented the model chapter of People-to-People International. They reiterated a version of internationalism and hospitality that integrated women’s leadership in the organization and recognized women’s contributions both as American sponsors and as important partners in 132 See Seigel, Uneven Encounters, xiii. 133 To paraphrase Hoffmann, All You Need Is Love, 9. 251 visiting officers’ families. This version of internationalism was explicitly Midwestern: it equated hospitality with rodeos, picnics, and car rides to single-family homes in rural settings, and connected agricultural knowledge with cosmopolitan wisdom. It also claimed to thrive independently from formal government sponsorship. Finally, the international headquarters of People-to-People International gladly rebroadcast the success of its largest chapter, and the Greater Kansas City Chapter regularly boasted of its influence over the International—to the benefit of both. People-to-People International represented a Cold War attempt to resist the nationalization of cultural diplomacy, but on the national level, succeeded mostly in keeping its own myth of the superiority of private initiative over formal diplomacy alive.134 Following the precedent of the close cooperation between private industry and the Office of War Information during World War II, the State Department encouraged and funded private businesses and nongovernmental organizations to cultivate “a positive image” of the United States abroad.135 After 1953, President Eisenhower’s new U.S. Information Agency (USIA) made private participation in American diplomacy a priority. Throughout the spring of 1955, USIA director Ted Streibert and Conger Reynolds, the chief of the Office of Private Cooperation, cobbled together committees representing essential aspects of supposedly private American society to revamp America’s image abroad. Committees included leaders in advertising, the hotel industry, universities, business organizations, cartoonists, musicians, labor leaders, scientists, entertainers, veterans, women’s groups, religious groups, radio and television producers, and jurists.136 By 134 Osgood, Total Cold War, 216; Thomson and Laves, Cultural Relations and U.S. Foreign Policy, 133. 135 Osgood, Total Cold War, 230. 136 Reynolds, “How People to People Began,” 4–5. 252 September, Reynolds had created 41 committees, chaired by the most influential personalities in their fields. As they met at the White House on September 11, 1956, President Eisenhower addressed them with an eloquence Conger Reynolds considered “comparable to Lincoln’s words at Gettysburg.”137 “If we are going to take advantage of the assumption that all people want peace,” Eisenhower told the gathering, “then the problem is for people to get together and to leap government . . . if necessary. . . to work out not one method but thousands of methods by which people can gradually learn a little bit more of each other.”138 Reynolds considered this the “inaugural” meeting of People-to-People, but acknowledged that People-to-People International did not actually take shape until 1961, after “private incorporation.”139 Ironically, Reynolds blamed this slow start on the government for siphoning funds away from this “private” initiative for peace and toward the Agency for International Development and the Peace Corps.140 But People-to-People International still celebrated the ten-year anniversary of Eisenhower’s 1956 address as their founding moment. They held their tenth annual National People-to-People Conference in Kansas City, Missouri.141 Throughout that decade, People-to-People’s leaders constantly reasserted their independence from “government.” Eisenhower himself regularly reiterated his original disdain for formal diplomacy. “There is very little that our government—or any government—can do to plant the seeds of international understanding in the hearts and minds of people around the 137 Ibid. 138 The ellipses here are exactly as they appear in this article Interestingly, in quoting Eisenhower’s 1956 speech in this 1966 People-to-People newsletter, Reynolds omits Eisenhower’s full text: “leap governments--if necessary to evade governments--to work out...” Ibid.; The full text of the speech is available in the Public Papers of the President, here: Eisenhower, “Remarks at the People-to-People Conference - September 11, 1956.” 139 Reynolds, “How People to People Began,” 4–5. 140 Ibid. 141 Unknown, “Tenth Anniversary Conference Here in October,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, September 1966, 4. 253 world,” he wrote in 1962.142 “It can only be done by people themselves.” 143 In 1966, Eisenhower recalled, “I acted to establish People-to-People as a formal movement designed to promote contact, communication, exchange, and friendly relationships between individual citizens of various countries.”144 Wil Rose, People-to-People International’s president in 1966, reflected that Eisenhower’s description of People-to-People as “a movement” specifically distinguished it from an “organization” or “agency.”145 People-to-People’s “one hope for success,” Rose recalled, was “the participation in some act of personal diplomacy by individuals everywhere.”146 People-to-People International’s own anti-statist rhetoric in the 1960s challenges the prevailing interpretation that national or strategic motives subjugated cultural diplomacy as the decade progressed. Eisenhower built independence from formal diplomacy into the fiber of the People-to-People mission by specifically discounting the usefulness of governments and empowering members to “leap governments—if necessary to evade governments” to build transnational relationships.147 Later Presidents—who People-to-People designated “Honorary Chairmen”—repeated similar rhetoric. John F. Kennedy celebrated the “varied” nature of People-to-People volunteers: “the housewife whose recipe contains the yeast of kindness, the soldier whose arms embrace homeless waifs, [and] the doctor who heals with humility.”148 Lyndon Johnson gushed, “People-to-People works outside government in a field vital to us all— the promotion of friendship among citizens of every land.”149 Wil Rose quoted Woodrow Wilson to express his independence: “What has made American great is not what we have done under 142 Dwight D. Eisenhower, “A Role for You In World Affairs,” People-to-People News, Winter -1963 1962, Unnumbered pages, Kansas City Public Library, Missouri Valley Special Collections. 143 Ibid. 144 Wil Rose, “The Next Ten Years,” People-to-People Newsletter, December 1966, 7, Publications 1960-1979 Binder, GKCPTP. 145 Ibid. 146 Ibid. 147 Eisenhower, “Remarks at the People-to-People Conference - September 11, 1956,” 750. 148 Catharine W. Menninger, “People to People,” People, People-to-People International, undated, c 1986, Box 1, Folder 15, CARL International Officer Collection. 149 Ibid. 254 compulsion of law, but what we have done of our own volition.”150 Richard Nixon reminded People-to-People’s board of directors in 1969 that “those little things you do” were no less significant than “the great decisions that have to be made in Congress or in the State Department or in the White House.”151 Kansas City volunteers believed all the Presidents since Eisenhower gave them tacit permission to extend their vision of American hospitality around the world without referring to formal diplomatic objectives or ideologies like Modernization Theory or the Nixon Doctrine. More important than Nixon’s address to the national board of People-to-People, though, was that the Greater Kansas City Chapter transcribed it at length in their monthly “Contact” newsletter. In this case, regional domestic constituencies benefitted from American foreign policy, but in a way that disregarded traditional diplomacy in favor of their own local vision of Americanism.152 As Chapter 1 showed, Eisenhower distrusted the political process for failing to understand the United States’ “mutual security” dilemmas or to secure appropriate levels of foreign aid. Given the Kennedy cabinet’s drubbing of Eisenhower’s “unimaginative” approach to foreign assistance, it is possible that Eisenhower resented his own marginalization from foreign affairs after 1961. Eisenhower also feared that excessive military spending gravely undermined the United States’ economic resiliency and image abroad.153 Whatever his motives for opposing early 1960s liberal developmentalism, People-to-People volunteers took Eisenhower’s words as approval for their populist approach to foreign relations. 150 Unknown, “People-to-People Faces Decision,” Kansas City Times, January 10, 1967, 6, Clippings File, Dates?, Kansas City Public Library, Missouri Valley Special Collections. 151 Helen Fisher, “Toast the Host,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, December 1969, Binder: Contact 1963-1970, GKCPTP. 152 See, for example, Joseph A. Fry, “Place Matters: Domestic Regionalism and the Formation of American Foreign Policy,” Diplomatic History 36, no. 3 (2012): 451–82. 153 Dwight D. Eisenhower, “Farewell Radio and Television Address to the American People - January 17, 1961,” Public Papers of the Presidents of the United States 1960–61 (1961 1960): 1038. 255 The Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People was formally incorporated in 1962, but claimed to have represented the first “workable” model for a local chapter since 1959. Daniel Millman, a Kansas City lawyer who was the Kansas City chapter president before serving on the national board of People-to-People International considered the chapter’s “strong self-reliance,” and “independent leadership” the archetype for chapters worldwide, and he called it the “Kansas City Plan.”154 The “Kansas City Plan” unified existing clubs, civic organizations and “other institutions interested in international relations and trade” before formally affiliating with People-to-People International.155 In reality, the two groups largely revolved around one another. To some extent, the presence of People-to-People International’s headquarters in Kansas City and the regular participation of Kansas City chapter members on the International board of directors made mutual self-reference predictable. In 1969, for example, Daniel Millan suggested the new International president Jim Doty would ensure the Greater KC Chapter its “rightful place in the sun.”156 In 1971, Jim Doty presided over the Kansas City Chapter’s annual membership dinner and swore in the local branch’s new officers and directors.157 Since the mid-1960s, the International also publicized the Kansas City Chapter’s accomplishments as its own, and vice- versa. Charles Stevenson, former vice president of Kansas City’s Hallmark Cards and civilian aide to the Secretary of the Army, wrote in the International’s magazine People in 1964 that Kansas City offered the ideal mix of international visitors and local hosts that made People-to- People so successful there.158 154 Dan Millman, “Inside PTP,” April 1970, Memory Book Binder, GKCPTP. 155 Ibid. 156 Millman, “Inside PTP,” October 1969, 6. 157 Anita Harper, “March Dinner Meeting,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, May 1971, 5, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 158 Charles S. Stevenson, “Hosting the MIlitary Visitor,” People, the People to People News, January 1964, 24, Kansas City Public Library, Missouri Valley Special Collections. 256 Fort Leavenworth provided the mortar for this relationship between the International and the local chapter, but Stevenson emphasized that rural Americana, not military obligations, attracted international visitors. The most enduring memory of American military education for international officers, he argued, was “the hospitality of civilians who lived near the bases where they attended school and invitations to homes for dinner or even a weekend stay.”159 Around Fort Leavenworth specifically, he recalled, the Army base sometimes provided transportation for foreign officers, but sponsor families often drove their guests to events. “This allows a splendid opportunity for getting acquainted before the social amenities begin and affords comment on the American countryside—interestingly enough, a subject which rates high on the frequency of discussion when these nationalists return home,” he wrote.160 In gatherings at sponsors’ homes, he observed, “the men are astonished at the big cars, the vastness of the utilities, the expansive highway systems.” Women, “while perhaps not as fluent in English as their mates,” might discuss “the tremendous range and moderate prices of consumer items and the packaging of American products seen on shopping trips. The women would compare prices on stockings, brooms, blankets, children’s wearing apparel and just about everything a young matron’s afternoon bridge club would discuss.”161 Ultimately, Stevenson speculated, the presence of “the People-to-People movement” around such military schools ensured that “whether any of these officers ever will be in the top echelons of their governments’ military or political hierarchy . . . all of them will have a warm spot in their heart for our country.”162 Here Stevenson merged nationalist boasting (large American highways, moderately priced brooms, etc.) with Cold War geopolitics, but he also danced between pro-rural regional bias and more purely-stated internationalism. He combined the organization’s larger narrative— 159 Ibid. 160 Ibid., 25. 161 Ibid. 162 Ibid., 24. 257 celebrating the civilian in communities around military bases—as a path for world peace that circumvented formal diplomacy in favor of direct, individual interaction. Specifically citing the Leavenworth community as the model synthesis of military-civilian-internationalism, Stevenson also located the heart of his internationalist vision in the Midwest, and claimed for People-to- People International the accomplishments of its proto-chapter in Kansas City. Immediately after its inception, the Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People integrated joint activities with Fort Leavenworth’s international officers into its raison d’etre. According to legend, Greater Kansas City People-to-People’s first president and Schlitz Brewery president Forrest McCluney received approval in 1962 from the staff college commandant, Lieutenant General Harry J. Lemly, Jr., for People-to-People to begin providing “Kansas City sponsors.”163 On February 28, 1963, at the first annual Installation Dinner, McCluney announced to the chapter’s one hundred charter members the chapter’s goals: expand membership to 1,000, “encourag[e] letter writing between the people of Kansas City and the people of the world,” host an annual Diplomatic Ball for Allied Officers at Fort Leavenworth and staff of the seventeen foreign consulates in Kansas City, and include “foreign officers attending the Command and General Staff school at Fort Leavenworth” in the chapter’s future activities.164 The chapter’s membership peaked at about 400 in 1968, but after that rarely topped 175.165 Instead, integration with the Allied Officers dominated the chapter’s activities. For two decades after 1963, the chapter’s monthly or bi-monthly “Contact” newsletters demonstrated the sponsorship program’s centrality to the chapter’s self-image. Typical issues 163 Unknown, “Greater Kansas City People to People Participation International Officer Program,” c 1992, Box 1, Folder 3, CARL International Officer Collection The “international Officer Program” Folder includes research material collected by J. Patrick Hughes for his book, “Fort Leavenworth: Gateweay to the West,” in 1992. 164 Consular info from Unknown, “PTP Program and Goals Emphasized at First Installation Dinner,” 1, 3; Unknown, “Resume of the Greater Kansas City People-to-People Program,” c 1965, Memory Book Binder, GKCPTP. 165 Unknown, “Chapters Growing,” People, the People-to-People Newsletter, April 1968, Publications 1960-1979 Binder, GKCPTP; Inga Barringer, “Re: Must Be Time for Another Research Question,” February 24, 2014. 258 were four to ten pages long, typed and mimeographed between the 1960s and 1970s, and printed from a personal computer during the 1980s.166 The chapter’s presidents were all men until 1983, but women and men served in near equal numbers as the chapter’s other officers (First and Second Vice President, Secretary, and Treasurer).167 In the 1960s and 1970s, however, women exclusively edited “Contact.”168 Each newsletter listed upcoming events—picnics and barbeques at Fort Leavenworth, guest lectures and dinners in Kansas City for volunteers and international guests were common. Many included updates from members on foreign travel. Quips or quotes from thank you cards or letters of appreciation often praised specific members or the People-to- People concept in general. Each issue during the academic year published the schedule for upcoming “Know Your World” presentations, where international officers at Fort Leavenworth described their nations’ “geography, history, customs, current and past events” in evening lectures for the Command and General Staff College class and any interested local civilians.169 Each spring, the newsletter included an application form for volunteers who wished to sponsor incoming visiting officers. The May 1974 “Contact,” for example, was devoted entirely to explaining the sponsorship program. It listed the fifty-one nations sending officers to CGSC that summer and its detachable application form permitted volunteers to list the country or region of 166 After the chapter left its rented office space in Kansas City in the mid-1990s, a former chapter vice-president preserved the old boxes and binders of “Contacts” in her basement. 167 “GKC PEOPLE TO PEOPLE - PAST PRESIDENTS,” accessed February 14, 2014, http://www.gkcptp.org/past_presidents. Data on other officers comes from analyzing past issues of Contact from the archive. 168 As complete a list as I can compile: 1966: Joy Parr (Associate editor); 1968-1969: Gail Ward; 1970-1971: Anita Harper; 1972: Edith Messal; 1976: Lois Dunn; 1977: Frances M. Connelly and May Lewton; 1978: May Lewton; 1982: Arlene Genutis; 1984: Cindy Sandker. 169 Some examples: Unknown, “‘Know Your World’ Programs Continue,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to- People Council Newsletter, April 1966, 7, Binder: Contact 1963-1970, GKCPTP; Unknown, “Know Your World,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, April 1970, 6, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP; Unknown, “Know Your World!!!!,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, August 1972, 4, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP; Unknown, “Know Your World,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, October 1986, 1, Binder: Contact 1980s, GKCPTP; Unknown, “Know Your World Programs,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, December 1977, 2, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP; Unknown, “Know Your World,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, February 1991, 1, Binder: Contact 1980s, GKCPTP. 259 origin they desired and whether they preferred unaccompanied officers or those with families.170 As ever, this newsletter’s anecdotes reminded readers of the joy of sponsoring: “‘We used to have sponsors but now we have friends,’ one officer and his wife told Mr. and Mrs. T.O. Lawton”; “Friendship is an even exchange”; “We enjoyed being with so many nice people and liked the delicious food and good drinks you served us.”171 This edition of “Contact” also included a follow-up request from a Belgian military officer for a Kansas City home for two of his nieces as they studied English in America.172 The editors of “Contact” prominently displayed letters of appreciation from foreign officers and their families because they reinforced so many aspects of People-to-People’s self- image. Often, the letters repeated the theme of independence from national diplomatic paradigms and nation-bound military allegiance, even when military families wrote them. The March/April 1966 edition, for example, reprinted a lengthy and gushing letter of thanks from Sudanese Colonel Tag El Sur Mustafa, a recent Command and Staff College graduate, to his sponsors, Helen and Robert Black. “When people discuss BAD or GOOD relationships between nations they tend to forget or drown out the voices and efforts of the individuals!” Mustafa wrote.173 “Good fruitful relationships between nations,” he continued, “start and grow through individual good efforts.” To the Blacks, he wrote, “the efforts and invitations which you make it a habit to extend to all types of foreign allied students to come to your house and spend days and weeks . . . that fact that you make them feel at home like they have known you for years and years; all this, is really NO LESS than the millions of food tonnages, or billions of dollar aids, which flow from 170 Unknown, “It’s Allied Officer Time Again,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, May 1974, 1–3, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 171 Ibid. 172 Ibid., 4. 173 Unknown, “Value of Our PTP Type of Personal Diplomacy Confirmed--Letter from Col. Mustafa of Sudan,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, April 1966, 6–7, Binder: Contact 1963-1970, GKCPTP. 260 the U.S.A. to wherever the need arises.”174 Finally, he asserted, “I intend to keep and promote this friendship for generations . . . to be able to contribute to the efforts which are being spent in my own country to lead it on the right road toward the Gate of Freedom.” 175 “Contact”’s editor stressed: “It is an eloquent and impressive expression of created good will,” emphasizing that sponsor families nurtured these relationships with great care, and implying that sponsor families, not foreign aid, would bring about any improvement in Sudan’s (or any other place’s) political or economic condition.176 Helen Black’s special relationship with Sudanese officers epitomized the dizzying heights of international prestige sponsorship offered. She and her husband were active throughout the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s, and she served as Treasurer and Vice President of the chapter for several years.177 Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, she organized the “international warehouse,” collecting donated small appliances, pots and pans, linens, utensils, and household goods to loan to help allied families “make a residence a home” for the year.178 She also sponsored dozens of officers from African states, including I.G.M.K. Kpeto, who later became Commandant of the Ghana Armed Force Staff College, and whose own wife exchanged letters regularly with Black for many years.179 In 1966, she sponsored Sudanese Lieutenant Colonel Jaafar Nimeiri, who returned to Sudan and seized power in a military coup in 1969.180 On a tour of the United States in 1977, Nimeiri arranged for Black to join him on his presidential 727 jet 174 Ibid., 7. 175 Ibid. 176 Ibid., 6 Emphasis in original. 177 Unknown, “Helen Black,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, October 1978, 2, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP; Unknown, “Officers and Directors Elected for 1966-1967,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, April 1966, 1, Binder: Contact 1963-1970, GKCPTP. 178 Unknown, “As Soon as Possible the International Warehouse at Ft. Leavenworth Needs Your Help,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, May 1978, 1, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP; Unknown, “Allied Warehouse Donations Needed,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, March 1979, 1, GKCPTP. 179 Unknown, “REAL People to People . . . . Hosts and Exchange Visits - JUST A SAMPLING OF PTP ACTIVITIVES,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, May 1979, 2–5, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 180 Timothy Niblock, “A New Political System in Sudan,” African Affairs 73, no. 293 (October 1974): 408. 261 for tours of San Francisco, New York, and Los Angeles. After a private tour of Disneyland, Black joined Nimeiri for dinner with Mayor Tom Bradley and actor Sydney Poitier at the home of African-American music mogul Clarence Avant.181 After the tour, Helen Black hosted Nimeiri’s wife, the First Lady of Sudan, at her home in Kansas City. In 1979, the Commandant of the Command and General Staff College presented a special copy of the 1966 CGSC yearbook to Black, and requested she deliver it to Nimeiri when she had the chance, “since he had never received his.”182 Black’s exploits with Command and General Staff College graduates- turned-heads-of-state were not atypical—“Contact” routinely boasted about the numbers of graduates who had become Generals or Heads of State—and they symbolized the ideal reward for sponsoring foreign officers. International relationships based on the illusion of parity between an American military meritocracy and military officership abroad sometimes translated into social mobility that short- circuited traditional definitions of class. Both “Contact” and the Leavenworth Lamp routinely reported the numbers of Command and Staff College Graduates who become heads of state, chiefs of staff, general officers, or influential business leaders.183 By 1974, for example, of the 3,500 international Command and General Staff College graduates from 77 different countries, 14 had become heads of state or prime ministers, 118 became “ministers of state or ambassadors,” 981 had become general officers and 84 became Chiefs of Staff for their services.184 “Contact” routinely described foreign officers’ return visits to the United States— 181 Unknown, “Helen Black,” 2. 182 Unknown, “REAL People to People . . . . Hosts and Exchange Visits - JUST A SAMPLING OF PTP ACTIVITIVES,” 2–5. 183 Among others, see: Unknown, “First Ally Attended in ’94,” 8B; Unknown, “Since 1973: 86 Allies Honored in Hall of Fame,” The Lamp, August 8, 1974, 8, Leavenworth Lamp Microfilm Collection, CARL; Unknown, “The Annual Loose Park Dilemma...Allied Officers Arriving,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, May 1974, 2, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP; Unknown, “As Sure as the Weather and Taxes--but Far More Pleasant, It’s Allied Officer Time Again at Fort Leavenworth,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to- People Council Newsletter, May 1973, 1, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 184 Similar tallies appeared year after year in GKCPTP sources and “The Leavenworth Lamp” papers. Unknown, “The Annual Loose Park Dilemma...Allied Officers Arriving,” 2. 262 often as high-ranking officials and always culminating with a visit to their Staff College sponsor—or reciprocal visits abroad where sponsors became guests of honor. Such visits offered almost fairy-tale social mobility for sponsor families. In 1977, for example, Jean and Chuck Nelson visited former sponsorees in Denmark, Greece, and Austria. “They entertained us royally,” the Nelsons told “Contact,” including “special places” off limits to ordinary tourists.185 In 1981, Helen Black spent two months as the guest of Indonesian General Norman Sasono, the military governor of Jakarta.186 In 1991, Barton Cohen and his wife Mary honeymooned in Southeast Asia, visiting Thailand, Myanmar, and Singapore as guests of former sponsorees who were now generals and wealthy executives. Their host in Singapore graduated from Fort Leavenworth as “the country’s youngest Lt. Col.,” he had since retired from the Army, he had also retired as “managing editor of ten English language magazines,” and enchanted the Cohens: “Who knows his limits—he is still in his mid thirties.”187 “As you can tell,” Barton told “Contact,” “involvement with [the] International Officers program gave us unique opportunities for insight into these countries which otherwise could never have been achieved.”188 Visiting their former guests also allowed Helen Black, Ed and Dolly Gordon, and Barton and Mary Cohen to leap classes while abroad. Parity in international regard for military officers was still an illusion that required cultivating. Although John Reichley boasted in the Leavenworth Times that more Americans “expressed a great deal of confidence” in the United States Armed Forces than in the President, Supreme Court, television news, or “organized religion,” military officers from few of the states 185 Unknown, “From Jean and Chuck Nelson,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, January 1977, 1, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 186 Unknown, “Travel,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, October 1981, 1, Binder: Contact 1980s, GKCPTP. 187 Barton P. Cohen, “International Officers Hosting Experience,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, February 1991, 2, Binder: Contact 1980s, GKCPTP. 188 Ibid. 263 that sent officers to Fort Leavenworth received as much compensation or respect from their home states.189 As Chapter 5 will explore in more detail, Ghanaian soldiers in the 1970 struggled to supplement their income by farming, taking civilian jobs off post, or, as both a cause and symptom of pervasive military rule in Ghana, maneuvering for secondary postings in government ministries and industrial boards.190 Foreign officers attending Fort Leavenworth often needed assistance furnishing their homes or apartments in Kansas. As early as 1965, women from Leavenworth operated a warehouse to loan household items, kitchen equipment, and bedding to international families.191 Helen Black’s annual pleas to Kansas City People-to- People members for small appliances, linens, kitchen utensils, cookware, and furniture for the Allied Warehouse through the 1970s betray how many international officers needed assistance providing for their families.192 As Chapter 5 will show, however, international travel itself offered some military officers both tangible financial incentives that mimicked class advancement as well as an international reference for the socio-cultural strata senior military officers could occupy. Ironically, but not surprisingly, the pinnacle of advancement that so attracted American families to their former sponsorees abroad often resulted from non-democratic paths to power that contradicted the Staff College’s formal opposition to military rule. The “Allied Officers’ Hall of Fame” which opened at Fort Leavenworth in August 1973 to honor Command and 189 John Reichley, “That’s What People Think,” Leavenworth Times, June 26, 1986, 4, Leavenworth Public Library; John Reichley, “The Polls Toll,” Leavenworth Times, March 15, 1987, 4, Leavenworth Public Library. 190 Henry K. Anyidoho recounts the pervasive atmosphere of military-industry-government collusion in Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step, 58–60. 191 “If you can contribute, please contact Mrs. Flanagan,” the “Times” reported. Dottie Burks, “From the Fort: International Group,” The Leavenworth Times, July 15, 1965, 11A, Leavenworth Public Library. 192 Unknown, “As Soon as Possible the International Warehouse at Ft. Leavenworth Needs Your Help”; Unknown, “Allied Warehouse Donations Needed”; Unknown, “Allied Warehouse Needs Transfusion,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, May 1979, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP; Unknown, “Allied Warehouse in Need,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, November 1985, Binder: Contact 1980s, GKCPTP; John Reichley, “Egg, Stove, What?,” Leavenworth Times, September 29, 1985, 4, Leavenworth Public Library. 264 General Staff College graduates who had risen to high positions in their states specifically barred alumni who seized power via coups d’état.193 But Helen Black’s adventures with Sudanese President Jaafar Nimeiri and Dolly and Ed Gordon’s visit to Pakistani President Muhammad Zia- Ul-Haq brought no official condemnation.194 Instead, these visits epitomized possibilities for social mobility that first required American families to project the respectability of military officership in American culture onto foreign officers. Many of those officers returned home to more volatile political-military hierarchies, but regardless of their means of advancement, the original American faith in the goodness of the exchange permitted American visitors to share in their new social status without scruples. In these cases, the legitimate international relationship formed on the illusion of parity permitted American sponsor families visiting former sponsorees to imagine themselves part of ruling classes of military elites far out of proportion to their statuses in the U.S. The thin cultural barrier reflected both sides’ misperception of the other’s class status, permitting individuals to scramble class hierarchies when they crossed borders. Helen Black’s regular updates in “Contact” in the 1970s also reveal genuine hospitality that spanned continents and generations. She hosted first ladies and wives of visiting Generals at her home, but also her sponsor families’ extended family members, friends, business partners, and fellow nationals. In 1977 Black served Thanksgiving dinner at her home to Hung, the nephew of a former sponsoree from Vietnam, to Waty, the son of Indonesian General Sasono who was studying in Atchison, Kansas, and Bashier, a friend of Colonel Fouad of Sudan who was a student at Kansas State University in Manhattan, Kansas. “My years of associations with 193 Unknown, “Since 1973: 86 Allies Honored in Hall of Fame,” 8; Unknown, “Allied Officer Hall Of Fame,” Unknown, c 1979, Box 1, Folder 2, CARL International Officer Collection; On barring coup leaders, see: Bruce Bigelow, “Army College Teaches About War, Friendship; Foreign Officers Are the Students,” The Kansas City Times, January 14, 1984, Box 1, Folder 17 “Journal Articles-misc. 1953-1998,” CARL International Officer Collection This is a continuation page, the front page of the article is missing from the International Officers Collection. ; Reichley, International Officers: A Century of Participation at the United States Army Command and General Staff College, 37. 194 Unknown, “Helen Black,” 2; Reichley, International Officers: A Century of Participation at the United States Army Command and General Staff College, 25. 265 Officers of many countries have brought me great rewards,” she reflected. “Namely young people who can sit at my table with my own precious family and we can all be in love and gratitude in our way be grateful to God for each other and for those back home who are still in our hearts.”195 When her friends Abdel Mustafa, his wife, and their new baby returned to Sudan in 1976 after three years at Kansas State University, Black contemplated, “It is always difficult to see part of your family move so far away to their beloved homeland.”196 She welcomed thirteen Sudanese friends for Christmas dinner in 1979—three officers plus their wives and extended families.197 A month later, she hosted the chief engineer and chief mechanic from Sudan Airways and their wives for sightseeing, touring a local tractor manufacturer, and shopping, followed by tea and dinner at her home.198 In April 1979, Major Paul of Sudan asked Black to pin his new rank of Lieutenant Colonel onto his uniform, and gave Helen “the greatest honor she’s had since she began sponsoring Allied Officers.”199 Wives of visiting officers provided especially powerful reinforcement for the People-to- People ethos. In 1964, the wives of three Thai colonels who remained in Thailand while their husbands attended CGSC sent glowing thank you letters to Ray and Rea Petty, who had sponsored three Thai officers in 1963.200 The Pettys invited their Thai officers for Sunday dinners, a visit to Rea’s sister’s farm, a baseball game, a show at the Starlight Theater, and a Kansas City Chiefs football game. “I don’t think we ever got the ‘safety’ explained to the men,” 195 Frances Connelly, “Helen Black . . .,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, January 1977, 3, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 196 Lois Dunn, “Other Contacts,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, September 1976, 2, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 197 Unknown, “Hosting - Instant and Otherwise,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, February 1979, 2, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 198 Ibid. 199 Unknown, “REAL People to People . . . . Hosts and Exchange Visits - JUST A SAMPLING OF PTP ACTIVITIVES,” 5. 200 Unknown, “Kansas City Couple Take People-To-People Membership Seriously,” December 1964, Memory Book Binder, GKCPTP The GKCPTP archive “Memory Book” features a typed version of this article, which appears in print in the August 1965 “People” newsletter. . 266 Rea remembered. “Ravi cheered for the Chargers—no wonder the Chiefs lost.” 201 By then, “the Thai officers were acknowledged members of the Petty family, and spent a week-end with them in St. Joseph, Missouri at a reunion of Mrs. Petty’s family.”202 The colonels’ wives wrote to thank the Pettys, and the article carefully reproduced their exact wording. “I have received from Col. Chalerm written about you—you are so kind to him I cannot possibly express my deep appreciation of your beautiful hospitality to my husband,” one said.203 “I have two children, Ruj, our son is 13 years now, he hope to continue to study in America . . . Panit, daughter, is 12 years she is very tall than me . . . If her dream come true she want to continue her study in United States too.” Colonel Ravi’s wife first apologized for her troubles with English, but since “Colonel Ravi he always talking about your family even I don’t know you very well but I feel like we have been friends long time ago.” “My husband is lucky to stay with a lovely family,” Colonel Ravi’s wife wrote—especially one so lucky to have daughters, since “In our custom, the daughter is better than son because even when they grown up they always take their family to get in touch all the time.” Naturally, both wives invited the Petty’s to visit Thailand, although with some embarrassment: “It’s not so civilize like your country but it’s nice to know Thai people that known all over the world ‘land of smile.’”204 This article revealed so many of the ways sponsoring international officers manifested the entangled relationships and identities Military Internationalism evoked in Kansas City. A draft version of the article remained in the Greater Kanas City People-to-People archive; it is likely a Kansas City member drafted the article in 1964 for publication in People-to-People International’s publication, People. The article demonstrated how concepts of modernity survived and manifested themselves through military families at the local level. Most of all, it 201 Ibid. 202 Ibid. 203 Ibid. 204 Ibid. 267 reiterated the way the steady supply of international elites permitted People-to-People volunteers at the local level and at the organization’s headquarters to realize and publicize their goals. The article’s unknown author reaffirmed the genuine depth of affection between the Pettys and their international guests, but also hinted that the exchange was unequal. Quoting the Thai women’s simple English verbatim, including the claim that Thailand “not so civilize like your country,” the author revealed that men and women from both groups acknowledged differentials in national modernity. Other articles from the early 1960s articulated national differences as differentials of modernity in ways that echo theorists’ proposition that modernity was essentially a state of mind. After the 1966 rodeo, for example, Joy Parr exclaimed with delight that the evening had left her new international friend unable to explain “what’s happened in my mind!”205 That theme almost completely disappeared by the 1970s, however. It was not the Petty article’s main purpose, either; People-to-People International’s editors excised that sentence from the article in People with a worldwide readership. Usually, articles boasted that the international officers were “of the highest type, selected carefully by their own countries, screened by ours,” they were the “creme de la creme of each country’s intellect, individuality and prowess,” and they represented “their countries’ apex in charm, adaptability and personality.”206 Instead, when both Kansas City and International publications emphasized that Midwesterners were unexpectedly cosmopolitan—claiming, for example, “A visitor might not anticipate that this is a cosmopolitan center”—they were actually confronting a keenly felt differential in modernity between rural and urban Americans.207 People’s editors deleted the line “not so civilize like your country” from the Pettys story to soften the emphasis on national 205 Unknown, “July 2nd Barbecue -- Rodeo Acclaimed Best Ever,” 1–2. 206 Unknown, “5th Annual Chuck Wagon-Rodeo July 8, 1967,” 1; Unknown, “July 2nd Barbecue -- Rodeo Acclaimed Best Ever,” 1–2; Unknown, “Second Annual Phase II Foreign Officer Hosting Another Success,” 3. 207 Unknown, “Wheat Belt Internationalism,” 23. 268 difference to magnify the article’s celebration of Midwestern hospitality, captured in the article’s first line: “It all began with the Rodeo.” For members of the local chapter, People articles exhibited how Kansas City members had perfected the ethos and organization of international contact to become the model local chapter. For People-to-People International, the Petty article exemplified the global reach of individual Midwestern hospitality. Elsewhere they celebrated engineering students from India, for example, who chose Kansas State University because “the dark skinned a student, the student in the funny robe, seems to be accepted a little quicker in Kansas.”208 A new generation of internationalists—“the First International Generation”, they called it—formed People-to-People chapters on campuses in Kansas and Oklahoma, “deep in the heart of America.”209 National differences were a given in People-to-People’s publications, but their particular vision of internationalism routinely required reasserting “middle American” values. Finally, the Petty article connected the women of both countries in a special way—even when the Thai women never actually travelled. Emphasizing the family-to-family nature of the relationship, as if Thai women and American women understood that the essence of national military cooperation was a nurturing domestic environment best secured by women, reinforced the way People-to-People claimed to “leap governments” to join peoples. Kansas City women with little formal access to the infrastructure of international relations seized sponsoring international military officers as an opportunity to participate as equals—even as leaders—in a global internationalist movement. Regardless of who were the more active sponsors in Kansas City, “Contact” featured more updates from women sponsors 208 Ibid. 209 Maurice F. O’Reilly, “The First International Generation,” People, the People to People News, Summer 1963, Kansas City Public Library, Missouri Valley Special Collections; W. Clark Wescoe, “After 2 Years; People-to- People at the University of Kansas,” People-to-People News, Winter -1963 1962, Kansas City Public Library, Missouri Valley Special Collections. 269 than men, and women reflected on their mission in People-to-People without embarrassment. For example, as “associate editor” in 1966, Joy Parr reprinted United Nations Secretary-General U Thant’s words for the local chapter: “Peace and order in the world are not the exclusive business of statesmen, diplomats, and international officials,” Parr quoted.210 “They are the urgent personal business of all men and women who are capable of wishing for a better world for their children and their fellow man.”211 Parr had read Thant’s words in the New York Times, she said, and she reprinted them to express solidarity with a global internationalist vision as well as a local one. Later that summer, as she described the annual rodeo, Parr contemplated the near-spiritual value of international contact. “When you can truly dissolve the sometimes stilted awkwardness or forced hilarity of an arranged meeting,” she wrote, “There comes that lovely sense of fulfillment, – serenity, which is needed and sought by ALL MANKIND.”212 Women produced “Contact,” and it celebrated their participation in the mission. Colonel Mustafa of Sudan may have sent his eloquent “Thank You” letter to Helen Black and her husband in 1966, but “Contact” made clear that he meant it for Helen.213 In 1969, Editor Gail Ward boasted, “YOU have become active, responsive, participating members in an organization that is doing something about the world situation! YOU have become interested in helping others! YOU have been bitten by the patriotism bug, and you have helped yourself in the process!”214 Phonda Goldsmith reflected in 1976 that she was “particularly fortunate to live in the proximity of the Command and Staff College and thus be able to sponsor an Allied Officer and his family.”215 She felt sorry for People-to-People members in other chapters who lacked this 210 Unknown, “Thanks, Mr. U Thant!,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, June 1966, 5, Binder: Contact 1963-1970, GKCPTP. 211 Ibid. 212 Unknown, “Second Annual Phase II Foreign Officer Hosting Another Success,” 3. 213 Unknown, “Value of Our PTP Type of Personal Diplomacy Confirmed--Letter from Col. Mustafa of Sudan,” 6. 214 Gail Ward, “The In Crowd,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, October 1969, 2, Binder: Contact 1963-1970, GKCPTP Emphasis in original. 215 Lois Dunn, “PHONDA GOLDSMITH . . .,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, January 1976, 2, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 270 opportunity. “I can think of nothing which can bring greater pleasure,” she said. “The rewards are beyond description.”216 Fifi Osman, wife of Egyptian Colonel Hazem Osman, reinforced this sentiment three years later with an ebullient letter of thanks, which Goldsmith shared with “Contact”: “I will never, ever forget this year in the states as long as I live. . . Phonda, this past year was the best year of my life – it really was!”217 The blossoming friendship between four families that editor Lois Dunn described in 1976 needed no American men. Billie Hartwell and Bonnie Harsh decided, “after two years of duo sponsorship . . . we are each sponsoring a family this year.”218 (Individuals in Kansas City commonly shared sponsorship duties between two friends.) This year, Bonnie and her nine year- old son met Tunisian Major Aziz Skik and his “very attractive, dark-eyed family—Aziz, Najet and their children Leyla, Nabil and Thoraya” at the park. Both families then joined Billie and her Pakistani family for a walk through the park—“the Tunisian children were particularly excited about seeing a squirrel”—a drive through Kansas City’s upscale Plaza and Mission Hills, and “an old-fashioned picnic including homemade ice cream and cake.”219 The families discussed “the Democratic Convention, Republican Convention, the national election, the landing on Mars, and, of course, our Bicentennial year,” while “the children immediately began riding bicycles, skateboards, playing basketball, badminton, etc., and made themselves completely at home.”220 These families’ relationship flourished naturally and predictably, even without American men present. 216 Ibid. 217 Unknown, “Nice Words About Allied Officer Program,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, December 1980, 2, Binder: Contact 1980s, GKCPTP. 218 Lois Dunn, “The Allied Officer Get-Together,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, September 1976, 1, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 219 Ibid., 3. 220 Ibid. 271 Kansas City’s People-to-People women led events for international military officers beyond “family” gatherings, as well. On an October afternoon in 1979, four Kansas City women directed two busloads of male Argentine military officers (sixty-eight in all) for lunch, shopping, and sightseeing around the city.221 Their American husbands joined the group later that night for dinner. These articles, and countless others like them, did not dwell on the absence of men, but made it clear, in Bonnie Harsh’s words, that women had no less significant a role creating “close ties” and “warm hearts” with international military officers and their families. In 1968, women from Kansas City’s People-to-People chapter initiated an annual Peace Festival that displays from another angle how close Fort Leavenworth’s international military officers were to People-to-People’s fundamental rhetoric about building world peace through individual cooperation. For a week in September, People-to-People volunteer Ann Brown and her committee staffed displays in a Kansas City shopping center featuring People-to-People publicity, showing “films relating to our personal work toward peace,” and selling small sheaves of wheat, “our symbol of peace.”222 They sold 4x6 inch flags of all nations “at a nominal cost . . . because of the trend toward international themes in civic, professional, school, and church meetings, they are in great demand.”223 Reflecting the chapter’s ongoing veneration for Dwight Eisenhower’s internationalist vision, in 1969 Ann Brown included a special display paying tribute to Eisenhower’s memory, whose birthday coincided with the festival. In 1970, Dotty Wetherill led the Peace Festival committee, which featured “KU [University of Kansas] student 221 Unknown, “Reunions,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, October 1979, 1–2, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 222 Gail Ward, “Peace Festival A Fantastic Success,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, October 1968, 6, Binder: Contact 1963-1970, GKCPTP; Anne Brown, “Peace Festival Coming Soon,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, August 1969, 2–3, GKCPTP. 223 Gail Ward, “Peace Festival Ready ’N Raring to Go!,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, October 1969, 2–3, Binder: Contact 1963-1970, GKCPTP. 272 nurses from abroad, student ambassadors, and PTP members present to answer questions about our activities.”224 The Peace Festival did not last into the 1970s, but still demonstrated how Kansas City women seized the opportunities People-to-People offered to initiate community projects with global intent. For them, sponsorship was not a mere social opportunity that reinforced domestic spheres. People-to-People volunteers believed they built real alliances, they produced genuine cooperation between individuals which yielded global results in the form of cross-cultural understanding, economic exchanges, intellectual collaboration, and, ultimately, peace. When Helen Black accompanied Sudanese President Nimeiri across the United States, she was more than just a model of American domestic consumption. She became a soldier for her global vision of international cooperation, though she expressed what that vision would look like through her Thanksgiving table. Ann Brown organized the first Peace Festival in 1968 to draw Kansas City and the world closer together. Helen Black, Ann Brown, Billie Hartwell, and Bonnie Harsh did not accept that they were reinforcing American empire via domesticity cloaked in modernity. On the other hand, the ongoing presence of a large supply of international visitors, made possible by a vast network of American military expansion worldwide, maintained a fresh and diverse international clientele for their efforts. Kansas City chapter President Charles Nelson wove nearly all the aspects of the chapter’s identity together as he praised Dotty Wetherill and the Peace Festival in November 1970’s “Contact.” “To achieve peace,” he reflected, “we have tried military power, foreign aid, lend lease, diplomacy, and so on, without the long-term success we had hoped to achieve. Now, without detracting from these efforts, let us try building peace through friendship. Keep in touch with all your guests and especially be certain our allied officers and others are not left alone 224 Unknown, “A Symbolic Gesture of Hope For Peace,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, November 1970, 3, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 273 during our holidays.” 225 He concluded, “For peace’ sake, give of your time until it feels good!"226 Nelson discounted both the results and the potential for formal diplomacy, he recognized the initiative the women of People-to-People felt empowered to take organizing a major project to articulate the goal of peace, and he saw no contradiction behind hosting military officers and fostering peace. The privileged place of Midwestern values was the only aspect of the Kansas City People-to-People version of Military Internationalism Nelson neglected to mention there. Given the ink spilled over the annual rodeo, it was hardly necessary. From rural food, relaxed wardrobe, and rustic furniture to its interactive recreation of the frontier myth, no spectacle captured People-to-People’s Midwestern exceptionalism like the rodeo. The great union of Ray and Rea Petty and three Thai families “all began with the Rodeo.” The 1963 rodeo was the first major event the Greater Kansas City People-to-People Chapter held its incorporation in 1962, and they publicized it constantly after that.227 Held at Kansas City’s Benjamin Stables in July, shortly after the newest fifty Allied officers arrived at Fort Leavenworth, the first rodeo and “western-style barbeque,” gave the group “a rare experience with American hospitality.”228 The rodeo quickly became the chapter’s signature event. In 1964, the Kansas City Rodeo dedicated its first rodeo performance of the year to the Allied Officers and the Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People. At the opening ceremony, as the master of ceremonies introduced each of the forty-two nations represented, a rider “raced into the arena, with that country’s flag streaming stiffly in the breeze.”229 Sponsor families and international families sat on bales of hay and shared a “chuck wagon” dinner of potato salad, Nelson, “President’s Corner,” November 1970, 4. 226 Ibid. 227 Unknown, “Resume of the Greater Kansas City People-to-People Program.” 228 Ibid. 229 Unknown, “American Rodeo Goes International,” People, the People to People News, October 1964, 21, Kansas City Public Library, Missouri Valley Special Collections. 274 Jell-O, fried chicken and roast beef, and “an unlimited supply of beer and Coca Cola.”230 Children rode on ponies and stagecoaches, while “Kansas City’s all-Indian ‘Council of Fire’ staged authentic Indian dances, complete with drums, Indian songs, and full regalia.”231 “Real life Cowboys” demonstrated firsthand to foreign guests “what they had read about or seen in movies—roping and wrangling techniques.”232 Through the sixties and seventies, over one hundred officers joined each CGSC class, and the event grew in size and importance for both the Kansas City volunteers and the officers’ families. Between 1963 and 1994, the rodeos provided foreign officers and their families “their first experience with Western music, corn-on-the-cob and American Indians,” and by all accounts, people loved them. To Joy Parr, the rodeo “was a little like Xmas morning, full of anticipation and curiosity, appreciation and, yes, a little trepidation,” but by 1966, “the organization was so perfected . . . that things really hummed.”233 The warmth of conversation after the rodeo, she recalled, was “especially rich.”234 In 1971, the Command and General Staff College Commandant personally thanked chapter president Chuck Nelson after the rodeo. “The events made a tremendous impression on the Allied officers and their families,” he wrote, “and has been the topic of conversation ever since.”235 In other years, the foreign visitors “thoroughly enjoyed an opportunity to see feather-clad, drum-beating American Indians face to face,” and “the friendly multi-lingual conversations soon centered around the Indian dances.”236 The 230 Anita Harper, “Past Events,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, July 1971, 1, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 231 Unknown, “American Rodeo Goes International,” 20. 232 Sue Kimball, “From the Fort: Allies Learn Cowhands’ Technique,” The Leavenworth Times, June 30, 1964, 6, Leavenworth Public Library. 233 Unknown, “July 2nd Barbecue -- Rodeo Acclaimed Best Ever,” 1–2. 234 Unknown, “Second Annual Phase II Foreign Officer Hosting Another Success,” 3. 235 Chuck Nelson, “President’s Corner,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, July 1971, 2, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 236 Harper, “Past Events,” 1. 275 presence of a mutually foreign “other” may have lightened the tension and anticipation of the moment for Americans and visiting families alike. People-to-People publicized every aspect of the event.237 In their annual appeals for more members, Kansas City’s “Contact” editors and People-to-People presidents routinely touted the rodeo as the most enjoyable “perk” of membership.238 They even warned members that the duties of sponsorship did not end after the rodeo, as if they suspected members for volunteering to sponsor for that purpose alone.239 The rodeos also inspired articles for the International’s People publication that reiterated both the Kansas City chapter’s particular excellence at conducting well organized, exciting, and far-reaching international events and the inherent superiority of “mid-western” American hospitality. Rodeos reiterated People-to-People International’s argument that Midwestern values trumped formal diplomacy. On the surface, the nature of international military education and training made military uniforms and national flags seem indispensable. People-to-People volunteers around Fort Leavenworth carefully erased those national and hierarchical distinctions in the way they reported on social events. “Except for a few Americans decked out in authentic Western cowboy garb,” the International’s People magazine reported in 1964, “host and guest alike were casual sports attire—blending together merely as people, with little national distinction.”240 Instead, the rustic West leveled national categories. “Baled-hay diplomacy was 237 “Allied Officers Guests at Rodeo,” Kansas City Times, July 1, 1968, Clippings File, Kansas City Public Library, Missouri Valley Special Collections; See also: Unknown, “Annual Barbecue Picnic Dinner - Rodeo”; Unknown, “July 2nd Barbecue -- Rodeo Acclaimed Best Ever”; Unknown, “5th Annual Chuck Wagon-Rodeo July 8, 1967”; Gail Ward, “Chalk-Up a Successful BBQ-Rodeo,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, August 1969, Binder: Contact 1963-1970, GKCPTP; Unkown, “Picnic Planned Today for Allied Officers,” Leavenworth Times, July 22, 1984, Leavenworth Public Library; Reichley, International Officers: A Century of Participation at the United States Army Command and General Staff College, 27; Unknown, “No Rodeo 1995,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, May 1995, Binder: Contact 1990s, GKCPTP. 238 Unknown, “It’s Allied Officer Time Again,” 1–3. 239 Bob Combs, “Allied Officers Picnic,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, September 1970, 2–3, Binder: Contact 1970s, GKCPTP. 240 Unknown, “American Rodeo Goes International,” 20. 276 the order of the day,” People claimed.241 “Seated on the bales of hay, Greeks and Indonesians, Thais and Germans munched barbecued chicken and corn on the cob, drank coffee drawn from a ten gallon can, and compared notes with American hosts about the foods and customs of their native lands.”242 When they returned to their countries, allied military men talked more about “the hospitality of civilians who lived near the bases” than their military training.243 Other letters of appreciation in People-to-People’s publications stressed the connection between Midwestern geography and international hospitality. “Contact” reprinted Nepalese Major Rajendra Thapa’s poetic tribute to Eileen Boschert, his sponsor in 1983: “The air you breathe will be freshened by the Rockies/As will be mine by the Himalayas./The blood in your vessels will be circulated by the Mississippi and Missouri/So will be mine by the Ganges and Baghmati.”244 People-to-People International’s People newsletter called this “Wheat Belt Internationalism,” and reported that Indian students who could have attended New York University chose Kansas State University because “it’s too hectic there for a guy from another country. Here, the folks have a little more time for you.”245 For a Nigerian veterinary student, Kansas offered the best opportunity “to see Americans at their best – relaxed, casual, and not putting on the dog.”246 The superiority of “Baled-hay diplomacy” and Western garb over foreign policy and military uniforms fit into People-to-People’s larger anti-statist narrative. People boasted in 1966: “It wasn’t the skyscrapers that impressed these foreign visitors most about the United States. Nor the glitter of its cities.”247 It was the rural places; the stockyards in Kansas City and the Great 241 Ibid. 242 Ibid. 243 Stevenson, “Hosting the MIlitary Visitor,” 23. 244 Thapa Rajendra, “To My Sponsors and the Fort Leavenworth Community,” Contact, Greater Kansas City People-to-People Council Newsletter, September 1983, 2, Binder: Contact 1980s, GKCPTP. 245 Unknown, “Wheat Belt Internationalism,” 23. 246 Ibid., 24 This author has no idea what “putting on the dog” means, but admits the idiom is colorful. 247 Unknown, “A Discovery In America: The U.S. Is Not Too Big for Friendly Hospitality,” People-to-People Newsletter, August 1966, 3, Publications 1960-1979 Binder, GKCPTP. 277 Bend in Kansas. The American Mid-West—“almost as far geographically as one can get from a foreign border” and “once the nation’s bedrock of isolationism”—had become home to “the first international generation” of American youth, wrote Maurice “Moe” O’Reilly, the People-to- People spokesman and former director of public relations for Goodyear.248 Privileging “baled-hay diplomacy” over formal foreign policy reflected People-to-People International’s version of internationalism that replaced official diplomatic relationships with non-governmental and rural contacts. “Wheat Belt Internationalism” thrived on volunteers, not State Department employees, and women volunteered.249 Women participated enthusiastically in the opportunities this type of internationalism opened for leading community organizations and building rewarding personal relationships with other Americans and interesting visitors from abroad. Fort Leavenworth’s robust supply of international officers contributed to that narrative by constantly refreshing the pool of international elites and sanctioning their contact with Midwestern host families. After purging the national trappings of military service and replacing them with casual Midwestern garb, a different kind of internationalism emerged that both depended on the U.S. government’s official interaction with foreign militaries while claiming superiority over formal relationships of state power. Conclusion Anti-statist rhetoric embedded in People-to-People’s origins mirrored the United States’ international military education and training program’s celebration of contact with “ordinary” Americans and empowered local women outside traditional channels of international diplomacy. 248 O’Reilly, “The First International Generation,” 7–9. 249 Unknown, “Wheat Belt Internationalism”; Unknown, “The Volunteers,” People, the People to People News, August 1964, Kansas City Public Library, Missouri Valley Special Collections. 278 As a result, women volunteers organized activities for international officers and their families, established the necessary relationships with Fort Leavenworth’s staff to promote their activities, and interpreted the events’ meanings for the rest of the community. By the early 1960s, through the sponsorship program for Allied Officers, local women nurtured a version of internationalism based on a “Midwestern” rendering of American hospitality and transnational cooperation that emphasized family bonds over national boundaries. Through annual picnics and rodeos, food fairs and fashion shows, and classroom lessons for wives and children in the “American Language,” women and men around Fort Leavenworth reinforced their own perception of what it meant to be a Midwestern American. Hospitality, amiability, and openness to international visitors were all aspects of that internationalism, but it also depended on the United States’ robust international military education and training program to provide the people necessary to practice that vision. Ironically, then, women and men in the community around Fort Leavenworth claimed independence from formal American diplomacy and Cold War geopolitics in ways that would have shocked the academics and policymakers who originally justified for America’s international military education and training empire. Chapter 3 demonstrated that policymakers refused or failed to measure the power of the IMET program, but accepted that it formed “people to people” relationships “of a higher order” as part of their support for it. The women and men around Fort Leavenworth, Kansas would have agreed, with a caveat. Their relationships were superior in spite of, not because of, their military origins. Sponsors and volunteers celebrated their initiatives, their volunteerism, and even in the “city life” that sponsors from Kansas City supposedly upheld, their Midwestern values, their independence from nation-bound diplomacy, and women’s special authority to unite families from around the world. 279 Chapter 5: Writing for Peace: International Men and Women of the Ghana Armed Forces Introduction: Makana’s Fanara Diary In February 1975, as his six-month peacekeeping deployment came to an end and he and his battalion of 500 Ghanaian soldiers prepared to leave Egypt, Lieutenant Makana Blay published his observations and impressions in the Ghana Armed Forces News.1 His full-page article described the Ghanaians’ mission, the terrain, sandstorms, Cairo and its charms, and positive and negative interactions with Egyptian Arabs. Beneath a photo of four Ghanaian soldiers and a dozen or so children, his caption read: “When it's time for Saakem" the soldiers hardly dine without their newly acquired friends (Egyptian Children) coming around for their share. And this is well within the spirit of African Unity: Be Thy Brothers Keeper.”2 Three “lessons” from the experience struck him: “Our men can talk face to face with other nationals without any feeling of inferiority complex. They know that they are and can be as efficient as any other soldier from any part of the world.” “We have seen how other nationals live. Some . . . are less better off than the Ghanaians but they don’t complain much . . . They don’t curse the world when there is shortage of sugar and milk.” 1 Lt. Makana N. Blay, “From Makana’s Fanara Diary,” Ghana Armed Forces News, February 15, 1975, 4, GAF DPR. 2 Saakem" as it appears in the text. Ibid.; Lt. Col. Eric Aggrey-Quashie, “Re: A Very Specific--and Easy--Request from an American Historian and Researcher,” April 1, 2014 This email confirms the text of the caption under the photo. 280 “As for Pte [Private] ABONGO he now knows that a dollar is a paper note just like the cedi. When he was first paid his dollar allowance popularly known as a ‘Kissinger’ he uttered in surprise, ‘so the dollar way people de talk about ibi [it be] paper? I tink say ibi [it be] gold.’”3 Since the earliest days after independence in 1957, members of the Ghanaian Armed Forces and their families consciously and intentionally joined a global community of military service best described as internationalist. Chapter 2 argued that civilian and military political leaders routinely pegged Ghanaian military education and training to international norms (usually Western, but not exclusively), and restated national military objectives using internationally recognizable reference points and language. Even taking their statements at their most cynical and self-serving to justify military coups and regimes, in practice they resulted in actual international travel for thousands of Ghanaian military men and their families in the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s.4 This chapter explores how Ghanaian soldiers themselves interpreted that international travel, how they specifically considered the opportunity for travel, education, and training abroad as incentives to join the armed forces, and how they negotiated the economic and political incentives of military-sponsored international travel with its own risks and with political and economic uncertainty in Ghana between the 1970s and 1980s. It argues that during those years, Ghanaian military personnel and their families found the experiences of international military education and peacekeeping personally rewarding, but they also connected Ghanaians to global 3 The Cedi is Ghana’s national currency. The “Kissinger” is named after U.S. Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, who helped negotiate the 1973 cease fire and UN mission in Sinai. In other places, Blay and his colleagues transcribed literally the stereotypical “Abongo” style of speech. Blay, “From Makana’s Fanara Diary,” 4; Unknown, “Lt Cpl Abongo Is Back from No Man’s Land,” Ghana Armed Forces News, February 15, 1975, 2, GAF DPR; Unknown, “Lt Cpl Abongo Gossips: Afro Man and Fine Fine ‘Bobby,’” Ghana Armed Forces News, April 15, 1975, 2, GAF DPR. 4 Capt. Georgina Mensah became the first Ghanaian woman peacekeeper in 1985. Stephen Owusu, “The Lone GHANBATT Lady,” Litani: UNIFIL News, February 1985, 5, AG-20; S-1078 Personal Files; Box S-1078-0089; Folder 5 - Litani - UNIFIL News Jan-Jun 1985, UN ARMS. 281 communities while weakening some national bonds. International military service provided Ghanaian families alternate strategies to negotiate economic insecurity in ways that strikingly resemble other diaspora communities, with an essential difference: in this case, Ghanaian soldiers families’ transnational identity still depended on functioning state agencies and international diplomatic processes to facilitate their travel, and the state usually expected them to return promptly after their training. These Ghanaians’ alternate identity was both family-centered and global; employing international travel as both an economic and political strategy to “get ahead” and to forge global relationships based on an international humanitarian ethos.5 Like local volunteers around Fort Leavenworth, this brand of internationalism transcended the state, but still depended on military scaffolding only the state could provide. Especially during the period of Ghana’s military rule (1966-1992), historians have struggled to reconcile the possibility of an “imagined community” of Ghana with the evidence of massive political, economic, and cultural fractures in the Ghanaian state.6 Many African scholars consider the nation-state an unfortunate yet unavoidable level of analysis.7 They acknowledge that the nation-state was the shape of colonialism’s “civilizational siege” of Africa, but rail against the nation-state for failing to express the essence of African identity.8 Ghanaian historiography continues to grapple with whether Ghana met “national” criteria at all, as ongoing competition between regional and ethnonationalisms makes nation-state status fit uncomfortably around Ghanaian history in the three decades after independence.9 5 See Akyeampong, “‘Diasporas,’ Mobility and the Social Imaginary.” 6 Anderson, Imagined Communities. 7 Manger and Assal, “Diasporas Within and Without Africa--Dynamism, Heterogeneity, Variation,” 16; Manning, The African Diaspora: A History through Culture, 323; Robert Young, Postcolonialism, A Very Short Introduction (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), 61; Amoah attempts to reengage the “anthropological reality” of the nation, in opposition to other trends in historiography. Amoah, Reconstructing the Nation in Africa, 4. 8 Korang, Writing Ghana, Imagining Africa, 12. 9 Ibid.; Amoah, Reconstructing the Nation in Africa, 5. 282 Not even the military, the proto-national institution which actually administered the state for most of those years, remained free from society-wide cleavages between corporate and class identities, elitism and radicalism, and ethnicism.10 On the contrary, the prominent historian of Ghanaian military sociology Eboe Hutchful argues, involving themselves in politics made Ghanaian military leaders even more susceptible to “contentious and contradictory hues of broader social dynamics.”11 Military leaders implanted within the corporate structures of the military “the very social pathologies (of mismanagement, corruption, ethnicism and so on) that the military was attempting to eradicate in Ghanaian society.”12 From the “right-leaning” coup in 1966 to the “left-leaning” one in 1972 to the “revolution” of 1979, at one stage or another, all leading social factions in Ghana have imagined their class interests conjecturally reflected in the military.13 Likewise, scholars of national security generally agree that the Ghanaian armed forces, like most others in sub-Saharan Africa, failed to represent the ideals of “professionalism” which were supposedly necessary to bring political development.14 Cloven as it was by class, ethnic, and political divisions, rarely, if ever, did an organization called “the military” act in a “national” way. In the same ways they complicated Ghana’s already fractured political economy after independence, persistent ethnic and regional allegiances also gravely circumscribe any discussion of class within the Ghanaian military. Hutchful argues that none of the leading political or economic factions in Ghana at that time resembled a “fully formed class” or had 10 Baynham calls this a “fragmented” rather than “integral” relationship with their political and social environments. Simon Baynham, “Introduction: Armed Forces in Africa,” in Military Power and Politics in Black Africa, ed. Simon Baynham (London: Croom Helm, 1986), 7. 11 Hutchful, “Institutional Decomposition and Junior Ranks’ Political Action in Ghana,” 214. 12 Ibid. 13 Ibid., 251. 14 Decalo, Coups and Army Rule in Africa: Studies in Military Style, 56; Herbert M. Howe, Ambiguous Order: Military Forces in African States (Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner Publishers, 2001), 57; Huntington, The Soldier and the State: The Theory and Politics of Civil-Military Relations, chap. 4; Huntington, “Political Development and Political Decay,” 429; Eboe Hutchful, “Military Policy and Reform in Ghana,” The Journal of Modern African Studies 35, no. 2 (June 1, 1997): 252. 283 “liberated itself from its roots in pre-capitalist social structures.”15 Those contradictions applied equally within Ghana’s ruling petty bourgeoisie, within the public sector of high civil servants and military officers, and between local manufacturers and merchants. This chapter, therefore, employs the term “class” to describe Ghanaian military families’ socio-economic patterns in income and consumption that connected them to similar communities of soldiers in Ghana but that also translated—however inexactly—to international economic standards for soldiers modeled in places like the United States. As Chapter 4 did, this chapter argues that the thin cultural barrier between Ghanaians and the members of other military communities they encountered abroad reflected both sides’ misperception of the other’s class status. Ghanaians employed this perceived differential in status to make claims for pay and benefits from the Ghanaian government and from the international community. Instead of searching the Ghana military’s failure to fulfill national ideals or its limited success supplying a locus of nationalism around which Ghanaian identities coalesced, this chapter looks instead for alternate uses of military service for individual Ghanaians’ identities. Compared with other Ghanaian elites, military service offered some enviable opportunities— especially in international travel and training. Chapters 2 and 3 explored Ghana’s ongoing relationship with the U.S. International Military Education and Training program. Ghanaian military elites also aggressively pursued inclusion in United Nations peacekeeping operations, first in Congo from 1960 to 1963, then in the Sinai between 1973 and 1979, and Lebanon continuously after 1979. After 1989, Ghanaian soldiers or police joined multinational peacekeeping missions around the world—twenty-three in just the next decade—providing 80,000 soldiers in forty years between 1960 and 2000.16 This extensive military participation 15 Hutchful, “A Tale of Two Regimes,” 41. 16 Including: Namibia, Angola, Western Sahara, Somalia, Mozambique, Rwanda, Chad, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Cambodia, Bosnia-Herzegovina, Croatia, Macedonia, Slavonia, Iran, Iraq, Kuwait, East Timor, Kosovo, Liberia, and Sierra Leone. The number 80,000 includes repeats--it is a tally of participants, not individual soldiers. United 284 abroad reaped corporate benefits and national ones. The UN reimbursed the government of Ghana for equipment depreciation and peacekeepers’ salaries, for example. But peacekeepers themselves also developed international relationships while earning significantly more money on deployments than they could in Ghana. International service altered Ghanaian families as well. Especially on professional courses abroad, wives and children often joined in the travel. In most cases of UN service, wives and children learned new ways to adjust to the difficult separation. As a result, in the 1970s and 1980s, military education, training, and UN service abroad—and the political and economic benefits flowing from them—became an essential aspect of Ghanaian service members and their wives’ individual identities and economic strategies.17 This chapter also argues that internationalism itself motivated Ghanaian soldiers and their families. When abroad on courses or in Egypt or Lebanon in the seventies and eighties, members of the Ghana Armed Forces considered themselves part of an imagined global community of military scholars and peacekeepers that transcended or exceeded their imagined national community as an essential marker and motivation for their service.18 Soldiers’ dispatches from the field, their poems, the messages from home, memoirs, even Makana’s photo of Egyptian children crowding Ghanaians soldiers at mealtime and its caption proclaiming the “spirit of Africa” evoked this community. To complicate matters, as the nation-state dissolved or reformed in their absence, as it did periodically in the 1960s, 1970s, and 1980s, Ghanaian soldiers—as all Ghanaians did—continually renegotiated their national identities. Polarizing the issue into international, national, and sub-national identities does not imply that the individuals lived more Nations Information Center, Ghana: Four Decades of UN and Regional Peacekeeping (Accra: United Nations Information Center, 2000), 26–27. 17 Ghanaian women soldiers began peacekeeping in very small numbers in 1985; by the 1990s participated in larger numbers. Major Comfort Ankomah-Danso describes her experiences briefly in “Breaking the Barriers: Women in Peacekeeping” in ibid., 18; See also Owusu, “The Lone GHANBATT Lady,” 5. 18 Anderson’s “imagined” community is the nation-state. Iriye’s “imagined world” is global. Anderson, Imagined Communities; Iriye, “Internationalizing International History,” 53. 285 than one social reality; they just spoke of it in dichotomous terms.19 But de-emphasizing the nation for a while reveals ways that other identities expressed themselves, sometimes with surprising intensity. If, rather than looking at the national as the essential or radical attribute of military service, and instead consider it an occasional, and occasionally uninvited, guest in individuals’ much larger worldview, we see individuals constantly negotiating the extent to which they permitted the state to contribute or hinder larger plans. Ghanaian service members and their families sometimes engaged the state as an economic enabler, sometimes as a foe subjecting them to danger, sometimes providing refuge from danger, or sometimes as a mode of transportation into a global community. Both men and women leveraged military service and the new template for modernity it imposed to make claims for themselves against the Ghanaian state, just as Ghana did to make claims against the international community.20 Women on the home front learned new ways to manage households in their husbands’ absence, for example. As this chapter explores, they did so by combining some Army-sponsored resources with new and existing social networks in combinations that resembled women’s strategies in other military communities around the world. Ghanaian soldiers and their families moved easily in and out of the global community, even if—as Private Abongo’s realization that the ‘Kissinger’ was a paper note just like the Cedi—the initial international experience was jarring. Part of the definition of the post-independence African diaspora includes the ability to move freely between family, ethnic, national, and international identities.21 In Diasporas Within 19 This is very similar to what we see Congolese traders doing between Kinshasa or Brazzaville and Paris. MacGaffey and Bazenguissa-Ganga, Congo-Paris. 20 Malians made similar claims against the French in the late 20th century. Mann, Native Sons. 21 Akyeampong, “Africans in the Diaspora,” 183; Manu, “‘Efie’ or the Meanings of ‘Home’ Among Female and Male Ghanaian Migrants in Toronto, Canada and Returned Migrants to Ghana,” 143; Manning, The African Diaspora: A History through Culture, xvii; William Ackah, “The Intersection of African Identities in the Twenty- First Century: Old and New Diasporas and the African Continent,” in Reframing Contemporary Africa: Politics, Economics, and Culture in the Global Era, ed. Peyi Soyinka-Airewele and Rita Kiki Edozie (Washington, DC: CQ Press, 2010), 131; Arthur, African Diaspora Identities, xii; Clarke, “New Spheres of Transnational Formations,” 48. 286 and Without Africa, Leif Manger and Munzoul Assal call for us to rethink diaspora communities not as bounded groups, mobile, with clear cut-identities of race and ethnicity, isolated from their environment and in various states of assimilation.22 Instead, they suggest, diasporas are relational, they are sites of intersection for multiple identifications, providing political and economic resources as bases for redefining people’s identities and forms of belonging.23 After independence, individual Africans, especially Ghanaians, made transnationalism and travel key strategies for survival and accumulation.24 In Ghanaians’ social imaginary, “going abroad” meant “getting ahead.” International military structures provided Ghanaians vast numbers of opportunities for “going abroad,” so it makes sense that the transnational or international experiences they made along the way altered their local and national identities. Continuing pre- independence patterns of mobility, the combination of voluntary and reluctant military travel also resembled other Africans’ enthusiasm and hesitation to join the diaspora.25 In such a way, military service to the nation contributed to the de-stabilization of the nation-state that Manger and Assal and Paul Gilroy argue are hallmarks of the transnational diaspora identity.26 A closer look at international military service, therefore, offers striking similarities—with some significant differences—between Ghanaian military personnel and their families and other African diaspora communities abroad. The chapter begins by exploring Ghanaian individuals’ enthusiasm for international military travel in the context of the corporate and national benefits it also provided for Ghana’s 22 Manger and Assal, “Diasporas Within and Without Africa--Dynamism, Heterogeneity, Variation,” 7. 23 Ibid., 12. 24 Akyeampong, “‘Diasporas,’ Mobility and the Social Imaginary,” 25. 25 Although Abaka maintains that “Hausa” identity persisted, not that a “military” identity replaced it. Edmund Abaka, “Traders, Slaves, and Soldiers: The Hausa Diaspora in Ghana (Gold Coast and Asante) in the Nineteenth and Early Twentieth Centuries,” in Movements, Borders, and Identities in Africa, ed. Toyin Falola and Aribidesi Adisa Usman, Rochester Studies in African History and the Diaspora, v. 40 (Rochester, NY: University of Rochester Press, 2009), 194; Arthur, African Diaspora Identities, 128. 26 Manger and Assal, “Diasporas Within and Without Africa--Dynamism, Heterogeneity, Variation,” 17; Paul Gilroy, The Black Atlantic: Modernity and Double Consciousness (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1993). 287 Armed Forces and the Ghanaian state in the 1970s and 1980s. Much of the political uncertainty that threatened Ghanaian political leaders also affected Ghanaian soldiers—which is not surprising because they were often the same. For Ghanaian military families, international travel for education or UN service provided a temporary economic or political asylum, or offered benefits that loosened restraints of class and that they could parley into economic independence in the future. Military families often used extra pay and benefits to build houses for themselves and furnish them with appliances that were scarce in Ghana. Thus they bridged traditional values governing domestic space with recent innovations that represented their changing criteria for the modern home and modern family. While abroad, Ghanaian families also formed global networks with other military families, with other soldiers, and with the people whose peace they deployed to protect. UN service was the most common method for forming these networks and building economic and political buffers, but UN service also caused lengthy separations between Ghanaian soldiers and their wives. Women, therefore, participated in the internationalist identity differently than men, often by becoming more independent and detaching somewhat from prior regional or group identities. Finally, the chapter explores international military service not as an economic or political strategy, but as a transnational identity. Considering its ongoing dependence on state resources, this identity is best described as international, based partly on national pride but largely on equal participation in a global project for peace. Between the mid-1960s and early 1990s, the military dominated Ghanaian politics, but this chapter does not dwell on military rule or its impact on Ghanaian society or the armed forces themselves. With few exceptions, historians concur that military rule was disastrous for Ghanaian political culture, Ghana’s economy, and even the armed forces’ own development.27 In 27 Baynham, “Divide et Impera”; Hutchful, “Military Policy and Reform in Ghana”; Austin, “The Ghana Armed Forces and Ghanaian Society”; Baynham, The Military and Politics in Nkrumah’s Ghana; Addae, History of Ghana Armed Forces: Military Organizations and Regiments; Aboagye, The Ghana Army. 288 the late 1960s and 1970s, Ghana’s military declined in capability and morale as precipitously as the rest of Ghana’s economy. Some sympathetic voices suggest that military rule was a symptom of larger regional and global stress, and the armed forces declined in parallel to Ghana’s general economic decline after 1962.28 None claim that military rulers delivered on their promises to restore national unity, end corruption, or deliver prosperity better than a civilian government did, or could do. Neither does this chapter. Instead, it attempts to evaluate how individual families in Ghana’s armed forces employed the military’s tenuous, but ongoing, connections to international military exchange and employment structures in their personal strategies for political or economic liberation and how they internalized the moral aspects of participating in a global military structure. “We Know the Sea That Washes Our Shores:” The Politics of International Service Until now, we have examined the United States’ international military education and training program from the perspective of U.S. foreign policy, from the perspective of American communities, and as an essential element of the Ghana Armed Forces personnel policies. For Ghanaian families, international training or peacekeeping deployments abroad often offered a method to mitigate political and economic uncertainty at home. Much of the evidence describing the way individuals employed international military travel between the early 1960s and 1990s suggests that international travel altered the way Ghanaians identified with their own state. Like other Ghanaian professionals, military members were also vulnerable to changing political and economic circumstances in Ghana and abroad. Military service combined the two conditions— opportunity for international training through travel and vulnerability—in ways that were both common and unique among other groups of Ghanaians abroad. 28 Addae, A Short History of Ghana Armed Forces; See also Chazan, An Anatomy of Ghanaian Politics. 289 Ghana Armed Forces leaders had always touted military service for offering opportunities for advanced education, but recruits especially responded to the opportunities for education and training abroad. Even before independence, promising cadets attended the Royal Military Academy at Sandhurst. Six left for England in 1956; two did in 1957. Thirteen more, including G. Dako, did in 1958.29 By 1970, sixty Ghanaian men had gone to Sandhurst.30 The chance to attend Sandhurst inspired other young men from Dako’s hometown of Achimota to join the army as well, he recalled, which was significant because Akans from Achimota previously reviled military service.31 At Sandhurst, Dako met cadets from Iraq, Malaysia, South Africa, Kenya, Uganda, and Sierra Leone.32 He later remembered his service as “a world of extensive travel throughout Ghana, Europe, and America.”33 An Army recruiting advertisement in the Ghanaian Times promising “overseas training in the United Kingdom” convinced Henry Kwami Anyidoho to compete for a job as an army radio operator in 1960.34 “In those days,” he recalled, “to travel to the United Kingdom alone was a great achievement in society.”35 International travel, in other words, permitted Dako and Anyidoho to transcend former regional and ethnic prejudice against military service. Shortly after the 1966 coup, in his AF News article celebrating the putsch, public affairs officer Lieutenant A. A. Enninful boasted, “A number of young officers are currently on study leave in Ghanaian universities. Elsewhere in European universities there are lots more studying engineering or doing post-graduate courses.”36 For 29 Addae uses the common practice of using only first initials when discussing minor military officials in historical work. Sandhurst’s records do not include his first name. More research may reveal his first name. A. R. Morton, “RE: Request for Research Assistance Regarding Ghanaian Cadets at RMA Sandhurst,” January 18, 2012. 30 Ibid. 31 Addae, History of Ghana Armed Forces: Military Organizations and Regiments, 3:74. 32 Ibid., 3:76. 33 Ibid. 34 Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step, 19. 35 Ibid. 36 Enninful, “The Change From Civil To Military,” 20. 290 Ghanaians, Harvard historian Emmanuel Akyeampong argues, “to travel is to get ahead,” and for some, military service offered a promising opportunity for just that.37 Since independence, international education programs were necessary for promotion to higher ranks in Ghana’s armed forces, they bestowed prestige, and military and political leaders manipulated them as rewards. Like any other political prize, overseas courses could also be withheld from political enemies. American ambassadors knew it; so did the Defense and State Department officials who ran the U.S.’s International Military Education and Training Program.38 Just before his overthrow in January 1972, for example, President Kofi Busia attempted to defuse a perceived threat to his office by ethnic Ewes by scattering Ewe officers, sending Air Force Commander Brigadier Ashley-Lassen to the Imperial Defense College in India for a year.39 After that plan failed, Colonel Emmanuel Erskine, one of the nine members of the ruling National Redemption Council junta who ousted Busia accepted a one-year posting to the Imperial Defense College in England just three weeks after the coup as a reward.40 Recalling his staff college experience three decades later, Brigadier Achel was convinced that “his politics” had both led to his selection for the U.S. Command and General Staff College in 1976 and capped his career at Brigadier in the 1980s.41 In the wake of the 1979 coup, the general fractures in the Ghana Armed Forces became tangible to Ghanaians struggling to secure or retain overseas courses they thought they had 37 Akyeampong, “‘Diasporas,’ Mobility and the Social Imaginary,” 30. 38 Black, “Confidential Telegram from Shirley Temple Black, US Ambassador to Ghana, to Secretary of State; 12 March 1976, Subject: Changes in Pricing of Foreign Military Training Program”; Dan Henk, Uncharted Paths, Uncertain Vision U.S. Military Involvements in Sub-Saharan Africa in the Wake of the Cold War, Occasional Paper 18 (Colorado Springs, CO: USAF Institute for National Security Studies, US Air Force Academy, 1998), 29; William H. McCoy, Senegal and Liberia: Case Studies in U.S. IMET Training and Its Role in Internal Defense and Development, N-3637-USDP (Santa Monica, CA: RAND, 1994), 4. 39 Air Force Commander, Army Commander, etc. were equivalent to the Chief of Staff. Bennett, “Epilogue: Malcontents in Uniform,” 304. 40 Fred L. Hadsel, “Telegram from U.S. Ambassador Fred L. Hadsel, Ghana to U.S. State Department, February 10, 1972; Subject: Changes in NRC,” Telegram (Accra, February 10, 1972), RG 59 SNF 1970-1973; Box 2323, folder POL 15 Ghana, 1/1/70, NACP. 41 Achel, Interview with Brigadier Achel. 291 earned. Henry Kwami Anyidoho’s is a case in point. In spring 1979, Anyidoho “was all joy” when he learned of his selection for the staff college at Fort Leavenworth.42 During the June 4, 1979 uprising, however, junior officers and non-commissioned officers loyal to Flight Lieutenant Jerry J. Rawlings detained then-Major Anyidoho along with most of Ghana’s other senior officers for questioning and trials. His regiment’s junior officers locked Anyidoho and his colleagues in the headquarters’ coffee room for several days before transferring him to Flagstaff House, Ghana’s capitol building, to join senior officers from across Ghana in detention.43 At military bases elsewhere, junior officers and men incarcerated the senior officers in the Officer’s Mess, prohibited them from receiving visitors or food from their families, and shaved their heads.44 By the end of June, Rawlings’ Armed Forces Revolutionary Council (AFRC) released most of the senior officers, but executed eight Ghanaian generals, including former Head of State Acheampong, the Chief of Defense Staff and Chiefs of Staff from the Army, Air Force, and Navy.45 The junta eventually released Anyidoho; but “a young signal officer” who Anyidoho had angered earlier in his career derailed Anyidoho’s posting to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. “My course was cancelled and restored, then cancelled again and restored, and cancelled,” he recalled.46 “The mental torture was so much that I was losing weight rapidly.”47 Anyidoho decided to forget about the course, forget about the army, and concentrate on building up his family farm. “My children were growing so I farmed to supplement my pay in order to feed them properly,” he wrote.48 In fact, nearly every Ghanaian military family supplemented its income in 42 Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step, 64. 43 Ibid. 44 Oduro-Kwarteng, The Memoirs of a Colonel Retired, 40; Baynham, “Divide et Impera,” 636. 45 Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 103. 46 Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step, 65. 47 Ibid. 48 Ibid. 292 some way during the 1970s and 1980s by farming, cooking, or performing additional domestic work for pay.49 During the heyday of “Operation Feed Yourself” in the 1970s, military units themselves also ran cattle ranches, poultry farms, cassava farms, rice, and yam farms on military bases across Ghana.50 Anyidoho had used the income he and his wife Mercy had earned in Georgia, U.S.A in 1975 and 1976 to begin a palm oil plantation near Accra, and he retreated there after his humiliation in June 1979. “It was when I returned from the Pokuase farm one evening,” he recalled, “that a young officer from Signals, Captain Egeme-Ari had come to look for me; I was to leave for the course the following day! I was not enthusiastic anymore but decided to think it over.”51 Anyidoho had trained in the United States twice before. As an unmarried corporal, Henry became the first Ghanaian to attend a technical school in the United States in April 1962, when he completed the Field Radio Repair course at Fort Gordon, Georgia. Despite first-hand experience with Southern racism—he was thrown out of an off-post pool room because of his color—he still considered the trip “one of my life dreams came true; I landed in the white man’s country!”52 “A good deal of integration had taken place” in the American military, he said, and he felt “very lucky to have established a very good relationship with most of my white classmates.”53 Then-corporal Anyidoho did not dwell on the experience of being a Black African in segregation-era Georgia; in his memoir, he did not mention it again, even when he came back to the American South in 1975 and 1979. In May 1975, Major Anyidoho returned to Fort Gordon for the yearlong Advanced Communications Course.54 His wife Mercy, who had a certification 49 Addae, History of Ghana Armed Forces: Military Organizations and Regiments, 3:26. 50 Ibid., 3:26, 143. 51 Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step, 65. 52 Ibid., 26. 53 Ibid., 27. 54 Ibid., 60. 293 from the Nursing Council of England and Wales, joined him in Georgia and found a nursing job at a hospital in Augusta, even though she had given birth to their daughter Mawuse just three months prior.55 Mercy’s mother moved into his on-post house in Accra to mind Mawuse. In Georgia, meanwhile, Mercy cried “night after night” over the little daughter she left in Ghana.56 Henry and Mercy made friends with other Ghanaians in Augusta, including a doctor from the hospital and his wife, two other Ghanaian officers at Fort Gordon and their wives, and the wife of a Ghanaian officer who had stayed in the U.S. “to do a degree course in Nursing” after her husband finished his course and returned to Ghana.57 In Georgia in 1976, Henry and Mercy invested their money carefully. “Georgia being a cotton producing state,” he wrote, “we bought a lot of clothes for our children and our friends . . . Most impressive of all, we bought two new Toyota cars.”58 They planned to keep one, he recalled, but the other “was to be sold in Ghana for us to start a private housing project. A turning point indeed!”59 When Henry’s course ended and he returned to Ghana, Mercy stayed behind for a few months “since she was doing a short course and also wanted to earn a few more dollars.”60 He remembered, “We were going to miss each other for a while, but for a good purpose.”61 Henry and Mercy’s experience in Georgia closely resembled other economic migration strategies for non-military Ghanaians of the same period. African émigrés often found work in hospitals and clinics in non-metropolitan communities in the United States during this time.62 Brigadier Ignatius Achel’s wife worked at a nursing home in Kansas while he attended 55 Ibid. 56 Ibid., 61. 57 Ibid. 58 Ibid. 59 Ibid. 60 Ibid., 62. 61 Ibid. 62 Arthur, African Diaspora Identities, 51–69. 294 Command and General Staff College, for example.63 In a kind of mini-chain, Henry first established a home in Georgia, then sent for Mercy, who quickly found a job and remained in the U.S. after he returned to Ghana. Mercy’s arrival inspired the other two Ghanaian officers’ wives to come to Georgia and join their spouses, Henry recalled. 64 She facilitated their integration in the host society while maintaining a connection with home, just as transnational African immigrant networks do elsewhere.65 Despite great sadness leaving her children, Mercy understood her contribution to the migration, saw herself as Henry’s partner, and even remained in the U.S. to maximize the family’s economic gain.66 The Anyidohos arranged for extended family members in Ghana to perform child-rearing tasks in their absence, but also made use of the resources of the Ghanaian state—in this case, Anyidoho’s on-post house—to facilitate the process.67 Finally, the Anyidohos used their savings from the migration to build a home and business in Ghana. John Arthur argues that when migrants abroad built homes in Africa, they declared their intent to foster a transnational identity that straddled multiple societies.68 Building a home expressed material well-being, dedication to ancestors and extended families, and affirmed ties with the homeland.69 In short, during their year in Georgia in 1975 and 1976, the Anyidohos capitalized on a state-to-state program for military cooperation to execute their own family’s transnational economic strategy while maintaining a simultaneous “presence” in home communities as well.70 63 Achel, Interview with Brigadier Achel. 64 Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step, 61. 65 Arthur, African Diaspora Identities, 79. 66 These are precisely the same conclusions Manu derives observing Ghanaian families in Toronto, Canada. Manu, “‘Efie’ or the Meanings of ‘Home’ Among Female and Male Ghanaian Migrants in Toronto, Canada and Returned Migrants to Ghana,” 157. 67 This reflects another of Manu’s observations. Ibid. 68 Arthur, African Diaspora Identities, 132. 69 Akyeampong, “Africans in the Diaspora,” 185; Manu, “‘Efie’ or the Meanings of ‘Home’ Among Female and Male Ghanaian Migrants in Toronto, Canada and Returned Migrants to Ghana,” 146; Owusu, “The Role of Ghanaian Immigrant Associations in Toronto, Canada,” 1174–1175; Arthur, African Diaspora Identities, 138. 70 Mann considers this ability or need to remain “present” in home communities an important concern for West Africans serving in French colonial armies. It matches, though not precisely, similar arguments from Manu. Mann, Native Sons, 177. 295 Their experience with staff college in 1979 revealed a different purpose for international education. The June 4th uprising fractured the Anyidoho family. Mercy and the two youngest children moved to her brother’s family home. Their two older sons lived with Henry on-post at Burma Camp. “I brought the bigger boys Akpe and Kafui to sleep in the Camp for two reasons,” Henry recalled. “Firstly, I wanted them to grow up as strong and bold men who will not panic at the slightest sign of danger and secondly just in case I got picked up in the night, they could be witnesses to it.”71 After receiving word that his staff college posting had returned, Mercy convinced Henry not to pass up the opportunity. “Her reason was simple,” he remembered. “The army was my chosen career so I should pursue it.”72 When a driver arrived to take him to the airport the next morning, he had still not told his children he was leaving. “What kind of life was this!”73 Throughout the trip, he remembered, his thoughts returned to his wife and children: “Were they safe?”74 Henry discovered mid-journey that he was headed to the U.S. Marine Corps Command and General Staff College in Quantico, Virginia and not Fort Leavenworth. He became only the second Ghanaian officer to attend there. 75 “I did not want to leave anyone at home because of the uncertainties,” he wrote, so he applied through the Ghanaian embassy for Mercy and the children to join him in Virginia, borrowing money from friends and relatives to pay for their travel.76 When they finally arrived, he remembered, “all the wives of the other officers in my den, and we were twelve in all, came to my bungalow and put the house in order.”77 71 Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step, 65. 72 Ibid., 66. 73 Ibid. 74 Ibid., 67. 75 Ibid., 66. 76 Ibid., 69. 77 Ibid. 296 The Anyidohos’ year at the Marine Corps staff college in the U.S. kept them safe. They had leveraged the Ghana Armed Forces’ continuing relationship with international training and education programs around the world for their own protection. In a time of danger after the coup, the Anyidohos manipulated the Ghana government’s longstanding international commitment to obtain protection from violence the domestic Ghanaian state could not contain. They found in the American community around Quantico Marine Corps base a welcoming multinational community that was familiar with international military officers, and that the Anyidohos easily recognized from their prior experience in the U.S. for military education. The Ghanaian state initiated and administered international military education, but individuals continually negotiated with the state’s uncertainty. In January 1980, Major Michael Abana readily accepted a short-notice assignment to the Pakistani Command and Staff College in Quettah despite the army’s promise that they would send him to the Indian staff college later in the year. Given the political upheaval of the prior year in the Ghanaian armed forces, Abana said, he feared he might never get the opportunity to attend staff college if he passed up that chance.78 By then, he said, “I was fed up with military rule in Ghana for a while yet” but had no illusions about Pakistan’s ongoing military governments, either.79 “There was a day that we were discussing these sorts of things in the classroom, when I told [my Pakistani colleagues] point blank that it was not their responsibility to rule, they are to soldier!” he recalled.80 “I was lucky I was not sacked! Why could I have been sacked? [Because] they have told us, ‘we know the sea that washes our shores, but we do not talk about it.’”81 They need not mention the Indian Ocean by name; they need not mention the illegitimacy of military rule. Both just were. Both the Pakistani army and Abana understood that military rule was problematic, but with a combination 78 Abana, Interview with Col Abana. 79 Ibid. 80 Ibid. 81 Ibid. 297 of fatalism and resolve, the staff college continued, and continued to accept Ghanaian officers. Meanwhile, Abana and his wife Peggy both learned a different perspective about Pakistan. “Even up till now,” he mused thirty years later, “whenever something happens in Pakistan, if she hears, she says ‘Hey Mike, this is happening in Pakistan.’ It was a good education for her, too.”82 Michael Abana, Peggy, and his Pakistani colleagues all considered their friendships legitimate, even if they knew their respective governments were not. Sometimes the Ghanaian state did worse than just than frustrate the military scholar abroad. Like Henry and Mercy Anyidoho—but on the other side of the world—in 1975, Lieutenant Steve Oduro-Kwarteng attended a Signals Officer course overseas, in India. Like the Anyidohos, he saved his money. “At the end of the course, I was able to return to Ghana with a dashing two-door Datsun car ordered directly from Japan,” he wrote.83 Similar to Anyidoho, he left Ghana again in autumn 1979 for a three-year program in electrical and telecommunication engineering at two military universities in India.84 “In the second year of the degree course,” he recalled, “I received a confidential letter from the defense advisor at the Ghana high commission in India telling me of my retirement from the Ghana Army.”85 In his absence, the Ghana Armed Forces had decreed that all officers and senior enlisted personnel who were “closely associated” with Rawlings’ Armed Force Revolutionary Council “should be retired from the Armed Forces.”86 Oduro-Kwarteng lived through the January 1972 coup as a junior officer, and he understood the perils of a politicized military, but he could not avoid the chaos of Flight 82 Ibid. 83 Oduro-Kwarteng, The Memoirs of a Colonel Retired, 34 Although neither Oduro-Kwarteng nor Anyidoho use names, they specifically dismiss the events as regrettable, and state they were both mistakenly accused, Anyidoho probably thought Oduro-Kwarteng was the “junior signals officer” who sabotaged his CGSC course. Oduro- Kwarteng tried to defend himself from Anyidoho’s accusation in his book. It is strange that the two most detailed memoirs by Ghanaian military officers should specifically clash against one another. 84 Ibid., 43. 85 Ibid. 86 Ibid. 298 Lieutenant Rawlings’ June 4,, 1979 revolution. As the coup began, Rawlings and his AFRC detained all officers with the rank of major and above and directed the senior Captain in each armed forces unit “to take control of affairs in the unit until things were properly sorted out, and that no senior officer was to be touched.”87 This order triggered Major Henry Anyidoho’s captivity in the regimental coffee room at the Ghana Armed Forces Headquarters at Burma Camp. At the first major meeting between Rawlings’ Council and representatives from across the services, Rawlings selected then-Captain Oduro-Kwarteng to take notes and produce a transcript for the meeting. Oduro-Kwarteng served as Rawlings’ recorder routinely after that, often appearing in photographs beside Rawlings, although Oduro-Kwarteng claimed he had no ideological stake in the revolution.88 Rawlings retreated from power temporarily between September 1979 and December 1981, and Ghana’s new civilian regime attempted to restore the military hierarchy by offering Armed Forces Revolutionary Council members the choice “to go on courses overseas, to retire and be resettled, [or] to take extended leave before re-joining their units.”89 Oduro-Kwarteng, already on a course in India at that time, shared Rawlings’ (temporary) fate: the Limann government forcibly retired both from the Ghana Armed Forces.90 A formal international agreement had sent Oduro-Kwarteng to India in September 1979, but he quickly exercised his own initiative when the scaffolding of national sponsorship dissolved beneath him. In May 1981, the Ghanaian government formally “retired” him, but the Indian military university he attended did not acknowledge his changed status, so Oduro- Kwarteng kept the news to himself and “concentrate[d] on the course.”91 “Because I was no more recognized as an Army Officer,” he wrote, “I told myself that if the Ghana government did 87 Ibid., 39. 88 Ibid., 41. 89 Baynham, “Divide et Impera,” 637. 90 Ibid., 638 Oduro-Kwarteng does not mention if his three-year academic posting to India in September 1979 was a politically-motivated reward. 91 Oduro-Kwarteng, The Memoirs of a Colonel Retired, 43. 299 not want me in the Ghana Army anymore, the Engineering market in the civil world might want my services. From then on, I forgot about the Ghana Army and rather worked harder on my books and projects.”92 He finished the course in 1982 and earned a bachelor’s degree in engineering, but his family faced a difficult choice. Stephen Oduro-Kwarteng, his wife Genevieve, and their three children (one born in India) were out of work and out of money. “Some universities were prepared to accept me for the Masters Degree,” he wrote, “but it was financially very difficult for me to sponsor myself in a university in India.”93 They considered staying in London, “but [we] did not have the resident permit.”94 They knew that “back at home in Ghana, people had been looking for AFRC members and their associates to bring them to face justice.”95 In fact, Rawlings had overthrown President Limann in December 1981, and his own Provisional National Democratic Congress (PNDC) was behind the purge of former Armed Forces Revolutionary Council (AFRC) members. Nevertheless, Stephen Oduro-Kwarteng recalled, “I had nothing to hide and nothing to be afraid of, so I did come home.”96 In 1983, the Ghana Army reinstated Oduro-Kwarteng and restored his captain’s rank. When the state retired Oduro-Kwarteng from the service, he “forgot about the army” and concentrated on his studies as an engineering student. After weighing their options and returning to Ghana, Steve and Genevieve warily re-established their connection to the army and the Ghanaian state. In both the Oduro-Kwarteng and Anyidoho families’ cases, the Ghanaian state facilitated the international travel that they wielded in their own defense against the state itself. Neither dwelled much on this contradiction in their memoirs, but both recognized that their service in the 92 Ibid., 44. 93 Ibid., 45. 94 Ibid., 46. 95 Ibid. 96 Ibid. 300 armed forces was contingent on political factors in Ghana that they could not control. Kwame Anthony Appiah argues that by the mid-1970s, most ordinary Ghanaians avoided interaction with Army officials, who so dominated Ghana’s civic and economic life that they were more likely to be “feared and resented” than welcomed.97 Both of these families maximized the protection the state offered while simultaneously insulating themselves from the danger it threatened. This tense relationship with the state, which shifted between national military service and transnational labor migration, resembled the experience of other Ghanaians in the diaspora, who often considered their migration “a voluntary and personal act undertaken without government role.”98 Ghanaian military families usually returned to Ghana after shorter absences and relied on formal state mechanisms to execute their travel plans, but by joining Ghanaian communities abroad, investing their pay carefully, and building homes for themselves on their return, they insulated themselves from the state’s unpredictability in ways similar to others in the diaspora.99 International military service with the United Nations offered Ghanaians other opportunities for similar self-preservation. Major General Emmanuel Erskine employed a related tactic in June 1979, when he carefully negotiated for 300 of Ghana’s contingent of 500 peacekeeping soldiers in the United Nations Emergency Force II (UNEF) in the Sinai to move to the new United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon (UNIFIL) rather than return to Ghana as the UNEF mandate ended.100 Erskine considered service in the bloody Lebanese war safer than 97 Appiah, In My Father’s House, 168. 98 Arthur, African Diaspora Identities, 128. 99 Ibid.; Manu, “‘Efie’ or the Meanings of ‘Home’ Among Female and Male Ghanaian Migrants in Toronto, Canada and Returned Migrants to Ghana,” 157. 100 Brian Urquhart, “Code Cable from Urquhart to Erskine; August 16, 1979; Subject: Ghana Contingent in UNIFIL” (New York, August 16, 1979), AG-20; S-0356 UNIFIL Subject Files; Box 11; Folder 6, UN ARMS; Emmanuel A. Erskine, “Code Cable from Erskine to Urquhart; August 11, 1979; Subject: Planning for Employment of GHANBATT in UNIFIL” (New York, August 11, 1979), AG-20; S-0356 UNIFIL Subject Files; Box 11; Folder 6, UN ARMS; Brian Urquhart, “Code Cable from Urquhart to Siilasvuo and Erskine; August 10, 1979; Subject: Siilasvuo’s Meeting with Eitan” (New York, August 10, 1979), AG-20; S-0356 UNIFIL Subject Files; Box 46; Folder 8, UN ARMS. 301 returning to Ghana. “I felt that to send the troops home might act as a catalyst for exacerbating the already difficult and uncertain situation in Ghana,” he later wrote.101 Like him, many of them may have been in personal danger, as well. In February 1972, just weeks after Ghana’s second coup, Colonel Acheampong rewarded fellow National Redemption Committee member then- Colonel Erskine for his three weeks’ service as Army Chief of Staff with a one-year posting to the Imperial Defense College in England.102 Erskine resumed his position as Army Chief of Staff after he returned in January 1973. In November 1973, Erskine led the Ghanaian delegation that negotiated with U.N. Secretary-General Waldheim for Ghana’s inclusion in the UNEF II peacekeeping mission and led to his own selection as Chief of Staff for the UN force.103 Erskine served exclusively with the U.N. in Egypt and Lebanon after that, even commanding the United Nations Interim Force in Lebanon until 1986, when he finally returned to Ghana.104 International military service kept Erskine safely away from Ghana during the turbulent years surrounding the demise of the Acheampong regime and the rise of Rawlings without ever damaging his reputation. The stakes were high. The three Army Commanders who succeeded him were killed in the coup or executed in June 1979, and Erskine understandably avoided Ghana during that time.105 He specifically cancelled a planned trip to speak to the Ghana Armed Forces Command and Staff College in June 1979 and spoke at the Nigerian Staff College instead.106 Erskine convinced the United Nations to pay him directly at a pay scale comparable to other UN officials and far higher than the Ghanaian standard, so he could afford for his wife and 101 Erskine, Mission with UNIFIL, 155. 102 Hadsel, “Telegram from U.S. Ambassador Fred L. Hadsel, Ghana to U.S. State Department, February 10, 1972; Subject: Changes in NRC.” 103 H. Philipp, “Autobriography [sic] of Brigadier-General Erskine” (New York, February 28, 1975), AG-20; S-0332 UNEF Subject Files; Box S-0332-007; Folder 6 Ghana 1973-1979, UN ARMS. 104 Erskine, Mission with UNIFIL, 160. 105 Maj. Gen. Odartey-Wellington died in action on June 4th 1979, Rawlings executed Akuffo and Kotei. Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 103, 390. 106 Emmanuel A. Erskine, “Code Cable from Erskine to Urquhart; June 25, 1979; Subject: Visit to Nigeria” (Naqoura, Lebanon, June 25, 1979), AG-20; S-0356 UNIFIL Subject Files; Box 32; Folder 1, UN ARMS. 302 six children to remain in England while he served in the Middle East.107 Throughout the 1970s and even during the Rawlings years, the Ghanaian AF News, Ghanaian press, and Ghanaian Embassy celebrated Erskine’s achievements and visibility as a highly decorated, internationally recognized Ghanaian military officer leading a global mission for peace.108 For these three military families—the Erskines, Anyidohos, and Oduro-Kwartengs—the international military education and UN service offered protection from political uncertainty in Ghana. The three families’ responses to that uncertainty also revealed an allegiance to an international ideal of military corporateness that transcended national identities. For them, Military Internationalism persisted when national structures failed. There was nothing surprising or unusual about the wives of the other eleven officers in the Anyidohos’ class at the Marine Corps Command and Staff College preparing their home for Mercy’s arrival. In practically any other setting, we might expect any other group of neighbors or classmates to do the same. In fact, the gesture’s very ordinariness—and the Anyidohos understanding of it—offers hints to the universality of the experience that requires our attention. Henry Anyidoho’s “den,” his community of twelve classmates who worked as a unit through the staff college year, included a Canadian officer, a U.S. Army officer, the Anyidohos’ sponsor, and eight other American Marine Corps officers.109 Two other African officers, Commander Kassem 107 Ensio Siilasvuo, “Incoming Code Cable from Siilasvuio to Urquhart/Guyer; September 20, 1974, Subject: Urquharts Cable 1529 to Guyer (Erskine Pay)” (New York, September 20, 1974), AG-20; S-0332 UNEF Subject Files; Box S-0332-007; Folder 7 Ghana 12/111973-11/11/1974, UN ARMS; Unknown, “Biographical Note; Major- General Emmanuel Alexander Erskine” (New York, December 22, 1975), AG-20; S-0332 UNEF Subject Files; Box S-0332-007; Folder 6 Ghana 1973-1979, UN ARMS. 108 Unknown, “Top Post for Erskine,” Ghana Armed Forces News, December 15, 1974, 6, GAF DPR; Embassy of Ghana, Ghana News, Vol 6 No 7/74 1974 (Washington, DC: Embassy of Ghana, April 30, 1974), 4–5; Unknown, “Erskine Rides High,” Ghana Armed Forces News, September 15, 1975, 1, GAF DPR; Unknown, “Gen. Erskine Takes On New Job,” Ghana Armed Forces News, March 15, 1976, 5, GAF DPR; Unknown, “UNTSO in Close Ties With UNEF,” Ghana Armed Forces News, September 15, 1976, 11; Embassy of Ghana, “Erskine: Army Must Be Loyal to Govt.,” Ghana News, February 1981, 5. 109 Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step, 68 Unlike Fort Leavenworth students, the Anyidhohos had only a “military sponsor,” and not a separate sponsor family from the civilian community around the base (or two). 303 Amir Abdel Hamid of Egypt and Lieutenant Colonel John Shagayah of Nigeria, were in other “dens” at the college. After the course, Henry and Colonel Shagayah remained close friends and visited each other regularly. In the 1980s, during UNIFIL deployments, Henry visited former classmates Major Adnan Bechara of Lebanon and Colonel Dedvani Jehuda of Israel (in different rooms, presumably, but not necessarily).110 Henry’s English professor, Dr. Argus Tresidder complimented Henry’s work, challenged him to improve as a writer, and later inspired him to write Guns Over Kigali, his memoir of serving in Rwanda.111 International military education connected the Anyidohos to an alternate global community where even spouses’ relationships mirrored the classroom’s internationalism. Participants publicly sported national military insignia, but only to identify them as a transnational partner, not supplicant. At least Henry Anyidoho thought so. He boasted that his final essay on African unity “won a great deal of admiration” and became a research resource for the Marine Corps Staff College curriculum for many years.112 Such an identity, constructed on a world scale rather than a national one did not entirely contradict the nation-state, but it requires us to seek alternate relationships between families in international military communities. This is what Manger and Assal mean by “dynamism, heterogeneity, and variation,” although they may be surprised to find similarities between international military identities and diaspora ones.113 Internationalism Accessed through UN Service Given UN service’s clear benefits to the Ghana government’s national interests, the military’s corporate interests, or even individuals’ economic interests, it is difficult to parse the 110 Ibid. 111 Anyidoho thanks Tresidder in his preface. Henry Kwami Anyidoho, Guns Over Kigali (Accra: Woeli Publishing Services, 1997), xiii; Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step, 69. 112 Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step, 69. 113 Manger and Assal, “Diasporas Within and Without Africa--Dynamism, Heterogeneity, Variation,” 16. 304 extent to which Ghanaians’ expressions of international solidarity with soldiers and peacekeepers represents an internationalist identity. After Ghana joined the UN Emergency Force in the Sinai (UNEF II) in 1973, the UN paid Ghana well, and Ghana’s military governments passed much of that reimbursement on to soldiers’ families. Still, the experience of peacekeeping service required individual families to derive meaningful explanations for the difficulties of the mission, the potential danger of peacekeeping service, and the combination of personal benefits (in the form of increased pay) and global benefits (in the sense of international peace) that peacekeeping accrued. This section describes how UN peacekeeping served national, corporate, and individual needs in order to reveal Ghanaians’ expressions of international solidarity that simple terms of nationalism, power, class, or wealth cannot explain. Instead, UN service, like military training and education abroad, actualized in service members and their families an international identity, membership in an unbounded group that employed national resources for its creation and support, but in which individual participants readily exchanged national identities for supra- national ones sometimes, and sub-national ones other times. In the next section, we explore more deeply how Ghanaian soldiers made the international act of peacekeeping, personal. In 1973 and again in his 1989 memoir, Lieutenant General Emmanuel Erskine asserted an international identity accessible through global military service, and urged Ghanaian participation in United Nations peacekeeping missions to gain access to it, but corporate stresses within Ghana’s military also motivated him. He attended commissioning training and two advanced staff colleges in the U.K. in the 1960s and 1970s, as well as Signals Officer training in the United States in 1962.114 In 1973, as Army Commander, he claimed that Ghanaian military 114 Unknown, “Letter from F. E. Boaten, Ghana Ambassador to the United Nations to L. A. Koho, United Nations Secretariat; March 25, 1974; Subject: Brigadier Erskine’s Curriculum Vitae” (New York, March 25, 1974), AG-20 UN Office for Special Political Affairs; S-0332 UNEF Subject Files; Box S-0332-007; Folder 10 Countries - Ghana [UNEF II] 4/1/1978-17/8/1979, United Nations ARMS. 305 leaders “yearned” for another UN-sponsored peacekeeping mission to provide experience and opportunities for Ghanaian soldiers, just as Ghana’s mission in the Congo had done a decade earlier.115 The Congo crisis had brought unusually rapid mobility for Army officers between 1960 and 1963, but the end of the mission had also caused training, experience, and promotions to stagnate.116 Simon Baynham, the prominent historian of Ghana’s military, argues that service in the Congo and Ghana’s period of rapid expansion and promotion in the early 1960s created a massive clot of men with near-equal age, rank, and expectations for advancement despite a dearth of promotion opportunities.117 “Institutionalized instability” resulted, Baynham argues, partially blaming the 1966 and 1972 coups on ongoing competition for training, education, and opportunities for promotion that resulted.118 Erskine undoubtedly perceived in 1973 that Ghanaian participation in UN peacekeeping duties offered more than just a relief valve for the deadlock in the Ghana Armed Forces personnel system. Choosing to graft Ghana’s military fortunes onto internationally acceptable military missions, funded by the international community itself, cannily gained access to external sources of cash, justified continued claims for grants in international military training and education from abroad, and provided regular opportunities for officers to lead deployed provisional units that did not require restructuring Ghana’s own military. As Chapter 2 described, the UN required “staff trained” officers to fill high-profile leadership posts in Sinai and Lebanon, which Ghana was keen to fill.119 Between 1974, when the first Ghanaians arrived in Sinai and the late 1980s, Ghanaian battalions of 500 to 700 personnel rotated into the Sinai 115 Army Commander is the equivalent of Chief of Staff. Erskine, Mission with UNIFIL, 1. 116 Baynham, The Military and Politics in Nkrumah’s Ghana, 99. 117 Ibid., 120. 118 See also Hutchful, “Institutional Decomposition and Junior Ranks’ Political Action in Ghana,” 212. 119 Among others, see Unknown, “Message from Secretary General’s Office to Permanent Representative of Ghana to the United Nations; 29 May 1981; Subject: Staff Officer Requirements”; Unknown, “Memorandum from UN Secretary General’s Office to Permanent Mission of Ghana; Subject: UNEF Headquarters Supplemental Personnel; February 1, 1974” (New York, February 1, 1974), AG-20; S-0332 UNEF Subject Files; Box S-0332-007; Folder 6 Ghana 1973-1979, UN ARMS. 306 (until 1979) and Lebanon (after 1979) every six months. Each battalion included a commanding officer and appropriate staff titles that did not need to match duty titles in Ghana. Continuously after February 1974, Ghanaian officers and non-commissioned officers also filled essential posts in UNEF and UNIFIL headquarters.120 When combined with significant financial incentives paid directly to the military members, service with the UN offered tangible benefits to both the Ghanaian state and Ghanaian Armed Forces as an institution within the state. Early in 1974, Ghana’s United Nations delegation led negotiations demanding that all UNEF troop-contributing nations—at that time these included Ghana, Indonesia, Nepal, Panama, Peru, Senegal, Poland, and Canada—should receive the same pay, ending the prior practice of reimbursing “poorer” countries less than “wealthy” ones.121 The UN’s reimbursement rate climbed from roughly US$500 per person per month in 1974 to over $900 per person per month in 1980, of which the Ghanaian government returned approximately half to the individual soldiers.122 This extra pay reached a large number of Ghanaian soldiers and their families. Ghana’s army declined from about 11,000 to 8,000 120 The group of Ghanaians was called a battallion, and are identified sequentially (ie: GHANBATT 2 succeeded GHANBATT 1 in August 1974. These battallion designations are completely unrelated to the Ghana Army’s six infantry battallions. Unknown, “Memorandum from UN Secretary General’s Office to Permanent Mission of Ghana; Subject: UNEF Headquarters Supplemental Personnel; February 1, 1974”; Unknown, “Message from Secretary General’s Office to Permanent Representative of Ghana to the United Nations; 29 May 1981; Subject: Staff Officer Requirements”; Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 155, 331. 121 “Specialists” received extra pay, with limits. Special Committee On Peace-Keeping Operations, “Material On United Nations Observer Missions and Peace-Keeping Forces Authorized by the Security Council,” April 11, 1977, 47, AG-035; S-0531 General Records-Central Registry Finance Series; Box 08; Folder 4, UN ARMS. 122 In nominal US dollars. Unknown, “UNEF Financing: Discussion Paper for Top Staff Meeting; April 17, 1974” (New York, April 17, 1974), AG-31; S-0534 Administrative Files 1948-1987; Box 0448; Folder S-1737-0080, UN ARMS; Special Committee On Peace-Keeping Operations, “Material On United Nations Observer Missions and Peace-Keeping Forces Authorized by the Security Council,” 47; Patricio Ruedas, “Memorandum from Patricio Ruedas, Assistant Sec-Gen for Financial Services to Sec-Gen Waldheim; October 22, 1980; Subject: UNDOF/UNIFIL - Standard Rates of Reimbursement to Troop Contributors for Pay and Allowances of Their Troops” (New York, October 22, 1980), AG-006; S-0899 Peace-Keeping - Middle East; Box S-0899-05; Folder 11: Peacekeeping-UNIFIL-Meetings with Troop Contributors32-007; Folder 6 Ghana 1973-1979, UN ARMS; Unknown, “Message from the Permanent Mission of Ghana to the UN Secretary General; April 14, 1983; Subject: Reimbursement of Claims for Pay and Allowances and Equipment Depreciation” (New York, April 13, 1983), AG- 20; S-0356 UNIFIL Subject Files; Box 11; Folder 7, UN ARMS; Erskine, Mission with UNIFIL, 157; Robert C. R. Siekmann, National Contingents in United Nations Peace-Keeping Forces (Dordrecht: Martinus Nijhoff, 1991), 165. 307 soldiers between the early 1970s and early 1990s, but 31,000 Ghanaians served tours in either the Sinai or Lebanon between 1973 and 1990.123 In September 1975, after Nepal and Panama discontinued their service, Ghana agreed to send an additional 200 troops per six-month rotation, increasing their contingent from 500 to 700.124 Similarly, in 1981 Ghana agreed to boost its UNIFIL contingent from 476 to 650.125 By 1982, Ghana also claimed between US$5.5 million and US$7.5 million per year in equipment reimbursement for its 650-member UNIFIL contingent, nearly half of the Ghana government’s own military budget in 1984.126 Beginning in 1974, the United Nations reimbursed Ghana Airways for delivering Ghanaian personnel and equipment to the Sinai and Lebanon at rates higher than the UN’s normal competitive contracting procedures prescribed.127 Erskine touted UN service as an “immense help to the socio-economic development of the country;” at least it paid for itself. 128 123 31,000 is the total number of deployed persons, not separate individuals. Obviously, many soldiers deployed more than once, and each tour counts toward the total in this tally. Aboagye, The Ghana Army, 119; Most peacekeepers were army personnel, but not all. Addae, History of Ghana Armed Forces: Military Organizations and Regiments, 3:3; 8,862 total Ghanaians served in UNEF; 45,500 served in UNIFIL between 1979 and 2000. Given the steady size of the Ghana detachment, I interpolated that that to roughly 23,000. United Nations Information Center, Ghana: Four Decades of UN and Regional Peacekeeping, 7, 26. 124 Special Committee On Peace-Keeping Operations, “Material On United Nations Observer Missions and Peace- Keeping Forces Authorized by the Security Council,” 41. 125 Unknown, “Message from the Secretary-General to the Permanent Representative of Ghana; Subject: Increasing Size of Ghana Contingent; March 12, 1982” (New York, March 12, 1983), AG-20; S-0356 UNIFIL Subject Files; Box 11; Folder 6, UN ARMS. 126 This is a complicated calculation, using Ghana’s UN missions reimbursement claims from 1980-1982 ($3.1 to $3.9 million), converted into real dollars for the year 2000 to match with the first available military expenditure data for Ghana (1984) in Omitoogun. Unknown, “Message from the Permanent Mission of Ghana to the UN Secretary General; April 14, 1983; Subject: Reimbursement of Claims for Pay and Allowances and Equipment Depreciation”; Wuyi Omitoogun, Military Expenditure Data in Africa: A Survey of Cameroon, Ethiopia, Ghana, Kenya, Nigeria and Uganda, Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) Reports 17 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003), 132; “Inflation Calculator: Bureau of Labor Statistics,” accessed March 5, 2014, http://www.bls.gov/data/inflation_calculator.htm; Hutchful corraborates these numbers, roughly, saying Ghana billed the UN $5.1 million per 6-month rotation in Lebanon, of which $3.5 million went to troops and the government kept $1.6. Hutchful, “Military Policy and Reform in Ghana,” 270. 127 Unknown, “UNEF - I and II Mandates (for the Period 25 October 1973 - 24 October 1974)” (New York, October 1974), AG-31; S-0534 Administrative Files 1948-1987; Box 48; Folder S-1737-80, UN ARMS; Unknown, “Info on UNEF & UNDOF Strength and Rotations,” August 21, 1974, AG-31; S-0534 Administrative Files 1948-1987; Box 48; Folder S-1737-0104, UN ARMS; Brian Urquhart, “Memorandum from Brian Urquhart (Under-Sec-Gen for Special Pol. Affairs) to Alice Weil (Asst Sect-Gen, Office of General Services); November 5, 1984; Subject: Request from the Governmetn of Ghana for the Use of Ghana Airways to Rotate the Ghana Contingent of UNIFIL” (New York, November 5, 1984), AG-20; S-0356 UNIFIL Subject Files; Box 11; Folder 7, UN ARMS; Erskine, Mission with UNIFIL, 157. 128 Embassy of Ghana, “Erskine: Army Must Be Loyal to Govt.,” 5. 308 Just as the Anyidohos and Oduro-Kwartengs had when on professional education courses, Ghanaian soldiers and their families invested their extra pay carefully in ways that insulated them from the Ghanaian state itself. Like other Ghanaians in the post-independence diaspora, building a house became a priority.129 After Steve and Genevieve Oduro-Kwarteng returned to the Ghana Army in 1983, they took a large mortgage and began construction. “I started getting worried that at that stage I did not have even a building plot, let alone a building anywhere for use after retirement or particularly in case of emergency,” Steve Oduro-Kwarteng wrote.130 After peacekeeping deployments in 1986, 1988, 1989, and 1992, they had repaid the mortgage.131 “Imagine a second lieutenant,” suggested retired Colonel Michael Abana. “He goes to spend six months. He doesn’t buy anything. He brings all the money, maybe $2000 or $3000. What is he going to do with it? He knows the difficulties in our country. So he will buy a plot of land. And the next time he goes, and he comes back, he will start building a house. So that by the time he becomes a captain, if he doesn’t make it [the promotion], he is finished building his house.”132 After that, he supposed, “if you realize that the Armed Forces won’t take you any more, you can simply go and resign . . . because of your experience as a military man, you may even get a job.”133 One former Chief of Defense Staff suggested that disappointment with military involvement in politics convinced many Ghanaian officers to quit the armed forces altogether and used their UN allowances to begin businesses.134 Soldiers and their families employed their UN allowances to acquire household goods unavailable in Ghana. The Army Chief of Staff even commanded them to “spend the extra 129 Manu, “‘Efie’ or the Meanings of ‘Home’ Among Female and Male Ghanaian Migrants in Toronto, Canada and Returned Migrants to Ghana,” 142; Akyeampong, “Africans in the Diaspora,” 207; See also Mann, Native Sons, 177. 130 Oduro-Kwarteng, The Memoirs of a Colonel Retired, 52. 131 Ibid., 52–61. 132 Abana, Interview with Col Abana. 133 Ibid. 134 Adjei, Interview with Lt Gen Adjei. 309 allowance they would get wisely and return home with enough money to be put in their respective ventures.”135 Lieutenant Oduro-Kwarteng’s comrades returned from the Sinai in 1975 with “radio tape recorders, radiograms, black-and-white televisions and tabletop fridges among others, purchased mainly from the Egyptian market.”136 In 1977, the Ghanaian contingent returned from Egypt with a large number of sewing machines.137 From Lebanon, Ghanaian shipping and import companies facilitated soldiers’ shipments of home appliances, corn mills, generators, roofing sheets, and ceramic floor tile-making machines.138 “For every participation in UN peacekeeping operations,” Oduro-Kwarteng wrote, “while some of us were showing interest in acquisition of various types and models of home appliance, a few individuals were interested in saving their allowances for investment in home projects or purchasing commercial items for business.”139 In 2012, retired Colonel Abana considered that in Ghana’s dismal domestic economy, the ability to purchase refrigerators and other “essential things” made UN service so lucrative that he thought no Ghanaian soldier would ever again attempt to overthrow the government and risk Ghana’s exclusion from future UN service, although Flight Lieutenant Rawlings was not deterred in 1979.140 Just as access to international travel unhinged traditional regional and ethnic prejudices against military service, access to external sources of cash also helped destabilize stereotype of the armed forces as a lower class occupation. As they did elsewhere in Africa, competing regional, family, ideological, religious, and ethnic identities often subsumed class identities in 135 Unknown, “2BN Off 3BN In,” Ghana Armed Forces News, July 15, 1975, 8, GAF DPR. 136 Similar items described in Oduro-Kwarteng, The Memoirs of a Colonel Retired, 34; K. Oteng, “Memorandum from Lt. Col. K. Oteng to Jan G. Schumacher; March 7, 1977; Subject: Allegations against Ghanaian Troops,” March 7, 1977, AG-035; S-1786 Office Office the Force Commander - General Records 1973 - 1979; Box S-0531- 0070; Folders S-1786-0009 Balttallions and Units - Ghanbatt, UN ARMS. 137 Oteng, “Memorandum from Lt. Col. K. Oteng to Jan G. Schumacher; March 7, 1977; Subject: Allegations against Ghanaian Troops.” 138 Oduro-Kwarteng, The Memoirs of a Colonel Retired, 61. Although it is tantalizing to imagine that the large Lebanese diaspora in Ghana facilitated these transactions, I found no evidence for it. 139 Ibid. 140 Abana, Interview with Col Abana. 310 postcolonial Ghana.141 Within the Ghanaian military and between the military and the rest of Ghanaian society, those identities competed vigorously, as the ongoing struggle over the abongo stereotype reveals.142 In a 1969 letter, a reader who identified himself as “Abongo Boy” complained to the Armed Forces Magazine that both on-post and off-post elementary schools discriminated against the children of soldiers.143 He appropriated the title abongo to file a grievance against class-based discrimination. In 1975, another letter complained about Ghanaian soldiers—“Real abongo boys”—cheering against the Armed Forces’ own soccer team during matches.144 In this case, the letter writer employed the full vitriol of the term to demean soldiers’ lack of solidarity—as if the “new” Ghanaian soldier should rise above the stereotype of soldiers as ignorant yokels with no prospects or loyalty. Also in 1975, however, Lieutenant Makana’s Fanara Diary described “private Abongo’s” lesson in world economics and national pride when he realized the Ghanaian Cedi and the U.S. Dollar were both “paper.” Although the stereotype persisted somewhat, by the mid-1990s, Stephen Kojo Addae wrote, Ghana’s Army barracks “portrayed a lower middle class citizenry, thanks to the many international UN peacekeeping operations that take Ghanaian service personnel to missions all over the world.”145 Just as American sponsor families around Fort Leavenworth had demonstrated, for Ghanaian soldiers the international aspect of military service helped weaken both hard economic class boundaries and soft cultural ones defining military service. 141 Chazan, An Anatomy of Ghanaian Politics, 6; Cooper, “The Dialectics of Decolonization: Nationalism and Labor Movements in Postwar French Africa,” 407–414, 426; Killingray, “Imagined Martial Communities: Recruiting for the Military and Police in Colonial Ghana, 1860-1960,” 119; Baynham, “Introduction: Armed Forces in Africa,” 7; Mann, Native Sons, 4. 142 Hutchful, “Institutional Decomposition and Junior Ranks’ Political Action in Ghana,” 251; Austin and Luckham, Politicians and Soldiers in Ghana, 1966-1972. 143 Abongo Boy, “School Admissions,” Ghana Armed Forces Magazine, October 1969, 3, Bibliothek der Friedrich- Ebert-Stiftung, Bonn, Germany. 144 Prince Osae-Djan, “Give Them Moral Support,” Ghana Armed Forces News, February 15, 1975, 2. 145 Addae, A Short History of Ghana Armed Forces, 142; Addae, History of Ghana Armed Forces: Military Organizations and Regiments, 3:25. 311 Service with the UN provided Ghanaian families with cash and access to household goods, but time apart required wives on the home front to adapt to new social and economic conditions that mimicked older struggles over authority in Ghanaian family life.146 Across Africa after World War II, European colonial powers imagined that creating reliable “industrial citizens” required changing prior ideas about work, mobility, property, and family.147 “Industrial man had a wife,” Frederick Cooper writes, and although colonial officials used “masculine pronouns” to describe the transformation to modernity they intended, they directed their efforts at women.148 “Unless they joined their men–and lived off the men's wages,” Cooper argues, women “were the epitome of tribal life and retarding influence.”149 British colonial armies exemplified the process of “detribalizing” male soldiers and their wives, introducing rigid regulations restricting soldiers’ marriage, living arrangements, and hygiene in order minimize desertion, maximize discipline, and reproduce future generations of soldiers.150 Those regulations largely softened in the Ghana Armed Forces, but the Armed Forces News still acknowledged that becoming an “army wife” was a process of psychological transformation.151 Being an “army wife” required a new identity: “You may say she is a bigamist—sharing [her] husband with a demanding other entity called ‘duty,’” Captain K. Adu-Bediaku wrote in the Ghana Armed Forces Magazine in 1968.152 “When ‘duty’ calls, she becomes the No. 2 wife—and until she accepts this fact, her life can be miserable.”153 The Armed Forces News described the transformation of Ghanaian women into “army wives” in terms that echo the 146 The first female Ghanaian peacekeeper served in Lebanon in 1985. Owusu, “The Lone GHANBATT Lady,” 5. 147 Cooper, “Industrial Man Goes to Africa,” 130. 148 Ibid., 128. 149 Ibid., 131. 150 Parsons, The African Rank-and-File, 145–153; See also Echenberg, Colonial Conscripts, 121. 151 Comfort Akwagyiram, “Life of Army Wife with Hubby Away,” Ghana Armed Forces News, September 15, 1976, 10, GAF DPR. Cooper, “Industrial Man Goes to Africa,” 130. 152 K. Adu-Bediaku, “The Wife in a Military World,” The Ghana Armed Forces Magazine, June 1968, 21, Bibliothek der Friedrich-Ebert-Stiftung, Bonn, Germany; Akwagyiram, “Life of Army Wife with Hubby Away,” 10. 153 Adu-Bediaku, “The Wife in a Military World,” 21. 312 contradiction between military-imposed modernity and Ghanaian family traditions from the colonial era. American modernization theorists of the 1960s considered extended families—and the financial obligations they entailed—“traditional” and “obstacles” to modernization.156 Calling on military wives to embrace “No. 2” wife status as a precondition for marital happiness seemed to contradict that aspect of the psychological transformation to modernity. Presumably, being “married to the military” is a common expression for “army wives” around the world, but to call her “No. 2 wife” stings in a special way for Ghanaian women.157 The emotional transformation required—and its reward of escaping misery—was both distinctly African and universal to the “modern” military family. The Army wife Adu-Bediaku described defied easy classification. “An Army wife is international,” he wrote.158 She was equally comfortable in the city or the country, and transcended ethnicity. “She may be an Akim farm girl, a Ga fishmonger, a Kwahu trader or an Army Nursing Sister. When discussing their Army problems, [wives] speak the same language.”159 This description sounded more national than international, as if military spouses transcended regional or ethnic divisions, and Adu-Bediaku proclaimed such a Ghanaian identity for military spouses. But the identity he described is both smaller and larger than that. He called it “international,” but it was also mobile. “She can be a great actress, watching her children’s heartbreak at posting time, she gives an Academy Award performance: ‘Takoradi is going to be such fun,’ ‘I hear they have a beautiful Amenity Center with all sorts of games;’ ‘Farm products and fish are comparatively cheaper . . . .’ but her heart is breaking with theirs, and she wonders if this Army life is worth the sacrifice. One day later, en route to the new station, and filled with a 156 Gilman, Mandarins of the Future, 183. 157 See, for example, Mariama Bâ, So Long a Letter, African Writers Series 248 (London: Heinemann, 1989). 158 Adu-Bediaku, “The Wife in a Military World,” 20. 159 Ibid. 313 spirit of adventures, she knows it is.”160 Adu-Bediaku connected the Ghanaian family to an imagined universal military community that moved freely within and without national borders. As military families often relocated within Ghana—and occasionally around the world—the sub- national family identity and the supra-national military identity sometimes eclipsed regional or national ones. Adu-Bediaku intended his article to celebrate army wives’ selflessness warmly, not as a treatise on the militarization of Ghanaian family life, but he also claimed for Ghanaian wives equal participation in the supposedly universal characteristics of army wives around the world, using local idioms to drive home his point. Women on Ghanaian army bases had always performed unofficial and official domestic duties in camp administration, and they had established support structures even in their spouses’ absence. As we have already seen, both women and men routinely supplemented family incomes by farming, cooking, or performing other domestic jobs.161 Inherited from the Royal West African Frontier Force, the Sakari Magazia system promoted influential non-commissioned officers’ wives in each military unit with the title Magazia, or “Woman Leader” in Hausa.162 Typically, the Magazias supervised sanitation around barracks buildings and disciplined wives and families of enlisted personnel around the barracks. They wore sergeant’s rank, accompanied inspecting officers around the camps, and were “so respected and so powerful that any soldier who cross[ed] her could get demoted from his rank to something lower, or fined heavily.”163 During the 1970s, Magazias from each Company and a senior Magazia from each Battalion 160 Ibid., 20–21. 161 Addae, History of Ghana Armed Forces: Military Organizations and Regiments, 3:26. 162 A remnant of the days when the British primarily employed Hausa men as the preferred “martial race” for the RWAFF. Ibid., 3:37; Killingray, “Imagined Martial Communities: Recruiting for the Military and Police in Colonial Ghana, 1860-1960”; See also Parsons, The African Rank-and-File, 53; Echenberg, Colonial Conscripts, 14; In the “Armed Forces News,” the spelling is “Magajia.” Akwagyiram, “Life of Army Wife with Hubby Away,” 10. 163 Addae, History of Ghana Armed Forces: Military Organizations and Regiments, 3:27, 38. 314 became advocates on behalf of wives to the larger command and administered the Army Wives Association and Armed Forces Wives Association.164 The Ghana Army imagined that women took the opportunity to improve themselves in their husbands’ absence on peacekeeping deployments. Instead of normal sanitation duties, “besieging” the Paymaster’s office, or “the traditional busy cooking around half-past one,” the AF News’ Comfort Akwagyiram observed in 1976, “few wives are engaged in this ‘Abongo wife’s role.’”165 Instead, wives’ organizations organized sewing, cooking, and literacy classes.166 Under the “2nd Infantry Battalion in Action” headline ran the lead: “The Women at Home and the Men on the Beat” in the Sinai.167 Beneath a photo of Ghanaian women studying dutifully at school desks a caption read, “I would not be surprised if you find your wives writing your letters on your return home.”168 Beneath one of a dozen women cooking: “How happy would the husbands become if they return home to discover that their wives have acquired skills to prepare various dishes.”169 To Lydia Baafi, wife of the commander of then-current Ghanaian UNEF II detachment and “Chairman of the Wives’ Club” in 1976, life for army wives whose husbands had deployed was considerably busier than usual. She had organized “basketball, netball, and athletics” for the other wives, but also “classes in cookery, beadwork, needlework, [and] tie and dye.”170 “We try as much as possible to depend on some of the wives who are experts in their various fields,” Baafi told the AF News’ Comfort Akwagyiram. “For instance, the nurses among us once in a while organize lectures on child-care.”171 164 Ibid., 3:39. 165 Akwagyiram, “Life of Army Wife with Hubby Away,” 10. 166 Unknown, “2 BN in Action: The Women at Home and the Men on the Beat,” Ghana Armed Forces News, December 15, 1975, 4, 8, GAF DPR. 167 Unknown, “2 BN in Action: The Women at Home and the Men on the Beat.” 168 Ibid., 4. 169 Ibid. 170 Akwagyiram, “Life of Army Wife with Hubby Away,” 10. 171 Ibid. 315 Peacekeepers’ wives used the deployments to access formal education and build supporting relationships with other families, and former domestic roles changed as women became more independent, but they did not change much. Even while celebrating the possibility that an Army wife might become an excellent, literate chef, the AF News suggests that these new skills primarily made her a more supportive wife—able to please her husband with love letters when he was away and with dinner when he returned. By promoting these small educational initiatives for wives of deployed soldiers and distinguishing them from typical “Abongo’s wife’s roles” of communal cooking, sweeping, and waiting for pay, the Ghana Armed Forces’ official news magazine equated the deployment with an occasion for wives’ transformation.172 They became more educated, more independent, and less connected to regional or ethnic identities. Becoming a peacekeeper’s wife was another step beyond the “Army wife” on continuum that ended with modernity. Some of the same colonial tactics of reshaping African women’s expectations for work, family, and property in order to modify the (male) African labor force into modern citizens continued in Ghana’s armed forces even after independence.173 Especially in British colonial armies, processes for creating reliable colonial soldiers mirrored those colonial powers pioneered for creating industrial citizens.174 Hygiene inspections, home inspections, and officially registering wives were all part of the European program of “detribalization.”175 Around British 172 Ibid. 173 Cooper, “Industrial Man Goes to Africa,” 131; Dipesh Chakrabarty, “The Difference-Deferral of a Colonial Modernity,” in Tensions of Empire: Colonial Cultures in a Bourgeois World, ed. Frederick Cooper and Ann Laura Stoler (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1997), 378; Anna Davin, “Imperialism and Motherhood,” in Tensions of Empire: Colonial Cultures in a Bourgeois World, ed. Frederick Cooper and Ann Laura Stoler (Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 1997), 87–151. 174 Cooper, “Industrial Man Goes to Africa,” 130; Parsons, The African Rank-and-File, 152; Mann, Native Sons, 178; Kevin K. Brown, “The Military and Social Change in Colonial Tanganyika: 1919--1964” (Ph.D., Michigan State University, 2001), 150; Among “conscripted” African men in French armies, military service destabilized marriage patterns for different reasons, usually because so many men fled their homes to avoid military service or because military service took them from their homes. Echenberg, Colonial Conscripts, 84. 175 Cooper, “Industrial Man Goes to Africa,” 131; Parsons, The African Rank-and-File, 146. 316 colonial army posts, young African women adopted the clothing, hairstyles, perfumes, and cosmetics linked to Western conceptions of “femininity.”176 Even after independence, Ghanaian soldiers required their commanding officer’s permission to marry; Henry Anyidoho recalled his pride after his commander complimented Mercy as “a good choice.”177 The Ghana Military Academy closely scrutinized cadets’ courtship behavior in the 1960s and 1970s. “As a gentleman officer-to-be, one was expected to know how to handle the lady partner,” Stephen Oduro- Kwarteng remembered.178 “The officer cadet was watched as to how he handled or treated his partner” and “We were told that it was the pride of any unit commander to have his young officer call on him to introduce his wife as the lady who had been his girlfriend while he was at GMA [the Ghana Military Academy].”179 The Ghana Army regulated enlisted soldiers’ marriages as well, reminding service members in 1975, for example, that they should register all their wives with the service to permit them to enter and live in the barracks—even though only one wife was entitled “free medical care in military Hospitals.”180 In the era after independence, however, Ghanaians—both elites and ordinary citizens— also seized the rhetoric of modernity to made demands against their own states and against the international community. For Africans, Frederick Cooper argues, modernity had concrete meanings, including “health facilities, education, decent pensions, opportunity to sell one’s crops and obtain useful commodities from elsewhere.”181 For them, modernity was a policy as much as a theory, and the language of modernization gave them a basis for asserting claims: “if you think we should be modern, help us find the means.”182 Criteria for what constituted a modern, 176 Parsons, The African Rank-and-File, 152. 177 Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step, 52; Mann, Native Sons, 178; Oduro-Kwarteng, The Memoirs of a Colonel Retired, 17–18; Parsons, The African Rank-and-File, 152–162. 178 Oduro-Kwarteng, The Memoirs of a Colonel Retired, 17. 179 Ibid. 180 Unknown, “Comds To Register All Wives,” Ghana Armed Forces News, April 15, 1975, 8. 181 Cooper, Colonialism in Question, 131. 182 Ibid. 317 successful home reached Ghanaian soldiers and their wives women through extensive international travel on courses abroad—like the “American Language Course”—and through regular cycles of UN service alongside military members from around the world. The AF News also reinforced those standards, for example, celebrating the “international army wife,” encouraging wives to take reading or cooking lessons, or reprinting the Chief of Staff’s exhortation to deploying soldiers to invest their money carefully in their “respective ventures.” Ghanaian military families seized the prescriptive rhetoric of the modern military to assert such claims for pay, benefits, and housing.183 In order for a Ghanaian woman to become the “international” army wife the AF News praised—that is, an independent mother living in isolation from her extended family—she required specific tools: A sewing machine to prepare and mend garments by herself, and from home; a refrigerator to enable her live farther away from the community and shop less often. UN service helped purchase tape players, radios, and television sets from abroad that joined military families to new and less communal modes of domestic entertainment. Ghanaian soldiers abroad carefully saved their money to apply their family strategies, acquired paving machines and roof tiles, for example, to accommodate new standards for the nuclear family living in detached quarters. Training courses and UN service abroad provided the opportunity demonstrate new norms for domestic wealth and insulate them from capricious national military budgets. Through the homes they built, household appliances they acquired, and new, mobile identities military service celebrated, Ghanaian military families both labored under external standards modernity and shouldered them. New modes of living around Army posts demanded new household appliances, but Ghanaian men and women also cooperated to leverage their international military service into acquiring those new markers of domestic success. 183 For other examples of the same process, see: Cooper, “Industrial Man Goes to Africa,” 135. 318 The small changes in education and outlook also reinforced their disconnection with former domestic roles, especially given the genuine difficulty of separation. Unfortunately, we have only a few bits of historical evidence recording peacekeepers’ wives own words on that subject. In September 1974, describing a recent picnic for the families of deployed soldiers, the AF News quoted several of their letters:184 “Almighty God,” wrote the Battalion Magazia Abiba Belu, “give Lt-Col Nyame [the detachment commander] patience, sympathy and encouragement . . . We know the life is not an easy one there, but with your dynamism and fortitude all will be fine. If they keep on drinking because of the difficulties, please convince them to stop.” To her husband, she wrote: “We pray always for your well-being. Live in peace and work harder for promotion.” Abla Gadzo Abordo reassured her husband Raphael, “My pregnancy is not troubling me. Pray for me to deliver a bouncing baby boy for you to become a soldier like you.” Esi Boridziwor Okine gave her husband wonderful news: “I’ve given birth to a beautiful baby girl for you this month. She has taken your pointed nose.” Stephen Menu also had good news for his father Akwai, “Your big cat has delivered three kittens and the rabbit too has had five.” Ofori Mensa told his dad, “Papa, I pray that nothing will happen on you at that place.” Not all wives or children were so enthusiastic. “That day you left me, it made me sick. I couldn’t eat the next day,” wrote Beatrice Mamle Cudjoe to her husband. “David, at times I feel so lonely that I find it difficult to sleep.” “I feel miserable without you,” wrote Faustina Amegbletor to her husband John. “Don’t let anybody deceive you to do bad things,” wrote Cicilia Arkason to her husband Michael. 184 Pte David Gamor, “Sentimental Journey,” Ghana Armed Forces News, September 1, 1974, 4, GAF DPR. 319 “We want to read from you,” Mary Boatemaa begged her father Micheal Atta. “People are showing off with letters from their husbands.” Finally, Deborah Ketor reassured her husband John, “When you are worried sing ‘Across the Bridge’ by Jim Reeves.” “Comrades,” a sergeant from the Rear Party reassured them, “all is well and groovy. Your wives are always happy. Don’t be disturbed at all. Work hard to come back as worthy ambassadors.”185 These family reflections were both typical and unique. Private David Gamor, correspondent for the AF News, supposed that “these feelings expressed by the wives and daughters of the soldiers serving in the Middle-East could come from anybody at anytime who finds himself in the same situation.”186 Every family similarly separated in the diaspora would recognize their sorrow, heartache, and fear. In this case, though, specific circumstances of international military service distinguished this separation from others. They prepared and shared their letters at an Army-sponsored picnic; even at their most intimate, the messages passed through Army hands with Army approval. Wives prayed for their husbands’ safety, but also that they would serve honorably within the Army in order to merit promotion. They lamented their separation, but some still prayed for their sons to become soldiers as well—as if willing their own separation on to future generations. On the other hand, identifying Jim Reeves as the preferred method of consoling a lonely husband is as good an indication of a transnational identity as any. Even the article’s title—“Sentimental Journey”—evoked Ghana’s heroic participation in Burma during World War II.187 They recognized that their husbands and fathers were in danger, but they also acknowledged that their families’ sacrifices were, on some level, 185 Ibid. 186 Ibid. 187 On music and the memory of war, see Philip D. Beidler, The Good War’s Greatest Hits: World War II and American Remembering (Athens, GA: University of Georgia, 1998). 320 connected to a larger project of international peace.188 Unique political and economic conditions characterize all diasporic communities; in this case, Ghana’s service with the United Nations shaped this one. Continually since 1973, hundreds of Ghanaian soldiers deployed to the Middle East on seven-month peacekeeping missions. This section briefly explored the national and corporate incentives that convinced Ghanaian military leaders to pursue and sustain these missions in order to contrast the ways individual service members and their families understood their deployments. UN reimbursements provided millions of dollars to Ghana’s struggling economy in the 1970s and 1980s and subsidized the Armed Forces’ training and equipment beyond what the Ghanaian government could afford. Serving alongside soldiers from around the world made Ghanaian soldiers “more aware of international norms for the treatment of soldiers,” and their meritorious service became a source of national pride.189 For Ghanaian families, UN service offered pay and material rewards that few other Ghanaians could access during that time. Soldiers’ families built houses, furnished their homes with refrigerators and radios, started businesses, and supplemented their income selling scarce household goods and appliances. International military service imposed new domestic standards on soldiers’ families, but soldiers’ families also employed that service to fashion their own responses. These economic opportunities came at a cost: lengthy separations. Ghanaian soldiers’ wives associations mitigated their sense of isolation with programs building both personal independence and solidarity with other wives. They often displayed 188 Katharine Gravino describes a similar process occurring within wives of American soldiers participating in UN peacekeeping operations in the early 1990s. Katharine Swift Gravino, David R. Segal, and Mady Wechsler Segal, “Lightfighters’ Wives,” in Peacekeepers and Their Wives: American Participation in the Multinational Force and Observers, ed. David R. Segal and Mady Wechsler Segal, Contributions in Military Studies, no. 147 (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1993), 147, 155. 189 Hutchful, “Military Policy and Reform in Ghana,” 253, 270. 321 variously local and international identities that connected military families to one another regardless of regional or ethnic background, privileging global norms of military service that transcended national identities. They expressed their loneliness and anxiety from their separations in typical ways, but the specific reason for their separation was very different from other cases of labor migration in the post-independence African diaspora. It is to that mission, its danger and Ghanaian families’ understanding of the emotional significance of being “peacemakers” that we turn next. Writing for Peace As we have seen, both leaders and ordinary members of the Ghana Armed Forces used combinations of local, national, and international reference points to explain their decisions to join the army and evaluate military service’s benefits for their families’ lives. Since independence, Ghana’s government and Ghanaian military leaders aggressively pursued education and training opportunities abroad, partly because Ghana lacked the capacity to provide advanced training on its own, partly to maximize the amount of military assistance it received. Service members themselves also roundly appreciated the experience of international education. When preparing his massive history of the Ghana Armed Forces, Stephen Kojo Addae recalled, “This author has been told again and again, by retired officers trained in the UK, the salutary experience of training with men from all over the world.”190 After retiring from the Army as a Major General, Henry Anyidoho believed, “one of the greatest benefits I got from the Army was the acquisition of knowledge. I received training from all sorts of institutions, locally and overseas.”191 International education was common for Ghanaian soldiers, especially officers, and 190 Addae, History of Ghana Armed Forces: Military Organizations and Regiments, 3:91. 191 Anyidoho, My Journey . . . Every Step, 128. 322 they routinely praised the experience as educational, inspirational, and enjoyable. It sometimes offered safety from both physical and economic danger, as we have seen. Compared to international education, UN service offered similar financial incentives, but was more dangerous and affected far more Ghanaians. As many Ghanaians soldiers served as peacekeepers in UNIFIL in one six-month rotation in the 1983 than all the IMET-sponsored students at American training facilities in thirty years between 1960 and 1990.192 Service with the United Nations offered neither comfort nor safety—six Ghanaian soldiers died in the Sinai between 1973 and 1979; twenty-two died in Lebanon between 1979 and 2000.193 In their descriptions of their UN service, however, Ghanaians expressed solidarity with a global military ethos that surpassed Ghanaian regional differences, celebrated Ghana’s global leadership in the international order the UN represented, reinforced Ghanaian Pan-Africanism, and offered psychic rewards to individuals as “peacemakers” that transcended ethnic, national, or pan- African identities.194 Just as Ghanaian students had when on courses abroad, individual Ghanaians serving with the United Nations expressed a form of transnational solidarity only accessible through service in a global military endeavor, Military Internationalism. As Kwame Nkrumah had in the early 1960s, Ghanaian political elites in the 1970s and 1980s—civilian and military—considered the United Nations essential for Africa’s political and economic improvement, Ghana’s included. Participating as equals in the UN General Assembly empowered all newly decolonized states, Ghanaians above all, even when Cold War powers 192 620 students; 690 in Ghanbatt 19 (Fall 1982-Summer 1983). United States Defense Security Assistance Agency, Congressional Presentation; Security Assistance Programs FY 1981, 510; Manolas and Samelson, “The IMET Program: Report to Congress,” 35; Unknown, “Message from the Permanent Mission of Ghana to the UN Secretary General; August 9, 1983; Subject: Reimbursement for Specialists of GHANBATT” (New York, August 9, 1983), AG-20; S-0356 UNIFIL Subject Files; Box 11; Folder 7, UN ARMS. 193 United Nations Information Center, Ghana: Four Decades of UN and Regional Peacekeeping, 26–27. 194 Charles Moskos uses the term “supra nationalism” to indicate the specific version of internationalism UN soldiers in Cyprus reflected. Charles C. Moskos, Peace Soldiers: The Sociology of a United Nations Military Force (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1976), 106. 323 attempted to thwart their collective will.195 African nationalism “was of little consequence” to the United Nations in 1945, Kwame Nkrumah wrote in 1970. “Since then, however, so many former colonies have achieved independence that Afro-Asian countries now form the most influential single group within the United Nations.”196 William Ofori-Atta, Ghana’s Minister of Education, reminded participants at the African Regional Symposium on Disarmament and Development in July 1970, “The new nations of Africa and Asia are the most ardent supporters of the United Nations and also the strongest advocates of a world order.”197 Ghana’s Secretary for Trade Kofi Djin expressed the same belief at a flag-raising ceremony in Accra celebrating the UN’s fortieth anniversary in 1985. “There could be no alternative to the UN,” he said, “to which small nations like Ghana would continue to look [and] use as a forum to discuss and exchange views on issues that affect the global peace.”198 Ghana’s ambassadors acceded with delight to Secretary-General Waldheim’s requests to reaffirm Ghana’s participation in each UNEF and UNIFIL mandate as the Security Council renewed them—roughly every six to ten months.199 Ghana’s government accepted the Secretary- General’s request to increase its UNEF detachment in 1975 and again in 1976 when Brian Urquhart, Undersecretary General for Special Political Affairs, struggled to find another African state to replace the withdrawing Senegalese, Nepalese and Panamanian contingents.200 The 195 See, for example, Irwin, Gordian Knot; Ali A. Mazrui and Michael Tidy, Nationalism and New States in Africa: From about 1935 to the Present (London: Heinemann, 1984), 370–372; See also Westad, The Global Cold War; Borstelmann, Apartheid’s Reluctant Uncle; Ninkovich, The Wilsonian Century, 287. 196 Nkrumah, Africa Must Unite, 194. 197 Qtd in Arkhurst, Arms and African Development: Proceedings of the First Pan-African Citizens’ Conference, ix. For more on this conference, see Chapter 2. 198 Embassy of Ghana, Ghana News, Vol 14 No 12 1985 (Washington, DC: Embassy of Ghana, December 1985), 1. 199 Ghana’s ambassadors repeated this sentiment at monthly “troop contributors” meetings. See, for example, Unknown, “Meeting With Countries Contributing Contingents to UNIFIL; October 12, 1982,” October 12, 1982, AG-20; AG 020-001 Brian Urquhart, Under Secretary General of the UN for Special Political Affairs (1971-1985); Box S-1066-0057; Folder 1, UN ARMS; Special Committee On Peace-Keeping Operations, “Material On United Nations Observer Missions and Peace-Keeping Forces Authorized by the Security Council,” 7. 200 Brian Urquhart, “Outgoing Code Cable from Urquhart to Siilasvuo; November 24, 1975; Subject: Additional Rifle Company” (New York, November 24, 1975), AG-31; S-0534 Administrative Files 1948-1987; Box 467; Folder S-1737-0171, UN ARMS; Special Committee On Peace-Keeping Operations, “Material On United Nations Observer Missions and Peace-Keeping Forces Authorized by the Security Council,” 41; Kurt Waldheim, “Message 324 Secretary-General requested that Ghana maintain its full contingent of 595 even when the rest of the UNEF II force shrunk from 4895 to 4215 in 1977.201 He requested an additional 180 Ghanaians to join UNIFIL in Lebanon in 1983, and Ghana’s contingent there grew from 400 to nearly 600.202 As with all other requests to extend the UN mission’s mandate, Ghana’s ambassador pledged, “Ghana would continue its contribution for as long as called for.”203 Officially, Ghanaians considered their participation in UN peacekeeping a great global compliment, and imagined vast benefits to flow from it. “It is common knowledge that in any belligerency, especially between two people or nations, one needs a neutral person or nation to stand in between the two parties in order to bring peace,” the AF News reported in 1976.204 “It is needless to say that such a person or nation need be peace-loving. Thus when the Ghana Armed Forces and, for that matter Ghana, was invited to take part in the peacekeeping operations in the Middle East in 1974, the obvious was implied.”205 “I think the whole Middle East problem rests on the shoulders of the Ghana contingent,” said the contingent commander, Lieutenant Colonel Kwame Baafi, 1976.206 Victor Ansah, correspondent for the AF News, argued that helping re- open the Suez Canal, Ghana served “world humanity and civilization” and benefitted Ghana and the entire world by helping lower oil prices.207 from Kurt Waldheim (Sec-Gen) to Jomo Kenyatta (President of Kenya); March 18, 1974; Subject: Kenyan Contingent to UNEF II,” March 18, 1976, AG-20; Box S-1066-0006; Folder 11, UN ARMS. 201 Kurt Waldheim, “Memorandum from Secretary-General to Permanent Representative of Ghana; November 1, 1977; Subject: Ghana Contingent to UNEF II” (New York, November 1, 1977), AG-20; S-0332 UNEF Subject Files; Box S-0332-007; Folder 6, UN ARMS. 202 Unknown, “Message from Secretary General’s Office to Permanent Representative of Ghana to the United Nations; 24 June 1981; Subject: Size of Ghana Contingent for UNIFIL” (New York, June 24, 1981), AG-20; S-0356 UNIFIL Subject Files; Box 11; Folder 6, UN ARMS; Unknown, “Message from the Secretary-General to the Permanent Representative of Ghana; Subject: Increasing Size of Ghana Contingent; March 12, 1982.” 203 Unknown, “Meeting With Countries Contributing Contingents to UNIFIL; October 12, 1982.” 204 Our Special Correspondent, “‘Two Better’ Takes On Tough Job,” Ghana Armed Forces News, March 15, 1976, 4. 205 Ibid. 206 Ibid. 207 Capt. Victor Ansah, “The Suez Canal Story,” Ghana Armed Forces News, May 15, 1975, 5, GAF DPR. 325 AF News correspondents and contributors to the UN’s peacekeeping journals emphasized Ghanaians’ equal participation in the peacekeeping “melting pot.” Captain John Amissah wrote in Litani, UNIFIL’s monthly news bulletin, “The different members of the organization, with their varied sociocultural backgrounds, entails regarding the UN, and for that matter its peacekeeping offspring UNIFIL, as a ‘melting pot’—a common ground for the blending of ideas and cultures for the salvation of mankind.”208 “No individuals or nations,” he warned, “should do anything to derail the UN ideal, otherwise they would be adding more fuel to the fire to explode the ‘globe’.”209 Military police from Fiji, Finland, France, Ghana, Ireland, and Norway might “vary in their religious beliefs, language, race, culture, and even in their military training and equipment,” Amissah wrote from Lebanon, but with “mutual understanding and cooperation,” all desired “fostering greater brotherhood among the different nationals.”210 Lieutenant Makana Blay recalled the advice his commanding officer—“that good old ‘Osofo’”—gave as he departed for Sinai in 1975: “We should be good ambassadors whilst in the Middle East because we are ‘citizens of no mean country.’”211 “Our men can talk face-to-face with other nationals without any feeling of inferiority complex,” said Blay. “They know that they are and can be as efficient as any other soldier from any part of the world.”212 The AF News reprinted internationally- obtained compliments with pride. From UNEF Chief of Staff and Indonesian Brigadier General Rais Abin: “I am profoundly impressed with the Ghanaian soldiers.”213 A Canadian colleague: Ghanaian soldiers’ “ready smile is inspiring for all of us and very good for high morale.”214 A Nigerian diplomat: “Our brothers serving with UNEF have a high sense of dedication to duty, 208 John S. K. Amissah, “UNIFIL- A Melting Pot,” Litani: UNIFIL News, March 1985, 5, AG-20; S-1078 Personal Files; Box S-1078-0089; Folder 5 - Litani - UNIFIL News Jan-Jun 1985, UN ARMS. 209 Ibid. 210 Ibid., 4–5. 211 Osofo as an alternate spelling of Asofo, the traditional Akan warrior class. Blay, “From Makana’s Fanara Diary,” 36. 212 Ibid. 213 Unknown, “Glowing Tribute for Ghanbatt 5,” Ghana Armed Forces News, September 15, 1976, 11. 214 Unknown, “Ray of Hope from ‘Sunrise,’” Ghana Armed Forces News, September 15, 1976, 10, GAF DPR. 326 but above all they keep their national consciousness and work hard to put Ghana on the world map.”215 For the editors of the Armed Forces News, equal status among deployed forces reinforced Ghanaian nationalism. Peacekeeping seemed to cement Ghanaian soldiers’ national identity, or at least the Ghanaian government attempted to subsume regional or ethnic differences into a larger, unified Ghanaian culture and present it for international consumption. At the Medal Day ceremony in 1985, as one detachment of Ghanaians received their UN service medals and prepared to return to Ghana, the contingent staged an elaborate demonstration of music, clothing, dance, and ceremony by small groups claiming to represent Ghana’s largest ethnic subdivisions. “Like other ethnic groups of Ghana, the Ewes have reverence for their ancestors and cultural values,” Stephen Owusu wrote in Litani.216 A group of Ewe, “adorned in various paraphernalia” and “depicting a chief and his elders” demonstrated a typical “festival scene” in an Ewe kingdom.217 Next, a group of Ga men “offered another rich aspect of Ghanaian culture in the form of the Kpanlogo dance which was so popular among Ghanaian youth in the late ‘70s.”218 Finally, a soldier dressed as an Akan chief. “He wears a headgear and sandals plaited in solid gold. The gold trinkets around his neck and wrists weigh the hand so much that the hand has to be supported by a servant before a handshake.”219 In photos, the Chief and his retinue, arrayed in Kente cloth and gold, “dance to the ‘Adowa’ tune,” while a “‘Fetish Priest’ evoking his spirits” purifies the ceremony.220 To Owusu, “This is how Ghanbatt presented its country to guests at the 215 Ibid. 216 Stephen Owusu, “A Praise-Worthy Performance,” Litani: UNIFIL News, May 1985, 12–13, AG-20; S-1078 Personal Files; Box S-1078-0089; Folder 5 - Litani - UNIFIL News Jan-Jun 1985, UN ARMS. 217 Ibid. 218 Ibid. 219 Ibid., 13. “Plaited” as it appears in the text. . 220 Ibid., 12. 327 Medal Day celebration.”221 This was also how they re-affirmed the idea of Ghana to the diverse Ghanaian unit itself. In stories like this, Ghanaian identity appears for fleeting moments, expresses itself, and then recedes behind other international, global, or individual ones. At a different ceremony three months earlier where the UNIFIL Force Commander issued UN Peace Medals to the Ghanaian and Irish battalions, the Irish Catholic chaplain and Ghana’s Muslim imam prayed side by side— one in English, the other in Arabic—for “those connected with the task of working for peace.”222 After parade formalities, both groups migrated to the Mess for “a few minutes of throat wetting,” a “jaw-breaking concert by Irish soldiers which sent a stab of pleasure into the hearts of the audience,” and a Ghanbatt band concert, “with a blend of classical, Ghanaian highlife, and reggae tunes.”223 Within just a few hours, Ghanaian soldiers expressed global religious identities (Christian and Muslim prayers), solidarity with the UN and the internationalist peacekeeping ethos that united small troop contributing states such as Ireland and Ghana, and a moment of pride in the national band’s national music, before forgetting it all “for that short evening, the men danced away the difficulties in the task of peacekeeping.”224 In the way it boosted Ghanaians’ pride while simultaneously shredding national distinctions in transnational social events, the Ghana contingent’s band epitomized peacekeepers’ churning national, international, and global identities. The Ghana Army’s 6th Infantry Battalion ceremonial band joined the first Ghanaians who arrived in the Sinai in 1974. They played martial music for official purposes, but at night they became “The Ranchis,” playing dance music gigs for peacekeepers around the Sinai.225 “For those who may raise an 221 Ibid., 13. 222 Stephen Owusu, “United for Peace,” Litani: UNIFIL News, March 1985, 21, AG-20; S-1078 Personal Files; Box S-1078-0089; Folder 5 - Litani - UNIFIL News Jan-Jun 1985, UN ARMS. 223 Ibid. 224 Ibid. 225 Unknown, “3BN On the Beat,” Ghana Armed Forces News, April 15, 1975, 4, GAF DPR. 328 eyebrow to ask about the sanity behind sending bandsmen to the war zone, I will like to refer them to the Vietnam War when the US government provided its troops with the James Brown show band,” Public Relations Officer Captain Victor Ansah wrote, with international aplomb.226 The Ranchis’ successors, the “HOT BARRELS” became local celebrities after Ghana’s contingent commander loaned them to the Swedish contingent for a night.227 “We were worried as to what type of music would appeal to the Swedish,” Lance Corporal Raphael Tay remembered.228 “But we got over it” when the band was “mobbed after doing the African beat ‘Shakara’. The shouts of ‘Da capo’, (enchore) were enough to assure the bandsmen that they were prepared to take in any number Western, African, Latin, Congo etc., and the band dug it out to them. That was a night to be remembered. A show that was scheduled to last two hours from 8 p.m. local time, ended at 12 p.m.”229 The HOT BARRELS were Ghana, Africa, the UN, and the globe all in one. At a gig at UN Headquarters in Ismalia, Egypt they mixed American ballads like “Killing Me Softly” with Highlife and their own compositions “Buffer Bone” and “To Sinai and Back.” 230 “No less than 15 different countries [were] represented on the staff of the UN Headquarters,” and the HOT BARRELS kept them spellbound, proving to “the multi-racial set up what Ghana could offer aside its military duties.”231 After the HOT BARRELS jammed for African ambassadors to the Arab Republic of Egypt at the African Diplomatic Club in Cairo, Ghana’s ambassador gushed, “You guys have made me proud among my friends.”232 The band was “the best in Egypt,” and “signed a month agreement with a popular night club and hotel ‘La Ronde.’” “The ‘HOT 226 Capt. Victor Ansah, “Ghana Glitters Through the ‘Barrels,’” Ghana Armed Forces News, September 1, 1974, 6, GAF DPR. 227 HOT BARRELS almost always appears in all caps, except after they departed and a reporter compared them to a sour drink. 228 Ansah, “Ghana Glitters Through the ‘Barrels,’” 4. 229 Ibid. Style exactly as it appears in the text. 230 Ibid. 231 Ibid. 232 Ibid. 329 BARRELS’ and the Ghana contingent has made Ghana known,” Ansah crowed. “Very soon, we shall not be called ‘Ghana Bissau’ by our brothers, the Egyptians.”233 It is not clear if “Ghana Bissau” was an Egyptian slur against Black Africans in general or just against Ghanaian provincialism, but Ansah boldly seized “brotherhood” status from the Egyptians nonetheless. Plus, “armed with a few pamphlets on tourism in Ghana” he added, the band also promoted tourism, “a foreign exchange earner”—a real concern in the deepest days of Ghana’s economic crisis and recurring theme in the AF News as it struggled to justify military spending in Ghana. The HOT BARRELS returned to Ghana in February 1975. Their replacement, “Third Generation,” apparently “played so well that it made the music of the Hot Barrels taste sour in the mouth of those who had swallowed mouthfuls of it.”234 Each deployed unit brought a band, and the band brought part of Ghana with it. But at gigs for multinational audiences, the band also transcended Ghana and men from around the world danced. Finally, Ghanaian soldiers expressed solidarity with an international military identity in the 1970s and 1980s in the ways they yearned for peace. In one of the very first dispatches from the Sinai, before Medals Day parades, before the massive reimbursements to Ghana’s soldiers and government, before anyone knew that Ghana would continuously maintain 500 to 700 soldiers in the Middle East for the next four decades, Public Relations Officer A. A. Enninful reflected: “It may be a difficult task, it may be a thankless endeavor and surely their reward shall not be in gold or silver . . . Beyond this, there is definitely a richer something – the Beatitudes’ reward for the peacemakers: ‘they shall be called the children of God’.”235 Makana Blay’s “Fanara Diary” mourned for Egypt’s children, “Poor innocent children! Some of them lost their fathers during the war. How I wish there is peace so that huge sums of money being spent on 233 Ibid., 6. 234 Unknown, “3BN On the Beat,” 4. 235 Enninful, “To the War Zone and Back,” 4–5. 330 arms would be used on their upbringing.”236 Warrant Officer Stephen Owusu, who served three tours in Lebanon in the 1980s as a correspondent for the Public Information Office, collected and republished his most poignant articles in 2009 in Writing for Peace, taking the title from a Litani article he wrote in 1985.237 “Before my maiden physical contact with Lebanon,” he wrote, “I had only a faint idea of the country . . . I remember one particularly ghastly scene in a TV news slot, where street battle in Beirut left the streets filled with horror, reminiscent of a battlefield. My reaction to what I saw was that of shock and sympathy for the defenseless civilian population (made up of children, women and the aged) I saw fleeing in panic for dear life.”238 After that, he recalled, “I nursed the urge for an opportunity to help in my little way the efforts of the United Nations to restore peace in Lebanon.”239 In 1985, he returned to Ghana after his third tour in Lebanon “with my hands raised in prayer for the country I love and have sacrificed so much for to see the light at the end of the tunnel, for my sacrifice and that of my United Nations colleagues will be futile if it is not linked up with total peace for Lebanon.”240 Ghanaian soldiers expressed their longing for peace the AF News and in the “Poet’s Corner” of Ghana’s peacekeeping magazines. In the Marakah, Ghana’s journal from Lebanon in the late 1980s, Warrant Officer Sowa Okpoti wrote: “Allow me to do my duty to God and man / To a people famishing for peace and security in this turmoil / the restoration of dignified life in tranquility is my lot / Though I’m but a spark in the peace process / Surely, I’ve something up my sleeve to surprise the world with.”241 In another poem, “Mediterranean Sea,” Okpoti wrote: 236 Blay, “From Makana’s Fanara Diary,” 4. 237 A warrant officer was a senior non-commissioned officer, above most ranks of Sergeant, but below the lowest rank of commissioned officer, Lieutenant. Stephen Owusu, “Writing for Peace,” Litani: UNIFIL News, May 1985, 6, AG-20; S-1078 Personal Files; Box S-1078-0089; Folder 5 - Litani - UNIFIL News Jan-Jun 1985, UN ARMS; Stephen Owusu, Writing for Peace (Ghana: tecnic Channel, 2009). 238 Owusu, “Writing for Peace,” May 1985, 6. 239 Ibid. 240 Ibid. 241 WOI Sowa Okpoti, “The Plea of the Peacekeeper,” in The Marakah, vol. 2, News of the Ghanaian Contingent (Public Relations Detachment of GHANBATT 30, 1988), 15. 331 “Mother Mediterranean here we are, we beseech / Great Demarcator of two terrains, here we are, we kowtow . . . Peace and security being our search / Your sympathy and empathy we crave.”242 The AF News published Private Ahwireng E. D. Atore’s poem, “Peace”: “I’m Peace / I’m Odomonkoma (God) / I love peace so I created it . . . I warn you! / Keep peace and prevent destruction / Birds which run north, south, / east and west even announce / my message of peace / I pray thee / Keep peace.”243 For these soldiers, Ghana’s military publications were perfectly acceptable fora to express a global desire for peace. More than that, they considered themselves global citizens—as sons of the “Mother Mediterranean”—who actually brought peace to the world. Their sentiments were not simply longing for peace in their troubled home; they expressed their passion for the project of peace that they had undertaken in another place, alongside comrades from other places. For Owusu, “the country I love” was Lebanon; Okpoti considered himself “but a spark in the peace process” but one with “something up my sleeve to surprise the world.” They genuinely desired peace, and they genuinely considered themselves part of the international structure that delivered it. They could only do this from outside Ghana, but their decades of prior experience integrating international education, international intellectual and political influences, international travel, and international economic strategies made soldiers from the Ghana Armed Forces adept at expressing their international identities on peacekeeping missions abroad. As we have seen, many of the same influences made their families equally adept at manifesting multiple international identities as well. Conclusion 242 WOI Sowa Okpoti, “Mediterranean Sea,” in The Marakah, vol. 2, News of the Ghanaian Contingent (Public Relations Detachment of GHANBATT 30, 1988), 15. 243 Pte. Ahwireng E. D. Atore, “Peace,” [Ghana] AFNEWS, Last Quarter 1990, 12, GAF DPR. 332 Introducing their volume Diasporas Within and Without Africa—Dynamism, Heterogeneity, Variation, Leif O. Manger and Munzoul A. M. Assal argue that individuals and groups in diasporas relate and integrate into communities in hosts of ways, and that in future studies, “these differences need to be found empirically, they cannot be derived from any theoretical position.”244 This chapter uses examples from Ghanaian men and women who participated in a massive global network of military education and training and peacekeeping operations to find such differences. It proposes a new transnational identity for Ghanaians that combined individuals’ alternate political and economic strategies with a global ethos of peacemaking. That identity intersected with the internationalism that other military travelers and communities around global sites of international military exchange also expressed. Ghanaian families found in international education and international peacekeeping service a combination of resources for personal protection, both political and economic, as well as new demands and new opportunities for a new outlook. Many Ghanaian families chose military service after independence specifically because it offered the best opportunity to participate in a social imaginary that celebrated “going abroad to get ahead.” Given Ghana’s political uncertainty between the 1960s and 1980s, Ghanaian military families abroad both depended on the Ghanaian state for transportation to the sites of international contact but could not rely on the state to continue to support them while abroad. Some, such as the Anyidoho family, the Oduro-Kwartengs, and the Erskines, even employed international military agreements specifically to protect them from their own nation-state. The Ghanaian state, for its part, similarly leveraged its participation in international peacekeeping missions to alleviate its own economic crises by claiming millions of dollars in reimbursement from the United Nations for its troops and equipment in Egypt, then Lebanon. 244 Manger and Assal, “Diasporas Within and Without Africa--Dynamism, Heterogeneity, Variation,” 19. 333 Even larger numbers of Ghanaian soldiers gained access to international travel, service alongside soldiers from around the world, and generous reimbursement from the international community performing peacekeeping for the United Nations. Thousands of Ghanaians—up to 31,000 people, counting repeats—deployed to the Sinai and Lebanon between 1973 and 1990. While deployed, they acquired household goods such as appliances, furniture, and building materials that permitted them to execute personal economic strategies that both insulated them from further dependence on the Ghanaian state and resembled economic strategies of Ghanaians in diaspora communities elsewhere around the globe. One essential difference, however, was the way military wives adapted to the isolation resulting from lengthy separations and the danger of military service, even peacekeeping service. They responded by learning new skills and forming new communities, with the paradoxical result that they both conformed more closely to patriarchal ideals about the “ideal military wife” while acquiring the resources to become more independent at the same time. They developed an international identity around national military service that required mobility and prescribed internationally defined standards for modernity while simultaneously offering resources only available from international sources. International education and peacekeeping service did more than fatten Ghanaian soldiers’ pockets, however. In the ways they expressed solidarity with other military families abroad— especially around institutes for education and training, they manifested the same internationalist ethos we found in communities of military families and their sponsors around Fort Leavenworth. International military travel cultivated personal relationships, and an international identity resulted. Peacekeepers, likewise, expressed through reflective essays, poetry, and their own memoirs their commitment to global peace after serving with the United Nations in the Middle East. Such service clearly reinforced their national pride, and the Ghana Armed Forces defended 334 its size, budget, and corporate benefits based on this national pride, but individual Ghanaians’ pride also transcended strictly national boundaries.245 245 Embassy of Ghana, “Erskine: Army Must Be Loyal to Govt.,” 5. 335 Conclusion In Sweetness and Power, his “anthropology of modern life” exploring the global sugar trade, Sidney Mintz asks, “If the users themselves do not so much determine what is available to be used as add meanings to what is available, what does that say about meaning?”1 Must the power to “determine availabilities” automatically confer the power to bestow meaning? How did individuals on the margins of global networks of trade, labor, and consumption also participate in devising and deciding the social meaning that swirled around rites of consumption? This dissertation asks similar questions about a more recent global commodity, military-sponsored international travel, and discovers, like Mintz, that the power to determine the meaning of global military exchanges flowed both ways in both vertical and horizontal axes. Vertically, both citizens and their governments appropriated the lofty official language that international military exchange transcended nations, transformed visitors into modern citizens, forming lasting relationships, and brought peace—when it suited them. Women volunteers around Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, for example, seized Eisenhower’s repeated pronouncement that ordinary citizens, not governments, made the best ambassadors, and led community programs supporting international officers and their families at the Command and General Staff College. Ghanaian soldiers and their families maximized the rewards of international education and training programs abroad or UN peacekeeping service to exercise their individual strategies to mitigate Ghana’s political and economic uncertainty. Government agents in Congress, the Defense and State Departments fell back on the unmeasurable human dimensions of international military training when forced to defend specific programs’ lack of real results or, worse, evidence that American military training programs created monsters. 1 Sidney Wilfred Mintz, Sweetness and Power: The Place of Sugar in Modern History (New York: Viking, 1985), xxix. 336 Political and military elites in Ghana held up mythical, modern, military values of loyalty, professionalism, and nationalism they acquired via international sources alternately to discourage military intervention into Ghanaian politics, defend their intervention after the fact, or sustain peacekeeping operations that benefitted political and military leaders alike. Both Ghanaian and American citizens cited the new identity that international military travel exposed to make claims against their governments. Governments also acknowledged that identity, if only to defend lucrative international exchange programs. Horizontally, the internationalist identity that military exchange nurtured augmented individual Ghanaians and Americans’ regional and national outlooks. In the ways it empowered international interaction between “ordinary” citizens of different states, Military Internationalism also changed the way women and men in American communities interacted with one another. American cultural imperialism wrapped up as domestic ideals offered an export version of patriarchal hegemony for foreign visitors, but American women still led the process of wrapping an offering. Likewise, Ghanaian military families made the entire globe their workplace as they exercised economic strategies similar to other African families in the post-independence diaspora abroad. Meanwhile, both men and women capitalized on international circuits of hospitality to form long lasting friendships around the world. The major difference was that a global military infrastructure—the United States’ massive education and training program and the United Nations’ unending mandate for peacekeeping deployments—both enabled and restricted individuals’ freedom to travel. Likewise, individuals who attached themselves to a global military infrastructure while simultaneously affirming their commitment to peace ensured that the internationalist identity they professed was intellectually flexible enough to accommodate a wide range of seemingly contradictory values. 337 Part 1 of this work explored the history of the United States’ international military education and training program in the three decades after 1960 and Ghana’s parallel participation in international training and education during that time. First, by evaluating the United States’ international training program, I argued that American policymakers who thought they were contributing to the modernization of the “developing world” were actually restating prior assumptions about the transformative power of travel to the United States. They applied those assumptions to existing international military education and training exchange programs, and the programs became resilient enough to weather great changes in American foreign policy over three decades. Next, I examined how Ghanaian military planners and military-turned-political leaders consumed international military education assistance to educate Ghanaian officers, justify their own intervention into Ghanaian politics, and export military expertise to other African states. They cannily employed internationally recognized metaphors to explain their actions and plot their courses, but also sincerely regarded some international military ethics and valued highly opportunities for international travel only accessible to military personnel. Policymakers in both the United States and Ghana assumed that international travel, especially for military elites or potential elites, could yield corporate transformation and modernization to recipient states’ entire societies, via the military. But those advancements only occurred after individual transformations. I argued that the transformation to modernity they described was closer to a symptom of a global internationalist identity than the cause. Part 2 argued that the individuals affected experienced the international exchange much more concretely. Around American institutions for military education, the community structures that evolved to welcome, instruct, and socialize visiting military personnel and their families flourished on their informal, unofficial status. American women, especially, thrived in the environment which specifically discounted the role of the state and which elevated universal 338 values of hospitality, internationalism, and world peace. Ghanaian families on military- sponsored courses abroad also employed international education to exercise a global social imaginary based on entrepreneurial travel to relieve economic and political stresses in Ghana. Finally, large numbers of Ghanaian soldiers and their spouses integrated the trials and danger of international peacekeeping both for the benefits they provided and with a genuine faith that their service nurtured an authentically better world. All of these groups, in other words, saw international military travel as a method to access or actualize something better than the world of geopolitical competition between Cold War hegemons, the ravaging of their proxy wars, and the economic stagnation and neo-colonialism that scorched the battlegrounds between them. In 1993, three decades after Deputy Secretary of Defense Roswell Gilpatrick initiated the “Informational Program for Foreign Military Trainees and Visitors in the United States,” the Under Secretary of Defense for Policy commissioned the RAND Corporation to evaluate once again whether training international military students delivered any measureable results.2 RAND’s Jennifer Morrison Taw and William H. McCoy repeated in 1993 many of the same conclusions that the State Department’s Neil Campbell and Elliot Strauss made in 1971 and Harry Amos of the General Research Corporation reiterated in 1979: International students returned home with “positive impressions of the United States,” yet there was “no proven means of evaluating the effectiveness of the IP.” It was “virtually impossible” to assess “positive actions and non-actions” of U.S.-trained personnel, but their “transgressions . . . such as the 1989 murder of Jesuit priests and two women by the Atlacatl battalion in El Salvador” were “often glaring.”3 In all likelihood, Taw and McCoy mused, post-Cold War budget cuts would render 2 The Effectiveness of Training International Military Students in Internal Defense and Development, Executive Summary (Santa Monica, CA: RAND, 1993), iii. 3 Jennifer Morrison Taw and William H. McCoy, International Military Student Training: Beyond Tactics, A RAND Note (Santa Monica, CA: RAND, 1993), 11, http://www.dtic.mil/dtic/tr/fulltext/u2/a282473.pdf. 339 further discussion moot anyway, since “total U.S. foreign military training is therefore declining inevitably.”4 That 1993 concession was striking not because it was a fresh admission of failure atop a stack of likeminded reports three decades old, but because it still held out faith in the intangible benefits that flowed from personal relationships between international military students and Americans at all. In that manner, the Ghanaian case is representative universally: as an exercise in foreign policy, the United States’ international military education and training program had no chance to mold a recipient state’s national political development, democratic institutions, or commitment to human rights via intervention into the professional education of military leaders. Scholars and government-funded studies alike repeated the same conclusion for decades, even when they continued to praise the program in principle. In places where the U.S. sought or had the capacity to maintain limited political influence, they considered even a token military exchange program worthwhile. Yet no one—not American or Ghanaian policymakers nor American or Ghanaian citizens—considered the education and training of Ghanaian military personnel in the United States a failure. American political elites and citizens praised the program in principle because, as they ever were since the earliest days of American military exchange programs in the twentieth century, the specific sites of ideological transfer—American communities—were permanently above question. Likewise, Ghanaians celebrated the opportunity to travel to the United States for the individual personal, economic, and political benefits it brought. Military travel brought Ghanaians and Americans closer to the “imagined world,” the interdependent global community. Even when graduates of American staff colleges overthrew their governments—as did Acheampong in 1972 or Nimeiri in 1969—no one claimed the relationships they formed with their sponsor families had anything to do with the coup. 4 Taw, The Effectiveness of Training International Military Students in Internal Defense and Development, Executive Summary, 18. 340 Even elsewhere in Africa, where the United States ran small exchange programs, military education in the U.S. resulted in no noticeable national or corporate benefits on its own. RAND’s William H. McCoy admitted that particularly in Africa, “where change and development have not occurred despite considerable investment by many countries around the world, training in the United States may simply be a respite for a deserving individual from an otherwise dreary existence.”5 U.S. training brought no improvement to either the “professionalism or capabilities” of the Liberian army during the 1980s, for example, even though the U.S. IMET program sponsored roughly the same number of Liberian military students as Ghanaians in the previous decade.6 Ghana even helped lead the Economic Community of West African States’ peacekeeping mission to Liberia in 1989. At best, as the case of Senegal showed—where the U.S. trained roughly half as many soldiers as Ghanaians—international military training was only one of several factors contributing to a state’s civil-military relationship, including political stability, economic security, and ethnic harmony.7 By demonstrating that this held true for Ghanaians as well, the case of Ghana is representative in that international military travel provided individual families opportunities to improve their own lives. Across the decades, Americans largely accepted this as an acceptable outcome, if not the official one. Compared to the United States’ far larger military training initiatives in Southeast Asia in the 1960s and Latin American from the 1950s through the 1980s, the limited number of Ghanaian soldiers who trained in the United States makes the Ghanaian case unique. An International Military Education and Training program like the one that brought small numbers of Ghanaian elites to the United States operated under considerably less menacing ideological 5 McCoy, Senegal and Liberia, 5. 6 413 Liberians, 451 Ghanaians between 1976 and 1989. Manolas and Samelson, “The IMET Program: Report to Congress,” 35; McCoy, Senegal and Liberia, 25, 61. 7 201 Senegalese from 1976-1989. McCoy, Senegal and Liberia, 8; Manolas and Samelson, “The IMET Program: Report to Congress,” 35. 341 conditions. American military education and training that took place abroad needed other ways to reconcile the coercive aspects of modernization theory or Cold War anti-communism without the reserve of faith in the goodness of American communities to mask the programs’ militarism. Refusing to correlate the social imaginary of a global military community with graduates who return terrorize their communities fails a critical test of internationalism. In Latin America or Southeast Asia, for example, a code of silence or refusal to hold fellow graduates accountable for human tragedies they caused appeared to be a corporate by-product of Military Internationalism. At least, highly publicized cases of American-trained soldiers torturing and murdering political opponents caused a great deal more soul-searching over whether the United States was simply training “assassins.”8 American training for those nations’ armies occurred among American communities, to some extent, but far more often in home countries or in the Canal Zone. In the latter case, the internationalist faith that maintained the Informational Program never entered the picture. It is not clear that American training or life in American communities caused sadistic behavior. Describing Uruguay’s dirty war of the mid-1970s, for example, The New Yorker’s Lawrence Weschler recalled that some officers insisted, “with an almost perverse hemispheric pride, [that] Latin American militaries were quite capable of coming up with all kinds of unpleasantness on their own, and needed no instruction from the North.”9 But more than 1,400 Uruguayans attended the School of the Americas in the Canal 8 Nelson-Pallmeyer, School of Assassins; Gill, The School of the Americas; Taw, The Effectiveness of Training International Military Students in Internal Defense and Development, Executive Summary, vii; McCoy repeats “a rumor,” spread via “a human rights newsletter,” that Marcos’ top torturer (Lt Col Rolando Abadilla) studied at CGSC. McCoy, Closer than Brothers, 190; Jennifer Morrison Taw, Thailand and the Philippines: Case Studies in U.S. IMET Training and Its Role in Internal Defense and Development (Santa Monica, CA: RAND, 1994), xiv; On the code of silence between “former torturers persisting in their midst,” see Weschler, “A Reporter at Large: The Great Exception I -- Liberty,” 43–85, esp. p. 48 Some Uruguayans insisted, “with almost perverse hemispheric pride,” that they even taught the US trainers how to torture, although over 1400 Uruguayan officers trained at the School of the Americas in Panama before 1977. Holden, “The Real Diplomacy of Violence”; Bartholomew, Senate Hearings Before the Committee on Appropriations; Foreign Operations, Export Financing, and Related Programs Appropriations, Fiscal Year 1991; H. R. 5114, 891. 9 Weschler, “A Reporter at Large: The Great Exception I -- Liberty,” 48. 342 Zone between 1950 and 1977 when President Carter terminated all American military assistance to Uruguay. Therefore, the question of how American military training for soldiers in the client states also damaged the global community still lingers.10 That lingering question, I suspect, prevented Akira Iriye from acknowledging international military training and peacekeeping missions among the alternate, transnational paths to cooperation he included in his definition of internationalism.11 Without question, formal state machinery dominated the shape and structure of the exchanges, and usually couched them in terms of geopolitical security. On the other hand, both the individuals who travelled and the individuals whose hospitality nurtured relationships with the travelers devised their own strategies to extract meaning from that travel, be it economic, political, or cultural. Even policymakers, when pressed, admitted that those individual meanings—relationships “of a higher order”; a peacekeeper with “something up my sleeve to surprise the world with”—were more than just a cost-free benefit; they were closer to the “real world” after all. 10 Ibid., 46. 11 Iriye, Cultural Internationalism and World Order, 2. 343 Bibliography Archival Sources and Collections: Ghana’s Public Records and Archives Administration (PRAAD) Directorate of Public Relations, Ghana Armed Forces, Burma Camp, Accra (DPR) Ghana Armed Forces Command and Staff College Library, Teshie (GAFCSC) George Padmore Research Library, Accra Ghana News, Publication of the Ghana Embassy in the United States U.S. National Archives at College Park, MD (NACP) Record Group 330 Records of the Office of the Secretary of Defense (RG 330) Record Group 59 General Records of the Department of State Central Decimal Files (CDF), Central Foreign Policy Files (CFPF), Subject Numeric Files (SNF) Fort Leavenworth Combined Arms Research Library (CARL) International Officers Collection Fort Leavenworth Combined Arms Research Library (CARL) The Leavenworth Lamp Microfilm Collection City of Leavenworth Public Library Leavenworth Times Microfilm Collection Kansas City Public Library Missouri Valley Special Collections Greater Kansas City Chapter of People-to-People International, Kansas City, MO (GKCPTP) United Nations Archives and Records Management Section (ARMS) AG-020 United Nations Office for Special Political Affairs 1946-1991 AG-035 United Nations - Emergency Force II (UNEF) 1973-1979 AG-031 Field Service and Successor Bodies (1948-1982) AG-006 Secretary-General Kurt Waldheim (1972-1981) 344 Interviews and Oral Histories Michael Abana* (Colonel, retired), former Faculty, Ghana Armed Forces Staff College, July 18, 2012. 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