"The story of seventeen African American officers who trained, reorganized, and commanded the Liberian Frontier Force to defend Liberia between 1910 and 1942"--
An unheralded military hero, Charles Young (1864–1922) was the third black graduate of West Point, the first African American national park superintendent, the first black U.S. military attaché, the first African American officer to command a Regular Army regiment, and the highest-ranking black officer in the Regular Army until his death. Black Officer in a Buffalo Soldier Regiment tells the story of the man who—willingly or not—served as a standard-bearer for his race in the officer corps for nearly thirty years, and who, if not for racial prejudice, would have become the first African American general. Brian G. Shellum describes how, during his remarkable army career, Young was shuffled among the few assignments deemed suitable for a black officer in a white man’s army—the Buffalo Soldier regiments, an African American college, and diplomatic posts in black republics such as Liberia. Nonetheless, he used his experience to establish himself as an exceptional cavalry officer. He was a colonel on the eve of the United States’ entry into World War I, when serious medical problems and racial intolerance denied him command and ended his career. Shellum’s book seeks to restore a hero to the ranks of military history; at the same time, it informs our understanding of the role of race in the history of the American military.
Lieutenant General Daniel Opande, in his autobiography In Pursuit of Peace in Africa, shares his experiences in childhood, education, family and military career until his retirement. He wore many hats: soldier, military leader, peacemaker, humanitarian, peace ambassador and mediator. Notable highlights include his role in Kenya’s Shifta Campaign of the 1960s and engaging with rebels during peace operations he led in Namibia, Mozambique, Liberia, and Sierra Leone. In retirement, General Opande has occasionally mediated conflicts; among them the 2007, 2008, 2013 and 2017 election crises in Kenya and the aftermath of the 2015 upheavals in South Sudan. This book is a rich inspirational resource for aspiring leaders.
The town of Skagway was born in 1897 after its population quintupled in under a year due to the Klondike gold rush. Balanced on the edge of anarchy, the U.S. Army stationed Company L, a unit of Buffalo Soldiers, there near the end of the gold rush. Buffalo Soldiers in Alaska tells the story of these African American soldiers who kept the peace during a volatile period in America's resource-rich North. It is a fascinating tale that features white officers and Black soldiers safeguarding U.S. territory, supporting the civil authorities, protecting Native Americans, fighting natural disasters, and serving proudly in America's last frontier. Despite the discipline and contributions of soldiers who served honorably, Skagway exhibited the era's persistent racism and maintained a clear color line. However, these Black Regulars carried out their complex and sometimes contradictory mission with a combination of professionalism and restraint that earned the grudging respect of the independently minded citizens of Alaska. The company used the popular sport of baseball to connect with the white citizens of Skagway and in the process gained some measure of acceptance. Though the soldiers left little trace in Skagway, a few remained after their enlistments and achieved success and recognition after settling in other parts of Alaska.
In Forgotten Legacy, Benjamin R. Justesen reveals a previously unexamined facet of William McKinley’s presidency: an ongoing dedication to the advancement of African Americans, including their appointment to significant roles in the federal government and the safeguarding of their rights as U.S. citizens. During the first two years of his administration, McKinley named nearly as many African Americans to federal office as all his predecessors combined. He also acted on many fronts to stiffen federal penalties for participation in lynch mobs and to support measures promoting racial tolerance. Indeed, Justesen’s work suggests that McKinley might well be considered the first “civil rights president,” especially when compared to his next five successors in office. Nonetheless, historians have long minimized, trivialized, or overlooked McKinley’s cooperative relationships with prominent African American leaders, including George Henry White, the nation’s only black congressman between 1897 and 1901. Justesen contends that this conventional, one-sided portrait of McKinley is at best incomplete and misleading, and often severely distorts the historical record. A Civil War veteran and the child of abolitionist parents, the twenty-fifth president committed himself to advocating for equity for America’s black citizens. Justesen uses White’s parallel efforts in and outside of Congress as the primary lens through which to view the McKinley administration’s accomplishments in racial advancement. He focuses on McKinley’s regular meetings with a small and mostly unheralded group of African American advisers and his enduring relationship with leaders of the new National Afro-American Council. His nomination of black U.S. postmasters, consuls, midlevel agency appointees, military officers, and some high-level officials—including U.S. ministers to Haiti and Liberia—serves as perhaps the most visible example of the president’s work in this area. Only months before his assassination in 1901, McKinley toured the South, visiting African American colleges to praise black achievements and encourage a spirit of optimism among his audiences. Although McKinley succumbed to political pressure and failed to promote equality and civil rights as much as he had initially hoped, Justesen shows that his efforts proved far more significant than previously thought, and were halted only by his untimely death.
The reform and the democratic control of the security sector-and the joining together of security and development-have become a major focus of international intervention into post-conflict societies. In theory, security sector reform (SSR) programs derive from a comprehensive national defense and security review. They involve, at the core, the transformation of a country's military and police forces-but they also involve a comprehensive review and restructuring of intelligence services, the penitentiary, the judiciary, and other agencies charged in some way with preserving and promoting the safety and security of the state and its citizenry. However, the process of SSR in Liberia, supported by the United Nations, the United States, and a number of bilateral donors, is far more rudimentary than the conceptual paradigm suggests. It is aimed simply at the training and equipping of the army and the police, with little attention or resources being devoted to the other components of the security system.