by Jonathan Rauch
Next year is the anniversary of not one but both of what I'd say are the two most under-remembered, underrated political milestones in American history. One is the seminal election of 1912, which next year's election is shaping up to be something of a referendum on. (Read about it here. Two-word summary of what Tea Partiers want: undo 1912.) The other is the war that changed our country into a nation.
The War of 1812, despite not even having a decent name, is, like, the best war ever. Not a ton of people died, an important principle (American sovereignty) was at stake, and the outcome was good for all concerned.
The odds were worse than ridiculous: 1042 British naval vessels against (ready?) 20 U.S. ships armed with 524 guns, "in other words, half as many guns as the Royal Navy had ships." Yet despite that, and despite domestic political divisions and a passel of incompetent generals, the U.S. fought Britain to a standstill—at sea, no less, where Britain was strongest.
How? I recommend Steven Budiansky's Perilous Fight (quoted above), my favorite book so far this year. His account of the naval battles literally set my pulse racing (and, sometimes, my stomach churning: close-quarters naval combat in those days was a gruesomely bloody affair), and the strategic tale turns out to be eerily relevant today. The Americans succeeded by developing what's now called asymmetric warfare, attacking British merchant shipping while running from fair fights. Ironically, in Vietnam a generation ago and now in Iraq and Afghanistan, the U.S. finds itself struggling with enemies who use against us the sort of tactics we pioneered two centuries ago.
"The United States more and more often [plays] the muscle-bound Goliath," writes Budiansky. "How America once skillfully played the nimble David is an enduring lesson well worth revising." We could profit by remembering 1812.
On the other hand, so could our adversaries. The other lesson of 1812 is that Americans usually start wars pretty badly but end them pretty well.