This book offers a timely and interesting take on the role of deception in the lead-up to war within the context of democratic states, specifically the United States. While this was a central issue in George W. Bush’s case for the 2003 war in Iraq, John Scheussler demonstrates convincingly that American presidents have frequently used this practice. The bulk of the book’s evidence takes the form of three well-written, thoroughly researched case studies, each of which chronicles the behavior of a president in the months and weeks leading up to and the early days of a modern American war. The end result is a compelling argument for the link between a democratic leader’s need for public support and his use of deception to avoid the political costs of accountability.

Scheussler’s theory outlines the conditions under which two types of deception—blame shifting and overselling—are most likely to emerge. Blame shifting occurs when “the expected costs [of war] are high … or success is uncertain [and] leaders can anticipate serious resistance going to war” (p. 4). Domestic support for war under these conditions is likely to be low, and so leaders must take steps to shape the narrative such that the public believes war was forced upon the state. This includes denying any attempt or desire to engage in the conflict, as well as seizing upon any act by the enemy that could be portrayed as aggressive. If the leader is successful in doing these two things, the public will be more amenable to war. Overselling involves a different strategy. When the perceived costs of war are thought to be low and public is more open to the idea of conflict (or at least neutral), a leader can whip up popular support by making the threat out to be bigger than it is. If conditions are ripe, Scheussler argues, this form of deception can be quite effective. The political opposition will have little incentive to openly challenge a war, especially if the public is supportive. Given this, leaders “can inflate the threat secure in the knowledge that their claims will not be rigorously vetted in the marketplace of ideas” (p. 16).

Having laid out the theory concerning when leaders should engage in each type of deception, Scheussler turns to three case studies “marked by different levels of domestic opposition to war” (p. 25). World War II serves as an instance when the public was in no mood for war and had to be led step by step into the fray by Franklin D.Roosevelt, who had been keen to help the Allies for years prior. During Vietnam, Lyndon B. Johnson did not face strenuous opposition initially, though support for the war was middling at best. Finally, in the case of the 2003 Iraq War and George W. Bush, the public was far more “permissive” and open to the idea of conflict. These cases illustrate Scheussler’s theory nicely. FDR engaged in significant blame shifting and turned a war-weary public into one clamoring for revenge after Pearl Harbor. LBJ, by contrast, employed “a creeping form of blame-shifting” (p. 26), which later led to his undoing after his attempts at deception became known. Finally, George W. Bush exhibited classic overselling behavior. In the wake of the September 11 attacks, the public was more open to the idea of war, and elected officials were afraid of looking “soft on terror.” This created an opening for Bush to pivot from Afghanistan to Iraq, emphasizing the threat posed by Saddam Hussein and his alleged stockpiles of weapons of mass destruction. This move, of course, would later come back to haunt Bush as it became more clear that the threat was overblown.

These cases are useful in several regards. First, they illustrate a clear link between domestic political circumstances and the type of deception a leader will employ. They also illustrate the tremendous potential for blowback, which Schuessler discusses explicitly, especially in the context of Vietnam and Iraq. They also shed light on an underexplored topic in the literature: the crucial finessing that leaders must engage in, both for the public and for elites behind closed doors, in the period immediately preceding a war. The majority of the public opinion literature focuses on how leaders work to maintain approval in wars that are ongoing. Scheussler focuses on the thought that goes into the ways to pitch a war to the public and the choices leaders have to make concerning what information to reveal or keep under wraps.

Deceit on the Road to War makes several important contributions. Like any good book, however, it also raises some interesting questions. First, is there ever an incentive for democratic leaders not to use deception? From Scheussler’s account, engaging in either overselling or blame-shifting behavior can increase the public’s tolerance for conflict, hence extending the leader’s ability to conduct the war as he or she sees fit. According to the theory, blame shifting would happen in wars that are expected to be hard, while overselling would be associated with wars whose victory is assured. Are leaders less likely to deceive if the war is to be somewhere in between these two points? Scheussler notes the possibility of blowback, but does not make clear whether the fear of this retribution is what keeps leaders honest (if, indeed, they ever are). Part of the appeal of his argument is that it is very easy to come up with examples of other American presidents not featured in his case studies who have engaged in similar behavior. Some variation in this regard (if such an example exists) would have served as an informative counter to the other cases.

Second, the book does not fully address the question of the amount of power a president has in shaping the narrative surrounding a war and in leading public opinion. This shortcoming is by no means unique to this book, but it was noteworthy here given the centrality of the bully pulpit to Scheussler’s argument. He notes that many scholars “assume that leaders’ ability to manipulate public opinion is highly constrained” (p. 20), but does not elaborate on the limits of these constraints when it comes to overselling or blame shifting. Are presidents always at a disadvantage in shaping the narrative, or, as other scholars have argued, can they create public consent by virtue of being the chief foreign policy actor? The author pays a great deal of attention to the former, but the ability for presidents to do the latter (at least to some degree) is implicit in his argument. Which characterization is more accurate?

In the context of World War II, for instance, was a major event like Pearl Harbor necessary to push U.S. public opinion past a certain threshold? Or could FDR have made a case earlier by laying out the dangers of leaving Germany unchecked more forcefully? Scheussler mentions FDR’s ominous fireside chat that warned of Americans “living at the point of a gun” (p. 29), but then goes on in the following pages to describe the president’s reluctance to do more in the public eye. This implied that FDR knew that the time was not right, but left me wondering a) what threshold he was waiting to cross and b) why he did not take a more proactive role in trying to get the United States to war faster.

In sum, there is a great deal to like about Deceit on the Road to War. It speaks to a key issue that should be of interest to scholars of both international relations and American politics. It also sheds a considerable amount of light on the complex relationship between leader and citizen during times of war. Finally, it also raises interesting questions about the limits of presidential power and the nature of democratic accountability.