This is an important book on a subject which is generally slighted in scholarly literature—namely, the relationship between pedagogy and historical research. The Cold War is not the only field of history that has experienced exponential growth in the volume of sources in the last two decades, but it must rank high given the impetus provided by the end of the Cold War itself. How to integrate this material into the undergraduate curriculum is the main focus of the book. It is worth starting with the closing section of the book which contains excellent essays by Christian Ostermann on the heroic and invaluable Cold War International History Project (CWIHP), by Marc Selverstone on presidential recordings, and M. Todd Bennett on the Foreign Relations of the United States (FRUS) series. All offer invaluable advice on use of these rich bodies of sources, mostly now available on line.

The coverage is wide (with a couple of caveats discussed below) and the approach generally practical in that the contributors are keen to show how their chosen topics can come alive in the classroom. After some general reflections on the Cold War by Carole Fink and Warren I. Cohen, there is a section on traditional topics (origins of the Cold War, the nuclear arms race, the end of the Cold War), including thoughtful reflections by high school teacher David Bosso on “Teaching the Cold War to the post-9/11 Generation.” Anthony D'Agostino's essay on the Soviets’ Cold War is one of only two essays in the book specifically on the eastern bloc, the other being Philip Pajakowski's superb chapter on Poland, with special reference to the novel and film Ashes and Diamonds. This is a must read, as is Kenneth Osgood's analysis of Cold War propaganda that examines in some detail Dwight D. Eisenhower's “Atoms for Peace” speech. Part Three on the Cold War and American Society contains excellent essays on “fear and anxiety” in the Cold War, popular culture, civil rights, and the relatively under-studied field of sport. Part Four on the Global Cold War includes important and, especially in the case of Ryan Irwin's essay on Africa, revealing essays on the impact of the Cold War on the wider world. In addition to essays on East Asia, Latin America, Africa, and eastern and western Europe, neutralism and the Non-Aligned Movement is well covered by Mary Ann Heiss. All in all, editor Matthew Masur is to be congratulated on putting together an impressive collection of essays.

A few caveats and reflections. First, it is a pity there is not greater representation of Soviet and east European topics. Westerners need to work harder to understand “the other” in the Cold War. Second, the absence of coverage of intelligence constitutes a glaring gap. I write as one who was chastised by a leading historian of intelligence for writing a history of the Cold War with only incidental reference to this topic. Research over the last three decades has shown that intelligence was integral to policy-making and the management as well as in some cases the manufacturing of crises. This is not just a matter of high-profile figures such as Harold Philby and the like but of routine practices on both sides. Should there be a second edition of this book, this gap should surely be filled.

Third, in the justifiable welcome for the proliferation of new sources, there is a slighting in one or two instances of valuable earlier publications. In his otherwise excellent piece on how to use the FRUS series, M. Todd Bennett chooses to highlight two documents which have long been well catered for in existing teaching materials. One is George Kennan's 1946 Long Telegram, which he (along with several other contributors) recommends placing alongside its Soviet equivalent, the Novikov Telegram, which is available at the CWIHP. In fact both telegrams, along with the comparable document by the First Secretary in the British Embassy in Moscow, Frank Roberts, have been available since 1993 in an excellent publication, Origins of the Cold War: The Novikov, Kennan, and Roberts “Long Telegrams” of 1946, edited by Kenneth Jensen. As it happens, Roberts’ document is in some respects more astute and thoughtful than Kennan's, besides which it offers a useful and relatively detached perspective on the central divide between the US and the Soviet Union. My point in referring to this publication is not to suggest that we need look no further on these particular topics. Far from it, but it is to point out that selection is more problematic than ever with the vast increase in the volume of sources. All the more reason to exploit acts of selection by earlier historians while seizing the opportunities offered by new sources.

The above reservations aside, there is little doubt that this book will be welcomed by teachers, not least for its references to a huge range of internet and visual sources. The Manchurian Candidate and Dr. Strangelove, among a number of other high-profile films, have long been used in the classroom, but this book will arm teachers with numerous new possibilities for recreating the atmosphere of the Cold War for students. Used sensitively, such sources can pose the central questions with peculiar educational force. Many of the contributors to this book discuss in detail their methods of balancing the new opportunities offered by new sources against the capacities of students to absorb them. Many ingenious strategies for presenting material are proposed, including ways of navigating through the sources and of contextualizing documents which on their own will mean little or nothing to students new to the topic. In the process, teachers are offering their own principles of selection and encouraging students do likewise. This collection of essays brings new clarity and force to the injunction that information is nothing if it does not become knowledge. If teaching is essentially the tool for making this transition, then this book must be warmly recommended for its ambition and achievement.