In November 1965, Ian Smith's white minority government in Southern Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) made a unilateral declaration of independence, breaking with Great Britain. With a European population of a few hundred thousand dominating an African majority of several million, Rhodesia's racial structure echoed the apartheid of neighboring South Africa. Smith's declaration sparked an escalating guerrilla war that claimed thousands of lives.
Across the Atlantic, President Lyndon B. Johnson nervously watched events in Rhodesia, fearing that racial conflict abroad could inflame racial discord at home. Although Washington officially voiced concerns over human rights violations, an attitude of tolerance generally marked U.S. relations with the Rhodesian sanctions were imposed but not strictly enforced, and hundreds, perhaps thousands, of American mercenaries joined white Rhodesia's side in battle with little to fear from U.S. laws. Despite such tacit U.S. support, Smith's regime fell in 1980, and the independent state of Zimbabwe was born.
The first comprehensive account of American involvement in the war against Zimbabwe, this compelling work also explores how our relationship with Rhodesia helped define interracial dynamics in the United States, and vice versa.
Dr. Gerald Horne is an eminent historian who is Chair of History and African American Studies at the University of Houston. An author of more than thirty books and one hundred scholarly articles and reviews, his research has addressed issues of racism in a variety of relations involving labor, politics, civil rights, international relations, war and the film industry.
The thing with Horne's books is like, you have to go into them knowing that you'll get part polemic and part history book. I'm not sure if there's a name for this in rhetoric or something, but when I read e.g. Gleijeses I feel like I'm reading some sort of "objective" history book (I know I'm not, and that there's no such thing, but yeah something about the writing style). Horne is kind of the inverse case, where because I already know I'm with him in terms of fury against the unimaginable suffering inflicted on the wretched of the earth by the Rhodesian Apartheid regime, I have to work to "extract" the history out of the polemical structure. Concretely, in the case of this book, an example would be the times when he cites message board posts by former Rhodesian soldiers, bragging about their war crimes... they're infuriating, they underline the absolute callousness and depravity of the white settlers and their bands of mercenaries, but for my purposes (dissertating) I can't really take them as sources. There are also tons of citations to official ZAPU outlets, citations I was sometimes able to follow up on via HathiTrust, but again I was unable to use most of them as sources just given that they were often to these somewhat speculative/propagandistic claims within the ZAPU paper. Anyways, it's not really Horne's fault at all, it's the fault of journalists and academia in general for not ever giving a shit about the suffering of millions and millions living under these brutal apartheid settler regimes in sub-Saharan Africa, and given that constraint on the veracity of sources, it's an incredibly good book.
"From the Barrel of a Gun" is a bit misnamed I think. It focuses on the actions of US citizens and US foreign policy during the wars for Zimbabwean independence. It is very well written and well researched. It is a bit limited in its analysis because the focus of the book is so very specific. I think that is something to keep in mind while reading this. And I would not recommend reading this without a broader knowledge of the history of the region between 1965-1980.
The heart of this book is a criticism of white supremacy and colonialism. It spends quite a bit of time analyzing the way anticommunist sentiment, the after effects of the Vietnam war, and US culture intersected to create US mercenary involvement throughout the region.
Very much an attempt to centre the US in the transition from Rhodesia to Zimbabwe; failed to convince me. Lots of intriguing small details though, mostly about mercenaries, and some laugh out loud moments made up for pages and pages of rolling my eyes. Pretty repetitive in parts; very preachy in others (I guess the author really had some thoughts about sadza, and anticommunism, and Afrikaners?). Hardly balanced, but still interesting.
Book Review: From the Barrel of a Gun: The United States and the War Gerald Horne’s From the Barrel of a Gun is a searing and eye-opening account of how global geopolitics, racial capitalism, and imperial interests collided with Zimbabwe’s struggle for liberation. Centering the role of the United States, Horne provides a sobering reassessment of the international dynamics that shaped the Zimbabwean liberation war from 1965 to 1980.
At the heart of the book is the legacy of settler colonialism in Rhodesia, where a tiny white European settler population — numbering just a few hundred thousand — imposed its will on an African majority of millions. This racial hierarchy closely mirrored South African apartheid, underpinned by land dispossession, political exclusion, and ruthless repression. The system was not accidental. It was carefully constructed over decades, dating back to the days of Cecil John Rhodes, the British imperialist after whom Rhodesia was named.
Although Rhodes was not a Christian himself, he understood the immense power of religion as a tool of empire. He encouraged Christian missionaries to operate in Zimbabwe, not out of faith, but because he recognised that the Zimbabwean people were profoundly spiritual. In traditional Zimbabwean society, kings and chiefs were seen as spiritually linked to the divine, often through the institution of the mhondoro (ancestral spirits) and masvikiro (mediums). Rhodes and the colonial establishment knew that to subjugate the people, these indigenous systems of authority and belief had to be broken.
The church became a key ally in this cultural warfare. Missionaries not only undermined local beliefs, but also helped disrupt the social cohesion, heritage, and spiritual identity of the people. As Horne’s narrative later shows, this disruption was not merely symbolic — it sowed confusion, fractured communities, and laid the groundwork for division among the African majority, making it easier for minority rule to persist.
With the Unilateral Declaration of Independence (UDI) by Ian Smith in 1965, Rhodesia formally defied Britain and the international community, triggering a guerrilla war that escalated rapidly. The war, waged by liberation movements like ZANLA and ZIPRA, claimed tens of thousands of lives and devastated families and communities. Yet it was not inevitable. As Horne makes clear, the war might have been avoided altogether if Africans had been treated with dignity, justice, and fairness from the outset. But opportunities to build equitable relationships were ignored. Colonialism chose dominance over dialogue, control over coexistence.
A central theme of the book is the hypocrisy of the United States, which outwardly condemned Smith’s regime but in practice supported policies that preserved white minority rule — all in the name of Cold War politics. While liberation movements were painted as communist threats, the real threat to Western powers was the demand for true African sovereignty over land, resources, and destiny.
Horne’s work is not only a critique of U.S. foreign policy but a call to remember and honour the ideological, spiritual, and cultural foundations of Zimbabwe’s liberation. The war was not just about politics — it was about reclaiming an identity that had been systematically attacked and denied.
In conclusion, From the Barrel of a Gun is an essential contribution to African and global history. It confronts the myth of Western neutrality, challenges us to reckon with the spiritual and cultural violence of colonialism, and reminds us that freedom was won not through goodwill, but through sacrifice and struggle. This book is both a warning and a tribute — urging us never to forget the cost of liberation, and the deeper truths that were nearly erased along the way.