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Uncertain Ground: Citizenship in an Age of Endless, Invisible War
From the National Book Award-winning author of Redeployment and Missionaries , an astonishing fever graph of the effects of twenty years of war in a brutally divided America.
When Phil Klay left the Marines a decade ago after serving as an officer in Iraq, he found himself a part of the community of veterans who have no choice but to grapple with the meaning of their wartime experiences—for themselves and for the country. American identity has always been bound up in war—from the revolutionary war of our founding, to the civil war that ended slavery, to the two world wars that launched America as a superpower. What did the current wars say about who we are as a country, and how should we respond as citizens?
Unlike in previous eras of war, relatively few Americans have had to do any real grappling with the endless, invisible conflicts of the post-9/11 world; in fact, increasingly few people are even aware they are still going on. It is as if these wars are a dark star with a strong gravitational force that draws a relatively small number of soldiers and their families into its orbit while remaining inconspicuous to most other Americans. In the meantime, the consequences of American military action abroad may be out of sight and out of mind, but they are very real indeed.
This chasm between the military and the civilian in American life, and the moral blind spot it has created, is one of the great themes of Uncertain Ground , Phil Klay’s powerful series of reckonings with some of our country’s thorniest concerns, written in essay form over the past ten years. In the name of what do we ask young Americans to kill, and to die? In the name of what does this country hang together? As we see at every turn in these pages, those two questions have a great deal to do with each another, and how we answer them will go a long way toward deciding where our troubled country goes from here.
When Phil Klay left the Marines a decade ago after serving as an officer in Iraq, he found himself a part of the community of veterans who have no choice but to grapple with the meaning of their wartime experiences—for themselves and for the country. American identity has always been bound up in war—from the revolutionary war of our founding, to the civil war that ended slavery, to the two world wars that launched America as a superpower. What did the current wars say about who we are as a country, and how should we respond as citizens?
Unlike in previous eras of war, relatively few Americans have had to do any real grappling with the endless, invisible conflicts of the post-9/11 world; in fact, increasingly few people are even aware they are still going on. It is as if these wars are a dark star with a strong gravitational force that draws a relatively small number of soldiers and their families into its orbit while remaining inconspicuous to most other Americans. In the meantime, the consequences of American military action abroad may be out of sight and out of mind, but they are very real indeed.
This chasm between the military and the civilian in American life, and the moral blind spot it has created, is one of the great themes of Uncertain Ground , Phil Klay’s powerful series of reckonings with some of our country’s thorniest concerns, written in essay form over the past ten years. In the name of what do we ask young Americans to kill, and to die? In the name of what does this country hang together? As we see at every turn in these pages, those two questions have a great deal to do with each another, and how we answer them will go a long way toward deciding where our troubled country goes from here.
272 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2022
80 people are currently reading
1056 people want to read
About the author
Phil Klay
11 books460 followersPhil Klay is a veteran of the US Marine Corps. His short story collection Redeployment won the 2014 National Book Award for Fiction and the National Book Critics’ Circle John Leonard Prize for best debut work in any genre, and was selected as one of the 10 Best Books of 2014 by The New York Times. His nonfiction work won the George W. Hunt, S.J., Prize for Journalism, Arts & Letters in the category of Cultural & Historical Criticism in 2018. His writing has appeared in The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Wall Street Journal, The Atlantic, The New Yorker, and the Brookings Institution’s Brookings Essay series. He currently teaches fiction at Fairfield University.
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September 8, 2025
“Talking about American Wars, then, increasingly becomes like talking about Schrödinger’s cat. Outside the close black boxes of our military involvement overseas, the American public remains blissfully at peace until an American dies, and it turns out we were at war all along.”
In the hidden corners of our collective consciousness, where the cacophony of ideologies and the clamor of competing narratives linger, Phil Klay navigates the treacherous terrain of an age ensnared in an endless, invisible war. Uncertain Ground is a mosaic of essays—a patchwork quilt stitched from the fabric of war, citizenship, and the human spirit. Klay's words, like bullets fired from an M16, hit their mark: Short sentences – bursts of punctuated erudition. No room for sentimentality; only the “reality”, stark, unyielding, approaching the sacred in its terror…
“Break a vase, and the love that reassembles the fragments is stronger than that love which took its symmetry for granted when it was whole”. Derek Walcott
1. The Invisible War
“America’s military adventures around the world, take place ‘at such a low ebb that most Americans can pretend it isn’t happening.’” We sip our lattes, scroll through newsfeeds, and sip again, blissfully ignorant of the distant battlegrounds where lives decay like old maps. Pollical obfuscations and doublespeak rhetorics distort our views, cocooning our partisan self. When our own fall, we raise our heads, momentarily…Their blood stains the margins of our indifference. How can we understand our humanity, in relations to the killing done in our name? Have we failed as a nation to treat out wars as a collective responsibility rather than a special mission of a self-selected few?
2. The Commander in Chief’s Whisper
“No wonder our troops were having difficulty articulating why they were fighting… Their commander in chief couldn’t even bring himself to admit that we were still at war.” The nebulous enemy morphs into the familiar: America itself. Survival becomes the central mission, and the Taliban, al-Qaeda, and ISIS fade into the background. “It’s not the Taliban trying to kill you, it’s America.”
3. The Monasticism of Military Life
Klay’s monastic devotion to truth-telling mirrors the soldier’s discipline. “Like a novice monk,I was given new clothing, new standards of dress, a new haircut, as well as a distinct role within a broader community.” The barracks become cloisters, the rifle a rosary. Amidst the discord of war, rituals emerge—the folding of uniforms, the whispered prayers before patrols. The mundane becomes sacred; the sacred, mundane.
4. The Militarization of Culture
Klay dissects the militarization of culture, the easy access to military-grade weapons, and the paradox of a commander in chief who couldn’t admit that we were still at war. His words resonate with the clarity of a bugle call, urging us to confront our complicity in perpetuating the cycle of violence. “We’ve ended two wars,” President Obama declared, his words ricocheting off armored Humvees. “News to those on active duty,” Klay retorts. The culture absorbs the war machine—the camouflage seeping into our lexicon, the drone pilots commuting from cubicles. We wield military-grade weapons like talismans, and the line blurs: soldier, civilian, patriot, insurgent.
5. The Citizenship of the Dispossessed
Klay’s lens widens, focusing not only on the battlefield but also on the quiet sacrifices—the interpreters who bridged languages, the immigrants who pledged allegiance and bore arms; these unsung heroes, caught in the crossfire of geopolitical machinations, deported veterans—those who bled for a country that later discarded them. Their citizenship revoked, they wander the borderlands, ghosts in uniform. “What is Americanness?…Is it the oath sworn or the blood spilled?” The answer eludes us, slipping through the cracks of bureaucracy. “We are the warriors, but they—the civilians—are the witnesses.” Their eyes bear witness to our deeds—the rubble of bombed cities, the wailing of children. They ask questions we dare not voice: “Why?” and “For what?” The silence of civilians is a requiem—an elegy for innocence lost.
6. The Echoes of Absence
“In the silence between gunshots, we hear the ghosts of those who never returned.” Their names etched on marble, their stories whispered by the wind. The fallen are not mere statistics; they are the missing notes in our national anthem. We mourn them, but do we truly remember? The empty chairs at family dinners—their absence echoes louder than any battle cry. Does suffering provide a stage for an acquired experience that we could benefit? Faith becomes a place to register a sense of doubt.
7. The Lexicon of War
“War has its own language….IEDs, FOBs, KIA, PTSD.” Acronyms that carve themselves into our neural pathways. We speak them fluently, like a native tongue. But what of the untranslatable? The wordless scream of a comrade bleeding out, the taste of sand in your mouth as you crawl through a dust-choked alley. These are the syllables that haunt us.
8. The Aftermath of Valor
“Medals pinned to our chests, …we return home—heroes or hollow men?” The ticker tape parades fade, replaced by the quiet applause of strangers. The Purple Heart gleams, but the scars beneath remain unseen. “Valor,is not a currency that buys peace.” It’s a debt we carry, a ledger of sacrifice. Klay grapples with the moral risks of soldiering, the fragility of faith, and the dissonance between force and desired ends. Like a modern-day oracle, he challenges us to reckon with our own culpability.
9. The Art of Killing
The most important element is the shared commitment to the task: “We train for precision. The center mass, the headshot.” But war is chaos—an abstract canvas splattered with blood. “The enemy, is not a silhouette on a range.” The trigger pull—the moment of creation and destruction fused. The artist becomes the executioner, and the canvas is stained forever. As Hanna Arendt points out “The reason why were never able to foretell with certainty the outcome and the end of any action is simply that action has no end…”
“ It starts with the oath they swear to support and defend the constitution, an oath made not to a flag, or to a piece of ground , or to an ethnically distinct people, but to a set of principles established in our founding documents. An oath that demands a commitment to democracy, to liberty, to the rule of law, and to the self-evident equality of all men. The Marines I know fought, and some died, for these principles.”
4.6/5
In the hidden corners of our collective consciousness, where the cacophony of ideologies and the clamor of competing narratives linger, Phil Klay navigates the treacherous terrain of an age ensnared in an endless, invisible war. Uncertain Ground is a mosaic of essays—a patchwork quilt stitched from the fabric of war, citizenship, and the human spirit. Klay's words, like bullets fired from an M16, hit their mark: Short sentences – bursts of punctuated erudition. No room for sentimentality; only the “reality”, stark, unyielding, approaching the sacred in its terror…
“Break a vase, and the love that reassembles the fragments is stronger than that love which took its symmetry for granted when it was whole”. Derek Walcott
1. The Invisible War
“America’s military adventures around the world, take place ‘at such a low ebb that most Americans can pretend it isn’t happening.’” We sip our lattes, scroll through newsfeeds, and sip again, blissfully ignorant of the distant battlegrounds where lives decay like old maps. Pollical obfuscations and doublespeak rhetorics distort our views, cocooning our partisan self. When our own fall, we raise our heads, momentarily…Their blood stains the margins of our indifference. How can we understand our humanity, in relations to the killing done in our name? Have we failed as a nation to treat out wars as a collective responsibility rather than a special mission of a self-selected few?
2. The Commander in Chief’s Whisper
“No wonder our troops were having difficulty articulating why they were fighting… Their commander in chief couldn’t even bring himself to admit that we were still at war.” The nebulous enemy morphs into the familiar: America itself. Survival becomes the central mission, and the Taliban, al-Qaeda, and ISIS fade into the background. “It’s not the Taliban trying to kill you, it’s America.”
3. The Monasticism of Military Life
Klay’s monastic devotion to truth-telling mirrors the soldier’s discipline. “Like a novice monk,I was given new clothing, new standards of dress, a new haircut, as well as a distinct role within a broader community.” The barracks become cloisters, the rifle a rosary. Amidst the discord of war, rituals emerge—the folding of uniforms, the whispered prayers before patrols. The mundane becomes sacred; the sacred, mundane.
4. The Militarization of Culture
Klay dissects the militarization of culture, the easy access to military-grade weapons, and the paradox of a commander in chief who couldn’t admit that we were still at war. His words resonate with the clarity of a bugle call, urging us to confront our complicity in perpetuating the cycle of violence. “We’ve ended two wars,” President Obama declared, his words ricocheting off armored Humvees. “News to those on active duty,” Klay retorts. The culture absorbs the war machine—the camouflage seeping into our lexicon, the drone pilots commuting from cubicles. We wield military-grade weapons like talismans, and the line blurs: soldier, civilian, patriot, insurgent.
5. The Citizenship of the Dispossessed
Klay’s lens widens, focusing not only on the battlefield but also on the quiet sacrifices—the interpreters who bridged languages, the immigrants who pledged allegiance and bore arms; these unsung heroes, caught in the crossfire of geopolitical machinations, deported veterans—those who bled for a country that later discarded them. Their citizenship revoked, they wander the borderlands, ghosts in uniform. “What is Americanness?…Is it the oath sworn or the blood spilled?” The answer eludes us, slipping through the cracks of bureaucracy. “We are the warriors, but they—the civilians—are the witnesses.” Their eyes bear witness to our deeds—the rubble of bombed cities, the wailing of children. They ask questions we dare not voice: “Why?” and “For what?” The silence of civilians is a requiem—an elegy for innocence lost.
6. The Echoes of Absence
“In the silence between gunshots, we hear the ghosts of those who never returned.” Their names etched on marble, their stories whispered by the wind. The fallen are not mere statistics; they are the missing notes in our national anthem. We mourn them, but do we truly remember? The empty chairs at family dinners—their absence echoes louder than any battle cry. Does suffering provide a stage for an acquired experience that we could benefit? Faith becomes a place to register a sense of doubt.
7. The Lexicon of War
“War has its own language….IEDs, FOBs, KIA, PTSD.” Acronyms that carve themselves into our neural pathways. We speak them fluently, like a native tongue. But what of the untranslatable? The wordless scream of a comrade bleeding out, the taste of sand in your mouth as you crawl through a dust-choked alley. These are the syllables that haunt us.
8. The Aftermath of Valor
“Medals pinned to our chests, …we return home—heroes or hollow men?” The ticker tape parades fade, replaced by the quiet applause of strangers. The Purple Heart gleams, but the scars beneath remain unseen. “Valor,is not a currency that buys peace.” It’s a debt we carry, a ledger of sacrifice. Klay grapples with the moral risks of soldiering, the fragility of faith, and the dissonance between force and desired ends. Like a modern-day oracle, he challenges us to reckon with our own culpability.
9. The Art of Killing
The most important element is the shared commitment to the task: “We train for precision. The center mass, the headshot.” But war is chaos—an abstract canvas splattered with blood. “The enemy, is not a silhouette on a range.” The trigger pull—the moment of creation and destruction fused. The artist becomes the executioner, and the canvas is stained forever. As Hanna Arendt points out “The reason why were never able to foretell with certainty the outcome and the end of any action is simply that action has no end…”
“ It starts with the oath they swear to support and defend the constitution, an oath made not to a flag, or to a piece of ground , or to an ethnically distinct people, but to a set of principles established in our founding documents. An oath that demands a commitment to democracy, to liberty, to the rule of law, and to the self-evident equality of all men. The Marines I know fought, and some died, for these principles.”
4.6/5
September 1, 2022
Stunning, brilliant. Why are our leaders incapable of seeing war this way? Particularly our meaningless protracted engagements in Iraq and Afghanistan. Klay is a Marine (no longer active duty) but more importantly he is a person who thinks. He brings together Hannah Arendt, Franz Fanon, and St. Augustine to discuss how nations led through force always lose. He speaks of the disservice we do to veterans when when we shut down discussion with platitudes. He returns again and again to what it means that nearly no Americans fight in wars anymore, and how that has allowed Americans to ignore a 20 year war. He talks about how living without faith diminished him and about the comfort he got from his return to Catholicism. He talks about the shift in perspective he experienced when he had a child and realized what we were leaving him. The essays address huge issues of morality and political philosophy, and the quotidian experiences of service personnel and of fathers at the mall, but all the stories are in service to a central philosophy. It is so smart and so good and so readable. I recommend this to every American, but sadly few will read it and be forced to ask themselves the hard questions.
ETA: I forgot to mention the essay "A History of Violence" on the history of the AR-15. It was absolute genius.
ETA: I forgot to mention the essay "A History of Violence" on the history of the AR-15. It was absolute genius.
June 5, 2022
Phil Klay offers an incredibly thoughtful and intelligent collection of essays that examine where America’s “endless” wars since 9/11 have left us. He addresses the chaos of the wars and also the frustration and outrage that many Americans feel towards lawmakers who send soldiers to war without properly defining an achievable policy for what the mission must be overseas and what success will eventually look like. Sadly, as Klay says, “The past decades of war have shown mismanagement, incompetence, bald-faced lies, as well as forms of cruelty only a bit less bizarre than QAnon.”
If Americans aren’t dying on a foreign battlefield, Klay points out how few Americans at home seem to care about the fact that America’s wars are absolutely still ongoing. And yet these “invisible” wars that America remains entangled in keep killing countless people, many of whom are civilians, but these deaths don’t often register within the American conscience as tragedies of war because they aren’t American deaths. Nonetheless, America goes on killing people without any essential plan for ending the chaos and instability that sent us into war in the first place.
Klay expresses his clear-sightedness and alarm when he says, “If we choose to believe in a morally diminished America, an America that pursues its narrow, selfish interests and no more, we can take that course and see how far it gets us. But if we choose to believe that America is not just a set of borders, but a set of principles, we need to act accordingly. That is the only way we ensure that our founding document, and the principles embedded within, are alive enough, and honorable enough, to be worth fighting for.”
Klay also makes clear how war must have a purpose that can be objectified, and war’s mission must work to create a positive impact on the regions we fight in. Ultimately, the purpose of a war must define and foresee the benefits it brings to America for the deaths and killing that inevitably occur while we engage in war. He says, “We’re America. We’re good at violence. At fighting hard. Expelling insurgents from cities in Iraq or districts in Afghanistan. But we’re not good at making sure the violence leads to long-term stability.”
In every one of these illuminating essays, Klay conveys his concerns and humanity, and even if this extraordinary book may feel devoid of a political edge, his activism is present in the conscience he bears upon America’s predicament with the way we carry out war without considering the cost of never gaining much for all the death and destruction we inflict.
What Klay does exceptionally well is share how he transforms frustration and rage into constructive criticism that relies on gathering information and then examining the facts in efforts to offer insights about how to proceed. He says, “In a world where we are still at war, the most important question is, What do we do now? There the moral certainty of my rage must be met with humility about the limits of my knowledge.”
Klay’s open-mindedness is tremendous. He shares his knowledge with a self-awareness to never claim absolutism or certainty about something to the point where he thinks he has the authoritative solution to everything. Rather, his outstanding essays convey his quest to seek improvement and work towards progress. If anything can be spoken of with authority, Klay believes it must take in all possible ideas and consider a range of valid opinions and then steer them towards peace.
If Americans aren’t dying on a foreign battlefield, Klay points out how few Americans at home seem to care about the fact that America’s wars are absolutely still ongoing. And yet these “invisible” wars that America remains entangled in keep killing countless people, many of whom are civilians, but these deaths don’t often register within the American conscience as tragedies of war because they aren’t American deaths. Nonetheless, America goes on killing people without any essential plan for ending the chaos and instability that sent us into war in the first place.
Klay expresses his clear-sightedness and alarm when he says, “If we choose to believe in a morally diminished America, an America that pursues its narrow, selfish interests and no more, we can take that course and see how far it gets us. But if we choose to believe that America is not just a set of borders, but a set of principles, we need to act accordingly. That is the only way we ensure that our founding document, and the principles embedded within, are alive enough, and honorable enough, to be worth fighting for.”
Klay also makes clear how war must have a purpose that can be objectified, and war’s mission must work to create a positive impact on the regions we fight in. Ultimately, the purpose of a war must define and foresee the benefits it brings to America for the deaths and killing that inevitably occur while we engage in war. He says, “We’re America. We’re good at violence. At fighting hard. Expelling insurgents from cities in Iraq or districts in Afghanistan. But we’re not good at making sure the violence leads to long-term stability.”
In every one of these illuminating essays, Klay conveys his concerns and humanity, and even if this extraordinary book may feel devoid of a political edge, his activism is present in the conscience he bears upon America’s predicament with the way we carry out war without considering the cost of never gaining much for all the death and destruction we inflict.
What Klay does exceptionally well is share how he transforms frustration and rage into constructive criticism that relies on gathering information and then examining the facts in efforts to offer insights about how to proceed. He says, “In a world where we are still at war, the most important question is, What do we do now? There the moral certainty of my rage must be met with humility about the limits of my knowledge.”
Klay’s open-mindedness is tremendous. He shares his knowledge with a self-awareness to never claim absolutism or certainty about something to the point where he thinks he has the authoritative solution to everything. Rather, his outstanding essays convey his quest to seek improvement and work towards progress. If anything can be spoken of with authority, Klay believes it must take in all possible ideas and consider a range of valid opinions and then steer them towards peace.
August 26, 2022
Very good set of essays from one of my favorite writers on the War on Terror. The major theme here is the disconnect that many veterans feel between their long wars in far-flung places and the larger society that performs patriotism but pays almost no attention to those conflicts and doesn't bother to hold political leaders accountable for them. Klay notes the difference between serving in 2007-2008 and a decade later: even though the Iraq War was arguably at its peak level of violence in that period, Klay could at least look back at the US domestic sphere and see a robust, passionate debate about what we were doing there. For most of the next decade, however, that wasn't the case, and it has fed rightful anger and alienation among many veterans. He profiles a few who voted for Trump in 2016 just to A. prevent a hawkish Clinton from getting into the White House and B. hopefully get the US out of these wars (Trump didn't). Klay doesn't make a full-blown argument that the War on Terror is responsible for our recent political crises, but he shows that we should all be concerned about the gap between a small military % of the population and the rest of society that doesn't pay attention to and doesn't much care what they are asked to do overseas.
Klay makes a great point (one that I have always tried to emulate from the civilian side) that it really bothers him when civilians say "wow I could never imagine" when he tells them about his experiences in Iraq. Well, try! Try to imagine! Of course you can never literally have those experiences, but as a citizen you have a responsibility to relate as much as you can to other citizens, especially those whom our society asks to shoulder its greatest burdens. He also makes a great case that it is unfair and arguably un-American to act like civilian citizens shouldn't have opinions about our wars or can never disagree with veterans about them. What the heck else is the point of being a citizen!?!? Citizenship is an active, engaged, critical posture, and it is no less so for our wars than any other issue. Klay writes personally, movingly, and passionately about these and other key issues in a way that implicates our whole society, including both parties (although he clearly shares my ire at the unique cruelty of DJT and his followers).
I liked pretty much all of these essays, and I look forward to reading more of Klay in the future.
Klay makes a great point (one that I have always tried to emulate from the civilian side) that it really bothers him when civilians say "wow I could never imagine" when he tells them about his experiences in Iraq. Well, try! Try to imagine! Of course you can never literally have those experiences, but as a citizen you have a responsibility to relate as much as you can to other citizens, especially those whom our society asks to shoulder its greatest burdens. He also makes a great case that it is unfair and arguably un-American to act like civilian citizens shouldn't have opinions about our wars or can never disagree with veterans about them. What the heck else is the point of being a citizen!?!? Citizenship is an active, engaged, critical posture, and it is no less so for our wars than any other issue. Klay writes personally, movingly, and passionately about these and other key issues in a way that implicates our whole society, including both parties (although he clearly shares my ire at the unique cruelty of DJT and his followers).
I liked pretty much all of these essays, and I look forward to reading more of Klay in the future.
February 17, 2022
What a powerful book. Klay is an engaging, thoughtful, and skilled writer. These essays touched my heart and expanded my thinking. As someone who doesn't have any relatives or friends in the military, I appreciated his insights into what it has been like for the past decades. Americans of all political persuasions would do well to read this collection. Thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for the digital review copy.
October 16, 2022
This collection of twenty previously-published non-fiction essays by Marine veteran Phil Klay is one of the best books I've read all year. The essays, which are incredibly well written, are mostly on different aspects of the experience of modern American warfighters and veterans. Some of the power of Klay's writing is his ability to be deeply philosophical while remaining accessible and captivating.
I am very critical of the U.S military today, and what I perceive as its primary functions of lining the pockets of defense industry executives and meting out violence around the globe to uphold American imperialism. Yet, as an American citizen, I am deeply implicated in everything that it does: my criticisms and opposition don't absolve me of my responsibility for the military's actions, or responsibility to the people who are directly affected by it, whether they be American service members and veterans or the victims and casualties of the violence they carry out in my name. This is a tension Klay addresses throughout his essays. He is very critical of the lack of civilian/congressional oversight of U.S. wars, and especially the blank checks we regularly issue the President as commander-in-chief.
I met Klay at a speaking event to promote this book that was hosted at a local bookstore. It is clear he doesn't share my politics, ideology, or perspective on these issues, but that made me appreciate his thoughtful writing even more. Reading this book didn't change any of my views, but I think it made them better informed and less two-dimensional. Throughout the book, Klay draws on his own experiences and reflections, conversations with other service members and veterans, and a deep well of other books and articles that he's read about his subject matter. While all of the essays deal with war in some way, there is also a lot of range here, as suggested by the names of the four sections the essays are split into: "Soliders," "Citizens," "Writing," and "Faith." I was also impressed with how personally moving each of these essays are, and highly recommend this book to everyone, especially civilians like myself with no direct tie to the U.S. military. I will definitely be seeking out Klay's non-fiction writing in the future, as well as his short-story collection, Redeployment and novel, Missionaries.
There are a couple of essays I'd especially recommend, if you don't think you'll read this whole book:
"Citizen-Soldier: Moral Risk and the Modern Military" (May 24, 2016) - this was my favorite piece in the book.
"What We're Fighting For" (February 10, 2017) - about how the deterioration in the U.S. moral reputation started killing soldiers
"A History of Violence: How Firearms Have Grown More Deadly, One Innovation at a Time" (June 11, 2022) - this is an incredible historical look at how the marketing of guns has lead to their ubiquity in the U.S., as well as how they've become more dangerous.
And a few of my favorite quotes:
"But if you think the mission your country keeps sending you on is pointless or impossible and that you're only deploying to protect your brothers and sisters in arms from danger, then its not the Taliban or al-Qaeda or ISIS that's trying to kill you, it's America."
"There's a kind of emptiness inside me that tells me that I've still got something coming. It's not a pension that I'm looking for. What I paid out wasn't money; it was part of myself. I want to be paid back in kind, in something human." (quoting an anonymous veteran from a 1946 piece in Harper's
I am very critical of the U.S military today, and what I perceive as its primary functions of lining the pockets of defense industry executives and meting out violence around the globe to uphold American imperialism. Yet, as an American citizen, I am deeply implicated in everything that it does: my criticisms and opposition don't absolve me of my responsibility for the military's actions, or responsibility to the people who are directly affected by it, whether they be American service members and veterans or the victims and casualties of the violence they carry out in my name. This is a tension Klay addresses throughout his essays. He is very critical of the lack of civilian/congressional oversight of U.S. wars, and especially the blank checks we regularly issue the President as commander-in-chief.
I met Klay at a speaking event to promote this book that was hosted at a local bookstore. It is clear he doesn't share my politics, ideology, or perspective on these issues, but that made me appreciate his thoughtful writing even more. Reading this book didn't change any of my views, but I think it made them better informed and less two-dimensional. Throughout the book, Klay draws on his own experiences and reflections, conversations with other service members and veterans, and a deep well of other books and articles that he's read about his subject matter. While all of the essays deal with war in some way, there is also a lot of range here, as suggested by the names of the four sections the essays are split into: "Soliders," "Citizens," "Writing," and "Faith." I was also impressed with how personally moving each of these essays are, and highly recommend this book to everyone, especially civilians like myself with no direct tie to the U.S. military. I will definitely be seeking out Klay's non-fiction writing in the future, as well as his short-story collection, Redeployment and novel, Missionaries.
There are a couple of essays I'd especially recommend, if you don't think you'll read this whole book:
"Citizen-Soldier: Moral Risk and the Modern Military" (May 24, 2016) - this was my favorite piece in the book.
"What We're Fighting For" (February 10, 2017) - about how the deterioration in the U.S. moral reputation started killing soldiers
"A History of Violence: How Firearms Have Grown More Deadly, One Innovation at a Time" (June 11, 2022) - this is an incredible historical look at how the marketing of guns has lead to their ubiquity in the U.S., as well as how they've become more dangerous.
And a few of my favorite quotes:
"But if you think the mission your country keeps sending you on is pointless or impossible and that you're only deploying to protect your brothers and sisters in arms from danger, then its not the Taliban or al-Qaeda or ISIS that's trying to kill you, it's America."
"There's a kind of emptiness inside me that tells me that I've still got something coming. It's not a pension that I'm looking for. What I paid out wasn't money; it was part of myself. I want to be paid back in kind, in something human." (quoting an anonymous veteran from a 1946 piece in Harper's
August 17, 2023
I've read a lot of writing by fellow Iraq vets, but Phil Klay's Uncertain Ground is the first to make me weep. For me, only Brian Turner's My Life as a Foreign Country comes close. Like that book, Uncertain Ground rejects any easy good-vs.-evil narrative or idea of "just war." The reality is more complex, but it's certainly not morally gray.
Not until recent years did I start to come to terms with my time in Iraq. More than anything else, I couldn't explain away, rationalize, or resolve the feeling of knowingly participating in something morally injurious: I was part of a bad thing. Not until I admitted to someone close to me that "I feel complicit" did this tension begin to subside, and only by way of them confirming what I already knew: "Well, you were complicit." Finally, beyond any reactive, hollow patriotic fervor or cultural or political lionization of the military, here was someone willing to tell me the truth.
Phil Klay, like Brian Turner before him, is a truth-teller.
If anyone asks me why I will strongly discourage my children from pursuing military service, if anyone wonders why recruiting and retention are at record lows across the military branches, if anyone asks me why I left the Army after 15 years - I will point them to this book.
Because Phil says it far better than me:
Phil confronts the extreme suffering and misery inflicted upon Iraq's men, women, and children, perpetrated at such severity and scale as to defy justification, especially when so done in the name of an unnecessary and incompetently executed war. I challenge anyone to honestly use an anodyne term like "collateral damage" after reading some of the descriptions within.
As a military and by extension as a country, Phil tells us, we are complicit. Here he quotes the Navy chaplain Patrick McLaughlin:
All the rest of it is here too: the chasm between the military and rest of American citizenry, the failure and gross negligence of four presidential administrations, an eagerly anticipated collective amnesia to hurry and forget 20 years of Iraq and Afghanistan after the 2021 Kabul withdrawal, the violent streak that is an irrefutable part of American culture, the wars continuing in other places under other names with no end in sight...
It would be easy to descend into nihilism or cynicism at this point, but instead Phil devotes the latter portion of the book to healing and redemption: his faith, his children, engaged citizenship, writing, and building an identity and purpose not based on wearing a uniform. To fellow vets who feel no small disillusionment or bitterness about their time in the military or their experiences during deployment, you may find helpful the phenomenal essay "Man of War." I know I did.
That said, though, he ends with a warning. His last paragraph should be printed and distributed to every new recruit, every newly elected congressperson, every defense establishment worker or foreign policy wonk in the country:
Brutal, unflinching, crushing, cathartic, and ultimately hopeful. Essential reading.
From one Iraq vet to another, Phil, thank you for writing this.
Not until recent years did I start to come to terms with my time in Iraq. More than anything else, I couldn't explain away, rationalize, or resolve the feeling of knowingly participating in something morally injurious: I was part of a bad thing. Not until I admitted to someone close to me that "I feel complicit" did this tension begin to subside, and only by way of them confirming what I already knew: "Well, you were complicit." Finally, beyond any reactive, hollow patriotic fervor or cultural or political lionization of the military, here was someone willing to tell me the truth.
Phil Klay, like Brian Turner before him, is a truth-teller.
If anyone asks me why I will strongly discourage my children from pursuing military service, if anyone wonders why recruiting and retention are at record lows across the military branches, if anyone asks me why I left the Army after 15 years - I will point them to this book.
Because Phil says it far better than me:
The violence I have seen has left me feeling hollowed out, unable to gild all the agony with some beautiful meaning...it now seems absurd to cheaply suggest that it built toward any greater purpose, or paved the way for greater peace and prosperity, or that it is anything more than a net increase in the suffering and horror of a world awash in blood, or that there is even a realistic prospect for any kind of justice, some of kind restitution or payment or balancing out, even in a small way, for what has been erased. (p. 192)
Phil confronts the extreme suffering and misery inflicted upon Iraq's men, women, and children, perpetrated at such severity and scale as to defy justification, especially when so done in the name of an unnecessary and incompetently executed war. I challenge anyone to honestly use an anodyne term like "collateral damage" after reading some of the descriptions within.
As a military and by extension as a country, Phil tells us, we are complicit. Here he quotes the Navy chaplain Patrick McLaughlin:
As my anger boils over in righteous indignation, I know that none of us comes away clean - none of us walks away without blood on our hands - the blood of children on our hands from this war...urban warfare means children living in fear, children in tears, children orphaned, children wounded, and - God forgive us all - children killed. I will have to square my presence here in Iraq - my life in the military - with my soul and my God. (p. 196)
All the rest of it is here too: the chasm between the military and rest of American citizenry, the failure and gross negligence of four presidential administrations, an eagerly anticipated collective amnesia to hurry and forget 20 years of Iraq and Afghanistan after the 2021 Kabul withdrawal, the violent streak that is an irrefutable part of American culture, the wars continuing in other places under other names with no end in sight...
It would be easy to descend into nihilism or cynicism at this point, but instead Phil devotes the latter portion of the book to healing and redemption: his faith, his children, engaged citizenship, writing, and building an identity and purpose not based on wearing a uniform. To fellow vets who feel no small disillusionment or bitterness about their time in the military or their experiences during deployment, you may find helpful the phenomenal essay "Man of War." I know I did.
That said, though, he ends with a warning. His last paragraph should be printed and distributed to every new recruit, every newly elected congressperson, every defense establishment worker or foreign policy wonk in the country:
9/11 unified America. It overcame partisan divides, bound us together, and gave us the sense of common purpose so lacking in today's poisonous politics. And nothing that we have done as a nation has been so catastrophically destructive as what we did when we were enraptured by the warm glow of victimization and felt like we could do anything, together. (p. 237)
Brutal, unflinching, crushing, cathartic, and ultimately hopeful. Essential reading.
From one Iraq vet to another, Phil, thank you for writing this.
July 17, 2022
This is easily Phil Klay’s best writing to date. I never, ever say that about essay collections, because I don’t enjoy them. I prefer one, long, continuous story, premise or idea. But here, I found myself reaching for the highlighter, trying to ingrain many of his thoughts into my mind.
It’s certainly the most honest, direct, and clear perspective I’ve ever read on military history, maybe history in general. It transcends pro/con: with the underlying assumption that violence and war are terrible and traumatic, Klay examines the psychological, social, and emotional causes and effects of recent US military action, particularly in Afghanistan and Iraq. At times he uses personal anecdotes and feelings, not necessarily to make a point, but to illustrate and educate.
Perhaps I’ve got this wrong, but to me it seems Klay doesn’t want you to “rah-rah” and support the troops, nor does he want you to run out and protest. Instead, he invites us to examine our feelings and get involved in the discussion. There’s one whole chapter on just that subject, which is now loaded with pink ink (that was the only color highlighter I could find). He doesn’t rain down fire and brimstone and shame us all for not thinking of the many pervasive acts of war over the last twenty years, but rather states them out loud and gives us the information we need to be informed citizens. So the title is incredibly appropriate: he urges us to become active, involved citizens again.
I enjoyed Redeployment and Missionaries, but this is by far my favorite, the best non-fiction book I’ve read this year. The writing is evidence of an intelligent, forthright and empathic personality. A must-read.
It’s certainly the most honest, direct, and clear perspective I’ve ever read on military history, maybe history in general. It transcends pro/con: with the underlying assumption that violence and war are terrible and traumatic, Klay examines the psychological, social, and emotional causes and effects of recent US military action, particularly in Afghanistan and Iraq. At times he uses personal anecdotes and feelings, not necessarily to make a point, but to illustrate and educate.
Perhaps I’ve got this wrong, but to me it seems Klay doesn’t want you to “rah-rah” and support the troops, nor does he want you to run out and protest. Instead, he invites us to examine our feelings and get involved in the discussion. There’s one whole chapter on just that subject, which is now loaded with pink ink (that was the only color highlighter I could find). He doesn’t rain down fire and brimstone and shame us all for not thinking of the many pervasive acts of war over the last twenty years, but rather states them out loud and gives us the information we need to be informed citizens. So the title is incredibly appropriate: he urges us to become active, involved citizens again.
I enjoyed Redeployment and Missionaries, but this is by far my favorite, the best non-fiction book I’ve read this year. The writing is evidence of an intelligent, forthright and empathic personality. A must-read.
November 28, 2021
Thank you to NetGalley for providing this ARC in exchange for an honest review.
This book is made up of a series of essays that the author wrote over the course of the Obama and Trump administrations. He has ambitious goals in his writing as he grapples with figuring out how we got involved in a war that just kept going; what war meant to him personally; what war says about Americans; how the war(s) have distorted our politics and culture; how politics have shifted to shield war from our view; how war relates to questions of faith; how we respond to collective and individual trauma and how to reckon with guilt and atonement.
Klay touches on each of these aspects throughout his essays and he shares plenty of stories regarding the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. His writing is clear and heartfelt as he talks about his views/feelings about the wars.
Unfortunately, I couldn't give this book more than 3/5 stars. I didn't really learn anything new or gain a better insight into the conflicts and people involved. I'm a bit of a news junkie so I was already aware of many of the issues discussed in his essays. Also, I would have appreciated some links/advice to veterans looking for help rather than primarily focusing on the hopelessness and disappointment of postwar America.
This book is made up of a series of essays that the author wrote over the course of the Obama and Trump administrations. He has ambitious goals in his writing as he grapples with figuring out how we got involved in a war that just kept going; what war meant to him personally; what war says about Americans; how the war(s) have distorted our politics and culture; how politics have shifted to shield war from our view; how war relates to questions of faith; how we respond to collective and individual trauma and how to reckon with guilt and atonement.
Klay touches on each of these aspects throughout his essays and he shares plenty of stories regarding the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. His writing is clear and heartfelt as he talks about his views/feelings about the wars.
Unfortunately, I couldn't give this book more than 3/5 stars. I didn't really learn anything new or gain a better insight into the conflicts and people involved. I'm a bit of a news junkie so I was already aware of many of the issues discussed in his essays. Also, I would have appreciated some links/advice to veterans looking for help rather than primarily focusing on the hopelessness and disappointment of postwar America.
August 7, 2023
Phil Klay's essays centering mainly on U.S. involvement in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are an insightful, compelling collection. They remind me so much of Tim O'Brien's *The Things They Carried* in their tone and use of language yet are updated to reflect the realities of American society's challenges in the wake of the war Klay says has never ended despite politicians' statements that it has. Klay makes observations from his position as a Marine Corps officer in a journalist capacity and leans into rather than shies away from the truths that Americans find uncomfortable. Several of the essays I marked to read again and again, and most are short, which, though I'm sure this was not Klay's intention, accommodates contemporary Americans' attention span. I have already recommended this book or at least several of the essays for my colleagues teaching O'Brien's text and am considering ways I can incorporate it into my own teaching practice. I strongly recommend this essay collection.
January 21, 2025
WARNING: SOME UNIDIOMATIC ENGLISH FOLLOWS.
Phil Klay is the author of Redeployment, which is a collection of short stories about US military personnel during the war in Iraq, and I have not read it. I have read his next fictional work, the novel, Missionaries, which brings together several plots about US soldiers in Iraq, Colombian drug traffickers, Colombian campesinos trying to live through the years of drug cartel and guerrilla activity, and a Colombian military officer and his daughter, a leftish student. That novel moves between these regions and characters, illustrating the sort of endless low-level war fought with high technology operated by US military personnel and contractors throughout the world. It illustrates the kind of endless military activity the US pursues in about 150 countries around the world, activity which very few North Americans know about or even care about.
Uncertain Ground is a collection of essays that Klaw wrote between 2010 and 2021 about the US war in Iraq. A graduate of Dartmouth, Klay joined the US Marine Corps in 2005, and he was deployed to Iraq, where he served as a newsman for the Marines, and, as an officer, served as the commander of a small group of other Marine newspeople. He is the first to admit that he did not experience the combat that Marine infantry units experienced. Since his post had a field hospital, he witnessed the results of the war on the bodies of Iraqi civilians (and children), Iraqi soldiers and insurrectionaries, and US soldiers.
That material reinforces how horrible modern warfare can be, but it also illustrates the honor of doctors who fought to save the wounded, including Americans, their allies. civilians, and the Iraqi enemy. (Why the enemy? Because treating them also and equally is US policy.) He also writes of the Marines who would form long lines to donate blood for the wounded, and of a chaplain who rocked wounded children in his arms, sometimes for hours, to comfort them as they were dying.
Those passages made a deep impression on me, but are not the only focus of the book. Klay returns many times to certain themes, but especially of the failures that are inevitable during seemingly endless wars, when the leadership of the country is unable to formulate specific goals for the military, or goals that do not apply to the actual situation on the ground. The Marine Corps he describes is able to accomplish extremely difficult missions, but the lives of the soldiers are put in danger for no good reason when the aim of the war is unclear.
Klay also discusses the failure of Americans at home to do their civic duty to participate at an informed level as citizens to influence the government to do its job. He is certain that as citizens we should not forget the very few who actually fight the wars (as it seems Americans did during the Afghan and Iraqi wars). He calls for concern and activity from citizens in the public square to help formulate policy.
Klay has some very interesting and well thought out points of view on discussions that take place during wartime. He objects to the position of some generals and other soldiers that only people who've been in a particular war can understand it, and that civilians should therefore not venture to express their opinions on the war; he finds this attitude unproductive and contrary to ideas of citizenship in a democracy.
Klay also discusses the misconceptions that some civilians have about returned soldiers. They do not all suffer from PTSD, and they do not always need civilians to go on about how they can never understand what the soldier experienced. He brings up a few times the image of a war veteran and a civilian encountering each other, and says that they can not understand each other at first, but that they can reach a higher level of mutual understanding is they make a serious effort. And he writes that they should.
I wasn't aware until I reached the last section of this book that Klay is a very religious person and well-educated as a Roman Catholic. He discusses how the war led to internal struggles with his beliefs, and on a very sophisticated level how he has contended with them. (The level of sophistication is perhaps a bit high for me.)
in this book and in Missionaries, Klay leaves us aware that in the future the US will be involved in conflicts seemingly everywhere -- which is not a good thing -- and that we will not always even know what is happening in what he refers to as these "invisible wars." I took away from these books, however, the idea that we must strive to know what the US is doing everywhere, as much as we can, so that we will be able to fulfill our duties as civilians.
Phil Klay is the author of Redeployment, which is a collection of short stories about US military personnel during the war in Iraq, and I have not read it. I have read his next fictional work, the novel, Missionaries, which brings together several plots about US soldiers in Iraq, Colombian drug traffickers, Colombian campesinos trying to live through the years of drug cartel and guerrilla activity, and a Colombian military officer and his daughter, a leftish student. That novel moves between these regions and characters, illustrating the sort of endless low-level war fought with high technology operated by US military personnel and contractors throughout the world. It illustrates the kind of endless military activity the US pursues in about 150 countries around the world, activity which very few North Americans know about or even care about.
Uncertain Ground is a collection of essays that Klaw wrote between 2010 and 2021 about the US war in Iraq. A graduate of Dartmouth, Klay joined the US Marine Corps in 2005, and he was deployed to Iraq, where he served as a newsman for the Marines, and, as an officer, served as the commander of a small group of other Marine newspeople. He is the first to admit that he did not experience the combat that Marine infantry units experienced. Since his post had a field hospital, he witnessed the results of the war on the bodies of Iraqi civilians (and children), Iraqi soldiers and insurrectionaries, and US soldiers.
That material reinforces how horrible modern warfare can be, but it also illustrates the honor of doctors who fought to save the wounded, including Americans, their allies. civilians, and the Iraqi enemy. (Why the enemy? Because treating them also and equally is US policy.) He also writes of the Marines who would form long lines to donate blood for the wounded, and of a chaplain who rocked wounded children in his arms, sometimes for hours, to comfort them as they were dying.
Those passages made a deep impression on me, but are not the only focus of the book. Klay returns many times to certain themes, but especially of the failures that are inevitable during seemingly endless wars, when the leadership of the country is unable to formulate specific goals for the military, or goals that do not apply to the actual situation on the ground. The Marine Corps he describes is able to accomplish extremely difficult missions, but the lives of the soldiers are put in danger for no good reason when the aim of the war is unclear.
Klay also discusses the failure of Americans at home to do their civic duty to participate at an informed level as citizens to influence the government to do its job. He is certain that as citizens we should not forget the very few who actually fight the wars (as it seems Americans did during the Afghan and Iraqi wars). He calls for concern and activity from citizens in the public square to help formulate policy.
Klay has some very interesting and well thought out points of view on discussions that take place during wartime. He objects to the position of some generals and other soldiers that only people who've been in a particular war can understand it, and that civilians should therefore not venture to express their opinions on the war; he finds this attitude unproductive and contrary to ideas of citizenship in a democracy.
Klay also discusses the misconceptions that some civilians have about returned soldiers. They do not all suffer from PTSD, and they do not always need civilians to go on about how they can never understand what the soldier experienced. He brings up a few times the image of a war veteran and a civilian encountering each other, and says that they can not understand each other at first, but that they can reach a higher level of mutual understanding is they make a serious effort. And he writes that they should.
I wasn't aware until I reached the last section of this book that Klay is a very religious person and well-educated as a Roman Catholic. He discusses how the war led to internal struggles with his beliefs, and on a very sophisticated level how he has contended with them. (The level of sophistication is perhaps a bit high for me.)
in this book and in Missionaries, Klay leaves us aware that in the future the US will be involved in conflicts seemingly everywhere -- which is not a good thing -- and that we will not always even know what is happening in what he refers to as these "invisible wars." I took away from these books, however, the idea that we must strive to know what the US is doing everywhere, as much as we can, so that we will be able to fulfill our duties as civilians.
September 5, 2022
UNCERTAIN GROUND proves Phil Klay's nonfiction stories of the Iraq War and its aftermath are no less compelling than the fiction stories he's written (which, in their first collection, REDEPLOYMENT, won the National Book Award). Unlike that collection, however, which did largely focus directly on soldiers and their experiences in and surrounding the war, the focus broadens to a variety of secondary or tertiary subjects as well as war experiences: These include but are not limited to conflicts of faith, Klay's uncertainty over his views of the war in a political sense, the history of firearm development, the rise and fall of the Islamic State jihadist movement, an internal debate over the role of trauma as a formative experience, wartime literature and more.
Arguably the high point of the collection is its only (as best I can tell from the galley's copyright page) previously unpublished piece: "A History of Violence," which charts firearm homicides in the U.S. from the very first of its kind (a pistol shooting of a single man in 1630) to the Vegas massacre of 2017 (58 dead and more than 420 wounded in barely 10 minutes, with two more dying from their wounds later). Klay thoroughly and surgically tears the arguments of the pro-2A movement to shreds without even directly aiming to. He simply illuminates that gun sales are more the result of marketing and racism than any societal conditions actually creating a need for the public to possess AR-15s. None of this is about war as Klay experienced it, but it makes perfect sense that he would write it: A soldier might be capable of persuading a civilian "gun rights activist" that they've been systematically lied to. Maybe.
Elsewhere, Klay tackles the rise and fall of former DEVGRU (commonly known as SEAL Team Six) operative Eric Greitens, who attempted to parlay his warfighter background into a Republican political career and was undone as much by opportunistic lies as the hideous, credible sexual assault allegations against him. This is one area where Klay's lack of blatant political partisanship serves him well: As he is, as best I can tell, some form of centrist, his analysis of the situation cannot be written off as partisanship by GOP critics. (Along those lines, he doesn't directly attack Robert O'Neill, the supposed DEVGRU soldier and right-wing Twitter troll who claims to have shot Osama Bin Laden and was a supporter of Greitens until convenience departed the situation, but the few lines he spends on the man are enough to indicate he may share the doubts many have about O'Neill's contribution to the UBL mission.)
If there's one area where the book falters, it may also be the result of Klay's tendency toward the apolitical. His essay "Public Rage Won't Solve Our Problems," while well-intentioned in its criticism of polemical political criticism that tends to be Manichean about good and bad, also stumbles because of its belief that the "civility politics" so beloved by centrists can still work. (In fairness to the writer, the essay was from 2018, before the protests that shook 2020 showed their necessity; in criticism, Klay and his publisher chose to include this essay knowing it likely wouldn't read as well in 2022.)
Nevertheless, UNCERTAIN GROUND is still an extremely engaging read and often a thought-provoking one, just as Klay's fiction collection was. His voice is an essential one in this strange era of forever wars.
Arguably the high point of the collection is its only (as best I can tell from the galley's copyright page) previously unpublished piece: "A History of Violence," which charts firearm homicides in the U.S. from the very first of its kind (a pistol shooting of a single man in 1630) to the Vegas massacre of 2017 (58 dead and more than 420 wounded in barely 10 minutes, with two more dying from their wounds later). Klay thoroughly and surgically tears the arguments of the pro-2A movement to shreds without even directly aiming to. He simply illuminates that gun sales are more the result of marketing and racism than any societal conditions actually creating a need for the public to possess AR-15s. None of this is about war as Klay experienced it, but it makes perfect sense that he would write it: A soldier might be capable of persuading a civilian "gun rights activist" that they've been systematically lied to. Maybe.
Elsewhere, Klay tackles the rise and fall of former DEVGRU (commonly known as SEAL Team Six) operative Eric Greitens, who attempted to parlay his warfighter background into a Republican political career and was undone as much by opportunistic lies as the hideous, credible sexual assault allegations against him. This is one area where Klay's lack of blatant political partisanship serves him well: As he is, as best I can tell, some form of centrist, his analysis of the situation cannot be written off as partisanship by GOP critics. (Along those lines, he doesn't directly attack Robert O'Neill, the supposed DEVGRU soldier and right-wing Twitter troll who claims to have shot Osama Bin Laden and was a supporter of Greitens until convenience departed the situation, but the few lines he spends on the man are enough to indicate he may share the doubts many have about O'Neill's contribution to the UBL mission.)
If there's one area where the book falters, it may also be the result of Klay's tendency toward the apolitical. His essay "Public Rage Won't Solve Our Problems," while well-intentioned in its criticism of polemical political criticism that tends to be Manichean about good and bad, also stumbles because of its belief that the "civility politics" so beloved by centrists can still work. (In fairness to the writer, the essay was from 2018, before the protests that shook 2020 showed their necessity; in criticism, Klay and his publisher chose to include this essay knowing it likely wouldn't read as well in 2022.)
Nevertheless, UNCERTAIN GROUND is still an extremely engaging read and often a thought-provoking one, just as Klay's fiction collection was. His voice is an essential one in this strange era of forever wars.
September 30, 2022
Phil Klay is an unusual writer, in that he doesn't wow you with marvelous turns of phrase, but he communicates clearly and calmly and apolitically, as he describes himself in one of his essays. On the surface, he lacks that fiery emotional punch that many look for in essays, particularly essays that ask sharp questions about Americans' lack of interest or concern in the wars that have been waged in their name. I found this collection very thought-provoking and was surprised by how moved I was when reading the essays he wrote on faith. War literature is something that I enjoy but only sporadically. The little bit that I do read, I love, but it makes me think and feel in deep and uncomfortable ways. Phil Klay comes highly recommended from me.
December 31, 2024
An excellent writer who brought me quite a few fresh perspectives on war/soldiering and the mental health challenges involved. Holding back from a 5 star rating because a lot of the material feels dated at this point and there is also repetition (these are essays written over the years so that is understandable)
August 1, 2022
It’s not often that I’m ready to reread a collection of essays right after finishing them, but this book is one of those rare occasions. An intense and humane reflection on our Forever Wars and what it means to be an American. I’ll recommend it to everyone.
April 13, 2024
This is a really compelling collection of essays about the nature of modern warfare and the consequences to both soldiers and civilians of America's 'forever wars' being kept largely out of sight for the average citizen.
April 21, 2024
Great writing as always, but I probably didn’t give these essays the headspace they deserved
June 28, 2023
These essays are very well-written and thoughtful, and at the end of the day more hopeful and balanced than one might expect. The author is an Iraq vet, and also a committed reader of history and fiction and a Catholic who grapples with the meaning of his faith.
Klay takes on a lot of important issues, like how our country hides the wars that we are involved in from its own citizens (war is never declared, rarely debated in Congress, etc), how we stereotype veterans, how we as citizens tend to step back from the burden of guilt and moral trauma for what our country has done and left undone, and attempt to project it onto the 1% of the population that has served. All important and worth reading.
My main issue with Uncertain Ground is with the presentation and organization. I would like to know how these essays hold together, how they are meant to support each other, or at least how they were selected.
On the whole this read was important and eye-opening and left me wanting to read more by Phil Klay.
Klay takes on a lot of important issues, like how our country hides the wars that we are involved in from its own citizens (war is never declared, rarely debated in Congress, etc), how we stereotype veterans, how we as citizens tend to step back from the burden of guilt and moral trauma for what our country has done and left undone, and attempt to project it onto the 1% of the population that has served. All important and worth reading.
My main issue with Uncertain Ground is with the presentation and organization. I would like to know how these essays hold together, how they are meant to support each other, or at least how they were selected.
On the whole this read was important and eye-opening and left me wanting to read more by Phil Klay.
February 21, 2022
Phil Klay's latest is a collection of nonfiction essays about war, citizenship and what it means to live in a country that's been continuously at war for two decades when most of the American public is oblivious to or indifferent about that fact. This was a really insightful read, and if you're familiar with Klay's work from the short story collection Redeployment, you'll find the same thoughtfulness about the meaning of war and the obligation of civilians to consider the moral dimension of war familiar. That said, the nature of an essay collection on one topic is that there's a fair bit of repetition between some of the essays, and I found myself getting a little tired of some of the threads that felt similar between pieces. Klay's greatest strength is in pushing civilians to consider both what war is like and why we're able to distance ourselves from it, and I think this collection accomplishes that admirably.
January 14, 2023
I really appreciated his earlier book, Redeployment. This one had moments of even greater brilliance.
For example, he speaks of Ashley Babbitt, a two-tour veteran, who was shot on January 6 2021 while attacking the Capitol.
Later,
I’m quoting so extensively because I find his writing to be layered with political meaning and importance, while yet remaining nonpartisan and objective in a very practical and experientally-grounded way. Importantly for me, he carefully and explicitly debunks the often-implicit idea that only actual combat veterans can have legitimate opinions about our foreign policy, and especially, our foreign combat roles. Similarly, he debunks the stereotype of the combat veteran as being, by definition, plagued by PTSD. His reflections are so nuanced and cerebral that sometimes it is hard to pin down exactly what, if indeed it is any one thing, he is saying. But whatever it is, it sure is compelling.
For example, he speaks of Ashley Babbitt, a two-tour veteran, who was shot on January 6 2021 while attacking the Capitol.
After previously voting for Barack Obama, she became a Trump supporter and follower of the Q-anon conspiracy theory, ultimately joining the crowd that broke into the Capitol, beating and injuring police officers, and storming the halls of Congress only moments after the chambers had been evacuated. “Nothing will stop us,” she had written in a social media post the day before. “They can try and try and try, but the storm is here and is descending upon DC.” She was shot while climbing onto a ledge near a locked door the insurrectionists were trying to get through. …
What a thrill it must have been for Babbitt in the moments before she died. How much more meaningful than the frustrating, indeterminate war she fought in, it must have been, to have a simple, clear enemy, and a simple, clear mission: to take Congress, and make them reinstate President Trump by force. It’s easy to dismiss Babbitt as a loon, but her beliefs were a distilled paranoid version of a not-so-unreasonable distrust of American elites. The past decades of war have shown mismanagement, incompetence, bald-faced lies, as well as forms of cruelty only a bit less bizarre than Q-anon: such as the CIA’s use of hummus enemas as a form of torture. The sense that our leadership class can be corrupt, or ineffectual, or malevolent, or callous, or blindly self-interested is well-founded. The power of that distrust was driven home for me a few weeks before the 2016 election. [fellow Marine Trump voter who saw Hillary as a foreign-policy hawk]. The groomsman preferred even an incompetent and inconstant resistance to our wars, over the competent expansion of them, since the downside of the latter could be measured in tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of lives.
Later,
I’ve written about military policy under both President Obama, and President Trump. I’ve questioned what we’re doing and tried to write about what flawed policy looks and feels like, to those tasked with carrying it out. To me, this is inescapably and obviously engaged political speech. But to my friend, a smart guy who nevertheless spends a surprisingly large amount of time trying to come up with inventive ways to crassly insult his political enemies, there was something lacking. Something to do with my inclination to be “unfailingly polite,” as he called it. I try to avoid making personal attacks, or casting my arguments in the typical good/evil binary of partisan politics. My friend is a veteran of a tough deployment to Afghanistan. He’s acutely conscious of how thin our public discussion of the wars has been. And, more than anything, he’s acutely conscious of the ways our collective failure as a society, to demand serious oversight of the wars, has direct, physical, violent impact on people we know and care about.
If you look back on the human waste of the past 17 years and are not filled with rage, is there not something wrong with you? And if you want to be honest in public debate, if you don’t want to engage in the kind of lies and obfuscations and double-speak proliferating across our body politic, don’t you have to let that rage slip into your speech? It’s a fair point. Rage seems like a perfectly natural, and justified, response to our broader political dysfunction. From healthcare, to tax policy, to climate change, we are failing to meaningfully address issues whose impact can be measured in human lives. And invitations to civil debate can sometimes be nothing more than a con, carried out by malign actors within the system. The conservative entertainer Ann Coulter used to play a game, where she’d say something horrible, and then, when questioned about it, shift to a thinly connected but defensible argument. Like when she claimed on the Today Show that she’d written that a group of politically active 9/11 widows were “enjoying their husband’s deaths,” only to call attention to how they were “using their grief in order to make a political point.” The game, one suspects, is less about sparking political debate, than indulging in a kind of performative contempt. So why play that game, when the simple extension of a middle finger is both easier and more honest? It will, at the very least, be more fun.
But performative rage is fun for both sides… Rage is a dangerous emotion, not simply because it can be destructive, but because it can be so easily satisfied with cheap targets. Like my friend who picks fights online, I’m a veteran. I know people who have been injured or killed overseas… and yes, it fills me with rage. But if that rage is to mean anything, it means I cannot distract myself with the illusion of adjudicating past wrongs with artfully-phrased putdowns. In a world where we are still at war, the most important question is, “what do we do now?” There, the moral certainty of my rage must be met with humility about the limits of my knowledge.
I’m quoting so extensively because I find his writing to be layered with political meaning and importance, while yet remaining nonpartisan and objective in a very practical and experientally-grounded way. Importantly for me, he carefully and explicitly debunks the often-implicit idea that only actual combat veterans can have legitimate opinions about our foreign policy, and especially, our foreign combat roles. Similarly, he debunks the stereotype of the combat veteran as being, by definition, plagued by PTSD. His reflections are so nuanced and cerebral that sometimes it is hard to pin down exactly what, if indeed it is any one thing, he is saying. But whatever it is, it sure is compelling.
February 25, 2023
Thank you, NetGalley, for granting me a free copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.
Uncertain Ground: Citizenship in an Age of Endless, Invisible War was a difficult read, and one that I struggled to finish. It was by no means bad, but the heavy subject matter--war in the Middle East and the veteran experience--does not make for a breezy read. Uncertain Ground is a collection of previously published essays written by Phil Klay, an Iraq War veteran. Klay contemplates the strange juxtaposition of living in a country that has been at war for longer than two decades yet is all but completely shielded from it, along with ruminations on morality, faith, trauma, and whether any of this was worth it. He takes both the Obama and Trump administrations to task for their failures and misunderstandings, and examines the way the military has been both embraced and forgotten by politicians and civilians alike. From early on in Uncertain Ground, there are two major takeaways that come to the forefront:
1. You must experience war in order to understand it
2. War effects everyone differently, and there is no consensus on what it's like
If this strikes you as a bit of a conundrum--how can a civilian ever hope to learn anything about veterans' experiences if they themselves are unsure?--then you're not alone. Klay himself is uncertain of what any of this means, or even of how he feels about his experiences as a soldier. Generally humble in his approach, Klay is constantly amending his thoughts, adding qualifiers, and acknowledging all the soldiers he's met who would disagree with him. While it's hard not to respect Klay's honesty, this makes it difficult to get a firm handle on what it is he's trying to convey. Further complicating this is the book's organization, which sorts the essays by theme rather than chronologically, and therefore prevents the audience from deducing if Klay's opinions have changed over time, or if it has more to do with how he's feeling in that particular moment. The subtext that there is no unified war story carries shades of Tim O'Brien--except, that is, for when he critiques O'Brien outright.
This indecisiveness reaches a head with the same topic that often haunts war memoirs: civilians. Although Klay is upfront about his indecision and often chastises others for thinking too harshly of people who have never served, he nevertheless falls into the same pitfalls that so many other writers in his shoes do, inadvertently creating the implication that the people back home are the true villains responsible for soldiers' suffering. But if Klay is willing to examine the resentment some in uniform have for those who have never served, the results only manage to dig a deeper hole. Civilians are "at the mall" while people abroad fight and die, but any outward display of gratitude is simply a hollow gesture. Americans support politicians who escalate conflict, but when they vote for someone who promises peace (as both Obama and Trump did) it doesn't matter, because they never deliver on their word. Praising soldiers' valor ignores their trauma, but showing sympathy is patronizing. No matter what civilians do to try to convey their support, they're doing it wrong, and Klay has no suggestion for how to fix this that he does not immediately contradict in the next essay.
All of this makes for an ultimately bleak tale, which is perhaps the point, when all is said and done. There is no denying Uncertain Ground's relevance as a war memoir. But anyone looking for some kind of resolution is unlikely to find it here.
Uncertain Ground: Citizenship in an Age of Endless, Invisible War was a difficult read, and one that I struggled to finish. It was by no means bad, but the heavy subject matter--war in the Middle East and the veteran experience--does not make for a breezy read. Uncertain Ground is a collection of previously published essays written by Phil Klay, an Iraq War veteran. Klay contemplates the strange juxtaposition of living in a country that has been at war for longer than two decades yet is all but completely shielded from it, along with ruminations on morality, faith, trauma, and whether any of this was worth it. He takes both the Obama and Trump administrations to task for their failures and misunderstandings, and examines the way the military has been both embraced and forgotten by politicians and civilians alike. From early on in Uncertain Ground, there are two major takeaways that come to the forefront:
1. You must experience war in order to understand it
2. War effects everyone differently, and there is no consensus on what it's like
If this strikes you as a bit of a conundrum--how can a civilian ever hope to learn anything about veterans' experiences if they themselves are unsure?--then you're not alone. Klay himself is uncertain of what any of this means, or even of how he feels about his experiences as a soldier. Generally humble in his approach, Klay is constantly amending his thoughts, adding qualifiers, and acknowledging all the soldiers he's met who would disagree with him. While it's hard not to respect Klay's honesty, this makes it difficult to get a firm handle on what it is he's trying to convey. Further complicating this is the book's organization, which sorts the essays by theme rather than chronologically, and therefore prevents the audience from deducing if Klay's opinions have changed over time, or if it has more to do with how he's feeling in that particular moment. The subtext that there is no unified war story carries shades of Tim O'Brien--except, that is, for when he critiques O'Brien outright.
This indecisiveness reaches a head with the same topic that often haunts war memoirs: civilians. Although Klay is upfront about his indecision and often chastises others for thinking too harshly of people who have never served, he nevertheless falls into the same pitfalls that so many other writers in his shoes do, inadvertently creating the implication that the people back home are the true villains responsible for soldiers' suffering. But if Klay is willing to examine the resentment some in uniform have for those who have never served, the results only manage to dig a deeper hole. Civilians are "at the mall" while people abroad fight and die, but any outward display of gratitude is simply a hollow gesture. Americans support politicians who escalate conflict, but when they vote for someone who promises peace (as both Obama and Trump did) it doesn't matter, because they never deliver on their word. Praising soldiers' valor ignores their trauma, but showing sympathy is patronizing. No matter what civilians do to try to convey their support, they're doing it wrong, and Klay has no suggestion for how to fix this that he does not immediately contradict in the next essay.
All of this makes for an ultimately bleak tale, which is perhaps the point, when all is said and done. There is no denying Uncertain Ground's relevance as a war memoir. But anyone looking for some kind of resolution is unlikely to find it here.
July 14, 2022
This sobering collection of essays conveys a believable and non-partisan perspective on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan from the experiences of the author, a veteran of the U.S. Marine Corps, and delivers piercing criticism and concern.
Because each of the the stand-alone pieces are arranged thematically rather than chronologically, the narrative flow at first was confusing, until I was careful to look at the dates at the beginning of each "chapter." Soldiers, Citizens, Writings, and Faith are the sections, and each section has from three to seven essays laid out as chapters. Once I understood the gist of the format, I skipped around.
The essay "The History of Violence" (no date) will stick with me the longest, specifically the explanation and graphic descriptions of the small bullet typical of the AR-15 (M16) pioneered by Eugene Stoner and the kind of internal wounds caused by its instability once it penetrates human flesh, and the damage it does to internal organs.
Another essay I recommend is "Public Rage Won't Solve Any of Our Problems" from 2018. On page 178:
"I'll never forget the journalist Nir Rosen, who's become something of a darling of the antiwar left for his well-informed criticisms of US. Middle East policy, delivering a blistering attack in front of the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations two months after I returned from Iraq. Everything we had done during the thirteen months I'd spent overseas, it seemed, was morally corrupt, counterproductive and dangerous. But when then-Senator Joe Biden put the ball in Rosen's court by asking, 'Based on what you've said, there's really no hope, we should just get the hell out of there right now, right?' Rosen was stumped. He admitted that he didn't actually know what should be done, that withdrawal might lead to a spike in sectarian violence and that 'it could be Rwanda the day the Americans leave.' As a knowledgeable observer of a complex war, Rosen knew enough, despite his first impulse, to know that he didi't have the answers."
You don't have to read the whole book to understand how demoralized the US military has become, and why.
Because each of the the stand-alone pieces are arranged thematically rather than chronologically, the narrative flow at first was confusing, until I was careful to look at the dates at the beginning of each "chapter." Soldiers, Citizens, Writings, and Faith are the sections, and each section has from three to seven essays laid out as chapters. Once I understood the gist of the format, I skipped around.
The essay "The History of Violence" (no date) will stick with me the longest, specifically the explanation and graphic descriptions of the small bullet typical of the AR-15 (M16) pioneered by Eugene Stoner and the kind of internal wounds caused by its instability once it penetrates human flesh, and the damage it does to internal organs.
Another essay I recommend is "Public Rage Won't Solve Any of Our Problems" from 2018. On page 178:
"I'll never forget the journalist Nir Rosen, who's become something of a darling of the antiwar left for his well-informed criticisms of US. Middle East policy, delivering a blistering attack in front of the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations two months after I returned from Iraq. Everything we had done during the thirteen months I'd spent overseas, it seemed, was morally corrupt, counterproductive and dangerous. But when then-Senator Joe Biden put the ball in Rosen's court by asking, 'Based on what you've said, there's really no hope, we should just get the hell out of there right now, right?' Rosen was stumped. He admitted that he didn't actually know what should be done, that withdrawal might lead to a spike in sectarian violence and that 'it could be Rwanda the day the Americans leave.' As a knowledgeable observer of a complex war, Rosen knew enough, despite his first impulse, to know that he didi't have the answers."
You don't have to read the whole book to understand how demoralized the US military has become, and why.
November 29, 2024
The paradox of the war on terror is that it was the longest war in US history and was largely ignored by the US public. Beyond the initial invasion and high-profile events like the Bin Laden raid, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan just hummed along in the background while we were at the mall.
This collection of essays captures the ambiguity of those wars, the murky goals, the complicated politics, the relationship between the military and the US civilian populace, the role of journalism and politicians and rendering the violence invisible, the moral cost when war becomes irrelevant to the daily life of an average citizen.
Veterans need an audience that is both receptive and critical. Believing war is beyond words is an abrogation of responsibility—it lets civilians off the hook from trying to understand, and veterans off the hook from needing to explain. You don't honor someone by telling them, "I can never imagine what you've been through." Instead, listen to their story and try to imagine being in it, no matter how hard or uncomfortable that feels. If the past ten years have taught us anything, it's that in the age of an all-volunteer military, it is far too easy for Americans to send soldiers on deployment after deployment without making a serious effort to imagine what that means. We can do better.
-
Being responsive to suffering and attuned to joy are not different things, but one and the same.
-
We were told that we were the champions of the rights of mankind. The next time that feeling comes around, remember what it wrought. 9/11 unified America. It overcame partisan divides, bound us together, and gave us the sense of common purpose so lacking in today's poisonous politics. And nothing that we have done as a nation since has been so catastrophically destructive as what we did when we were enraptures by the warm glow of victimization and felt like we could o anything, together.
This collection of essays captures the ambiguity of those wars, the murky goals, the complicated politics, the relationship between the military and the US civilian populace, the role of journalism and politicians and rendering the violence invisible, the moral cost when war becomes irrelevant to the daily life of an average citizen.
Veterans need an audience that is both receptive and critical. Believing war is beyond words is an abrogation of responsibility—it lets civilians off the hook from trying to understand, and veterans off the hook from needing to explain. You don't honor someone by telling them, "I can never imagine what you've been through." Instead, listen to their story and try to imagine being in it, no matter how hard or uncomfortable that feels. If the past ten years have taught us anything, it's that in the age of an all-volunteer military, it is far too easy for Americans to send soldiers on deployment after deployment without making a serious effort to imagine what that means. We can do better.
-
Being responsive to suffering and attuned to joy are not different things, but one and the same.
-
We were told that we were the champions of the rights of mankind. The next time that feeling comes around, remember what it wrought. 9/11 unified America. It overcame partisan divides, bound us together, and gave us the sense of common purpose so lacking in today's poisonous politics. And nothing that we have done as a nation since has been so catastrophically destructive as what we did when we were enraptures by the warm glow of victimization and felt like we could o anything, together.
October 16, 2023
I have now read all three of Phil Klay's books. The continuing experience has only reinforced my opinion that Klay is one of the finest writers of our day.
This collection of essays contains much to think about. The one that touched me the most was the essay in which he commented on people who say to soldiers returning home from war "I can't even imagine what your experience was like." We might say the same to someone who has experienced rape or child abuse. But in saying such a thing, while the intent may be to be empathetic, it sends a clear message that the speaker has no intention of even trying to imagine it to the extent that he might be able to offer meaningful empathy. And this is an insult to the one who has experienced it.
We do not have to agree with the mindset of those who go off to war for any of a combination of glorified ideals — and I do not agree with that mindset — to benefit from listening with understanding to what they have to say. Phil Klay is a deeply informed man with passions and feelings who has researched his topic (modern American warfare) well and has articulated his experience, now in three books that are different in form and content but that make up a cogent whole, for all to benefit from.
This collection of essays contains much to think about. The one that touched me the most was the essay in which he commented on people who say to soldiers returning home from war "I can't even imagine what your experience was like." We might say the same to someone who has experienced rape or child abuse. But in saying such a thing, while the intent may be to be empathetic, it sends a clear message that the speaker has no intention of even trying to imagine it to the extent that he might be able to offer meaningful empathy. And this is an insult to the one who has experienced it.
We do not have to agree with the mindset of those who go off to war for any of a combination of glorified ideals — and I do not agree with that mindset — to benefit from listening with understanding to what they have to say. Phil Klay is a deeply informed man with passions and feelings who has researched his topic (modern American warfare) well and has articulated his experience, now in three books that are different in form and content but that make up a cogent whole, for all to benefit from.
December 31, 2023
Mr. Klay wrote a wonderful book of essays published in 2015 about the experiences of Gulf War veterans as they returned home or went on to other assignments. He is a fine writer with a clear and critical perspective about how the ambiguities of US policies in Iraq and Afghanistan interacted with the intentions and experiences of the soldiers who actually fought in those wars.
Unknown Ground is a follow-up book of essays that sharply addresses the problems that stem from fighting two major long lasting wars that were largely kept out of public attention and were pursued without clear purpose or mission. The directionless nature of the conflicts ends up having dreadful consequences for both the solders serving the US but also for the societies supposedly served in the wars and the general public that only comes lately to a recognition of the problematic nature of US involvement in the post-9/11 wars.
Kay’s essays are as clear as ever and his perspective is both honest and disturbing, especially given the lack of resonance with US government postures. These essays are well worth reading.
Unknown Ground is a follow-up book of essays that sharply addresses the problems that stem from fighting two major long lasting wars that were largely kept out of public attention and were pursued without clear purpose or mission. The directionless nature of the conflicts ends up having dreadful consequences for both the solders serving the US but also for the societies supposedly served in the wars and the general public that only comes lately to a recognition of the problematic nature of US involvement in the post-9/11 wars.
Kay’s essays are as clear as ever and his perspective is both honest and disturbing, especially given the lack of resonance with US government postures. These essays are well worth reading.
January 2, 2023
Eminently readable thought piece in segments from the author’s service in Iraq and Afghanistan from 2007 through 2021. He makes a powerful argument that both sides, the citizen and the soldier, are shirking their duties of exercising the national will through discussion and understanding of war and conflict. To merely thank a serviceman for their service, feel pity for assumed PTSD and say they could never understand their experience, falls short of that serious discussion. The author also warns against ‘patriotically correct’ and not contesting international/military decisions and practice also falls short of the duty of citizenship. Having served in the military for 34 years, and spending time in Iraq and Afghanistan, I found this book to be a wonderful opportunity to bridge the military/civilian divide we have in our country where only 1% serve.
December 12, 2021
US involvement in 21st century warfare is ignominious at best. Written by a former (is there such a thing?) US Marine, this is a clear look at what we have done to a generation of soldiers who were sold a bill of goods by a succession of politicians. It also quietly underscores how this country has betrayed another nation of people who looked to us for help and guidance in defeating their own enemies. To read this series of essays is to feel a deep sadness for what the US has become and how its young brave ones have been reduced to cannon fodder. We owe the veterans more than the meagre honor they've been given. This book needs to be read.
I requested and received a free ebook copy from PENGUIN GROUP/The Penguin Press via NetGalley. Thank you!
I requested and received a free ebook copy from PENGUIN GROUP/The Penguin Press via NetGalley. Thank you!
May 16, 2022
Thank you Netgalley and PENGUIN GROUP/The Penguin Press for an ARC for an honest review.
Uncertain Ground covers a series of essays that Phil Klay has written over the course of the Obama and Trump administrations regarding topics such as war and citizenship in a country that has been at war for decades when most of the American public has been oblivious to or indifferent about the issue at hand,
As a former (retired?) U.S. Marine, we see things in his eyes, following the topics that he covers, not only in his thoughts but also in his questions on said topics, as well as what these say about being American.
As an Australian reading about the topics of America, I found this quite interesting, especially reading this through the eyes of a Marine.
Uncertain Ground covers a series of essays that Phil Klay has written over the course of the Obama and Trump administrations regarding topics such as war and citizenship in a country that has been at war for decades when most of the American public has been oblivious to or indifferent about the issue at hand,
As a former (retired?) U.S. Marine, we see things in his eyes, following the topics that he covers, not only in his thoughts but also in his questions on said topics, as well as what these say about being American.
As an Australian reading about the topics of America, I found this quite interesting, especially reading this through the eyes of a Marine.
June 8, 2022
Phil Klay's brilliant, incisive writing is eye-opening and moving. The understanding he imparts as both a veteran and civilian author deepens empathy while providing a raw look at the realities of war for those tasked with carrying it out. Edifying, emotional, and wrenching, yet without slant - it's a rare talent. Klay's unique insights would broaden any reader's knowledge of our geopolitical world and the human toll of war. A must-read for history and military buffs and anyone seeking a deeper understanding of global conflicts from a uniquely American perspective.
I received a digital galley of this book in exchange for an honest review.
I received a digital galley of this book in exchange for an honest review.
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July 15, 2025It honestly feels fitting that one of the essays near the end referenced the book of Job, because it felt similar reading this book to reading that book of the Bible.
It’s dark, sometimes it’s really insightful, sometimes it’s just depressing and frustrating and grim.
They say you make people feel the way you feel on the inside, and I think that’s what happened. I felt heavy and lost and tortured and peaceful and calm and thoughtful throughout this book. I think some editing to carve out redundancy would have been useful, but overall, I was happy to wrestle with these mind breaking topics with Klay.
It’s dark, sometimes it’s really insightful, sometimes it’s just depressing and frustrating and grim.
They say you make people feel the way you feel on the inside, and I think that’s what happened. I felt heavy and lost and tortured and peaceful and calm and thoughtful throughout this book. I think some editing to carve out redundancy would have been useful, but overall, I was happy to wrestle with these mind breaking topics with Klay.
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