In his Acknowledgments, Seymour Morris Jr. tells the reader that he is not a professional historian by training, but that he worked very hard. We are invited to appreciate what he writes as coming from someone with substantial management experience—the project that he proposes is to examine the techniques Gen. MacArthur used to achieve success in the occupation of Japan. I started the work no fan of the general’s, but wanted to see what case could be made.
The first significant historical error of the work occurs as early as p. xv, when the 1942 Doolittle raid is conflated with the massive bombing campaign in the later stages of the war. Not material, perhaps, for a discussion of MacArthur the manager, but nonetheless troubling.
Morris claims that he started out neutral, but also describes his project as conceived, from the outset, as a study of success. But his admiration of MacArthur leads him to gloss over many of the less savory incidents of the general’s career, and for the unavoidable ones, present as minimal or positive an interpretation as possible. And this does undercut his core project. A prime instance is that he attributes the nickname “Dugout Doug” to MacArthur’s presidentially ordered flight from the Philippines (p. 12-13). In fact, the sobriquet arose during (not after) the siege, when MacArthur entirely avoided forward positions. Given that Morris regularly claims MacArthur led from the front (and he did on other occasions), getting this wrong undercuts the picture of the general’s management style.
Similarly, Morris adopts the MacArthur party line that the Philippines fell because the government in Washington let him down, when it is well documented that there never were plans or resources for the sort of relief that MacArthur sought. MacArthur showed himself unable to see the larger picture, unable to distinguish his personal priorities from the country’s. Moreover, he was fundamentally dishonest with the troops under his command, telling them relief was coming when he knew it was not. Neither of these seem traits of an outstanding manager.
Morris emphasizes the amount of reading that he did, but does not seem to have read critically. He cites memoirs and other materials by MacArthur’s circle without engaging the point that they are often at variance with outside sources, particularly contemporary archival evidence. In this, he falls prey to one of the great challenges with MacArthur, namely that advocates of the general (starting with the man himself) so over-praised him that, in discounting the hyperbole one risks losing the solid (if flawed and mortal) actual achievements. His speech at the surrender ceremony was dignified and appropriate, but the Senator Vandenberg who compared it to Lincoln at Gettysburg was a Republican looking to cultivate a potential presidential candidate. Morris simply takes Vandenberg’s judgment at face value, missing the not-so-minor point that Lincoln’s words have shaped the political thought of this country ever since, and MacArthur’s have had no lasting influence.
The uncritical use of sources is manifest in Morris’s inconsistent presentation of his subject. A prime example is that MacArthur’s political views are variously described as liberal (and indeed, he was sometimes accused of socialism as Morris reports), and then on p. 237, he is suddenly a “conservative Republican.” A controversial figure necessarily will inspire conflicting testimony; to inspire confidence, the historian must engage with this conflict, not mirror it. This inconsistency undercuts the basic project of the book when MacArthur is first presented as a good manager because he tells a junior subordinate to “come straight to me” (p. 16-17), and later is praised for insulating himself by being available only to senior staff (p. 96).
Ultimately, Morris fails to distinguish the marketing from the actual product. He declares the occupation "the greatest achievement of the greatest general." But the occupation was not perfect, and Morris never addresses the weaknesses, most especially the long-term failure of Japan, as a society, to recognize the magnitude of atrocities committed by her armed forces. Instead, he simply denigrates the achievements of other generals (as when the peace-time movement of Japanese demobilization is declared superior to the wartime movement of D-Day).
The supposed managerial insight ultimately doesn't amount to very much, and the failure to get basic historic narrative correct undercuts the credibility of that.