Heir to the academic think-tank called The Inquiry that prepared Woodrow Wilson for the Paris Peace Conference in 1919, the Council on Foreign Relations has ever since filled a unique and often controversial place in the history of America's 20th century. Private and nonpartisan, endowed and financed over the decades by invited members, the New York-based Council has been called an incubator of ideas. From its book-lined meeting rooms and the pages of its publication Foreign Affairs has come much of the most provocative thought about foreign policy since the isolationist era of the 1920s, through World War II and the Cold War--and now beyond. This fresh and informal history of the Council's first 75 years reflects the diverse voices of Council members, who have been influential in both political parties, all presidential administrations following Wilson's, and on competing sides of major issues. Records of Council meetings reveal spirited discord and dissent on the problems of the day: to enter the war against fascism or put America First, about ideology and economics in the containment of communism, the influence of nuclear weapons upon diplomacy, recognition of communist China, the American war in Vietnam, and now the shape of the post-Cold War international order. The Council in its deliberations mirrors, as well as defines, the competing options for the society at large.
Peter Grose’s Continuing the Inquiry: The Council on Foreign Relations from 1921 to 1996 offers an institutional history of one of the most influential and enigmatic policy think tanks in twentieth-century America. Commissioned by the Council on Foreign Relations (CFR) itself and written by Grose, a journalist and former Council staff member, the volume serves as both a commemorative chronicle and a cautious attempt at internal historiography. While accessible and informative, the work is ultimately constrained by its origins in institutional self-portraiture and lacks the critical detachment characteristic of independent scholarship.
The book traces the evolution of the CFR from its establishment in the aftermath of World War I as a forum for elite deliberation on foreign policy, through its rise to prominence during World War II and the Cold War, to its position in the post-Cold War global landscape. Grose organizes the narrative chronologically, structuring it around key phases of transformation: the formative years under Elihu Root and the “Inquiry” legacy of the Versailles Peace Conference; the Council’s pivotal wartime role in planning postwar international institutions; and its adaptation to the globalizing pressures of the 1970s through the 1990s.
Grose emphasizes the Council’s role as a bridge between the realms of academic expertise, government policymaking, and private sector leadership. This tripartite identity is illustrated through the careers of influential figures—such as Hamilton Fish Armstrong, Allen Dulles, Henry Kissinger, and Leslie Gelb—who occupied overlapping roles within the Council and the broader national security establishment. The Council’s intimate yet unofficial proximity to power, particularly during the Cold War, raises recurring questions about the transparency and accountability of elite policy formation, though Grose only lightly engages these issues.
A strength of Grose’s account lies in its depiction of the Council as a reflective institution, frequently reassessing its mission and constituency in response to shifts in the international order. The expansion of membership to include more diverse voices, and the Council’s grappling with critiques of elitism and secrecy, are covered with measured detail. The author notes the tensions between the Council’s commitment to open debate and its traditional role as a private, invitation-only club, underscoring its enduring identity as both an intellectual hub and a gatekeeping institution.
However, the book is less successful in critically analyzing the deeper ideological assumptions underpinning the Council’s influence. The CFR’s role in promoting liberal internationalism, underwriting American global leadership, and aligning intellectual consensus with state interests is acknowledged but not interrogated. Grose’s tone remains deferential, even celebratory at times, and the absence of dissenting perspectives from outside the organization narrows the interpretive scope. This is particularly evident in the treatment of controversial episodes such as the Vietnam War or the Council’s ambiguous relationship to covert Cold War activities—areas ripe for critical inquiry that are treated with studied restraint.
Moreover, the institutional character of the work—commissioned by and for the Council—limits its historiographical ambition. There is little engagement with broader methodological debates in diplomatic history or policy studies, nor is there a sustained analytical framework that situates the CFR within the wider context of American elite networks or foreign policy pluralism. As a result, while Continuing the Inquiry provides valuable descriptive material and internal perspectives, it falls short of a critical institutional sociology or an independent policy history.
Peter Grose’s Continuing the Inquiry is a useful but partial history of the Council on Foreign Relations. It succeeds in documenting the Council’s internal dynamics and elite networks over the course of the twentieth century, and it is especially valuable as a source on the Council’s self-understanding and adaptive strategies. Yet, as an academic contribution, it is best read in conjunction with more critical works—such as Laurence Shoup and William Minter’s Imperial Brain Trust—that interrogate the deeper power structures and ideologies within which the CFR operates. Grose’s volume offers a window into the official memory of the CFR, but the full story of its influence on American foreign policy requires broader and more critical scholarly engagement.