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American Cipher: One Soldier’s Nightmare in the Afghanistan War
On June 30, 2009, Private First Class Bowe Bergdahl left his post in eastern Afghanistan, about 25 miles from the Pakistani border. He was quickly captured by local tribesmen, who sold him up the Taliban's chain of command. In May 2014, after almost five years in captivity - the longest-held and most brutalised Prisoner of War since Vietnam - he was released. His freedom was exchanged for five Taliban commanders held at Guantanamo Bay. Bergdahl was welcomed home by President Obama in a ceremony in the Rose Garden of the White House. Within hours, however, some of Bergdahl's former platoon mates were denouncing him as a deserter, even a traitor. Bergdahl admits walking away from his guard post of his own volition. But what is the is Bowe Bergdahl a traitor or a hero? Or does the truth lie somewhere in-between, shrouded by the fog of war? Bowe Bergdahl's story has risen to international prominence since becoming the subject of the current series of the hit podcast Serial . But now, and for the first time, American Cipher , written with exclusive access to key sources, will tell the full compelling, dramatic and shocking true story.
400 pages, Paperback
Published March 12, 2020
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February 7, 2026
American Cipher: One Soldier’s Nightmare in the Afghanistan War by Matt Farwell and Michael Ames (also published under the title American Cipher: Bowe Bergdahl and the U.S. Tragedy in Afghanistan) sets out to untangle one of the most controversial military stories of the post-9/11 era: the disappearance, captivity, and eventual release of Bowe Bergdahl.
The book opens with the now-infamous events of June 30, 2009, when Private First Class Bowe Bergdahl walked away from his post in eastern Afghanistan and was quickly captured, sold to the Taliban, and held for nearly five years—the longest-held and most brutalised American POW since Vietnam. His release in 2014, exchanged for five Taliban detainees from Guantanamo Bay and marked by a Rose Garden ceremony with President Obama, was immediately followed by fierce backlash. Former platoon mates accused Bergdahl of desertion and betrayal, reigniting a national debate: traitor, hero, or something far more complicated?
While the book promises to answer that question, it often feels like Bergdahl’s story is only part of the focus. A significant portion of the narrative is devoted to the authors’ broader critique of the Afghanistan war, the U.S. military, and government dysfunction. At times, this comes across as unbalanced, with extended tangents that feel only loosely connected to Bergdahl himself. I went into this hoping to gain a deeper understanding—and perhaps some sympathy—for Bergdahl. Instead, the narrative frequently shifts away from him, diluting the emotional and psychological core of his experience.
When the book does focus on Bergdahl, the portrait is deeply unsettling. It becomes clear that he was profoundly ill-suited for military service, something many around him seemed to recognise long before his deployment. His earlier failure to complete Coast Guard training, his rigid worldview, and his naïveté raise uncomfortable questions about why he was ever allowed into the Army, let alone sent to a combat zone. The most striking revelation is that few who knew him were truly surprised by what happened—an indictment not just of Bergdahl, but of the systems that placed him in that situation.
Structurally, the book jumps around a lot and introduces an overwhelming number of names and subplots, many of which are touched on too briefly to leave a lasting impression. The result is a narrative that feels expansive without always being cohesive. I found myself wishing the authors had either gone much deeper into Bergdahl’s personal story or pulled back and tightened the scope. Sitting awkwardly in the middle, it often feels unfocused.
The political framing is another weak point. The book repeatedly positions the Bergdahl case as a major factor in the 2016 U.S. election, which felt overstated. While the case certainly became politicised and influenced public discourse around his trial, it never carried the same weight as issues like Benghazi, and the insistence on its electoral significance rang hollow.
That said, the book does succeed in highlighting how deeply complex, tragic, and morally grey the Bergdahl story truly is. In the end, I agree with the outcome of the trial and firmly believe he should never have been deployed in the first place. His decision-making under pressure was catastrophically poor—but that, too, reflects failures far beyond one individual. In retrospect, his story raises deeply troubling questions about U.S. policy, military screening, and the broader purpose of the Afghanistan war itself.
I was particularly interested in the sections touching on Jason Amerine, having previously read The Only Thing Worth Dying For by Eric Blehm, and those moments added valuable context to the wider conflict.
Ultimately, American Cipher is an ambitious and often thought-provoking book, but one that struggles with focus and balance. Bergdahl’s story is compelling enough on its own; it didn’t need quite so much editorial expansion to make its point.
The book opens with the now-infamous events of June 30, 2009, when Private First Class Bowe Bergdahl walked away from his post in eastern Afghanistan and was quickly captured, sold to the Taliban, and held for nearly five years—the longest-held and most brutalised American POW since Vietnam. His release in 2014, exchanged for five Taliban detainees from Guantanamo Bay and marked by a Rose Garden ceremony with President Obama, was immediately followed by fierce backlash. Former platoon mates accused Bergdahl of desertion and betrayal, reigniting a national debate: traitor, hero, or something far more complicated?
While the book promises to answer that question, it often feels like Bergdahl’s story is only part of the focus. A significant portion of the narrative is devoted to the authors’ broader critique of the Afghanistan war, the U.S. military, and government dysfunction. At times, this comes across as unbalanced, with extended tangents that feel only loosely connected to Bergdahl himself. I went into this hoping to gain a deeper understanding—and perhaps some sympathy—for Bergdahl. Instead, the narrative frequently shifts away from him, diluting the emotional and psychological core of his experience.
When the book does focus on Bergdahl, the portrait is deeply unsettling. It becomes clear that he was profoundly ill-suited for military service, something many around him seemed to recognise long before his deployment. His earlier failure to complete Coast Guard training, his rigid worldview, and his naïveté raise uncomfortable questions about why he was ever allowed into the Army, let alone sent to a combat zone. The most striking revelation is that few who knew him were truly surprised by what happened—an indictment not just of Bergdahl, but of the systems that placed him in that situation.
Structurally, the book jumps around a lot and introduces an overwhelming number of names and subplots, many of which are touched on too briefly to leave a lasting impression. The result is a narrative that feels expansive without always being cohesive. I found myself wishing the authors had either gone much deeper into Bergdahl’s personal story or pulled back and tightened the scope. Sitting awkwardly in the middle, it often feels unfocused.
The political framing is another weak point. The book repeatedly positions the Bergdahl case as a major factor in the 2016 U.S. election, which felt overstated. While the case certainly became politicised and influenced public discourse around his trial, it never carried the same weight as issues like Benghazi, and the insistence on its electoral significance rang hollow.
That said, the book does succeed in highlighting how deeply complex, tragic, and morally grey the Bergdahl story truly is. In the end, I agree with the outcome of the trial and firmly believe he should never have been deployed in the first place. His decision-making under pressure was catastrophically poor—but that, too, reflects failures far beyond one individual. In retrospect, his story raises deeply troubling questions about U.S. policy, military screening, and the broader purpose of the Afghanistan war itself.
I was particularly interested in the sections touching on Jason Amerine, having previously read The Only Thing Worth Dying For by Eric Blehm, and those moments added valuable context to the wider conflict.
Ultimately, American Cipher is an ambitious and often thought-provoking book, but one that struggles with focus and balance. Bergdahl’s story is compelling enough on its own; it didn’t need quite so much editorial expansion to make its point.
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