Let’s say it’s January 2021, and President Bernie Sanders has just assumed office. On his second day as commander-in-chief of the most powerful military in world history, Bernie and his foreign policy team are ushered into the White House Situation Room. After being seated at a long wooden table, a group of diplomats and military officers informs Bernie that armed militants in the Central African Republic have placed artillery around a town and are threatening to bombard its 10,000 inhabitants. The townspeople have requested that the United States destroy the weapons and save their lives. What should Bernie do?



For Samantha Power, who served as U.S. ambassador to the United Nations during Barack Obama’s second term, this really is no question at all: You eliminate the weapons. Power has dedicated her life to promoting humanitarian intervention—the idea that the United States, as the world’s “indispensable nation,” has the moral duty to use its awesome military capabilities to prevent or halt atrocities. First as a war reporter covering the Balkans in the 1990s, then as the Pulitzer Prize–winning author of “A Problem From Hell”: America and the Age of Genocide, and finally as a government official herself, Power has insisted that the “responsibility to protect” innocents from slaughter is sacrosanct, even if it means U.S. military adventurism or violating foreign nations’ sovereignty. When civilians are threatened, Power believes we must save them.

THE EDUCATION OF AN IDEALIST: A MEMOIR by Samantha Power Dey Street Books, 592 pp., $29.99

For this position, she has been both praised and lambasted. Power’s supporters see her as a moral beacon in a world focused on power politics at the expense of human rights. In the last two decades, she has shaped the way a generation of liberal analysts and policymakers understand international relations and their role within it: Barack Obama has called her “one of our foremost thinkers on foreign policy,” while Ben Rhodes has said she was “who I wanted to become when I moved down to Washington.” Meanwhile, critics like the law professor Aziz Rana understand her as an unreconstructed “war hawk,” who employs the discourse of human rights to mask American imperialism. For them, Power embodies the contradictions of liberal geopolitics, in which lofty rhetoric is used to justify military action in regions where the United States has at best tangential interests.

Power’s memoir arrives at a time when she and her approach have fallen from favor—both with the current administration, which has adopted a nakedly transactional approach to foreign affairs, and with left-wing foreign policy thinkers, who want to dismantle U.S. military dominance. Against these tides, Power’s new book seems intended to rehabilitate both her agenda and her own reputation, as she narrates in vivid and engaging prose her rapid rise to some of the most influential positions in U.S. foreign policy-making. It’s the story of a sympathetic protagonist just trying to save innocent lives—yet one that inadvertently demonstrates the lethality of good intentions. The most startling thing about a book titled The Education of an Idealist is that Power appears not to have learned very much.

Power’s early years exemplified the peripatetic privilege of the global bourgeoisie. She was born in Ireland in 1970, the daughter of a doctor mother and a dentist father. In 1979, after her father’s alcoholism destroyed her parents’ marriage, Power’s mother moved with Samantha and her brother to the United States. Power quickly acclimated to American life; she lost her Irish accent, began a lifelong love affair with baseball, and started on her high school’s basketball team. She also studied hard for the SAT, and in 1988 was accepted to Yale University.