There are two theses running through The Oath, Jeffrey Toobin’s follow-up to his 2008 Supreme Court profile, The Nine. The first is that former constitutional law professor Barack Obama and current Chief Justice John Roberts have fundamentally opposed theories of constitutional interpretation. As Toobin writes, it is Roberts who is an “apostle of change” and Obama who is “determined to hold on to an older version of the meaning of the Constitution.” The book bills itself by this difference, but Toobin fails to deliver a thorough portrait on the president’s end. Though he convincingly argues that judicial matters are not high among the president’s priorities, Toobin offers little about Obama’s legal philosophy. The Oath is really an up-close look at recent high-profile cases on the Supreme Court’s docket.

That brings us to the book’s second thesis: Constitutional law is politics by other means, at least in the current day. This sentiment pervades the discussion of the cases at the book’s core: District of Columbia v. Heller’s location of an individual right to a handgun in the Second Amendment; Citizens United and the Court’s equation of corporate campaign contributions with speech; and this summer’s decision to uphold the individual mandate in Obama’s healthcare law. In each of these cases, Toobin sees a battle between Democrats and Republicans. Legal theories serve as proxies for partisan politics. Some might view this equivalence as overly simplistic and the emphasis on big-ticket cases as unduly narrow. Yet it is difficult to refute the notion that the Court has taken a conservative tack—even prior to Roberts—that relies on overturning legal precedent.

Overall, The Oath is an entertaining read that provides lively personal accounts of the justices and that makes complex legal issues understandable. It is a welcome portrait of the contemporary Supreme Court.

“What happened to the America I knew?” writes Tom Brokaw in his new book, The Time of Our Lives: A Conversation About America. According to Brokaw, our nation is challenged by political partisanship, environmental degradation and, thanks to technology, rapid-fire and sometimes shallow social connections. Rather than a lament, however, Brokaw has written a hopeful volume, providing insightful analysis as well as a call to action. “What follows,” he writes in the preface, “are the observations, hopes, memories, and suggestions of a child of the twentieth century . . . with some observations on how we might realize the great promise of a future that would benefit us all.”

In The Time of Our Lives, Brokaw dissects such issues as education, public service, the 2008 recession and the Internet explosion. Along with his own analysis, Brokaw weaves in memories of his South Dakota childhood and his experiences covering major events of the last half of the 20th century. He’s not a policy wonk, but a seasoned journalist who still respects the values of hard work, integrity, thrift and generosity demonstrated by his Midwestern parents and grandparents. He asks, as America’s place in the world shifts and our society changes, will we still retain the character necessary to be a great nation?

Brokaw tells his own story, but he also tells the stories of the Americans he has met in his travels across the country. Some of these stories are heartbreaking, others inspiring. They all illustrate both the problems and the solutions citizens are grappling with as they navigate difficult economic times. By putting human faces on these issues, Brokaw reminds us that statistics about unemployment, foreclosures and failing schools represent real people.

“Do we have the will to restore a sense of national purpose that unites us rather than divides us?” he inquires. “Shouldn’t we take a realistic inventory of our strengths, needs, objectives, and challenges as we head into a new century in a changed world?” Tom Brokaw hopes his new book will start that discussion.

From the first nationally broadcast presidential debate in 1960, television has changed the dynamics of elections. Those who listened to that debate on the radio felt that Richard M. Nixon had won. Those who watched it on TV deemed John F. Kennedy the winner. Analysts believed a lot of it had to do with image: Nixon looked ashen and sweaty, while Kennedy was tan and relaxed. Since then, the televised debate has grown in importance, watched by millions of Americans who may decide their vote based on a candidate’s comment, a facial tic, even a sigh. At the center of many of these debates has been Jim Lehrer, longtime anchor of “NewsHour” on PBS. Now Lehrer shares his memory of the debates he’s moderated in his new book, Tension City.

Along with the opportunity to moderate 11 presidential or vice presidential debates, Lehrer also has had the chance to interview most of the candidates who have participated. The book’s title comes from former President George H.W. Bush, who when asked by Lehrer what he thought of his debates, replied, “. . . it was tension city, Jim.” Indeed, Lehrer’s behind-the-scenes observations reveal just how high-stakes these debates can be. Candidates take weeks prepping for the debates, and negotiate every detail, including the size and shape of the podium. And no matter how well prepared they are, one little “gotcha moment,” as Lehrer describes it, can determine the outcome. Lehrer colorfully recounts Al Gore’s “sighs” at George W. Bush; Ronald Reagan’s “there you go again”s to Jimmy Carter; and Lloyd Bentsen’s response to Dan Quayle: “Senator, you’re no Jack Kennedy.”

Highlights from each of the debates Lehrer has moderated are supplemented with interviews of the candidates, making Tension Citya book rich in observation and perspective. The debaters, including all the sitting presidents, are refreshingly candid, providing critical assessments of their performances. And like the able moderator that he is, Lehrer guides the book’s narrative in a steady, balanced style. A seasoned journalist, Lehrer’s writing is detailed, but also concise. Thus, his Tension City is both educational and enjoyable, and equally suitable for both political wonk and common citizen.

Nikita S. Khrushchev was a walking bundle of contradictions. He rose to power in the Soviet system in the service of the dictator Josef Stalin. Following Stalin’s orders, Khrushchev was complicit in the deaths of many innocent people. Yet after Stalin’s death, Khrushchev, in a four-hour public address, courageously revealed the truth about Stalin’s many crimes against humanity. Khrushchev could, within a few seconds, be charming, funny, rude and frightening. All of those aspects of his personality were on display for the American public when he toured the United States for two weeks in 1959. It was a rare interlude in the Cold War, at a time when the possibility of war between the world’s two superpowers was on many minds throughout the world.

Peter Carlson, a former Washington Post feature writer and columnist, brings this unique trip vividly to life in K Blows Top: A Cold War Comic Interlude Starring Nikita Khrushchev, America’s Most Unlikely Tourist. American reaction to Khrushchev reveals much about the mood of our country at the time and makes for fascinating reading.

Khrushchev’s own reactions are equally engrossing. At banquets with speakers extolling the virtues of capitalism, the Soviet Leader defended Communism and threw tantrums, refusing to concede the U.S. any point of superiority. In Hollywood he met movie stars like Frank Sinatra and Marilyn Monroe, and was invited to watch the filming of the movie Can-Can where, although he appeared to enjoy himself, he later objected to the dancing. He threw a major tantrum when told he could not go to Disneyland because police could not assure his safety. On a corn farm in Iowa Khrushchev was amused when his host, upset at the media circus on his property, started throwing corn stalks at the press. The foreign visitor also brought havoc to a supermarket in San Francisco. And these are only a few of the stories.

Carlson carefully explains the trip within the context of U.S.-U.S.S.R. relations. Just weeks before Khrushchev’s visit, he had his famous “kitchen debate” with Vice President Richard Nixon in Moscow. Seven months after Khrushchev left the U.S., two weeks before a Paris summit of major powers, and six weeks before President Eisenhower’s planned reciprocal trip to Moscow, the Soviets shot down an American U-2 spy plane and captured the pilot. When Khrushchev returned to the U.S. for the 1960 U.N. General Assembly session, he did not get a warm welcome and is best remembered for banging his shoe in outrage over remarks by a Filipino delegate.

The invitation to visit the U.S. almost didn’t happen. President Dwight D. Eisenhower sent a short and purposely vague letter to the Soviet leader about a possible visit. The note was to be supplemented by an oral explanation from an undersecretary of state. Both sources were to make clear the visit to Camp David was contingent upon a successful resolution of deadlocked diplomatic negotiations in Geneva relating to Khrushchev’s 1958 ultimatum for the Western allies to leave Berlin. However, the state department official misunderstood his role and Khrushchev was not aware of the caveat.

Carlson’s account is extremely well researched and includes interviews with a number of participants, most notably Khrushchev’s son, Sergei. Many of the accounts and memos he quotes are from State Department historical documents. His book is enlivened by many direct quotes from Khrushchev and others. Anyone interested in cultural exchange, international diplomacy and fine writing should enjoy this unique book.

Roger Bishop is a retired Nashville bookseller and frequent contributor to BookPage.

Since the 1981 assassination of her husband, Egyptian president Anwar Sadat, Jehan Sadat has created a new identity as a university professor, lecturer and activist for peace and women’s rights. Dividing her time between Egypt and the United States, she has a valuable perspective on both countries—and she is dismayed by what she believes are the damaging misperceptions held by many Americans about her culture and religion.

Sadat’s first book, the best-selling A Woman of Egypt, was the story of her life. Her new one, My Hope for Peace, timed for the 30th anniversary of the Egypt-Israel peace accord, is also personal in tone, but has a more varied mission. Writing for ordinary Americans not familiar with Islam and the Middle East, Sadat focuses on three themes: the imperative for a just, negotiated peace between Arabs and Israelis; the distinction between Islam as a worldwide faith and the horrific behavior of relatively few violent fundamentalists; and the search for peace within ourselves.

Mixing the personal and the political, Sadat uses simple, direct language to explain the basic history and beliefs of Islam. She makes a particular argument that Islam does not oppress women and can be the framework for their education and economic self-reliance. And she drives home the point that the forces behind the 9/11 terror attacks also killed her husband, whom she describes as a believing Muslim devoted to peace and progress. He remains a hero to his widow, who deplores the failure of both Arab and Israeli leaders to follow his example.

Certainly, Sadat sees the Arab-Israeli conflict through the eyes of an Egyptian committed to Palestinian rights. The reader will not find any criticism of the current Egyptian government, nor any friendly words for Ariel Sharon. Her approach is moderate and even-handed, always seeking a peaceful outcome for both sides. Sadat does not provide specific proscriptions, arguing instead that the most vital precursor for any real solution is the genuine intention of peace: “Lack of ideas is not the overwhelming hurdle, but rather the lack of political will and personal courage.”

Anne Bartlett is a journalist in Washington, D.C.

The “blank spots” of the title of Trevor Paglen’s Blank Spots on the Map refer to America’s secret intelligence-gathering outposts—from unacknowledged air bases in the Southwest, to innocuous office buildings in the suburbs of Washington, D.C., to disguised prisons in Afghanistan, to undeclared spy satellites circling overhead. Drawing on his reporting skills and training as a geographer, Paglen constructs both a history and a remarkably detailed outline of America’s “black” operations, many of which are now in the hands of profit-oriented private contractors who have no allegiance to the taxpayers who fund them—or to constitutional niceties.

Indeed, Paglen argues that government-sanctioned secrecy exacts a severe toll on America’s legal system. The Central Intelligence Act of 1949, he points out, exempts CIA funding from Congressional oversight in spite of the constitutional clause that mandates it. Now, Paglen asserts, the law has been stretched through state-secrecy arguments to embrace wiretapping of citizens without court approval, torture, “extraordinary rendition” of prisoners to other countries for interrogation, punishment and concealment and routine denial of due process.

“Creating secret geographies has meant erasing parts of the Constitution,” he says, “creating blank spots in the law . . . handing sovereign powers . . . to the executive branch . . . and turning our own history into a state secret.”

To document these conclusions, Paglen monitored (from a distance) secret sites from Las Vegas to Kabul; sifted through government and private documents and extrapolated the data found there; and enlisted the talents of an array of amateur researchers, including a zealous recorder and interpreter of satellite data in Toronto and a retired history professor in Hawaii who specializes in the privatization of intelligence gathering. Paglen engages in no UFO voodoo or conspiracy theories here. He’s just a concerned citizen doggedly attempting to gain relevant facts from a government now designed to conceal them.

Edward Morris gathers intelligence from Nashville.