The Archaeology of the Cold War is one of a series of books that explore broad themes of American history and culture from an archaeological perspective, presenting the reader with an introduction to a theoretical and methodological overview of the topic.
The book is divided into six chapters beginning with a general introduction that outlines the chief characteristics of the Cold War and how it dominated many aspects of life during this period. Chapter 2, titled ‘In Theory and Practice: Archaeological Frameworks’, reviews the theoretical and methodological approaches that have been taken to the study of the Cold War. Hanson argues that, although it may be regarded as part of wider conflict archaeology studies, it also embraces the archaeology of the contemporary or recent past, and the archaeology of science. A feature of the study of the physical legacy of the Cold War on both sides of the Atlantic is the preponderance of work by cultural resource management agencies, with as yet relatively few projects being undertaken by purely academic institutions. The next chapter (Ch. 3, ‘Matters of Context: Building a Cold War Landscape’) discusses the development of the Cold War landscape in North America, dividing this into three distinct periods: ‘Evolution: Early Cold War 1945‒1957’; ‘Revolution: Middle Cold War 1958‒1975’; and ‘Resolution: Late Cold War 1976‒1989’. He discusses the types of sites that characterize each era allowing the reader to appreciate how changing strategies and technologies created distinctive assemblages of sites. The chronology of Cold War construction phases in North America is in contrast to what might be regarded as the frontline states of Europe. In the United Kingdom, with a handful of notable exceptions, it is the outbreak of the Korean War in June 1950 that marked the beginning of major military infrastructure renewal. A phase that lasted until about the Cuban Missile Crisis of October 1962, which also coincided with the deployment of intercontinental missiles in North America, allowing many strategic bomber squadrons to be reassigned away from Europe. A second major construction phase may be discerned from the mid-1970s as the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) began its European-wide hardening programme to ensure its key facilities were protected by more resilient structures. A feature of the early Cold War period in North America was the construction of the inter-state highway system, both to allow the movement of military and―if needed―the evacuation of the civil population (p. 29). In Europe, and especially in the east, the railway system remained the prime mover of military equipment. Further research is needed to understand how many supposedly civil post-war infrastructure projects were driven by Cold War concerns.
Chapter 4, ‘Archaeologies of the Cold War’, discusses in more detail projects undertaken by historical archaeologists, architectural historians, and preservationists on pioneering studies of Cold War sites. Interestingly, most of the selected studies discuss research and development sites as opposed to facilities where forces were deployed; including Bikini Atoll and the Nevada Test Site, the latter representing the most long-lived and extensive Cold War fieldwork project to date. Resistance to the Cold War world order is represented by the adjacent peace camp, whose archaeological remains are comparable to those of prehistoric hunter-gatherers. Also described is The Trestle, New Mexico; at the time of its construction in 1980s it was claimed to be the largest timber structure in the world. Its function was to test the effects of electro-magnetic pulses on objects as large as a B-52 bomber. The Cape Canaveral missile test site is also discussed. The only deployment sites described are those of the early 1960s Cuban Soviet missile sites surveyed by Mats Burström with Cuban and Swedish colleagues (Burström et al., Reference Burström, Díez Acosta, González Noriega, Gustafsson, Hernández, Karlsson, Pajón, Robaina Jaramillo and Westergaard2009).
‘Cold War Archaeology: Study and Stewardship Issues’ (Ch. 5) moves logically forward to discuss the practical difficulties of studying Cold War sites, their future management and how Cold War, sites are perceived by tourists and veterans. For archaeologists studying the Cold War there are many challenges. Access to active sites can be an issue and this is one reason why archaeologists working for, or on behalf of, official cultural resource agencies have dominated this topic. Many other high-tech Cold War sites have been abandoned and, with the usual permissions, are freely accessible for investigation. In common with former modern industrial sites, they can present many health and safety risks: on research sites, these might include radiation hazards, while derelict structures and other sources of contamination need to be considered. There is often the erroneous assumption that, given that Cold War sites all lie within memory and were part of military bureaucracies, abundant records will survive, obviating the need for fieldwork. For many reasons, records are lost at the point of closure; this may be due to lack of recognition of their historical significance, or more prosaic concerns about the on-going cost of secure storage. The inaccessibility of documentation may be further compounded if an establishment was occupied by foreign military forces. Although we are now a generation removed from the end of the Cold War, many aspects of the confrontation still remain classified. Early Cold War sites are also starting to fade from living memory and even when veterans can be contacted they may feel constrained about what they might say about former activities.
The concluding chapter (Ch. 6) considers threats to Cold War sites and landscapes through sales to private owners who wish to convert the sites to new uses, or government property managers who are looking to reduce their maintenance liabilities. The lack of conventional aesthetic appeal is also seen as a factor in the apparent lack of interest in Cold War sites. Jon Wiener (Reference Wiener2012) set out to discover why America had apparently forgotten the Cold War. Unlike the Second World War and the ‘greatest generation’, Wiener argues the narrative ‘“good war” framework’ for the heritage of the Cold War has been met with scepticism or rejection (Wiener, Reference Wiener2012: 2). A similar review of preserved Second World War sites in North America might, however, present a comparable picture with relatively few preserved sites. A noticeable feature of the United States’ experience of remembering the Cold War is the prevalence of museums and monuments to the armed forces and foreign victims of oppression. Wiener, for example, draws attention to the only Cold War victory monument at the National Museum of the Air Force, Dayton, Ohio (Wiener, Reference Wiener2012: 4‒5). In comparison to Europe, there are relatively few officially designated Cold War installations. The ‘good war’ narrative is in sharp contrast to the experience of eastern Europe where the Cold War years are viewed through the prism of communist domination. Over the past decades this has in turn shaped national stories of ‘roads to freedom’, with the memory of this period being represented by museums and monuments to the oppressed and places of surveillance, detention, and torture preserved as educational resources (Rasmussen, Reference Rasmussen2010). In North America and Europe, individuals, entrepreneurs, and private historical associations are all active in preserving Cold War sites. Their inspiration does not necessarily originate in the wider national narratives, but may be motivated by commercial opportunities or a deep fascination with the period, its military installations, and equipment.
Following the format of this series, the book is illustrated by black and white images, a mixture of archive pictures and more recent views of sites, and three maps. For the non-American readers, additional maps would have been helpful to locate sites, and also site plans to illustrate typical components and site layouts. As Hanson notes, a feature of the Cold War was the export of American military technology and the construction of semi-permanent and permanent bases in allied nations. These included Jupiter medium-range missiles in Italy and Turkey, and Nike Hercules anti-aircraft missiles in Denmark, West Germany, Greece, Italy, Norway, and Turkey. He suggests that this was a phenomenon of the 1960s; but it is a feature that may be observed a decade earlier with the construction of Strategic Air Command facilities in the United Kingdom, Spain, and North Africa. Based on the North American picture, he comments that ‘by the 1980s Cold War construction across the globe would be in steep decline’ (p. 60). This is contrary to the experience of most European NATO members where there was a major construction programme to harden, or make more resilient, key assets such as airfields, command, and communications centres. In eastern Europe, the available evidence suggests that it was the creation of the Warsaw Pact in 1956 that led to the construction of bespoke military infrastructure to meet the needs of the Cold War. From the 1970s, in eastern Europe it is also apparent that a similar programme was underway to protect airfields and command centres with the construction of new military works continuing throughout the 1980s.
This book is a welcome, and very readable, addition to the small number of national surveys of the physical legacy of the Cold War (Cocroft & Thomas, Reference Cocroft and Thomas2003; Stenak et al., Reference Stenak, Pedersen, Hansen and Jespersen2013). From a European perspective it highlights the need for further national overviews to understand how each country's experience of the Cold War is reflected by unique material cultural assemblages. We need to know more about different national chronologies for Cold War construction campaigns and how they relate to the established grand narratives of the period. But, Todd Hanson also challenges us to use archaeology to humanize the conflict and to dig deeper into the material aspects of nationalism, violence, secrecy, mendacity, imperialism, exclusion, racism, sexism, and xenophobia (pp. 152‒53). Finally, he observes, while many Cold War veterans are still with us: ‘there is no better time to study the Cold War past than the present’ (p. 147).
