There are books that tell us how wars are fought, and there are books that ask whether those wars should be fought in the way they are. Jeremy Scahill’s Dirty Wars: The World Is a Battlefield firmly belongs in the second category. This is not a campaign history, nor is it a study of tactics or military organisation. Instead, it is an investigation into the increasingly secret world of modern counterterrorism, where special operations forces, intelligence agencies, drones, and targeted killings operate far from public scrutiny.

Scahill argues that following the attacks of September 2001, the United States steadily expanded its use of covert military force beyond recognised battlefields. Afghanistan and Iraq were only part of the story. Yemen, Somalia, Pakistan, and other countries became theatres of conflict without formal declarations of war. According to Scahill, this transformation created a situation where governments claimed the authority to strike individuals almost anywhere in the world, often with little public oversight or judicial review.

What separates Dirty Wars from many books on the War on Terror is the amount of fieldwork behind it. Scahill does not simply analyse policy papers or interview officials in Washington. He travels to villages where raids occurred, speaks with survivors and local witnesses, and attempts to reconstruct events that were often reported very differently by military authorities. His investigation into the raid at Gardez in Afghanistan is particularly effective because it demonstrates how difficult it can be to establish the truth once governments classify operations and control the initial flow of information. Whether every conclusion is accepted or not, the reporting itself is impressive.

For military historians, the book offers something rather different from the operational histories that usually fill our bookshelves. It is less concerned with how special operations are planned and executed than with what happens after the operation is over. How are targets selected? Who is held accountable when intelligence proves flawed? What happens when civilians are killed? These are questions that deserve serious consideration because they increasingly shape modern warfare every bit as much as weapons, doctrine, or battlefield tactics.

That said, readers should approach the book with an awareness of the author’s perspective. Scahill writes as an investigative journalist rather than as a detached historian, and his opposition to many aspects of American counterterrorism policy is evident throughout. At times the narrative can feel one sided, giving relatively little attention to the difficult strategic problems faced by governments attempting to disrupt terrorist networks that deliberately avoid conventional battlefields. There is certainly another side to the debate, and readers interested in a balanced understanding should seek out works representing differing viewpoints.

None of that diminishes the importance of what Scahill has produced. Good investigative journalism exists to ask uncomfortable questions, particularly where governments prefer silence. Dirty Wars does exactly that. It reminds us that secrecy, while sometimes operationally necessary, also limits democratic accountability. Historians have long understood that governments rarely reveal the full story during wartime, and Scahill’s work provides another example of how difficult it can be to separate official narratives from the realities experienced by those on the ground.

I found Dirty Wars both engaging and thought provoking. It is not the final word on modern counterterrorism, nor does it claim to be. Instead, it serves as an invitation to examine an aspect of twenty first century warfare that remains largely hidden from public view. Even readers who disagree with Scahill’s conclusions will likely finish the book with a better appreciation of how modern special operations have evolved and why transparency remains such an important issue in democratic societies.

If your interest lies in operational military history, this may not be your first choice. If, however, you want to understand the shadowy environment in which much of modern conflict now unfolds, Dirty Wars is well worth your time. Read it critically, compare it with other perspectives, and draw your own conclusions. That is, after all, what good history and good journalism encourage us to do.