Do you find yourself struggling to explain to your nonpolitical friends why you are not rooting wildly for the Bush administration these days? Do you sometimes wonder how to best explain why other countries may not be appreciating America as they "should"?

If all this sounds familiar, this book--widely acclaimed and a bestseller in Europe--may help. Ziauddin Sardar is a frequent contributor to British periodicals. Merryl Wyn Davies is a former television producer with the BBC. Together they have produced a tightly argued book easily understood by any educated layperson and yet eye-opening even to those more historically and culturally aware. Indeed, this is a book that, while easily read in a couple evenings, invites serious and sustained reflection.

"This is not a book about 9-11," the authors say right at the start. But clearly it is a book written about the question on many persons' minds immediately after that tragedy unfolded. Why DO people dislike America? It is a question that even President Bush felt compelled to address immediately after that fateful day, although many saw his answer for what it was: self-serving and completely lacking in any willingness to listen to those other voices with so much to say.

But this is a book that does listen--and then looks beneath the surface to see what it all means. It notes that hatred of America is one of the few universals that unite people around the world in these postmodern times. Religious fundamentalists, liberals, European academics, Africans, Latin Americans, even Canadians--all seem to loathe America. Such a universal reaction must have deeply entrenched, "subterranean" causes.

The book notes that there are several commonly cited reasons why America is hated: its support of Israel, its support for brutal authoritarian regimes like Saudi Arabia and Egypt, and its frequent military interventions in the developing world. But it's more than just this, the authors argue. Furthermore, they note, other frequently cited reasons--such as our hegemonic cultural influence--often "come wrapped in equal amounts of love." The rest of the world is fascinated by Hollywood and rock and roll, as much as they may fret over its influence. As the authors say: "America seduces and horrifies at the same time." So what is going on?

To answer this, the book explores the peculiarities of the American mindset. It dissects the American western movie, and the myth of redemptive violence that typifies these stories. The victims are always evil, and there is never any grieving that goes on for those who have been killed. This includes Indians just as much as cattle thieves. "It is this American propensity to eulogize violence," say Sardar and Davies, " and not to contemplate its human cost, not to empathize with the human experience of the consequences of violence, that strikes fear and enmity into the hearts of people the world over."

But part of the genius of this book is the way in which it goes deeper even than this. The authors trace the history of American violence back through our treatment of Native Americans to medieval Europe, and the crusade there (literally and figuratively) against the Jews and Moslems. "[W]hat is clear," say the authors, "is how the old and familiar reflexes of thought shaped in the medieval power rivalry between Christendom and Islam were extended to manufacture the ideas, attitudes and means of dealing with Native Americans." The sense of our own superiority and superior right, and the enduring otherness and inferiority of others, were simply transferred to Native Americans, with the results following, with which we are all too familiar.

It is these tragic results, of course, which continue to play themselves out. The authors note especially the ways they have been manifested since World War II. To take one example, they note that at the end of the first Gulf War the US with no apparent qualms buried alive 150,000 Iraqi conscripts who had surrendered and were absolutely no threat. At more length they discuss other American interventions in Nicaragua, Guatemala, Bolivia, and so on through literally dozens of countries--with all their accompanying terrors.

The authors note, too, the hypocrisy of much of the US's actions, which purportedly stands for human rights but then refuses, for example, to ratify the landmark 1989 UN Convention on the Rights of the Child. They discuss the ways in which American economic hegemony has devastated the rest of the world as the US uses its superior economic muscle to force open markets, drive down commodity prices, and literally deprive most developing nations of the ability to control their own economic destinies. Raw fear, it is easy to see, is what drives so much of anti-American feeling.

In the last chapter the authors summarize their four main reasons why America is hated, couched almost in religious language. They argue that America has literally made it difficult for other people to exist, both physically and culturally. Furthermore, America is such a hyperpower that it seems to be the prime cause of everything; if the US opposes the Palestinians or Kyoto or the UN they simply don't move forward. Finally, America tries (and often succeeds) in controlling the meaningful definitions. America is the "Axis of Good," so whoever opposes it becomes the "Axis of Evil." Democracy and human rights become whatever the US says they are. The US, as the authors say, is the storyteller of the world.

But there other stories, many others, and many far more true, and that in the end is what creates hope. The authors close with a quote from the prayer of St. Francis:

O Master, grant that I may never seek
So much to be consoled as to console,
To be understood, as to understand,
To be loved, as to love, with all my soul.

Now, if only that were the prayer of our president!