Brian J. Peterson's Thomas Sankara is a poignant and compelling account of one of postcolonial Africa's most innovative and progressive leaders, who was assassinated in a home-grown military coup assisted by foreign powers. Through meticulous oral and archival research, Peterson reconstructs the complex historical figure who was both idolized and hated, erased from official histories, and idealized in popular collective memory—and places him in the context of his people, place, and times.As a young army officer, Sankara came to power in 1983 after a military coup in the wake of widespread popular protest. A worldwide decline in commodity prices had hit African countries hard, driving many deeply into debt. To acquire desperately needed international bank loans, governments were forced to implement free-market economic policies promoted by the World Bank, International Monetary Fund (IMF), and Western states and banks. These measures included ending state subsidies on essential foodstuffs, laying off civil servants, privatizing state-run health care, education, commerce, and industry, and prioritizing cash crops for export over food security. Corruption escalated, as elites acquired formerly state-run businesses and industries. In Burkina Faso, economic hardship was compounded by severe drought. Citizens took to the streets, condemning corruption and imperialism and demanding government accountability and democracy.Rejecting externally imposed conditions as an infringement on African sovereignty, Sankara's government adopted its own austerity measures, cutting civil servants’ salaries, eliminating elite privileges, and reducing the size of the government bureaucracy. However, Sankara also exhorted African countries not to repay debts that were the product of extractive colonial economies. He promoted the redistribution of wealth from urban elites to the rural majority and redirected state revenues into health care and education. He championed economic self-reliance, food sovereignty, and women's liberation and cracked down on corrupt officials.Sankara's new way attracted avid supporters and created bitter enemies. In Burkina Faso, his pro-democracy, anti-corruption, anti-imperial critique of capitalism and his progressive policies threatened the old political class, traditional chiefs, urban elites, and French businesses. His agenda also worried autocrats in neighboring francophone countries. Influenced by Marxism-Leninism, Catholicism, Liberation Theology, Pan-Africanism, and Third Worldism, Sankara was the embodiment of nonalignment. Yet, the Western media characterized him as a “Communist,” “pro-Libyan,” and a “military dictator.” His enemies at home and abroad mobilized to seize power.In 1987, Sankara was assassinated in a military coup led by his long-time friend and right-hand man, Captain Blaise Compaoré. Peterson's sources show that Sankara's ouster was backed by France, Côte d'Ivoire, Libya, and future Liberian warlords, with the diplomatic support of several francophone neighbors. Economic pressure was applied by the IMF, which refused to provide loans without strict conditions, and by France and the United States, which withheld economic assistance. Libya provided arms to Compaoré. France shared intelligence with Sankara's enemies in the Burkina Faso military and in Côte d'Ivoire. Graduates of the U.S. Defense Department's International Military Education and Training (IMET) program, who occupied key posts in the government, were implicated in the coup and in Sankara's assassination. The plotters were aided by growing domestic disenchantment. The economic crisis had led to years of austerity, sacrifice, obligatory participation in public works projects, and bans on or taxation of luxury and non-essential imports. Trade unionists, civil servants, and students withdrew their support for Sankara.Peterson provides a vivid portrayal of Sankara's rise and fall and then turns to the recreation of Sankara in collective memory. Threatened by Sankara's potential appeal as a revolutionary martyr, the Compaoré regime attempted to wipe the dead leader from popular imagination. Sankara's books, papers, and photographs were destroyed, and public references to him were forbidden. His allies were rounded up by the hundreds, imprisoned, tortured, and killed. Compaoré publicly claimed that Sankara was a traitor to the revolution who had sold out to foreign interests.Despite these efforts, Peterson argues, a popular counter-memory grew. Government documents designated for destruction were instead smuggled out of the country. Teachers covertly taught about Sankara, his vision, and his accomplishments. Internationally, Sankara became even more popular in death, especially among African youth and progressives elsewhere who had not experienced the vicissitudes of the revolution. The new imaginings often idealized him, ignoring mistakes and misjudgments. As poverty, corruption, and repression intensified under Compaoré, Sankara's aspirations and objectives were adapted to new circumstances. The democratization of media in the 21st century led to an explosion of pro-Sankara material. Sankara's image and sayings appeared on posters and T-shirts and in the songs of activists who were born after Sankara's death. In 2014, after 27 years of dictatorship, Compaoré was forced from power by protesters who claimed Sankara's mantle.Peterson situates Sankara's life in its historical context—the turbulent times of colonialism, decolonization, the Cold War, and neoliberalism. He uses the leader's life as a window into the complex political and economic realities of Africa since the end of colonialism. Eschewing the outmoded “great man” view of history, he presents Sankara as a visionary who was part of a broader social movement comprising urban workers, students, and leftist political parties. These actors fed Sankara's vision and shaped his message.Peterson provides a new, more complex, and more critical appraisal than many earlier works. He details Sankara's accomplishments and errors and offers conflicting views of Sankara's record. Among the few exceptions to this characterization of earlier literature is Ernest Harsch, Thomas Sankara: An African Revolutionary (Athens, OH: Ohio University Press, 2014), which offers a similarly balanced but briefer account that is particularly well-suited to students and popular audiences. Because Sankara presented his vision orally, Peterson's sources included Sankara's speeches, radio and television broadcasts, and interviews, as recorded or published by journalists and supporters, as well as newspapers from the revolutionary period. Challenged by the destruction of the Sankara government's papers, Peterson sought out personal collections of salvaged records and conducted more than 100 interviews with Sankara's family members and associates, labor leaders, grassroots activists, journalists, foreign diplomats, and scholars, who recounted their memories of the revolution, the coup, and the events leading to it. He culled information from previously classified U.S. diplomatic cables, including those from U.S. embassies in Burkina Faso, Côte d'Ivoire, Cuba, France, Mali, Niger, and Senegal, which exposed domestic and international efforts to undermine the Sankara government. Colonial-era reports provided the historical context for Sankara's formation as a revolutionary and his rise to power. Unfortunately missing are French government documents pertaining to Sankara and his government, which remain classified under the label “secret défense.”In sum, Peterson's Thomas Sankara deepens our knowledge of the vision and actions of an important African leader who has received far too little scholarly attention. The monograph constitutes an important contribution to our understanding of the complex political, economic, and social dynamics that shaped African countries during the Cold War. It is highly recommended for scholars and students of Africa and is an essential acquisition for college and university libraries.