Born on Aug. 1, 1941, in Los Angeles, Michael Arthur Ledeen came of age in a world shadowed by totalitarianism. His academic journey began at the University of Wisconsin–Madison, where, under the tutelage of the eminent historian George Mosse, he earned a Ph.D. in history and philosophy. His dissertation on Italian fascism’s international ambitions, later published as Universal Fascism in 1972, revealed a scholar unafraid to dissect the mechanics of authoritarianism. Ledeen’s early years in Rome, teaching and working with Italian historian Renzo De Felice, shaped his worldview, instilling a deep suspicion of centralized power and a belief in human freedom as the antidote to oppression. Italy wasn’t just a backdrop; it was where Ledeen honed his intellectual edge, mastered the art of political intrigue, and developed a lifelong love for the country’s culture — and its cuisine.

By the 1970s, Ledeen had pivoted from academia to journalism, serving as a Rome correspondent for the New Republic. His pen was sharp, his instincts sharper. In 1980, alongside Arnaud de Borchgrave, he penned exposés on Billy Carter’s ties to Libya’s Muammar Gaddafi, stirring controversy and showcasing his knack for uncovering inconvenient truths. But it was during the Reagan administration when Ledeen found his true calling. Recruited in 1981 as a special adviser on terrorism to former Secretary of State Alexander Haig, Ledeen became a key player in the Cold War’s endgame. His most audacious — and little-known — triumph came in 1983, when he persuaded former Italian Prime Minister Bettino Craxi to allow U.S. Pershing II missiles in Western Europe, a move that tilted the strategic balance against the Soviet Union. As David P. Goldman said in the Asia Times, Ledeen’s “personal contribution to America’s victory in the Cold War is far greater than the public record shows.”

However, Ledeen’s role in the Iran-Contra affair cast a shadow over his legacy. As a consultant to the National Security Council, he facilitated contacts with Iranian arms dealer Manucher Ghorbanifar to secure the release of hostages in Lebanon, a scheme that funneled arms to Nicaraguan contras. Though never charged with wrongdoing, Ledeen’s involvement made him a lightning rod for criticism. He leaned into the controversy with characteristic wit, keeping a Darth Vader mask in his office as a nod to his detractors’ caricature of him as a dark puppet-master.

Undeterred, Ledeen’s intellectual firepower found a home at the American Enterprise Institute, where he was the Freedom Scholar chairman for two decades before moving to the Foundation for Defense of Democracies. His prolific output — some three dozen books, countless essays, and a blog titled “Faster, Please” at PJ Media — cemented Ledeen’s reputation as a neoconservative titan. His mantra, “faster, please,” encapsulated his impatience with diplomatic dithering and his belief that the United States should act decisively to topple tyrants, particularly Iran’s theocratic regime. Ledeen’s fixation on Tehran, which he saw as the nexus of global terrorism, drew both admiration and scorn. Critics such as Peter Beinart called Ledeen’s views “bizarre,” but his supporters, including Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, praised his clarity and courage.

Ledeen’s advocacy wasn’t just theoretical. He and his wife, Barbara, opened their Chevy Chase home to Iranian dissidents, even funding medical treatment for one, Ahmad Batebi, without ever seeking credit. His support for Trump and co-authoring The Field of Fight with Gen. Michael Flynn cost him friendships but reflected his unwavering commitment to a muscular U.S. foreign policy.

DAVID SOUTER, 1939-2025

Beyond the policy battles, Ledeen was a man of contradictions: a scholar who played bridge with Omar Sharif, a hawk who loved Italian opera, and a provocateur who cherished his family. His wife, a Senate Judiciary Committee staffer, and their children — sons Gabriel and Daniel, Marine veterans, and daughter Simone, an intelligence officer — were his anchor. His home was a salon for young intellectuals, where debates over fascism and freedom flowed as freely as the wine.

Ledeen’s life was a testament to the power of ideas wielded with conviction. He saw the world as a chessboard, not for games but for battles that shaped history. As we bid farewell to this warrior scholar, one imagines him at some cosmic trattoria, savoring a plate of carbonara, a glass of Chianti in hand, urging the world to topple tyranny just a bit faster, please.

Daniel Ross Goodman is a Washington Examiner contributing writer and the author, most recently, of Soloveitchik’s Children: Irving Greenberg, David Hartman, Jonathan Sacks, and the Future of Jewish Theology in America.