Arms and influence

Optimism thwarted

Maybe blogs about national security often take a dour tone because of the subject matter. Or maybe if your bodily humors lean in a melancholic direction, you find yourself attracted to national security studies. Whatever.

Anyway, a few days ago, I was ready to say a few positive words about the Bush Administration's willingness to put some distance between itself and Musharraf. It may be a few years overdue, but it's there.

However, the "few years overdue" part is significant, given the volatility of Pakistani politics. No amount of Western support ensured the survival of Bhutto, Zia, or other past occupants of Musharraf's current role. Certainly, you don't want to undermine the top leader of Pakistan, but you don't want to bind your fortunes to his person too much.

While Musharraf is still alive, the role he played in US policy for Central Asia is in jeopardy. If Musharraf uses the Bhutto assassination to justify jailing more politicians and journalists, giving the security forces more latitude in deciding which war they want to fight, or suspending the elections, the US-Musharraf relationship will be effectively moribund. What then?

While US officials dither or decide, the problems that Musharraf was supposed to help the United States solve or contain remain. The civil war in Afghanistan continues; so do worries about Pakistan's nuclear arsenal.

Whoa, here comes that melancholy again.

Poisonous words

Armchair Generalist has a short review of Poisonous Affair: America, Iraq, and the Gassing of Halabja that's worth reading. As you might expect, the book adds depth and complexity to our understanding of one of the signature events of the last few decades, Iraq's use of chemical weapons against its own population. By "depth," I mean details that show how countries develop and use chemical arsenals. By "complexity," I mean the larger story around a particular incident, including the US government's willingness to turn a blind eye to Iraq's chemical weapons program during the 1980s, when containment of Iran was the bigger priority.

A side note: we've yet to come to grips, morally and practically, with chemical, biological, and nuclear weapons. A sure sign is when you don't know what to call something: are they weapons of mass destruction? Not exactly, since chemical and biological weapons might be used "tactically" (i.e., in a very limited scope on the battlefield), and not just "strategically" (intended for mass destruction). Is it better to call them unconventional weapons? It depends on the context, perhaps. For national militaries, they certainly are a different category than small arms, tanks, and helicopters. However, for anyone in the business of inspiring terror (governments and private organizations may both apply), they're just another kind of terror weapon, with particular advantages and disadvantages.

Maybe it's not worth trying to lump them together at all--except in the contexts, such as proliferation of them as terror weapons, when they do inspire a shared abhorrence. If we choose a term that names but encapsulates all of them, such as CBRN (chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear). Unfortunately, naming all of them begs the question, how are these things alike?

If you can't name something effectively, good luck on managing it.

Another day in Hobbesville

A short time ago, the possibility of Turkish military attacks into the nominal territory of Iraq was front-page news. Now, the reality of regular air and artillery strikes on suspected PKK positions only merits page 14 coverage in The Washington Post. If anyone needs another sign of how wrecked the Iraqi polity is, there you go.

Revenge of the Gosslings

One side of the missing interrogation tapes story that hasn't been discussed enough is the following question: To what extent is the culture of the "new CIA" to blame?

By the "new CIA," I mean the infusion of less experienced but politically orthodox employees that spiked when Porter Goss became Director. In 2005, Goss' appointment started a wave of resignations, including some very senior, very experienced people from the covert action side of the CIA. Goss and his entourage had been hostile to the traditional Agency for years; seeing them walking in the front door, many career CIA employees decided to exit through the back.

Goss may be gone, but his legacy remains. A decade or so ago, the people who worked at the CIA inherited generations of experience at spycraft. That legacy was often quite literal: some CIA operatives were the children of former operatives. The CIA's history was definitely marred by major errors, from the failure to predict the collapse of the USSR to the immoral testing of LSD on unwitting subjects. Still, the Agency learned some of the important lessons from its successes and failures; certainly, the decades of institutional experience were a vital commodity.

The Agency also learned the inevitability of legal discovery. From the Church Committee through the FBI probes in the 1990s, CIA employees have had ample reminders that their actions might fall under legal scrutiny.

However, that's probably not the expectation of the "Gosslings." Instead, many of them brought to the Agency the "pull no punches, be bound by no law" attitude that the Bush Administration encouraged throughout the executive branch.  In other words, some of the people who might have been involved in the decision to destroy the interrogation tapes were guided not by decades of hard-won CIA experience, but the fantasies of the Fox scriptwriters behind the 24 TV series.

It's therefore pointless for Porter Goss to throw up his hands and claim that he had nothing to do with the destruction of the tapes, any more than Henry II could be held blameless for wishing aloud that something would be done about that meddlesome priest.

The Bhutto assassination

Shocking. Horrifying. And, of course, it begs the question, "What now?"

Obviously, it's too early to pick a perpetrator. However, the strongest suspects are the Sunni militant groups, the Spah-e-Sahaba, or its rival splinter organization, Lashkar-i-Jangvi. Both are responsible for widespread terrorism in Pakistan, from attacks on minority Shi'ites to the assassination of journalist Daniel Pearl. Both believe the same as their Taliban and Al Qaeda allies, that the only legitimate government of Pakistan would be an Islamist state.

Benazir Bhutto, therefore, sits at the pinnacle of things that offend them. She is running for election, when these groups want elections to end. She is willing to work with the United States and Europe. And, of course, she is a woman.

However, Bhutto isn't the only target. On the same day, a sniper fired on Nawaz Sharif. The same group may be responsible for both assassination attempts; the group or groups responsible may be Spah-e-Sahaba and Lashkar-i-Jangvi. We don't know yet.

That uncertainty, however, adds fuel to the already incendiary politics of Pakistan. Suspicion will also fall on Musharraf, particularly since it's likely that he will tighten police and military control, and possibly suspend the elections. The fact that Musharraf has also been the regular target of assassination attempts may be lost in the outrage over Bhutto's death.

The assassination occurs at a bad time for US officials. Already, high-ranking diplomats and military officers were quoted in a series of New York Times articles detailing the problems with the US alliance with the Pakistani government. Pakistani security forces aren't vigorously fighting the Taliban and Al Qaeda cells within their borders, leading to the conclusion that billions of dollars of military aid were largely wasted.

The Administration is clearly putting some daylight between itself and Musharraf; now, with Bhutto's assassination, it will be more difficult to pressure him, the Pakistani military, or the intelligence services.

The worst consequence of Bhutto's assassination is heightened fear and anxiety. Militant Islamists aren't confined to the distant "tribal areas;" instead, they're able to kill even one of the best-protected leaders, in one of the most heavily-policed cities.

Three doors down, down, down

While waiting for Charlie Wilson's War (good movie, by the way) to start, we also saw the latest National Guard recruitment video. I've seen two such videos, and they both really rankled me. First, the producers of the video need to be honest about what National Guard service entails: the probability of fighting in Iraq is higher than that of providing disaster relief. (Of course, that's a problem in itself, if another natural disaster occurs.) Second, is paying a B-grade band like Three Doors Down to do a high-gloss video as good a use of scarce funds as, say, providing the Guard units in theater with better equipment?

The dark side of cat blogging

Other blogs have a tradition of cute cat blogging. To prove how adorable their pets are, bloggers post pictures of the beloved beasts, rolling on the floor, sleeping, playing with twine, etc.

I have to put up with a cat who posts taunts in the comments section of this blog. Baddas Cattacus (e-mail: [email protected]), I know who you are, and where you live. One more outburst from you, and I'll see you on Donald Rumsfeld's Island of Death for the final showdown. I fear you not.

Last-minute gift ideas

From Lawyers, Guns, and Money.

The army of none

The holiday season is the perfect time to release painfully bad news, since most media outlets won't be paying much attention. One such story, from the 12/20/07 edition of Government Executive (and missed in the New York Times and the Washington Post), is the budget shortfall for the US Army, which is paying the highest cost of the services for the continued wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

To meet its current commitments, and prepare for any other contingencies, the Army needs to expand, always the costliest line item in its budget. At the same time that it is struggling to recruit and retain personnel, so the per capita cost, including new incentives, is steadily rising. Nevertheless, the overall quality of of the people in the Army is continuing to degrade, so the return on investment isn't what it used to be. The Army's estimated cost for this expansion, $70.2 billion for 74,200 personnel, is hardly realistic.

Every year, the services grumble that they don't have enough money for equipment upgrades. Sometimes, those complaints aren't justified: for the missions the US military faces, many older systems have been good enough. In Operation DESERT STORM, both aged B-52 bombers and state-of-the-art F-117 stealth aircraft played important roles; however, the F-117 wasn't needed for every mission.

In this case, however, the Army's complaints about upgrades are definitely justified. For example, part of the "upgrade" includes equipment that National Guard units should have had when they were deployed to Iraq, but didn't.

Another key improvement, the upgrade to the Army's helicopter fleet, can sharpen the Army's fighting edge in Iraq and Afghanistan, while blunting some of the political difficulties in these conflicts. (And, to be fair, these improvements are important for other future conflicts.) For example, upgrading the OH-58 Kiowa reconnaissance helicopter, or replacing it with its next generation equivalent, may improve battlefield intelligence. Finishing the task of replacing the weapons and detection gear on the Apache attack helicopter would increase the likelihood of finding and hitting targets small targets, in spite of dust or darkness.

As long as the Army continues to fight in Iraq's and Afghanistan's populated areas, the accuracy of information and firepower can't be underestimated. Unfortunately, the total price tag is high, approximately $60 billion. While the Army might stagger these costs, or postpone indefinitely improvements to equipment in theaters of operations where combat isn't happening, some fraction of that $60 billion is necessary.

Of course, the alternative is to cut American losses and disengage from Iraq, since that war imposes huge manpower and equipment costs. If the United States is going to stay in Iraq, however, these costs must be paid. The Army can't continue bleeding past the point where it can't effectively fight in Iraq, and it's not ready to fight the next war somewhere else.

Christmas in California

Unless you spend your holiday in a mountain retreat like Lake Tahoe or Idyllwild, Christmas in California does not resemble the familiar yuletide imagery.  The Christmas landscape in the mythic, frozen moment of suburban American Godtime is smothered by snow, sheeted in ice. In the suburban reality of most of California, Christmas is a season of water. Rain makes its infrequent and therefore welcome visits to Southern California, delivering the gifts of added moisture to the irrigated desert and chaparral. Rain stays much longer in Northern California, as dreary by spring as the neighbor who leaves his Christmas lights hanging through Easter.

Of course, Christmas is the time when we embrace the world as we wish it would be, instead of the way it is, so Californians resolutely surround themselves with the iconography of Christmas for the 19th century British yeoman, or the 18th century New England townsperson. While focused on these snowy images, Californians try to ignore the rain. On the freeway, drivers either continue with the same speed and ferocity they use on sunnier days, or they slow down far more than practically necessary, but enough to silence their fears of what might happen to them during these unusual deluges.

Californians are not the only breed of Americans who either ignore the reality of December altogether, or become overwhelmed by it. Without the snow, we're just a bit more obvious in our habits. Elsewhere, Americans work hard at making the Christmas moment exactly right--whether that moment occurs when the children awaken on Christmas morning, or when the visiting relatives arrive from the airport, or when  loved ones have just the reaction for which you had hoped when you bought them the presents they're just unwrapping. Americans have a determined vision of how their Christmases should be.

Some people are good at making these moments happen. They're the people who have empathy with and  insight into the other people involved in these rituals. You have to know that Christmas morning is for the children. You learn to accept the accidental breaking of a $50 toy, or the year when your child is too old for Santa. You understand why relatives might want to visit, other than a flinty sense of obligation. You give gifts freely, without imposing another kind of obligation, the insistence that the recipients tell you exactly why they love their presents, whether or not they actually do.

The people who are bad at the Christmas moments are the ones who try to force everyone into the correct posture, words, and feelings. While the Godtime version of Christmas may provide important lessons about generosity, love, mirth, and renewal, these are exactly the things that cannot be compelled. Gifts become reciprocal duties, for the giver to give, and the receiver to receive, each in the proper way. In staged photos of families, friends, or co-workers, a rictus grin belies the real emotion of the moment. The fallacy of the statement, "It's Christmas, why can't you enjoy yourself?" is lost on the speaker.

Still, there are people who try, year after year, to enforce Christmas correctness. A dominating parent or an overbearing boss may have the skill to coax, bribe, whine, or intimidate people around them into assuming their place and pose in the Christmas tableau, as fixed and unlovely as the plastic Nativity figures that used to decorate the lawns of many Americans.

What does all this have to do with the usual topic of this blog? Everything.

In December 2007, many Americans are baffled that other countries don't want to take their places in our political tableau. We insist that we are loving, and we only want the best for them. Why then all this strife?

Perhaps if, during the rest of the year, we can't understand the reasons for resentment of the US occupation of Iraq, or the outrage over secret prisons, or the willingness to work with authoritarian leaders like Pakistan's Musharraf, or Uzbekistan's Karimov, Christmas lift the collective veil from our eyes. The American political vision is both moral and beautiful--much like the American imagery of the holiday season. It may not, however, ever completely resemble what exists in other countries. Even if the Framers had devised the perfect political system, it's not something that we can dictate to other societies. Allowing them to embrace it, or some version of it, is far better than insisting on it.

In other words, we have to be deft, not merely willful. Willfulness alone inspires resentment, not respect. Iraqis are neither children nor savages; therefore, it's unfair to them to suggest that democracy and the rule of law were doomed from the beginning. However, a constitution handed to the Iraqis by an occupying power was, unsurprisingly, not welcomed; looking for an alternate political identity, many Iraqis retreated into the factionalism that was both familiar and, as the violence increased, practical.

I don't mean to trivialize the war in Iraq by comparing it to a strained family gathering at Christmas. Far from it: I hope that, by recognizing the discomfort or pain some feel during the holidays, they can understand what a small fraction of unhappiness that is, compared to the plight of the average Iraqi or Afghan. In both cases, the insistence on a vision, even the most lovely or humane one, can have unlovely and inhumane results.

Enjoy the holidays, but don't be forced to enjoy them. Use the opportunity to make your friends and family, plus the people you hardly know, feel loved for who they are.