There are many good explanations for US policy
failures. Ignorance, stupidity,
arrogance all play a part, as do more specific desires to control various
happenings in various parts of the world.
But what all these failures have in common is a certain sort of naÏve
cowardice, a fear of ever encountering any bad consequences of any
decision. I call this aftermathophobia.
Perhaps the fear is not so much of the consequences
themselves as of what Americans will think of them: US foreign policy is increasingly determined
by what will play well or badly in the next election. The increase may be due to America's
realization that events abroad affect their interests even less than previously
imagined. Assuming America ever wants to
influence anything or anyone abroad, this has gone too far. The contempt of American 'power' has become
pervasive and overwhelming - a shame, because America's love for vile régimes
has faded and the US might actually do some good abroad. An understanding of aftermathophobia might help
push the US in better directions - and at the same time drag it out of virtual
helplessness on the international scene.
The US showed the world how to manage an aftermath with the
post-World-War-II Marshall Plan, a resounding success. It went downhill from there as the decline in
America's military fortunes bred an acute failure of nerve. Korea, an ambiguous 'draw', at least produced
a stable, prosperous South Korea, not least because the US was again prepared to
station large forces there for decades.
Then the defeat in Vietnam gave way to an aftermath entirely out of
America's control, not only there but in Laos and Cambodia. This disaster apparently spawned a pathologically
broad and deep fear of bad outcomes, complemented by an incorrigible desire to
minimize painful losses by substituting money for blood.
When the US saw the failure of its client army in Vietnam,
it responded by deploying more American troops.
This failed. Since then the US
had adopted the bizarre strategy of dogged reliance on client armies while
reducing US troop support. In
Afghanistan, over many years now, the US has saved American lives by relying on
laughably unreliable proxies, as if these client troops could count for
anything in the forces deployed against the Taliban. In Iraq it avoided an aftermath altogether by
refusing to enter Baghdad in the first Gulf War: that this led to a gruesome strangling of the
country and many thousands of civilian deaths mattered little. In the second Gulf War it relied again on client
forces and never committed the resources even to maintain basic control of its
conquest, with the terrible results we see today. No matter, it seems. American lives were saved.
This fixation on saving of American lives has all but
displaced consideration of policy objectives.
It entirely eclipses concern for the lives of anyone else. It has propelled the fear of bad consequences
to ridiculous extremes. America now
abhors bad consequences even when the risk to Americans is negligible, far less
than in its militarily modest Afghan and Iraqi adventures. Take note of how ludicrous this fear has
become.
For one thing, it's apparently now gospel that the US should
never pursue any alternative that might lead to arms falling into the wrong
hands. American leaders and analysts,
perhaps too far removed from the realities of warfare, can't get over its
sloppy unpredictables. We never hear the
end of how the US armed Bin Laden with, among other things, Stinger anti-aircraft
missiles. Is that because these weapons
enabled him to mount the 9-11 attacks with, um, a few box-cutters? Are we obsessed with the knapsacks used in
the July 7th bombings in London and the Madrid attacks? Is it really supposed that, had we just not
armed Bin Laden, all would be well in Afghanistan, where the Taliban is doing
just fine without the benefit of American equipment? American strategizing has been reduced to a
childish sort of score-keeping, where real disasters like the second Iraq war
are as nothing compared to even the most distant prospect of Americans, however
few, being killed with American weapons.
The full idiocy of the obsession with arms emerges with the
concern that IS now has American weapons.
Why does it have them? Because it
captured them from the government. In
civil wars, the insurgents typically do capture their weapons from the
government. So unless you don't arm
governments at all, some weapons you provide will fall likely into insurgent
hands. Why is this any particular
concern? Would it somehow be better if
the government had been armed with non-American weapons and the dreaded
insurgents wielded them instead?
Another childish obsession that guides US policy is
'trust'. We must have trusted
allies. What sort of trust is
expected? Eternal love? In the world wars, the various allied powers
had a more mature attitude. The
Americans, British and French allied with the Soviet Union yet fully believed
the Soviets had the intention and quite possibly the means to destroy
them. The Soviets had the same sort of
beliefs about their allies. Both judged
it best to ward off one threat of destruction now and deal with another
possibly resulting threat later. They
made specific preparations to do this.
In other words, they dealt with the fact that, of course, their allies
were not entirely to be trusted. They
saw the prospect of friends becoming enemies as an eventuality to be
confronted, not as some terminally humiliating faux-pas.
Instead of planning to deal with the undesirable
consequences of a strategy, the U.S. now looks for a strategy without
undesirable consequences. This is not an
adult approach to foreign policy. Indeed
it is not an adult approach to policy of any kind and it's not one practiced in
domestic politics. Obama's Medicare
policies, for example, are full of measures designed to avert potential
undesirable consequences: one of them is that small businesses get tax credits
to avoid excessively high health insurance premium costs. No one stops building transportation links
even though we know new links mean more usage and more fatal accidents. But in the Middle East, you don't deal with
dangers or disadvantages. You run from
them. You search for a future which,
however unlikely or horrific, has great potential to protect you from the accusation
that you've 'done stupid shit'.
How does this phobic behavior surface in the US' Syria
policy?
It is this phobia which makes the US fixated on creating its
own *trustworthy* client force in Syria, despite the fact that it has failed
miserably to create such forces in Iraq and Afghanistan. This ponderous, useless effort reflects a
desire to be certain there will be no bad consequences from supporting the
rebels. The same phobia accounts for the
disastrous strikes on Jabhat al Nusra, dedicated fighters against Assad. On the US' own account, the bombing campaign
cannot but benefit him. That doesn't
matter to the Americans because so many rebel groups are 'untrustworthy'. However much this helps Assad, however much
horror it causes and prolongs, however much it encourages anti-American
extremism, however much it undermines the prospects of regional stability -
none of this matters. All that matters
is that America does nothing whatsoever that could possibly have some bad
results.
Of course this caution is myopic. America's decisions don't
avoid bad consequences; they just make sure the bad consequences don't
obviously proceed directly from American actions. For example, the US doesn't provide serious
support to the Free Syrian Army (FSA) because it doesn't want to empower the
Islamists within the group, or the more radical Islamists outside the
group. It's horrified to see a mere
handful of FSA weapons appear in 'extremist' hands. The result?
The FSA is crippled. The
extremists provide, therefore, the best defense against Assad. They gain adherents. They capture far more weapons, 'advanced',
'heavy' and otherwise from the régime than they would ever have acquired from
the FSA. Indeed there is not a single
type of American-supplied weapon that has fallen into IS' hands, from tanks to
anti-tank missiles to heavy artillery and small arms, that IS did not possess
in abundance before its rise to power.
Almost all of it was captured from government bases.
But what of the future?
Even the US knows the rebels that dumping the rebels would cement its
growing reputation for weakness, cowardice and betrayal, not to mention signing
on to destabilizing horror. But what if
supporting the FSA will just lead to sectarian-fueled chaos? Again, no matter that such an outcome is equally
likely if the US does not support the
FSA. But what matters to the US is not
the outcome, but that the outcome is produced while the US stands on the
sidelines. No matter that the decision
to stand on the sidelines is just as much a decision and just as much
responsible for the results. What
matters that it will be a bit harder to blame the government for those results
come the next election.
This phobic approach produces paralysis when, as is usually
the case, all options raise at least the chance of bad consequences. All possible bad consequences, avoidable or
unavoidable, are taken to be fixed quantities, deal-breakers. All possible good consequences count for
nothing. If an option raises even a
chance at anything bad, even if all options have that taint, it counts as a
'bad option'. Bad options are to be
avoided, so the result is aimless fussing about how there are no good options.
Bleating that "there are no good options" is
infantile; it's like expressing outrage at the discovery of an imperfect
world. Grown-ups refine their assessment
of bad options. They seek ways to make
bad consequences less likely and good ones, moreso.
In Syria, for example, it won't do just to moan about how
there are so many groups, so disunited, so unreliable, so cozy with
'extremists'. Of course there is disunity; of
course there are extremists; of
course the moderates associate with extremists; of course they're so impure
that some of their weapons may end up in extremist hands. But disunity and extremism are far from fixed
phenomena. Observers on the ground have
noted that many Syrians side with extremists as the only option for fighting Assad
in their area, not to mention the only way to get enough of a salary to feed a
family. The 'extremists' themselves are
not all human bogey-men. They include
the sixteen year old kid who loves Al Qaeda "but also George Bush". They also include the many who change
allegiance as soon another group provides greater hope of security and
well-being. So an adult perspective on
aiding the FSA would be to understand that half-ass assistance has bad
consequences, while serious aid makes these consequences much less
probable. If the FSA is built into the
most powerful group, one which can pay decent salaries, there will be less
'disunity' because more people will gravitate towards the most powerful,
well-funded alternative. And with
serious aid, the US is in a much better position to demand good governance in
rebel-held areas, which again will bring more adherents. This sort of support will also make
'extremists' less extremist, because the US will be seen as a real help.
Of course none of
this will even in the best circumstances guarantee that Syria will be run by
squeaky clean secularist lovers of Freedom and Democracy. Some of the reasons go back to when the US
started getting hysterical about possible aftermaths. Since the 1950s, no indigenous movement for
fundamental change, no attempt to overthrow ossified old orders, has been good
enough for the West. They couldn't stomach the communists in Iran or Iraq or
Afghanistan. They couldn't handle the
Arab nationalists and their 'Arab socialism'.
Now they abhor Islamists, 'political Islam'. Yet political Islam is the only credible
alternative left now that, partly thanks to American fears about bad outcomes,
secularism has produced little but the most blood-thirsty, politically vacuous
governments in the region's history. So
yes, even if the US takes a first step towards amending the disgraceful
secularist record, it is not likely to produce a régime in love with Western
democracy.
Yet Western concern about aftermaths is almost comical. The idea seems to be that disaster looms if
the West isn't free to 'build nations'.
Yet there is little reason to see tragedy in the region's future falling
from Western hands. The places where the
West really was forced to leave, where some dreaded local solution was imposed
on the West by force of arms, also count as some of the few places where, from
a strictly Western point of view, the aftermath has worked out very well. The French defeat in Algeria brought nothing
but excellent and mutually profitable relations between Algeria and
France. The American defeat in Vietnam
has evolved into such good relations that America has just approved arms sales to that country. And what of the dreaded
domino effect that did in fact envelop Laos and Cambodia? Not that Western interests were at stake, but
the horrors of Pol Pot were stopped, not by the West but by the dastardly
Vietnamese communists. Today Laos and
Cambodia must be among the nations that pose the least worry for America and
its allies. Contrast this with the places
where the West had limitless opportunity to indulge its fantasies of 'nation-building'!
Perhaps then it is time to learn something from what
international politics was in the days of Metternich and Bismark, before
Woodrow Wilson imposed a blundering American Protestantism on its
practice. The old-school diplomats
didn't go fussing about the 'values' of other nations. Unlike some of the cheerleaders for
colonial empires, they didn't want to
promote their own 'values'. This doesn't
mean the West needs to emulate their callousness and brutality. Perhaps, though, it's time to realize that
problems go away only when there is fundamental change, and fundamental change
most often comes from forces more radical than those who bleat about 'freedom
and democracy'. In particular it seems
clear that, having destroyed or connived at destruction of the left in the
Middle East, the West likely has no choice but to accept Islamist solutions if there's any hope
for an end to the domination of ossified élites, and the oppression that breeds
extremist responses. Arm the rebels in
Syria, with full knowledge that the outcome may bring some 'bad guys' to
power. Don't suppose that the bankrupt
strategies of client armies supplemented by timid injections of American ground
forces are better than the less risky policy of supporting local forces but
letting them choose their own futures. And do grow up about 'bad guys'.