Imagine it's six months from now. The Iraq war is over. After an
initial burst of joy and gratitude at being liberated from Saddam's
rule, the people of Iraq are watching, and waiting, and beginning to
chafe under American occupation. Across the border, in Syria, Saudi
Arabia, and Iran, our conquering presence has brought street
protests and escalating violence. The United Nations and NATO are in
disarray, so America is pretty much on its own. Hemmed in by budget
deficits at home and limited financial assistance from allies, the
Bush administration is talking again about tapping Iraq's oil
reserves to offset some of the costs of the American presence--talk
that is further inflaming the region. Meanwhile, U.S. intelligence
has discovered fresh evidence that, prior to the war, Saddam moved
quantities of biological and chemical weapons to Syria. When Syria
denies having such weapons, the administration starts massing troops
on the Syrian border. But as they begin to move, there is an
explosion: Hezbollah terrorists from southern Lebanon blow
themselves up in a Baghdad restaurant, killing dozens of Western aid
workers and journalists. Knowing that Hezbollah has cells in
America, Homeland Security Secretary Tom Ridge puts the nation back
on Orange Alert. FBI agents start sweeping through mosques, with a
new round of arrests of Saudis, Pakistanis, Palestinians, and
Yemenis.
To most Americans, this would sound like a frightening state of
affairs, the kind that would lead them to wonder how and why we had
got ourselves into this mess in the first place. But to the Bush
administration hawks who are guiding American foreign policy, this
isn't the nightmare scenario. It's everything going as anticipated.
In their view, invasion of Iraq was not merely, or even
primarily, about getting rid of Saddam Hussein. Nor was it really
about weapons of mass destruction, though their elimination was an
important benefit. Rather, the administration sees the invasion as
only the first move in a wider effort to reorder the power structure
of the entire Middle East. Prior to the war, the president himself
never quite said this openly. But hawkish neoconservatives within
his administration gave strong hints. In February, Undersecretary of
State John Bolton told Israeli officials that after defeating Iraq,
the United States would "deal with" Iran, Syria, and North Korea.
Meanwhile, neoconservative journalists have been channeling the
administration's thinking. Late last month, The Weekly Standard's
Jeffrey Bell reported that the administration has in mind a "world
war between the United States and a political wing of Islamic
fundamentalism ... a war of such reach and magnitude [that] the
invasion of Iraq, or the capture of top al Qaeda commanders, should
be seen as tactical events in a series of moves and countermoves
stretching well into the future."
In short, the administration is trying to roll the table--to use
U.S. military force, or the threat of it, to reform or topple
virtually every regime in the region, from foes like Syria to
friends like Egypt, on the theory that it is the undemocratic nature
of these regimes that ultimately breeds terrorism. So events that
may seem negative--Hezbollah for the first time targeting American
civilians; U.S. soldiers preparing for war with Syria--while
unfortunate in themselves, are actually part of the hawks' broader
agenda. Each crisis will draw U.S. forces further into the region
and each countermove in turn will create problems that can only be
fixed by still further American involvement, until democratic
governments--or, failing that, U.S. troops--rule the entire Middle
East.
There is a startling amount of deception in all this--of hawks
deceiving the American people, and perhaps in some cases even
themselves. While it's conceivable that bold American action could
democratize the Middle East, so broad and radical an initiative
could also bring chaos and bloodshed on a massive scale. That all
too real possibility leads most establishment foreign policy hands,
including many in the State Department, to view the Bush plan with
alarm. Indeed, the hawks' record so far does not inspire confidence.
Prior to the invasion, for instance, they predicted that if the
United States simply announced its intention to act against Saddam
regardless of how the United Nations voted, most of our allies,
eager to be on our good side, would support us. Almost none did. Yet
despite such grave miscalculations, the hawks push on with their
sweeping new agenda.
Like any group of permanent Washington revolutionaries fueled by
visions of a righteous cause, the neocons long ago decided that
criticism from the establishment isn't a reason for self-doubt but
the surest sign that they're on the right track. But their
confidence also comes from the curious fact that much of what could
go awry with their plan will also serve to advance it. A full-scale
confrontation between the United States and political Islam, they
believe, is inevitable, so why not have it now, on our terms, rather
than later, on theirs? Actually, there are plenty of good reasons
not to purposely provoke a series of crises in the Middle East. But
that's what the hawks are setting in motion, partly on the theory
that the worse things get, the more their approach becomes the only
plausible solution.
Moral Cloudiness
Ever since the neocons burst upon the public policy scene 30
years ago, their movement has been a marriage of moral idealism,
military assertiveness, and deception. Back in the early 1970s, this
group of then-young and still mostly Democratic political
intellectuals grew alarmed by the post-Vietnam Democrats' seeming
indifference to the Soviet threat. They were equally appalled,
however, by the amoral worldview espoused by establishment
Republicans like Henry Kissinger, who sought co-existence with the
Soviet Union. As is often the case with ex-socialists, the neocons
were too familiar with communist tactics to ignore or romanticize
communism's evils. The fact that many neocons were Jewish, and
outraged by Moscow's increasingly visible persecution of Jews, also
caused them to reject both the McGovernite and Kissingerian
tendencies to ignore such abuses.
In Ronald Reagan, the neocons
found a politician they could embrace. Like them, Reagan spoke
openly about the evils of communism and, at least on the peripheries
of the Cold War, preferred rollback to coexistence. Neocons filled
the Reagan administration, and men like Paul Wolfowitz, Richard
Perle, Frank Gaffney, and others provided the intellectual ballast
and moral fervor for the sharp turn toward confrontation that the
United States adopted in 1981.
But achieving moral clarity often requires hiding certain
realities. From the beginning, the neocons took a much more alarmist
view of Soviet capacities and intentions than most experts. As late
as 1980, the ur-neocon Norman Podhoretz warned of the imminent
"Finlandization of America, the political and economic subordination
of the United States to superior Soviet power," even raising the
possibility that America's only options might be "surrender or war."
We now know, of course, that U.S. intelligence estimates, which many
neocons thought underestimated the magnitude and durability of
Soviet power, in fact wildly overestimated them.
This willingness to deceive--both themselves and others--expanded
as neocons grew more comfortable with power. Many spent the Reagan
years orchestrating bloody wars against Soviet proxies in the Third
World, portraying thugs like the Nicaraguan Contras and plain
murderers like Jonas Savimbi of Angola as "freedom fighters." The
nadir of this deceit was the Iran-Contra scandal, for which
Podhoretz's son-in-law, Elliot Abrams, pled guilty to perjury.
Abrams was later pardoned by Bush's father, and today, he runs
Middle East policy in the Bush White House.
But in the end, the Soviet Union did fall. And the hawks' policy
of confrontation did contribute to its collapse. So too, of course,
did the economic and military rot most of the hawks didn't believe
in, and the reforms of Mikhail Gorbachev, whom neocons such as
Richard Perle counseled Reagan not to trust. But the neocons did not
dwell on what they got wrong. Rather, the experience of having
played a hand in the downfall of so great an evil led them to the
opposite belief: that it's okay to be spectacularly wrong, even
brazenly deceptive about the details, so long as you have moral
vision and a willingness to use force.
What happened in the 1990s further reinforced that mindset. Hawks
like Perle and William Kristol pulled their hair out when
Kissingerians like Brent Scowcroft and Colin Powell left Saddam's
regime in place after the first Gulf War. They watched with mounting
fury as terrorist attacks by Muslim fundamentalists claimed more and
more American and Israeli lives. They considered the Oslo accords an
obvious mistake (how can you negotiate with a man like Yasir
Arafat?), and as the decade progressed they became increasingly
convinced that there was a nexus linking burgeoning terrorism and
mounting anti-Semitism with repressive but nominally "pro-American"
regimes like Saudi Arabia and Egypt. In 1996, several of the
hawks--including Perle--even tried to sell Israeli Prime Minister
Benjamin Netanyahu on the idea that Israel should attack Saddam on
its own--advice Netanyahu wisely declined. When the Oslo process
crumbled and Saudi Arabian terrorists killed 3,000 Americans on
9/11, the hawks felt, not without some justification, that they had
seen this danger coming all along, while others had ignored it. The
timing was propitious, because in September 2001 many already held
jobs with a new conservative president willing to hear their pitch.
Prime Minister bin Laden
The pitch was this: The Middle East today is like the Soviet
Union 30 years ago. Politically warped fundamentalism is the
contemporary equivalent of communism or fascism. Terrorists with
potential access to weapons of mass destruction are like an arsenal
pointed at the United States. The primary cause of all this danger
is the Arab world's endemic despotism, corruption, poverty, and
economic stagnation. Repressive regimes channel dissent into the
mosques, where the hopeless and disenfranchised are taught a brand
of Islam that combines anti-modernism, anti-Americanism, and a
worship of violence that borders on nihilism. Unable to overthrow
their own authoritarian rulers, the citizenry turns its fury against
the foreign power that funds and supports these corrupt regimes to
maintain stability and access to oil: the United States. As Johns
Hopkins University professor Fouad Ajami recently wrote in
Foreign Affairs, "The great indulgence granted to the ways
and phobias of Arabs has reaped a terrible harvest"--terrorism.
Trying to "manage" this dysfunctional Islamic world, as Clinton
attempted and Colin Powell counsels us to do, is as foolish,
unproductive, and dangerous as détente was with the Soviets, the
hawks believe. Nor is it necessary, given the unparalleled power of
the American military. Using that power to confront Soviet communism
led to the demise of that totalitarianism and the establishment of
democratic (or at least non-threatening) regimes from the Black Sea
to the Baltic Sea to the Bering Strait. Why not use that same power
to upend the entire corrupt Middle East edifice and bring liberty,
democracy, and the rule of law to the Arab world?
The hawks' grand plan differs depending on whom you speak to, but
the basic outline runs like this: The United States establishes a
reasonably democratic, pro-Western government in Iraq--assume it
falls somewhere between Turkey and Jordan on the spectrum of
democracy and the rule of law. Not perfect, representative
democracy, certainly, but a system infinitely preferable to
Saddam's. The example of a democratic Iraq will radically change the
political dynamics of the Middle East. When Palestinians see average
Iraqis beginning to enjoy real freedom and economic opportunity,
they'll want the same themselves. With that happy prospect on one
hand and implacable United States will on the other, they'll demand
that the Palestinian Authority reform politically and negotiate with
Israel. That in turn will lead to a real peace deal between the
Israelis and Palestinians. A democratic Iraq will also hasten the
fall of the fundamentalist Shi'a mullahs in Iran, whose citizens are
gradually adopting anti-fanatic, pro-Western sympathies. A
democratized Iran would create a string of democratic, pro-Western
governments (Turkey, Iraq, and Iran) stretching across the
historical heartland of Islam. Without a hostile Iraq towering over
it, Jordan's pro-Western Hashemite monarchy would likely come into
full bloom. Syria would be no more than a pale reminder of the bad
old days. (If they made trouble, a U.S. invasion would take care of
them, too.) And to the tiny Gulf emirates making hesitant steps
toward democratization, the corrupt regimes of Saudi Arabia and
Egypt would no longer look like examples of stability and strength
in a benighted region, but holdouts against the democratic tide.
Once the dust settles, we could decide whether to ignore them as
harmless throwbacks to the bad old days or deal with them, too. We'd
be in a much stronger position to do so since we'd no longer require
their friendship to help us manage ugly regimes in Iraq, Iran, and
Syria.
The audacious nature of the neocons' plan makes it easy to
criticize but strangely difficult to dismiss outright. Like a
character in a bad made-for-TV thriller from the 1970s, you can hear
yourself saying, "That plan's just crazy enough to work."
But like a TV plot, the hawks' vision rests on a willing
suspension of disbelief, in particular, on the premise that every
close call will break in our favor: The guard will fall asleep next
to the cell so our heroes can pluck the keys from his belt. The hail
of enemy bullets will plink-plink-plink over our heroes' heads. And
the getaway car in the driveway will have the keys waiting in the
ignition. Sure, the hawks' vision could come to pass. But there are
at least half a dozen equally plausible alternative scenarios that
would be disastrous for us.
To begin with, this whole endeavor is supposed to be about
reducing the long-term threat of terrorism, particularly terrorism
that employs weapons of mass destruction. But, to date, every time a
Western or non-Muslim country has put troops into Arab lands to
stamp out violence and terror, it has awakened entire new terrorist
organizations and a generation of recruits. Placing U.S. troops in
Riyadh after the Gulf War (to protect Saudi Arabia and its oilfields
from Saddam) gave Osama bin Laden a cause around which he built al
Qaeda. Israel took the West Bank in a war of self-defense, but once
there its occupation helped give rise to Hamas. Israel's incursion
into southern Lebanon (justified at the time, but transformed into a
permanent occupation) led to the rise of Hezbollah. Why do we
imagine that our invasion and occupation of Iraq, or whatever
countries come next, will turn out any differently?
The Bush administration also insists that our right to act
preemptively and unilaterally, with or without the international
community's formal approval, rests on the need to protect American
lives. But with the exception of al Qaeda, most terrorist
organizations in the world, and certainly in the Middle East, do not
target Americans. Hamas certainly doesn't. Hezbollah, the most
fearsome of terrorist organizations beside al Qaeda, has killed
American troops in the Middle East, but not for some years, and it
has never targeted American civilians on American soil. Yet like
Hamas, Hezbollah has an extensive fundraising cell operation in the
States (as do many terrorist organizations, including the Irish
Republican Army). If we target them in the Middle East, can't we
reasonably assume they will respond by activating these cells and
taking the war worldwide?
Next, consider the hawks' plans for those Middle East states that
are authoritarian yet "friendly" to the United States--specifically
Egypt and Saudi Arabia. No question these are problem countries.
Their governments buy our weapons and accept our foreign aid yet
allow vicious anti-Semitism to spew from the state run airwaves and
tolerate clerics who preach jihad against the West. But is it really
in our interests to work for their overthrow? Many hawks clearly
think so. I asked Richard Perle last year about the dangers that
might flow from the fall of Egyptian President Hosni Mubarak.
"Mubarak is no great shakes," he quipped. "Surely we can do better
than Mubarak." When I asked Perle's friend and fellow Reagan-era
neocon Ken Adelman to calculate the costs of having the toppling of
Saddam lead to the overthrow of the House of Saud, he shot back:
"All the better if you ask me."
This cavalier call for regime change, however, runs into a rather
obvious problem. When the communist regimes of Eastern and Central
Europe fell after 1989, the people of those nations felt grateful to
the United States because we helped liberate them from their Russian
colonial masters. They went on to create pro-Western democracies.
The same is unlikely to happen, however, if we help "liberate" Saudi
Arabia and Egypt. The tyrannies in these countries are home grown,
and the U.S. government has supported them, rightly or wrongly, for
decades, even as we've ignored (in the eyes of Arabs) the plight of
the Palestinians. Consequently, the citizens of these countries
generally hate the United States, and show strong sympathy for
Islamic radicals. If free elections were held in Saudi Arabia today,
Osama bin Laden would probably win more votes than Crown Prince
Abdullah. Topple the pro-Western autocracies in these countries, in
other words, and you won't get pro-Western democracies but
anti-Western tyrannies.
To this dilemma, the hawks offer two responses. One is that
eventually the citizens of Egypt and Saudi Arabia will grow
disenchanted with their anti-Western Islamic governments, just as
the people of Iran have, and become our friends. To which the
correct response is, well, sure, that's a nice theory, but do we
really want to make the situation for ourselves hugely worse now on
the strength of a theoretical future benefit?
The hawks' other response is that if the effort to push these
countries toward democracy goes south, we can always use our
military might to secure our interests. "We need to be more
assertive," argues Max Boot, a senior fellow at the Council on
Foreign Relations, "and stop letting all these two-bit dictators and
rogue regimes push us around and stop being a patsy for our
so-called allies, especially in Saudi Arabia." Hopefully, in Boot's
view, laying down the law will be enough. But he envisions a
worst-case scenario that would involve the United States "occupying
the Saudi's oil fields and administering them as a trust for the
people of the region."
What Boot is calling for, in other words, is the creation of a de
facto American empire in the Middle East. In fact, there's a subset
of neocons who believe that given our unparalleled power, empire is
our destiny and we might as well embrace it. The problem with this
line of thinking is, of course, that it ignores the lengthy and
troubling history of imperial ambitions, particularly in the Middle
East. The French and the English didn't leave voluntarily; they were
driven out. And they left behind a legacy of ignorance,
exploitation, and corruption that's largely responsible for the
region's current dysfunctional politics.
Another potential snafu for the hawks is Iran, arguably the most
dangerous state in the Middle East. The good news is that the
fundamentalist Shi'a mullahs who have been running the government,
exporting terrorism, and trying to enrich their uranium, are
increasingly unpopular. Most experts believe that the mullahs' days
are numbered, and that true democracy will come to Iran. That day
will arrive sooner, the hawks argue, with a democratic Iraq on
Iran's border. But the opposite could happen. If the mullahs are
smart, they'll cooperate just enough with the Americans not to
provoke an attack, but put themselves forth to their own people as
defenders of Iranian independence and Iran's brother Shi'a in
southern Iraq who are living under the American jackboot. Such a
strategy might keep the fundamentalists in power for years longer
than they otherwise might have been.
Then there is the mother of all problems, Iraq. The hawks' whole
plan rests on the assumption that we can turn it into a
self-governing democracy--that the very presence of that example
will transform politics in the Middle East. But what if we can't
really create a democratic, self-governing Iraq, at least not very
quickly? What if the experience we had after World War II in Germany
and Japan, two ethnically homogeneous nations, doesn't quite work in
an ethnically divided Iraq where one group, the Sunni Arabs, has
spent decades repressing and slaughtering the others? As one former
Army officer with long experience with the Iraq file explains it,
the "physical analogy to Saddam Hussein's regime is a steel beam in
compression." Give it one good hit, and you'll get a violent
explosion. One hundred thousand U.S. troops may be able to keep a
lid on all the pent-up hatred. But we may soon find that it's unwise
to hand off power to the fractious Iraqis. To invoke the ugly but
apt metaphor which Jefferson used to describe the American dilemma
of slavery, we will have the wolf by the ears. You want to let go.
But you dare not.
And what if we do muster the courage to allow elections, but the
Iraqis choose a government we can't live with--as the Japanese did
in their first post-war election, when the United States purged the
man slated to become prime minister? But if we do that in Iraq, how
will it look on Al Jazeera? Ultimately, the longer we stay as
occupiers, the more Iraq becomes not an example for other Arabs to
emulate, but one that helps Islamic fundamentalists make their case
that America is just an old-fashioned imperium bent on conquering
Arab lands. And that will make worse all the problems set forth
above.
None of these problems are inevitable, of course. Luck,
fortitude, deft management, and help from allies could bring about
very different results. But we can probably only rely on the first
three because we are starting this enterprise over the expressed
objections of almost every other country in the world. And that's
yet another reason why overthrowing the Middle East won't be the
same as overthrowing communism. We did the latter, after all, within
a tight formal alliance, NATO. Reagan's most effective military move
against Moscow, for instance, placing Pershing II missiles in
Western Europe, could never have happened, given widespread public
protests, except that NATO itself voted to let the weapons in. In
the Middle East, however, we're largely alone. If things go badly,
what allies we might have left are liable to say to us: You broke
it, you fix it.
Whacking the Hornet's Nest
If the Bush administration has thought through these various
negative scenarios--and we must presume, or at least pray, that it
has--it certainly has not shared them with the American people. More
to the point, the president has not even leveled with the public
that such a clean-sweep approach to the Middle East is, in fact,
their plan. This breaks new ground in the history of pre-war
presidential deception. Franklin Roosevelt said he was trying to
keep the United States out of World War II even as he--in some key
ways--courted a confrontation with the Axis powers that he saw as
both inevitable and necessary. History has judged him well for this.
Far more brazenly, Lyndon Johnson's administration greatly
exaggerated the Gulf of Tonkin incident to gin up support for
full-throttle engagement in Vietnam. The war proved to be Johnson's
undoing. When President Clinton used American troops to quell the
fighting in Bosnia he said publicly that our troops would be there
no longer than a year, even though it was widely understood that
they would be there far longer. But in the case of these deceptions,
the public was at least told what the goals of the wars were and
whom and where we would be fighting.
Today, however, the great majority of the American people have no
concept of what kind of conflict the president is leading them into.
The White House has presented this as a war to depose Saddam Hussein
in order to keep him from acquiring weapons of mass destruction--a
goal that the majority of Americans support. But the White House
really has in mind an enterprise of a scale, cost, and scope that
would be almost impossible to sell to the American public. The White
House knows that. So it hasn't even tried. Instead, it's focused on
getting us into Iraq with the hope of setting off a sequence of
events that will draw us inexorably towards the agenda they have in
mind.
The brazenness of this approach would be hard to believe if it
weren't entirely in line with how the administration has pursued so
many of its other policy goals. Its preferred method has been to use
deceit to create faits accomplis, facts on the ground that then make
the administration's broader agenda almost impossible not to pursue.
During and after the 2000 campaign, the president called for major
education and prescription drug programs plus a huge tax cut, saying
America could easily afford them all because of large budget
surpluses. Critics said it wasn't true, and the growing budget
deficits have proven them right. But the administration now uses the
existence of big budget deficits as a way to put the squeeze on
social programs--part of its plan all along. Strip away the
presidential seal and the fancy titles, and it's just a straight-up
con.
The same strategy seemed to guide the administration's
passive-aggressive attitude towards our allies. It spent the months
after September 11 signaling its distaste for international
agreements and entangling alliances. The president then demanded
last September that the same countries he had snubbed support his
agenda in Iraq. And last month, when most of those countries
refused, hawks spun that refusal as evidence that they were right
all along. Recently, a key neoconservative commentator with close
ties to the administration told me that the question since the end
of the Cold War has been which global force would create the
conditions for global peace and security: the United States, NATO,
or the United Nations. With NATO now wrecked, he told me, the choice
is between the United States and the United Nations. Whether NATO is
actually wrecked remains to be seen. But the strategy is clear: push
the alliance to the breaking point, and when it snaps, cite it as
proof that the alliance was good for nothing anyway. It's the
definition of chutzpah, like the kid who kills his parents and begs
the judge for sympathy because he's an orphan.
Another president may be able to rebuild NATO or get the budget
back in balance. But once America begins the process of remaking the
Middle East in the way the hawks have in mind, it will be extremely
difficult for any president to pull back. Vietnam analogies have
long been overused, and used inappropriately, but this may be one
case where the comparison is apt.
Ending Saddam Hussein's regime and replacing it with something
stable and democratic was always going to be a difficult task, even
with the most able leadership and the broadest coalition. But doing
it as the Bush administration now intends is something like going
outside and giving a few good whacks to a hornets' nest because you
want to get them out in the open and have it out with them once and
for all. Ridding the world of Islamic terrorism by rooting out its
ultimate sources--Muslim fundamentalism and the Arab world's endemic
despotism, corruption, and poverty--might work. But the costs will
be immense. Whether the danger is sufficient and the costs worth
incurring would make for an interesting public debate. The problem
is that once it's just us and the hornets, we really won't have any
choice.