by Richard Gowan | Feb 20, 2008 | North America, Off topic
Readers of this blog will, almost by definition, be well aware of the thoughts of Mr. Alex Evans on global risks, resilience, the new dynamics of international cooperation and so on and so forth. So they’ll be pretty used to this sort of stuff:
I think we face three challenges currently: The disappearance of the nation-state; the rise of India and China; and, thirdly, the emergence of problems and challenges that cannot be solved by a single power, such as energy and the environment. We do not have the luxury to focus on one problem; we have to deal with all three of them or we won’t succeed with any of them.
Yeah, yeah, give us a break. Except those sentiments don’t come from Alex but from, er, Henry Kissinger in a remarkable new interview with Der Spiegel Online (the best English-language news source on the web that nobody knows about).
Old Mr. Realpolitik hasn’t exactly turned that cuddly. He has wise things to say about how the Bush administration gives European governments an easy excuse for avoiding hard questions on foreign policy – and weird ones on Bush himself:
SPIEGEL: Isn’t German and European opposition to a greater military involvement in Afghanistan and Iraq also a result of deep distrust of American power?
Kissinger: By this time next year, we will see the beginning of a new administration. We will then discover to what extent the Bush administration was the cause or the alibi for European-American disagreements. Right now, many Europeans hide behind the unpopularity of President Bush. And this administration made several mistakes in the beginning.
SPIEGEL: What do you see as the biggest mistakes?
Kissinger: To go into Iraq with insufficient troops, to disband the Iraqi army, the handling of the relations with allies at the beginning even though not every ally distinguished himself by loyalty. But I do believe that George W. Bush has correctly understood the global challenge we are facing, the threat of radical Islam, and that he has fought that battle with great fortitude. He will be appreciated for that later.
SPIEGEL: In 50 years, historians will treat his legacy more kindly?
Kissinger: That will happen much earlier.
But back to the whole “problems and challenges that cannot be solved by a single power” malarkey. I’ve just returned from a week in the UK talking about Managing Global Insecurity, and although there were a lot of interesting conversations involved, I was struck by the deeply-embdedded European assumption that U.S. policy-makers just don’t get the twenty-first century risk agenda or concepts like human security. Well, piffle. As I noted late last year in a short piece for the Stanley Foundation, the whole presidential campaign has been shot through with this sort of thing:
One of the most prominent foreign policy themes of pre-presidential debates has been the need to get UN troops to Darfur. Hillary Clinton has “an aggressive plan to support public schools in developing countries” while Mitt Romney’s anti-jihad strategy centers on a “Special Partnership Force” that will win over foreign communities and leaders through “humanitarian and development assistance and rule of law capacity building.”
Such proposals leave outside observers scratching their heads. Ask the average anti-American to name the pillars of US international policy, and they’ll pick two: military power and unbridled capitalism. But the country’s leaders-in-waiting are promoting social democratic goods like public schooling and development aid. Is the US turning into a gigantic Sweden?
As I said at the time, no, not really. But think back to Super Tuesday. Here’s the key foreign policy paragraph from Obama’s speech that night:
And when I am President, we will put an end to a politics that uses 9/11 as a way to scare up votes, and start seeing it as a challenge that should unite America and the world against the common threats of the twenty-first century: terrorism and nuclear weapons; climate change and poverty; genocide and disease.
And here’s the equivalent from Clinton’s speech the same night:
I see an America respected around the world again, that reaches out to our allies and confronts our shared challenges – from global terrorism to global warming to global epidemics.
And now the McCain-supporting Kissinger is in on the act. I’m off to go and watch the primary results roll in from Wisconsin – but if these guys are even semi-serious, the Europeans may find they’re behind the ideological curve in 2009.
by Charlie Edwards | Feb 19, 2008 | UK
I was planning to write a more comprehensive analysis of RUSI’s journal article yesterday. I didn’t, which was fortunate, because Michael White has an interesting piece in today’s Guardian on why the military feels misunderstood while The Times leads with why Britain’s security must be a narrowly defined priority (which I will post separately about). All three pieces echo a set of assumptions that are out of date and unless interrogated risk sending UK HMG back to the early 1990s.
In order to understand the view of the traditionalists in the ‘defence community’ you have to go back to the beginning of the week and listen to the Radio 4 interview with Gwyn Prins. At one point Prins suggests the UK is at war with a peace time mentality.
I first heard this phrase at Wilton Park a year or so ago, more recently at Defence Academy and last week at the Rag. It is, I think, becoming the mantra of the traditional school within the defence community and is borne out of their view of current operations in Iraq and Afghanistan and how the community sees the world through the lens of global terrorism, instability in the Middle East and other latent threats (Russia being the prime example).
In this context the reason for why the military feels misunderstood is not as simple as Brown spending more on security than defence as White suggests but a reflection of how isolated the defence community have become in the current debate about national security and resilience.
It is Browne who lacks the necessary overarching narrative that would act as a strategic anchor for MoD during this period of uncertainty. Devoid of such a narrative (let alone a strategy) the three services have resorted to damaging campaigns (invariably about procurement) with each other, played out in the harsh light of the media, as illustrated by Michael White:
Hence this Thursday’s ministerial search to cut the Astute nuclear subs and Type 45 destroyer programmes, to sell some Eurofighters (ordered but irrelevant) to the Saudis. The army’s new multi-purpose vehicle is probably safe from a Navy-RAF pincer movement. So are those two carriers: Rosyth dockyard is in the PM’s constituency. But defence contractors may be told to “sort it out yourselves”.
There are a number of different strands to the current debate on national security and defence but 3 are important in the context of the RUSI/ White/Times articles.
The first strand has to do with the role of UK defence in the current security environment. Here the debate rarely moves beyond the dual dichotomies of latent threats and poles of power (i.e. uncertainty of Russia) and the perennial debate over defence spending. The point here is that these debates are usually separate discussions and lack a necessary strategic anchor to bring them together. The result is that debates over defence end up being dominated by equipment rather than UK priorities.
The second emerging strand is about the focus and level of risk. Past debate has focused solely on the threat from terrorism. Since last December however there has been a concerted effort by departments and think tanks in the UK and across the Atlantic to place terrorism in context within a spectrum of risks (see Alex’s post on McConnell for instance). In doing so what is clear is that while most agree terrorism remains a threat to the UK it has become increasingly apparent that it is not the only risk.
This is disconcerting for the defence community which traditionally thinks in terms of one big threat. It is why, for the last couple of years, the question whispered along the corridors of Main Building been what is our role today?
This latter point is why many commentators felt what RUSI served up at the beginning of the week was well past its sell by date. By arguing that the UK is now in a time of remission between the frontal attack of 9/11, and its eventual successor the RUSI article was creating the image of a threat that they claimed would deliver an even greater psychological blow . It didn’t help that they were unable to support this with substantial evidence and to make matters even more confusing the authors conceded later on that we know much less about what threatens us.
The final strand concerns the present debate over counter-terrorism legislation which, at its most simplistic, pitches the security camp against the liberty camp. The new Counter-Terrorism Bill is the current focus of dispute with the former camp claiming (wrongly as it turns out) that only they understand there is a threat from terrorism and if everyone else knew what they did the legislation would be accepted without complaint. The liberty group meanwhile has chosen to use the ‘42 days’ as a stick to prod the apathetic public and NGO community into standing up against such draconian laws citing the last three pieces of CT legislation as examples of how disproportionate the government has been in the face of the terrorist threat.
Given that both Tony Blair and Tony McNulty have admitted that the ‘rules haven’t changed’ when it comes to fighting terrorism and that they got some things wrong it was therefore a mite confusing to read that RUSI thought the UK was a ‘soft touch’.
It is these three strands of debate that explain why the RUSI piece makes sense to the traditionalists in the defence community but to everyone else looks like a reckless piece of polemic based on spurious and an unconvincing analysis.
by Alex Evans | Feb 19, 2008 | Global system, Influence and networks, Middle East and North Africa
Over the past few years, the New Yorker’s George Packer has provided some outstanding reporting from Iraq. (He was also the author of one of the best articles on counter-insurgency we’ve come across, which introduced the State Department’s counter-insurgency boffin David Kilcullen to a bigger stage.) Now, in the current edition of World Affairs, he’s reflecting on the difference between ‘Iraq the place’ and ‘Iraq the abstraction’.
It’s a terrific piece of journalism. And it’s also a reflection on journalism, as in this surreal snapshot of life as an embedded correspondent:
A friend who went in with the Marines during the assault on Falluja in November 2004 paused one night in an abandoned house, with mortars landing outside, and downloaded his e-mail using a satellite modem. Pro-war readers had filled his Inbox with angry complaints that he was concealing the progress of the Marines—the “mainstream media” was too lazy and unpatriotic to get off its ass and go find the war.
And yet, he continues, “For all the television news coverage, Americans have the slimmest sense of what the war actually feels and looks like”:
The image of Iraq is flickering and formless. Each year of the war seems like the last, and the patrols and meetings with Iraqis that soldiers conduct every day don’t make for good television ratings. With the exception of Falluja, there have been no memorable battles. The mundane character of counterinsurgency, the fact that journalists have become targets, and the media’s sheer lack of imagination have combined to make this most covered of modern wars one of the least vivid. Iraq is more remote in our consciousness than Vietnam ever was.
Part of the reason for this, Packer thinks, is that opinion on Iraq was so polarised in American minds even before the fighting began – unlike, say, Vietnam, where the arguments only became “truly poisonous” after a few years of fighting:
Once, after a trip to Iraq, I attended a dinner party in Los Angeles at which most of the other guests were movie types. They wanted to know what it was like “over there.” I began to describe a Shiite doctor I’d gotten to know, who felt torn between gratitude and fear that occupation and chaos were making Iraq less Islamic. A burst of invective interrupted my sketch: none of it mattered—the only thing that mattered was this immoral, criminal war. The guests had no interest in hearing what it was like over there. They already knew.
If that sounds like oblique criticism of the blogosphere, it is: “the Iraq War coincided with a revolution in technology that allowed … reclusive twenty-somethings to register their reactions every seventeen minutes on their blogs (and become influential commentators at the same time”.
The flood of information and commentary resulted in an intense, irritable, balkanized view of the war, but not a clearer view. The same combat that partisans waged over impeachment and the Florida recount found its latest battlefield in Iraq, where the American political debate was largely irrelevant and quickly became an impediment to understanding.
Towards the end of his article, Packer reflects on the movies that have been made about Iraq, and how those movies have portrayed US servicemen:
It’s curious that the Vietnam War, during which some Americans demonized soldiers, generated a number of movies that depict military personnel as thinking, feeling human beings, capable of committing terrible deeds but also possessed of insight, sorrow, and even redemption. Iraq, the war in which everyone loudly supports the troops, has produced a film genre that systematically dehumanizes them. I doubt these filmmakers truly regard American servicemen as moral degenerates. Instead, they treat soldiers as abstractions, empty canvasses on to which the filmmakers can project their own fantasies about the war.
What Packer describes here is in some ways the the flipside, the shadow if you like, of what Clay Shirky was discussing in the clip I posted here yesterday. Clay Shirky’s interest is in how the internet enables groups of people to organise themselves on a grand scale (for good or ill); on how it can produce coherence and order. What George Packer describes is the opposite, how participatory media can produce incoherence: chaos, disorder, cacophony, where the very idea of any objective truth is lost amidst the blizzard of commentary, opinion and white noise. It’s not such a great leap from here to Baudrillard’s famous position on the first Gulf War – that it never happened. And yet, Packer points out, this kind of lazy subjectivism obscures the fact that “…the war was not about nothing. No war ever is.”
I’m curious about what makes the difference between the two polar opposite ‘modes’ that Shirky and Packer describe, and I think it’s another case in point of what happens when “the centre cannot hold“. If participants in a conversation approach it with a genuine desire to forge consensus and uncover the truth, and start from respect for different opinions, then the way is open towards the mode of operations that Shirky describes. If, on the other hand, they start from rigid certainties and dismissive attitudes, then presto! – back to the white noise. The how, in short, plays a big part in determining the what.
by Richard Gowan | Feb 18, 2008 | Influence and networks, North America
I’ve spent some of my President’s Day holiday hammering out a review of Surrender is Not an Option, John Bolton’s scaborous memoir of his tenure at the UN. This will eventually come out in the International Journal, based in Canada, but as (i) the wheels of academic publishing move slowly and (ii) the IJ doesn’t put its reviews online, I thought I’d extract a few paragraphs here. These deal with what strikes me as the most interesting and least discussed element of the (generally badly reviewed) book: Bolton’s obsession with the political uses of jokes…
Mr. Bolton states that his audience is to be found in Middle America. He is concerned that many of his fellow nationals are too easily beguiled by the UN. For them, “the United Nations to this day remains the UN of UNICEF trick-or-treating on Halloween, and of famine-relief efforts in natural disasters, or combating diseases in developing countries.” Bolton now sets out to disillusion “those who still think glowingly of the UN as they had imagined it on Halloweens long ago.” His volume may be a first in international relations literature: a book explicitly intended to sour childhood memories.
To achieve this he hauls us through some highly involved descriptions of diplomatic negotiations enlivened by the breaking of confidences, ad hominem attacks on most other participants, and a lot of jokes. Curiously, the most interesting element of the entire project may be the jokes. We already know quite a lot about the humor of the Bush administration – Bob Woodward has revealed, for example, that the president finds flatulence funny. Mr. Bolton is more interested in verbal repartee, and from time to time he is genuinely witty. Describing a visit by George Clooney to New York to discuss Darfur before the Security Council, he notes that the actor was swarmed by female staffers, “providing humility lessons, and therefore character-building, for the rest of us.” However, he is best at skewering those he dislikes with harsh humor, and he knows it, often returning to the same victims (such as his British and Swedish counterparts at the UN) again and again.
This fascination with comedy is clearly essential to his understanding of how diplomacy works. Mr. Bolton has often been presented as a devotee of power politics, seeing little beyond interest, influence and advantage. This book does not dispel that view. But humor seems to act as a guide to how these forces work. He explains how he gained advantage over a senior German official in a meeting on Iran by noting that he inspired “general merriment”, while his adversary only “joked lamely” and then responded “dourly” to Bolton’s comedic success.
Contrary to his stated intentions, Mr. Bolton has not produced a book that will appeal to those suffering belated qualms about whether their trick-or-treating was misguided – it would be utterly ludicrous to believe that anyone without a sad obsession with multilateral diplomacy is going to care one iota whether Mr. Bolton bested largely unheard-of diplomatic rivals in the humor stakes. But for those of us who are burdened with that unfortunate obsession, this is a treasure-trove.
And if that doesn’t make you want to buy it, what will?
by Alex Evans | Feb 18, 2008 | Cooperation and coherence, Influence and networks
[youtube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xe1TZaElTAs]
Here’s an excellent video with which to while away the next nine minutes and thirteen seconds. The speaker is Clay Shirky, an American writer on the social effects of internet technologies. He says:
What is happening in our generation is that we have a set of tools for aggregating things that people care about, in ways that increase both the scope and the longevity [of their efforts] – in ways that were unpredictable even a decade ago. The coordinating tools we now have – and I’m not talking about anything fancy, I’m talking about mailing lists, usenet, weblogs and wikis – those tools turn love into a renewable building material.
As an example, Shirky cites the case of Linux – which “gets rebuilt every night by people whose principal goal is that it continue to exist the following morning”. Now, he continues, we’re just starting to explore the social application of these tools, and “it [means] that the ability to aggregtate non-financial motivations – to get people together outside of managerial culture and for reasons other than the profit motive – has received a huge comparative advantage.” So what started with small, techie undertakings like Linux is now exploding:
That pattern – of aggregating caring into something stable and long-lasting – is going everywhere. Wikipedia. The anti-anti-immigration protests in Californian schools, that were co-ordinated through MySpace. The monitoring of Nigerian elections by a loose collection of people using SMS and camera phones to watch their own elected officials. The use of Flickr to co-ordinate information and disaster relief after the Indian ocean tsunami, after the London transit bombings, after the Madrid bombings. And the number of places where that pattern will go in the future is much greater than the number of places that pattern has already gone.
We have always loved one another; we’re human, it’s something we’re good at. But up until recently, the radius and half-life of that affection has been quite limited. With love alone, you can get a birthday party together. Add the co-ordinating tools – and you can write an operating system. In the past we would do little things for love, but big things- big things required money. Now, we can do big things for love.
Of course, the catch is that the very same tools also mean that you can do big things for hate or fear, as Shirky himself says elsewhere. Shirky has a new book about to come out in a few weeks’ time, under the title Here Comes Everybody: a book that’s “about what happens when people are given the tools to do things together, without needing traditional organizational structures”. He continues:
Here Comes Everybody is about why new social tools matter for society. It is a non-techie book for the general reader (the letters TCP IP appear nowhere in that order). It is also post-utopian (I assume that the coming changes are both good and bad) and written from the point of view I have adopted from my students, namely that the internet is now boring, and the key question is what we are going to do with it.
Important stuff, this – c.f. the extraordinary protests in Colombia if you haven’t already. As the IHT put it:
A young Colombian engineer used the social networking site last week to organize a massive protest against the Revolutionary Armed Forces, known as FARC. On Feb. 4, millions of Colombians marched simultaneously in 27 cities throughout the country and 104 major cities around the world shouting “No more kidnappings! No more lies! No more deaths! No more FARC!”
The idea of the protest was born a month ago, Oscar Morales, the organizer, said. “I thought it was going to be something unimportant, but little by little it became a big mobilization,” said Morales, 33. “Thanks to Facebook, we have created an exponential effect.” Morales started a Facebook group called “A million voices against the FARC” as a virtual protest with his friends. He got an enormous response from other Facebook users, so Morales decided to call for a national march. Colombians living abroad also learned about the protest through Facebook. Expatriates wanting to participate in the event contacted Morales by e-mail. After receiving hundreds of expressions of interest, Morales decided to turn the national march into an international event.
Update: just discovered a terrific article by the New Yorker’s George Packer on ‘Iraq the place versus Iraq the abstraction’, which shows how participatory communication technologies can also contribute to the opposite of what Shirky’s talking about above, i.e. disorder rather than coherence. See Global Dashboard post on that here.
