Washington
knows how to start wars and how to
prolong them, but is clueless when it
comes to ending them. Iraq, the
latest addition to the roster of
Americas forgotten wars, stands as
exhibit A. Each bomb that blows up
in Baghdad or some other Iraqi city,
splattering blood all over the streets,
testifies to the manifest absurdity of
judging the surge as the epic
feat of arms celebrated by the Petraeus
lobby.
The
problems are strategic as well as
operational. Old Cold War-era
expectations that projecting U.S. power
will enhance American clout and standing
no longer apply, especially in the
Islamic world. There, American
military activities are instead fostering
instability and inciting anti-Americanism.
For Exhibit B, see the deepening morass
that Washington refers to as AfPak or the
Afghanistan-Pakistan theater of
operations.
Add to
that the mountain of evidence showing
that Pentagon, Inc. is a miserably
managed enterprise: hide-bound, bloated,
slow-moving, and prone to wasting
resources on a prodigious scale --
nowhere more so than in weapons
procurement and the outsourcing of
previously military functions to
contractors. When it
comes to national security, effectiveness
(what works) should rightly take
precedence over efficiency (at
what cost?) as the overriding measure of
merit. Yet beyond a certain level,
inefficiency undermines effectiveness,
with the Pentagon stubbornly and
habitually exceeding that level. By
comparison, Detroits much-maligned
Big Three offer models of well-run
enterprises.
Impregnable
Defenses
All of
this takes place against the backdrop of
mounting problems at home: stubbornly
high unemployment, trillion-dollar
federal deficits, massive and mounting
debt, and domestic needs like education,
infrastructure, and employment crying out
for attention.
Yet the
defense budget -- a misnomer since for
Pentagon, Inc. defense per se figures as
an afterthought -- remains a sacred cow.
Why is that?
The
answer lies first in understanding the
defenses arrayed around that cow to
ensure that it remains untouched and
untouchable. Exemplifying what the
military likes to call a defense in
depth, that protective shield
consists of four distinct but mutually
supporting layers.
Institutional
Self-Interest: Victory in
World War II produced not peace, but an
atmosphere of permanent national security
crisis. As never before in U.S.
history, threats to the nations
existence seemed omnipresent, an attitude
first born in the late 1940s that still
persists today. In Washington, fear
-- partly genuine, partly contrived --
triggered a powerful response.
One
result was the emergence of the national
security state, an array of institutions
that depended on (and therefore strove to
perpetuate) this atmosphere of crisis to
justify their existence, status,
prerogatives, and budgetary claims.
In addition, a permanent arms industry
arose, which soon became a major source
of jobs and corporate profits.
Politicians of both parties were quick to
identify the advantages of aligning with
this military-industrial
complex, as President
Eisenhower described it.
Allied
with (and feeding off of) this vast
apparatus that transformed tax dollars
into appropriations, corporate profits,
campaign contributions, and votes was an
intellectual axis of sorts --
government-supported laboratories,
university research institutes,
publications, think tanks, and lobbying
firms (many staffed by former or would-be
senior officials) -- devoted to
identifying (or conjuring up) ostensible
national security challenges and alarms,
always assumed to be serious and getting
worse, and then devising responses to
them.
The
upshot: within Washington, the voices
carrying weight in any national security
debate all share a
predisposition for sustaining very high
levels of military spending for reasons
having increasingly little to do with the
well-being of the country.
Strategic
Inertia: In
a 1948 State Department document,
diplomat George F. Kennan offered this
observation: We have about 50
percent of the world's wealth, but only 6.3
percent of its population.
The challenge facing American
policymakers, he continued, was to
devise a pattern of relationships that
will permit us to maintain this disparity.
Here we have a description of American
purposes that is far more candid than all
of the rhetoric about promoting freedom
and democracy, seeking world peace, or
exercising global leadership.
The end
of World War II found the United States
in a spectacularly privileged position.
Not for nothing do Americans remember the
immediate postwar era as a Golden Age of
middle-class prosperity.
Policymakers since Kennans time
have sought to preserve that globally
privileged position. The effort has
been a largely futile one.
By 1950
at the latest, those policymakers (with
Kennan by then a notable dissenter) had
concluded that the possession and
deployment of military power held the key
to preserving Americas exalted
status. The presence of U.S. forces
abroad and a demonstrated willingness to
intervene, whether overtly or covertly,
just about anywhere on the planet would
promote stability, ensure U.S. access to
markets and resources, and generally
serve to enhance the countrys
influence in the eyes of friend and foe
alike -- this was the idea, at least.
In
postwar Europe and postwar Japan, this
formula achieved considerable success.
Elsewhere -- notably in Korea, Vietnam,
Latin America, and (especially after 1980)
in the so-called Greater Middle East --
it either produced mixed results or
failed catastrophically. Certainly,
the events of the post-9/11 era provide
little reason to believe that this
presence/power-projection paradigm will
provide an antidote to the threat posed
by violent anti-Western jihadism.
If anything, adherence to it is
exacerbating the problem by creating ever
greater anti-American animus.
One might
think that the manifest shortcomings of
the presence/power-projection approach --
trillions expended in Iraq for what? --
might stimulate present-day Washington to
pose some first-order questions about
basic U.S. national security strategy.
A certain amount of introspection would
seem to be called for. Could, for
example, the effort to sustain what
remains of Americas privileged
status benefit from another approach?
Yet there
are few indications that our political
leaders, the senior-most echelons of the
officer corps, or those who shape opinion
outside of government are capable of
seriously entertaining any such debate.
Whether through ignorance, arrogance, or
a lack of imagination, the pre-existing
strategic paradigm stubbornly persists;
so, too, as if by default do the high
levels of military spending that the
strategy entails.
Cultural
Dissonance: The rise of the
Tea Party movement should disabuse any
American of the thought that the
cleavages produced by the culture
wars have healed. The
cultural upheaval touched off by the 1960s
and centered on Vietnam remains
unfinished business in this country.
Among
other things, the sixties destroyed an
American consensus, forged during World
War II, about the meaning of patriotism.
During the so-called Good War, love of
country implied, even required, deference
to the state, shown most clearly in the
willingness of individuals to accept the
governments authority to mandate
military service. GIs, the
vast majority of them draftees, were the
embodiment of American patriotism,
risking life and limb to defend the
country.
The GI of
World War II had been an American
Everyman. Those soldiers both
represented and reflected the values of
the nation from which they came (a
perception affirmed by the ironic fact
that the military adhered to prevailing
standards of racial segregation).
It was our army because that
army was us.
With
Vietnam, things became more complicated.
The wars supporters argued that the
World War II tradition still applied:
patriotism required deference to the
commands of the state. Opponents of
the war, especially those facing the
prospect of conscription, insisted
otherwise. They revived the
distinction, formulated a generation
earlier by the radical journalist
Randolph Bourne, that distinguished
between the country and the state.
Real patriots, the ones who most truly
loved their country, were those who
opposed state policies they regarded as
misguided, illegal, or immoral.
In many
respects, the soldiers who fought the
Vietnam War found themselves caught
uncomfortably in the center of this
dispute. Was the soldier who died
in Vietnam a martyr, a tragic figure, or
a sap? Who deserved greater
admiration: the soldier who fought
bravely and uncomplainingly or the one
who served and then turned against the
war? Or was the war resister -- the
one who never served at all -- the real
hero?
Wars
end left these matters disconcertingly
unresolved. President Richard
Nixons 1971 decision to kill the
draft in favor of an All-Volunteer Force,
predicated on the notion that the country
might be better served with a military
that was no longer us, only
complicated things further. So, too,
did the trends in American politics where
bona fide war heroes (George H.W.
Bush, Bob Dole, John Kerry, and John
McCain) routinely lost to opponents whose
military credentials were non-existent or
exceedingly slight (Bill Clinton, George
W. Bush, and Barack Obama), yet who
demonstrated once in office a remarkable
propensity for expending American blood (none
belonging to members of their own
families) in places like Somalia, Iraq,
and Afghanistan. It was all more
than a little unseemly.
Patriotism,
once a simple concept, had become both
confusing and contentious. What
obligations, if any, did patriotism
impose? And if the answer was none
-- the option Americans seemed
increasingly to prefer -- then was
patriotism itself still a viable
proposition?
Wanting
to answer that question in the
affirmative -- to distract attention from
the fact that patriotism had become
little more than an excuse for fireworks
displays and taking the occasional day
off from work -- people and politicians
alike found a way to do so by exalting
those Americans actually choosing to
serve in uniform. The thinking went
this way: soldiers offer living proof
that America is a place still worth dying
for, that patriotism (at least in some
quarters) remains alive and well; by
common consent, therefore, soldiers are
the nations best,
committed to something bigger than
self in a land otherwise
increasingly absorbed in pursuing a
material and narcissistic definition of
self-fulfillment.
In effect,
soldiers offer much-needed assurance that
old-fashioned values still survive, even
if confined to a small and
unrepresentative segment of American
society. Rather than Everyman,
todays warrior has ascended to the
status of icon, deemed morally superior
to the nation for which he or she fights,
the repository of virtues that prop up,
however precariously, the nations
increasingly sketchy claim to singularity.
Politically,
therefore, supporting the
troops has become a categorical
imperative across the political spectrum.
In theory, such support might find
expression in a determination to protect
those troops from abuse, and so translate
into wariness about committing soldiers
to unnecessary or unnecessarily costly
wars. In practice, however,
supporting the troops has
found expression in an insistence upon
providing the Pentagon with open-ended
drawing rights on the nations
treasury, thereby creating massive
barriers to any proposal to affect more
than symbolic reductions in military
spending.
Misremembered
History: The
duopoly of American politics no longer
allows for a principled anti-interventionist
position. Both parties are war
parties. They differ mainly in the
rationale they devise to argue for
interventionism. The Republicans
tout liberty; the Democrats emphasize
human rights. The results tend to
be the same: a penchant for activism that
sustains a never-ending demand for high
levels of military outlays.
American
politics once nourished a lively anti-interventionist
tradition. Leading proponents
included luminaries such as George
Washington and John Quincy Adams.
That tradition found its basis not in
principled pacifism, a position that has
never attracted widespread support in
this country, but in pragmatic realism.
What happened to that realist tradition?
Simply put, World War II killed it -- or
at least discredited it. In the
intense and divisive debate that occurred
in 1939-1941, the anti-interventionists
lost, their cause thereafter tarred with
the label isolationism.
The
passage of time has transformed World War
II from a massive tragedy into a morality
tale, one that casts opponents of
intervention as blackguards.
Whether explicitly or implicitly, the
debate over how the United States should
respond to some ostensible threat -- Iraq
in 2003, Iran today -- replays the debate
finally ended by the events of December 7,
1941. To express skepticism about
the necessity and prudence of using
military power is to invite the charge of
being an appeaser or an isolationist.
Few politicians or individuals aspiring
to power will risk the consequences of
being tagged with that label.
In this
sense, American politics remains stuck in
the 1930s -- always discovering a new
Hitler, always privileging Churchillian
rhetoric -- even though the circumstances
in which we live today bear scant
resemblance to that earlier time.
There was only one Hitler and hes
long dead. As for Churchill, his
achievements and legacy are far more
mixed than his battalions of defenders
are willing to acknowledge. And if
any one figure deserves particular credit
for demolishing Hitlers Reich and
winning World War II, its Josef
Stalin, a dictator as vile and murderous
as Hitler himself.
Until
Americans accept these facts, until they
come to a more nuanced view of World War
II that takes fully into account the
political and moral implications of the U.S.
alliance with the Soviet Union and the U.S.
campaign of obliteration bombing directed
against Germany and Japan, the mythic
version of the Good War will
continue to provide glib justifications
for continuing to dodge that perennial
question: How much is enough?
Like
concentric security barriers arrayed
around the Pentagon, these four factors --
institutional self-interest, strategic
inertia, cultural dissonance, and
misremembered history -- insulate the
military budget from serious scrutiny.
For advocates of a militarized approach
to policy, they provide invaluable assets,
to be defended at all costs.
Andrew
J. Bacevich is professor of history and
international relations at Boston
University. His most recent book is
Washington Rules:
Americas Path to Permanent War. To
listen to Timothy MacBain's latest
TomCast audio interview in which Bacevich
discusses the money that pours into the
national security budget, click here or, to
download it to your iPod, here.
Copyright
2011 Andrew Bacevich
COMMENT:
anthony innes ·
hitler was a creation of the
industrialists and the army.
their psycho puppet got away from them
and it took years of war to get the
controls back.
the financiers who play both ends against
the middle got what was wanted and now we
get what that is all about.
What next?
The pentagon fantasy of full spectrum
dominance has been achieved and now the
next human collective insanity will be
run.
The concept of ethical journalism is the
public is bombarded with facts until
fission occurs.
The WWW is enabling a brief moment of
lucidity before another tragic lapse into
psychosis.
humanbeing ·
Isn't the question, how many people
are employed by the US war machine? That
includes all those employed by weapons
manufacturers, mercenaries, war
profiteers like Haliburton, not to
mention the entire Defense Department,
Homeland Security Department, the CIA,
and all the other spy organizations and
defense related "think-tanks".
That has got to be by far the largest
source of employment in the world. Then
add on all the foreigners paid by the US
war machine. The US war machine is simply
way too big to fail. Talk about the
failure of large banks undermining the
world economy, the US war machine is way
larger than the banks, in fact the banks
are part of the war machine - they
finance a lot of it.
War, weapons, destruction, spy games, are
not only the US' largest export, but one
of its very few significant exports.
The only thing that can reduce this
testosterone driven monster of world
destruction, is to transfer most of those
jobs to space programs, clean energy, and
infrastructure development.