Shlomo Ben-Ami
In recent days, Italy's government fell after losing a parliamentary vote on the country's troop deployment in Afghanistan, while Britain and Denmark announced that they would begin withdrawing their troops from Iraq.
Whereas the administration of US President George W. Bush is deploying an additional 21,000 US soldiers in Iraq, and is pushing for more allied troops in Afghanistan, the US' allies are rejecting its Middle East policy. They are increasingly convinced that "victory" will be elusive in any asymmetric conflict between states, however powerful, and religiously driven armed insurgents.
Former US secretary of defense Donald Rumsfeld's dogma of military "transformation" -- the technological upgrading of an army's capacity to enable decisive victory with fewer troops -- failed resoundingly in Iraq.
Nor could Israel, with its overwhelming technological advantage, defeat Hezbollah in Lebanon. More rockets and missiles fell on northern Israel in 33 days than hit Britain during all of World War II.
So the Israelis now must reckon with an entirely new phenomenon: an asymmetric entity, Hezbollah, with nation-state firepower.
So the fierce debate over whether to increase the size of US ground forces in Iraq is beside the point. Neither the Soviet experience in Afghanistan in the 1980s nor NATO's experience today vindicates the claim that troop numbers are what matter most on the modern battlefield.
When geo-strategic military front lines are non-existent, as in Kosovo, Afghanistan, and Iraq, mass no longer equals victory. The great military thinker Carl von Clausewitz's notion of "decisive battles" as the "center of gravity" of war is simply irrelevant to conflicts that have no visible "center of gravity."
Indeed, while wars from the time of Hannibal's defeat of the Romans in 216BC to the Gulf War of 1991 had this center of gravity, with a massive concentration of force capable of bringing an enemy to its knees, such industrial inter-state wars have now become an historical anachronism. Most states nowadays lie within borders that are widely accepted as legitimate and they are under increasing pressure to abide by humanitarian rules of conduct in times of war.
In fact, the obligation of states to abide by these rules regardless of whether their enemies abide by them is what makes asymmetric wars especially insoluble. Moreover, in an era of global media and international war crimes courts, the criteria for states' use of military force have become more complex than ever.
Inter-state combat may still occur where strategic front lines can be found, such as Israel's border with Syria, India's border with Pakistan, and the border dividing the two Koreas. In such cases, war, as the Egyptians showed in 1973, might still serve as an avenue to resolving a conflict. The Syrians might be tempted to launch an offensive against Israel with the objective of breaking the deadlock over the future of the Golan Heights.
However, in the case of Kashmir, the asymmetric conflict currently fought by proxies and terrorist groups might not degenerate into all-out war precisely because India and Pakistan have mutual nuclear deterrence. Indeed, such asymmetric conflicts through proxies have become the new conventional way that states avoid the price of a general war.
This changing nature of the battlefield essentially means that war as a conclusive event in an international conflict has become obsolete. The facile Clausewitzian wisdom that military action ultimately leads to a political solution is no longer convincing.
"Victory" cannot bring peace, simply because there will always be a war after the war.
Thus, for example, the conventional war in Kosovo lasted for two months, only to usher in a six-year asymmetric conflict. Likewise, the US' three-week "shock and awe" campaign in Iraq in 2003 ended in "victory," but opened the gates of hell for occupiers and ordinary Iraqis alike.
And six months after the merciless pounding of southern Lebanon, Hezbollah is as strong as it was before. Nor does the return of the Taliban in Afghanistan six years after their overthrow now seem far-fetched.
It is during the war after the war that the occupier's inferiority is revealed, with constant reinforcements increasing the number of targets for the insurgents far more quickly than the occupier can adapt to the changing battlefield. The insurgents in Iraq, as the British admit, were able in just three years to cope with their enemies' technological superiority in a way that the IRA in Northern Ireland was unable to do in 30 years.
The Iraq war and Israel's wars with Hamas and Hezbollah show the limits of what military power can achieve, as well as vindicate diplomacy and conflict resolution. When it comes to tackling complex political and cultural conflicts, forging international and regional alliances around a legitimate objective is more important than sheer military capacity.
That said, it would be dangerously naive to believe that the exercise of power and the capacity to intimidate are unnecessary. But the objectives of the use of force need to be linked to the recognition that in today's asymmetric conflicts, victory is no longer achieved on the battlefield. Only better-informed foreign policies that can address the genuine anxieties of civilizations in crisis will yield more sustainable results.
Shlomo Ben-Ami, is a former Israeli foreign minister who now serves as the vice-president of the Toledo International Centre for Peace.
Copyright: Project Syndicate
In their New York Times bestseller How Democracies Die, Harvard political scientists Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt said that democracies today “may die at the hands not of generals but of elected leaders. Many government efforts to subvert democracy are ‘legal,’ in the sense that they are approved by the legislature or accepted by the courts. They may even be portrayed as efforts to improve democracy — making the judiciary more efficient, combating corruption, or cleaning up the electoral process.” Moreover, the two authors observe that those who denounce such legal threats to democracy are often “dismissed as exaggerating or
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus in the Legislative Yuan has made an internal decision to freeze NT$1.8 billion (US$54.7 million) of the indigenous submarine project’s NT$2 billion budget. This means that up to 90 percent of the budget cannot be utilized. It would only be accessible if the legislature agrees to lift the freeze sometime in the future. However, for Taiwan to construct its own submarines, it must rely on foreign support for several key pieces of equipment and technology. These foreign supporters would also be forced to endure significant pressure, infiltration and influence from Beijing. In other words,
“I compare the Communist Party to my mother,” sings a student at a boarding school in a Tibetan region of China’s Qinghai province. “If faith has a color,” others at a different school sing, “it would surely be Chinese red.” In a major story for the New York Times this month, Chris Buckley wrote about the forced placement of hundreds of thousands of Tibetan children in boarding schools, where many suffer physical and psychological abuse. Separating these children from their families, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) aims to substitute itself for their parents and for their religion. Buckley’s reporting is
Last week, the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party (TPP), together holding more than half of the legislative seats, cut about NT$94 billion (US$2.85 billion) from the yearly budget. The cuts include 60 percent of the government’s advertising budget, 10 percent of administrative expenses, 3 percent of the military budget, and 60 percent of the international travel, overseas education and training allowances. In addition, the two parties have proposed freezing the budgets of many ministries and departments, including NT$1.8 billion from the Ministry of National Defense’s Indigenous Defense Submarine program — 90 percent of the program’s proposed
RSS