Thursday, August 28, 2014

The Wages of Retrocolonialism

If there were ever any doubts that ISIS (the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria) poses a threat to the international community, or that they are on a direct train, fast or slow, to the scrapheap of history, the vicious murder of journalist James Foley should have dispelled them. As clear as the problem may be, however, its causes and possible remedies remain murky in the discussions of pundits and politicians. The scramble to both assign blame and appear decisive in response has, predictably, produced a muddle of implausible diagnoses and cures.

Though there are many dimensions of this discourse one might examine, the discussion of American policy toward Syria is a particularly illuminating point of departure.  Critics of the Obama administration fault the president for failing to arm the moderate Syrian opposition. The president responded to this criticism by noting that: "[The idea of] farmers dentists and folks who have never fought before going up against...ruthless, highly trained jihadists if we just sent a few arms is a fantasy. And I think it's very important for the American people - but maybe more importantly, Washington and the press corps - to understand that."

The empirical case supporting the president's reasoning here is very strong. If the Iraqi military, trained and armed by the United States for a decade, could not defeat ISIS during the battle for Mosul, it is foolish to insist that a small ragtag band of Syrian militia could fare well against ISIS given some fraction of that support. However, this type of logic only yields good results if it is applied rigorously and consistently.

Alongside his credible assessment of the Free Syrian Army's chances against ISIS, President Obama has been adamant in insisting that the key cause for the rise of ISIS was the exclusive and discriminatory policies of Prime Minister Nuri al-Maliki: "The only lasting solution is for Iraqis to come together and form an inclusive government — one that represents the legitimate interests of all Iraqis." Inclusiveness and toleration are no doubt virtues that would serve any government well, but the idea that they could have prevented the rise (or can hasten the defeat) of ISIS is dubious, as demonstrated by the experience of neighboring Syria. No one would call the government of President Bashar al-Assad a model of inclusiveness, but his army was making gains in the field against ISIS even as Mosul fell. If one is going to compare apples to apples, as President Obama did in juxtaposing the Free Syrian Army to the Iraqi military, one must likewise assess the performance of Nuri al-Maliki's government against the other government that has opposed ISIS, that of Bashar al-Assad.

What could explain the disparity between Syrian and Iraqi military performance against ISIS? I would suggest that there is a rather simple answer that policy makers and commentators on all parts of the political spectrum have largely ignored.

By the end of 2013, the Syrian Air Force had 469 combat and reconnaissance planes in operation, mainly consisting of MiG-21 and MiG-23 jets. The Iranian Air Force has more than 600 fighter jets of various types. The emirate of Oman, a country of roughly four million people, has 12 American F-16 and 10 British Hawk 203 fighter jets, and is expecting delivery of another dozen British Eurofighter Typhoons.

At the time that ISIS captured the city of Mosul, the Iraqi air force had only two planes, both Cessna prop planes modified to carry Hellfire missiles. This last fact is key to understanding the current crisis in Mesopotamia and the Levant. It exemplifies the culture of error that has driven U.S. policy since the 9/11 attacks.

Why would the Republic of Iraq, a country of more than thirty-six million people, once home to one of the world's largest military forces, engaged in a decade-long civil war, be possessed of only two propeller-driven Cessna planes to serve as its air defense? What nation would risk being so lightly armed? The answer, of course, is that no sovereign nation would.

Air power is what distinguishes the army of a sovereign state from the paramilitary and insurgent forces that have proliferated since the end of the Cold War. Modern foot soldiers maintain discipline and mission focus in the face of extremely hostile circumstances, in part, because they know they can count on the logistical and tactical support of a sophisticated air wing. In 2014, an army that goes into battle with two armed Cessnas is not a real army, and the government commanding that army is not a real government. Is it any wonder that men who knew they were part of a fake army fighting in the name of a fake government should lose morale and break ranks when faced with a comparably armed force driven to suicidal frenzy by religious fervor?

This circumstance trumps all other variables in discussing the career of ISIS leading up to and beyond the capture of Mosul. Arguments over the training of the Iraqi military or the retention of U.S. combat forces in Iraq are rendered pointless by the raw reality of Iraq's neutered air defense. If the U.S. had kept 50,000 soldiers in Iraq until 2025 and only then left Iraq armed with two Cessna planes, by 2028 the country would have descended into a civil war just as destructive as we see today.

The fact that Iraq lacks a credible air defense has nothing to do with the wishes of anyone in Baghdad, it was mandated in Washington. Washington has refused to allow Iraq to arm itself because that would put Iraqi politics totally beyond the control of the United States. Some of this is no doubt an expression of the soft bigotry of low expectations. U.S. leaders do not trust Iraqis to manage their own affairs, thus they deny them the tools to genuinely do so even as they spout rhetoric about Iraqi accountability.

The absurdity of the situation, however, is driven to a large degree by systemic factors intrinsic to American politics. Since the 2003 invasion U.S. elected officials have been politically liable for the performance of the Iraqi government.  This vulnerability has driven American policy decisions, not only in Iraq, but in the larger Middle East, for most of the Bush and all of the Obama presidencies. An American leader contemplating giving fighter jets to Baghdad has to worry about the prospect of their being used against the Kurdish regime in Erbil. Giving planes to the Kurds might result in their being used against the Turks. The downing of a Malaysian airliner by Russian separatists in the Ukraine provided an object lesson in the unpredictable volatility of war by proxy, and American leaders are accountable to forces (the media, the political parties, the voting public, etc.) with which Vladimir Putin need not contend.

All of this is to say that Colin Powell's oft-quoted "Pottery Barn" rule ("You break it, you bought it") did not nearly approximate the policy vexation confronting the U.S. in the wake of the invasion of Iraq. By expending so much blood and treasure on the dismantling of Iraqi state and society, the US assumed an exquisitely tangled complex of horizons of virtually infinite liability. The question of how to maneuver amid so many pitfalls of shifting contingency has predictably resulted in a general climate of paternalism and paralysis.

The neoconservative dream was to turn Iraq into a democratic, sovereign ally of the United States. The nightmare that ensued in the wake of the U.S. invasion has turned Iraq into something entirely different. U.S. policy toward Iraq does not merit the label "colonialism," as U.S. leaders have eschewed the level of responsibility and engagement of a genuine colonial metropole. Neither can it be called "neocolonialism," as it is far more intrusive than any cases previously falling under that rubric. Instead, since the invasion of Iraq U.S. policy has embarked upon a kind of "retrocolonialism," an attempt to exercise all of the control of an old colonial power with none of the effort or sacrifice.

This has predictably led to tragic consequences, of which the rise of ISIS is only the most recent and alarming. Moreover, despite the ample evidence of folly, the U.S. seems incapable of changing course. This may be because the remedy for the ills of retrocolonialism is counter-intuitive. If we are suffering now for aspiring to too much control with too little effort, the answer is not disengagement, but a full reversal of the dysfunctional dynamic: less control, MORE effort.

What would this entail? "Less control" is fairly self-explanatory. The U.S. must begin to trust the people of Iraq, Syria, and the Arab world more generally to run their own affairs and conduct their own politics. But this does not mean that the U.S. should abdicate all engagement or influence in Middle Eastern affairs. If there are groups whose interests align with our own, we should assist them even if the results of that assistance are unpredictable and beyond our ultimate control.

Syria provides a case in point. President Obama is correct that providing small arms to the Free Syrian Army would have produced dubious results against ISIS. But that is because, in its dealings with the FSA, the U.S. has remained focused on getting it to do what is in America's interest rather than on assisting it (and the larger Syrian resistance of which it is a part) to achieve its goals. The FSA might be a much larger and more powerful force today (and ISIS much weaker) if, from the outset, America had committed robustly and decisively to the resolution of the Syrian civil war. If the U.S. had declared a no-fly zone over Syria in 2011 or 2012, the FSA might have enjoyed the same success against the Syrian military (deprived of an air wing as the Iraqi military is today) as ISIS did more recently in the assault on Mosul.

We did not provide that kind of robust assistance to the Syrian resistance in 2011 because we could not control the ultimate outcome of the Syrian civil war, and feared that the fall of the Assad regime might empower militant Islamists. Yet despite all that caution, ISIS is more powerful in 2014 than any Islamist group in 2011 or indeed ever in history. We must begin to understand that, in the wake of the Arab Spring, groups like ISIS are as empowered by American inaction and disengagement as anything the U.S. might do.

ISIS's ideology and strategic culture (for example, its ability to motivate members to engage in suicide attacks) makes it uniquely effective in an assymetrical struggle like the Syrian civil war. The longer that war dragged on and the more desperate the position of the resistance became, the greater the ranks of ISIS grew. For all its new strength, however, ISIS has not been able to defeat the well-armed Assad regime. It has thus shifted focus to the "soft targets" of Baghdad and Erbil. Even here, its success has been provisional. Though the Iraqi military forfeited the majority Sunni city of Mosul, when Baghdad was threatened, volunteer Shi'ite militias were able to check ISIS's advance. All of this indicates that though the extraordinary circumstances of the U.S. invasion of Iraq and the Arab Spring have given ISIS remarkable momentum, there are powerful forces within Iraqi and Syrian society that constrain and counteract ISIS's advance. If the U.S. hopes to defeat ISIS in the long term, it must trust those forces and lend them robust aid, even in the absence of short-term control over outcomes.

"Trust" is the crucial word here. If we are to genuinely trust the Iraqi government, we must allow it to become fully sovereign and develop all of the military capabilities of a nation-state. If we are to trust the Free Syrian Army we must not only provide them with small arms, but assist them with air power in all of their operations, not only against ISIS but also against the Damascus regime.

Already some pundits are squawking that we should partner with the Assad government in Damascus in the fight against ISIS. This is the same kind of retrocolonial thinking that has led us down the primrose path to the current crisis. The Assad regime is a known quantity, so goes this reasoning, while the victory of the Free Syrian Army would create an unpredictable and uncontrollable situation that might bring into power Islamist groups with which the FSA is still allied. This paternalism can lead nowhere good. Conspiring to impose upon the Syrian people a regime they have fought and died to remove will rebound back upon the United States in ways that are impossible to foresee, but the severity of which are pictured in the disgraceful murder of James Foley.  Less control, more effort, more trust.  If the U.S. ever hopes to set its policy orientation toward the Arab world on a functional footing, it must begin to trust the Arab people themselves, and understand the role they play in determining their own destiny. 

Saturday, August 02, 2014

An Open Letter to My Fellow Jews



Dear Friends,

        Like you I am grief stricken by recent tragic events in Israel and Gaza.  Our community is as distressed as I have seen it in my adult memory, and rightfully so. There is a sense that we have entered a moment of significant crisis.  Though strife in and around Israel is something we have come to accept as virtually inevitable, the current troubles seem to constitute a turning point, and not for the better.
        At this time of turmoil I have one plea to make to our community at large. We must support Israel. We must work toward the establishment of a Palestinian state.
        Note that I say “one plea,” for that is precisely what I mean. As a Jew and a Zionist, I firmly believe that the most important, perhaps the only way that we can support Israel in the long term is to work toward the establishment of a Palestinian state. Israel is losing in the struggle to preserve the Zionist mission, and the only way to set the deteriorating situation on a new course is the fulfillment of a two-state solution.
        Why do I say that Israel is losing? In the short term Israel is not in existential danger. The Israeli state and military are very powerful and very secure. But every conflict has two dimensions: the tactical and the political. For the moment the Israelis enjoy substantial tactical superiority, both with respect to the Palestinians and in terms of the region as a whole.
        But in the political realm a crossroads has been reached. World opinion is turning against Israel, and this downhill slide will continue indefinitely if it is not redressed. The effects of this shift will not be felt immediately, but over years and decades it will begin to sap the political and economic energies of Israeli state and society, undermining Israel’s strategic security. If nothing is done, generations to come will mark the current crisis as the starting point of a long process that led to the disintegration of the Jewish state.
      Why is world opinion turning against Israel? Anti-Semitism accounts for some of the anger and condemnation that is being expressed in the international media, but we would be foolish to imagine that this is the whole of the matter. Nor can ignorance be assumed to account for whatever anti-Israeli feeling does not stem from anti-Semitism. The world is aware that Hamas is an evil and depraved organization. The nihilistically genocidal nature of its charter and ideology has been well publicized, and everyone can see the deliberate and malignant manner in which Hamas uses innocent civilians as human shields.
        Why, then, would current events erode Israel’s position in global politics?  It is because the issue of Palestinian statehood remains unresolved. As much as world opinion generally (with some exceptions) acknowledges the right of Israel to exist and defend itself, it also affirms the right of the Palestinian people to a sovereign state of their own. As the fiftieth anniversary of the occupation of the West Bank draws nigh, the patience of the world to see this problem settled grows thin. With each passing year, the argument that Israel is fighting to defend itself is undermined by the appearance that Israel is fighting to block the establishment of a Palestinian state. The more this situation persists, the less attention the global public will pay to the particulars of Hamas’s doctrine or strategy, and the more they will focus upon images of the destruction produced by Israel’s military, no matter how restrained the Israelis may be in the exercise of force.
        Continued protests about the very real villainy of Hamas will progressively lose effect in the face of this reality. Almost no winning cause in history would have done so if it was required that its proponents all be moral paragons. Without ardent Stalinists, Hitler would not have been beaten; without fervent slave owners, the American Revolution would have gone down to defeat. It does not matter that Hamas’s methods are evil or that their ultimate goal extends far beyond Palestinian nationalism. In the short term they derive political capital from fighting for a cause that is generally acknowledged as justified.
      This may seem unfair, but it is a brute fact that cannot be escaped. Nor are arguments over whether anyone is right to support Palestinian statehood sensible or productive. If Israel annexed the West Bank and Gaza today and made all of its inhabitants citizens, it would no longer be a demographically Jewish state. The only alternatives left to Zionists are thus either ethnic cleansing or a two-state solution. Since the former option is both immoral and impossible, the establishment of a Palestinian state is the only way to end the military occupation soon to enter its sixth decade, and the world knows that.
        One might protest that the establishment of a Palestinian state would give Hamas what it wants. To this one can only answer that if it is so, Hamas should be careful what it wishes for. Of course the creation of a Palestinian nation would not make all of Israel’s problems go away. Strife and violence would continue. The nightly news might look very much the same in the wake of Palestinian sovereignty as it does today. There would be a very real difference, however. If Hamas launched rockets from sovereign Palestinian territory, there could be no pretence that it was anything other than aggression bent on the destruction of Israel. In that situation, all of the facts about Hamas’s perversion and malevolence would regain the currency that they have gradually lost in recent years.
        In that new political climate, much of the anti-Israeli activism in Europe and America would evaporate. Organizations like BDS would find fewer and fewer supporters. Mainstream citizens who have joined anti-Israeli protests in recent years would move on to other issues, leaving only the most diehard anti-Zionists to fight from the margins.
        In the Middle East the effects could likewise be significant. Hamas might find that it not only has fewer supporters abroad, but at home as well. Once sovereignty is achieved, Palestinians’ tolerance for Hamas’s rocket attacks and the destruction they bring in retaliation would quickly run dry. A people given a proprietary stake in their own nation might show little enthusiasm for the fight to establish an imaginary future caliphate.
        For all of these reasons, as a people we should unite in focusing our political energies on the achievement of a two-state solution. If we care about Israel and want to see its future secure, our congregations, our civic groups, our rabbinical leaders, and we ourselves as individuals should take up the cry in ways big and small. Write letters to political leaders in Israel and abroad. Reach out to Palestinian groups that support peace. Donate money to organizations like the Israel Policy Forum that are working toward a two-state solution.
        As Jews we believe that the world is not going to fix itself, we must put our hands to the work. If we want Israel to remain a vital piece of the global tapestry, a new piece must be added. Whether there has ever been a state such as Palestine is an academic question that is ultimately of little consequence. One thing, however, is for certain: without Palestine, eventually there will be no Israel. We can not let that come to pass. We must support Israel. We must work toward the establishment of a Palestinian state.

                                            Shalom,



                                            Andrew Meyer
         

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Farewell Lu Lingzi 吕令子

"How happy it is to have friends come from afar." This line from the opening passage of the Confucian Analects greets one everywhere that tourists congregate in China. Despite its having become a marketing cliche, it still expresses a profound truth. Bridging the distance between people is a basic human act. It is what makes families from isolated individuals, communities from disparate families, nations from disconnected communities, and what makes peace possible in a divided world. That joy is today mixed with sorrow, as we have lost a friend who came from afar. Lu Lingzi, a young graduate student from the city of Shenyang in the northeastern province of Liaoning, China, was killed in Monday's attack in Boston.

 Lu graduated from Shenyang Northeastern High School in 2008. She studied international economics at the Beijing Institute of Technology, and came to Boston University to study statistics. She was 23 when she was killed on Monday. Her friend Zhou Danling suffered injuries that required surgery but is now out of mortal danger.

I will never know Lu Lingzi, but our lives shared coincidental similarities. Like her I went to college in Beijing and graduate school in Boston. My parents worried for me when I went halfway around the world to study. I can only imagine the grief that her parents feel today, having this tragedy befall their daughter so far away.

Though it is small comfort, I hope that Lu's parents and friends know that we share their grief. Lu Lingzi was a member of our community. There are many countries where there are no "friends from afar," only strangers. America, despite notable failures, strives to be a place that remains open to distant friends and ready to receive their gifts. The attack upon Lu Lingzi was an attack upon the heart and spirit of America as painful and destructive as that upon Martin Richard, Krystie Campbell, and the other victims of Monday's blast.

Farewell, Lu Lingzi. I am sorry we did not protect you. I am sorry we can not return you safe and well to your family as the people of Beijing returned me home to mine. Thank you for making the journey to our shores. Thank you for coming the long distance and sharing your light with us. We will remember you, and honor your memory by working to make our nation and the world a better place.

Sunday, March 17, 2013

Politics over Tactics

As President Obama plans a trip to the Mideast this week, it is an opportune moment to reflect on what foreign policy lessons the U.S. has learned in the years since 9/11. The outcomes of military and diplomatic efforts in Iraq, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Libya and elsewhere have demonstrated a single salient principle. During a new age of asymmetrical conflict, political factors far outweigh tactical concerns in the pursuit of foreign policy goals. If only the U.S. government could absorb and act upon this lesson our policy would be put on a newly rational footing. Unfortunately, in most arenas our leaders continue to confuse priorities in the discharging of affairs.

Every conflict has both tactical and political dimensions, and success is rarely achievable by exclusive attention to one or the other. If during World War II Allied leaders had not managed to forge and maintain a functional partnership, and if they had failed to sustain support for the war effort at home, advantages in ships, tanks and planes would not have sufficed to secure victory. By the same token, if operations like the Normandy invasion or the Manhattan Project had failed, strong alliances and robust domestic support for the war effort would have yielded few good results.

Each conflict is unique, however, and the relative importance of the political and tactical spheres is not constant for all cases. Thus despite dropping more explosives during the Vietnam conflict than were used by all sides during World War II, and inflicting vastly greater casualties on the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong than were sustained by U.S. forces, the United States failed to achieve its objective of preserving a partitioned Vietnam. In general, the more symmetrical a conflict (that is, the more evenly matched both sides are in armaments and numbers), the more important its tactical dimension. By contrast, the more asymmetrical a contest, the more urgent its political factors.

Their failure to understand this basic truth was the great error of the neoconservatives who took over the policy apparatus of the U.S. in the wake of 9/11.  For many years prior to the invasion of Afghanistan and Iraq, think tanks such as the Project for the New American Century had been publishing papers asserting that, with the end of the Cold War and the emergence of the U.S. as a solitary superpower, America could and should adopt a more aggressive military posture. Absent the Soviet deterrent, the U.S. was free to remake the map through the free and preemptive application of military force. The lessons of Vietnam no longer applied.

This was a complete misreading of both history and current conditions. During the Cold War the U.S. had been forced to fight exclusively asymmetrical conflicts because the prospect of "mutually assured destruction" made a direct conflict between the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. unthinkable. But the end of the Cold War likewise made a truly "symmetrical" contest between matched opponents impossible. With the dissolution of the Soviet Union, the U.S. was left with nothing but asymmetrical conflicts like Vietnam left to fight, a fact which the neocons never paused to consider as they laid plans for a "new American century."

The invasion of Iraq demonstrated just how relevant the lessons of Vietnam remained, and how much more urgent the political dimensions of foreign policy have become in an age of exclusively asymmetrical conflict. The tactical defeat of Saddam Hussein transpired with lightning speed, but the politics of the invasion, in all dimensions, were completely disastrous. Most strikingly, the political impact of the U.S. occupation within Iraq itself undermined the chances that the outcome of the invasion might serve U.S. interest in any sense. Though there were constituencies in Iraqi society that (for example) favored democratic governance and/or opposed Islamic extremism, they were weakened by their association with an unwelcome occupying power. By contrast, Al Qaeda, who had never enjoyed robust support in Iraq, gained a foothold as perceived opponents of American neocolonialism. After tens of thousands killed and wounded and trillions of dollars lost, it is not clear that anything has been achieved through the invasion that might not have been garnered eventually through diplomacy and sanctions.

Though a new regime has taken over in Washington, bringing a new set of habits and preferences, there is little sign that our leaders have developed a sound and systematic doctrine for the ongoing conduct of foreign policy. Despite successes in Pakistan and Libya, the Obama White House has remained defensive and reactive in the face of criticism at home and developments abroad. The wave of unrest and rapid change sweeping the Middle East in the wake of the Arab Spring obviously presents daunting and complex challenges for any government trying to formulate doctrine, but as the situation deteriorates in places like Syria the U.S. appears increasingly passive and ineffectual at a crucial moment in international affairs.

What is the cause for the current state of U.S. passivity? Just as during the Bush days, it stems from the failure to correctly prioritize the political and tactical dimensions of foreign policy. In assessing the potential impact of any policy, U.S. leaders (both the White House and its critics) continue to give undue weight to the tactical effects of any action, and to underestimate the importance of the political realm. Libya, for example, which should serve as a model for recent foreign policy success, has been discredited because of last year's tragic events in Benghazi. While it is true that the ouster of Qaddafi has given Islamists enhanced tactical strength and freedom of movement in Libyan society, the political impact of Qadaffi's fall continues to work to the detriment of groups like Al Qaeda. Though the death of a U.S. ambassador at the hand of extremists would never have been possible under the old regime, the throngs of Libyans who came out in the streets to mourn Chris Stevens, and the good will toward the U.S. they embody, would likewise not exist if the world had stood by and watched as Qaddafi destroyed the movement for a free Libya in the cradle.

The same myopic fixation upon tactical over political outcomes informs the world view of those who oppose U.S. support for the anti-Assad rebels in Syria. Because elements of the Syrian rebel army are Islamist, so goes this argument, we must refrain from supplying the rebels with arms for fear weapons will "fall into the wrong hands." But this assessment vastly overestimates the importance of weaponry in the long-term conflict between the U.S. and Islamist extremism. Weapons are plentiful and cheap, groups like Al Qaeda bent on causing havoc and terror will never find weapons in short supply. The 9/11 attacks themselves did not require more than a few airplane tickets and box cutters. By contrast, the political damage being done by U.S. passivity in Syria favors the cause of Al Qaeda far more than the acquisition of a few Soviet surplus assault rifles and grenade launchers ever could.  The Assad regime is about to be overthrown by a popular uprising, and unless the U.S. commits to clearly and materially supporting that process it will, just as in post-Saddam Iraq, once again find itself on the wrong side of the popular will in post-Assad Syria. Should that occur, the forces within Syrian society that might advance the causes of democracy, secular rule, and regional peace will be substantially weakened.

 We are in a new world with a new strategic dynamic, and it requires a new set of strategic priorities. If we continue to view every challenge through the simplistic lens of tactical concerns, we will continue to make mistakes of action as we did in Iraq and of inaction as we are currently making in Syria. Looking forward, an emphasis on the political over the tactical effects of policy should form the basic calibration of our compass for the conduct of foreign affairs.

Saturday, February 02, 2013

Anti-Zionism is Anti-Semitism

Next week Brooklyn College will be hosting an event planned by the B.D.S. movement, an activist group dedicated to encouraging "boycott, divestment, and sanctions" against Israel. The gathering is being co-sponsored by the Department of Political Science, and will feature Judith Butler and Omar Barghouti as principal speakers. Critics of the event have questioned the propriety of the involvement of the Department of Political Science, charging that their co-sponsorship amounts to the endorsement of political views that will be offensive or intimidating to some students.

As a Brooklyn College faculty member I feel obliged to defend my colleagues' decision. The issue of Israeli-Palestinian relations is complex and highly emotionally charged, but that should not place it beyond the realm of discussion. Moreover, the basic logic of the criticism hurled against the Department does not hold up to scrutiny. One could use the same arguments to protest against an invitation extended to, for example, Mitt Romney (what about the Democrats in the student body? won't they be offended/intimidated?), but the upshot of such arguments (if they prevailed) would be to deprive students of a unique learning opportunity.

That being said, I am moved, in the spirit of open discussion and debate that animates the planned meeting and in the interest of facilitating dialogue, to contribute to the conversation initiated by the event and its co-sponsors. In particular, I am intrigued by arguments put forward by Judith Butler that I anticipate will form part of the substance of her talk next week. In a 2003 article for the London Review of Books entitled "No, It's not Anti-Semitic," Butler (in response to remarks made by Lawrence Summers, then president of Harvard University) critically engaged the question of whether anti-Israeli views, "in effect if not their intent," could be deemed "anti-Semitic," arguing that they could not.

Butler's analysis is thoughtful and sophisticated, and I will not engage all of her points here. In general I agree with her that to equate "Jews" and "Israel" is false, and that criticisms of Israeli policy (even very vehement critiques accusing Israel of "apartheid") can not be deemed, on their face, anti-Semitic. But I would like to offer her and her supporters a counter-proposition, one that informs my world view and, I suspect, that of many other Jews (whether they are self-consciously aware of its principles or not). As my title suggest, my basic assertion is that anti-Zionism is, in fact, anti-Semitism.  Unless she can empathetically and robustly engage this idea, she will have little hope of effective communication with the larger Brooklyn College community.

To begin this discussion, definitions are in order. As Butler notes in her article, Zionism over time has been a variable and internally contradictory movement. How then do we define Zionism and "anti-Zionism?" In simple terms, all historical Zionisms share the belief in the right of a Jewish state to exist. In the post-1948 era, this would translate into a belief in the right of Israel to persist as a Jewish state. Conversely, anti-Zionism would entail a denial of Israel's right to persist as a Jewish state. These definitions leave many open questions, as what makes Israel a "Jewish" state is the focus of constant and heated debate even within Israel itself. Lack of resolution on that score, however, does not deter us from understanding that an outright denial of the right for a Jewish state to exist has profoundly anti-Semitic consequences.

The arguments equating anti-Zionism with anti-Semitism do not hinge on the history of Zionism or of the Jews, but rather on that of anti-Semitism. If anti-Semitism had not evolved in very particular and pernicious ways, there is little chance that Zionism would have developed as it did, and its fruition in the existence of the Israeli state would have been virtually impossible. Traditional religious anti-Semitism was amenable to an array of escapes and remedies. On the one hand, conversion and assimilation could enable Jews to evade persecution, on the other hand, the advocacy of secularism and religious tolerance could create a social climate in which Jewish life was no longer threatened.

The advent of modern, secular anti-Semitism, however, created new and vastly more lethal conditions. "Jewishness" became an inescapable "racial" identity, one that could not be ameliorated by any degree of assimilation or religious apostasy. Atheists and Christian converts went to the gas chambers alongside the pious and the orthodox. In this new climate being Jewish is no longer entirely a matter of choice, subjecting millions to arbitrary attack and persecution whether they personally identify with the Jewish community or not.

This is the context in which the significance of Zionism and anti-Zionism must be contemplated. The question of who is a Jew and what it means to be a "Jewish" state is separable from that of whether the targets and victims of anti-Semitism can and do benefit from having a sovereign advocate in the community of nations. Wherever one falls on the former question, the answer to the latter question is emphatically "yes." Given the mechanics of international politics, if a Jewish state had existed at the time, it is unlikely that Nazi Germany could have perpetrated the Holocaust.

This principle is more than an abstract counterfactual- it bears out in the experience of the post-1948 world. Even as Israelis have struggled among themselves over the personal and collective meaning of Jewish identity, Israel has served as a defender against anti-Semitism, broadly defined, all over the world. Jews in Yemen, Ethiopia, the Soviet Union, and throughout the globe have benefited from the military and diplomatic efforts of the Israeli state. Since its inception, Israel has been the single greatest impediment to institutionalized anti-Semitism in the international arena. The end of the Jewish state would, over time, remove concrete protections from Jewish communities throughout the world, and would create a more favorable climate for the growth and spread of anti-Semitism than has existed since before World War II. For example, those alarmed by the recent appearance of neo-Fascist groups in places like Greece and Russia might pause to imagine what greater scope those groups would have to grow in the near- and long-term in a world in which Israel did not exist.

This is the larger framework within which I and many other Jews approach any and all questions pertaining to Israel and Palestine, which does not preclude there being deep divisions over policy. I, for example, stand with the Palestinian people in demanding their right to statehood, and decry the injustice of the Israeli occupation, positions that Butler and the B.D.S. movement embrace and that many of my Jewish students and colleagues at Brooklyn College would reject. Where I and these latter individuals agree, however, is in our insistence that Israel must continue to exist, both for its own sake and for the protection of Jews everywhere. Any group seeking to engage a Jewish community largely animated and informed by this basic perspective on behalf of Palestinians would be well advised to clarify its position on how the crisis and occupation should or can be resolved. The only type of arguments that will achieve traction in the discourse I exemplify are ones that at least acknowledge the possibility of a two-state solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Anyone who advocates the necessary dissolution of the Israeli state, or is perceived to be evasively concealing such an agenda, will meet at Brooklyn College with poor prospects for a meaningful conversation that genuinely engages the larger part of the community.

Monday, December 17, 2012

Federally Mandated Firearm Liability Insurance

In the wake of last Friday's unspeakable tragedy, I like many have been moved to think about the politics surrounding gun ownership and the policy problems at the heart of the issue. The legal and social forces impacting this question are intensely complex, but the need is so urgent that I hope we may see forceful and rapid action to reform our gun law regime in significant terms. In that spirit, I would like to add my voice to others who have proposed a policy solution that might form a departing point of consensus over a fraught issue: the adoption of a federal mandate requiring liability insurance for the purchase and ownership of a firearm.

First, let me address the underlying principle of such a proposal. The logic of requiring gun owners to purchase liability insurance is the same as that which applies to users of automobiles. Right now the rights of gun ownership are private, but the costs of gun accidents, injuries, and violence are socialized. This is a fundamentally unfair situation. The second amendment guarantees that gun ownership is a right, not a universal actuality on the terms most convenient to those desiring weapons. If the second amendment allows that every citizen may be compelled to pay the fair market value of a weapon, it also allows that each gun owner may contribute toward private funds mitigating the social costs of gun use.

This policy would naturally serve as a "gateway" impediment that would deter gun sales, and those who oppose gun law reform might argue that it would keep firearms out of the hands of those who "need" them. This is a complicated point of contention, but it in no way rises to the level of a disqualifying objection. The potential benefits of such a policy are so salient that any ancillary "down side" could be remediated by, for example, the passage of subsidies to make coverage accessible to small business owners and low-income citizens who might otherwise be blocked from gun ownership.

In social policy terms, this measure would be a versatile means to use the forces of the free market to foster gun safety and responsible gun use. Actuarial studies could determine the level of liability coverage that was optimal for all gun owners, and private insurers could be relied upon to sell such coverage to individual gun owners at the fair market cost. Naturally, gun owners who could demonstrate that they had adequate gun safety training, had laid plans for the secure storage of their weapons, and had purchased weapons whose design minimized social hazards (e.g. "smart guns" with private locks or designed to be operable only by their owner) would attain the most favorable rates of coverage from private insurers. Such an insurance regime would not only influence gun owners, but gun manufacturers and retailers as well, incentivizing them to adopt best standards and practices that promote gun safety and security in the community at large. Thus with a minimum of government intervention behaviors could be widely fostered that would be socially constructive and might deter tragedies like the most recent sorrow in Newtown.


Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Hanukkah and Christmas




The proximity of Hanukkah to Christmas gives it a special place in the yearly calendar for American Jews, one fraught with opposing pressures and ambivalent sentiments. On the one hand Hanukkah is a joyous festival and an opportunity to participate in the spirit of the all-consuming "holiday season." On the other hand, that very impulse raises guilty feelings of assimilation, imitative consumerism, and diluted Jewish identity. While Christians (or some of them) fret about the secularization of Christmas, Jews are prone to fret about the "Christmasization" of Hanukkah. This anxiety is exemplified by Rabbi Wayne Dosick, who in his text Living Judaism insists, "Chanukah and Christmas have nothing in common, other than they are celebrated at the same time of year. Chanukah does not need to be compared to any other religious observance or celebrated in any out-of-proportion way (p. 154)." Similarly, in a recent piece in the New York Times, Hilary Krieger laments that because Hanukkah has "morphed into 'Christmas for Jews,'" the holiday has been sanitized of all its associations with conflict and "Jewish survival."

Any genuinely historical perspective on comparative religion, however, must acknowledge that the Hanukkah and Christmas festivals are intimately linked- instances of "spiritual mirroring" across a sectarian boundary that has often been more porous than many adherents on either side would allow. If today Hanukkah has become "Christmas for Jews," in earlier times Christmas was undoubtedly "Hanukkah for Christians." This may seem absurd- what can the commemoration of a child's birth have to do with a story of bloodshed and war? Yet this perceived asymmetry is an anachronism born of our modern sensibilities.

To Judeans of the classical era the Hanukkah and Christmas stories were structurally parallel. The story of the Maccabees ends with the revival of Jewish kingship- the reemergence of an independent Jewish throne for the first time since the Babylonian exile. It was this miracle that the Hanukkah festival commemorated centuries before anyone recorded the story of the lamp and the oil familiar to us today. The story of Christmas, similarly, ends with the appearance of a new King of Israel. The visit of the Magi to the manger with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh is a scene of coronation. The placing of the Christmas holiday in close proximity to Hanukkah reinforced the dynastic themes of Christ's messianic status. Jesus was the natural extension of the Maccabees, the man who would fulfill Jewish hopes in a more absolute and permanent manner.

Here, one might argue, the similarity ends. If Christ was a King, he was one in a very different mold than Judah Maccabee. He raised no army, drove out no conquerors, and ended condemned on a cross. Yet at this juncture we may perceive that the "Christmasization" of Hanukkah began long before anyone sat a child on Santa's lap. For if Christmas radically de-emphasizes the political and military aspects of Christ's "kingship," over time Hanukkah similarly turned away from triumphalism toward more exclusively spiritual themes. The Talmud makes no mention of Hanukkah except in connection to the miracle of the oil, transmuting the holiday from a celebration of human victory into a commemoration of a divine wonder. Hanukkah became, over time, the "Festival of Lights," just as Jesus, as messiah, was epitomized as "The Light of the World." Both Christmas and Hanukkah evolved to commonly turn the worshiper away from kingship understood in terms of blood and iron and toward a contemplation of light, that immaterial substance most evocative of the Transcendent.

It might be tempting to conclude that both Hanukkah and Christmas convey a deliberate and inspirational message of peace, but a more pragmatic reading of the holidays' parallel histories suggests itself. Jews were compelled, in diaspora, to relinquish the dynastic hopes embodied in the Hanukkah festival. If the continuity of Judaism had required the revival of Jewish political institutions the community would have perished, thus survival necessitated finding a more spiritual foundation upon which to build an enduring Jewish identity. Similarly, in their early days Christians were faced with a Roman authority they could not hope to contest militarily. The practicability of Jesus' salvational message thus hinged on finding some way to distinguish Christ as "king" from the Caesars with whom he could not materially contend. Christmas and Hanukkah evolved toward one-another because both Jews and Christians needed to distinguish between the power inherent in Light and the power inherent in Iron.

This historical reading, though less romantic, may be edifying for us today in its own way.  The story of Hanukkah's and Christmas's parallel evolution conveys a lesson about religious life that certainly applies to our own time. When as human beings we seek spiritual fulfillment in concrete, material achievements- the building (or destruction) of a particular edifice, the enforcement of particular rules, the ascendancy of a particular lineage- the effect is generally ephemeral and oftentimes tragic. When, however, we locate spiritual realization in more abstract and universal realms- light, harmony, peace- the effects are generally more enduring and more consistently positive. In a world embroiled by bloody disputes over sacred boundaries and sectarian divisions, we might pause to draw a lesson from our collective past.

[This post was inspired by discussions in a class on Judaism at Congregation B'nai Israel (Rumson, New Jersey), led by Rabbi Jeff Sultar. The opinions and errors, however, are exclusively my own]
 


Wednesday, October 10, 2012

The Face of the Taliban

The lead article in today's New York Times, about the shooting of 14-year-old Malala Yousafzai by the Taliban in northern Pakistan, is instructive for anyone concerned about U.S. policy in that region of the world. At the age of eleven Malala had been outspoken in her support of women's education. Yesterday she and three of her classmates were shot and wounded by Taliban militants as they rode a bus to school.

Americans are understandably weary of the ten-year conflict in Afghanistan. Many have been critical of the drone program that has destroyed homes and taken innocent lives in Pakistan. But if there has ever been any doubt that the threat to U.S. security in the Afghan-Pakistani theater is real, the shooting of Ms. Yousafzai should dispel them.

One often hears the complaint that Al Qaeda no longer maintains a viable presence in Afghanistan. The Al Qaeda fighters remaining in the region are stuck in Pakistan, confined to cave dwellings where they are under constant pressure from drones or the Pakistani military. Our opponent in Afghanistan is the Taliban, a group with interests and concerns different than Al Qaeda. The Taliban, so goes this argument, does not present the same threat to U.S. security, thus it does not warrant the extreme effort being waged against it in Afghanistan.

Ms. Yousafszai's fate should expose the flaw in this logic. The Taliban gave shelter and aid to Al Qaeda. It hosted Al Qaeda as it planned the 9/11 attacks and refused to break that alliance when presented with evidence of Al Qaeda's act of war against the U.S. Before we can risk the Taliban coming back to power over all or part of Afghanistan, we must be sure that the Taliban will never make common cause with Al Qaeda again. As the shooting of Malala Yousafzai shows, we can never be sure of such an outcome.

My concern is not simply that what the Taliban did was wrong, though it certainly was. Even more troubling, however, is that this attack shows the Taliban to exist in a completely alternate universe of value from that occupied by the U.S. and its allies (and, incidentally, from most Pakistanis and Afghans). What currency can be offered  to, what deal can be struck with an opponent that perceives the urgent necessity of shooting a 14-year-old girl in the head and neck? A group that will go out of its way to commit this act is not a group that can be counted on to "leave well enough alone" where the U.S. is concerned. They do not calculate their interests in a way that would allow us to predict that, knowing the consequences of allying with Al Qaeda a second time, they would choose a different course. Moreover, we know for a certainty that our economy will continue to produce Carly Rae Jepsen songs and Julia Roberts movies and export them throughout the world via ever-faster digital technology. Who can believe that the would-be murderers of Malala Yousafzai would ever be content to co-exist peacefully with such a country, even if it withdrew its support from Israel and forswore any interference in the affairs of the Middle East?


For any U.S. government to abdicate the struggle against the Taliban and its Al Qaeda allies would be a gross dereliction of duty.  The surge ordered by President Obama has not achieved its objective of breaking the momentum of the Taliban, but that does not argue for the wisdom of complete withdrawal. The President's plan calls for Afghan forces to "take the lead" in the fight against the Taliban in 2014, but we can expect American troops to remain in Afghanistan far beyond that threshold. Like the Axis powers of World War II, Afghanistan was the origin-point of an attack on the U.S. and its citizens, and like Germany and Japan, Afghanistan can expect to play host to U.S. soldiers for many years to come. It is tragically unfortunate that that occupation will be marked by continued violence and suffering, but as long as the Taliban enjoys robust traction in Afghan and Pakistani society, the threat they pose to U.S. security will demand an armed response.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

The Arab Spring and the Loss of Innocence

The wave of anti-American protests set off by the film The Innocence of Muslims has occasioned an explosion of politicking, soul-searching, and speculation across the media spectrum here in the U.S. and among our allies abroad. Amidst alarm intensified by the genuinely horrific murder of America's ambassador to Libya and three of his colleagues, the polemics and rhetoric generated by these events have been white hot and wildly divergent, suggesting a discourse made incoherent by hysteria. Dire predictions of an ensuing clash of civilizations abound, pundits decry a U.S. foreign policy "in shambles." In their rush to pronounce definitively upon a fluid and sensational situation as it unfolds, few observers seem willing to pause long enough to consider what the long-term historical implications of this moment might be.

To anyone paying attention to this crisis, it should be clear that it is not a spontaneous paroxysm of conflict between the Muslim world and "the West." Innocence of Muslims (or at least the 14-minute "trailer" for this supposed movie that has been available on the internet) is a transparently childish provocation. It is an insult so vapid and generic that any number like it could be unearthed from the fringes of American media culture at any time, and it persisted in total obscurity for months before interested parties in the Arab world waged a campaign to incite outrage corresponding neatly with the anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. Though the resulting protests have generated real violence and vivid imagery, they have engaged a narrow band of the citizenry of the Muslim world. In Cairo, a city of 6.7 million people, the protests at the U.S. embassy have drawn about 2,000 individuals. That is a potentially dangerous mob, but it hardly reflects the consensual state of public sentiment.

If one realizes that this is not a "spontaneous" cultural reflex, but the very deliberate mobilization of social groups in promotion of particular political interests, many of the more feverish assessments of the foreign policy implications of these events are shown false. The idea that these protests are a response to "American weakness" is absurd. If this crisis were a visceral response to perceived American weakness, it would not have required such cynical and contrived fabrication. Likewise, the notion that these events stand as an indictment of the Arab Spring or of the wisdom of America's support for democracy movements does not stand the test of logic. The fact that regimes like the Mubarak government could forestall this type of unrest through brutal oppression did not make the world a safer place or further U.S. interests, and as events like the Danish cartoon crisis demonstrated, repressive secular regimes were not above stoking Islamist aggression when it suited their interests.

If we can get beyond the pulling of hair and rending of clothes, what can or should be done? We cannot imagine that these attacks are innocuous or harmless. The death of Ambassador Stevens in Libya is both a tragic loss and a grievous insult to the United States. The destruction of the American Cooperative School in Tunisia is a senselessly nihilistic blow to the fabric of international civil society. The response to such crimes must be resolute and vigorous. But we should remain aware throughout that these attacks are more focused on the internal power dynamics of the nations in which they occur than on the international geostrategic order of which the U.S. is a part. Those who destroyed the American Cooperative School did not do so to weaken America, but to make life more difficult for Western diplomatic personnel (whose children principally constituted the school's pupils), in hopes that the nations they represent will politically and economically disengage from Tunisia. Such an outcome, if it came about, would weaken the forces in Tunisian society that thrive on cosmopolitanism, and strengthen the hand of those who would usher in parochial theocracy. Corresponding motives underlie the "protest" movements in Libya, Egypt, Yemen, and the other Muslim nations that have experienced unrest.

In light of this fact, the most important step the U.S. and its allies must take is to refrain from panic. America must match the Islamists' resolve to disrupt communication and trade with a countervailing resolve to remain engaged in Muslim nations, even in the face of hostility and violence. The perpetrators of these attacks will only truly represent the Muslim world if countries like the U.S. abandon the field of interaction and debate, leaving those in Egypt, Libya, and other Muslim societies who support openness and exchange isolated and vulnerable. We cannot force our values onto other nations, but neither can we completely desert our potential roles as interlocutor, partner, or ally in the diverse communities of the Muslim world.

We should take heart in the apparent weakness of the forces challenging our resolve. Like the Nazis and the communists of the 20th century, today's Islamists are using techniques of mass mobilization and mob violence to expand their influence during a period of weakening state power. Those former groups, however, did not make targeting foreign embassies a central strategic method of their program for political ascendancy. The fact that today's Islamists evince the need to isolate their societies internationally is not a sign of strength, but of fundamental insecurity.

Friday, August 17, 2012

The Myth of the "Anti-Israel" Obama

Speaking with other Jews, one of the themes that often arises when one discusses the current presidential campaign is the notion of President Obama's purported hostility to Israel. Even staunch Democrats who avow their support of Obama will opine that "Romney would be better for Israel." There is a broad expectation that such concerns will make many more Jews vote Republican in this cycle.

Relations between the Obama White House and the Netanyahu government have been visibly strained, but other than this particular friction it is difficult to fathom why so many American Jews are persuaded that President Obama is "anti-Israel" in the abstract. His opposition to the building of new settlements in the Occupied Territories and his open endorsement of "pre-1967" boundaries as a baseline for negotiations with the Palestinian Authority have been seized upon by the President's critics as blatant provocations, but they do not open any daylight between Obama and his Republican opposition.

An example of the hazy logic behind this conventional wisdom can be seen in a recent piece posted on the blog Israel Commentary by Michael Freund: "Where Does Paul Ryan Stand on Israel?" In it, Freund calls upon Jewish voters to vote for the Romney-Ryan ticket, noting that "On Ryan’s Congressional website, Israel features prominently in the section entitled 'Homeland Security.'" But if one goes to the actual text concerning Israel on Ryan's website, there is nothing to distinguish his position on Israel from President Obama's. Indeed, Ryan declares that "Real peace will require Palestinians to recognize that Israel has a right to exist, even as it will require two states for the two peoples," a key pronouncement which might be lifted out of the speech for which President Obama has been so decried among some of Israel's supporters. Freund admits sullenly that "Unfortunately, Ryan also endorses the so-called two-state solution, which is clearly a non-starter," demonstrating how far out of the mainstream those who have most actively promulgated the myth of Obama's "anti-Israel" stance really are.

The stubborn persistence of the image of Obama as "anti-Israel" is sometimes quite puzzling.  Mitt Romney has moved to capitalize on the impression, asking in a recent campaign ad why Obama has never visited Israel. Though it is true that Obama has never visited Israel officially as President of the United States, the same is true of all but four of the eleven U.S. presidents that have served in office since Israel first came into existence: Richard Nixon, Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton and George W. Bush. The two Republican presidents who did visit Israel (a list that noticeably does not include Ronald Reagan) did so only in their second terms.

Moreover, the notion that "Obama has never visited Israel" is simply not true. Senator Barack Obama visited Israel while campaigning for president in 2008. On that trip he made a point of visiting with victims of a rocket attack by Hamas forces in the town of Sderot, declaring that, "I came to Sderot with a commitment to Israel's security. Israel has the right to defend itself, and peace should not undermine its security." That proved to be more than an empty promise. As Colin Kahl notes, "Obama has championed efforts to provide Israel with $275 million over and above its annual FMF to help finance Iron Dome, an anti-rocket system that has already saved Israeli lives by intercepting approximately 90 percent of projectiles launched against protected areas in the country's south in the past year."

Indeed, Foreign Military Financing (FMF) to Israel has hit historic highs under the Obama administration, reaching $3.1 billion in FY 2013. Monetary aid is only one dimension in which the security relationship between Israel and the U.S. has grown historically close under Obama's stewardship. Technological exchanges and cooperation on key defense matters have accelerated under this administration faster than under any previous president, prompting Ehud Barak, Bibi Netanyahu's Defense Minister, to declare: "It's been proven to all the doubters, President Obama is an ally and friend of Israel. The Obama administration gives backing to Israel's security in a wide, all-encompassing and unprecedented manner."

Despite all the evidence, the notion that President Obama is hostile to Israel persists, fueled by sound-bite impressions and skewed rhetoric. The Romney-Ryan campaign believes that they can win Jewish votes on the strength of this myth, and their success in winning the allegiance of backers such as Sheldon Adelson seems to bear out their strategy. The facts, however, tell a different story. Though Obama's advocacy for a two-state solution has occasionally produced friction between his administration and that of Bibi Netanyahu, it does not in any way distinguish him as a matter of policy from his Republican rivals. Those who vote against President Obama on the suggestion that he "has been bad for Israel" are being sorely misled.


Monday, July 30, 2012

Context and More Context

Much ado has been made of Barack Obama's purported declaration that "If you've got a business- you didn't build that." Democratic pleas that the President's remarks are being taken out of context will have little effect in certain quarters of the electorate. It is ridiculous to suggest, as Republicans contend, that Obama was wholesale denying the value of individual initiative and entrepreneurship. He was, however, arguing that our social responsibilities and indebtedness remain robust, even grow, as our individual success contributes to the general prosperity. That message will never be welcome among voters who are persuaded that taxes must never be raised on "job creators," no matter how much context is provided for the President's phraseology.

In fairness, Mitt Romney's words have been subject to similar parsing in the course of this campaign. In August of 2011, during a soapbox talk at the Iowa State Fair, Romney made the unfortunately phrased declaration that "corporations are people, my friend." Debbie Wasserman Schultz, chairman of the Democratic National Committee, called this a "shocking admission." Republicans would correctly point out that Romney's words are only shocking if you misconstrue his meaning and elide his subsequent remarks. The former Governor did not mean that corporations themselves have the moral status of human beings, but that "everything corporations earn ultimately goes to people."

Still, put into the larger context of his campaign message, Romney's statement does draw a clear contrast between his perspective and that of the President. This June in Wisconsin, Romney accused the President of being "out of touch," saying, "He says we need more fireman, more policeman, more teachers. Did he not get the message of Wisconsin? The American people did. It’s time for us to cut back on government and help the American people." If we place this quote next to Romney's declaration of last August; what other implication can we draw except that corporations are people, but firemen, policemen, and teachers are not?

Romney's defenders would no doubt insist that this is a misreading of the candidate's words. At the very least, however, they beg an inquiry into his larger perspective. If Romney is spontaneously capable of articulating that "everything corporations earn ultimately goes to people;" why is he not likewise intuitively capable of acknowledging that everyone rescued, protected or educated by the groups he denigrates are people too?

Though a narrow focus on a candidate's phrasing offers little insight into his or her policy positions, the extemporaneous choice of words can open a window onto a candidate's general values, priorities, and political reflexes. Whether any of the statements quoted above represent genuine "gaffes," they do in some sense offer a picture of two general world views. The President spontaneously stresses our responsibilities to one another over the rewards due individual initiative. Mitt Romney, by contrast, reflexively exalts monetary earnings and and is dismissive of personal labor. This fall the voters must decide which perspective they find more humanistic and humane, which represents a clearer and more positive break with our recent past, and which will best serve the nation in a time of economic distress.


Thursday, July 26, 2012

Syria is not Iraq

In yesterday's New York Times, Thomas Friedman offered a column entitled "Syria is Iraq." In it, he notes that "Syria is Iraq’s twin — a multisectarian, minority-ruled dictatorship that was held together by an iron fist under Baathist ideology." He therefore predicts that a "decent outcome" is unlikely in Syria in the absence of "a well-armed external midwife, whom everyone on the ground both fears and trusts to manage the transition." In other words, Syria is doomed to perpetual anarchy and civil war, because unlike Iraq, Syria will not enjoy the benefits of being invaded by the United States.

Friedman is not arguing for a U.S. invasion of Syria. He concedes that "Iraq was such a bitter experience for America" (as opposed to the Iraqis themselves, for whom the U.S. invasion was presumably a holiday) that invading Syria is unthinkable. It is difficult to fathom the practical point of Friedman's piece. Having conceded that "what is necessary...is impossible," Friedman notes that "in the Middle East, the alternative to bad is not always good. It can be worse." His conclusion would thus seem to be that since the U.S. can not do what is necessary in Syria, it should do nothing at all.

What intrigues me most about Friedman's column is the way it epitomizes much conventional American thinking, not only about the Middle East, but about the world at large. "Decent outcomes" can only come from the application of U.S. power. Where American might is ineffective, only pessimism and fatalism are warranted.

In his fit of paternalism, Friedman has forgotten one colossal difference between Syria and Iraq. The movement to displace the Assad regime, unlike the ouster of Saddam Hussein, is an organic, indigenous impulse of Syrian society. That fact alone may create resources and possibilities that were curtailed in the case of Iraq. If the Hussein regime had fallen to a home-grown uprising rather than succumbing to a sudden power vacuum caused by foreign invasion, perhaps in the process alternative power structures could have been built and new social compacts negotiated, precluding the "need" for a nine-year occupation. Perhaps the outcome in that case might have been a good sight more decent than the strife-torn country Iraq is today.

What is happening right now in Syria is of course very tragic, but it is potentially very hopeful in the long term. If the Syrian rebels manage to oust the Assad regime, it will be a major victory for people's revolution over the forces of modern military technology and entrenched totalitarianism. The very fact that the Syrian people have sustained their armed revolution for seventeen months in the face of murderous violence demonstrates that they have more courage, resourcefulness, and political will than Thomas Friedman gives them credit for.

A good outcome may be long in coming, and perhaps Friedman's darkest predictions will bear out in truth. But if the Syrian people do fight through to a better day, perhaps we can finally put aside delusions of American "midwifery" and come to a new assessment of the limits and potential of U.S. power. In the meantime, though the ultimate fate of Syria depends on the Syrian people themselves, it would be unwise of any nation to stand by and spectate as Syria bleeds. It is arrogant to assume that the Syrian people require a U.S. invasion to build a new future, but it is foolish to assume that any revolutionary movement facing such stacked odds can win through without assistance. If a new day does dawn in Syria, its people will remember who aided them and who stood idly by.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

The Rectification of Names

On July 10th, the New York Times published an editorial by Jiang Qing and Daniel Bell entitled "A Confucian Constitution for China." It argues that a Confucian "Way of the Humane Authority" is more suited to the needs of China than either authoritarianism or democracy. The essay has provoked much response, in both  English and Chinese. I do not intend to parse through the individual points of Jiang's and Bell's proposal, as that has been done ably by several commentators. As Perry Link observed in a brief response published by the Times on July 13, the chief failing of the essay is its claim to develop a genuine "third way" for China. Though Jiang and Bell demonstrate clearly how their system differs from democracy, which they deem "flawed in practice," they do little to distinguish it from China's current system of authoritarian rule or to explain how it would better serve the Chinese people than the current regime.

Indeed, the only thing to recommend the constitution outlined by Jiang and Bell is its purported "Confucianism." For those of us engaged in the academic study of Chinese culture here in the U.S., such a public exercise in Orientalism is disheartening. The tendency to fetishize aspects of China's venerable culture has always been strong, but one hopes that over time it will be ameliorated by education and expanding awareness.

Progress has obviously been slow, however. As one colleague pointed out in an online forum, a close historical analog for the Times' proposal can be found in the case of Frank Johnson Goodnow, an American scholar who urged the first president of the Chinese Republic, Yuan Shikai, to dismantle the republic and declare himself emperor. Goodnow, like Bell and Jiang, argued that democracy was ill-suited to Chinese culture, and that the Chinese people needed the succor of their traditional institutions. Yuan (who from the outset was an erstwhile Republican) happily took Goodnow's advice, and the result was disaster: China was plunged into a decade-long "warlord period" marked by suffering and destruction. This kind of romanticization of Chinese tradition is rare in the academy today, but it obviously continues to inflect the attitudes and judgment of many cultural leaders here in the U.S.

My own sorrow at this incident is heightened by the fact that, in one respect, I agree with Jiang and Bell. Like them I believe that Confucian tradition will be very influential in the future political evolution of China, and I am convinced that the rich legacy of Confucianism has much to teach thinkers, leaders, and artists of all kinds throughout the world. In that respect, however, the essay in question has done more harm than good. However many romantic notions about Chinese tradition they might hold, Times readers generally know a silly idea when they see one. If this is their only exposure to Confucian thinking on current problems, they can not come away with the impression that Confucianism has much of value to contribute to today's discourse. This is an unfortunate misperception, and necessitates the Confucian practice of "the rectification names." All its readers should be aware that not only is Jiang's and Bell's proposal not very practical, it is not particularly Confucian either. Do not judge the entire Confucian tradition on the basis of this one use of its symbols and rhetoric.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Letter to President Obama on Syria

Dear President Obama,

I write out of concern for the ongoing conflict in Syria. Your actions in Libya demonstrated that the United States can, in consort with our allies, effectively project armed force in support of our values and interests. The strategic situation in Syria is clearly very different, and your prudence up to this point has been well warranted by the circumstances. However, the crisis has become so dire that we are compelled to take action, despite the real risks.

The regime of Bashar al-Assad, with its recent indiscriminate massacre of civilians, has fallen back on the use of unrestrained terror as the last remaining bulwark of its sovereign power. Such a government has put itself beyond the reach of any genuinely political process, it is not an entity that can be engaged diplomatically. The only way to revive a political process in Syria and to restore effectiveness to diplomatic means is to aid the development of a robust military alternative to the Assad machine. It is thus imperative that the international community rally to support the Free Syrian Army with funding, training, and weapons, so that they may protect the Syrian populace and force the Assad regime to refrain from committing wholesale slaughter.

Arguments against such a policy are of course valid. We do not know the precise composition of the Free Syrian Army, and some of its members are no doubt hostile to the U.S. and Israel. Support of the Free Syrian Army would anger Russia and antagonize Iran. Such caveats are undermined by the dramatic nature of the current crisis, however. Little can be done to destabilize the situation further than it has already become, and there is nothing that can be done to ameliorate the crisis that will be accepted by either Russia or Iran.

This being an election year, any action you take will no doubt come under unfair criticism from your political opponents. I would urge you, however, to show the same strength of leadership in the case of Syria as you showed in Libya. If the Assad regime is able to reestablish itself through naked terror, the cause of the Arab Spring will be set back dramatically, a consequence that will rebound to the severe detriment of the U.S. and her allies. Audacious action is required to secure the progress that the people of Syria and the Arab world at large have fought so bravely to achieve.

I hope this message finds you well. Thank you for your attention on this matter.

Sincerely,

Andrew Meyer