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25 August 2018

The Rise and Fall (and Rise) of Chem­i­cal Weapons

By Zach Dorf­man for Carnegie Coun­cil for Ethics in In­ter­na­tional Af­fairs

In this ar­ti­cle, Zach Dorf­man de­scribes how chem­i­cal weapons have been used in al­most every decade since Ger­man troops first re­leased chlo­rine gas in an at­tack at Ypres, Bel­gium, on 22 April 1915. He also high­lights how af­ter a few decades of rel­a­tive non-use, chem­i­cal weapon at­tacks have again ex­ploded on to the scene and why their oc­cur­rence will likely con­tinue un­abated. This ar­ti­cle was orig­i­nally pub­lished by the Carnegie Coun­cil for Ethics in In­ter­na­tional Af­fairs on 7 Au­gust 2018. Im­age cour­tesy of Ryan An­der­son/Flickr. (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0) Af­ter the ad­vent of nu­clear weapons, the two su­per­pow­ers sud­denly pos­sessed the abil­ity to al­ter the very con­di­tions for life. Hi­roshima and Na­gasaki shook the foun­da­tions of in­ter­na­tional re­la­tions. Even the most prag­matic and in­ci­sive schol­ars of power, like Hans Mor­gen­thau, thought world gov­ern­ment was now an ur­gent moral ne­ces­sity (if not soon ac­tu­ally in the off­ing).

We look at the world so much through this post-nu­clear weapons, post-World War II lens—what Han­nah Arendt iden­ti­fied as the tran­si­tion from the prob­lem of mass death to the prob­lem of evil—that the im­men­sity of what pre­ceded it in that cen­tury, and has post­dated it in our own, has gone by cu­ri­ously un­re­marked. It's true that we are liv­ing in the nu­clear age, with the weapon of mass de­struc­tion par ex­cel­lence. But the Bomb has only been used twice, by the same coun­try, in the last 70 years. Only nine coun­tries pos­sess nu­clear weapons. They are ex­cep­tional in more ways than one.

But the use of an­other WMD, chem­i­cal weapons—the "poor man's atomic bomb," as the say­ing goes—has been dis­turbingly pedes­trian. Chem­i­cal weapons maim civil­ians in­dis­crim­i­nately. Their ef­fects can fairly be de­scribed as tor­ture. They are weapons of ter­ror as much as war, which pro­vides unique ad­van­tages in con­flict as well as in "paci­fy­ing" civil­ian pop­u­la­tions. In­deed, dur­ing the 1960s, So­viet plans for the in­va­sion of Eu­rope in­volved the ex­ten­sive use of nerve gas, as the blan­ket­ing of civil­ian cen­ters with chem­i­cal weapons would leave key in­fra­struc­ture in­tact. Chem­i­cal (and bi­o­log­i­cal) war­fare is the only kind that ex­clu­sively tar­gets liv­ing things.

Chem­i­cal weapons have been used in al­most every decade since their ad­vent just over a cen­tury ago. They are not a specter, like nu­clear weapons. We know their ef­fects, and how nu­mer­ous states have em­ployed them, and how they might do so in the fu­ture. In fact, af­ter a few decades of rel­a­tive non-use, chem­i­cal-weapons at­tacks have again ex­ploded onto the scene—as a weapon of war, ter­ror, and as a tool of state as­sas­si­na­tion. Their flex­i­bil­ity is part of their unique power.

To­day, there is an in­ter­na­tional le­gal regime, sur­round­ing the Chem­i­cal Weapons Con­ven­tion (CWC), and an as­so­ci­ated watch­dog body, the Or­ga­ni­za­tion for the Pro­hi­bi­tion of Chem­i­cal Weapons (OPCW), tasked with reg­u­lat­ing treaty com­pli­ance. No CWC sig­na­tory—and there are 193 states-par­ties—is al­lowed to use chem­i­cal weapons, or even stock­pile them. But in the last half-decade, that hasn't stopped these states from us­ing them. Nor, be­cause of great power pol­i­tics, has this chem­i­cal weapons counter-pro­lif­er­a­tion regime been able to ad­e­quately de­ter non-sig­na­to­ries, or their en­ablers.

De­spite re­cent saber-rat­tling by the Trump ad­min­is­tra­tion on North Ko­rea's nu­clear pro­gram, the like­li­hood of nu­clear ex­change be­tween states is low. (Be­cause of the con­se­quences of such an ex­change, this is a low-prob­a­bil­ity event that has to be treated as an ex­i­gent threat.) Yet the use of chem­i­cal weapons will likely con­tinue un­abated. It is un­clear what this will mean in a world where the West­ern lib­eral or­der is fray­ing from the in­side, China is ris­ing, and Rus­sia is re­nascent, but the most likely an­swer is: a weak­en­ing of the post-cold war chem­i­cal weapons counter-pro­lif­er­a­tion regime. And this could have con­se­quences for in­ter­na­tional peace and se­cu­rity for decades to come.

The era of WMDs be­gan not with a bang, but a hiss. Ger­many, which be­fore World War I had the planet's most ad­vanced chem­i­cal in­dus­try, quickly sought to weaponize its ad­vances in this area. As early as 1914, Ger­many con­sid­ered in­sert­ing chlo­rine—a pow­er­ful ir­ri­tant and chok­ing agent—into ar­tillery shells and gas cylin­ders. The very first mod­ern chem­i­cal at­tack oc­curred at Ypres, Bel­gium, on April 22, 1915. Ger­man troops fired cylin­ders con­tain­ing 150 tons of chlo­rine at un­sus­pect­ing French sol­diers, with whom they were en­gaged in a deadly war of at­tri­tion. A slow-mov­ing cloud—re­leased when the winds were fa­vor­able—wafted across no man's land to French en­trench­ments. The chlo­rine burned the lin­ing of French troops' bronchial tubes. It caused blind­ness, un­con­trol­lable cough­ing, nau­sea, headaches, and stab­bing pains in the chest. Some of the ex­posed sol­diers sim­ply choked to death.

An (in­evitable) arms race be­tween the Al­lied and Cen­tral pow­ers fol­lowed, but Ger­many had a sig­nif­i­cant head start. By Armistice Day, both sides had tested 3,000 dif­fer­ent chem­i­cals for their po­ten­tial as weapons. And what ac­tu­ally made it to the bat­tle­field was used prodi­giously: com­bat­ants em­ployed 124,000 met­ric tons of chem­i­cal weapons, de­liv­ered by 66 mil­lion ar­tillery shells, over the course of the con­flict. Ex­po­sure to gases caused one mil­lion ca­su­al­ties, in­clud­ing 90,000 fa­tal­i­ties. Many ex­posed to gases were per­ma­nently dis­abled.

Chem­i­cal weapons killed, but some­times that wasn't even their main pur­pose. Mus­tard gas, a pow­er­ful blis­ter­ing agent and skin ir­ri­tant, was only in­tro­duced onto the bat­tle­field (again, by Ger­many) in 1917, but its out­ward ef­fects were so hor­rific—even though ex­po­sure to it was rarely fa­tal—that its use­ful­ness as a weapon of ter­ror was im­me­di­ately ap­par­ent. (In­di­vid­u­als ex­posed to phos­gene, which was by far the dead­liest gas used in WWI—and was re­spon­si­ble for 85 per­cent of all gas-re­lated deaths dur­ing that war—did not man­i­fest out­ward symp­toms the same way, and so its role is oddly for­got­ten to­day. Ex­posed in­di­vid­u­als were of­ten asymp­to­matic for hours, then their lungs filled with fluid and they died rapidly.)

The use of chem­i­cal weapons was likely al­ready il­le­gal un­der in­ter­na­tional law be­fore World War I, but that didn't stop ei­ther side. Cus­tom—first cod­i­fied in the Franco-Ger­man Treaty of 1675—pre­vi­ously for­bid the use of poi­son in war. In 1874, over a dozen Eu­ro­pean states signed (but did not rat­ify) the Brus­sels De­c­la­ra­tion, which pro­hib­ited the use of poi­son gas and poi­son in con­flict. Then, in the 1899 Hague Con­ven­tion on the Laws of War, the Eu­ro­pean pow­ers again agreed to re­frain from us­ing poi­son in war. States even signed a sep­a­rate state­ment there, called the Hague De­c­la­ra­tion Con­cern­ing As­phyx­i­at­ing Gases, which out­lawed the use of pro­jec­tiles whose "sole ob­ject" was gas war­fare.

Dur­ing World War I, the Ger­mans and sub­se­quently the Al­lies vi­o­lated, if not the let­ter, than the spirit of this law, by claim­ing that since their sides' chem­i­cal pro­jec­tiles were "not solely" for the de­liv­ery of gas—a sol­dier might be in­jured by the ar­tillery shell car­ry­ing the poi­son gas, you see—they were not con­tra­ven­ing the 1899 Hague De­c­la­ra­tion.

Af­ter the war, this spirit of for­mal com­pli­ance and in­for­mal hypocrisy lived on in the 1925 Geneva Pro­to­col on As­phyx­i­at­ing, Poi­so­nous and Other Gases, which sought to ac­tu­ally make all uses of chem­i­cal weapons il­le­gal in war.

All the great pow­ers (ex­cept­ing the United States and Japan) quickly rat­i­fied the pro­posal, but vol­un­tar­ily opted for a poi­son pill: sig­na­to­ries re­served the right to use chem­i­cal weapons in re­tal­i­a­tion for an­other state's chem­i­cal at­tack, and did not con­sider them­selves bound to the treaty if en­gaged in hos­til­i­ties with a non-sig­na­tory. (The pro­to­col also did not for­bid chem­i­cal weapons stock­pil­ing and de­vel­op­ment.)

The treaty was vi­ti­ated within a decade. Fas­cist Italy, seek­ing to es­tab­lish a colo­nial em­pire in Africa, waged a vi­cious war against Ethiopia in the 1930s. Mus­solini's troops used chem­i­cal weapons, in­clud­ing mus­tard bombs, ex­ten­sively on Ethiopian vil­lagers in 1935 and 1936. Chem­i­cal weapons caused 15,000 of the 50,000 to­tal Ethiopian ca­su­al­ties in the war, ac­cord­ing to So­viet es­ti­mates. The use of mus­tard gas—which tar­gets un­ex­posed skin—was par­tic­u­larly cruel, as Ethiopian sol­diers and civil­ians of­ten did not wear shoes. (The high num­ber of Russ­ian chem­i­cal weapons ca­su­al­ties in World War I—425,000—was also largely due to the troops' lack of pro­tec­tive gear.) Though Italy's ac­tions were a fla­grant vi­o­la­tion of the 1925 Pro­to­col, the League of Na­tions did noth­ing.

And Italy wasn't the only con­tem­po­ra­ne­ous chem­i­cal-weapons per­pe­tra­tor. Dur­ing its in­va­sion of China dur­ing World War II, Japan dropped mus­tard gas and other chem­i­cal-weapons bombs on Chi­nese sol­diers and civil­ians, killing at least 2,000 and in­jur­ing 35,000, ac­cord­ing to archival re­search in both coun­tries. (This, com­bined with Ger­many's wide­spread use of gas in its geno­cide of Eu­ro­pean Jewry, should put to bed the ca­nard that poi­son gas was some­how not part of World War II.)

Al­though chem­i­cal weapons were not ul­ti­mately em­ployed on the Eu­ro­pean bat­tle­field dur­ing World War II, Axis and Al­lied pow­ers both man­u­fac­tured tens of thou­sands of tons of chem­i­cal weapons dur­ing the war. There was a for­got­ten arms race, wherein the "bal­ance of ter­ror" held the other side in check. But while the Al­lies re­fined older-model gases like phos­gene and mus­tard, the Ger­mans in­vented a new, far dead­lier cat­e­gory of chem­i­cal weapons—nerve agents. (In one of the great­est in­tel­li­gence coups of the war, the Nazis suc­cess­fully kept this de­vel­op­ment se­cret from the Al­lies un­til their sur­ren­der. If they had cho­sen to use these weapons on Al­lied troops, they might have al­tered the course of his­tory.)

Once again, Ger­many had its su­pe­rior chem­i­cal in­dus­try to thank. Chemists from IG Far­ben, then one of the world's largest cor­po­ra­tions, stum­bled on com­pounds of ex­tra­or­di­nary po­tency while try­ing to de­velop po­ten­tial in­sec­ti­cides for com­mer­cial use. What be­came Sarin, Tabun, and So­man—all nerve gases, which cause the cas­cad­ing fail­ure of body func­tions, in­clud­ing the body "for­get­ting" to breathe, and then rapid death—were de­vel­oped by Ger­man sci­en­tists work­ing with their Wehrma­cht coun­ter­parts.

Be­cause of their power, nerve gases au­gured a new era in chem­i­cal weapons, lead­ing to yet an­other arms race—this time be­tween the U.S. and its al­lies and the So­viet Union, which sought to de­velop ever-dead­lier and more per­sis­tent nerve weapons and de­liv­ery sys­tems for them. By 1957, the U.S. had stock­piled so much Sarin do­mes­ti­cally that it turned to de­vel­op­ing the next-gen­er­a­tion of nerve gases—known as "V" (for ven­omous) agents—se­lect­ing one agent, VX, for wide­spread pro­duc­tion. VX was three times more toxic than Sarin when in­haled, and a thou­sand times more toxic when ab­sorbed through the skin: the­o­ret­i­cally, one liter of VX con­tained enough in­di­vid­ual doses to kill one mil­lion peo­ple. In the late 1950s, So­viet in­tel­li­gence se­cretly ob­tained the for­mula for VX, and started pro­duc­ing it do­mes­ti­cally.

The USSR was a ma­jor pro­lif­er­a­tor of chem­i­cal weapons in the cold war, es­pe­cially through its then-ally Egypt, which it­self be­came a chem­i­cal weapons su­per­power. (To this day, Egypt re­fuses to sign the Chem­i­cal Weapons Con­ven­tion, cit­ing Is­rael's sta­tus as an un­de­clared nu­clear power.) Ac­cord­ing to pub­lished re­ports, in the 1960s, Egypt­ian army of­fi­cers trav­eled to the USSR for mil­i­tary train­ing re­lated to of­fen­sive chem­i­cal weapons.

Egypt rapidly used this knowl­edge. In 1963, it be­gan us­ing phos­gene and mus­tard gas in its war against Yemeni roy­al­ist forces. Through 1967, Egypt­ian forces used chem­i­cal weapons—in­clud­ing nerve gas—in Yemen. Cyril­lic mark­ing on some bombs dropped by Egypt­ian troops led an­a­lysts to be­lieve that the So­viet Union had ei­ther pro­vided Egypt with nerve gas, or was us­ing Yemen as a test­ing ground for it.

By the mid-1970s, the So­vi­ets had de­vel­oped a new class of nerve agents—known as the Novi­chok se­ries—that were the most pow­er­ful ever in­vented. Test­ing showed some of these agents to be up to eight times as deadly as VX. To this day, Rus­sia has de­nied ever pos­sess­ing a weapon of its own in­ven­tion.

But when it came to ef­fect­ing mass ca­su­al­ties, ear­lier gen­er­a­tions of chem­i­cal weapons—which had pro­lif­er­ated widely across the Mid­dle East—were more than suf­fi­cient. (Start­ing in the 1970s, Egypt helped kick start the Syr­ian, Libyan, and Iraqi chem­i­cal weapons pro­grams.) In 1980, Iraq, seek­ing oil wealth, launched a bloody war with Iran. From 1983 on­ward, Sad­dam Hus­sein's troops used chem­i­cal weapons ex­ten­sively, in­clud­ing mus­tard, Tabun, Sarin, and VX, against its Iran­ian an­tag­o­nists. Iran claims that 60,000 of its sol­diers were treated for in­juries re­lated to ex­po­sure. (30,000 still suf­fer from ef­fects to­day, say the Ira­ni­ans.)

In 1988, Sad­dam fol­lowed his war with Iran with a bru­tal eth­nic cleans­ing cam­paign against Iran-al­lied Kurds in Iraq's north. In the Iraqi city of Ha­l­abja, Sad­dam's troops car­peted the city with a cock­tail of mus­tard, Sarin, and VX gases, killing up to 5,000 and in­jur­ing 10,000. The as­sault on Ha­l­abja, which has been called the sin­gle biggest chem­i­cal weapons at­tack on civil­ians in his­tory, pro­vides a taste of what a large-scale chem­i­cal "paci­fi­ca­tion" cam­paign in an ur­ban area might look like to­day.

The U.S., deeply hos­tile to the Iran­ian regime, was muted in its crit­i­cism of Iraq. Mud­dy­ing the wa­ters, Rea­gan ad­min­is­tra­tion of­fi­cials even spec­u­lated pub­licly that Iran might have been re­spon­si­ble for the gas at­tack at Ha­l­abja.

Be­cause of the end of the cold war, the 1990s pre­sented a rare mo­ment of op­por­tu­nity on chem­i­cal weapons. The Chem­i­cal Weapons Con­ven­tion (CWC), borne on the back of ne­go­ti­a­tions be­tween the two su­per­pow­ers in the 1980s, went into ef­fect in 1997. Pro­hibit­ing both the use and pos­ses­sion of any chem­i­cal agents de­signed for mil­i­tary use, it was an in­ter­na­tional le­gal land­mark. The OPCW helped track states' com­pli­ance with the treaty, ver­i­fy­ing states' com­mit­ment to safely de­stroy their ex­ist­ing chem­i­cal-weapons stocks.

Aside from the hor­rific 1995 Tokyo Sub­way Sarin at­tack by the mil­lenar­ian Aum Shun­rikyo death cult, that decade, and the one that fol­lowed it, were bless­edly free from chem­i­cal at­tacks. (Ac­cord­ing to cred­i­ble pub­lic sources, cor­rupt Russ­ian gov­ern­ment and mil­i­tary of­fi­cials pro­vided Aum Shun­rikyo with the nec­es­sary tech­ni­cal knowl­edge and train­ing. Rus­sia's role in pro­lif­er­a­tion in this con­text has gone oddly un­re­marked.) And Sad­dam Hus­sein—un­til his 2003 over­throw, the great­est ex­tant chem­i­cal weapons threat—was con­tained by mul­ti­lat­eral sanc­tions and U.S. de­ter­rence power. Now, Sad­dam is long gone. But in the last half decade, the scourge of chem­i­cal weapons came roar­ing back.

When the Syr­ian Civil War be­gan in 2011, few were naïve about the Ba'athist regime's will­ing­ness to slaugh­ter its own peo­ple. In 1982, Syr­ian pres­i­dent Hafez al-As­sad—fa­ther of Bashar al-As­sad, the cur­rent Syr­ian leader—bru­tally sup­pressed an Is­lamist re­volt in the Syr­ian city of Hama, be­sieg­ing and de­stroy­ing whole parts of the city. An es­ti­mated 20,000 peo­ple were killed.

Nor was it a sur­prise that Syria had an ex­ten­sive stock­pile of chem­i­cal weapons. At the be­gin­ning of the war, it was one of the world's few hold­outs on the CWC, and had long re­fused to sign the treaty. Syria, long con­sid­ered a chem­i­cal weapons su­per­power, viewed its ca­pac­ity to in­flict mass death via gas war­fare as a nec­es­sary de­ter­rent against Is­rael.

But it was nonethe­less shock­ing when the As­sad regime de­cided to use these weapons on its own peo­ple. By late 2012, there was cred­i­ble ev­i­dence that Syr­ian loy­al­ist forces had used chem­i­cal weapons on rebel groups. In Au­gust 2013, As­sad loy­al­ists blan­keted the rebel-held Dam­as­cus sub­urb of East Gh­outa with Sarin, killing over 1,000 peo­ple, mostly civil­ians. The Obama ad­min­is­tra­tion, which had pre­vi­ously drawn a "red line" around the use of chem­i­cal weapons in the con­flict, wa­vered on a mil­i­tary re­sponse af­ter threat­en­ing tar­geted strikes at As­sad regime fa­cil­i­ties. With U.S. and in­ter­na­tional sup­port, the Russ­ian gov­ern­ment then bro­kered a deal that would place Syria's de­clared chem­i­cal weapons stocks un­der UN and OPCW con­trol. Ac­cord­ing to the deal, these weapons would be re­moved from the coun­try and ul­ti­mately de­stroyed, and Syria would ac­cede to the Chem­i­cal Weapons Con­ven­tion.

But al­though Syria's de­clared chem­i­cal weapons stocks were os­ten­si­bly de­stroyed, the at­tacks con­tin­ued. In some cases, As­sadist forces ap­peared to use bar­rel bombs con­tain­ing chlo­rine, which, be­cause of its many com­mer­cial uses, is not banned un­der the CWC. In oth­ers, As­sadist forces ap­peared to have con­tin­ued to use nerve gases. In 2017, in Syria's Idlib province, regime forces used Sarin in an at­tack that killed 83 peo­ple. In 2018, 80 were killed in a gas at­tack, likely chlo­rine as well as nerve agents, per­pe­trated by the regime in Douma. Ac­cord­ing to es­ti­mates, the As­sad regime has au­thored at least 50 sep­a­rate chem­i­cal at­tacks over the course of the war. Over this pe­riod, Syria's key ally in the con­flict—Rus­sia—has de­fended it at the UN Se­cu­rity Coun­cil, OPCW, and other in­ter­na­tional bod­ies, pre­vent­ing fur­ther puni­tive ac­tion.

Rus­sia's fa­cil­i­ta­tion of the break­down of the norms and laws sur­round­ing chem­i­cal weapons doesn't end there. In March 2018, an ex-So­viet spy and de­fec­tor to the U.K., Sergei Skri­pal, and his daugh­ter, Yu­lia, were nearly killed in their Eng­lish vil­lage by ex­po­sure to Novi­chok, the So­viet-pro­duced nerve agent that ranks among the dead­liest in the world. Rus­sia—and par­tic­u­larly its spy ser­vices—is widely con­sid­ered to be be­hind the at­tack. An in­no­cent Eng­lish cou­ple also picked up the dis­carded nerve agent in a park; the woman, Dawn Sturgess, died soon af­ter ex­po­sure.

(Rus­sia is not the only coun­try re­cently to use chem­i­cal agents to as­sas­si­nate dis­si­dents or per­ceived threats to the regime; North Ko­rea used VX to as­sas­si­nate Kim Jung Nam, North Ko­rean leader Kim Jong Un's half-brother, at Malaysia's Kuala Lumpur In­ter­na­tional Air­port in Feb­ru­ary 2017. North Ko­rea, which is not a party to the CWC, is thought to have be­gun its weapons pro­gram in the 1960s with tech­ni­cal as­sis­tance from the So­viet Union and China.)

The global chem­i­cal weapons counter-pro­lif­er­a­tion regime is at a cross­roads. A sig­na­tory to the Chem­i­cal Weapons Con­ven­tion, Syria, has con­tin­ued to in­dis­crim­i­nately use nerve and other gases on civil­ian pop­u­la­tions, killing thou­sands, in what can rea­son­ably be de­scribed as war crimes and crimes against hu­man­ity. Syria's in­ter­na­tional spon­sor—Rus­sia—also a sig­na­tory to the CWC, has pre­vented in­ter­na­tional ac­tion to co­or­di­nate an ef­fec­tive re­sponse and de­ter­rent to the As­sad regime. Rus­sia—which has de­clared it­self chem­i­cal weapons-free—clearly lied about its stock­piles, since its agents at­tempted to use a deadly nerve agent in the mid­dle of an Eng­lish city. Rus­sia has never even ad­mit­ted to pos­sess­ing the se­ries of agents—Novi­chok—that it it­self in­vented in the 1970s, and used to try and kill the Skri­pals.

In the last few years, then, chem­i­cal at­tacks have oc­curred in a vil­lage in the heart of a Eu­ro­pean NATO ally; a war zone in the Mid­dle East; and a bustling, ma­jor South­east Asian air­port. We can look at these as iso­lated events, or as ca­naries in the coalmine.

The Obama ad­min­is­tra­tion, al­though act­ing in good faith, waf­fled in its re­sponse to Syr­ian chem­i­cal weapons use; the Trump ad­min­is­tra­tion, whose Rus­sia-re­lated for­eign pol­icy can char­i­ta­bly be de­scribed as in­co­her­ent, does not seem to have much in­ter­est in push­ing back on Putin for its Novi­chok at­tack in the UK, or re­gard­ing the be­hav­ior of its Syr­ian al­lies. The post-World War II al­liance is now at its weak­est since the 1940s. This fray­ing of the rules-based global or­der will have many wor­ry­ing con­se­quences, and the pro­lif­er­a­tion—and use—of chem­i­cal weapons are among the most se­ri­ous of them. Oth­er­wise, the world may find it­self again peer­ing "dim[ly] through the misty panes and thick green light," as the poet Wil­fred Owen de­scribed the hor­rors of gas at­tacks a full cen­tury ago.

About the Au­thor

Zach Dorf­man is a se­nior fel­low at the Carnegie Coun­cil for Ethics in In­ter­na­tional Af­fairs and a free­lance writer and ed­i­tor, fo­cus­ing on US for­eign pol­icy, ter­ror­ism, es­pi­onage and the Mid­dle East.

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