Pages

18 November 2021

The paradox of American power: Even when we're losing, we're winning

Michael O'Hanlon

With the American and allied withdrawal from Afghanistan, resulting in what was recently described by Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Gen. Mark Milley as a “strategic failure,” we have now again witnessed the post-World War II paradox of U.S. foreign policy: We often fail to win wars, yet at the same time we sustain the most successful grand strategy of any power in the history of the planet.

In 1950, after practically green-lighting a North Korean invasion of South Korea by declaring the latter outside our perimeter of strategic concern, the United States put together a military coalition that was twice driven back below the 38th parallel, twice losing Seoul in the process – once at the hands of North Korean troops and once due to Chinese intervention.

Ultimately we fought to a stalemate at huge cost in lives and treasure – with the war only being concluded after a newly-inaugurated President Dwight D. Eisenhower threatened the Chinese with nuclear attack if they did not accept a reasonable ceasefire.

Oscillating success of military ventures

Then, from 1965 to 1973, the United States suffered its clearest defeat of all in the Vietnam War. By 1975, North Vietnam had taken the whole country, and beyond the immediate battlefield consequences of the war, America’s sense of national self was reeling.

Then in the 1980s we had a turning point of sorts, with the Reagan defense buildup combined with a decade of relative peace. That said, we lost 241 American servicemembers in a tragic bombing in Beirut in 1983, and the magnitude of that loss could not be outweighed by a (mostly) successful invasion of Grenada or a bombing run against targets in then-terrorist Libya.

The George H.W. Bush presidency went much better, with a small-scale win in Panama and a big victory in Operation Desert Storm. We then struggled through the rest of the 1990s, however, suffering tragedy in “Black Hawk Down” in Mogadishu, Somalia in 1993, and finding a way to limit genocide in the Balkans only after considerable delay and great tragedy. Saddam Hussein refused to let weapons inspectors do their jobs, and Iraq remained an ongoing worry. Meanwhile, Osama bin Laden, convinced the United States was a paper tiger, prepared al-Qaida’s big attack.

Since 9/11, we struggled mightily in both Afghanistan and Iraq. We had big early successes in both places, in 2001 and 2003, but then long and exhausting slogs that failed to produce stability in either place – despite the brilliance of the surge in Iraq in 2007 to 2008, which brought down violence by 90% but could not itself produce a cohesive Iraqi polity. By 2014, ISIS owned a third of Iraq and in 2021, the Afghanistan government fell.

Viewing the whole thing together, in the four big conflicts of Korea, Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan, it would appear that we created expensive stalemates in Korea and Iraq, and failed in our missions in Vietnam and Afghanistan. Put crudely, that looks like a record of 0-2-2. Or, if we view the Iraq experience from 1990 to the present as two separate wars, perhaps 1-2-2. This despite having the world’s best military throughout that entire post-1945 period, with very brave and dedicated troops.

Yet the United States still leads a coalition of allies collectively wielding two-thirds of all global GDP, and accounting for two-thirds of all worldwide defense spending. There has been no great-power war on the planet since at least 1953 (depending on how one defines the Korean War). How could we be so successful while failing so miserably so often?

Does God favor the United States?

Perhaps some of it is luck. As the 19th century German statesman Otto von Bismarck put it: "God has special providence for fools, drunkards and the United States of America."

A more serious answer would however have to examine our structural strengths – the nation’s size and economic fundamentals, its geography within generally safe North American borders (yet close enough to east Asia and western Europe to build strong military alliances with partners in those regions), our democratic model of government (however flawed). It would appear that we are powerful and resilient enough to be able to absorb numerous setbacks.

It also helps greatly that, at least beyond North America (more or less), we have not been a hyper-expansionist power in our history. Other countries may at times dislike us but they tend not to fear us – and in many cases, they find it advantageous to be allied with the United States.

There are also specific mitigating dimensions to most of our military setbacks. In Korea, we did hold the line against attempted Communist aggression at a crucial moment in the Cold War, giving South Korea a chance eventually to become the prosperous democracy it is today. In Vietnam, while I can find little to redeem the immediate outcome of the conflict itself, we have somehow become friends with the regime that wound up in power there, and in fact now collaborate in addressing mutual security concerns about China.

The Iraq war did not produce a shining example of Arab democracy – but things may be looking up ever so slightly there, and at least the murderous Hussein family is no longer in charge, plotting its next dastardly act (don’t forget that behind Saddam there were his now-deceased sons Uday and Qusay).

That brings us to Afghanistan, and Milley’s purported “strategic failure.” At one level, the chairman’s bluntness is commendable, as is his acknowledgement that we (all of us) must learn lessons from that difficult and ultimately unsuccessful saga. It is true that we failed to build up a resilient democratic Afghan state, even after two decades of effort.

But at another level, perhaps there is even a silver lining in Afghanistan – beyond the important fact that we did not again suffer a big terrorist attack emanating from Afghan soil after 9/11. The Taliban seem not to want another fight with us. They helped us evacuate some 120,000 westerners in August, and are not engaging in systemic retaliatory bloodbaths against westerners or even our former Afghan partners despite being firmly ensconced in power. It is doubtful they will choose to join hands with al-Qaida in planning new attacks against the West (though the Biden administration will have to work hard to be sure). Beyond wanting to avoid military confrontation with the United States, they desire diplomatic recognition, access to Afghanistan’s bank accounts abroad, and some degree of future assistance as well.

None of this will produce the government or society we would have wanted in Afghanistan, and none of it will redeems President Joe Biden’s decision to pull out so abruptly this year. But together these factors provide considerable potential leverage in trying to help forge a system of governance in Afghanistan that we can live with.

The paradox of American power is that, while we may not be that good at wielding it, the system of alliances and global leadership itself is so well conceived that it can absorb a number of blows without crumbling. None of this is to excuse complacency about future challenges and threats. But we should address them with a certain underlying confidence about the strength of our position.

No comments:

Post a Comment