| In Defense of Endless
War |
| As 9/11 showed, civilization has enemies
with which peace is neither possible nor desirable. |
| By Christopher Hitchens (from
Slate) |
|
|
 A continuous and repetitive thread in the
commentary on the decade since 9/11—one might almost call it an
endless and open-ended theme—was the plaintive observation that
the struggle against al-Qaida and its surrogates is somehow a
"war without end." (This is variously rendered as "perpetual
war" or "endless war," just as anti-war articles about the
commitment to Iraq used to relentlessly stress the idea that
there was "no end in sight.")
I find it rather hard to see the force of this objection, or
indeed this description. Was there ever a time when we involved
ourselves in combat, or found ourselves involved, with any
certain advance knowledge about the timeline and duration of
hostilities? Are there two kinds of war, one of them
term-limited? A bit like that other tempting but misleading
separation of categories—between "wars of choice" and "wars of
necessity"—this proves upon closer scrutiny to be a distinction
without much difference.
In order even to aspire to such a nebulous timeline, there would
first have to be consensus on when the war actually started. For
example, I would say that hostilities between the United States
and Saddam Hussein began in the early 1990s, if only at a
relatively low level, after he had violated all the conditions
of the cease-fire that had allowed him to retain power in 1991,
and after he had begun regularly firing upon the planes that
patrolled and enforced the cease-fire and the "no-fly" zones.
For more than a decade, the only response to this was more air
patrols and a reliance on a crumbling regime of sanctions. That
really was a case of "no end in sight." But something tells me
that this is not the sort of example that my opponents have in
mind.
Then again, one might ask how long we have been at war with
al-Qaida or its equivalents. Since the attack on the World Trade
Center in 1993? Since the destruction of the U.S. embassies in
Africa? Since the near-sinking of the USS Cole in Aden harbor in
2000? Even to invite these questions is to arouse the unnerving
suspicion that there was quite a long period during which
al-Qaida was at war with us, but we did not understand that we
were at war with it. It was precisely that queasy feeling that
was beginning to creep over some of us a while before the events
of a decade ago dispelled most doubts. And it would have been
just as true to say "no end in sight" on Sept. 12, 2001, as it
would be to say it today—more true, if anything. So once again,
those who want to set the clock must be crystal clear about when
they think the confrontation started running.
Attitudes toward length are often a good clue to attitudes
toward outcome. During the Bosnian conflict, those of us who
favored using force to lift the siege of Sarajevo were accused
of advocating a tactic that would "lengthen" the war. Even in
the trivial sense of being true by definition (anything that
denied Gen. Ratko Mladic a cheap, easy, and swift victory over
civilians was necessarily war-prolonging to some extent), this
wasn't true in any serious way. The relatively brief bombardment
of Serbian artillery positions had the effect of exposing the
hollowness of Mladic's military strength: Within an amazingly
short time, Slobodan Milosevic himself was at Dayton asking for
terms. One might phrase it like this: Intervention slightly
lengthened hostilities in the short term, but drastically
shortened them in the long term. (Milosevic later misinterpreted
the Dayton agreements as lenience and tried to repeat his
Bosnian tactics in Kosovo. But even if this could be construed
as war-prolonging, it also led to the eventual defeat of his
army and overthrow of his regime, and thus to a conclusive
finish.)
Arguments about duration are often of great historical
significance, going far beyond the battles of mere hindsight.
For instance, the conventional wisdom among historians holds
that United States military intervention in Europe in 1917 had
the salutary effect of persuading the German high command that,
with another fresh and well-equipped force deployed against it,
it could not hope to prevail against the British and French
alliance. But another explanation of the same events shows the
war on the Western Front actually being prolonged. Before
President Woodrow Wilson abandoned neutrality and committed
American forces in strength, the Germans had been fighting with
exceptional success. Their prowess had led to calls, especially
in London, for a negotiated peace. But the arrival of a new ally
dissipated all such talk and compelled the Germans to fight
until the bitter end. Not only that, but when peace terms were
finally discussed, the French were allowed and enabled to press
their most vindictive economic and territorial claims against
Germany. That the Versailles Treaty led to the rise of Nazism
and thus to the "Second" World War, or rather Part 2 of the
first one, is a conclusion that few historians now dispute. So
short-war advocates should know to beware of what they ask for.
A final objection to the dogma of brief engagements is more
commonsensical. On the whole, perhaps it is best not to tell
your opponent in advance of the date when you plan to withdraw
your forces. Many American generals, we understand, were
critical of the president's original decision to announce a
deadline for the endgame in Afghanistan. Certainly, there seem
to be upsetting signs of Afghan national army units, in
particular, basing their calculations on who can be counted on
to be still present as the months go by. Difficult to blame
people for consulting their own self-interest in this blunt way.
Human history seems to register many more years of conflict than
of tranquillity. In one sense, then, it is fatuous to whine that
war is endless. We do have certain permanent enemies—the
totalitarian state; the nihilist/terrorist cell—with which
"peace" is neither possible nor desirable. Acknowledging this,
and preparing for it, might give us some advantages in a war
that seems destined to last as long as civilization is willing
to defend itself. |
| |
| |
| |
|
 |
|
