Peter L. Berger's Blog, page 580
October 4, 2015
The Kingdom Signals Muslim Brotherhood Rapprochement
Saudi Arabia recently invited the leader of the Muslim Brotherhood to an event sponsored by the Kingdom in Riyadh, in a signal that the country’s government may be trying to bury the hatchet with the Islamist group. Reuters reports:
Sheikh Youssef al-Qaradawi, a Qatar-based cleric whose fiery sermons have strained ties with Gulf neighbors, appeared alongside the Qatari prime minister and the Saudi ambassador at an event in Doha to celebrate Saudi Arabia’s national day.
The accession to the Saudi throne in January of King Salman, who is more sympathetic to religious conservatives than his predecessor King Abdullah, caused glimmers of hope among Muslim Brotherhood exiles in Qatar that the Middle East’s political winds had started to shift in their favor, potentially giving the Islamist group more space to act.Salman, while stopping short of befriending the Brotherhood, has worked to reduce tensions with the movement’s own allies, strengthening Riyadh’s ties with Turkey and Qatar and reaching out to Islah, the Islamist group’s offshoot in Yemen.
Significant obstacles still remain, most notably the fact that Saudi Arabia’s close ally (and quasi-client) Egypt has a government that deeply hates and fears the Muslim Brotherhood. But that this rapprochement is even on the table should be a very worrying signal to Washington, as it shows that the Sunnis, who feel abandoned in the wake of the Iran deal, are circling the wagons. As that happens, more and more extremist groups who were previously unacceptable to the Gulf monarchies may start to be tolerated as the lesser of two evils. Already in Syria, al Nusra, an al Qaeda offshoot, has Saudi and Turkish backing; soon even more radical groups, even ISIS, may seem tolerable as “allies” in the grand sectarian war on the horizon. If that happens, the consequences for the region will be explosive.
The Specter of Saudi Instability
Reports of dissension in Saudi Arabia continue to mount, as “palace intrigues” against the Kingdom’s defense minister leak into the open. The Sunday Times:
Prince Mohammed bin Salman, 30, is accused in an incendiary letter by critics claiming to represent “senior ranks of the Al Saud royal family”, of “major character flaws” and of being “unfit for high office”.
The letter, a copy of which has been seen by The Sunday Times, also charges the prince, second-in-line to the throne, with “youthful foolishness” for launching military strikes “against a defenceless people” in Yemen, Saudi Arabia’s impoverished southern neighbour.
In one way, this story is not surprising. There are literally thousands of members of the House of Saud, and they don’t all agree. And many decisions taken recently—like the Saudi military intervention in Yemen’s civil war—are controversial.
But the real story here is the unprecedented stress that Saudi Arabia is under these days. Iran’s regional push was already raising fears and putting pressure on a government that rests its legitimacy on the defense of Sunni Islam, and the collapse in oil prices, exacerbated by the Saudi decision to keep pumping, makes everything harder for the desert kingdom (though, Saudis hope, it causes some problems in Iran and now Russia too). Add in the global slowdown driven by China’s weakness, and it’s clear that the Saudi economy needs support from the government even as revenue falls. Already the Saudis are drawing on their reserves to meet current bills—and there could be lots more of this to come.Saudi Arabia has long been a very cautious player on the international stage. The government may profess a radical religious ideology, but it has been geopolitically conservative. That’s not surprising; an extremely rich desert country with huge oil reserves and vulnerable frontiers is likely going to be a status quo power. The Saudis, and the royal family especially, haven’t been interested in change—change is dangerous. That’s why the U.S.-Saudi relationship has lasted for more than 70 years despite frequent disagreements over issues ranging from Israel to human rights. The U.S. was willing to help ensure a stable geopolitical neighborhood for the monarchy, and the monarchy in turn mostly threw its weight behind the United States.The core problem that King Salman and his supporters now face is a problem than any Saudi ruler would face today: The United States no longer seems willing to commit to preserving a favorable status quo in the region. Indeed, by signing the nuclear agreement with Iran, the United States has vastly added to Iran’s economic ability to push for regional dominance—and while the Obama administration has made promises intended to soothe Saudi fears, there is less and less confidence that the U.S. will actually step up its regional engagement in order to counter the new assets it has given Iran.So what is an oil rich, absolute, Wahhabi monarch to do? King Salman and those around him have chosen an activist path. They supported the Egyptian army’s seizure of power in a rare direct confrontation with the United States, and they intervened in Yemen. In an effort to unify Sunnis under Saudi leadership, they led a coalition against the emerging Qatar-Turkey-Hamas-Morsi-era Egypt that effectively broke the Muslim Brotherhood and thwarted the AK Party’s efforts to center Sunni leadership on a different theological foundation than the Saudi platform. Since then, they have worked to rebuild a united Sunni front against Iran, especially in Syria. They have also been working with the Pakistani military in the hope that, should conditions worsen, the predominantly Sunni and increasingly Islamist Pakistani army would step in to help balance Iran. The Saudis have even flirted with a common front with Israel against Iran. Meanwhile, they have been cracking down at home, strengthening their ties with the clerical establishment, and crushing all signs of dissent, especially those from the Kingdom’s Shia minority.This policy mix is expensive, and it raises spending at a time of low oil prices. Many important domestic interests are upset by this cost, including the many members of the royal house whose own revenues and economic well-being suffer when oil prices fall. At the same time, implementing such a high profile, fast-moving policy has required dramatic shake-ups in the Saudi bureaucracy. Lots of people have been sidelined to make room for Salman loyalists, and many princes see Salman’s promotion of his favorite son to Defense Minister as a threat to their own positions.All this adds up to the following challenge: It is not clear that the Saudi system can bear the weight that an activist foreign policy imposes on it—but many senior Saudis now fear that without an activist foreign policy the Kingdom cannot survive in its present form.The unsurprising result is that just as the Kingdom’s external position is becoming less secure and more vulnerable, the internal political environment is now also showing new stress. This is great news for Iran and Russia—confusion and internal dissension in the Sunni world always helps. Indeed, many in Tehran must be hoping that a faction inside the royal house that favors a deal with Iran, even if that is on Iran’s terms, could come to power. Factionalism is the curse of autocratic polities, and very sudden shifts of policy can take place as an inside faction looks to an outside power for support.So far, from the standpoint of the rest of the world, it’s a welcome development that the current chaos and vicious warfare convulsing so much of the Middle East hasn’t affected the flow of oil. Indeed, the war is bringing prices down, as countries like Russia and Saudi Arabia are pumping all they can to maximize short term revenue (and, in the Saudi case, to put pressure on rivals like Iran). This means that even as the Middle East melts down, the rest of the world is benefitting from the economic stimulus that cheap oil provides.But imagine if that changed: If the war in the Middle East began to interfere with the production and transportation of oil. Imagine an oil price of $200 a barrel or more as pipelines were blown up or as political instability or civil war stopped production in key oilfields. Europe, China, and Japan would sink into recessions. Already jittery financial markets would swoon, and other commodity prices would crash even as oil soared. Yet the problems of the Middle East—the migrant flow from Syria and across Libya, for example—would continue and even deepen.Political turmoil inside Saudi Arabia is an early warning sign that the Middle East conflict is not just being fought out in the spaces between the oil fields, and that the instability of the war is beginning to impact the situation inside the great oil producers. We can hope (and here at TAI we devoutly do hope) that the world will be spared an oil crisis and an economic crisis even as we struggle with the war crisis in the Middle East. But for those who think the Middle East doesn’t really matter all that much anymore, and that the United States can safely turn aside and let sectarian fanatics fight it out with each other, a major oil crisis that destabilized the global economy would be an important wake-up call.Consider the Apple
Keeping an Eye Open: Essays on Art
By Julian BarnesKnopf, 2015, 288 pp., $30Julian Barnes is usually associated with intelligent, mesmerizing works of fiction such as Flaubert’s Parrot, Pulse, and The Sense of an Ending, but he has also written extensively on art, especially painting. This will not surprise anyone who has read his novels closely; what is unusual is his capacity for humor and insight, given that the field of art criticism often takes itself far too seriously for its own good. Keeping an Eye Open is about just what the title implies: that in looking at art, the most important thing is to, well, look at the art.
The 17 essays of the book, collected from an eclectic mix of publications, cover a great deal of ground, but Barnes says early in the piece that he has a particular interest in the story of how art made its way from Romanticism to Realism and on to Modernism—that is, from about 1850 to around 1920 (although he is quite willing to venture into more recent times). He is interested in how painting came to be about painting, rather than history, religion or propaganda. He sees Gericault and his The Raft of the Medusa as something of a starting point, examining how the painter shuffled around the facts of the real case to suit the needs of a narrative painting (the essay originally appeared in Barnes’ 1989 novel The History of the World in 10½ Chapters). The critics of the time did not take the idea well, but Gericault had set a process in motion and it was picked up by Courbet and Delacroix. And Manet as well: his The Execution of Maximilian is really a painting about character, structure, and drama posing as a political event. Bonnard, whom Barnes regards highly for the humility of his approach and the vibrancy of his palette, took the same idea into portraiture, focusing not on likeness but on essence. Barnes traces a line from him up to Lucien Freud, probably one of the most irascible and arrogant painters to have ever picked up a brush but redeemed by his determination to cut through to the heart and soul of his subject, to find what was there and portray it, even if it was not a pretty thing to look at (and perhaps especially so). In the case of Freud it can be difficult to separate the painter from his output, although we are obliged to try. Freud might be a fascinating fellow, in a horrible sort of way, but he demands that his paintings be judged in their own terms, as paintings of people, and Barnes agrees (this would probably be the only thing the two of them would ever agree on). The essay on Freud is also notable for Barnes’ invention of the word ‘flaubertising’, which comes with a story of its own. When a writer is comfortable enough with his material to go with an interpretation like this, it encourages the reader to accompany him for the ride. To say that Barnes is concerned with paintings as paintings is not to say that he is not interested in ideas. The essay on Magritte is affectionate, in part because Barnes likes the way that Magritte refuses to sit neatly in one or another category. There is an appealing cleverness to Magritte, a strangeness that is playful without being coy. In Magritte’s time, theories of art were already beginning to overtake practice, and his enduring images—a huge egg in a birdcage, apples in places where apples should not be, inside-out skies and bowler-hatted men—were a way of saying that painting can be a conversation, and a very enjoyable one, rather than a clash of aesthetic ideologies.Perhaps this is why Barnes is skeptical of Pop Art, although his essay on Oldenburg (titled “Good Soft Fun”) is not without its sense of appreciation. Barnes points out that Pop Art has not dated well, and these days can look a bit silly. Once one has got the idea of a giant bicycle or a hamburger made of cloth—understood the self-referentiality, laughed at the inside-ness of the joke, accepted the irony—there isn’t much there. Irony is not the same as subtlety (although pop artists might not grasp the distinction), and it is subtlety that keeps taking us back to Gericault, Manet, Degas, Braque, and, yes, Freud and Hodgkin as well. Barnes is too polite to say so, but one suspects that he has little time for people who call themselves artists but who cannot paint a decent apple. Cezanne, he says, could paint an apple, and did so, and thereby told us something (maybe everything) about the world. Seeing it is largely a matter of keeping an eye open.In the end, this is a remarkable book, articulate without a trace of pretension. It is worth reading slowly—unusual in this time of ours—to follow the connections and let the larger story unfold. Barnes clearly loves his subject, and equally loves good writing. So enjoy it as you would enjoy a fine painting, one you can see again and again, and see anew each time.Asian Frustration over College Admissions Deepens
The Asian American community is quietly growing more and more dissatisfied with the convoluted admissions regime at America’s elite colleges, a regime which gives advantages to other minority groups (in the form of affirmative action) and to whites (in the form of legacy and donor influence) but which seems to consistently disadvantage Asian applicants. The latest issue of the Economist has an in-depth look at Asian American organizations’ efforts to challenge the process, which they believe helps create a “bamboo ceiling” on Asian achievement in the professional world. A taste:
Racial prejudice of the sort that Jews faced may or may not be part of the problem, but affirmative action certainly is. Top universities tend to admit blacks and Hispanics with lower scores because of their history of disadvantage; and once the legacies, the sports stars, the politically well-connected and the rich people likely to donate new buildings (few of whom tend to be Asian) have been allotted their places, the number for people who are just high achievers is limited. Since the Ivies will not stop giving places to the privileged, because their finances depend on the generosity of the rich, the argument homes in on affirmative action. […]
College admissions—and the lawsuit against Harvard—may provide a spark to fire Asian-Americans into becoming more assertively political. Many in California were infuriated last year by a bill to rescind the state’s ban on using race in university admissions promoted by a Hispanic state senator. A Change.org petition and 36 organisations, 26 of them Asian-American, opposed the bill, and it was dropped. “There’s a growing community angst,” says Mr Hahn of the belief among Asian-Americans that they are being discriminated against. “What’s next? Law school admissions? Employment?” He organises political fund-raisers, and says that the coffers have opened. “Hedge-fund money, private equity, lawyers. They’re giving huge sums …It took the Jews half a century to get where they are,” he adds. “I hope it doesn’t take us that long.”
If the political conflict over affirmative action escalates, and if Asian American groups continue to mobilize, important Democratic constituencies will be pitted against each other in a way that could have real consequences for the durability of the blue coalition over the long run. Asian voting power is growing relative to other blue constituencies; Pew predicts that Asians will be the largest American immigrant group by the year 2065. Moreover, Asian immigrants are highly educated and upwardly mobile; as they begin to occupy more and more positions in fields like law, medicine, and even politics, their influence over public policy will grow.
Affirmative action alone won’t be enough to split the Democratic coalition. But it is representative of the fact that a party increasingly organized around identity politics will inevitably struggle to give all of its constituents what they want. When the interests of the various identity groups diverge on racial lines, the coalition becomes particularly fragile. Read the whole Economist piece to get a sense of why this is likely to be an increasingly important story in the coming months and years.October 3, 2015
Does the Arab World Need a Sexual Revolution?
Headscarves and Hymens: Why the Middle East Needs a Sexual Revolution by Mona Eltahawy (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 256 pp, $25)
Some of the most vocal critics of Islam today are women, including Muslim women. With her provocatively titled, Headscarves and Hymens: Why the Middle East Needs a Sexual Revolution, Egyptian American journalist Mona Eltahawy has secured her place in these ranks.
Eltahawy is perhaps best known in the United States for her fairly frequent New York Times op-eds and especially her Foreign Policy cover article, “Why Do They Hate Us? The Real War on Women Is in the Middle East”, in the May/June 2012 issue of that magazine. This specially designated “Sex Issue” of the magazine featured a demure but nevertheless provocative image of an Arab woman whose nude body is painted in black, covering her completely except for her eyes—Hugh Hefner’s version of a niqab, if you will. And in the spirit of Playboy, the issue featured a similarly “demure” centerfold.Such is the tenor of much commentary in the West about gender and sex in the Arab and Muslim world: bemused, mocking condescension. But as Eltahawy also illustrates in lurid detail, the status of women in Arab societies is a depressing topic. Unfortunately, her account is all the more depressing because of her uncritical embrace of American-style feminism. Indeed, her obscenity-laced, confessional narrative is reminiscent of what one encountered among educated American women in the high 1960s and the swinging 1970s.Yet how such a “sexual revolution” would benefit the mass of ordinary women in economically backward Arab societies Eltahawy fails to make clear; much less does she instruct us as to how any such revolution could come about.Indeed, while calling for “consciousness raising” to secure “women’s liberation” in the spirit of Gloria Steinem (whose friendship and support she cites in her acknowledgments), Eltahawy reminds us what a deeply conservative society her native Egypt is. One important indicator of that conservatism was the controversy over men and women protesters camping out together in Tahrir Square for eighteen historic days beginning in January 2011, a protest that was part of the so-called “Arab Spring” thought to be sweeping the region. As Eltahawy explains, those females were “violating the family-imposed curfews that controlled their daily lives” and engaging in “an unprecedented break with a code very few had challenged until then.” Not surprisingly, regime-controlled media took advantage of the situation to characterize the events as “young men and women doing drugs and having sex in tents in Tahrir Square.”More genuinely shocking, at least to Western readers, is Eltahawy’s account of the abusive treatment of females demonstrating in Cairo in March 2001, when troops of the post-Mubarak interim military regime arrested seventeen female demonstrators who “were beaten, prodded with electric shock batons, subjected to strip searches, forced to submit to ‘virginity tests,’ and threatened with prostitution charges.” Unlike Eltahawy, I will spare the reader the graphic details of the virginity tests. Less gut-wrenching, but just as disturbing, is Eltahawy’s account of laws in Arab countries that routinely allow rapists to escape conviction by marrying their victims. She cites estimates from Jordan that as many as 95 percent of rape cases there get resolved this way.Then there is child marriage, which Eltahawy reports is “permitted and prevalent” in poor countries such as Sudan, Yemen, and Egypt, but also in Saudi Arabia. She cites data from Yemen that in 2006 14 percent of females married before age fifteen. She goes on to report the case of an eight-year-old Yemini girl whose impoverished parents sold her off to a forty-year-old man who, in Eltahawy’s unnecessarily crude but revealing words, “fucked her to death on their ‘wedding night.’ ”Finally, Eltahawy focuses on female genital mutilation (FGM), citing a 2008 Egyptian government survey showing that 74 percent of girls aged fifteen to seventeen underwent the procedure, a number that actually constituted a downward trend. Though subsequently banned in Egypt, FGM is still practiced there by Christians as well as Muslims. It remains widespread in part because it has become “medicalized”, with most FGM procedures in Egypt conducted under professional auspices.Eltahawy’s response to all this is that the Arab world needs, as her subtitle suggests, a sexual—not a political—revolution. She insists that as far as Arab women are concerned “military rulers and Islamists are two sides of the same coin.” And she concludes by insisting that “women—our rage, our tenacity, our daring and audacity—will free our countries.” A great applause line if ever there was one.But like most applause lines, so what? What comes next? What’s missing in Eltahawy’s argument is any appreciation of the possible irony that the women doing the freeing may not be the liberated types she has in mind, but could very well be an Egyptian version of a Margaret Thatcher or a Golda Meir—liberated, yes indeed; libertine, not in the slightest. Indeed, she cites approvingly the example of a twenty-year-old Egyptian woman who posted a nude picture of herself on her blog, resulting in death threats and her flight to Sweden. To critics who complained that this woman was reinforcing those scandalous stories about sex in the tents in Tahrir Square, Eltahawy responds: “But it is the job of a revolution to shock, to provoke, and to upset, not to behave or to be polite.”And for Eltahawy that seems to be the main point. Her agenda is explicitly and unreflectively liberationist. As she asserts at one point: “The more freedom we have, the more choices available to people. The fewer freedoms we have, the faster hypocrisy will eat away at the heart of our society.” With regard to contemporary Egyptian society, she may have a point. But since she has spent considerable time in the United States, including being married to an American, one might expect an awareness that at some point the more choices that are available, the more confused and muddled we may become. Indeed, some have long understood this intuitively even before behavioral economics confirmed it for the rest of us.At various points Eltahawy declares that her goal is for women in Arab societies to be “free to live as autonomous citizens”, language strikingly reminiscent of the Supreme Court’s recent decision affirming the right to homosexual marriage. And as with that decision, what’s absent here is any notion of how such autonomy may be inconsistent with familial or societal responsibilities. And again, for a woman who has experienced contemporary life in the United States, one might expect at least some recognition by Eltahawy of our social and cultural confusion with regard to sex and gender, never mind alcohol and drugs. And for someone who expresses concern over the disparate choices available to Arab women from different social classes, Eltahawy displays no awareness of how the “autonomy” experienced by many American women, especially those without educational credentials or professional standing, has left them financially and emotionally burdened with raising children virtually alone.At this point, one might ask why this flawed book merits any attention. The answer is that privileged women from Arab and Muslim societies like Mona Eltahawy have an important role to play in influencing how our civilizations see and understand one another. The prominence of her article in a venue like Foreign Policy and the publication of her book by a house as distinguished as Farrar, Straus and Giroux both attest to this. But if educated, professional Arab women adopt a transgressive liberationist agenda that gives aging American feminists thrills reminiscent of their glory days, it won’t serve any of us well. They certainly will not have helped the Arab and Muslim world understand us—our shortcomings as well as our strengths. Nor will they have helped advance the status of the mass of ordinary women—not to mention liberal democracy—in their own societies.Air Strike Hits Hospital in Kunduz
As early as yesterday, Kabul was still trumpeting a big win over the Taliban, claiming that Afghan security forces had taken and were managing to hold most of Kunduz after retaking it with U.S. support. Some Taliban, mostly foreign fighters, were still holed up and fighting on in several civilian neighborhoods, but overall, government officials claimed, the situation was settling down.
But as of today, it’s clear the fighting is not quite yet over. In what what probably a tragic miscalculation in the heat of a firefight, it appears that an AC-130 gunship may have fired upon a hospital in Kunduz, killing 19 doctors and patients, and injuring 37. Reuters:“Thick black smoke could be seen rising from some of the rooms,” he said after a visit to the hospital. “The fighting is still going on, so we had to leave.” […]
Resident Khodaidad told Reuters the Taliban had been using the hospital buildings for cover during fighting on Friday.“I could hear sounds of heavy gunfire, explosions and airplanes throughout the night,” he said. “There were several huge explosions and it sounded like the roof was falling on me.”Earlier, a U.S. official, speaking on condition of anonymity, said a U.S. military AC-130 gunship had been operating in the area, firing at Taliban targets to provide what was essentially defensive, close-air support to ground forces.
Tragedy aside, so much for all of this week’s claims of Kunduz being pacified. It appears that while the Taliban have pulled back, they are still very much contesting the city.
Meanwhile, late last week, news was emerging that yet another province in the north east of the country, Warduj district in Badakhshan, had fallen to a Taliban onslaught. “Our forces did not get reinforcements on time,” a local commander complained, echoing the words of frustrated commanders who have been fighting (and losing ground) around Kunduz all summer. “Taliban were in big numbers, therefore our forces retreated.”Noted Afghanistan expert Ahmed Rashid said that the Taliban’s recent gains portend a “new stage of the war.” He predicted: “[Kunduz] will be divided…There will be continuous fighting within the city and around the city. The Taliban has spent more than a year consolidating their grip in northern Afghanistan, and I don’t think retaking Kunduz is going to drive the Taliban out of the large rural areas that they control.” It’s looking more and more that he might be right.Caillebotte, Patron Saint of the Outcasts
“Isn’t it our duty to support each other and to forgive each other’s weaknesses, rather than tear ourselves down?” Gustave Caillebotte wrote to his friend Camille Pissaro on the eve of the Impressionist’s sixth exhibition, and during one of the movement’s darkest moments. Months prior, the key leaders of the Impressionists, Claude Monet and Auguste Renoir, eschewed their own movement’s annual exhibition to display their artwork in the juried review of the Salon, the French Academy of Fine Arts’ official exhibition. The Impressionists, once united in their rejection of the Salon’s formal values (and rejection by the Salon), faced an identity crisis as their founders moved back into the fold of the established art world.
As a patron, painter, and member of the Impressionists, Caillebotte felt this rift acutely. After Renoir invited him to exhibit The Floor Scrapers with the Impressionists in 1876, he embraced the nascent movement, going so far as to fund, organize, and personally hang the artwork of the next exhibition (Renoir, to his credit, rolled up his sleeves and helped as well). During Impressionism’s formative years, Caillebotte played both the artist and the buyer, exhibiting alongside the Impressionists while purchasing their work at generous above-market prices.While often recognized as an important patron to the Impressionists, Caillebotte’s artistic contributions have largely been overlooked. Thanks to an exhibition hosted by the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC, Caillebotte’s canvases are getting a closer look, including his well-known Paris Street, Rainy Day, and The Floor Scrapers. The exhibit, which closes this weekend, is one of the first major retrospectives since the artist passed away in 1894.Museum-goers expecting to enjoy the matured, exquisite brushwork on display at the Musee d’Orsay might find the National Gallery’s exhibit to be a less-than-satisfying spread. But Caillebotte’s work provides an uncensored, rich and occasionally rough-around-the-edges view of an artist and art movement in its formative stages. It’s easy to forget that before Monet’s water lilies became museum shop fodder, his artwork was rejected, ridiculed, and sold for a song at hotel art auctions.As the only major annual exhibition in the city, the Salon held incredible sway in the Impressionists’ lifetime. Acceptance into the Salon’s annual exhibition provided artists with validation, an entrée into respected society, and unsurpassed exposure to potential buyers. As Renoir mentioned to his art dealer, “there are scarcely fifteen art-collectors in Paris capable of liking a painter without the backing of the Salon.” It is against these odds that Renoir and the other Impressionists would mount their first exhibition.For a single franc, a Parisian could gain admission to the Salon’s exhibition of the season’s best contemporary art. More than 23,000 visitors a day would walk the Salon’s hallways viewing gallery walls stacked to the ceiling with gilt canvases. As an artist, receiving a rejection from an institution as prestigious and ubiquitous as the Salon must have cut deep. Likewise, when a group of artists rebelled against the Salon and hosted their counter-exhibition, Paris took notice. Members of the establishment were scandalized that a collective of “revoltes” might take into their own hands the organizing of an exhibition; draft their own guidelines; establish their own jury; and worst of all, judge the artistic merit of others’ work. Emile Cardon, a critic at the time, wrote, “I know that many people feel great alarm at the advent of an age when artists [are] abandoned to their own devices.”The first exhibition was held in 1874 by the “Independents,” as the Impressionists first referred to themselves. The original exhibiting artists represent a pantheon of household names: Monet, Renoir, Camille Pissarro, Alfred Sisley, Edgar Degas, and Paul Cezanne. The exhibit, held in the rooms of a former photography studio, included 200 pieces laid out in linear rows on simple painted walls. Similar to a modern gallery, the style reflected a conscious rejection of the Salon’s cluttered walls.What was on display at the first exhibit? Monet’s impressions of sunlight dancing across water, and Pissarro’s tree shadows undulating across snowy fields. The engaging glance of a woman in her theatre box, and a young ballerina with a tutu whose brushwork melts into the wall behind her. The exhibit portrayed new perspectives, new subject matter, and a new middle class enjoying leisurely pursuits previously unknown to them. As Paris continued to recover from the political tumult and trauma of the Franco-Prussian War and French Commune just three years earlier, the exhibit embraced the modernizing city. It was a complete departure from the classic nudes and moralizing subject matter exalted by the Salon.The Impressionists’ First Exhibition was a critical and commercial failure. The profit from sold artwork amounted to less than sixty francs per artist, a sum not even sufficient to cover the dues of participants. Cezanne had to ask his father for money to cover his exhibition costs. While many critics noted the courage required to defy the Salon, the common sentiment was that its “artists fall into hopelessness, grotesque confusion…the excesses of this school sicken and disgust.” [Cardon] While the Salon’s exhibition hosted 23,000 visitors a day, the Impressionists were lucky to have 130 visitors pass through their studio.The following year, the Salon jury rejected Caillebotte’s submission, earning him an invitation from Renoir to join the Second Exhibition. The rejected work, The Floor Scrapers, was considered “vulgar” by the Salon’s judges. Its direct portrayal of shirtless, sinewed men stripping varnish off wooden floors violated the accepted rules of portraying the laboring class in art. The casual proximity of the men—in a private Parisian apartment, no less—veered dangerously from the bucolic portrayals of peasants and field workers favored by the French Academy.When The Floor Scrapers was ultimately exhibited in 1876, it was alongside Degas’ Rehearsal of the Ballet on the Stage, Portraits in an Office and Monet’s Japonnerie. Now regarded as one of Caillebotte’s greatest works, The Floor Scrapers can be seen in the National Gallery’s current exhibit, placed alongside a collection of the artist’s lesser-known interior paintings and parlor portraits.By inviting Caillebotte to exhibit with the Impressionists, Renoir extended a lifeline that went both ways. In the years leading up to the Second Exhibition, Caillebotte suffered profound loss with the deaths of his father, mother, and brother. Left without direction and having inherited a considerable fortune from his family’s business, the wealthy amateur painter threw himself into supporting the cause of the rejects.Caillebotte’s efforts with the Third Exhibition established him as the Patron Saint of “Les Revoltes.” Out of the eight exhibitions that occurred under the impressionist banner, the third is considered to have been the most influential, assembling some of the finest impressionist work that would define the movement. It is also the first exhibition where the group shed the title of the “Independents” and embraced the “Impressionists.” Caillebotte, who exhibited just two canvases the year prior, would be responsible for almost single-handedly organizing and financing the Third Exhibition. Displaying an incredible amount of vision and diplomacy for a 29 year old, he brought together works including Monet’s La Gare Saint-Lazare series, and Renoir’s Le Bal du Moulin de la Galette.Amidst his efforts to plan the Third Exhibition, Caillebotte found the time to paint his most famous work, Paris Street, Rainy Day, a monumental, nearly life-size canvas of sharply-dressed Parisians strolling down a glistening boulevard. The artwork abandons the impressionist style with its near realism and carefully lineated forms, but captures its spirit with the breathtaking effect of rain-soaked cobblestones and an opalescent evening sky that glows with a misting rain. Anyone who has spent a winter in Paris knows that a grey sky can contain many hues, and Paris Street, Rainy Day even won over Emile Zola, one of the Impressionists’ most consistent critics.Nearly 140 years after the Third Exhibition, the National Gallery displays Paris Street, Rainy Day at the back of the exhibit to clever effect, visible from the gallery’s entrance and through a column of doorways. The seven-foot tall canvas anchors the collection and lures visitors into the exhibit—a curatorial trick the imminently pragmatic Caillebotte would have appreciated.In the end, the Impressionist movement fell prey to its own successes. In the following exhibitions, the spiritual backbone of the collective, Monet and Renoir, were accepted into the Salon’s juried exhibition. The mutually exclusive nature of the Salon and Impressionist exhibitions meant that exhibiting through one prevented involvement in the other. Pisarro, the most committed Impressionist of the group and only one to exhibit in all eight shows, had these wry words on his friend: “Renoir is a great success on the Salon; I think he is ‘launched.’ All the better! It’s a very hard life, being poor.” The defection of the collective’s leaders led to disagreements on the guiding vision of the movement. The group would never regain the cohesion of the Third Exhibition and began splintering into solo shows organized by art dealer Paul Durand-Ruel.The eighth and final Impressionist exhibition took place in 1886, just 12 years after the first exhibition. Of the original gang, only Degas, Pissarro, and Berthe Morisot exhibited. Caillebotte, independently wealthy and insulated from the economic recession gripping France, moved to the suburbs and lost his taste for edgy urban landscape painting. His slick cobblestones and defined boulevards were replaced with placid landscapes as he attempted to master the loose brushwork pioneered by Monet. Not unlike the Impressionist group as a whole, Caillebotte’s later work is anemic, suffering from the lack of the exposure and artistic collaboration that made the early efforts so distinctive.The myth of solitary artistic genius is a hard one to shake, particularly with Jeopardy! category artists like Monet and Renoir. But figures like Caillebotte may hold the key to understanding the invisible levers that lead to the broader acceptance of Impressionism. Caillebotte’s incredible ascendance, from an unknown amateur to a major organizer begs further research. With the National Gallery’s exhibit, as well as the Philadelphia Museum of Art’s recent exhibit on art dealer Paul Durand-Ruel, the enigmatic figures behind Impressionism have just begun to receive their due. The greatest discoveries are yet to come.Putin, Obama, and the Middle East
The latest news from what used to be Syria is that Russian pilots have undertaken combat missions on behalf of the Assad regime—but not so much against ISIS. Some Syrian rebels who have been receiving U.S. aid via the CIA since 2013 appear to be among the targets—so claimed Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter, and he should know. Worse, despite U.S. efforts to deconflict the combat zone between U.S. and Russian aircraft, lest accidents happen, the Russians informed the U.S. Government of its initial actions in what Carter called a “drop by” at the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad just an hour before the strikes began. Carter noted that he expected more professional behavior from the Russian military, but that is exactly why his expectations were disappointed. As body language in diplomacy goes, this “drop by” constitutes a swagger—and a bullying insinuation about who has balls and who does not.
This follows a pattern. First, of recent vintage, General Lloyd J. Austin III, the top U.S. commander in the Middle East, testifying before the Senate Armed Services Committee on September 16, admitted that he and his Pentagon colleagues were “completely flummoxed” by the reasons behind Russian moves into Syria. I take the man at his word, but wonder whatever could have persuaded him that saying as much publicly was a good idea.Then, a few days later, when the Russians announced an intelligence-sharing arrangement with Iran and Iraq, aimed ostensibly against ISIS, the White House was next in line to be completely flummoxed, judging by the tongue-tied response of the White House spokesman when asked about the matter. I would be surprised if the entirety of the U.S. government was caught as flatfooted as the White House, but this is what happens when a President arranges his highly politicized foreign policy decision-making apparatus in a manner heavily overbalanced toward White House control.And then came the Putin and Obama speeches at the UN General Assembly confab just a few days ago. Putin was blunt and self-confident as he (mainly) lied. Obama’s was arguably the worst foreign policy speech of his presidency, despite his apparent inability to not tell the pallid truth. This led even former Democratic administration officials like David Rothkopf, the editor of Foreign Policy, to uncharacteristically savage the President:Obama, for his part, is still reportedly trying to figure out what the heck his next halfway measure should be in Syria—should he dial up more tweets from the NSC or perhaps give another speech about how bad the options are in that country? Certainly, his U.N. address on Monday did not offer any clear answers—about anything. (For those of you who missed it, here is a summary of Obama’s U.N. remarks: “Good morning. Cupcakes. Unicorns. Rainbows. Putin is mean. Thank you very much.”)
(Rothkopf offered that maybe he was “being unfair,” but obviously not so unfair in his own mind that he failed to post it.) In any event, the result of the Putin-Obama UNGA juxtaposition was that, when all was said rather than done, even U.S. allies like France and Italy volubly wished the Russians well in Syria.
All the recent diplomatic dancing needs to be put in context, however. The Russians are flexing their military muscle as well as their mouths. The U.S. effort against ISIS, meanwhile, has been about as feckless a use of military force as one can imagine, leaving Centcom officials to lie about the utility of it in what is one of the most serious breakdowns in American civil-military professionalism in memory. It has also remained, from the start, bereft of a coherent strategy, for U.S. policy refuses to acknowledge that the key proximate cause of ISIS is the brutality of the Assad regime’s campaign against the majority Sunni population of Syria. Attacking ISIS with aerial pinpricks while leaving the source of its political strength alone—whether to avoid interrupting the appeasement of Iran en route to the July 14 nuclear deal, or for some other reason—is akin to thinking that one can affect the position of a shadow by doing things to the shadow.There is more context, of course. The U.S. training mission in Iraq has proven a failure. No one is talking anymore about the Iraqis taking back Mosul (not that a Shi’a Army beholden to a Shi’s regime would be able to govern Mosul anyway), since they can’t even retake and hold Ramadi or Faluja. So has the mission to sustain the Afghan government, with the ANA incapable of holding or retaking Kunduz on its own. And even this wider context has a still-prior context that brings us straighaway back to Syria; for those in the region, the infamous August 2013 “non-strike” event for the Assad regime’s use of chemical weapons is that context. (And unlike the credulous American mainstream press, no serious person in the region ever believed that the subsequent Syrian regime declaration of its chemical stocks was truthful and complete—as it certainly was not.)One could go on: The Obama Administration’s record in convening and cajoling Israelis and Arabs toward peace is the worst of any American administration since June 1967, largely due to its own serial diplomatic malpractice—not that conditions for progress were otherwise propitious, true. Even worse, in decades past the U.S. government managed to maintain considerable if not paramount influence with both Israel and several key Arab states (Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Egypt after 1972, and others further from the Levantine action) despite their being at times nearly at war with each other, and one at least one occasion (October 1973) when they were actually at war with each other. Today, Israel and the Sunni Arab states have the best relations they have ever enjoyed, yet somehow the Obama Administration has managed to develop bad relations with all of them simultaneously. This takes a special talent.It is not surprising, therefore, that the most popular interpretation of Russian behavior includes a precondition: the abdication of U.S. leadership in the region, and the plummeting of its reputation for good judgment and the judicious use of power to the lowest point since the Truman Administration. Spinoza was right: Nature abhors a vacuum. The Obama Administration created one, whether deliberately or simply through serial bungling we will come to in a moment, and the Russians, with the Iranians, are filling it.But why? Need we be as “completely flummoxed” about the reasons as the erstwhile General Austin? No, we don’t.There are so many reasons for the Putin regime’s behavior regarding Syria that it may safely be said to be over-determined. That doesn’t mean that it is based on sound strategic thinking or that it will not come a cropper. It isn’t and it very likely will, in due course. But explaining it is not a strain.As I have indicated earlier, perhaps the best way to think about Russian aims is as three concentric circles nested within each other, sort of like matryoshka dolls. The inner, most defensive and least ambitious circle, is to prevent the defeat and collapse of the Assad regime. That regime is indeed imperiled, Syria is Russia’s only real ally, and Tartus is the only military base Russia has beyond its own territory. Beyond that, Russia opposes regime change—period. It does so because, as with the Libya case, it worries about a precedent leading all the way to Moscow. This makes Russian policy today about as reactionary as it was in 1848, when Czar Nicholas I considered sending the Russian army all the way to Paris to break down the revolutionists’ barricades there.The middle circle aims to put Russia in the catbird’s seat when it comes to the future of Syria, even if in due course it requires some kind of post-Assad and even post-Alawi arrangement. That position would give Russia influence not only over the future of Syria but, to the extent it can coordinate its interests with Iran, over the entire Levant and even beyond.And Russia wants a settlement to the Syrian civil war, as does Iran, because it imperils both their interests—they just want it to include Assad and the Alawis. Both Moscow and Tehran, as well as Ankara and Riyadh and Jerusalem and anyone with a brain, understand that the Assad regime’s monstrous brutality is what has fed ISIS—after U.S. policy errors, in first shattering Ba’athi Iraq without a Phase IV “plan B” and then leaving post-Ba’athi Iraq too soon, set the stage. ISIS poses a serious long-term problem for Iran; it could become the increasingly powerful nodal center of its eternal sectarian enemy. And it poses a problem for the integrity of the Russian Federation, whose hold over Ingushtia, Dagestan, and (still) Chechnya is none too solid. The Islamist radicalization of the anti-Russian ethnic nationalist movements in those regions would be disastrous for Moscow.What neither the Iranians and especially the Russians seem to be taking sufficiently into account is that a commitment to prop up the Assad regime can easily become costly, futile, and counterproductively dangerous, because it implies a likely burgeoning of ISIS that is, as noted, a threat to both. The Turks, at least, understand that ISIS cannot readily be defeated as long as Assad rules in Damascus. The Russians and the Iranians are instead putting themselves into a kind of zugswang, unable to move in any one direction without bringing serious harm on themselves from another. Every bomb the Russians eventually drop on ISIS is very likely to sire a dozen extremely angry young radicalized Muslims in the Caucasus. Hence it turns out that U.S. leaders have no monopoly on blundering.The third, most ambitious circle is speculative but logical—yet, as far as I am aware, no other Western commentator has mentioned it. Just as Putin’s stretch, third-circle goal in Ukraine is the destruction of NATO, in Syria it is the destruction of the European Union. Russia’s order of battle in Syria thus far, joined by thousands of Iranian troops, suggests not just a defensive posture but an offensive one as well. Barracks are being built and there are credible rumors that a ground campaign is in the works—one that, according to an indiscreet (or misinformed) Russian parliamentarian is to last three to four months. Even if this campaign works as probably designed—to savage and take Raqqa—it will deepen the violence and spur more refugee movement out of the country. The Russians have to know that and Moscow could very well be intending it, whether as a fringe “benefit” or as a primary aim is hard to say, but the practical distinction is nil as far as the Europeans are concerned.Very likely, however, things will not go as planned. They rarely do. The Russians grievously underestimated what a bunch of “primitive” Afghans could do to them, and they are probably swaggering their way into a mutual bloodbath in Syria—whether first with Jabhat al-Nusra, the Free Syrian Army (such as it is), or ISIS. Ash Carter is right to predict that “the Russian position is doomed to fail”, for its moving into a ground combat role is likely to temporarily unify the opposition, making it more effective. It may also stimulate a lot more help for that opposition from Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and the Emiratis. The proximate result of a Russian bloody nose, likely the product of by now very well-practiced Nusra and ISIS swarm tactics, will be to piss off the Russians and lead them to focus on killing lots of people in an effort at smash-down intimidation. Their intelligence in Syria is no better than ours, so that presages indiscriminate terror shelling and bombing, lots of collateral damage and—yes—lots and lots more refugees fleeing their homes. That will put intense immediate pressure on Jordan and Lebanon—which can ill-afford it—and on Turkey. But it will all come around to Europe, sooner rather than later.Is that it? No, there are three other Russian motives for their present Syrian policy. One is pecuniary, one is diplomatic in the broad sense, and one is, well, mystical. First things first.When the “intelligence-sharing” headline popped onto the front page of the New York Times the other day, I read the article waiting for it to get to a main point of all this—and the point never showed up. The Russians have weapons contracts with the Assad regime worth about $4 billion, and the contracts include Sukhoi fighters, attack helicopters, T-90 tanks, and other stuff now on or soon to be on display in the Syrian field. With the regime teetering on the skids, the Russians are naturally worried that they won’t get paid—because all of this stuff has been typically handed over on credit. They have reason to worry, and they remember that not that long ago they had to eat $8 billion in debts owed them by the Ba’athi regime in Iraq.Remember, too, that recently the Russians agreed to sell Iran the S-300 air defense system. This is expensive stuff. But more important, the Iranian conventional order of battle is mostly rusted and unusable. With more than $100 billion in unfrozen sanctions cash soon coming their way, they will be in the market for major arms purchases. The Iranians are very likely to pursue a Russian order-of-battle pretty much wall to wall, with embellishments here and there in Chinese and maybe in French.And then there is Iraq. Iraq used to sport a Russian-made order-of-battle, too. Why not again, since that would be the advice from Tehran, if only for the sake of interoperability, and the Shi’a in Baghdad may be said to have fallen back out of love with all things American?In short, part of what we’re seeing is a kind of commercial air show, with a ground addenda. And why does this probably figure high in Russian motives? Because the price of oil has tanked (no pun intended), Western sanctions over Ukraine bite hard even at their current “lite” level, and the failure to reform the Russian economy has resulted in galloping deindustrialization and a negative net productivity index. Pretty much the only thing the Russians have to sell these days, apart from timber and ore and cheap energy, is weapons. And like other major weapons producers, they need export markets to make their own domestic purchases economically viable—and they are certainly planning to buy plenty for their own use these days.So much for the pecuniary, now for the diplomatic: Ukraine. The Russians have achieved their minimal aims in Ukraine, and reaching for more probably seems to Vladimir Putin to be too hard or too dangerous—for the moment. They have achieved another anti-contagion rubble heap (a.k.a. “frozen conflict”) designed to keep Ukraine from making real or rapid progress toward joining Western institutions, and hence keeping notions about democracy and human rights that much further from Moscow. Signs now point to a slowdown in the pace of combat in eastern Ukraine, and some naïfs think this presages a diplomatic solution. Not likely; the Russians are simply consolidating their political gains, building up for the next phase, and watching as all others’ eyes turn to the Levant.This diplomatic ploy appears to be working very well so far. When you get French and Italian diplomats publicly wishing you well at UNGA viz Syria, after all, it can only be on account of a segmented form of amnesia—which tells everyone who can read the signs just how much those governments (and others in Europe) actually give a damn about what happens in Ukraine (and not just Ukraine among those of an eastern persuasion).Without its logic, reason, and utilitarian motives, international diplomacy would be like a play without a plot. But without its ever-present psychodrama, it would be like a plot without a soul—and hence make for very bad and strange theater. Putin revels in humiliating, surprising, and wrong-footing the Obama Administration for its own sake. He embodies the ego-seared personality of the fallen Soviet Union, and for him superior gamesmanship is a mark of leadership that pays off in practical dividends among the current Russian elite and, for that matter, the Russian public at large, too.No one in Russia, Putin not excluded, thinks strategically these days. There is too much ambient panic to allow it, so that all “interests”, whether financial or otherwise, are driven down to the short term. But Putin is a consummate tactician, able to push a weak hand to its limits. For all one knows, he’s aware of the “maximalism” thesis of my friend and colleague Stephen Sestanovich, who argues that among naturally risk-averse folk in a naturally dicey environment, tremendous advantage accrues to leaders who know what they want.If that’s so, Putin has yet another advantage vis-à-vis the American administration: He is an autocrat and President Obama is not. Democratic leaders become maximalists only when circumstances force it upon them, and in such circumstances the nature of democratic politics sums to a longer-term advantage. But in normal times, as Robert S. Vansittart, probably the most brilliant self-avowed “failure” of the 20th century put it curtly in The Mist Procession (1958), “democracy often changes its mind because it seldom knows it.” That cedes advantage to autocrats of all sorts who do know their own minds, especially in circumstances where strategic propinquity vaults the importance of interests over power as opposed to the importance of power over interests. And so we come now to the flummoxed, wrong-footed, half-measuring—and also clueless?—Americans.I am reminded of a comment, offered in private conclave but preserved in the archives, by a French diplomat to his British counterpart in 1920 or 1921 in the context of negotiations over establishing the mandatory borders between Syria and Palestine. The British at that time were hand-in-hand with the Zionist movement in wanting to gain the most beneficial hydrological borders for Palestine, and the French, seeing this company, were either wise or cynical enough not to want to get too deeply involved in the whole business. Said the Frenchman, and I am translating from memory, “Look, if you want to blunder into the mud bog”—the verb used, I think, was embourber—“you can do it without us.”How would one translate embourber into Russian? Because, very possibly, that is what the Russians are about to do in Syria, and the U.S. attitude, long now on offer, is “you can do it without us.” We once rushed to the aid of an embattled ally, somewhat in desperation to prevent collapse. We were mighty and the enemy was weak and highly provincial; we had the big guns and the money and they had not. We could polish off the problem quickly and send a bracing message in its wake to a host of lesser-endowed would-be troublemakers—and look where it got us. Certainly the seminal event of Barack Obama’s education in the rough-and-tumble of international politics was the Vietnam War, and if he does not see the suggestive parallels between what Lyndon Johnson did then and what Vladimir Putin is doing now, no one does.So let us get right to the essence: Does the President, and his Administration following him, know what he is doing—strategically speaking, whether in Syria or anywhere else—or not? If one judges by the official annual strategy documents mandated by the Congress, if one talks to refugees from the NSC, and if one matches up visible behavior against past models, the answer is “not really.” As I have argued before, the most likely reality that outsiders are trying to penetrate is one consisting of several impulses or biases in the President’s mind, festooned with some academic notions brought to his attention by advisers and other communicants, but that are not tightly tethered to a means-and-ends schema one could legitimately call a strategy. Over time, of course, the President’s fidelity to his own gut instincts sum post hoc to certain patterns that produce a cumulative outcome that is far from random. And the reappearance of certain issues over and over again tend to reify such patterns, at least selectively. So we see strong policy lines on issues where there have been lots of PC meetings over the past seven years—Iran, say—but only faint lines where PC meetings have been few and far between—India/Pakistan/Kashmir, say.The result of this asymmetry is to confuse academics, and other anal retentive types who have not served in government, as they go searching for the right-angled mental precisions they know to be present but in hiding. The result has been a kind of Rashomon-like disagreement—with apologies to Akira Kurosawa—about what “school” the Obama Administration represents. So if you focus on the President’s highly risk-averse policy in Syria and the rest of the Middle East, he looks like a cold-blooded realist, whether for good or for ill we’ll come to in a moment. If you focus instead on the zero-nukes aspiration, he looks like a wild-eyed idealist. If you mark the investments made in the United Nations and the deference given to not getting out of step with our European allies over Ukraine, say, he looks like a standard-issue liberal internationalist. And if you reckon the take-no-prisoners approach to multiplying the number of drone strikes in Yemen, Waziristan, and elsewhere—along with his reticence to really claw back NSA programs or close Guantanamo—he’s a national-interest selective-engagement hawk.Inconsistency and double standards, so much anathema to certain kinds of excessively well-ordered minds, are not necessarily liabilities in real life. That is because the world, too—or at least the human social aspects of it we care most about—gives off a distinctive aura of the inconsistent and the multi-measured. So it matters what gut instincts and predilections lie behind the chaos to insinuate into policy whatever order it comes to have. Even short of an actual strategy, then, what are Barack Obama’s gut instincts, and how have they applied to Syria?If we were to put the most formal face on an answer to this question, it would go like this: Obama is sold on offshore balancing. He thinks the United States is overinvested in the Middle East—a term he and several advisers have used—and underinvested in Asia. He thinks that if the United States stops acting like a control freak with a Cold War hangover, and just gets out of the way in several parts of the world, we’ll end up with a foreign policy that is less dangerous (no chain-ganging via obsolete alliances into wars in which we have no vital interests), less expensive (no need for that vast foreign basing footprint or hugely expensive defense budget), and less a distraction from vital needs for reform here at home. He thinks that other countries take us for an adversary because we support their adversaries, so if we distance ourselves from traditional friends and allies, then we’ll be able to engage them productively. The President has let slip for example—in reference to being reminded by Jeffrey Goldberg about Saudi discomforts in this case—that “change can be difficult” for those grown used to open-ended American protection.The result overall has been a severe ratcheting down of what constitutes a threat to U.S. vital interests. Threats of mass-casualty terrorism, particularly if joined to weapons-of-mass destruction proliferation, constitute a category of vital interest like no other in this President’s view. Managing the rise of China is a structural concern, also deserving of concerted attention. But Ukraine, Syria, Egypt, Eurozone distempers and all the other headline soaks that pop into view from time to time are no longer vital interests, and only by “leading from behind” or not leading at all will responsible governments come to own up to their own security obligations. This is, in other words, a whole new way of thinking about burden sharing. Yes, the interregnum can be messy—it is messy, for revisionist powers are trying to fill the vacuum. But Germany, Poland, Sweden, Finland, Japan, India, Nigeria perhaps, and several other states are slowly but surely passing the test of stepping up to the plate, so what we need is patience and a little bit of luck.Most commentators savvy to this picture have not been persuaded by it. Most think that this is a hopelessly ahistorical and naïve way of thinking about strategy. This gets, too, to a perennial argument of international relations theory: What’s safer: a hegemonic security system, a bipolar one, or a multipolar one? And, as usual, such arguments never reach persuasive conclusions, because they can’t in a non-right-angled, changing world. Listen again to David Rothkopf, specifically on the Middle Eastern dimension to this non-theoretical critique:While self-described “realists” may hail the restraint and President Eeyore’s unrivaled mastery of focusing on the downside to any possible U.S. action, and while the president’s defenders will no doubt also revert to the always legitimate argument that the disastrous invasion of Iraq played a big role in getting us to where we are today, they neglect a critical fact. What’s done is done. We are where we are. Let’s stipulate that Iraq was a disaster. Let’s stipulate that the Arab Spring was largely a self-inflicted wound on the part of regimes that neglected their obligations to their people and to modernity. Let’s stipulate that we had no good options in Syria.
When an American president is left with a lousy situation and no good options, then there is still the necessity of figuring out how to best advance U.S. interests going forward. (The specter of foreign fighters, the stream of refugees into Europe, and the strategic consequences of long-term control of the Middle East all underscore that we actually do have long-term interests and the “it’s not our problem argument” is just naive and shortsighted.) “It’s too hard” and “I don’t want to play” are not acceptable answers because what they produce is precisely what we have gotten: adversaries seizing the initiative and setting in motion a potential permanent redistribution of power and influence in a strategically important region of the world.
I have been and remain largely sympathetic to Rothkopf’s plaint, as anyone familiar with my writing over the past decade or so will know. I do think the Administration has been naïve about how easy “engagement” would turn out to be, about the power of speeches to substitute for reality, and more besides. The Administration has, for example, woefully misread the nature of the security problem in the Middle East: It’s not ISIS, it’s Iran that’s the bigger threat to regional stability, and the Administration has played right into that sand trap thinking somehow that it was the 18th green. In that way it’s made the biggest potential problem in the region—a multivalent nuclear arms race, with all it implies for the security of innocent millions—more rather than less likely.
Still, the more history and memoir I read the more I incline to a longer view, and in that longer view I find islands of sympathy for President Obama’s (presumed) gut instincts. We are overinvested in the Middle East, and Syria was and remains a very hard problem. I have argued that we get the Fifth Fleet out of Bahrain, reposition Al-Udeid airbase out of Qatar, stop being gratuitously responsible for the security of undemocratic regimes whose futures are not of vital importance to us, and, above all, stop imagining that the better we get to know Middle Easterners the more we’ll like one another.So when I try to stand back a bit and ask what, really, do these mistakes matter, I mostly (the botching of the regional proliferation portfolio being the biggest exception) come up with far less-than-cataclysmic answers. Let’s face it: Most Americans who are attentive to these kinds of subjects have developed deep habits of the heart over the years when it comes to global leadership. We’ve gotten used to being the biggest and simultaneously the most benign guy on the block. We’re used to our order- and common security goods-provider role. We like it and, with some good reasons, we suppose that most other well-intentioned people on the planet like it, too. It won the Cold War, foiled the bad guys far and wide, and has helped make the world more prosperous. It’s good domestic politics, too, because it makes us feel better when things get screwed up at home—as they surely are. And for many it is part and parcel of a faith-based, if long-since-secularized, dogma of American identity—and so is fairly well insulated from introspection, let alone denial.But none of that makes it the only or the best game in town going forward. A good deal of the criticism of the Administration’s (presumed) approach stems from an aversion to change, from a reluctance to do a zero-based reassessment of the U.S. role in the world now a whole quarter century after the Cold War has been laid in its grave.The Russians, of course, have their own post-Soviet identity problem. Putin is trying to solve it by using bluster and aggression to boost a sagging national self-confidence; by acting like a superpower even when lacking super power, he is engaged in a manipulative fantasy bound to end in tragedy, very likely in Syria and probably elsewhere as well. We look at this from the vantage point of North America and we see it clearly. But we don’t look so closely at ourselves, or often ask how the perduring psychodrama of politics influences our own sense of identity and how that sense of identity manifests itself in U.S. foreign policy behavior.Maybe it’s best that we don’t ask too much or too often—too much naked honesty can be paralytic. Perhaps it has paralyzed the President a bit too much for our own good. But perhaps it’s also a bit too soon to judge with confidence the Obama Administration’s record in the Middle East, or in the world at large. Maybe the President is not so clueless after all. If the world of politics is a world amply decorated with irony, as we know it to be, why should this President’s foreign policy necessarily prove to be an exception?Putin, Obama and the Middle East
The latest news from what used to be Syria is that Russian pilots have undertaken combat missions on behalf of the Assad regime—but not so much against ISIS. Some Syrian rebels who have been receiving U.S. aid via the CIA since 2013 appear to be among the targets—so claimed Secretary of Defense Ashton Carter, and he should know. Worse, despite U.S. efforts to deconflict the combat zone between U.S. and Russian aircraft, lest accidents happen, the Russians informed the U.S. Government of its initial actions in what Carter called a “drop by” at the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad just an hour before the strikes began. Carter noted that he expected more professional behavior from the Russian military, but that is exactly why his expectations were disappointed. As body language in diplomacy goes, this “drop by” constitutes a swagger—and a bullying insinuation about who has balls and who does not.
This follows a pattern. First, of recent vintage, General Lloyd J. Austin III, the top U.S. commander in the Middle East, testifying before the Senate Armed Services Committee on September 16, admitted that he and his Pentagon colleagues were “completely flummoxed” by the reasons behind Russian moves into Syria. I take the man at his word, but wonder whatever could have persuaded him that saying as much publicly was a good idea.Then, a few days later, when the Russians announced an intelligence-sharing arrangement with Iran and Iraq, aimed ostensibly against ISIS, the White House was next in line to be completely flummoxed, judging by the tongue-tied response of the White House spokesman when asked about the matter. I would be surprised if the entirety of the U.S. government was caught as flatfooted as the White House, but this is what happens when a President arranges his highly politicized foreign policy decision-making apparatus in a manner heavily overbalanced toward White House control.And then came the Putin and Obama speeches at the UN General Assembly confab just a few days ago. Putin was blunt and self-confident as he (mainly) lied. Obama’s was arguably the worst foreign policy speech of his presidency, despite his apparent inability to not tell the pallid truth. This led even former Democratic administration officials like David Rothkopf, the editor of Foreign Policy, to uncharacteristically savage the President:Obama, for his part, is still reportedly trying to figure out what the heck his next halfway measure should be in Syria—should he dial up more tweets from the NSC or perhaps give another speech about how bad the options are in that country? Certainly, his U.N. address on Monday did not offer any clear answers—about anything. (For those of you who missed it, here is a summary of Obama’s U.N. remarks: “Good morning. Cupcakes. Unicorns. Rainbows. Putin is mean. Thank you very much.”)
(Rothkopf offered that maybe he was “being unfair,” but obviously not so unfair in his own mind that he failed to post it.) In any event, the result of the Putin-Obama UNGA juxtaposition was that, when all was said rather than done, even U.S. allies like France and Italy volubly wished the Russians well in Syria.
All the recent diplomatic dancing needs to be put in context, however. The Russians are flexing their military muscle as well as their mouths. The U.S. effort against ISIS, meanwhile, has been about as feckless a use of military force as one can imagine, leaving Centcom officials to lie about the utility of it in what is one of the most serious breakdowns in American civil-military professionalism in memory. It has also remained, from the start, bereft of a coherent strategy, for U.S. policy refuses to acknowledge that the key proximate cause of ISIS is the brutality of the Assad regime’s campaign against the majority Sunni population of Syria. Attacking ISIS with aerial pinpricks while leaving the source of its political strength alone—whether to avoid interrupting the appeasement of Iran en route to the July 14 nuclear deal, or for some other reason—is akin to thinking that one can affect the position of a shadow by doing things to the shadow.There is more context, of course. The U.S. training mission in Iraq has proven a failure. No one is talking anymore about the Iraqis taking back Mosul (not that a Shi’a Army beholden to a Shi’s regime would be able to govern Mosul anyway), since they can’t even retake and hold Ramadi or Faluja. So has the mission to sustain the Afghan government, with the ANA incapable of holding or retaking Kunduz on its own. And even this wider context has a still-prior context that brings us straighaway back to Syria; for those in the region, the infamous August 2013 “non-strike” event for the Assad regime’s use of chemical weapons is that context. (And unlike the credulous American mainstream press, no serious person in the region ever believed that the subsequent Syrian regime declaration of its chemical stocks was truthful and complete—as it certainly was not.)One could go on: The Obama Administration’s record in convening and cajoling Israelis and Arabs toward peace is the worst of any American administration since June 1967, largely due to its own serial diplomatic malpractice—not that conditions for progress were otherwise propitious, true. Even worse, in decades past the U.S. government managed to maintain considerable if not paramount influence with both Israel and several key Arab states (Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Egypt after 1972, and others further from the Levantine action) despite their being at times nearly at war with each other, and one at least one occasion (October 1973) when they were actually at war with each other. Today, Israel and the Sunni Arab states have the best relations they have ever enjoyed, yet somehow the Obama Administration has managed to develop bad relations with all of them simultaneously. This takes a special talent.It is not surprising, therefore, that the most popular interpretation of Russian behavior includes a precondition: the abdication of U.S. leadership in the region, and the plummeting of its reputation for good judgment and the judicious use of power to the lowest point since the Truman Administration. Spinoza was right: Nature abhors a vacuum. The Obama Administration created one, whether deliberately or simply through serial bungling we will come to in a moment, and the Russians, with the Iranians, are filling it.But why? Need we be as “completely flummoxed” about the reasons as the erstwhile General Austin? No, we don’t.There are so many reasons for the Putin regime’s behavior regarding Syria that it may safely be said to be over-determined. That doesn’t mean that it is based on sound strategic thinking or that it will not come a cropper. It isn’t and it very likely will, in due course. But explaining it is not a strain.As I have indicated earlier, perhaps the best way to think about Russian aims is as three concentric circles nested within each other, sort of like matryoshka dolls. The inner, most defensive and least ambitious circle, is to prevent the defeat and collapse of the Assad regime. That regime is indeed imperiled, Syria is Russia’s only real ally, and Tartus is the only military base Russia has beyond its own territory. Beyond that, Russia opposes regime change—period. It does so because, as with the Libya case, it worries about a precedent leading all the way to Moscow. This makes Russian policy today about as reactionary as it was in 1848, when Czar Nicholas I considered sending the Russian army all the way to Paris to break down the revolutionists’ barricades there.The middle circle aims to put Russia in the catbird’s seat when it comes to the future of Syria, even if in due course it requires some kind of post-Assad and even post-Alawi arrangement. That position would give Russia influence not only over the future of Syria but, to the extent it can coordinate its interests with Iran, over the entire Levant and even beyond.And Russia wants a settlement to the Syrian civil war, as does Iran, because it imperils both their interests—they just want it to include Assad and the Alawis. Both Moscow and Tehran, as well as Ankara and Riyadh and Jerusalem and anyone with a brain, understand that the Assad regime’s monstrous brutality is what has fed ISIS—after U.S. policy errors, in first shattering Ba’athi Iraq without a Phase IV “plan B” and then leaving post-Ba’athi Iraq too soon, set the stage. ISIS poses a serious long-term problem for Iran; it could become the increasingly powerful nodal center of its eternal sectarian enemy. And it poses a problem for the integrity of the Russian Federation, whose hold over Ingushtia, Dagestan, and (still) Chechnya is none too solid. The Islamist radicalization of the anti-Russian ethnic nationalist movements in those regions would be disastrous for Moscow.What neither the Iranians and especially the Russians seem to be taking sufficiently into account is that a commitment to prop up the Assad regime can easily become costly, futile, and counterproductively dangerous, because it implies a likely burgeoning of ISIS that is, as noted, a threat to both. The Turks, at least, understand that ISIS cannot readily be defeated as long as Assad rules in Damascus. The Russians and the Iranians are instead putting themselves into a kind of zugswang, unable to move in any one direction without bringing serious harm on themselves from another. Every bomb the Russians eventually drop on ISIS is very likely to sire a dozen extremely angry young radicalized Muslims in the Caucasus. Hence it turns out that U.S. leaders have no monopoly on blundering.The third, most ambitious circle is speculative but logical—yet, as far as I am aware, no other Western commentator has mentioned it. Just as Putin’s stretch, third-circle goal in Ukraine is the destruction of NATO, in Syria it is the destruction of the European Union. Russia’s order of battle in Syria thus far, joined by thousands of Iranian troops, suggests not just a defensive posture but an offensive one as well. Barracks are being built and there are credible rumors that a ground campaign is in the works—one that, according to an indiscreet (or misinformed) Russian parliamentarian is to last three to four months. Even if this campaign works as probably designed—to savage and take Raqqa—it will deepen the violence and spur more refugee movement out of the country. The Russians have to know that and Moscow could very well be intending it, whether as a fringe “benefit” or as a primary aim is hard to say, but the practical distinction is nil as far as the Europeans are concerned.Very likely, however, things will not go as planned. They rarely do. The Russians grievously underestimated what a bunch of “primitive” Afghans could do to them, and they are probably swaggering their way into a mutual bloodbath in Syria—whether first with Jabhat al-Nusra, the Free Syrian Army (such as it is), or ISIS. Ash Carter is right to predict that “the Russian position is doomed to fail”, for its moving into a ground combat role is likely to temporarily unify the opposition, making it more effective. It may also stimulate a lot more help for that opposition from Turkey, Saudi Arabia, Qatar, and the Emiratis. The proximate result of a Russian bloody nose, likely the product of by now very well-practiced Nusra and ISIS swarm tactics, will be to piss off the Russians and lead them to focus on killing lots of people in an effort at smash-down intimidation. Their intelligence in Syria is no better than ours, so that presages indiscriminate terror shelling and bombing, lots of collateral damage and—yes—lots and lots more refugees fleeing their homes. That will put intense immediate pressure on Jordan and Lebanon—which can ill-afford it—and on Turkey. But it will all come around to Europe, sooner rather than later.Is that it? No, there are three other Russian motives for their present Syrian policy. One is pecuniary, one is diplomatic in the broad sense, and one is, well, mystical. First things first.When the “intelligence-sharing” headline popped onto the front page of the New York Times the other day, I read the article waiting for it to get to a main point of all this—and the point never showed up. The Russians have weapons contracts with the Assad regime worth about $4 billion, and the contracts include Sukhoi fighters, attack helicopters, T-90 tanks, and other stuff now on or soon to be on display in the Syrian field. With the regime teetering on the skids, the Russians are naturally worried that they won’t get paid—because all of this stuff has been typically handed over on credit. They have reason to worry, and they remember that not that long ago they had to eat $8 billion in debts owed them by the Ba’athi regime in Iraq.Remember, too, that recently the Russians agreed to sell Iran the S-300 air defense system. This is expensive stuff. But more important, the Iranian conventional order of battle is mostly rusted and unusable. With more than $100 billion in unfrozen sanctions cash soon coming their way, they will be in the market for major arms purchases. The Iranians are very likely to pursue a Russian order-of-battle pretty much wall to wall, with embellishments here and there in Chinese and maybe in French.And then there is Iraq. Iraq used to sport a Russian-made order-of-battle, too. Why not again, since that would be the advice from Tehran, if only for the sake of interoperability, and the Shi’a in Baghdad may be said to have fallen back out of love with all things American?In short, part of what we’re seeing is a kind of commercial air show, with a ground addenda. And why does this probably figure high in Russian motives? Because the price of oil has tanked (no pun intended), Western sanctions over Ukraine bite hard even at their current “lite” level, and the failure to reform the Russian economy has resulted in galloping deindustrialization and a negative net productivity index. Pretty much the only thing the Russians have to sell these days, apart from timber and ore and cheap energy, is weapons. And like other major weapons producers, they need export markets to make their own domestic purchases economically viable—and they are certainly planning to buy plenty for their own use these days.So much for the pecuniary, now for the diplomatic: Ukraine. The Russians have achieved their minimal aims in Ukraine, and reaching for more probably seems to Vladimir Putin to be too hard or too dangerous—for the moment. They have achieved another anti-contagion rubble heap (a.k.a. “frozen conflict”) designed to keep Ukraine from making real or rapid progress toward joining Western institutions, and hence keeping notions about democracy and human rights that much further from Moscow. Signs now point to a slowdown in the pace of combat in eastern Ukraine, and some naïfs think this presages a diplomatic solution. Not likely; the Russians are simply consolidating their political gains, building up for the next phase, and watching as all others’ eyes turn to the Levant.This diplomatic ploy appears to be working very well so far. When you get French and Italian diplomats publicly wishing you well at UNGA viz Syria, after all, it can only be on account of a segmented form of amnesia—which tells everyone who can read the signs just how much those governments (and others in Europe) actually give a damn about what happens in Ukraine (and not just Ukraine among those of an eastern persuasion).Without its logic, reason, and utilitarian motives, international diplomacy would be like a play without a plot. But without its ever-present psychodrama, it would be like a plot without a soul—and hence make for very bad and strange theater. Putin revels in humiliating, surprising, and wrong-footing the Obama Administration for its own sake. He embodies the ego-seared personality of the fallen Soviet Union, and for him superior gamesmanship is a mark of leadership that pays off in practical dividends among the current Russian elite and, for that matter, the Russian public at large, too.No one in Russia, Putin not excluded, thinks strategically these days. There is too much ambient panic to allow it, so that all “interests”, whether financial or otherwise, are driven down to the short term. But Putin is a consummate tactician, able to push a weak hand to its limits. For all one knows, he’s aware of the “maximalism” thesis of my friend and colleague Stephen Sestanovich, who argues that among naturally risk-averse folk in a naturally dicey environment, tremendous advantage accrues to leaders who know what they want.If that’s so, Putin has yet another advantage vis-à-vis the American administration: He is an autocrat and President Obama is not. Democratic leaders become maximalists only when circumstances force it upon them, and in such circumstances the nature of democratic politics sums to a longer-term advantage. But in normal times, as Robert S. Vansittart, probably the most brilliant self-avowed “failure” of the 20th century put it curtly in The Mist Procession (1958), “democracy often changes its mind because it seldom knows it.” That cedes advantage to autocrats of all sorts who do know their own minds, especially in circumstances where strategic propinquity vaults the importance of interests over power as opposed to the importance of power over interests. And so we come now to the flummoxed, wrong-footed, half-measuring—and also clueless?—Americans.I am reminded of a comment, offered in private conclave but preserved in the archives, by a French diplomat to his British counterpart in 1920 or 1921 in the context of negotiations over establishing the mandatory borders between Syria and Palestine. The British at that time were hand-in-hand with the Zionist movement in wanting to gain the most beneficial hydrological borders for Palestine, and the French, seeing this company, were either wise or cynical enough not to want to get too deeply involved in the whole business. Said the Frenchman, and I am translating from memory, “Look, if you want to blunder into the mud bog”—the verb used, I think, was embourber—“you can do it without us.”How would one translate embourber into Russian? Because, very possibly, that is what the Russians are about to do in Syria, and the U.S. attitude, long now on offer, is “you can do it without us.” We once rushed to the aid of an embattled ally, somewhat in desperation to prevent collapse. We were mighty and the enemy was weak and highly provincial; we had the big guns and the money and they had not. We could polish off the problem quickly and send a bracing message in its wake to a host of lesser-endowed would-be troublemakers—and look where it got us. Certainly the seminal event of Barack Obama’s education in the rough-and-tumble of international politics was the Vietnam War, and if he does not see the suggestive parallels between what Lyndon Johnson did then and what Vladimir Putin is doing now, no one does.So let us get right to the essence: Does the President, and his Administration following him, know what he is doing—strategically speaking, whether in Syria or anywhere else—or not? If one judges by the official annual strategy documents mandated by the Congress, if one talks to refugees from the NSC, and if one matches up visible behavior against past models, the answer is “not really.” As I have argued before, the most likely reality that outsiders are trying to penetrate is one consisting of several impulses or biases in the President’s mind, festooned with some academic notions brought to his attention by advisers and other communicants, but that are not tightly tethered to a means-and-ends schema one could legitimately call a strategy. Over time, of course, the President’s fidelity to his own gut instincts sum post hoc to certain patterns that produce a cumulative outcome that is far from random. And the reappearance of certain issues over and over again tend to reify such patterns, at least selectively. So we see strong policy lines on issues where there have been lots of PC meetings over the past seven years—Iran, say—but only faint lines where PC meetings have been few and far between—India/Pakistan/Kashmir, say.The result of this asymmetry is to confuse academics, and other anal retentive types who have not served in government, as they go searching for the right-angled mental precisions they know to be present but in hiding. The result has been a kind of Rashomon-like disagreement—with apologies to Akira Kurosawa—about what “school” the Obama Administration represents. So if you focus on the President’s highly risk-averse policy in Syria and the rest of the Middle East, he looks like a cold-blooded realist, whether for good or for ill we’ll come to in a moment. If you focus instead on the zero-nukes aspiration, he looks like a wild-eyed idealist. If you mark the investments made in the United Nations and the deference given to not getting out of step with our European allies over Ukraine, say, he looks like a standard-issue liberal internationalist. And if you reckon the take-no-prisoners approach to multiplying the number of drone strikes in Yemen, Waziristan, and elsewhere—along with his reticence to really claw back NSA programs or close Guantanamo—he’s a national-interest selective-engagement hawk.Inconsistency and double standards, so much anathema to certain kinds of excessively well-ordered minds, are not necessarily liabilities in real life. That is because the world, too—or at least the human social aspects of it we care most about—gives off a distinctive aura of the inconsistent and the multi-measured. So it matters what gut instincts and predilections lie behind the chaos to insinuate into policy whatever order it comes to have. Even short of an actual strategy, then, what are Barack Obama’s gut instincts, and how have they applied to Syria?If we were to put the most formal face on an answer to this question, it would go like this: Obama is sold on offshore balancing. He thinks the United States is overinvested in the Middle East—a term he and several advisers have used—and underinvested in Asia. He thinks that if the United States stops acting like a control freak with a Cold War hangover, and just gets out of the way in several parts of the world, we’ll end up with a foreign policy that is less dangerous (no chain-ganging via obsolete alliances into wars in which we have no vital interests), less expensive (no need for that vast foreign basing footprint or hugely expensive defense budget), and less a distraction from vital needs for reform here at home. He thinks that other countries take us for an adversary because we support their adversaries, so if we distance ourselves from traditional friends and allies, then we’ll be able to engage them productively. The President has let slip for example—in reference to being reminded by Jeffrey Goldberg about Saudi discomforts in this case—that “change can be difficult” for those grown used to open-ended American protection.The result overall has been a severe ratcheting down of what constitutes a threat to U.S. vital interests. Threats of mass-casualty terrorism, particularly if joined to weapons-of-mass destruction proliferation, constitute a category of vital interest like no other in this President’s view. Managing the rise of China is a structural concern, also deserving of concerted attention. But Ukraine, Syria, Egypt, Eurozone distempers and all the other headline soaks that pop into view from time to time are no longer vital interests, and only by “leading from behind” or not leading at all will responsible governments come to own up to their own security obligations. This is, in other words, a whole new way of thinking about burden sharing. Yes, the interregnum can be messy—it is messy, for revisionist powers are trying to fill the vacuum. But Germany, Poland, Sweden, Finland, Japan, India, Nigeria perhaps, and several other states are slowly but surely passing the test of stepping up to the plate, so what we need is patience and a little bit of luck.Most commentators savvy to this picture have not been persuaded by it. Most think that this is a hopelessly ahistorical and naïve way of thinking about strategy. This gets, too, to a perennial argument of international relations theory: What’s safer: a hegemonic security system, a bipolar one, or a multipolar one? And, as usual, such arguments never reach persuasive conclusions, because they can’t in a non-right-angled, changing world. Listen again to David Rothkopf, specifically on the Middle Eastern dimension to this non-theoretical critique:While self-described “realists” may hail the restraint and President Eeyore’s unrivaled mastery of focusing on the downside to any possible U.S. action, and while the president’s defenders will no doubt also revert to the always legitimate argument that the disastrous invasion of Iraq played a big role in getting us to where we are today, they neglect a critical fact. What’s done is done. We are where we are. Let’s stipulate that Iraq was a disaster. Let’s stipulate that the Arab Spring was largely a self-inflicted wound on the part of regimes that neglected their obligations to their people and to modernity. Let’s stipulate that we had no good options in Syria.
When an American president is left with a lousy situation and no good options, then there is still the necessity of figuring out how to best advance U.S. interests going forward. (The specter of foreign fighters, the stream of refugees into Europe, and the strategic consequences of long-term control of the Middle East all underscore that we actually do have long-term interests and the “it’s not our problem argument” is just naive and shortsighted.) “It’s too hard” and “I don’t want to play” are not acceptable answers because what they produce is precisely what we have gotten: adversaries seizing the initiative and setting in motion a potential permanent redistribution of power and influence in a strategically important region of the world.
I have been and remain largely sympathetic to Rothkopf’s plaint, as anyone familiar with my writing over the past decade or so will know. I do think the Administration has been naïve about how easy “engagement” would turn out to be, about the power of speeches to substitute for reality, and more besides. The Administration has, for example, woefully misread the nature of the security problem in the Middle East: It’s not ISIS, it’s Iran that’s the bigger threat to regional stability, and the Administration has played right into that sand trap thinking somehow that it was the 18th green. In that way it’s made the biggest potential problem in the region—a multivalent nuclear arms race, with all it implies for the security of innocent millions—more rather than less likely.
Still, the more history and memoir I read the more I incline to a longer view, and in that longer view I find islands of sympathy for President Obama’s (presumed) gut instincts. We are overinvested in the Middle East, and Syria was and remains a very hard problem. I have argued that we get the Fifth Fleet out of Bahrain, reposition Al-Udeid airbase out of Qatar, stop being gratuitously responsible for the security of undemocratic regimes whose futures are not of vital importance to us, and, above all, stop imagining that the better we get to know Middle Easterners the more we’ll like one another.So when I try to stand back a bit and ask what, really, do these mistakes matter, I mostly (the botching of the regional proliferation portfolio being the biggest exception) come up with far less-than-cataclysmic answers. Let’s face it: Most Americans who are attentive to these kinds of subjects have developed deep habits of the heart over the years when it comes to global leadership. We’ve gotten used to being the biggest and simultaneously the most benign guy on the block. We’re used to our order- and common security goods-provider role. We like it and, with some good reasons, we suppose that most other well-intentioned people on the planet like it, too. It won the Cold War, foiled the bad guys far and wide, and has helped make the world more prosperous. It’s good domestic politics, too, because it makes us feel better when things get screwed up at home—as they surely are. And for many it is part and parcel of a faith-based, if long-since-secularized, dogma of American identity—and so is fairly well insulated from introspection, let alone denial.But none of that makes it the only or the best game in town going forward. A good deal of the criticism of the Administration’s (presumed) approach stems from an aversion to change, from a reluctance to do a zero-based reassessment of the U.S. role in the world now a whole quarter century after the Cold War has been laid in its grave.The Russians, of course, have their own post-Soviet identity problem. Putin is trying to solve it by using bluster and aggression to boost a sagging national self-confidence; by acting like a superpower even when lacking super power, he is engaged in a manipulative fantasy bound to end in tragedy, very likely in Syria and probably elsewhere as well. We look at this from the vantage point of North America and we see it clearly. But we don’t look so closely at ourselves, or often ask how the perduring psychodrama of politics influences our own sense of identity and how that sense of identity manifests itself in U.S. foreign policy behavior.Maybe it’s best that we don’t ask too much or too often—too much naked honesty can be paralytic. Perhaps it has paralyzed the President a bit too much for our own good. But perhaps it’s also a bit too soon to judge with confidence the Obama Administration’s record in the Middle East, or in the world at large. Maybe the President is not so clueless after all. If the world of politics is a world amply decorated with irony, as we know it to be, why should this President’s foreign policy necessarily prove to be an exception?Putin Woos the Euros
Russian President Vladimir Putin met with European leaders and Ukrainian President Petro Poroshenko Friday to discuss further steps in de-escalating the conflict in Ukraine. The takeaway? The Minsk process, which was to see Ukraine get back control over its eastern border with Russia, will not complete by the end of the year. Part of the problem is that local elections in the breakaway so-called Donetsk and Luhansk People’s Republics will not take take place this month, as initially envisioned. Reuters:
“On the election issue … it will take longer. We don’t want elections to get held in eastern Ukrainian territories under conditions that would not respect Minsk,” said Hollande, speaking after hosting talks with the Russian, Ukrainian and German leaders.
“It’s therefore likely, even certain now, that — since we need three months to organize elections — we would go beyond the date that was set for the end of Minsk, that is to say Dec.31, 2015,” he told a news conference.German Chancellor Angela Merkel told the news conference: “The result (of Friday’s meetings) is that the Russian president committed to working towards … establishing the conditions that would allow elections to take place according to Minsk, based on Ukrainian law, in a coordinated fashion between the separatists in Donetsk and Luhansk and the Ukrainian government.”
A ceasefire, which has been more-or-less held since September 1, got another boost earlier this week when both Ukrainian government forces and separatist leaders agreed to pull back all heavy weapons, including tanks and mortars, from the front line. “This could mean the end of the war,” Denis Pushilin, the head of the parliament in the breakaway Donbas People’s Republic, said earlier this week.
But suspicions remain high that this might be more of a tactical pause for Putin rather than an attempt at permanent de-escalation. Ukraine’s Foreign Minister Pavlo Klimkin said ahead of the meeting that it’s still “all about the Russians turning up or turning down the temperature…creating instability and using this in a bid for trade-offs, concessions.” Poroshenko, leaving the summit, echoed these sentiments. Poroshenko was less sanguine, but nevertheless cautiously optimistic. “This means that there is a truce. The war will be over when the last piece of Ukrainian land is liberated. As long as we have occupied territories, the war is not over,” he said. In a sign that this read might well be correct, OSCE monitors for the first time on Thursday saw an advanced mobile Russian rocket system armed with thermobaric warheads, powerful enough to level a city block, deployed in the breakaway regions.Still, these early reports indicate that Russia may have convinced some Europeans it is serious about peace. The question is how many and by how much. The sanctions, which have taken their toll on the Russian economy, are due to be reviewed once again by European leaders by the end of the year. Putin doesn’t need to convince every European nation to break ranks for the regime to collapse. And as the fracas over migrant quotas showed, smaller countries no longer feel bound to toe the majority consensus line on hot-button European issues. If Putin plays his cards right, the Russian economy could get a much-needed boost early in 2016.Peter L. Berger's Blog
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