The Battle for Tora Bora

If you haven’t already read Peter Bergen’s TNR piece on the late 2001 battle for Tora Bora, Afghanistan, you should. It’s a page turner, and offers a “definitive account” of  “how Osama bin Laden slipped from our grasp.” It definitely lives up to the strapline. In my opinion, it’s also a fine example of good use of source material, as Bergen plumbs the wealth of memoirs published since then by key players.

Excerpt:

What really happened at Tora Bora? Not long after the battle ended, the answer to that question would become extremely clouded. Americans perceived the Afghan war as a stunning victory, and the failure at Tora Bora seemed like an unfortunate footnote to an otherwise upbeat story. By 2004, with George W. Bush locked in a tough reelection battle, some U.S. officials were even asserting, inaccurately, that bin Laden himself may not have been present at the battle.

The real history of Tora Bora is far more disturbing. Having reconstructed the battle–based on interviews with the top American ground commander, three Afghan commanders, and three CIA officials; accounts by Al Qaeda eyewitnesses that were subsequently published on jihadist websites; recollections of captured survivors who were later questioned by interrogators or reporters; an official history of the Afghan war by the U.S. Special Operations Command; an investigation by the Senate Foreign Relations Committee; and visits to the battle sites themselves–I am convinced that Tora Bora constitutes one of the greatest military blunders in recent U.S. history. It is worth revisiting now not just in the interest of historical accuracy, but also because the story contains valuable lessons as we renew our push against Al Qaeda in Afghanistan and Pakistan.

Read the rest here.

The AfPakInd Channel?

Anyone interested in tracking that other interested party to AfPaK issues – namely, India – should really read friend Eric Randolph’s blog, The Kikobor. Eric just left his job as an editor with Jane’s Country Risk and relocated to the subcontinent a couple of months ago to work on his freelancing career. He’s been posting and publishing regularly, at the blog, in Britain’s Guardian newspaper and in Jane’s Intelligence Weekly.

If his new profile photos are any indication, it’s been a maturing experience, too. Seriously, he’s grown a very distinguished beard. It makes all the difference, I think…

CNAS and Its Image Problem

Michael Crowley’s piece raised an interesting point about how counterinsurgency thinking is sold and received in Washington, zeroing in on CNAS President John Nagl’s central role in giving it the slick gloss that ensures even skeptics buy into it. Contrast that with CNAS efforts to prove it’s more than just a one-trick pony: CNAS reports on national security issues that have nothing to do with counterinsurgency fail to convince…. indeed, the response to such efforts lies somewhere been patronizing smile and cruel snicker. How to fix it? It probably doesn’t help that CNAS is led by one of the most recognizable faces in what Crowley dubbed the “cult of counterinsurgency.”

I wonder: if Nagl were to be replaced with, say, a scholar or practitioner  with broad and fair expertise across the range of security issues – or even with someone who’s a recognized authority on anything but counterinsurgency and counterterrorism – wouldn’t that boost CNAS credibility by visibly redistributing its eggs from one basket to several?

COIN-Love Redux

Alternate title: “why smart people diversify, and why those who don’t go splat face-first into the pavement”. An interesting piece in The New Republic from Senior Editor Michael Crowley, on COIN-love. Crowley writes about how CNAS has staked its claim as guru-central for counterinsurgency, and throws a few subtle barbs about the quality of its salesmanship vice the gloss of its ideas.

Excerpts:

Washington’s current enthusiasm for counterinsurgency is based largely on its apparent success in stabilizing Iraq–even though it’s not clear that the doctrine’s sophisticated tenets deserve all or even most of the credit. Indeed, an argument is brewing in military circles about whether the doctrine’s potential has been oversold. What happens next in Afghanistan could settle it.

and

Though CNAS is loath to be known as a one-trick pony–it recently completed a report encouraging U.S. cooperation with China and runs an energy and climate-based “natural security” program–it is effectively cornering the market on counterinsurgency thought.

and

The stakes for the United States in Afghanistan are enormous. But, in a more parochial sense, so are the stakes for CNAS and what you might call the cult of counterinsurgency.

and

… if Afghanistan doesn’t turn around soon, the Democrats who founded and support CNAS, and who have come to embrace the Petraeus-Nagl view of modern warfare, may find themselves wondering whether it’s time to go back to the drawing board.

Or they could just read some history. Yes, yes, of course I mean Algeria, Malaysia, and Vietnam. But really I mean that decade between the end of the Cold War and 2001 that everyone ignores. You know, the 1990s, the decade that offered reams of lessons learned about civil-military cooperation, good governance, official corruption, armed non-state actors and the like, before we decided to reinvent the wheel – again (Ed’s Note: Gasp… blasphemer!) for Afghanistan and Iraq.

I mean no ill will to the CNAS crowd. A smart and accomplished group of people, just a little too smug, smarmy, and overinflated about their special understanding of the nature of conflict and the poor schmucks who just don’t get it (not to mention their own qualifications for proclaiming how others don’t get it). In my unkinder moments, I think of COIN obsession as the fetish of those waaayyyyy too young for Vietnam and pissed off that they missed such a groovy fight (and the ability to claim a really great soundtrack as their own, in the bargain). Or those dissatisfied with the prohibition on proactively killing things absence of bona fide warfighting that was part and parcel of…. wait for it… peacekeeping. Remember that?

Next time you read a current or ex- military bio that includes the words “fought” or “combat” in relation to service in Bosnia, give it some thought. Only a handful of individuals can actually claim it with integrity, and only if they were in this placedid this, or participated in the rare mission of this kind that actually resulted in a shot fired (there weren’t many). Kosovo was much the same, except for a short bit in 1999, and that was mostly air power at work. Short version: it just wasn’t that kind of intervention. But I’ve been seeing some revisionist verbiage creep into some biographical characterizations of Balkan deployments as late as 2004 and 2005. That, and COIN-fetishization, reinforce a sneaking suspicion that we’re stuck in the midst of a convoluted memory hole and positively deluded about at least two things: the conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq, and of what we think we’ve learned about them and the lessons of “the past”.

Rant over. Go read the rest of Crowley’s article here.

Originally published at CTlab.

The View From the Veranda

Last week I gave a talk to some students at the School of Politics and International Studies (POLIS), at the University of Leeds. I’ve been an honorary Visiting Research Fellow with POLIS since April 2006, and it’s a rare occasion when I’m actually on-site. In fact, this was only the second time, the first being a talk I gave in late 2007. Then, I was still a serving staff officer with NATO, and my talk was about a book I’d just published. This time, I was speaking as an academic, recently resigned from NATO service, and offering students my observations on what it’s like to be a functionary in an International Organization. Despite working in some very interesting places – Bosnia, Kosovo and Afghansitan, as well as Western Europe – I couldn’t honestly claim to know much about them, and my own perceptions of those experiences are very much “the view from the veranda.”

That phrase is lifted from an article, written by Belgian academic Julian Eckl and published in International Political Sociology, entitled “Responsible Scholarship After Leaving the Veranda: Normative Issues Faced by Field Researchers – and Armchair Scientists.” Reading it was part of a broader effort to understand how the infrastructure of military interventions conflicts with the drive for ethnographic detail and context about states that host them. More importantly, I think it goes straight to the heart of knowledge claims. Debates on how we come to know the things we think we know – epistemological assumptions about the nature of research and understanding – are nothing new. In Iraq and Afghanistan, the problems are acute: headquarters life has been widely portrayed as  a disconnected bubble – an alien, hermetic imposition that squats amid the local environment while employing anthropologists and other social scientists to fill in the blanks on local culture.

Baghdad’s Green Zone, the barricaded home of the Coalition Provisional Authority (CPA), has been a particular focus of such reporting. There, “imperial life in the emerald city” raises uncomfortable questions about just how much visiting advisors can learn and achieve – even those afforded a full year or more on the ground, and no matter how exotically qualified they might be. A number of journalists have been quick to point out the problem. New York Times reporter Dexter Filkins lived in Baghdad for almost four years, from the 2003 Invasion to the height of the insurgency in late 2006. In his memoir, The Forever War, he wrote “It was in the Green Zone that I would think the war was lost. I didn’t think about losing when I was outside – when I was in Iraq.” In The Assassin’s Gate, George Packer, the New Yorker staff writer, described the almost surreal disconnect that came with moving from one world to the next: “I went back and forth between the Green and Red Zones, between the CPA and Iraq, feeling almost dizzy at the transition, two separate realities existing on opposite sides of concrete and wire.”

What Packer and Filkins described in their respective books is almost identical to my own sense that the distance between observer and observed is infinitely elastic. In September 2001, the same month that Al Qaeda’s terrorists visited havoc on Manhattan, human rights activist and Pulitzer Prize winning journalist Samantha Power published an article in The Atlantic on the Rwanda Genocide of 1994. It’s opening section was titled “People Sitting In Offices,” an allusion to the bureaucratic penchant of far-away politicians in Washington and New York to second-guess the reports and judgments of field-based observers. The irony is thick: after living and working at both ends of the food chain, I often found myself sitting behind the protective barrier of a desktop monitor, in Sarajevo, Pristina, Kabul, reading reports from the field and second-guessing the facts they purported to convey. I wasn’t far away; I was right around the corner. People sitting in offices, as it turns out, don’t need to be squirreled away in bunkers on the Potomac to do their damage.

And so it’s with no small amount of skepticism about what can be “known”, one way or the other, that I read work like Eckl’s. His premise is, I think, straightforward and uncontroversial. “Ethnographic  methods like participant observation differ significantly from other methods,” the article’s abstract states, “since they explicitly blur the boundary between theory and practice; this blurring requires researchers to carefully evaluate their conflicting responsibilities to the people studied, to the scientific community, and to themselves.” Sure.  “Many of the insights generated in ethnology are relevant for political scientists, too, especially for those political scientists who are prepared to ‘‘leave the veranda’’ and want to put ethnographic methods to use, but also for those who prefer to remain in the position of an ‘‘armchair’’ researcher.” Still fine.

It’s Eck’s more practical recommendations that feel, well… awkward. Scholarly “objectivity” and “neutrality” are laudable goals for researchers, and achieving even some semblance of them is the height of methodological rigor. But when politics enters the picture, things get more complicated. At issue then is whether scholars should proactively seek to limit access to their research findings rather than allow some potential future misuse of their work. Eckl thinks so. He also makes an interesting case for the idea that “the field” has, traditionally, represented very different things to anthropologists and to political scientists, and that the pressures of co-option either way must be resisted. He recommends reliance on documentary evidence as one way of avoiding the perils of “going native”; as a trained historian, I see that as a red herring of sorts. What Eckl doesn’t do, unfortunately, is reconcile the worlds of the anthropologist and the political scientist, of the field observer and the deskbound researcher. There is real and social distance that separates people sitting in offices from their grubby counterparts living and breathing outside the wire. We need to understand both, and to value both.

Eckl, J. (2008). “Responsible Scholarship After Leaving the Veranda: Normative Issues Faced by Field Researchers-and Armchair Scientists.” International Political Sociology, 2 (3), 185-203 DOI: 10.1111/j.1749-5687.2008.00044.x

Originally published at CTlab.