Posted by
Always To The Right on Sunday, September 16, 2007 10:04:21 PM
This report republished with attribution to Strategic Forecasting, Inc. at www.stratfor.com.
War, Psychology and Time
By George FriedmanThere are moments in history when everything
comes together. Today is the sixth anniversary of the
al Qaeda attack against
the United States. This is the week
Gen. David Petraeus is reporting to
Congress on the status of the war in Iraq. It also is the week
Osama bin
Laden made one of his rare video appearances. The world will not change this
week, but the convergence of these strands makes it necessary to pause and
take stock.
To do this, we must begin at the beginning. We do not mean
Sept. 11, 2001, but the moment when bin Laden decided to stage the attack --
and the reasoning behind it. By understanding his motives, we can begin to
measure his success. His motive was not, we believe, simply to kill
Americans. That was a means to an end. Rather, as we and others have said
before, it was to seize what he saw as a rare opportunity to begin the
process of recreating a vast Islamic empire.
The rare opportunity was
the fall of the Soviet Union. Until then, the Islamic world had been divided
between Soviet and American spheres of influence. Indeed, the border of the
Soviet Union ran through the Islamic world. The Cold War between the United
States and
Soviet Union created a tense paralysis in that world, with
movement and change being measured in decades and inches. Suddenly,
everything that was once certain became uncertain. One half of the power
equation was gone, and the other half, the United States, was at a loss as to
what it meant. Bin Laden looked at the Soviet withdrawal from
Afghanistan and
saw a historical opening.
His problem was that contrary to what has
been discussed about terrorist organizations, they cannot create an empire.
What they can do is seize a nation-state and utilize its power to begin
shaping an empire. Bin Laden had
Afghanistan, but he understood that its
location and intrinsic power were insufficient for his needs. He could not
hope to recreate the Islamic empire from
Kabul or
Kandahar. For bin Laden's
strategy to work, he had to topple an important Muslim state and replace it
with a true Islamist regime. There were several that would have done, but we
suspect his eye was on
Egypt. When
Egypt moves, the Islamic world trembles.
But that is a guess. A number of other regimes would have served the
purpose.
In bin Laden's analysis, the strength of these regimes also
was their weakness. They were all dependent on the United States for their
survival. This fit in with bin Laden's broader analysis. The reason for
Muslim weakness was that the Christian world -- the Crusaders, as he referred
to them -- had imposed a series of regimes on Muslims and thereby divided and
controlled them. Until these puppet regimes were overthrown, Muslims would be
helpless in the face of Christians, in particular the current leading
Christian power, the United States.
The root problem, as bin Laden saw
it, was psychological. Muslims suffered from a psychology of defeat. They
expected to be weaker than Christians and so they were. In spite of the
defeat of the atheist Soviets in Afghanistan and the collapse of their
regime, Muslims still did not understand two things -- that the Christians
were inherently weak and corrupt, and that the United States was simply
another Crusader nation and their enemy.
The 9/11 attack, as well as
earlier attacks, was designed to do two things. First, by striking targets
that were well-known among the Muslim masses, the attack was meant to
demonstrate that the United States could be attacked and badly hurt. Second,
it was designed to get a U.S. reaction -- and this is what bin Laden saw as
the beauty of his plan: If
Washington reacted by doing nothing effective,
then he could argue that the United States was profoundly weak and
indecisive. This would increase contempt for the United States. If, on the
other hand, the United States staged a series of campaigns in the Islamic
world, he would be able to say that this demonstrated that the United States
was the true Crusader state and the enemy of Muslims everywhere. Bin Laden
was looking for an intemperate move -- either the continued impotent
responses to
al Qaeda attacks in the 1990s or a drastic assault against
Islam. Either one would have done.
For the American side, 9/11 did
exactly what it was intended to do: generate terror. In our view, this was a
wholly rational feeling. Anyone who was not frightened of what was coming
next was out of touch with reality. Indeed, we are always amused when
encountering friends who feel the United States vastly exaggerated the
implications of four simultaneous plane hijacks that resulted in the world's
worst terrorist attack and cost thousands of lives and billions in damage.
Yet, six years on, the overwhelming and reasonable fear on the night of Sept.
11 has been erased and replaced by a strange sense that it was all an
overreaction.
Al Qaeda was a global -- but sparse -- network. That
meant that it could be anywhere and everywhere, and that searching for it was
like looking for a needle in a haystack. But there was something else that
disoriented the United States even more. Whether due to disruption by U.S.
efforts or a lack of follow-on plans,
al Qaeda never attacked the United
States again after 9/11. Had it periodically attacked the United States, the
ongoing sense of crisis would not have dissipated. But no attack has
occurred, and over the years, actions and policies that appeared reasonable
and proportionate in 2001 began to appear paranoid and excessive. A sense
began to develop that the United States had overreacted to 9/11, or even that
the Bush administration used 9/11 as an excuse for oppressive
behavior.
Regardless of whether he was a one-trick pony or he did
intend, but failed, to stage follow-on attacks, the lack of strikes since
9/11 has turned out to be less damaging to bin Laden than to the Bush
administration.
Years of vigilance without an indisputable attack have
led to a slow but systematic meltdown in the American consensus that was
forged white hot on Sept. 11. On that day, it was generally conceded that
defeating
al Qaeda took precedence over all other considerations. It was
agreed that this would be an extended covert war in which the use of any
number of aggressive and unpleasant means would be necessary. It was believed
that the next attack could come at any moment, and that preventing it was
paramount.
Time reshapes our memory and displaces our fears from
ourselves to others. For many, the fevered response to 9/11 is no longer
"our" response, but "their" response, the response of the administration --
or more precisely, the overreaction of the administration that used 9/11 as
an excuse to wage an unnecessary global war. The fears of that day are viewed
as irrational and the responsibility of others. Regardless of whether it was
intentional, the failure of
al Qaeda to mount another successful attack
against the United States in six years has made it appear that the reaction
to 9/11 was overblown.
The Bush administration, however, felt it could
not decline combat. It surged into the Islamic world, adopting one of the
strategies bin Laden hoped it would. There were many reasons for this, but
part of it was psychological. Bin Laden wanted to show that the United States
was weak. Bush wanted to demonstrate that the United States was strong. The
secretary of defense at the time,
Donald Rumsfeld, used the term "shock and
awe." That was precisely the sense the United States wanted to deliver to the
Islamic world. It wanted to call bin Laden's bet -- and raise it.
That
was more than four years ago. The sense of shock and awe, if it was ever
there, is long gone. Rather than showing the Islamic world the overwhelming
power of the United States, the United States is now engaged in a debate over
whether there is some hope for its strategy. No one is arguing that the war
has been a slam dunk. Whatever the complex reasons for invading Iraq, and we
have addressed those in detail, time has completely undermined the
psychological dimension of the strategy. Four years into the war, no one is
shocked and no one is awed. The same, it should be added, is true about
Afghanistan.
Time has hammered the Bush administration in two ways.
In the first instance -- and this might actually be the result of the
administration's success in stopping
al Qaeda -- there has been no further
attack against the United States. The justification for the administration's
measures to combat
al Qaeda, therefore, is wearing thin. For many, a state of
emergency without any action simply does not work after six years. It is not
because
al Qaeda and others aren't out there. It is because time wears down
the imagination, until the threat becomes a phantom.
Time also has
worn down the Bush administration's war in Iraq. The Islamic world is not
impressed. The American public doesn't see the point or the end. What was
supposed to be a stunning demonstration of American power has been a
demonstration of the limits of that power.
The paradox is this: There
has been no follow-on attack against the United States. The United States did
dislodge
Saddam Hussein and the
Taliban, and while the war goes badly, the
casualties are a small fraction of those lost in
Vietnam. Most important, bin
Laden's dream is gone. No Muslim state has been overthrown and replaced with
a regime that bin Laden would find worthy. He has been marginalized by both
the United States and by his rival Shiite radicals, who have picked up the
mantle that he dropped. His own jihadist movement is no longer under his
effective control.
Bin Laden has been as badly battered by time as
Bush. Unable to achieve any of his political goals, unable to mount another
attack, he reminds us of
Che Guevara after his death in
Bolivia. He is a
symbol of rebellion for a generation that does not intend to rebel and that
carefully ignores his massive failures.
Yet, in the end, Guevara and
bin Laden could have become important only if their revolutions had
succeeded. There is much talk and much enthusiasm. There is no revolution.
Therefore, what time has done to bin Laden's hopes is interesting, but in the
end, as a geopolitical force, he has not counted beyond his image since Sept.
11, 2001.
The effect on the United States is much more profound. The
war, both in
Iraq and against
al Qaeda, has worn the United States down over
time. The psychology of fear has been replaced by a psychology of cynicism.
The psychology of confidence in war has been replaced by a psychology of
helplessness. Exhaustion pervades all.
That is the single most
important outcome of the war. What happens to bin Laden is, in the end, about
as important as what happened to Guevara. Legends will be made of it -- not
history. But when the world's leading power falls into the psychological
abyss brought about by time and war, the entire world is changed by it. Every
country rethinks its position and its actions. Everything
changes.
That is what is important about the Petraeus report. He will
ask for more time. Congress will give it to him. The president will take it.
Time, however, has its price not only in war but also psychologically. And if
the request for time leads to more failure and the American psychology is
further battered, then that is simply more time that other powers, great and
small, will have to take advantage of the situation. The United States has
psychologically begun tearing itself apart over both the war on terrorism and
the war in Iraq. Whatever your view of that, it is a fact -- a serious
geopolitical fact.
The Petraeus report will not address that. It is
out of the general's area of responsibility. But the pressing issue is this:
If the United States continues the war and if it maintains its vigilance
against attacks, how does the evolution of the American psyche play
out?