When I see Putin and Trump, I see two burning towers and the failure of US foreign policy.
On September 11, 2001, I was working at the Cato Institute conducting research for what would become Ted Galen Carpenter’s book, Bad Neighbor Policy, a condemnation of Reagan’s drug war as expanded to include the defoliation of Colombia and destabliization of democratic regimes in Latin America. Al Quaeda had come across my screen in research of heroin and opium pipelines that meandered through the former Yugoslavia and funded religious or ethnic extremists.
The Taliban and al Qaeda had used Chechen heroin smuggling networks, which extended to Russia and Eastern Europe, to expand their control of the drug trade. High-ranking Chechen rebel leaders had sent their families to Afghanistan to escape the Russian crackdown in their homeland. In 2000, as the Taliban attempted to improve relations with China through the intercession of Pakistan, the Taliban moved the Uighur fighters from front lines outside Kabul to the north, to join up with the IMU. The Taliban then denied to the Chinese that they were enlisting Uighur militants.
[Ahmed Rashid, Descent Into Chaos, footnote 37 for Chapter Four]
Architect of Iraqi disorder: Don't miss him too much.
In the weeks following the terrorist attack, I frequented foreign policy cocktail hours where Central Asia hands and experts congregated. It was a difficult time. One night in Adams Morgan, I remember talking to a Green Beret whose name was “David Danner”— he insisted the US had failed Masud and the Northern Alliance. On Danner’s view, it was this negligence of anti-Taliban allies and this preference for Pakistan that led to Al Quaeda’s successful legitimization. “If moderate Muslims believe the US supports terrorist regimes, anti-American sentiment grows. The US is not seen as a viable, credible solution. September 11th is the result.”
Sometimes I wonder what happened to David in the years between 2001 and now. He’d served in Bosnia and Central Asia. A google search gives me nothing. Perhaps he became a foot soldier in the war on terror. Perhaps he died and his obituary is another name on the wall of fallen Americans. Perhaps he has a new name, a new persona, a new covert operation currently underway.
September 11th should be more than an annual outpouring of grief and flag-waving. It should be a lesson that informs US foreign policy. Since the Trump administration’s foreign policy agenda is run by disillusioned Neo-conservatives, the lessons from Dubya’s “war on terror” infiltrate the mounting policy mistakes. Starting with Russia. A review of the standing policies and alliances on September 11th (and the immediate preceding period) reveals a Republican administration determined to ignore the lessons of history.
Let's go back to 2001 when, on the morning of September 11th, I browsed the latest Strafor releases.
Two blocks away, the head of Pakistan’s ISI, Gen, Mehmood Ahmad, was meeting with Porter Goss, chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee. Ahmad was insisting that Pakistan was doing everything it could to convince the Taliban to give up Osama bin Laden to the Americans.
Like many in the Bush administration, Ahmad was a born-again fundamentalist who attributed his policies to the reigning hand of God or Allah. Ahmad’s conversion had been a coup of sorts. In 1999, he was one of the three generals who overthrew Nawaz Sharif and passed the reigns of the Pakistani government to Pervez Musharraf. The only way to repay the generals that bring you to power is a continuous litany of “In shallah”, or as God wills it.
With all the passion of a recent fundie-convert, Ahmad supported the Taliban and other Islamic extremists fighting in Kashmir. Support of the Taliban had become part of the Pakistan’s strategic national interest, since a friendly regime in Afghanistan offered strategic depth in coming conflicts with India. By over-valuing Kashmir and Pakistan’s national greatness agenda, the ISI underestimated the threat posed by political extremism and Islamic sectarianism. The Bush administration’s wary courtship of foreign engagement left Goss with little leverage in negotiations. Ahmad demanded a “more positive US attitude toward Pakistan” in return for collaboration between ISI and CIA on bin Laden. A more positive attitude much like the one Trump offers Putin— a willingness to overlook autocracy and illiberalism in exchange for a small strategic gain.
Specifically, the ISI demanded the US lift multiple sanctions on Pakistan and offer positive lip-service in return for Pakistan’s turning against the Taliban and offering political and military support the US needed in order to capture bin Laden. It was a simple quid pro quo with no room for manoevre.
Ahmed Rashid traces Pakistan’s problems back to the period of state formation and insecurity over national identity. Pakistan’s founder Mohammed Ali Jinnah emphasized the secular, democratic identity of Pakistan from the start. In a 1947 speech, Jinnah stated: “You may belong to any religion or caste or creed— that has nothing to do with the business of the State.”
But the business of religious fundamentalism proved more profitable to 20th century Pakistani leaders and military officials. The army invested in promoting Islam as “state ideology” and trained soldiers to defend Pakistan’s territorial and ideological borders, including islam. Rashid notes that no state-funded school textbooks teach kids about Jinnah’s words because the founding narrative would anger mullahs and militants. As a result, the primary text focuses on the Islamic nature of Pakistan and locates its founding impetus in a religious movement.
Ethnic nationalism has only increased in the wake of this fundamentalist founding myth. Violence can be expected when nations offer some citizens a higher status than others on the basis of religious zeal or genetic background. I don’t need to source the historical evidence here— unless you live in Alabama, in which case, all the sourcing in the world won’t clear your mind of political football and stadium politics. Yes Alabama, you are so bought.