CIAO DATE: 09/2011
Volume: 34, Issue: 3
Summer 2011
A Military Strategy for the New Space Environment (PDF)
William J. Lynn, III
As disaster struck Japan and revolution swept the Middle East, Americans once again watched events unfold in real time, through a network of satellites in space that have revolutionized the dissemination of information and changed how we live. For decades, we have taken this network, and the operational environment of space which supports it, for granted. But quietly, almost imperceptibly, revolutions of a less visible kind have been unfolding above us in space itself. Over the Middle East, censorship imposed by autocratic states has for the first time extended into the upper reaches of the atmosphere. The satellite-based telecommunications services of Thuraya—a regional satellite phone provider—have been disrupted, and the satellite broadcasts of Al Jazeera, the Voice of America, and the BBC rendered unintelligible. Libya and Iran are the primary offenders, but even less technologically developed countries such as Ethiopia have employed jamming technologies for political purposes. The willingness of states to interfere with satellites in orbit has serious implications for our national security. Space systems enable our modern way of war. They allow our warfighters to strike with precision, to navigate with accuracy, to communicate with certainty, and to see the battlefield with clarity. Without them, many of our most important military advantages evaporate. The specter of jamming is not the only new concern. The February 2009 collision of an Iridium communications satellite with a defunct Soviet satellite, and the earlier, deliberate destruction of a satellite by China, produced thousands of debris fragments, each of which poses a potentially catastrophic threat to operational spacecraft. In an instant, these events—one accidental, the other purposeful—doubled the amount of space debris, making space operations more complicated and dangerous. In less than a generation, space has fundamentally and irrevocability changed. Unlike the environment we knew for the first 50 years of the space age, space is now characterized by three “C’s”: it is increasingly congested, contested, and competitive. These changes not only pose tremendous technical challenges to military space systems, they also force rethinking of how we use space to maintain our national security. The National Security Space Strategy released on February 4, the first ever of its kind, establishes a new approach to space. Building upon emerging norms of behavior and a renewed commitment to share capabilities with allies and partners, the strategy charts how we will maintain our strategic advantage despite the more complicated environment.
Germany as a Geo-economic Power (PDF)
Hans Kundnani
Berlin’s March 2011 abstention on the UN Security Council vote on military intervention in Libya has raised questions about Germany’s role in the international system. By abstaining on Security Council Resolution 1973, Germany broke with its Western allies and aligned itself with the four BRIC countries: Brazil, Russia, India, and China. Whether or not the decision signals a weakening of what Germans call the Westbindung, it illustrates the strength of Germany’s ongoing reluctance to use military force as a foreign-policy tool even in a multilateral context and to prevent a humanitarian catastrophe. Over the past few years, as the number of German and civilian casualties has increased in Afghanistan, the German public has become more skeptical about the mission of the International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) in particular and about the deployment of German troops abroad in general. Like Germany, other EU member states such as France and the United Kingdom are cutting their defense budgets, but Germany shares few of their aspirations to project power beyond Europe. The abstention was particularly striking—and, for many people, surprising—because it follows a period in which Germany had appeared to become more assertive in its use of economic power within Europe. Under huge pressure from the German public, which blamed others for the eurozone crisis and fears the creation of a “transfer union” (in other words a European Union in which fiscally responsible member states pay for fiscally irresponsible ones), Chancellor Angela Merkel last spring was initially reluctant to bail out Greece, which was in danger of defaulting. She then insisted on tough conditions for the rescue package that was eventually agreed to in May, including the involvement of the International Monetary Fund. Some saw in Merkel’s response to the Greek crisis a return to classical German great power politics. However, as the threat from the crisis moved from the periphery closer to the center of Europe in the second half of last year, Germany was paradoxically also criticized for showing too little “leadership.” The central difficulty of explaining German foreign policy is how to understand this apparent contradiction between the harder edge of Germany’s pursuit of national interest within Europe and its continuing—and perhaps even increasing—reluctance to use military force or even to project power in a traditional sense in the wider world. The foreign policy of the post-reunification “Berlin Republic” increasingly seems to be qualitatively different from that of the pre-reunification “Bonn Republic.” But Germany is not simply returning to a pre-World War II mode of power—not least because the nature of power in international relations and particularly within Europe has changed so much since then. Rather, Germany seems to be emerging as a particularly pure example of a new form of power in international relations: a geo-economic power.
China and the United Nations: The Stakeholder Spectrum (PDF)
Michael Fullilove
In December 2009, representatives of 192 nations—not to mention thousands of journalists, activists, and business executives—assembled in Copenhagen for the 15th Conference of the Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC). The goal was to strike a new international agreement to replace the Kyoto Protocol, due to expire in 2012—one that would lead to meaningful reductions of greenhouse gas emissions. Expectations were great, and it was evident that one of the key players would be the People’s Republic of China. After all, China—the world’s largest emitter of greenhouse gases—has taken huge strides in the past decade, toughening up its environment protection laws, fighting pollution, planting forests, and investing aggressively in renewables and energy efficiency. In the lead-up to Copenhagen, China announced it would cut its carbon intensity by 40–45 percent below 2005 levels by 2020. In the end, Copenhagen was a flop. There were many reasons for the disappointment of Copenhagen, but in the public mind at least, China bore a good deal of responsibility. Beijing’s aversion to quantifiable commitments led it to oppose one that didn’t even apply to China directly, namely the critical pledge that by 2050 rich countries would cut emissions by 80 percent compared to 1990 levels. China and other high-emitting developing states opposed the principle of international verification, agreeing only to “international consultations and analysis.” The Chinese argued for removing references to Copenhagen as a way-stage on the path to a legally binding treaty. China’s predicament in Copenhagen illustrated in miniature many of the features of China’s awkward relationship with the United Nations: the high hopes; the genuine, often startling, progress; the continuing disconnect between China’s weight and its strategy; the conflicting desires to be seen as a great power and a poor country; the tacking between arrogance and uncertainty; and the hurt feelings on both sides when expectations are crushed. Copenhagen put the following question in front of the international community: how far has China progressed toward achieving the status of a “responsible stakeholder,” urged on it by then-U.S. Deputy Secretary of State Robert Zoellick in 2005? Examining China’s approach to the UN could help answer that question. Beijing’s performance at the UN is important in itself, but it also serves as something of a proxy for its broader global strategy.
The Climate Wars Myth (PDF)
Bruno Tertrais
The first decade of the 21st century was the hottest since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution. Global warming is real, and if present trends continue, its possible effects worry publics and governments around the world. Could it foster armed conflict for resources such as food and water? Will Western armies be increasingly called upon to mitigate the effects of natural catastrophes, humanitarian disasters, and floods of refugees? Think tanks have enthusiastically embraced this new field of research, and militaries around the world are now actively studying the possible impact of a warming planet on global security. Books with titles such as “Climate Wars” predict a bleak future. A well-known French consultant claims that a 5 degree Celsius increase in average global temperature would generate no less than a “bloodbath.” Former World Bank economist Lord Nicholas Stern—the author of the 2006 “Stern Report” on the possible economic impact of climate change—even declares that failing to deal with climate change decisively would lead to “an extended world war.” However, there is every reason to be more than circumspect regarding such dire predictions. History shows that “warm” periods are more peaceful than “cold” ones. In the modern era, the evolution of the climate is not an essential factor to explain collective violence. Nothing indicates that “water wars” or floods of “climate refugees” are on the horizon. And to claim that climate change may have an impact on security is to state the obvious—but it does not make it meaningful for defense and security planning.
Al-Qaeda and the Rise of China: Jihadi Geopolitics in a Post-Hegemonic World (PDF)
Brian Fishman
Prognosticating about China’s economic, political, and military rise has become a favorite conversation for Western politicians and policy wonks. But Western observers are not the only strategists debating the impact of increased Chinese power. A parallel conversation has been taking place among al-Qaeda affiliated jihadi thinkers for much of the last decade. That discussion ranges from debate about how best to support rebellion among Muslim Uyghurs in China’s Xinjiang province to more abstract disagreements over how a transnational militant network such as al-Qaeda should adapt when a traditional state upends the U.S.-led system that has been its primary boogeyman for nearly 15 years. As al-Qaeda wrestles with an old-fashioned shift in the global distribution of state power, China must determine how to evolve its traditional foreign policy memes in response to the transnational problems posed by al-Qaeda and its allies. China’s traditional policy of non-intervention in the internal affairs of other countries has served it reasonably well for 60 years and continues to create certain advantages in negotiations with less-than-humanitarian regimes in the Middle East and Africa. But sub-national and transnational threats will challenge the doctrine of non-interventionism, which is grounded in a decidedly Westphalian understanding of the world. China has already grown somewhat more forward-leaning in dealing with some transnational threats, including pirates off of East Africa, but jihadi groups represent a challenge that is both broader and potentially more disruptive. To date, China has responded to a potential threat from al-Qaeda by minimizing rhetorical confrontation and hoping that al-Qaeda’s operators remain focused elsewhere. But ten years after 9/11, global jihadis such as al-Qaeda view China’s economic and political support for “apostate” regimes a terrible offense. That, coupled with the increasing prominence of the Uyghurs in jihadi propaganda, suggests China will not be able to avoid al-Qaeda forever.
Crimea's Overlooked Instability (PDF)
William Varettoni
It was, perhaps unfortunately, a picture broadcast round the world. Ditching decorum, Ukraine’s protesting parliamentarians hurled eggs, set off smoke-belching flares, poured glue in voting machines, and duked it out (literally) within their legislative chamber on April 27, 2010. At issue was the parliament’s ratification of a lease extension for Russia’s Black Sea Fleet in the Ukrainian port of Sevastopol, Crimea. The lease was due to expire in 2017, but will now (most likely, although nothing is ever set in stone in Ukrainian politics) continue through 2042. In exchange, Ukraine will receive a roughly 30 percent discount on natural gas imports from Russia, worth up to $40 billion over 10 years. If it works as advertised, Kyiv sold some of its sovereignty for a stronger economy. Given the current economic environment, few dispassionate observers would begrudge Ukraine this singular tradeoff. The basing extension is unlikely to be reversed, and Crimea has once again receded from the headlines. This is both disappointing and dangerous, because the fate of the Black Sea Fleet is far from the most combustible issue facing Crimea. Crimea is at much greater risk for violence than most people assume, including those in Moscow feting the lease extension, because of two flawed tenets of conventional wisdom. The first holds that Russia wants to annex Crimea and is merely waiting for the right opportunity, most likely under the pretense of defending Russian brethren abroad. This would be accurate if it could be done with no consequences. But Russia has seen that overt action in Crimea is a strategic loser, as evidenced by its failed attempt to assert claim to the sandbar island of Tuzla. This breach of Ukrainian sovereignty received nearly universal condemnation by Ukrainians, who supported the deployment of troops to secure the island. Russia is a bigger beneficiary of the status quo than Kyiv, and has greater incentives to avoid significant changes. The Sevastopol base extension only reinforces this. Furthermore, overt Russian action also risks undermining one of its major foreign policy successes—its effective use of soft power in Crimea. Russia’s deployment of soft and covert power has given it significant control in Crimea at a fraction of the physical and political cost of the so-called frozen conflicts in Transnistria and Georgia. This may prove a tempting template for expanding its influence within its neighbors. The second tenet, common both inside and outside of Ukraine, is that Russia poses the greatest security threat to Crimea. While Russia’s behavior in Crimea undeniably encourages instability, it is only part of the problem. Crimea is far more complex, and at risk of civil conflict, than most recognize. Ethnic tensions, a widening fissure between Islamic and Orthodox Christian populations, disinformation campaigns, and cycles of elite-manipulated instability all threaten to throw Crimea into a downward spiral of civil violence. These issues have festered since Ukraine’s independence and are likely to get worse under President Viktor Yanukovych. They are ignored at great peril. The much-hyped fear of overt Russian intervention in Crimea is far more likely to result from these unaddressed issues spiraling out of control than from any deliberate plans coming out of Moscow.
The Battle for Reform with Al-Qaeda (PDF)
Juan C. Zarate, David A. Gordon
In the summer of 2005, Ayman al-Zawahiri, then-Osama bin Laden’s Egyptian deputy, began a direct debate with the United States about the nature of reform of the Middle East. With an assault rifle in the background, al-Qaeda’s number two argued that reform must be based on Shari’a and was impossible so long as “our countries are occupied by the Crusader forces” and “our governments are controlled by the American embassies.” The only alternative was “fighting for the sake of God.” Zawahiri concluded that “demonstrations and speaking out in the streets” would not be sufficient. That salvo in the rhetorical battle for reform set the stage for a fundamental ideological confrontation unleashed by the Arab Spring. If the wave of popular protests sweeping through the Arab world results in genuine and lasting democratic reform, the youth on the streets of Tunis, Cairo, and Benghazi will have proven Zawahiri wrong. A growing number of analysts have noted that these non-violent, secular revolutions focused on local grievances and individual rights will fatally undermine al-Qaeda’s ideology and bring about its inevitable collapse. Indeed, the pristine spirit of the Arab Spring is a direct challenge to al-Qaeda’s central narrative. If, however, the Arab Spring leads to division, discontent, and conflict, Zawahiri’s arguments will resonate and the rising tide of disillusionment could reenergize al-Qaeda’s concept of reform-by-jihad in the Arab heartland. Paradoxically, the Arab Spring represents a strategic pivot for al-Qaeda and its associated movements (AQAM)—at once the moment is an existential threat to its ideology and a potential window to restore lost relevance amidst its core Sunni constituency. Given these stakes, AQAM’s leaders will do everything possible to ensure the survival of their ideology, shape the narrative, and feed off the likely disillusionment arising from this chaotic period. The statements of prominent AQAM chiefs like Zawahiri and Anwar al-Awlaki—the Yemeni–American cleric and propagandist for al-Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula—and of surrogate groups like al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM) reflect this realization and their attempts to shape the narrative of the Arab Spring. The stakes have become even greater for AQAM after the killing of Osama bin Laden at the hands of U.S. forces in May 2011. The death of al-Qaeda’s founder as well as symbolic and strategic head could spur leadership divisions and fractures in the global movement at a time when AQAM is struggling for relevance in the Arab world.
Israel's Pessimistic View of the Arab Spring (PDF)
Daniel Byman
Americans took heart as they watched Egyptian demonstrators rally in Tahrir Square and topple the regime of Hosni Mubarak in a peaceful revolution. Next door in Israel, however, the mood was somber: “When some people in the West see what’s happening in Egypt, they see Europe 1989,” an Israeli official remarked. “We see it as Tehran 1979.” Political leaders vied to see who could be the most pessimistic, with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu publicly warning that it was even possible that “Egypt will go in the direction of Iran,” with the new Cairo government becoming even more dictatorial and lashing out abroad. As he pointed out in remarks to the Knesset, “They too had demonstrations; multitudes filled the town squares. But, of course it progressed in a different way.” As unrest spread from Egypt to Bahrain, Jordan, Syria, and Yemen, the gloom seemed to deepen. These apocalyptic predictions and Israel’s doom-and-gloom mentality are easy, too easy, to dismiss. Israelis are always hyper-sensitive to their security. Indeed, their reaction to the spread of democracy so close to their borders seems churlish, as does their tendency to look on the dark side when so many of their Arab neighbors now have hopes for a better life. But dismissing Israeli concerns would be a mistake. Some of Israel’s fears are valid, and others that are less so will still drive Israeli policies. The new regimes and the chaotic regional situation pose security challenges to the Jewish state. These challenges, and the Israeli reactions to them, are likely to worsen the crisis in Gaza and make the prospects for peace between the Israelis and Palestinians even more remote. The new revolutions also have the potential to complicate the U.S.–Israel relationship further and make it harder for the United States to benefit from the Arab Spring. In the end, however, neither the United States nor Israel is behind the winds of change sweeping the Middle East. Egypt will have a new regime, and other Arab countries may too. Others may reform, while still others may become more reactionary, or even, as in Libya, collapse into civil war. Decrying this trend risks missing opportunities to nudge it in the right direction. It is in Israel’s interest, as well as Washington’s, that the regional transformation is peaceful and that democratization succeeds.
Beware the Duck Test (PDF)
Bruce W. Jentleson
In explaining why the United States was scheming to overthrow the government of Guatemala—democratically elected but allegedly with communist leanings during the Cold War—the U.S. ambassador proposed the “duck test”: “Many times it is impossible to prove legally that a certain individual is a communist; but for cases of this sort I recommend a practical method of detection—the ‘duck test’….[If a] bird certainly looks like a duck. Also, he goes to the pond and you notice he swims like a duck. Well, by this time you’ve probably reached the conclusion that the bird is a duck, whether he’s wearing a label or not.” The duck test lumping together leaders, parties, and movements which in any way smacked of radicalism as part of the Soviet orbit was a key factor in many U.S. foreign policy failures during the Cold War in the then-Third World. As we focus on an Arab world undergoing unprecedented change and instability, posing threats but also presenting opportunities, we need to avoid making comparable mistakes with respect to political Islam and other forces. Blithe generalizations, binary thinking, and fear-mongering distort both the political dialogue and the analytic capacity needed to pursue policies differentiated according to the particular political dynamics of the various countries of the Arab world and the strategic challenges facing the United States.
The Trust Deficit: Seven Steps Forward for U.S.–Arab Dialogue (PDF)
Mina Al-Oraibi, Gerard Russell
“We are in an information war...and we are losing” declared U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, describing U.S. efforts to counter extremists and engage Arab publics during this year’s unprecedented and historic change in the Middle East. She is right. In the decade since 9/11, thousands of American lives and more than a trillion dollars have been spent on wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, while millions of dollars have been spent on public diplomacy programs aimed at the Arab world. In 2009, President Barack Obama delivered a landmark speech in Cairo designed to seek “a new beginning between the United States and Muslims around the world.” Two years on, according to the latest polling data in Egypt, unfavorable views of the United States outnumber favorable ones by nearly four to one. With some exceptions, the United States likewise remains unpopular in most majority-Muslim countries from Morocco to Pakistan. Why? And what can be done about it? The information war matters more than the war of bullets. Osama bin Laden is dead, but the real battle that must be won is against his ideas. In such a battle, public communications are key. As events in Tunisia, Egypt, and elsewhere have shown, public opinion can shape the region in surprising ways—ways that affect the United States directly, as prices at the gasoline pumps are showing. For these practical reasons, even aside from motives of common humanity, the United States needs to be engaging with the Arab world more effectively.