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The
strange mixture of munitions-missiles,
bombs, food and medical kits-now raining
down on Afghanistan amply testify to the
complexities of the "new world" and
the new kind of war in which Americans
find themselves-important dimensions of
which have not been disclosed, perhaps
not as yet determined..
The
only needed justification for air strikes on
Osama bin Laden in Afghanistan is provided
by his network's sneak attacks on the World
Trade Center and the Pentagon on September
11, causing the murders of thousands of innocent
Americans. But most of the Afghan refugees
for whom those aid kits are being dropped also
are innocent.
The causes of this unusual war are clear and
convincing to most of the world-including some
Arab and Muslim nations. But if Americans are
therefore united in a just cause, that doesn't
yet provide real escape or much knowledge about
a world that bodes so little good for anyone-only
the possibility of new terrorist attacks, more
retaliation, heightened insecurity everywhere.
Nor is there a silver lining to this dark
cloud of uncertainty and fear, which seems
likely to hover over the nation perhaps for
years. Only two faint rays of light are immediately
visible:
Those millions
of Americans who were not alive on Pearl
Harbor day in 1941, and the millions
more who don't even remember Vietnam, who had
reason to believe the Gulf War the worst that
could be expected, have been rudely but usefully
disabused of whatever naiveté the economic
decline may have left them.
Americans of
all ages who until September 11 shared a
basic isolationism, taking little
interest in other peoples and places, save
vacation destinations, have been forced into
a sort of "crash course" in comparative
cultures, histories and especially religions-notably
Islam.
Now that war
actually is under way, it's imperative that
the American people should know all that
is being done in their name, what risks are
being run, which expectations that may have
been raised actually can be met. Just as one
example of such expectations, President Bush
would be on safer ground if he stopped talking
about eliminating "evil" and eradicating "evil-doers" from
the world.
All the godly
leaders and nations of the millennia have
not achieved such a lofty goal, and it's
unlikely that even Americans, or any President,
can or will. Besides, not all evil is terrorism,
after all; and all terrorism is not necessarily "evil"-the
kind, for example, practiced by partisans against
Nazi invaders in World War II. The terrorism
that murders innocents for an abstract cause
is indeed "evil" within Bush's meaning;
but can even that really be "eliminated" from
what Kofi Annan rightly called a "messy
world"?
To his credit,
the President has been painfully candid about
the difficulties the nation surely
faces: finding Osama bin Laden, for instance,
and how long actual hostilities might have
to be maintained. No longer can anyone be under
the illusion that quick and relatively painless "victory," as
in the Gulf War a decade ago, can be achieved
in this "war on terrorism."
The administration's customary restraint has
slipped, however, at least twice: once when
Bush tried to limit essential information to
designated members of Congress, a co-equal
branch of government-an effort from which he
quickly retreated-and again when his national
security assistant asked the television networks
to censor any future tapes of remarks by Osama
bin Laden.
The networks unwisely agreed, on ostensibly
patriotic grounds, thus assuring that the rest
of the world will hear exactly what the master
terrorist says while his American targets will
get only a sanitized version-and suggesting
that the Bush administration is all too willing
to limit information when citizens at war need
to know their enemy, not to be frightened of
him or them, or encouraged by Washington in
such fear.
Network acquiescence
was an early symptom of the kind of "wartime mentality" of
which Americans, even in such an unprecedented
war as this, should be wary. In wartime, whether
against Japanese or Germans or Koreans or Viet
Cong or Saddam Hussein or terrorists-in wartime,
even without the usual rationing, blackouts,
shortages and conscription, it's easy to believe
that "anything goes" in the national
effort to defeat a villainous enemy before
he can defeat us. Lawbreaking, suspensions
of rights, secrecy, internal spying-virtually
any outrage unthinkable in peacetime can be
accepted in wartime, in the belief that it's
necessary to save the nation, or perhaps one's
own family.
Sometimes it may be. During the Civil War,
Abraham Lincoln suspended the writ of habeas
corpus in some areas. He also freed the slaves,
which many Americans thought he had no constitutional
power to do. It's a citizen's duty-and pre-eminently
a government's and a President's-even in wartime
to judge whether any such extreme procedure
really is necessary for victory. Was it necessary
during World War II, for the most notorious
example, to intern the American Nisei in what
amounted to concentration camps?
A wartime mentality can generate extreme individual
beliefs as well as extreme government procedures.
Reports already are surfacing about vigilante
actions, in one case including murder, against
people assumed to be Arabs or Muslims-or anyway
non-Americans or non-Christians-and who just
might be, in vigilante fantasy, terrorists,
traitors or Osama bin Laden sympathizers.
Such vigilantism
is to be deplored and usually will be prosecuted.
But it's obviously possible
that a general, non-criminal American hostility
now could arise toward anyone or everyone with
a Middle Eastern passport, or wearing a turban,
or entering a mosque, or sporting a long Osama-like
beard, or having an "el" or an "al" in
his or her name, or reading the Koran. That
would be more than unfortunate because, no
matter what militant Islamists in other countries
may claim, this is not a war against Islam.
Washington is not holding Islam responsible
for terrorism, nor is Islam an enemy-certainly
not an adversary the American people should
stereotype, then hate or condemn or deride.
In a conventional war against a nation-state,
patriotic and family sentiment can build into
hatred, stimulated or at least aided by official
propaganda and intemperate media-just as, during
the 1940s, Americans and Japanese were easily
aroused or goaded into almost pathological
hatred for each other, and Americans of the
time made little distinction between Germans
and Nazis.
That probably
will not be the case in this highly unconventional
war, with no specific
nation as "the enemy." Poverty-stricken
Afghanistan hardly qualifies, and might not
at all, as the President has made clear, if
it stops harboring Osama bin Laden's terrorists.
At the same
time, the bizarre nature of a war not focused
on a specific country may provoke
generalized but unwarranted hatreds, or even
lead to a long-term East-West division, or
to Christian-Muslim enmity, or-what was already
too likely even before September 11-to hostile
relations between industrialized and less-advanced
societies, affluent and poor peoples, "modern" and "traditional" cultures.
Americans must
be careful, in these circumstances, not to
let their well known "exceptionalism" become
mere arrogance. For many people of other countries,
other cultures-probably including the kamikaze
terrorists of September 11-what they already
consider American arrogance is among the reasons
they hate America, however irrationally.
Sheltered for
so long by its oceans, blessed still with
an abundance of resources, inhabited
by an industrious and ingenious people, the
United States indeed has been fortunate, and
largely worthy of its good fortune. A major
response to the cataclysmic events of September
11 has been the outpouring of generosity, resolve
and a new sense of unity-but also a flood of
self-praise: orotund tributes to "this
great and good people" and ringing rhetoric
about the "aroused giant" who will "come
back stronger than ever," combined with
dire threats about punishment of the misguided
persons who foolishly stirred up the blameless
giant.
This was expectable,
after the shattering blows of September 11,
and no doubt what most
Americans wanted and needed to hear-fulsome
reassurances to counter fears, restore morale
and spark national determination. Like any
other people, Americans needed "bucking
up" in a severe and unexpected crisis.
That suggests, however, that they are not quite
so exceptional as they sometimes claim but
are instead, much like many other peoples-Londoners
in the World War II blitz, for example, or
any number of populations that have bravely
dealt with floods, earthquakes and other natural
disasters in a spirit of community.
Perhaps the primary question Americans ought
to be putting to themselves is this: What do
we do after we capture or kill Osama bin Laden
and punish the Taliban for harboring him?
Many would say-including, apparently, some
in the administration-that the US should then,
or sooner, go on to pulverize Iraq and Iran,
maybe even turn its missiles on Syria and Libya,
and any other country that hides what Washington
believes are terrorists. Certainly, if any
other nation is reasonably considered responsible
for overt acts as horrendous as those of September
11, perhaps no President could restrain, if
he would, public outrage and pressures to respond.
Without evidence
of such acts, however, the justification
Americans can rightly feel for
striking back at Osama bin Laden would be greatly
diminished, if it did not disappear, by expansion
of the war. Such attacks would be much like "racial
profiling." What's the difference, after
all, between "they probably harbor terrorists
so let's hit them before they hit us," on
the one hand, and "theyíre black
so let's arrest them before they can commit
crimes," on the other?
So far, beyond
expansive claims for the "war
on terrorism," the Bush administration
has been careful not to suggest specifics on
how or whether it might carry the war to suspected
countries. Nor does the President's general
restraint since September 11 suggest that,
absent convincing evidence of responsibility
for overt acts, he would order an extended
war.
That would
be contrary to the best of American history
and would sharpen the already widespread
Islamic belief that the war on terrorism really
is a war on Islam. Also, in the eyes of much
of the world and of many Americans, a "preventive" war,
even based on solid suspicion, would confound
the rule of law-the belief in and the upholding
of which is a vital element of the American
values the US expounds to the nations. As George
W. Bush ponders a frightening new world and
how best, beyond Afghanistan, to cope with
it, he could take a cue from President Dwight
Eisenhower. Recalling for his memoirs a decade
later why he had not ordered US intervention
in the French war in Vietnam in 1954, "Ike" wrote
that he had tried to preserve "an asset
of incalculable value-essential to our position
of leadership in the world-the moral position
of the United States was more to be guarded
than the Tonkin Delta, indeed than all of Indochina."
Unfortunately,
the US "moral position" had
begun to be tarnished long before Eisenhower
wrote those words. But in 1945, at the end
of World War II (the "good war" in
which Eisenhower had done so much to establish
US "leadership in the world"), his
country was undoubtedly the most respected
of nations. Its "moral position," the
basis of that respect, was the world's idea
of America-a powerful idea based on the Declaration
of Independence, the Constitution, observance
of the rule of law and the freedom and rights
of men, the writings of Jefferson and Lincoln,
FDR's promotion of "the Four Freedoms." America
at mid-century, with all its flaws, was the
foremost exponent of democratic values, the
pre-eminent spokesman for independence and
national self-determination, for justice under
law; America was the "last best hope of
earth," in Lincoln's phrase, with which
much of the rest of the world agreed.
The cold war
chipped away at that idea of America, perhaps
inevitably, as Presidents
beginning with Harry Truman-and including Eisenhower-thought
they had to turn to power, and did, to enforce
a position that had been achieved by an idea.
It was a difficult choice, but one with which,
over the decades, few Americans disagreed,
believing-as the times seemed to indicate-that
only fire could fight fire, only power meet
power. In the end, the "free world" stayed
mostly free-but at the immense cost of that "moral
position" so nearly lost, that idea of
America that the uses of power could neither
project nor sustain.
Now the cold
war is over and, as our politicians endlessly
remind us, there's only one "superpower." Once
it has "eliminated" Osama bin Laden
and his network, therefore, the Bush administration-instead
of making new wars on more countries-will have
an opportunity to rebuild America's "moral
position," to make her once again the
world's symbol of freedom, democracy and the
rule of law. That cannot be done by holding
hands with repressive regimes, ignoring the
plight of exploited peoples, flaunting a tinsel
prosperity or aiming missiles at a threatening
world. A restored idea of America as the land
of the free-not the power of its military-will
most effectively prevent the kind of evil that
struck the nation on September 11.
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