The Unipole in Twilight: American Strategy from 9/11 to the Present.

AuthorLogan, Justin

Foreign policy in the United States is like polo: almost entirely an elite sport. The issue rarely figures in national elections. The country is so secure that foreign policy does not affect voters enough to care much. No country is going to annex Hawaii or Maine, so voters are mostly rationally ignorant of the subject. The costs of wars are defrayed through debt, deficits, and the fact that the dying and dismemberment happens in other people's countries. Moreover, the dying and dismemberment of Americans are contained in an all-volunteer force that is powerfully socialized to suffer in silence. (1) Unlike on abortion, the environment, or taxes, elites in both parties mostly agree on national security. Given rational ignorance among the public and general consensus among elites, voters rarely hear serious debates about national-security policy (Friedman and Logan 2016). Their views are mostly incoherent and weakly held.

The terrorist attacks on the United States on September 11, 2001 (9/11) raised the salience of foreign policy. They rocketed President George W. Bush from 51 to 90 percent popularity in the span of fourteen days (Gallup News n.d.). Bush used the wave of approval to pursue an expansive war on terrorism. The United States invaded Afghanistan in October and began planning to attack Iraq. On Bush's coattails and with national-security activism the central theme, Republicans made sizable gains in the 2002 midterm elections. On March 19, 2003, the United States invaded Iraq.

The Iraq War immediately blossomed into a costly disaster. The mission in Afghanistan crept from killing terrorists and punishing those who harbored them into an ambitious nation-building effort that became the longest war in American history. Thousands of American troops were killed, tens of thousands were gravely wounded, and thousands of American contractors were killed. (2) Hundreds of thousands of innocent foreigners perished. The wars cost more than $6 trillion, and the meter is still running (Crawford 2019).

New bureaucracies sprouted, including the Department of Homeland Security and the Office of the Director of National Intelligence. The United States set up a global archipelago of "black sites" where it tortured suspected terrorists. The National Security Agency indiscriminately vacuumed up Americans' electronic communications without legal authorization, then tried to hide this invasion of privacy from the public.

The administrations of Barack Obama and Donald Trump pledged to de-emphasize the Middle East in American foreign policy and pay more attention to China. In 2011, Obama announced a "pivot to Asia," which was quickly rebranded as a "rebalancing" after Middle Eastern countries complained to Washington that they felt marginalized. What wound up happening was something closer to incoherence; the United States kept several fingers stuck in the Middle East pie, while turning toward and puffing up its chest at China. President Obama regime-changed Libya and intervened in the Syrian civil war. Trump kept U.S. troops in Syria, ramped up the drone wars, and ordered the assassination of Iranian general Qassem Soleimani, Iran's most prominent military commander, while he was on a visit to Iraq.

Although many observers may think of the twenty years from 2001 until now as a pivot from a costly effort to reengineer the Middle East to a focus on containing China, the truth is more prosaic. In fact, defense planners had had their eyes on China since the 1990s. Throughout the global war on terror, the central defense-procurement decisions were still being made on the basis of assuming security competition with a major power such as China. There was never an effort to expand the ground forces to the size at which they could hope to decisively win the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.

The Pentagon dramatically expanded the base defense budget, adding a new line item called "Overseas Contingency Operations" (OCO), which were funds earmarked for the wars. This helped the government obscure the costs of their policies (Friedman 2016). In this sense, much of the base budget remained dedicated to suppressing major powers. The OCO budget served as a war budget on top of the defense budget. Overall defense spending nearly doubled from 2001 to 2009 (U.S. Congressional Budget Office 2020, 2).

In the absence of major international or domestic constraints, policy can become extravagant. The period from 2001 to the present represents a promiscuous waste of money, lives, and diplomatic attention, for which almost no one in charge of the policy has paid serious consequences. The implications of this waste are even more severe if the worst-case assumptions about China's growing power that enjoy consensus in Washington are correct. Policies whose costs can be avoided, defrayed, or hidden are likely to be oversupplied.

This paper proceeds in four parts. First, it shows the extent to which defense planners were focused on competition with China--not on the Middle East or small wars--in the 1990s through September 11, 2001. Second, it outlines the initial plans that emerged after the 9/11 attacks through the start of the war in Iraq as well as the public mood and the notable disjuncture between budgetary priorities and policy initiatives during the global war on terror. Third, it discusses the derailment of Bush's freedom doctrine in the years from 2003 to 2009. Fourth, it describes the normalization of perpetual war during the Obama and Trump years, coupled with a restored focus on containing China. In conclusion, it highlights the extent to which the decade and a half following the attacks were a costly waste followed by no accountability. By 2021, Washington planners had returned to an emphasis on China, lost the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, contributed to the collapse of Libya and Syria, and held almost no one accountable for the immense costs of their mistakes. (3)

Searching for an Enemy: The Defense Establishment from 1992 through the 9/11 Attacks

Pentagon planners and leading defense intellectuals spent the period from 1992 to late August 2001 narrowing their sights on what they argued was the next significant security challenge for the United States: China. Though the 1990s were punctuated by the Gulf War and an array of humanitarian interventions, these missions never drove defense planning, much less procurement.

Instead, the Defense Planning Guidance (DPG) of 1992 announced the U.S. intention to "preclude any hostile power from dominating a region critical to our interests," including Europe, East Asia, the Middle East, and Latin America in that category (U.S. Department of Defense 1992). In particular, one draft of the DPG made clear that "we must maintain our status as a military power of the first magnitude" in the Pacific Rim (qtd. in Tyler 1992).

At the same time, internal efforts at transforming the military to compete with China ran into fears among the services about continued budget trimming. According to Defense Secretary Bill Cohen, the army in particular pushed back against efforts at transformation (Boyer 2006). Bill Clinton's first defense secretary, Les Aspin, had argued similarly that justifying Pentagon budgets on the basis of near-term priorities and general disorder and policing was the best way to defend against further cuts (Krepinevich and Watts 2015).

At the highest levels of American politics, China enjoyed broad support. In 2000, Congress approved permanent normal trade relations with China, and in 2001 China achieved permanent "most-favored nation" status. These developments in trade policy helped fuel explosive economic growth in China and along with that growth significant increases in Chinese military power. This combination of economic engagement and military containment posed an important, neglected conundrum for American leaders: if China needed to be contained, why fuel its growth by trading with it (Logan 2013)? But beginning in 2001 China was pushed from the headlines for more than a decade.

"Sweep It All Up": The 9/11 Attacks through the Start of the Iraq War

China was bumped far from the front burner, arguably off the stove, by the terrorist attacks the morning of September 11, 2001. The most immediate effect of the attacks was that all of society came to be filtered through the lens of the new fear of terrorism. Clear Channel, the large radio station corporation, circulated a list of songs it encouraged deejays not to play, including "Cities in Dust" by Siouxsie and the Banshees and Rage against the Machine's entire catalog (Sharp 2018). Cable news stations played video montages of the destruction for weeks after the attack, festooned with slogans such as "America's New War" or "A Nation United."

Every aspect of politics, no matter how mundane, became about terrorism. In a speech to the National Cattlemen's Beef Association in February 2002, George W. Bush memorably explained the importance of the beef industry to national security: "It's in our national security interests that we be able to feed ourselves. Thank goodness we don't have to rely on somebody else's meat to make sure our people are healthy and well fed" (Bush 2002b, 194). Few figures in American politics saw anything amiss.

The president repeatedly used religious imagery to describe international politics. In announcing the war on terror to Congress, Bush declared that "[t]he course of this conflict is not known, yet its outcome is certain. Freedom and fear, justice and cruelty, have always been at war, and we know that God is not neutral between them" (Bush 2001, 1144). Representing freedom and justice, the United States could count God on its side, if not Rage against the Machine.

The speed with which policy moved was striking. One week after the attacks, Congress approved a...

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