welsh
Junkmaster
Ok, so how is the war on terrorism doing?
Is finding Osama kind of like "where's waldo?"
Here's a news flash-
Al-Qaeda
Still out there
Jan 8th 2004
From The Economist print edition
http://www.economist.com/opinion/PrinterFriendly.cfm?Story_ID=2330153
Some victories have been won in the West's war against al-Qaeda. But the danger persists
LIKE a pantomime villain, the man who is once again the world's most wanted fugitive has re-appeared on the global stage just when it looked as if the plot might be taking a turn for the better. Another taped rant against Crusaders, Zionists and apostate Muslim rulers, purportedly delivered by Osama bin Laden, reminded America and its allies that the enemy who preoccupied them before the war in Iraq remains bent on their downfall. The cancellation and delay of flights to the United States from France, Britain and Mexico has also helped to deflate the festive optimism brought on by Saddam Hussein's capture. Ditto this week's introduction of what in bygone times would have seemed draconian security measures at American airports, rows about whether planes should carry armed guards, and worries about “dirty” bombs. And from Iraq to Israel, Istanbul to Islamabad, growing numbers of people are blowing themselves up for fanatical ends (see article).
In fact, the ongoing disruption to international air travel contains good news as well as bad. It suggests that western intelligence services have a handle on the plots the terrorists are hatching. At the same time, the inconvenience caused to passengers, and the disagreement among governments that have resulted, point up the havoc that terrorists can cause, even if those plots are scotched or spectral. In a similar sort of way, the war against al-Qaeda as a whole offers both good and bad news, progress and peril. It is likely to stay that way: this is not a war that can be ended by toppling a statue.
The view from the White House, and from the caves
With the pride that can go before a fall, George Bush's administration regularly and confidently asserts that it is winning the “war on terror”—and not without some justification. The invasion of Afghanistan denied al-Qaeda its sanctuary. More than two-thirds of its known senior leadership, say the Americans, have been captured or killed. Globally, more than 3,000 al-Qaeda operatives have been (as the Americans put it) “incapacitated”. Terrorist cells have been disrupted across Europe, and some previously recalcitrant countries seem finally to be co-operating in the hunt. In the case of Saudi Arabia, that is partly because, by targeting Muslim Saudis, Mr bin Laden's cadre has made what may turn out to be a strategic misjudgment. All of this has made it more difficult for al-Qaeda to move its men and cash around.
In America itself, chastened spies have pulled their socks up. Ports and borders are better protected than they were, and the emergency services better prepared to respond should the bomber (or germ-warrior) get through. So far, these precautions seem to be paying off. Since September 11th, al-Qaeda and its affiliates have struck repeatedly at “soft” (ie, civilian) targets in Turkey, Morocco, Kenya and elsewhere. But there have been no attacks on the catastrophic scale of the World Trade Centre, and none in mainland America or in America's key western allies. The erosion of a few civil liberties and a few cross airline passengers, Mr Bush might argue, are small prices to pay for this relative tranquillity.
But now imagine that you are Mr bin Laden. You may feel that you have just as many reasons to be cheerful. You have struck the hyperpower in its heartland. You have sown fear and discord in the West. True, you were put to flight in Afghanistan, but your friends are far from beaten even there. In Iraq, America has deposed an apostate, with a number of satisfying results. The infidels are leaving Saudi Arabia, answering your chief political grievance, a much more important one to you than the plight of the Palestinians—a cause, however, that you continue to exploit. America's popularity in the Muslim world has plummeted. Things may change if Iraq emerges as a model Arab democracy, but for now, in some Muslim countries, more people say they have faith in your conduct of world affairs than in Mr Bush's. Your associates can still raise and distribute more than enough money to fund their inexpensive operations. And neither you nor your most important aide, Ayman al-Zawahiri, has been killed or apprehended. You may be incapacitated and sometimes incommunicado, but you remain a powerful totem of jihadi resistance.
Perhaps skulking in a cave on the Afghan-Pakistani border, Mr bin Laden might also reflect that al-Qaeda enjoys two strategic advantages over its enemies. One is its diffuseness. Even before the loss of its Afghan base, al-Qaeda was not an organisation in a conventional sense: Mr bin Laden operated more like a venture capitalist than a CEO, sponsoring operations with varying degrees of control. Since then, the alumni of his Afghan camps—perhaps numbering in the tens of thousands—have dispersed across the globe, forming their own more or less autonomous units. Some of the bombings committed under the al-Qaeda banner may take little more than inspiration from Mr bin Laden himself. Nobody really knows how large that loose network is, nor whether it is growing or shrinking.
A different kind of war
Al-Qaeda's other strategic advantage is its philosophy of time. As the typically obscure references in the latest tape illustrate, Mr bin Laden and his sort take a long view of history, lamenting the reconquest of Andalucia in 1492 as well as more recent “offences”. They are impatient for the advent of the global caliphate; but they can also wait. They plan meticulously and nurture their aspirations—such as the destruction of the World Trade Centre, and the use of planes as weapons—for years. Given that, the world should draw little comfort from the fact that it has so far been spared another September 11th.
Since al-Qaeda is less a concrete adversary than a movement or an ideology, any war waged against it must be equally subtle. “Incapacitation” has its place, but so do public diplomacy in the Muslim world and conflict resolution in the Middle East and beyond—both less in evidence. A “war on terror” in general makes even less sense. It suits Russia's Vladimir Putin and Israel's Ariel Sharon, for example, to portray their battles with Chechen and Palestinian terrorists as part of a global struggle; but these and many other campaigns involve mainly local issues. Most terrorists, moreover, still operate within self-imposed constraints, whereas Mr bin Laden regards the acquisition of weapons of mass destruction as a religious duty. Lumping these threats together under the general rubric of a “war on terror” makes them harder to address.
Another part of the anti-al-Qaeda strategy ought to be the education of western publics. Talk of a “war” itself encourages people to believe in a clear and not-too-distant victory, whereas the apocalyptic spirit of al-Qaeda may be around for decades. “Terror”—which is, after all, a technique rather than an army—will stalk the world forever. It is tricky for anyone not privy to the intelligence that informed the grounding of flights this week to assess whether it justified the alarm and inconvenience that were caused. But the public would be able to cope better with such trials if it understood that the al-Qaeda peril is one with which it will have to learn to live for the foreseeable future—and which, unfortunately, will occasionally inflict more than just inconvenience. Some phlegmatic European officials whisper that their American counterparts have become overly risk-averse, believing that they can see off every threat that may arise. That is unlikely to be possible.
Is finding Osama kind of like "where's waldo?"
Here's a news flash-
Al-Qaeda
Still out there
Jan 8th 2004
From The Economist print edition
http://www.economist.com/opinion/PrinterFriendly.cfm?Story_ID=2330153
Some victories have been won in the West's war against al-Qaeda. But the danger persists
LIKE a pantomime villain, the man who is once again the world's most wanted fugitive has re-appeared on the global stage just when it looked as if the plot might be taking a turn for the better. Another taped rant against Crusaders, Zionists and apostate Muslim rulers, purportedly delivered by Osama bin Laden, reminded America and its allies that the enemy who preoccupied them before the war in Iraq remains bent on their downfall. The cancellation and delay of flights to the United States from France, Britain and Mexico has also helped to deflate the festive optimism brought on by Saddam Hussein's capture. Ditto this week's introduction of what in bygone times would have seemed draconian security measures at American airports, rows about whether planes should carry armed guards, and worries about “dirty” bombs. And from Iraq to Israel, Istanbul to Islamabad, growing numbers of people are blowing themselves up for fanatical ends (see article).
In fact, the ongoing disruption to international air travel contains good news as well as bad. It suggests that western intelligence services have a handle on the plots the terrorists are hatching. At the same time, the inconvenience caused to passengers, and the disagreement among governments that have resulted, point up the havoc that terrorists can cause, even if those plots are scotched or spectral. In a similar sort of way, the war against al-Qaeda as a whole offers both good and bad news, progress and peril. It is likely to stay that way: this is not a war that can be ended by toppling a statue.
The view from the White House, and from the caves
With the pride that can go before a fall, George Bush's administration regularly and confidently asserts that it is winning the “war on terror”—and not without some justification. The invasion of Afghanistan denied al-Qaeda its sanctuary. More than two-thirds of its known senior leadership, say the Americans, have been captured or killed. Globally, more than 3,000 al-Qaeda operatives have been (as the Americans put it) “incapacitated”. Terrorist cells have been disrupted across Europe, and some previously recalcitrant countries seem finally to be co-operating in the hunt. In the case of Saudi Arabia, that is partly because, by targeting Muslim Saudis, Mr bin Laden's cadre has made what may turn out to be a strategic misjudgment. All of this has made it more difficult for al-Qaeda to move its men and cash around.
In America itself, chastened spies have pulled their socks up. Ports and borders are better protected than they were, and the emergency services better prepared to respond should the bomber (or germ-warrior) get through. So far, these precautions seem to be paying off. Since September 11th, al-Qaeda and its affiliates have struck repeatedly at “soft” (ie, civilian) targets in Turkey, Morocco, Kenya and elsewhere. But there have been no attacks on the catastrophic scale of the World Trade Centre, and none in mainland America or in America's key western allies. The erosion of a few civil liberties and a few cross airline passengers, Mr Bush might argue, are small prices to pay for this relative tranquillity.
But now imagine that you are Mr bin Laden. You may feel that you have just as many reasons to be cheerful. You have struck the hyperpower in its heartland. You have sown fear and discord in the West. True, you were put to flight in Afghanistan, but your friends are far from beaten even there. In Iraq, America has deposed an apostate, with a number of satisfying results. The infidels are leaving Saudi Arabia, answering your chief political grievance, a much more important one to you than the plight of the Palestinians—a cause, however, that you continue to exploit. America's popularity in the Muslim world has plummeted. Things may change if Iraq emerges as a model Arab democracy, but for now, in some Muslim countries, more people say they have faith in your conduct of world affairs than in Mr Bush's. Your associates can still raise and distribute more than enough money to fund their inexpensive operations. And neither you nor your most important aide, Ayman al-Zawahiri, has been killed or apprehended. You may be incapacitated and sometimes incommunicado, but you remain a powerful totem of jihadi resistance.
Perhaps skulking in a cave on the Afghan-Pakistani border, Mr bin Laden might also reflect that al-Qaeda enjoys two strategic advantages over its enemies. One is its diffuseness. Even before the loss of its Afghan base, al-Qaeda was not an organisation in a conventional sense: Mr bin Laden operated more like a venture capitalist than a CEO, sponsoring operations with varying degrees of control. Since then, the alumni of his Afghan camps—perhaps numbering in the tens of thousands—have dispersed across the globe, forming their own more or less autonomous units. Some of the bombings committed under the al-Qaeda banner may take little more than inspiration from Mr bin Laden himself. Nobody really knows how large that loose network is, nor whether it is growing or shrinking.
A different kind of war
Al-Qaeda's other strategic advantage is its philosophy of time. As the typically obscure references in the latest tape illustrate, Mr bin Laden and his sort take a long view of history, lamenting the reconquest of Andalucia in 1492 as well as more recent “offences”. They are impatient for the advent of the global caliphate; but they can also wait. They plan meticulously and nurture their aspirations—such as the destruction of the World Trade Centre, and the use of planes as weapons—for years. Given that, the world should draw little comfort from the fact that it has so far been spared another September 11th.
Since al-Qaeda is less a concrete adversary than a movement or an ideology, any war waged against it must be equally subtle. “Incapacitation” has its place, but so do public diplomacy in the Muslim world and conflict resolution in the Middle East and beyond—both less in evidence. A “war on terror” in general makes even less sense. It suits Russia's Vladimir Putin and Israel's Ariel Sharon, for example, to portray their battles with Chechen and Palestinian terrorists as part of a global struggle; but these and many other campaigns involve mainly local issues. Most terrorists, moreover, still operate within self-imposed constraints, whereas Mr bin Laden regards the acquisition of weapons of mass destruction as a religious duty. Lumping these threats together under the general rubric of a “war on terror” makes them harder to address.
Another part of the anti-al-Qaeda strategy ought to be the education of western publics. Talk of a “war” itself encourages people to believe in a clear and not-too-distant victory, whereas the apocalyptic spirit of al-Qaeda may be around for decades. “Terror”—which is, after all, a technique rather than an army—will stalk the world forever. It is tricky for anyone not privy to the intelligence that informed the grounding of flights this week to assess whether it justified the alarm and inconvenience that were caused. But the public would be able to cope better with such trials if it understood that the al-Qaeda peril is one with which it will have to learn to live for the foreseeable future—and which, unfortunately, will occasionally inflict more than just inconvenience. Some phlegmatic European officials whisper that their American counterparts have become overly risk-averse, believing that they can see off every threat that may arise. That is unlikely to be possible.
