Category: Daniel Serwer
The Superbowl and American foreign policy
That’s patriot Lady Gaga for those like me who wouldn’t recognize her on the subway.
While you were all enjoying the Superbowl, I was wondering what it tells us about US foreign policy. I’m late with this post, but it took me time to convince myself to publish it. Some of you will think I made a mistake.
First the obvious. American football is a sport in which bringing overwhelming force to bear is paramount. Many American politicians feel the same way about foreign policy: they want to bomb the smithereens out of anyone who threatens the United States. Finesse, so important to that other sport known as “football,” is the least of their concerns. Making the sand glow and wiping out enemies are the goals.
But of course that is a superficial view of events both on the battlefield and on the gridiron. There is a cerebral dimension to both, one that requires coordination between different players on the field, offense and defense as well as “special teams,” analogous in more than their name to the vital “special forces” that now dominate the American approach to killing terrorists. The ground and air games also require careful coordination, in both football and war, as well as a lot of intelligence on the opposition.
The parallels extend to the audience as well. Both American football and modern war are best viewed from a distance. Even the half-time show is far more interesting on TV than in the stadium, where many of the special effects appear piddling. Nor can you see all that much of the game, unless you’ve got terrific seats. TV has learned to make warfare look spectacular too. You can’t smell it or hear how loud and terrifying it is. But you can admire its precision without worrying about its accuracy.
The long-term effects of football and war bear comparison as well. Both cause real and visible harm to some of the participants, but they cause far more but less visible harm to many more. I’m amazed that people are still watching football knowing its effect on the players’ brains and life spans. Its popularity sheds new light for me on the Roman passion for gladiators. Post-traumatic stress and suicide are the analogous long-term effects of warfare. They should certainly be weighed in any future decision to go to war, though I doubt they will be. Our political leaders show little more concern for the brains of our troops than football coaches show for the brains of their players.
There is really nothing glorious about war or football. Nor are they proper entertainments. War it can be argued is sometimes necessary, or unavoidable. Football isn’t. There the already stretched analogy breaks down.
Dire
Iraq’s Kurdistan Region is making noises about conducting a referendum soon to decide its political future. A drafting committee is working on the wording of the proposition. President Barzani and his PDK are committed to conducting the referendum this year.
Whatever the wording, Kurdistan’s largely young Kurdish population will understand it to be about independence. Ditto the large Kurdish diaspora, which referendum advocates want to enfranchise. Most of Kurdistan’s now substantial Arab population of people displaced by war will not be able to vote.
The outcome is predictable: 90% and likely more will vote yes, whatever the precise wording.
The case for Kurdistan’s independence is on the face of it compelling. Saddam Hussein’s regime mistreated its population, chasing Kurds from their homes and even out of the country. Kurds were even gassed during the 1988 Anfal campaign. Kurdistan won a large measure of autonomy in the 2005 Iraqi constitution, but the relationship between Baghdad and Erbil has been at best rocky since then. The Kurdistan Regional Government (KRG) has not received all the oil revenue it is entitled to, it has had to defend its own territory from the Islamic State without help from Baghdad and it faces demands from its population, most of whom no longer speak Arabic, for complete independence. The KRG claims to be a democracy and to treat minorities well.
So why shouldn’t it happen?
The geopolitical circumstances are not favorable. While Kurdistan has vastly improved its relations with Ankara, large parts of eastern Turkey were slated at the end of World War I to become part of a Kurdish state. Turkey will not want to see independence for its southern neighbor while it represses a violent Kurdish rebellion on its own territory, for fear of the irredentist consequences. Iranians feel even more strongly on this issue: what the Kurds call “eastern Kurdistan” is inside the Islamic Republic. Iran’s population is not much more than 50% Persian. Tehran will fear the Kurds won’t be the only ones looking to get out. The Baloch have been rebelling since 2004.
Iraqi Kurds naturally look to the Americans for support. Washington was vital to their survival in the 90s, when it protected them with a no-fly zone in northern Iraq. The Kurds supported the 2003 American invasion of Iraq and happily hosted American forces. The KRG has welcomed Iraqi Christians displaced by ISIS and maintains friendly relations with the US, even welcoming American investment and admitting Americans without the visas the Baghdad government requires. My Kurdish friends ask plaintively: don’t the Americans want a new friendly ally in the Middle East? One with at least a nominal commitment to multiethnic democracy?
Washington might, but it has global concerns, which include maintaining the sovereignty and territorial integrity of Georgia, Ukraine and Moldova, where Moscow is supporting breakaway territories in each of those countries. Independence for Kurdistan would open the proverbial Pandora’s box, strengthening Russian arguments and undermining the international consensus that has formed against independence for South Ossetia and Abkhazia, the annexation of Crimea and the rebellion in Donetsk and Luhansk, as well as the aspirations of Transnistria. China will be no less opposed to Kurdistan’s independence than the Americans, for fear of the implications for Tibet.
Even inside Iraq, there are issues. The boundaries of Iraqi Kurdistan are not agreed. While the KRG seized the so-called “disputed territories” during its offensive against the Islamic State in 2014, Baghdad has not agreed that they belong within Kurdistan. The KRG is offering to conduct referenda in these territories on whether they want to join with Kurdistan, fulfilling a provision of the Iraqi constitution. But doing that while the KRG is in control is unlikely to convince Baghdad that a free choice is being made.
At current oil prices around $30/barrel, the KRG is nowhere near having the financial resources to be independent. Baghdad isn’t providing the funding it should, but independence would leave Kurdistan even worse off. It is still an oil rentier state, despite its hopes for a more diversified economy. My guess is that oil prices in the future will have a hard time going over $70-80/barrel, because above that level massive quantities of unconventionally produced oil and gas (as well as other alternatives) will come on line. The KRG needs closer to $100/barrel to meet its financial requirements with oil production even well above current levels.
Advocates of an independence referendum are claiming that it would be prelude to a re-negotiation of the relationship with Baghdad, not necessarily a one-way street to independence. Anyone who knows young Kurds will doubt that after voting for what they think of as independence they will accept some sort of confederal arrangement to stay nominally inside Iraq. An independence referendum is far more likely to be prelude to still another war, in which Arabs (both Sunni and Shia) fight Kurds to determine the borders they have failed to agree on for more than a decade.
The implications of a referendum without prior agreement, both on the legitimacy of the process and on Kurdistan’s borders, are dire.
Assad is fulfilling his own prophecy
With Syrian government and Iranian forces encircling Aleppo aided by Russian air attacks, it behooves us to consider what happens if President Assad wins. He is close to achieving his main goal by taking control of what he regards as “useful” Syria, which includes the corridor north from Damascus at least to Aleppo and west to Lebanon and the Mediterranean.
This Assad victory would not defeat ISIS, which controls territory to the east of this corridor, or the Kurdish forces that control most of the border with Turkey. Neither ISIS nor the Kurds have clashed more than occasionally with Syrian government forces, the Iranians and Russians. The Kurds appear to have an explicit understanding with the regime, which maintains government facilities within Kurdish-controlled territory. The regime and ISIS stay out of each other’s way.
Aleppo was once the largest city in Syria, with more than 2 million inhabitants. How many remain is unclear. Tens of thousands have fled in recent days north to the Turkish border, where they are blocked from entering. Many more presumably remain in the city, some in areas that have long been regime-controlled. If the encirclement of opposition areas is successful, they face starvation, bombardment and eventual surrender. Large parts of the city are already destroyed.
Idlib, to the soutwest of Aleppo, is also under attack and at risk of being cut off from Aleppo and from Turkey.

Judging from what has occurred elsewhere, there will be little effort to rebuild, except in areas dominated by or repopulated with Alawites and Shia. Syria’s Sunnis and others who have opposed Assad will be left to fend for themselves. Neither Russia nor Iran has provided significant reconstruction aid, the bill for which will be well over $100 billion. The Europeans, Americans and Gulf have provided most of the humanitarian assistance, relying in part on the United Nations, but they will presumably be unwilling to pay for reconstruction in areas where the regime regains control.
With moderate rebel forces defeated in the north, the odds are that the extremist forces of Jabhat al Nusra (JN), an Al Qaeda affiliate, and the Islamic State (ISIS) will gain. JN cadres appear to be mainly Syrian. ISIS is not. We should expect that whatever moderate Syrian forces remain will ally with JN, which will continue to fight. ISIS relies heavily on foreign fighters and is much less likely to attract many Syrians. Kurdish and allied Arab forces have been pressing south towards Raqqa, which is the de facto “capital” of the ISIS caliphate, but taking the city would require a far bigger Arab force than appears to exist right now.
In the south, moderate forces are holding up a bit better, but they have not come under the same kind of intensive regime, Russian and Iranian assault mounted around Aleppo. ISIS has been active in a small part of the south, but so far without any big success. It remains to be seen what will happen there.
A regime takeover of Aleppo and Idlib will end any serious military prospects for the moderate non-Kurdish opposition, except in the Azaz pocket near the border with Turkey. Even there, the Kurds and regime, Iranian and Russian forces may combine to push them out and force displaced Arabs into Turkey. Assad would be glad to add to Erdogan’s woes.
Assad has long wanted the contest in Syria to be seen as a fight between his regime and the extremists. He is getting close to driving the relative moderates off the battlefield, fulfilling his own prophecy. The consequences for many Syrians, for Turkey and for the prospects for peace will be disastrous.
What to do when peace talks stall
The Syria peace talks stalled even faster than I might have predicted, though I wasn’t sanguine about their success. The reason for the suspension is all too clear: the Syrian army is making headway in north Latakia, around Aleppo and elsewhere, with vigorous support from Russian air strikes as well as Hizbollah ground forces and Iranian Revolutionary Guard Corps “advisors” (more like commanders). President Assad and his allies see no reason to halt the offensive. The Syrian opposition, which had asked at the talks for an end to air strikes and opening up of humanitarian access, sees no reason to talk while its people are getting slaughtered. Those of us who said this conflict was not “ripe” for peace talks, which includes almost everyone knowledgeable about the situation, were right.
That is little comfort. Nor does it mean the UN was wrong to try.
It is the UN’s role in today’s world order to take on cases no one else wants touch. That’s how it ended up with Libya, Yemen and Syria. The Americans and Europeans left Libya to its own devices, which sufficed for a while but then proved unequal to the state-building challenge. Now there is an agreement of sorts, but no implementation. The Houthis and Saudis wrecked a four-year peace process in Yemen, based on a Gulf Cooperation Council agreement and UN mediation, with military action. A recent effort to reinitiate talks has been postponed until at least late this month. Syria has already seen two failed UN efforts to end the war–Geneva I and II they are called–to no avail. Geneva III looks likely to fail too. Let’s hope they don’t catch up with the Superbowl numbering.
These stalled peace processes are bad for Libyans, Yemenis and Syrians, but they don’t have much say in the matter. Civilians are today the most frequent victims of war, as the contestants are so often vying for power within a state rather than trying to defeat the regular military forces of another state. Moving civilians, or persuading them to accept your rule, is therefore the objective, not an unintended consequence. It is far less perilous to guys with guns (yes most of them are guys, though not always all) to go after unarmed civilians, or even armed insurgents, than to contest another state’s armed forces.
The only real beneficiaries of continued fighting in Libya, Yemen and Syria are likely to be the extremist forces affiliated with Al Qaeda and the Islamic State. They thrive on disorder–areas that have witnessed chaos are more likely to accept their draconian rule–and the extremists often fill the vacuum as states concentrate their efforts against less extreme insurgents. The one thing we can be pretty sure of from the experience of fighting extremists since 9/11 is that attacking them from the air without establishing order on the ground thereafter ensures that we will have to roll Sisyphus’ rock up the hill once again. And with each iteration the extremists get bolder, smarter and more lethal.
We are all too clearly losing the war against violent extremism. We should be thinking hard about whether the means we are using are appropriate to the task. Washington’s purpose should be to eliminate safe havens for extremists who might strike Americans. Drones have dinstinct advantages. They keep their operators safe while killing bad guys, but they can’t reestablish governance on territory from which extremists have been driven. Only legitimate state authorities can do that. It is time to refocus our attention on where they are going to come from.
Stalled talks are an opportunity. The warring parties in Libya, Yemen and Syria as well as their international supporters should be thinking hard about how these countries will be governed once the killing has stopped. Both the fighting and the peacemaking are worthless without an answer to that question.
The US, Europe and Iran
Umid Niayesh from Azerbaijan’s Trend news agency asked some good questions today regarding Iran-West ties in post-sanctions period. I answered.
Q: What do you think about the doctrine of “the West minus the United States,” which is followed by conservatives in Iran, in particular by Khamenei? Can it be a successful approach?
A: As the US is maintaining more sanctions (not imposed because of the nuclear issue), it is natural that the EU will move ahead faster. The EU also has a much stronger interest in Iranian energy resources.
Q: May the EU gradually replace China and Russia in Iran’s market in short term following removal of sanctions?
A: China is a major customer for Iran’s energy resources and a major supplier as well. Russia is far less important. There are many areas in which Iranians will prefer EU technology and investment over Russian competitors.
Q: May developing Iran-EU ties also lead to improving political ties? Can it also help to Iran-US ties?
A: The US will handle its own political ties with Iran. It is hesitant because of Iranian subversion in the Gulf states, human rights abuses and threats against Israel. The EU appears less reluctant.
Q: Iranian officials repeatedly say that Iran is open for economic ties with US, including presence of US businessmen and investors. What are the actual obstacles to this issue?
A: There are three big obstacles: continuing US sanctions levied for other than nuclear reasons, lack of diplomatic ties between the US and Iran, and American distrust of the Iranian courts and political system. You would have to be a brave investor to run that gauntlet.
Q: May West sacrifice its principles such as human rights for economic interests in ties with Iran?
A: I doubt the US will. The EU will be less exigent.
The Butcher’s Trail
I was unable to attend Julian Borger’s book presentation today in DC, but here is my appreciation of his recently published account of the search for and trial of Balkans war criminals:
Who knew the search for war criminals could be so entertaining? Julian Borger, now the Guardian diplomatic editor who reported from the Balkans during the 1990s, has a sharp eye for relevant detail and an ironic sense of its role in the story of how war criminals were tracked and captured in Bosnia, Croatia and Serbia after the Dayton peace accords were signed in 1995.
His Butcher’s Trail is enlivened with a menagerie of well-drawn and memorable characters: the “Serb Adolf” (that’s what he called himself), an evangelical American general trying to redeem the loss of Marines in Somalia, a former mayor so anxious for status that he drives into Croatia to keep an appointment with the senior UN official plotting his capture, the American-trained Polish special forces who in their first operation ever snatch him, the planned use of a gorilla costume to distract Radovan Karadzic’s guards on a winding mountain road at night and his frumpy wife’s successful effort to evade massive and concerted American efforts–coordinated in part by David Petraeus–to track her to her husband.
This would all make for an interesting, if sometimes excessively John Irving, novel. It makes for captivating non-fiction.
I was involved as a State Department officer in some of the earlier and notably unsuccessful efforts to capture war criminals in Bosnia. The generals commanding the hunt thought the protection of their troops far more important. A deputy to the Supreme Allied Commander told me point blank in the summer of 1997 that President Clinton wasn’t interested in capturing war criminals. The general and his boss–Wes Clark–got me withdrawn from the effort in order to block reports to the State Department about what they were doing, or more likely what they were not doing.
Later the hunt for war criminals–PIFWCs in milspeak (Persons Indicted for War Crimes)–became far more serious, though the Americans lagged the British and Dutch in the effort. Trying to minimize risk, Washington often deployed far too many people and too much apparatus, without however knowing much about the environment and terrain in which they had to operate. Borger tells the story of their bumbling well. Nor does he spare the French, late-comers to the competition to capture PIFWCs, whose keystone cops even ended up facing off with each other in the hotel room of one of Radovan Karadzic’s mistresses. But Borger also gives some credit: the Americans at least learned and applied their lessons later in the hunt for Al Qaeda and other terrorist operatives.
While Borger’s focus is on the hunt, he never looses perspective on the reasons for it. He colors in the stark words of criminal indictments with vivid eye-witness descriptions of rape, ethnic cleansing, torture and cold-blooded murder. And he fits these crimes into the main political programs they served: primarily the Croatian and Serbian efforts to carve up Bosnia.
By dying in 1999, Croatian President Tudjman escaped accountability for his concerted efforts to force Bosnia’s Muslims away from his borders and annex territory where the Bosnian Croats were in the majority. Serbian President Slobodan Milosevic wasn’t so lucky. Defeated at the polls in 2000, he was shipped to The Hague in 2001 for trial at the International Tribunal for the Former Yugoslavia (ICTY), a precursor of the International Criminal Court. Borger’s account of how and why the Serbian government took on that responsibility is compelling, as is his description of how Serbian security forces continued to provide protection for Karadzic and Bosnian Serb commander Ratko Mladic.
Borger is keen to make a sharp distinction between the judicial bungling of the Tribunal–whose trials are lengthy and unedifying, with highly variable and sometimes reversible outcomes–and the critical role of its chief prosecutors (especially Louise Arbour and Carla del Ponte) and their small intelligence units in tracking down war criminals and pressuring Croatia, Serbia and Bosnia into handing them over, often with leverage provided by the European Union and the United States. His point is well argued, but it is unlikely to save the Tribunal from those who think it should have done far more far faster to hold its indictees accountable.
It would be hard for any court–even a well-established one–to proceed expeditiously and still provide due process to the butchers Borger describes so well. ICTY has proven unequal to those demanding criteria. But it has still set an important precedent of holding at least some people accountable for the horrors they perpetrate. And, as Borger is right to emphasize, it removed homicidal leaders from countries in which they would have otherwise played spoiler roles. That is, he rightly emphasizes, the Tribunal’s major contribution.