War and Peace, Time and Patience: The Afghan Surge

War stands sui generis among issues of public concern. Nothing is less repugnant, or less reflexive, to the human psyche. But as my generation and that of my parents—the baby boomers—drift further from any direct experience with a “war of necessity,” war’s basic trickiness stands in ever starker relief against the ambivalence of our times. Afghanistan challenges our temperament for violent conflict in ways men like Churchill and Truman, for all their wisdom, could not have foreseen.

There are many arguments against our involvement in Afghanistan—that we entered the conflict in a fever of righteous pique; that we don’t have any clear goals there; that Pakistan is the more important focus; that the country is as unstable now as it was when the Soviets tried to conquer it; that any resultant increase in national security is not worth the cost. These points are all valid and worthy of consideration, and yet all but this last have little bearing on the reality of the day: we are there.

We are there, and like it or not, we have to do something.

We could, of course, withdraw immediately. This sounds like a fine idea to skeptics on the left, many of whom seem not so much pacifist as exhausted. These are the same Democrats, it is important to remember, who happily trumpeted Obama’s commitment to escalating the “real war” in Afghanistan in exchange for withdrawal from Iraq during the 2008 campaign. Fickleness is a friend to all politics.

But unless we are heartless we must ask: withdrawal at what cost? Aside from a small buffer from the remaining external forces (who would see it as betrayal), Afghanistan would almost certainly be plunged into a state of anarchy and bloodshed. Our enemies in the region (al Qaeda, the Taliban) would be empowered. The American military would lose faith in their commander-in-chief, who would have expressly contradicted the recommendations of his top military advisors, not to mention broken a clear campaign promise. The political fallout for President Obama would be sharp; “surrender” would once again be the most popular word on Fox News. And who knows what would happen in Pakistan? Would it respond with a newfound responsibility for the region, or with more of the same corrupt apathy? Would the regime even survive? There is a reason it has been called the “Af-Pak” strategy. What begins in Afghanistan surely does not end there.

Of course we know, based on last week’s decisions, that immediate withdrawal is not a tolerable option for our Commander-in-Chief. Nor should it strike us as a reasonable one. What then?

We could stay forever. The neoconservative right demands empire: how else can we maintain democracy and security in one of the most unstable, corrupt places on the planet? Not until there is a functioning democracy, a competent army, a vanquished Taliban and nary a trace of opium would Bill Kristol and his cynical ilk be happy—nor even then, for they don’t actually care about Afghanistan. They want permanent war.  They want, if we are a bit conspiracy-minded, a reason to keep producing tanks and Kevlar and paying for “private security forces.”  They want a satellite in the Muslim world from which to police the region, sovereignty be damned. And they want, most ludicrous of all, for this permanent American presence to somehow engender good feelings and blot out Islamic terrorism for good. Hearts and minds are one side of COIN [PDF], after all.

So the neoconservative solution doesn’t seem reasonable either. Where does that leave us?

Not to be glib, but it leaves us pretty much where the President described in his West Point remarks. As a matter of patience and will, as well as resources, we can’t stay in Afghanistan forever. We can’t do nothing; the confluence of events and public opinion demands action. But if we can’t leave right now, and we acknowledge that we have both a strategic interest in, and a moral responsibility for a graceful exit, the only logical solution seems to be that which begins our withdrawal in the foreseeable future, with the goal of leaving the country in the least-bad condition we can. This means laying the groundwork for stability, if not a functioning democracy. This means making the Afghan leadership, as well as other powers in the region (particularly Pakistan) masters of their entwined political fates. This means achieving a measure of safety for Afghan civilians and a level of competence among the Afghan military. This means we’re not quite done.

The wisdom of the new plan for American involvement in Afghanistan seems even more coherent in light of the President’s Nobel address. The missing piece of the puzzle that will likely be known (inappropriately, one could argue) as the Obama Doctrine now fits firmly in place:

There will be times when nations—acting individually or in concert—will find the use of force not only necessary but morally justified.[…] For make no mistake:  Evil does exist in the world. […] To say that force may sometimes be necessary is not a call to cynicism—it is a recognition of history; the imperfections of man and the limits of reason.

Obama is here invoking just war theory more persuasively than any president since Truman (though I agree with Matt Yglesias that Obama neglecting even to mention the unjustness of Iraq “is a huge failing”). The justness of our presence in Afghanistan—a war of choice, indeed, against non-state actors (though not, like Iraq, a preventive war)—wanes every day that we don’t capture Bin Laden, every day al Qaeda continues to disrupt local stability, every day the Taliban continues to recruit, every day Karzai and his cronies continue to shirk their responsibilities. What’s unique, and thrilling, about the plan for Afghanistan is how gently it forces everyone’s hands. We have been there for over eight years, and Obama is saying that before that clock strikes ten—before our involvement loses its purchase on justice—we will take stock of our successes, count our losses, turn out the lights and hand over the keys. By giving McChrystal 34,000 additional troops and a deadline, Obama has admitted that we are approaching a cost-benefit horizon, both strategically and morally. How refreshing, to have a president paint a picture in shades other than monochrome!

It’s not a perfect solution—how could there possibly be one? But Obama has read his Tolstoy: “The strongest of all warriors are these two—Time and Patience.” Among all the bad choices available, they’ll have to do, for now.

For more on Af-Pak strategy, in far greater detail than I can summon, I suggest Spencer Ackerman, whose blog and other writings are indispensable on this and many subjects. Especially this piece.