Touring Jordan

I haven't posted lately because my parents are visiting the country. We've spent the past week on a grand tour of Jordan, hitting major sights all across the country. I've been treating it as a vacation. No news, no blogs, no studying; just relaxed days strolling among the ruins of one great civilization after another, discussing Israeli-Jordanian-Palestinian issues with my parents, and playing with my kids.

I enjoy taking first-time visitors around this country. Most of them have no idea what to expect; I certainly didn't before I first arrived. I pictured a vast, flat, and mostly untamed desert with only the faintest traces of human civilization. I had no idea how varied Jordan's topography is, and how rich its cultural heritage. One civilization after another has left its mark here. In the space of a few days you can visit Biblical landmarks, the ancient Nabatean civilization of Petra, the largest Roman ruins outside of Italy, crusader castles, Arab castles belonging to Salah ad-Din, and the desert where the Arab tribes and T.E. Lawrence waged their campaign against the Turks. You can cross a desert on a camel, lounge on the shore of the Red Sea at a 5-star resort hotel, drive among the rolling green hills of the north, and smoke the nargila in a rooftop restaurant in Amman.

I enjoy one thing even more than showing off the country's rich geography and history: I enjoy introducing visitors to its people. Here, too, many Americans have no idea what to expect. We know deep down inside that Arabs and Muslims are ordinary people, just like us, but most Americans never have the opportunity to interact much with Arab or Muslim communities. Our perceptions are largely shaped by the news, Hollywood, and vicious hyper-partisan debates. For many people, Arabs and Muslims are still defined by their exotic "otherness." I love helping people break through these barriers and make genuine contact with others.

We had some wonderful opportunities to do that this week. My wife's and my Arabic ability has improved to the point that it's finally a great asset for meeting people. In the port city of Aqaba we made friends with a cheerful security guard who invited us to visit his home next time we're in town. On the way back to Amman, we needed a bathroom break so we stopped at one of the hundreds of tiny coffee/tea stands that line the highway. Our quick pit stop turned into an hour-long visit with the owner, Khalid. He wanted pictures with our son, showed us cell phone pictures of his own kids, and played a phone recording of his kids laughing. He invited us inside, where he and several of his friends were spending a relaxed afternoon discussing politics and religion. We pulled up chairs, drank tea, and talked at length about the presidencies of Bush and Obama, whether or not there would be war with Iran, and what the US was doing to alleviate the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. One particularly devout Muslim named Yousef talked about his deep respect for Christians and our universal brotherhood as members of revealed religion. When we finished, Khalid insisted over my protests that our tea was free. We received invitations to three different homes in three different towns, traded phone numbers, and went on our way.

My parents loved it. My father commented on how similar people are across the world, despite their very different cultures. We're all just ordinary people. It's a truism, but it's easy to forget. Even I forget it sometimes. These trips are always refreshing for me, because I spend way too much time in front of a computer, reading reports and op-eds about radical Islam and terrorism and Iran and everything else under the sun. Do that long enough, and that's all you see in the world... it's a hostile place where cutthroat fanatics lurk around every corner. I sometimes question myself, wondering if I'm being too soft or idealistic, wondering if all those far-right pundits who rail against the intrinsic evil of Islam are more right than I want to admit. But when I shut off the computer, jump in the car, and go travel around this country, I feel like I'm emerging from a cave. I squint into the bright sunshine and realize the world looks totally different from the news headlines and op-eds. There are deep problems in both Islam and the Arab world, to be sure, but they are far more nuanced and complex than the rhetoric usually suggests. Life in the Arab world is far more ordinary than most people realize.

Finally, I've enjoyed discussing local political issues with my parents, especially the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. At my recommendation, my mother is reading The Lemon Tree and my father is engrossed in Benny Morris' 1948 (he's sitting next to me with his Kindle as I write). He made an interesting comment yesterday: "You never have any idea how little you know about a subject until you start reading good history books." I had exactly the same thought when I read 1948 and other books on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I had always held opinions about the conflict, but I never realized how ignorant I was. Most people--be they American, Israeli, or Arab--are probably the same. We think we understand the conflict and have strong opinions about it, but most of us have only the foggiest idea of what we're talking about. I care deeply about the conflict, so it's always exciting to see people's understanding multiply.

Global Cultural Engagement

I enjoyed Maj. Nathan Springer's piece about the importance of building close personal relationships in a counterinsurgency environment. I agree.

I also believe that the tenets of this article are not limited to population-centric COIN environments; they're true globally. If we want to combat anti-Americanism, build international trust and cooperation, and articulate our policies and our beliefs and our way of life, strong personal relationships are vital. They are far more effective at influencing people than the satellite channels we beam into foreign countries. I have seen many Arab colleagues dramatically reevaluate their opinion of the United States because of personal friendships with Americans.

Unfortunately, all the trend lines for this kind of global engagement are moving in the wrong direction.

The best way to facilitate these relationships is through international travel and study, but the difficulty of obtaining a US visa is legendary. Yesterday I was hanging out with some Arab classmates, and they were joking with me, suggesting I slip my teacher some US dollars to guarantee a good grade. "No," one classmate said. "A US visa!" They all roared with laughter, because they all got the joke; they know that a US visa is more precious than gold.

My Arab colleagues consistently plead for my help with visa issues because they dream about continuing their studies in the US. After a professor delivered the most misogynistic and anti-Semitic lecture I've ever heard, one of my fellow students was furious and embarrassed on my behalf; he begged me do what I could to ensure more of his professors have the chance to study in the US, to help improve the abysmal state of education in the Arab world. He's right. Long-term development in this part of the world will come with international engagement; US isolation and separation will only freeze the status quo or make things worse.

There are other obstacles to building cross-cultural personal relationships. It's almost impossible for anyone employed by the US government to visit most countries in the Middle East (unless it's official business). I've written before about how frustrating it is trying to become a so-called "Middle East expert", when I'm not allowed to travel to the most important countries in the region (while all my civilian friends can).

Our embassies are fortresses; one cab driver I had was so terrified of the embassy security that he whipped past the building, hands shaking, and dropped me off a couple blocks away. Our most recent embassy designs seem to be getting even worse.

Force protection considerations make it extraordinary difficult to engage with local populations sometimes. I am helping one of my professors put together a class on American foreign policy and am trying to line up some guest speakers from the embassy who can build relationships and speak from personal experience about how US policy is made. I would think that US government officials would leap at the chance for this kind of engagement, but these visits require written proposals and permission from a reluctant force protection bureaucracy.

And of course, I've written before about my frustration at the requirement to live in a Beverly Hills-equivalent neighborhood populated largely by Westerners. My wife and I are having such a hard time meeting local Jordanians and making friends that we were seriously considering appealing to my chain of command for permission to move out of the embassy housing pool. That plan hit a dead end when I learned that, even if I got out of the housing pool, I would be required to live within a tight "security radius" that only includes Amman's wealthiest (and most Westernized) neighborhoods. Living in a "popular" area where we can live in daily community with a more conservative, Muslim, exclusively-Arabic-speaking population is impossible so long as I'm in the military. My wife and I both feel sick with disappointment when we talk to our American NGO friends; they all live in these areas and spend almost every day visiting with neighbors. Meanwhile, we peer down from our lofty castle walls and spend hours discussing ways we can find inroads into the culture without breaking the rules.

I guess I have a radically different idea of security than the establishment. I don't find my personal security in the reinforced bulletproof doors or armed guards in my neighborhood; I find it in close personal relationships with local friends who I know will take care of me. Is there some risk? Of course; there always is. But it's a risk I'm willing to take because I believe so strongly in the importance of cultural engagement.

It took visionary Army leadership to implement a culture change in Iraq and Afghanistan, and insist on the importance of living among the population and building trust. We need similar leadership and a similar culture change at the very top if we ever want to get global cross-cultural engagement right. The siege mentality is slowly eroding our ability to build open, trusting relationships and consequently our ability to favorably influence others.

New DOD social media policy

In case you missed it, the DOD has finally issued a clear policy statement permitting the use of social networking sites. This standardized policy should replace the hodge-podge, contradictory policy that has guided the different services until now. That's good news for all of us who believe in the potential benefits of Web 2.0 technology.

Luttwak's Praise for Aerial Bombing

It's fashionable to pick on airpower these days. Even as an Air Force officer, I think the Air Force has often gone too far selling airpower, and I remain unconvinced by some of the pro-airpower articles I have seen. But when a strategist as well-respected as Edward Luttwak writes an article titled In Praise of Aerial Bombing, we should all take note.

Check it out. It's a quick read.

I'm not so sure what I think about Luttwak's examples of the Israeli wars in Lebanon in 2006 and Gaza in 2008. How a person understands the success or failure of these wars largely depends on the level of analysis. Luttwak is right that both operations re-established deterrence. If that was Israel's strategic goal, then the wars succeeded. But neither war did anything to solve Israel's long-term strategic problems; if anything, they made things worse. The 2006 war empowered Hizballah and drove Lebanon to the brink of collapse. Cast Lead bought Israel a year without rocket fire, but at what cost? An new generation of Palestinian children has been traumatized and radicalized forever. Hamas is more entrenched than ever and Fatah is severely weakened. International condemnation is hotter than ever. Massive displays of firepower--including airpower--can shock enemies into submission for a time, but they do not usually resolve the underlying political conflict.

If you don't care about solving the political conflict (or believe it can't be solved), I suppose that makes for a good strategy. Maybe that's the difference between the United States and Israel. Because it cares about "winning" wars and creating stable political outcomes, the US is engaged in costly nation-building enterprises in Afghanistan and Iraq that are straining the country to its breaking point. Then there is Israel. According to a US army colleague who works extensively with the IDF, the Israelis simply do not do strategy. "This is how they think," he told me. "At the end of every year they look around at one another, exclaim 'Wow, we're still here!' and congratulate themselves on a job well done."

An evening with the Bedouin

Yesterday my family and I had the unexpected opportunity to enjoy some Bedouin hospitality, when we went hiking in one of the wadis (valleys) in the Jordan River Valley near the Dead Sea. I was busy teaching my son the essential Man Skill of throwing rocks into a stream when we heard the tinkle of bells. We looked up and saw a long parade of sheep and goats appear from around a bend. They lined up along the stream for a drink, just a few feet from my enraptured son. When the Bedouin goatherd came into view, I waved and greeted him in Arabic. We chatted briefly, then he invited us visit his camp over the hill for a cup of tea. Always eager for new cultural experiences, we accepted.

When we got to the camp, we met two other goatherds who share responsibility for the flock. We got the inevitable lecture about the weather is way too hot for our baby to be outside (until now, all the lectures have been about how it's too cold), then were led on a brief tour of the camp, which consisted of little more than a tent, an animal pen, and a firepit. Our host kept urging us to sit down and relax in his tent, which was well-furnished with carpets, mattresses, a kitchen, and a television. My son was far more interested in watching the animals, so we set up some chairs near the firepit and watched our hosts draw a pail of milk. After that, the head goatherd offered us each a cup of hot, fresh milk mixed with sugar. We migrated to the tent, kicked back, and spent the next hour drinking our milk and talking.

I was surprised that the head goatherd spoke fluent English. He studied agriculture in London and spent a career working in a Jordanian government ministry, but ultimately, he decided to switch to something he loved: goatherding. He said that he likes the physical activity and the freedom. His hired hands were both Syrian, less-educated, and only spoke Arabic, which was better for my wife and I, who are always eager to practice our language. When I told them that we were hoping to visit Syria later this year, one of them invited us to visit his family there (of course, that's only if the US government bureaucracy doesn't disapprove the trip, like they disapproved my previous attempt). I traded phone numbers with the Jordanian goatherd, who wants us to visit again and has invited us to spend a day with his family in a nearby town.

My only experience with Bedouin previously was with a tour guide in the magnificent desert of Wadi Rum, so I enjoyed the opportunity to get a more authentic look at the day-to-day life of the Bedouin who are a standard part of the Jordanian landscape. I also enjoyed the opportunity to experience something of the Bedouin's legendary hospitality firsthand.

An example of Army bottom-up learning

I have often argued that junior officers should take ownership of their own learning, and shouldn't wait for PME to teach them what they need to know. So it's nice to see today's article at SWJ by Captain Kelly S Jones and Major Scott Shaw, who urge Army commanders to build up professional reading programs at the unit level.

I can't comment on the particular books they choose--my personal reading list necessarily looks a lot different than what platoon and company commanders need to read--but I like the idea and admire their efforts promoting bottom-up learning.

OVERCLASSIFICATION RANT: Why do programs like this get sucked into the AKO black hole? God forbid somebody in the Air Force wants to learn more about something that's going on in the Army.

CRS report on al-Qaeda

If you've always wanted to know more about al-Qaeda and didn't know where to start, I recommend this new report by the Congressional Research Service, which consistently writes the most helpful background papers I've ever found. It provides a worldwide tour of al-Qaeda and its various franchises in about 30 pages.

You can find a collection of CRS reports on all sorts of fascinating topics here, courtesy of the Federation of American Scientists.