Building Peace

Touring Jordan

2010-03-11T06:47:00.004+02:00

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

2010-03-03T11:37:00.004+02:00

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

2010-02-28T06:27:00.003+02:00

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

2010-02-24T20:30:00.005+02:00

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

2010-02-21T10:08:00.005+02:00

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

2010-02-21T06:36:00.005+02:00

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

2010-02-19T14:31:00.004+02:00

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.

The problem with air-mindedness

2010-02-19T08:26:00.004+02:00

Yesterday I praised Air Force Col Zastrow's call for an emphasis on jointness, in contrast to other Air Force articles that play up antagonism with other services. One of the key tenets of these articles is the concept of "air-mindedness." I think this word needs to be jettisoned from the Air Force's lexicon.

What does air-mindedness mean?

An article published today in Air University's The Wright Stuff is a perfect example. In Why does the nation need an independent air force? Dr. Muller writes, "What makes airmen different? Soldiers rightly see the close fight as the center of their universe. Airmen look beyond the front lines to the enemy heartland, to the sustaining sources of military, political and economic power, and even to the threat of the next war."

This view is the evolution of what airpower theorist Giulio Douhet once wrote: "As long as man remained tied to the surface of the earth, his activities had to be adapted to the conditions imposed by that surface. . . . By virtue of this new weapon [the airplane], the repercussions of war are no longer limited by the farthest artillery range of surface guns, but can be directly felt for hundreds and hundreds of miles over all the lands and seas of nations at war." General Hap Arnold coined the term "airmindedness" to describe the airman's unique view of the battlefield.

General Charles Dunlap, one of the Air Force's most prolific writers, often champions the concept of air-mindedness. In his most recent article he writes, "Actually, 'airmindedness' is more of an attitude that focuses not upon any one dimension of military power, but rather aims to holistically leverage America's technological advantages across multiple domains, especially (but certainly not exclusively) in air, space, and cyberspace."

Dr. Dale Hayden writes, "Air-mindedness... is a global, strategic mind-set providing perspective through which the battlespace is not constrained by geography, distance, location, or time. The air-mindedness lens enables Airmen to think about conflict in which force-on-force and armies in the field are only one element. It implies the ability to influence the links between adversary materiel and moral strength. Although Airmen rarely claim to target the enemy's will, they perceive a direct connection between his physical capacity and desire to continue the fight."

The core idea of "air-mindedness", in other words, is that surface operators view war as a 2D contest where armies collide at the front line; airmen think in terms of a comprehensive, multi-dimensional, unconstrained battlespace and are primarily concerned with strategic effects.

Why should we jettison the term? Two reasons.

First, I don't think it's true anymore. It was once upon a time. Airmen fought for decades to broaden the views of ground commanders and awaken them to the strategic effects airpower could create. I won't go into the story here, because it is well-documented by the airpower theorists at Air University. The story of airpower's difficult ascendancy finally climaxed in Desert Storm and the Balkans, where airpower proved its strategic utility. It is easy to see why early airpower advocates promoted the idea of "air-mindedness" and urged airmen to take a broader view of military conflict.

I think those days are largely behind us. The airmindedness theorists have a point--ground commanders do not always understand what air and space power are capable of, and there needs to be more mutual learning--but they are wrong that airmen have a monopoly on the strategic view of the battlefield. Afghanistan and Iraq have turned the tables. The US Army does not view these wars as a red vs. blue contests on a two-dimensional geographic battlefield. Army leaders see a complex, multidimensional battlespace. They understand these wars are waged in political, economic, military, and information domains. Tactical victories are less important than strategic effects. Nor are these wars limited to Afghanistan and Iraq; broader regional politics are immensely important. The keys to Iraq's and Afghanistan's future, for example, may lie with Iran and Pakistan. The Army did not develop this sophisticated understanding of the battlespace overnight, but it has proved remarkably adept at learning. Today you'll find soldiers and Marines of all ranks writing thoughtful essays about tribal engagement, the evolution of Islamic terror organizations, and the efforts of provincial reconstruction teams, among other things.

The Air Force has tended to lag. I was deeply alarmed when a senior AFCENT general gave a briefing at the base I was deployed in 2007, full of the metrics he was relying on and was obviously proud of: sorties flown, bombs dropped, targets destroyed. His view of the war, I thought, was far too narrow. Very few Air Force officers regularly engage with the vibrant discussions of war and strategy online. The Air Force has made great strides in improving its understanding of irregular warfare since 2007, but I see no indication that the Air Force by definition has a more strategic view of war than the Army.

The second reason we should jettison the phrase "air-mindedness" is that nobody is listening. It's a term and concept that only circulates within the ranks of the Air Force. Mention it around the Army, and you'll probably hear snide comments about "air-headedness" and the Air Force's irrelevance. This interservice rivalry has two sides, and plenty of soldiers and Marines are guilty of ignoring or downplaying the Air Force's crucial contributions to our present wars, but the elitist view of air-mindedness will not close the gap. Far better to start from a platform of cooperation and equality, and clearly and professionally articulate what airpower can contribute. Lt Col Kelly "K Mart" Martin sets a good example with her piece at Tom Ricks' blog.

Cross-cultural learning and the danger of overconfidence

2010-02-18T14:21:00.005+02:00

One of the dangers of living in a foreign culture is developing a false sense of confidence. If you spend a few months in a place like Jordan, you can get lulled into a belief that you understand the people and their culture. What you don't realize is that you are seeing only the most superficial aspects of the country; there are layers and layers of complexity and subtlety you have no idea about. This is especially true if you are an American living in ritzy West Amman.

For example, if you read the English-language Jordan Times every day, you will be able to keep up with the headline news, follow the major events in the country, and read some op-eds that are quite different from anything in the US papers. But really, you're only getting a very narrow perspective. Even if you don't speak Arabic, you'll note that Al-Ra'i, the Arabic-language paper, is four or five times as thick as the Jordan Times. Most of the news is inaccessible to you. Also, these papers are both state-controlled, so they don't necessarily tell you how the average Jordanian thinks. If you visit a local barbershop, you'll quickly get a very different perspective on politics. And who knows what is being shouted over the mosque speakers during the Friday sermon?

When you first arrive in Jordan, you wouldn't know that it's a tribal society. The country has a more-or-less functioning government and public institutions. Your West Amman friends are all pretty westernized. They drive BMWs, go to university, work as engineers or in government ministries. You see young men and women hanging out together on the university campus, sitting in the shade of trees talking and drinking Pepsi. If you can get past the headscarfs and occasional burka, it's tempting to think that this culture is not so different from the US. Of course if you think that, you would be wrong. You probably don't realize that when two Jordanians meet, the first question they always ask is what tribe the other belongs to. You probably have no idea that in May 1999, three days of fighting erupted at the university between two rival tribes. Hundreds of students got involved--all because of a single slur. The crisis was solved not by university or government authorities, but by a tribal tradition of reconciliation over a cup of coffee. You probably don't realize that the social interactions between all those young men and women are governed by complex cultural protocol, and that if you violate it--say, by talking to the wrong girl--you could inadvertently find yourself under the wrath of distant cousins who are honor-bound to defend her because she is in their tribe. And don't be fooled by that local car insurance you bought; if you get in a bad accident, you're likely to find yourself in the middle of a tribal dispute resolution mechanism.

I'm always learning these little lessons... how much I don't know, and how much depth this society has that I'm blind to. Just when I think I understand something, I get thrown for a loop.

I was reminded of that last week. Last semester I studied in an English-speaking master's program with professors who were mostly educated in the West. I heard a lot of opinions from my professors and peers that were quite different from anything I heard in the US, but overall, I was pleased how moderate most of my colleagues were.

This semester I am talking a class on politics in a different department, where the language of instruction is Arabic and the professors are mostly educated in the Middle East. I was shocked by the first lecture. The teacher explained that in America mothers teach their children, "The only good Muslim is a dead Muslim" and that every morning when the US Navy raises the flag, sailors sing and pledge their vengeance against Libya because of a naval defeat in the First Barbary War. He said American foreign policy in Afghanistan and Iraq is best explained by the fact that George W. Bush and Tony Blair are both Protestants, and that Protestants believe Palestine is for the Jews even more strongly than the Jews do, so they launched a new crusade. He explained that Christopher Columbus was on a religious crusade to encircle his Muslim enemies from the east, and that the conquest of the Americas killed up to 600 million Native Americans (twice the current population of the US). According to studies, he said, 70-80% of Americans are addicted to drugs or alcohol. And if you want to get elected US president, you have to hug a black person and kiss a Jew. I could go on, but you get the idea.

Just when I thought I was beginning to understand the perspectives of my Jordanian colleagues, I was reminded how little I knew. Until this week, most of my political discussion was heavily filtered; I was talking politics with Western-educated professors and English-speaking students. Now I'm getting a more local perspective, although it's still filtered: although it's far from US standards, I'm still in a graduate level academic environment. I'm sure there are layers and layers of the culture that I have still not glimpsed.

Can we draw any larger lessons from my experience? When our country engages with foreign nations, humility is a virtue. We should never assume we have other cultures figured out. We need to recognize that most of the insight we gain is heavily filtered--through English-speaking scholars or journalists, or through elite government and business contacts. Our government-level linkages with other cultures are usually with elites who speak good English, wear suits, and seem deceptively like us.

These native guides are vital for understanding other cultures, but our elite contacts do not necessarily reflect the broader population and they can also open us up to the risk of exploitation (think Ahmad Chalabi). I'm sensitive to that danger here. Recently I asked a Jordanian friend to tell me about the most prominent tribes. We spent the next hour hunched over a notebook, drawing diagrams of the tribes and their relationships and scribbling notes about each one. My friend offered extensive commentary. "This is the tribe that controls my town," he said. "They are very corrupt. The father is illiterate and doesn't know anything, but buys the support of higher level government officials by throwing wild parties for them with lots of girls. If you want to do any business in my town you have to go through his son, who always wants huge bribes." I'm sure there is some truth in what my friend is saying, but I suspect if I talked to that rival tribe, I would get a very different explanation. That meeting heightened my appreciation for how difficult it is to make an accurate map of the social and political terrain.

That's what concerns me about the tribal engagement strategy described by Jim Gant. I, along with a lot of other military officers, got a little nervous reading the section about his taking sides in a tribal dispute. How well do we really understand what we're doing in these cases? Obviously we have to find a strategy in Afghanistan, no strategy is perfect, and tribal engagement might very well be the best option on the table--I will leave that question to the experts--but we should tread carefully, recognizing that we are dealing with an ancient and very alien social arrangement that we barely understand. I also wonder how much we really know about Iran; Western media is obsessed with the opposition Green Movement, but is that because the movement is really so powerful, or because limited information filtered through Western-friendly contacts and our own hopes for Iran are giving us a distorted picture? Humility about our cultural knowledge should not paralyze our decision-making processes, but it should lead us to constantly question our assumptions and seek to learn more.

I'll close by linking to a recent SWJ article titled The Seven Pillars of Ambiguity. Author David Mason writes, "The Seven Pillars of Ambiguity are those things that, unless you are native to the country, you can never really know. What you can do however, is recognize your knowledge gap and work to close it."

CNAS on Officership

2010-02-18T13:49:00.005+02:00

Today I read the new CNAS report Keeping the Edge: Revitalizing America's Military Officer Corps. This report draws together a lot of the best ideas on reforming the military's personnel and education systems. The themes of the report are probably familiar to most of my readers: we need to identify and promote the right leaders, broaden the education of our officer force, increase opportunities for joint, interagency and multinational assignments, allow for more career flexibility, etc.

I was pleased to see that the report includes a chapter by an Air Force officer, Col Roderick C. Zastrow. The Air Force has struggled to find its place in the messy, ground-centric "small wars" in which the US is presently engaged. Col Zastrow offers a number of practical ideas on how to improve Air Force integration in joint operations. He emphasizes the importance of mutual learning between the Air Force and other services, something I firmly agree with. I appreciate his tone. He rightly insists that airpower specialists can bring unique perspective and abilities that our sister services might not fully understand, but he also admits that the Air Force needs to learn from them as well. This is a much more helpful perspective than the "siege" mentality I have seen in many other articles, which suggests that airmen need to fight tooth and nail to protect sacred doctrine from commanders in rival services who do not understand airpower or the airman's broader view of war.

The report is probably intended for an audience of senior leaders who can shape the military's personnel and education systems, but it should be read by junior officers as well, because it suggests a roadmap for the skills and abilities they will need to cultivate in their careers. I do not expect our personnel or PME systems to change much, but that shouldn't stop individual officers from running ahead of the system as much as possible to learn and grow.

Palestinians adopt the Avatar narrative

2010-02-13T22:03:00.005+02:00

Remember what I wrote about the tedious moralizing of Avatar, with its morally flawless Na'vi and its utterly evil villains who wed corporate greed and oppression with ruthless displays of military power? I was disappointed that James Cameron missed the opportunity to weave a story with more depth and moral complexity, but it occurred to me as I watched the film that many Arabs view their own situation through exactly this kind of morally simplistic lens.

If you think I'm wrong, you should check out what's going down in the West Bank village of Bilin, where Palestinian protesters are dressing up as Na'vi to protest the Israeli separation barrier.

A tribute to the Jordanian victim of the CIA bombing

2010-02-13T13:30:00.005+02:00

Here's a side of the Arab world that you probably aren't accustomed to seeing. A few days ago, the English-language Jordan Times ran an op-ed by the brother of Al Sharif Ali Bin Zeid Al Aoun, the Jordanian intelligence agent who was killed, along with 7 CIA officers, by the Jordanian double-agent he was handling. It's worth reading in its entirety, but here is a sample:

Ali always stressed that we should not allow Al Qaeda or any other ideological extremist organisation to continue defaming and distorting our religion and proud culture under the pretext of defending them.

He was adamant that we should not allow these unholy and devious political organisations to hijack and manipulate the deep, personal emotions and frustrations currently felt by many Arabs (whether the cause be their sense of helplessness in witnessing the misery and anguish of the Palestinian and Iraqi people, or from the daily frustrations that Arab people face in finding jobs or paying for their children's education or health needs) to justify their evil deeds.

Here I would like us to ask ourselves a basic question far from emotions or rhetoric. How has Al Qaeda, through any of its activities or actions, helped the Muslim and Arab people address or alleviate any of our daily concerns and problems? Has it, in any way, helped to achieve justice and freedom for the Palestinian people? Has it helped address the immediate concerns of people in finding work, providing healthcare or helping lift them out of poverty? Has it given justice to the message of Islam as it was brought down to us?

The fact is that the only achievements and proof points this non-religious, political terrorist organisation can claim is in the number of its victims. And here, I ask, how many of them are civilians? How many of them are Muslims? And how many of them are women and children?

My brother, Al Sharif Ali Bin Zeid, went to Afghanistan and sacrificed his life for a clear, noble, Islamic and national goal, which is to prevent any more innocent Jordanians from being added to Al Qaeda's "death roll", in which it takes so much pride.

The clash of fundamentalisms?

2010-02-13T07:11:00.005+02:00

The other night I hung out with one of my best Jordanian friends. He is brilliant, speaks multiple languages, and has a promising career ahead in the arena of foreign affairs. He is secular, fairly Westernized, and deeply critical of Islamist politics, but he is also anti-capitalist and hostile to the United States. We talk about politics endlessly. We come from radically different backgrounds and disagree on a lot, but our conversations are always enlightening.

My friend is deeply critical of what he sees as imperialist American foreign policy. We have had many debates about American foreign policy post-September 11th. We largely agree about the mistakes that have been made, but we have radically different views of the root causes. I think the Iraq war was launched because of (1) pragmatic fears of Iraqi WMD, which most of the policymaking establishment believed was a serious threat at the time and (2) neoconservative ideology that believed the US could accelerate the growth of liberal democracy around the world by employing its military power. My friend can't believe that US policymakers were actually well-intentioned. He believes the Iraq war was launched to make Dick Cheney and Haliburton rich, and advance the interests of the Israel and oil lobbies.

I guess my endless debating pushed my friend a little too far. When we hung out the other night, he kind of snapped. I sat silently for at least half an hour, listening and nodding, while he vented everything that had been building up over the past few months. He was emotional, frustrated, raising his voice, punctuating every point with waves of his hands. His conversation was all over the place, but it was all about one core topic: his deep frustration with the damage that he feels imperialistic US policy is doing to the world.

My friend feels that he is an innocent trapped between a clash of fundamentalisms. He has little love for Islam and despises extremist Muslim politics, but he told me that the United States is no different: it is a theocracy controlled by right-wing Christians. Both Muslims and Christians, he said, are opposed to modernization because they are anti-intellectual and opposed to a scientific mindset. It was Christian zeal, he said, that led President Bush on a messianic mission to transform the Middle East. And it is Christians, he said, who multiply the power of the Israel lobby in the United States. Christians' unconditional support for the state of Israel leads them to support extremist politics--like the Israeli settlement enterprise. They make it impossible for the US to broker a just solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, because no US president can act against them. Obama tried and failed. The ordinary forward-looking people of Jordan, he said, are trapped between these warring fundamentalisms.

The very next night, my professor at university said almost exactly the same thing. He was explaining how important it is to understand history and culture if we want to understand contemporary policy. American Protestants, he said, believe that the land of Israel is for the Jews even more strongly than the Jews do. He elaborated on this for a while, explaining that Britain joined the US in invading Iraq because both countries have Protestant backgrounds and are consequently wed to Judaism and Israel. Suddenly he put me on the spot and asked if I was Protestant. In my best possible Arabic I said yes, but explained that not all Protestants are with Israel 100%. This is a speech I give often here in Jordan. I explained that I am not on the side of Israelis and not on the side of Palestinians. I am on the side of peace. I support people on both sides who are willing to work for peace; I oppose those on both sides who stand against it. My teacher and all my classmates applauded, but my teacher eyed me suspiciously. I got the sense that he's still wary that I'm a closet Zionist.

By the way, plenty of Americans would agree with these guys. Christopher Hitchens and Christopher Hedges are a couple of thinkers who come to mind.

I don't repeat these conversations here because I agree with them, but because I think it's vital for Americans to understand that this is how they are viewed. Many Americans would be shocked to hear that much of the world views the US as a theocracy. Most Christian Zionists have no idea how much damage they're doing to their faith's reputation or the cause of peace. Academics in the US debate whether or not Walt and Mearsheimer are anti-Semitic for writing a scholarly analysis of the Israel lobby, but in Jordan, the overwhelming influence of the lobby is simply assumed as a first principle. President Bush is viewed the way Americans view Hitler; it's taken for granted that he is evil incarnate, and no sane person would dare to suggest otherwise.

This is the human terrain in which the US has to market itself and its policies. That's tough work. What makes it so difficult is that truth and myth are so deeply interwoven. My friend and my professor base their arguments on seeds of truth, but they take them to extravagant lengths. Yes, the Israel lobby is wealthy and very influential; no, there is no secret Jewish cabal running the country. Yes, American Christians are largely sympathetic to Israel and are an important voting bloc; but no, the vast majority of Christians are not interested in waging a new crusade against Islam, and Christians hold a variety of political views. Yes, America has troops deployed all over the globe and is currently occupying two Muslim countries; no, the US was not motivated by raw greed and hate, and it has zero interest in conquering vast swaths of Muslim lands to control their oil. In fact, we're trying to figure out how to get out.

How do you dialogue with this knotted logic? You do it one conversation at a time. You do it through friendship and personal example. Human, face-to-face contact and personal experience is what breaks down stereotypes. My friend told me that our friendship has radically changed how he views the US and the American military. We'll keep talking, we'll keep learning, and we'll keep trying to understand each other... one conversation at a time.

USAFA Insignificance

2010-02-13T06:27:00.002+02:00

That's the title of an article that recently appeared in Checkpoints, the magazine of the Air Force Academy Association of Graduates. The author writes:

USAFA has played a much lesser role than the other two service academies when it comes to our nation's leaders. Even from a military point of view, USAFA grads have not yet excelled on an equal basis with our sister academies. Not a single graduate has held the Chairmanship of the Joint Chiefs of Staff (JCS) and just a few have emerged as the Air Force Chief of Staff (CSAF). If we are turning out leaders with character and competence--and I strongly believe we are--where are they?

The author goes on to write that USAFA grads are also underrepresented in Congress, in corporate leadership, and in graduate schools. He suggests possible factors include USAFA's relatively young age, its geographical location (far removed from the East coast), a graduate force that is skewed towards narrow specializations in aerospace, a curriculum that doesn't give enough attention to fields like leadership and politics, a lack of cohesiveness among graduates, and a lack of participation and representation in national politics.

This isn't the first article on the subject. Various articles and studies have looked at the Air Force's under-representation in senior leadership positions. One example is Rebecca Grant's article Why Airmen Don't Command, in which she laments that "Those who wear blue are virtually shut out of the top warfighting posts." Her focus is on the regional commands.

I shared some of my views on USAFA after Tom Ricks suggested that all the service academies should be closed. While I don't agree with him, I do believe that USAFA and Air Force PME often serve as vehicles for transmitting a dysfunctional service culture. The culture is too insular, too antagonistic to the other services, and focuses almost entirely on airpower while excluding broader issues of war and politics.

What should the Air Force do? I have one mantra here: Teach officers about war, not just airpower. Give cadets and officers opportunities to interact in the joint environment at every opportunity in their careers. It's never too early. Also give them opportunities to interact with leaders from other government agencies, NGOs, and the corporate world--in other word, all the people who will be stakeholders and participants when they fight future wars. We also need a personnel system that rewards, rather than punishes, broadening programs like graduate school. In the current Air Force, it can be challenging to stay competitive in the flying world when you take two or three years out for graduate school (after I finish my graduate schooling in Jordan, my assignment officer wants to send me to a job that would probably kill my career. I'll fight that battle next year).

By definition, the Air Force is a service specializing in air and space power. We will always be marked by both the strengths and weaknesses that our specialization brings. However, we will only reach our full utility if we understand exactly how we fit into broader issues of war and politics. That is also a prerequisite for holding the kind of leadership positions that these authors long for.

How to help the Iranian opposition

2010-02-11T13:09:00.004+02:00

The Cable posted an interview today with Mohsen Sazegara, a founder of the Revolutionary Guard in 1979 who grew disillusioned and now supports the opposition. One quote in particular caught my eye. When asked how the Obama administration should react to what's happening in Iran, Sazegara said:

I hope that the Obama administration and other democratic countries will be more supportive of the struggle of the people of Iran for democracy and human rights. I can summarize it in four items. First, sanctions against the Revolutionary Guard. Second, technical support like satellite Internet for Iran and pressure on companies like Nokia which have sold devices to control SMS, cell phones, and Internet in Iran. Third, help asylum seekers. Some of the activists, journalists and freedom seekers are now out of Iran in Turkey, Iraq, or Dubai. We need to help to bring them to Western countries. The last one is, please everybody, help to prevent any military strike against Iran, especially from Israel, because it would be a gift for this regime. We believe that this regime will be overthrown by the people, and a military strike would be the only solution for this regime to save the government. [emphasis mine]

Machine Translation

2010-02-10T08:57:00.004+02:00

As someone who fries brain cells everyday by studying Arabic, I'm always interested in the latest translating tools and technologies. These tools are a double-edged sword. Used properly, technology is a huge aid to a foreign language student. I use a variety of tools--such as Google Translate and Firefox plugins--to streamline my study time, quickly look up unfamiliar words or phrases, and self-edit my Arabic writing. These tools can also be dangerous. One of my DLI classmates always kept his laptop open in class; any time he wanted to speak, he would type the sentence into Google Translate and read the result. He could not speak without this crutch. Not exactly a recommended technique for learning Arabic.

Google has done a pretty remarkable job creating software that can translate written text, but the holy grail is a system that can translate speech. That's why this article caught my attention: Google leaps language barrier with translator phone. Google has been simultaneously researching and developing two powerful technologies: its translation system and voice recognition-driven search. Google is confident that it can combine these technologies and have a translating phone on the market within the next few years. We'll see. This is a tough problem to crack, but if anyone can do it, I think Google can.

When real-time speech translation hits the market--and I think it's only a question of when--I'm curious what the impact will be on our world. On balance, I think such a system would be an enormous step forward. It would bring the world closer together, humanize other cultures, and create new possibilities for global cooperation. On the other hand, this technology will create an enormous barrier to actually learning foreign languages. A lot of people won't believe foreign language learning is necessary anymore. Those do wish to learn languages will have a hard time escaping all this auto-translation and actually practicing their language. I, for one, still think learning languages is important. As I've written before, speaking a foreign language isn't just about translating content from one format to another; it's a means of building trusting relationships across cultures. I worry that could get lost.

We also have a long way to go with quality. If you want to amuse yourself, check out Translation Party. You type a phrase in English, and the website uses Google to translate it into Japanese, then translates the Japanese back into English. This repeats over and over until the two translations finally match. I typed in "Who is the leader of your village?" After 50 iterations the website gave up and warned me the phrase will probably never reach equilibrium. Its final translation? "Many other people, many of our people, the people of our village and how many other educators who and how many?" Yikes.

Overclassification

2010-02-09T20:56:00.003+02:00

I get pretty spoiled living like a graduate student in an exotic foreign country, but every once in a while, I remember that I'm still attached to that monstrous bureaucracy called The United States Air Force. Today I was thinking that I should probably figure out what I need to do to get promoted to Major. I went to the Air Force Personnel Center (AFPC) website to look for details and found a section conveniently titled "Pre-Board Info." Sublinks have such helpful titles as Milestones, Board Schedule, and Promotion Process. Not a single link works. Why not? Access to these articles is restricted to military networks.

You've got to be kidding me. I mean, I realize how dangerous it could be for our national security if Al-Qa'ida obtained a copy of our Major's promotion board schedule, but sometimes you just have to accept some risk for the sake of mission accomplishment.

What I'm Reading

2010-02-09T10:26:00.004+02:00

This month I've been on semester break from university, and busy at home helping with my newborn daughter. I've also been working overtime studying Arabic, because I'm going to take a political science class this next semester entirely in Arabic (until now my classes have been taught in English). A friend gave me a freshman-level political science textbook to help me prepare. I'm working my way through it, but at around 20 minutes a page, it's hard, brain-scrambling work.

All that to say, I've taken a break from serious reading for a few weeks. I've mostly been reading fun stuff. Reading, underlining, and scribbling notes in a serious history book is hard work when you're holding a baby; reading a novel on my Kindle is easy. Here are some of the books I've been reading:

My Arabic-speaking FAO buddy (who comments here as da kine) recommended Wasp by Eric Frank Russell. It's a classic 1950s SF novel about a guy who gets dropped covertly onto an enemy planet with a simple mission: sow as much chaos as possible. It's like John Robb: the Novel. For those of you aren't familiar with Robb's work, his core idea is that it's extremely easy for individuals or small groups to disrupt networks and wreak disproportionate damage in our world today. Wasp is a fun book and short enough to read in an evening or two. I thought the writing was mediocre and the plot far too contrived, but my friend assures me that this is an intentional stylistic feature. I guess I can buy that.

One of my favorite novelists is Tom Wolfe. It's a rare pleasure to read an author who makes me stop after every paragraph and say, "Wow, this guy is a genius." I am Charlotte Simmons, which I read a couple years ago, is one of the most impressive novels I've ever read (and by far the crassest), exposing the mindlessness and debauchery of the modern university. I decided recently to go back and read Wolfe's earlier Bonfire of the Vanities, which is a fascinating sketch of race, power, wealth, poverty, justice, and injustice in New York.

One of my favorite science fiction authors is Kim Stanley Robinson, probably most famous for his Nebula and Hugo-winning Mars trilogy. He has a new book out, Galileo's Dream, which is sort of an alternate history about the life of Galileo Galilei--and the post-human visitors from the 35th century who try to change his destiny.

I'm currently reading Lebanon: A House Divided by Sandra Mackey, which is an enjoyable and highly readable introduction to the complex mosaic of Lebanese identity and history. It's not a scholarly book, but for someone who knows very little about Lebanon, it's a great place to start.

I'm also reading A Journal of the Plague Year by Daniel Defoe, a 1722 piece of journalistic fiction based on the experiences of the author's uncle. It describes life in London during the plague of 1665. I guess this doesn't exactly qualify as light reading, but I've had kind of a morbid fascination with the plague ever since I read Thucydides' account of the plague of Athens. The most chilling and lasting impression I took from Thucydides was the speed with which human pretenses of nobility and civility can collapse into anarchy. We see it in his account of the plague, the breakdown of lofty wartime rhetoric into naked cynicism, and in the barbarism of the war itself. This book offers a rare window (just kidding, Tom) into London life during the plague. It's available on the Kindle for free.

The Two Policies of Digital Freedom

2010-02-09T09:27:00.006+02:00

I'm lagging pretty far behind the news with this post because I've been busy with other things, but I think it's important and still worth writing.

Internet Freedom has been all over the news in the past couple months. Google uncovered a massive Chinese hacking operation that targeted at least 34 companies. Google, already frustrated by Chinese censorship, announced that this was a bridge too far and threatened to shut down its China operation entirely. The complex interplay between the corporate world, states, and national security issues has led Google into consultations with the State Department and now the NSA.

On January 21st, probably in response to the attack, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton delivered her Remarks on Internet Freedom. She struck directly at those states that try to curtail Internet freedom, comparing these censorship operations to the Berlin Wall:

Some countries have erected electronic barriers that prevent their people from accessing portions of the world's networks. They've expunged words, names, and phrases from search engine results. They have violated the privacy of citizens who engage in non-violent political speech. These actions contravene the Universal Declaration on Human Rights, which tells us that all people have the right "to seek, receive and impart information and ideas through any media and regardless of frontiers." With the spread of these restrictive practices, a new information curtain is descending across much of the world. And beyond this partition, viral videos and blog posts are becoming the samizdat of our day."

Here in the Arab world, people aren't impressed by the speech; they're frustrated by US hypocrisy. Two issues have undermined US credibility. The first is the passage of Congressional Resolution 2278, which threatens to sanction Arab television stations inciting terrorism. The second is US laws which deny the populations in sanctioned countries access to key websites.

First, the Congressional Resolution. Marc Lynch covered this in-depth on January 25th. He writes that the resolution "is a perfect example of mindless grandstanding which pleases domestic audiences while hurting American interests in the Arab world." Nonetheless, the resolution passed by an overwhelming 395-3. I have no love for Hamas or Hizballah, but the way to defeat them isn't with intrusive government policies that seek to control information; that kind of policy is partly responsible for the intellectual stagnation in the Middle East in the first place. The best thing we can do is open up the intellectual marketplace, let people learn and grow, and trust that good ideas will win in the long run. I quote Marc Lynch again at length:

In short, H.R. 2278 is a deeply irresponsible bill which sharply contradicts American support for media freedom and could not be implemented in the Middle East today as crafted without causing great damage. Even Arab governments who despise Hamas and Hezbollah and Qaradawi and al-Jazeera could not sign on to it. Instead, such governments proposed a pan-Arab Media Commission which would monitor and regulate political content on satellite TV -- an idea which was floated in spring 2008, and mercifully failed. Fortunately, that proposal has again been shelved. The last thing the Arab world needs right now is more state power of censorship over the media -- whether the Arab League over satellite TV or the Jordanian government over the internet. Hillary Clinton just laid out a vision of an America committed to internet freedom, and that should be embraced as part of a broader commitment to free and open media. Nobody should be keen on restoring the power of authoritarian governments over one of the few zones of relative freedom which have evolved over the last decade.

I've seen this story pop up repeatedly over the past few weeks. The Arabic BBC debated the topic on a call-in talk show. Among the questions discussed was whether or not this meant Arab countries had the right to block US programming. The whole issue severely undermines the freedom agenda Secretary Clinton is trying to promote.

The second issue is the denial of access to US websites. ArabCrunch has been pushing this issue recently. According to its website, "The mission of ArabCrunch.NET is to help accelerate entrepreneurship and technology innovation in the Arab world by delivering an online social platform that connects participants of the technology ecosystem." The ArabCrunch Group supports an entire "Arab centric technology ecosystem." I'm very impressed by these guys and the work they are doing; this is exactly the kind of project the Arab world needs. I'm growing more and more convinced that the development of this region won't come from government initiatives or US foreign assistance; it will come from these motley crews of talented young Arabs who can sip some Arab coffee, push up their glasses, and write business plans or computer code. These guys are the future.

Unfortunately, they're mad--mad because at the same time Secretary Clinton delivered her speech, US laws are blocking access to crucial websites in sanctioned countries. Among these websites are LinkedIn (the Facebook of the professional business world), SourceForge, (the largest open source hosting website in the world), and code.google.com (another open source hosting website). ArabCrunch campaigning has restored partial access to some of these sites, but functionality is still curtailed. I sympathize with their frustrations; as a hobbyist programmer myself, I can't stress enough how important the open source software community is for developers. I use code from SourceForge and Google all the time. If we want to empower these guys to build the future of the Arab world, we need to open up the Internet--as Secretary Clinton said--not play a role in censoring it.

Al-Qa'ida terrorizes Muslims

2010-01-25T11:59:00.004+02:00

The Combating Terrorism Center at West Point, which consistently produces fantastic research on terrorist threats, has done a great service with its new report. Deadly Vanguards: A Study of Al-Qai'da's Violence Against Muslims uses exclusively Arabic-language news sources to estimate how many Westerners vs. non-Westerners have died at the hands of al-Qa'ida. Since a picture is worth a thousand words, here is the key chart:

The report's conclusion says, "Al-Qa'ida represents itself as the vanguard of the Muslim community, committed to upholding Islamic values and defending Muslim people against Western forces, but its behavior represents a callous attitude toward the lives of those the group claims to protect."

This is a message that needs to get out in the Muslim world as frequently and loudly as possible. None of my friends or colleagues here in Jordan like al-Qai'da (my Muslim friends tell me that al-Qa'ida members are not true Muslims, and my secular friends just dismiss them with an angry "f**k al-Qai'da"), but I'm still going to throw a copy of this report in my backpack. I'm looking forward to the day I can pull it out in a classroom discussion.

Zenpundit on the Post-COIN Era

2010-01-25T11:55:00.003+02:00

Looks like SWJ has already picked this up, but zenpundit has a great post about the status of the COIN debate, set in the broader context of domestic American politics. It's short and well worth the read.

Things I've Learned #2: All worldchanging is local

2010-01-23T06:53:00.003+02:00

I've always cared about making the world a better place. I joined the military partly out of a strong, idealistic belief that US power could be a force for good. I care deeply about global ills like poverty, war, genocide, child soldiering, and sex trafficking. I'm not particularly interested in my career; I'm more interested in where I can go to "make a difference." I spend a lot of time thinking about how I can use my unique experience and abilities in the service of greater good.

My idealism didn't last long on active duty, but even as a committed realist, I still care deeply about making the world a better place. That's why my blog is titled "Building Peace" and that's why I'm living in the Middle East. After a couple years on active duty, watching our country make preventable mistakes because key leaders so deeply misunderstood the region, obtaining an Olmsted scholarship became my new life goal: I would learn the Arabic language, learn the culture, and learn everything I could about the region, so that someday, when I was the guy sitting in a position of authority somewhere, I would know how to make a better decision than my predecessors. My dad once asked me why I was constantly reading "The Economist" or "Foreign Affairs" on Christmas vacations instead of anything fun. I told him that I wasn't studying for the job I'm in now; I was preparing for the job I want to hold in twenty years. I was moved by a visit to Churchill's underground war rooms in London where, at the end of the tour, I saw this quote: "I felt as if I were walking with destiny, and that all my past life had been but a preparation for this hour and for this trial." When would my hour or my trial come? When would my moment come to change the world?

I got the scholarship I desired. I'm learning Arabic. I'm living in the Middle East. But it didn't take me very long at all to realize something crucial: I'm not that important. I speak Arabic pretty well, but 250 million Arabs speak it far better (and a lot of them also speak English). The military produces a lot of people who are way smarter than I am. I'll have a good career ahead of me in sha' allah, but there is never going to be a job where I can say, "Ah, this is my moment to bring positive change to the world." At what point do you start making a difference? When you're a colonel? A general? An undersecretary? The head of a think tank? The President? Look at how little President Obama has been able to steer the ship of American foreign policy, despite his firm intentions to change course. I've realized that no one person or office is equipped to change the world.

So what is a would-be worldchanger supposed to do? I've learned to get realistic. I've realized that all worldchanging is local. It's like the old saying: life is a journey, not a destination. If we wait for a life situation that will let us change the world, most of us will be disappointed (or will cause tremendous damage). The real worldchangers are the ones who routinely leave small imprints at every step of the journey. They bring positive change wherever they are planted. The best thing we can do is live actively and selflessly within our sphere of influence, however big or small that might be.

My predecessor in Jordan, a good friend and fantastic officer who also flies C-17s, had a good philosophy about this. He was moved by a Biblical passage about an occupying Roman centurion that helps the local Jews build a synagogue. My friend wanted to offer these sorts of small blessings wherever he could, one person at a time. He helped his Arabic tutor get a job at DLI. He helped a friend from university fill out visa paperwork and apply for a work-study program in the US (it was a life-changing experience for this friend). He helped his professor's son apply for an exchange program at West Point (he got in and is studying there now). He did a fantastic job using his unique situation, experience, and knowledge to serve and help others. I'm trying to adopt the same philosophy.

I've never read the book Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, but someone told me about one of its models, which I've always found helpful. All of us have a large "sphere of concern" that includes those issues we care about--everything from faith, family, friends, and hobbies on up to the big issues like war, health care policy, and the economic crisis. Within that circle we have a much smaller "sphere of influence", which encompasses all the things we can actually affect in our lives. It might include things like our personal relationships, our local community, our job, our volunteer activities, how we vote, or where we give our money. The best any of us can do is live well within our sphere of influence. We can also try to expand our sphere of influence, which will allow us to work more effectively for the things we care about. My current scholarship is a perfect example. These same rules apply whether you're sixteen years old or the President of the United States.

If we all took this advice to heart, the world would be a better place. Globalization has shrunk our world and made our spheres of concern larger than ever; it's easy to feel crushed by the weight of the war in Afghanistan or the earthquake in Haiti. The sense of helplessness leads to a lot of fear and anger. Recognizing the difference between the sphere of concern and the sphere of influence is liberating; it teaches humility, helps us admit we can't change all these problems by ourselves, and gives us freedom to live peacefully within our own local domain. At the same time, most of us never really explore our full circle of influence (how many Americans vote?). If we really believe that all worldchanging is local, there is a lot we can do.

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Thing I've Learned #1: Don't get angry unless you mean to

A Cross-Cultural Story

2010-01-23T06:36:00.003+02:00

Here's a cross-cultural story about the international incident I almost caused. It just goes to show that you never know where cross-cultural misunderstandings can flare up.

A few months ago my family and I went on a brief vacation to the Jordanian coastal city of Aqaba. On the way we stopped at a gas station/rest stop in the middle of the desert. I stocked up on junk food, then asked some of the locals if there was a bathroom. They directed me to an adjacent building, which was apparently part of the rest stop. The men's room was clearly marked. I went inside and saw a sight familiar to any American: a long trough against one wall, with a few spigots for rinsing/flushing. Ah yes, the trough urinal. I stood looking at it. Something didn't seem quite right; I'd never seen a trough urinal in the country before. I decided to explore a little more. Deeper in the bathroom I found ordinary urinals, took care of business, and left.

I didn't think about it again until I stopped at the same rest stop recently. The parking lot was packed. Men were pouring into the building. This was a mosque, I realized; the nondescript building must house a prayer room for travelers. I went inside to use the bathroom, and saw a crowd of men standing in what I'd mistaken for a trough urinal--washing their feet to cleanse themselves before prayers.

I have no idea what the consequence is for peeing in the ceremonial foot-washing trough, but I'm happy I didn't find out.

C-17 Airdrops in Haiti

2010-01-19T10:36:00.002+02:00

I saw this mentioned briefly on BBC. I can't imagine what kind of DZ the military opened up in Haiti, but these must be some pretty hair-raising missions. Good job, guys.

The Wargame I Want

2010-01-19T08:03:00.002+02:00

I've seen a few articles floating around the blogosphere about the red vs. blue wargames we play at our Professional Military Education schools. No one thinks they have much relevance to the wars we actually fight. I tend to agree. I've thought a lot about how to improve the wargames I've played in the Air Force. Is it possible to make an game relevant to small wars? If Air Force wargames mostly consist of assigning aircraft to missions, how can we do that it in a way that teaches young officers to think critically about the human terrain of a counterinsurgency environment?

I read an article at Air & Space Power Journal a couple years ago about the way that the Air Force generally does bomb damage analysis (I can't search for it now, because Air University's site is firewalled here in Jordan). The author explained that BDA was usually treated as little more than a percentage of destruction. You kept sending sorties until a target was destroyed. That's certainly how the wargames tend to work. The author argued that we need a richer, multifaceted system for bomb damage analysis. We wouldn't just measure enemy killed or infrastructure destroyed; we would measure the political effects of each attack among key population groups. I have no insider knowledge, but I suspect this kind of analysis is happening much more regularly now. If we could work this mentality into our wargames, I think they'd be far more applicable to the real world.

This is the wargame I want: a simple, elegant game designed to teach new lieutenants how to think about the strategic effects of airpower. A game demonstrating that airpower is about more than destroying targets; it's about creating effects in a complex human landscape. A game where overwhelming firepower might achieve your political objectives in some scenarios, but limited strikes against the right targets is more effective in others. A game where you can destroy every target on the board and still lose.

Here's how it would work. You'd have some kind of basic map with various elements of civilization scattered around it: towns, villages, etc. You'd also have potential targets, like enemy strongholds, water and electrical infrastructure, government offices, communications facilities, etc. You would also have a political/human map that is largely invisible to the player when the game begins: a web of relationships between all the factions that have a stake in the country. These are your ethnic groups, your tribes, your government parties, your insurgents, your criminals. These are also your outside actors, like neighboring countries. Every mission you fly would have effects in this human landscape. Intelligence missions might identify which factions are present in which locations. Airstrikes against one faction might cripple them, win you support among their arch-enemies, and appall everybody else. Or let's say you're trying to root out criminals in one town. Too little firepower will allow some to escape to neighboring villages, complicating your problem. Too much firepower will kill civilians and alienate the broader population.

Scenarios would be customizable, and your goals would be expressed in terms of this political, human terrain. Theoretically, such a game could bridge the conventional/COIN debate. One scenario (or an early phase of a multi-stage scenario) could simply require destroying a faction--say, the Iraqi government. A John Warden-style strategic air campaign would do the job nicely, but the amount of damage you do the country's infrastructure could have a big impact on the difficulty of the following stage: stomping out a multi-pronged insurgency while winning legitimacy for a new government. Good intelligence would become of prime importance. Airstrikes would have to be used with great care. Trying to maintain the allegiance of various factions who despise each other would take considerable skill.

That's the general outline, anyway. Now, obviously, the Air Force isn't going to go fight these kinds of wars all by itself. You really would need to include ground forces, development, and political elements to make a comprehensive game. You could possibly give the playing team control of these features, or you could let the game's AI control abstractions of them. The point isn't to create a full-scale simulation of a counterinsurgency environment; the goal is a simplified exercise that teaches new Air Force officers how to think critically across the full spectrum of conflict.