Author Archives: Daveed Gartenstein-Ross

Terry Jones and U.S. Foreign Policy

by Daveed Gartenstein-Ross Posted on September 12, 2012

Today, a lot of attention was devoted to an anti-Islam film that may have played a causal role in recent anti-U.S. protests in Libya, Egypt, and Tunisia. For the record, I am skeptical that this film actually motivated the attack in Libya, which seems to have been planned in advance, but its role in motivating the Egypt and Tunisia protests is more plausible. The U.S. military is taking the anti-Islam film seriously enough that Gen. Martin Dempsey, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, called Florida pastor Terry Jones on Wednesday and “asked him to withdraw his support” for the film. Jones didn’t serve as the film’s producer, as was erroneously reported early on, but had planned to show it on his website. Dempsey’s major concern is the possibility for the film provoking violence in Afghanistan: when Jones was responsible for the burning of a Qur’an in March 2011, it caused deaths at a U.N. compound in Mazar-e Sharif.

It’s unclear if Jones will withdraw his support for the film. However, it is clear that one otherwise inconsequential man holding American foreign policy hostage (albeit to a small yet deadly degree) through his actions is going to be an ongoing part of twenty-first century diplomacy, something that has been enabled through advances in communication technology. I wrote about Jones, and his previous stunt, in Bin Laden’s Legacy. My analysis there remains applicable in light of this new incident:

There are, of course, many clear advantages to advances in communication technology. Important voices that would have been marginalized or ignored two decades ago have been able to play a role in public debates. At its best, access to numerous competing sources of information can produce instantaneous fact-checking and expose one to a diversity of perspectives, thus producing more accurate and nuanced analysis. But there is also a clear dark side to these advances. They not only empower deserving voices that illuminate otherwise neglected aspects of an issue, they can also empower the voices of those who don’t really deserve a podium: the bigots, the demagogues, and the charlatans.

Even one individual can hold America’s foreign policy hostage to some degree. This was the case with Terry Jones, an obscure Florida pastor who became a major international news story in September 2010 when he threatened to burn a Qur’an. Even General David Petraeus weighed in on Jones’s threats, arguing that burning Islam’s holy book would endanger U.S. forces. Although Jones didn’t follow through on his threat in 2010, in March 2011 he organized a mock trial of the Qur’an in which he served as the judge. (This “trial” also featured attorneys for the prosecution and defense, as well as witnesses.) At the end, Jones declared the Qur’an guilty, and it was set aflame.

Less than two weeks later, an angry crowd in Mazar-e Sharif, Afghanistan, attacked a U.N. compound and killed at least eight people. Although there were multiple responsible parties for this outbreak of violence—not least the crowd itself, as well as President Hamid Karzai—this illustrates how one lone extremist can cause deaths halfway around the world and threaten critical U.S. foreign-policy objectives. One aid worker in Afghanistan commented at the time, “This is not the beginning of the end for the international community in Afghanistan. This is the end. Terry Jones and others will continue to pull anti-Islam stunts and opportunistic extremists here will use those actions to incite attacks against foreigners. Unless we, the internationals, want our guards to fire on unarmed protesters from now on, the day has come for us to leave Afghanistan.”

It will be virtually impossible to stop rogue individuals like Jones from igniting similar controversies. Their impact can be mitigated, but one reality of life in the early twenty-first century is that lone nuts can influence geopolitics in ways they couldn’t have twenty years ago. In 1991, Jones would most likely have been consigned to the letters-to-the-editor section of the local newspaper, his Qur’an-burning antics earning no more than local exposure.

Stunts like this will have international ramifications again in the future, and lives will be lost as a result. This new dynamic needs to be understood, and deserves serious discussion.

Posted in Libya | Tagged Afghanistan, David Petraeus, Egypt, Hamid Karzai, Martin Dempsey, Mazar-e Sharif, Terry Jones, Tunisia | 6 Comments

LIFG and Al Qaeda: A Response to Zelin

by Daveed Gartenstein-Ross Posted on September 9, 2012

On Friday, I had a post at G&L questioning the field’s conventional wisdom that a) there is currently no relationship between the Libyan Islamic Fighting Group (LIFG) and al Qaeda, and b) LIFG is almost entirely nationalist in orientation, or else regionally focused, rather than embracing an ideology of global jihad. My contention is not that there is more likely than not a relationship between LIFG and al Qaeda at present, nor that there are more likely than not large parts of LIFG that embrace an ideology of global jihad, but rather that I am unpersuaded by the assertion that neither of these are true. Aaron Zelin took issue with my post on Twitter, and Will McCants also disagreed for the same reasons that Zelin provided. I respect both Zelin and McCants enormously, but I think they are both over-interpreting the available evidence while giving insufficient weight to contradictory data — which was my critique of the field’s understanding of this issue in the first place. This entry will be devoted to answering Zelin’s objections.

But first, I would like to say a word or two about what I mean by “LIFG.” As noted in my last post, there is a serious question of what LIFG is today, and whether it even exists. Jihadi groups go in and out of existence, or adopt new names, frequently. A good example of a group that was significantly disrupted, and became defunct in name, but wasn’t truly gone, is Somalia’s Al Ittihad al Islamiya (AIAI). The noted Somalia specialist Ken Menkhaus explains in his 2004 volume Somalia: State Collapse and the Threat of Terrorism that after Gen. Mohamed Siad Barre’s regime collapsed in 1991, AIAI attempted to seize “targets of opportunity” throughout the country. The only location it held for a sustained period was the town of Luuq, near the border with Ethiopia and Kenya. From there, AIAI carried out a string of attacks into Ethiopia, including assassinations and bombings from 1996-97 that reached Addis Ababa. In response, Ethiopian forces intervened and smashed AIAI. Soon, Menkhaus writes, AIAI was regarded as ”a spent force, marginal if not defunct as an organization.” But, it would have been wrong to simply hold that AIAI no longer existed at that point, had become irrelevant. Indeed, the old leadership of AIAI would resurface as a critical part of the Islamic Courts Union (ICU), such that analysts correctly note a continuity between those two groups. The question “what is AIAI up to today?” would have been highly relevant in 2004, and indeed could have helped analysts to anticipate significant developments in 2006, such as the ICU’s seizure of Mogadishu.

Another jihadi group, Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT), has used different names and different banners in an effort to confuse its foes. As V.S. Subrahmanian and his co-authors write in an interesting new study about LeT, the group used this strategy just before Pakistani president Pervez Musharraf banned it in January 2002. Subrahmanian et al. note that “weeks before on December 24, 2001, LeT leader Hafez Saeed declared that LeT and MDI [the Markaz al-Dawa Irshad] were now separated and that he no longer had any affiliation with LeT. Further, MDI reverted to the name Jamaat ud-Dawa (Society for Preaching–JuD).” This was an organizational split in name only, as LeT continued to use JuD offices as its own.

So when I speak of what LIFG is doing today and what it believes, I am not referring to what an entity that calls itself LIFG is doing. Nor am I asking what a few stragglers from the organization are doing. Rather, I am interested in critical leaders from LIFG, and their followers, and LIFG’s militant apparatus. And for my money, we don’t know enough about them to say they are definitely, or even overwhelmingly likely to be, unconnected to al Qaeda and an ideology of global jihad. While one could object to my entire question on definitional grounds, and claim that there is no longer a LIFG so the question is irrelevant, the implication of this argument should be clear: if there is no longer a LIFG, there is also no longer a group that would feel itself bound by LIFG’s 2009 revisions.

So, turning to Zelin’s specific objections:

Zelin’s first objection: Ex-LIFG members that joined AQC [al Qaeda core] did so in an individual capacity. The so-called “merger” was rejected by LIFG leadership.

This response is overly focused on a single event, the merger that Abu Layth al Libi and Ayman al Zawahiri announced of LIFG and al Qaeda in 2007, and that was later repudiated by the organization’s imprisoned leadership when it issued revisions in 2009. But a relationship between LIFG and al Qaeda preceded the revisions by about two decades, as this report that Evan Kohlmann wrote for the NEFA Foundation in 2007 makes clear. To highlight a few (though by no means all) of his data points:

LIFG members were present in Afghanistan shortly after al Qaeda was founded in 1988, and were considered an early affiliate (pp. 3-4).
LIFG was present in Sudan from 1992-95 during Osama bin Laden’s time in that country, and about twenty LIFG members were part of the Islamic Army Shura that bin Laden formed (p. 5). This was not always a warm and friendly relationship; as is often the case within jihadi circles, it included its share of arguments and tensions.
After bin Laden was forced from Sudan and returned to Afghanistan, LIFG began to view that country, by 1998, as “the preferred venue for LIFG recruits seeking extremist indoctrination and military training.” During this time, “LIFG leaders managed to put aside some of their past frustrations with al Qaeda.” John Negroponte noted, during his time as the U.S.’s director of national intelligence, that during this period LIFG “expanded its goals to include anti-Western jihad alongside Al Qaeda.”
LIFG fought beside al Qaeda in Afghanistan after the U.S. invaded. Illustrating this, Kohlmann writes, “In 2002, Khalden training camp manager Abu Zubaydah was captured by security forces in a residence in Faisalabad, Pakistan alongside at least three LIFG operatives and a fourth individual also ‘known to have ties to the LIFG.’ Other LIFG members were captured by U.S. forces on the battlefield in Afghanistan and subsequently transferred to the U.S. prisoner camp at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba.”
LIFG’s alleged involvement in 2003 terrorist attacks in Morocco illustrate that at that time, ambitions outside of Libya and also a general anti-West orientation may have been prevalent within the group. Kohlmann writes, “In May 2003, senior LIFG leaders based in Europe allegedly conspired with their North African allies in the GICM to help plan and facilitate a wave of suicide bombing attacks on targets in the Moroccan city of Casablanca that killed over 40 people and caused more than 100 injuries. The attacks focused on Western and ‘Jewish’ interests, including community centers, a restaurant, and a hotel. British-based LIFG Shura Council member Abdelrahman al-Faqih—who ‘has a history of GICM-related activity’ and has served as a key liaison between the LIFG and the GICM—was convicted in absentia by the Rabat Criminal Court of Appeals in Morocco for his alleged involvement in the Casablanca bombings.”
LIFG commanders, including Abu Layth al Libi and Abu Yahya al Libi, held prominent positions within al Qaeda prior to the 2007 merger.
LIFG also strongly supported the jihad in Iraq. Kohlmann writes, ”Eager to continue its war against the West as the battlefield shifted from Afghanistan to Iraq, the ‘LIFG has called on Muslims everywhere to fight the U.S. in Iraq,’ according to U.S. Director of National Intelligence John Negroponte. In October 2004, al Qaeda supporters in Libya posted an open request on Arabic-language Internet chat forums to the chief of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi’s media wing regarding Libyan national Khalid al-Zaidi—who allegedly survived combat with U.S. forces in Iraq only to be subsequently killed back home in Libya. According to the message, ‘we think you have heard about [his martyrdom]… the most important thing we want from you, the Tawheed wal-Jihad Movement, is to name one of your upcoming operations in his name in order to show support for your brothers in the land of Libya.’”

Focusing only on Abu Layth al Libi’s merger of LIFG into al Qaeda in 2007, and its subsequent repudiation by another wing of LIFG, ignores the fact that a relationship had long existed between the two groups prior to the merger. This relationship was sometimes tense, but generally cooperative. Since a cooperative relationship had existed for such a long time, it is not impossible, nor even particularly unlikely, that it would continue in a real way even after one LIFG wing issued its revisions.

Further, neither Abu Layth al Libi nor other LIFG leaders who became part of al Qaeda can be written off as low-level individuals. They were prominent within LIFG, and when they joined al Qaeda, they brought their followers along. Nor is the fact that it took the imprisoned LIFG leadership two years to reject al Libi’s attempted merger with al Qaeda wholly irrelevant: Abu Layth al Libi purported to speak for all of LIFG in his merger announcement, so if this merger were completely out of character, and seen as outrageous by others within LIFG, shouldn’t the repudiation have come much earlier? Available evidence suggests that there might be significant LIFG factions who were both dedicated to the ideology of global jihad and also desired a working relationship with al Qaeda, even if other LIFG factions did not. It is not clear to me (though not necessarily wrong) that the imprisoned leadership that issued the revisions in 2009 should be held up as the “real” LIFG while Abu Layth al Libi’s faction is written off as marginal.

Zelin’s second objection (combining two tweets): The former LIFG leader first changed the name of the group in spring ’11 to the Libyan Islamic Movement for Change. Since then former LIFG members split into two political parties al-Watan and al-Ummah led by Belhaj and Sa’adi, respectively.

The Libyan Islamic Movement for Change was a shift adopted by LIFG’s European expatriate and historic Libya-based leadership, the same ones who supported the earlier revisions. They claimed to speak for the whole of LIFG — but then again, so did Abu Layth al Libi and his followers during the 2007 merger. It isn’t clear that the former should be given preeminence over the latter, other than the fact that the former was trending in a direction that the U.S. wanted it to — particularly given that Abu Layth al Libi’s contingent definitely had access to significant amount of resources and personnel. The question of who has a greater claim to legitimacy isn’t trivial, particularly given the salafist attacks that have erupted across Libya.

This wave of attacks on sufi shrines is unprecedented in Libya’s recent history, and suggests that whomever is carrying it out embraces an extreme for of takfirism. Who is responsible for the attacks is an open question, but it’s certain that they’re dangerous enough that the state is hesitant to openly confront them. The New York Times recently quoted Libya’s interior minister, Fawzi Abdel Aal: “If we deal with this using security we will be forced to use weapons, and these groups have huge amounts of weapons. We can’t be blind to this. These groups are large in power and number in Libya. I can’t enter a losing battle, to kill people over a grave.” This is a remarkable quote: Libya’s interior minister feels powerless to stop the destruction of sufi shrines and sites, in large part because these groups are “large in power and number,” and also well armed. Did the groups carrying out these attacks derive their organizational structure or leadership from LIFG? To be sure, we don’t know the answer, but can we say that it’s more likely than not that they didn’t?

Zelin references the emergence of al Watan (Hizb al Watan) and al Ummah (al Ummah al Wasat) as political parties. This splintering raises the question of whether or not there is still a coherent group. If not, as I asked before, should LIFG’s revisions still be considered operative? (Surely some in the group would still likely adhere to them, but could we consider them binding on all the factions that existed within LIFG?) But moreover, in Libya engaging in the political process is not inconsistent with maintaining a militia capable of undertaking violent actions outside of it. Abdal Hakim Bilhaj is a good example, as he continues to head the Tripoli Military Council (TMC) despite his official resignation on May 15, 2012. According to open source reports, the TMC, one of Libya’s most powerful militias, has a large number of former LIFG members. Estimates of its total size range from 5,000 to 25,000 members.

Zelin’s third objection: Indeed, there are former LIFG elements around Libya that didn’t buy into politics, see al-Qumu, but it’s not under the LIFG banner.

It is true that they aren’t operating under the LIFG banner at this point, but I assess that as less important than Zelin thinks it is. The fact is that in Libya:

There are a large amount of takfiri attacks being carried out against sufi targets, and we don’t know to whom those attacks should be attributed.
There are credible reports of an al Qaeda presence inside Libya (as detailed in my previous post), and we don’t have a great deal of granular knowledge about it.
We don’t have a good idea of what became of a large portion of the fighters within LIFG (although some are accounted for, such as those who are now in the TMC).

There is, in essence, a lot that we don’t know, and hence the need for a great deal of analytic humility about what might be happening. I think the banner that a group operates under is less relevant than where its structure and members came from. If I wrote a post about Somalia in 2004 arguing that AIAI might be trying to consolidate power, one could reasonably object that they weren’t doing so under the banner of AIAI. That would be true enough, but also somewhat beside the point: for practical purposes, AIAI was trying to consolidate power then, but we didn’t really know what to call them. Asking about AIAI in 2004 would not only not be wrong, but would in fact be the exact right question to ask if you wanted to understand Somalia’s future. Until we can name the specific factions that have emerged from LIFG, I think it is fair to ask what LIFG is up to now, and also to question whether its revisions in fact represent the overwhelmingly dominant view among LIFG members/former LIFG members.

So, to highlight my points of difference with Zelin:

I believe that focusing only on Abu Layth al Libi’s attempted merger with al Qaeda and the subsequent 2009 revisions ignores a history between LIFG and al Qaeda that covers about two decades. There is much more to the connection between the two organizations than just the attempted merger.
I don’t think it’s self-evident that we should find that legitimacy lies only with the imprisoned leaders who issued revisions in 2009, and not with Abu Layth al Libi’s faction that also claimed to act in the name of LIFG when it merged with al Qaeda. I think it is reasonable to say that it seems LIFG has been somewhat fluid, possessing more than a single faction, and that both nationalist and also global jihad-oriented factions have existed within the group. Given the dearth of information we have about Libya, I don’t see how we can conclude that the overwhelming majority of LIFG members endorse the positions expressed in the revisions.
Further, in my previous entry, I noted that other aspects of LIFG’s revisions, such as the pledge not to fight Qaddafi’s regime, were abandoned. This calls into question, at least in a small way, how binding the totality of the revisions will be.
The best objection to my argument (which Zelin seems to hint at) is that LIFG simply does not exist at this point. (This entry makes clear that the question what is LIFG? does not have a straightforward answer.) But this argument begs the question: what do we call armed groups whose structure and leadership is inherited from LIFG, if we don’t have another name for them at this point? And should their history within LIFG be seen as irrelevant to their current form, function, and logic?
Further, to the extent that one argues that LIFG does not exist, that undermines the importance of LIFG’s revisions. If there is no LIFG, there’s also no longer a group that has endorsed the revisions.
I believe that the banner a group is operating under is relevant, but we cannot view it as absolutely determinative. If a group’s leadership and structure derives from a previous organization (i.e. LIFG), then that group can sometimes be functionally seen as a continuation of the previous organization rather than a wholly new thing.

The bottom line is that there is a hell of a lot that analysts don’t know about violent non-state actors operating in Libya. And the more we don’t know, the more we should be open to possibilities that defy the conventional wisdom. That is particularly the case for LIFG and al Qaeda: the two groups’ fairly long relationship should make it difficult to say with confidence that any working relationship is only a thing of the past.

Posted in Al Qaeda, Libya | Tagged Aaron Zelin, Al Ittihad al Islamiya, Ethiopia, Hafez Saeed, John Negroponte, Ken Menkhaus, Lashkar-e-Taiba, Mohamed Siad Barre, Osama bin Laden, Pervez Musharraf, Somalia, V.S. Subrahmanian, Will McCants | Leave a comment

The Libyan Islamic Fighting Group, Al Qaeda, and Epistemology

by Daveed Gartenstein-Ross Posted on September 7, 2012

Yesterday I was quoted in a Spencer Ackerman article over at Wired, saying, “We don’t know whether there is a current relationship between LIFG [the Libyan Islamic Fighting Group] and al Qaeda.” I wanted to expand upon that quote here, because I feel that it represents a minority opinion within my field: I believe that most analysts with an opinion on the matter would argue that we do know whether there is a current relationship between LIFG and al Qaeda, and that the correct answer is that there is none.

The argument for the lack of relationship between LIFG and al Qaeda is pretty straightforward. I also believe that it is wrong: not that the opposite is true, but that analysts are drawing too strong a conclusion based on the available evidence. First, let me outline the case for LIFG and al Qaeda having no relationship as clearly as possible. The case is rooted in a series of revisions that LIFG published in September 2009, which Paul Cruickshank discusses in this CTC Sentinel article. Among other things, the revisions contained a repudiation of al Qaeda’s ideology. Cruickshank argues that the revisions constitute “the most significant critique of al Qaeda that has yet emerged from jihadist circles.” He provides a number of reasons that observers should be optimistic about the impact that these revisions might have. One reason is that, while “LIFG never joined al Qaeda nor shared its ideology of global jihad, the close personal ties between its leaders meant that al Qaeda still considered the LIFG’s leaders brothers in arms.” Another reason is that LIFG’s critique of al Qaeda still came from a jihadi perspective, which in Cruickshank’s view meant that it was more likely to resonate with the target audience (those who might otherwise be receptive to al Qaeda’s message). Those arguing that there is no relationship between LIFG and al Qaeda point to the rejection of al Qaeda contained in the revisions, and conclude that it precludes a relationship between the two groups.

Fair enough. Now, in approaching questions like whether there is a relationship between al Qaeda and LIFG, definitional questions loom large. There are various debates about what al Qaeda means, but let us stipulate an answer that I believe analysts who think there is no LIFG/al Qaeda relationship would agree with: that in saying there is no LIFG/al Qaeda relationship, they are saying a) that LIFG does not have links to al Qaeda’s core leadership, and b) that it is now a regionally focused or nationalist group rather than one with global ambitions. (The revisions explicitly reject al Qaeda’s ideology of global jihad.)

The definitional questions become more difficult, though, when we ask what LIFG is today. Does it even exist? Fox News noted this summer that LIFG is “purportedly moribund,” which is accurate, but that doesn’t mean that no organization that we could describe as LIFG exists. There is a long tradition of jihadi groups shedding old names and adopting new ones (Lashkar-e-Taiba and its affiliates provide a great example of this practice): if an organization remains that is comprised of high-profile members of the old LIFG, it would be fair to see it as a continuation of LIFG even if it goes by a new name. If LIFG or a successor organization currently exists, who is its emir? What does its organizational structure look like? Does it make decisions in a centralized or decentralized manner? Abdal Hakim Bilhaj is frequently described as LIFG’s “former emir.” Does that mean he can still be considered a LIFG leader? The answers one can discern from open-source information are less than clear. Thus, one reason it is difficult to answer the question of a relationship between LIFG and al Qaeda should be apparent: what LIFG means in this context is far less clear than the sometimes perplexing question of what we mean by al Qaeda.

Let’s sidestep this question entirely without diminishing its importance, and turn to a more basic problem with the argument that the revisions preclude a relationship between LIFG and al Qaeda: I think it is, in fact, rather apparent that they do not. The revisions, after all, did not just contain a repudiation of al Qaeda: they also contained, as Cruickshank notes, a pledge to end LIFG’s campaign against Muammar Qaddafi’s regime. Yet when the opportunity arose, LIFG leaders — quite prominent among them its former emir, Bilhaj — joined the fight against the regime. Is the repudiation of al Qaeda more fundamental than the promise not to fight Qaddafi’s regime, such that key LIFG leaders would turn back to fighting the regime when the opportunity arose, yet are sure to keep their distance from al Qaeda and global jihadism? Based on where analysts fall on the issue, I think most would answer yes, but I don’t see that as self-evident.

And thus we have the point that I wanted to make about epistemology. Much of what happens in the world of violent non-state actors occurs in the shadows, such that analysts have to be very modest about what they know, and what they do not. This is even truer in the case of LIFG, for whom there are very real questions about whether it even exists, and if it does, what its leadership and organizational structure look like. I find that areas where I most frequently disagree with others in the field — and where the field often gets its answers wrong — are those where relatively broad conclusions are drawn based on only a few data points. I believe that analysts often overreach in their conclusions because they like to be able to provide answers: not knowing is a rather unsatisfactory conclusion. Thus, when most available data points suggest a certain conclusion, they will put forward the conclusion that the data points suggest they should.

That is fair, I suppose, except for one problem: when an analyst is dealing with an extremely limited set of available data points, and he knows that there is a lot more to answering the question that he simply cannot see, he should be aware that the limited data points he possesses may well have pushed him to the wrong conclusion. I recently had a similar critique of the report that West Point’s Combating Terrorism Center (CTC) produced about the documents recovered from the Abbottabad raid that killed Osama bin Laden: CTC reached broad conclusions that go far beyond what the documents actually demonstrate. Sometimes all you can say is that you have some suggestive data points, but that the data points do not answer the question. And I think this is the case here: that the conclusion that LIFG has no globally-oriented faction, and no relationship with al Qaeda, does not follow from the fact that the revisions exist. The revisions are not irrelevant, but neither do they provide a definitive answer to the question.

That is the epistemological point that I wanted to make before inundating readers with my own evidence. If you were more interested in the broad argument, you can stop reading. But if you’re actually interested in LIFG, global jihadism, and al Qaeda, the following data points will be relevant:

There appears to still be a pro-al Qaeda faction within what can currently be described as LIFG. Old leaders such as Abu Layth al Libi, Abdal Ghaffar al Libi, Abdullah Sa’id al Libi, Urwah (Abu Malik al Libi), and Abu Yahya al Libi are dead, but a review of open source information reveals that such figures as Anas al Libi, Abu Shahin al Darnawi, Abu Raghad al Libi, Abu Ishaq Hamzah al Libi, Abu Hafs al Darnawi, and Sufyan bin Qumu remain active in Libya.
Those figures within LIFG who publicly sided with al Qaeda after LIFG’s revisions were never expelled from the group. Overlapping membership does not mean LIFG was cooperating with al Qaeda, but it suggests that the distinction many analysts now draw — that within LIFG there is only a regional focus — is too sharp.
The aforementioned Urwah, a senior LIFG commander, was killed in April 2011 while fighting to retake Al Burayqah. His background prior to returning to Libya is suggestive of al Qaeda connections. He had been detained in Iran in 2004, and was released from Iranian custody in late 2010. A large number of al Qaeda figures were held in Iran during this time period, and released around the time Urwah was released.
There have been multiple reports of an al Qaeda presence in Libya. Within the Algerian press, sources making this claim include El Fadjr Online (Aug. 3, 2011, describing al Qaeda’s presence in eastern Libya), El Khabar Online (Sept. 3, 2011; Sept. 12, 2011); and Echourouk El Youmi Online (Oct. 2o, 2011). Lest one think this is nothing more than Algerian propaganda, Daniel Benjamin, the U.S. State Department’s counterterrorism coordinator, has noted that “the terrorist threat has become more complex with some changes in the region, particularly in Libya.” If there is in fact an increasing al Qaeda presence in Libya (something that these reports do not prove with absolute certainty), where is it coming from? It’s unlikely that the increasing al Qaeda presence would come entirely from foreigners who migrated there; and if you’re looking at Libyan groups containing factions that might lean toward al Qaeda, LIFG would at the top of your list of suspects.
Further underscoring this point, Algeria’s Echourouk El Youmi reported on Aug. 29, 2011, that AQIM was attempting to find new allies among Libyan rebels, “particularly since among them there are some old elements who were active in the so-called the Libyan Combat Group.”
According to an October 2011 post on the jihadi web forum Ansar al Mujahedin (that was subsequently removed) the former head of the jihadi media group Global Islamic Media Front (GIMF), Ahmad al Wathiq Billah, was serving as Bilhaj’s media adviser. Billah was freed from a Libyan prison earlier in 2011.
Writing in London’s Al Hayah in June 2012, Kamil al Tawil noted that there are likely three types of jihadis in Libya. The first is the “old guard” — and he includes Bilhaj in this category — who “seem to have adopted an explicit decision to abandon the armed action.” The second type is “second generation” jihadis who feel no loyalty to LIFG, and objected to the dialogue with the Qaddafi regime that produced the group’s revisions. Tawil writes that this group “is extremely enthusiastic to join what it considers to be ‘jihad,’” and that this is the type of jihadi who would gravitate toward the Syrian conflict. (A number of Libyan fighters have gone to the Syrian front.) And the third type of jihadi is former LIFG members “who now consider themselves as part of al Qaeda, whether through its central command at the Afghan-Pakistani borders, or through its branch in North Africa, Al Qaeda in the Lands of Islamic Maghreb. These jihadis could be considered as a part of the branch of the Islamic Fighting Group, which joined al Qaeda in 2007, and which was led by the late Abu Layth al Libi in Afghanistan.”

None of this constitutes a smoking gun proving there is a global jihadi faction within LIFG or a LIFG-al Qaeda relationship. However, I consider these data points suggestive, enough that they make me skeptical of the definitive answer that many analysts have adopted based upon a single data point.

Posted in Al Qaeda, Libya | Tagged Epistemology, Libyan Islamic Fighting Group, Spencer Ackerman | 3 Comments

The Public Sphere is Failing Because We Are Failing

by Daveed Gartenstein-Ross Posted on September 4, 2012

In late May, I met my friend and G&L colleague Jonathan Rue for drinks in Washington’s Chinatown district. The day, even as evening approached, could best be described as scorching, a sign of the curiously hot summer to follow. My conversation with Jonathan was typically wide-ranging, but one topic we discussed at some length was the contemporary public sphere.

You may or may not agree — and the purpose of this blog entry, somewhat atypical for my offerings, is not to persuade — but we both had a very sour view of the contemporary public sphere. Bear in mind that “public sphere” is a broad and somewhat amorphous term. When some people use it, they refer to the talking heads on CNN, MSNBC, Fox, and the like, as well as op-eds in major newspapers. Other definitions are more expansive, including blogs and perhaps even that curious beast known as Twitter. I would submit that the more constrained definitions are overly narrow: as Robert Gates has noted, today we have “hundreds of cable channels, blogs and other electronic media,” a dynamic that ensures that “every point of view, including the most extreme, has a ready vehicle for wide dissemination.” G&L is indisputably a part of the public sphere; and so too, I would say, are the various observations, discussions, and running jokes made on Twitter — as annoying or profound as they may be. The inexorable conclusion that Jonathan and I reached was that the public sphere was failing despite — or perhaps because of — our efforts.

Now, the title to this post is not some admission that we at G&L have failed in our mission. Rather, it is a way of saying that when I, or you, criticize the public sphere, we are not attacking some distant object in which we have no role. We are attacking a sphere of which we are a part — and so, perhaps, no one is innocent. As I said, the purpose of this post is not to persuade, but rather to ask relevant questions that I think can define any discussion about the shape of the public sphere:

How much of what you read represents intelligent thinking about an issue? In contrast, how frequently could you have predicted an author’s conclusion, reasoning, and perhaps even evidence deployed even before reading his or her offering? Is intelligent writing found more or less frequently when you look to writers with the biggest audiences?
How much of what you read teaches you something new? In other words, how much of what you glean from the public sphere provides new angles, insights, or even data points?
In contrast, how often do those writing in the public sphere deploy their evidence dishonestly? How frequently do authors write in such a way that readers who either aren’t fact-checking them or else are ideologically predisposed to agree will feel persuaded –when in reality the authors are manipulating their data points in large or small ways? Are the most prominent of polemicists, those with the biggest audiences, more likely to honestly or dishonestly deploy facts in service of their arguments?
How many of the pieces you read seem ideologically predetermined? That is, how often has the author apparently made up his or her mind in advance, constructing arguments around the conclusion that he or she wants to reach?
Further on the ideological predetermination point, let me assert that we live in a complex world. Few answers are obvious. Yet how many commentators offer Manichean visions wherein answers are falsely portrayed as simple, and those who disagree must be either evil or stupid? How many commentators, in contrast, can deal competently with complexity, ambiguity, and epistemological limitations? Moreover, do those who embrace a false Manichean vision find their career harmed or helped by doing so?
More on ideological predetermination: how often are commentators stigmatized on the basis of not thinking like “we” do? (And “we” is used broadly here. That is, how often is non-conforming thought stigmatized in rather nasty ways by the left, the right, or some faction purporting to protect a specific set of interests?) How often does this stigmatization only half-comprehend the argument it is attacking, portraying it in exaggerated, cartoonish, or otherwise inaccurate terms? Is the growing tendency to go after the livelihood of those with whom we disagree healthy?
How much truly innovative or cutting-edge work is the public sphere producing? For the great volume of material being produced, how much represents an improvement in our thinking? How much simply rehashes the conventional wisdom or talking points of some section of the political spectrum? And, if you think non-conforming thought is stigmatized, does the climate tend to discourage truly innovative thought?
How much of what you read is actually capable of persuading someone with a different outlook, or different ideas? How much of it is simply preaching to a choir of one ideological stripe or another?
Let me put a question I’ve hinted at a couple of times more bluntly: as commentators gain bigger audiences, do laziness and bad habits set in? Does their perceived need to weigh in constantly on a myriad of issues outstrip their ability to do so intelligently, and to master the evidence that supports (or refutes) their argument? Do they become more of a predictable “brand” whose reputation dwarfs their actual production?
To what extent does the public sphere make good use of the innovative technologies with which we are blessed? Does our massively expanded access to information and ability to publish instantaneously result in better work? Or do commentators spend more time talking and writing about big news of the day, to the exclusion of building depth of knowledge — or, perhaps, focusing on more vital issues?

With the above in mind, is the public sphere succeeding or failing? (I know, big terms, and defining success or failure is no simple task.) Is it better or worse than it was ten, twenty, thirty years ago? I offer no conclusions, nor do I claim that we are faced with a monolith. I agree with Andrew Exum, for example, about the many benefits available to a policy researcher who is engaged with social media. So, as Eric Cartman says, I’m just asking questions. I will be writing about the public sphere here from time to time, and this is an initial post anchoring the discussion.

But many who read this are a part of the public sphere, in small or large ways. That is a choice: being a part of the public sphere does not happen by default. To that extent, many readers should (presumably) have an incentive to make sure it reaches its potential. Is the public sphere reaching its potential, or is it falling short? If the latter, how short does it fall? Are debates in the public sphere more important than an amusing diversion? Or are we, to a greater or lesser extent, wasting our time?

Posted in The Public Sphere | 6 Comments

Reflections on Byman’s “Breaking the Bonds”

by Daveed Gartenstein-Ross Posted on August 12, 2012

The incisive Daniel Byman recently published a new study with the Brookings Institution’s Saban Center for Middle East Policy entitled Breaking the Bonds between al Qaeda and Its Affiliate Organizations. This is a critical topic for the contemporary study of al Qaeda driven and inspired terrorism, in large part because how we judge al Qaeda’s strength in late 2012 comes down to the question of how to assess gains made by the affiliates against losses inflicted on the core. Debates on this issue are often crude, with strong assertions made about affiliates’ connection, or lack thereof, to al Qaeda’s core without factual or theoretical substantiation. It seems that a significant amount (but by no means all) of the commentary about the relationship between core and affiliates is outcome-determined, based on whether the commentator in question wants to find a strong or weak al Qaeda.

Byman’s study can significantly sharpen this debate by providing a sound framework for such discussions. In it, he elucidates various degrees of connection between affiliates and the core; motivations for linkage from both the affiliates’ and core’s perspective; the reasons that other salafi jihadi groups have chosen not to affiliate; and possible strains in the affiliate-core relationship. Byman concludes with policy prescriptions about how the U.S. can magnify tensions between al Qaeda’s core and affiliates, and thus minimize cooperation between them. A careful reading of Byman’s report makes clear that it doesn’t try to answer the question of how tightly bound al Qaeda’s core and affiliates truly are today — which is almost certainly a wise decision, given our limited visibility into that issue based on available open source information. He does, however, provide a great deal of sound historical information that can improve our consideration of the core-affiliate relationship.

Byman provides seven different motivations that might cause a regional jihadi group to join up with al Qaeda, mustering historical examples of how each of them operated in the past. One reason is failure, when a salafi jihadi group’s inability to make progress in its fight against a local regime produces an internal crisis. Second, there are monetary considerations, with both al Qaeda’s core and also certain powerful affiliates (such as al Qaeda in Iraq during its heyday) being able to influence other groups due to their prosperity, at least by jihadi standards. Third, a safe haven from which to operate has proven to be a strong motivator for linkage in the past. Fourth, Byman notes that training, recruiting, publicity, and military experience have all been assets of the al Qaeda core; it has been able to bolster regional groups’ capabilities in all of these ways. Fifth, there is the issue of a common defense. Byman writes, “A number of individuals or cohorts within groups that loosely cooperated or operated in proximity to al Qaeda have chosen to affiliate as a result of being subjected to counterterrorism measures.” Sixth, there have been branding benefits to affiliates, in terms of recruits and funders. Earlier I mentioned monetary considerations; yet it is unlikely that al Qaeda’s currently diminished core will be able to channel money to regional affiliates as it once did. However, despite the core’s relative weakness, al Qaeda’s brand may help these groups to raise money from al Qaeda’s donor base (such as certain individuals and foundations in the Gulf Arab states). Seventh, there is the importance of personal networks. “Once a connection among jihadists has been forged,” Byman writes, “it is very challenging for an outside party to break it, so much that because of the prevalence and breadth of personal networks, it is difficult to truly destroy jihadist organizations.”

Byman also outlines five reasons why al Qaeda’s core may want to join with new affiliates. One reason is mission fulfillment, seeking affiliates in areas where Islam is perceived to be under attack, and in turn pushing the affiliates to adopt more global agendas. Second, relevance: al Qaeda has been on the defensive ever since the 9/11 attacks unleashed U.S. and international counterterrorism efforts against the organization. Byman notes that “some of the most notorious ‘al Qaeda’ attacks since 9/11 have in fact been carried out by affiliate groups.” Third, al Qaeda’s reach will grow due to its relationship with new affiliates. Fourth, affiliates can offer logistical advantages to al Qaeda, including “access to their media resources, recruiters, and other core parts of their organization.” Fifth, al Qaeda has often been able to gain new experienced members through its relationship with affiliates.

Yet despite the advantages that both regional jihadi organizations and also al Qaeda’s core can gain through affiliation, many groups have decided not to affiliate with al Qaeda when the opportunity presented itself. One reason is ideological differences, something illustrated by the decision of Egypt’s Gama’a al Islamiyya (GI) not to affiliate with al Qaeda due to the latter’s prioritization of “jihad over other forms of Islamicization.” One GI leader, Najih Ibrahim, told the Arabic-language London daily Al Sharq Al Awsat that GI decided not to join al Qaeda “because their goal is jihad, whereas our goal is Islam.” Other reasons that Byman provides include the question of takfir (declaring other Muslims to have apostatized themselves from Islam), the targeting of civilians, local agendas that predominate over the global, the fear of taking on new enemies, limited contact or interaction between the prospective affiliate and the core, and personal rivalries. In addition to this, Byman also outlines strains that may exist in the core-affiliate relationship even where both entities have chosen to take on an explicit affiliation.

Overall, Byman’s study makes a tremendous contribution to our thinking about the relationship between al Qaeda’s core and its affiliates, and analysts trying to assess this relationship would do well to use it as a basis for thinking about this question. Byman concludes by illustrating the complexity of acting (or not) on a developing core-affiliate relationship in a way that is often not reflected in popular debates about the subject:

There are no simple choices when confronting al Qaeda affiliates. On the one hand, ignoring groups until they become affiliates, or ignoring affiliates until they strike at U.S. targets, risks leaving U.S. intelligence and security officials in a defensive and reactive mode and vulnerable to a surprise attack. On the other hand, too aggressive an approach can create a self-fulfilling prophecy, strengthening bonds between al Qaeda and other jihadist groups by validating the al Qaeda narrative and leading groups to cooperate for self-defense and organizational advancement.

For any study of this kind, I will have quibbles, find evidentiary points with which I disagree, and the like. Byman’s study is no exception. Yet the overall contribution that Byman’s study makes on this important issue renders my quibbles and minor disagreements almost beside the point. This is one of the five most relevant studies about terrorism published this year, and I encourage all readers interested in the issue to give it a careful read.

Posted in Al Qaeda, Terrorism | Tagged Daniel Byman | Leave a comment

Powering Guantánamo

by Daveed Gartenstein-Ross Posted on August 2, 2012

Last month, I undertook field research into U.S. detention policy at the detention camp operated by Joint Task Force-Guantánamo (JTF-GTMO). While out there, I had the opportunity to interview Captain John R. Nettleton, the commanding officer of Naval Station Guantánamo Bay, who only recently assumed his command. As Nettleton observed during our conversation, if you pay attention to media coverage of Gitmo, you might overlook the fact that there is a naval base at all — and that fact apparently surprises some media visitors as well. As the Turkish newspaper Today’s Zaman noted, “In what might come as a surprise to many, there are many recreational facilities at the naval base, from a golf course to an open-air cinema as well as a Starbucks Coffee and a McDonald’s restaurant.”

The Naval Station Guantánamo Bay is separate from JTF-GTMO (the latter being responsible for detentions). However, it faces some issues that other overseas bases simply do not. First and foremost, it is the only naval station located in a country with which the U.S. does not have diplomatic relations. As the U.S.’s oldest overseas base, the country has been making use of this territory since February 1903, when it first leased 45 square miles of land to use as a coaling station. In 1934, a treaty between the U.S. and Cuba affirmed the lease agreement, with the stipulation that the lease could not be terminated unless the U.S. and Cuba both agreed to it, or the U.S. abandoned the base. International agreements do not simply expire following revolutions, and hence the U.S. legally maintained its base at Guantánamo Bay even after the Fidel Castro-led revolution. However, in February 1964 Castro cut off water and other avenues of supply to the base, which forced it to be self-sustaining. It has been self-sustaining for more than forty years, generating its own power and — as of 2012 — desalinating about 1.2 million gallons of water per day.

Before “war on terror” detainees were moved to Gitmo, the base was almost in a caretaker status. That is, enough people were kept on the base to keep it going, but no money was put into maintaining buildings that were unlikely to be used again. So when JTF-GTMO began, the base was not fully manned: instead, the basic functions included guarding the perimeter, refueling ships coming through, and upkeep of the base. Most of the prominent base facilities — including the Starbucks and McDonald’s that Today’s Zaman specifically noted — are recent additions, specifically created to serve the needs that arose after JTF-GTMO’s establishment.”The JTF was created and suddenly you had a lot more people here, and that created the need to build up the base,” Nettleton told me. “All of a sudden you had a doubling of our base population. You had to feed them, clothe them, build new buildings.” Today there are over 5,400 personnel at the Naval Station Guantánamo Bay, including about 2,435 military and 2,965 civilians (of whom about 1,570 military and 320 civilian personnel are attached to the JTF).

Because the base has to be self-sustaining — and because food, supplies, building materials, etc. have to be brought in from elsewhere — that significantly increases costs at the naval station. One thing that I found particularly interesting is that a large percentage of the base’s electrical power comes from liquid fuels. Costs are not just related to the expense of the fuels themselves, but also the expense of bringing them to the naval station in the first place. Given the military’s push for green energy, I wondered if this might be an area where the base could save money in the long term.

To be clear, one of the very prominent features of the Guantánamo naval station is four windmills atop one of the hills (only three of which are functioning at present). However, only 2-3% of the base’s electricity on any given day is generated by the windmills.

Based on the sheer amount of sunlight it experiences, Guantánamo Bay also seems like it could be an ideal place to harness solar energy. And indeed, the base features a small solar field that is set inside an old high school running track that is no longer in use. But like the windmills, this solar field does not make a significant dent in the base’s overall electricity consumption.

Solar panels — The naval station’s solar field

Nettleton told me that they have been looking into a variety of alternative energy options because “this would be a great place” for it. “DoD has looked here for algae,” he said. “You can grow algae here all day long.” He also mentioned possible further development of solar power, in that new technology has been bringing down the cost of solar.

One barrier to expanding the base’s use of green energy is the cost of building new projects. The cost of transporting materials to Guantánamo Bay doesn’t just increase the expense of liquid fuels, but would also make new solar or wind projects more expensive as well. “Building anything here costs twice as much,” Nettleton told me. “You bring all the materials down, and you’re paying to have them shipped down. You’re paying a contractor to build it for you; you’re not only paying their end of the contract, but also they’re billing all their living and sleeping expenses, and everything else. So it’s twice as expensive here than it would be to build anything in the States.”

The other factor impeding green energy at Guantánamo Bay is uncertainty about the future of the base. “There is no end state in sight for the JTF,” Nettleton said. “It could end next year, or ten years from now. If you don’t know, you’re kind of in this nether region. You plan the best you can, but until the bosses make up their mind what they want to do, it is hard to make a case to invest a lot in infrastructure for 6,000 people when you don’t know if there will be 8,000 or 3,000 two years from now.”

Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments

Terrorism, Economics, and the London Olympics

by Daveed Gartenstein-Ross Posted on July 26, 2012

On July 25, I spoke on a panel at the Potomac Institute for Policy Studies on the topic of Combating Olympic Terrorism (video of which can be found here). This entry is adapted from my remarks.

Here is a provocative question: how much did hosting the 2004 Olympics contribute to Greece’s current economic meltdown?

The Olympics were probably a more significant contributor than you would intuitively think. In general, the Olympics is a very expensive spectacle event to host, and the costs of the past three summer games (including London) have skyrocketed. But cities and countries still want to host the Olympics because they realize the games can serve as a valuable investment. If you have been to a city that hosted the Olympics in the past twenty or thirty years, and paid attention to development patterns, some of the host cities have been revitalized by the Games. That is the case for Los Angeles (the 1984 host), and it isn’t difficult to discern how the Atlanta and Sydney Olympics produced development and revitalization.

But the Greece Olympics faced a double disadvantage that simply could not be foreseen when the country won the bid in 1997. The first problem was that the Athens Games would be the first post-9/11 Olympics, which increased security costs exponentially. Greece had initially budgeted about $1.6 billion for the entire Olympics, not including infrastructure and development projects. But unfortunately for Greece, the cost of security itself ended up being about as large as the entire estimated budget for hosting the Olympics. (The 2004 Olympics ran over budget in virtually every way: they cost $15 billion, about ten times as much as the initial proposed budget. This is in addition to about 20.9 billion Euros spent on venues and infrastructure upgrades.) The other problem that Greece faced was the collapse of the global economy in 2008. Because of the financial collapse, the gains that Greece expected to make from its investment in the Olympics did not materialize to the degree expected. Greece’s economic and fiscal problems obviously run far, far deeper than the Olympics — but hosting the Games did not help, and other commentators have also pointed to the causal role that the Olympics may have played in Greece’s debt crisis (along with other factors, of course).

The reason I begin with this point is because when I think about the Olympics and terrorism, the main lens I look at it through is economic. My major argument in Bin Laden’s Legacy is that al Qaeda’s strategy has focused on economics. The economy of the foe was important to Osama bin Laden since before he declared war on the United States. He first cut his teeth in the Afghan-Soviet War, and his perspective was that this war brought down the Soviet Union — that not only had he defeated a superpower on the battlefield, but also actually caused its collapse. (His self-perception was overly grandiose, of course: foreign fighters were entirely incidental to the outcome of the Afghan-Soviet war.) If you think through the logic of that perception, it clearly points to the importance of economics. Nobody would contend that leaving Afghanistan is what caused the Soviet Union to fall. Rather, the way you might get from the Afghan-Soviet war to the Soviet Union’s demise is through economics: through the argument that the costs imposed by the Afghan-Soviet war prevented the Soviet Union from adapting to other problems, such as a major grain crisis and the collapse in the worldwide price of oil (something that the Soviet Union’s budget depended upon because it was a major oil exporter).

I am not endorsing the view that the Afghan-Soviet war brought about the Soviet Union’s demise; but bin Laden thought so. He expressed that belief repeatedly, even explaining how it was the economic cost of the war that destroyed the Soviet Union. This colored his view of how to make war on a superpower. Thereafter, al Qaeda’s war against the United States and the West went through a number of identifiable phases. But the global financial crisis left an indelible impact on al Qaeda’s strategy. The group’s current strategy has been articulated in a significant document, a special issue of Inspire (the English-language online magazine of Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula) published in November 2010. That special issue dramatically illustrates the differences in how the U.S. has viewed this war and how al Qaeda perceives it.

The November 2010 issue of Inspire was a commemorative issue celebrating a plot that occurred in October 2010, in which bombs disguised as ink cartridges were put onto two planes (a Fed Ex plane and a UPS plane). What we might think is odd about the publication of this special issue of AQAP’s magazine is the fact that the group would issue a special edition of its magazine to celebrate a plot in which nobody died. Saudi Arabian intelligence was able to infiltrate the plot, and alerted U.S. officials to the danger. Locating and defusing the bombs was harrowing: after the tip came in from Saudi Arabia, the UPS plane was diverted to Britain’s East Midlands Airport, where officials cordoned off the cargo area and emptied the plane. They conducted a thorough search, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Even a seemingly innocuous printer cartridge hiding 400 grams of PETN was cleared by security. Fortunately, officials called from Dubai. They had discovered PETN in a Hewlett-Packard cartridge routed through their country, and instructed their British colleagues on how to locate the explosives, which were disguised to avoid detection by an X-ray machine. British authorities again cordoned off the area, and this time found the bomb. So the process was harrowing, but to us this was a failed plot. Yet AQAP issued a commemorative issue of their magazine devoted to it. Why?

The reason is that AQAP believed all they needed to do was get the bomb on board the plane. Anwar al Awlaki wrote in Inspire that blowing up cargo planes “would have made us very pleased but according to our plan and specified objectives it was only a plus.” He continued: “The air freight is a multi-billion dollar industry. FedEx alone flies a fleet of 600 aircraft and ships an average of four million packages per day. It is a huge worldwide industry. For the trade between North America and Europe, air cargo is indispensable and to be able to force the West to install stringent security measures sufficient enough to stop our explosive devices would add a heavy economic burden to an already faltering economy.” To Awlaki, even this failed plot is a victory, presenting the enemy with a dilemma: either Western countries spend billions to address such plots, or AQAP is free to try again.

This special issue of Inspire dubbed this late stage in al Qaeda’s economic war against the U.S. the “strategy of a thousand cuts.” In their view, they don’t need to launch another 9/11. Rather, attacks focus on driving up the West’s costs, particularly security costs, and jihadi groups hope that their foes will collapse under their own weight.

The reason I focus on al Qaeda is because when you review recent security events related to the Olympics, we can see that the threat of al Qaeda and al Qaeda’s fellow travelers looms largest in the perception of security planners. To be clear, Islamist terrorism is not the only kind about which there are concerns. There are also concerns about far-left and far-right terrorism (think Anders Breivik, or else Eric Rudolph, the 1996 Olympics bomber). There are also fears of nationalist terrorism, although I think IRA attacks are exceedingly unlikely.

In terms of Islamist terrorism, the British press reported that an alleged militant thought to have fought for Shabaab in Somalia crossed through Olympic Park five times, breaking a ban that officials had placed on him. This is not as concerning a story as it has been portrayed: the reason we know he passed through Olympic Park this many times is because he wore an electronic tracking device: when you think of the greatest threats to the Games, someone wearing an electronic tracking device isn’t going to be in your first quartile. But there have been other incidents. In June, two Muslim converts were arrested on the suspicion that they were plotting to attack the Olympic canoeing venue in Waltham Abbey, Essex. And this month two separate anti-terror operations yielded fourteen arrests. So when you look at the combination of presence, persistence, and capabilities that al Qaeda and fellow travelers have demonstrated in Britain, much of the concern about terrorism underlying terrorism-related security expenditures has been driven by them. And these security expenditures, which many now see as so routine, are enormous. They are costly to the British government, costly to Londoners, costly even to Olympic sponsors.

The London Olympics has a security force of over 50,000, including 18,200 soldiers. (This number was larger than planned because a security contractor, G4S, was unable to provide the manpower that it had promised.) In addition to security costs, there is widespread perception of a city under siege due to these measures. Visible aspects include a 17.5 kilometer electrified fence around Olympic Park, constant surveillance by closed-circuit television cameras, and six surface-to-air missiles on downtown buildings. Londoners love to complain, and there have been a lot of complaints about the Olympics, but one has to concede that there is validity to these complaints. We have sadly reached a point where the threat of terrorism — and the way that it massively increases costs for events like this, as well as imposes great inconveniences — is taken as a given.

Unfortunately, there’s no easy fix. Even if you didn’t have the threat of terrorism, security outlays would be large due to concerns about crime, crowd control, and maniacs who can’t be classified as terrorists (such as what we just witnessed in Aurora, Colorado). However, looking for ways to reduce these costs moving forward is vital. In looking at security measures that have been reported in the press, those that hold the greatest promise for cost reduction are multilateral efforts where capabilities are paired. Interpol has played a role, with workers “compiling databases on fugitives and terror suspects who shouldn’t cross borders,” as well as “keeping track of lost passports to make sure they haven’t fallen into the wrong hands.” The U.S. is also providing assistance.

Combining capabilities in this manner can help to create economies of scale, so not every country that hosts the Olympics has to rebuild the whole security apparatus again and again. When we think of the Olympics and terrorism, it is worth keeping in mind the strategy of the terrorist group that has driven the past decade of U.S. national-security policy, and the centrality of economics to this strategy. Solutions are not easy, but we should be attuned to the crushing weight imposed by security for such events.

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Islamists and Rick Santorum: A Response to Bernard Finel

by Daveed Gartenstein-Ross Posted on July 20, 2012

My recent post with Lauren Morgan, “Islamism in the Popular Imagination,” serves as a rebuttal to a remarkably inane Huffington Post article about the terminology Westerners use to describe political Islam. One rather implausible claim put forward in that piece is that Rick Santorum is in fact more extreme than are newly empowered Islamist politicians in Egypt:

In his own interviews, for example, [Mansoor] Moaddel has found that, “In some respects, Mr. Santorum is more extremist” than leading figures of Egypt’s Muslim Brotherhood, who today talk relatively less about Islamic law than about having to face the challenges of economic development and cutting back on pollution.

There are also a number of other misleading arguments advanced in the Huffington Post, as our entry outlines at length. But Bernard Finel, in a thoughtful entry that is on the whole supportive of our argument, challenges our comparison of Santorum and Islamist figures. The thrust of his argument is that — while the policies advocated, put in place, or likely to be maintained by Islamist parties are in fact worse than anything Santorum has proposed — the comparison itself is misleading:

I’d argue this is an apples to oranges comparison. Santorum’s limits are defined, I think, more by the limits imposed by American institutions rather than his ideology per se. In other words, GR is comparing institutionally unconstrained ideological positions with those heavy constrained by institutions. It actually is not at all difficult to find actors on the right who would like to see religious freedom severely curtailed.

I have two responses to this. First, in most countries where Islamist parties have been victorious or ascendant, there are in fact institutional constraints on their political programs. Egypt, Tunisia, Turkey, and Libya all have significant and very visible constraints on the agendas of their respective political parties. (Iran and Saudi Arabia, on the other hand, have institutions that in practice support theocratic rule.) That being said, Finel is correct that institutional constraints do play a role in shaping the policies that religiously-inspired political actors will advocate, or can implement, in the West versus those they will advocate or can implement in the Muslim world.

That being said, my second point is that the role of institutions doesn’t actually undercut our initial argument. (Although we didn’t mention them explicitly in the earlier post, we certainly had them in mind implicitly: for example, constraints created by the U.S. Supreme Court in Lawrence v. Texas account for some, but by no means all, of the differences in terms of the legal treatment of homosexuality.) In comparing the relative extremes of Santorum versus those of Islamist parties, we were not trying to offer a moral judgment on the relative righteousness of those two actors (to be clear: we use “actor” in the loosest possible sense here, since Islamist politicians are by no means a unified actor). Rather, we were comparing exactly what we have just specified: the policies Santorum has advocated or implemented versus those that Islamist parties have advocated or implemented. It is true that institutional constraints play a role in defining said policies, but our goal was illuminating policies that are likely to have an impact on anyone’s life, and not judging Santorum’s “heart of hearts.” Hence, it is a direct apples to apples comparison of what policies are advocated by these two different actors. It would only be an apples to oranges comparison if our goal were moral judgment.

So Finel writes: “It is surely true that Santorum is not worse than various Islamist regimes in the Middle East, in terms of religious freedom, women’s rights, and gay rights, but man that is damning with faint praise isn’t it?” That would indeed be damning with faint praise if our purpose were to praise — but instead it was to correct a flawed analogy, one where Finel (by his own framing of the subject) actually agrees with the substantive points that we made.

Finel makes one interesting point at the end in terms of moral comparison: “But the bigger issue is that comparing ideology to ideology is perhaps more useful than comparing policy outcomes simply because institutions matter.” Again, our purpose was not moral comparison, but I do want to make one point in response: institutions and context help to shape our ideology. The ideology of a 21st century American Christian is likely to be very different than the ideology of a Christian living in 16th century Spain; the ideology of a white 21st century American on racial matters is likely to be very different than the ideology of a white 19th century American. And the ideological and societal context with respect to the relationship between religion and state that Santorum has known all the life is different than that which has shaped politicians in the Brotherhood. So, while it is a bit beside the point I intended to make in my earlier post, I think Santorum would still almost certainly look less extreme in this regard even in a direct ideology-to-ideology comparison that ignores policy outcomes.

Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments

The Strategy of Targeting al Qaeda’s Senior Leadership

by Daveed Gartenstein-Ross Posted on June 8, 2012

Leadership decapitation is one means of combating violent non-state actors. However, the fact that the leader of a terrorist or insurgent organization being fought can be killed doesn’t mean that he should be. One obvious example is when a group’s leader is incompetent. In such a situation, it may make sense to target his deputies, but leave him in place to continue blundering. Other situations may also arise where targeting a group’s leadership does not make sense. Is the case of Abu Yahya al Libi (who is reportedly dead, but whose demise remains unconfirmed) one such situation?

Australian analyst Leah Farrall strongly answered yes in a provocative blog entry that has garnered much attention. Her argument is summarized well in the following passage:

I wonder if those who think this is a victory (and those supporting the strategy of extrajudicial killings more generally) have given ample thought to the fact that he along with others who have been assassinated were actually a moderating force within a far more virulent current that has taken hold in the milieu. And yes, given his teachings I do note a certain irony in this, but sadly, it’s true. What is coming next is a generation whose ideological positions are more virulent and who owing to the removal of older figures with clout, are less likely to be amenable to restraining their actions. And contrary to popular belief, actions have been restrained. Attacks have thus far been used strategically rather than indiscriminately.

Farrall’s entry touched off a days-long debate on Twitter, primarily between her and American analyst Will McCants, over whether al Libi should be seen as a moderating force in al Qaeda in a way that matters. Before I turn to my own thoughts on the debate, let me say that I think it was an excellent model of argument within this sphere. Competitive analysis is important, and it is generally best when conducted in the open, as this has been. Further, the exchange has been respectful and collegial, something that is atypical for today’s debates. That being said, I rather decisively come down in McCants’s corner.

It is important to note what this debate is not about. It is not about the drones program writ large. I have serious reservations about drones as strategy for reasons similar to those articulated by Bill Roggio in a recent Threat Matrix entry. Judging from McCants’s Twitter feed, he also appears to have problems with the U.S.’s over-reliance on drones. Farrall’s argument is more specific than a general critique of the U.S.’s drones policy: she argues that al Libi’s death will make the world more dangerous because he will be lost as a “moderating force within a far more virulent current.”

The first problem I have with Farrall’s argument is that it means we have an enemy whom we cannot fight because eliminating him from the battlefield is too dangerous. If you follow the logic of her argument, it is not only too dangerous to kill al Libi (or someone similarly situated) but even to arrest him. After all, if al Libi were imprisoned, he would still be eliminated from al Qaeda’s ranks and hence unable to serve as a moderating force.

The second problem is that, contrary to Farrall’s argument, a strategic opponent actually seems far more dangerous than an indiscriminate opponent. Note that in her quote above, she poses these as two ends of the spectrum: “Attacks have thus far been used strategically rather than indiscriminately.” I think this is an accurate assessment of two means that al Qaeda could employ in its fight against the U.S. and others. One of McCants’s major objections to Farrall’s argument is that al Libi’s ends weren’t limited. Farrall doesn’t dispute the point that al Libi would continue to threaten the U.S., but argues that we’ll be worse off if al Qaeda slips from its current strategic posture to one that is more indiscriminate (i.e. with less limited means).

Let’s leave aside McCants’s various arguments that al Libi was not actually a moderating force, and assume for the sake of this argument that he did in fact serve as one in the way that Farrall claims. When your opponent is a violent non-state actor, and thus an opponent of necessarily limited resources, its ability to act strategically is precisely what makes it dangerous. One overarching argument I made in Bin Laden’s Legacy is that one of the reasons our approach to combating al Qaeda has often been lacking is the assumption that the jihadi group is not a strategic actor. A strategic actor is able to spread its brand into new theaters. A strategic actor is able to garner public sympathy. A strategic actor is able to coordinate its actions in a way that will drive up its opponent’s expenses.

An indiscriminate actor will be less effective than a strategic one in the medium to long term, though it may cause horrifying damage in the short term. Al Qaeda in Iraq (AQI) is one example of an actor who allowed its own excesses and bloodthirstiness to get the better of it. Though it was seen as the “dominant organization of influence” in the Anbar province in August 2006, AQI overplayed its hand. The well known–and hugely successful–Anbar Awakening was a response to an actor that employed largely indiscriminate violence. Beyond the context of Iraq, one of al Qaeda’s biggest weaknesses, which has lost it a good deal of popular support, has been the large amount of Muslim blood that it shed. Indeed, we know from the Abbottabad documents that Osama bin Laden recognized this weakness. He wanted to address it in part because doing so would make his organization more efficient at killing Americans.

One can, and should, have numerous questions about our current counterterrorism strategies. And as I stated at the outset, in some cases it will be more strategic to leave a violent non-state actor’s leadership in place when fighting it. But al Libi does not appear to be that case; and al Qaeda appears to be more rather than less dangerous when it operates strategically rather than indiscriminately.

Posted in Al Qaeda | 12 Comments

On American Military Intervention in Syria

by Daveed Gartenstein-Ross Posted on May 31, 2012

Dan Trombly, who is always worth reading, had an interesting post Wednesday at Slouching Towards Columbia on U.S. intervention in Syria. Those who have read Trombly will not be surprised by his position on intervention–he’s against it–and, as I noted on Twitter, I expect that many readers won’t agree with all of his points. Such is the price of consistently writing long and broad posts: it gives readers far more to disagree with. Trombly’s post triggered some thoughts of my own on a possible U.S. military intervention in Syria, which I outline here.

First, Trombly is certainly correct that the massacre in Houla and other regime atrocities that have been unearthed do not change American strategic interests with respect to Syria. Horrible as they are, they don’t tell us anything new about the nature of this odious regime. If it was a bad idea to intervene prior to the latest revelations–and in this case, the mode of intervention that Trombly criticizes is Danielle Pletka’s prescription of arming the rebels, giving them air cover, and supporting safe corridors–then it remains a bad idea even despite the recent grotesque news. We should not base our foreign policy around heated reactions to tragedy: doing so is a recipe for error.

Second, I think it’s worth visiting reasons that it seems anti-interventionists often end up losing foreign policy debates–and on Syria, I put myself in the anti-interventionist camp. One reason is that anti-interventionists often fail to put forward competitive options, instead stopping with the case against military action. I agree with that case (at least in its conclusion, though I may differ on some of the details), but analysis should not end there. After all, the Syrian regime is perpetrating atrocity after atrocity on its own citizens, and we all have a natural human impulse, an admirable one, to want to stop massacres if we can. So can those who don’t favor military intervention propose, maybe even come to some rough agreement on, median solutions that can deal with humanitarian concerns without resorting to an air war? When the choice presented in these debates seems to be between military intervention and doing nothing, the choice of doing nothing often loses. While I don’t disagree with Trombly’s assertion that “the average American voter” probably “likes killing terrorists but is sick of war,” the relevant audience here is really foreign policy elites within the administration. They are the ones who must be persuaded not to go to war. Given that Mitt Romney is trying to out-hawk Obama on Syria, a new war in that theater may not be politically costly for Obama.

Another thing that anti-interventionists could do a better job of is specifying what the world looks like without the U.S. militarily involved. I am by no means trying to pick on Trombly–my friend, co-author, and someone whom I deeply admire–on this point. But his post is illustrative of something I see as problematic in the anti-interventionist discourse. He writes, for example: “The only way the Assad regime is going to fall in Syria, short of an Iraq-style invasion, is by prolonging the war and defeating the Assad regime through attrition. In other words, the interventionists’ preferred solution of creating ‘safe corridors,’ arming rebel groups, and conducting airstrikes will only drag out the war without assuring victory.” What does drag out the war mean in this context? Is it because Assad is poised to crush the rebels in the status quo? If so, Trombly–or whomever is making a similar case–should come right out and say that. I think realistic assessments of what a world without military intervention would look like would significantly benefit the debate. Perhaps this world is very ugly; that doesn’t mean the case against intervention fails. As I wrote in Bin Laden’s Legacy:

The sad reality of the twenty-first century is that we cannot respond with full vigor to every perceived threat, or we won’t have the resources left over to address those that are most pressing. The sad reality is that lives will be lost in other parts of the world, like Libya, and we won’t be able to do anything about it. This should give us no comfort, but we must be realistic. When we are facing a crushing national debt, the interest payments for which are projected to eclipse our current defense budget by 2019, we cannot afford to overreact to every terrorist threat and to intervene in every conflict.

A third and final point is that Syria illustrates why I disagree with Jason Fritz’s rather thought-provoking argument that a coherent U.S. grand strategy is in effect useless. Rather than being driven by my perception of a “grand enemy,” my own sense of grand strategy is driven by what I see as the overarching–and, in many ways, interrelated–challenges that we confront as a nation, challenges that I outlined at some length on G&L. The national debt and violent non-state actors are among the primary concerns I listed. It seems to me, based on this view of the world, that a military intervention in Syria is not cost justified–particularly because, as Trombly points out, it’s possible that jihadi elements among the rebels may be strengthened rather than marginalized by U.S. involvement. It is hard to justify a new military campaign when our strategic resources would be better devoted to areas where we have very concrete strategic interests–places like Somalia, Yemen, North Africa, Mali, Afghanistan–and we’d also likely be better off if these resources were simply conserved.

My specific thinking on Syria is, of course, a bit more complex than this. But my point is that a sense of grand strategy shaped around the challenges the U.S. confronts can be useful in approaching foreign policy problems–and, in my view, can accomplish precisely what Fritz is concerned with, avoiding foreign policy mistakes.

Posted in Syria | Tagged Dan Trombly, Danielle Pletka, Jason Fritz, Mitt Romney, Syria | 9 Comments

Author Archives: Daveed Gartenstein-Ross

Terry Jones and U.S. Foreign Policy

LIFG and Al Qaeda: A Response to Zelin

The Libyan Islamic Fighting Group, Al Qaeda, and Epistemology

The Public Sphere is Failing Because We Are Failing

Reflections on Byman’s “Breaking the Bonds”

Powering Guantánamo

Terrorism, Economics, and the London Olympics

Islamists and Rick Santorum: A Response to Bernard Finel

The Strategy of Targeting al Qaeda’s Senior Leadership

On American Military Intervention in Syria

Subscription Options:

About G&L

Editors

Contributors

Recent Posts

Recent Comments

Categories

Archives

Blogroll

Author Archives: Daveed Gartenstein-Ross

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Subscription Options:

About G&L

Editors

Contributors

Recent Posts

Recent Comments

Categories

Archives

Blogroll