Fisk fisks himself (courtesy Tim Blair).
Terrorists and the nations that harbor them
Jihadi terrorists are not strictly bound to the confines of a state, and their calling cards are sometimes hard to read. That’s one of their strengths; it makes it very difficult to strike back at them with weapons of conventional warfare.
But that doesn’t mean they operate on their own without any state support (Austin Bay has written this must-read piece on how the terrorists exploit the system of states and failed states to their advantage).
Afghanistan was a relatively easy case, at least conceptually, because the state sponsoring of Al Qaeda in that country was clear and overt. The other heavy lifters in the promotion of terrorism around the globe are Iran and Syria, while Saudi Arabia has a leading role as well through Wahabism, which acts as a sort of carrier of terrorism.
Remember Bush’s post-9/11 address to Congress and the nation on September 20, 2001? In that speech, he formulated some of the basic principles of dealing with state sponsors of terrorism, an early version of the Bush Doctrine:
The Taliban must act immediately. They will hand over terrorists, or they will share in their fate….Our enemy is a radical network of terrorists and every government that supports them…From this day forward, any nation that continues to harbor or support terrorism will be regarded by the United States as a hostile regime.
Although the present war in Lebanon is not being waged by the US, it’s certainly an example of the application of this doctrine. The government of Lebanon has winked at terrorism, failed to root it out, given it safe haven–and even made a home for it in its Parliament, one-fifth of whom are Hezbollah members.
Why is this? Lebanon is a country that used to be one of the most stable in the region. But that all ended, starting with the arrival of the PLO in the late sixties and early seventies, after that group’s violent expulsion from Jordan, where it was trying to topple the government. Lebanon was thereafter ravaged by civil war for several decades. During that time, Israel invaded at intervals to try to root out the terrorists that had taken hold, and Syria took control and rendered Lebanon its puppet state (the latter situation has only recently improved with the expulsion of the Syrians–although not the Syrian influence–in 2005).
It’s interesting to contrast the response of Jordan’s King Hussein to the terrorists who were in his midst and threatening his regime. “Black September“, the name given to the day Hussein cracked down and expelled the PLO from Jordan, was an example of bitter Arab-on-Arab violence. It’s estimated that, in the ten days of that action, between three and five thousand Palestinians in Jordan were killed, both PLO militants and civilians alike. This indiscriminate crackdown never elicited the sort of condemnation that would have occurred had it been performed by Western powers. What’s more, it was effective; the PLO were routed from Jordan and relative stability returned.
After Black September, Jordan’s loss was Lebanon’s gain–or rather, we might say that Jordan’s gain was Lebanon’s loss. The PLO–and Yasser Arafat–relocated to Lebanon, and the country was never the same again.
The lesson is a harsh one. Harboring terrorists does not pay, and not just because of the Bush doctrine or the reaction of the Israelis. Terrorists take advantage of the conditions inherent in failed states, it’s true. But the arrival of terrorists en masse can help to cause a state to fail. That didn’t happen in Jordan because Jordan adopted harsh and somewhat ruthless measures against those terrorists. It happened in Lebanon because Lebanon either wouldn’t or couldn’t do the same effectively.
Now, over three decades later, Lebanon is still reaping the bitter harvest of harboring terrorists, this time Hezbollah. Whether it lacks the will or the ability to root them out, or whether it’s a combination of the two, I don’t know. But the truth is that terrorism is a blight on both the terrorist’s targets and on those who give the terrorists refuge.
The Israelis are attempting in Lebanon to effect a somewhat kinder, gentler Black September (in this case, a Black July), and expel Hezbollah from Lebanon. Will they succeed? They haven’t before; despite previous Israeli incursions into Lebanon for that purpose, Hezbollah has remained there. And, of course, driving Hezbollah from Lebanon would not mean the end of Hezbollah in the world.
But perhaps now the world climate has changed (including that of the Arab world), and it’s understood how necessary this action is. Criticism of Israel in this conflict has been curiously muted, considering that it’s Israel. Maybe the world has finally learned the lesson that terrorism is a blight on us all.
It shouldn’t have had to take this long to understand that.
Thoughts on a wedding
This weekend I went to the wedding of the daughter of a good friend. It’s the first wedding I’ve attended of a contemporary of my own son, although probably not the last. The bride is someone I’ve known since she was two months old.
It’s a cliché at a wedding to ask where all that time went—in fact, there’s even a tearjerker of a popular song to that effect, “Sunrise, Sunset” (“Is this the little girl I carried…”). And I followed that cliche; for me, the wedding was pretty emotional. I teared up, although I managed not to cry.
It was a beautiful day—(although very hot!)—in a beautiful setting. Take a look—this is where the ceremony was actually held:
But the main source of emotion for me was that the bride and groom seemed so deeply in love. Knowing the bride’s family very well, and knowing at least the history of the groom’s, I’m aware that both have come from families where the parents had exceptionally bitter divorces that impacted heavily on both bride and groom, adding a burden of suffering that clouded their childhoods.
And yet, here they were, starry-eyed over each other. Is this merely the triumph of hope over experience, the naivete and beauty of youth, an example of denial? I don’t think so. I like to think—in fact I sense, and I certainly fervently hope—that these two young people
have learned through their travails what to value, hard lessons that will help them through the inevitable conflicts in their own marriage.
An extra poignancy was added by the fact that all the previously-warring parents attended the ceremony, and all seemed more or less civil to each other. That, in and of itself, probably could not have happened without the passage of a great deal of time since the divorces, as well as strong motivation to make the day pleasant for their children.
Looking at the bride’s parents—a couple I first knew about twenty-five years ago, right before their very necessary divorce, but have not seen together since—I couldn’t help but remember their former selves, hardly older than their own child is today. Now they’re the mother and father of the bride, united for this day by that commonality. Their marriage was a disaster, but their child most definitely is not.
The rockets of Hezbollah: all the world’s a stage, and all the civilians merely props
In line with the theme of some of my other posts today, we have this, about Hezbollah’s tactics in the current conflict in Lebanon:
Hizbollah hid many of the rockets in private homes, and had teams that launched the rockets from next to these homes, forcing the Israelis to “attack civilians” if the launching effort was spotted and attacked with bombs or artillery.
This is a textbook and commonplace case of terrorist strategy.
It starts with utter contempt for the lives of civilians. It’s no surprise, of course, that Hezbollah has contempt for the lives of Israeli civilians, and wishes their destruction. Katushas are not guided and “smart,” they are the dumbest of dumb bombs, aimed only at a general vicinity–in this case, Israeli cities and the citizens therein.
But the contempt Hezbollah has for the lives of its own people is just as great, if not greater, because of the placement of the rocket launchers themselves. And yes, I know, it’s not technically “its own people” Hezbollah is sacrificing here, because Hezbollah is Iranian in origin rather than Lebanese.
It’s as though there’s been a bank robbery, and the Lebanese people are being held hostage by Hezbollah, which hides behind them for protection. And, from its hiding place, Iran–hiding behind both the Lebanese people and the terrorist entity Hezbollah–commences a war both hot (the bombs themselves) and, more importantly, cold–the war for public opinion.
By hiding behind Lebanese civilians it’s not even primarily protection Hezbollah craves, it’s theater–as in Shakespeare’s “all the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players on it.”. Hezbollah is well aware that if, by taking out the missile launchers, Israel kills Lebanese civilians–which is every bit as much Hezbollah’s goal as the initial killing of Israeli civilians by the rockets themselves–then, as sure as day follows night, this fact will be reported heavily by the Western media (mostly without the all-important background context), flashed around the globe, and widely condemned. Civilians are not only expendable on the part of the terrorists, they are important and vital tools–stage props. And it’s ironic that civilians are used by terrorists in this way to try to make the point that it’s the others–the US and Israel–who are purposely targeting civilians.
The propaganda value is immense, and may be the most important part of the exercise in rocketry, as far as Hezbollah is concerned: free publicity against Israel, courtesy of the West itself.
This sort of theater has been going on for a long time, and not just in the Middle East–for example, it was part and parcel of the tactics of the Vietcong, in a strategy known as “clutching the people to their breast.”
To paraphrase Winston Churchill: “some mother, some breast.”
[Big Pharaoh makes a related point.]
Iran, Iran, and Iran–and the West
It’s becoming more and more clear that Iran is the prime mover right now in the Middle East. As columnist Mark Steyn points out:
…these territories [Gaza and Lebanon] are now in effect Iran’s land borders with the Zionist Entity. They’re “occupied territories” but it’s not the Jews doing the occupying. So you’ve got a choice between talking with proxies or going to the source: Tehran. And, as the unending talks with the EU have demonstrated, the ayatollahs use negotiations with the civilized world as comedy relief…
Once upon a time, it would have been Egypt and Jordan threatening the Zionist usurpers. But these countries have been, militarily, a big flop against the Zionist Entity since King Hussein fired Sir John Glubb as head of the Arab Legion. So after ’73 they put their money on terrorism, and schoolgirl suicide bombers — the kind of “popular resistance” that buys you better publicity in the salons of the West. And one result of that has been to deliver Palestinian pseudo-“nationalism” away from Arab influence and into hard-core Iranian Islamist hands.
Omar at Iraq the Model connects the Iranian dots between what’s been going on in Iraq and the current crisis in Lebanon, as well as the ways in which the international community has been “played”–and will continue to be played–by Iran:
The key point in this strategy is to keep the half-solution alive. This method proved successful in keeping the despotic regimes in power for decades and these regimes think this strategy is still valid. What makes them this way is their interpretation of international comments which came almost exactly as they always do; calls for restraint and urging a cease-fire which they (Iran and her allies) think will mean eventually going back to negotiations which they know very well how to keep moving in an empty circle.
The common denominater here is not just Iran. It’s Iran and the cooperation of the “useful idiots” of the West–some of them well-meaning–who mysteriously fail to recognize the nature and goals of the Iranian regime.
Beware the open mic
I’m not so sure about Bush’s use of the word “irony,” but the rest of it seems spot on to me.
The danger of “proportionality” in war
Now, how could proportionality in war be dangerous?
First, before I attempt an answer to that question, here’s a great post by Betsy Newmark (via the Anchoress) on the widespread European international community’s condemnation of Israel’s response to the attacks from Hezbollah as “disproportionate.”
She writes:
I wish that the next time some leader comes out and starts talking about Israel’s “disproportionate response” that the journalists would ask them what their definition of a proportionate response would be if some terrorists were sending rockets into their own cities. Perhaps their own citizens might be interested in knowning how these intrepid leaders would respond if they were being attacked.
I’m not so sure many of their own citizens would even ask the question, since many may believe that their own relative chumminess with Iran and the Palestinians would guarantee them immunity. And perhaps their own knowledge that their country’s leaders might not respond in an especially muscular manner to any attack on their own soil is what leads to the tactic of appeasement in the first place.
Sort of like paying hush money to the Mafia, in hopes that it won’t target your business. I’d call it a vicious cycle of nonviolence.
But, leaving Europe aside for a moment, what is this larger idea of proportionality in war, anyway? Oh, don’t misunderstand me (although of course some of you will). I’m not one of those people who advocates a truly disproportionate response, such as Israel nuking Tehran.
But I do wonder what’s happened to the notion and definition and expectation of war. What am I talking about? It comes down–as so many things in life seem to–to the idea of responsibility, and of consequences (see here).
In the old days, the idea of fear of a nasty response from a well-armed power often acted as a deterrent (remember that word?) to attacking that country. In fact, that was one of the reasons countries had armies and weapons–not necessarily to use them, but to keep from having to use them very often; to keep themselves from being overrun and attacked, to defend its citizens. And the best way to defend them would be to not even have to defend them, but to just use the threat of a response in defense. And to be threatening, it helped if that threat was somewhat unpredictable in its force and scope.
In the olden days (which weren’t so very long ago) responses were seldom (if ever?) discussed in terms of proportionality. Perhaps the beginning of the “proportionality” argument came with the invention of nuclear weaponry. For the first time, we had the ability to mount a truly disproportionate response to provocation, one that would threaten the entire world. So it became common sense to understand that not every attack would be met with the full panoply of weapons in the arsenal. And history has played out that way: the first time atomic weapons were used, Hiroshima/Nagasaki, was the last. So far, of course.
I’m not a student of military history, but it’s not my impression that every attack was met with an all-out response even prior to nuclear weapons. But the limiting factor then was not the mouthing of platitudinous, self-serving advice from other nations; but, rather, the practical and strategic decisions of the attacked nation itself. Each nation would do what it determined necessary to end the threat–no more and no less. Sometimes it would miscalculate, of course. But the idea was that a sovereign nation had a right to defend itself to the best of its ability and its own judgment, and everyone knew that.
And that knowledge probably served to prevent many asymmetrical attacks. “The Mouse That Roared” notwithstanding, weak countries didn’t tend to attack the strong; it would be suicidal. But asymmetrical warfare is now not only chic, but it’s actively encouraged by this idea of “proportionality,” which ties the gigantic Gullivers of the world (such as that mean old, bad old US and its vile mini-me, Israel) down with many tiny ropes.
It’s in the interests of those with less power, and fewer arms, to advance the doctrine of “proportionality.” This evens the playing field, something like a handicap in golf, and makes the game better sport for those with fewer skills. The concept of proportionality comes, no doubt, at least partly from fear of a truly disproportionate response; from some sort of concern for the weak. But it also comes from a disproportionate concern that weaker, third-world countries shouldn’t be disadvantaged in any way because of their weakness, that they should be allowed to attack a stronger nation with relative impunity because, after all, they’re weaker; and, after all, they’re “brown;” and, after all, the West is imperialist and guilty; and, after all…and on and on.
But war is not a game of golf. And leveling the playing field doesn’t make for more fun. It makes for the emboldenment of tyrants in the third world. It makes for lengthy, drawn-out conflicts that never seem to end or be resolved. It buys time for countries such as Iran to gain power and become contenders by acquiring the most disproportionate weaponry of all, the nuclear variety.
And, when Iran reaches that goal, I wonder whether it will listen to Europe’s bleats about “proportionality.” Somehow, I don’t think so. After all, Iran has no western guilt to expiate.
[ADDENDUM: By the way, I’m aware that the concept of “proportionality” is traditionally part of Just War theory. Note (if you’ll follow the link) the introduction, defining when Just War theory might or might not be applicable. Also, the definition of “proportionality” in any given circumstance depends, of course, on the eye–and politics–of the beholder.]
Zeno diplomacy
No, that’s not a typo above. I didn’t mean “Zero diplomacy,” I meant “Zeno diplomacy.”
What’s Zeno diplomacy? It’s described in this article by Robert Tracinski, a writer with whom I wasn’t previously familiar but who appears to be an Ayn Rand proponent (see this).
The term apparently originated with Robert Kagan, who mentions it in his recent article appearing in the Washington Post. It’s a reference to Zeno’s paradox; remember, the one that was illustrated in your textbooks by the little drawings of the turtle and Achilles, advancing the seemingly logical but obviously incorrect argument that says the turtle will win the race against the warrior?
Here’s another way to state the argument:
Suppose I wish to cross the room. First, of course, I must cover half the distance. Then, I must cover half the remaining distance. Then, I must cover half the remaining distance. Then I must cover half the remaining distance . . . and so on forever. The consequence is that I can never get to the other side of the room.
We don’t need to worry right now about the flaw in Zeno’s argument (although if you follow the link you’ll find a good explanation); what we’re dealing with today is a flaw in the argument of those who argue for diplomacy, and then some diplomacy, and then some more diplomacy, when dealing with those whose aim is not to come to a peaceful resolution, but to stall for time. Because stalling for time gives the enemy the means to choose to start a conflict at a time more favorable to him, rather than to us. And it’s Tracinski’s assertion that stalling for time with Iran (otherwise known as “diplomacy”) has only given Iran the ability to strike in a way and time of its own choosing, as we see now in the current Mideast crisis.
Those who promote nearly endless diplomacy as a solution to situations in which conflict threatens to erupt often don’t seem to see that diplomacy has its downside. After all, what could be bad about postponing a war by talking? Isn’t that always good?
It would be good, I suppose, if the negotiations led to an actual resolution or defusing of the situation, if the passage of time led to the situation somehow becoming better and not worse. And, of course, without a functioning crystal ball, none of us can foretell the future; we can only do our best to predict it based on the best evidence we have in the present. That process, of course, is deeply flawed, but it’s all we have.
One of my favorite quotations of all time is that of the New England abolitionist William Lloyd Garrison, who famously said:
With reasonable men, I will reason; with humane men I will plead; but to tyrants I will give no quarter, nor waste arguments where they will certainly be lost.
When I first heard the quote I misunderstood it for a moment, thinking Garrison was saying that tyrants always win arguments. No, what he meant by the phrase “they will certainly be lost” is “they will certainly be wasted.”
So the key to winning arguments–or to get people to do what you want them to–is to tailor the approach to the problem and to the character of the person or people with whom one is dealing. Tyrants are tyrannical, and neither reason nor pleading will suffice to convince them.
The problem, of course, is in deciding who is that sort of a tyrant, and who is not. It’s a bit like end of the first sentence of Niebuhr’s well-known serenity prayer:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.
The wisdom to know the difference–yes, indeed! To distinguish when diplomacy has a chance of working from the times when it doesn’t is not an easy task, but certainly not an impossible one. And I think it’s safe to say that in North Korea and in Iran we are dealing with the sort of tyrants on whom words will certainly be lost.
That’s not to say that some tyrants can’t be appealed to by coercion or even persuasion that focuses on their own self-interest. That may be true of Iran. But be careful. Look what happened in North Korea, during the Clinton administration. Giving negotiated concessions to a tyrant for humanitarian reasons, ones that seem to be good for the people of the country at the time, can ultimately backfire and end up with the tyrant having bought time to become more aggressive.
It’s an interesting balancing act. Tyrants desire power above all, and to get that power they need a country. However, that need for power may be the only reason they care about the welfare of their people at all–if the people disappear, the country disappears, and where would that leave the tyrant? But tyrants ordinarily consider large numbers of their people expendable, as long as enough people remain to maintain the tyrant’s country and his power. So the welfare of their people as a whole is not necessarily so much of a bargaining chip.
And be careful even of the logical assumption that tyrants care about the existence of their country at all. Some tyrants are more or less mad–or they become so over time–and when their fortunes are on the wane they want to bring the entire country down with them, in a sort of murder-suicide impulse (Hitler, for example, wanted Germany and the Germans to perish with him when he finally realized that all was lost).
And that brings us to the Iranian mullahs. They’ve put a somewhat new twist on things, because they are the first tyrannical heads of a country (in modern times, at least) who appear far less concerned with the things of this world than with their vision of the world to come. Therefore all bets are off; their priorities may indeed be focused on the afterlife rather than on protecting their people in this one. This is what makes them especially bad candidates for negotiation, and especially good ones for the problems inherent in Zeno diplomacy.
[By the way, Pajamas Media has some very thorough roundups of breaking news and reactions in the current crisis.]
[ADDENDUM: In another case of psychoblogger unity, Dr. Sanity spotlights the same Tracinski article, although she discusses other aspects of it.]
Tehran unmasked?
I’m not going to pretend to be an expert on the balance of power in the Middle East. But I do read, and I can think.
And what I read lately has convinced me that, in the current Middle East crisis–which has so far stopped short of full war but might lead to one–all roads lead to Iran, even those that seem to begin in Iraq, Lebanon, Syria, and Palestine.
See what Omar at Iraq the Model has to say on the matter. Not only is he convinced that Iran is a main mover and shaker behind instability in Iraq (and who isn’t convinced of this? I think it’s one of the few points on which the right and left tend to agree), but he wonders whether the recent abduction of the Israeli soldiers was planned by Iran as a tactic to distract attention from Iranian nuclear ambitions and the fallout (pun intended) from that.
Omar also writes:
Those extremists do not understand the language of compromise and they do not believe in negotiating even if they declare the opposite. They want a war and I think they’re going to get one.
And Michael Ledeen–not surprisingly, since his béªte noire has long been the Iranian government–agrees:
The important thing to keep in mind is that both the Gaza and northern Israel attacks were planned for quite a while, which means that Iran wanted this war, this way. It isn’t just a target of opportunity or a sudden impulse; it’s part of a strategic decision to expand the war.
For quite some time Ledeen’s conclusion has been that there is no way to escape a showdown with Iran, and he predicts in this article that, the longer the delay, the more likely it becomes that the confrontation will be a military one–with, as he puts it, “terrible consequences.”
Ledeen’s solution? To bring down the regimes in Iran and Syria; he sees that as the task of the United States. But missing in his article is the answer to the question, “how is that to be accomplished, without a military confrontation and its ‘terrible consequences?'”
Austin Bay sees some possible ways the Iranian mullahs could end up weakened and discredited as a result of recent events (though not without some military escalation), if the following scenario plays out:
The relative lack of western criticism of Israel is an indicator. Apparently Israel has an opportunity to hammer Iranian and Syrian proxies. Israel may also escalate by striking Syrian intelligence targets throughout the region”“sending the message that supporting proxies can cost the supporter. Israeli escalation past a certain point escalation puts Tehran in a bind: if Tehran’s mullahs fail to react militarily they begin to look impotent. Promises of future bombs won’t suffice….
In the context of an on-going war with Iranian proxies in Lebanon, if Tehran’s mullahs threaten mass annihilation one too many times the Israelis could strike several Iranian nuclear facilities. This would not be a “pre-emptive strike” but a “deep strike” on Hezbollah’s deep pockets ally and supplier.
The diplomatic component of this scenario: the Israelis make the case that in the post-Saddam, post-Beirut Spring Middle East, proxy wars are no longer tolerated. The Iranians will not be able to respond to Israeli strikes in kind. They will be exposed as weak hotheads and they will have lost at least part of their nuclear investment.
As Bay points out, it’s a risky game. Tigerhawk offers his views on just what that game might be about (read the comments section as well). His main thesis is that Iran wants to be seen as the hand behind this, wants to be seen as the locus of anti-Israel anti-Zionist power, and is gambling that Israel and the US are too weak to oppose its moves. Tigerhawk believes that Iran may have underestimated how much it has alienated Europe recently, and has miscalculated.
I’m not pleased with today’s violence, and the possibility of worse to come. But a while back I came to the sorrowful conclusion that something of the sort may just be inevitable. Those of you who know my history can guess that I used to believe that negotiation alone could work to defuse the Israel/Palestine situation. But I see today’s events as part of a long chain of failed negotiations and dashed hope; one that began with Oslo, led through the 90s to the collapse of Camp David, and then to the horrors of the Second Intifada, and ultimately to where we stand today.
Those (such as myself) who used to believe in the power of negotiations and “giving peace a chance” in the region remind me a bit of my relatives who were Soviet sympathizers back in the early days of the 20s and 30s, before all the wretched excesses of Soviet power became known, back when Communism could still be thought of as an experiment that might somehow work out, and capitalism (especially during the Depression) as the failure. It was relatively easy to believe in the promise of Communism then; much harder to believe it now, at a time when only diehards keep the faith.
And the same is true for negotiations in the Middle East. With the launching of the Second Intifada, the mask of diplomacy was torn off, and the face of the conflict–in particular, the depth of the violence and hatred on the Palestinian side, and the futility of negotiations–was made clear.
With the election of Ahmadinejad in Iran, the same is true of Iran. No more masks; we know where we stand–although there are always going to be those who don’t believe that Ahmadinejad believes what he so clearly says.
I still profoundly hope there’s a way out of this without total war, if the regimes in Damascus and Tehran can be weakened by one of the more limited scenarios already discussed, or by some other sequence of events short of a major conflagration. But there’s no way out if it without force. And there’s no way out of it if we don’t see clearly that Iran and Syria are not seeking peace through negotiation, and if we don’t recognize their aims in the region.
And now I read (via Israellycool) that a Hezbollah missile fired at Haifa on Thursday evening was of Iranian manufacture. Israellycool asks the question, “Are we [Israel] going to go after Iran?”
I wonder what the answer to Israelly’s question will be, how much time will elapse before we find out, and what form such a “going after” might ultimately take.
Neo-neocon at war
It’s confession time.
My name is neo-neocon, and I’m a warmonger. Not only have I declared war, but I’m deriving some pleasure from killing.
But don’t get me wrong. It’s not total war; I’m saving the big guns for when I might really need them. After all, in all-out, total war, everybody loses.
This is a war with that transcends issues of race (although some might argue it has aspects of class); this battle has inter-species connotations. The enemy: the Japanese beetle.
I know it’s really summer when they arrive. Their numbers are legion; the proverbial hordes. I know that spraying (otherwise known as total war) would be most effective, but I’m liberal enough and ecology-minded enough to not want to foul my own nest with pesticides unless absolutely necessary.
So, over the years, I’ve tried other methods.
Those pheromone-based lures are attractive–and not just to the beetles, but to me. Using their own sexual drives to entice them into traps seems a bit diabolical, but has the advantage of being harmless to the environment. And the technique works, in a way–as soon as I would set out a bag, I’d invariably catch about a pound of the critters (and believe me, a pound is a lot of beetle for the money).
But the lures seemed to attract as many as they killed. The beetles just kept coming and coming (and I know, I know; those who criticize the entire neocon endeavor would say that the same thing is happening in Iraq).
In the last couple of years I’ve fastened on my present approach.
I fill a jar with alcohol,
and stealthily approach the favored, already slightly decimated, feeding grounds:
or the alternative, but still somewhat popular, rest and recreation area:
The beetles are lazily, happily feeding (or procreating?), blissfully unaware of the fate that awaits them. They are slow in the midday sun, heavy and lethargic, and all it takes is a little bit of pressure on the plant with my free hand as the other holds the jar into which the happy beetles plop.
Death, I’m glad to say, is instantaneous. I’ve experimented with different concentrations of alcohol/water, and I’ve found that only the pure stuff keeps them from writhing and squirming for many long seconds. I have no wish to make them suffer; I just want them gone.
Wish me well. Wish them ill.
Bombs away: why India?
By now you’ve probably read about the train bombings in India (and here’s an excellent roundup on the subject from Pajamas Media, by the way).
Over a hundred people dead and counting, and this is just one incident in a long line of recent similar ones in India–as well as a more ancient history, including a bloody eighth-century conquest and an exceptionally violent partition.
Why India? Well, why not? There’s the long history already mentioned, and the still-unresolved question of Kashmir. But perhaps there are other reasons.
Mitch at Shot in the Dark speculates:
Indian Moslems live in a relatively (and relatively new) liberal democracy; they have the rule of law, democratic elections, a constitution descended from that of the UK, and perhaps most importantly of all, economic freedom and the prospects that an open economic playing field bring to people….India’s moslems, in short, have a stake in the modern world.
And I’d bet that there’s at least a small stake on Al Quaeda’s part in stirring that up, if only by provoking a reaction against India’s moslems, something that’ll devalue that interest in the liberalism (small-l) that has helped quell so many of India’s problems.
Stirring up Hindu-Moslem violence in India could certainly be a motive. But, was this attack perpetrated by global jihadists such as Al Qaeda, as Mitch seems to think, or more local Kashmiri separatists? And, as Allahpundit wonders at Hot Air, “is there a distinction any more?”
I submit that there’s a distinction. And yet there’s a link, and the link is a vital one.
Before 9/11, I saw the terrorist violence around the world as piecemeal. Each event was disconnected from the others. Even though I knew a disproportionate number were indeed perpetrated by Arabs or other Moslems, that fact seemed to be somewhat irrelevant. The causes were the usual ancient hatreds, border disputes, impoverishment, and unknown factors as well.
The events of 9/11 didn’t function for me as some sort of instant illumination, but rather (as I’ve written here) as a catalyst for much reading and research on my part. And that reading indicated the existence of a coherent philosophy underpinning what previously seemed to have been disparate and unconnected events. That belief system has come to be known to me as Islamist totalitarianism.
Yes indeed, there have been other violent–and even terrorist–separatist movements. The IRA comes to mind, of course, and is often cited as an example that this sort of thing is hardly exclusive to Islam. But I’m not asserting it’s exclusive to Islam; rather, that it’s become rampant in a certain subset of Islamic thought. And, unlike localized groups such as the IRA, this movement has been widely promoted around the Islamic world, which means around most of the world itself This phenomenon has caused the vast majority of recent terrorism, violence that has escalated mightily within the past decade, increasing in both scope and magnitude.
The usual disclaimer–that most Moslems aren’t jihadis–is certainly true. But it doesn’t take “most;” it just takes “many.” And “many” there are. (‘Tis enough, ’twill serve.)
9/11 was a watershed for many reasons, but there were two overriding ones: its scope, and its location in the heart of the West in an America that hadn’t previously known a large terrorist attack on civilians on its own soil. From our initial reaction to that event, the jihadis may have learned not to awaken the sleeping giant any more; let him start snoozing again. (Maybe not, of course; a new attack here is always possible.)
But India and other third-world countries, as well as Arab countries such as Egypt, are good targets of opportunity. Easy to move around in and plan, and less fear of massive retaliation. Maybe they did it there mostly because they could.
“Tough love” in the Arab world
Richard Fernandez of Belmont Club applies his thoughtful and complex mind to the question of the pace of attitude change in the Arab world.
Fernandez offers evidence that one of the side-effects of the Iraqi war–and have no doubt of this, it was an intended effect–is that many of the Iraqi people are starting to think in fresh ways, rather than to march in lockstep with the propaganda rife in their part of the world.
He bases some of his assertions on a fascinating post at Iraq the Model, which points out how Iraqi opinions on Hamas and the Palestine/Israel question differ from those of their neighbors:
The reactions I gathered were posted on an Arabic forum on the BBC Arabic website. About three dozens of comments were made by Iraqis both inside Iraq and in exile and all these comments were supportive of Israel or at least against Hamas as far as the topic is concerned except for only three comments; that’s a 10:1 ratio while as you probably have guesses, the opposite ratio is true about the comments by the rest of Arabs.
Fernandez believes that the experience of taking responsibility for one’s own political life has had the ripple effect for Iraqis of enhancing their ability to make objective judgments. I would caution that, in the particular instance of Iraqi attitudes towards Palestine and Israel, one other factor is operating: during the Saddam years Palestinians were encouraged to come to Iraq and were resented for having been given special privileges by the hated regime
But I still believe Fernandez is onto something. It’s true in family life, as well: taking responsibility for oneself, bearing the consequences of one’s decisions, is a good way to enhance learning and encourage more thoughtful future decision-making. Every parent knows that, although it can be very hard to let a child start doing this. But eventually, it’s necessary.
Ah, but what if the decisions made are wrong, wrong, wrong? When to step in? What if a child is doing drugs, for example, or prostituting him/herself? How to prevent tragedy? Can one prevent tragedy? These decisions are hard enough in the relatively simple case of the family.
But countries are not children. And tough love has even larger consequences in the international arena than it does in the more personal environment of the family. In Palestine–a country that’s never really been a country, and that for years has been treated as a sort of child by the international community–the Hamas victory is a case that might be likened to a dose of “tough love” after decades of a combination of enabling (Palestinians being on the perennial UN dole) and tyranny (the Arafat regime as harsh parent). In the last election, the Palestinian people were encouraged to take charge of their own destiny. The results, unfortunately, seem to have enhanced their tendencies for destruction, both of themselves and of others.
I wrote earlier that there was some evidence that, in that Hamas election, many Palestinian voters didn’t take their responsibility as seriously as they might have, and voted for Hamas as a sort of protest and a game, not ever thinking the group could actually win. When all the possibilities in an election seem deeply flawed (and what election isn’t like that, if you think about it?), that’s a danger, and not just in Palestine. But in Palestine the flawed options were, unfortunately, far more deeply flawed than in most other countries, due to its especially sad history and deep marination in hatred, dependence, and tyranny.
The alternative to democracy in the Arab world so far has been dictatorship, tyrannical or at times relatively benign. Every dictatorship is a sort of infantalizing of its people, whether the parent be cruel or kind.
The Iraq war set up an experiment in something very different. Like all experiments, the outcome is as yet unknown. Democracy was initially an experiment in this country as well, although the special circumstances of its birth favored a good outcome. The birth pangs in Iraq have been bloody, but, along with Richard Fernandez, the brothers at Iraq the Model, and Michael Yon, I am encouraged by signs that the Iraqis may indeed be–as Fernandez puts it–engaged in “constructing a future for themselves, which…will eventually be rational and intelligent.”
Or, as rational and intelligent as one can hope for when we flawed specimens, human beings, are involved.