In Iraq and Afghanistan, General David Petraeus applied all the lessons learned in Vietnam—except for the one that mattered most.
The Insurgents makes clear that Petraeus didn’t accomplish the feat of reorienting the Bush administration’s attitude toward Iraq and counterinsurgency by himself. The book’s strength lies in the rich detail Kaplan offers the reader as he traces the network of colleagues all dedicated to stopping the violence in Iraq by employing classic counterinsurgency techniques. He untangles the web of professional connections much the same way an intelligence analyst might track down the associates of an al-Qaeda cell. (Many of the key players spent time either studying or teaching in West Point’s Department of Social Sciences, including Petraeus.) What emerges is a meticulously researched picture of the conferences, back-channel meetings, white papers, and PowerPoint presentations that culminated in the rewriting of the field manual.
There are dozens of supporting players in Kaplan’s telling of the story. Chief among them is Frederick Kagan, a resident scholar at the American Enterprise Institute, a conservative think tank based in Washington, D.C. Kagan authored a widely read report published in December 2006 that concluded Iraq could be stabilized with about 30,000 more troops. The study was heavily promoted by General Jack Keane, the former U.S. Army vice chief of staff, who privately urged both Bush and Vice President Dick Cheney to heed its recommendations. Despite the growing unpopularity of the war, the administration was open to their arguments.
One other important factor would have to fall into place before things could come together. After years of ignoring the reality on the ground in Iraq and Afghanistan, Rumsfeld resigned in November 2006.
If Petraeus is the protagonist, albeit with flaws, in Kaplan’s telling of the story, Rumsfeld is one of its biggest villains. More than two years after invading Iraq, the defense secretary still wouldn’t allow his senior staff to use the word “insurgency,” even as it was clear the situation was deteriorating before their very eyes. General Peter Pace, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, was publicly chastised for uttering the term during a press conference. Rumsfeld “didn’t want to get bogged down in securing and stabilizing Iraq after Baghdad had fallen—so he didn’t make any plans to do so,” Kaplan explains. “It wasn’t an oversight; it was deliberate.”
It wasn’t until August 2004, a full seventeen months after the cruise missiles began pummeling Baghdad, that the Pentagon began crafting a comprehensive reconstruction plan. Individual mid-level commanders had tried to implement COIN tactics to a degree, working with local leaders to rebuild schools or recruit a police force. But without an overarching strategy, their efforts could not be sustained. Despite the urgent need in the field for guidance, the Defense Department quickly became bogged down by bureaucratic infighting. This, combined with an officer corps that was still reticent to take on nation building, stymied progress. It would take another fifteen months before the plan—called Defense Department Directive 3000.05—would be put into practice.
The fact that the secretary of defense simply wasn’t interested in stability operations further slowed things down. Rumsfeld was instead focused on what he believed was a more important task: transforming the military into a lighter, leaner force that relied on smart bombs, high-tech sensors, and laser-guided missiles to attack the enemy from afar. Counterinsurgency couldn’t be boiled down to a stealthy aircraft traveling at the speed of sound dropping GPS-enhanced munitions. It was slow, messy, and more risky. It required a large number of troops to occupy a foreign land, live among the people, and establish a level of trust. That could take years—if it ever happened.
It had taken close to forty-eight months from the time the war started to the point when counterinsurgency became the official plan. The lag made it difficult to deal with the deeply entrenched sectarian divide. The number of civilian casualties and roadside bombs started to decline in 2007, but the government of Nouri al-Maliki, Iraq’s prime minister, had been allowing (if not all-out fueling) an ethnic-cleansing campaign that resulted in thousands of its Sunni rivals being kidnapped and killed. Backing the government in this case meant undermining America’s ultimate goal of creating a unified Iraq. Two years later, when Petraeus would try to rectify the similar problems in Afghanistan, he would hit a similar wall with President Hamid Karzai.
Kaplan saves his most withering critique for the end of the book. Though he writes that Petraeus is “rather bright, even sunny, bursting with outside enthusiasm” and applauds the general’s rigorous work habits, Kaplan doesn’t ignore the major problems with the counterinsurgency doctrine. (If you don’t make it all the way through the last few chapters, you could get the impression that this book is a paean to Petraeus and his merry band of strategists.) Though the Iraq troop surge was deemed a success for reducing civilian casualties, the sustainability of the gains that were made remains an open question. The country continues to struggle with suicide bombings. The authoritarian Maliki government is busy arresting political rivals and siding with Iran to the detriment of U.S. interests. In Afghanistan, Petraeus’s efforts to beat back the Taliban and reign in government corruption were halted by a decentralized power structure that ran on bribes and the whims of rural tribesmen who felt little, if any, loyalty to Karzai.
Petraeus and most of those who bought into his doctrine made some crucial miscalculations. Even if the Army was able to provide security and services to local populations, there was still no guarantee they would in turn give their loyalty to a government propped up by U.S. forces. There was always a danger that the people would see any American-backed leaders as illegitimate. Perhaps more importantly, it won’t always be the case that our strategic goals will line up neatly with those of the host country. “As a commander, Petraeus had stressed the importance of getting ‘the big ideas’ right, but the ideas in COIN theory weren’t as big as he seemed to believe,” Kaplan writes. “Counterinsurgency is a technique, not a grand strategy.”
So why then was Petraeus built up to such mythical heights even within the military? In a sense, we needed to believe that Petraeus triumphed—that all we needed was a brilliant general with a grand new strategy to extract us from messes in Iraq and Afghanistan. We need Petraeus to achieve victory because otherwise we lose. And nobody likes thinking about that.
Kaplan concludes with the thought that Petraeus and others were able to change the military to be more flexible—and that is a good thing. Being able to perform stability operations, or at least not ignoring the fact that they might be called upon to do them, is a skill the modern military will need going forward. But Kaplan also notes, after the lessons of Iraq and Afghanistan a president may be hard pressed to commit troops in a faraway land when the goals aren’t clear and national security isn’t really on the line.
Maybe the generals who fought in Vietnam were on to something after all.
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