Began as a Scripps column, now reappears in an expanded form in a compendium book edited by friend Ludes, who was John Kerry's long-time foreign policy guy in the Senate. Kerry writes the foreword. It's an American Security Project book, published by Fulcrum out of Golden, Colorado. I just got my hardcover copy in the mail.
After Kerry and an intro by Jim, it's Paul Pillar, Robert Galluci and John Bryson Chane on "The Coming of the War." Then it's Daniel Christman, Robert Hormats, Steven Livingston, John Nagl, Bernard Finel, Lee Gunn and me on "The Conduct of the War." My piece is titled, "The Lessons the World Has Learned."
Part three (The War and Instruments of National Power [Nondefense]) is Arthur Obermayer, Stephen Cheney, Joseph Collins, Morton Halperin, Benjamin Friedman and Christopher Preble, and Shibley Telhami. Four (The Department of Defense at War) is Bill Owens, Gordon Adams, Lawrence Korb, Claudia Kennedy and Frank Hoffman. The "conclusions" ending is Gary Hart, James Miller and Ludes.
For the record, this is my piece:
Looking at the United States from the outside in, these are the primary lessons I think the world takes away from America's global war on terrorism under Bush-Cheney.
If I were a potential state-based adversary of the United States, I would take little comfort from America's record in Afghanistan and Iraq to date, primarily because its military has shown itself capable of learning how to better shape outcomes--its Achilles' heel since World War II. Worse, that learning curve has kept its casualty levels low enough to call into question the long-held assumption that, after Vietnam, America has the patience only for short wars.
Prior to Iraq and the painful evolution it forced upon the US military, the Powell Doctrine's focus on "overwhelming force" translated into a first-half team (war) with little to no capacity to go the distance (post-war). Thus, America's military power faced no strategic or kinetic limits, but suffered distinct process limits that invited asymmetrical responses.
Now, the key limit on America's use of force is operational capacity, meaning it's becoming a truly full-service cop, albeit one burdened by an impossibly large beat. As such, what America has relearned in Iraq concerning the utility of subcontracting security responsibility to incentivized locals (e.g., the Sunni awakening) will inevitably be applied on an international scale.
None of these realities bodes well for non-state enemies of globalization's advance, for they suggest that the United State--unlike Europe or Japan--is able to once again tap into its historical experience as a powerful integrator of economic frontiers. Although September 11 temporarily triggered America's profound rage, the long, hard postwar slogs in Iraq and Afghanistan have not sent America over any ideological cliff--as evidence by Barack Obama's victory over John McCain.
As a result, adversarial non-state actors should recalculate assumptions about the desirability of attracting America's entry into perceived quagmires. Socializing your fight internationally doesn't elicit the binary benefits of the cold war, and if the Americans cannot be bled to exhaustion in any one conflict and will simply refuse to participate in additional ones once their perceived operational bandwidth is tapped, luring them into "imperial overreach" is unlikely to yield victory within an acceptable time frame.
While America plays Leviathan-like bodyguard to globalization's advance, its private sector is not the primary agent of integration today. In developing areas, that role falls increasingly and overwhelmingly to rising great powers such as India and China, whose militaries are nowhere near advanced to the point where they can defend their nations' far-flung global economic interests. In both Beijing and New Delhi, those strategic awakenings are proceeding apace, creating new alliance opportunities for the U.S.
Thus, identifying your state or movement as some new wing of an anti-American coalition presents no strategic advantages (beyond local recruitment efforts), because rising great powers aren't interested in bankrolling such activity unless clear economic gains accrue--and if they are, then there's no good reason to incur America's wrath in the bargain. Such great powers want to piggyback on America's Leviathan services where they can, picking up only the cheapest wins where they cannot.
If you're a significant state actor, it's smarter to do what the Russians did in Georgia: punch hard and fast and get your business done quickly so that it can be presented to Washington as a fait accompli in the manner of a police action. If the Americans are sufficiently tied down elsewhere, your chances to achieve your desired outcome are high, assuming you can tolerate the subsequent economic punishments imposed by those competing great powers angered by your deeds.
If you're a great power willing to go down this route, it's smart to imitate America's approach: define the alleged bad guys in ideologically appropriate terms, observe the implied rules of a U.N.-sanctioned operation, and immediately offer to internationalize the "peaceful resolution" once your objectives have been secured. Above all, present your intervention as a boon to global economic stability. Nothing kills America's sense of urgency better than a sense of avoiding unwanted responsibility.
If you're a small state subject to a great power's perceived sphere of influence, these are humbling days. Sobered by recent experiences, America's military leadership now possesses a crystal ball on low-intensity conflict akin to the one it's long had on the subject of nuclear escalation, meaning there will be no stumblin' bumblin' dashes to inadvertent great power war à la 1914.
Finally, whether I'm a state-based or non-state actor, I would take one additional lesson: America remains a society that glorifies violence and has little trouble expressing itself in this manner internationally. America's relative ease in continuing to attract young recruits into its military--particularly its ground forces--is simply astonishing, as is the continuing irrelevance of its anti-war movement.
Having written the piece ten months ago, I feel it stands up just fine with time.
Another book on the shelf. This is the seventh one to which I've contributed a chapter.