Getting a Read on American War:
Publish or Perish
by Nick Turse
Quick -- name the five most important, influential, and best known
books on the Afghan War. Okay, name three. Okay, I’ll settle for two.
How about one?
While the American war in Vietnam raged, publishers churned out books
whose titles still resonate. In 1967 alone, classics like Mary
McCarthy’s Vietnam, Howard Zinn’s Vietnam: The Logic of Withdrawal, Thich Nhat Hanh’s Vietnam: Lotus in a Sea of Fire, not to mention Norman Mailer’s Why Are We in Vietnam: A Novel all hit the shelves.
In fact, between 1962 and 1970, as American involvement in the
conflict accelerated and peaked, some 9,430 books were written about the
Vietnam War. From 2002 to 2010, less than half as many -- 4,221 texts
of all types -- have been written about the Afghan War.
[Note for TomDispatch readers: I
have a special offer to make today. Nick Turse has written regularly
for this site since 2003. He’s a genuine home-grown star of TomDispatch
and has just published a new book on the Afghan War, its title
highlighting the sole option that seems not to be on Washington’s
“table” when all the options are supposedly there: The Case for Withdrawal from Afghanistan (Verso).
The remarkable British journalist Patrick Cockburn has termed it “a
fascinating and essential guide,” and it contains a stellar line-up of
leading critical analysts of the Afghan War, including Andrew Bacevich, Malalai Joya, Chalmers Johnson, and Ann Jones.
As a sign of his support for TomDispatch, Turse has agreed to sign a
copy of his book for any TD reader or enthusiast willing to contribute
$75 to this site. (All contributions to TomDispatch.com are
tax-deductible to the extent provided by law. For more information, click here.)
In the past, surprising numbers of
you have dug into your pockets and contributed generously to this
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first time or again, and contribute $75 directly to TomDispatch (by
clicking on the “support us” icon to the right of the main screen or
simply by going here),
will get your own personalized, autographed copy of Turse’s new book,
and I can’t tell you how appreciative we at TD will be. Keep in mind
that if you can’t offer such a sum, but are still eager for Turse’s
latest work (as well you should be!), you can order it by clicking here.
If you buying his book (or anything else) after arriving at Amazon.com
via a TomDispatch book link, we get a small cut of your purchase, a
gesture of support that won’t cost you a cent! Tom]
On January 1, 1970, when Noam Chomsky’s essay “After Pinkville” was first published in the New York Review of Books,
reading was still an antiwar activity, and often a transformative one.
Books and articles changed minds, altered lives, helped you mobilize,
and then keep going. And it almost seemed that everyone who was doing
anything was also writing about it. As Colonel Robert D. Heinl, Jr.,
noted in 1971 in Armed Forces Journal --
while pointing to “widespread conditions among American forces in
Vietnam that have only been exceeded in this century by the French
Army’s Nivelle mutinies of 1917 and the collapse of [the] Tsarist armies
[of Russia] in 1916 and 1917” -- as many as 144 “underground” papers
were being published for soldiers. Some were simply aimed at them by
antiwar activists, but a surprising number were written and published by
dissident troops themselves. “In Vietnam,” the Ft. Lewis-McChord Free Press typically wrote, “the lifers, the Brass, are the true Enemy, not the enemy.”
Recently, I reread Chomsky’s “After Pinkville.” (“Pinkville” was a
generic U.S. military name for the village of My Lai where a company of
U.S. Army troops carried out the
single most horrific, up-close-and-personal slaughter of the war: more
than 500 Vietnamese women, children, infants, and old men were murdered,
none resistant, many finishing breakfast.) Chomsky’s essay remains a
devastating account of the kind of large-scale, widespread destruction
-- the dimensions of which are now largely forgotten and even at the
time were ill-known here -- the U.S. military visited on rural South
Vietnam at the height of the war. As he then summed it up, “The world’s
most advanced society has found the answer to people’s war: eliminate
the people.” In that essay, Chomsky was chiding the antiwar movement
for not doing more and urging on those of us in it. It made a
singularly powerful impression on me at the time -- and it should have.
He concluded: “Continued mass actions, patient explanation, principled
resistance can be boring, depressing. But those who program the B52
attacks and the ‘pacification’ exercise are not bored, and as long as
they continue in their work, so must we.”
Today, the U.S. has been fighting two nightmarish wars of destruction
on either end of the Greater Middle East, and yet such an essay would,
in essence, be almost impossible to write. There is, in a sense, no one
to write it for. Nick Turse who, in recent years, has traveled the backlands and
rural villages of Vietnam and Cambodia interviewing villagers who
suffered through the American wars in their countries, knows a good deal
about what war really means to those who can’t leave when the going
gets tough and stays tough, year after miserable year. He also knows a
good deal about what sorts of war literature were available to
Americans, then and now. His just-published book, The Case for Withdrawal from Afghanistan,
runs distinctly against the tide of twenty-first century war
publications in America. (To catch him discussing the “Pentagon
printing press” and the Afghan War in a Timothy MacBain TomCast audio
interview, click here or, to download it to your iPod, here.) Tom
Getting a Read on American War
Publish or Perish
by Nick Turse
Of course, it didn’t help that, from 2003-2008, the Iraq War sucked
up all the attention and left Afghanistan largely “forgotten,”
analytically and otherwise, nor did it help that the Afghan War never
had a significant antiwar movement. The vibrant, large-scale movement
of the Vietnam years, filled with people eager to learn more about just
what they were protesting, proved an engine that drove publishers. Significant numbers of books produced by and for members of that
movement investigated aspects of the civilian suffering the American war
brought to Indochina. Not surprisingly, the Afghan War has produced
many fewer works on the conflict’s human fallout, and books like Zinn’s,
calling for withdrawal, have been few and far between.
Four decades ago, a stream of books was being produced for popular
audiences that exposed the nature of war-making and focused readers’
attention on the misery caused by U.S. military actions abroad. Today, a
startling percentage of the authors who bother to focus on the current
conflict are producing works dedicated to waging the seemingly endless
American war in Afghanistan better.
Pentagon Reading Lists
Just recently, the Pentagon put a book focused on the Afghan War, Operation Dark Heart
by Lt. Col. Anthony Shaffer, on the bestseller list. No mean feat in
itself. The initial version of Shaffer’s book, vetted and cleared for
release by his Army Reserve chain of command, was already in print and
about to head for local bookstores when the Pentagon got cold feet about
letting the man who ran the Defense Intelligence Agency’s operations
out of Afghanistan’s Bagram Airfield in 2003-2004 have his say. At a
cost of almost $50,000 taxpayer dollars, the Defense Department promptly
reached an agreement with Shaffer and his publisher to buy up and then
destroy most of that print run -- about 9,500 copies. The resulting
publicity from the military’s official book-burning vaulted a newly
redacted version to number one on Amazon.com’s bestseller list and,
according to Army Times, “a week after going on sale, it was on its third reprint with 50,000 copies sold or on sale.”
Operation Dark Heart’s path to prominence may have been
atypical, but when it comes to books on the Afghan War, the Pentagon has
driven sales and shaped the market in other powerful ways. For one
thing, the war has produced a plethora of professional military reading
lists populated by books designed to help officers and enlisted
personnel become educated in the hottest subject in military affairs:
counterinsurgency (COIN) doctrine -- the same disastrous form of warfare
that, in the Vietnam years, indirectly produced so many books for
antiwar reading lists.
Take the “Commander's Counterinsurgency Reading List” from the U.S. Army’s Combined Arms Center. It contains seven key texts, most of them classic works, including The Evolution of a Revolt by
T.E. Lawrence (of Arabia), but its “additional readings” contain newer
faves like retired Army colonel and COIN uber-cheerleader John Nagl’s 2002 text, Learning to Eat Soup with a Knife: Counterinsurgency Lessons from Malaya and Vietnam. Similarly,
a pre-deployment reading list for Army personnel shipping out to
Afghanistan breaks down selections by rank, assigning privates a series
of texts, including Taliban: Militant Islam, Oil and Fundamentalism in Central Asia by Ahmed Rashid, while their colonels are told to read Nagl’s book, among other works.
"Today's military thinker must appreciate the many
dimensions -- political, environmental, economic, informational, and
others -- that comprise international security," said
Air Force Chief of Staff General Norton Schwartz in July, marking the
latest of his office’s quarterly recommendations of books to read.
Among the selections was former Australian infantry officer and
counterinsurgency expert David Kilcullen’s 2009 offering, The Accidental Guerrilla: Fighting Small Wars in the Midst of a Big One, which also appeared on this year’s U.S. Army War College’s “suggested military reading list.”
But don’t think this is strictly a military
phenomenon. Nagl’s and Kilcullen’s works and others like them, focused
on enhancing war-fighting capabilities, not stirring debate on the
wisdom or morality of the war in question or war-making in general, are
increasingly being sold to civilian audiences, too. In recent years,
newspapers and magazines have done their part in publicizing selections
from such military reading lists and from military or former military
figures. The process, involving articles, positive book reviews, op-ed opportunities, as well as raves from pundits and commentators, can now transform even a once little-noticed Pentagon-approved tract into a must-read for the book-buying public.
Confessions of a COINdinista
With the career implosion
of General Stanley McChrystal this past summer, Kilcullen became
America’s second foremost "COINdinista" -- as advocates of
counterinsurgency warfare are now called. Numero uno, of course, is
General David Petraeus, who first dusted off Vietnam’s counterinsurgency
doctrine, long discarded by the U.S. military, and made it gleam in a
2006 manual produced for the Army and Marines. It even got its own
trade edition complete with a foreword co-authored by none other than,
you guessed it, Petraeus himself. He then employed Kilcullen, who was
(like Nagl) one of the field manual’s many co-authors, as his senior
counterinsurgency advisor while he commanded the Multinational Force in
Iraq in 2007. Today, Kilcullen serves as the President and Chief
Executive Officer of Caerus, a private consulting firm which sells advice to those operating in areas in crisis, like war and disaster zones.
This year, Kilcullen has a new book out. Its one-word title could hardly be more sweeping: Counterinsurgency.
No ifs, ands, or buts about it, even though, as the author immediately
informs readers, the book is simply “a snapshot of wartime thinking,” a
collection of new and previously published selections “written mainly in
the field during the conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan.” In reality,
the COIN guru’s latest offering is yet another manual, complete with
rounded corners and an easy-to-grip, beveled “tough cover,” designed to
be tossed into a rucksack and taken to war -- or simply meant to thrill a
certain class of armchair COINdinistas.
No one reading this book or his previous one can doubt Kilcullen is
smart, even if quite a few of his observations come across as anything
but. Case in point are some of his “twenty-eight articles” (a reference
to T.E. Lawrence’s famed “Twenty-Seven Articles” on waging an
insurgency, a title choice which manages to imply that Kilcullen is the
new Lawrence of… well, the Greater Middle East). These fundamentals for
company-level counterinsurgency, distributed on-line ad infinitum by the COIN community, have already become very influential within the U.S. military.
Here’s a little sample: “Be prepared for setbacks.” No shit. “Have a
game plan.” Ditto. “Rank is nothing: talent is everything.” Alright
already. You get the idea.
While America does send mere boys into combat, one hopes the slightly older boys leading them would have already discovered many of these truths.
Likely as not, military fans have embraced Kilcullen’s 27-plus-1,
because it is a short read in the always-popular checklist format.
More interesting than anything in Kilcullen’s new book is what it
says about the topics on the table for the military crowd and what
publishers like Oxford University Press, which sent the text into the
world, think is important about the Afghan War. Counterinsurgency is in. War-fighting handbooks are in. Gimmick covers designed for the warzone are in.
Analysis about whether to fight such wars, investigation of the true
costs of war to those most affected, plans to end bloody costly wars:
all definitely out.
The Pentagon Printing Press
Kilcullen, now freelancing “in the board
room, the battle space, and anywhere in between” (according to his
company’s website), represents one militarized segment of this
overwhelmingly pro-war, or at least anti-antiwar, publishing trend.
Another party responsible for beefing up the numbers when it comes to
books on the Afghan War is the military itself.
Over the last year, the Pentagon’s own publishing arms have been printing up a storm. Take Afghanistan Counterinsurgency and the Indirect Approach,
released earlier this year by the Joint Special Operations University
-- a Pentagon professional school designed to meet the “specific
educational needs of special operators and non-SOF [special operations
forces] national security decision makers.” It is just one of the many
monographs pouring off Pentagon presses that investigate various aspects
of COIN and related concepts with an eye toward improving U.S. fortunes
in Afghanistan. In the book, Thomas Henrikson, former Army officer
and now senior fellow at the Hoover Institution, conducts a historical
analysis of the “indirect approach” to COIN. (In other words, when
Americans partner with, or rely on, local forces to carry out U.S. wars
abroad.) And guess what? He thinks it’s exactly the way to go, so long as it’s done with “thoughtfulness,” and so he advocates for more of the same in the years ahead.
Another Joint Special Operations University monograph on COIN concepts published this year, Joseph Celeski’s Hunter-Killer Teams: Attacking Enemy Safe Havens,
analyzes past efforts at “hunter-killer operations” -- long-term lethal
missions conducted in enemy safe havens designed to out-guerrilla enemy
guerrillas. Celeski, a retired colonel who spent 30 years in the Army
and served two tours commanding special ops units in Afghanistan, offers
a hunter-killer survey of history ranging from brutal American colonial
efforts against Native Americans to the ruthless anti-partisan warfare
of Nazi jagdkommandos during World War II. While he’s at it,
he can’t help cataloging a sordid history of soldiers making war on
noncombatants in the name of counterinsurgency.
You would think that, given the lineage of hunter-killer operations
and where they always seem to lead, Celeski might suggest that they are
ineffective in a COIN environment, where “hearts and minds” are key, and
a sure road to war crimes and civilian suffering. Not so. Instead, he
advocates the creation of new, specialized “hunter-killer” units within
the U.S. military. And on the ground he’s in good company, it turns
out. At this moment, according to the New York Times,
Afghan War commander Petraeus is threatening (more) cross-border ground
operations into Pakistan and “greatly expanding Special Operations
raids (as many as a dozen commando raids a night).”
War -- What Is It Good For?
A marketplace filled with books by former military men devoted to
tweaking, enhancing, and improving war-fighting capabilities cries out
for some counterbalance. This year’s foremost civilian-authored text on
the conflict in Afghanistan is, without a doubt, Sebastian Junger’s War.
While nothing like the antiwar texts of the 1960s and 1970s that laid
bare the folly and terror of American campaigns in Southeast Asia, War still offers a rare glimpse of the horrors that authors like Celeski, Henrikson, and Kilcullen tend to skip over or discount.
Early in his book, Junger recounts a Navy SEAL’s admission that the
only thing that stopped him from executing three unarmed Afghans was
concern about the press catching wind of the murders. A page later, he
writes of an American attempt to take out a mid-level Taliban leader in
Chichal, a village high above Afghanistan’s Korengal Valley, that killed
17 civilians instead. The military responsible for training that elite
fighter who felt unconstrained by the laws of war and the men who
called in the air strike on Chichal is the very one Kilcullen and
various Pentagon minds think can carry out kind-COIN.
As a book, War suffers from many of the pitfalls that afflicted its movie companion, the documentary Restrepo.
The overly ambitious title belies the fact that it is not about “war,”
but one aspect of war, combat, as experienced by U.S. Army troops in
Korengal Valley. Moreover, there’s a dismaying amount of
combat-friendly hyperbole and celebratory rhetoric in and around the
book, from the publisher’s book-jacket prose labeling combat “the
ultimate test of character” -- a theme that buzzes through the entire
book -- to a famous chapter-leading quote by George Orwell or Winston
Churchill (Junger refuses to decide which) that tells us we all “sleep
soundly in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit
violence on those who would do us harm.”
Unfortunately, as the last century showed, too many “rough men” were
all too willing to do the bidding of leaders like Hitler, Stalin, Pol
Pot, Suharto, Brezhnev, Johnson, and Nixon, to name just a few, to the
detriment of many millions who ended up dead, wounded, or
psychologically scarred. All of this suggests that perhaps if we
stopped celebrating “rough men,” we could all sleep easier.
That said, there is much to be learned from Junger’s in-print version
of Americans-at-war. His blow-by-blow accounts of small unit combat
actions, for instance, drive home the tremendous firepower American
troops unleash on enemies often armed with little more than rifles and
rocket-propelled grenades. Page after page tallies up American
technology and firepower: M-4 assault rifles (some with M-203 grenade
launchers), Squad Automatic Weapons or SAWs, .50 caliber machine guns,
M-240 machine guns, Mark-19 automatic grenade launchers, mortars, 155 mm
artillery, surveillance drones, Apache attack helicopters, AC-130
Spectre gunships, A-10 Warthogs, F-15 and F-16 fighter-bombers, B-52 and
B-1 bombers, all often brought to bear against boys who may be wielding
nothing more than Lee-Enfield bolt-action rifles -- a state of the art weapon when introduced. That, however, was in the 1890s.
The profligacy of relying on such overwhelming firepower is not lost
on Junger who offers a useful insight in regard to another high-tech,
high-priced piece of U.S. weaponry, “a huge shoulder-fired rocket called
a Javelin.” Junger writes: “Each Javelin round costs $80,000, and the
idea that it's fired by a guy who doesn’t make that in a year at a guy
who doesn’t make that in a lifetime is somehow so outrageous it almost
makes the war seem winnable.”
But “almost,” as the old adage goes, only counts when it comes to
horseshoes and hand grenades. And bombs dropped by B-1s, like one
unleashed at night near the village of Yaka Chine, are certainly not
hand grenades. Junger chronicles the aftermath of that strike when U.S.
troops encountered “three children with blackened faces… a woman lying
stunned mute on the floor [while f]ive corpses lie on wooden pallets
covered by white cloth outside the house, all casualties from the
airstrikes the night before.” He continues, “The civilian casualties
are a serious matter and will require diplomacy and compensation.”
Instead, an American lieutenant colonel choppers in to lecture
village elders about the evils of “miscreants” in their midst and brags
about his officers’ educational prowess and how it can benefit the
Afghans. “They stare back unmoved,” writes Junger. “The Americans fly
out of Yaka Chine, and valley elders meet among themselves to decide
what to do. Five people are dead in Yaka Chine, along with ten wounded,
and the elders declare jihad against every American in the valley.”
Vignettes like this drive home the reasons why, after nearly a decade of
overwhelming firepower, the U.S. war in Afghanistan has yet to prove
“winnable,” despite the ministrations of Kilcullen and crew.
Later in the book we read about how Junger survives an improvised
explosive device that detonates beneath his vehicle. He’s saved only by
a jumpy trigger-man who touches two wires to a battery a bit too early
to kill Junger and the other occupants of the Army Humvee he’s riding
in. In response, Junger writes: “[T]his man wanted to negate everything
I’d ever done in my life or might ever do. It felt malicious and
personal in a way that combat didn’t. Combat gives you the chance to
react well and survive; bombs don’t allow for anything.”
Junger, at least, traveled across the world to consciously and
deliberately put himself in harm’s way. Imagine how the poor people of
Yaka Chine must have felt when a $300 million American aircraft swooped
in to drop a bomb on them in the dead of night. Junger’s book helps
reveal these facts far better than his movie.
Getting a Read on War
Surveying this year’s Afghan War literature from popular best-sellers
to little noticed Army monographs is generally disheartening but
illuminating. “The moral basis of the war doesn’t interest soldiers
much,” writes Junger near the beginning of his book. “[T]hey generally
leave the big picture to others.”
America’s fighting men at the front are not alone. Most Americans
have similarly chosen to ignore the “moral basis” for the war and the
big picture as well. They have been aided and abetted in this not only
by a president evidently bent on escalating the conflict at every turn,
but also by a coterie of authors -- many of them connected to the
Pentagon -- content to critique only doctrine, strategy, and tactics.
Each of them is eager to push for his favorite flavor of warfare, but
loath to address weightier issues. Perhaps this is one reason why
Junger’s front-line troops -- if they are indeed sampling the best the
military’s prescribed reading lists have to offer -- have a tendency to
ignore fundamental issues and skip intellectual and moral inquiry.
If Pentagon-consultant-turned-potential-defense-contractor Kilcullen
and the Joint Special Operations University’s author corps aren’t going
to address morals and “big picture” issues, then the Sebastian Jungers
of the world need to step up and cover the real, everyday face of war:
the plight of civilians in the conflict zone. They also should focus on
big-picture issues like whether the United States actually has anything
approaching a true strategic vision when it comes to its wars and
occupations abroad, whether there truly is a global Islamist insurgency
as Kilcullen maintains, whether it could ever coalesce into a worldwide
threat, and whether whatever it is that exists should be attacked with
the force of arms. They need to offer more help in launching serious
mainstream debate about America’s permanent state of war and its
fallout.
The U.S. military’s reading lists are, not surprisingly, dedicated to
combat and counterinsurgency. So are its favorite authors. To them,
combat is war. Civilians in war zones know better. They know that war
is suffering, because they live with it, not a tour at a time but
constantly, day after day, week after week, year after year. Civilians
outside war zones should know, too. It would be helpful if they had
authors with the skill, intellect, and courage to help them to
understand the truth.
Nick Turse is the associate editor of TomDispatch.com. An award-winning journalist, his work has appeared in the Los Angeles Times, the Nation, and regularly at TomDispatch. His latest book, The Case for Withdrawal from Afghanistan (Verso Books), which brings together leading analysts from across the political spectrum, has
just been published. Turse is currently a fellow at Harvard
University’s Radcliffe Institute. You can follow him on Twitter @NickTurse, on Tumblr, and on Facebook. His website is NickTurse.com.
To catch Turse discussing the “Pentagon printing press” and the Afghan
War in a Timothy MacBain TomCast audio interview, click here or, to download it to your iPod, here.
Copyright 2010 Nick Turse