What They Say and What I Hear
I’ve been quite snippy in several of my recent posts on counter-insurgency theory and Afghanistan, particularly calling out Andrew Exum, Tom Ricks, and Steve Biddle. I’ve gotten some push back on my tone, and I feel a need to explain where I am coming from. I genuinely feel that the debate over these issues has been problematic because many of the supporters of the now-dominant consensus feel like comrades baptized in the fire of trying to rescue the Iraq mission from disaster. But the problem is that when they won the debate — convincing Bush to surge in 2006 rather than retrench — instead of opening up the process and soliciting alternative views (to test their arguments at the very least), they remained insular, self-congratulatory, and in too many instances vengeful. So I came into the debate with a certain degree of annoyance.
But what has really set me off recently is the adoption — probably unwittingly, but still unmistakeably of various Bush-era tactics of dissent suppression. So here is my pledge… if the “COINdinistas” will refrain from the four following tactics I will do my very best to be more respectful in my tone and more generous in my assumption of motives:
- When they say, “that Afghanistan never again become a haven for terrorism against the United States,” I hear, “if you question my arguments, it means you are soft on terrorism.” The issue is not the desire to reduce our risk, the issue is the absolutism involved in the “never again” argument. There are legitimate debates about what are the most effective options for preventing and deterring attacks, but that kind assertion of the stakes is not meant to sponsor a nuanced debate over choices. It is — I think — a rhetorical appeal to emotion, a metaphoric waving of the “bloody shirt” of 9/11.
- When they say, “How about a novel approach at this particular point in time – give the Commander in Chief, the National Command Authority, State… and most importantly, the Commanding General and his staff in Afghanistan some efing breathing room to sort this out?“, I hear, “debate is unpatriotic and puts our troops at risk.” We heard this over and over during the Bush years. Even if the COINdinistas don’t mean it that way now, are they surprised that is how many of us take it? Let’s have a moratorium on calls for moratoriums on debate, shall we?
- When they say, “There is a growing realization that we can run the greatest counterinsurgency campaign in the world’s history in Afghanistan and that it will all be for naught as long as the government of Afghanistan remains weak, catastrophically corrupt, or both…“, I hear, “don’t blame me if things go wrong, blame the Afghans.” We said the same sort of thing about the Iraqis. But look, if your strategic concept — you know, that which connects your proposed military operations to the political outcomes you desire requires the Afghans to do certain things which are unlikely or impossible, that is a problem with the strategy, not with the Afghans.
- When they say, “the moral obligations that we… assumed in getting involved in Afghanistan” as a hurdle to withdrawal, I hear, “if you debate my strategic arguments, I will question your humanity and decency.” As I have said elsewhere,
“If you want to make Afghanistan a humanitarian intervention, then go ahead and pitch it that way. I am sympathetic to the argument actually. I do worry about Afghan women and Afghans who have thrown in their lot with the United States.
….
But if that is a core argument, make it up front, don’t save it for the end as a way impugn the humanity and decency of critics of the war.”
So these are my requests. We can have a productive debate. We skeptics can do a better job of not imputing ill-intent to what might just be inartfully worded phrases. But supporters of the war could also improve the climate by avoiding these sort of “cheap” rhetorical tricks.

I don’t think your critics are engaging you either directly or deeply.
Having said that, I also see little evidence that any participant in these debates has a deep understanding of that part of the world. When I read just about anything on Afghanistan and the badlands across the Durand Line, I get a sense of how wild and alien the place is. I don’t see a whole hell of a lot an American or NATO army can accomplish in that environment. What political legitimacy can Western armies actually possess in Afghanistan? I think none, which bodes ill for achieving success. I think these discussions are more about what we Americans want than what is best for the Afghans. We Americans knew next to nothing about Vietnam; next to nothing about Iraq, and yet we insist on repeating for the third time in Afghanistan the application of our ignorance. We refuse to acknowledge the limits of our understanding and of our resources.