Making War to Keep Peace

by Jeane J. Kirkpatrick

  The political framework established by Security Council Resolution 1244 is important to Kosovo’s improved situation. The resolution adopted the proposals from the G-8 meeting in Cologne, which still classify Kosovo as constitutionally part of Serbia but under an international protectorate. It is administered under the civil authority of the UN Interim Administrative Mission in Kosovo (UNMIK), established on June 10, 1999.84 Pending final settlement of the matter, UNMIK was responsible for promoting the establishment of substantial autonomy and self-government in Kosovo; for performing basic civilian administrative functions; for organizing and overseeing the development of provisional institutions for democratic and autonomous self-government, including holding elections; transferring administrative duties to these institutions as they are established; for facilitating a political process to determine Kosovo’s future status; for supporting the reconstruction of key infrastructures; for maintaining law and order; for protecting human rights; and for ensuring the safe and unimpeded return of refugees and displaced persons to their homes in Kosovo.

  Security in the region was administered by an international security force, KFOR, which includes forces from Canada, Finland, France, Germany, Greece, Italy, Lithuania, Norway, Poland, Portugal, Sweden, Turkey, the United Kingdom, and the United States.85 The problem of how and whether to incorporate Russian troops was solved when the Russians marched over from Macedonia and took over the Pristina airport.86 The incident ended with the incorporation of Russian troops into NATO forces and the assignment of 2,850 Russian troops to the U.S., French, and German Multinational Brigade Kosovo Sectors. The Russians also retained responsibility for security at Pristina Airport, with another 750 troops.87

  But life in Kosovo is by no means back to normal. The economies of both Kosovo and Serbia were destroyed. And although the genocide was halted, the simmering hatred between the two sides, and the extremism and discrimination cultivated over a decade of violence, cannot be easily eliminated.

  Despite these problems, the prolonged UN presence has contributed positively to achieving long-term peace and stability in the region. UN efforts at reconciliation have encouraged the Serb and ethnic Albanian communities to cooperate. On July 23, 2000, representatives from both communities signed the Airlie Declaration at the Airlie House in Warrenton, Virginia. They agreed to work together toward “building a peaceful accommodation, despite great pains and sorrows suffered in past conflicts.”88 They agreed to cooperate in the development of democracy, free media, civil society, and the return of the displaced people and to create conditions for greater and safer participation of the Serbian community in local elections.

  This cooperation, however, was more easily achieved on paper than in reality. Despite efforts by the UN to involve the Serbian community in the democratic process, the Serbs boycotted municipal elections on October 28, 2000, and elections for the Kosovo Legislative Authority on November 17, 2001.89 Still, the UN reported that the elections went smoothly, with voter turnout of 64.3 percent of Kosovo’s 1.25 million eligible voters, and without any major incidents.90 Kosovars elected Ibrahim Rugova’s moderate party, the Democratic League of Kosovo (LDK), with 46 percent of the vote, although the LDK did not get enough votes to form a majority government.

  A much longer-term problem is the huge damage that was done to Kosovo during the 1990s. Although thousands of Kosovar refugees were eager to return from their temporary refuge in Macedonia, Albania, and Montenegro, the landscape they found when they arrived was devastated, full of destroyed villages and uninhabitable houses. Hashim Thaci, the leader of KLA, pledged that Kosovo would be a democratic nation and encouraged people to think that “Kosovo [would] have respect for human rights, a free media, democratic institutions, and free and democratic elections.”91 As reported by the New York Times, Thaci told a news conference that “the Yugoslavs should finally come to the realization that the future of Kosovo will be decided in Kosovo proper.”

  In retrospect, most Americans and much of the NATO leadership underestimated the strength and determination of Milošević and the Serb leadership. Winning Ugly, the excellent study of the Kosovo conflict by Ivo Daalder and Michael O’Hanlon, provides ample documentation of the pervasive, consistent underestimation of Serb strength. For example, they quote Secretary Albright on The NewsHour with Jim Lehrer on March 24, 1999, the night the bombing began: “I don’t see this as a long-term operation. I think this is something that is achievable in a relatively short period of time.”92 This expectation, the authors say, was “widely shared in Europe among civilian and political leaders alike.”93

  Still, however they may have underestimated the timing, the Western powers scored an important moral victory in Kosovo. Faced with a violent aggressor who refused to heed warnings, NATO took action—armed not with a mandate from the UN Security Council, but by consensus of its member nations, including the United States Congress. Even with congressional approval, some still feel that NATO should not have acted without a specific Security Council mandate. At the time, some members of the Contact Group were uncertain about the legal basis of their action. But the Yugoslavs had refused to comply with numerous demands from the Security Council under Chapter VII of the UN Charter. This non-compliance underlay the North Atlantic Council’s decision to act; they expected another Security Council resolution would be passed in the near future. In the meantime, however, Slobodan Milošević was posing an ever-increasing threat to international peace and security. Time was of the essence. And NATO seized the day.

  6.

  CONCLUSION: AFGHANISTAN AND IRAQ

  The doctrine of non-intervention, to be a legitimate principle of morality, must be accepted by all governments. The despots must consent to be bound by it as well as the free States. Unless they do, the profession of it by free countries comes but to this miserable issue, that the wrong side may help the wrong, but the right must not help the right. Intervention to enforce non-intervention is always rightful, always moral, if not always prudent.1

  —JOHN STUART MILL

  When terrorists attacked the United States on September 11, 2001, we were given ample reason to reassess the direction of our foreign policy during the preceding years. With disturbing clarity we could see that small groups, which were essentially anarchical and homeless in nature, had the will and the ever greater means to attack a superpower—more so, even, than the nations who harbored or sponsored them. Our foreign policy had become embroiled in peacekeeping and nation building under the interventionist efforts of a world collective of nations; we had set our national security second in priority, misleading ourselves that creating a world of peaceful nations would ensure the protection of our own national security interests.

  These trends in our foreign policy played out in two very different military actions after the September 11 attacks: one in Afghanistan, one in Iraq. One military action I could support without reservation, the other I did not support.

  Throughout my career, I have been careful not to criticize any sitting president, and I was not inclined to change my position in that regard when President George W. Bush sent troops across the border of Iraq. In fact, when asked, I even agreed to defend his actions. I believed then as I believe now that President Bush had the legal right to invade Iraq, if not entirely for the reasons his administration claimed. However, I also believe that he had neither the obligation nor the need to expand his military offensive into Iraq after sending troops into Afghanistan.

  What struck me then, and has remained with me ever since, is that the aggressors of this moment in time may be the small number of masterminds who direct the network of terror known as al Qaeda, but that they have their precursors in the bad actors we have encountered at other times and places in our history: the likes of Joseph Stalin in the former Soviet Union, or Slobodan Milošević in the former Yugoslavia. Aggressors are a constant in history. They seek to impose their will on governed masses, which are denied any voice in their own destinies and any recourse to justice. T
he rule of law, the sovereignty of states, and basic human rights become collateral damage before such ambitions.

  When great men in our history—Woodrow Wilson, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, and George Herbert Walker Bush most recently—have promoted the concept of a new world where peace is a priority shared by all nations, they have been guided by a certain vision of common purpose, of the importance of building a democratic world order. The resurgence of destructive aggressors may challenge the basic beliefs of great leaders, but it does not prove them fools. The United Nations, and the League of Nations that preceded it, have played a crucial role in the dialogue among nations, particularly in dealing with world aggressors. The founders of the UN, however, never intended that its role would extend to exercising sovereign rights reserved to its member states. In the years since the end of the cold war, efforts within the UN to usurp this power have contributed to undermining the peace and the stability of nations.

  As peacekeeping and nation-building efforts advanced over the fifteen years before the 2001 attacks, the role of the UN was expanded de facto. At the same time our foreign policy was losing focus; our attention to national security was subsumed by a desire to promote democracy, as if democracy alone could imbue chaotic societies and unstable governments with a respect for what we respected: the rule of law, basic human rights, and a peaceful world order. As the emergence of al Qaeda demonstrates, peace and stability among nations are not the priority of all groups who seek power in the world.

  As America watched the horrific images of the World Trade Center’s twin towers crumbling, the hull of the Pentagon burning, and a crater smoldering in a desolate field in Pennsylvania, it had never been more apparent how deeply the world had been affected by our efforts at peacekeeping and nation building—and how uncertain, and dangerous, the results of those efforts could be.

  THE SOVIET INVASION OF AFGHANISTAN

  When the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan on December 25, 1979, it devastated much of the country and kidnapped many Afghans. Suddenly, the United States was forced to formulate a policy with regard to this unfamiliar, distant region. Crafting policy in Afghanistan turned out to be far more complicated than most Americans realized, and the foreign policy decisions made in the following years set off a series of events from which we must learn if we are to understand the crossroad where our nation today stands.

  Afghans constitute a complex society with multiple tribes and clans who have fought one another for centuries. They are a tough people with a history of defeating whoever goes to war against them, including the Soviets—a fact of which they remain justly proud today.

  When the Soviets invaded, Afghanistan had experienced six years of political tumult after King Zahir Shah had been overthrown in 1973 by his cousin. The king’s anemic monarchy had been unable to assimilate with the strong forces of the tribal clans, and the unintended consequence was that the nation became a kind of vacuum, weakened by vying factions, ripe for foreign invasion. Sensing an opportunity to establish a presence in Asia, with a close proximity to the Middle East, the Soviets moved into Afghanistan, imposing their military and social justice by force.

  At the time of the invasion, we were in the midst of the cold war, at the height of the nuclear arms race, and the Soviet threat was our most urgent task. At this precarious moment in history, Americans became involved on the periphery of the Soviet war in Afghanistan. We helped the Afghans, or at least we tried to. We were not always certain which warlords we should help or trust, and we supported the Afghan resistance, led by the mujahideen, to defeat the Soviets. It is clear today that we made some mistakes, but we did our best, and eventually, with our help and Afghan ferocity, the Soviets withdrew from Afghanistan in February 1989 after ten years of bloody battles.

  At that time, I was serving in the U.S. government as a member of Ronald Reagan’s cabinet, his National Security Council, and an inner circle called the NSPG (National Security Planning Group). During our discussions on these subjects, we gave little consideration to whether it was prudent for the United States to leave Afghanistan after the Soviets withdrew. The conflict was done, and it seemed appropriate to leave, so we did. Talks of maintaining a U.S. presence, of extending an occupation, or even of nation building were not seriously contemplated. This was not due to a lack of compassion. It was because we assumed the people of Afghanistan, like people of all countries, would be eager to take control of their own affairs and govern themselves. This belief is shared by most Americans; that is fundamentally why the United States has never developed a colonial empire.

  Not long after the U.S. personnel left, fighting spread among the various warlords, ethnic groups, and factions in Afghanistan. The wars among these warlords and ethnic groups were bitter, characterized by personal violence among families, clans, and groups. The long struggles further fractured an already fragile society, until the Taliban emerged as the strongest and the most violent. Dogmatic and harsh, the intolerant Taliban moved ruthlessly to eliminate opponents and consolidate power. Their near-universal repression was far more onerous than anyone foresaw. Soon after seizing power, the Taliban began systematically subjugating other clans, and girls and women of every clan. Afghan women, who had previously enjoyed and participated in all facets of social and professional life, were swiftly sent home, ordered to resign from the hospitals and schools they once staffed and to leave the professional roles to men. Young girls were summarily turned away from their schools. Those who refused to follow Taliban rule were harshly punished. The Taliban’s punishments were frequent, ruthless, and carried out in public places: public floggings of women and men, amputations, executions, and stoning became frighteningly commonplace under Taliban rule. Many Afghans were deeply shocked by the new regime, and many of them went into exile. Large Afghan refugee communities formed in Europe and the United States, where many exiles detailed the cruelty and ruthlessness of the Taliban. Their ominous words and warnings should have been taken seriously by any government who sought to engage with Afghanistan.

  While the Taliban controlled much of Afghanistan, they were also providing refuge, education, and training to al Qaeda while the terrorist group prepared, trained, and plotted jihad against the West, culminating (so far) in their 2001 attacks on the United States. When the United States dismissed the possibility of occupying Afghanistan after the Soviets withdrew, or of participating in a nation-building effort there, we had no foreboding or expectation that anarchy and totalitarian terror might be a consequence. Even in retrospect, it is hard to imagine how anyone might have divined such devolution of circumstances.

  In fact, looking back at history and the decisions that were made, I believe that if we had understood the likely consequences, the United States would not have withdrawn from Afghanistan when the Soviets left. Instead, we might have preserved a presence, in order to help support a moderate faction cope with the challenge of Taliban extremists. In hindsight, we might also have recognized that at least one of the warring groups in Afghanistan would seek to settle the issues of government by force, if only because that is one turn of history we might always count on—the resurgence of coercive powers seeking to dominate others. Instead, the United States withdrew, for a noble but perhaps shortsighted reason: because Americans have no inclination to occupy other countries.

  Seventeen years after the end of the Soviet-Afghan war (and three U.S. administrations later), President George W. Bush took to the airwaves to announce that the first military response to the 9/11 attacks had begun. “On my orders,” he announced, “the United States military has begun strikes against al Qaeda terrorist training camps and military installations of the Taliban regime in Afghanistan.”2 The Bush administration immediately declared its reasons to the people it governed and to the world. In explaining the launch of Operation Enduring Freedom, the U.S. rightly argued that the 9/11 attacks were part of a series of strikes on the United States that had begun in 1993. This campaign of attacks had now intensified, and that escalation wa
rranted an escalated response. Moreover, the United States and United Kingdom had the strength of evidence that more attacks were impending if they did not take action. Action was required in the name of national security, for threats from the Taliban and al Qaeda had already been carried out and more were imminent. This marks one critical distinction between the Bush Doctrine as it was applied to Afghanistan, and as it was later expressed in justifying the invasion of Iraq.

  Another distinct difference between the Bush administration’s military operations in Afghanistan and in Iraq was found in the reactions in the world community and the UN. When Operation Enduring Freedom began, world opinion rallied alongside the United States and its stated objectives in Afghanistan. Notably, Secretary-General Kofi Annan refrained from criticizing the United States or Britain during or after their military strikes in Afghanistan. When he was asked why he had not done more to fight terrorism, and if he thought the UN had been sidelined during Operation Enduring Freedom, his response suggested a view of the United Nations that goes beyond its traditional role: