Libya, Waiting to See
by zunguzungu
And so we are bombing Libya. Again we are put in the position—or we put ourselves in the position—of having to “have an opinion” on some indefensible action the United States takes overseas… (RC)
I.
Though I have lots of opinions, I am trying very hard not to have a position on what is happening in Libya. When a big patriotic, national interest event like this happens, the pressure to have a position can be quite strong if you have a high enough opinion of yourself to try to write about it, and that pressure can can force you to take what you think about what is happening — which is likely to be an incoherent aggregation of all sorts of different ideas — and jam it all into the round hole of “what you would do if you were president” or some other reduction to “yes” or “no.” But if you must relate toward the events in Libya as if you were the one making the choice, you will quickly find yourself begging the question that “what is to be done” is the question, and arguing within that frame such that “doing something” becomes the only possible way to relate to what is happening in Libya, either by its exercise or by its absence.
This is particularly a problem because there is no good option in Libya: with respect to UN intervention, both “nothing” and “something” are completely terrible. And you need to understand that I understand that, because otherwise — no matter how I say what I will eventually say about it — you may mistake me for someone who is in the business of not only predicting the future, but of demanding that a particular course of action, based on my particular insight into events, is the right one. You will mistake me for someone who is under the illusion that “if I were president” is a useful premise for commentary. It’s not, and I’m not doing that. I’m watching the news day-by-day, reading about the past and revising my opinion as I get more information. “When the facts change, I change my opinion,” as Keynes supposedly said; “What do you do, sir?”
One reason it’s dangerous to play the game of for or against is that it produces retroactive consent: by forcing you to take a position on a decision that was already made, you legitimize it by making it seem like there was a democratic process of discussion and debate. There was no democratic process here, nor could there have been, given the time constraints under which such a decision would have to be made. Democracy is slow and unwieldy, and the theory behind having an “executive power” is that it streamlines the decision-making process for decisions that have to be made quickly. We can argue about that theory, but I think we’re long past the point where we can be scandalized by it; every use of military force begins and is “declared” this way.
But this is why we shouldn’t pretend that our opinions right now matter in that way, why we shouldn‘t reduce our thinking to the simplicity of for or against. The two times when it’s useful and necessary to put our opinions in that simplified form are just before the decision (when as citizens, we might exercise some agency over actions done in our name), and far in the future, when we can look back with the benefit of hindsight and decide whether the outcome of that decision justifies revising our policy, assumptions, or whatever. At this point, however, neither is the case: we have little information about what the effects of the decision have been, and yet we also have no power to change the fait accompli that it has already become.
I would suggest, in fact, that it is precisely because there are no stakes in doing so that so many influential columnists and bloggers — who had no powerful opinions about Libya before the NFZ was declared, when their influence might have mattered — are now strongly asserting one position or another, vigorously battling each other over a decision that has just become academic. And while this very public debate over Libya (after the decision) allows us to pretend we have a real, functioning public sphere, self-important debate tricks us into thinking that debate actually is important, that “taking a position” is somehow a valuable and necessary social function. I would say, instead, that the fact that the decision has already been taken is actually what relieves their opinions of any force, thereby freeing them to perform their ideology for each other, to position themselves for the next big confrontation with their ideological foes, and to place their cultural and intellectual capital on the market and try to make it grow.
That’s the first problem, a mystification of how decisions are made and of the role that critical opinion plays in that process. The second has to do with the content of the opinions themselves. When you take a position on a contentious issue — especially in an intellectual arena like the blogosphere, where your name is your capital, and you’re trying to make it grow — you invest your ego in the position you take, such that what you think gets structured by the debate more than the by facts. And having staked out that personal position, you begin to take the existence of contrary positions personally: you seek out facts that support your position while (even subconsciously) downplaying facts that don’t, indignantly locking into the rhetorical position of regarding those who see the world differently as not simply, you know, seeing the situation differently, but as being, themselves, different. This last is the worst, I think: instead of being acutely aware of one particular aspect of the problem — and less acutely aware of others (say, the one most motivating you) — you begin to see them as ideologically flawed, even evil or stupid. But pointing out the ideological failings of opponents is a particularly fruitless form of ad hominem, since doing so allows you to pretend that your ideology is the right one, without addressing the fact that all ideologies are machines for oversimplifying the world.
To be clear, I am not doing some kind of fair and balanced shtick here. I don’t think all ideologies are equal. I think mine is the right one, obviously. But I do think it’s possible to say that all ideologies are — albeit to differing extents — limiting oversimplifications, universal rules that are derived from one set of circumstances that we then adapt to fit all circumstances, with varying success. Gandhi was a pacifist, to use that often cited example, who also recognized that pacifism worked in the time and place it did because of the time and place it worked in. Had the British empire been willing and able to simply kill every Indian that stepped out of line, pacifism would have been a dead letter, and he understood that [a commenter quibbles usefully with this reading]. If Gandhi was in Benghazi, I don’t know what he would do, but I suspect he would have been flexible enough to judge the situation on its own terms, rather than impose the terms and principles from another context onto it and expect reality to conform. We should do the same. We should learn from the experience of the Iraq war, but we shouldn’t make the mistake of thinking that this is the Iraq war.
So that’s my not-so-little prelude to my ambivalence about the Libyan “intervention.” I’m not saying I haven’t fallen into these traps. Of course I have. I’m trying not to, but that’s the thing about structural incentives: you can push against the wind if you know it’s there, but that doesn’t stop it from pushing against you.
II.
For me, the fact that Gaddafi is a fucking cancer is actually really important. People like Richard Seymour are perfectly right to point out that the media and political types who are vilifying him are bad people doing it for bad reasons, just as they do every single time when one of our pet dictators goes rogue. But he’s wrong if he thinks there isn‘t truth to it, or that Gaddafi’s actual villainous-ness is of negligible importance. If you are opposed to imperialism in Africa — and I’m going to assume that you are — then it is important to understand that one of the most successful and murderous continent level “military interventionists” has been Gaddafi, and it has continued up to the present.
There’s a dangerous narcissism in imagining the West has a monopoly on things like imperialism, and that kind of solipsism is often particularly tempting and satisfying to even those in the West that think bad things about “the West”: it allows us to maintain the belief that the West is still the center of the universe, even if it’s now the Devil rather than God. But being opposed to the devil we know doesn’t change the fact that there actually are other devils. And a legacy of anti-colonial thinking has left a lot of leftists unable to understand that being the enemy of our enemy doesn’t make someone our friend. Just because the great powers of The West are imperialist in some sense doesn’t mean that those who oppose them in some sense — people like Gaddafi, Chavez, Mugabe, or Ahmadinejad — actually are anti-imperialist.
This point is worth emphasizing: it has been a long time since words like “sovereignty” and “anti-imperialism” have become reliable tools in the arsenal of third-world dictators defending their international right to oppress and exploit their people. After all, what does “sovereignty” mean other than the international community’s decision to grant one person the legitimate right to rule over a space of geography? Certainly it wasn’t the Libyan people who invested Gaddafi with their hopes and dreams. Gaddafi has no legitimacy by any standard I recognize; he took power in a coup and has kept it by killing and imprisoning everyone who might conceivably oppose him. And while it certainly isn’t clear that the Libyan rebels represent the legitimate democratic will either — though depending on how you define and measure those things, they sure have a hell of a stronger case — it is ridiculous to call an attack on Gaddafi’s military an attack on a “sovereign nation,” or on “Libya” itself, as so many have. Whether this is a conscious argument or just a lazy usage, this is how Gaddafi wants you to see the situation, because it causes you to forget that he’s just the guy with the most thugs, guns, and a (metaphorical) piece of paper signed by the UN saying “We hereby officially pretend that Gaddafi represents the popular will of the Libyan people.” This doesn’t make the intervention right, you understand, but it means you have to look for better arguments against it than “sovereignty.”
You’ve probably heard a good deal about what a vicious despot Gaddafi is, so I won’t repeat it. But you’ve probably heard less about what Gaddafi means in Africa. Gaddafi is not just any dictator; he’s got a combination of continent-wide ambition and deep pockets filled with oil, and he has used that oil money to train, arm, and finance all manner of rebels in some of the bloodiest conflicts across the continent, not for a handful of years, but for over four decades. This is not an invention of the people who are now bombing him. He might use words like “sovereignty” and “Marxism” and “anti-Americanism” when he needs to (and drop them the moment some other position — like a close alliance with the United States — is more useful), but his method has basically been consistent since the seventies: use his money to buy personal influence, with anyone he can, as a route to some kind of regional dominance. And the result has been devastating.
Take Charles Taylor, for example: Taylor may not have invented the child soldier as a technology of warfare, but no one used that method as effectively and as ruthlessly as him, and his scorched-earth campaigns in the West African diamond fields remain the gold standard with which any aspiring committer of atrocities will need to reckon. Taylor trained in Libya in the late 1980’s, Gaddafi’s oil money made his insurgency in Liberia possible, and Gaddafi was an important backer of the RUF guerrilla campaign in Sierra Leone. And even though Taylor was sort of uniquely awful, my point is simply that he’s not unique in this sense: he’s just one of the many examples of what Gaddafi does and has done with his oil money. Unlike the cliché of the African dictator, wallowing in mindless excess and consumption, Gaddafi not only believed in his “revolution” and tried to export it everywhere he could, but he sent money, training, and support to some of the most destructive people on the continent in pursuit of that goal. As a result, he continues to have very close ties and alliances with all sorts of basically illegitimate African heads of state, people like Robert Mugabe, Yoweri Museveni, Omar al-Bashir, Blaise Compaoré, and Idriss Déby.
The point is not to say that Gaddafi is any worse than the US in this regard, because he’s actually very similar: the “cold war” was a very hot war in Africa, because we had no compunction about sending money and weapons to people that we thought we could use — Mujahedeen style — to destabilize the regimes we wanted to destabilize, for the purpose of the moment, and to hell with the consequences. Mozambique’s decades of civil war was one the results of our fear that communism might spread and imperil our allies in Apartheid South Africa. But Gaddafi is not only playing the same game, he is, quite frankly, really good at it, at least at the regional level. His people actually end up in positions of power, which is one of the reasons why the African Union is acting the way they are.
The fact that Yoweri Museveni, for example, is on the AU’s “High-Level Ad Hoc Committee On Libya” is one clear reason why the AU has been opposed to the UN’s actions in Libya. As opposition figures in Uganda are pointing out, Museveni wrote this piece in Foreign Policy to try to walk the fine line between distancing himself from Gaddafi while not being able to deny their very well-known friendship, and the piece’s otherwise bizarre contradictions and double-speak make a whole lot more sense if you read it with that in mind. Some version of that is going on with many of those people, they may not have the kind of close relationship with Gaddafi that Museveni has, but just about every head of state in the Sahel (and many outside of it) have some kind of past entanglement with Libyan money.
As Alex de Waal summarizes:
…[Gaddafi’s] Africa policy was pursued by through the instruments of monetary patronage and ideological solidarity, strictly on the basis of personal relations with counterparts. Gaddafi has been erratic and mischievous, misusing Libya’s financial clout to act as the biggest buyer in a regional political marketplace. Between eleven and seventeen African countries—to be precise, African heads of state—have benefited from his largesse. Many rebel groups, especially in neighbouring countries, have also been the recipients of extraordinary Libyan giving sprees. Not only Gaddafi but his lieutenants possess large reserves of money and enormous stores of weaponry.
Gaddafi’s long history of personalizing his interventions in a variety of African contexts is the reason, for example, that de Waal is particularly concerned that Gaddafi is now passing out AK-47’s to anyone in Libya that wants them, which almost certainly includes people who will use them in other parts of the region. As he puts it:
Much of Libya is now ungoverned. That is particularly true of southern Libya. There has been little attention to the towns of the south, such as Sebha and Kufra, with no international correspondents there. These places are matters of great concern to neighbouring governments such as Niger, Chad and Sudan, because these towns have served as the rear base for armed rebellions in their countries, and rebel leaders still reside there. Gaddafi’s opening of the Libyan arsenals to anyone ready to fight for the regime, and the collapse of authority in other places, means that such rebels have been able to acquire arms and vehicles with ease. The Sudanese defence minister visited N’djamena last week to discuss the threat.
Reporters on the coast have spoken about African mercenaries serving in the pro-Gaddafi forces, mentioning countries of origin such as Chad, Burkina Faso and Mauritania. There are also rumours that Darfurians, including members of rebel factions based in Libya, are fighting in Libya. The deal is reportedly simple: take whatever arms you can handle, and fight for me, and then those weapons and vehicles are yours for whatever use you see fit. Mercenaries, freebooters and rebels from across the Sahel, and even beyond, are heading for Libya to take advantage of this open-entry, take all you can arms bonanza.
I spoke with one African military officer who welcomed the NATO action in Libya, saying “nothing could be worse than Gaddafi.” I suggested that he wait and see.
I’m just waiting to see like everyone else. But as I do, I think it’s true that the more you focus on what a cancer Gaddafi is, has been, and will be if he stays in power, the more you’re likely to see the upside of UN intervention into Libya. And the inverse of that — and here, now, I’m talking about all the people who don’t know anything about Libya and yet have strong and righteous opinions about what is happening there — the less you know about Libya, Gaddafi, and Gaddafi’s past and present in regional and continental politics, the less you will be able to see that upside. You won’t know what you‘re missing, of course; ignorance about Africa is more than sanctioned. It’s practically required. But it will still be there, unseen.
This is, of course, the usual thing where an area-studies-type-person argues that area-studies-type-knowledge is really important. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong. You will always see things through the interpretive matrix of your own beliefs and priorities, and that‘s just as true for people for whom the African context is almost totally missing. If you are — like me — primarily concerned with African politics, that matrix which cause you to see things a bit differently than if you are approaching it through the lens of Palestine and the broader “Arab Spring” movement, or from a total opposition to all “humanitarian military interventions.” Juan Cole has argued that the Libyan intervention is not the same as the invasion of Iraq, and he’s right, but there, too, I think, you can see the particular formulation of the question and problem he‘s using: when and where can a dictator be taken out?
For me, the issue is this: I am hoping that the outcome of the intervention will be better than the almost certain and massive and immanent bloodbath we were looking at a few days ago, and that Libyans will be as lucky as we are, and be ruled by corrupt neoliberal apparatchiks, instead of by secret police. The “intervention” into Libya is nothing that anyone should paper over through euphemism, nor should we underestimate the human cost it’s already having; if you’re going to drop enough bombs on a country to have any significant impact on a military conflict, there are going to be significant civilian casualties. But not intervening does not mean there won’t be civilian casualties, it just means our hands won’t be dirty with the killing, and we’ll get to be ignorant that they’re even happening. Tanks and starvation kill people much more effectively than air strikes, and both African history and Gaddafi’s past are full of demonstrations that cheap warfare can be massively more scalable and therefore massively more deadly than firing cruise missiles at $2 million a pop. And an organized secret police infrastructure that relies on intimidation, torture, and disappearances is a lot scarier to me than the kind of relatively limited bombing campaign that this is going to be.
In this sense, while I do understand that a UN intervention could very well end up in a giant humanitarian catastrophe, for all sorts of reasons that you don’t need me to point out, I come back to the fact that a Gaddafi victory would be unthinkably awful, and that because the UN intervention has prevented it, at least for now, it is impossible for me to condemn or regret it. To the extent that I have a “position,” this is what it is.
III.
This is, of course, an ideologically shaped position, and like the rest of us — ideologically fallen, every one — I happen to think my own blindness is the right one. I think it would be fair to say, however, that the majority of the bloggers and columnists and commenters I’ve been reading do not share this assessment, though. And while I wouldn’t say that people’s experience of the last ten years of American war have clouded their judgment (or at least not any more than my own experiences have “clouded“ mine), I do think we need to be much more aware of what defining our politics by that experience prevents us from seeing. Only the people of Sierra Leone seem to remember the British humanitarian military intervention in 2000. And anyway, if we see only Iraq in ‘03 or Rwanda in ‘94, we do not see Libya in ‘11. Important things drop out of the picture. You may ultimately decide that the things the NFZ has accomplished don’t justify the means, but you’re not being intellectually honest if you don’t factor them in.
And of course, in many ways, it’s really all to the good that when we think about Libya, we think about Iraq. I think that’s a knee that’s jerking in exactly the way it should: Obama’s foreign policy is not quite the same as Bush’s, but both of their strategic policies are basically amoral and destructive, imho. And the fact that Democrats make war differently doesn‘t make them any less destructive. See under “War in Afghanistan, Obama’s expansion of.” It’s a good thing if the US is getting less trigger happy about military expeditions, if indeed it is.
I strongly suspect, in fact, that part of the White House’s subterranean thinking here has got to be the hope that Libya could provide us with a “good war,” and thereby a means of rehabilitating the doctrine of “humanitarian military intervention,” of sanitizing and legitimizing the “Responsibility to Protect.” This is only part of it, of course; the administration was also surely afraid of what Dennis Ross called “Srebrenica on steroids” and they were fearful that they were facing “the real or imminent possibility that up to a 100,000 people could be massacred, and everyone would blame us for it.” And to the kind of mind that thinks in terms of “surgical strikes” and “humanitarian military interventions,” Libya presents a really attractive prospect: a diplomatically isolated and utterly villainous regime, easily accessible via fleets in the Mediterranean, and a whole bunch of shiny cruise missiles that we would love and opportunity to use. We should also never forget that military industrial complexes will find ways to rationalize war, especially when they think it’s going to be without significant political cost. And the administration has been nervous, for months, watching the crazy people-power thing happening in North Africa and the Middle East, over which they have had no control or insight. And since Al Jazeera has made sure everyone in the MENA is paying attention to what is happening in Libya, there has been a mounting pressure on the White House to “do something.” Finally, above all, the prospect of Libya “falling into chaos” is something they’re really scared of; totalitarian repression is something they could live with, and cut deals with. Chaos in the oil fields — and in a country so close to Europe — is something they’re really scared of. So they did “something.”
But their decision making process is not what interests me. I don’t share their values, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had any hope that Obama would be anything other than a moderate Republican president, wholly captured by finance capital, and with a distinct hawkish streak. Contra Leon Wieseltier, there is no “honor” to be had in blowing up military equipment that you sold to Gaddafi, even if it were possible not to kill human beings along with it, which it is not. They are doing this for their reasons, and they are not honorable reasons.
But the reasons they’ve had for entering this war are not the reasons I still have some optimism that the results of this intervention will turn out to be better than the results of not intervening would have been. In that sense, I agree almost completely with Gilbert Achcar’s measured quasi-endorsement of the no-fly-zone resolution, which he explains here:
…there are not enough safeguards in the wording of the resolution to bar its use for imperialist purposes. Although the purpose of any action is supposed to be the protection of civilians, and not “regime change,” the determination of whether an action meets this purpose or not is left up to the intervening powers and not to the uprising, or even the Security Council. The resolution is amazingly confused. But given the urgency of preventing the massacre that would have inevitably resulted from an assault on Benghazi by Gaddafi’s forces, and the absence of any alternative means of achieving the protection goal, no one can reasonably oppose it. One can understand the abstentions; some of the five states who abstained in the UNSC vote wanted to express their defiance and/or unhappiness with the lack of adequate oversight, but without taking the responsibility for an impending massacre.
The Western response, of course, smacks of oil. The West fears a long drawn out conflict. If there is a major massacre, they would have to impose an embargo on Libyan oil, thus keeping oil prices at a high level at a time when, given the current state of the global economy, this would have major adverse consequences. Some countries, including the United States, acted reluctantly. Only France emerged as very much in favor of strong action, which might well be connected to the fact that France — unlike Germany (which abstained in the UNSC vote), Britain, and, above all, Italy — does not have a major stake in Libyan oil, and certainly hopes to get a greater share post-Gaddafi.
We all know about the Western powers’ pretexts and double standards. For example, their alleged concern about harm to civilians bombarded from the air did not seem to apply in Gaza in 2008-09, when hundreds of noncombatants were being killed by Israeli warplanes in furtherance of an illegal occupation. Or the fact that the US allows its client regime in Bahrain, where it has a major naval base, to violently repress the local uprising, with the help of other regional vassals of Washington.
The fact remains, nevertheless, that if Gaddafi were permitted to continue his military offensive and take Benghazi, there would be a major massacre. Here is a case where a population is truly in danger, and where there is no plausible alternative that could protect it. The attack by Gaddafi’s forces was hours or at most days away. You can’t in the name of anti-imperialist principles oppose an action that will prevent the massacre of civilians. In the same way, even though we know well the nature and double standards of cops in the bourgeois state, you can’t in the name of anti-capitalist principles blame anybody for calling them when someone is on the point of being raped and there is no alternative way of stopping the rapists.
This said, without coming out against the no-fly zone, we must express defiance and advocate full vigilance in monitoring the actions of those states carrying it out, to make sure that they don’t go beyond protecting civilians as mandated by the UNSC resolution. In watching on TV the crowds in Benghazi cheering the passage of the resolution, I saw a big billboard in their middle that said in Arabic “No to foreign intervention.” People there make a distinction between “foreign intervention” by which they mean troops on the ground, and a protective no-fly zone. They oppose foreign troops. They are aware of the dangers and wisely don’t trust Western powers.
So, to sum up, I believe that from an anti-imperialist perspective one cannot and should not oppose the no-fly zone, given that there is no plausible alternative for protecting the endangered population. The Egyptians are reported to be providing weapons to the Libyan opposition — and that’s fine — but on its own it couldn’t have made a difference that would have saved Benghazi in time. But again, one must maintain a very critical attitude toward what the Western powers might do.
I’ve quoted Achcar at length because I think he’s right. And he thinks he puts his fingers on the reason why, here, we are seeing a fairly unique situation where it is in the interest of the “Great Powers” to see that as little blood is shed as possible. If Gaddafi makes the streets run with blood in retaking the country, as he has promised to do, and as he would need to do to retake the country, then the flow of oil would become unreliable. And while the entire point of the bombing campaign in Iraq was maximum damage — “Shock and Awe” — this particular campaign will never be anything like the clean war they’d like to pretend it is, but to act like it’s going to be Baghdad 2003 is ridiculous. They are primarily targeting the tanks and artillery that are currently killing civilians. I find it hard to mourn the tanks whose guns have gone silent.
In other words, the number of people who are being and will be killed by Gaddafi’s tanks, artillery, snipers, and torture chambers seem to me to be, simply, on another scale: tanks shelling cities and starving them to death actually kill people a lot more effectively than do cruise missiles. And while NATO has an incentive to keep the body count low, it’s Gaddafi for whom “Shock and Awe” serves a function. This point is worth emphasizing and re-emphasizing: if Gaddafi stays in power, he will have absolutely not one single reasons to be anything but at least as brutal as he was in the bad old days. The last ten years have been a period of relative “restraint” — atrocities were committed quietly, and there were a few openings here and there — because he thought he had something to gain from “restraint,” and he was right: the country has partially opened up to western capital, and the US found in him a valued ally in the war on terror, and cut deals with him. The fact that he was able to get weapons, diplomatic respect, and rehabilitate his international image made violent repression less useful to him. He would never have committed atrocities like he did in 1996 while he thought he had something to gain from “restraint.”
He no longer has that incentive, in any way. He has no allies. He has no defenders. He has no international reputation. The only thing he does have is the military force he acquired as a Soviet and then American client, a secret police infrastructure, and a lifetime’s practice in using them. The only way he will stay in power now is through massive and indiscriminate violence and repression: he has promised to “come inch by inch, home by home, alley by alley,” and he has promised the rebels, who he calls “cockroaches,” that “we will find you in your closets. We will have no mercy and no pity.” I believe that he will “cleanse Libya house by house” if he can. I think he will do absolutely that if he stays in power and so that remains my biggest fear.
I could, of course, be wrong about this. Any one of us could be. But at this point, the best case scenario is that the UN intervention will turn out to have been chemo-therapy: poisonous and awful, but still better than the alternative. It’s because we know what cancer is that aggressive chemo-therapy — also one of the worst things there is — turns out to be the less horrible alternative. Almost any outcome is better than dead. By the same token, it’s because we also know what Gaddafi is that the same thing might be true here. The worst case scenario was the one where Gaddafi fulfilled his promise and took over the country house by house, a scenario that seemed a virtual certainty the day before the NFZ was imposed. And as likely as it is that the UN will fuck this up, in other words, Gaddafi was a dead certainty. And so it still seems right to me to celebrate that uncertainty.
Yes, Qaddafi is “a fucking cancer.” And by any measure, he’s an amateur compared to the United States, Britain and France. America in the last decade alone has piled up more corpses than a hundred Qaddafis.
Was Iraq a humanitarian intervention? Was Afghanistan? Are the drone strikes in Pakistan and Yemen motivated by altruism? And if they were, would the corpses they produce be any less dead?
Every “humanitarian” motive offered for war in the past, from the “civilizing and Christianizing” used to justify the massacre of Native Americans to the “responsibility to protect” rhetoric of the present day, has proven to be little more than a fig leaf for imperialism and colonialism. Militaries are tools designed to kill and destroy – that’s what they’re good at. Pretending that cruise missiles can be used to “protect lives” is the height of self-delusion. In the meantime, the most effective engine of death in the history of the planet is inviting itself into another oil-rich patch of the Middle East, dropping bombs and spraying bullets as it goes, and gullible liberals are applauding, once again.
Very little of your rhetoric addresses what I actually said. I explicitly said in the post that I think the WH’s motivations are *not* altruistic, but if you need to hear me say it again, let me say it again: it is not. And if you think that I’m defending drones, the wars in Afghanistan, or virtually any other of the US’ wars, I’ll invite you to show me where I did so. You also imply that we didn’t have access to oil before; we did, that’s the point. The US and Gaddafi have gotten along real well for about a decade.
By the way, you put quotation marks around the phrase “protect lives.” I never used that phrase. Which is a nice illustration of the fact that it’s not me you’re actually talking to.
A thoughtful and stimulating piece.
Many decades ago when I got to college and was toying with the idea of joining one of the Leninist sects that patrolled campus, it was explained to me by members of one of them how they had political differences with several of the world’s liberation movements (this was the late 1970s, there were many of them and I don’t remember which was the subject), so they wouldn’t politically support them, they would only offer military support. In my youthful mind I imagined a brigade of young American students serving as the auxiliary on some far-off African or Latin American battlefield before I realized it was just an absurd formulation of self-importance. These leftists had no actual intention nor ability to direct any real energy or force that might make a difference in any conflict other than the war of ideas. And so I’m respectful of your own sense of perspective, which seems in turn quite respectful. And while I’ve been known to find useful ideas for my own life in the throw of a hand of tarot cards, we have, indeed, no idea how this is going to unfold.
That said, I think you’ve led yourself to an overall mistake.
I heard a Libyan woman interviewed on the radio. She didn’t care who won, she just wanted her kids to be safe, and she wanted her life to be back to normal. It was an entirely sensible and sympathetic point of view. She was worried about a young adult relative (son or brother I don’t remember) who had been detained by pro-Qaddafi forces. Mostly you could hear fear and frustration in her voice. Most people are neither heroic revolutionaries nor active stooges of their own repressive state. Most people just want to live their lives. And I think of that majority of people watching what’s happened to their country with missiles dropping down in their midst from distant machines, or invisible bombers, and I think how dare anyone inflict that on those people. How awful it would be to be in that position,
How dare those in Washington and Paris think they have the right to do what they’re doing. It’s the worst kind of arrogance and presumption, and it’s absolutely no better than the historical mindset of colonialism and imperialism. It’s no better than the mentality of merchants poring over maps of West Africa trying to figure out where to get the best slaves for the cheapest cost.
And this is relevant because Obama and the Europeans don’t actually give a shit about the Libyan people and whether or not they live or die or whether their lives return to normal. That’s the big lie of the situation. This is revealed by Bahrain, by Sri Lanka, or by Palestine. It’s not about what they say it is.
This is about Europe and America using the Libyans as props for their own purposes. And as people living in America, well we might not be all about forming ourselves into solidarity brigades to travel to distant battlefields, we can do our best to speak out against and possibly stop what our votes and taxes are writing large on the world stage.
I’m interested in Libya but I have no right to much of an opinion about what should happen there. But as an American I have the moral duty to raise my voice as loud as I can against the lies and the bombs and the missiles being thrown about by “our” government.
It’s not satisfying for us here, but Libya really will have to be solved by Libyans. It’s an illusion, I think, that some good might come of the intervention. Even if Qaddafi is ousted and the loss of life is low, and the replacement government proves to be less toxic than the current one, who will be bearing the future price of an imperialism emboldened by this action? If Obama succeeds, as you’ve noted, in rehabilitating the idea of intervention here, what will be the terrible cost later on somewhere else?
Ish,
I would say several things (after thanking you for disagreeing with me in a civil and thoughtful manner). Your characterization here of:
“…missiles dropping down in their midst from distant machines, or invisible bombers, and I think how dare anyone inflict that on those people. How awful it would be to be in that position,”
is precisely why I disagree with you; if the UN *were* targeting civilian populations — if they were really bombing in the “midst” of people — then, and to that extent, I would be completely against it. What I find hard to condemn is the thing they say they are doing (and to my mind, have all the incentive in the world to constrain themselves to doing): bombing the tanks and artillery that are shelling civilian populations. If that’s the case — and I’m as dependent on the media as you are, so I don’t really know — then it’s a very different thing than what you’ve described. Dropping bombs in the midst of civilians is very different from dropping bombs on the tanks who are shelling into the midst of civilians.
Mostly, though, our most useful disagreement is in your last paragraph: you say that “Libya really will have to be solved by Libyans,” and I would say that the revolution was about to be brutally crushed, and had no reasonable chance of “solving” anything. It would have been ideal if they could have won the revolution themselves, but that didn’t happen: the fact that it was a peaceful revolution (rather than a military coup) is precisely why they were not able to make much headway when Gaddafi started using tanks and helicopters against them. Peaceful protesters cannot win against tanks/artillery/snipers who are unconstrained in their use of force, and to an extent unique in the region’s protest movements, this was the case in Libya. That really has to be emphasized: the government in Yemen and Bahrain and other places have used significant force against peaceful protesters, but Libya’s was on a massively much greater scale, and that makes a big difference.
On the other hand, I have no real answer for your last set of questions; it is a worrisome prospect, and I don’t think an answer is possible. But, for one thing, to the extent that a precedent has been set, it is for US intervention, the sort of thing which makes unilateral military invasions more difficult, if anything. For another, I don’t think people like George W Bush ever needed a precedent, or even a “rehabilitated” idea of intervention. And for me, the here-and-now of Libya, March 2011, has to take precedence over the completely plausible, but still hypothetical scenario you’re imagining where some future intervention occurs. In other words, I certainly hear and share your concern there, but I come down on the side of the people we know (beyond a reasonable doubt) were about to pay the price of inaction, rather than the people we only hypothesize about.
Yes, but the rebels aren’t looking too good either:
http://www.maxajl.com/?p=5010
http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/world/la-fg-libya-prisoners-20110324,0,5238438.story
http://www.newstimes.com/news/article/Rebel-Libyan-finance-minister-admits-mistakes-1277631.php
your piece is really good, but right now, I’m worried about what’s gonna happen if Qaddaffi’s ousted.
There are plenty of good reasons to be worried about the rebels — and just being against Gaddafi doesn’t make them worthy of support — but it’s worth remembering that the idea of “humanitarian intervention” isn’t supposed to be about supporting one or another group, but just about preventing them from being massacred (which you don’t need to be of the right ideology to qualify for). I also am strongly of the opinion that a US-friendly, technocratic, and neoliberal Libyan government would, most likely, still be a thousand times better than the one they’ve got now, were my opinion on the matter relevant.
There are also, by the way, plenty of bad reasons to be against the rebels, and it’s been disappointing to see how many of them are getting play out there. Juan Cole destroys some of them here, and is worth reading, though he might be a bit more sanguine about the intervention than I am.
“but it’s worth remembering that the idea of “humanitarian intervention” isn’t supposed to be about supporting one or another group, but just about preventing them from being massacred”
But this is not, in fact, a humanitarian intervention. It is, by all appearances, a war to depose Qaddafi and replace him with another regime, one which Western powers suspect will be more responsive to their own narrow interests. And you have not demonstrated at all that “a US-friendly, technocratic, and neoliberal Libyan government would, most likely, still be a thousand times better than the one they’ve got now.” The history of Western power relations offers no evidence that Western-friendly governments are less likely to murder and oppress their people than governments opposed to the American empire; quite the contrary, in fact, as state violence is inevitably necessary to keep the population in line with unpopular policies dictated by the West.
This has to be some of the best writing I’ve read on the topic. While I completely agree with the overall sentiment expressed here, I want to take issue with one thing you said and add to another.
First, there is in fact a practical purpose to this debate as it is being conducted online. Of course we cannot influence the action currently taking place. But we can try to make sense of it, critically and actively, as opposed to passively having a particular version of events forced down our throats. Publicly taking a position on this issue is not simply an exercise in ideological conformity one way or the other, but rather a contribution to a deliberative space which doesn’t, for the most part, exist in the mass media (at least not authentically – compare the sad spectacle of talk-back radio). And this space is growing in importance and influence. It’s not merely a matter of shaping how people think about humanitarian or military intervention in the future. More importantly, it may well influence how people go about considering such matters: whether they are prepared to take responsibility for what they think by participating in a (more or less) rational conversation, or whether their opinions and values will continue to be spoon-fed to them by the corporate mass media.
Second, Seymour has no illusions about the depravity of the Gaddafi regime. This becomes clear if you read his responses to various comments. But I don’t think it’s ever been the subject of a post or column he’s written, because that would make it awfully difficult to maintain the party line. The anti-interventionist left, which is not limited to unreformed Marxists but includes even liberal voices like Glenn Greenwald, is obsessed with *our* (qua rich Westerners) moral failings. I think this obsession makes them believe that it impossible for us to express solidarity with others unless it is by denouncing the West as the root cause of evil in the world. That attitude, inevitably, makes for uncomfortable bed-fellows. It also makes it impossible to support any kind of intervention that might be seen as contaminating the purity of an anti-Western resistance movement.
On your first point, I agree, but I think there are other ways to take positions than to say “I take a position.” I suppose its the posture absent the argumentative substance that pisses me off the most. In fact, while my position is not *quite* that that “there is great disorder under heaven and the situation is excellent,” I do think arguing against the “good or bad, yes or no” formulation has a purpose and a use. But I do take your point; it’s a fine line I’m trying to walk there.
As for Seymour, you’re right: he’s not ignorant, except to the extent that his argument requires him to be. He’s a smart and informed guy. I read him and benefit from doing so, which is exactly why it’s so disturbing to see him submerge certain things he “knows,” excluding them from the picture he’s painting so that it can be the picture he wants it to be.
His column on the anti-“African” roundups that may or may not be going on, for example, is really strange, for example: he strongly implies that the UN intervention has made the revolution more racist (“Now this racism has fused with the revolution in the most dangerous, ominous way.”) but not only does he have no more than speculation that this is what he imagines is happening, he downplays the fact that these anti-“African” sentiments were expressed from the get-go. In fact, it’s precisely *because* he knows better that he has almost nothing to say at all in that piece; the argument, such as it is, is that because the intervention helps the “official” rebel leadership, and that leadership lacked coherence and popular legitimacy, and so needed to turn to racism to unite the public, then, in that sense, the UN intervention strengthens racial antagonism. The fact that he has no evidence (nor even acknowledges the burden to prove) that the leadership types are behind those pogroms (rather than it simply being what it seems to be, the demonizing of a common enemy that comes from below) is a disappointing abdication of intellectual responsibility, albeit one that meshes nicely with his ideological predispositions.
I say all this not to beat up on him too much — it’s just a blog post, after all — but just to demonstrate the way he’s doing what I started out my post talking about: having taken a position (adopted a party line, as you say) he seems to have lost some of the ability to reckon or acknowledge with facts that don’t support it.
[…] a great deal by people who know much better than me what they’re talking about, most notably Aaron Bady (a specialist in Africa) and Juan Cole (a specialist in the Middle East). Bady is probably right […]
Also, why are you dragging Chavez into the group?
He’s the one that drags himself into that group:
http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/ap/latinamerica/7492829.html
That said, I wasn’t so much making a positive claim (i.e. I wasn’t saying “Chavez is an imperialist/dictator, etc”); I was just arguing *against* the sense that calling any of those people “anti-imperialist” means very much, that being at odds with the US doesn’t thereby put you on the side of the forces of democracy (as demonstrated, quite concretely, by Chavez’s support for dictators). In other words, my point would be that we have to judge the members of that group in terms of what they actually do, not how they position themselves vis-a-vis the US hegemon; anti-imperialism is a mystifying term in this context, which makes it easy to overlook the broadly anti-democratic effects that those kinds of alliances can have.
Ah, I see. That’s why I’ve always preferred Evo,he’s more neutral/ anti imperialist on this stuff.
Thank you very much for this excellent analysis. You’re right, too many people are over-simplifying what is a complex, confusing and chaotic situation. We need to go deeper and try to understand the complexities.
There is quite a lot wrong here.
First of all, for someone with no position, you spend quite a lot of time here squaring yourself with imperial doctrine and bashing those who don’t. But then, you finally do admit after so many many words, that yes, you support it. It even seems you’re leaning toward support for US-led regime change or am I misreading you?
Also, the implication that there is no point in taking a position on something you can never/no longer influence is false on its face. Does that really require proof or did you mean something else?
Finally, it is only narcissistic to imagine the West “has a monopoly on things like imperialism” if you identify in some weird way with your government or your military to the exclusion everything else. Y’know like people who say ‘We’, when what they mean is the Government, or the West. Actually, for Americans, it’s far more narcissistic to twist oneself in knots giving American imperialism the benefit of the doubt, since the less you identify with the US, the more likely you are to simply judge it by its motives and its results RATHER than, say, equating the nickel-and-dime imperialism of Qadaffi with hegemony.
You got to push it-this estinseal info that is!
[…] This essay says lots of sensible things, starting with: Though I have lots of opinions, I am trying very hard […]
It doesn’t effect the rest of your post, but I think your interpretation of what Gandhi was saying is flawed.
You’re right that Gandhi would find violence the least-bad option in many cases. But it wasn’t a matter of whether or when pacifism “worked”–Gandhi was not a consequentialist. It was a matter of whether it was meaningful. If the only reason you adopt nonviolence is because you’re afraid of the consequences of violence, then, as I understand it, Gandhi would call that cowardice and advise you to take up arms instead. Gandhi only approved of sincere nonviolence–nonviolence motivated by love.
Thanks for your reasoned arguments. Your contextualizing about Qaddafi’s influence on African politics has led me to reconsider the value of the bombing campaign. But–there’s always a but–you didn’t address the potential down sides of the foreign intervention. What happens if the the intervention cannot dislodge Qaddafi from power? I’m neither a military expert nor an Africanist; I don’t know how likely that is. Would failure lead to a Libyan civil war, to the house-by-house slaughter that you think we are preventing, to decades-long destabilization of the region, to the proliferation of terrorist cells, to the long-term occupation of Libya by some foreign entity, to less attention, more deaths, and fewer reforms in Bahrain or Yemen, to holding hands and singing kumbaya? Some combinations of these outcomes would convince me that non-intervention was the preferred course. Also, what happens if we do drive out Qaddafi?
Celebrate the uncertainty, but can we try to pin down the known unknowns? The avoidance of short-term slaughter must be weighed against the potential long-term consequences of intervention, both good and bad. I haven’t seen any experts lay out the various possible scenarios and their likelihoods. That’s the information I personally would need to draw a conclusion about the decision to intervene.
[…] Aaron Bady on both Libya and talking about Libya. The first part, about the work commenting and having an opinion on Libya does in the public sphere […]
“villainous-ness” What’s wrong with villainy?
I’ll just leave this here:
http://www.maxajl.com/?p=5109
It’ been almost 4 mothns of the Libyan Uprise and we are already witnessing the people of Libya manufacturing their own weapons. Engineers are also putting their brains to work in the creation of more sophisticated weapons.I think is a good choice if you are smart enough to design and build your own weapons.Don’t forget to charge your country a big fee for this. Watch the NTC handling of money. You people are saving money and fighting for the country.
[…] on Libya, Waiting to See for Aaron Bady’s full […]
[…] on Libya, Waiting to See for Aaron Bady’s full comment. Click on An Open Letter to the Left on Libya for Juan […]
A different point of view, I think about the value of nuance…
I don’t think engaging with the narcissic left(right, too) offers much value. They aren’t going to read the piece, and even if they do, they’ll have exactly the same attitude of stras, who babbles the talking point, regardless of the topic.
I think it is best to dismiss them as trolls (unserious, silly, if you want a mild power-trip). I, myself, call them copperheads, after the opportunistic (and self-focused ideologically minded) movement during the US Civil War. We’ve always had people with a very blinkered (focused on personal interest) love of disengagement. We shouldn’t suffer their rhetoric and should moderate them on just how topical and contextual their words are. If you disagree, check out a random, unmoderated I-P thread.
Hands down the most useful piece I’ve read or heard on the subject of the Libyan intervention. Many thanks to Aaron for working it out so skillfully and presenting it with such clarity.
[…] we brainwash our opponents and save the slaughter for people who don’t hold G8 passports. He spent 5,500 words gnawing on the reasons why the left might oppose intervention; the only one he doesn’t […]
[…] Aaron Bady […]