Sep 2, 2009

Taliban Surprising U.S. Forces With Improved Tactics - washingtonpost.com

By Karen DeYoung
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, September 2, 2009

The Taliban has become a much more potent adversary in Afghanistan by improving its own tactics and finding gaps in the U.S. military playbook, according to senior American military officials who acknowledged that the enemy's resurgence this year has taken them by surprise.

U.S. rules of engagement restricting the use of air power and aggressive action against civilians have also opened new space for the insurgents, officials said. Western development projects, such as new roads, schools and police stations, have provided fresh targets for Taliban roadside bombs and suicide attacks. The inability of rising numbers of American troops to protect Afghan citizens has increased resentment of the Western presence and the corrupt Afghan government that cooperates with it, the officials said.

As President Obama faces crucial decisions on his war strategy and declining public support at home, administration and defense officials are studying the reasons why the Taliban appears, for the moment at least, to be winning.

In the spring, Obama outlined a broad new direction for the war that he said his predecessor had starved of attention and resources. He changed the military leadership on the ground, asked Congress for additional money and authorized more manpower. The administration has said that it expects the strategy -- still barely off the ground -- to show results in a year to 18 months.

But many U.S. officials and their allies feel that they are in a race against time and the determination of a battle-hardened enemy that has learned from its own mistakes and those of U.S. and NATO forces over nearly eight years of combat. Gen. Stanley A. McChrystal, the new U.S. commander in Afghanistan, gave Obama an assessment this week of what he described as a "serious" situation.

"The point is that the Taliban, who have had a very clear aim and means from the very beginning, have been able slowly and steadily to get better at what they're doing," said a European official whose country's troops are fighting alongside U.S. forces. More U.S. and NATO troops have been killed in 2009 than in any year since the war began in late 2001; U.S. deaths in August reached an all-time monthly high of 47.

Although McChrystal's report has not been publicly released, officials said it calls for further significant strategic revisions. In the coming weeks, Obama will weigh the merits of McChrystal's recommendations and decide whether to provide whatever additional troops are necessary to implement them.

About a dozen military officials in Washington and at regional command headquarters here and abroad discussed Taliban capabilities and battlefield trends on the condition of anonymity. Most expressed optimism that with time the U.S. strategy could prevail, but said that the Taliban has gained psychological, as well as actual, ground.

"There are periods when an enemy does well and seems better trained and fights harder," one senior defense official said. "The number one indicator we have out there now is that they think they're winning. That creates an attitude, a positive outlook, and a willingness to sacrifice."

The positive outlook has a basis in fact, the official said, as areas of Taliban influence have expanded. "They have enough of the landscape that they control to be able to train more and in closer proximity to where they're fighting. And the people [living] there actually believe the Taliban can do something."

U.S. military officials differ on the extent of Taliban success and the reasons for it. Senior U.S. commanders in eastern Afghanistan, where insurgent leader Jalaluddin Haqqani's network is dominant, said that the sophistication of the insurgents' attacks had increased markedly, beginning with bloody battles along the Pakistani border last summer. To many of the Americans, it appeared as if the insurgents had attended something akin to the U.S. Army's Ranger school, which teaches soldiers how to fight in small groups in austere environments.

"In some cases . . . we started to see that enhanced form of attack," said one Army general who oversaw forces in Afghanistan until earlier in the summer. As attacks in the east have increased this year, some officers have speculated that the insurgents are getting more direct help from professional fighters from Arab and Central Asian countries. These embedded trainers, the officers said, play almost the same role as U.S. military training teams that live with and mentor Afghan government forces.

In recent months, the Taliban fighters have used mortars to force U.S. troops into defensive positions, where they are then hit with rocket-propelled grenades, rifles and machine guns. Insurgent units have learned to maintain "radio silence" as they move and to wet down the ground to prevent dusty recoil that would make them targets. They have "developed the ability to do some of the things that make up what you call a disciplined force," including treating casualties, the Army general said.

The insurgents have largely abandoned the large-unit attacks they used several years ago. "In 2005, Marines and Army units were having pretty decisive engagements" against massed Taliban fighters, another senior officer said, adding that "every time, we killed them in very large numbers." Small bases and checkpoints manned by Afghan national security forces have become preferred targets for the Taliban, he said, because they are "isolated and easy to kill," and the Afghan units are relatively easy to infiltrate for intelligence.

Remote areas where the Taliban has been fighting U.S. forces for years, such as the Korengal Valley near the border with Pakistan, "are a perfect lab to vet fighters and study U.S. tactics," said a Pentagon officer. The insurgents have learned to gauge the response times for U.S. artillery cannons, as well as fighter jets and helicopters. "They know exactly how long it takes before . . . they have to break contact and pull back," the officer said.

U.S. officers in southern Afghanistan, where thousands of Marines and British troops are fighting long-entrenched Taliban forces, attributed insurgent gains less to sophisticated tactics than to increased use of roadside bombs -- improvised explosive devices, or IEDs -- laid along U.S. convoy routes in the desert or roads built with foreign aid money.

"They do tend to play to the areas that they're strongest in, the hit-and-run tactics and the employment of IEDs," said Col. George Amland, deputy commander of the Marines in Helmand province.

The Taliban has also taken advantage of changes in U.S. air and artillery tactics, adopted to decrease civilian casualties that have alienated the population. U.S. airstrikes and culturally offensive night ground raids are authorized far more selectively than they were. The Taliban has also adjusted its own tactics, gathering in populated areas and increasing its night operations, and "the playing field is leveled," one U.S. officer said.

A number of officials and experts, within and outside the military, said that while the Taliban was able to regroup militarily while U.S. attention was diverted to Iraq, its widening influence has as much to do with Afghan government corruption, tensions among regional ethnic groups, lack of state service and justice in rural areas, and high rates of unemployment as it does with insurgent efforts.

Military officials expressed confidence in the evolving U.S. counterinsurgency strategy, but also concern about whether there is time to make it work. "I'm not one myself to believe it's a zero-sum game of winning and losing," said an official with long experience in Afghanistan.

"To the Taliban, winning is, in fact, not losing," he said. "They feel that over time, they will ultimately outlast the international community's attempt to stabilize Afghanistan. It's really a game of will to them."

Correspondents Pamela Constable, Rajiv Chandrasekaran, Joshua Partlow and Greg Jaffe in Afghanistan contributed to this report.

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Sep 1, 2009

Negros is ‘hot spot’ for human trafficking - Manila Times

A human trafficking awareness poster from the ...Image via Wikipedia

NGO launches Step UP campaign, a preventive program to curb problem among youth sector in province

By Ma. Ester L. Espina, Correspondent

Negros Occidental joins the list of provinces on the watch lists of groups working to fight human trafficking and worse, has become not just a source of persons being trafficked in various forms of human slavery, but as another “destination.”

Visayan Forum Foundation executive director, Ma. Cecilia Flores-Oebanda said that their rescue and monitoring operation has indicated that the problem has now been categorized as the third-largest underground business and a $30-million industry.

“This is not anymore a simple migration problem but we have been seeing more and more of these trafficked victims sold and resold many times over,” she added.

She said several residents hailing from Negros Occidental and Bacolod City have fallen victims to human trafficking “many of them ending up in the prostitution trade.”

Oebanda, a native of Negros and was formerly a rebel commander at the height of the insurgency said many of those they have rescued and interviewed come from the CHICKS area in southern Negros and from Banago in Bacolod.

“Worse, and the local government should know this, the province is not only a hotspot for source of trafficked persons but has become a destination,” citing that they have monitored night entertainment centers whose workers are mostly from other regions in the Visayas, said Oebanda.

Oebanda was in Bacolod recently for the launching of the STEP UP project that will be implemented locally by the Negros Ecological and Development Foundation (NEDF) in cooperation with Microsoft as a “preventive program” against human trafficking.

STEP UP, which means Stop Trafficking and Exploitation of People through Unlimited Potential, provides information technology and life skills to potential victims of human trafficking.

NEDF executive director, Roseo Depra, said they have established a STEP UP Learning Center in Barangay Handumanan which she said has been also cited as one of the major areas in Bacolod where recruiters would operate in to entice young boys and girls with hopes of employment in Manila and abroad but “unfortunately they end up in prostitution dens.”

For their first batch of STEP UP scholars, NEDF screened and chose 20 out-of-school youth residents in the area who will undergo a three-month program, which includes matching employment after graduation. In the next three years, Depra said they hope to see more than a thousand youth gainfully employed and helping in the anti-human trafficking advocacy work.

She recounted the tale of a 14-year-old girl from Samar who was recruited for domestic work in Manila but ended up in a prostitution den where she found 100 more girls like her in the flesh trade.

Oebanda said that while their early years focused mostly on rescue operations and legal cases against “head-hunters,” they have shifted direction toward prevention through a community-based program.

She acknowledged that the problem stems from economics and the promise of money which is why more and more of the younger set fall into the trap.

“We need to create a counter-move against this culture of deception and we hope that through STEP UP, we will be able to prevent thousands of youth fall victim to human traffickers,” she added.
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Thousands of migrant workers stranded overseas - The Jakarta Post

King Abdullah of Saudi ArabiaImage via Wikipedia

The Jakarta Post, Jakarta | Tue, 09/01/2009

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Battle for Honduras--and the Region - Nation

Manuel ZelayaImage via Wikipedia

Roberto Micheletti, who took power in Honduras following the June 28 coup, has come under intense criticism from the international community for rejecting a compromise, negotiated by Costa Rican President Oscar Arias, that would allow Manuel Zelaya, the democratically elected president forced into exile by the military, to return as head of a reconciliation government. But Micheletti's obstinacy is encouraged by those who see the crisis as a chance to halt the advance of the Latin American left. A month and a half after Zelaya's overthrow, the small, desperately poor Central American country has become the site of a larger battle that could shape hemispheric politics, including Barack Obama's foreign policy, for years to come.

In the 1980s Honduras served as a staging ground for Ronald Reagan's anticommunist operations in neighboring Nicaragua, El Salvador and Guatemala and as a portal for New Right Christians to roll back liberation theology. Central America's anticommunist crusade became something of a death-squad Da Vinci Code, pulling together a carnivalesque cast that included first-generation neocons, Latin American torturers, local oligarchs, anti-Castro Cubans, mercenaries, Opus Dei ideologues and pulpit-thumping evangelicals.

The campaign to oust Zelaya and prevent his restoration has reunited old comrades from that struggle, including shadowy figures like Fernando "Billy" Joya (who in the 1980s was a member of Battalion 316, a Honduran paramilitary unit responsible for the disappearance of hundreds, and who now works as Micheletti's security adviser) and Iran/Contra veterans like Otto Reich (who ran Reagan's Office of Public Diplomacy, which misused public money to manipulate public opinion to support the Contra war against Nicaragua). The Honduran generals who deposed Zelaya received their military training at the height of the region's dirty wars, including courses at the notorious School of the Americas. And the current crisis reveals a familiar schism between conservative Catholic hierarchs and evangelical Protestants who back the coup, on the one hand, and progressive Christians who are being hounded by security forces, on the other.

Joining the coup coalition are new actors like Venezuelan Robert Carmona-Borjas, who was involved in the 2002 attempt to overthrow Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez. According to Latin American analyst Laura Carlsen, Carmona, working closely with Reich, turned his attentions to Honduras after having failed to halt the electoral success of the left in Venezuela. Starting in 2007, Carmona's Arcadia Foundation launched a press campaign to discredit Zelaya by accusing his government of widespread graft. As Carlsen writes, the "politicized nature of Arcadia's anti-corruption offensive was clear from the start. Carmona, along with Otto Reich, charged President Zelaya of complicity" in assorted misdeeds. The crusade was similar to the way International Republican Institute-linked "democracy promotion" groups destabilized the government of Haitian president Jean-Bertrand Aristide, resulting in his overthrow in 2004.

Also fresh to the fight is Lanny Davis, a former Hillary Clinton adviser turned lobbyist, who was hired by business backers of the coup to push the Clinton State Department to recognize the Micheletti government. The Clinton wing of the Democratic Party has deep ties to Latin American neoliberals who presided over ruinous policies of market liberalization in the 1990s, now largely displaced from office by the region's new leftists. Clinton pollsters and consultants, such as Stanley Greenberg and Doug Schoen, have worked on a number of their presidential campaigns, often on the losing side.

Three years ago the region, locked into the US sphere of influence by the Central American Free Trade Agreement, seemed immune to the changes taking place in South America, which had brought leftists to power in a majority of countries. But then the Sandinistas returned to office in Nicaragua in 2006. Recently, the FMLN won the presidency in El Salvador, and Guatemala, led by center-left President Álvaro Colom, is witnessing a resurgence of peasant activism, much of it against transnational mining and biofuel corporations.

In Honduras, Zelaya shook things up by raising the minimum wage and apologizing for the executions of street children and gang members carried out by security forces in the 1990s. He moved to reduce the US military presence and refused to privatize Hondutel, the state-owned telecommunications firm, a deal that Micheletti, as president of Congress, pushed. Zelaya also vetoed legislation, likewise supported by Micheletti, that would have banned sale of the morning-after pill. Considering Nicaraguan President Daniel Ortega's shameful support of the Catholic Church's position on abortion, which resulted in legislation mandating up to thirty-year jail terms for women who receive them, this was perhaps Zelaya's most courageous move. He also accepted foreign aid, in the form of low-cost petroleum, from Venezuela. It would be impossible to overstate the Central American ruling class's hatred of Chávez, whose hand is seen behind every peasant protest and every call to democratize the region's politics and economics. The president of a Honduran business council recently said Chávez "had Honduras in his mouth. He was a cat with a mouse that got away."

The fixation on Chávez usefully diverts attention from the gnawing poverty in the region, as well as from the failure of the neoliberal economic model promoted by Washington in recent decades. Forty percent of Central Americans, and more than 50 percent of Hondurans, live in poverty. The Chávez mania also distracts from the fact that under Washington's equally disastrous "war on drugs," crime cartels, deeply rooted in the military and traditional oligarchic families, have rendered much of Central America into what the Washington Office on Latin America calls "captive states."

For the White House, Honduras is proving to be an unexpectedly difficult foreign-policy test. After condemning the coup, Obama handed the crisis to the State Department. Rather than working with the Organization of American States (OAS), Secretary of State Clinton unilaterally charged Oscar Arias with brokering a compromise, ignoring the concerns of most other Latin American governments that negotiations would grant too much legitimacy to the coup. Clinton has so far been unwilling to apply a range of possible sanctions, including freezing the bank accounts of those who carried out the coup, to force Micheletti to accept the Arias plan. And for those who see Micheletti as the last line against the spread of Chavismo--be it in Honduras, Guatemala, El Salvador or elsewhere in the Americas--the return of Zelaya, even just to finish the few months left in his term, is unacceptable.

In the late 1970s the Sandinista revolution revealed the limits of Jimmy Carter's tolerance of Third World nationalism. The more Carter tried to appease hawks in his administration, the more he was accused of vacillating, thus paving the way for neoconservatives, under Reagan, to use Central America to showcase their hard line.

A similar dynamic is taking place today. Republicans have rallied around Micheletti, sending a Congressional delegation led by Connie Mack to visit Tegucigalpa. Taking a page out of the Latin American right's playbook, they have redbaited Obama by associating him with Chávez. Obama, said Texas Senator John Cornyn, "must stand with the Honduran people, not with Hugo Chávez." It's the kind of grandstanding that Republicans, absent a domestic agenda, have come to rely on. Venezuela's position on Honduras is identical to that of Brazil and Chile--and, for that matter, the European Union. But the right-wing attacks are effective, largely because self-described liberals repeatedly indulge in the demonization not just of Chávez, as Lanny Davis recently did, but of leftists like Evo Morales in Bolivia and Rafael Correa in Ecuador.

In early August the State Department seemed to give ground to Republicans, stating in a letter to Republican Senator Richard Lugar that Zelaya's "provocative actions...unleashed the events that led to his removal." This statement, as well as other tepid efforts to pressure Micheletti, bodes ill for the Obama administration's willingness to stand up to right-wing pressure.

Obama himself continues to send mixed signals. At an August summit in Guadalajara of the presidents of Mexico, Canada and the United States, he complained that "critics who say that the United States has not intervened enough in Honduras are the same people who say that we're always intervening and the Yankees need to get out of Latin America. You can't have it both ways." However, no one in Latin America is asking for unilateral US intervention but rather for Washington to work multilaterally with the OAS. By deputizing Oscar Arias, the United States effectively undermined the OAS. On the same day Obama made these remarks, South American presidents, meeting in Quito, Ecuador, reaffirmed their condemnation of the coup and said they will not recognize any president elected under the current regime--a step Clinton's State Department has refused to take.

The failure to restore Zelaya to power will send a clear message to Latin American conservatives that Washington will tolerate coups, provided they are carried out under a democratic guise. As historian Miguel Tinker Salas recently observed in an essay published on Common Dreams, they already sense that Honduras might be a turning point. A conservative businessman recently won the presidency in Panama. In June in Argentina, Cristina Fernández's center-left Peronist party suffered a midterm electoral defeat and lost control of Congress. And polls show that presidential elections coming up in Chile and Brazil will be close, possibly dealing further losses to the left.

In the meantime, Zelaya is rallying supporters from abroad to press for his return. In Honduras, protests continue and the body count climbs. At least eleven Zelaya supporters have been killed since the coup took place. The latest, Martín Florencio Rivera, was stabbed to death as he left a wake held for another victim. Micheletti, for his part, is hunkered down in Tegucigalpa, betting he can leverage international support to last until regularly scheduled presidential elections in November. The future course of Latin American politics may hang in the balance.

About Greg Grandin

Greg Grandin, a professor of history at New York University, is the author, most recently, of Fordlandia: The Rise and Fall of Henry Ford's Forgotten Jungle City (Metropolitan). He serves on the editorial committee of the North American Congress on Latin America (NACLA)
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The Case for Busting the Filibuster - Nation

{{w|Claire McCaskill}}, U.S. Senator.Image via Wikipedia

This past spring, Senator Claire McCaskill wrote to me asking for $50 to help elect more Democrats, so we could have a filibuster-proof Senate. Now that Al Franken has finally been declared the sixtieth Democratic senator, her plea may seem moot. But even with Franken in office, we don't have a filibuster-proof Senate. To get to sixty on the Democratic side, we'll still have to cut deals with Democrats like Max Baucus, Ben Nelson and others who cat around as Blue Dogs from vote to vote. Whether or not Senator Arlen Specter is a Democrat, the real Democrats will still have to cut the same deals to get sixty votes.

Against his better judgment, Thomas Geoghegan has a website with his other complaints, including a petition demanding that the US Senate cloture the filibuster forever.

Maybe we loyal Dems should start sending postcards like the following: "Dear Senator: Why do you keep asking for my money? You've already got the fifty-one votes you need to get rid of the filibuster rule." It's true--McCaskill and her colleagues could get rid of it tomorrow. Then we really would have a Democratic Senate, like our Democratic House.

She won't. The Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee, which paid for her appeal, won't. They use the filibuster threat to hit us up for money. And as long as they do, you and I will keep on kicking in for a "filibuster-proof" Senate, which, with or without Franken, will never exist. Every Obama initiative will teeter around sixty, only the deal-cutting will go on deeper in the back rooms and be less transparent than before.

In the meantime, playing it straighter than Claude Rains, McCaskill and other Democrats tell us how shocked, yes, shocked they are that this deal-cutting is going on. May I quote her spring letter? "I'm writing to you today because President Obama's agenda is in serious jeopardy..."

It still is, as long as it takes sixty and not fifty-one votes to pass Obama's bills. But no, here's what she says: "Why? Because Republicans in the Senate--the same ones who spent years kowtowing to George W. Bush--are determined to block each and every one of President Obama's initiatives."

But why is that a surprise, if there's a rule that lets forty-one senators block a bill? The surprise to people in other countries is that the Senate, already wildly malapportioned, with two senators from every state no matter how big or small the population, does not observe majority rule. Her next line:

"It's appalling really."

It sure is--the way she and other Democratic senators keep the filibuster in place. But let her go on:

"They're the ones who got us into this mess. Now they want to stand in the way of every positive thing the President tries to do to set things right. I'm sure it frustrates you as much as it does me."

Yes, Senator, it frustrates me. But Democratic senators who let this happen and then ask for my money frustrate me even more.

As a labor lawyer, I have seen the Senate filibuster kill labor law reform--kill the right to join a union, freely and fairly--in 1978 and 1994. And, no doubt, in 2010.

And in the end, all we get is a letter from Senator McCaskill asking for more money. Of course, I know there are all sorts of arguments made for the filibuster. For example: "But the filibuster is part of our country's history, and there's much to be said for respecting our history and tradition." Yes, well, slavery and segregation are also part of our history, and that's what the filibuster was used to defend. I'm all in favor of history and tradition, but I see no reason to go on cherishing either the filibuster or the Confederate flag.

Besides, that's not the filibuster we're dealing with.

The post-1975 procedural filibuster is entirely unlike the old filibuster, the one Mr. Smith, as played by the unshaven Jimmy Stewart, stayed up all night to mount in his plea for honest government (though usually it was Senator Bullhorn defending Jim Crow). The old filibuster that you and I and Frank Capra and the Confederacy love so much was very rare, and now it's extinct. No one has stood up and read recipes for Campbell's Soup for decades. In 1975 Vice President Nelson Rockefeller, in his role as president of the Senate, ruled that just fifty-one senators could vote to get rid of the filibuster entirely. A simple majority of liberals could now force change on a frightened old guard. But instead of dumping the filibuster once and for all, the liberals, unsure of their support, agreed to a "reformed" Rule 22. It was this reform that, by accident, turned the once-in-a-blue-moon filibuster into something that happens all the time. The idea was to reduce the votes needed to cut off debate from sixty-seven, which on the Hill is a big hill to climb, to just sixty. Liberals like Walter Mondale wanted to make it easier to push through civil rights and other progressive legislation. What's the harm in that?

The only problem is that, because the filibuster had rendered the chamber so laughable, with renegade members pulling all-nighters and blocking all the Senate's business, the "reformers" came up with a new procedural filibuster--the polite filibuster, the Bob Dole filibuster--to replace the cruder old-fashioned filibuster of Senate pirates like Strom Thurmond ("filibuster" comes from the Dutch word for freebooter, or pirate). The liberals of 1975 thought they could banish the dark Furies of American history, but they wound up spawning more demons than we'd ever seen before. Because the senators did not want to be laughed at by stand-up comedians, they ended their own stand-up acts with a rule that says, essentially:

"We aren't going to let the Senate pirates hold up business anymore. From now on, if those people want to filibuster, they can do it offstage. They can just file a motion that they want debate to continue on this measure indefinitely. We will then put the measure aside, and go back to it only if we get the sixty votes to cut off this not-really-happening debate."

In other words, the opposing senators don't have the stomach to stand up and read the chicken soup recipes. We call it the "procedural" filibuster, but what we really mean is the "pretend" filibuster.

But the procedural, or pretend, filibuster is an even worse form of piracy, an open invitation to senatorial predators to prey on neutral shipping, to which they might have given safe passage before. After all, why not "filibuster" if it's a freebie--if you don't actually have to stand up and talk in the chamber until you're not only half dead from exhaustion but have made yourself a laughingstock? That's what post-1975 senators began to do. In the 1960s, before the procedural filibuster, there were seven or fewer "old" filibusters in an entire term. In the most recent Senate term, there were 138.

At least with the old filibuster, we knew who was doing the filibustering. With the modern filibuster, senators can hold up bills without the public ever finding out their names. No one's accountable for obstructing. No senator runs the risk of looking like a fool. But while they're up there concealing one another's identity, the Republic is a shambles. And now, with a nominal sixty Democratic votes, the need for secrecy as to who has put everything on hold may be even greater than before.

"But just wait till 2010, when we get sixty-two or sixty-three Democrats." I'm sure that's what Senator McCaskill would tell me. "So come on, kick in." But Senator, where will they come from? They could come from bloody border states like yours (Missouri), or from deep inside the South. The problem with the filibuster is not so much that it puts Republicans in control but that it puts senators from conservative regions like the South, the border states and the Great Plains in control. The only true filibuster-proof Senate would be a majority that would be proof against those regions.

An astute book published in 2006, Thomas Schaller's Whistling Past Dixie, argued that to craft a presidential majority Democrats don't need the Southern vote. That may be true (although it turned out that Barack Obama made historic inroads in the South, winning three states there). But there is no way to whistle past Dixie when a non-Dixie presidential majority tries to get its program through the Senate. After 2010, we could have sixty-four Democrats in the Senate and still be in bad shape.

A filibuster-proof Senate, then, is a conceptual impossibility. Even with a hundred Democrats, a filibuster would still lock in a form of minority rule. Because among the Democrats there would arise two new subparties, with forty-one senators named "Baucus" blocking fifty-nine senators named "Brown."

Here's another argument for the filibuster: "If we get rid of it, we'll be powerless against the Republicans when they're in charge." That's why we need it, they say: we're waiting for the barbarians, for the nightmare of President Palin. People in the AFL-CIO tell me this even as the filibuster keeps the right to organize a union on ice and union membership keeps shrinking.

Or as a union general counsel said to me: "Everyone here in the DC office would be freaked out completely if we lost the filibuster. They think it's the only thing that saved us from Bush." Inside the Beltway, they all think it's the filibuster that saved those of us who read Paul Krugman from being shipped off to Guantánamo. Really, that's what many people on the left think. "If Bush ever came back, we'd need it."

Of course Bush, or a Bush equivalent, will come back--precisely because Obama and our side will be blocked by the filibuster. Obama is in peril until he gets the same constitutional power that FDR had, i.e., the right to pass a program with a simple majority (at least after Senator Huey Long finally ran out of words). But let's deal with the canard that the filibuster "saved" us from Bush. What's the evidence? Judicial nominations: that's the answer they give. Go ahead, name someone we blocked. Roberts? Alito? Of course there's Bork, whom we blocked in the 1980s. But we didn't block him with a filibuster.

Think seriously about whom we really stopped. Look, I'm all in favor of opposing atrocious right-wing nominations, and I admit that the filibuster, or at least the GOP's refusal to nuke it, did keep some appellate and district courts free of especially bad people. But I can tell you as a lawyer who does appellate work, who has to appear before these judges, it makes little difference to me if we lose the filibuster. All it means is that instead of a bad conservative, I end up with a really bad conservative. Either way, I still wind up losing.

I think I can say this on behalf of many liberal lawyers who appear before appellate courts: if we could give up the filibuster and get labor law reform or national health insurance, I'd put up with a slightly more disagreeable group of right-wing judges. We'll take the heat.

The fact is, as long as we have the filibuster, we ensure the discrediting of the Democratic Party and we're more likely, not less, to have a terrible bench.

Sure, sometimes liberal Democrats put the filibuster to good use when Republicans are in power. Sure, sometimes a liberal senator can use the filibuster to stop a piece of corporate piracy. It's impossible to prove that the filibuster never does any good. But the record is awfully thin. Look at all the financial deregulation that Senator Phil Gramm and leading Democrats like Larry Summers pushed through only a decade ago. The filibuster did not stop their effective repeal of the New Deal, but it would block the revival of it today.

On the other hand, Republicans and conservative Democrats use their filibusters on labor, health, the stimulus, everything. They can and will block all the change that Obama wanted us to believe in. And even when they lose, they win. For example, when we say that after a major rewriting of the stimulus package--a rewriting that seriously weakened the original bill--it "survived the filibuster," what we really mean is that it didn't.

But let's turn to the final objection: "No one in Washington cares about this. It's not on the agenda. It's a waste of time even to discuss it. What you're talking about is impossible."

What Washington insiders partly mean when they say this is, With a filibuster, any senator can stick up the Senate, and what senator is going to turn in his or her sidearm by giving up the right to demand sixty votes? That's why they're raising a million dollars a day. Otherwise, they'd be peacefully serving in the House. The right to filibuster is what makes each of them a small-town sheriff. That's why it would take massive marches in the streets to force them to give it up.

Indeed, it's hard to imagine how bloody the battle would be. The last time anything so traumatic happened on the Hill was in 1961, when the bigger procedural bar to majority rule was not in the Senate but the House. John Kennedy had just come in, and it was clear that his New Frontier program (we still didn't have Medicare) would go nowhere because of the power of the House Rules Committee chair, the now forgotten "Judge" Howard Smith. Kennedy had to enlist the Speaker of the House, Sam Rayburn, to break Smith's power to stop any bill he disliked from leaving House Rules. In the end, the battle to beat Smith probably killed Rayburn, who died later in the year.

It was an awful power struggle, and many were aghast that Kennedy had thrown away all his capital for this cause. But had he not done it, there probably would not have been a Civil Rights Bill, or certainly not the full-blown version of the Great Society that Lyndon Johnson pushed through after Kennedy's assassination. Imagine having to fight the battle for Medicare today. Without that war on Judge Smith, what we now call the "liberal hour" would not have come.

Nor will any "liberal hour" come in our time, until we bring the filibuster down. I know it seems hopeless. But so did knocking out slavery when the abolitionists first started, or segregation, when civil rights activists began their struggle against Jim Crow. It's a fair enough analogy, since the filibuster is one of the last remnants of racist politics in America: it was a parliamentary tactic used by the Calhounians to make extra certain slavery would stay around.

We should adopt the strategy of the antislavery movement, which in the early stages had three approaches:

1. The laying of petitions on the House. Forgive the archaic legal phrase: I mean petitions to Congress, both houses. In the era of John Quincy Adams--in case you missed the Steven Spielberg movie--there would be mass petitions, with Adams and others reading them on the House floor to the howls of the Southerners. Every group busted by a filibuster should lay on a petition. And start with the House, which is the only place it has a chance of being read.

2. Resolutions by the House, as a warm-up for the Senate. Such resolutions might read: "Resolved, that Congress has no authority to require supermajorities in any chamber except as authorized by the Constitution." Aren't House chairs tired of seeing their bills cast into black holes by senators whose names they never even know?

3. Evangelizing. The most effective tactic in the fight against slavery was the preaching of New England clergy against it. We can start in our battle against the filibuster by enlisting faculty at New England colleges to hold teach-ins. Teach the kids why "Yes, we can" can't happen with the current Senate rules.

By the way, the abolitionists knew the Senate was their enemy, just as it is our enemy today. Let's hope these tactics work for us in getting rid of this last vestige of slavery: Senate Rule 22. What's painful is that we have to cross some of our most sainted senators. But unless we decide to just give up on the Republic, there's no way out. To save the Obama presidency, we may have to fight our heroes.

About Thomas Geoghegan

Thomas Geoghegan, a lawyer in Chicago, is the author of In America's Court: How a Civil Lawyer Who Likes to Settle Stumbled Into a Criminal Trial and Which Side AreYou On? Trying to Be for Labor When It's Flat on Its Back (both New Press)
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Taliban: How Crime Pays for the Growing Insurgency - Time

To understand why America and its allies are losing the war in Afghanistan, consider the story behind one deadly attack. On July 6, in the northern Afghan province of Kunduz, a powerful improvised explosive device, or IED, detonated under the wheels of a U.S. humvee. Four soldiers died, as did their translator and a bystander. The makeshift bomb was assembled with goods from the local bazaar. The man who placed it was probably paid the going rate of $750, according to government officials, or more if he captured video proof of dead soldiers. And though the local Taliban covered his expenses and fees, the cash very likely came from money donated by the international community to rebuild Afghanistan's roads, bridges, clinics and schools.

Just a week before the explosion, Hajji Lala Jan, a local businessman subcontracted by a local firm working for the German government — aid agency GTZ to build a road in Kunduz, handed some $15,000 in cash to a Taliban middleman to ensure that his project wouldn't be attacked, according to local officials — though Jan himself denies it. The Taliban cash flow has many sources, and it's impossible to say if German taxpayer dollars directly paid for that IED. Andreas Clausing, country director for GTZ, says such payoffs are "impossible. It is forbidden in our contracts, and we have very strict monitoring." Nevertheless, it is likely that a substantial amount of aid money from many countries — including the U.S. — has made its way, directly or indirectly, into the Taliban's coffers. "Here we have internationals and Afghans turning a blind eye to the fact that we are paying off the very Taliban that we claim to be fighting," says an adviser to the Afghan Ministry of Interior. "It becomes a self-sustaining war, a self-licking ice cream." (See pictures of the battle in Afghanistan's Kunar province.)

That war has become the most pressing overseas challenge facing the Obama Administration, which has already increased the number of U.S. troops in Afghanistan by 20,000 and is receiving pleas from top commanders to send even more. Barely a week after Afghans went to the polls to vote for a President, the results are tied up in accusations of fraud flying between the two leading candidates, President Hamid Karzai and former Foreign Minister Abdullah Abdullah. It will be several weeks before an official result is announced. But the political wrangling in Kabul is a sideshow to the increasingly lethal and effective campaign being waged by the Taliban. Drugs, contributions from private donors and — more and more — payoffs from local businessmen ensure that the insurgency stays robust. A Western official estimates that the Taliban is making more than it is spending, "and I don't want to even think about where the rest of that money is going." And as long as the money continues to flow, the war will go on.

Up to now, most explanations of the Taliban's funding have focused on its control of Afghanistan's poppy fields, which provide the raw material for heroin. Last month the CIA and the Defense Intelligence Agency released a report estimating that the Taliban receives about $70 million a year from the drug trade. But drugs aren't the whole story. "The Taliban obtains revenue from a variety of sources, including extortion of funds from both legitimate and unlawful activity," says David Cohen, the Treasury's assistant secretary for terrorist financing. Major General Michael Flynn, senior military intelligence official at NATO's International Security Assistance Force (ISAF) in Afghanistan stresses Mafia-like activities such as extortion and kidnapping for ransom. "I would say that there is more money going into the pockets of local leaders [of the insurgency] from criminal activities than there is from narcotics money," he says. (See six ways to fix the CIA.)

It's important to remember that the Afghan insurgency is not a cohesive movement but rather a loose affiliation of groups united by a common goal: the expulsion of foreign troops. Provincial rebel leaders are left largely to make their own plans and find their own funding. Drug money is more likely to go to national leaders of the insurgency, like Mullah Omar, who provide guidance and training for local groups. Local commanders, on the other hand, "absolutely raise their own funds through criminal activities to pay for food, IEDs, weapons and salaries," says Flynn. The billions of dollars spent on reconstruction projects are far too tempting a target to pass up. As a result, the Taliban, once an organization of seminary students seeking to establish a caliphate, is embracing criminal elements that feed on insecurity for financial gain. Together with poor governance, ineffective policing and a weak justice system, the nexus between the Taliban and crime is becoming dangerously entrenched in Afghan society. "The Taliban are acting like a broad network of criminal gangs that enables them to utilize different sources of income," says Ahmad Nader Nadery of the Afghanistan Independent Human Rights Commission.

See pictures of the battle against the Taliban.

See pictures of Afghanistan's dangerous Korengal Valley.

Afghans are learning the hard way how difficult it is to deal with this level of criminality. The day after the American soldiers died in Kunduz, Jan's construction site was hit. A bulldozer and 12 trucks were torched and two of the drivers caught by the Taliban and held for ransom. Jan, 72, with closely cropped hair, a thick white beard and a string of amber prayer beads, claims he was targeted in retaliation for not paying off the Taliban, even though the provincial governor and district governor say he did. Not that Jan would have refused — he says the Taliban never asked. "If the Taliban had asked for $100,000, I would have gladly paid them," says Jan. "This equipment was worth $230,000." What probably happened, says Abdul Wahid Omerkhil, district governor of Char Dara, where the attack took place, is that Jan paid off the wrong people. "It usually happens like that. You pay one group and you don't pay the other, and they will burn you."

Supping with the Devil
The situation in Char Dara, just 18 miles (about 30 km) from the provincial capital, Kunduz, has gotten so bad that Omerkhil doesn't even spend nights there. Taliban members openly walk the streets and demand usher, a religious tithe, in exchange for adjudicating disputes. From Char Dara, the Taliban is expanding throughout Kunduz. The Taliban's success in the province is attributable to the fact that it can raise money there. In the spring, Mullah Omar dispatched a Taliban "shadow governor" to Kunduz along with a handful of Uzbek, Chechen and Arab fighters, with the intent of threatening the transit of NATO supplies to Kabul. The arrival of Mullah Salam, the Taliban governor, coincided with the return of a local man, Shirin Agha, who had fled to Pakistan after he got into a gunfight at a wedding. While the commanders work independently, they share common tactics, demanding usher, kidnapping for ransom and taking cuts of construction projects. Sitting in the dilapidated foyer of his mansion, Mohammed Omer, the provincial governor of Kunduz, marvels at the scale of the two Taliban leaders' rackets. By his estimate, Salam and Agha amassed at least $100,000 in a month through kidnappings for ransom and protection payments from contractors, who in turn had been paid by international donors. "The problem is that the people here are demanding a school or a road or a bridge, and the foreigners want to help," Omer says. "If we don't build, the people complain, but if we do, this problem arises. Either way, the Taliban benefits." A foreign official in Kunduz who asked not to be identified says, "No one is going to come save these construction companies. The Taliban know that the international community is concerned about security, but they also know it wants to pursue development as much as possible. So extortion is the easiest crime."

It's not just the big foreign-aid projects that get hit. Local businesses are victims too. In Kandahar, says a businessman who asked for anonymity out of fear of Taliban retribution, even the smallest shops pay a "business license" to the Taliban. In his company, which builds towers for mobile-phone transmitters, he estimates that 20% to 30% of total costs go to protection payments. The going rate to protect a transmitter tower runs about $2,000 a month, he says. "You have no choice but to pay these guys. You don't want to do it, but there is no government in these areas, no security, so you have to do what you can to protect your business."

That analysis is confirmed by Sargon Heinrich, a Kabul-based U.S. businessman in construction and service industries. Heinrich says some 16% of his gross revenue goes to "facilitation fees," mostly to protect shipments of valuable equipment coming from the border. "That is all revenue that will ultimately be shared by the Taliban." As an American, Heinrich is troubled by the implication that he may be funding the insurgency. "All of this could be seen as material support for enemy forces," he muses. "But you have to weigh that against everything that is being done in that project. Are you aiding and abetting the enemy if you have to pay to get a school built? It's the cost of doing business here." In fact, protection payments are so widespread that one contractor I interviewed responded incredulously to questions about how the system worked. "You must be the only person in Afghanistan who doesn't know this is going on," he said.

Read "Why Obama's Afghan War Is Different."

See pictures of the U.S. Marines' new offensive in Afghanistan.

Taking the Long View
U.S. and Afghan government officials certainly know about the protection rackets. Afghan Deputy Minister of Public Works Mohammad Rasooli Wali freely admits that the contractors he has hired to help build the multibillion-dollar ring road around Afghanistan — funded by the World Bank, USAID and other nations' development programs — probably pay off the Taliban to protect their sites and equipment. For his part, Colonel Thomas O'Donovan, the departing head of the Army Corps of Engineers in Afghanistan, which is responsible for about $4 billion worth of U.S. government contracts a year, admits that there is little the Corps can do to stop subcontractors from paying the Taliban. "If we catch them, then they are done. But how do you catch them? It's not like the Taliban give receipts."

So what can be done? Cohen, at Treasury, says an interagency task force has recently been convened on the issue of funding extremists, hoping this will help "protect the critically important work of humanitarian agencies in the region." Flynn, who came to ISAF two months ago with General Stanley McChrystal, the organization's new U.S. commander, thinks the old laissez-faire attitude toward protection money has got to change. "This is happening on battlefields across Afghanistan," he says, "and we have to fix it. Because if we can't fix that, then we can't tell the government of Afghanistan to get its act together." Hanif Atmar, Afghanistan's Minister of the Interior, says increased financing, particularly through extortion, is emboldening the enemy and admits that part of the fault lies with his government. "Yes, I blame [contractors and construction companies] for the fact that they are paying these insurgents, but at the same time, I sympathize with them because they are not doing it out of their own accord but because they are forced to. It is our responsibility as the government of Afghanistan and the international community to provide a secure environment for them to work. And so far, we have not been able to do so." (Read TIME's interview with McChrystal.)

That's in part because some Afghan officials think cracking down on protection rackets would be too difficult and costly, when an easier solution could be found in more development. Deputy Minister Wali says, "If the contractors pay the Taliban — well, that is only for a year, and the road is good for many years. And that brings security." Once the road is completed, he argues, it brings hospitals, police, schools and education. "And once the people know what the peace in the area is like, they will leave their guns and do some agriculture."

But that argument hasn't been borne out elsewhere. The Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, or FARC, for example, has become so entrenched in the cocaine trade that it is now difficult to isolate the true ideologues from the criminals that keep the movement alive. The adviser to the Afghan Ministry of the Interior says the costs of enabling the Taliban's protection racket outweigh the benefits of any reconstruction that might come out of it. "It both prolongs the war and feeds criminality, which in turn turns more people against the government." His solution is to encourage local participation. "If you want a school, then make the locals build the school. You want a road, bring in local labor. It might be more convenient to pay off the Taliban, and it might be faster. But the community will protect what the community has built."

Such an approach would take time to bear fruit. The first step would be to shield local populations from the Taliban's threats — mission impossible without more Afghan and Western boots on the ground. Omerkhil, the beleaguered district governor from Char Dara, says there are only 27 police in his district of 80,000 residents "and 3,000 Taliban. The alternative to paying the Taliban is easy. If we had more soldiers, more police and more checkpoints, then I can guarantee you that the Taliban wouldn't be able to do anything."

In the end, only a thriving — and legal — local economy will turn off the Taliban's faucet. "If you have people making more money in a criminal organization than they can [make] working for the government or in the private sector," says a U.S. Treasury official involved in the issue, "it is an indication that we need to do a lot more to create a viable Afghan economy." Correct — and sadly, not something likely to be put right anytime soon.

With reporting by Shah Mahmood Barakzai / Kabul

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One Big Unhappy Family - The New York Review of Books

Osama bin Laden in the December 2001 videoImage via Wikipedia

Volume 56, Number 4 · March 12, 2009

One Big Unhappy Family

By Fred Halliday

The Bin Ladens: An Arabian Family in the American Century
by Steve Coll

Penguin, 671 pp., $35.00; $18.00 (paper; to be published March 31)

About a decade ago I had a curious visitor to my office at the London School of Economics. An American in his mid-fifties, he explained that he had been a student in the 1960s and had come by to see who was in the office of a former professor. I asked him what he was now doing. "I am the American ambassador to Saudi Arabia," he replied. Previously, Wyche Fowler had been a Democratic senator from Georgia, losing his seat in 1992; he had then been appointed US ambassador in Riyadh by President Clinton, a position he held from 1996 to 2001. So, I asked him, how would he evaluate the situation in this notoriously opaque country? Ambassador Fowler explained that indeed it was difficult to monitor the country; he and his colleagues were largely confined to the embassy, and access to Saudis was extremely difficult. As ambassador, he said, the only person he could really talk to was the King—an experience he compared, with a little irony, to talking to Ronald Reagan.

He was not alone in finding it difficult to get a handle on Saudi Arabia. Until the past decade or so, there was almost no reliable academic or journalistic writing on the country.[1] US intelligence and diplomatic analysis did little better. As The Bin Ladens, Steve Coll's fascinating recent book, demonstrates, precise knowledge about the workings of power, members of the ruling elite, security, and money was intrinsically impossible to find.

Along with several other American ambassadors to Saudi Arabia, Wyche Fowler has a walk-on part in Coll's book. Following the bombings of two US embassies in East Africa in 1998, Fowler was told to put pressure on the Saudis to reveal details of the bin Laden family finances and links to Osama, who took credit for the bombings. He found himself caught up in conflicts between different branches of the US government, each insisting that it had the best means of getting the desired information. It is easy to claim that one or another approach would have made a decisive difference, that the September 11 attacks could have been avoided, or that the Saudis could really have closed down the al-Qaeda operation. Looked at from the outside, however, such assumptions appear less certain. In a world where public statistics, and accounts, are largely inventions, in which even basic figures of national income and expenditure are worthless, conventional forms of investigation, based on experience in the United States or elsewhere, are of little use.



To read Coll's book is to enter a universe of perpetual movement and deal-making, but one in which little, if anything, is recorded or written down, where power and money are distributed by means of kin networks, informal gatherings of influential Saudi males, and the mobile phone. The Bin Ladens is not so much a book about Osama bin Laden himself, or his terrorist network and political aspirations, as about the power structures of modern Saudi Arabia. And in this it is most informative. Against much contemporary writing about the Arab world, which tends to explain political and social behavior by analysis of culture and religion, Coll's book is about more secular matters—about sibling rivalry; fascination with modern technology, particularly planes and means of communication; about the attraction of women; and above all, for all the talk of piety, about money.

Drawing on extensive oral testimony from friends and business partners, The Bin Ladens gives persuasive explanations not just of Osama bin Laden, of where he came from and how he was radicalized, but of his gifted and restless family and, perhaps more than anything, of the modern Saudi elite itself. The success of the bin Ladens was tied to their connections and access to the King and his close associates, and the ability to anticipate and carry out, whether in building, engineering, or accounting, the wishes of the House of Saud.

Coll describes the rise of Mohamed bin Laden, a poor immigrant from the Hadhramawt region of Yemen who arrived in Arabia in the 1920s and became one of the country's leading construction magnates. Beyond ingenuity and hard work, he had a remarkable capacity for understanding and manipulating the shifting and internecine worlds of the Saudi royal family. The Saudis came to power in the 1920s without the experts or trained personnel to run a state, and they relied heavily on enterprising immigrants, like Mohamed bin Laden, together with the more cosmopolitan business elite of western Arabia, the Hijaz. This reliance persisted well into the second and third generations, so that by the time Mohamed bin Laden was killed in a plane crash in 1967, his elder son Salem—educated in Britain and in Lebanon, and with a taste for the life-style of Texas and California—came to occupy the same position, coaxing contracts and payment out of the Saudi court and, in a loose but effective way, managing the family construction business on behalf of Mohamed's fifty-four children, among them twenty-four sons, of whom Osama was one of the youngest and, initially, less prominent.

Salem bin Laden built up contacts with Americans that would have been unimaginable to his father. These included oil engineers, fixers, financiers, and pilots, as well as a string of lovers whom he met in his ceaseless traveling, flying, purchasing, and negotiating. He died in a plane crash at a small airfield in Texas in 1988. There is something at once elusive and intoxicating about the world of the oil elite of Arabia. Many of its members spend their lives talking, charming, making deals, managing to receive payments, moving from one city and continent to another, accompanied by hangers-on, cronies, sycophants, and friends. The first question that always arises in such circles is " Mata wasalt? ": "When did you arrive?"

This is a world awash with money, the precise origins of which are hardly clear. In all the pages of The Bin Ladens, and the detailed account of the family's business, personal, and political activities, three words rarely if ever appear: "book," "idea," "read"—although we soon gather that the initially reserved and pensive younger brother Osama must have read extensively. It is small wonder that, exposed to both Saudi puritanism and the Western lifestyle, the members of the bin Laden family should have chosen a variety of paths, from assimilation into the Western elite, such as Yeslam, now in the perfume business in Geneva, to outright rejection, as in the case of Osama. As Coll puts it, perhaps with a little simplification, the bin Laden family divided into the "Hard Rock" and " jihadi " factions.

Coll is careful not to bring Salem's younger brother Osama into the picture too early. This is in part because he wants to show from what kind of world Osama, who was born in the mid-1950s, emerged. He received an elite education in a private school in Jeddah, al-Thaghr, modeled on a British "public" school; it featured English and Scottish teachers, and a school magazine which was edited in Osama's time by a Saudi who later became a student at the London School of Economics. For many years, until his estrangement from the family in the late 1990s, Osama received his share, estimated by Coll at between $2 and $3 million per year, of the bin Laden business income.

His entire career and life opportunities had been framed by his ties to the Saudi elite; but whereas his brothers concentrated on financial and commercial links, Osama's links were political. Radicalized by Muslim Brotherhood teachers who were in exile from Egypt in the 1980s, and increasingly drawn to an austere, reserved lifestyle, Osama went to Pakistan in 1984 to help organize the recruitment and deployment of Arab volunteers who had come to fight the Russian and Afghan Communist forces over the border. At first, his primary function was to help funnel money from the Saudi intelligence services to the Mujahideen, and also to use skills, contacts, and, it seems, even construction equipment provided by the family business to build bases and facilities for the anti-Communist forces inside Afghanistan.

Coll is keen to maintain a sense of proportion in describing Osama bin Laden's role in the Afghan jihad. He was not a major military leader, but had a part in at least two bloody episodes in the latter stages of the war: a battle in 1987 in the border region of Jaji, where he had built a network of caves and fortifications for the Islamist fighters; and the unsuccessful siege of the eastern Afghan town of Jalalabad in 1989. Coll goes on to develop one of his major themes—the degree to which Osama bin Laden, increasingly involved in fighting and an apparently heroic military campaign, came, more and more, to believe in his own rhetoric about his leadership of a global Islamic movement. He quarreled first with his Palestinian mentor, the militant Islamist cleric Abdullah Azzam, who died in mysterious circumstances in 1989, and then with his Saudi sponsors, following the Iraqi attack on Kuwait in 1990. Saudi Arabia supported the US in the Gulf War, while bin Laden saw the presence of infidel US forces in Arabia as violating the sacred land of Islam. It was when King Fahd rejected bin Laden's offer to fight the Iraqis using Islamist forces instead of relying on the US that the latter's real falling-out with the Saudi ruling family began.

Coll questions the conventional story about bin Laden's links to the CIA. As the author of a previous book on the CIA's role in Afghanistan, Ghost Wars,[2] he is well placed to investigate the issue. He finds that there is no evidence of bin Laden ever being paid by, or meeting directly with, American intelligence representatives during the Afghan war. However, as Coll also makes clear, this does not mean too much. Bin Laden was well connected with the Pakistani and Saudi security services, and made at least one trip to London, in 1986, when he stayed in the Dorchester Hotel for six to eight weeks, negotiating for the supply of portable antiaircraft missiles to the Afghan guerrillas with his brother Salem and a representative of the German arms firm Heckler & Koch. Plausible deniability is, in the world of covert operations and intelligence, very much part of the game.

Coll draws on information found by the Bosnian authorities during a raid in 2002 to provide an account of the founding of al-Qaeda as a loose transnational coalition at meetings in Peshawar, Pakistan, in August 1988. The story of Osama's gradual estrangement from the Saudi state and from his own family is also well told. For Coll, key turning points are Osama's involvement, however indirect, in the 1993 attempt to bomb the World Trade Center in New York and his open denunciation, beginning in 1994, of the Saudi ruling family for allowing the military bases of American infidels on Arabian soil.

On other questions, such as why the date of September 11, 2001, was chosen, we remain in the dark. Remarkably for a subject on which so little that is reliable has been written to date, The Bin Ladens contains very few erroneous or contestable judgements.[3] The main weaknesses occur in Coll's account of events that have little to do with America or Saudi Arabia as such. He makes rather too little of Osama's time in Sudan, from 1991 to 1996, a period following the takeover of Sudan by Islamists in 1989, when he was involved in major attempts to overthrow the government of Egypt and other states, including Algeria and Libya. In 1993, al-Jihad, the Egyptian organization run by bin Laden's close associate Ayman al-Zawahiri, failed in its attempt to assassinate Egypt's interior minister and prime minister. This was not an interlude: it was the blocking—by the government of Egypt, among others—of the export of the Sudanese Islamic revolution to neighboring states that pushed Osama to his later "global" attacks in East Africa and Manhattan. In this very important sense, September 11, spectacular as it was, was also a sign of failure, not of escalating battle, and it was carried out on behalf not only of bin Laden but of his radical Egyptian allies.

Coll's account of al-Qaeda's role in Saudi Arabia's neighbor, Yemen, in the late 1980s and early 1990s greatly understates the extent to which Islamist militias such as the Abyan Army, led by Tariq al-Fadli, a former sultan, and the armed groups in northern Yemen led by Abd al-Majid al-Zindani supported the pro-Western North against the formerly socialist South. The undermining and ultimate destruction of the Communist regime in South Yemen, the only case other than Afghanistan in which a Soviet-style system was established in the Muslim world, was a major priority for bin Laden and his associates. Coll's account implies that this was something that occurred only in the late 1980s, whereas the involvement of bin Laden's allies and kin, in what for them was a struggle against a Communist regime similar to that of Afghanistan, lasted through to the 1994 war between North Yemen and the socialist republic of South Yemen, which the North won.[4]

On three broader matters relevant to the whole al-Qaeda story, Coll's book clarifies our understanding. First, Osama bin Laden was not a product of a medieval mentality, or of some rigid "Islamic" way of thinking, but of the modern world—its conflicts, ideas, and, not least, its gadgets, ease of communication, media-produced images, and even fantasies.

Second, while he came from a wealthy and well-connected family, Osama, along with the estimated fifty-three other children of Mohamed bin Laden, did not inherit, or have access to, enormous sums of money: Coll assesses his wealth, calculated on the basis of Mohamed's estate, divided proportionately between the children, at around $24 million, and at least some of this he is believed to have lost in business ventures in Sudan during his time there in the 1990s. What Osama bin Laden did, and to a degree still does, have is the ability to make use of contacts and to raise money. This network includes sympathetic members of the bin Laden family, among them some of his sisters and half-sisters; informal contacts in the Saudi elite; and, not least, parts of the Pakistani intelligence and business communities.

Third, although the attacks on Manhattan and Washington in September 2001 were direct hits on American soil, Osama bin Laden's aims do not encompass the defeat of the United States, or the conquest of the West, by, or "for," Islam: the attacks on Europe and the US are, in Arabian tribal terminology, "raids." The "planes operation," as it was originally called when it was first conceived in 1998, was designed to be a spectacular piece of theater, what anarchists used to call "Propaganda of the Deed," a provocation that would draw the US military into further, and costly, conflicts in the Middle East, primarily Afghanistan. This was also the original purpose of the attack on the USS Cole in Aden harbor in October 2000, an operation that failed to sink the missile-carrying vessel, but that did kill seventeen American servicemen.

The original plan for September 11 seems to have envisaged no fewer than ten simultaneous hijackings and targets on the West as well as the East Coast of the US. As we now can see so clearly, even the scaled-down four-plane operation more than served its purposes, drawing America into a war in Afghanistan which it appeared to win, in 2001, but which has now turned very much the other way. It also led to something Osama bin Laden seems not to have envisaged, a war in Iraq, which, even if it can be stabilized, has served as a recruiting ground, and symbol, for jihadis across the region.

There is, however, a fourth, and wider, lesson of the world portrayed in Coll's book, namely that of the business practices and modus operandi of the Arabian business and political leaders. During the spike in oil prices in the first half of 2008, much was made in the Western financial press of possible joint ventures with, and major investments by, Middle Eastern sources of capital, and in particular of the growing influence of Arab, along with Russian, Chinese, and Singaporean, "Sovereign Wealth Funds" in investing in the West. A lot of people in banks, and other cash-starved enterprises, are hoping that these donors will help them out of the current world financial crisis. At the same time, Western governments and bank regulators demand that these new investors comply with standards of transparency and what is generally termed "good governance"; this means knowing the source of the funds being invested, the institutional structure of the donor bodies, and the relationship between private and state sectors, and individuals, within the donor communities.

Eminently desirable as such Western-style reforms may be, Steve Coll makes it clear that they are fundamentally incompatible with the financial and decision-making culture of Saudi Arabia and, by extension, of other Middle Eastern states. No major decisions, on investment or payment, are taken in formal meetings. Funds may seem to be attached to particular private donors or entrepreneurs, like members of the bin Laden family, but it is often their links to influential members of the ruling family that provide the key to their wealth: thus any attempt to separate state from private interests is doomed from the start. As for legal commitment, an estimated 80 percent of contracts signed in the Gulf and Saudi Arabia are not carried out. And as is well known, "commissions," "kickbacks," "local partners," and the rest are ubiquitously necessary.

What is more striking about The Bin Ladens are two themes that are not addressed, omissions that follow perhaps inexorably from Coll's approach to the story. One is a consideration of the qualities that have made Osama bin Laden and his associates so attractive to some in the Muslim world and beyond. Osama bin Laden's rise is explained not just by his skill with videos, fund-raising, and theatrical mass murder, but also by the chord he strikes among millions of people who, for a variety of reasons, resent the domination though not necessarily the life-style of the West, and in particular of the United States.

By devoting little attention to the larger bin Laden phenomenon, Coll leaves for the most part unexplored the question of what it was that Osama himself felt he was responding to, and the longer-run impact and endurance of the loose movement he initiated and inspired. In the final part of the book, Coll describes the situation of each of the main branches of the bin Laden family since September 2001, ending with a couple of chapters on Osama, portrayed here as on the defensive and increasingly unstable and eclectic in his choice of targets and ideological themes. The al-Qaeda leader—who may, according to some reports, be in the lawless frontier area of Pakistan—is evidently much aged and tested by his recent experience. He has had to contend with repeated divisions within Islamist ranks, and al-Qaeda has apparently failed to build a coherent international organization. Here the point is very well made by Coll that the origins and development of Osama's thinking are not to be found in anything traditional or scriptural, but are, rather, a response to the tensions of modern Saudi Arabia and of the Middle East as a whole.

In focusing on bin Laden's family background, Coll does not seem to recognize the extent to which, in some ways, history is, broadly speaking, going Osama's way. The US will not be able to maintain a permanent presence in Iraq, and even if the present state survives it will in all likelihood become an ally of Iran's. Turkey has been increasingly alienated from the West, and particularly from the United States. The Muslim Brotherhood is gaining popularity in Egypt, Palestine, Syria, and Kuwait—a trend that has reportedly increased in response to the recent conflict in Gaza. Most importantly, in the opinion of many firsthand observers, the attempt to build a new Western state in Afghanistan seems doomed to failure.

As bin Laden—"a global news junkie," according to Coll—surveys the world on the Internet and postpones, as all revolutionaries must, his dreams of a worldwide insurgency, he must be gratified to see how his old associates in Afghanistan, the Taliban, and his old patrons and allies in the Pakistani security system are, after the initial US successes of 2001, very much back in business. While it is too early to be sure who inspired, trained, and organized the recent Bombay attackers, there can be little doubt that they will be viewed with pleasure, when not enthusiasm, by al-Qaeda. President Obama has said in a television interview with al-Arabiya that "we are...communicating a message to the Arab world and the Muslim world, that we are ready to initiate a new partnership based on mutual respect and mutual interest." But the burden of past US policies in the region, both before and after September 11, remains heavy.

Here we come to the other clamoring silence in this book, one obscured all the more by the subtitle "An Arabian Family in the American Century." One of the leitmotifs of the book is the embrace by the Saudi Arabian elite, and in particular by the majority of the bin Laden family, male and female, of American consumerism and American business. Yet there is a larger question here of who, in the end, had the greater influence on whom. For Osama bin Laden, with at least some support from others in the clan, turned into the greatest enemy of the United States in the early twenty-first century.

At the same time, Coll's recognition of the interaction between Saudi and US government officials and businessmen may serve to displace, even obscure, the historic responsibility which America should bear, and which few care to investigate, for the rise of al-Qaeda itself. This, to an outside observer, is the most striking failure of the post–September 11 debate within the US: the terrorist attacks on New York and Washington are blamed on everything from the Koran to current Saudi educational practices. But the central stimulant and conditioner of the rise of al-Qaeda and of Osama bin Laden himself, namely US policy in Afghanistan in the last decade of the cold war in particular, and in the Muslim world more generally, is neglected.[5]

As Steve Coll shows, that Osama bin Laden himself apparently did not meet with US officers is in itself trivial; backed as he was by the Pakistani and Saudi intelligence forces in the conflict with the Soviet Union, bin Laden was both a recruiting sergeant and logistics officer, later prone to exaggerating his role, in an international campaign orchestrated from Washington. In this sense, for all his distance from the other, more compliant, members of the family, Osama bin Laden was as much a part of the involvement with America, and of American global strategy in its supposed "century," as were those Saudis who bought properties in Florida and Texas, or who invested in US businesses. And lest we forget, and for reasons that go far beyond the plans, malevolence, and indeed survival of one aberrant visionary, this story is still far from over.

Notes

[1]The quality of publications and analysis has changed quite dramatically over the past decade. Whereas only a while ago there were few serious academic or journalistic studies of Saudi Arabia, and all of these were by outside observers (Richard Johns, Helen Lackner), we now have a score of books that explain how the country works. Perhaps the first author to do this was the Russian Arab expert Alexei Vassiliev in The History of Saudi Arabia ( NYU Press, 2000). The French social scientist Pascal Ménoret, in The Saudi Enigma (Zed, 2005), a book based on two years living in the country, and the British political economist Tim Niblock, in his recently published The Political Economy of Saudi Arabia (Routledge, 2007), have also helped to lift the curtain. Two women authors with a Saudi connection have done much to remedy past ignorance as well: Dr. Mai Yamani and Dr. Madawi al-Rasheed, in their studies of contemporary Saudi Arabia, have provided analysis that is at once rich in detail and convincing in overall judgment.

As for Saudi Arabian literature, there is the monumental trilogy of the late Abdelrahman Munif, Cities of Salt, an epic narrative, on the grand nineteenth-century European scale, of the origins and early years of the Saudi kingdom, published by Vintage in 1989 in a translation by Peter Theroux. The Saudi poet, ambassador, and minister Ghazi al-Ghosaibi has also written a number of telling and evocative novels and short stories. And lest anyone be tempted to regard such things as impossible in such an apparently closed society, there is also a literature written by Saudi women, some of which has been published in Voices of Change: Short Stories by Saudi Arabian Women Writers, edited by Abubaker Bagader, Ava M. Heinrichsdorff, and Deborah S. Akers (Lynne Rienner, 1998).

[2]Penguin, 2004; reviewed in these pages by Ahmed Rashid, May 27, 2004.

[3]There are occasional slips: thus, on page 399, any account of the Bosnian war should include, among the enemies of the Muslim Bosnians, not only Croatians but also Serbs; on page 462 Coll confuses the Arabic word for Jerusalem, al-Quds, with the al-Aqsa mosque; whatever license there may legitimately be in the transcription of Arabic words, there cannot be two d 's in Mujahideen.

[4]Some difference may also be noted in the accounts which the former head of Saudi intelligence, Prince Turki al-Faisal, gave of Saudi involvement in inter-Yemeni conflicts. According to Coll, Prince Turki was approached by Osama bin Laden with proposals regarding Yemen, which were rejected. According to Richard Clarke, who later ran the counterterrorism program in the Clinton White House, it was Turki himself who asked bin Laden to get involved. Both these accounts conflict with what Turki told me, in an interview in 2004 in his London office when he was ambassador to the United Kingdom. He told me that his branch of Saudi intelligence, the General Directorship, had no responsibility for Yemen, this being traditionally the preserve of the governor of the neighboring Saudi province of Najran.

[5]A similar silence can be noted in the recent film Charlie Wilson's War, directed by Mike Nichols, an account of the role of a right-wing Texan congressman, played by Tom Hanks, in mobilizing support for the Afghan Mujahideen. In the original script by Aaron Sorkin, of West Wing fame, there was a moment when Hanks, hearing of the September 11 attacks, flashes back to his role in Afghanistan in the 1980s, but this was removed from the final version. Perhaps it was judged too complicated for movie audiences.


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