Putin Asks Bush, "Or What?"

The heart of Pentagon strategic planning for the last half century could be described with one word, deterrence. And behind this strategy was a little open secret. As the USA spent unimaginable sums of money to build the greatest military machine the world had ever seen, the little open secret was this: the military colossus was not meant to ever be used. From the earliest days of the cold war, the intent was always to threaten and intimidate, not to annihilate, any potential adversary. The strength was designed to prevent a war, not win a war. Pentagon planners (at least the wiser ones) knew that when intimidating and threatening turned to shooting, the United States military might not be as invincible as everyone thought. Vietnam had shown that there were limits to US military power. But until George W. Bush came along, Vietnam could be dismissed as a fluke that was tragically rooted in a lack of strong national resolve.

The Soviets understood deterrence. They played by our rules, and finally threw in the towel. Last year (2007) the Russians spent 19 billion dollars on their military. Even old Saddam Hussein understood how the game was supposed to be played. After his capture and before his execution, he was debriefed for nearly a year by an expert interrogator from the FBI. During this time he revealed that he never thought the USA would invade his country. He knew that invasion wasn't supposed to be part of our strategic game plan. The only person who didn't understand the Pentagon game plan was George W. Bush. Never known for a keen intellect, and certainly never one to grasp philosophical subtlety, he rode in with guns blazing like John Wayne—the proverbial cowboy with a fancy hat and boots but no saddle.

We faced an insurgent enemy in Iraq with no army, no capability to mass produce arms and munitions, no transportation infrastructure, no heavy combat vehicles, and no air power whatsoever. Nothing but a willingness to die for their cause. We truly were Goliath to the Iraqi insurgent's David, and victory should have come quickly and easily, but Bush will leave his presidency with his war still unresolved. In a very real sense, the Iraqi insurgents have achieved victory over America by teaching the rest of the world two words, "Or what?" Those two words have made the entire "force as threat" strategy of the Pentagon obsolete. Bush says to Pakistan, "You are not allowed to harbor Taliban terrorists," and Pakistan responds, "Or what?" Bush tells the Saudis to increase their oil production, and the Saudis ask, “Or what?” Bush tells the leaders of Myanmar to allow foreign aid to flow to the hurricane victims, and the Myanmar leaders ignore him, sending the silent reply of, “Or what?” Bush forbids North Korea to develop nuclear-tipped missiles, and North Korea responds, “Or what?” And, finally, yesterday at the Olympics in China, Bush told Putin to respect the sovereignty of breakaway Georgia and back away from all out war, and Putin simply said, “Or what?”

When you strip away all the macho patriotic flag-waving hype, the fact remains that Iraq has shown the world that the United States can be rolled. Everyone now knows that Vietnam was no fluke. World War III was prevented for almost 60 years by deterrence, but deterrence is out the window now as a credible national strategy for self preservation. That will be the lasting legacy of George W. Bush.

FEMA To The Rescue (Again)

I was told that my last posting was too long, so this will be a short one. I spent Independence Day out in the heartland, near Cedar Rapids, where everyone was effected by the flood to one extent or another. If the mood there can be expressed in one word, the word would be "frustration." Over 2,500 homes are simply gone. Not just uninhabitable, but non-existent. Last week FEMA moved in 40 trailer houses, and to hear the PR spin coming from Washington, you'd think the housing problem was totally solved.

One woman who is both homeless and unemployed (her place of work was destroyed by the flood) told me, "I actually envy the poor people in Myanmar. The government there did nothing. Nothing from a government would be a blessing. Our government moved in and made things worse for us. All we ever hear is how we can't do this or that because it's unsafe. It's not about safety. It's all about control, and forced compliance, and-- above all-- it's about giving the impression that the government knows what's best for us. And to make the situation totally ridiculous, our government scorns the leaders of Myanmar for being dictatorial. First Katrina. Now central Iowa. When everyone in America has eventually had the benefit of firsthand government emergency response, it will be the end of our democracy."

There's nothing I can add to that, except to say, "Pray for the people in central Iowa."

I Still Call It Burma

Pathetically inadequate response to a devastating natural disaster, from a leadership that is stubborn to the point of national suicide. I’m speaking, of course, about Myanmar, although I guess the description also fits Hurricane Katrina and the Bush administration. The deeper tragedy about the devastation in Myanmar following the cyclone is that it will now come to define this country that was once known as Burma. For years to come, the very mention of the name, Myanmar, will conjure up images of chaotic human suffering and pompous military leaders decked out in ridiculous uniforms. But the fact is, for several thousand years, Burma was a land of incredible beauty and human achievement. For my wife and I, Burma is still our favorite Asian country.

Until the nineteenth century, with the building of the Washington Monument and the Eiffel Tower, the second tallest manmade structure on earth was the Shwedagon Paya in Rangoon, Burma. For nearly a thousand years, only the Great Pyramid of Giza was taller than this great Burmese Stupa which was built as a place of worship for the Buddhist monks. At the base, the circumference is nearly a quarter of a mile around. And at the top of the giant 326-foot-tall central tower is a flawless 76 carat diamond. In my opinion, only the Taj Mahal in India can compare with the Shwedagon when it comes to ancient architectural perfection of design and construction.

Ignoring the U.S. State Department’s warning about travel to Myanmar, my wife and I obtained the proper visas and sailed to Yangon (formerly Rangoon) in 2004, aboard a ship delivering cargo. The military rule there made life miserable for native citizens, but for visitors, Yangon was considered one of the five safest cities on earth. We went to study life in a Buddhist monastery, and we ended up studying the history and architecture of the Shwedagon. I am writing about this now, during the news coverage of the cyclone’s aftermath, because I’m perplexed at the failings of the media. (That should tell you about my naiveté). If the media organizations can drag out endless file footage showing the Myanmar Generals motoring about like little dictators, why on earth can’t the same so-called journalists produce one single photo of the most beautiful temple on earth?