BY DAVID RIEFF
What
is surprising, though, is that despite the disaster of Iraq, looming withdrawal
in what will amount to defeat in Afghanistan, and, to put it charitably, the
ambiguous result of the U.N.-sanctioned, NATO-led, and Qatari-financed
intervention that brought down Muammar al-Qaddafi's regime, is how nearly
complete the consensus for strong action has been even among less hawkish liberals,
whether what is done takes the form of the United States and its NATO allies
arming the Free Syrian Army, opening so-called humanitarian corridors, or
encouraging Turkey and a coalition of the willing within the Arab League to do
so. British columnist Jonathan Freedland summed up this view when he wrote
recently in the Guardian that the West must not "make the people of Homs
pay the price for the mistake we made in Baghdad."
In
reality, though, liberal interventionists were never as shaken by the lessons
of Iraq as was commonly supposed. Anyone doubting this need only look at the
extraordinary mobilization for some sort of humanitarian and human rights-based
intervention in Darfur in 2005 and 2006. This movement included a number of
figures who now occupy important positions in Barack Obama's administration,
notably Susan Rice, now U.S. permanent representative to the United Nations,
and Samantha Power, now senior director for multilateral affairs at the
National Security Council, and who are generally assumed to have played an
important role (if not quite the central one sometimes attributed to them) in
persuading Obama to intervene in Libya. Nothing is wrong with intervention, it
seems (just as there is nothing wrong with drone strikes), just as long as it
is done by good U.N.-loving, multilateralism-oriented Democrats from the
coasts, rather than by ignorant, war-worshipping, vulgarly nationalistic
Republicans from flyover country.
If
anything, liberal interventionists now seem to feel they have the wind at their
backs because of the acceptance by the United Nations of the so-called
"responsibility to protect" (R2P) doctrine, which has been widely
touted -- including by many of the most important human rights organizations
that are often at odds with U.S. government policy (notably Human Rights Watch
and Amnesty International, and some of their most important funders, notably
George Soros's Open Society Foundations network) -- as resolving many of the
ethical and operational problems that accompanied previous iterations of
humanitarian intervention. In the words of Professor Anne-Marie Slaughter of
Princeton University, who, until last year, was head of policy planning at the
U.S. State Department, "R2P is a foundation for increased peace and respect
for human rights over the long term, [and] each time it is invoked successfully
to authorize the prevention of genocide, crimes against humanity, grave and
systematic war crimes, and ethnic cleansing as much as the protection of
civilians from such atrocities once they are occurring, it becomes a stronger
deterrent against the commission of those acts in the first place."
Like
so many of the fundamental assumptions of the human rights movement, there is
something quasi-religious about all this. Writing recently on this site, Gareth
Evans, the former Australian foreign minister who is one of the principal
intellectual and institutional architects of R2P, argued that over the past
decade there is "universal agreement that state sovereignty is not a
license to kill." He concedes that the Russian and Chinese veto of the
Security Council's Syria resolution demonstrates that "for every two steps
forward on R2P there is usually a step back" -- but Evans quickly
dispenses with this caveat. He quotes U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon,
noting that henceforth the global debate will be about "how, not whether,
to implement the responsibility to protect."
Welcome
to the "End of History," human-rights style. Like Francis Fukuyama's
famous argument, there is simply no basis other than our hopes and our
preferences to make us think that though the road toward this radiant future,
to use the old Soviet expression, will be neither straight nor smooth,
nevertheless it only goes one way, and that is in the direction of progress, peace,
justice, and rights.
It
is this religious quality to the support for R2P that helps account for the odd
reaction among those who believe that something must be done to stop the Assad
regime's war against much of its own people despite the Russian and Chinese
vetoes. Obviously, some of this is purely political posturing. But it is not
only spin. The moral outrage, however misplaced, is real enough. In her
contribution to the New Republic symposium, Suzanne Nossel -- formerly Richard
Holbrooke's deputy when he was the U.S. permanent representative to the United
Nations, founder of DemocracyArsenal.org, former chief operating officer of
Human Rights Watch, and now executive director of the U.S. branch of Amnesty
International -- illustrated this faith-based ethical triumphalism perfectly
when she insisted that though the Russian and Chinese vetoes of the Security
Council resolution had been "a sharp political defeat," it had also
represented a "potent moral victory" and a "tectonic shift"
in the advancement of a global human rights regime whose victory is now
inevitable, no matter what kind of sovereigntist rear-guard actions the
Russians and Chinese may continue to mount.
The
implication is clear. Three years after the adoption of R2P by the U.N. General
Assembly and more than a year after the beginning of the Arab Spring, not only
is the Assad regime on the wrong side of history, but the Russians and Chinese
are as well. In her New Republic piece, Nossel even goes so far as to imply
that the Russians and the Chinese know this themselves. They cast their votes
out of fear of this human rights-based future, she writes, claiming that the
"bell of international condemnation and isolation tolling now for Damascus
sounds an uneasy note in Beijing and Moscow." Even by the hubristic
standards of the human rights movement, these are extraordinary claims. One
doubts, however, that they will cause either Vladimir Putin or Hu Jintao to
quake in his boots as this owl of Minerva flies by, presumably with a copy of
the Universal Declaration of Human Rights held in its beak.
Beneath
all the incantatory bluster, however, a certain nervousness shows through. To
judge by the fevered, angry response of U.S., French, and British officials, it
seems as if they genuinely believed the Russians and Chinese would be obliged
to truckle before the historic inevitability of the human rights revolution.
How else to account for the spectacle of Ambassador Rice storming out of the
Security Council chamber in fine, old, Khrushchev-era Soviet style once the
vetoes had been cast, or her declaration shortly after that Russia and China
had held the council "hostage" (one can only wonder how long until
those words are thrown back at her the next time the United States vetoes a
Security Council resolution on Israel-Palestine, as it has so often in the
past).
Safely
out of government, Slaughter was able to go further, demanding that the United
States and its allies do something to bring the carnage in Syria to an end.
Otherwise, she wrote, R2P would be exposed as a "convenient fiction for
power politics or oil politics." So convinced is she of the positive value
of the responsibility to protect as a force for peace and international
security that she seems perfectly willing to envisage an end run around that
pesky Security Council veto the Russians and the Chinese had the gall to
invoke. To be legitimate, she writes, all that would be required from the
United Nations would be the "authorization of a majority of the members of
the [Security Council]," as an exercise of R2P, "with clear limits to
how and against whom force could be used built into the resolution." Like
the iconic U.S. officer in Vietnam who told a reporter that his troops had been
obliged to burn the village in order to save it, Slaughter seems to be willing
to undermine the structural foundations of international order, which, for
better or worse, is based in large measure on the Security Council, in order to
further it. Peace is war; war is peace. George Orwell, call your office.
Meanwhile,
despite the astonishing propaganda barrage in the media (for once, CNN, the
BBC, and Al Jazeera were all on the same page!) that for all intents and
purposes endorsed the claims about dead and wounded made by the anti-Assad
insurgents (the disclaimers tended to come at paragraph three or four of a
print piece, or the tail end of a video segment), the reality on the ground in
Syria was far more complicated. A McClatchy news story quoted U.S. government
sources as confirming that the recent attack against a Syrian government
building in Aleppo had probably been the work of al Qaeda, thus confirming at
least to some extent the claims the Assad regime has made about the role of
jihadists in the rebellion. Qaddafi made the same claim; it was dismissed at
the time, but now appears to have had at least some foundation. In the Syrian
case, though, there is no need to trust either Assad or anonymous sources in
the U.S. intelligence world, because al Qaeda's support for the uprising has
been confirmed publicly by Osama bin Laden's successor, Ayman al-Zawahiri, who,
in a recent video, praised the "lions of Syria" for their rebellion.
And even if al Qaeda's role is overstated, the degree to which what is going on
today in Syria pits Sunnis against Assad's Alawite base was underscored by the
early January testimony to the Knesset's Foreign Affairs and Defense Committee
by Israeli army chief of staff Benny Gantz, who said the Israel Defense Forces
was already making contingency plans to cope with the thousands of Alawites
likely to try to flee to Israel should Assad be driven from power.These nightmare scenarios are anything but far-fetched. What is taking place in Syria may have begun in part as a democratic insurrection, but it has become a low-level (at least for the moment) interconfessional civil war. The last time we got involved in one of those was in Iraq, whose principal legacies, however unintended, are almost certain to be increasing Iranian power and influence -- and setting the stage for the disappearance of Christianity in one of its most ancient homelands. There is simply no reason to believe that things in Syria will turn out any better and at least some reason to assume that the result will be even worse. But in the brave new world of R2P, this does not seem to matter very much to a born-again liberal interventionism eager to flex its muscles.
During the Bush administration, Democrats often boasted that -- unlike the president and his aides, who were consumed by millenarian dreams of remaking the Middle East in the image of American democracy -- they were part of the "reality-based community." In fact, the neoconservatives were paragons of modesty compared with the liberal interventionists and R2P supporters who saw in Libya and now see in Syria the chance to move one step closer to remaking the world in the image of the human rights movement. Infatuated by their own good intentions -- and persuaded that their interventionist views incarnate a higher morality -- those who view Libya as a triumph and Syria as an opportunity to cement the practice of humanitarian intervention are in full crusading mode. If the looming victory of the Taliban in Afghanistan, the failure of the democratic project in Iraq, and the fact that the most significant political outcomes of the Arab Spring in Egypt, Yemen, and Libya have been instability and the victory of political Islam have not chastened them -- and clearly they haven't -- nothing will. Welcome to the second decade in a row of humanitarian war.
-This commentary was published in Foreign Policy on 13/02/2012
-David Rieff is the author, most recently, of Against Remembrance, a critique of political memory. He is completing a book on the global food crisis
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